Qhora wiped her bloody knife on her victim's tunic as she let the Miqo'te woman's body slump to the floor. The open door suddenly filled with shadow. Qhora hissed and backed instinctively up against the wall. She'd had a few close calls since starting Syndicate work, but she had yet to be caught. She didn't want to find out what that was like if she didn't have to.
"You do good work." Iron Falcon's voice was calm and serious as he surveyed the scene, extremely tidy but for the blood pooling underneath the target he'd given Qhora a matter of hours ago.
Qhora let out the breath she was holding. "This isn't exactly a great place for a chat," she snarled.
"Of course," the Roegadyn said. "You should get a table this time."
"I--"
"Don't take credit. I know. Or whatever else it was you were going to say." He waved a hand dismissively. "Do it anyway." He left, and soft light fell back into the room.
Qhora left through the window, the way she'd come in.
Qhora sat awkwardly at a small table when Iron Falcon thumped his considerable weight into the chair across from her. "You didn't order anything?" he asked. "That's a bit conspicuous."
Qhora rolled her eyes at him, then took a sip of water, holding the cup with both hands.
"So is dressing like a cat burglar," he added with a smirk.
"I'm not laughing," she said, scowling.
"How did you end up working for Giyu anyway?" he asked.
She sat up straight. "You get right to the point."
"Yes."
"It's..." She looked away, staring at the floor. "Complicated."
"I see."
"I doubt it."
"You know why I'm asking."
"No."
He gave her a look that questioned her intelligence. "I'm trying to suss out your loyalty."
"I'm not loyal to Giyu," Qhora said flatly.
"You're not?" He seemed taken aback.
"I'm loyal to the gil."
"Ah, that explains things," he said with a grin. "She does have a lot of it."
"She's also the only contact I had."
Iron Falcon rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"So if I could promise you more gil, would you be willing to do private contracts?"
"Mmhm." Qhora nodded, then took another sip of water. She tilted her head slightly, then finally made eye contact. "You think Giyu won't like it?"
"Have you talked about it with her?"
"I try not to talk to people," Qhora explained.
"Ha! As long as you haven't promised her you won't, she probably already thinks you do."
"Fine then."
Falcon reached across the table and patted her shoulder with a meaty hand. "Great."
She flinched, rubbing at her shoulder and leaning away from where he'd touched her. "My rules stay, though."
"Right. You work alone and you don't take credit. I might have to give you a little credit here and there."
She scowled. "Then if I get caught, I'm taking you with me."
He laughed heartily. "Understood."
"You do good work." Iron Falcon's voice was calm and serious as he surveyed the scene, extremely tidy but for the blood pooling underneath the target he'd given Qhora a matter of hours ago.
Qhora let out the breath she was holding. "This isn't exactly a great place for a chat," she snarled.
"Of course," the Roegadyn said. "You should get a table this time."
"I--"
"Don't take credit. I know. Or whatever else it was you were going to say." He waved a hand dismissively. "Do it anyway." He left, and soft light fell back into the room.
Qhora left through the window, the way she'd come in.
~~
Qhora sat awkwardly at a small table when Iron Falcon thumped his considerable weight into the chair across from her. "You didn't order anything?" he asked. "That's a bit conspicuous."
Qhora rolled her eyes at him, then took a sip of water, holding the cup with both hands.
"So is dressing like a cat burglar," he added with a smirk.
"I'm not laughing," she said, scowling.
"How did you end up working for Giyu anyway?" he asked.
She sat up straight. "You get right to the point."
"Yes."
"It's..." She looked away, staring at the floor. "Complicated."
"I see."
"I doubt it."
"You know why I'm asking."
"No."
He gave her a look that questioned her intelligence. "I'm trying to suss out your loyalty."
"I'm not loyal to Giyu," Qhora said flatly.
"You're not?" He seemed taken aback.
"I'm loyal to the gil."
"Ah, that explains things," he said with a grin. "She does have a lot of it."
"She's also the only contact I had."
Iron Falcon rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"So if I could promise you more gil, would you be willing to do private contracts?"
"Mmhm." Qhora nodded, then took another sip of water. She tilted her head slightly, then finally made eye contact. "You think Giyu won't like it?"
"Have you talked about it with her?"
"I try not to talk to people," Qhora explained.
"Ha! As long as you haven't promised her you won't, she probably already thinks you do."
"Fine then."
Falcon reached across the table and patted her shoulder with a meaty hand. "Great."
She flinched, rubbing at her shoulder and leaning away from where he'd touched her. "My rules stay, though."
"Right. You work alone and you don't take credit. I might have to give you a little credit here and there."
She scowled. "Then if I get caught, I'm taking you with me."
He laughed heartily. "Understood."
![[Image: g9ASfFg.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/g9ASfFg.jpg)
