• Mature • Well, Here We All Are...

[Kasoria]

The girl had been right, of course. He'd missed this work. Not just the challenge it represented, but the little details that all added up to a success. Any street daemon from the Oh'Pee could be handy with a blade; many of them survived to be deadly. But it was the one in a hundred, that mastered not just blades or fists but the mind to navigate a city, find its secret ways and places, track and observe, blackmail and torture and interrogate and put together the threads of a dozen informants and sources... and then show his quality with a blade. That man, he was valuable. He could be unleashed with but a name and a vague location, and sure as Vri himself, would find that name.

Raggedy Man. You didn't become a legend through sword work alone, old boy. It was more than that.

A pair of feet came tramping along the stone cobbles and he went about shaking his little bowl like a good derelict. He didn't risk looking up out from the hood of his cloak; even in this shadowed alley in the dead of night. His mutations... they were the bane of this kind of work now. Too distinctive, too... flamboyant. He had to wear an extra layer under his cloak, just to hide the telltale blur of that roving Transmutation Spark under his skin. It rarely moved across his face, giving the game away entirely, but still...

Be worth having it tonight.

A couple of coins tinkled into the bowl, and he murmured his thanks in the slurred tones of drunkards the world over. He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he let the words dribble and grind from his lips. Even that little deception took him back. Fates, but he was getting nostalgic in his old age.

But not sloppy, or distracted. Tonight was the big one.

For the last two nights, he'd been staking out The Flying Moon. The streets and alleys surrounding it, not just the tavern. He'd only been inside the once, to survey the layout of the bottom floor and burn it into his brain over a few breaks of watching and drinking. The rest of the time, he slunk from one shadow to another, alley to street, making use of what sparse cover he could. This was the Glass Quarter, after all, not those of Earth and Dust. The streets were well-lit, for the fancy folk feared the darkness. He'd only stayed put with his begging bowl for a little while each time, ears alert for patrols... of which there had been many.

He'd stayed off the street, after the first night. Preferred the alley to the west, and the one running right behind the tavern itself.

That's where he'd got his idea. But before he put it into practice, he needed to be there. In that alley. To... feel it out, as it were. More importantly, he was waiting for-

More footsteps, but even as he started shaking his bowl, coins jingling merrily inside, he stopped. His ears pricked and his head cocked to one side. Ah... that tread... he knew it very well. He waited until the swift, relentless stride was in front of him before he dared look up. One eye shining like starless midnight up out of his hood. Lips curling into an amused smirk, showing off yellow and white to the woman looking down at him.

"Spare sum change fer a poor soul on'is las' coppah, miss..." he voice changed in the space of a breath, from the mangled drunkard miming to his usual harsh tones, words accented but tight. "Or would yeh prefer t'tell me what yeh found out?"

[Max]

"My dear!" Meera, the Innkeeper of The Flying Moon, exclaimed with a beaming smile. "It is so refreshing to see young people with manners!"

"Sure, sure," Maxine forced a smile in return. She adjusted the stack of folded linens in her arms, having saved them before they fell from Meera's arms to the floor. "Guess I was just...raised right."

The elderly inn owner didn't catch the discomfort Maxine felt in that ridiculous lie, but it made the Rusalka nearly squirm inside. Max followed Meera from the laundry, through the tavern, toward the stairs.

"Up we go!" Meera hummed, her age hardly slowing her as she moved one step up at a time. "You already saw the tavern where we serve our famous Moony. Our other floors are grand. Each room has a lovely bed with a feather-stuffed mattress, a full bath, desk, fireplace, and furniture. We pride ourselves on providing a luxurious experience for our guests."

"What about the last floor where we're going?"

"You're in for a treat! This--" Meera huffed and pushed open the suite door when they reached the fourth floor. "--Is our Moon Suite!"

Max gave a little whistle as she followed Meera inside the inn's best room. It was beautiful. All the other furniture and amenities were present that the innkeeper described in the rooms below, and the scheme was a gorgeous navy and silver befitting a quiet twilight. While the living space was appreciable it wasn't much compared to the ceiling. Above there was a large, circular window carved out of the roof. Above, daylight shined through the glass.

"At night you can see the moon and every star in the sky right from your bed. It's like sleeping in nature...except, you're without the cold, the bugs, and the dirt of course. It's our most expensive, luxurious room for a reason. Here, can you hand me those, dear?"

The Rusalka handed the linens over to Meera once she'd stripped the Moon Suite bed. She expertly got to changing the sheets, smoothing the fabric and laying each layer precisely. Max watched her as she fluffed the pillows, meandering innocently around the room.

"Where'd you say you were traveling from, dear?"

"Oh, I didn't."

"Your accent tells me you're no Rharnian."

"Well, I'm not from much of anywhere. I've moved around my whole life for one reason or another. Everywhere I go someone tells me I have an accent."

"Hm. I meet people from all over Idalos and I must agree yours is hard to place! How long will you be staying?"

"Not long. I have other arrangements. I just heard so much about the Moony. They say you drug it."

"Hehe, a dirty rumor, I assure you! Though it is addicting!"

"I'll be the judge."

"This old woman appreciates a generous, helping hand. It's rare in the youth these trials. You give me hope. You tell Brennen I said you've more than earned a Moony on us."

Maxine helped Meera clean the Moon Suite up a bit, tidying it to prepare for the guest that she mentioned would rent it fresh that night. She carried the dirty laundry back down for the old innkeeper and Brennen had a Moony ready by the time the Rusalka reappeared. Max offered a real, genuine smile at the sight of that. She eased into a seat at the bar and quietly indulged.

The Moony was as good as it was rumored to be. She wasn't sure if it was drugged or not, but there was no denying how easy it was to desire another. She nestled into her place at the bar. She asked little of Brennen but reciprocated his harmless flirting enough to keep him from paying much mind to how long she stayed. She commiserated with Ginny when the waitress wandered over to pick her drinks up from the bar, lamenting about how much her feet hurt from so much time on her feet. She was no regular but she made herself belong.

The Rusalka was well-established when her mark entered about a break later when the sunlight vanished. The table of local kings gathered, filling their table one-by-one with a trusted guard or two at their hip. Drinks started to pour. Food was placed on their table. She waited until she heard "Venger", and didn't snap her head to the sound of the name. She followed the man in her peripheral as he came down the stairs, the mysterious new guest of the Moon Suite, buttoning the front of his coat while his peers announced his arrival with jibes.

"Hey," the man sitting two seats down from Max said suddenly. She thought nothing of it at first, until she felt the eyes hot on her and realized she was the one being addressed. "Do I know you?"

Fuck.

"Don't think so, friend," Maxine required with a quick glance and a shrug. She watched the Venger out of the corner of her eye as he took his seat.

"No, I definitely know you."

Why. Why now?

"I've seen you somewhere before."

Shut the fuck up, you stupid bastard.

"Where do I know you from?"

The Rusalka restrained herself and pressed her lips into a hard line. The immediate responses that came to mind were neither kind or subtle. She adjusted her jaw and thought to turn to face him in her chair. That's when she spied the boots under the table.

Son of a bitch.

Her eyes moved back to his perplexed, narrow-eyed expression.

Lightning Knight.

Maxine finished what was left of her Moony. She pushed the cup across the counter toward Brennen, and grinned at the off-duty.

"Sorry, I guess I just have one of those faces."

"I don't think so..."

"You have a great night, yeah?"

It was hard to make that parting line anything but sarcastic. Somehow she managed it and made a not-too-hasty exit. She could feel the hairs on her neck standing. The cool breeze of the night outside the nice establishment relaxed her anxiety a little. She moved toward the alleyway, toward the sound of a jangling cup.

"Spare sum change fer a poor soul on'is las' coppah, miss...Or would yeh prefer t'tell me what yeh found out?"

Maxine couldn't help but smirk at the familiar ploy. He always wore it well, this role. There was a reason he made it somewhat of a staple in his strategies, and why she'd stolen the same tactic in her own endeavors in Etzos. It was compelling with the right look. He had it, even with the extra measures he took to his his strengths. She leaned into the shadows and glanced toward the door, ensuring it wasn't opening to reveal a far-too-curious Lightning Knight searching the dark. In a blink she'd ask the shadows to conceal her if need be.

"Four floors," she gave her report. "First is the tavern. It's filling, and Venger is at a table right in the middle of it. He's got three of his caliber joining him with a pair of their own men each. Couple wallflowers I don't like the look of. Off duty Lightning Knight sitting at the bar of course, too."

Her hand dropped into her pocket. Out of habit it began to fish for something, until she remembered her current company.

Not here. Not now.

Her nerves burned.

After.

"Second and third floor are all rooms. There's a good bit of them, all well furnished. Fourth floor is the Moon Suite. Venger is renting it. It's huge with a window on the ceiling for stargazing. It's probably our best play." She folded her arms. "Getting anywhere near that room straight on won't be easy."

[Kasoria]

It was good seeing her smile. That knowing half-smirk that she couldn't quite keep the affection from. The thought came to him unwanted, and he mused for a heartbeat what had brought it on. Not what; more like when. Back when she was in awe of him, learning at his feet and by his knuckles, Fates... twelve arcs ago. They'd shared many a smile like that. When she'd mastered some new trick or technique he'd been teaching her. Impressed him with her quick wits and sheer, stubborn will. Kasoria looked back on most of his life and saw only the bad, the dark, the regrets and the bodies. But they weren't all bad times.

Jessye. Martyn. Maxine. Those precious handful of good moments... more than a few had her face attached to them. And that smile.

Focus, old man. On the job, aincha?

His smirk faded inch by inch as she laid out what he'd already suspected. Big wheels like Venger didn't roll around alone. They had flunkies and bodyguards and a procession of scum and claimants seeking their favor and fortune. Even in the seediest Dust Quarter dive, this wouldn't have been easy. They'd have needed to carve through ranks of scum to get to him, and by then, if he was any gang lord worth his salt, he'd have the brains to bolt and let the arrow fodder serve their purpose. But here? Where tramping, clanking patrols of Lightning Knights were a regular sight, not an exception? All the harder.

And, of course, there's some of the wankers inside having a pint, too.

But there was more, and he cocked his head a little when she laid out what he'd expected. He knew the dimensions of the building, after all. He'd studied it enough, on their scouting trips over the last few trials. But until she put that last piece in his lap, that he'd been hoping for, it had meant little. Knowing the layout was only half the job; knowing where in the layout to look, was just as important. But Venger, well... he was a big wheel. Big wheels liked the best booze, the tastiest gash, the finest clothes... and the biggest room.

"We wun' get up there through the front door," he said, as if she hadn't worked that out already. "Too many prying eyes an' ready blades. So... guess we'll just start from the top, eh?"

Kasoria waited a few blinks for her expression to change, hopefully in mild confusion, before he set his Spark to working. One hand had been in the open, shaking his little bowl. The other had been out of sight, ungloved hand pressed against the brick behind him, and oh... his Spark had been telling him so much. Whispered and chittered and told him the density, the strength, the age... all the way up to the timbers.

Craft us a way up.

Before Maxine's eyes, she would see the wall seem to ripple and contort, in a three-foot wide strip going all the way up to the fourth floor. Energy was passing through it, without light or glare but this close it was like cloud fusing to the stones. Then most of it seemed to settle... but only most. Kasoria's eyes were closed as he let his Spark see for him. Every two feet from above his seated form, a spur of brick grew out of the wall. Not too long, but long enough for a hand to grip or boot to step. As Maxine looked up, she would see spur after spur come jutting out of the solid wall, as if something were poking a finger through the other side and leaving a gigantic outline on theirs. After a few moments, Kasoria got himself to his feet and gave a wry smile.

"Yeh might hate it, girl, but it's fuckin' useful." Then he turned around and cracked his neck, followed by his knuckles. "Right. Up we go..."

He wasn't much of a climber, per se, but he had other ways to compensate. He was limber and agile for a man his age, able to reach and stretch when he had to. Halfway up the wall, up past the second floor, when other men's fingers would start going numb and their arms ache, his were still unfazed. Maxine would hardly be treated to a fine sight, following him up and staring at his arse, but it wouldn't be a slow journey... other than when it needed to be.

Twice they had to pause. Hearing movement in the alley below. Some drunk taking a slash or random nobody just taking a side-route. Either way, their sharp ears caught it and they stopped. Imitated bizarrely fashioned gargoyles until the movement went away... then started again. Soon Kasoria was peeking over the rim of the fourth floor, the taller central building The Flying Moon was made up of, and to his relief, saw the famous window didn't take up the whole damned roof.

He slung himself over and offered a hand to the girl to help her up. If she gave him so much as a frown he'd just snort back at her.

"Dun' be fuckin' proud, no point knackerin' yerself when yeh don't have to."

Once they were both up top, their caution would not abate. They stayed low, almost crawling on all fours, sticking to shadows and moving slow enough not to attract a glance with a fast flicker of activity. The Flying Moon was tall, but not the tallest in this district. Balconies and windows overlooked them, and Kasoria tried to check as many of them as he could. But this was a city... there was always the chance he'd miss one.

Have to risk it.

"A'right," he said after a few moments, crawling over to the huge, slightly domed window set into the roof, as broad across as an Oh'Pee house and then some. "Lesee if he's shown up..."

[Max]

She watched as the Old Man digested her information. She swore if she cracked his head open right then it would be full of gears and instruments, all turning and whirling in a madness only he could decipher, fueled by the a mission and the desire to problem solve the barriers in his way. It didn't take him long. That was, of course, because he was never an unprepared man. His charade was more than simply blending or earning a space near the target.

He was already executing before the plan had come to full fruition.

Confusion turned to surprise as the wall rippled and contorted at his pleasure. Her eyes followed the trail of bricks popping from the wall. She shook her head at the ingenuity. The wry bastard had manipulated a way straight up to the Moon Suite from the outside. Her quieted anxieties about re-entering a dangerous dance with the Lightning Knight faded. The largest problems could be avoided entirely.

Always one step ahead, aren't you...?

To his point she scoffed and rolled her eyes. She'd been stalked through scrying and jumped through portals. She knew full well the usefulness of the magic she loathed so much. Something always recoiled inside the Rusalka when it appeared. Taking advantage of it didn't mean she dared to ever trust it. Even if it was his.

Kasoria wasted no time turned and starting to scamper up the side of the inn like a man half his age. Maxine stood below, glancing to ensure no one was around and then watching in quiet awe at the swiftness at which he moved.

"Age before beauty I guess," she murmured and shook her head.

Once he had a head start to found her own holds and began her ascent. She couldn't recall scaling anything like this before, but her violent lifestyle and newfound strength thanks to the octopus familiar tattooed to her flesh, she found her grip strength and athleticism more than up for this task. Max followed Kasoria's lead and took his hand when he scolded her for the look that suggested she had a mind to do it her damned self. He yanked her up and the two degenerates were on the roof peering through the famed dome window.

"For the price, I'll bet he shows," Max assured quietly. Her eyes squinted down through the window, finding the lock on the room still engaged from the inside. "But until he does..."

Max had her gladius in her hand and a dagger in the other in an instant. She flipped the dagger over and rested the tip firmly against the glass of the window. Gladius held horizontal, she used the flat edge to gently tap the butt of the dagger. A couple tinkling taps of varying pressure and she finally achieved a small crack in the glass. She looked at the spidering, splintering of the glass and smiled. She put sheathed her weapons again and shrugged.

"Easier to make an entrance when the times comes if we have to, it already having a weak spot and all."

It was good timing. No sooner had she explained herself did the door jiggle and then open with the turn of a key. Venger sauntered into his room. He let his door hang open for a moment while he lingered in the doorway, letting it breathe. He wasn't a young man, but the ganger had a hardened jaw and that look in his eyes the new generation just didn't. It was a look Kasoria would know too well. That shifty gaze took inventory of his surroundings and then the bedroom door slowly closed and locked behind him.

"Right on time," Max murmured almost inaudibly. "This is your game. We come down on his head? Or you got some other trip up that sleeve?"

Venger groaned and shrugged the coat off his shoulders. He shuffled over to the coat hanger and carefully laid his coat over a hook. His fingers guided the coat to a quiet, still hang. Then he took his shoes off and placed them side-by-side beside the coat hanger. Only when the trivial, little things of returning to a familiar place of stay were done did he sit down at the edge of his bed.

Candles around him burning, the ganger exhaled in the welcomed silence. He popped a pre-snipped cigar in his mouth and lit the end, puffing the habit to life until it took. He let the warm tobacco smoke fill his lungs and closed his eyes. He blew it back out, relaxing visibly. For whatever reason, when his eyes opened again and for maybe no apparent reason at all...

...Venger looked toward the sheathed dagger he left on the night stand beside his bed.

[Kasoria]

Wait!

The word was just forming on his tongue before Maxine first tapped the gladius and send a lightning strike of a crack zigzagging across the huge glass window. Not too far, enough to make it weak, just like she'd said. But noticeable. Obvious, even. He'd been so busy checking out the room below them he'd never thought to make sure she wasn't doing something-

"Youse think he won't notice that?"

Kasoria didn't say the word that popped into his head. But he wasn't about to let her off easy.

"Folks come t'this room fer the window. So when 'ee looks up an' sees a huge soddin' crack in it, y'think dat won't tip him off summin's up?"

He shook his head and waved off any answer she might have. Venger just showed up and they couldn't be having a barney ten feet above his head. Both of them shrunk back a little from the edge of the window, watching the man go about his humdrum little tasks. Kasoria convinced that any moment would see him look up and see the crack splitting the window in-

It's less than a foot long, and he looks like he's already had enough roast beef and port to make him halfway to an idiot. No guarantee he'll see.

Kasoria set his jaw and didn't follow the thought through to the end. No. He was not being hard on her. She'd acted rashly and without thinking, going for a quick advantage and foregoing stealth in doing so. That was more important than easy. They had to leave this place without anyone noticing, which meant they had to enter even more quietly. He already had a plan, but her...

"I got a plan," he said without looking at her, splaying out his hand and pressing the tips of his fingers against the glass. "Hope the wanker dun' look up..."

Kasoria set his Spark to work, and did much the same thing. Transmutation ether pulsed into the flawless, transparent screen and all the little details of it were suddenly just living in his mind. The quality of the finish, the thickness, the age, the beach the sand to fist burn and blast it into life had come from... and he ignored most of it. That Spark always was talkative. Instead he focused on spreading his ether through an area of the class in a rough semicircle in front of them. From the edges of it, to about two feet away, towards the center.

Large enough for a person to fit through, once he-

"Once I make the hole, geddown there sharpish an' grab ‘I’m. Not a word from the cunt, he's probably got a couplea' lads outside watchin' the door. We'll handle them after we get big wheel there under a blade."

He spoke as he worked his will upon the section of glass. Splitting it down the middle and rolling back each half of the semicircle, folding up the excess glass into the rest of it. Like he was parting a curtain down the middle and forcing the fabric to either side. His hands glowed as he worked, energy seemed to whip and ripple around him. The glass glowed as it was manipulated, like a second, smaller moon had been dragged down and secured on the ceiling. Within a few trills, the hole had been made. No need to shatter, or break, or make any noise at all.

Not once did Venger so much as glance up.

Kasoria sighed and gave a minute shake of his head.

"Fine. So he didn't notice. Now go!"

He watched her go, watched her work, and shook his head again.

Why even rent the room if yeh ain't gonna look? Incurious cunt...