Dirk surveyed the little room, ignoring the decor in favour of more important things. The window, for instance, was too small to dart through easily, although he was sure he could get through it if he had to. Nice inconspicious landing; that was good. The drop was annoying but not undoable.
Door was flimsy, easy to break. The woman held the key. They were secure against random thieves, but the people after them would be bright enough to block each end of the alley before taking the front door. Tehri behaviour in the bar suggests that they'd want to avoid a scene, though, so as long as the group could get back into the lobby they wouldn't be in immediate danger.
Unfortunately, their position made it very difficult for Dirk to sneak off if he needed to. "Right," he acknowledged Iarei. "What's the plan?"
In for a Bishan
Re: In for a Bishan
Still completely unsure of himself, these people, this place, this whole messed up situation, Erryl quietly followed the others to the room, in which Iarei indicated they would discuss what needed to be discussed. He stood silently and listened, barely glancing at the room as he focused his attention on the humans and their words, their opinions and, most importantly, their plans. They, at least, knew what they were up against, or so it seemed. Unlike me...
Why must I be so useless? His fingers toyed with the bracelet on his wrist, a nervous habit, as he tried to concentrate on what was happening, despite distracting thoughts continuously trying to force their way into his mind. If only I listened when people tell me everything I do is a waste of time...
With a sigh, Erryl took a seat on the floor, his back against the wall, and stretched out his legs. They were still sore, as was his head, and he still felt nauseated. His attention was still focused on the other people in the room, or... most of it, anyway. And I'm also still a coward...
But he could deal with that later. Right now, all he needed to do was stay alert and listen.
Why must I be so useless? His fingers toyed with the bracelet on his wrist, a nervous habit, as he tried to concentrate on what was happening, despite distracting thoughts continuously trying to force their way into his mind. If only I listened when people tell me everything I do is a waste of time...
With a sigh, Erryl took a seat on the floor, his back against the wall, and stretched out his legs. They were still sore, as was his head, and he still felt nauseated. His attention was still focused on the other people in the room, or... most of it, anyway. And I'm also still a coward...
But he could deal with that later. Right now, all he needed to do was stay alert and listen.
Re: In for a Bishan
Jester's first instinct was to copy Er-something and put her back to the wall. She couldn't trust these people to watch it, after all. Not anymore. But if she thought in terms of performances, she knew that her body language would say thing she didn't want to reveal if she did that.
She took a seat in the middle of the floor, cross-legged and facing Iarei. I'm comfortable with this company, she said silently, and I'm looking to you for directions. She relaxed her stiff-as-an-angry-cat posture, rooted around in her pack for her spare pair of shoes. Need her plainclothes too, she decided absently. Her performing outfit was too flashy if they were going to be dealing with bad types of people. She'd known some before - not many, you understand. Neither her nor her troupe had held with those sorts - but enough to understand that it wasn't a good idea to mark yourself as a target around them.
I'm willing to take my eyes off you, she was saying with every movement. I trust you. The part of her that wanted to shout, deny what was happening, stomp and storm off in search what Marn was supposed to be about was shut off neatly in a corner of her head. Well, mostly. She couldn't contain the slight pout that made her look more like petulant child than a willing, able member of the group. The rest of her was cool and slow as a snake stalking its dinner, refusing to race frantically about for a way out.
All of it was an Act, of course. She would play her part until her role was finished, and no more. Professional, until the end.
She took a seat in the middle of the floor, cross-legged and facing Iarei. I'm comfortable with this company, she said silently, and I'm looking to you for directions. She relaxed her stiff-as-an-angry-cat posture, rooted around in her pack for her spare pair of shoes. Need her plainclothes too, she decided absently. Her performing outfit was too flashy if they were going to be dealing with bad types of people. She'd known some before - not many, you understand. Neither her nor her troupe had held with those sorts - but enough to understand that it wasn't a good idea to mark yourself as a target around them.
I'm willing to take my eyes off you, she was saying with every movement. I trust you. The part of her that wanted to shout, deny what was happening, stomp and storm off in search what Marn was supposed to be about was shut off neatly in a corner of her head. Well, mostly. She couldn't contain the slight pout that made her look more like petulant child than a willing, able member of the group. The rest of her was cool and slow as a snake stalking its dinner, refusing to race frantically about for a way out.
All of it was an Act, of course. She would play her part until her role was finished, and no more. Professional, until the end.
Re: In for a Bishan
Iarei fought the urge to lay down and close her eyes. Actually, the pressing desire to just take a three second blink was bearing down on her so hard that she almost missed what Dirken had said. And once he'd said it, it took another ten seconds for her to process it. Safe bolthole. Comfortable bed. Sleep was what any reasonable person would expect.
Which was when the idea struck her. She frowned at the thought, and stared straight ahead at Jester, through Jester, so that the woman's odd body language didn't even register. She'd have to trust them. But even if she didn't do it immediately, she'd have to do it sometime, and if she held their hands until they bonded into something resembling a working unit, she'd never get any sleep.
A minute had passed when she dragged her gaze towards Dirken. "We have this room and the one opposite. You and him will sleep across the hall. Boy will sleep in here with myself and Jester." Jester the wildcard. Jester with clinging morals. It would be the other two, then.
"You and him," she nodded between Dirken and Erryl, "will spend some time for the remainder of today finding out who in Marn deals in odd wares and information. Be discreet about it, and have a few different reasons ready why you're asking around. Do not stand out unless you want people remembering you. Which you don't." She lifted her eyebrows with a significant, if a little cranky, expression, pinning both men with her most striking stare.
So what if it was a little droopy around the edges?
"Jester will remain here with me. I need to take a nap. I'll be up at dark. I talked with the keep downstairs; there's a small common room at the back that you can perform in for some bishani, Jester. I'll take my turn later. We'll need the revenue. Boy will remain here with me. Here's the key, uh, Dir. . ." the name came to her slowly, and awkwardly, ". . .ky. Uh." She held it out and was mostly successful at not looking embarassed.
Belatedly, she remembered that securing consent was by no means a bad idea. "Sound good?"
Which was when the idea struck her. She frowned at the thought, and stared straight ahead at Jester, through Jester, so that the woman's odd body language didn't even register. She'd have to trust them. But even if she didn't do it immediately, she'd have to do it sometime, and if she held their hands until they bonded into something resembling a working unit, she'd never get any sleep.
A minute had passed when she dragged her gaze towards Dirken. "We have this room and the one opposite. You and him will sleep across the hall. Boy will sleep in here with myself and Jester." Jester the wildcard. Jester with clinging morals. It would be the other two, then.
"You and him," she nodded between Dirken and Erryl, "will spend some time for the remainder of today finding out who in Marn deals in odd wares and information. Be discreet about it, and have a few different reasons ready why you're asking around. Do not stand out unless you want people remembering you. Which you don't." She lifted her eyebrows with a significant, if a little cranky, expression, pinning both men with her most striking stare.
So what if it was a little droopy around the edges?
"Jester will remain here with me. I need to take a nap. I'll be up at dark. I talked with the keep downstairs; there's a small common room at the back that you can perform in for some bishani, Jester. I'll take my turn later. We'll need the revenue. Boy will remain here with me. Here's the key, uh, Dir. . ." the name came to her slowly, and awkwardly, ". . .ky. Uh." She held it out and was mostly successful at not looking embarassed.
Belatedly, she remembered that securing consent was by no means a bad idea. "Sound good?"
Re: In for a Bishan
Dirk gave a short nod as he took the key. Hehe, "Dirky".
Erryl might be useful, actually. He had that shy newcomer aura about him that Dirken had never really managed to pull off. Real innocents made the best fronts. Besides, he seemed naive, which would be useful if Dirk had to go take care of any personal business.
Not that he really wanted that to happen. Jester wasn't all that useful and he'd blundered contact with her anyway, but Iarei and Erryl may be useful contacts, if he could arrange things so that he didn't have to betray them. Iarei was obviously a professional, and one of the kinds that he really liked partnering with; just let her think she was in charge and she'd be happy. Those were the best; they'd pick up any extra duties or risks because they felt responsible, and if you played the obedient lackey for a few minutes they seemed to forget that you could betray them at any time. And Erryl... Erryl looked easy to bring over to the shady side, as it were. People like that were useful to collect, just in case. Unless, of course, it was an act; Dirken had pulled that one once or twice. But if it was, Erryl was a really good actor.
Actually, it might be worth finding some blackmail material on Jester while he was here; she was a woman who could be controlled by fear when it came to small favours, Dirken predicted, especially if they seemed harmless enough. A pair of eyes on the street was useful, even if she didn't like him. Such contacts could only be used in moderation, but when push came to shove they could spell the difference between collecting a bounty and getting arrested.
Dirken dumped his pack in his room before leaving, after removing a few choice items. He hated leaving his possessions anywhere, but if they were caught it'd be nice not to lose everything.
"So... Erryl. We should scope this while it's still light. Ever fenced anything before?"
Erryl might be useful, actually. He had that shy newcomer aura about him that Dirken had never really managed to pull off. Real innocents made the best fronts. Besides, he seemed naive, which would be useful if Dirk had to go take care of any personal business.
Not that he really wanted that to happen. Jester wasn't all that useful and he'd blundered contact with her anyway, but Iarei and Erryl may be useful contacts, if he could arrange things so that he didn't have to betray them. Iarei was obviously a professional, and one of the kinds that he really liked partnering with; just let her think she was in charge and she'd be happy. Those were the best; they'd pick up any extra duties or risks because they felt responsible, and if you played the obedient lackey for a few minutes they seemed to forget that you could betray them at any time. And Erryl... Erryl looked easy to bring over to the shady side, as it were. People like that were useful to collect, just in case. Unless, of course, it was an act; Dirken had pulled that one once or twice. But if it was, Erryl was a really good actor.
Actually, it might be worth finding some blackmail material on Jester while he was here; she was a woman who could be controlled by fear when it came to small favours, Dirken predicted, especially if they seemed harmless enough. A pair of eyes on the street was useful, even if she didn't like him. Such contacts could only be used in moderation, but when push came to shove they could spell the difference between collecting a bounty and getting arrested.
Dirken dumped his pack in his room before leaving, after removing a few choice items. He hated leaving his possessions anywhere, but if they were caught it'd be nice not to lose everything.
"So... Erryl. We should scope this while it's still light. Ever fenced anything before?"
Re: In for a Bishan
Erryl barely had time to get over the shock of Iarei’s words before Dirken was out the door and ready to leave. He climbed quickly, a little clumsily, back up onto his feet; too fast, he realised, as the blood rushed from his head, causing light to dance before his eyes and throwing off his balance. He blinked and tried not to let his dizziness show as he hurried after Dirken, meeting him as he left their room, heading back towards the stairs.
"So... Erryl. We should scope this while it's still light. Ever fenced anything before?"
"Fenced? Uh...” What have I gotten myself into? “No.” I’m going to die... “Where are we going first?”
He almost stopped as they descended the stairs, but the knowledge that there was currently no way out of this situation kept his legs moving. Perhaps she sent me out here because she knows I’ll probably get killed. The man they passed as they reached the foyer – most likely another guest of The Proper Lady – seemed to give them an odd look. Perhaps I'm getting a little too paranoid...
Just follow Dirken, he told himself silently, forcing himself to remain as calm as possible. He knows what he’s doing.
"So... Erryl. We should scope this while it's still light. Ever fenced anything before?"
"Fenced? Uh...” What have I gotten myself into? “No.” I’m going to die... “Where are we going first?”
He almost stopped as they descended the stairs, but the knowledge that there was currently no way out of this situation kept his legs moving. Perhaps she sent me out here because she knows I’ll probably get killed. The man they passed as they reached the foyer – most likely another guest of The Proper Lady – seemed to give them an odd look. Perhaps I'm getting a little too paranoid...
Just follow Dirken, he told himself silently, forcing himself to remain as calm as possible. He knows what he’s doing.
Re: In for a Bishan
Jester watched Dirky - was that his name? She could have sworn she'd heard... but if Iarei said so, and he responded... odd name for a man like that, though - and a blinking and visibly bewildered Er-something leave, with the same bland distance she was keeping from everything at the moment. Barely a shade of pity for Er-something colored her mind as she finished lacing up her shoes and ran through her list of acts.
She was grateful to Iarei for giving her something she could do with little thought, already in the space in her head where performing came most naturally to her. There, there was only room for what she could perform in a high-class place like this that wouldn't upset her ankle too badly. Some basic juggling should be okay, and she could test out her new knives before bringing in the fire batons. Then she could move into some of her more active (rather more ribald, to be honest) tales, finish with a few ballads accompanied by her amateurish plinking on the lute, if they had no other musicians.
Even as she limped downstairs and asked for directions from the innkeep - not blanching or blushing in embarrassment when he eyed her curiously over his long nose, though parts of her wanted to - she did not allow herself to entertain thoughts not pertaining to entertaining. Certainly no thoughts of how though Iarei hid her exhaustion well, as expected, the nap she mentioned would surely be deep enough that she wouldn't wake even if the inn collapsed about her ears. Definitely no thoughts about how simple it would be to sneak up back to the room after her performance and take the statues. Absolutely no thoughts about doing... something with them. Something good.
Fine, so she hadn't planned that far ahead. Because she wasn't planning. She was getting ready to perform. She was being a trustworthy member of their group and following orders. Earning money that they would need to further their nefarious and highly illegal plans. Not allowing that spark of anticipation in doing something so unscrupulous as stealing from a trusting companion in the name of the greater good to put a nervous skip in her steps or a shiver in her hands as she began her act.
She was just waiting for her chance.
She was grateful to Iarei for giving her something she could do with little thought, already in the space in her head where performing came most naturally to her. There, there was only room for what she could perform in a high-class place like this that wouldn't upset her ankle too badly. Some basic juggling should be okay, and she could test out her new knives before bringing in the fire batons. Then she could move into some of her more active (rather more ribald, to be honest) tales, finish with a few ballads accompanied by her amateurish plinking on the lute, if they had no other musicians.
Even as she limped downstairs and asked for directions from the innkeep - not blanching or blushing in embarrassment when he eyed her curiously over his long nose, though parts of her wanted to - she did not allow herself to entertain thoughts not pertaining to entertaining. Certainly no thoughts of how though Iarei hid her exhaustion well, as expected, the nap she mentioned would surely be deep enough that she wouldn't wake even if the inn collapsed about her ears. Definitely no thoughts about how simple it would be to sneak up back to the room after her performance and take the statues. Absolutely no thoughts about doing... something with them. Something good.
Fine, so she hadn't planned that far ahead. Because she wasn't planning. She was getting ready to perform. She was being a trustworthy member of their group and following orders. Earning money that they would need to further their nefarious and highly illegal plans. Not allowing that spark of anticipation in doing something so unscrupulous as stealing from a trusting companion in the name of the greater good to put a nervous skip in her steps or a shiver in her hands as she began her act.
She was just waiting for her chance.
Re: In for a Bishan
"Hyuuuuuuuuuuhhh." Iarei let out a long sigh. Alone with boy. She stared at him, her eyelids sleep heavy.
He had been quiet, and unobtrusive, utilizing skills she'd pretty much beaten into him but rarely displayed. Hoping, maybe, she'd fall asleep without addressing him or noticing that yes, he was still breathing and in the same room. It had been a long night, and a longer morning, and though she was tired she decided to give him one last chance for grace.
"Boy -- " but his eyes stopped her, settled with ire somewhere around boot level, and she became inexplicitly cranky. So she stood up, standing over him, and backhanded him so hard it felt like her knuckles would bruise. He had been sitting, but he lost his balance and nearly crashed to the ground. Quick reflexes saved him that embarrassment. "What are you, Changers' get? Coulda sworn when I picked you up that you were a bastard and a bad thief, but I thought you weren't stupid. You gonna prove me wrong now? Huh?"
"You -- "
"And shut up. Don't speak to me with that ridiculous look on your face. Don't even look at me. I don't want to talk with you, I just want you to listen for once like a normal person and not some egomaniac idiot."
Boy was biting his lip, his face a deep red, but Iarei didn't stop to pay him pity. She'd learned harder lessons at his age, and saw no need to spare him when he had it so good. "Would you like to go back to picking bishani? Then don't push me. I'll push back, and harder than you ever will. I'm going to sleep, so stay put and try not to screw things up worse, you little shithead."
"I hate you." Small voiced and vulnerable, angry and scared.
"I said I'm going to sleep."
Silence.
She was angry, and maybe in her anger she forgot that he could be angry too, and worse. He didn't have to stop to think of consequences, only of the roiling hurt inside that clawed at his stomach. He was so furious it made him want to cry for the helplessness, his inability to just leave her. But he knew he couldn't make it alone. He'd seen, and recalled vividly what happened to most streetbrats. He didn't want that.
Maybe though, maybe he could do things his way.
He waited until she was asleep, until her deep regular breaths assured him she wouldn't wake too easily. Carefully he got on the bed, easing a hand under her overcoat to where he knew she kept her main purse. Lucky she was so tired, else she would have hidden it closer to her body. Slowly he eased out his tiny pocketknife, the one he used for pens and adjusting instruments, and worried at the purse until a small hole appeared. He worked at it, fraying it with his fingers so it looked like a natural hole had worn through with the pressure of the figures.
Then he reached up and pulled one through, widening it so it slid out easily, but not so much that the bishani could escape too. He bit his lip. He wondered if he should slit her throat. The thought stopped him, and sweat broke over his forehead. He bit his lip in misery. He didn't want to harm her, he just wanted her to see, to see him for once and praise him. That was all. He would show her for always yelling at him, and telling him he was worthless. He'd show her she knew nothing, so she couldn't say anything at all. He would make things right, and then she would see.
He eased back off the bed, and went back to his corner, wiping at his treacherous eyes and hiding his face in his knees until he could calm down enough to figure out where to hide the figure so Iarei wouldn't find out he had it. He hugged himself, and rocked a little, biting down on the urge to make noise. Once he was settled, he hid the statue. Then, he saw to the dog bite on his leg. Iarei hadn't even noticed. He frowned and chewed on his lip, but it wasn't too bad and he could take care of it himself. He wasn't stupid. He could do things on his own.
By the time he was done, he too was tired, and he curled up to go to sleep.
He had been quiet, and unobtrusive, utilizing skills she'd pretty much beaten into him but rarely displayed. Hoping, maybe, she'd fall asleep without addressing him or noticing that yes, he was still breathing and in the same room. It had been a long night, and a longer morning, and though she was tired she decided to give him one last chance for grace.
"Boy -- " but his eyes stopped her, settled with ire somewhere around boot level, and she became inexplicitly cranky. So she stood up, standing over him, and backhanded him so hard it felt like her knuckles would bruise. He had been sitting, but he lost his balance and nearly crashed to the ground. Quick reflexes saved him that embarrassment. "What are you, Changers' get? Coulda sworn when I picked you up that you were a bastard and a bad thief, but I thought you weren't stupid. You gonna prove me wrong now? Huh?"
"You -- "
"And shut up. Don't speak to me with that ridiculous look on your face. Don't even look at me. I don't want to talk with you, I just want you to listen for once like a normal person and not some egomaniac idiot."
Boy was biting his lip, his face a deep red, but Iarei didn't stop to pay him pity. She'd learned harder lessons at his age, and saw no need to spare him when he had it so good. "Would you like to go back to picking bishani? Then don't push me. I'll push back, and harder than you ever will. I'm going to sleep, so stay put and try not to screw things up worse, you little shithead."
"I hate you." Small voiced and vulnerable, angry and scared.
"I said I'm going to sleep."
Silence.
She was angry, and maybe in her anger she forgot that he could be angry too, and worse. He didn't have to stop to think of consequences, only of the roiling hurt inside that clawed at his stomach. He was so furious it made him want to cry for the helplessness, his inability to just leave her. But he knew he couldn't make it alone. He'd seen, and recalled vividly what happened to most streetbrats. He didn't want that.
Maybe though, maybe he could do things his way.
He waited until she was asleep, until her deep regular breaths assured him she wouldn't wake too easily. Carefully he got on the bed, easing a hand under her overcoat to where he knew she kept her main purse. Lucky she was so tired, else she would have hidden it closer to her body. Slowly he eased out his tiny pocketknife, the one he used for pens and adjusting instruments, and worried at the purse until a small hole appeared. He worked at it, fraying it with his fingers so it looked like a natural hole had worn through with the pressure of the figures.
Then he reached up and pulled one through, widening it so it slid out easily, but not so much that the bishani could escape too. He bit his lip. He wondered if he should slit her throat. The thought stopped him, and sweat broke over his forehead. He bit his lip in misery. He didn't want to harm her, he just wanted her to see, to see him for once and praise him. That was all. He would show her for always yelling at him, and telling him he was worthless. He'd show her she knew nothing, so she couldn't say anything at all. He would make things right, and then she would see.
He eased back off the bed, and went back to his corner, wiping at his treacherous eyes and hiding his face in his knees until he could calm down enough to figure out where to hide the figure so Iarei wouldn't find out he had it. He hugged himself, and rocked a little, biting down on the urge to make noise. Once he was settled, he hid the statue. Then, he saw to the dog bite on his leg. Iarei hadn't even noticed. He frowned and chewed on his lip, but it wasn't too bad and he could take care of it himself. He wasn't stupid. He could do things on his own.
By the time he was done, he too was tired, and he curled up to go to sleep.
Re: In for a Bishan
"The first thing we need to do is find a... criminal element," Dirken explained as they left the building. "This is pretty damn hard when you arrive in a new town with no connections, but Iarei doesn't seem to want to help and you obviously have no clue, so we're going to have to go fishing." He paused and looked Erryl up and down. Yep, the guy looked like a chump. No wonder the kid had picked him. He started walking again, heading for the marketplace.
Everyone kinew how to fish. You got your bait to walk around a bit until they got surrounded, then you dropped in and made your pitch. It worked better with girls, but Erryl would do. He was walking mug bait. The problem was that bait so rarely agreed to be bait, unless they were professional. And then there was the fact that they were trying to avoid certain 'criminal elements'.
"We just need to check alleys and stuff," he explained to Erryl. "It'll be faster if we split up. How about we go our separate ways and meet up in, say, an hour?"
Everyone kinew how to fish. You got your bait to walk around a bit until they got surrounded, then you dropped in and made your pitch. It worked better with girls, but Erryl would do. He was walking mug bait. The problem was that bait so rarely agreed to be bait, unless they were professional. And then there was the fact that they were trying to avoid certain 'criminal elements'.
"We just need to check alleys and stuff," he explained to Erryl. "It'll be faster if we split up. How about we go our separate ways and meet up in, say, an hour?"
Re: In for a Bishan
Erryl frowned at Dirken's words, before reminding himself they were right. I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. It was for this reason that the next thing he heard came as such a shock, stopping him in his tracks. "Split up...?"
He stared bewilderedly at Dirken, trying to understand why the man would do this to him. He was practically throwing him to the wolves. Erryl had no clue, he said so himself, so why would he expect me to be able to do anything on my own?
Wringing his hands nervously as he tried to decide on a course of action, he did as he usually did, searching for as much useful information as he could find. After all, finding information was his life. That’s why he spent so much time reading and observing, to gather information, and- wait, isn’t that what we’re doing now? Gathering information?
But this was different. This wasn’t just reading for the fun of it; this was dangerous, potentially deadly, and Erryl was not someone who was comfortable with danger. Not that he had much of a choice now; best to just find out as much as he could, increase the chances of survival, stay alert, and hope for a way out, as he'd been repeatedly telling himself to do all morning.
“What, uh... What exactly are we even looking for? In the... alleys... and stuff...”
He stared bewilderedly at Dirken, trying to understand why the man would do this to him. He was practically throwing him to the wolves. Erryl had no clue, he said so himself, so why would he expect me to be able to do anything on my own?
Wringing his hands nervously as he tried to decide on a course of action, he did as he usually did, searching for as much useful information as he could find. After all, finding information was his life. That’s why he spent so much time reading and observing, to gather information, and- wait, isn’t that what we’re doing now? Gathering information?
But this was different. This wasn’t just reading for the fun of it; this was dangerous, potentially deadly, and Erryl was not someone who was comfortable with danger. Not that he had much of a choice now; best to just find out as much as he could, increase the chances of survival, stay alert, and hope for a way out, as he'd been repeatedly telling himself to do all morning.
“What, uh... What exactly are we even looking for? In the... alleys... and stuff...”
Re: In for a Bishan
The performance went better than she had hoped. Well, not exactly better, there had been a few close calls with the knives - the balance wasn't as good as she'd hoped, damn that conniving, slick tongued merchant - and she'd had to give up on one of her longer ballads once she realized she no longer knew the chords to go with it, which had required a slightly awkward transition, but the pay out had been reasonably large. Over twenty bishani for just under an hour's work, and most of that for just standing in one place and singing. The innkeep also offered her the spot again in a few hours, provided she, ehem, perhaps change her outfit into something more suitable for those lovely songs of hers, hrmm?
She wasn't going to pretend that hadn't stung more than a little, but she bore with it. The jester was a performer for the common people, the crowds in the streets, or those whose responsibility in society called for a little ridiculousness once in a while. So maybe those in between could only appreciate someone more like calm and distinguished-looking Iarei, not someone with her active, well-phrased social commentary. Still, she'd worked so hard on her costume...
There were the stirrings of a storm of a headache in her temples, which happened sometimes after her performances, so she tried to hurry back to the room for some rest before it really hit her hard. The crowd that had come to watch her for their lunch hour entertainment - though at twelve strong, it could hardly be termed such - wasn't the sort she felt comfortable mingling with anyway, as she would have in some of the friendlier villages. Even if she had known that most of them were just clothing merchants from a traveling caravan who tipped generously to give themselves the illusion they could afford such niceties, she still would have shied away. Their well-woven cotton vests and thick waistlines were too intimidating for a common cloth girl like her.
One of the audience tried to approach her while she made her escape, a local Marnian by the sound of him, though there was a twang in his accent that suggested foreign beginnings. He was dressed about as well as the merchants, and nothing about his smooth features or mild colors announced thuggish intentions. The only memorable thing about him was the hunger that had haunted his pale eyes as he stared at her during her performance. There was always one or two with that look, she'd learned, although this was the first time it had been directed at her.
It was unsettling. She didn't like it, and by association, him. So when one of the merchants clapped the man on the shoulder and practically spun his fragile frame right about with his generous suggestion of a shared lunch, she ducked out and stumbled up the stairs as fast as she could. Especially now, she didn't need that sort of attention.
Iarei was still as a corpse in the middle of the bed, with only her soft snores to confirm that she hadn't, in fact, been murdered while Jester was gone. Her apprentice was curled up in a corner, also sound asleep. Good. She had forgotten the potential hindrance he might be. A quick search of her coat revealed the purse Jester'd seen her put the statues in. Luckily, nature had already made her a neat little hole to worm her fingers through in search of the infernal things.
There was one at her fingertips, a roll of her wrist letting it slid silently into her palm, but where was the other? Her hurried pat down of the purse - it jingled a little, but not, she hoped, enough to wake Iarei - revealed no other statue shape. Shit. Had it fallen out without their noticing? Was it even now in the hands of a child or a careless citizen who had no idea of the evils it could unleash?
No, she had to stay calm. It could have just fallen under the bed. She'd search the room, and if it wasn't there then she'd move onto the hallways. She still had a plan.
She plopped the statue in the hidden pouch that held the few coins she had left to her. That awful prickling feeling was even worse than the last time she'd held it, like whatever held the statue in check was weakening... and that was all she thought of the matter, lest she chuck the cursed thing out the window and have done with it. Her headache seemed to crash over her worse than usual, though, spotting her vision as she bent to her knees and began to search the floor for a hint of white.
She wasn't going to pretend that hadn't stung more than a little, but she bore with it. The jester was a performer for the common people, the crowds in the streets, or those whose responsibility in society called for a little ridiculousness once in a while. So maybe those in between could only appreciate someone more like calm and distinguished-looking Iarei, not someone with her active, well-phrased social commentary. Still, she'd worked so hard on her costume...
There were the stirrings of a storm of a headache in her temples, which happened sometimes after her performances, so she tried to hurry back to the room for some rest before it really hit her hard. The crowd that had come to watch her for their lunch hour entertainment - though at twelve strong, it could hardly be termed such - wasn't the sort she felt comfortable mingling with anyway, as she would have in some of the friendlier villages. Even if she had known that most of them were just clothing merchants from a traveling caravan who tipped generously to give themselves the illusion they could afford such niceties, she still would have shied away. Their well-woven cotton vests and thick waistlines were too intimidating for a common cloth girl like her.
One of the audience tried to approach her while she made her escape, a local Marnian by the sound of him, though there was a twang in his accent that suggested foreign beginnings. He was dressed about as well as the merchants, and nothing about his smooth features or mild colors announced thuggish intentions. The only memorable thing about him was the hunger that had haunted his pale eyes as he stared at her during her performance. There was always one or two with that look, she'd learned, although this was the first time it had been directed at her.
It was unsettling. She didn't like it, and by association, him. So when one of the merchants clapped the man on the shoulder and practically spun his fragile frame right about with his generous suggestion of a shared lunch, she ducked out and stumbled up the stairs as fast as she could. Especially now, she didn't need that sort of attention.
Iarei was still as a corpse in the middle of the bed, with only her soft snores to confirm that she hadn't, in fact, been murdered while Jester was gone. Her apprentice was curled up in a corner, also sound asleep. Good. She had forgotten the potential hindrance he might be. A quick search of her coat revealed the purse Jester'd seen her put the statues in. Luckily, nature had already made her a neat little hole to worm her fingers through in search of the infernal things.
There was one at her fingertips, a roll of her wrist letting it slid silently into her palm, but where was the other? Her hurried pat down of the purse - it jingled a little, but not, she hoped, enough to wake Iarei - revealed no other statue shape. Shit. Had it fallen out without their noticing? Was it even now in the hands of a child or a careless citizen who had no idea of the evils it could unleash?
No, she had to stay calm. It could have just fallen under the bed. She'd search the room, and if it wasn't there then she'd move onto the hallways. She still had a plan.
She plopped the statue in the hidden pouch that held the few coins she had left to her. That awful prickling feeling was even worse than the last time she'd held it, like whatever held the statue in check was weakening... and that was all she thought of the matter, lest she chuck the cursed thing out the window and have done with it. Her headache seemed to crash over her worse than usual, though, spotting her vision as she bent to her knees and began to search the floor for a hint of white.
Re: In for a Bishan
Sleeping soundly was something Iarei took for granted, since she'd been trained to be a light sleeper. But the events of the days leading up to this one had soured her some, and she slept so deeply that she wasn't waking for nothing. Where Iarei had been trained, however, boy had faced down life or death situations where sleeping deeply meant you were either roughed up or dead and with all of your stuff gone.
So he woke at the sound of jingling in Iarei's purse, though stayed still, and listened to the quiet and furtive noises Jester made as she searched the room. That wasn't normal. That couldn't be good. Hadn't she gone down to perform? That meant she wasn't supposed to be doing what she was doing. He couldn't see her. Did he stay still or confront her?
"Jester?" He asked before he could think it through, and pushed himself into a seated position. "Didya lose something?"
So he woke at the sound of jingling in Iarei's purse, though stayed still, and listened to the quiet and furtive noises Jester made as she searched the room. That wasn't normal. That couldn't be good. Hadn't she gone down to perform? That meant she wasn't supposed to be doing what she was doing. He couldn't see her. Did he stay still or confront her?
"Jester?" He asked before he could think it through, and pushed himself into a seated position. "Didya lose something?"
Re: In for a Bishan
"Well, we just have to look for..." ...an easy ambush site, where we wait for somebody to try to mug the bait before the backup shows up to negotiate... "isolated areas. Maybe with one or two people; shadowy areas. They're commonly used as hideouts. It's rude to go in numbers larger than one, it's considered threatening. They won't come if we go together. If you stumble in alone, though, a lookout will come over and strike up a conversation, and that's when we can deal. So how about you take the left side of the street, okay? Don't worry, I'll be within shouting distance... not that there's any danger or anything." Or, y'know, following along behind you out of sight and waiting until you get attacked.
Re: In for a Bishan
Within shouting distance? At least that was somewhat reassuring, not that Erryl could really believe there was no danger. Then again, we're in broad daylight; what's the worst that could happen?
In isolated areas...
"Uh... I don't know... I wouldn't know what to... say... or do..." Especially when they grab me and drag me off to sell me to some angry, crazy men who'll torture me for information I don't have, then dispose of me when they finally realise I'm useless to them.
As convincing as Dirken was... "No, I don't think it's a good idea. Really."
In isolated areas...
"Uh... I don't know... I wouldn't know what to... say... or do..." Especially when they grab me and drag me off to sell me to some angry, crazy men who'll torture me for information I don't have, then dispose of me when they finally realise I'm useless to them.
As convincing as Dirken was... "No, I don't think it's a good idea. Really."
Re: In for a Bishan
Ow ow ow pain ow ran through Jester's mind on an endless loop, floating just above the waves of sharp hurt crashing about in her skull. Barely a minute into her search, and she wanted only to hurl the statue far, far away and curl up in a corner until she could blink without wincing. She gritted her teeth against the urge. This was something she had to do, something only she could do.
And then, "Jester?" the call distant and dulled as though she were underwater. "Didya lose something?"
The silence had been so tense that when the voice broke through the lack of it sent Jester's head jerking toward the sound in a move she immediately regretted. Ow ow ow stupid headache shit ow. And now her stomach was rebelling too, threatening to push out all that breakfast (too much. It didn't feel so good to be full now). Just lovely.
She didn't recognize the voice, but it wasn't Iarei so it had to be her apprentice. His name escaped her struggling thoughts. Last she'd seen he'd been sound asleep, so what had woken him? Had it just been one of those incomprehensible reasons that children had so very often?
More importantly, how was she going to answer that? The last thing she wanted was for him to offer to help her. He was a child, though, and in her experience children were either thieves, brats, or high-pitched blurs of easily bruised dirty skin. So far the boy fit two out of three. He probably wouldn't even think to help her... but. There was always a but.
She collapsed onto her butt and scooted back to the wall. Her head gently knocked against the wood, the slight sting unnoticeable against the oceans of pain she was drowning in. She could barely think, let alone lie in this pitiful state.
Still, she had to try. Sighing out a long, whooshing breath, she struggled for an excuse. "Um... there was... something..." Think, brain, think! "for the, um... the, the act. A... prop. I... noticed it was gone, before, and came back to get it. But it, um, wasn't where I put it. So I was... looking... for it." It wasn't great, but hopefully (please oh please ow ow pain ow) it would do.
And then, "Jester?" the call distant and dulled as though she were underwater. "Didya lose something?"
The silence had been so tense that when the voice broke through the lack of it sent Jester's head jerking toward the sound in a move she immediately regretted. Ow ow ow stupid headache shit ow. And now her stomach was rebelling too, threatening to push out all that breakfast (too much. It didn't feel so good to be full now). Just lovely.
She didn't recognize the voice, but it wasn't Iarei so it had to be her apprentice. His name escaped her struggling thoughts. Last she'd seen he'd been sound asleep, so what had woken him? Had it just been one of those incomprehensible reasons that children had so very often?
More importantly, how was she going to answer that? The last thing she wanted was for him to offer to help her. He was a child, though, and in her experience children were either thieves, brats, or high-pitched blurs of easily bruised dirty skin. So far the boy fit two out of three. He probably wouldn't even think to help her... but. There was always a but.
She collapsed onto her butt and scooted back to the wall. Her head gently knocked against the wood, the slight sting unnoticeable against the oceans of pain she was drowning in. She could barely think, let alone lie in this pitiful state.
Still, she had to try. Sighing out a long, whooshing breath, she struggled for an excuse. "Um... there was... something..." Think, brain, think! "for the, um... the, the act. A... prop. I... noticed it was gone, before, and came back to get it. But it, um, wasn't where I put it. So I was... looking... for it." It wasn't great, but hopefully (please oh please ow ow pain ow) it would do.