Sky Cities (Jake)

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(The original thread, for those interested.)

Carlos Gerwazy

73 inches

167 pounds

Jet-black hair

Brown eyes

M

32

PHOTOGRAPH (Description):

Carlos has his eyes set on Hava Sehir.

He carries a four-barreled derringer chambered in .45 ACP along with a razor sharpened to have two edges.

You board the transport blimp, which seems to be manned by plenty of armed guards. There is no system of regulation or investigation in these skies, just men with guns that may or may not know how to use them. When the rest of the passengers board, the guard closest to the entry door shuts and locks it. The intercom turns on, and a man begins speaking.

"Hello and welcome to your journey through the skies. I am Omar, and I will be your captain on this trip to Hava Sehir. Please take a seat, relax, enjoy the ride, and get some rest if you can, because this trip'll be a long one." 

The intercom shuts off, and you take a seat as the blimp begins to lift up off the ground. The windows all around the seating area allow you a nice view of the platform and people below as they grow smaller and more distant. Eventually, you find yourself away from the landmass entirely, now overlooking the foul miasma below you. Something isn't quite right about it all, but you don't know what it is, and the other passengers don't seem to care, so you try not to dwell on it.

The day long trip isn't very eventful. The most you notice is a couple of pirates harassing some merchant ships, but other than that, the skies are quiet. Activity picks up, however, as you see the towers and houses of Hava Sehir dotting the sky in the distance. Ships of all kinds crow the skies around you, and everything seems far more busy then it did before. You see a cluster of these blimps and ships surrounding a rather large airship far off in the distance, but that sight passes by just as fast as the next. Your blimp docks down mid afternoon in the sky port of Hava Sehir. 

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Carlos attempts to keep tabs on as many of the passengers he can, reckoning he'll probably see a few of the faces within Hava Sehir, and a little foreknowledge of each person would probably help in the long run.

Besides that, Carlos disembarks from the transport blimp, headed for the inner-city where he hopes to find a plug to get him into Hava Sehir's crime syndicate. He keeps his hands in his pockets; one firmly gripped on the small handle of the four-barreled derringer, and one on the double-edged razor. He had sacrificed too much to get up into the sky cities, and he wasn't about to let his guard down.

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The city was bustling with activity. People going in and out of shops, talking to each other, and often looking like they cut your purse as soon as they'd shake your hand. It probably wouldn't be too difficult to find your way into a crime syndicate on these streets, so long as you don't get yourself killed first. You pass by an old man in dusty cloths, smoking a cigar. He whistles as you go by, and seems to be motioning for you to approach him.

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Taking heed of the obvious danger of the streets, Carlos approaches the man, one hand out while the other resides in his pocket, gripping the razor tightly in case things go South.

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He steps forward, looking you over as he speaks.

"Ah, you're a strapping lad, ain't'cha? New around around town, are ya? I can tell it, from the way you're wandering about without any direction. So, bein' the kind soul I am, how's'about you tell me where it you wanna go, and I'll tell you where it is you should go."

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"Guess I'm not the most discreet," Carlos says, giving a friendly chuckle. "In all honesty I'm just looking for work, high-paying work. I don't mind getting my hands dirty, either," Carlos says, checking over his shoulder every now-and-then to make sure a shiv wasn't going to be jammed in his back. Hava Sehir's not too friendly of a place.

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"Ahh, you'll wanna try looking in Havva's Bathhouse, sonny. There's aaalways someone with a job there, and if there isn't, Havva'll point you in the right direction."

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"Appreciate the advice," Carlos says, giving a curt nod before heading off in the direction of the bathhouse.

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The bathhouse is a few blocks down, towards the center of the city. The streets are crowded, and hard to maneuver, but eventually you make your way there. There are a number of people standing outside a very large building. The sign out front has steam rising up from a pool of water, and something written in Turkish that you may or may not understand.

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Carlos enters the bathhouse, not paying much attention to the sign in the beginning. He sifts his way through, eyeing anyone that may be able to offer him work. More specifically he's searching for "Havaa," as the man had advised.

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You notice a young woman working the counter. She's surrounded by men and woman, eyeing her so hard that you'd think they have x-ray vision. You can't exactly understand what most of the people are saying, but you definitely hear the name "Havva" come up a few times.

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"I'm sorry, any way we can go talk in a quieter place?" Carlos asks, trying to read her lips.

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You move closer to the young woman, breaking through the wall of men eyeing her up and down in an attempt to get a word in with her. She seems to notice you, as she slides a drink over to a rather brutish looking man near the end of the counter. She walks up to you and leans on the counter.

"You need something?" She asks, likely having been unable to hear what you were saying before.

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Carlos cuts to the chase, wanting to get out of the crowded scene. "Lookin' for work. Not afraid to get my hands dirty. Who do I talk to?" he asked, leaning in and almost shoutting to make sure the lady heard him.

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Havva smiles, and points to a group of men playing poker in the back of the room

"Come back when you've earned yourself enough money to actually take a bath, or buy a drink."

Havva saunters off to the next customer, giving special care to sway her ships as she moves, leaving you to try consulting the men she pointed out

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Carlos approaches the men, taking an empty, posting his arms upon the rib of the poker table, eyeing the other men, wondering which would be willing to possibly hire him.

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The men look up from their game, with questioning looks and annoyance across their faces.

"What is it?"A man at the back of the table asks

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"Any of you hiring?" Carlos asks, bluntly and straight-to-the-point. He had no reason for playing games.

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"That depends." Says a slick, well groomed man in a white tank-top closer to you.

"What kind of work you up for?"

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"Whatever pays best. Red doesn't look bad on me," Carlos replies, turning to face the man.

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The slick man smirks, and slides a photograph in front of you. It displays a middle aged, slightly balding man, with a stern expression on his face. Further details are hard to make out in this lighting.

"His name's Ray Zovarsky. Some Polish bastard. Kill him, and then we'll talk. Make it clean."

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Carlos takes the photo, slipping it into the inner-pocket of his coat, nodding to the man as he does so. With that, Carlos leaves the Bathhouse, getting out on the streets in a more secluded area where he can view the photo in better light.

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Finding a secluded space in this trade city proves to be rather difficult, but eventually you find an alleyway with enough light that you can view the photo well enough. Looking closely, you'll notice the man has a very clear receding hairline, as he's bald well past his forehead, but what hair he has is quite long, reaching below his shoulders. His eyes are a browish color, but they're hidden behind bulky, circular glasses. He's shaved, but poorly, and what facial hair he has is quite gruff.

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Carlos tucks the photo back into the interior jacket pocket, bringing his hand to his chin as he pondered how he'd be able to get this guy's location. After some thought, he bragained that either the nearby hole-in-the-wall bar or possibly an old-style diner would be his best bet on getting some intelligence. He reckoned that drunk people would be more willing to talk than waitresses and patrons though, so he made his way to the bar.

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You march though the back alleys to find yourself at the bar you were looking for. Kagick's Tavern, the sign out front says. Had you come earlier in the day, you'd have been unlikely to find many people around the place, but as evening dawns, more patrons seem to be flowing into the place. Mostly of the shady sort, but you notice a few honest looking individuals coming through as well.