718 Vhalar 55, continued from here...
They moved through the streets, the three of them, one after the other after the other. It wasn’t difficult for each to follow their mark – after all, so many who wandered alleys of Lair were directionless at best. Though lost for a moment behind a twist or a turn, one needed only search for purposeful movement, for calm order within the wild chaos.
For some time, he trailed behind the flaxen hair woman, not because he wished to hide himself, but rather the child she stalked after simply had not given him an opportunity to approach her. He wanted to ask her questions – specifically about the boy but the rumours as well, in a more general sense. So intently did she follow, he had no doubt interrupting her in the middle of her pursuit would yield him no useful answers.
So, he remained at a distance.
The longer the trio walked, the quieter the streets became. Fewer and fewer bodies leaned against fences and outcroppings, hollering at one another and any who might listen or seemed to listen. The music faded. The air, however marginally, freshened. The woman spotted him.
Though he wasn’t certain what it was exactly he expected in the moment her piercing sea-green gaze met level with his own bright and curious grey, the overly friendly smile she offered had certainly not crossed his mind. He didn’t have any idea what the proper response should be, so, rather than mirroring her expression as he usually would have done in uncertain circumstances, he frowned.
She glanced back toward the diminutive, receding figure of the child. Back to him. Back to the child. There was an almost audible sigh of frustration from the movement of her shoulders alone. Then, without looking back for the third time, she waved a hand, gesturing he hurry up and join her as she started off; the boy had already turned the corner, and there was no telling where he might go next.
Mads quickened his pace.
Right and left and left again, it wasn’t until a solid seven bits had passed before he finally fell into muted step beside her – and even then, they shared no words as they followed the child in mutual silence.
The ruddy glow of the bloodlights held steady and soft, the night dark where the light did not reach. Though the vile merriment of the Quarter of Sins could be heard in the same way one might recall a distant memory, the only true sounds were those of their footsteps, muffled by the intentional desire to pass over the cobbles unnoticed. Or, that had been the hope before the child paused mid-step and turned to stare at them with wide, questioning eyes.
Without hesitation, the flaxen-haired young woman playfully bumped Mads with her hip, eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite place – somewhere between fear and flirtatiousness.
“I think we scared him!” She giggled out, voice surprisingly soft and gentle given the prior intensity of her eyes only trills before.
No reason not to play along, Mads lit up his own face with an expression he’d seen others wear many, many times before: a soft smile, a crinkle of the eyes, and an easiness of posture. “Sorry, mate!” His own voice matching the ease and accent of the woman who had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and begun to playfully bat at his ear.
The boy blinked. Slowly. Then with a nod, he turned and started off down the street again.
For a bit, they continued as they were, their pace dramatically slowed. He could feel the heat of the woman’s hand gripping his hip. It was uncomfortable and the moment she finally released him, he let out an audible sigh of relief through his nose.
“Fuck.”
They were alone. After the boy had realized they had been behind him, he had disappeared down an alley while they passed on – the woman pulling Mads after her, shaking her head. Whatever her reasons, there had been a distinct air of dread as she’d glanced down the darkened, crooked way the boy had chosen. Now, however, her vim and vigour and returned to her.
“You.” An accusing finger pressed into his chest as she rounded on him, a good half a head taller and quite definitely his match or greater in musculature. “Why’re you following me?” Her voice had taken on a brasher, brassier tone, but where Mads expected there to be anger or frustration, there was mostly cautious curiosity – though both prior were still present enough in her fiery gaze.
In his own natural, quiet and casual way, Mads replied, brows raised just slightly in an expression of innocence. It was so exhausting emulating emotion. “I merely wanted to inquire-“
“Inquire? You’re a noble?” She seemed caught between a sneer and genuine amusement.
“What?” He blinked three times in rapid succession, his expression returning to blank emotionlessness. “No.”
“Then why d’you- no. Doesn’t matter. Tell me what you’re doing.” With a flick of her wrist, she drew a small but wicked looking blade out of somewhere behind her, much to Mads’ passing surprise. He hadn’t seen any sign of it during the past break. “Now.” Though she didn’t outright threaten him, the knife danced between her fingers, menacingly glinting in the crimson half-light of the shadowed alley where they’d stopped for the time being.
“I wanted to ask you some questions.” He tried a more nervous, harmless lilt to his words, purposefully taking a slight step back and raised his empty hands set palms forward in what he imagined would have been hesitation had he felt anything but the soft, cool whisper of his spark.
“Why?” The knife stilled.
“Well, for starters, who was that child?” He let it hands lower as the woman’s stance took on a less aggressive overtone.
“More like what…” She muttered.
“Excuse me?”
Her bottom lip, full and wide, gave way to teeth that thoughtfully massaged its soft flesh. “You’ve heard the rumours, yeah?” He nodded, there was no need for elucidation. The city was abuzz. “Right, well. That… ‘boy’. I think he’s one of them.”
Several trills passed as he stared at her, face unmoving but bright eyes filled with an analytical light. He wasn’t certain she was telling the truth, but he couldn’t deny that the child’s – if that were indeed truly what it was – behaviours had been odd, at best. “So, you… followed it alone?”
The woman’s shoulders rose and fell, knife now comfortably hanging from between her thumb and forefinger. “I can take care of myself.”
“Then should we not continue to pursue it?” He had debated urgency in his intentionally curious tone but had opted to leave it out in the end.
“I was ‘pursuing’ it before you-“
“Yes, well, that was then; this is now.”
Her turn to blink in both surprise and consideration, the woman’s bottom lip once more disappeared into her mouth as she thoughtfully chewed. Pulling it from the grip of her teeth with a sharp fwuhk, she nodded. “Can we even catch up?”
“I do not know.” Taking a step back, he gestured back toward the way they’d come – the by-way the boy had taken earlier clearly defined by its darkness. “But the longer we wait, the greater our chance of failure to find him.”
“Sure. Yeah.” As she stepped past him, the knife disappeared once again. There was no scent of ether in the air, no indication of magic, but as he fell into pace just a step behind her, he could see no trace of where the thing had gone.
“My name is Mathias, by the way.” It had been rude of him not to introduce himself earlier – something he considered in not his own voice but that of the Madam Graciana Moreno’s. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, though the circumstances are somewhat grim.”
Her head turned, tousled locks shifting just barely, and her face was awash with what seemed to be amusement, though when she spoke her voice suggested something a little more akin to ribbing. “And a pleasure t’meet you, Mathias.” As she turned to face the path ahead, she offered a dismissive but friendly enough, “I’m Edite.”
Though etiquette would have normally prompted him to repeat her name in some clever fashion, the opportunity found itself lost in Edite’s sudden, sharp inhale.
“Shit!” Her voice had fallen to little more than a soft hiss as she glanced his way again, a finger over her lips to signal he mute himself as well, as if her sudden drop in volume was not clue enough.
As he joined her, it was made apparent what it was that had given her pause. Far, far, at the end of the alley, through the mix of shadows and ruby lights, he could just make out the small, familiar silhouette of a child. He turned back to face Edite with an intentional frown. “Well, that is certainly… peculiar.”
With a wide grin, courage clearly worn thick over her true veneer of apprehension, Edite started forward, picking her steps carefully. “Let’s go see just how ‘peculiar’ the little bastard is then, yeah?”
They moved through the streets, the three of them, one after the other after the other. It wasn’t difficult for each to follow their mark – after all, so many who wandered alleys of Lair were directionless at best. Though lost for a moment behind a twist or a turn, one needed only search for purposeful movement, for calm order within the wild chaos.
For some time, he trailed behind the flaxen hair woman, not because he wished to hide himself, but rather the child she stalked after simply had not given him an opportunity to approach her. He wanted to ask her questions – specifically about the boy but the rumours as well, in a more general sense. So intently did she follow, he had no doubt interrupting her in the middle of her pursuit would yield him no useful answers.
So, he remained at a distance.
The longer the trio walked, the quieter the streets became. Fewer and fewer bodies leaned against fences and outcroppings, hollering at one another and any who might listen or seemed to listen. The music faded. The air, however marginally, freshened. The woman spotted him.
Though he wasn’t certain what it was exactly he expected in the moment her piercing sea-green gaze met level with his own bright and curious grey, the overly friendly smile she offered had certainly not crossed his mind. He didn’t have any idea what the proper response should be, so, rather than mirroring her expression as he usually would have done in uncertain circumstances, he frowned.
She glanced back toward the diminutive, receding figure of the child. Back to him. Back to the child. There was an almost audible sigh of frustration from the movement of her shoulders alone. Then, without looking back for the third time, she waved a hand, gesturing he hurry up and join her as she started off; the boy had already turned the corner, and there was no telling where he might go next.
Mads quickened his pace.
Right and left and left again, it wasn’t until a solid seven bits had passed before he finally fell into muted step beside her – and even then, they shared no words as they followed the child in mutual silence.
The ruddy glow of the bloodlights held steady and soft, the night dark where the light did not reach. Though the vile merriment of the Quarter of Sins could be heard in the same way one might recall a distant memory, the only true sounds were those of their footsteps, muffled by the intentional desire to pass over the cobbles unnoticed. Or, that had been the hope before the child paused mid-step and turned to stare at them with wide, questioning eyes.
Without hesitation, the flaxen-haired young woman playfully bumped Mads with her hip, eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite place – somewhere between fear and flirtatiousness.
“I think we scared him!” She giggled out, voice surprisingly soft and gentle given the prior intensity of her eyes only trills before.
No reason not to play along, Mads lit up his own face with an expression he’d seen others wear many, many times before: a soft smile, a crinkle of the eyes, and an easiness of posture. “Sorry, mate!” His own voice matching the ease and accent of the woman who had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and begun to playfully bat at his ear.
The boy blinked. Slowly. Then with a nod, he turned and started off down the street again.
For a bit, they continued as they were, their pace dramatically slowed. He could feel the heat of the woman’s hand gripping his hip. It was uncomfortable and the moment she finally released him, he let out an audible sigh of relief through his nose.
“Fuck.”
They were alone. After the boy had realized they had been behind him, he had disappeared down an alley while they passed on – the woman pulling Mads after her, shaking her head. Whatever her reasons, there had been a distinct air of dread as she’d glanced down the darkened, crooked way the boy had chosen. Now, however, her vim and vigour and returned to her.
“You.” An accusing finger pressed into his chest as she rounded on him, a good half a head taller and quite definitely his match or greater in musculature. “Why’re you following me?” Her voice had taken on a brasher, brassier tone, but where Mads expected there to be anger or frustration, there was mostly cautious curiosity – though both prior were still present enough in her fiery gaze.
In his own natural, quiet and casual way, Mads replied, brows raised just slightly in an expression of innocence. It was so exhausting emulating emotion. “I merely wanted to inquire-“
“Inquire? You’re a noble?” She seemed caught between a sneer and genuine amusement.
“What?” He blinked three times in rapid succession, his expression returning to blank emotionlessness. “No.”
“Then why d’you- no. Doesn’t matter. Tell me what you’re doing.” With a flick of her wrist, she drew a small but wicked looking blade out of somewhere behind her, much to Mads’ passing surprise. He hadn’t seen any sign of it during the past break. “Now.” Though she didn’t outright threaten him, the knife danced between her fingers, menacingly glinting in the crimson half-light of the shadowed alley where they’d stopped for the time being.
“I wanted to ask you some questions.” He tried a more nervous, harmless lilt to his words, purposefully taking a slight step back and raised his empty hands set palms forward in what he imagined would have been hesitation had he felt anything but the soft, cool whisper of his spark.
“Why?” The knife stilled.
“Well, for starters, who was that child?” He let it hands lower as the woman’s stance took on a less aggressive overtone.
“More like what…” She muttered.
“Excuse me?”
Her bottom lip, full and wide, gave way to teeth that thoughtfully massaged its soft flesh. “You’ve heard the rumours, yeah?” He nodded, there was no need for elucidation. The city was abuzz. “Right, well. That… ‘boy’. I think he’s one of them.”
Several trills passed as he stared at her, face unmoving but bright eyes filled with an analytical light. He wasn’t certain she was telling the truth, but he couldn’t deny that the child’s – if that were indeed truly what it was – behaviours had been odd, at best. “So, you… followed it alone?”
The woman’s shoulders rose and fell, knife now comfortably hanging from between her thumb and forefinger. “I can take care of myself.”
“Then should we not continue to pursue it?” He had debated urgency in his intentionally curious tone but had opted to leave it out in the end.
“I was ‘pursuing’ it before you-“
“Yes, well, that was then; this is now.”
Her turn to blink in both surprise and consideration, the woman’s bottom lip once more disappeared into her mouth as she thoughtfully chewed. Pulling it from the grip of her teeth with a sharp fwuhk, she nodded. “Can we even catch up?”
“I do not know.” Taking a step back, he gestured back toward the way they’d come – the by-way the boy had taken earlier clearly defined by its darkness. “But the longer we wait, the greater our chance of failure to find him.”
“Sure. Yeah.” As she stepped past him, the knife disappeared once again. There was no scent of ether in the air, no indication of magic, but as he fell into pace just a step behind her, he could see no trace of where the thing had gone.
“My name is Mathias, by the way.” It had been rude of him not to introduce himself earlier – something he considered in not his own voice but that of the Madam Graciana Moreno’s. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, though the circumstances are somewhat grim.”
Her head turned, tousled locks shifting just barely, and her face was awash with what seemed to be amusement, though when she spoke her voice suggested something a little more akin to ribbing. “And a pleasure t’meet you, Mathias.” As she turned to face the path ahead, she offered a dismissive but friendly enough, “I’m Edite.”
Though etiquette would have normally prompted him to repeat her name in some clever fashion, the opportunity found itself lost in Edite’s sudden, sharp inhale.
“Shit!” Her voice had fallen to little more than a soft hiss as she glanced his way again, a finger over her lips to signal he mute himself as well, as if her sudden drop in volume was not clue enough.
As he joined her, it was made apparent what it was that had given her pause. Far, far, at the end of the alley, through the mix of shadows and ruby lights, he could just make out the small, familiar silhouette of a child. He turned back to face Edite with an intentional frown. “Well, that is certainly… peculiar.”
With a wide grin, courage clearly worn thick over her true veneer of apprehension, Edite started forward, picking her steps carefully. “Let’s go see just how ‘peculiar’ the little bastard is then, yeah?”
