PM to join [The Slums] Look Her in the Eye (Terror)

[Orion Michaels]

35th of Fall, 514 AV
Alleyway in The Slums
20th Bell

It felt as though he had been working non-stop since he agreed to work for Jillene. The Sunberthian woman had been somewhat of a taskmaster. Cooking, cleaning, constructing, de-constructing, and that was all before Syna's rays were direct over head. He'd have traded his current situation to do all of those things at the same time.

Jillene had instructed him to increase his vigilance in the area immediately around the Orphanage in the wake of more gang activity. He wasn't to start any trouble, but she did want to be aware of the danger was growing closer to the orphanage. Guards like Orion were effectively her eyes in a deadly slums. Despite a handful of days working under her and her stern

"What good is a fucking guard if he gets lost in this fucking dark?" Annoyed mutters crept from his lips as he took another turn, hoping to see something he recognized. Cursing again under his breath, the ex-squire took a deep breath and continued his trek through the night.

A gentle breeze picked up and the torchlight flickered, creating dancing shadows which teased the edges of Orion's vision. Monsters which could very well be there taunted him from the blur between reality and imagination. The increased violence which had been plaguing the city did little to aid his nerves. The last he could afford to do was be lost. As that ship had sailed, he had a new task at hand: Not letting anyone realize that he was lost. The city preyed on any sign of weakness. All Orion could do was walk with purpose.

The night sky offered little in the way of light for the lost guard, clouds obscuring what little illumination could have aided him in his desperation. Subconsciously his hand wandered to the hilt of his blade. He would defend himself if he had to, but he'd rather have avoided meeting anyone. Another turn, another line of aged, unsafe buildings that looked the same as everything else he had come across.

"...Where am I?"

With a sigh, Orion leaned against the wall of a structure that seemed safe, hoping to come up with a plan. "If I can locate the river, I might just be able to..." The torchlight waved wildly with another breeze, and out of the corner of his eyes he caught the glint of something shiny. Someone had lost a coin.

"At least I can afford a drink, now." The guard leaned over to retrieve the silver miza.

[Terror]

The Zith had lurked in the darkness as she always did, hunkered on all fours with her shoulders tense and her wings curled protectively around her. She had eaten already, the remnants of her previous kill staining her fingertips and leaving an aftertaste in her mouth with every curious sweep of her tongue against the backs of her teeth. For the moment, her stomach was satisfied, and that was all that mattered.

Until she saw the coin and, in her interest, settled upon a nearby building in order to look upon it and consider it. It was, of course, not the only coin the Zith had seen. She had her own in her home, a collection of coins acquired during her travel that went unused and underappreciated for their real value. They were glitter and sparkle, useful for early mornings when hunger slowly crawled upon her and there was no hope for venturing beyond her 'home' due to the bright sunlight that threatened to sear itself into her eyes.

Need did not dictate that the coin was required. It simply was there, eye-catching and lovely. She didn't touch it, yet it was hers, and even without her being aware, it became bait.

As the man walked the street, muttering indistinct words and struggling in the dark, the Zith tensed and half rose from her seated position, excitement surging through her body reflexively, like a hunter spotting the rabbit wandering towards his snare. Into the building's roof, her nails dug in, holding on. A sense of protectiveness for something the Zith labelled as hers burst into her as he leaned forward and--

The Zith let loose a loud screech and dived down, glad in the moment for a relatively empty side street and the promise of being uninterrupted for a brief second. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway: the coin was hers and she would fight for it, as important things had always traded hands after blows had been exchanged back in the colony.

She kept out of reach of his arms, should he swing at her, knowing enough about humans to understand them this far. She was bristling, fur on point and wings half spread, increasing her mass. Intimidation mattered. The coin was suddenly important, and so it also mattered. It was hers.