Talion continued to not look at Anther. "We don't want attention," he said.
It was frustrating to Anther. The way the other boy's voice dipped low, almost inaudible. The way he wouldn't look straight at anyone. The way he sometimes mumbled to himself, or his eyes skittered towards nothing at all. It was like being chained to an addict, though as far as Anther could tell Talion didn't do nothing. Or hadn't had access to nothing. But, then again, it could mean the other boy was just plum crazy, which weren't no comforting thought.
Anther made a noise at the back of his throat, one part frustration and one part disgust as he waited for Joshua to swing back around.
"Just look," Talion said. He sounded almost nervous, which made Anther frown at the other boy. He rolled his eyes, and looked out into the room.
His eyes skimmed over drunks and druggies, gamblers and lowlifes. Loud, raucous men whose postures claimed the place as theirs, and -- guardsmen. Anther felt his body go cold, and suddenly Talion's meaning became clear. If there were guardsmen in a place like this, bold as brass, might it be possible they were waiting for someone to say or do something unfortunate? Something like speak the name of a particularly disliked newspaper?
Anther swung back around, not looking at Talion. He didn't say thank you, and he didn't acknowledge the other boy's tacit save. What he did do was down his drink, and when Joshua did meander back up to them he made sure to be more circumspect.
Joshua studied the two of them as if he was the judge at the gate, and then looked past them. "You'll be wanting to talk to Mister Varti," he said, giving a little gesture to the back of the room. "Go talk to the man at the door."
Man at the door. . .two for two for Talion, and the thought made Anther's thoughts sour further still. He nodded at Joshua, his mouth settling in a grim line, and got off his stool. He tugged Talion after him, feeling something curiously like hate settling down in his belly.
Questionable Business
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Jacel Varti
- Citizen
- Posts: 57
- Joined: Thu Jan 03, 2013 6:17 am
- Name: Jacel Varti
- Race: Elven
Re: Questionable Business
Jacel watched the Tarsis agent’s hand go for the miniature crossbow at his hip. He reminded himself that he really needed to get around to starting up a policy of turning in weapons at the door. One in his position shouldn’t need to worry about weaponry over the course of a routine meeting like this. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat while the Tarsis kid was watching the drama of dogs.
When the Tarsis lackey responded negatively to his accusation of Saraphina’s shifterhood, Jacel didn’t buy it. The elf put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand while he analyzed the new information. Though he supposed it was possible, Bitch’s nose hadn’t been wrong about this sort of thing before. He wondered how long the boy had owned the dog, and lamented that it would be rude to ask further questions on the matter. It seemed entirely possible the Tarsis had sent her as a spy, and the boy was simply unaware.
He let the boy continue, wondering at the fact that he apparently knew the dog’s name but didn’t know the kid’s. Again he was forced to endure talk of traps. Jacel wasn’t sure why the boy thought the Marn government gave a shit about him, little more than a criminal halfway across the continent causing problems for a foreign nation they didn’t even like, but he supposed he could chalk that up to the aggrandized sense of self-importance inherent to those the kid’s age. Jacel was willing to bet they didn’t even have a file on him anymore.
The kid offered up some smokes, and Jacel humbly accepted. The boy might be too rude to accept a simple handshake, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t authorize a light. He flicked the match and started smoking. It was true he wasn’t much of a smoker, but one didn’t deal in drugs without having at least a reasonable tolerance. All the same, he quickly set it down as he let the smoke lazily drift up.
He finally decided to speak, starting off by calling his dog to him. “Bitch, here.” Bitch complied, scampering around the table to sit roughly at his side. He grabbed the remaining chicken and rewarded Bitch’s efforts by unceremoniously tossing it from the table. The sounds of chewing and ripping followed as Bitch tore through her prize.
“You’re correct.” He continued, meeting the Tarsis agent’s gaze. “I am interested in a long term transaction.” He opened a drawer and brought out some papers, tossing them across the table to his provider. “I’ll expect some carts of the stuff shipped through this entrance,” he pointed to a map he had included in the bundle; “I can ensure the guards on watch are exceptionally lazy from that post. There will be no more ‘forceful interrogations’ as you called it, provided the Tarsis is willing to operate according to my rules in this matter. I want them to understand it will go smoother for both of us if your organization works with me as they expand out here; Marn isn’t their territory, as you well know.”
“The exact shipment specifications are in the papers, of course. I trust you’ll see them delivered safely back to Eyropa.” He smiled. “And of course, the payment.” He reached out for the bag of bishani placed it gently beside the papers. “You strike me as a bit too intelligent to try skimming some coins off the top. I hope I am not proven wrong.”
Jacel snapped the fingers of his free hand as if he had forgetten something, leaving his other clasped to the bag of wealth. "Ah, and before I forget to ask, do you have a name, boy?"
When the Tarsis lackey responded negatively to his accusation of Saraphina’s shifterhood, Jacel didn’t buy it. The elf put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand while he analyzed the new information. Though he supposed it was possible, Bitch’s nose hadn’t been wrong about this sort of thing before. He wondered how long the boy had owned the dog, and lamented that it would be rude to ask further questions on the matter. It seemed entirely possible the Tarsis had sent her as a spy, and the boy was simply unaware.
He let the boy continue, wondering at the fact that he apparently knew the dog’s name but didn’t know the kid’s. Again he was forced to endure talk of traps. Jacel wasn’t sure why the boy thought the Marn government gave a shit about him, little more than a criminal halfway across the continent causing problems for a foreign nation they didn’t even like, but he supposed he could chalk that up to the aggrandized sense of self-importance inherent to those the kid’s age. Jacel was willing to bet they didn’t even have a file on him anymore.
The kid offered up some smokes, and Jacel humbly accepted. The boy might be too rude to accept a simple handshake, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t authorize a light. He flicked the match and started smoking. It was true he wasn’t much of a smoker, but one didn’t deal in drugs without having at least a reasonable tolerance. All the same, he quickly set it down as he let the smoke lazily drift up.
He finally decided to speak, starting off by calling his dog to him. “Bitch, here.” Bitch complied, scampering around the table to sit roughly at his side. He grabbed the remaining chicken and rewarded Bitch’s efforts by unceremoniously tossing it from the table. The sounds of chewing and ripping followed as Bitch tore through her prize.
“You’re correct.” He continued, meeting the Tarsis agent’s gaze. “I am interested in a long term transaction.” He opened a drawer and brought out some papers, tossing them across the table to his provider. “I’ll expect some carts of the stuff shipped through this entrance,” he pointed to a map he had included in the bundle; “I can ensure the guards on watch are exceptionally lazy from that post. There will be no more ‘forceful interrogations’ as you called it, provided the Tarsis is willing to operate according to my rules in this matter. I want them to understand it will go smoother for both of us if your organization works with me as they expand out here; Marn isn’t their territory, as you well know.”
“The exact shipment specifications are in the papers, of course. I trust you’ll see them delivered safely back to Eyropa.” He smiled. “And of course, the payment.” He reached out for the bag of bishani placed it gently beside the papers. “You strike me as a bit too intelligent to try skimming some coins off the top. I hope I am not proven wrong.”
Jacel snapped the fingers of his free hand as if he had forgetten something, leaving his other clasped to the bag of wealth. "Ah, and before I forget to ask, do you have a name, boy?"
Re: Questionable Business
Feeling sticky about crossing the room and approaching the door Joshua had gestured towards wasn't unnatural. It made sense, what with Talion the only one Anther sorta maybe trusted in the whole bloody room. Still, he kept an eye out for the other as they made their way through the groups and clusters of folk, his hands visible and close to the weapons he kept hidden in all the layers of his clothing. Anther'd never owned no belt good enough to keep up around his hips with the weight of a blade on it, and he'd not intended to start now that he was being slipped some small bits of money. His Fussiness could go suck on his penknife if he thought Anther was gonna dance at his bidding so easy. Naw, Anther'd kept most of his cut of the money square, buyin' only what was real necessary and stocking the rest away where Talion couldn't find it if he'd a mind to.
His skin felt clammy despite the heat that rushed under his skin, and he wondered maybe if he shouldn't have shed some of the layers cloaking most of his skin from easy viewing. He was all grey and greens and yellows so tarred up from street-sweeping they looked to be a series of muddy brown. Anther paid no mind, it had never been much concern to him what he looked at, and besides the slump of his shoulders and the slouch of his spine, he didn't expect anyone else but guards to care.
Who else but a guard to meet him at the door to his entry? Anther tried to sidestep the body in front of him, at first, all gawky teenager as he avoided eye contact with anything that might resemble a face. Talion loitered behind him, silent and brooding in his way, and Anther counted him no use with anything moving forward. He'd half a mind to send him outside like some scrawny mutt, but then he couldn't be sure the other lad might wander off into some drug-laced alley and wind up belly down in some alley come the morrow, lost to knowledge and thoroughly gutting Anther in the process once Sir Whiny Liver Eater found out. And no matter how clod-brained Anther thought the other man, he would eventually find out. That was Anther's life in the recent sense.
"State your business," the body in front of Anther said, sounding right bored about the matter.
Anther looked up. An elf stood in front of him, some faint amusement hanging about his otherwise scornful expression. Unlike Anther, his hair was swept up and away from his face into a neat tail. The rest of him was neat too, in that businesslike way professional guards had, or professional fighting men. Hard to tell exactly which this man was, but he stood solid on his feet, and was built through with enough muscle to tell Anther he likely knew what he was about. His gaze was sharp, and in the two seconds Anther held it he knew this man was the type you didn't steal from on the street, not ever. It was knowing, and heat burned up Anther's neck and up his cheeks at the condescension he found there.
"Was tole to talk ta. . ." his lips puckered over the words.
"Mister Varti," Talion supplied, his voice soft and distant.
The guard looked past Anther, and Anther turned real slight to give Talion a look that any other man would rightfully interpret as shut your mouth and go pretend to be a statue somewhere else. Talion, however, was looking past them both at the door with an expression Anther might've pinned on a dust sniffer, though he knew Talion was clean as of the last few days. Or at least he should've been. Anther frowned.
"What's it you're needing to talk about?"
If Anther had been asked to describe the man's tone, coupled with his expression, right then, he would've called it mean. He didn't make eye contact again, though his eyes wandered around the planes of the guard's face without quite landing on any one in particular. "'Bout some papers an' some words I don't plan on gaffin' 'round with anyone else." The words were churlish, but his voice was quiet. He meant 'em, oh yeah he did, but he'd no wish to get cold-cocked over 'em neither.
"Joshua told us to," Talion said. That time, Anther stepped back just enough that his heel landed on Talion's toes, resulting in a rather satisfying, if muffled, exclamation of pain.
The guard looked rather dubious. "He's got business."
"We'll wait," Anther said, and folded his arms. The fact that he was slouching and his shoulders had curved inward made the stance not particularly impressive.
His skin felt clammy despite the heat that rushed under his skin, and he wondered maybe if he shouldn't have shed some of the layers cloaking most of his skin from easy viewing. He was all grey and greens and yellows so tarred up from street-sweeping they looked to be a series of muddy brown. Anther paid no mind, it had never been much concern to him what he looked at, and besides the slump of his shoulders and the slouch of his spine, he didn't expect anyone else but guards to care.
Who else but a guard to meet him at the door to his entry? Anther tried to sidestep the body in front of him, at first, all gawky teenager as he avoided eye contact with anything that might resemble a face. Talion loitered behind him, silent and brooding in his way, and Anther counted him no use with anything moving forward. He'd half a mind to send him outside like some scrawny mutt, but then he couldn't be sure the other lad might wander off into some drug-laced alley and wind up belly down in some alley come the morrow, lost to knowledge and thoroughly gutting Anther in the process once Sir Whiny Liver Eater found out. And no matter how clod-brained Anther thought the other man, he would eventually find out. That was Anther's life in the recent sense.
"State your business," the body in front of Anther said, sounding right bored about the matter.
Anther looked up. An elf stood in front of him, some faint amusement hanging about his otherwise scornful expression. Unlike Anther, his hair was swept up and away from his face into a neat tail. The rest of him was neat too, in that businesslike way professional guards had, or professional fighting men. Hard to tell exactly which this man was, but he stood solid on his feet, and was built through with enough muscle to tell Anther he likely knew what he was about. His gaze was sharp, and in the two seconds Anther held it he knew this man was the type you didn't steal from on the street, not ever. It was knowing, and heat burned up Anther's neck and up his cheeks at the condescension he found there.
"Was tole to talk ta. . ." his lips puckered over the words.
"Mister Varti," Talion supplied, his voice soft and distant.
The guard looked past Anther, and Anther turned real slight to give Talion a look that any other man would rightfully interpret as shut your mouth and go pretend to be a statue somewhere else. Talion, however, was looking past them both at the door with an expression Anther might've pinned on a dust sniffer, though he knew Talion was clean as of the last few days. Or at least he should've been. Anther frowned.
"What's it you're needing to talk about?"
If Anther had been asked to describe the man's tone, coupled with his expression, right then, he would've called it mean. He didn't make eye contact again, though his eyes wandered around the planes of the guard's face without quite landing on any one in particular. "'Bout some papers an' some words I don't plan on gaffin' 'round with anyone else." The words were churlish, but his voice was quiet. He meant 'em, oh yeah he did, but he'd no wish to get cold-cocked over 'em neither.
"Joshua told us to," Talion said. That time, Anther stepped back just enough that his heel landed on Talion's toes, resulting in a rather satisfying, if muffled, exclamation of pain.
The guard looked rather dubious. "He's got business."
"We'll wait," Anther said, and folded his arms. The fact that he was slouching and his shoulders had curved inward made the stance not particularly impressive.
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Jacel Varti
- Citizen
- Posts: 57
- Joined: Thu Jan 03, 2013 6:17 am
- Name: Jacel Varti
- Race: Elven
Re: Questionable Business
Having concluded the business, and received a name which wasn’t really the boy’s name, Jacel tossed a few final specifications the boy’s way and informed him that would be all. A few cold moments passed by as they enjoyed a reasonable substitute for a handshake in the form of either mocking or cold glares.
“You may leave,” Jacel informed the Tarsis dealer by the nickname of Dro, “feel free to stay a while and enjoy the many luxuries of my place. You’ll still have to pay for ‘em, of course, but you seem to me like someone in desperate need of a little spice.” With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he threw out one last barb disguised as advice. “Live a little, Tarsis-boy. Life’s too short for even elves to waste.”
He collapsed back into his chair as the dealer left. The door swung open, and he heard the tail end of cerranel saying something. The Tarsis kid just swung the door shut, unfortunately, so Jacel mumbled a bit to stall his ascent. It had sounded like there were kids outside, and Cerranel was too small-minded to think kids could find anything. They weren’t going to be let through unless Jacel wandered over there himself. He sighed. There was a cost to putting that man on door duty.
He lifted himself up off the chair with some effort and lurched over to the door. Bitch continued dozing in the corner, and Jacel tossed a fond glance her way as she passed. His hand rested on the door handle and he pushed it through.
The kid was older than Jacel had expected, at least as old as the Tarsis boy. Perhaps he had been talking quietly. It was easy to see a motive, considering that Cerranel was wearing his favorite scowls. Damn sadist loved scaring those weaker than him.
He gave Cerranel a good slap upside the head. “You know better than to be rude to my guests, damn you. One of these days your idiocy is going to get your neck a lovely new shade.” Not that the pair looked like they were any threat to Cerranel.
Cerranel growled back, as he was made of tougher stuff than Jacel’s human underlings, “C’mon boss, what could they possibly offer?”
Jacel gave them a look over. They were about as well kept as a street rat could be expected, but their clothes seemed to be rather new, at least in the terms of the historic district. The taller human boy just plain shouted the fact that he was from those slums, and yet he had somehow acquired a full set of clothing somewhere along the line. It looked almost like it had been damaged just so he could blend in more easily. Jacel was immediately intrigued. There was a story there, and he could tell it was a good one.
Bitch pawed her way out behind him. She shoved her way past his foot and sniffed the kid. “Well Cerranel, that’s what we’re here to find out isn’t it?” He whistled and Bitch came sprinting back to him, whereupon he patted her head.
“Bitch likes him, so he’s in.” He put a hand on the kid’s back and ushered him towards the door. “C’mon in, kiddo. I can smell you’ve got a tale, and you’ve come to the right place to tell it. Start with your name, how about?”
“What am I supposed to do with the other one?” Cerranel asked, pointing as Jacel walked through the archway.
Jacel glanced back over his shoulder and dismissively gave the other boy a read. The big elf leaned in to ask Anther, “He important to anything? I’m getting an alley-bait vibe here.”
“You may leave,” Jacel informed the Tarsis dealer by the nickname of Dro, “feel free to stay a while and enjoy the many luxuries of my place. You’ll still have to pay for ‘em, of course, but you seem to me like someone in desperate need of a little spice.” With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he threw out one last barb disguised as advice. “Live a little, Tarsis-boy. Life’s too short for even elves to waste.”
He collapsed back into his chair as the dealer left. The door swung open, and he heard the tail end of cerranel saying something. The Tarsis kid just swung the door shut, unfortunately, so Jacel mumbled a bit to stall his ascent. It had sounded like there were kids outside, and Cerranel was too small-minded to think kids could find anything. They weren’t going to be let through unless Jacel wandered over there himself. He sighed. There was a cost to putting that man on door duty.
He lifted himself up off the chair with some effort and lurched over to the door. Bitch continued dozing in the corner, and Jacel tossed a fond glance her way as she passed. His hand rested on the door handle and he pushed it through.
The kid was older than Jacel had expected, at least as old as the Tarsis boy. Perhaps he had been talking quietly. It was easy to see a motive, considering that Cerranel was wearing his favorite scowls. Damn sadist loved scaring those weaker than him.
He gave Cerranel a good slap upside the head. “You know better than to be rude to my guests, damn you. One of these days your idiocy is going to get your neck a lovely new shade.” Not that the pair looked like they were any threat to Cerranel.
Cerranel growled back, as he was made of tougher stuff than Jacel’s human underlings, “C’mon boss, what could they possibly offer?”
Jacel gave them a look over. They were about as well kept as a street rat could be expected, but their clothes seemed to be rather new, at least in the terms of the historic district. The taller human boy just plain shouted the fact that he was from those slums, and yet he had somehow acquired a full set of clothing somewhere along the line. It looked almost like it had been damaged just so he could blend in more easily. Jacel was immediately intrigued. There was a story there, and he could tell it was a good one.
Bitch pawed her way out behind him. She shoved her way past his foot and sniffed the kid. “Well Cerranel, that’s what we’re here to find out isn’t it?” He whistled and Bitch came sprinting back to him, whereupon he patted her head.
“Bitch likes him, so he’s in.” He put a hand on the kid’s back and ushered him towards the door. “C’mon in, kiddo. I can smell you’ve got a tale, and you’ve come to the right place to tell it. Start with your name, how about?”
“What am I supposed to do with the other one?” Cerranel asked, pointing as Jacel walked through the archway.
Jacel glanced back over his shoulder and dismissively gave the other boy a read. The big elf leaned in to ask Anther, “He important to anything? I’m getting an alley-bait vibe here.”
Re: Questionable Business
Was it possible not to laugh at seeing some tough smacked like a child who'd mussed the bed? Not for Anther it wasn't, though he hid some of his amusement behind his hand as the fat elf progressed his conversation with his employee. The laughter was easier to dismiss when Jacel thought to call Anther 'kiddo'. That was the word used on the street with adults whose intentions were questionable at best, and it brought Anther reeling back down.
This man hadn't slapped his employee for Anther's sake. He considered Jacel's question and looked back at Talion. The other boy had a small smile on his face like he'd had a good sup and was off to dreamland. His interruptions were annoying, and at the moment Anther wasn't in the mood for playin games with such an unknown around.
O' course, not that Anther was really ready to play any games with these people. He was a sneak and a thief, and not some gabbergolly to spin tales and trick people into doing things. "Keep an eye 'round," he said to Talion, and then looked back at Jacel and followed him into the room.
The door and the only avenue of escape was shut, and that was about when Anther started questioning his decision. Walleyed as Talion might be, he was still something familiar to fall back on. And this, as Anther looked about the room with something of a sinking feeling for its obvious purpose at business and changing fortunes, wasn't really something he'd prepared for. He stood, awkwardly, and wished for something to keep his hands busy.
His turn to bat the ball then.
"I uh, we, yeah, we gots an int'rest in things that ain't looked at kind. Heard tell yer the one t'be knowin' where't goes. That true?"
This man hadn't slapped his employee for Anther's sake. He considered Jacel's question and looked back at Talion. The other boy had a small smile on his face like he'd had a good sup and was off to dreamland. His interruptions were annoying, and at the moment Anther wasn't in the mood for playin games with such an unknown around.
O' course, not that Anther was really ready to play any games with these people. He was a sneak and a thief, and not some gabbergolly to spin tales and trick people into doing things. "Keep an eye 'round," he said to Talion, and then looked back at Jacel and followed him into the room.
The door and the only avenue of escape was shut, and that was about when Anther started questioning his decision. Walleyed as Talion might be, he was still something familiar to fall back on. And this, as Anther looked about the room with something of a sinking feeling for its obvious purpose at business and changing fortunes, wasn't really something he'd prepared for. He stood, awkwardly, and wished for something to keep his hands busy.
His turn to bat the ball then.
"I uh, we, yeah, we gots an int'rest in things that ain't looked at kind. Heard tell yer the one t'be knowin' where't goes. That true?"
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Jacel Varti
- Citizen
- Posts: 57
- Joined: Thu Jan 03, 2013 6:17 am
- Name: Jacel Varti
- Race: Elven
Re: Questionable Business
Jacel plopped back down into his seat in his typical lazy fasion. Bitch really did seem to like Anther and lay down just small distance from his feet. Jacel tossed her some scraps of his meal, which landed on the floor with a wet thump. Bitch was startled at first, but after an amusing spasm she quickly loped forwards to eat the meat. Jacel chuckled.
“You heard right. You need some know, I’m all ears. If you’re willing to help me in turn, of course.”
It was fairly apparent that Anther did not trust him. Jacel understood. Changers, he could even respect it. He briefly wondered at his thoughts, realizing he had just recently been scorning a man for that exact same mistrust. Damn his big soft heart for making him feel so hypocritical.
Jacel looked over to Anther again, wondering whether or not he should attempt to reassure the boy that he was safe to deal with or reinforce his existing perceptions. There were those who could only give trust to those who openly admitted that they would stab you in the back.
He made a quick decision that Anther was of the suspicious sort. He continued to talk like he was the most greedy son of a bitch on the streets. And honestly, he couldn’t say he wasn’t. “You’re old enough to know that nothing’s free unless you steal it.” Jacel thought about that statement, putting a hand thoughtfully to his chin. He cautioned, “I assume you’re smarter than to try that here, thief.” Jacel figured Anther must have stolen the clothes from someone’s line.
“So get to the meat of it. What are you here lookin’ for?” He waited expectantly.
“You heard right. You need some know, I’m all ears. If you’re willing to help me in turn, of course.”
It was fairly apparent that Anther did not trust him. Jacel understood. Changers, he could even respect it. He briefly wondered at his thoughts, realizing he had just recently been scorning a man for that exact same mistrust. Damn his big soft heart for making him feel so hypocritical.
Jacel looked over to Anther again, wondering whether or not he should attempt to reassure the boy that he was safe to deal with or reinforce his existing perceptions. There were those who could only give trust to those who openly admitted that they would stab you in the back.
He made a quick decision that Anther was of the suspicious sort. He continued to talk like he was the most greedy son of a bitch on the streets. And honestly, he couldn’t say he wasn’t. “You’re old enough to know that nothing’s free unless you steal it.” Jacel thought about that statement, putting a hand thoughtfully to his chin. He cautioned, “I assume you’re smarter than to try that here, thief.” Jacel figured Anther must have stolen the clothes from someone’s line.
“So get to the meat of it. What are you here lookin’ for?” He waited expectantly.
Re: Questionable Business
Bitch’s sudden go for the food startled Anther, though he tried to turn his twitch into a deliberate movement. He took a pace, then two, to the left, setting his hands on his hips like some half-brained idiot. He was uneasy right enough, and with good reason: this was the sort of man all the runners on the street knew to avoid personal entanglement with. If he backed out though, there’d be trouble to follow along later, especially because this was his best guess at what to do first.
He’d no notion his face looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, though he tried to play it real tight to his chest. The expression settled, somewhat, but to anyone with an eye for expression and posture he’d look the part of the rabbit cornered by the fox. It didn’t help to be accused of theft; while he’d come by the money rightways this time, there was always that niggling thought in the back of his brain. ‘Sides, for fair, who would believe him if he claimed ties with dear ol’ Sir Tightwad? The man himself would likely stop any notion of being assigned Anther, especially because if Anther was outed as a patsy, well. . .his pupils dilated and his breathing hitched as he thought of the cells. Changers, he couldn’t go back there. Teodinus protect him.
He started to speak, and the first syllable saw his voice cracking like he was some snot-nosed kid. He swallowed, coughed a bit, and folded his arms defensively across his chest. He was as suspicious as he’d always been, aye, but now it was backed by fear. “W-what is it? That you’ll be wanting in return, you wantin’ me t’help you.”
He’d no notion his face looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, though he tried to play it real tight to his chest. The expression settled, somewhat, but to anyone with an eye for expression and posture he’d look the part of the rabbit cornered by the fox. It didn’t help to be accused of theft; while he’d come by the money rightways this time, there was always that niggling thought in the back of his brain. ‘Sides, for fair, who would believe him if he claimed ties with dear ol’ Sir Tightwad? The man himself would likely stop any notion of being assigned Anther, especially because if Anther was outed as a patsy, well. . .his pupils dilated and his breathing hitched as he thought of the cells. Changers, he couldn’t go back there. Teodinus protect him.
He started to speak, and the first syllable saw his voice cracking like he was some snot-nosed kid. He swallowed, coughed a bit, and folded his arms defensively across his chest. He was as suspicious as he’d always been, aye, but now it was backed by fear. “W-what is it? That you’ll be wanting in return, you wantin’ me t’help you.”
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Jacel Varti
- Citizen
- Posts: 57
- Joined: Thu Jan 03, 2013 6:17 am
- Name: Jacel Varti
- Race: Elven
Re: Questionable Business
Jacel frowned. It seemed he had made a mistake in reinforcing his taste for Bishani. Anther had become thoroughly intimidated. While normally he’d be happy to have a terrified opponent in this sort of situation, it was rapidly becoming apparent that the boy’s fear was going to keep him stuttering for a while, rather than actually telling Jacel what the issue was.
With a sigh, Jacel reached out a hand as if he were offering Anther something. “Most times I would demand a price of bishani, but I can see that isn’t an option in this case. Look, kids like you come to my place for two reasons: either some gang boss sent you here for some reason or another, or you uncovered something serious and have nowhere else to turn.” The fat elf paused and folded his hands up under his chin, leaning forwards. The light from the ceiling splayed across his features, which stretched the shadows on his face and made him look a bit sinister, though he couldn’t have known it.
“You don’t strike me as the first type. That means you’re in over your head, and I happen to have an interest in going-ons just like that.” He leaned back again and threw his feet up on the table. “So talk, boy. Tell me what you want, and we’ll see how I can twist it to my personal advantage afterwards. I want the whole truth now.” If Anther was terrified of him, he might as well exploit it. It was too bad, really. If the boy had a backbone, Jacel could see him going far in life. “Try any half-truths, and Bitch will know.”
As if in response, Bitch started growling and tearing more savagely at her meat.
With a sigh, Jacel reached out a hand as if he were offering Anther something. “Most times I would demand a price of bishani, but I can see that isn’t an option in this case. Look, kids like you come to my place for two reasons: either some gang boss sent you here for some reason or another, or you uncovered something serious and have nowhere else to turn.” The fat elf paused and folded his hands up under his chin, leaning forwards. The light from the ceiling splayed across his features, which stretched the shadows on his face and made him look a bit sinister, though he couldn’t have known it.
“You don’t strike me as the first type. That means you’re in over your head, and I happen to have an interest in going-ons just like that.” He leaned back again and threw his feet up on the table. “So talk, boy. Tell me what you want, and we’ll see how I can twist it to my personal advantage afterwards. I want the whole truth now.” If Anther was terrified of him, he might as well exploit it. It was too bad, really. If the boy had a backbone, Jacel could see him going far in life. “Try any half-truths, and Bitch will know.”
As if in response, Bitch started growling and tearing more savagely at her meat.
Re: Questionable Business
Anther was intimidated. It wasn't just the way Jacel looked right then, though that played in on his subconscious something fierce, but the way he talked. The things he knew. How painfully close he came to the truth, which only made Anther more of a rabbit. Still, he tried. If he had not feared Justice Hall so thoroughly, so completely, he would have told Jacel everything he wanted to know. Until he faced something worse though, it was the threat of what he had experienced that kept his stones locked up real tight.
Somehow, his hands had found their way to his shirt, even with his arms folded. Pure defensive movement, but he did not realize what he was doing. He was too busy trying to keep an eye on both Jacel and Bitch without being obvious about it, and stand straight (enough) without revealing the curling yellow cowardice within him. He hadn't always been that way. It hadn't always been that hard. But the memory of the witchy-woman was painted on the walls of his mind, imprisoning him into reacting to what wasn't there. Yes, she had been dealt with by the government. But Sagath's screams -- the cells --
Anyone might be a magic user.
"Th-th-the paper. Vit'ble Paragon." His pronunciation was terrible. "We wants t'join. But we – we ain't got no knowin' o'what's what, n' I – we just – we wants t'know th'truth. All there is, I swear it on me mum!"
Somehow, his hands had found their way to his shirt, even with his arms folded. Pure defensive movement, but he did not realize what he was doing. He was too busy trying to keep an eye on both Jacel and Bitch without being obvious about it, and stand straight (enough) without revealing the curling yellow cowardice within him. He hadn't always been that way. It hadn't always been that hard. But the memory of the witchy-woman was painted on the walls of his mind, imprisoning him into reacting to what wasn't there. Yes, she had been dealt with by the government. But Sagath's screams -- the cells --
Anyone might be a magic user.
"Th-th-the paper. Vit'ble Paragon." His pronunciation was terrible. "We wants t'join. But we – we ain't got no knowin' o'what's what, n' I – we just – we wants t'know th'truth. All there is, I swear it on me mum!"
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Jacel Varti
- Citizen
- Posts: 57
- Joined: Thu Jan 03, 2013 6:17 am
- Name: Jacel Varti
- Race: Elven
Re: Questionable Business
Jacel jerked his head away from the swaying light. He lifted his feet slowly from the table and set them gently on the floor. Bitch growled, though she remained focused on the remnants of her meal.
“Is that so?” He said simply. It was apparent his mind was racing with possibilities for deception and intruige. The cells they used were difficult to crack even by organized law enforcement, and what information he had gained on the Paragon was mostly by lone rebel agents who came to deal. This meant he had been dealing with the Paragon while they held more cards than he did. It wasn’t a comfortable position for an information broker.
His one solace so far had been a man by the name “Three,” and though a fellow broker Three was entrenched rather deeply with the rebellion, which made him somewhat unreliable. It would do Jacel wonders to have his own eyes to snoop around.
The fat elf stopped himself, realizing he was getting overeager. Jacel knew he couldn’t count on loyalty, much less risky spy work, from a timid boy he had only just met. Debts only went so far, especially to someone like Anther. And for that matter Anther had just admitted a legitimate interest in the Paragon’s cause, making him even less employable.
That interest itself was a curiosity. Anther was already on the bad side of the law, that much was apparent from his mannerisms alone. It made his interest in “th’truth” strange, since by Jacel’s measure not much should matter to the boy but self preservation and his next meal.
As Anther got even more fidgety than normal, Jacel realized he must have been silent for a while. “Wait there a moment.” Jacel demanded and stepped over to the door. Anther’s fear made it unfortunately impossible to gauge his sincerity, but something wasn’t adding up. Jacel resolved not to use intimidation on Anther’s sort in the future.
Jacel flipped open the door and stepped through a moment. Cerranel looked surprised as his boss leaned back against the wall and put a hand to his forehead. Jacel only chuckled and shook his head. “Bigger than I thought, though not in the way you would think.” He explained. For once in his life, Jacel was nearly paralyzed by indecision. After a moment’s hesitation, he made another quick decision. “Fetch Adamanth. Tell him we might have our way into the cell. He’ll know what I mean.”
He turned back and open the door as Cerranel nodded curtly and scampered off. Confident that the soundproofing was sufficient to have kept Anther from hearing anything and Bitch was sufficient to keep him from stealing anything, Jacel walked back past the boy. “Good news, Anther. Our interests are aligned. I’ll help you get in and serve your cause. In return, you stop by and bet on the dogs every once in a while, alright?” He made it very clear with his body language that he was not joking, but even so he figured the doubletalk might be lost on Anther, so he dispensed with it and became more direct. “If you bring me some nice tidbits now and again, I’ll even pay you. Here’s one up front for luck.” He shoved a few bishani across the table. It was pocket change to him, but unless the kid had gotten lucky lately, it should be enough. Still, Jacel felt suspicious of the whole situation. Something felt missing. The fat elf narrowed his eyes as he again eyed those clothes; the elven boy had been wearing similar attire, hadn’t he?
“Where did you get those clothes, boy?” Damn it, Adam would be able to help him with this riddle. He might have at least done what Jacel had without making Anther piss his britches in terror. Would he just get over here already?
“Is that so?” He said simply. It was apparent his mind was racing with possibilities for deception and intruige. The cells they used were difficult to crack even by organized law enforcement, and what information he had gained on the Paragon was mostly by lone rebel agents who came to deal. This meant he had been dealing with the Paragon while they held more cards than he did. It wasn’t a comfortable position for an information broker.
His one solace so far had been a man by the name “Three,” and though a fellow broker Three was entrenched rather deeply with the rebellion, which made him somewhat unreliable. It would do Jacel wonders to have his own eyes to snoop around.
The fat elf stopped himself, realizing he was getting overeager. Jacel knew he couldn’t count on loyalty, much less risky spy work, from a timid boy he had only just met. Debts only went so far, especially to someone like Anther. And for that matter Anther had just admitted a legitimate interest in the Paragon’s cause, making him even less employable.
That interest itself was a curiosity. Anther was already on the bad side of the law, that much was apparent from his mannerisms alone. It made his interest in “th’truth” strange, since by Jacel’s measure not much should matter to the boy but self preservation and his next meal.
As Anther got even more fidgety than normal, Jacel realized he must have been silent for a while. “Wait there a moment.” Jacel demanded and stepped over to the door. Anther’s fear made it unfortunately impossible to gauge his sincerity, but something wasn’t adding up. Jacel resolved not to use intimidation on Anther’s sort in the future.
Jacel flipped open the door and stepped through a moment. Cerranel looked surprised as his boss leaned back against the wall and put a hand to his forehead. Jacel only chuckled and shook his head. “Bigger than I thought, though not in the way you would think.” He explained. For once in his life, Jacel was nearly paralyzed by indecision. After a moment’s hesitation, he made another quick decision. “Fetch Adamanth. Tell him we might have our way into the cell. He’ll know what I mean.”
He turned back and open the door as Cerranel nodded curtly and scampered off. Confident that the soundproofing was sufficient to have kept Anther from hearing anything and Bitch was sufficient to keep him from stealing anything, Jacel walked back past the boy. “Good news, Anther. Our interests are aligned. I’ll help you get in and serve your cause. In return, you stop by and bet on the dogs every once in a while, alright?” He made it very clear with his body language that he was not joking, but even so he figured the doubletalk might be lost on Anther, so he dispensed with it and became more direct. “If you bring me some nice tidbits now and again, I’ll even pay you. Here’s one up front for luck.” He shoved a few bishani across the table. It was pocket change to him, but unless the kid had gotten lucky lately, it should be enough. Still, Jacel felt suspicious of the whole situation. Something felt missing. The fat elf narrowed his eyes as he again eyed those clothes; the elven boy had been wearing similar attire, hadn’t he?
“Where did you get those clothes, boy?” Damn it, Adam would be able to help him with this riddle. He might have at least done what Jacel had without making Anther piss his britches in terror. Would he just get over here already?
Re: Questionable Business
It wasn’t apparent to Anther. What was apparent, after watching Jacel move about like some dogs did when they was chasing down dinner, was that maybe this was a bad idea. No, it was a bad idea. He didn’t know what Jacel was doing, what he was saying, or what he really wanted. He could barely remember the high-cuffed confidence he’d been holding when he first tromped into the Bite, because all his jumbling thoughts could focus on was the images of Tsaikatlaua’s arms uplifted, Sagath’s blood, the cell bars, and Emil’s cold stare. They flipped through his head, with Jacel’s bulk overlaid on the top, the light outlining him and his sleazy confidence.
This wasn’t Anther’s life. This had never been Anther’s life. He was a petty thief, a rogue – a man to whom life had never shown kindness, but had formed a sort of bloody predictability that he could count on ending in violence. But that, that had been comforting. He’d known it. This, and the Justice Hall, this was stuff he’d never expected and never had to deal with.
His feet felt glued to the floor as he stared at Jacel. The other man was so graceless, so why was it that Anther was the one who felt fat and clumsy and stupid? His palms were sweating. His skin prickled with cold and then heat, and he could only stare at the proffered bishani. If he didn’t take it and Jacel refused to give him the information, he’d likely be taking longer to find information, and Emil might claim them to be useless. If he took it and Emil didn’t like it, he’d claim them to be useless. Either way, Anther didn’t know what Emil wanted.
He looked up at Jacel’s question. That sort of bulldog curiosity, well, he’d run into it before. Used to be he didn’t fear nobody long as he had a shiv in hand and – no, that was a lie. He’d always felt fear. Always. But never like this.
“Ragpicker’s,” he mumbled. Half truth. Take the money? Don’t take the money? He was running out of time.
This wasn’t Anther’s life. This had never been Anther’s life. He was a petty thief, a rogue – a man to whom life had never shown kindness, but had formed a sort of bloody predictability that he could count on ending in violence. But that, that had been comforting. He’d known it. This, and the Justice Hall, this was stuff he’d never expected and never had to deal with.
His feet felt glued to the floor as he stared at Jacel. The other man was so graceless, so why was it that Anther was the one who felt fat and clumsy and stupid? His palms were sweating. His skin prickled with cold and then heat, and he could only stare at the proffered bishani. If he didn’t take it and Jacel refused to give him the information, he’d likely be taking longer to find information, and Emil might claim them to be useless. If he took it and Emil didn’t like it, he’d claim them to be useless. Either way, Anther didn’t know what Emil wanted.
He looked up at Jacel’s question. That sort of bulldog curiosity, well, he’d run into it before. Used to be he didn’t fear nobody long as he had a shiv in hand and – no, that was a lie. He’d always felt fear. Always. But never like this.
“Ragpicker’s,” he mumbled. Half truth. Take the money? Don’t take the money? He was running out of time.
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Jacel Varti
- Citizen
- Posts: 57
- Joined: Thu Jan 03, 2013 6:17 am
- Name: Jacel Varti
- Race: Elven
Re: Questionable Business
Anther reacted to the money as if it were about to turn into a snake and bite him. Jacel put his face in his hands and took a deep breath. “Look boy, the bishani won’t kill you. Just take it.” His patience was wearing thin. If Anther wasn’t going for the bishani, there must be something wrong with him. What sort of street rat did not take whatever wealth he could find?
The door swung quietly open as Adamanth noiselessly helped himself into the room. His faded, flowing tunic made as much noise as he wished it to. Without sparing Anther so much as a passing glance, he strode up to Jacel’s desk and put his hands on the tabletop. “Trouble with the rebel?” He asked. Bitch snarled and sniffed at his leg, which produced a rare break in his marble composure.
“The opposite.” Jacel responded. He whistled for Bitch, who strode around the table and happily rubbed her nose on Jacel’s palm. “The boy here says he saw the papers and wants in with Paragon. Says he wants to know the truth.” Adamanth looked back, his roman features pristine. So, the story didn’t seem right to him either. Jacel nodded subtly at Adam’s look.
Adam turned over to Anther. He reached over to the drawer under the desk, forcing Jacel to scoot his chair backwards to make enough room for Adam to open it. Adam reached in, grabbed one of the newspapers Jacel kept there and tossed it onto the table. It was a copy of the Tattler. “A reader, are you? Why don’t you read that line right there for me.” Adam pointed to a random spot on the paper. Jacel chuckled. Damn clever bastard.
The door swung quietly open as Adamanth noiselessly helped himself into the room. His faded, flowing tunic made as much noise as he wished it to. Without sparing Anther so much as a passing glance, he strode up to Jacel’s desk and put his hands on the tabletop. “Trouble with the rebel?” He asked. Bitch snarled and sniffed at his leg, which produced a rare break in his marble composure.
“The opposite.” Jacel responded. He whistled for Bitch, who strode around the table and happily rubbed her nose on Jacel’s palm. “The boy here says he saw the papers and wants in with Paragon. Says he wants to know the truth.” Adamanth looked back, his roman features pristine. So, the story didn’t seem right to him either. Jacel nodded subtly at Adam’s look.
Adam turned over to Anther. He reached over to the drawer under the desk, forcing Jacel to scoot his chair backwards to make enough room for Adam to open it. Adam reached in, grabbed one of the newspapers Jacel kept there and tossed it onto the table. It was a copy of the Tattler. “A reader, are you? Why don’t you read that line right there for me.” Adam pointed to a random spot on the paper. Jacel chuckled. Damn clever bastard.
Re: Questionable Business
That was a problem. No. No, no no, it was a Problem. Big deal. Big thing. From what Anther knew of these sorts, this interruption, this second person comin' in and struttin' big wasn't normal. Something had gotten it all sorts of rotten, and now was a good time to piss off as soon as he could make a break. Because if he tried too soon and this Jacel spooked up enough to keep Anther there, or Talion there, then all sorts of things could happen.
It was that crisp perfect moment when your body jumped it up to max. He was suddenly alert and aware of every corner of that bleedin' office, from the dog to the men to the lights to every piece of paper and ink and furniture. And his mind in that state, well, it went right quick around the block and came back t' tell him he couldn't be caught out. Not here.
"M-my mate," he blurted. "I 'eard 'em read out. Same as any other. We gets news, don't needs t'be readin' all that malarkey, see? Not that it matters. Why y'askin'? Don't see it clear any o' yer mindin', an' why y' got anyone comin' in 'ere nohows? I ain't a freakshow fer display. If y'gonna be blabbin' out me business t'everyone wi' ears, then I'll be trottin' it out an' finding me way else." He was backing up, talking more than he meant to and making his move sooner than he'd intended.
Oh, oh yeah, now this would give the fussing Lordling something to be corked over. If Anther survived long enough to make it back to him.
It was that crisp perfect moment when your body jumped it up to max. He was suddenly alert and aware of every corner of that bleedin' office, from the dog to the men to the lights to every piece of paper and ink and furniture. And his mind in that state, well, it went right quick around the block and came back t' tell him he couldn't be caught out. Not here.
"M-my mate," he blurted. "I 'eard 'em read out. Same as any other. We gets news, don't needs t'be readin' all that malarkey, see? Not that it matters. Why y'askin'? Don't see it clear any o' yer mindin', an' why y' got anyone comin' in 'ere nohows? I ain't a freakshow fer display. If y'gonna be blabbin' out me business t'everyone wi' ears, then I'll be trottin' it out an' finding me way else." He was backing up, talking more than he meant to and making his move sooner than he'd intended.
Oh, oh yeah, now this would give the fussing Lordling something to be corked over. If Anther survived long enough to make it back to him.
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Jacel Varti
- Citizen
- Posts: 57
- Joined: Thu Jan 03, 2013 6:17 am
- Name: Jacel Varti
- Race: Elven
Re: Questionable Business
Jacel chuckled at his excuses. They weren’t even bad ones, really, just not good enough. Maybe Anther had some potential, deep inside, after all. “Listen up, boy, and listen well. The Paragon wrote this crap for specific reason it not need to be preached out loud, and I don’t credit you the balls to have wormed your way into a rebel circle already.” Jacel paused for effect, but before he could keep talking Adam spoke up.
“You know, this may not be necessary at all.” He commented, calmly walking over to stand in front of the door. “The dogs have been exceptionally hungry lately, Bitch in particular. We can always find another way into the rebellion.” His hands behind his back, he cut a rather imposing figure.
Jacel shook his head. “You know me, Adam. I’m all about giving people second chances.” Tiny changes in Adam’s face informed Jacel that Adam was having trouble swallowing that statement. “Look here, Anther.” Jacel continued, using the boy’s name. “I’m not as bad as you seem to think I am. As proof of that, I haven’t let Bitch chew on you yet.” Bitch growled menacingly, but the elf pet her head affectionately and she calmed quickly. Jacel grinned his signature grin. “I came prepared to help you out, free of the usual charge. Changers, I’m even paying you.” He motioned to the bishani on the table as evidence. “But for me to help you, you need to help me. There is nothing in this world that’s free, services like mine included. So pay up.”
Jacel looked at Adam. “Of course, if you’re still not interested in my most generous offer, I guess we’ll have to do this his way.”
“You know, this may not be necessary at all.” He commented, calmly walking over to stand in front of the door. “The dogs have been exceptionally hungry lately, Bitch in particular. We can always find another way into the rebellion.” His hands behind his back, he cut a rather imposing figure.
Jacel shook his head. “You know me, Adam. I’m all about giving people second chances.” Tiny changes in Adam’s face informed Jacel that Adam was having trouble swallowing that statement. “Look here, Anther.” Jacel continued, using the boy’s name. “I’m not as bad as you seem to think I am. As proof of that, I haven’t let Bitch chew on you yet.” Bitch growled menacingly, but the elf pet her head affectionately and she calmed quickly. Jacel grinned his signature grin. “I came prepared to help you out, free of the usual charge. Changers, I’m even paying you.” He motioned to the bishani on the table as evidence. “But for me to help you, you need to help me. There is nothing in this world that’s free, services like mine included. So pay up.”
Jacel looked at Adam. “Of course, if you’re still not interested in my most generous offer, I guess we’ll have to do this his way.”
Re: Questionable Business
Anther opened his mouth to retort to Jacel, having learned on the streets long ago how to out blabber a fishwife dickering for blood, when the other man spoke up. He couldn't get a word in edgewise, though he tried, so he resorted to glaring at the floor and trying to make his heart not pound its way out of his chest and throat. He had to wipe his hands on his pants, they were so wet, and then grab at the cloth to keep his hands from shaking. What did they know, to be spouting such shit? Who were they to treat him that way?
He flinched at Bitch's growls. He couldn't go back.
"I don't take no cash from men like you. Grew up streetside, so don't take me for some rich distric' kid. Tell me what you's wantin' fer yer talk, an' we'll see if it's worth tradin'. But t-talk straight." He was scared. Weren't no denying that. It was all about which death he wanted at the end of it, an' from what he knew death by being chewed on was a lot quicker, and a lot more merciful than in the cells. Still, no reason to piss him off any more than he needed. "'Kay?"
He flinched at Bitch's growls. He couldn't go back.
"I don't take no cash from men like you. Grew up streetside, so don't take me for some rich distric' kid. Tell me what you's wantin' fer yer talk, an' we'll see if it's worth tradin'. But t-talk straight." He was scared. Weren't no denying that. It was all about which death he wanted at the end of it, an' from what he knew death by being chewed on was a lot quicker, and a lot more merciful than in the cells. Still, no reason to piss him off any more than he needed. "'Kay?"