Worlds on Fire (closed)

[Zhavi]

Shhh, let it happen.

 

((continued from in game rp because timezones suck))

"They was fished up some few bells ago. On a pinnace, they is. It's made o' wood."

 

Despite the rough handling Zhi'd endured but a minute previous, her manic smile was still in place. She'd lost none of her cockiness, none of the wicked intensity with which she watched him. Like as not she'd have a good sized knot on the back of her head the following morning, not that anyone would be able to tell from looking at her.

 

She watched him as he flitted through the shabby stalls, shadowed by the gloom. There weren't enough lamps in the Cleft. Never was. She was light on her feet as she followed him: a pixy vibrating with energy -- albeit one that stank of old booze and freshly rolled smokes.

 

"Care ye don't step on yer own stones, sweetin'."

[Jager]

He paid her very little attention as he made his first purchase. A large bottle of unmarked alcohol. The fact he didn't even bother to taste or sniff it might have been a clue to just what it was going to be used for. What came next surly made no sense: a decent length of rope, several sheets of blank parchment, a tarnished spyglass, two lanterns and some black gunpowder. All were tossed carelessly into a large burlap sack, compliments of his average purchase, and with that he was on his way.

 

"It have any fire of its own, or is it flying naked as well?" He was vague should anyone be listening in. Even if those in the alcove were just as shady, information was information, everyone saw something for the right price. And given just how tangled this woman's body-dump was, he'd take no chances. "Lastly, can you find me a perch high above this boat?" He was stepping once more out into the sun, shielding his eyes.

[Zhavi]

Zhi was drifting. Eyes unfocused, she gradually narrowed in on Jager when he spoke to her, shifting from foot to foot as if she intended to dash off at any second. "Fire? Nah, but ye can bet there'll be spellcasters on hand." The offhanded warning from earlier had made its return: her opinion on his methods both clear and free of spite. His irritation was but a lark to her, and she took no pains to hide it.

 

"Ye need a perch, I'll find ye a perch." Not a yes, not a no. Zhavi Streetrunner: vague reassurances at their best.

[Jager]

Jager pinched the bridge of his nose. "And what about fire -power-? Cannons, harpoons, gunnery- anything?" If it were just a barge, it it was doubtful; however it was armed with mages.. so, it opened that gate to question. He'd shoulder his burlap sack of goods and reached inside for a single sheet of parchment. The quill he'd purchased was stuck in his hair, but not for long. Squatting on the ground, he'd wet its tip and find a wall solid enough to start scribbling notes. 

 

"You don't have much faith, do ya?" He'd smirk as he shook his head. No no no, this was all wrong. Jager crumples the parchment into a useless ball and holds it in his palm as he moves once more. It was his turn now, to lead them and he'd do so by taking them toward the docks. Somewhere along the way, his patience had slipped and his irritation with Zhavi's cockiness had gotten the better of him. A lowly street begger had come to him for nothing more than a single coin, to which he replied with a handful of balled paper thrown right at the poor lad's face. "Don't spend it all in once place." He makes eye contact with the rat, sneering before moving along. 

 

"Find me that perch. I want to see what I'm working with."

[Zhavi]

"Would ye like t'scout it, sweetin'?" Innocent had made a return. She wore it poorly, as usual. "O'course I have faith in ye, why wouldn't I? Yer jes so good wi'the city."

 

She brushed past him, the energy burning within her giving her reason to take a bridge too quickly. She almost ran into someone's retainer, hopped up onto the railing, then the post, and then she was scaling the side of a building up. She peered down from the edge of its roof, her grin a terrifying sight for anyone who'd ever dealt with mischievous five-year-olds before. With a flick of her crooked tail, she was out of sight. Jager would either catch up and make it to the perch he'd so nicely requested, or he wouldn't.

 

What did she care?

 

She was flying.

[Jager]

Anything you can climb, I can climb better~

No you can't.

Yes I can! . . . Something like that.

 

Jager was hot on her tail. Any hotter and he'd catch a nasty whiff of the thing. It was bad enough he could almost taste he rotten scent.. it was almost sour; that of someone who hasn't bathed in days. Close to what he was about to start smelling like. From rail to post, post to wall, he was crouched low and nestled in her small spot above the road, scanning about for their intended target. 

 

It wasn't long before the barge was in sight and the two were finally given a minute to rest and relax. He'd crouch along the precipice looking down with the sack at his side. "Perfect. We don't need to do anything for now. I see all that I need. We wait." He'd go about unloading the contents of the bag, reaching first for the spyglass. He'd peer through it once, give the harbor a quick scan then snicker. "They didn't have glass; I had to improvise." He says this as he begins to take it apart, pocketing both lenses. 

 

"It'll be there by night fall, yes?"

[Zhavi]

"Mebbe. Probably." Her voice was sing-song. She was curled up under the scant shade offered by an outcropping of rock above them. Typical Keeper, ready to curse Azeyma at the drop of a hat. Stupid sun, anyways.

 

"Why?" She dragged out the word, eyes flickering over to him with lazy interest.

[Jager]

"Too bright." He'd set the broken spyglass, or what was left of it to the side before reaching for the bottle. He'd rip the cork out with his teeth and take a mighty swig shortly after. The the lanterns were set up in front of him, each was tied by the handle and left alone. "For now, we wait. Thirsty?" This was as much of a white flag as he was going to wave with her. An offer to sample his mediocre whiskey and a few hours to sit. 

 

"Just how bright does that mage fire get, anyways?"

[Zhavi]

"Can't say I've used it afore," she said through her teeth as she grinned at him. She might as well have been a painted dummy for all the lack of nuances in that expression of hers. "But I heard it burns blue."

 

Rather than answer the prior question, she held out her hand with an imperial flourish. She was still jittery, still fidgeting, still burning up with energy.

[Jager]

And all that energy would go to waste. That was, unless she did something to entertain herself for the next couple of hours. He was silent, and any question or comment she bothered to offer was answered with a shrug, or one-word answer at best. From time to time, he found amusement in playing with the lenses, angling the sunlight through them to make a thin beam in which he could direct. Like cat with a laser, he'd run his pointer over the ship again and again as if he were seconds from making sound effects to go with his little game. 

 

But eventually the skies turned orange as the sun began to set. Here he'd sit up and take the lenses he'd been holding on to, only to break the largest of the two into three pieces. He was aiming for two, but glass had a fickle way of cracking the way it wanted- much like his employer sitting just off to his side. "You ready? Or am I flying this one solo?" He wore the cockiest of grins when he spoke to her, but never once did he bother to make eye contact. Eye contact was a show of respect, given to those who had earned it. He'd sooner stare at a pile of fresh chocobo shit, than hold her gaze in his own. 

 

He primes the two lanterns and makes sure the rope is tied securely around each handle. 

 

"About half an hour. Need it to be dark."

[Zhavi]

Entertainment came in all shapes and sizes. But her comments and snarky little quips were met without resistance, and resistance was the name of the game. And that was an awful waste, because there were so many other things she could be doing, ideas running through her head that only had very little to do with the things she really should be doing. But, then, what were jobs to her right then? As pesky as the sun, they were.

 

Speaking of which, by the time it'd started to settle down, so had Zhi. Little by little, the exhaustion crept back over her, taking away the hyperactivity and dulling her into some semblance of normalcy. Normalcy that, for at least several hours more, would be punctuated by brief clips of manic energy. Oh well. Nothing was perfect.

 

"Ohhh? Ye can't do't on yer own, then? Paint me topsail t'deck." Hours of boredom had drained her ability to even put up a token effort at sounding anything more than sarcastic. Yet, it also primed her to be cooperative. Mostly. "What'll ye need me t'do?"

[Jager]

That grin of his never faltered, even in the face of mocking sarcasm. He'd hand her one of the ropes by the neck, just shy of the lantern's handle. "It's not your typical oil inside, for both our sake, try not to drop it?" He'd treat her like a child if she wanted to act like one. Even if she weren't, he'd probably still talk to her all the same. To earn respect from the other here would take a miracle, a cask of ale, three prostitutes (one dead), and a pile of gold to sleep on; not necessarily in that order.

 

With the skies black and the stars shining bright, he could finally set this plan into motion. It was going to cost him his hand, but he'd lay it on the table if it meant getting one step closer to his goal. Her lantern was lit, he'd forcibly grab her by the shoulders and position her to stand near the rocks edge so it could dangle over the side. "It's simple.. swing it from side to side. It's going to be a long fall." 

 

Like the cheshire cat, his grin was tugging from ear to ear as he moved. He was lighting his lantern next, ready to join at her left. "Thirty seconds. Count."

[Zhavi]

Zhi took the rope, ignored the jibe, and stumbled into place at the edge of the rocks. "Uhhhh. . ." adrenaline was starting to pump through her system. She looked down, at the lantern, at Loque. "What're we doin', then?" My, my, was that a hint of uncertainty in her voice?

[Jager]

He not only heard, but felt the caution in her tone. He felt it in the way she stiffened up at the edge, holding the lantern as she did. He took pride in this. "Don't move- wait for my command. It's easy enough, but if we mistime this, we're royally f- Why aren't you counting? Twenty two, twenty one, twenty, nineteen.. Count!" 

 

He'd start to limber up while counting along in his head, standing just off to her left. He held the lantern in front of him firmly, eyes closed. He was preparing for what came next. That stupid grin had been wiped off his face and a look of intense focus was shown now. "Eleven.. ten.. nine.. eight.." He'd count along with her for the remaining seconds before he executed his part in this game.

[Zhavi]

Son of a -- he was enjoying this, the churl. And there she was, flatfooted, waiting for him to make his move because he wouldn't rutting tell her what was going on.

 

She started to panic. Not a lot, but enough. "Loque -- " she said, right before he hit 'one'.

[Jager]

"Three.. Two.." Loque.. "One.. Now!" He let the length of rope slide through his fingers so that his lantern hung off the edge of the cliff. Only now he'd swing his back and forth just like hers, matching in speed and most of all, keeping them from bumping into each other. They swung together, side by side like a pair of fireflies off in the distance. "Perfect- hold it just like that." His grin was back, he was fighting back laughter.

 

Back. 

 

Forth. 

 

Back. 

 

Forth. 

 

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BA-BOOM! B-B-B-BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! B-BOOM!

 

 

All that could be seen in the distance was a row of explosive fire, materializing out of thin air; obviously they were cannons, but from a ship unseen in the harbor. Like a ghost ship, wherever it was- if even it was, unloaded a volley of shots. The sounds of the city ceased, the air went still. Time stood still, it almost felt. At least.. until that volley hit. 

 

"Drop the lantern." He'd let his go first so that the rope could run through his fingers and grow to the size of a spec before hitting the water with a hissing splash. Seconds before she dropped hers, he'd flash the most dangerous of smiles, it was lit up by her light in the most eerie of manners. The sounds of wood splintering was heard, screams for help, and most of all, the crackling of flames. Orange flames. Pure. Not blue. 

The harbor was alive with activity now, from people running away, to people rushing to douse the flames- an impossible task at this point. The ship that had fired was no where in sight, no- not in the dark of this night. The naval fleet surrounding this island wouldn't haven't the faintest trail or clue as to who fired upon this barge on this night. Fortune's dagger was quick. Like a blade, it cut deep and vanished without a trace.

 

He'd revel in his work for a few more seconds before standing with his arms crossed. "Kink, I think it's about time we discuss business."

[Zhavi]

Picture this:

 

Arrogant, cocky little chit, playing at having stones larger than the world.

 

That would be Zhi.

 

A companion, standing alongside, with enough stubbornness and attitude to match her own.

 

That would be Jager.

 

One laughing, the other with ears back, tail tucked -- tucked -- and mouth open wide enough to catch a dodo. One got the trophy for biggest stones. The other, well. . .

 

Zhi had just lost the contest.

 

There are no words for the reluctance with which Zhi turned to face Loque. She couldn't even fake one of her brassy grins, that was how much he'd taken out of her sails. He knew it, she knew it, he knew she knew it -- so on and so forth. Point being, her paranoia had just gotten its fair share of "I tole ye so!" and then some. She closed her eyes in a long blink. Pride was damn hard to swallow. Really damn hard. She was choking on it, a little bit.

 

"A'right. Well. I ain't hirin' ye." Her voice was just a titch on the strangled side. "Partners?"

[Jager]

It was simple, really. The notes he'd scribble were plans, times and instructions. Instructions given to the street beggar with a code spoken. Don't spend it all in once place he said as the young lad ran off to his ship. 

He chuckles, his own tail swishing casually behind him. His ship, Fortune's Dagger, which he watched get ready from behind the spyglass high atop his perch. A perch which he used the glass from the spyglass to mark the ship. The ship to be sunk by canon fire at the sight of two swinging lanterns. Simple indeed. He chuckled, tail swishing back and forth behind him merrily.

 

Back. 

 

Forth. 

 

Back.

 

Forth.

 

"Not quite yet. C'mon, let's head back to my room while the streets are empty. I'll even buy you another bottle." Broken glass, spyglass tubing, rope and sack were all tossed down into the water below, the contents put inside so it would sink faster. The ocean could provide and deliver so much: trade goods, food, people and even in some cases, help. Here on this side of the world, it was turning into a bottomless void in which he could dump evidence, bodies and even secrets.

[Zhavi]

Once, that string of words would have earned him innuendo. Now, well, Zhi was still trying to get the rest of her pride down her godsdamned throat. She grunted at him. Energy? Had there been such a thing? The whole way to the inn he was staying at, she was dragging her feet. Who had the upper hand? Not her.

 

Worst. Day. Ever.

[Jager]

Navigating the streets was easier than he thought. In fact, too easy. Both had to be careful to show concern and look panicked when both citizens and Yellow Jacket's were running past them. "A ship is on fire!" He'd shout and cry as they passed him by, no one cared to question but simple aimed to confirm. That they could by themselves, one just had to look to the skies and see the orange glow. 

 

Once inside the inn, he'd swing by the bar and purchase two bottles of something not-so-cheap for once, and headed for his room. He'd jerk his head in the direction of the stairs so she could follow. For someone with the upper hand, he didn't seem too intent on rubbing it on her face, not yet at least. His concern was with getting inside, safe and secure, and most of all, his pay; answers. "Lock it behind you, coast should be more than clear." He'd snicker as he looked out the window facing the docks. "It's about to go under.."

[Zhavi]

He was doing it on purpose. He was enjoying it. They could have taken the back routes, avoided running into anyone. But noooo.

 

She barred the door and stood there, arms folded, expression ugly. It was almost as if she was awaiting a blow. Her normal inquisitiveness was gone; but for a quick look 'round the room, her sole focus was the stubborn git in front of her, with his alcohol (ever-so-generously purchased). Smugness? It was there. She knew how to look for it.

 

But what was rutting worse -- the worst, actually -- was that she knew he deserved that smugness. He'd outstripped her. She'd brought a knife, and he'd brought sodding cannons. Cannons! Of all the blary things, cannons. So, yeah, she showed him how galled she was. She showed him her ugliest expression.

 

Jealousy.

[Jager]

Jager knew what he had. Moves. He didn't need to see a barge on fire, or the life bleed from a guard in a yellow suit of armor. He didn't need the approval of others and most of all, he didn't need to prove anything to this street runner. But he did. He didn't just bring his cannon's to a knife fight, he shot them. If ever there was a warning shot sent to the skies, this was it. So when he turned to face her and that ugly expression, he'd simply shrug. He had no reason to drag it out or rub it in her face. 

 

But what came next would surly take her by surprise. "Good job back there, the hiding spot, the perch, made things easier." Sip. Compliment. Continue. "I'm not here for fame, fortune or even power. You saw firsthand just how much I already possess. What I need is information, and you have it." He paused to make his way towards the table so he could take a seat. She was welcome to help herself to the other. 

 

"You know this city, you know its streets. You know its every nook and cranny, and most of all you know its employers." Sip. "You said back there on top that rock, partners?" Sip. Stare. "You scratch my ear and well, I can scratch yours; I can get behind this if you're interested." He'd wait to see what she had to say before any hand was held out to be shook.

[Zhavi]

There went the ol' paranoia alarm again.

 

Zhi's eyes narrowed as he spoke. She didn't like the compliments. Base manipulation.

 

She sat, because standing would look silly after a minute or two, and by then taking a seat would look even worse. She traded in the jealousy for boredom as her thoughts went for a spin into the territory of why this and why that, all the while she stared at him. For once in her life, she was struck silent, without any clever retorts, without any goading. The sass had been burned from her along with the four bodies and the secrets they'd held. She didn't owe him, not precisely, but. . .

 

She uncorked her bottle, and gulped. One, two. Breathe. Three, four. Breathe.

 

"Partners." The word was spat out on a breath that was almost entirely alcohol fumes. It was also raspy: thank you, booze.

 

It was a gamble. But, on the tail end of the smokes, and fueled once more on alcohol and the queasy airiness that came on the tail end of not enough sleep and too much stimulant, she didn't care. He'd rutting played her one solid, and if there was any type of person she wanted at her side (not at her back, never there. That was what walls were for. Walls were usually trustworthy), it was someone who could outplay her. At least, until it came time to get to stabbing backs. But Zhi was relatively certain she'd be faster on the draw than him. Maybe. Probably? Bah.

 

She smiled.

 

Somehow, it was worse than the jealousy.

[Jager]

Partners. That's all he needed to hear in order to raise himself a toast. He'd tip his bottle back and let its savory contents fill his gullet. Tonight was a night worth drinking to. "So, have I earned the privilege of learning your name? Your real name." He'd hold the bottle around the neck by three fingers before rocking back in his chair. "What do you say, a trade?"

[Zhavi]

The bottle was upended once more, her gulps loud in the otherwise quiet room. "Zhi's good enough," she said. Yeah, why not. It wasn't as if he'd just -- cannons. Rutting. Cannons. "Yers?"

 

She looked away, the smile dropping away again. She was left with apathy. Aie, gods, what was Nald'thal even doing to her any more?