Tin Foil Hats

[Jager]

The sun was burning hot and the citizens of Limsa were hustling about. High noon was about when all the market's hit their rush of people, most trading and selling for whatever they couldn't quite buy. Being a sea-side city, the stalls were rich with product from all over the sea. Hungover and fighting off nausea, he sat along a stone edge facing the docks while he waited for her to show. Given the circumstances of last night's little discovery, he needed to find out just who was snooping around his room and above all else, if it was and/or tied to Zhavi. He even went so far as to shed a little coin ona new outfit: a baggy kurta, some initiate's slops and the most disgusting of straw hats, just low enough to cover his face. Facial hair and braids were still a dead give away.

 

Hope fully,any minute she'd come slinking through the market place, maybe in search of a bite to eat, or perhaps a purse to snatch. Hell, maybe he'd catch her on the trail of someone important- which in turn, was now important to him. His tail swishes back and forth while he casually browses for people while pretending to browse wares from under his hat. 

[Zhavi]

Miserable, miserable day. Azeyma* was taking the piss out of Zhi, as usual, by shining ever-so-brightly when she was forced to do business in the daytime. Which, let's face it, was fairly frequently. Most of her work was dealing with daytrippers, recently, and she'd given up letting others handle certain task.

 

Which meant she had to go out into the broiling sun. It hurt her eyes.

 

So, Zhi did go slinking through the markets, but not for any particular reason except to get out of the blimming sun. She was tired. Thirsty. Maybe hungover (hard to tell some days when she started drinking as soon as she woke up). Thirsty. Okay, she figured out a reason to be in three as soon as she hit the shade, and that was buying a drink.

 

Always sad to spend money on something not alcoholic.

 

She was tired. It was becoming a problem. She'd been up rustling her contacts, and that meant even less sleep than usual. She missed Jager's smell as she passed him (was probably missing a lot, if we're being truthful) and wound up at a dingy stall that was selling some-or-other fruit juice. Alcohol not in reach? Sweet was the next best thing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*(( I still like Ayzema better. >: D))

[Jager]

He about slammed shoulders with her, with how she came bumbling past each stall. The mi'quote's heart raced while he slipped around a stall and immediately stuffed his hand into a basket of apples. The fruit seller gave him a funny look, but thought nothing of it. She was just as careless as him, this hangover was going to blow everything. He'd not stray from his original intent, not by a long shot. Tailing her was as vital as it was finding his intruder for the break in back at the inn. The way she moved, the sluggish tilt in her gait, everything about her bodies language suggest she was oblivious to his presence. Those dark yellow eyes of his followed her every step, all the way up to the stall she ordered from. Juice? The hell.. was this the right woman? He had to look for the kink in her tail to be sure. He leans his back up against a wall and presses the flat of his food to it. 

[Zhavi]

"Twenty-five gil fer this?" Zhi handed the gil over while the merchant grinned back at her. When he opened his mouth to offer some patter-or-other about how wonderful his product was, she waved him off and slammed it back.

 

She was sure the headache would arrive at any moment.

 

Once she'd loitered about under the awnings for a bit longer (the shade was glorious, even if humidity denied her comfort), she braved the sun once more. She headed for the docks, taking the ramp from the Alley down to the pier.

 

Chirp was who she needed to see. Damn woman seemed to be incapable of selling off her trash anywhere that didn't include blazing, blinding sun.

[Jager]

This had to be the most boring person in the world to follow. She didn't have a destination, she pissed away both time and coin for.. fruit juice, and she was oblivious to the stalker that was he. And this was his business partner. Hereally ought to reconsider, seeing as how he was only on this case because of her. Well, possibly because of her; that was what he aimed to find out. Unfortunately, his tracks were crossed and laid short when he decided to swing along side the alley she had stepped into. Having spent too much time here in this part of town, where the shady and crooked lived, his face- that which was hidden, was known by some. In fact..

 

“Aye Loque, that you?” A pot bellied roegedyn by the name of Alrik was wiping down some steel from a stall trying to pitch second hand weaponry. “The hell ya been? Heh heh heh, what's wit'the get up?” He stood deathly still, his tail went stiff and his eyes slid from the woman he was trailing to the idiot blowing his cover. “Got that list o' dye you wanted, not sure what good it'll do, you know they've got their fing- Aye, you listenin- Hey!” Before Zhavi could even have a chance to look around, for a name she knew in secret, he had flipped a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn and headed right back through the market. “Loque! The 'ell is his problem?” With a fat-shouldered shrug, the merchant would return to his stall, all while scratching his head.

 

 

“Shit-Shit shit shit. SHIT.” Razor sharp whispers escaped from under the straw hate while his lips pulled thin in a wicked scowl. The ruttin' idiot, IDIOT! His pace was fast, his head kept low. He'd have actually had a chance, maybe, if he didn't managed to bump shoulders with more than one person. He was easy to tail right back.

[Zhavi]

Hello.

 

Zhi didn't really need to look. She had her ears. They were working better than her nose at the moment (smokes were so wonderful, and yet so deadening). Alrik was pinpointed. Zhi turned around. She saw what direction he was looking in. She moved in that direction, tucking her hands into her most favoritest ratty belt.

 

She opened her mouth, inhaling air with a small chuff of noise. Maybe she had been just a little bit too eager on the whole smoking rolled up or stuffed in versions of taking the edge off, lately. At least she could say she was enjoying herself. No, really. She was.

 

His scent was not immediately apparent, which was something she'd expected. Markets were full of smells, from sweaty body odor to numerous goods. Waste. Other things. And she wasn't exactly in peak form. This was why she typically had Brindle doing the gathering. She grimaced. And hadn't she just gotten fat and lazy?

 

She kept moving, kept scenting. She'd catch a whiff or see him soon enough, and then they'd see who got to play mouse.

[Jager]

His only goal now was to get the ruttin' hell out of the market without being caught. He'd gotten sloppy, too much drinking and not enough action on the field. That's what business partners did; they had a way of influencing one's person and crew. He wasn't hard to spot. Just look for the suspicious mi'qutoe with his hands in his pockets and his head ducked now. Like it did him any good, one of his braids had fallen loose and was bouncing back and forth. It was like a second tail, one screaming for the attention Z sought. His scent, yeah- that was strong. And if that wasn't enough to flat out paint a target over his head, the baggy clothes were. If she put even the slightest bit of effort in, she'd corner him soon enough; he still didn't know this city as well as she did. Probably never would.

 

 

Befor long he was slipping out of the market place and down some adjacent alley ways. The murmur of people started to hum away and the crashing sound of the ocean below started to take over. He'd have to meet up with an old contact- the one that had delivered Jager's letter to his crew with orders to fire upon the vessel containing the four bodies. He glances back and leans into the alley, he waits. Silence, footsteps- neither in his direction. This was good, he'd lost her. Only then did he break into a sprint down the last stretch of windy cobble stone road. This contact often hung out around a little stone nook overlooking the fisherman's wharf. 

[Zhavi]

Sight won. She still couldn't smell him, what was that about? "Cut down on th'smokes," she muttered to herself, increasing her pace enough to keep him in sight. Would he turn around? Probably not, but if he did she'd have a jaunty little wave ready for him. Except he chose to go down a certain alley.

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

Really. They'd decided to work together because their needs suited: he didn't know the city, she didn't have the right pull. And he thought to lose her? Please.

 

She hopped onto a pile of crates, and started climbing. There was the headache, right on time. She was breathing heavier than usual as she crested the top, the layout of the city with all its bridges and spires spreading out before her.

 

For the second time in a few days, she jumped and landed on someone running. Only this time, she didn't bother trying to stop him from going anywhere. For one, she just wanted to prove a point. Two, her head really fucking hurt. Ow.

 

She came up on her feet in front of him, wincing and holding her head. "I know ye like me ass, mate, but that ain't no call fer actin' creepy."

[Jager]

He'd almost made it, too. The man came to a grinding halt, quite literally on his face. There were a few people sitting just around the corner, chatting amongst themselves when the pair of mi'quote's came crashing to the ground. So when the noise started, the two on the ground could hear them getting up to come see what in the hell was going on. The first to step around was the informant he'd been hoping to see; the one that could possibly help him with his clumsy exposure. The other.. well, shit was about to get real.

 

“Jager! What- What are you doing here?” He'd started to peel the straw hat off when Zhavi started talking, but found some level of refuge underneath it right now. He was as good as done, anyways; cling to what hope you have, dear boy.

 

 

Jager shifted his weight from one leg to the other and casually crossed his arms. First confused- now grinning, all the captain could do was shake his head. “You've got to be -Fucking- kidding me." The informant, whose name was just that, The Informant, made a hissing sound as he casually slid right back around the corner. Busted. Jager in the meantime took one look at Zhavi and just buried his face in his palm. "He's dead. He's ruttin' dead. I have to kill him now. She found out. Of all the mistakes, he's dead. Why. Why do you do this to me? Why?" He was clearly talking to himself.. or, at least that's what it looked like. Livid, the captain simply hopped forward once and drove the pointed tip of his boot into the jaw of the poor lad sprawled out on the ground. Only then was he relieved of his straw hat, and that's when Zhavi would see the dark yellowed eyed pup with eyes glossed over.

 

 

"Fuck!" -Jager.

[Zhavi]

Zhi took a few steps to the side, hand to head, eyebrows screwed down over the bridge of her nose. There was a line there. He was going to give her wrinkles. Headaches were a bygone conclusion.

 

She didn't move. She stood. She watched. She looked from the man on the ground, to the man standing.

 

"I ain't drunk enough." She said. Very matter of factly.

 

Her hand was reeeeeally close to where her dagger was hidden, though.

[Jager]

"One little task. Just one ruttin' little task, and you not only screw it up, you bring more trouble than yer wroth!" Jager paced back and forth, quickly so. Pace, pace, kick, pace stomp pa-stomp stomp stomp stomp, crunch, stomp squelch, squish-squish-squish... heavy breathing. His boot was dripping with blood and all around the kid's head a pool of it. Now, he wasn't exactly a kid, but he was young enough to have not deserved this. Your mother told you, roll with the wrong crowd and you'd end up like this. 

 

"You and I need to talk." He'd press his back up against the corner before crossing his arms. He wore a loaded barrel today, this one strapped diagonally across his chest. His features were hard, his eyes locked solid on her. The yellow in them seemed to be as dark as piss could be, suffice to say, he was feelin' it.

[Zhavi]

"Funny," Zhi edged away from the spreading pool of blood, "I was thinkin' maybe ye'd somethin' t'tell me."

 

But this time, she wasn't giving him any easy outs. She studied the kid on the ground, upper lip curling in some kind of disgust. Though what exactly that disgust was for. . .

 

She shrugged. Waited.

[Jager]

"The second I take your work onto my ship, shit starts goin' missing! One o' my crew goes missin', and no one talks. Then to sum it all up, I've got me a little noser in my ruttin' room!" He shakes his head and leans around the corner to lash out at the informant. "Hey, call it off, this one's no good." He glances back at Z, rolls his eyes and sighs, "And clean this mess up. For the love of- does this town have anyone capable of anything?" 

 

This time he pushes off the wall and takes a step towards Zhavi. "I've got a rat in my ship; wasn't there till you stepped on it. It's nothin' personal, I'm jes coverin' my ass. Even if that means havin' to watch yours." He snickers. But he is not amused.

[Zhavi]

Zhi lifted her chin, eyes rising until she was looking him in the face. She propped up a grin. "Been awhile since ye were runnin', ain't it? Cuz yer right shit at it. Don't pretend otherwise."

 

She started back the way she came. "Free advice? This part o'town, an extra body won't stir up much. But movin' it? That'll be somethin' worth seein'. Move off it. Afore th'gawkers show."

[Jager]

"My only mistake was bringin' on a fresh scrag like yerself. We can take care o' that right here." The click from his single shot pistol could be heard. He stood with his braids swaying in the wind. As stated before, this little spot in particular was over looking a piece of open water. They could dump it, but it would be found pretty easy. Give them more than enough time to vanish, only thing is, the kid wasn't a part of his original crew but that of a Limsa citizen. Someone was bound to know him, bound to ask questions, and most of all, bound to track it back to him. 

 

"I said you and I need to talk."

[Zhavi]

Zhi stopped. She turned around, putting her hands up behind her head. Her turn to giggle, to sneer at him like he was stupid. But there was an acrid stench in the smell of her sweat. It wasn't as if she wanted to die, was okay with the idea. But laughing was always better than showing fear. Always.

 

"Ye kill me, won't solve yer problem. Yer bein' flat cockered, churl, an' that ain't me fault."

 

She wasn't looking at the barrel. That was hard. She was looking at him, pretending it didn't exist. Pretending she wasn't a half second away from death.

 

"Ye kill me, an' yer off worse."

 

The kid was too young and too desperate for money to have any connections that mattered. He was like Zhi. Someone killed him? There'd be precious few people asking questions. Fewer still who wanted to do anything about it.

[Jager]

Jager knew that laugh, and damn did he know it well. Too many times had he laughed like that in the face of Rourk, a man who had held more than just guns in front of his face like this. She was twisted in the head, that was for sure; he actually questioned the validity of her laughter. Points to you Zhav, for that one. Still, he didn't lower the barrel, but he did lower his voice. "I can just as easily sail on out of here. Dust my hands and cut all ties I have with Limsa." Which was to say, so very little at this moment. "Go 'head, show me how big them stones are, Z. I'll show you just how loud this thing is." 

 

If she didn't say anything, he'd just lower it. If she did- and god damn it if it were a snark-ass reply, he'd laugh.. but then he'd lower it, too. It was hard to gauge him like this.

[Zhavi]

"If ye could turn 'round an' sail out o' here, ye wouldn't put up wi' me in th'first place."

 

She lowered her hands, grinning like a fool.

 

"Ye ain't gotten what ye want, yet. Losses look bad, mate. Real bad."

 

It was, of course, much easier to breathe when a weapon wasn't being pointed at you. Easier to be cocky, too.

 

"I ain't got time t'be messin' wi' yer shit, Jager. I ain't got no use fer yerself besides usin' yer connections, an' last time I checked I'd already got ye in me pocket."

 

A flicker of self-awareness, there. Soon gone.

[Jager]

"And sometimes losses can keep a ship afloat. Keep the gangrene and die, or lop off the limb, take your losses and live to sail another day." He'd shrug before tucking the pistol back. Killing her honestly wouldn't do a damned thing for him. He'd neither gain nor take a loss from it. He could play the role of any generic patsy and crawl around under the finger's of anyone he wished to know more of; starting at the bottom was his only drag. If anything, he'd get half the shit she gave him on a regular basis. Things to consider. 

 

"If you're not willin' to help me clear this'n up with yerself, then consider our business here done. Until I can find the rat, you're as good a suspect as any other." He'd shrug before turning away to slip back around the corner. Neither he or The Informant would come back around.

[Zhavi]

The laugh, this time, was genuine. She caught her breath. "Yer th'one pissin' fire at me, talkin' 'bout how I'm th'scrag what's diggin' on ye. Whether'r not I'll help ye ain't th'question. How much d'ye trust me, hey?"

 

She tipped her head at him. "Meantime, standin' 'round here bein' pissy wi' me is wastin' time. Do what ye want wi' the body, but I ain't gonna hang out gawpin' 'till some scrag comes wanderin' by."

[Jager]

He didn't reply right away. He'd sent the informant off a few minutes ago. As to which way he went, seeing as how this was a dead end, was beyond anyone but Jager. It didn't take him long to learn the city, especially in a way that Z had shown him. "You're still talkin', aren't yeh? That answer your question?" He'd snicker, glued to his spot against the wall with his back pressed tight. His arms were crossed and he had one boot pressed to the flat of the wall. The poor kid was still in the street, and he knew he'd have to leave it soon. But for now he needed to cool his jets before he started stomping anything and everything out like a damned fire. 

 

"I mean when I say, if'n you can't help me put some things t'rest, we can finish here." He'd glare at her, but it was one filled with question; unobtainable by himself. Say something cocky- I ruttin' dare you. Say. Something. Cocky. This city was just as worse as the last.

[Zhavi]

"Ye like playin' deaf, don't ye?" Zhi started backing up -- she had no intention of sticking around any longer than she had to. "Or is it more that ye jes prefer listenin' t' yerself talkin'?"

[Jager]

BOOM!

 

 

And just like that, he'd pull the trigger. Only this time, the barrel was aimed just shy of her head, deliberately off to the side so that it would hit the corner and shower her in a hail of broken rock. "Don't fuck wit me right now, Z." Smoke sifted towards the skies while he slowly tucked the pistol away. He'd slide down the wall, squat until he was bending his knees. Both hands were resting in between his legs and he'd just look up at her. Despite having fired the damn gun, his face had gone back to cool and complacent, near expressionless, all 'cept for the gears tickin' in his eyes. 

 

"Z. Z. Heh. Never did tell me what it was short fer." He pats his shirt down and when he can't find his smokes, he rolls his eyes. "Smoke?" Pause. Shrug. "My employer ins't a nice man. This gets back to 'im, I'm done. That bloke-" he nods with his chin to the fellow that was here minutes ago, "Got t'die now. Knows too much. You. Too much. That one." He doesn't even bother looking at the kids body, "His chum warned him. Near begged him to turn the other way when I approached." Shrug. "We gamble with our lives, and every day mine is on the line. Sometimes closer than I'd like." He could really use a smoke right now. He was making the motions and everything as if he had one. "I agreed to scratch your back in turn for scratchin' mine. Took out a ship for ye to prove it. I need t'know you're not scratchin' mine with the tip'o yer dagger, right."

[Zhavi]

The sound was loud. Its reverberation covered the sound of Zhi dropping to the ground. That was humiliating. It was also ingrained self-preservation. Alas, Zhavi would never be the sort of woman who could stare a man in the eyes and not flinch when he fired right past her head. And, now her ears were ringing. Eyes were fucked, ears were fucked, nose was fucked -- she'd have to reconsider her habits. She grimaced. Again.

 

Standing up again was a second humiliation she tried to play off as she dusted herself off. Oh, if he'd been aiming at her the little dive to the ground would have been done with the bullet (ball?) lodged in her or blown out the back. She looked down at him. Another grin lit up her face, and it reached all the way to her eyes. Sure, maybe it made her look a little deranged, but who could blame her?

 

Nald'thal, ye buggerin' bastard, smile!

 

She found a smoke, took some few steps back to him (her insides churning a little, heartbeat speeding up), handed it over. "Zhavi," she muttered, stalling. "Not that it matters, ye crazy scrag."

 

She considered what she had to say as she pulled out flint and steel, ready to light up the smoke once he took it. "We agreed t'be partners. Nothin's changed 'less ye don't trust me t'do me job. So, ain't about whether'r not I help ye. It's 'bout whether'r not ye'll let me. I ain't th'type what goes back on dealin's less there's a real good reason, an' there ain't been any."

 

The lad, in his death, had released his bowels. It stank. The blood stank.

 

"Ain't nothin' I can say what'll make ye trust me, Jager. Ye have t'make that choice on yer own."

 

Trust, itself, was a funny word. There was no trust between them, just an assurance of mutual cooperation. His decision was based on whether or not he thought she'd found a good enough reason to screw him over. It was a gamble. Dealing with people was always a gamble.

 

But that was what made it so damn fun.

[Jager]

“Zhavi. Heh, why did I figure it'd be somethin' just as ridiculous?”

 

He holstered the gun and shifted his weight to one hip before reaching for the cigarette. Now this was something else. She was actually going to offer him one of these, after everything that had happened. She was still going to call him a crazy scrag, and above all else, she was still here. There was some mutual respect there, for someone just as insane as him. His ears rang, and they rang hard.

 

“So long as the knife stays out of my back, we'll be fine. Let's make sure there isn't a good 'nuff reason, either.” He'd step past Zhavi if she let him, and past the corpse. Maybe a decade or so again, he might have felt something forthe kid laying there in his own shit and blood, but for the deadened-nerved captain standing above it, this was just business. “Ye'kin get me back for this one 'nother time, we need to get outta here now.” He knew she'd not let his spying get off easy.

 

 

“Got somewhere to lay low for a few?”