Leash

[Qamra Kalara]

Fall 124

The meatbun made a satisfying sound as it smacked into the middle of Qamra's palm. "I'll take that as a compliment," she said.

The stall's current worker bristled, as he always did. Qamra enjoyed that look coming from him; though he was no warrior, it gave him a sense of danger. Added to that, his insults were nearly always hilarious.

"Pay and go," he snarled.

Qamra's grin grew wider. How cute was this man? She made a point of leaning under the awning, peering over the variety of foodstuffs as if unsure whether or not she wanted another. She stuck the unpaid-for bun in her mouth, digging in her clothes for her purse. He was such a stick in the mud to such a frequent and faithful customer. She told him as much, affecting the high pitched whine she heard so often from Marnian weaklings. His return glare was heard as much as it was felt.

Eventually, Qamra folded under the burdensome weight of boredom, and she paid. She tried to tip him, but he pushed it back at her. He had only touched her twice in all the years she had bought food from his stall: the first had occurred before he'd really taken a good look at her (their first meeting, and it had been busy), and the second had been an accident mere weeks after the first. Soon enough he was calling her pig-disgusting, among other tame epithets. It was like a love-song couched within blood-pudding. Good for the soul.

She took back her tip, knowing he would sooner throw it into the street (and she'd no desire to waste it on street brats), and gave him her very best smile. "See you tomorrow," she said, batting her eyes at him.

"Planes take you, diabolic whore," he muttered.

Qamra could tell he very much wanted to yell it, but he had learned better; the man to whom the stall belonged was Puradyne enough to quote the Tomes at her, but business-minded enough to never turn away profit. Her beau had been reprimanded in a most lovely manner over her. And what a wonderful feud they'd had since! She winked at him before turning away back to her original task. The meatbun was soon sent on its way down into her stomach, and she continued towards her assigned meeting space.

It was a hole-in-the-wall through the historical district and out the other end; the boarded up windows looked out over the Sooquoi Plains. All sorts of illicit meetings and deals went down there; the doorway was no longer functional since the upstairs had caved in. That made it a literal hole-in-the-wall, since the entrance had been made from the same structural collapse. It was horribly unsafe. Perhaps that was why Qamra liked it so much. She ducked under, ignoring a spasming couple making sounds like stuck pigs in one of the dark corners, and making eye-contact with two predatory dice-players working in the light of a beat-up lantern. She passed through, left to her thoughts admist the crumbling brick and rotting wood, and eventually came out the other side into a courtyard.

Funny trick of city planning that had left the odd hole. Locked in tight by four walls, it stared straight up into the sky, giving it two entrances if you didn't count the drop down from the surrounding four rooftops. The easier way was where she'd just come from. The harder way lead down deep somewhere. Almost nobody used that one. There were things down there, and while Qamra dearly loved the idea of meeting them, she was kept too much on her toes by her beloved superiors to have the time for a full day jaunt. Some day, though, she'd give it all the tender attention it deserved.

She immediately looked around for the shiny new recruit who'd been assigned her.

[Miklos]

Miklos stomped down the street, the raven Iskra on his shoulder. Ylli was on high somewhere, watching with her wary eyes. She'd let him know if trouble was approaching from any direction... though Mik had a suspicion trouble was going to be who he was meeting. He didn't know much about Qamra, save that she was a forceful presence and someone to be reckoned with. Or not, depending on how much you liked your body unwhipped.

He squinted at the skyline of the city, heading for the hole-in-the-wall he had been told about. It wasn't somewhere he had been before - Miklos tended to stay in his small, shady corner of the residential district if given his druthers - but the powers that were of the rebellion had told him to meet the woman here, so here it was to be.

He wasn't looking forward to it.

He ducked through a small opening, then around a corner, and then slipped into the shadows and emerged into a sunlight courtyard. Weak sunlight, but much better than the dingy shadows and brown-tinged light of the streets. Looking around, he saw a woman dripping with self-confidence in the way she stood and looked, tusks protruding from her lower lip in an entirely unhuman way. Tusks didn't bother him, but that level of self-assuredness did. She stuck out like a bent feather in this city full of skulkers.

Miklos was one suck skulker, but he straightened up slightly and greeted her with, "I was told to meet you here?"

[Qamra Kalara]

The man who ducked into the little yard was not far behind Qamra in terms of time. She'd not noticed him before, which perhaps meant he'd taken a different route than she had. Idle thought, and one tucked away for later use. She gave him a long look up and down, neither aiming for intimidation or trying to hide her appraisal. He was one more recruit in a long line of 'em, for different purposes and different employers, but similar all the same. Meat for the grinder. And this one looked to be rotten meat in a city full of it, lacking even the basic masculinity that'd keep his head up and shoulders back. He moved like a thief, like some podgy runner with the guard on his tail, and that was a type Qamra'd never done good with at the start. Still, she mused, if he was her task to bring to heel, she'd see to his rehabilitation however she could.

First things came first though -- she'd orders to fetch him back to their hideout to introduce him to the rest of their team, and though she'd little reason to respect those others, at least in the hierarchy in her head that set the spirits up high, she wasn't about to disobey orders. That was a lesson she'd never quite been able to throw off, though she'd found plenty of wriggle room to kick up her heels at Martialis. He wasn't there. Paragon was.

"Name," she said, plenty bored with the prospects lining up for the rest of the evening, and not afraid to say it. Still, best make sure this was the man she'd been sent to pick up, and not some . . . she shrugged her shoulders back, not sure how to continue that thought. For or against, that was the best she could do. This one'd better be for, because Qamra had no qualms about silencing those against her and her chosen purpose.

[Miklos]

He eyed the woman warily - not that he'd been expecting to deal with the cream of the crop or the top dog, but this woman was unnerving in a way that Mik didn't like. "Miklos," he offered. "Miklos Ralander, formerly of the City Guard." The 'formerly' was said in a way that practically dripped resentment, and when he said 'City Guard' he might as well have screamed that he hated them. Subtle, when it came to matters of the Guard, Miklos was not.

"Who're you?" He asked boldly, a bit uncharacteristically. But this woman was making him nervous - that much self-confidence in a woman, especially one who looked like that, was something Miklos was unaccustomed to.

He didn't even know what he was getting himself into, not really. He'd been told by a friend that there was someone, an organization, that wanted the Guard brought down too. Or something like that - they were aimed more at the anti-magic aspect of Marn, if he'd understood correctly, but Miklos didn't care too much about magic one way or the other. But the Guard... and especially that Masello... the Guard he cared about. The Guard he wanted to see burn.

[Qamra Kalara]

Spunk was not as boring. It was promising, and even if it wasn't quite what Qamra wanted, it would do well enough. "Ma'am," she said, lips curling up in a smile that, while filled with humor, was nonetheless not quite friendly. "Doctore." The second one made her snort to herself; a personal joke she obviously wasn't willing to share with him. "Three would kill me," she muttered under her breath. Her eyes were sharp as she watched Miklos through it all. A man's measure was easy to take, but being proper it took some time. He wasn't her type, not on the sands or between the sheets. Given a choice, she wouldn't have given him a second look on the street. He probably wouldn't have registered at all. He was the type of man she'd hold no qualms about killing, and would feel no guilt over.

"You know how to stand up straight?" She was smiling at him in a perfectly perfunctory fashion, besides the teeth that didn't quite fit in her mouth and the possessive way she looked at him. "'Cause if you can't, I'll be calling you Cur."

[Miklos]

Miklos scowled darkly as he straightened. If the leaders of the rebellion wanted to win more recruits over to their cause, why send this bitch out to interact... or let her out at all? She was clearly capable but also clearly a gnomish contraption one loose bolt away from destroying everything.

"No need t'call me anythin' but m'name," he growled at her. A flicker of wings out of the corner of his eyes showed him Iskra looking at him. She cawed harshly and Miklos looked up to see Ylli twisting in a tight figure eight above the narrow opening and Miklos felt his eyes narrow almost involuntarily.

"We oughta move," he said, darting a glance at the tusky woman. "Ma'am," he added belatedly with a bit of a mocking twist to his mouth. "Guards are on their way." Probably nothing to do with them, of course - they hadn't even said anything moderately treasonous - but Miklos didn't want to be found by the guards. He didn't want anything to do with the guards until it was time. And then that Masello was all his.

[Qamra Kalara]

Qamra grinned cheerful approval towards Miklos. "You'll have to tell me how you came about that information," she said, even as she brushed past him back the way they'd come. "If it's the wrong sort of answer, I'll fashion myself a necklace from what parts of you please me -- but nevermind that, I'll take you to your new favorite place."

She disappeared back into the darkness of the building without waiting for him, not liking his words. Guards didn't come often into the ruins. When they did, it was for very specific reasons, either to cut someone off at the knees who'd gotten too big for themselves, or to remind some of the greasier slumlords about the order of things. For the most part, there was a balance between the criminals in the historic district and the guardsmen who were assigned it. That didn't mean the relationship was peaceful, or a happy one. Qamra especially didn't like it given that they were in a neutral place, one that didn't get stormed by guards -- no reason to, really -- and that made her plenty suspicious of her new pup.

[Miklos]

He followed her warily, looking once more up at the narrow opening of sky. He saw a flicker of wing as Ylli passed over and wished it was the white gyrfalcon on his shoulder. Iskra the raven was wonderful and smart and could tear a man's eyes out with her claws if she wished, but the falcon was much more imposing. And close to his heart, he'd admit that freely. Humans would give you up for money in an instant but the birds were as loyal as hunting dogs.

And he probably would tell the tusky woman how he learned about the guards. His birds were one of the most useful things about him, he'd been told. Sure, he was a competent enough fighter and could hold his own with most others, but the birds were messengers, lookouts, guards, and almost completely unobtrusive, especially the ravens. Seeing a man with a sword outside a supposedly inconspicuous place was a bit odd, but birds were everywhere. Even the stupid sparrows knew the "guard" command, though the were rather flighty and he didn't trust their attention to hold for longer than about half an hour. They were very good at "follow" and "find," though, because those were interesting and like games.

He dodged around a few people as she led him through some of the nastier areas of town and headed for the Industrial District. Of course it was in a warehouse. Where else did people go in an out of regularly enough that it would be unobtrusive... besides a bar, which would have been preferable. Then at least he could have gotten a drink. He darted another glance at the sky and saw that Ylli was gliding along slowly, and as they neared one particular warehouse she drifted down to land on it. Fluffing her wings, she took the appearance of one who was prepared to wait a long time, and Miklos smiled briefly. It was good to know that even though this tusky bitch would kill him in an instant (and quite graphically too), he at least had someone watching his back. Iskra cawed hoarsely as they came up to the door and Miklos shushed her with a look. No need to draw more attention than was necessary.

[Qamra Kalara]

Reward should be given to those capable of following instructions in silence. Even if Miklos hadn't told Qamra how he'd known about the guards, it was something that he might prefer to tell Three. Qamra could respect that. Still, she had been pushed into a slightly-favorable regard of the man as they'd made their long, circuitous way from the Historical District into the Industrial. Either way, she'd be watching him, and judging him until she was sure he could be trusted. After that, it wasn't her problem. He'd be Three's problem, and she could go back to ensuring Sebastian had what he needed to bring down the Guard.

And back to her beloved spirits, of course. They were useful for gathering information, and the more time she could spend with them instead of the irritating embodiments of waste of space that was the majority of sentient life, the better.

She escorted Miklos inside, calling out to the seemingly-empty warehouse: "Got us a hot one, my beauties. Come look at our fresh-faced pup, see how eager he is to be part of the team."

[Three]

Three was having an excellent day. The tension in his shoulders hadn't quite crept up his neck into his head, which was good. Kala and Sebastian weren't being incompetent. All in all, pretty encouraging in spite of another day working with the enemy of his enemy which was also an enemy. Quit thinking about that. Positivity was hard to come up with around here. He had to keep the high as long as possible. Sebastian: relatively capable, will probably sit in his position until the Seal breaks or he catches an unlucky sip of dirty wine. Kala: smart, has potential. Needs to work on focus, that will get her a front-row seat to the ditch; still, she's a charming young woman. Listen to me, giving compliments. Good thing I'm not talking to myself. Kala, she does that. Weird, but tolerable.

Then, as if on cue, Qamra. Lovely. And even better, she brought a recruit! How he loved seeing new blood. Training new kids not to fuck up is my favorite part of this job. "Hello, Qamra," Three said with a touch less malice than normal. The woman was disgusting, but so was everything in its own right. "What's this?" He wasn't in the mood to be confrontational, but he put up his best effort. "Don't barge in here like that." Was that overly cautious? Probably. Was there cause to be? Definitely.

[Sebastian Morylin]

Wearing his full armor, save the helmet he carried under his arm, Sebastian followed Qamra and another man into the warehouse.

"Qamra..." he was about to advise her that shouting within a metal structure known for carrying an echo might not be the wisest choice, but Three beat him to the punch. It was probably better that way. Three could attempt to scold her.

He stood perfectly rigid during the exchange.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but we have twenty minutes before the next shift change. So I would suggest that we avoid the front entrance and maintain indoor voices until they have finished their sweep of this block."

[Miklos]

Indoor voices? What were they, children? Looking around at the motley group, Miklos almost couldn't contain a raised eyebrow. This was the great Rebellion that he had been told about? Granted, he'd heard about it in a bar... and there'd been alcohol... but this still seemed wildly unorganized. And in a damn warehouse, at that.

Avoiding the guard sounded like a good idea though. Miklos nodded, not that he'd said anything with a raised voice. Or anything at all, come to that. This was a strange group. He'd followed Qamra awkwardly into the warehouse, Iskra shifting on his arm. The crow wasn't too fond of indoors, but she was better suited to it than one of the falcons Miklos kept around. A sparrow would be better, but the sparrows were flighty and distractible at their best and prone to cheeping madly when they panicked. Miklos was going for a good impression, so the sparrows were out.

The way Qamra said team was disturbing. Made it sound like some sort of joke, which didn't really help the aura of disdain a these people seemed to have for each other. What the hell kind of Rebellion were they expecting to throw, one that collapsed from inside? Trying, but not too hard, to hide his skepticism, Miklos nodded at the others and introduced himself quietly. "Miklos Ralander, formerly of the Guard."

[Qamra Kalara]

"Hah!" Qamra's voice was louder still. Her thoughts matched the words she spoke, each and every one: "Why else do you think I let myself sleep in this place of work and stink, heh? I bring whores to fuck in the small space that houses my pathetic excuse for a bed, and I sing when I am alone. They are used to noise and voices from this place! I have made very sure of that, rest assured, so they will think nothing of hearing my sweet catcalls when the other workers have all seen themselves home to their own squalid lives. But I do so always appreciate the concern, fellow Sebastian!" She winked broadly at the guard in question, turning sideways to accommodate him even as she reached past him to tug the door shut. "I am telling you, we are well known together, and they think me nothing more than pig filth not worth their time."

She patted Sebastian on the back as she retracted her hand from the door handle, fisting it to bump the back of Miklos' shoulder as she strode down one of the narrow paths amidst the constantly changing goods that lined the interior. "The kid there was real sharp, warning me about some guard activity deep in the Teeth." The Teeth being, of course, the part of the historical district where the buildings were so old and decrepit that they poked up from their foundations like mangled, broken teeth. The area had several names depending on where you were from and who you talked to, but given Qamra's own dental catastrophe she had rather liked the nomenclature, and had since referred to it thus.

[Three]

"Wonderful," Three said, buying a second for his mind to churn over what she had said and to take in the newcomer more fully. Birds. Gruff. Chip on his shoulder. Three's brow furrowed a bit in contemplation, covering his thought further with meaningless words. "What do you propose we do with him, Qamra? We don't have a medal of bravery, we're fresh out." Thankfully, he had finished thinking while he was talking, so he would actually listen to Qamra's response, contrary to plan.

Three leaned forward and threaded his fingers together, eyes closed and elbows resting on the table. The headache was threatening to spread up to his head. Pain forced his head down to rest on his intertwined fingers.

[Qamra Kalara]

"Isn't that your job? I picked him up as I was ordered, but I'm not the one with the plans. They must have sent him to us for a reason. Haven't you been complaining that we needed easier communications? Didn't you say something about fixing our lack of -- ahh, what did you call it -- was it outside information?" She stopped walking before she could pass Three, looking back doubtfully at the man she had acquired. "He doesn't look like much though, does he?"

She didn't bother to lower her voice, of course. That was not her way.