Quinn wasn't entirely sure where they'd gone, but she made an informed guess of The Hat Cellar and got it in one. It made sense; the Rat was a tad too reputable. Here, they could plot gang wars and assassinations all they liked and nobody would turn an ear - except Ears, of course, but he would find out anyway. Plotting in the Hat Cellar itself sent a message of friendship to his collective and he would not sell this information to Soubrette's enemies unless she did something to lose that friendship.
Zaryel and the others - mainly Luki - were talking business when she arrived, but when she entered, Zaryel quickly excused himself and darted over.
He grinned his trademark grin, at which she just rolled her eyes. "So," he said,"what's with the white knight?"
She feigned innocence. "What do you mean, what's with him? He's the leader of that compound. He's from out west somewhere, I think."
"And he liikes you," said Zaryel, in a style perfected by nine-year olds all over the universe.
"He likes most people. It's practically his job."
"Yeah, but he liiikes you."
"Maybe." A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Zaryel grinned even wider and restrained himself from going, 'Oooooooh.' "What's it to you?" she said, finally, with an edge of playful defensiveness.
"Nothing. He just doesn't seem your type is all."
"No, you're right. Much more like your type."
Zaryel snickered and affected a wistful 'Ah, memories,' type look, which set Quinn off. "It's true, it's true," he said.
She shook her head, "I've missed you."
"Actually I wasn't going to tell you this, Soubrette, but that man is not unknown to me."
That started her giggling again. It was the dead-serious, confidential look he gave her when he said it.
"Actually he's not unkown to Blunt either." The exact nature of Blunt and Good Boy's relationship was a mystery, but that didn't stop Captain Gossip from speculating. Zaryel got steadily louder, turning heads at various tables,"He's a notorious maneater! Be aware, Soubrette! He'll eat you alive!"
Quinn gasped for breath, slumping against Zaryel for support. "Gods I've missed you."
"You've only been gone a few days."
"It feels like a lifetime."
They drifted back to the table where three merceneries sat waiting. Quinn located herself an ale and tried to ignore the wistful look Zaryel gave it as he sipped his water.
"So, how's it going?"
"Lucky thinks he'll have gone underground," explained Zaryel.
"If I know that yellow piece of shit, we won't find him easily," Lucky supplied in her own words.
"He'll know people are after him," the pirate continued, "if not necessarily sent by your Hero back there, other gangs. Vultures. So he won't be coming out. And if he still has the resources, which he probably has - your guy doesn't seem like the looting type - he may be hiring more muscle. We're going to have to be prepared for the possibility that they'll find us before we find them. After all - they probably know we're coming. We can only speculate as to whether they're advancing, running away, or both."
This, Quinn realised as she glanced around, was probably the reason for the merceneries all having come out to drinks in most of the armour they went out in this morning. Blunt had ditched the army colours and the shield, which had been mostly for show, but apart from that they were armed to the teeth.
"So, erm... I know you don't like this," Zaryel said, lowering his voice and speaking directly to her, "But I very much doubt that you're going to be left out of this if they work out you're involved. And if they know how the boss has been acting with you, well, you might as well paint a big target on your back. I really, really don't want you to keep wandering around unarmoured and unarmed."
"I'm more flexible that way."
"Lucky says she can lend you some stuff. You and her are about the same size in the body, and she does all that acrobatic stuff you like. You'll still be able to - "
"Not like that. I mean, flexible in the sense of, I'll be able to blag my way out of things by pretending to be some innocent, some streetwalker not worth their time or something. If I'm armed, I can't just disappear like that." What she didn't mention were the more pressing (to her) unspoken reasons; she was scared, and she didn't like to think of herself as that kind of person. Luckily Zaryel was probably slow enough to take her word at face value.
"And you're not a fighter, so you don't think you should have to be prepared like one. Plus you're scared, right?"
She glared at him across the table. The others silently watched; it was never wise for a mercenery to miss anything about the psychology of the group they found themselves in. "Yes. I have every right to be; I don't know how to use a weapon. You know what happens to people who walk around with weapons they can't use? The weapons get used on them by someone who knows how, that's what happens."
Zaryel dug around in his bag and retrieved a little something he'd picked up at Pointy's earlier today. He laid it on the table in front of her. "Pistol crossbow." he explained. "Lucky's got one like it. Easy to hide, and you can just point and shoot. You pretty much only get one shot because it's a bugger to reload, but it's better than nothing."
Quinn stared at it in silence until Zaryel leaned over and put a hand on hers. "Look, I know you always like to think of yourself as a non-combatant and thus immune, but you don't have that option now. Or I guess you do; you can go hide away in that compound, if that is really what you would prefer. But out here you're going to be in as much danger as the rest of us, and I'm not going to be able to sleep unless I think you're just a tiny bit prepared. Zan - "
"Okay."
Lucky smiled at her. "I'll show you how to use it after dark tonight, and we can go find you some armour. But you can conceal that thing in the kind of get-up you wore last night if you really want."
Quinn smirked and thought about following that up with a double entendre, but then realised that in present company her goal of winding the men up may not be entirely possible to achieve. Not for her and Lucky, anyway.
That particular issue dealt with, they settled back to discussing exactly how they could find out where Snyde was hiding, and how they'd know his gang if and when it came after them.
Pest Control
Re: Pest Control
People tended to avoid sudden movements in the Hat Cellar, just in case anybody got ideas, so the rapid appearance and disappearance of a small, scruffy boy drew much attention. He stood, uncertain, at the foot of the stairs down for a second until people turned back to their drinks, then wandered over and whispered something in the ear of the underworld's walking encyclopaedia, who rewarded him with a coin. Then he made his way over to the table where Captain Ranzenagin and his merceneries sat.
"Miss Lucky," he said, still a little breathless.
"Yes," said Luki Lepowitz. She glanced back over her shoulder, "You didn't tell me you were working for Ears, too. Nevermind. What is it?"
"You wanted any talk about Snyde?"
She nodded encouragingly.
"Yeh. Well, there's talk. Or, like... a message." He caught his breath and leaned in close, speaking so only those at the table could hear. "I wasn't there, right? But one of the other street kids, Janna, right, she saw this big guy over near the ruins. Then she went there 'cause he might of been from out of town and given her money, but he weren't there. Only there was a dead guy there. And this writing. I don't know what it says, and Janna don't either, but she drew a picture of what it looks like."
He retrived a stone from his pocket, obviously scavenged from the ruins, on which somebody had scratched, in that particular wobbly way of people copying down letters without recognising them for what they were, 'SNYDES TERRA(crossed out) TERRO(crossed out) TURF.'
"She reckons that first word there, that says Snyde. Like, seh, neh, eeey, deh-eh." He smiled, proud of himself for being able to sound it out. "I've seen it before." He added, nodding sagely. "Oh, and I forgot this bit - it was in blood."
Luki turned slowly to the others, a wide grin slowly forming itself on her face. She turned back to the kid, paid him a whole Bishan and sent him away.
"So it begins," she said, still smiling. "Our pest is obviously feeling a little more cocksure than we expected. So! We send a message of our own. We can't allow this to go unreturned."
"Why?" said Daggie immediately. Everybody looked at him, and he shrugged.
"No, I get it," said Quinn. "Part of this is discrediting him, right? He can't be allowed to scrape back even a little bit of street cred. That way he'll be easier to defeat."
"That's right. And we should work out who tried to impose on his territory. They could be a useful ally."
Zaryel nodded to each of them. "I propose we go down to Snyde's old turf en masse, armed and ready for a fight should there be one, and leave our own message - Snyde is not coming back, or I dunno, Soubrette's good at that, come up with something catchy. We crush any hope Snyde might have had that he's going to weasel his way back where he was. Are we all ready?"
He looked around. Everyone was as armoured as they had been this morning, only Blunt was a little more manouvereable. Luki excused herself for a moment, and went out to a side room - evidently she was lodging in the Hat Cellar at the moment - returning a moment later with a female-shaped leather cuirass like her own, which she tossed to Soubrette.
She winked. "You'll catch your death, dear."
A few minutes later they headed out, Soubrette practically twitching in the strange, not-quite-fitting cuirass and with a crossbow burning a hole in her pocket. She forced herself to walk upright and look dangerous. She was fine at looking dangerous.
tbc... in the Ruins (maybe)
"Miss Lucky," he said, still a little breathless.
"Yes," said Luki Lepowitz. She glanced back over her shoulder, "You didn't tell me you were working for Ears, too. Nevermind. What is it?"
"You wanted any talk about Snyde?"
She nodded encouragingly.
"Yeh. Well, there's talk. Or, like... a message." He caught his breath and leaned in close, speaking so only those at the table could hear. "I wasn't there, right? But one of the other street kids, Janna, right, she saw this big guy over near the ruins. Then she went there 'cause he might of been from out of town and given her money, but he weren't there. Only there was a dead guy there. And this writing. I don't know what it says, and Janna don't either, but she drew a picture of what it looks like."
He retrived a stone from his pocket, obviously scavenged from the ruins, on which somebody had scratched, in that particular wobbly way of people copying down letters without recognising them for what they were, 'SNYDES TERRA(crossed out) TERRO(crossed out) TURF.'
"She reckons that first word there, that says Snyde. Like, seh, neh, eeey, deh-eh." He smiled, proud of himself for being able to sound it out. "I've seen it before." He added, nodding sagely. "Oh, and I forgot this bit - it was in blood."
Luki turned slowly to the others, a wide grin slowly forming itself on her face. She turned back to the kid, paid him a whole Bishan and sent him away.
"So it begins," she said, still smiling. "Our pest is obviously feeling a little more cocksure than we expected. So! We send a message of our own. We can't allow this to go unreturned."
"Why?" said Daggie immediately. Everybody looked at him, and he shrugged.
"No, I get it," said Quinn. "Part of this is discrediting him, right? He can't be allowed to scrape back even a little bit of street cred. That way he'll be easier to defeat."
"That's right. And we should work out who tried to impose on his territory. They could be a useful ally."
Zaryel nodded to each of them. "I propose we go down to Snyde's old turf en masse, armed and ready for a fight should there be one, and leave our own message - Snyde is not coming back, or I dunno, Soubrette's good at that, come up with something catchy. We crush any hope Snyde might have had that he's going to weasel his way back where he was. Are we all ready?"
He looked around. Everyone was as armoured as they had been this morning, only Blunt was a little more manouvereable. Luki excused herself for a moment, and went out to a side room - evidently she was lodging in the Hat Cellar at the moment - returning a moment later with a female-shaped leather cuirass like her own, which she tossed to Soubrette.
She winked. "You'll catch your death, dear."
A few minutes later they headed out, Soubrette practically twitching in the strange, not-quite-fitting cuirass and with a crossbow burning a hole in her pocket. She forced herself to walk upright and look dangerous. She was fine at looking dangerous.
tbc... in the Ruins (maybe)