RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Melkire · **05-06-2014, 06:03 PM**

Up. She'd gone up. Of course; why hadn't he thought of that?

'Cause I was Problemsolver. Wasn't ever any kinda Streetrunner.

He quit bangin' his fool noggin against the marble, rested it there instead, and opened his eyes to smile up at Kink. Her mad rictus didn't worry him none; 'twas the shite-eating grin of a professional, and a professional was what he needed right now.

"Aight. Standard rates, and an extra three hundred for y'troubles." He frowned. "I'm ever in town again and ye're needin' more, don't be piss yellow 'bout touchin' me. I'd owe you for this."

He dropped his head back down to stare at the opposite wall: worn, battered, wet, covered in Llymlaen's own moss.

"Papers're like as not locked up tight at their headquarters on the Aftcastle. Maelstrom Command. North Tower oughta be Records Administration. That's a floor up, at least, behind locked doors and guarded hallways."

He looked back up, sober and straight-faced, to impress on her how serious this was.

"That's why I'm willin' t'pay Nald's own fortune for this job. Gods-damned difficult. You'll need to hire out to even get in... so. Expenses. Anything you need, anyone you hire, let me know. I'll front the cost. Can't pay you more," he smirked. "but that doesn't mean I can't pay others."

He pushed himself to his feet, gathered up his belongings, took one last look at Dax, her not seven years past bein' the up-and-coming star runner o' the streets, and got out his purse and a spare bag. In went half her fee - three hundred and sixty, if m'numbers are right and m'head's not muddled, seventy 'cause I'm new, two hundred fifty for a job done, a hundred for danger, three hundred extra for drowning her, cut that in half, it's three hundred and sixty - and up went the bag in an underhanded toss.

"I'll be at the Mizzenmast. Room twenty-three. We square?"

Zhavi · **05-06-2014, 06:23 PM**

Zhavi caught the bag out of the air. She made him wait while she counted the coin, and then a little longer as she divided it up and secreted it away. Even secured purses could give a telling jingle, and as quick as she needed to move, she'd long ago ceased carrying purses once she was on. Her grin had remained in place as he'd talked: she'd chosen cocky for her armor, and she wore it with no small amount of practice.

"Find Yayabuko. Tell 'im t'get me a picker an' a trouper -- he'll know where t'send 'em. Then y'might wanna pay 'im fer his trouble and his silence, since ye tapped him in yer game."

She made to move, body arcing outwards as she prepared to finish her climb to the roof, but stopped. "I ain't gonna ask who ye are. Most time I don't care. But ye come sniffin' 'round me grounds an' steppin' on me tail again, won't be me floatin' facedown in th'docks. Aye, we're square, Clodhopper."

Her body was taut, held in limbo as she kept herself secure against the sill and the wall. Grin still present, she stared down at him -- bold as you please.

Melkire · **05-06-2014, 10:33 PM**

"Done, then."

Five. He'd killed five of them. Three of 'em children. Killed them with a bag o' coin and a mouthful o' words. His knives had only sealed whatever blood pact he had goin' with Thal. Thal, and Rhalgr.

His stomach was still churning when he finally sat down to the table farthest from the bar. He kicked his legs up and onto the tabletop, pushing back in his chair 'til he was leaning so far that the seat was balanced, poised, on its two hind legs. The Wench wasn't particularly busy tonight, and that might've been why the short-haired brunette at the counter spotted him so quickly.

The Miqo'te lad had been bad enough; jumped on the way to Yayabuko, and he'd been obliged to slit the kit's throat and give the body to the Navigator's waters. The Lalafell lass would've been the worst, though... had it not been for the Hyur lad.

Thomys. That could've been Thomys.

His eyes fixed on Corinna as the serving girl made her way over.

Murderer. You're a murderer. I'm a murderer. Gods, why did I ever let you outta the brig? Why'd I bring you topside? Shoulda left you in the bilge to rot.

The boy in his head scowled as he shoved Osric aside. Weren't any time for this self-pityin' gobshite. He dropped his eyes as the girl came up to him, pad 'n' quill in hand, ready to take his order.

"What are you doin' here," she hissed at him through a forced smile full of clenched teeth.

"Cori," he said in a whisper, "shut up and listen to me. Take the rest of the night off. The next three nights. Tell'm ye'll be over at the Bismarck, for extra lessons. Get word home t'Ma. Keep Tom off the streets. And ask ol' Baddy if I can have twenty-three at the 'mast. I'm going to need it."

"Ossy..."

He didn't look up at her; he didn't care to see the concern in her eyes. Bad enough that he could hear it catching in her throat.

"Ossy, are you working again?"

He grit his teeth. 'Course he was working again. Why else would he be here, when she'd told him outright, four years ago, told him - near spat in his face, really - to never, ever visit the Wench during her shift?

"Piss 'n' blood, Cori, move your ass. I've got a problem. Don't make it worse."

A moment's harsh silence... and then came the scribble and scratch of quill on paper.

"Yessir, that'll be one glass, comin' right up. Thank you."

She bowed, arms folded over her pad, then stormed off. A single glass of pineapple juice arrived not a minute later; he looked up, and caught Tenfinger's eye. The man at the bar nodded. The boy drained the glass in one long pull, slammed it back onto the table, slipped out of his chair, and made his way over to the Mizzenmast.

Two flights of stairs, a door, and one dead would-be assassin later, and he was in twenty-three.

Dirk Problemsolver was back in town, and gods damn did he have a problem.

Zhavi · **05-06-2014, 11:44 PM**

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.

Melkire · **05-19-2014, 04:29 PM**

((wtb delete function for accidental double-posts; Wizard, pls))

Melkire · **05-19-2014, 04:31 PM**

((This post takes place after the events ofÂ this thread.))

The captain sat on the deck just larboard of the mizzenmast; with a flick of His wrist, He sent the knife downward again.

Thunk.

Wrenched it out...

Thunk.

Floorboard was full of holes, now...

Thunk.

He reached for the hilt again, took it and eased the blade back and forth out of the wood. He glared at His opposite the entire time. Same brown bandana. Same brown shirt. Same brown gloves, pants, boots... insulting, was what it was. Disgusting. Revolting. He glared at the man for a moment more.

"Don't recall invitinâ€™ you aboard."

The man smiled where he stood, white teeth immaculate as he leaned lazily to one side, shoulder against a stack of crates that hadnâ€™t been offloaded yet, legs crossed, arms folded.

â€œBut of course you didnâ€™t, dear.â€

The man stood up straight, came sauntering His way, one hand on his hip, the other resting on his cheek as he shook his head and smiled mournfully at the captain.

â€œOh, Osric, Osric, Osricâ€¦ you poor thingâ€¦ poor, darlinâ€™ thingâ€¦ Iâ€™ll explain, shall I? Yesâ€¦.â€

The man walked around Him, dropped into a crouch behind Him, draped his arms over His shoulders and around Him, and whispered into His earâ€¦

"I was here all along. You were me once, remember? Then you hid me away, put me to sleep for six long, cold yearsâ€¦ and then," a hand slipped inside His shirt, â€œthat night with Terynâ€¦ with Rose,â€ palm slid down along his chest, his belly, headed forâ€¦ â€œwell, that woke me up--"

The captainâ€™s free hand shot up and seized the manâ€™s arm, squeezing hard as the knife in His right hand came around to rest the bladeâ€™s point over his left shoulder onto the manâ€™s throat.

â€œNot in the mood. Hands off.â€

A laugh, sunny, graceful, the kind of laugh that was cherished for its flattery. â€œBut of course.â€

He let go, and the hand receded as the man stood, stood over Him, casting a shadow over the captain, who askedâ€¦

â€œYou say that woke you upâ€¦ but that was a week ago, more...â€

â€œI didnâ€™t have a voice.â€ Footsteps sounded out against the wood as the man circled Him. â€œYou wouldnâ€™t let me have oneâ€¦ not untilâ€¦â€

The captain closed his eyes. â€œSedalyne.â€

â€œâ€¦a silvery tongue.â€ The footsteps stopped in front of him; He opened His eyes and looked up. â€œShe taught you, and that time, you didnâ€™t just enjoy itâ€¦ you learned. So here I am, here, now, the lovechild.â€ The man bowed with a flourish, arms out to either side, hands open, palms up, wrists bent back.

â€œâ€¦I donâ€™t want you.â€

â€œYou have no choice,â€ the man replied as he straightened again and met his captainâ€™s eyes, green on green. â€œNot only am I required for your newâ€¦ mmmâ€¦ professionâ€¦ I am your needs, your wants, your desires, given form and voice and grace. You canâ€™t be rid of me.â€

The man pirouetted in place, then bowed again.

â€œAfter all, are we not all a part of you? Is this not how your mind,â€ a brief wave of the hand to take in the ship, â€œworks?â€

The captain frowned as the man straightened again.

"One vast vessel, crewed by a wealth of experience that you have chosen to divvy up by era and utility.Â Is that not what we are, the lot of us? Little Ossy, the child; Rings, the thief; Dirk, the killer; Melkire--"

â€œI was done makinâ€™ more of you. Am done makinâ€™ more. Youâ€™re the last. Ossy!â€

Another pair of footsteps sounded as a third man walked forward out of nowhere, neatly and cleanly materializing before them. The same face, but this one dressed in a fashionable blue doublet with grey pants and jackboots. The deck creaked loudly beneath his weight, though he appeared no larger nor any heavier than his twins. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he beamed at them.

The companion turned to the newcomer and smiled. â€œAh. Itâ€™s you.â€

â€œBeen a while.â€

â€œâ€¦it has, hasnâ€™t it? Why are you still following His orders, helmsman? You, strongest of us all; you who, alone among us, could subdue his own master?"

The newcomer drew one hand out to point down at Osric.

â€œHe has the Writ; His is the Right.â€

The escort pouted mockingly. â€œYou were always such a stickler for rules.â€

Osric scowled as he turned his head to look up at the man in blue. â€œOssy, this one has his uses, but Iâ€™d rather not giveâ€™m the run of the ship. Heâ€™s to be held in the brig â€˜til called for. That understood?â€

â€œYes, capâ€™n.â€

He turned to look once more at the man he despised. â€œAnd just what am I tâ€™call you?â€

The whore smiled and bowed again.

â€œCall me Oz.â€

Zhavi · **05-20-2014, 03:24 PM**

Quiruru Quiru arrived first. The plainswoman was dressed in dark, murky colors; the sort that wouldn't stand out either in the water or against the stone that housed the north tower. Her hair was tied up in a high tail, and she wore goggles. Zhi couldn't see her eyes, but thought her to be cheerful, even without the telling smile. Unlike most who haunted the lower city, Quiru was rarely in a bad mood or had anything but a pleasant expression. That might have earned her scorn, except for the fact that, at least among Zhi's kind, she was the best there was at breaking and entering. Truth be told, Zhi wouldn't have been able to afford her had not the woman wanted into the north tower for her own reasons.

They nodded to each other. They were both comfortable in the silence. They didn't have long to wait before their third showed up. Chirp. As loud and crafty a distraction as anyone could be.

"How long d'ya need t'swim t'the base and climb up?" Chirp was looking at Zhi.

It was Quiru who answered. "Ten!"

Zhi shot her a look.

Quiru's return grin was a work of art. "Kitty-cats can keep up, can't they?"

"Fifteen," Zhi said.

"Too tardy a time! Take my trials to heart: your tail will be tweaked if you tarry. Ten!"

Zhi hesitated. Quiru marked the hesitation. She turned to Chirp and held up all ten fingers. "Ten!" She hoisted up her gear and turned back to Zhi. "Now we go."

Then Quiru was scrambling down the rock to the water below. Zhi exchanged a glance with Chirp. "Slow ten," Chirp said, her smile wry.

"Yeah, whatever. Jes as long as yer loud." Zhi stripped off the loose overshirt she wore. The shirt underneath was tighter to her body. "Hold, Quiru, lemme carry some o'yer gear --" Zhi scrambled down after Quiru and caught her right as she was about to hop into the water. "Cold enough t'twist yer nipples, 'tis, an' I'm a better swimmer asides."

"Swimming, sailing -- don't sweat o'er the skills you solicited me for."

"Err, right. . .jes hand me th'rig, at least." Zhi pointed to the waterproof lockbox Quiru carried.

Once they'd haggled over the gear, settled on a compromise, and gotten into the water, they wound up at the base of the tower with only a few minutes to spare. Numbed fingers and feet made the climb more arduous than it should have been -- and as a result, Zhi heard Chirp's shrieks split the air long before Quiru managed to get one of the high windows open, and them inside.

Everything needed for the climb was left behind the thick drapes. The dripping was unfortunate, but nothing about the job was clean, couldn't be with such a harsh timeline.

The papers they needed were locked inside a cabinet alongside other such papers. The occupant of the office had retired for the night, and the night's watch had been drawn by Chirp's shrieking demands -- something to do with a married man and a bastard, if Zhi heard right. Still, dealing with a hysterical woman about personal matters would only require two of the guards at best, no matter how hard she struggled.

Quiru took out one of the guards with a hollow needle filled with a potent soporific. It laid him out -- not enough to paralyze him and kill him, not something that would knock him out cold and do potential damage -- just enough to make him limp and delirious. Zhi gagged him and tied him to a sturdy desk as Quiru read out the papers to her.

"Seems the sod sailed with several names. So it says --" Quiru listed the names in her soothing voice, chuckling over "Ghost" -- "What a long time it's been since I've last heard that name!"

Zhi grunted, finished, and gestured Quiru towards the door. She waited by it, ears focused on the small sounds in the hallway beyond, when Quiru reached the last name.

No.

She froze.

"Nim? We've need to nip out now."

Zhi's ears flickered back, "Oh. . .aye, jes though I heard. . .summat. We're clear."

They slipped out into the hallway, and back to the first office.

Quiru chatted amiably as they geared back up, talking about past jobs and dropping hints about the one that had driven her to help Zhi with the tower. "It'd be folly for favors betwixt friends, but fair for fruitful trade. Wouldn't you say?"

Zhi's lips quirked into a small, warm smile. "Always enjoyed me jobs wi'ye, Quiruru Quiru."

Quiru chuckled and got into the window, regeared back up and ready to scale the climb back down. "Getting soft? Galili would grey to hear you glad-gadding like this!"

Zhi secured the waterproof container that held the papers tight about her so it would not fall off in the water. She gave Quiru one last, bright smile before she climbed down too.

No.

They were nearing the rocky outcropping they'd started from some half a bell prior when Zhi swam up alongside Quiru. The lalafell's swimming stroke stuttered as she turned her head to say something, ask something. She was smiling.

It wasn't personal.

The first blow caught Quiru off guard. Right off the temple. Enough to make her sink a little. Enough for Zhi to wrap an arm around her throat, and her legs around the smaller woman's. Zhi'd gotten several deep breaths before, preparing her lungs.

They sank.

It wasn't personal.

The resistance Quiru's clothing and flesh gave to Zhi's knife was minimal. Quiru wasn't weak, but she was in a bad position to get any leverage on Zhi. She'd panicked when they went under, and air had escaped her in giant bubbles. She'd tried to thrash and kick, but she'd sucked down water. She'd always been a weak swimmer.

Blood in the water. The predators of the deep would arrive, eventually. But Zhi wasn't taking risks. She clumsily looped Quiru's lockbox around the lalafell's body -- blood was forming a cloud, getting in her face, her hair, her eyes -- before she let her former partner go.

It wasn't personal.

Zhi surfaced alone. The swim back to the rocks was hard. She couldn't feel her hands anymore, and her arms and legs barely did what she wanted them to. Her knife was missing. She'd have to get a new one. She stripped off her wet clothes, stuck them under a rock to fetch later. The large shirt she'd left was put on in its stead, hitting her at mid-thigh. It would do until she was able to get new pants.

She was shivering hard when Chirp met her at their second pre-arranged spot.

"Where's Quiruru?"
"Another job she'd t'get to. Ye know how she is."

Chirp laughed. "Eager, she is. Right, right, probably didn't want me t'call 'er a drowned rat."

Zhi smirked, and laughed along. "Oh, aye, an' she looked th'part, too."

She had to protect herself. No one else would do that.

"Finish th'job, then?" Chirp rubbed her hands together.

"Aye. Here's yer cut." Zhi fumbled the gil, and it went spilling onto the ground.

"Drinkin' on the job, are we?"

"Water's ruttin' cold, 'sall." Zhi watched Chirp pick them up. She couldn't keep her fingers closed around the coins.

"Aye, yer shakin' worse'n a doxy on her first spread." Chirp clapped her on the back. "Good run. Feel free t'spend yer coin on me any time, Streetrunner."

They parted ways.

No one else would protect her secrets.

Zhi went to one of her hiding spots, changed and got her hair as dry as she could. Her hands were still ice cold by the time she reached the Mizzenmast, by the time she reached room twenty-three. At least she'd stopped shivering so hard. She blew on her hands to warm them, and picked the locks. She didn't care if he heard her. She wasn't in a mood to knock. The door eventually opened, and Zhavi Streetrunner stepped inside, bold as you please.

The only person she could trust was herself.

Melkire · **05-21-2014, 06:10 PM**

He sat on a chair in the middle of the room, hunched over, scraping away at a knife with his whetstone. The locks on the door... he glanced up in surprise. Only one who wouldn't give a damn 'bout keeping that sort o' racket down'd be...

It's her.

...she's early. Her Highness, she said. Not here.

The door fell open, and she strode in after it, straight-faced and... he grimaced at the smell. Stinkin' wet Miqo'te was not a pleasant smell to begin with; sea salt didn't help matters.Â

Somethin's wrong. Somethin's gone wrong.

Who did he need right now? Dirk, for certain, and...

All of them. I need all of them.

He closed his eyes, exhaled, and breathed in, and then he was there, his very presence a tangible weight on the room, on the air. So very much alive... he looked back up, stared at her through the holes in his bandana.

"Hello, Kink."

Zhavi · **05-21-2014, 07:57 PM**

Zhi locked the door behind her. She put away her picks. She took out the waterproof case that yet held the papers. She walked up to Melkire. She stood toe to toe with him. She leaned closer.

"Ye've been a busy lad, ye have."

Melkire · **05-21-2014, 07:59 PM**

The scraping stopped. He froze. Glared up at her.

"...aye?"

Zhavi · **05-21-2014, 08:02 PM**

Her eyes were empty. She reached out with the hand that didn't have the case in it, and rested it on the back of his chair. "I found yer secrets."

The case was dangled in front of his face.

Melkire · **05-21-2014, 08:08 PM**

It took everything he had - the little one's blissful obliviousness, Rings' aptitude for false-facing, Dirk's love for bluffing, Melkire's inhumanity,Â Ossy's self-control,Â the sergeant's stoicism - it took everything he had to keep from blanching.

"...oh?"

Zhavi · **05-21-2014, 08:12 PM**

If he had been miqo'te, maybe he would have smelled the blood. Quiru's blood. Maybe. As it was, the stink of her, of the ocean, would be oppressive that close.

"I'll be takin' me coin now." Her voice was soft. Almost gentle. Almost forgiving.

Melkire · **05-21-2014, 08:20 PM**

Slowly, carefully --Â leaving the hand with the knife in it where it was, he wasn't stupid --Â he dropped the whetstone into one belt pouch and reached into another. He came up with a small bag and held it out to her, held it by the neckÂ between index and middle finger, palm turned up and waiting for the case.

"...y'gonna count it? 'cause I've no reason t'roll you f'such a pittance."

Zhavi · **05-21-2014, 08:29 PM**

Zhi removed her hand from the chair, took the pouch, and tucked it into her belt. She straightened, and dropped the case into his lap.

There she stood, straight as an arrow, staring down at him. Her face was lax. Several beats passed. The silence was heavy. When she turned, it was abrupt; a fluid burst of energy that took her to the door on silent feet. She unlocked it. Her head was bent as if she was studying the knob when she said, "Melkire. I can't stop ye from enterin' th'city again. But ye best stay away from me takes. Stay away from me. I'll be keepin' an ear out fer yer names." She turned her head slightly to the side. The curve of her cheek was visible under the tangle of her hair. "I'll use 'em if it need be."

She opened the door, and took a step through the doorway.

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Winner Takes All [completed]

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes