Zhi was slack-jawed as she watched Lalataru go, the notepad clutched tight in one hand. The expression was not constructed. She'd been thoroughly flummoxed by the man, by her mistakes, by the fact that he'd just handed her some work to do, and that she might fail that work through no lack of effort on her own. The triumph of success and the bitterness of defeat: her quickly beating heart would not wholly make up for the sour taste in her mouth. She was left standing on the bridge, alone, as he disappeared from view. Only the ancient stone of the city, the water and the stars were there for company, and they left her to her struggles. She stood there for a long time: a silhouette in the darkness, outlined by the moon's faint light.
___________
Someone knocked.
Zhi looked up from her idle pursuit of repeatedly-stab-the-table-in-frustration, and then around at the small space she presently lay claim to. Bed, table, two chairs, door, explosion of poorly maintained clothing used for various disguises for various jobs, leftover food, mouse slowly creeping towards leftover food. She frowned at the mouse. "What," she said, too pissy to inflect the word as a question.
"'Sme." The door made a rattling noise, almost as if it would fall to pieces should someone lean on it. "Unbar th'door."
The mouse fled. Zhi nearly took off after it. Killing it would be stress relief. She stared at where it'd disappeared, fighting the instinct and the urge; how much dignity did she even have left at this point? She opened her mouth and inhaled, dragging air over the glands in the roof of her mouth. It smelled tasty.
"Zhio?"
She got up and let Brindle into the room. He looked around and whistled, a cocky grin plastered on his face as he looked back at her. Without even acknowledging him, she resumed her seat at the table, and returned to scarring its imperfect surface with her knife. The silence became oppressive. Brindle awkwardly took the seat opposite her, and folded his arms on the table. His eyes grew wide as he watched her, but he knew better than to speak.
Finally, she exploded. "That self-ruttin' dog set me up!"
"That why ye bit it?"
His smile was as innocent as her glare was venomous.
"Shut it, scrag. Lalataru?"
"Jes some drab what works at th'Gate. Oo set ye up?"
"Galleon," Zhi growled the name. Small chunks of wood splintered off from the table as she worked her knife back and forth. "Right craven bastard he is, too, hirin' me on an' then -- ye know what he did? I was thinkin' on it, thinkin' how I missed me step, an' it came from him! He gave me the blimmin' crumb what set me on th'trail."
Brindle considered this. "'Ow ye know it was a-purpose?"
"Hear nothin' 'bout that book Lalataru carries?"
"Not solid."
Zhi slapped the table with her free hand. "Right so, an' yet this bastard wants it? Not for no reason he don't, not fer what he's payin'."
"Ain't his fault y'didn't check thrice."
It was the truth in Brindle's words that made Zhi bristle. She started stabbing the table again, the thunks of metal hitting wood forming a counter-rhythm to her words. "Lalataru wants th'name o' me source."
"So?"
"Thinkin' might be time t'cut loose."
Brindle stared at her for a tense few seconds, then he broke down into giggles. "Even th'mighty Zhio takes a turn at bein' craven, is't?"
"I aint craven."
"Yeah? Prove it."
___________
Zhi lived for challenge. That was truth. Zhi lived to stay living. Also truth. At the point the two truths met was where she often found herself, hanging out over the edge and staring death down. That was how she lived. But there was something about Lalataru, about her employer Galleon, about the mess of a job that felt twisted. Something was off between the three, something she couldn't pinpoint, and that took her off course more than she cared to admit. Though she'd set Brindle out on his ear the night before after grilling him for all pertinent information, his words had stuck between her ears. Piss on what people said, but he had set her a challenge. He'd given her something to prove. He was just a dumb kid with a flapping tongue what didn't know when to stop, but he'd made his point. She'd been about to back off from a challenge. A challenge that stood to make her a lot of money.
Greed and her stupid sense of pride won out. She tracked down the woman she'd gotten the information on Lalataru from (short hair, petite, not anything like what she'd told Lalataru). At first she pressed the woman for more information on Lalataru, and was laughed at: "I give you word that the mite has a rotten past chummy with rats for a handful of gil, and you think you can afford the rest?"
As it turned out, she couldn't. Though, truthfully, Zhi couldn't tell if the woman even knew more, or was just putting her on.
"Ye know Galleon, then?" Zhi was grinning at the woman for all she was worth, her fangs on prominent display.
"Don't you just have the most interestin' names on the tip of your tongue. Careful you don't bite it off, dovey."
"He tell ya I was comin'?"
"As it happens, I'll be shippin' out tomorrow. Give your dear little friend my regards, hm?"
"Oh, really? Huh. 'Cause I thinks yer in it deep wi'Galleon, an' holdin' out on me. Whatsit, got his cock so far down yer throat y'can't talk?"
The woman laughed at her, again. The sound was too big for her small frame. Zhi weathered it, beaming at the woman like they were close friends sharing some stupid joke.
"We all have our errands to run, don't we? Best stick to it lest your attempts at cleverness see you caught out."
The conversation went nowhere from there, and Zhi was finally forced to admit defeat. The whole situation baffled her. Something was going on, something that had to do with Lalataru and that book of his, something that her employer and his rutting lapdog didn't want her to know. It made her uneasy. If there was more to the situation then she had been let in on, fine -- but it was seeming more and more like she was some throwaway piece in the game being played. Get the book, she'd been told. You'll probably have to get on Lolotaru's good side; it's not something easily snatched from him. You'll need information on him for that, so if you go to the lower decks. . .
She'd been lead along like a puppy on a string, and it pissed her off. She'd followed the information and hadn't given it a second thought. Why? What was with the runaround? Did they want Lalataru chasing phantoms?
No, Zhi didn't like the rutting mess at all.
_________
Two days had passed before Zhi shadowed the entrance to the Arcanists' Guild again, notebook in hand and clothing unchanged since he'd last seen her. She was curled up in the corner again, watching people walk by as she waited for Lalataru.
___________
Someone knocked.
Zhi looked up from her idle pursuit of repeatedly-stab-the-table-in-frustration, and then around at the small space she presently lay claim to. Bed, table, two chairs, door, explosion of poorly maintained clothing used for various disguises for various jobs, leftover food, mouse slowly creeping towards leftover food. She frowned at the mouse. "What," she said, too pissy to inflect the word as a question.
"'Sme." The door made a rattling noise, almost as if it would fall to pieces should someone lean on it. "Unbar th'door."
The mouse fled. Zhi nearly took off after it. Killing it would be stress relief. She stared at where it'd disappeared, fighting the instinct and the urge; how much dignity did she even have left at this point? She opened her mouth and inhaled, dragging air over the glands in the roof of her mouth. It smelled tasty.
"Zhio?"
She got up and let Brindle into the room. He looked around and whistled, a cocky grin plastered on his face as he looked back at her. Without even acknowledging him, she resumed her seat at the table, and returned to scarring its imperfect surface with her knife. The silence became oppressive. Brindle awkwardly took the seat opposite her, and folded his arms on the table. His eyes grew wide as he watched her, but he knew better than to speak.
Finally, she exploded. "That self-ruttin' dog set me up!"
"That why ye bit it?"
His smile was as innocent as her glare was venomous.
"Shut it, scrag. Lalataru?"
"Jes some drab what works at th'Gate. Oo set ye up?"
"Galleon," Zhi growled the name. Small chunks of wood splintered off from the table as she worked her knife back and forth. "Right craven bastard he is, too, hirin' me on an' then -- ye know what he did? I was thinkin' on it, thinkin' how I missed me step, an' it came from him! He gave me the blimmin' crumb what set me on th'trail."
Brindle considered this. "'Ow ye know it was a-purpose?"
"Hear nothin' 'bout that book Lalataru carries?"
"Not solid."
Zhi slapped the table with her free hand. "Right so, an' yet this bastard wants it? Not for no reason he don't, not fer what he's payin'."
"Ain't his fault y'didn't check thrice."
It was the truth in Brindle's words that made Zhi bristle. She started stabbing the table again, the thunks of metal hitting wood forming a counter-rhythm to her words. "Lalataru wants th'name o' me source."
"So?"
"Thinkin' might be time t'cut loose."
Brindle stared at her for a tense few seconds, then he broke down into giggles. "Even th'mighty Zhio takes a turn at bein' craven, is't?"
"I aint craven."
"Yeah? Prove it."
___________
Zhi lived for challenge. That was truth. Zhi lived to stay living. Also truth. At the point the two truths met was where she often found herself, hanging out over the edge and staring death down. That was how she lived. But there was something about Lalataru, about her employer Galleon, about the mess of a job that felt twisted. Something was off between the three, something she couldn't pinpoint, and that took her off course more than she cared to admit. Though she'd set Brindle out on his ear the night before after grilling him for all pertinent information, his words had stuck between her ears. Piss on what people said, but he had set her a challenge. He'd given her something to prove. He was just a dumb kid with a flapping tongue what didn't know when to stop, but he'd made his point. She'd been about to back off from a challenge. A challenge that stood to make her a lot of money.
Greed and her stupid sense of pride won out. She tracked down the woman she'd gotten the information on Lalataru from (short hair, petite, not anything like what she'd told Lalataru). At first she pressed the woman for more information on Lalataru, and was laughed at: "I give you word that the mite has a rotten past chummy with rats for a handful of gil, and you think you can afford the rest?"
As it turned out, she couldn't. Though, truthfully, Zhi couldn't tell if the woman even knew more, or was just putting her on.
"Ye know Galleon, then?" Zhi was grinning at the woman for all she was worth, her fangs on prominent display.
"Don't you just have the most interestin' names on the tip of your tongue. Careful you don't bite it off, dovey."
"He tell ya I was comin'?"
"As it happens, I'll be shippin' out tomorrow. Give your dear little friend my regards, hm?"
"Oh, really? Huh. 'Cause I thinks yer in it deep wi'Galleon, an' holdin' out on me. Whatsit, got his cock so far down yer throat y'can't talk?"
The woman laughed at her, again. The sound was too big for her small frame. Zhi weathered it, beaming at the woman like they were close friends sharing some stupid joke.
"We all have our errands to run, don't we? Best stick to it lest your attempts at cleverness see you caught out."
The conversation went nowhere from there, and Zhi was finally forced to admit defeat. The whole situation baffled her. Something was going on, something that had to do with Lalataru and that book of his, something that her employer and his rutting lapdog didn't want her to know. It made her uneasy. If there was more to the situation then she had been let in on, fine -- but it was seeming more and more like she was some throwaway piece in the game being played. Get the book, she'd been told. You'll probably have to get on Lolotaru's good side; it's not something easily snatched from him. You'll need information on him for that, so if you go to the lower decks. . .
She'd been lead along like a puppy on a string, and it pissed her off. She'd followed the information and hadn't given it a second thought. Why? What was with the runaround? Did they want Lalataru chasing phantoms?
No, Zhi didn't like the rutting mess at all.
_________
Two days had passed before Zhi shadowed the entrance to the Arcanists' Guild again, notebook in hand and clothing unchanged since he'd last seen her. She was curled up in the corner again, watching people walk by as she waited for Lalataru.
