The masked Nightingale’s empty gaze swiveled to stare at Aquarius, her body language subtly adjusting as she shifted in her seat. Was the robot challenging them to some sort of sparring duel right now? While complaining about the cost of time? She rasped a dry and unamused chuckle, shaking her head. “Is it normal for your clients to be so threateningly impatient?”
“When they sit around blathering and wasting our time, of course.” Aquarius cut in sharply. “The empty posturing and pointless talk of criminals does nothing to further our purposes and goals, and does nothing to prove your supposed skill.”
Fayez was quick to put himself between the automaton and his specialists, his cloak snapping to the side as he laid his hand on his piece defensively.
“Or the only specialists who bothered to answer your political-posturing goose chase of a job request can walk, asshole.” The fixer’s dark brows were furrowed, the lines of his face sharp and harsh in the cool white light of the Tonegwa. His frame seemed to fill the space between the two parties, making himself the robot’s problem. “I get it, you’re pissed and you wanna go get your psychopathic business buddy back, but this shit doesn’t happen instantly, and you’re a damn idiot if you think so. Blacksite jailbreaks? Pretty damn risky. Risk means consideration, consideration means talkin’. I don’t take kindly to my specialists being threatened by clients over stupid shit. I’ve been in this game a damn long time, so unless you have more than two decades working experience with the Underground, you two don’t have much of a choice but to trust and listen to me when I say talent is talent, so push offa sec’, ‘kay?”
“Push off a second?” Aquarius nearly growled, the seven foot tall metallic monstrosity menacing down at the merc with a distinct intensity.
“Yeah, I said to get off my back about it, two minutes of talk doesn’t mean shit when you have to travel between Mesa and Erde.”
The feline one leaned forward, her stare falling onto Anders to study his growing aggravation at the back-and-forth. She was remarkably still and poise, wary, waiting to see if the snow-haired man would reel in his companion before a further escalation.
However, it was the Shadow who reached a hand out and grabbed Fayez by the shoulder first. He gave the ex-merc an easy smirk. “Fayez, my friend, there is no need.” He gestured smoothly, as if dismissing the idea that there was even any sort of problem unfolding at all. The Shadow glanced up to the automaton from behind the fixer. “And there is honestly no need for that, really. Saw the news coverage of your bank robbery myself, and it was proof enough for me. It is abundantly clear that the Heralds have the fire-power and ability to handle defending themselves if the need arises... My partner and I were merely discussing transportation preferences. Important when you run with a crew, after all.”
Aquarius seemed to defuse a bit at the rogue’s words. If they were only discussing details of transportation, then that certainly meant they were already settled on joining them.
“Aquarius,” Anders began, his voice as stern as any commander’s, “We have already had to wait a week. We can spare five minutes...” The firebrand glanced at the Nightingale. “You two are prepared to leave imminently, right?”
“Whatever we need, we can acquire it on the way there.” The silver tongued Shadow interjected, the felide nodding her head along in agreement.
“This one never comes to a mission ill-prepared.” The woman assuaged the magic-thief’s fears with an unshakable self-assurance. She was more modest in brandishing about her sense of it than her co-conspirator at least, Anders concluded with a nod and terse grunt of affirmation.
Aquarius spun on his heel with the precision only a machination could possess, moving off and pushing his way into the cockpit with a bit of attitude. “Fine.” He whirred tartly. “I’ll be in the front when you are done with the ruffians, Anders.”
The aged extremist shook his head, then looked back to the group of Underground specialists, “The assistance is… appreciated. Given our current situation we’re on edge, there is no room for failure in what we are about to do, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
The Nightingale nodded her head, flicking her tail as she answered for her partner. “Yes. There is never room for failure in jailbird-heists. It is a good thing this one does not fail then, no?”
“If it’s all settled, I’ll be heading out. A word, Shadow?” Fayez was quick to pull the shadowy thief away towards the ramp, as away from prying ears as he could manage.
“Yes Fayez, what is it that has gotten you all secretive? Pray tell, you are not about to make a soulful love confession to me, are you~?” The rogue chuckled with a slick smirk that the merc could easily detect from tone alone.
The fixer rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. “No, fool. I thought you were dead for five months. Why didn’t you get in touch with me sooner?” His whisper came across harsh, a tinge of hurt evident in its tone.
“Aw, it is a love confession. You missed me that much, hm~?” Shadow teased before his voice lowered. “... You know what a damaged reputation can do to a man. Had to get back on my feet first. What she did cost me nearly everything I had worked for.”
The retired mercenary looked over the younger man, his dark eyes narrowing slightly before he glanced back down the entry hall at the feline, then back to the thief. “Then don’t let that shit happen to you again. If there’s one lesson you should learn the first time, it should be that one. I know crazy bitches get your blood all hot, but don’t forget that sting just because some pretty lashes were batted at you, savvy?”
A sigh sounded from the Shadow. “Savvy.”
“Good. I’ve seen a lot of would-be’s and have-not’s come and go through the Underground. Lots’a hotshots with a head as big as yours get popped quick, but you?” Fayez clasped the man’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, his tone had a rare softness to it. “You gotta lotta talent, kid. Don’t waste it all doing some dumb shit and getting yourself killed.”
The old merc raised his free hand to tut with his index finger. “And if I catch wind of that bitch of a she-devil, I swear to the sands that I’ll paint her brains across an alleyway wall and leave her to rot. She was bragging that she’d had you ‘taken care of’.”
“And you would deny me the opportunity of doing the same?” The younger man rolled his silver eyes. “I thought you despised jumping in on other people’s jobs, Fayez~ You of all people should know that I am capable of handling it.”
“Fine. If I hear anything I’ll pass it on to you... But like I said,” the fixer again looked up to where the khajiit sat as he pulled away, “make sure it’s a mistake you only make once, Shadow. You can’t always count on lady luck to save your ass.”
’Yeah, I already know lady luck personally.’ The rogue muttered under his breath, scoffing and shaking his head as Fayez’s heavy footsteps thudded down the ramp. As he reached the bottom he turned to cast one last glance at the thief, a smirk plastered to his scarred face as he waved.
“Stay safe, you wild bastard!”
“You too, old man.” The Shadow chuckled and hit the control, bringing the ramp in and up. They were ready to start on their journey, he just had to let them know. He turned, heading back towards the conference room, only to find that Anders was alone at the table.
“I closed the ramp. We are ready to depart at your leisure.” The rogue alerted the magic-thief, who simply hummed an acknowledgement and made to leave for the cockpit. “Ah, Anders- Did you happen to see where the Nightingale went?”
The snowy-haired thaumaturgist gestured across the room, towards a door labeled ‘Armory’. “In there. She said she wanted to train. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have to prepare for take off.”
The armory was a small gray room, its walls adorned with weapon racks displaying varying instruments of death, each and all elegant in their design and purpose. A small circular mat in darker gray took up the center of the room, allowing enough space for Ratima to practice her stances. She stood perfectly in the middle, her form held in one of the long lunging poses of Ziz Kurah before shifting into a frighteningly swift dual slash with her claws. One could hear the hiss of air breaking in a whistle around her deathly digits.
The khajiiti woman’s body was as well of a honed weapon as any of the ones mounted to the walls in display. In fact, she thought herself perhaps the most elegant and graceful of them all.
Frankly, Ra had heard enough of Fayez distrusting her. She followed her strikes through with an aggressive kick that arched through the air far above her head, her spotted tail whipping out as a counter balance to her fast-paced agility. She understood the fixer’s distrust, but that didn’t make the accusation feel any better. She couldn’t even fault him, either.
Her lesson learned had been a man by the name of Mercer Frey. A sniveling rat of a bastard in the worst sense. She shot her closed fist through the air in a sharp jab, her exhales coming out in controlled, muted huffs. She had hated that condescending jackass, always snarking down at her despite her marvelous efforts to restore the guild. Traitor. Traitor.
A growl slipped past her teeth, hushed by the mask worn over her face. Mercer had been an utter disgrace and mockery of a Nightingale, breaking his sacred contract with Noctra. Another quick fist punctuated the air. She had relished in the act of tearing his thrice-damned soul from his corporeal body for that, and the total shame he had brought down on her guild.
“Careful kitten, keep going at that pace and you will make me sweat.”
She flicked her tail at the familiar voice of the intruder, instantly stilling her movements so to not accidentally strike or trip over him. She pushed her silver Rajhin mask up and off her face, and pulled her hood down, turning to face him. “Yes kodeshi’fa? What is it?”
“Co-dae-she-fah? What odd khajiiti word is that?” Demetri asked curiously, taking her stillness as permission to draw closer.
“Ah, in common one would say something like ‘shadowy-one’, kodesh meaning ‘shadow’, ’fa meaning ‘one who is’... Why is he interrupting her training? Certainly he did not come for a lesson in Ta’agran vocabulary.”
He shrugged casually. “Would it impress you if I had~?” The rogue smarmed, earning a look that had him raising his hands. “Eh, not interrupting, really. Just wanting to watch a master in action~ No sane man would fail to be fully impressed by your physique after all, darling.”
The feline chuckled, studying him keenly, “so he wants to watch a show.”
“Perhaps.” Demetri smirked and gave a little nod to the side. “You have teased me so much about all this training you do to hone those impressive skills of yours. I thought I should come and see it in action.”
Ratima rolled her shoulders and neck, several loud cracks and pops coming from her vertebrae as she did so. She stared up at him, quirking one of her dark, circular eyebrows.
“Well? Do not tell me you have been struck by stage fright, kitten~” He teased.
She leaned forward, lifting up on her tip-toes to whisper to him. “She does not perform for the whims and favors of men, like Masahir.” She dropped back down onto her heels and blinked lazily at him, an amused half-smirk on her black lips.
He gave a cheeky, short chuckle, then reached a hand up to play with one of her loose braids. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as she put a hand on his chest and played the other up the belly of his forearm. “A-hah, is that so now~? Not a single way to convince you, sugar?”
“No.” Suddenly the man found his leg swept out from under him and strong, small hands tossing him flat onto his back on the mat and pinning him. Ratima grinned down at him, baring an unsettling length of her daggerish white canines, her pupils dilated all wide like a cat at play. He could feel the sharp tips of her claws pricking his skin through his linen shirt.
It was terrifyingly adorable, and he found himself blinking up at her for a couple of seconds with a sorta dumbstruck expression as his cloak floundered and crumpled all around him.
“If he wants to learn, it will have to be a hands-on experience for him, not just a show~ Now get up. Get up and train if he is so eager to learn her skills and style!” She taunted as she yanked him back up to his feet, quick to slip out of range as soon as he had his footing back.
He pulled his cloak free from his shoulders and tossed the dark heap of fabric on a stool in the corner, a broad and easy grin on his face as he settled into a boxing pose. “If that’s how you want to play, sweetheart, then by all means; count me in~”
Her icy eyes were keen, recognizing the form he took as she dropped into the whispering stance. “Pit fighting? She had you figured for one with far more finesse!” She darted forward, using the folded knuckles of her closed hands to jab at the first opening she found, twisting to rap his side. He had reach and almost a good solid foot of height on her, but she had far quicker reflexes.
“And what are you acting as, some sort of spitting cobra~?” He asked, huffing softly as he bounced back on the balls of his feet, recovering from her jab and launching his fists at her in a swift one-two.
Ratima dodged his quick-jabs effortlessly, ducking under his arms and thumping him twice in the diaphragm with a surgical precision as she took full advantage of his over-extension. “No, she is a seche tigress. That simple~”
The thief scowled, grunting as she drove some of the wind out of him, and pulled back to regain his stance. “This is that whispering claw thing you pulled on Constanstia back in the tunnels.”
“Yes sleek-one.” She murred affirmation as she sank into a shallow lunge and closed the gap with a blur of motion, bringing her knee up and extending her foot to catch the outside of his knee with her shin. The force had him twisting, his knee touching the mat and throwing his defense open, though she did not press her chance, instead deigning to quip instruction. “Brute force will not work against a master of Ziz Kurah, she will only outclass his slow paws.”
He shot back up to his feet and seized upon the chance to attempt replicating her stance. Her foot darted between his and hooked the inside of his ankle and calf, demanding in the way it adjusted his grounding. “He will be wise to pay as close attention as possible, too.”
“You know...” the rogue shot her a wry, devious grin as he danced around her footwork, yanking her arm and catching her legs in a sweep that forced her back onto the mat as she had done to him just moments prior. “Normally I prefer to be doing other things with a beautiful woman on her back, under me~”
She gasped in surprise, her tail swatting sharply as she worked to regain the upper hand from the vulnerable position. The inside of her right knee met the inside of his, her foot passing behind his leg to hook the outside of his hip as she rolled onto her side. Her nimble hand found a strong grip on his trapped ankle, locking him up. She pulled her knee up towards her chest, causing Demetri to stumble forward. Her free foot was quick to plant itself against his hip, and with a single motion she folded every joint in his leg as she twisted under him. Demetri’s hands instinctively flew out to brace against the ground as he did his best to not eat the floor of the tiny dojo.
He managed a quick glance through the gap in their tangled legs and caught her mouth pulled into a concentrated smirk. Of course, she wouldn’t just throw him face down onto the floor just yet. Instead she planned to reap the benefits of his downward dog styled break.
Both of her feet were hooked on the insides of his knees. Her small hands firmly clasped around his ankles as she extended her legs, forcing his own open and further throwing off what balance he had. The khajiit was expeditious in taking advantage of the split second break, each hand gripping his hips so that when he made to recover she simply yanked back and stole every bit of that remaining balance.
Demetri found himself momentarily airborne as he was pulled back and down onto her, his feet practically sailing over his head as his elbow landed on the mat just shy of her face. He had to admit, her small frame was a bit more cushy than the mat, but it didn’t help him in his uncertain flailing as she kept his knees hooked. Ratima extended her legs and rolled forward, using the leveraged position to bring him off her and onto the floor where she grappled onto him like a restrictive harness.
He huffed, twisting as he tried to break her hold... to no avail. Those well muscled thighs and arms were like iron around him. “You know, sugar, I like it better when you’re wrapped around me the other way-”
“Purrhaps,” her whiskers tickled at the back of his neck as she cut him off, her husky tone amused, “he should learn how to follow through before running that pretty mouth of his and getting ahead of himself~?”
“Or ‘purrhaps’ this khajiiti merchant lord is a bit embarrassed that I put her on that fine ass of hers so fast~”He smarmed with a strained chuckle.
“Or maybe his ego is just a smidge bruised since he had his own handed to him~” Ra rolled her eyes, untangling her limbs from him and standing to dust her hands off. Her heart was thumping from their little training spar, her spotted tail twitching back and forth with the remnants of her hyped-up energy. He was a quick study, sneaky as any alfiq in applying his tactics, she had to admit.
“Aww, do not tell me you are already all worn out from just that.” The thief teased as he wiped his palms on his pants, then across his forehead to clear the beading sweat. “I was just getting warmed up... Or are you worried that I will steal your whole style, darling~?”
The feline felt a smirk pull at the corner of her mouth as she exhaled sharply, turning to face him. He was smirking right back at her, as if daring her to do something about all his sassy audacity and smarm. Moons guide her, why was he so good at riling her up? She knew he was goading her on, playing her to see what all he could glean... But he was right. Her smirk grew to a full grin and she nodded. “Fine. Has he caught his fleeting breath?” Her voice dropped, the playful edge of threat apparent as she slid into a new strike stance with a uniquely feline liquidity. ”Watch closely then~! She will not go easy just because he is handsome~”
“I would want it no other way~!” He retorted, mimicking the first stance he’d picked up on.
Ratima-dro was relentless in her swift strikes, though she still kept her knuckles folded. There was little point in bloodying the man in friendly training, and even littler of a point in injuring her crime partner right before an important job.
The way her hands landed and forced huffs of air from his lungs was certainly making it hard to keep his breathing steady, but through the growing exhaustion that was weighing his limbs down he noticed something distinct; each rap of her knuckles against him helped to adjust his stance, every stinging kick he failed to dodge had his footing adapting to dance a rather graceful ’tango’ back and forth with her.
They traded fists and shins, and as the session went on the man managed to at least land his strikes on her much more often than the fumbling he was doing at the beginning. As he warmed up and suffered the mild knocks of corrective punishment he became much more fluid, pushing her stances back into more defensive postures.
And yet, unlike her and her astounding endurance, he was just a man- a highly athletic and trained one- but a man nonetheless. Droplets of sweat dripped off his brow, slicking his normally tousled bangs across his forehead in damp streaks, and he panted his breaths in and out softly. They had each long since shed their leather armor and outer shirts, leaving Demetri down to his fitted undershirt and Ra in her chest bindings.
Ra gave a pridefully smug smile at him from her spot leant against the opposite wall, her tail swishing contentedly as she adjusted the leather of her gloves. “You look tired~” She crooned in mocking sweetness.
He cracked a smirk at her, then rolled his eyes, dragging a dry rag across his forehead and gulping a swig of cool water down from a plastic bottle. “You put up one hell of a fight, kitten. Need’a second to catch my breath is all~”
“When you must constantly fight for your life, you learn how to give it your all.”
Demetri shrugged, quaffing another mouthful of water, “I cannot say I disagree with you on that.”
“You are a man who has had it rough.” She stated, more than asked, as if she had somehow deemed her assumption as unerring fact.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes dismissively. “Yeah. What clever criminal hasn’t had their fair share of lumps?”
“And what did he do to earn such high scorn from the last woman Fayez liked to compare this one to?” Straight to the point. Ruthlessly swift and efficient.
His composure faltered, darkening noticeably for just a moment, the corners of his lips twinging before he swallowed and regained his reaction. He’d had a gut instinct that she would have her questions about whatever those sharp ears overheard, and a part of him had been praying in the hopes that she would avoid bringing it up. In vain, of course. “Just a personal loose end I have yet to tie up. Nothing you need to be involved with.”
Ratima’s stare hardened, her brows drawing together as she crossed her arms over her chest. “If we are going to be running this guild together, it is important to know if one of us has a personal death mark out on their head.”
“That is no issue to me, I will not be using Guild resources, so it is none of your concern.”
The khajiit drew her lip up in a sneer, pushing off the wall to stride towards the door. She stopped just in front of him, to his right. Her piercing eyes bored up into his silver ones. Her hand cut quickly through the air, a single extended claw pointing to a dime-size patch of bare dark gray skin just left of her heart. One of many of her scars. “Ratima-dro is no traitor, Malius.” Her words hissed low in defiance of his cold expression. “She is not stupid. She has suffered her share.”
“Then you should understand why it is not your business.” He snarked as if it was plainly obvious, giving her a rather sardonic and insincere smile.
So much for learning to trust business partners. Ra thought as she shoved past him with an annoyed sounding huff to retrieve her belongings and get redressed in her ensemble. “Fine then, Shadow. Walk alone.” She spat as she pulled her mask back down over her face and disappeared from the room with nary a further noise.
Demetri stood alone in the stuffy, warm silence of the armory and ran a hand down his face, tugging gently at the chin of his thick, dark beard as he rested the other hand on his waist. He stared up at the ceiling and finally let out a looooong exhaaaale, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb.
He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to relax. A drink to clear his head.
