Any Port in a Storm [closed, probably]

[Zhavi]

Two candles were all that lit the innards of the tiny old tailoring shop, casting dim, forgiving light. They were set in the back room, leaving the shop darkened to all but the sharpest of eyes. The sun was setting, though it was hard to tell beneath the covering of clouds; the sky was all of a single shade. It'd been promising rain for the past week, but for a few fitful spurts of drizzle here and there, there'd been nothing. Sailors and Limsa's denizens alike were getting nervous and antsy. Not a few tempers had worn thin as they waited for the storm to burst.

 

The air smelled of electricity, emptied bowels and blood.

 

Zhi looked out of the doorway of the backroom, squinting out into the half-light. The windows had steamed from the surplus of hot water some no-name girl-child belonging to the shop owner had hauled in, and she couldn't see out from her position. Her hands stilled in their task, and she waited, listening, only her ears moving as she searched for some errant sound. Nothing.

 

She spat down into the mess at her knees, a tangled effluvia of death and soap tainting the air. There were worse smells in the city, she reminded herself as she dipped her scrubbing-brush into one of the buckets. There were worse tasks. Unthinking, she lifted her hand to the ear-clasp that pierced her inner ear, perched fat and bloody like some old tick. She picked at it. The silence stretched but for the dim hissing of bubbles popping in one of the buckets. The girl-child had returned twice, setting fresh buckets in the lee of the rear alley-exit. There had been a lot of blood. The bodies, rolled up in old canvas and stacked neatly on a bit of ruined carpet, were a good reminder of why it was necessary that this task be properly finished. She'd been beholden to bond-holders before.

 

With a sigh and a few rolls of her shoulders, she bent back to the task, finding a rhythm in both movement and sound of the hard-bristled brush against the wood and soapy water. After this would come the sweet rushes and incense. It would not do for a lawful tailor shop to smell of such unpleasantness. Just like it wouldn't do for her to bear the weight of unpleasantness that would fall upon her for doing poorly at such a menial job. Zhavi Streetrunner was not especially known for being thorough, but when set to a task with the stick-carrot of pain and coin, she could fulfill and exceed expectations.

 

Time passed in that quiet susurrus of sound and smell.

 

Her guard relaxed.

[Melodia]

Clad in her black tunic and spectacles, Melodia stepped into the shop, her boots clomping against the wooden floor. The tailor shop had been on the inspection list for some time and the prior inspector had done little to enforce compliance. Since she'd taken the position suns before, her connections with the Yellowjackets still paying off, she had made a promise to get caught up. To ensure this list wasn't quite so long, so embarrassingly long and overdue. She had entered the shop and saw no one around. "Hello?" She called out as her eyes wandered over the wares for sale.  

 

The smell hit her nose and she found her mouth slightly turn into a frown. It was blood. A smell she'd grown up around and had her own fair share of cleaning over the years. She'd spilled her own in her life and as the iron touched her nostrils her ears twitched. The next words came with a hint of caution as she locked the door behind her, one hand moving to the blade strapped her waist. "Hello? Someone in here?" She made a cautious move toward the back and the sound came to her...scrubbing. She kept her hand on the hilt of her blade and she called louder. "You in the back....come out...now." She hoped for a misunderstanding and remained cautious as she blocked the exit. While she hoped, she was not optimistic as the amount of blood she could smell was far more than a mere pinprick.

[Zhavi]

Everything went quiet.

 

Zhi looked up, hair plastered to her face, eyes wide. The shop had been closed. They'd all left, the owner, the merchant, the witless investor and his stupid, stupid bodyguards, their contacts, the apprentice --

 

Her hand came up off the brush and slid over the hilt of the dagger at her hip. The apprentice. Everyone had left out the alley when she'd gotten there, everyone but the tailor's apprentice. He'd left out the front. He was supposed to have locked the rutting store. Except he hadn't. Of course. Of course.

 

She got to her feet, knees all creaky stiff. She was splattered in blood, it was soaked into her pants and artfully daubed into her shirt. Hems of sleeves were crusted with it. There was a spare change of clothing, but . . . no. There wasn't any time.

 

She came to the edge of the backroom, looking out, a dim halo of light around her as she grabbed the handle of the door and shut it behind her. She was left in the body of the shop, a silhouette. She was full of hollows and shadows, bones jutting out under her skin to leave gaunt wraiths in their wake, a story of bad decisions and worse secrets. Her eyes were set dark and deep, tired smudges beneath them and framed by dank, limp hair.

 

Beneath the hair, she smelled of sweat. Not the clean sort of sweat, no. Hers was the last resort of a body congested with the worst sorts of excess. It smelled nasty, beneath the blood. Her skin was a study of blemishes: clogged pores, scabs, and old scars.

 

There was a fine tremor to her hands, one on the hilt of a hidden blade and the other pointing towards the intruder -- the kind of tremor that could be expected from a junky needing her next score.

 

"Shop's closed," the streetrunner said, voice gruff and harsh with too many years of drink and smoke. "Get out."

[Melodia]

Melodia was tense, sweat beading on her brow as she heard the door creak. The scrubbing had ceased and the quiet enveloped the shop as the sun set, draping everything in orange and black as the shadows settled. She took a cautious step toward the door and left her fingertips dancing on the hilt of her blade while she spoke in reply. Her head tilted slightly toward the door, ears twitching now.

 

"I'm no' here for a sale...finishing up my inspection rounds." The blood scent was tearing through her sense now and she was widening her stance defensively without realizing she was doing it. That voice...

 

"You can come out. Just need to check some figures and I'll be out o' your hair." Every word was laced with nerves and her eyes were locked to that backroom door.

[Zhavi]

Zhi thought quickly.

 

"Shop's closed. Was an accident. Shop boy stuck hisself wi' his master's shears. Now I'm cleanin' up. Owner ain't here. Come back t'morrow."

 

She stayed in front of the now closed door to the back room, unmoving.

[Melodia]

She listened to the words as they sailed through the air and her eyes narrowed.

 

"Sounds like a bad day f'r the shop boy. But I still need to do my inspection. Have a full day tomorrow...so why don't we just get this take care of now. Come on out and I'll be out of your hair."

 

Another step, the sound of the leather boot against the floor nearly deafening in the silence that hung through the shop, despite her efforts to be quiet in her movement.

[Zhavi]

Zhavi stiffened. "If yer wantin' inspection, ye'll need th' owner. Else yer breakin' yer own laws. Fancy me fetchin' a jack?"

 

Her smile was a sharp edge aimed outwards.

[Melodia]

Her expression hardened as she set the clipboard down. "I'll call them for you...save ye the trouble." Her mind was burning as she tried to pin that voice. It sounded so familiar.

[Zhavi]

"A'right, but I'll not have it said I let ye in on me own willin'. Go on, then. Fetch th' jacks."

 

She stood there, smiling, almost friendly, and waited.

[Melodia]

She pressed closer to the door quietly, her blade now drawn as she spoke, her voice loud enough to hear by the person in the backroom. "Aye...this is Melodia. Possible disturbance over here at the tailor shop...aye tha' one I told ye I was headed to. Owner not on site, someone in the back...send in a few f'r backup. I'd appreciate it."

 

She stared at the door and said in a faux pleasant voice. "Aye, they're on their way now, so we can get this cleared up."

[Zhavi]

As Melodia had initially spoken, Zhi had silently turned and headed for the back door that lead out into the alley, near to the door into the back room, at the rear of the shop.

 

"Ain't losin' me job over this," she said airily, as she got hold of the latch and opened it. "I'm fetchin' th' owner."

 

It was beyond time to go.

[Melodia]

Her ears twitched again, the sound of that voice lilting into them and she clacked her teeth, the old habit dying hard as she spoke.

 

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. You don't need to get the owner if you just talk to me. I'm here on official business...if you're an employee, then maybe you can answer what I need and I can be on my way. It's a matter of just a few moments of your time."

[Zhavi]

Zhavi came to an abrupt stop, and slowly turned around. "Few questions, is't? If it's so simple. . . mayhaps I was speakin' too soon, fancy? If it's such as I can aid, then we've no need fer jacks after all, aye?"

[Melodia]

"Aye....no need to muddle this with any more red tape...or yellow." She gave a chuckle, her face still stern though as she watched the back.

 

With the blade in hand, knowing the front was locked she backed up a step. "Can step out...I know there's blood and ye've told me why it's there. Besides...I need to have a face I'm talking to...not a phantom voice." She pulled the linkpearl out of her ear and set it on the counter. "See? No pearl....no Jacks....no need to be so nervous. This is a routine check..."

 

The bead of sweat rolled down the side of her forehead as she spoke.

 

That voice. The smell of the blood.

 

Her grip on the blade tightened.

[Zhavi]

There was a hard glint in Zhi's eyes, there a moment and gone. What followed was nervous cheer, and babble. "Ain't wantin' t' get meself done up in knots over this, yer understandin', aye? Won't be yer own head gettin' chewed up an' spat out, no it won't, will it? Ye've yer tasks t'do an' I've mine, that's th' way of it, 'tis."

 

She moved as she talked, with the jerky stiffness of a servant who's spilled the dirty mop water. "Ye'll let yer jacks know not t'come here, aye? If me master hears naught o' it, I'll be set back out on th' streets, that I will."

 

Positioning herself opposite the stranger, she stood looking at the abandoned linkpearl, wringing her hands.

[Melodia]

Melodia watched the woman near the door, her hand on the blade tightening ever so slightly and she nodded, a smile on her lips, though with the lighting the woman wouldn't have been able to see it.

 

"Aye...jobs to do..."

 

At the pause...that moment of heavy silence in the air, she heard her old mentor's voice in her head.

 

Now! Damn it girl, move!

 

She moved forward, quicker on her feet than one would think, not slowed by armor and she extended the arm clutching the blade toward the woman.

 

"Hold yer arse still! You've been more'n a bit slick since I walked in here. An' I know tha' voice..." She was mid-sentence when she finally laid eyes on the woman and her world nearly fell through itself.

 

"Seven hells....it's you!"

[Zhavi]

Zhi jerked back, expression wobbling and motions clumsy; it was her keeper night vision that saved her from being cornered against the counter. The room was cluttered with the paraphernalia of tailoring, big and small items alike, and even her quick step-step to the side (still well within the woman's reach, still within cutting distance) didn't give her much room to maneuver.

 

Her wide eyes and gaping mouth settled on surprise and horror: the picture of some innocent being unjustly attacked.

 

"Oy!" she screeched, hands up and defensive, "oy, oy!" as if no other thoughts crossed her crowded head beyond wild panic. After a third step near backed her against a leaning bolt of cloth (which was backed by several crates, itself), she forced out, "O' course I'm meself, why'd I be wantin' t'be anyone else, but I'm thinkin' that's no reason fer ye t'be pointin' sharps at me, no how!"

 

If there is anything to be said for Zhavi Streetrunner, let it be this: the woman liked to drink. She liked to smoke. She liked to imbibe a good many things, the least of which fuzzed her mind and made her tipsy, and the worst of which took chunks from her memory, and distorted the rest. At her worst, she was bad for jobs when she indulged herself, her many addictions turning her hand sloppy when it should be moved with precision.

 

She didn't recognize Melodia, had a blank disconnect between the woman standing before her and the faint, hazy memory of what seemed to be ancient fear, and pain, and hide-and-seek, blurred under yellow smears and a sneering face she couldn't quite make out in her mind's eye.

 

For Zhi, the deception was still on, despite the deep and growing uncertainty that this woman standing in front of her might have recognized her from something off one of the long-since-litter bounties that had been placed on her head, most made impractical since she'd been towed out to sea too many times, for too long; hunters had better profits to chase than such a small-time scut as herself.

 

So, she kept up her mask of some stupid young worker, holding out to confuse the other out of whatever recollection or idea had gone off in her head.

[Melodia]

The movements didn't surprise her. This one had always been a slippery sort, had gotten away like the wind itself had swallowed her whole at one point moons ago. So as she worked to evade her lunge, she believed it....understood it.

 

What befuddled her was the seeming confusion expressed by the woman. She hissed and her hand trembled as the blade was outstretched.

 

"Ye hush!" Her voice was as shaky as her hand, memories flooding back to the encounters in the Drowning Wench, how much a naïve fool she'd been back then. "Y-Ye hush...." Her accent was back in force as she was stressed, unable to focus as she normally did. "Yer gonna sit....an' we're gonna talk, Kink....ye an' I..."

 

Bringing the blade closer, Melodia whispered, eyes narrowed behind her glasses, "An' I'm no' gonna take no f'r an answer."

[Zhavi]

Thrice-cursed tail!

 

Zhavi, no real study in subtlety once the illusion had been breached, brought forth a cheshire grin, toothy and sly. Her instinct was to get somewhere high, and she obeyed it, pivoting off the floor to get a foot onto a crate, and then hauling herself up the bolt and steadying herself on the stack of crates near the bolts of cloth -- one foot on each. Precarious position, and she could feel the cloth (tall and heavy though it was) starting to give way.

 

She wasn't sure she hadn't been sliced as she'd moved, the blade had been that close, but with her heart pumping and her surety that the cavalry would come bursting through either door any moment, she wasn't sure she'd feel it just then.

 

She pulled a knife out from her belt. It was a tool meant for everyday uses (the dual blades she'd begun to train in having been banned her since an unfortunate accident with one of the heavies some rich so-and-so her boss had been contracted with kept on the payroll, who'd made one jibe too many and had caught her blade through his boot for his troubles -- when he wasn't looking, of course, since she wasn't of real use in a real fight just yet), but that didn't mean its edge was incapable of drawing blood. Or killing someone, if it came to that.

 

Edges were useful like that.

 

"Welcome t'livin'," Zhi snarled, kicking one of the bolts toppling over towards the strange and really blimmin' unwanted woman.

[Melodia]

The woman was impossibly fast. She'd always been slippery and as Melodia watched Kink leap atop the stack of crates she cursed. "No! No' again!"

 

The knife came into view and she knew there was a real danger for her. Of all the time she'd encountered and pursued the wily Miqo'te she'd never once had a weapon drawn on her.

 

Until now.

 

When the bolt of cloth was kicked down upon her, she let out a scream of frustration and as she moved to dodge it as best she could, knowing she was going to take a hit, she swung her blade hard against the crate. Her voice was a near growl of rage. "Down here ye slippery lit'le bitch!"

 

The words were harsh but she was no longer in the mood for games with this one. The prey she'd obsessed about for moons was in her grasp and she was not letting her escape into the winds again.

[Zhavi]

Zhavi sneered, cackling in delight as she kicked off another bolt of cloth and transferred all of her weight to the stack of crates. As it turned out, the stack of crates was not quite built to handle so much weight, scrawny though she was. Her foot broke through one of the slats, trapping her leg and throwing her off balance. Melodia's kick was the final straw for the stack, and it tipped. "Shit!"

 

Then, dragged by the contents of the pile, Zhi crashed back down near to Melodia, arms and legs tucked in as best as she could manage. It was still a bad landing. Zhi was bleeding. She yanked at her leg -- it was stuck right good - and held up her knife.

 

With her other hand, she pulled out a small bag of coin. "Call 'em off?"

 

Her grin was not quite disarming.

[Melodia]

The crash surprised Melodia but she'd been trained. She knew this one better than Kink had assumed. Taurin, her old mentor, was in her thoughts at that chaotic moment, voice sure and calm. "You have her...relax and take the situation in hand."

 

She extended her blade toward the fallen woman and she hissed. "I don' want your coin and put that knife away 'fore it winds up somewhere that'd do harm."

 

She was breathing heavily and she let out a small frustrated shout. "Gods damn it woman! Ye make it nearly impossible t' even talk! I'm no' tryin' to take ye in....or run ye through. I will if I need t' do it but I. Simply. Want. T' TALK!"

 

Her voice was angry and she was breathing hard but...

 

She couldn't help but smile. The entire moment was insane and she hadn't expected to see Kink again, let alone here. So it was absurd....and yet she smiled because of it. And because it reminded her of her youth. For the first time in a long time....she was a kid aboard the pirate vessel again.

[Zhavi]

The grin faltered but didn't quite disappear. Neither did the coins. "Call 'em off." She was wheedling. She was bleeding onto the bag. Blood money. How appropriate.

[Melodia]

Melodia let out a sigh, shaking her head which was still a bit rattled by the cords having been toppled onto her. She noted the blood...could smell its freshness and she gestured with the sword. "Drop th' blade...an' put that coin away. Hells I don' need yer money." She nodded to the wound.

 

"You're hurt...drop th' blade and let me get you out of that. But know if ye try anythin'...I'll slice ye open and ensure the Jackets find yer corpse later."

 

She waited a beat then followed with, "I ain't anglin' f'r a scrap...I think ye an' I past tha' stage anymore."

[Zhavi]

The coin did disappear, but the knife didn't. With a three inch blade, it wasn't exactly the most threatening weapon in the world, but Zhi handled it as if Melodia's name was carved into the metal. With a twist and a hop, she got her leg free of the crate, took two steps back and stumbled over the spilled contents of another crate, and wound up in a crouch. She was hissing out curses, and deaf to Melodia's reasoned words.

 

"They'll never take me," she said, "so call 'em off or I'm gone."