Closed Katt Burglar (Kelski, Blackwing, Alses)

[Kelski]

Kelski should have been offended, but truthfully she was used to the treatment. Getting pushed off the man and then shoved aside was fairly common in her experiences with humans in Lhavit. They were rude creatures, greedy and temperamental. It was one of the reasons she was such a loner, lingering in her jewelry store apprenticeship - hiding there - rather than going out in the crowds and mingling. She shouldn't have come here tonight. That much was clear. She didn't belong and the man's actions reaffirmed her belief that it was true. Places like these clubs were alcohol was served and thugs played cards and cheated each other were not places Kelski belonged.

Still, there was always that internal drive to bring her to people, talk to them, interact with them. She didn't know why. She hated it. She wanted to be content on her own with her work and with people like Li who treated her well and paid her a fair wage for a good job done.

Kelski rubbed a sore elbow where she'd landed and then her sore rib where he'd shoved her aside. She didn't know what the finger gesture meant he'd made and she didn't have anyone around to ask, so she simply stepped back and into the deeper shadows on the porch. Someday she'd be able to be closer to the shadows, one with them, but for now it was enough to be surrounded by them and comforted in their sweet whispers.

They at least asked her if she was okay, which she was. Although bruised pride couldn't be counted as an injury, it smarted just as badly. The Kelvic sighed as the man raced off into the night. What was he to her? Anyone? No. None of these people were anyone she cared to know. She'd return later, on a different night, and perhaps someone would talk to her then.

The Kelvic turned around and slipped down the steps quietly. She left the chaos behind, unsure of what was going on anyhow, and not willing to tolerate rudeness to find out. She had work to do. The enameling her Master wanted her to finish was one task she didn't want to wait on completing. She'd get to that right away and tomorrow would be a new day, a better day, and she'd see what it would bring.

OOCThanks for the fun, Bee! I'm bowing out gracefully since the other two aren't acknowledging my PC being in the thread. It's all theirs.

[Alses]

Alses frowned blackly. “Incognito is a description,” she snarled back, recognizing exactly why Brandon had chosen to use the name her daytime form went by. Despite the temptation, she resisted the impulse to point out sarcastically that he was also a male, and that ‘mister’ was, perforce, an accepted title.

She squinted at the table, eyes distracted by the flash of kina. Slightly hazed with alcohol, the colours were over-bright, her focus not entirely perfect; the world fuzzed slightly at the edges. Alses still retained most of her faculties, however, more than enough to follow the game – or the passage of cards and shiny tokens – as well as listen with half an ear to Brandon.

Events moved quickly, making her head spin – or perhaps that was the alcohol. Either way, there was little opportunity for her to respond to Brandon again before an argument broke out and the game broke up – with a little help from Ryna.

A

The cool air of the plaza, a thousand little knives seeking the tiniest chink in the soft armour of Alses’ clothes, sobered her up considerably. Which was all to the good: a brain that was gently marinading in a selection of ethanol extracts generally didn’t appreciate being sloshed about by rapid movement.

With the benefit of a clearer head, Alses looked around, drinking in the familiar sight. The plaza was one she knew intimately well, even if the night did cast a veil of mystique over everything, the colour-thief of the moon draining vibrancy from all but the skyglass, which glowed in magnificent indifference to the lunar larceny.

A question niggled in the back of her mind, curiously insistent as she looked around the relatively dark area, eyes still keen: ‘Where are the Shinya?’ They patrolled, of course they did, like any good guards, but there were always stations, surely, places where they would gather and group.

Trouble spots, in other words, or places with easy access to many areas of the city. Preferably both. If so – and Alses suspected her surmise was right – then where were they? It was an oddity, and one that troubled her as it could only trouble someone with little experience of violence, less skill and still less interest in acquiring anything more than a passing acquaintanceship.

The quarry – and how nice it was, in the privacy of her own head, to be so unambiguous – was interrupted, delayed; his collision with a girl (probably), an innocent bystander bought her precious ticks as he struggled up again, bellowing swearwords before taking to his heels again, reeling and tripping and spilling a cascade of shining coins from his pockets.

It took Alses a few ticks to marshal her magic. Normally immediately responsive and there before she even recognized a conscious need, it was dulled and sluggish, fettered and impeded by alcohol. It was for good reason that mages tended not to drink to excess, quite aside from the mental effects it had.

Even though it took her a moment or two, she was still skilled enough, and with sufficient djed reserves, to use it well. The artist unseen soon drenched the dark and quiet square with light and colour and sound, filling her mind like smoke with a fading record of the events over the last few chimes and bells.

The collision was a bright star, dripping crimson through the sieve of the magic to splatter the flagstones; violence and the anticipation of violence, revenge and retribution. Bright globs of golden greed shimmered and spangled and glinted, too, radiating in waves as one of the men scrabbled amongst the skyglass for dropped coins, taking his reward in money rather than blood.

There was a burning line of it, too, a runnel of molten gold, scintillating with silver smugness, racing like a trail of fire behind the alcohol-dogged steps of Katts, a broad trail that was easy to follow.

Brandon’s aura was intimately familiar to her, and she could taste his impression in the air, an arrogant and self-important mouse with wings; she could find him easily. Katts was easy, too, by dint of those staccato steps and the bright trail that blazed out in his wake.

Taking advantage, Alses moved more slowly, now, but still with purpose; she knew these streets well, the shortcuts and byways burned into her brain from her couriering days – the information had proved variously useful ever since she’d acquired it.

“What I wouldn’t give for a bird’s-eye view,” she mumbled, in between sharp breaths, as she headed at speed down another street, looking for the cut-across she knew existed and that would put her right where she wanted to be – a little way past the two thieves, the better to watch.

That was the plan, at least, but either her tired brain or Katts’ alcohol-sozzled one made a mess of timing; rather than emerging during or after the two thieves met, all the better to garner evidence of illegality and (oh please) a conviction of one if not both, she instead slid onto the alleyway and found, to her shock and horror, an alcohol-belching juggernaut bearing down.

She froze, a deer-in-djedlight moment, transfixed as useless thoughts raced around and around in her head, a clamouring din that drowned out rational thought. Brandon was close by, she knew it – and a tiny, irreverent part of her appreciated the hopeless irony of hoping her erstwhile saviour would come to the rescue – but what would he do?

The man was too close for her to run away from: what could she do? Desperately, her brain seized on an idea; would the oldest and most childish little trick – the hooked leg – work? Followed up with a swift kick to the crotch – that, Alses was aware, in a vague sort of way, could stop most men. For a while, at least.

The horrifying question squirrelcaging around in her brain, though, was whether it would be enough, if Brandon didn’t do something.

[Kelski]

Kelski

Experience: Observation +3, Planning +1, Socialization +2, Acrobatics +1

Lores: Lhavit: Starving This Season , PCs in Lhavit Are Dicks.