These Tangled Ties [Solo]

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Please identify your neighbourhood location in the Topic Tag: Arata, Deja Point, Hlunn, Cinnamon Hill, The Turtle, Nutmeg Hill, The Gripe, The Pipeworks, Carptown, Windward Market, and Three Flowers.

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Faizra pezre Taci
Posts: 41
Joined: Mon Jun 03, 2019 4:59 pm
Topics: 10
Race: Wick
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: moralhazard
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Mon Jul 01, 2019 9:43 am

Afternoon, Ophus 15, 2718
Windward Market
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Faizra and Emaan crouched in the alley, half-hidden behind a pile of crates, tight against the walls. Both had wrapped thin scarves around their faces for protection from the sandstorm; through hers, Faizra could see only the edges of shapes and the swirl of distant movement as sand scoured the streets. It was early for sandstorms, not yet Intas, but the winds whipping at the desert didn’t seem to care.

They had been there some time already; hard to tell how long, with the howling wind drowning out any sound other than the harsh rasp of Faizra’s own breath and the beating of her heart in her throat, and the thick sandy air nearly blotting out the sun.

“It’s slowin’,” Emaan said thickly through his scarf. Faizra’d gone out with him a few times before, either to work pickpocketing together or to search for water sources. Big wells were risky for street kids; too many guards and concerned citizens looking to keep you away. The secret spots hidden in the city for water were the lifeblood of its rats, whether animal, duri or wiki.

“Wait,” Faizra sat back on her haunches against the wall. The sand rasped against her skin; through the scarf it still felt like she was breathing it in.

“We can go now,” Emaan insisted. “Ent want t’ keep ioraboss waiting.”

If Faizra had had any moisture to spare, she might have risked a mouthful of sand to spit at the word. “‘E’s only Kofi,” she said instead.

“Iora’s a proper one,” Emaan shook his head. “I ent gon’ t’diss ‘im. You do as y’like.”

“Bhe,” Faizra looked away. “Wait a pina manna more.”

“Bhe,” Emaan grumbled, but he settled back into his crouch.

Only once Faizra was satisfied that the wind wouldn’t pick back up did she rise, smooth and even, tugging the scarf down from her eyes, leaving her mouth and nose covered, heaped sand tumbling from her pants. She glanced from side to side, cautious, then beckoned Emaan forward. Each picked up their turned over buckets again, Emaan digging his out of a pile of sand.

There was no one else at the basement when they arrived, the entrance half-covered by shifting sands. Someone’d figured out that there was a spot of access to some underground river in the corner of it, where once hard packed floor have crumbled away into a gaping hole. No well, but better maybe, since it seemed to run year round far as anyone could figure. Except, the last two days the kids who’d visited had found River Frogs there, two or three waiting for anyone to try and come.

Faizra extended a long arm into the corner, bucket clasped in her hand, and pulled it up full to the brim with water. She pushed it to Emaan, who wrapped the top closed quickly and efficiently even as Faizra went to dip the second bucket in.

“Yar’aka!” There was a clattering from the door way, two young men rushing in, both sandal-clad and dressed in white cloth.

“Ey you, this be River Frog territory,” the larger spat on the ground, taking out a knife and clutching it tightly in one hand.

Faizra set the bucket on the ground, half-rising to a low crouch, her eyes focused on the one with the knife.

“Maguala!” Emaan spat on the ground. “Flood the laoso river frogs!”

The two river frogs exchanged looks. Faizra’s hand slid slowly to beneath her shirt, wrapping around the handle of her knife. “Emaan, stay back,” she spat on the ground.

“Y’ gonna take us both, chip?” One taunted. The second laughed a little harder than the taunt deserved.

Faizra slid her knife out, hand right on the blade. “S’right,” she said, holding it comfortably in her hand, her grip fluid and easy.

The two rushed forward. Emaan, for all his bravado, hung back, hugging the wall of the basement.

Faizra didn’t hesitate, slipping beneath the first thrust of the knife. She kept her gaze on the shoulder and torso of the one who had it, grunting as the other’s fist bounced off her ribs.

The one with the knife lunged in again; Faizra ducked and weaved in close and slashed at him, opening a line of red that spilled over his white cloth, rapidly staining it.

The second boy was hitting her again. Faizra turned and thrust the knife out, and it sank into the hilt in his chest. He stumbled back, surprised, one hand reaching up to touch the hilt, and dropped.

The first boy screamed in rage and charged her again.

Faizra, knifeless, screamed back, a roar of monite that pushed him back, sending him skidding halfway across the room. Her glamour buzzed and hummed around her, a sudden headache a warning to be careful.

Faizra couldn’t wait for it to ease; she yanked her knife free from the now dead river frog, turning back just in time to parry a slice from his gangmate on her forearm, the blade leaving a shallow cut behind.

“Don’ make me kill y’ too,” Faizra said, voice low and hard.

The river frog hesitated, shaking - and pressed forward again. Faizra lunged back out of the way of his blade, and dragged hers deep across the muscle of his arm, cutting his bicep deep enough that he dropped the knife; it clattered, wet with Faizra’s blood to the floor.

“Run,” Faizra told him.

This time he listened; he turned and fled the basement, clattering away up the stairs.

“Benny!” Emaan came off the wall, grinning. “Y’ should’ve killed him though. Teach them river frogs who gets this spot.”

Faizra lowered her bloody knife; something, the throbbing in her head maybe, told her not to tell Emaan it was her first kill. Not the first she’d marked, but the first who’d never get up again. She tried not even to think on it. She grabbed a handful of the dead river frog’s shirt, wiping her knife clean on it. He had been alive moments earlier - Faizra pulled her mind away from the memory of how easily it had sunk into his chest, how he had reached for the handle of the knife as if it might help.

Faizra tasted the metallic tang of blood, and realized she had bit the inside of her cheek bloody. She spat on the ground, ripping off another swatch of the dead River Frog’s shirt to bind the cut on her arm. Emaan, hurriedly, finished filling their buckets. They left the body behind, small and curled against the floor in death.

“Why not kill ‘im?” Emaan asked, the two both struggling with the weight of their water as they took a circuitous, twisting route towards the squat.

“Ent needed to,” Faizra said, running her tongue over bloody teeth. “Don’t like to kill anyone, I ent need to.” Don’t like to kill anyone at all, she thought to herself.

Emaan spat. “We gotter cott all them river frogs. I’ll tell iora it weren’t yer fault he dusted.”

Faizra spat again, this time at the name. “Tell ‘im what you like. I ent hidin’.”

Emaan snorted. “Bhe,” he mumbled. “Maybe you ott’er.”

After they had left the water, after explanations were given, after Faizra had had a chance to rinse out the cut on her arm, after food and laughter and Kofi clasping her hand and giving her a look Faizra didn’t like to think on - after all that Faizra offered to take the watch outside. It was a frigid cold night but she didn’t mind the bite of it, crouched low on the roof of the warehouse and watching for any movement in the distant dark city.

Faizra’s head still ached, her arm too. She covered her face with one hand and prayed to Naulas for the boy whose body she had left behind, wondering if his antelife had yet begun, if this new life would be easier than the one she had cut short, the one that had ended in shock and pain. She added quick prayers to Hulali for easy fishing and smooth waters in the life to come, before looking back out at the city again. Tears on her cheeks stung in the cold whipping wind, and Faizra shifted, feeling the comforting weight of the knife against her back.

He would have done the same, she told herself, and wondered why it didn’t help. Unbidden she thought of Kofi, of the excitement in his eyes. Faizra pushed the thought away, all thoughts, and focused her gaze back on ground below. Got to keep watch, she reminded herself. Got to keep them all safe, this time.

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