52 replies to this topic

[Liss]

Liss sat on what she liked to call the 'back yard' of the brothel. It was really just the doorstep that lead into a dirty alleyway behind the building. She liked to sit out here for multiple reasons, but this time she was watching for small animals. She was bored. She was a little worried about her dress, but she could always change. More worrying to her was the blood if she did manage to catch an animal.

She pushed those worries to the back of her mind and continued watching the alleyway, listening to the sounds behind the door as well. It was interesting, being part of the rebellion. She'd only been here for a year, but it felt like no time at all. She did miss Della, but here no one worried to much about her...oddities, and there were those allomancers? Was that the word? They were interesting, and they made her think. She mentally searched for the trigger that made that warmth, and the lines. Was that Allomancy too? Was she just like them? The trigger, or the cache that was sometimes there was gone. Still, she wondered.

The more she thought about it the less she thought it was likely. None of them got the same pleasure she did from hurting people, and they didn't lose control as much either. Unless they were all being subdued, or was it soothed? She hated all the terms.

Liss sighed and stood. She knew she should get back inside, and she doubted that she'd find any small animals. That disappointed her, but she tried not to dwell on it. She smoothed the front of her dress and forced herself to stop thinking about Allomancy as she opened the door and stepped back inside.

[Ricket]

Normally, the thumping sound of wood on the road was slow, even, almost slovenly in it's easy pace up the road. But this time, there was a hurried tone to it, almost a panicked tone to accentuate the clear concern which the person who rode upon the peg leg wore. He needed to dash somewhere indoors, to disappear, quicker than he could possibly manage, in his own mind. Though reality was far different from imagination, in his mind's eye, the whole Steel Ministry was going to hunt him, and the Lord Ruler himself was going to come down in a flash of lightning and disintegrate him with his divine powers.

Though his chest was heaving from all the efforts of his haste, Ricket still considered himself to look relatively inconspicuous, quite calm, even. The only concern he really faced was getting to the cell in a timely fashion, and even then, he didn't see anyone following him. Nobody was around, (except the phantom shadows of obligators and inquisitors) so he could safely visit this place which had apparently for so long been a refuge for others. Normally, he didn't visit such places, except for the occasional hand-off of goods and supplies, but this time he felt as though the deepness were nipping at his heel, and had no intention of turning back to fight it.

By the time he reached the back door, sweat was pouring down his face, and it added a lovely fresh layer to the pungent odor of labor and filth which permeated his being. Even his boot was still flaked with mud, and the scene presented to an outsider would likely be that of either the best disguised noble visiting his favorite brothel... or the saddest being to enter it for another reason.

The boatman had no intentions upon the women within; his designs were entirely for his own safety. In fact, he was loathe to come to this establishment, if not for the fact that it was the closest place of refuge. Of course, they could all be lyin', in which case I'm a corpse. But if they were lyin', they'd have turned me in sooner... right? Chasing thoughts of being hunted and betrayal from his mind, he pounded heavily on the doorframe. The building was solidly-made, for whatever flaws were contained within, but Ricket knew better than to simply waltz in from the back door. He was no paying customer, he was a man seeking sanctuary.

[Liss]

Liss swung around and wished that she had a knife. People didn't come to the back door, and to pound on the door like that? Either something was wrong, or whoever was out there was trying to make them think exactly that. She walked back to the door, set a stance that was not unlike how she usually stood, but was more grounded, ignoring the slight ash-stains on her dress. It wasn't one of her important working dresses. She never wore those outside unless she was going somewhere.

Liss pulled the door open and wrinkled her nose. The man on the other side was not at all what she was used to anymore. "What do you want?" She asked, warmly. She was used to being nice to people, and he did look scared.

[Ricket]

Code words were really, really inconvenient when you just needed to get inside, and get safe. But at the same time, it helped to have some sort of guarantee that you wouldn't be followed, or exposed to the outside world. Now, if only he could keep from panicking for long enough to get his thoughts out, to remember what he was supposed to say. "The ash..." Great. Two words down... just needed to actually get the rest of it out. He darted a glance down the alleyway and hoped against hope to not see anyone there. Still empty, of course, but he could hardly look up to the roofs and sky and not expect to see those tattooed eyes staring down at him.

Of course, someone who had actually been at the docks might have told him not to flatter himself. He was far from a valuable target, and hardly worth picking up, as far as any external sources were concerned. But he was still pretty certain that certain death was on the agenda today, so he frantically went over the phrase he was supposed to have memorized. "The--the ash falls deep in the corners today!" Hopefully it was close, at the very least. He might have had a poor memory for such things, but really, he'd never thought there would be a reason to use it. He was a good little skaa, one who didn't need to ever be worried about the ministry. He wasn't an allomancer, or a fighter at all. Was it really all that bad that he happened to deliver certain contraband goods? It was just helping out, not hurting anyone! Still, right now he wanted inside, and inside quickly.

The bitter irony of it all, was that a brothel was the last place in the city he'd consider visiting by choice. Perhaps his own inhibitions about the natures of the employees within accentuated his stress, but he didn't know how to get rid of them. Ironically, it just wasn't a 'clean' place, in his mind. It was a dangerous place, and he felt certain he'd lose his precious stash of five full clips to these floozies.

[Liss]

Liss arched an eyebrow. She recognized the phrase, though she could never remember things like that. Those parts of the rebellion confused her. Was this guy really one of them? He obviously wasn't there for pleasure. She stepped aside. "Come in." I think. Half of her was convinced that this guy was a spy or something. That half was also excited. If he was a spy, he'd probably have to die.

"What's wrong?" She said, her eyebrow still raised.

[Ricket]

What's wrong? He repeated the phrase over in his head, What's wrong?.... Oh, nothing much, just my impending doom, nothing to be too worried about. Except for himself, of course; his own impending doom happened to be something he was quite worried about. "Look, at the docks... ministry... it's all too much. I didn't get close. Too dangerous." He still was catching his breath, but really, that was about all he knew.

Disjointed little segments of a event he didn't fully understand, but one which panicked him nonetheless. Generally those who understood the Ministry best only did so for a brief period of time; so the stories went. Who really spent time among those people without suffering in the process? It seemed logical: see one obligator, no worries, just a routine check-up. See many obligators? Panic. Panic, flee, and expect to die at any moment. There is no logical reason for any one skaa to deal with multiple obligators, so it's probably best to fake your death and move underground to subsist entirely upon insects, rather than risk being discovered. Even if they're insects native to a brothel.

He was still looking around frantically for some sort of hiding place, and even glancing over the business apparel of the workers here didn't seem to phase him. "Look, I'm rusted certain they're coming, and I really want to keep my insides... inside." The stress, while incredible, was still being somewhat managed by reason, and he'd yet to completely succumb to screaming in terror. Or was that just one of those 'rioters' trying to make me feel that way? Are they on to me? They have to be. And yet, he held on to some slim hope that if he could get underground, it would somehow stop the magic. Like hiding from the mists, he thought that indoors was a safe haven, a place of rest. He just wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

[Liss]

"You mean you think you led the ministry here?" Liss said, her eyebrow going up further. She hated the ministry. They were even more evil than the nobles. She hated them and their stupid, evil theology and...She could feel herself losing control. Much as she would have loved to tear the man apart for reminding her of her hatred, she had to keep calm. He was on their side, apparently, and there was always the possibility that she would get to kill him anyways.

"Perhaps I should go get someone else?"

[Ricket]

Led them here? They were already here? Behind the dirt and mud, the matted hair and beard, there was still a visible paling as he considered that it might have been too little, too late. "You mean they're here already?" In his mind, he'd just stepped into a trap, just caught himself within all of the rebellion and all of the idea of himself as person was collapsing around him. If they're already here... then I'm still just a tool, and the thought of being more was just a wraith in the mists.

The concept was crushing, effectively grinding his mental processes to a halt. If they were already here, then the point was moot, nothing mattered. He just needed to forget everything he knew and hopefully die without too much suffering. It would be the easiest way to deal with this all; and it provided him with a bit of a reverie as he contemplated his own imminent destruction. "Well, if they're here already, I'm dead, so... who would I want to see anyway?" Perhaps not the wisest way to phrase things, but Ricket never claimed to be smart. He only claimed to be a boatman. And that, at the very least, was no longer going to be true.

He'd made a point of keeping from these houses of ill-repute, a point of keeping his savings for his family, but now, if word ever got back to home about his late fate, not only would his family have the shame of a rebel, but all of his talk of being firm and dedicated to the family alone would mean nothing, for he'd have been caught in a brothel. It was a situation which might have struck a more clever person as ironic, but Ricket just prepared to accept his fate, and hoped he'd be strong enough to keep quiet.

[Liss]

Liss rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, no, no. I don't mean that." She said, wondering if this person was stupid or something. She thought that she had made it quite clear. But she smiled anyways. He did look scared, and she wasn't exactly totally relaxed. "They aren't here, but if you think that they're following you, you might want to talk to someone else. I don't really know much about what to do in this situation."

She was being deliberately vague. She was bad at figuring out if someone was lying, and so wanted to get someone else to come make sure that this guy wasn't lying about his predicament.

[Ricket]

Nodding quickly, it was a relief to see someone smiling. I mean, even if it was her job, at least she wasn't an obligator. She was too young, for one thing, and still had her hair. Hair is always a good sign. Having hair means people are good. He started to relax, and then realized that there was still those people, like the nobles, with the fake hair. It could come off, it could be used for someone to be a spy! He needed to know for certain that she wasn't one of them, but... he also couldn't just saunter over and yank her hair. That would get him launched to the curb faster than the mists would eat people up!

He wasn't much of a thinker, but he came up with something he considered to be an acceptable plan. "Yes, someone more would be good. Just, y'know, to be safe.... could you... pull your hair off?" He motioned to what he meant to do, taking one of his own messy locks and yanking hard up into the air until he had a few strands: solid evidence he wasn't one of them. Granted, it was only by his system, and though it made sense in his own mind, obviously to an outsider it would be rather odd, and possibly an indication that he was either blasted out of his wits on drink or streetspice. Neither was true in this case; but it didn't keep paranoia from having practically the same effect.

[Liss]

Liss was astonished and rather offended. "What? I'm not one of them if that's what you're thinking. Really, it should be me who's asking if you're a spy." She had to work harder to keep herself calm. The more this guy talked the more she wanted to break something. "And honestly, if I was wearing fake hair, how do you think it would ever stay on?"

[Ricket]

He hadn't considered the fact that it had to be stuck on somehow. If she was going to be a spy, she wouldn't be revealing her secrets, right? But later on, he'd have to figure out a way to check if hair was real. It could be the secret to saving the rebellion, knowing who had hair and who was bald. He just needed to think more on it. "Well... but I ain't no spy." Simple though he was, he figured it could be abundantly clear that he wasn't one of the enemy, if he was running away from them. "I swear by my foot I ain't." He suddenly realized his own weakness; he couldn't know who a spy was, so he also couldn't tell who a spy wasn't. He couldn't prove his own innocence because he didn't know how to define it.

The simple fact was that people were good or they weren't. He knew he wasn't a spy, so... that should be good enough, right? I mean, what kind of person would lie about something as important as that? If you couldn't be trusted to tell the truth about the important things, why would you be trusted with the little things? Still, it was a bit of a mire. He never had gone through the trouble of getting to know the actual rebel cell here, because he never cared to visit places... like this. He thought it was a good thing, because he was being good and secretive, but now, he was condemned by his own secrecy. A nasty little cycle, but he didn't really see any way out of it. His job wasn't to make plans, just to follow them. And right now he was trying to do both, but mostly not die.

[Liss]

"Your foot? Which means that if you are lying I can take it off your person? Wonderful." Liss said, smiling at him. She was still a little offended, but she was genuinely intrigued that he would sacrifice his foot to her. "You can come farther in, if you like. If you are telling the truth, you don't have to stand around back here."

[Ricket]

The convenient thing Ricket had learned about swearing, was that you never had to worry about the consequences of lying... so long as you just told the truth. He didn't have to worry about losing his foot, simply because he knew he wasn't a spy. He could have sworn by both of his eyes, too, but... that would have been scary. Besides, the way she reacted seemed very odd. Why would she want my foot, anyhows?

But that had to take a back seat to the important matters. First, he needed to set down some rules. "I'm not here for anything but a place to hide. I don't want any of you folks eying my clips." Brothels were so foreign to him, (as was wealth in general) that he didn't realize that five clips amounted to a whole pile of nothing in this world. To him, it was food for hungry mouths, it was a source of life and love for his family, and it was something that (despite his inability to return home soon, it seemed) he needed to treasure and save, until they could be delivered properly. He'd live on rats and gruel if he needed to, so long as his little brothers and sisters were cared for. He was a rebel, but before that he was a brother; no gods or magistrates could change that, in his mind.

"But I'll come in, I just wanted to have that understandin' that I have no... other ideas but gettin' safe." He knew what these places were for, and typically, it wasn't hiding people for free. The types who entered only came out with significantly lighter purses, if his boatmates were any indication of how the rest of the world worked. He figured it was a shame, to have so many people losing out on being able to make their own stable families. Still, he didn't know much about the practice, so maybe there was something about it he didn't understand. That much he could believe.

Edited by Chautauquan, 20 February 2014 - 05:29 AM.

[Liss]

Liss laughed out loud, but not maliciously. "If the state of your person says anything about the state of your purse, you probably couldn't afford anyone. Unless you are richer than you look, of course." She smiled at him and waved towards the door to the main room. "I am sure that you will be able to hide somehow without having to buy our services. Of course, if you can pay, I can't say if we would turn you away or not...I'm not sure of the procedure for fellow rebels."

[Ricket]

Well, if he couldn't afford anything, then... he had nothing to fear, right? Normally, one would consider such an insult, but in his case, if being poor meant being safe, he'd rather be poor and know that he'd stay just as poor as he started out! With a big grin, he nodded, "Well, I'm probably not wealthy enough to afford any.... well, I ain't here on business, never will be, likely." Somehow, just hearing the laughter was enough to put him at ease. Obligators didn't laugh; people who were lying didn't laugh. It just wouldn't be natural for them. Lying is hard work, it takes thinking and trying to really make it happen. But telling the truth was easy; it left room for laughter.

"I can't and won't pay, sorry. I have kin to feed back home, and I reckon they need food more than I need--" He recognized at this point that he was getting himself stuck in an awkward position. He couldn't rightly just call them 'working for fun' now, could he? Perhaps this was how they fed their families, did what they could to survive. He was trying to send money home so his own sisters wouldn't need to risk going to such places. "That is--I just--" He hobbled over, blushing sheepishly. "I don't mean no disrespect. I just need to think of my own family first, is all. That's what I mean to say."

Hopefully the girl wouldn't be horribly offended; he might not frequent such places, but he recognized folks being caught in a nasty business were inclined to be perhaps a bit sensitive about such matters. He shouldn't be seeking ways to drive a wedge in the relationship here, just the opposite. He needed to hide now, but he also needed to make certain he could be trusted himself, and a sour fellow who cared none for those around him made for a bad person. Doing the hard things, making an effort to help, that was how to be good.

[Liss]

Liss laughed again. She was used to men, but usually the men who came here weren't as awkward. "You have a family?" She asked, only half glad that the subject was now slightly safer. Less triggers if the conversation stayed on families and skaa, but less fun as well. "I don't, but that don't mean that nobody does. Tell me about them! Perhaps it will keep your mind off of your current problem. It happens to be the only way that I can really keep you distracted at the moment."

[Ricket]

That did manage to keep his good humor flowing. "Well, I mean, I ain't got a family neither by what you're meanin', I suppose. No children, no wife. But I've got a whole bunch of brothers and sisters." If the smart girl had known anything about Ricket or at least known his friends, she'd have known it was time to stop him there, keep him from spoiling everything by yammering on. "But they are the sweetest folk you'll ever meet."

He inhaled deeply, as if he were some great person of value about to give a speech on world peace or ending hunger or something like that... really, he just liked to boast a bit, talk about how surely there could be no happier people than his family, because of their own strengths and ties to one another. "Well, Wick, see, he's about two years younger 'n me. He, like me, works with the boats, but he's more of the one who loads 'em up and unloads 'em when we get back. He's big, strong, a real looker too. Not like me, he makes sure to take care of himself, and the nobles seem to not get mad at him much. He's a good worker. And then there's Becc. Why, she can fix just about any tear. Perhaps she ain't no fancy artist like--"

He wanted to say 'like Lan', but the reminder that all of the cells remain separate from one another flashed in his mind, that little warning flicker which hopefully would keep him out of trouble. "Like some of those that make those fine dresses like you wear, but, she can fix 'em, at least. Cal and Lennie, they're the twins. They work together, always always; in mischief or in labor, they stick together through and through." His eyes were practically sparkling as he continued on, extolling the virtues of each sibling as if they were a grand hero of old, or some beautiful rarity which had no equal in all the Empire. It was for the most mundane of things, too. For mending pots or dodging rocks or being able to snag rats and cook them in a stew. All seemed to be possessed with some great talent in his mind, right until he got to the end of his list.

Then he had to pause, and clear his throat a bit. He still spoke fondly, but there was almost a sort of reverence to his tone as he finished up. "Little Ellie, though... she--she's our pride and joy." He sort of wiped at his nose a bit, before adding, "She's not little for being youngest, just always been small. Sick too, but... I tell you, you've never seen a better smile. Not never nowheres." He continued smiling, and patted his tiny little purse. "Well, that's who my clips are for. I try to save up to get her somethin' healthy, now and then. Seems to get her to grow bigger, walk and talk a bit more. 'Swhy I don't mean to offend none when I say I need it for my family."

Already, he felt entirely different from the shaking, stammering man who had pounded on the back door feeling like the deepness was already swallowing him. Now, he felt as he had when they'd patched him up after his big accident. He was a person. Someone with desires and passions and loves all of his own. "So... that's my family. What about yours?" Common though it was, he simply never wished to believe that someone was totally alone, or an orphan.

[Liss]

Liss smiled as he talked. She was used to people over-sharing with her. She didn't know why, but she apparently made people comfortable, and she doubted that it was only from the cut of her dress. She listened, watching the man grow even more comfortable the more he talked.

Then he mentioned her family and her face grew dark, only for the slightest moment. She could control her rages before they started. She'd had to learn to keep control so that she could work, and he hadn't mentioned anything specific. She considered seeing if there was one of those allomancer people around to help her stay calm, but decided that it was just best to try to change the subject. "I'd rather not talk about my family." She said, her smile back. It was not as relaxed, but it was something. Surely this man understood that not everyone had a wonderful family life.

[Ricket]

While he understood family wasn't always a happy subject, it still pained Ricket to think even the talking about it might hurt someone. He thumped along behind, wondering how best to react to this situation. Perhaps he wasn't the brightest torch of the lot, but he could see when things were going south. He scratched at the back of his head for a bit, wiping his hand on his trousers when he finished, before finally realizing he didn't know what to say at all. He was at a loss for words, stumped by an inability to continue down a path he figured would only lead to more pain. That wasn't anything he wanted to do to a person. Pain was part of life, sure, but one which was good to be avoided whenever possible. And doling it out? No sir, not in his wildest dreams. He understood how valuable it was to endure pain well, but that didn't mean there was any point in giving other people practice in it.

"Well, what would you rather talk about?" He tried to be quiet and gentle, recognizing that his raucous river-manners might have little place among the laces and frills of this particular establishment. He liked to talk, of course, and so did many others. In this case, it was talking which seemed to keep his mind from the terrors of what existed just outside, and what kept his eyes focused on the proper place for another. He intended to give full respect to these people, even if he disagreed with their practice. In his mind, that meant looking them in the eyes. They weren't like obligators, where he needed to look down and away; but they were like his sisters, or his mother. They deserved a degree of respect.