Zhavi kept pace with those who were forced by circumstance or design out into the rain. She darted from cover to cover, milling about under overhangs and awnings until room cleared to move to the next one. They were just a few more faceless passersby having to deal with the shite weather like anyone else. No one important. No one worth noticing. Zhi was old hat at being forgettable; her face was boring, the sort that a fellow could look at and not see as his eyes passed over faces and cityscape alike. Mayhaps it was no wonder she'd slid into the life she had. Another girl might have despaired at being plain, at being something the glittering upper class would consider ugly, but it was a boon to Zhi.
Thatcher was another rutting story altogether. She hadn't been born with a forgettable face. She hadn't been born with the sort of physical appearance that lent itself to cockiness and meekness at various turns; she was noticeable. She was remarkable.
She was acting right stupid.
Zhi stopped them in a deep alcove in a side street that had fallen to disrepair. It was cut into the side of one of the spires, two buildings deep and not somewhere people typically went. The businesses were failing miserably, and only the cats and rats had anything positive to think of it. It was just slightly above the lower decks, and looked as if the whole chunk of buildings might just slide quietly into the sea. That's how miserable it looked.
"Right," she said, eyeing Thatcher. "Ye hired me on fer information, so I'm gonna split me tongue and spit it to ye. Ye ain't a runner, an' ye ain't some beggar. Ye're a lass wi'eyes on ye. Ruttin' act like it. I've got words comin' in from all angles about how ye're actin', and they ain't nice. Ye want t'mope about lookin' drunk an' like a slattern, ye cover up yer ruttin' hair an' put some effort towards keepin' yer face unknown. Ye go out anywhere in th'open, ye put on yer iron mask an' ye show th'world ye ain't one t'be messed with. I don't blimmin' care whether'r not ye got hits out on yer crew -- when ye go out, yer th'boss. Th'boss don't feckin' care 'bout th'dogs under her heel. She spits on 'em. She shows 'em wi'her smile and her stones that she's gonna pay 'em back a hunnerd times fer what they do to her own. No matter what's goin' on. Ye unnerstand? I can't do me ruttin' job if yer goin' 'round helpin' yer enemies."
She took a breath. "Th'tail's one o'yers, right?"
Thatcher was another rutting story altogether. She hadn't been born with a forgettable face. She hadn't been born with the sort of physical appearance that lent itself to cockiness and meekness at various turns; she was noticeable. She was remarkable.
She was acting right stupid.
Zhi stopped them in a deep alcove in a side street that had fallen to disrepair. It was cut into the side of one of the spires, two buildings deep and not somewhere people typically went. The businesses were failing miserably, and only the cats and rats had anything positive to think of it. It was just slightly above the lower decks, and looked as if the whole chunk of buildings might just slide quietly into the sea. That's how miserable it looked.
"Right," she said, eyeing Thatcher. "Ye hired me on fer information, so I'm gonna split me tongue and spit it to ye. Ye ain't a runner, an' ye ain't some beggar. Ye're a lass wi'eyes on ye. Ruttin' act like it. I've got words comin' in from all angles about how ye're actin', and they ain't nice. Ye want t'mope about lookin' drunk an' like a slattern, ye cover up yer ruttin' hair an' put some effort towards keepin' yer face unknown. Ye go out anywhere in th'open, ye put on yer iron mask an' ye show th'world ye ain't one t'be messed with. I don't blimmin' care whether'r not ye got hits out on yer crew -- when ye go out, yer th'boss. Th'boss don't feckin' care 'bout th'dogs under her heel. She spits on 'em. She shows 'em wi'her smile and her stones that she's gonna pay 'em back a hunnerd times fer what they do to her own. No matter what's goin' on. Ye unnerstand? I can't do me ruttin' job if yer goin' 'round helpin' yer enemies."
She took a breath. "Th'tail's one o'yers, right?"
