Wild Streets - Spring/Summer 510(ALL Beggars, Thieves, Etc)

[Eris]

Eris’s eyes went wide as a pale, flickering light illuminated the darkness. Her hand reached for her dagger, but as soon as her fingers had grasped the hilt, she forced herself to stop the knee-jerk reaction. Slowly, she turned, trying to keep her face composed, even as her heart raced at hyper speed. She tried to make out the man’s face – to see if it was someone she recognized, but to no avail. His invitation to sit did nothing to quell the panic rising in her chest. A calm and composed enemy was often more dangerous than a raving lunatic. Nevertheless, she perched at the edge of the armchair stiffly, her back straight and her hand hovering near her blade. Her eyes never left the man’s face, still trying to match it to something from her memories. “Syliras is a busy city by nature. One cannot help but be busy within it,” she said levelly, finding that the frantic beating of her heart slowed down as she talked. She decided that she would not ask questions herself, nor offer up any more information than necessary. The key to getting out of this unscathed – if that was even a possibility any more – was to not give too much away, while gaining information for herself.

[Ash'eny]

Victory, success. Ash'eny easily maneuvered the crowds of Syliras until he had completely put the bazaar behind him. With his success, which he had only imagined obviously, as another soul besides himself seemed to exist with knowledge of his actions, and perhaps knew a bit more than even Ash'eny himself. Regardless, the illusion of success only altered and strengthened his emotions. One, his addiction. Ash'eny was flooding with pride as he pulled off a successful theft attempt, sure his victim was older, probably one of the easiest and simplest targets in Syliras, but it was a success, he had the bag of - who knows how much - money firmly held in his hand. He would have broken into excited laughter, if it wasn't for the pride being smelted together with various other emotions. Such as raw disgust, Ash'eny didn't steal to survive. He was young, healthy, obviously was skilled in a few ways. Work would not be impossible for him to obtain, in fact, it would probably be quite simple. His youth alone could get him any number of lesser jobs without a hassle, but this is what he had chosen. Perhaps if he needed this money to survive, he would have felt better about his choice, but he didn't, and that pulled at his heart. Ash'eny, completely distracted by his illusion of success and his swelling pride and self-loathing, was unaware that he was practically leading the keen pair of eyes that trailed him by the hand, into the alley across the street from the 'Rearing Stallion'. Ash'eny himself stepped inside to see, as usual, his three homeless friends. His arms trembled lightly, it had been for several minutes now, as he saw them, and finally, he smiled with relief. Perhaps he didn't need the money, but they did, and he did share with them. He felt for them. Ash'eny sat down without a word and opened the bag slowly as he peered inside, he did not pour out the contents onto his lap, but sat there looking inside. Each of the three other homeless men watched in confusion and anxiety, yet had stopped all conversation as Ash'eny returned. Ash'eny stared into the bag, counting and recounting to the best of his ability, his face was frozen however, either in complete shock, pure confusion, or severe horror at what he had obtained.

[Dusk]

Eris The man smirked a little as she simply replied rather than getting defensive or trying to talk her way out of it. She knew she'd been caught, and she was smart enough to see what she could do now. "You're keeping your wits about you, Eris," he said, leaning over to retrieve a bottle of liquor from beside his chair. "That's good - better than I'd hoped actually. Careful not to give anything away, waiting to see what you have to share and what you can keep to yourself. Looks like I made the right decision so far." Rather than pour a glass for her, he simply pulled the cork and took a few shorts sips himself, licking an errant drop from his lips - maybe because he was a sloppy drinker, or maybe to prove to her that he had, indeed, drunk the whiskey and that it wasn't poisoned. Then he handed it to her, not bothering to ask if she would or she wouldn't. He had an air about him that demanded obedience with a threat that was rarely spoken aloud; the hot, lazy grace of a panther that could strike at any time. "You may call me Ran," he said dryly, touching a fingertip to his temple in mock-salute. "I have been your... well, I'm not really sure what the word is for it," he laughed, taking a quick puff of the cigar. "If you were selling your vagik then I suppose I'd be your pimp. Your procurer, perhaps? Or... your agent, yes, I like that," he said with a grin and a snap of his fingers. "I have been your agent. Or did you think you'd been getting all this jobs with your own good graces and excellent charm?" he snickered.

Ash'eny Within the bag lay hundreds of mizas, too many for Ash'eny to properly count while crouched in the middle of the street, and all of them were rimmed in gold. Even as he sat, confused and unsure, there was a crunch of boots behind him. His three compatriots looked up - and then clutched their patchwork rags around themselves and fled down the other end of the alley. Behind him stood a dark-haired woman in brown and gray leathers, ice-blue eyes glued to the beggar-thief. Her riding boots scuffed the ground just enough to let him know she was there, and then went silent as she fell into a patterned step meant to conceal her movements from the ears of others. What had made the beggars flee, though, was the Windoak crest sewn into the right shoulder of her tunic, done in a shining silver thread that matched the same pattern worked into the black leather sheath of her sword. Most telling, of course, were the three silver pins hovering just above the crest, marking her rank as Stewart Knight. "Looks like you've had quite a haul there, young man," she said softly - and smiled at him as if nothing at all were the matter. As if Knights weren't in the habit of quietly gutting thieves when they caught them.

[Eris]

Eris drew in a sharp breath at the mention of her name, feeling more and more vulnerable by the second. Who is this man? Doesn’t act like a knight, so presumably he isn’t one, which is already a point in his favor. But even if a small part of her felt relief at the man’s not being a knight, an even greater part wished that he was. This man – whoever he was – had managed to figure out her strategies, almost reading her thoughts to a tee. Things would have been decidedly simpler if he was a knight. Her nose wrinkled slightly at the proffered drink, but she grasped the bottle nonetheless. She had a strong distaste for alcohol after the many evenings she had spent dragging Joel out of bars. But it looked like she would have to drink now, at least to keep up pretenses. Pretenses of what exactly, she wasn’t yet sure. She brought the bottle to her lips and tilted it slightly. Her eyes never left the man as the warm liquid traveled down her throat. She had to admit, she felt slightly more relaxed, which she did not consider a good thing. She set the bottle down, with a slight nod. Eris resisted the urge to gape at the man as he introduced himself as her “agent”. Her agent of all things! It sounded utterly preposterous, but it did make sense in a way that made Eris feel rather cold all of a sudden. It had been strange – finding clients had become so much easier and most of her employers seemed to trust her skills before they had even seen her at work. In light of this new development, Eris decided that she might as well break her own rules about this situation and ask a question. “Well, Ran, perhaps you do have a point there, but why would you take it upon yourself to help my career? And why make your presence known now of all times?”Eris asked, gesturing vaguely about the darkened room of a stranger’s house. Unless, this is no stranger's house. Eris felt a sickening sensation that told her this must have all been a setup. The ledger, the client - everything constructed to get her to this very spot.

[Ash'eny]

There was something wrong. Ash'eny peered into the bag, his own thought seemed to be engulfed in that small sea of coin, yet something felt very wrong. He couldn't get the old man out of his head, even though this probably meant that he had more than enough money to spare, it surely meant he earned every single miza in this bag. Not like Ash'eny of course. "This feels wrong..." Ash'eny looked up at his homeless friends, only to see their stares of horror, which was only moments before the men sped away, which was impressive because one of them had a bum leg. Ash'eny didn't bother to turn around nor beg for mercy. Ash'eny knew he was caught, he knew just how these things went down. He knew his options were limited: exile or death. Ash'eny took a deep breath as the woman's voice rolled over him, which was a surprise in itself. He had countless encounters with men of all types since he began his thieving career, but never once had a woman stepped up and challenged him. She did, however, sound incredibly confident, perhaps even dangerous. Ash'eny pondered for a moment, considering explaining himself or even expressing his guilt. What good would that do though? It would sound like a pathetic man trying to weasel out of his own foolish situation. No, there was not going to be any begging for his life. Ash'eny slowly tied the bag up again and held it in his left hand, the one missing a pinkie finger. He grinned at the thought of losing his other pinkie, the cause was the same, punishment for getting caught. Ash'eny slowly turned, making sure not to alert the woman, since he assumed that anybody bold enough to step up to a thief, who could very well be armed (which Ash'eny was with a dagger) and skilled with such weapon (which Ash'eny was not) and skewer him without difficulty. once Ash'eny brown iris-surrounded eyes locked onto the blue set that watched him, he forced a weak smile, not even close to a convincing smile. "I suppose I have." Ash'eny examined the crest, the symbol of the Syliran Knights, he knew it now, he really was a dead man now. "You've got some impressive eyes." Ash'eny grinned now, nothing fake, but almost comical. He meant two things at once: the beautiful hue that she held in her irises, and the pure skill in catching him at his deed. He thought he had managed to perform the theft perfectly, but apparently not. "The name's Tolby. Would it be to much trouble to have yours?" Ash'eny smiled, that was the name he had taken since he first came to Syliras, and he hadn't planned on using his real name for a petching single thing while he was here. In fact, he used 'Tolby' so often he was beginning to believe it was his name really. Perhaps he wasn't Ash'eny much longer."

[Dusk]

Eris Ran watched as the realization of the set-up dawned on Eris, and simply nodded when he saw comprehension dawn on her face - though it was more a paling than a brightening considering the information she'd just pieced together. "This was a job, just not the job you thought it was," he said with a lazy shrug, still all animal grace and relaxation. "We knew this particular person was planning to use the ledger he'd stolen as evidence to bring to the Knights - it seems his rival was smuggling in some rather unsavory items - and while we usually wouldn't get involved in these little internecine engagements, the organization for which I work would be very put out to find one of it's key members beheaded. So we went ahead and... dispatched... the man," he said with a nod towards the sleeping chamber that Eris had been careful not to disturb. The pauses made it clear that the silence coming from the room was more than just a peaceful slumber. He also didn't much look like he cared. "But in answer to your first question, I've made you an interest of mine because you are useful. Remember that should you ever think to become less useful," he said with a perfectly friendly smile. Or what should have been a friendly smile, except for the sinister way the cigar smoke clung to his hair like a portent. "The answer to your second question is a bit more complicated, but suffice to say that to keep you in the dark about our connection means possibly endangering both you and the work I wish you to do. So I thought it better to arrange a little meeting. Besides," he chuckled, puffing on the cigar once more, "I enjoy watching you work. There's a simplicity to it, a purity. When you break into a place, people don't even realize they've been beaten. You've got finesse. It's a rare quality in a criminal."

Ash'eny The woman smiled casually, as friendly as you please, and propped a hand on her hip. "Ah, that's not your name," she said with a chuckle, flicking her hair over her shoulder. As she did, she revealed the intricate silver brand burned into the left side of her neck - a sword surrounded by a vine of thorn-studded roses. On the right side, the same silvery etching formed a delicate snowflake, though less detailed than the sword. Gnosis marks, given to this particular woman by two different gods; an unsurprising find in a high-ranking Knight. The movement also revealed that the blue of her eyes laid like a sheen upon her black hair as well. "So let's make a deal. You give me your name and I'll give you mine. If nothing else, it will help this pleasant little encounter to continue." Because we both know how it will likely end, hung the unspoken finish to that sentence.

[Eris]

Eris listened to the man’s explanation, hanging onto every word. A heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach when he used the word ‘we’. It only intensified when he proceeded to say that he worked for an organization. Now, any plans Eris might have had of dispatching the man were out of the question. Not that she had many plans in that regard in the first place, but it was always nice to have at least a theoretical way out. But with an entire organization backing this man, attempting to kill him would prove to be suicide. “Thanks for the compliment,” she said dryly. Was it wrong to feel flattered when a dangerous stranger complemented you on your criminal technique? Eris felt flattered all the same – a feeling she instantly forced down. Having the man admire her work might prove to have its benefits besides enlarging her ego. If he liked her work, he would be less likely to mark her as expendable. Unless, she were to ‘become less useful.” Eris refused to think about that comment for the moment. “And is this work you wish me to do any different from the work I’ve already been doing?” she asked, deciding that it was best to accept her current predicament and understand as much of the situation as she could.

[Ash'eny]

Ash'eny felt the air being pulled straight from his lungs as he stared at the woman silently. This was terrifying. Somehow she had known he lied, such a simple lie that he had said so often that he almost believed it himself. Did she look familiar? Unlikely, there weren't too many girls he was around in Sunberth, but Ash'eny could not for the life of him grasp at just how she would have known he had lied unless she had known him back in those days. Seeing as she was a Syliran knight as well, and having the common sense to know that took a good deal of time to achieve, his little flimsy theory was shot to hell. He saw the markings on her neck of course, but Ash'eny was unfamiliar with the Gods, with Gnosis marks. For all he knew, it was a very elaborate tattoo practically searing in symbolism. He didn't even consider that it gave her the ability to straight up see through his lies. Ash'eny stood there for a long while, just staring at her, her staring at him, and if it wasn't for the extreme fear that had tightened his joints to the point where if he had tried to escape, he wouldn't make it two feet before he collapsed, assuming she didn't catch him before he considered such an idea that is. "You know me." It was a statement, more towards himself than to the Knightly woman. Those were the only words Ash'eny would say for several moments, he wasn't going to fight, and the tone in his voice was that of utter resignation, surrender. She knew his crime, and they both knew such actions must be punished. What was it? Death? Exile? Both had the same outcome. So be it. Ash'eny could live with that, as ironic as it sounds. He'd been searching for meaning for quite some time, perhaps there just wasn't one for him. Death is just what he deserved. A faint smirk lifted up the left side of Ash'eny's lips. Hell, he was going to die anyway. "You enjoy this don't you?" He was referring to her toying with him, dancing around the main point of the subject. He committed a crime, he was caught, there was only one more step in this vicious little triangle. There was one word that came to his mind: sadist.

[Dusk]

Eris Ran chuckled, shrugging a little as he stamped the end of his cigar out on an elaborately carved ashtray beside him. "Different? Not particularly," he murmured. "There will be about the same amount of breaking and entering. But the assignments will likely require a bit more improvisation on your part. You did well with that little murderess in the woods," he said with another lazy smile. "I pretty well think you mind-humped that poor sod of a Knight. That's actually what convinced me you might be a good fit for the types of jobs we have in mind for you. Things that will require you to think on your feet, to know when to keep your mouth shut and when to make your threats. More gathering of information rather than just fetching a few items here or there." The next smile he gave was just as sharp as his others, but there was something in it - something that conveyed both a compliment in her skills, and a challenge to them. "Do you think you're up for it?"

Ash'eny The woman before him waited him out, stood just as casually while he processed whatever thoughts were skittering through his head. She didn't move until his last statement - and though he was smirking, the woman seemed to sense what he was really saying behind it. Her face softened, and before he could react she closed the distance between them on silent feet. One small hand reached up, striped with callous that were their own testimony to her skill with a blade, and gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. "No," she murmured, and that single word was full of regret and, strangely enough, forgiveness. "No, I do not enjoy this. And perhaps we have not laid eyes on each other before, but I do know you. These things you do, the crimes that lay upon your soul, they are not who you truly are. You take pride in your skill, in the accomplishment of besting your marks, don't you? But it eats at you, too. You need to do these things, and you hate doing these things," she whispered, and the blue of her eyes as they bored into his shimmered and shifted, pooling like molten silver and tilting over into green instead of blue.

[Eris]

A familiar prick of guilt stabbed at her at the mention of the knight. True, a part of her was proud of how she handled the situation, but there was always that blasted conscience that ridiculed her. Oh, how she hated that conscience – the damned voice in her head that always thought it knew better than she did. Always, that voice had belonged to Joel. But for all the times she wished he would shut up, she now wished he was here to advise her. And yet, no matter how much she waited to hear some valuable piece of advice inside her mind, the inner voice stayed silent. Eris parted her lips to answer and realized that no words were coming out. Her throat had suddenly gone dry; so much so, that she even entertained the possibility of taking another sip of the drink. She was good at what she did and she knew it. She knew that she loved the rush of blood in her veins during a job and the pleasant high she felt after the job’s completion. She loved the click of an opening lock and the sound of a dagger slashing through the air. But there were things she despised about her chosen path and those were the things that kept her awake at night. Never being sure whether she had the right to kill weighed heavily on her mind. Surely, it was wrong for one human to carry out judgment on so many… It must be wrong to deceive innocent people - people like that unfortunate knight… And there would always be causalities – people who were not meant to die, but had to be dealt with…. Every argument she had ever had with herself resurfaced in her mind. These arguments had played out over and over in her mind for four years and now she was asked to make a final choice. Moreover, asked to do so by a man she didn’t know – a man who claimed to have all this information and who was clearly dangerous. Come to think of it, did she even have a choice? Could it be as simple as agreeing with the man so as to escape this house alive? No. Things were never simple with Eris and she firmly believed that there was always a choice, even if she usually made the wrong one. She drew in a breath, her eyes locked on Ran’s as she replied in a careless tone that did not match her mood, “Yes. Yes, I’m up for it.”