"Oh, oh... Damn it! Come in, the door's unlocked. Just... mind the stack of books." A man's voice, nasally and excited, sounded out from somewhere in the office. The faintest hint of an echo giving the impression of a large and airy space that suited the weight of marble and granite that comprised so much of the structure. The reality of the office was no different. Airy and expansive, it's confines were crammed full of various artifacts of the natural sciences right down to the rare and prized figure of a plasticized cadaver from the Bright Republic.

The man who had invited him in, however, was no where to be seen though his antics and efforts could be heard as he seemed to mutter small snippets of theory or observation to him about whatever he was about. The sound drawing Alessandro to a small examination room lined with the tools of a physician's trade turned to the grim tasks of the Mortuary business. Inside was a small man with an almost rodent like energy to him that extended tot he cast of his features but not to the point of implying some slavish devotion to instinct or a lack of intellect. By contrast, he struck as a clever man, a thoughtful one, one deserving of the title of Doctor.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:43, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

"Ah...of course", Alessandro replies as he carefully navigates the precarious stacks and instruments piled about. A quick appraisal shows an intelligent and educated man distracted by his work. Probably enough that ethical concerns of a minor sort were easily ignored. Of course that was an easy guess to make considering why Alessandro was here in the first place, he thinks with a wry smile.

"Dr. Ricci? I am here as a favor to the proprietess of the Old Memories. She has a package?"

The contents of the examination room was hardly something easy upon the constitution. The length of a corpse laid out before the Doctor and his white apron stained thoroughly with the red and black of old blood. The incisions precise and methodical along the length of the body but doing little to detract from the truth of the matter. This had once been a person but as a student, himself, Alessandro understood that insight demanded deconstruction and that was no less true in the arts of combat and magic as it was in the study of the natural sciences.

At his name, the Doctor glanced up. Small spectacles sliding down the length of his prominent nose as he greeted his guest with a smile.

"Ah, Miss Orianna? Marvelous woman, how is she? She was so kind as to help me procure a few medical treatise from the Bright Republic... Leagues ahead of us it seems in the surgical arts but not so far ahead, eh?" He commented, seeming for an instant to ignore the mention of a package as thoughts raced past in his mind. He brushed his hands then upon the apron and frowned for an instant as they came away dirty still before offering a cheerful laugh as he proceed to the small sink to wash them properly. His moving away from the cadaver revealed the thorough examination of the digestive track. It was the body of a younger man if one were to hazard a guess... Felled rather specifically by what looked to be a spear wound through the stomach.

"Package though? Right, right... her curios. She has a fondness for eyes. I'd think she was an optician at this point." he added in a joke as he carefully washed his hands with soap and water. His tone remained almost perpetually cheerful. At distinct odds with his surroundings.

"Oriana is in good spirits. I too recently used her services for a rare text. She has it all on her shelves." said the nobleman as he waited patiently while trying not to touch anything. The dueling academies often brought blood with it but that was a farcry from these preserved bodies.

"To be fair I didn't inquire too deeply about the contents of her package. She seems a very private woman."

"Most excellent. That collection of hers would be the talk of the town if it weren't for... well you know how we can be when it comes to anything that might slow the flow of coin. Her people aren't a favorite of the travelled sort that come through. Neither here nor there. Hm... Right, yes, the package. I've what she asked for. Blue this time rather than hazel. Very hard colour to find... Recessive as they say in the republic need four to make two. Genetics, a strange science..." the Doctor said as he tended to the task of drying his hands. His mind wandering from topic to topic with a surprising breadth of knowledge and an apparent attention span measured in mere seconds as he walked near Alessandro from a moment and gestured with an arm out to the greater breadth of his office. The young corpse forgotten in the shadow of another task.

"Have to keep them cold, you see. Sensitive organs and more so when you've removed them." he explained.

"...I'm sure, Doctor. Fascinating." Alessandro replied neutrally. This being Oriana's contact he didn't want to alienate the strange little man but frankly he found his company unpleasant. "...the package?", he prompts.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:16, Sat 16 Dec 2017.

"It truly is not to everyone's taste but simply fascinating how all the intersections of the natural world collaborate and mesh. Man alone is simply a marvelous edifice for the nature of our physical make up. So many delicate parts, so many mechanisms, reactions, and systems yet surprisingly robust in most circumstances despite the almost... ludicrous complexity." the Doctor continued with cheerful fervor as he took the lead once more with Alessandro's reluctance to follow his extended arm. He twisted through the mess with a grace somewhere between an ox and a particularly nimble dog, stirring papers, setting towers of books to tittering worryingly.

It was finally at a peculiar looking metal box with latches along it's right side opposite the hinges that he came to a stop. An ice box though somewhat more reinforced and insulated than those commonly found in the homes of Vissio. The click and hiss of latches revealed the inside of a corpse locker in essence. With care he drew out a small package then of a strange white material. A bit of condensation rolling off the package. He took in his surroundings for a moment with a frown before picking up a container of similiar design to the corpse locker and deposited it gently within before securing the latches in position.

"Voila! Two lovely sapphires for the Proprietress of The Old Memory."

"Thank you, Dr. Ricci. No doubt Oriana will send her thanks and gratitude.", replies da Vigo as he takes the box. He hefts the box experimentally before settling it to ride more comfortably. "I wish you a good day. I must be off."

da Vigo gratefully returns to Marengo to pet his steed's arched neck. "What a cracked nut. I'm sure he is quite skilled but he does go on." Mounting the horse he continues back to the Old Memories.

[Assuming something doesn't interfere with da Vigo's escape...]

The Doctor bowed and chatted on amiably for a bit before returning to his work.

The Sun, meanwhile, continued to beat down upon the city now that the rains had cleared. It banished the early day's cold and welcomed a more pleasant warmth. The flow of commerce had ebbed not at all for the interlude as Alessandro made his way back to the Old Memory. The shop as it had been left in the shadows of the towering institutions to either side of it. A repository of hidden knowledge between the towering monuments of coin and trade.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 19:56, Sat 16 Dec 2017.

da Vigo enters the shop to look for Oriana. A loud cough announces his presence if the door's bell did not.

Now that he was aware that the Old Memory was warded... The subtle hints became all the more apparent from the gentle chime of the bell. Louder now as the silence contrasted against the bustle and noise of the street not far beyond the alley. The slight tingle of something, almost electric playing across the back of his neck. As before, though, sound could be heard from among the shelves as the Proprietress went about her work.

"Third aisle from the left wall." Orianna called out, her voice as calm and pleasant as before.

da Vigo navigates the maze of shelves until he finds the shop owner. "Hello Oriana. I have your package."

Once more, Oriana was balanced a top small ladder as she returned books to the upper most shelves. Her head turning towards Alessandro's voice with a smile that seemed genuinely happy but tinged by the same trepidation of an established cycle. It did little to slow her as she descended the latter and once more returned it to it's small alcove.

"Thank you, thank you... Did the Doctor mention the colour?" she asked as she walked towards the young Rake with hands pressed together before her. There was both trepidation, anxiety, and a desire to be about the business at hand in her posture. Alessandro could well imagine the whole cycle she had previously described was perennially unpleasant and that she retained the will to undergo it was no doubt a testament to the woman's will or simply a tragic habituation of something that could be overcome once and for all. It was hard to guess without the full breadth of details.

"The Doctor waxed poetic describing them as 'sapphires'", Alessandro replied with a chuckle as he noted her nervousness. "Which I think is his way of saying blue. Quite hard to come by as well."

Pulling the box around he settled it on one of the nearby reading tables and stepped back. No doubt Oriana would want to inspect the goods.

"He's enthusiastic about his trade. It's infectious... or annoying. It depends on how much you appreciate the detail of his studies but... yes, I've seen that the..." she paused for an instant to fuss over the word to choose as she gestured towards the back of the shop once more. "Complexion is rather rare here. Makes me stand out any time I've left my shop to go about the markets... more than usual, anyway." she concluded softly as she gestured again. The subtle feelings of power twisting in the air as wards turned and secured the premise. It did not seem intended as a threat and was indeed a wise precaution when one considered the nature of the package.

It, however, also did not leave anyone but the Proprietress herself feeling all the safer within the walls of her sanctum.

With the same care, she ascended the stairs at the back of her little shop to the same office and living quarters. The scent of coffee still lingering on the air among the other spices and hints of perfume. She settled herself on the same sofa, seemingly out of habit, and gently arranged the books so there was a space upon the bare wood to set down the parcel. There was that same nervousness and anxiety now. A far cry from the pride and composure but it also confirmed that the process was unpleasant but then... It wasn't hard to imagine at all how unpleasant it was to replace a part of one's self.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:43, Mon 18 Dec 2017.

Alessandro found himself drifting along the woman's wake almost unwillingly as he suspected what was about to happen. It was surprising that Oriana permitted it for such a private act.

"Should I go?", he says into the silence, courtesy winning out over morbid curiosity. As he had pointed out at the  meeting earlier they were business partners for all of a day.

"If you'd like. This is honestly the tame part of this whole ordeal. The rest I'll need a bottle of brandy for." Oriana replied with a certain grim humour as she undid the clasps that held the box shut. Everything had that impression of trepidation and anxiety even though there was a certain rote of past experience to it. With care she peered in and considered what the Good Doctor had acquired for her before making a small sound of approval and nodding her head. Whether she could actually perceive the eyes or not was a matter entirely beyond Alessandro in the instant but she seemed to know her business.

"Hmm...if you don't mind I'll stay. I'm curious", replies the rake as he takes a comfortable seat. "The kind of magics you are using are unfamiliar to me."

A slight case of nausea at the thought of what he might see passed through Alessandro's belly but curiosity was a powerful draw. And there was a certain flattery at being permitted to see Oriana at a moment of...well...weakness. Alessandro wasn't sure why the Ulstanger bookseller permitted it to somebody who was, really, a stranger.

Oriana closed the small box containing her new eyes and rose to her feet, whispering a small word that held a note of supernal force. A feeling of cold, strange and familiar, swept through the chamber for an instant before the warmth of life reasserted itself... except around the box. That sensation lingered there as if the natural order had been twisted to her whim for the moment.

"I'll need to collect a few things before I begin... and I won't be about it in the middle of my lounge. There is some mess to it." she concluded before vanishing into what appeared to be a small storeroom to the right to leave Alessandro alone with his thoughts as she collected all she needed. The sounds of her about the task seeming as quiet and precise as her organizing of the Old Memory's shelves below. Eventually she returned with a small satchel over her shoulder and a small knife in her other hand accompanied by an odder implement that struck as purely surgical, if not occult.

She made a small gesture then to invite Alessandro to follow or to remain as he was as was his prerogative. He had to wonder how much of the preparations he wished to be party to when he guessed at least one or two of the steps.

"Don't worry about me", Alessandro said knowing that distractions were lethal to theurgy. He follows Oriana as she continues her task.

It seemed the Old Memory was home to many things of it's name sake as the enigmatic Proprietress collected the small box and the macabre prize within. Silently, she guided Alessandro through another door that led to down sweeping stairs. Their angle and presence at odds with the structure as they led into a basement of sorts that had been carefully arranged to resemble an arcane laboratory and ritual chamber. Power thrummed through carefully arranged channels at the cardinal points of the compass to intersect in the center of the room.

All of it invisible but setting the hairs of the educated and sensitive to standing on end with electric excitement. This was a place that mortal men might enact miracles with the proper academic and erudite understandings of natural law and arcane formula. It was here, evidently, that Oriana plied her true trade in the manipulation of the world through theurgy and lesser magic. The hallmarks of her upbringing showing in the work benches, the small altar, and the lingering presence of death and cold. It was almost barbarous but a studious civility lingered in it's cleanliness and organization.

It wasn't the work of some savage shaman but a proper and elevated priestess.

That errant thought sending a cold chill down Alessandro's spine that he had, perhaps, glimpsed too much but the Proprietress for whatever reason had invested herself deeply and allowed this. Perhaps as a sincere gesture of good faith or simply that the act of keeping secrets had eaten at her for far too long.

With care she set the box containing her new eyes upon the desk and laid out the grim tools of the ritual to come. The presence of so many surgical instruments insinuating some surgical aptitude that seemed strangely out of place yet all too appropriate for every other talent that Oriana had hinted at in her bearing and preoccupations.

She rested hands then on that work bench and hesitated as she surveyed the varied knives and more esoteric tools. A bottle of clear liquid evident among them that was no doubt some manner of disinfectant if not something to numb the pain she was to shortly inflict upon herself. It was clear enough, at least, that there was a struggle of natural instinct against refined will despite the familiarity of such an operation upon the self. A task that was no doubt taxing upon a mind to even contemplate carrying out let alone actually following through.

Despite the necromantic specialty obvious in every line and tool of Oriana's sanctum Alessandro remained fascinated. However distasteful it was Theurgy in action as he had never witnessed it outside of controlled demonstrations at the school by teachers with far less skill. His own newly acquired puissance could see the weft and weave of magic, the use of the tools, and Orianna working herself into a focused will for the effort to come. It was impressive. He thought he could even see ways that might improve on it...

"If you need a hand?", he asked quietly, leaving the question hang in the air.

"After I am done, yes... Right now? I just have to... commit." Oriana replied softly as she reached back and drew off the veil of silk and silver. With care, she folded it and set it down upon the small work bench before her away from where she presumed it would be safe from what came next. Her back remained to Alessandro then, the ravages of her curse hidden but perceptible upon the air with the distinct sickly sweet scent of rot.

Carefully, she took up that small bottle and removed the cork. The potent scent of alcohol piercing the air in kind as she braced herself for a second longer before taking a deep draw of the bottle. A sputtering cough wracking her form as she set it down with a remarkably steady handy.

The Proprietress drew a breath then and steadied herself once more as she adjusted something before her and took up one of the knives. Small sounds seemingly amplified in the chamber by the ugly truth of the ritual preparations and the simple truth of mortality that was part and parcel of the curse. Steeled and prepared as she was, she had to work slow... Instinct forcing hesitation, grunts, and small cries of pain between the wet sounds of incisions made before taking up the next tool.

Each sound no more comforting to the imagination as her back remained to Alessandro... The faint quakes of hand, arm and leg threatening the real possibility of collapse.

It seemed an agonizing eternity from the perspectives of Alessandro as the smaller woman continued her wretched work. The surety of hand and purpose growing fainter and fainter with each passing moment but never failing entirely out of some bloody minded determination to see the task through. Her breath growing more and more ragged as even the fortified will of a Theurgist began to fail. It was with a shaking hand that she set aside yet another befouled impliment. It's edge coated in red and black, that foul scent growing all the more prominent upon the air; the stink of death and rot.

She drew a bowl then before her and drew out yet one more tool. An edged... spoon for lack of any direct name for the implement. Once more her breath hitched and Alessandro was left with the sickening sound of something wet deposited into the bowl followed by yet another. The edged spoon set aside with a hand now visibly unsteady as the woman once more steadied herself against the desk. Her breath ragged and short as she forced soft words out. A rush of fresher air flooding into the small chamber and banishing the stench of her befouled eyes with thankful swiftness.

She lingered there in silence as she forced composure once more upon herself and straightened slightly...

"If... you wouldn't mind collecting the box?" she offered softly as she kept her back to Alessandro for a moment longer and took up a pristine clothe of white and dabbed lightly at her face. The clothe coming away red and black as she rested it over the bowl, head bowed ever so slightly.

Alessandro walked to the container. With a firm grasp he slid to Oriana's side while presenting the box, its lid open.

"To your right at chest height.", the da Vigo directed while carefully averting his eyes from the woman's face.