Innocence and Avarice [closed]

[Goodfellow]

Lolotaru watched perplexed as Joz's face played out the strange internal struggle.  He listened to her prevarications patiently.  "Miss Joz, I appreciate your concern, but you needn't concern yourself overmuch with my person or any under my employ.  I've lived in dangerous times and places myself," he said, stopping shy of winking.  He gave a slight bow and turned to go.

 

As he walked, he began to run through a catalogue of his contacts and retainers and employers in his mind.  Now who to send...

[Zhavi]

"Six-an'-a-half bells!" Zhi said, in lieu of a proper farewell.

 

It was with greater care than usual that she made her way back to the little inn she was staying at, the one that had been gifted to her rent free by Galleon. She'd told Brindle to make his bunk there, since she'd suspected Lalataru would eventually want to know where Joz was staying, and Joz wouldn't have the money to stay at an inn. Zhi'd paid the little beggar family that inhabited a section of the abandoned house in the Reach to get out of it, and had since situated it with the sorts of trappings that would befit a streetrat-turned-beggar. The inn would be left to Brindle, though she'd warned him against damages, and near spit him on his own blade when he hadn't shown signs of hearing her. After all, her choice to do damage to such items as the table was different from if he chose to. She'd be the one answering to Galleon if the innkeep complained, not Brindle.

 

So, Brindle was there to greet her when she came inside the little room, huddling in her ragpicker's clothes. "Fine day t'go slummin'," she said. The clouds that had evaded her those few days ago when she'd first met Lalataru had finally rolled in, and the air smelled of rain. Sleeping around puddles was in her future, she just knew it.

 

Brindle didn't even look up, he just snickered. He was busy with a game of dice, but he was listening.

 

"I'll be off th'marks fer a bit. I'll drop in when I can. Extra coin fer th'room, if th'paid rent wears thin. If I'm findin' ye've spent it on vice, I'll have done an' slit yer worthless throat meself. Got it?"

 

Brindle rolled his eyes and muttered something. Zhi ignored the insult and continued. "Ain't much time. I've tole ye where t'find Clove, ye know the meetin' times. If ye've need o'more talk, I've paid Chirp extra, so use her. Stay off Thatcher's enemies, they're keen on ye since last time. Ye hearin' me?"

 

Brindle grunted assent, deigning to tear his eyes away from his game to give her an unimpressed stare.

 

"Ye feck up me take, I'll take it out yer hide. Fancy?"

 

"Yeah, yeah. I wasn't born yesterday."

 

"Coulda fooled me. Sell this lot off," she toed one of the pieces of her various get-ups, "keep th'gil. If th'Skites come sniffin', ye pay 'em. Don't haggle on it."

 

Brindle nodded, his expression overtaken by the special sort of boredom only teenagers have truly mastered. Zhi gave him a long look, and hesitated. "Don't get yerself killed, kid. Fair winds."

 

Brindle rolled his eyes at her. She kicked a sandal at him, smirked at the outraged squawk as it connected, and had the door safely shut before Brindle's return sally could hit her. The muffled thump brought a smile to her face, and then she was off for the Reach.

 

_____________

 

At six-and-a-half bells, it was raining. It wasn't a bad sort of rain, the kind that soaked you in seconds, but a miserable drizzle that fell from clouds that promised further misery. That was spring for you. Zhi was crouched on the side of the street that connected to the Reach, hands tucked into her armpits and tail tucked up between her legs and under the tatty coat she'd kept for just such a purpose. Rain was a given in Limsa Lominsa, and even if the coat didn't keep her from getting wet, it did provide her with a little extra warmth. Lalataru and his rutting kindness were not doing her any favors, that was for sure. She wrapped her arms around her knees in an unconscious pantomime of the day they'd first met (the main difference being her sour expression), and she waited for his man (woman?) to show up so she could get out of the rain and go spend quality time in the old wreck of a building she'd paid good gil for.

 

What fun.

[Goodfellow]

Through wind and over the rain came a rumbling.  Not thunder, but a voice, largish and good-humored with a hint of tested patience.

 

"You Taru's girl?  Got a sack a food an' whatnot won't be wantin' to get much wetter."

[Zhavi]

Zhi startled at the voice; she'd been aware of the passage of bodies, the roe's included, but it was a large voice. It tickled her ears, even in the rain, and she looked up. . .and up at the approaching figure. There was annoyance at first, until she remembered that 'Taru' was something those familiar with Lalataru called him. Right. That should have been first thought on her mind. She should have had something to eat. Her ears flicked back and forth, and she adopted an uneasy expression as she rose to her feet. "Taru. . .? Master Lolotaru?" Her eyes lit upon the sack as the realization of food hit. "I'll show ye th'way."

 

With a bounce, she hopped up and turned to the well-worn stairs that had been cut into the rock, leading to the Reach below. "Watch th'steps. Kids take turns scrubbin' 'em, but they're always slimier'n a bottomfish when it rains."

[Goodfellow]

The roegadyn loosed a guffaw as he followed the miqo'te.  "Worry fer yer own arse, girl.  I'm nimble 'nuff may jus' be half a cat m'self," he chided good-naturedly.  Almost slipping, he righted himself and rambled on, "But damn if ol' Barnies' Reach don't get bigger an' messier all the time."

[Zhavi]

"Yer more th'size of a chocobo. Too big fer any cat I ever seen," Zhi said, before her brain could keep up with her tongue. Ahh, it was easy to remember to be Joz in front of Lalataru, but this man -- well, he was street, like her. For all that Zhi went around sucking up information on a regular basis, pretending to be someone she wasn't for long stretches of time wasn't something she was used to doing. It made her slow as she thought about it, about how likely it was for a street brat to be timid and survive. Authoritative figures, she decided, would get the timid treatment. She'd be a little more of herself around the roe.

 

Dangerous.

 

Yeah. Exactly.

 

It didn't take them many steps before they were abreast of the roofing of the upper tier of buildings of the Reach, and then only a few more before they were on the first street. The tiers were narrow, perched precariously, and typically only one row of buildings deep before cut stairs and ladders lead to the next level down. And where that wasn't enough, little clusters of wood-and-metal hovels had sprung up here and there. But that wasn't it -- the adventurous had cut into the cliffsides. Some of those holes were old, some of them newer: all of them were claimed. But not all of them were full. Even with the rain, people were out and about their business: making trinkets to sell, repairing one thing or another, begging -- some even ate under ragged canopies, peering out at Zhi and the roe as they passed. Children were as prevalent as they were anywhere else, the more energetic among them zipping back and forth, splashing in the runnels of slurry that would take the worst of the accumulated effluvia away.

 

Zhi navigated the Reach deftly, avoiding the streams of water that careened off rooftops and the worst of the muddy ground. Even with the Reach being built upon stone, it could not wholly avoid dirt. Dust and grit from the mainland was swept to Limsa Lominsa by the wind, and it accumulated over time.

 

Someone was playing on reed pipes, accompanied by drums and a high, fluting voice. The reed player was the best of the lot. Zhi smiled to hear it, ears turning in its direction. Perhaps it was because of the music that she spoke to the man she lead, rather than ignoring him the whole way. "What's yer name, then?"

[Goodfellow]

Her repartee elicited another great belly laugh from the roegadyn.  Clearly, the girl hadn't met many chocobos, least of all Minerva.  She was small (looked half a lalafell herself from where he was looking), yeah, but Taru hadn't mentioned she'd be funny.  The runt had been more than a little high-strung when he'd come calling, starting and stopping in that goofy, fluttery way he had.  Get these things at the market, he'd said.  Go to this street, go with the miqo'te girl, eyes open, remember the way, remember her words, remember her home.  

 

A weird job, especially from Taru, but Styrmsthal Tyrbsyn was a man who only had one question for his employers: Are you a pirate?  He didn't know the little man well, but he knew that much, he liked the knee-high, and gil was gil.  He'd burned through all he'd had getting home (and having some fun on the way), so this job came right on the bell.

 

"What's yer name, then?" he heard her ask.  Eyes open, Styrm.

 

"Call me Styrm, kitten."

[Zhavi]

"Kitten?" They'd reached the second set of steps, this one shorter in length than the last. "Ain't no kitten, y'great lump. Call me Joz."

[Goodfellow]

The left corner of Styrmsthal's mouth pulled up into a big lopsided grin.  "Don't look such a lump in the right light.  And when I ain't luggin' someone else's food about."  He hefted the sack high before remembering the rain and tucking it back under his chest, shielding it with the expanse of his shoulders.  He mumbled, "Lumpy, mebbe."

 

As they descended yet another set of stairs he asked, "How low do ye livin', Jozzie?  Can't be too much higher than Thal's house."

[Zhavi]

Zhi grinned. She couldn't help it. Here was the sort she'd take drinking and dicing with her, the sort that she liked to be around, even if she'd still never trust one at her back. Well, a few off comments here and there wouldn't kill her, would it? "Aye, right atop it." She reached the end of the steps and chanced a glance back at him. It was amusing. Her grin was cheeky as she looked up at him. "I'll be sure t'offer proper praise once we're out o'Azeyma's piss." She walked left. "Almost there, I swears it."

[Goodfellow]

She's got some bite, he thought at hearing her quip back.  She wasn't half the nervous little dormouse he'd been expecting.  Sure, lower sorts could clam up around folks like Taru, but Joz didn't seem the sort to bite her lip just cause someone wore a nicer robe than her.  Eyes open, Styrm.

 

He returned her smile, warm despite the rain.  Why, if she was a little older, had a little more meat on her...

 

"Better be.  The Wanderer hisself woulda stopped fer the night three stairs back."

[Zhavi]

"Think 'e'd make it this far down? Mebbe if he'd no choice, an' that's th'truth."

 

The buildings on the next level down rose several feet above the street level on their current level, and it was one of these that Zhi stopped next to. She turned to eye Styrm, and then rubbed her hands together as she stepped up alongside the building. "Stairs're out, an' th'ladder's rotted. Don't break me home, Styrmsie." Late to his own familiarity with her assumed name, but a retort nonetheless.

 

Then she was hopping, catching hold of the rough stone of the small, squat building and clambering up to its flat top. "We'll go in through th'window, off t'the side, here." She gestured behind her and to the side. He was likely tall enough to grip the upper edge of the building from the upper street and hoist himself up, but. . .she eyed his burden. "Toss it up, if y'can't manage wi' it." She pointed towards the package he held. "A little more wet won't hurt it none, an' it'll still be better'n rotted husks in th'midden."

 

It had been a long time since Zhi had needed to eat out of the middens, but she remembered well.

[Goodfellow]

He looked up after her, then around.  He examined the the make of the buildings.  He could jump up, easy, but he thought better of it.  Big as he was, he was no klutz and wasn't prone to falling through thin roofs.  He looked around the side of the building she'd indicated at the window.  "Hmm..."  He might just fit through if he sucked in real tight.  Not wanting to rough up the contents of the bag any more than necessary, he gently swung them up to Joz before stepping off the street into the space between the two buildings. 

 

He spread his arms and legs out wide and with a grunt managed to catch and support himself between the walls.  He hobbled forward with his palms and soles carefully.  The rain made it slick, but the stone was rough-hewn, so with a little sustained pressure he was able to make his way to the window, where he caught the sill with his right hand, brought his left over to meet it, sucked in, and hoisted himself up and wriggling through and inside. 

 

He stood up, brushed off his hands, and stuck his arms back out the window.

 

"Hop down, then.  And careful wi' the sack!"

[Zhavi]

"Huh," Zhi said, after he'd made it inside. She shrugged and leaned over, carefully handing down the bag. "A'right, back up," was her only warning before she crouched -- hands on the edge of the roof -- and hopped off backwards. She was facing the window as her body came down, and she twisted herself so her legs swung through the window. She let go, and wound up in a crouch on the inside of the little building, one hand shooting forward to keep herself from face-planting with the extra momentum.

 

There was a curtain strung across the room, and a sagging mess of rubble poking up out of a hole to the right of the window, butting up against the wall. The aforementioned stairs, or what had been stairs some time ago. There was one more window facing the direction of what would have been the ocean, but it was long since boarded up -- and with good reason: even with the gentle rain a few splatters had made their way inside through the open window, beyond the mess that Styrm and Zhi had tracked in. And given the rushing wind some storms brought with them. . .well. Shutters that could withstand that cost money. It was easier to board things up. Though, the matter might have been moot anyways; shallow tin pans collected dripping water. One of them was close to overflowing, and there was some dribbles that were left to splat against the floor on the side of the room opposite the blankets. Two small puddles had formed.

 

The interior was dim, though Zhi caught up a small oil lamp (a cheap little clay dish with a small loop to keep the wick from slipping back into the oil) and produced flint and tinder. She struck it up; it stank of cheap fish oil. Light flickered off the interior, showcasing the mean and meager possessions. A small pile of blankets that smelled of sweat and age, a worn crate with a few pieces of dried fish and spotty looking bread, and a stool with three different sized legs. The notebook and grease pencil lay atop the mussed blankets, flipped open to a blank page. That was it. If there was anything of greater value to be had on her side of the space, it was well hidden.

 

Zhi stuck the lamp on the stool and turned to Styrm, demeanor slipping into timidity. She pointed at the sack. "Errr. . . ." she pressed her lips together, expression hopeful.

[Goodfellow]

He had just stepped back as she'd asked when she came flying in through the window, landing only ilms before his feet.  "Huh," he shrugged.

 

Seeing her point at the sack, he furrowed his brow and set it on the ground, saying, "Hells, girl, it's yer food.  No need to layabout askin' permission or nothin'.  I thought ye weren't no kitten," he added with a smirk before turning around to take in the room around him.  Eyes open, Styrm.

 

He gestured to the curtain dividing the room.  "What, won't let a girl live by her lonesome way down here?"

[Zhavi]

Zhi immediately bared her teeth in a grimace, though the expression soon faded. She didn't know how she was supposed to act, but . . . surely it'd be more unusual if she didn't act like a streetrat? You'd be chewed up alive if anyone acted the way she'd acted in front of Lalataru. "I ain't," she muttered, taking a step forward and snatching up the bag. She backed a step and crouched, setting to opening it. She was hungry.

 

She looked over at the curtain at his words, and shrugged. "Ain't room t'live alone. Only reason it's by halves here is 'cause o'the stairs. Split four ways downstairs. Ye been t'the Reach before?" Zhi eyed the big man, curious despite herself. Not everyone who was street was destitute, it was true, but if he was . . .. She looked back down, suddenly nervous, and focused on the food.

[Goodfellow]

Styrmsthal continued turning about lazily, trying to disguise his observation with disinterest.

 

"I been a time or ten.  Good folk 'round here.  Salty as ye like 'em."  He chuckled and the low rumble of it filled up the room.  "So...ye're studying with Taru?"

[Zhavi]

Zhi rocked back onto her heels. She'd uncovered a clay jar packed with salted vegetables, and after cracking its wax seal found it to be cabbage and garlic. She dug into it with her fingers, eyes drifting half shut with the pleasure of it. "Some good," she amended for him around her mouthful. Her chewing stuttered to a halt as he brought up Lalataru, and she went stiff. "As long. . .fer as long as I don't piss 'im off. He scares me some, if I'm talkin' truth. Hey," she looked up, and then paused as she finished chewing, eyebrows drawing close together and forming a small wrinkle over her nose. "Ye work fer'im? Ye know what he's like?"

[Goodfellow]

"Aye, I do work fer the man time to time.  Nothin' permanent or the like, see, but yeah, we've done our business here and there.  Pays fair."  Styrmsthal looked pensive.  He continued, "He's a good sort, an' I wouldn't worry too hard 'bout pissin' 'im off; he's a hard man to upset, he is."  He noticed her wrinkled brow.  Worried?  Suspicious?  Of Taru?

 

He sat down on the floor across from the girl and leaned back on his elbows.  "Hells of a drinker, too, that one.  Drank me under the table right there with 'im a time or two.  Dunno where he puts it all..."

[Zhavi]

As Styrm started talking, Zhi looked between him and the food before begrudgingly pushing a loaf of dark, dense bread towards him. Sharing didn't come easily to those who suffered the pangs of near-starvation on a regular basis, but neither did talk come cheap. Zhi watched for his reaction. That was put to the side as she paused mid-bite, fingers crammed into her mouth. "Wot?" Mouth full, bits of cabbage sticking out, she stared at Styrm in open disbelief. "'E wot? Yeh -- nuhh."

 

Zhi shook her head back and forth, denying his claim that a tiny lalafell had drunk a roegadyn -- a large roegadyn -- under the table. Oh, she knew well enough not to underestimate one of the small folk, had had that lesson rubbed in thrice for every doubt she'd ever held, but that? She chewed, swallowed, flecks of cabbage falling to land in her lap. Cleanliness wasn't something that seemed to bother her overmuch. "Nuh-uh, yer yankin' me tail."

 

She watched him with the closeness of someone expecting a story; her eyes dared him to prove her denial wrong.

[Goodfellow]

"I ain't so.  Night I met him, matter o' fact."  He waved away the bread.  Taru paid fair, as he said, and the girl had more need of it than he, scrawny thing that she was. 

 

"Was in Ul'dah, in the Quicksand.  Eh..." he scratched his head, "can't recall how we got started, but this 'un right 'ere?"  He indicated a short but deep scar on his jaw that peeked over the edge of his beard, "Got 'er fallin' face first on a pile o' mugs.  Shattered 'em all.  Drunk as he was, and he was just 'bout drunk as me, he tried workin' some magic on me bleedin' face," he explained.  He fingered the little scar and said, "Not such bad work for castin' blind.  Next evenin' when we finally dragged our arses outta bed, he had a job fer me and we been workin' 'em time to time e'er since."

 

He looked across at her.  Sitting there on her haunches, munching and listening to stories she really did look just a kid.  He watched her as though expecting further disbelieving protestations.

[Zhavi]

Zhi tucked her chin and snickered to herself, some inner thought lightening her mien. She didn't share it with him, though her lips turned up in a small, secretive smirk. She reached out and took up the loaf of bread, breaking off a hunk. More crumbs scattered. There was cautious consideration in her as she took a bite, chewed with her mouth open, and let her eyes roam over him and the room at once. "What sorts o'jobs ye work for'im?"

[Goodfellow]

Styrm squinted his eyes slightly and replied, "Ye're like him, y'know.  He asks lots o' question too."  And before she could retort, "I do 'im odd jobs.  Watch his cargo, watch his people.  Keep 'em safe an' the like.  The occasional market run an' heavy sack delivery." 

 

A great big grin broke his lips and he leaned forward and asked, "An' what's got ye so suddenly interested in me deeps an' darks, eh?"

[Zhavi]

Zhi had, indeed, opened her mouth to retort to Styrm's comments, but he stymied her. Annoyance set into her expression instead, and she lifted her chin at him in obstinate mulishness. But she let the comment go, brought up instead (again) by the sidetrack he suddenly took with the conversation.

 

"Ye got summat worth hidin' away from me int'rest?" Her tone went cool and coy, the smile deepening between bites.

[Goodfellow]

Was she trying to draw him out?  What in the hells did she think he knew.  He had nothing but respect for Taru, but he was a little nonplussed at being stuck between two schemers.

 

"Me?  Ha!  I'm an open book, Jozzie."  He contorted his face into a parody of innocence and spread his long arms wide for emphasis.  "With pictures," he added with a wink.