The scales were tipping back and forth, weight settling slowly into a balance. Which way would it end up? Nald'thal was surely ready to tip it against Zhi's favor, oh aye he was.
Stop that.
Zhi sat on a bench, skin prickling under the fading light of the sun. The day was edging towards evening (not nearly fast enough), not that it helped so close to the reflection of the water. She waited near the Zephyr Gate and the Chocobokeep. Sweat stained her clothes at armpits and at the back of her neck where her hair met the collar of her shirt. For once, she wasn't dressed too badly: none of the clothing had holes (though the left knee of her trousers was patched), and only a few old stains along hemlines. Nothing too obvious. Nothing too noticeable. It was like the bench: stand out along a path or near a door, and people would eventually take note. But a bench -- ahh, as long as you didn't look homeless people would assume you were waiting for someone or something.
The key was to look innocent. Zhi could manage that well enough. Sad little street girl, not a thieving bone in her body!
As if.
Impatience was held at bay by the slimmest of threads. Zhi'd met with her two partners for the job, and they'd hashed out the plan. Each had spent the prior day and the early part of this one preparing. Now or never. Tomorrow she'd need to hand the papers over, or call it off. Assuming they didn't get caught. Or killed.
Focus, girl.
She watched her surroundings with a practiced eye, taking care not to make herself obvious. The shivers were coming on. Her body knew the job was at hand. Soon, adrenaline would be dumped into her system, and she would be able to feed the monster inside that wanted its share of danger. Always more. There was never enough.
Soon.
Stop that.
Zhi sat on a bench, skin prickling under the fading light of the sun. The day was edging towards evening (not nearly fast enough), not that it helped so close to the reflection of the water. She waited near the Zephyr Gate and the Chocobokeep. Sweat stained her clothes at armpits and at the back of her neck where her hair met the collar of her shirt. For once, she wasn't dressed too badly: none of the clothing had holes (though the left knee of her trousers was patched), and only a few old stains along hemlines. Nothing too obvious. Nothing too noticeable. It was like the bench: stand out along a path or near a door, and people would eventually take note. But a bench -- ahh, as long as you didn't look homeless people would assume you were waiting for someone or something.
The key was to look innocent. Zhi could manage that well enough. Sad little street girl, not a thieving bone in her body!
As if.
Impatience was held at bay by the slimmest of threads. Zhi'd met with her two partners for the job, and they'd hashed out the plan. Each had spent the prior day and the early part of this one preparing. Now or never. Tomorrow she'd need to hand the papers over, or call it off. Assuming they didn't get caught. Or killed.
Focus, girl.
She watched her surroundings with a practiced eye, taking care not to make herself obvious. The shivers were coming on. Her body knew the job was at hand. Soon, adrenaline would be dumped into her system, and she would be able to feed the monster inside that wanted its share of danger. Always more. There was never enough.
Soon.
