Closed [The Streets] Oh Snap!

[Fallon]

10th Autumn 514 AV

Fallon wanted an answer. The only issue was finding it in a city that seemed to erupt into chaos the moment she stepped out the door. A scowl was upon her face, the layers brought on around her as she stepped on through the dead corpses that marked the fallen in the path of the rioting mobs. Death hugged the air, the stench of decay apparent as she continued the steady steps on through. Of course, today for her was not the taking of life - least not unless she had to. It was the study of death and to solve the mystery going around in her head, to chase down answers where there seemed to so very few to grasp upon.

Somewhere, in the grime of the city was what she was looking for, the enigma waiting to be solved itching at her very skin. She sighed, her brow creasing as she tried to weigh up and decide what the next move to be made would be. Regardless, she picked her way around the stillness of the city and to the location she had been described. Some back alley gutter, dark, filth, it seemed a scummy place to wind up and die in. Sighing she gave a pace, the squelch of earth beneath her feet, the dank musky smell of some gut rot and alcohol caressing her senses. Lips pursed into a line, her eyes lifting to look across the rotting wooden walls and then down to the ground.

Gloved fingers rubbed her jaw, a small pace of the scene as she looked about. There was the tell tale signs of a struggle here - or more over a recent one. Her eyes gave a narrow, a licking of lips as she weighed up what was before her. She needed to obtain information, gather it, collate it and formulate a better answer. There was a tap upon the wall, a blink as she looked and traced the marks with her finger tips. In honesty she had not looked upon the marks left in combat, she generally was the one making them and fighting for survival in the city - she did not have the time to simply view and attempt to understand.

The leather digit gave a tap, imagining the wild keen edge of a blade that left the groove, and the lifting of it from the surface. Continuing the line, she gave a blink - the dark spray as she paused and gave another tap. Something had been cut and left its clear mark on the walls. Pulling away she gave a tug upon her gloves, and then the scrap of notes from her pocket, a squint at them in the dim light as she tried to read them.

Witness, a scream, a shout, the notes scribbled the nonsense of a distressed woman in a moment of heartbreak and stuttering. It was expected, to say the least - to not react so would have raised some level of suspicion in the mind. Still there was much to do, and so stuffing the notes back into her pocket and pulling off her gloves, Fallon begun her inspection of the scene, "Let's see what the Lykata can find."

[Sh'Ky Naes]

The Man in Crimson

Sh'Ky was confused. The woman had been poking around for about an hour, and hadn't noticed him standing at the end of the alleyway. Tapping her fingers on the dusty wall, she muttered to herself like a lunatic, and Sh'Ky was a bit worried. A strange woman wandering about the scene of a murder, tapping things? He was a bit hesitant to do anything, lest the woman notice him, and possibly murder him too. Moving out of the line of sight, within the alley, he exited, cloak making a ruffling sound, and making an obvious exeunt. Wait, these surroundings looked familiar. Could this be the place where he- Yes, it was. Looking back in time, Sh'Ky remembered what happened here.

----
OOCHey, this is Sh'Ky's memory of what happened in this alleyway. However, it happened years ago, and maybe the Lykata is just getting the strongest impression of events? Because the death of Sh'Ky's lover would be kinda momentous in his life. Of course, this could be what you had planned from the start. Pick the events that put 'Ky in the worst light possible.

A wild flurry of thrusts, with almost no cuts, a knife's blade pierced Rastia's chest, stomach, and shoulders, leaving a vermilion trail through the air. Shocked, all Sh'Ky could do was stare, and fall to his knees, sobbing. Ras' killer left the alleyway, not caring about 'Ky. Leaning her against the wall, Sh'Ky broke out in open tears, trying to frantically bandage her wounds. Rastia, however, smiled weakly, and slapping his hand away gently, with her final breath, gave him one last kiss, bleeding out into the street.

----
Sh'Ky didn't know what the woman in the alley wanted with this place, but he was determined to find out. Wrapping his scarf up tightly around his face and neck, he made sure there was no cloth to be grabbed, if it came to that. Pulling his hat low on his face, and his cloak tight around his shoulders, he cast a mysterious figure, shadows playing across his eyes. His face was all but concealed, his scar the prominent detail that one would notice. Sh'Ky hoped with all his might that this wasn't too much for him to handle.

[Fallon]

Blood. Her eyes gave a flicker glazing over as her bare fingers drifted. A wince of eyelids, her brow creasing slightly as the images picked up and came into focus all to neatly. Pain, there was always pain, the cool grip of death, the dying that was more than just a chill upon the air, a presence that existed in the waking world. No, it had long sunk its way into the earth, the walls, the very fabric of existence and marked this alleyway as a tomb of memory and decay. It bubbled up as a whisper within her mind, the glimmer of a blade edge as her weight shifted and the almost dazed state took the lead. Feeling, plucking, everything had history, a memory, knowledge wrapped deeply within - it was just having the means to access it. A blur of an outline, a shape, and then -

There was movement within the waking world that snapped her attention back to reality rather bluntly. Blinking she gave a flinch, surfacing out of the muted hum rather rapidly. Her hand gave a slap upon the wall, a foot slamming down as she gained her balance. Somewhere beyond there was movement, the shape of a uncertain shape moving away - was someone watching her? She did not get a good look, but the sensation of lingering eyes made itself known. And that was something that did not rest well upon her. If someone could sneak up upon her without her noticing after all, it was never a good sign for her own self security.

On the flip side however, if he was a local he may have been a good source of information on the area and goings on. At least, that was what she mused somewhere in her mind, the other part was washed over neatly that there was the high possibility he was not interested. Regardless, she had a job to still try and do, with information presently being the key aspect of it. Footsteps were forced into movement, a feeling of the weight of her note book within her deep pockets as she stepped. In the meanwhile the gloves were pulled on once more.

"Oi!" she shouted after, the rough tones of her working accent coming forth, "Oi, wait up. You a local lad?" her brow had creased, a lowering of the head as she tried to get a better peering of the face beneath the hat - the meeting of shadow made her only frown further, and the lips pursed into a line. Regardless, she did her best to try and match the stride the best she could, "Any chance you heard what happened in that back alley? Dead prostitute turned up there... yesterday I guess?" Her thumb gave a cock back, "Don't look like that, it's a job. Need the coin to eat like anyone else. Give a lass a hand and I'll leave you alone quicker than a rat up a drain pipe. Fair?"

[Sh'Ky Naes]

The Man in Crimson

The woman's words made Sh'Ky stop and think, considering. Should he speak up, or no? He did know something about the murder, even if he wasn't there at first. But if he allowed his voice to be heard, then the woman would be able to pick him out from a crowd, and target him at a later date. So he decided to stay silent, not saying anything. Giving her a long look with his piercing ice-blue eyes, he shook his head, and began to walk away quickly. Just as he wouldn't get involved in any gang-related fights, he wouldn't get involved in any murder that had an investigator prowling about the alley where a prostitute-turned-informant that had information on some obscured activities.

Roughly turning away from her, the Crimson Man adjusted his scarf, loosening it a bit, so he could breathe, if he needed to run. He knew this area, and apparently this woman didn't, by the way she spoke about that particular alley. Nothing good happened there. Walking faster, he headed south, trying to get to the Tent City, where he could hide without drawing this woman's attention to where he lived. Or maybe he'd just head home, if he could get away successfully.

The hard part was knowing if she'd catch him, it most likely wouldn't endear herself to him. Which, judging by the size of that knife, wouldn't be pleasant.

[Fallon]

"I see, that is a shame" The smallest of frowns, she could barely judge the expression that could be behind the scarf. The eyes seemed to just stare back, mirroring the long look - seriousness, thought, or a momentary consideration if he did indeed know anything. But the answer was little more than silence, a muted look before at last he simply turned away. It was the eyes of investigation that followed after him, a small tilt of the chin, the lids pinching as his gate hurried a long. There was lacking surprise in this, and with it she gave her own private cursing. The average Berther often looked out for themselves and a select few, rarely cooperating with others when there was a set goal to be had. Mindless violence being among them. Her gaze gave a flicker, snapping away to the surrounding buildings - narrowed in, close, oppressive. She shook the feeling away, one last stare to the shoulders as they swayed, "Well, if you hear something or change your mind..."

Fallon let the offer hang in the air, then turned her gaze back to the alleyway once more. Further investigation was to be had, and she doubted the stranger would make any effort to return. Sunberther's protective, subtle, and secretive - she would have to find another way. Chewing her lip she began her probing of the alleyway once more. The imprint of feet, the drag marks, she gave a crouch and pulled open the note book once more this time onto a blank page. Tongue clicked, the ink summoned forth from one of her pockets and popped the cork on it and then dunked the stub of a quill into it. It was then, carefully, that she begun to pull out the black to form a loose diagram of the alleyway and annotate her findings.

"Scuffling around mouth of alleyway, victim was dragged in," She followed them down, quietly counting out the feet to where they stopped. It was gingerly that she continued to move round, squinting as she marked out the richer, red splattering from the others, "First blood here... smears round across the wall then downwards..." She paused and quietly counted out the feet once more - even if it was only an approximation, "where there was further struggling. And then..." even from the angle she could pick out the low, pressing print of the body in the mud - marking where it had fallen and ceased to be, "Death. Times like this that a ghost is needed to interrogate. Petching Bull Shyke."

[Sh'Ky Naes]

The woman surprised Sh'Ky by breaking off, frowning, and heading back to the alleyway to investigate. Walking a few more steps, he turned back, confused. Anyone who would've investigated the murder in the first place, he hadn't expected that kind of person to give up so easily. Not that this wasn't welcome, but... it unnerved 'Ky. He had her pegged as the sort that was like a dog with a bone, chasing after what she wanted, never giving up, incessantly fighting for what she believed in. And so, he did quite possibly the dumbest thing he could've in this situation. After the woman was fully in the alleyway, presumably engrossed in her investigation, he headed back.

Across the street from where the alley was, he saw the woman poking around, scribbling in her notebook like some... Zeltivan, obsessed with words. However, where she came from was none of his concern, just what she was doing. She was probably able to handle herself, but he didn't know how she would treat this situation. Sh'Ky marked her as the kind of woman that, while capable of handling situations delicately, as evidenced by the fact that she didn't stab him with her big bloody knife, she might not have the most... finesse to handle this one. Pulling a dusty crate below him, the boards creaked as he sat down, hat low, scarf still obscuring his face. The cloak shifted, however, and revealed his sheathed sword. A cold wind blew down the street, kicking up dervishes of dirt, dust, and sand. Gazing upon the woman with ice-cold eyes, he waited.

Gods help the fool that he was, he waited.

[Fallon]

Fallon continued her work. Slow and steady, moving an analytical in every sense of the word. There was almost a rhythm with it, the pulling out of ink here, the pausing for a closer inspection there. She gave a rise up onto her toes a gentle tap of fingers upon the wall as she reached above her head. Digits smeared along the wood, the faint picking up grit and grime. Nostrils gave a flare, the prickling down of her gaze to the tips before she shook it off - nothing to think too hard about. Her tongue gave a click, a creasing of leathers as she moved around once more this time to face the opposite wall.

There was only the flicker of movement somewhere behind her, a small glance back over her shoulder. A pause, she clinked the nib once more into the vial and watched the movement. Sound, faint groaning - it suggested a lot of weight - the cloaked man returning and showing off his blade without a second thought. Subtle as it may have been, a faint warning had been painted with his movement though a warning for what was the question. What was his game? His motive? Her eyes gave a flicker down, the neutral mask falling into place. A slow, thoughtful blink, the moment of study shifting from her surroundings to the person.

Silent, waiting, was he trying to force her into a reaction? Or was he merely an observer? Another glance to the blade. He had showed it off, the gaze locking onto her in cold recollection. No, he was here for something else other than idle watching. That much was made clear, the body language screamed it even if the face did not. Yet he had given the impression that he knew nothing of the area, voiced nothing to counter that. Lips were licked, a flicker down to her own blades - the kukri and the tulwars - and then peeled her gaze away once more. What made him change his mind? She doubted it was the work of sudden recollection, and it was such a nagging factor that raised her hackles.

It was a warning, her mind whispered subtly. Her lids pinched as she looked back down to her work once more a gentle tap as she scanned the alleyway for anything else that may have stood out to her. It was during her looking however, that she spoke, "Come for a show? Looking to see someone investigating properly? Must be a treat of entertainment for you?" She gave a tap upon the wall, her eyes narrowing down upon the wood as she stepped away to view it better, "Or, did you change your mind about something, stranger?"

[Sh'Ky Naes]

The woman's hostile words left Sh'Ky shivering under his cloak. It wasn't so much about the words themselves as the tone. The woman projected an air of complete confidence, authority, and hardness. Although she was probably a few years younger than him, he knew that age did not affect ability in the slightest. Clearing his throat loudly and standing up, Sh'Ky strode toward the alleyway quickly, his step urgent. Looking back and forth furtively, Sh'Ky channeled his own nervousness at the situation into the act. Hopefully, the woman would sense that something was wrong, and take the hint. Otherwise, well, there wasn't much that he could do for her.

He didn't know why he felt altruistic today. Maybe he didn't want a repeat of five years ago for this woman, and whomever cared about her. Or maybe it was to sate the thirst of his own parched conscience. He was still, after all this time, trying to figure out what to do after Rastia's death, trying to figure out what to feel, how to think. However, that was in the past, and Sh'Ky pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind. For now, he had to figure out how to get this woman to leave, without getting her more involved.

His voice intentionally rasping, 'Ky got close to the woman, and glanced behind him once, before he stared at her with cold, hard eyes. Dust flew around him, flapping his cloak, giving him an almost ethereal look of crimson and grey. "I haven't found any of your meddling entertaining, lass. And no, I haven't changed my mind about anything." He hoped that the investigator thought him older than he was. "I simply wanted to know who I have the honor of sharing an alley with." He tilted his head, a close approximation of a wry smile, when his face was obscured. He didn't know how the woman would take this, but he could probably guess. So, he loosened his sword in its sheath, damn the implications. He hoped that she wouldn't kill him immediately.

[Fallon]

His words were like a spray of water, cold, small droplets with little point other than to dampen the skin. And it was with that in mind that Fallon simply let the words strike, and dribble past her and drain away to the floor. There was no flinch back to when he leaned in, her feet locking into the ground and her form readying itself in anticipation for what was to come. Her fingers remembered where the kukri was on her person, twitching to draw whilst the rest of the alleyway was brought into perspective. Narrow, a full swing of a sword blade could not be done here - though that itself was depending on blade width. No, smaller weapons would hold the upper advantage here, she felt. And so, unfazed she simply looked him up and down, and proceeded to treat him with the contempt he deserved.

"Sharing or not sharing of an alleyway, if you have nothing to assist with, please do not disturb me with my work," she spoke softly, but the edge remained firm in her tone, "I am not being paid to waste time. Look and observe as you wish." With that, she turned firmly upon her heel and gently traced the wall once more, studying and attempting to piece together the information. A trying task with the gaze upon her silently judging. She knew the look, she knew what he was attempting to do - act above, higher and on the rise within the Sunberth food chain. It was not worth allowing herself to be riled up by such behaviour.

And so, largely ignoring him she continued. At first she paced, counting the steps in to the imprint where the body had fallen and the struggle remained - ten steps in, and noted it down - before hovering at the mouth once more. She remembered the startled words of her employer, the quicked hushed tones. The body had been found first thing in the morning, and the last she was seen in the late afternoon - it suggested that night time was the hour in which one struck. Her fingers gave a pat upon the page, thinking carefully as she fell into careful mumbling to herself.

"If it was night time... maybe a scream? No one came running. Riots, probably thought related to that... probably no witnesses," She gave the stranger a glance back then, flashing a smile and repeated herself clearer, "Probably." Fallon returned to her analysis after that, "Should start knocking on doors then, words help. See if they heard anything... I wonder if anyone even lives around here...?"

[Sh'Ky Naes]

The woman's dismissal of Sh'Ky agitated him to no end. Obviously, even though he was being intentionally mysterious, and alluding to the fact that she should get out now, she didn't leave, or at the very least ask why he wanted her to leave.
"Sharing or not sharing of an alleyway, if you have nothing to assist with, please do not disturb me with my work. I am not being paid to waste time. Look and observe as you wish." Raising an eyebrow, Sh'Ky did his best to not look agitated. "Oh? So who paid you? Was it Johnny, inquiring as to whom killed his favorite wench? Or was it someone else, someone... powerful? I'm intrigued. Not many people would care, let alone investigate something like this." Observing the woman as she poked around the alley, noting the things she seemed to be looking for first. Distance from the entrance between the two buildings, for one. Another was the notations of the marks made from the fight on the wall. Other, smaller things, as well, but Sh'Ky couldn't figure out what they were. He couldn't tell what this woman was thinking, much less what the crazy lady was focusing on. Those eyes, while hard like twin diamonds, weren't very steady. They flickered about, studying one thing, and then moving onto the next. It was quite annoying, but 'Ky supposed that he had better things to worry about. Like not getting stabbed by that big whacking knife.

"If it was night time... maybe a scream? No one came running. Riots, probably thought related to that... probably no witnesses. Probably. Should start knocking on doors then, words help. See if they heard anything... I wonder if anyone even lives around here...?" The woman's pointed words were in no way lost on Sh'Ky, as the humorless sarcasm made him rile up inside, words making him indignant. This woman just didn't quit. Loosening his grip on his sword, but keeping his stance urgent, 'Ky thought, I'm going to regret saying this, but if it makes the woman go away....

"I saw what happened here, and I know why. But please, don't bother any of the residents of this neighborhood. They don't take kindly to meddlers such as you and I. And please. Tell me your name, before I tell you anything. Also, I need to know why you're here. Why would you care, unless you're in league with the murderer, and don't want anyone finding any evidence?" The caustic accusation would most likely rile the woman up, hopefully, and even though he was putting a lot into this harebrained scheme, he didn't care. As long as he got out alive at this point, even if the woman was a fool and kept investigating, it would be a success for Sh'Ky.