timewasting | OPEN POST 2020.

It's been a slow process. There's two sitting on the council who seem to care, but they're outnumbered.

[ The shitty part of Kerch politics. Even with him throwing his weight behind certain policies, there's a careful balancing act on how much he can push without putting the Dregs at risk.

This, though, is tangible. Some place he can apply pressure. ] It's possible we can get Visser to straighten out over this. If he does, Teuling is likely to follow suit. He's practically attached to his heels.

[ That would swing the council into more favorable numbers. Four of seven. ]

[ politics is frustrating, particularly when things should change now. and inej isn't entirely convinced that anyone on the council really cares. if they cared, they would throw more of a fit to change it.

but kaz has the patience for things like this. politics, that is. whereas inej does not. she supposes that's why he's got an iron grip on the barrel and she's the ghost in the dark, and not the other way around. so she listens to him explain, humming to herself in thought before she glances toward the window.

thinking. thinking . . . ]

So I'll keep tabs on his outings on my way home, from now on.

[ to see what, exactly, what other dirt she can find. and a visit to the white rose is in order, to figure out how to get mila de jong to spill details on councilman visser. that part would probably be more fruitful. ]

Something will spill, eventually.

[ He knows she's frustrated by that answer. Because things should have been better. Should be better, in general. Especially with how long they've been making their own contributions behind the scenes to clean up the city.

The problem is they've had to work up from the very bottom. And there'd been a lot of corruption to work through. There still is, but it's a different game now. The council cannot ignore either of them, now that their power structure has made its way out of the Barrel. Kaz has eyes and ears basically everywhere and that has expanded with Inej staying in town.

And since the council can't ignore them, the larger portion of them are doing their best to curtail his operations where they can. ]

I'll visit the madames to see if I can get any information that way.

[ For some reason, they let him in the front. ] It always spills. Just might take some time.

[ her lips curve upward a bit, at the news of kaz visiting west stave, and she turns her attention back to the oven, to remove the now finished pies. they smell good . . . so perhaps the chef in the market wasn't lying after all, about the best pies in ketterdam.

but as she sets them on the countertop to cool, she says, amused: ]

They love seeing you.

[ wryly, as she folds up the towel she used to remove the pan from the oven, laying it on the countertop. ]

They talk about Kaz Brekker for days, after you pay a visit.

[ mostly positive! mostly. a bit of complaining that he doesn't spend any money there. and inej knows for a fact that some of the girls at the white rose find kaz handsome (albeit frightening). which is par for the course, for most men in the barrel.

the best part is that inej doesn't even need to ask, to invite such conversation. they're just eager to tell her when he visits. men who visit the pleasure houses without partaking are whispered about easily, and honestly, the bar is pretty low, for gentlemen in the barrel. kaz brekker is probably the closest thing to it. saints help them all. ]

What?

[ Well, he supposes he's mostly someone good to see, in the houses. He's never there as a customer and he's helped more than a few of them out of bad situations.

Still, he has a specific reputation. One that usually has people crossing the other side of the street. Or trying not to meet his eyes, their steps speeding up. ]

Why? [ What in Kerch would they have to say? ]

Well, the madames hope you’re there to spend money. And you’re a good person to know in the city, obviously, but they want you as a customer.

[ mildly, as she opens a drawer to pull out a few forks and knives, along with fetching some plates to put the pies on. ]

But you have a small following of girls at the White Rose who think you are absolutely handsome. [ and she sounds downright amused at this part, putting the plates on a tray to bring to the dining room. ] They ask me about you every time I’m within earshot of their rooms.

[ inej doesn’t necessarily discourage them but also gently lets them know to leave him alone when he visits the white rose. ]

[ Her first point just makes sense. Well, mostly. Any madame is going to expect that if a man visits the establishment, they're there to spend money. What doesn't match up is the lack of apparent logic. Or perhaps there's some wishful thinking– Kaz has never visited the houses for any other reason than for business.

And he's been visiting for a number of years now. He would've figured they'd given up on the possibility that he'd ever come for another reason.

That next point, though: ] What?

[ His brow furrows, clearly not sure what to make of this news. Walking down the streets, he's had the compliment called out to him, but usually from one of the callers sitting outside of the houses, attempting to tempt him to come in. A sales pitch.

It's a very different thing to hear it spoken so plainly.

He follows her into the dining room, pulling her chair out. A habit, at this point. ]

[ she sets down the tray to divvy up food, and takes the seat that Kaz pulls out for her, sitting cross legged in the chair, tucking her feet underneath her as she grins, at Kaz’s reaction. and she waits until he sits down before she says: ]

They ask when you are visiting next.

[ as she carefully prods the piping hot pie, letting the steam out. ]

I think they’re very charmed by your exploits.

[ running Pekka Rollins out of business meant another slaver out of the west stave and the barrel, which made some of the girls very happy. And while no one knows what causes that random plague, they do know Kaz seized power after Pekka left. And Kaz brekker is a far better friend to them than Pekka ever was. ]

[ Kaz takes a seat after she's all settled, mirroring her motion and poking at the food to let some of the heat out. ]

Charmed. [ He says, still baffled by this entire conversation. None of his activities could be considered in the realm of charming. At least, not in the traditional sense. The only skill he has that comes close is probably his sleight of hand; he'd gotten the hang of the trick of pulling a coin from behind someone's ear.

Everything else was more of the violent persuasion. Though, he had eradicated Pekka from the picture, as well as Heleen– for the most part– which had been a relief to a great many of the girls who ever had to deal with either of them. ]

I suppose as long as it doesn't get in the way of information...

You got rid of two of the biggest slavers in West Stave.

[ as she carefully extracts a piece of her pie, letting it cool on her fork. now that heleen and pekka are gone, the girls have a much better choice in what they do for work. the white rose has its problems, but their employment contracts are fair. nothing like the "indenture" (read: slavery) that pekka and heleen employed. ]

They would tell you everything that happened in the White Rose from top to bottom if you asked.

[ and they volunteer. frequently.

inej just has them tell her and she promises to pass it on to kaz (which she typically does, if kaz asks what she did that day). ]

Alright, that makes a bit more sense.

[ At least he can understand that reasoning. Though it's still strange, to be thought of in such a way. He doesn't have any personal experience to compare it to—Per Haskell had welcomed him into the Dregs, but he'd only done it after he had proven himself in some way. And then every single step on the ladder up had been a result of hard work, outwitting the rest and trying to stay three paces ahead.

He also supposes if someone had taken out Pekka before he got to him, he would've been upset rather than grateful. But his revenge had been based on a very different set of circumstances. Someone like Inej wouldn't have suffered nearly as long if someone had done the West Stave a favor and gotten rid of Heleen earlier on. ]

Think it would cause too much commotion if I asked? [ Because now he's just curious, as he cuts through a piece of the pie with the side of his fork, letting it cool for a second. ]

Do not break their hearts.

[ as she pops the first piece of the pie into her mouth, savoring the taste for a moment before swallowing, settling back into her chair as she eyes him.

kaz is always nothing but kind to the workers in the pleasure houses. which says a lot, considering kaz brekker really isn't kind to a lot of people, aside from the handful of people he's deemed friends (and even then, kindness really isn't something that you expect on the day-to-day, with kaz) or . . . well, herself.

in fact, inej is pretty sure she is the only person in all of ketterdam who gets to experience kaz's kindness on a daily basis.

the problem is that the sex workers of ketterdam really don't meet a lot of kind men, so the kind ones tend to stick out. and the kind ones are the ones that they need to ensnare, because that is usually their ticket out of the pleasure houses into something a bit more bearable.

(inej had to correct, very quickly, that that was not the case with herself and kaz. even if it sort of was. but not like that.) ]

But I'm certain they would tell you whatever you wanted to know, if you asked.

I won't do it on purpose.

[ No guarantees on anything accidental. It's not like he can read their minds. Most of the time he barely even recognizes when someone is actively attempting to flirt with him. Much to Inej's amusement over the last few years.

He takes a bite of his food, thinking about the last such time. They'd gone for lunch and apparently the waitress had spent a better part of it trying for his attention. His mind had gone immediately to her wanting something—business related, most likely. At the end, she'd left him her work schedule on a folded slip of paper, a lipstick mark on the outside of it. That was about the point it sunk in.

It's entirely possible visiting the girls would garner a similar action. But surely they know he's with Inej? Perhaps it's too hopeful to think they do, it's not like him and Inej are very open about their relationship, even if they've been together for a while. ]

Don't they do the same for you?

[ watching that poor waitress try her best to catch his attention had been both hilarious and sad. mostly because inej had been sitting right there, and clearly the waitress had no idea they were together. inej herself hadn't been bothered, but kaz had spent the better part of their walk home (mildly) indignant that people don't see them as together while they're . . . well, together.

inej had simply nodded along while they walked, which didn't really help.

at any rate: ]

They do, but I ask different questions than you would.

[ with a shrug. inej is less interested in money and sway, in the barrel, than where the slavers sell their stock. and the girls tell inej about difficult johns or when new girls come in the door, but inej doesn't ask about political whereabouts or high-powered men. that's more kaz's area of interest, than hers.

the men who use the pleasure houses are all the same, to inej. trash and scum, most of them. where they work is hardly of interest . . . unless it has the potential to ruin the mercher's council, anyway. ]

You also have a different reputation, than I do.

[ kaz, by far, commands more respect in ketterdam than inej. most people still recognize her as his favorite weapon. inej is fairly certain most of the barrel thinks the wraith is really kaz's ship and inej is his puppet, and inej isn't too concerned to correct them. it doesn't really matter, to her, whether she gets credit for her work. it just matters that it gets done. ]

[ That much is certainly true– Inej has a different focus, even if their goals occasionally line up. She's out to eradicate the slavers from existence. Or at the very least, winnow down how many were out there and still operational.

Meanwhile, he's approaching a similar goal but from a more political side. Because that's what he's good at, knowing the ins and outs of Kerch's messy system. All the contracts, how to exploit a loophole, when to apply pressure to someone on the fence.

His questions would definitely be a different sort, looking for any bit of leverage on the politically powerful. ]

Is it so different? You still frighten people when you walk down the street.

[ He's aware there's a distinction: she's the Wraith, a long time extension of his own machinations in the Barrel. But she's been on her own for enough years that some of that association has to have shaken off, right?

Or maybe he'd adjusted the fastest, despite the difficulty in doing so. Once he'd bought her contract, he'd known she wasn't going to stay. That she was going to forge her own path, chase the dream she'd mentioned a handful of times– her own ship, an open ocean, and no one standing between her and the people that brought her to Ketterdam. ]

That is not the same.

[ with a shrug, as she takes another bite of her pie. ]

People see us together in the city and make assumptions. [ that kaz brekker’s wraith has come back to his side, and they were ready to wreak havoc on ketterdam. which isn’t necessarily untrue. she doesn’t have a contract or a debt anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that if kaz needs her, she is there. ] I don’t bother to correct them.

[ and she fishes out another piece of pie. ]

Only the slavers who work West Stave hate me in particular. Everyone else is still afraid of you.

[ Ah. So yes, they still consider the Wraith to be with him, in some way. She wasn't in the employ of the Dregs, but she did occasionally help out. Which meant clearly they kept up the association.

It seemed like they'd never be completely separated on the business front. Not that it particularly bothers him. ]

Ousting Pekka did most of that work. [ He finishes off his piece of pie, fastidiously gathering the crumbled bits with his fork. ] They don't know the whole story but they know enough. Or they've made up their own versions.

[ Either way, it's worked in his favor. And maybe he's encouraged specific stories to circulate. ]

It would be easier for those slavers if they just gave up at this point. [ Wouldn't that be nice? They're a stubborn and vile lot, though, and it would take more than a simple rumor that the Wraith was going to nip at their heels for them to give in. Even if she weren't as successful as she was, he'd be proud of her for making the attempt. It's difficult, taxing work, with slavers inventing new ways to get around dealing with her. ]

[ she hums in agreement, at the last bit. it would be easier for them if they quit ... but inej wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. and as she finishes her pie, she sets down her fork, watching him thoughtfully.

her own place in the city is still being forged, but inej doesn’t mind, really, being associated. it just means that whenever people consider attempting to harm kaz, they have to figure out how to get through her, first. and vice verse, really. they keep each other safe, and inej isn’t too concerned about letting anybody think otherwise anytime soon.

so she gets to her feet to circle the table, gently circling her arms around his shoulders from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. contemplative. ]

Do you still want your present?

[ it’s a genuine question, because he had had difficulty with his demons, earlier. if he just wants to go to sleep and cuddle, she doesn’t really blame him. ]

[ He sees her get up but doesn't quite pay attention, thinking she's just about to put her plate away. Instead, her arms loop around his shoulders and he quirks a smile, tilting his head a fraction to address her. ]

Of course.

[ His curiosity piques again, knowing whatever it was, it would beat out his imagination. As her surprises tended to do. He reaches up to run his fingers along her forearm and takes hold of her hand gently, pressing his cheek to the back of it. ]

I can clean up here.

[ well. he seems to be fine, especially as he takes her hand and presses it to his cheek. he doesn’t feel anxious or tense or stressed—the opposite, really. he seems to be pretty relaxed, underneath her arms, which reassures inej that whatever bothered him earlier is truly gone.

( inej and kaz both have learned the hard way that when either of them says “I’m fine,” it’s probably worth another look. )

so she squeezes him gently before unwrapping her arms from around him, though she does dip down to kiss his cheek before properly separating herself from him. ]

It is my turn to wash the dishes, so just leave them in the sink.

[ he hates doing it anyway. and even if he ignores her, she’ll just pay extra attention to his reactions tonight. just in case. and with that, she leaves to go change.

she had deliberately picked something that was far removed from the menagerie. she never wore black or lace or anything like this, instead forced to dress up in some bastardization of her culture that heleen thought was appropriate. but as inej takes the time to change in their bathroom and undo her hair, she’s struck by the fact that she looks like . . . Well, herself, in the long sheer robe and lace underthings and stockings. not a caricature, but inej.

that’s enough to squash any anxiety or misgivings, as she shakes out her hair, frowning to herself in thought in the mirror. she’s always really had difficulty seeing herself as attractive, though she knows people see her like that. or, at least, kaz does. Which is really all that matters anyway.

still, she waits, not really wanting to just be sitting on the bed when he gets back, brushing out her hair (uselessly) until she hears him come back in. ]

[ She kisses his cheek and his smile lingers, feeling that small spark of happiness that such things have become so casual. And then she heads off to the bedroom, presumably to change or unbraid her hair. Or whatever it is she's going to do.

In the meantime, he gathers up their plates and silverware, as well as the dinner leftovers. The pie is wrapped back in its packaging and put away. And while she had told him to leave the dishes, he ends up doing them. They're scraped pretty clean so he doesn't have to worry about strange textures making his skin crawl. He sets them out on the drying rack and dries his hands off thoroughly, not wanting to touch Inej with damp fingers.

(Once, he's done that once. Never again).

Soon enough, he heads towards the bedroom, setting his cane aside and then putting his vest and tie away. Untucking his shirt, he sits on the bed and leans back against the pillows, letting out a long sigh. ]

[ she's beginning to realize she really has no exit strategy if this goes horribly wrong. but, you know. that's how most of these things are. besides, it's not as if this is new. she's wearing clothes, just . . . different ones.

she is overthinking it, inej decides, as she frowns to herself in the mirror. the long sheer robe covers most of her body. she still has control over when it comes off and on. and if anything bothers her, she can always just stop it.

so eventually, she peers into the bedroom to see kaz relaxing on the bed, relatively relaxed. and she steels her nerve with a quiet inhale before moving into the room, leaning over him slightly with arched eyebrows.

. . . and then slightly narrowed eyes as she scans him once more, to see his sleeves are rolled up, tiny (almost imperceptible) flicks of dampness on his shirt. backsplash from washing a plate, probably. all signs pointing to the fact that: ]

You washed the dishes.

[ rude. ]

[ As usual, his mind floats to some kind of scheme in the interim. This time, it's organizing his thoughts about Visser; what he knows and what he's going to need to know. What he can use for leverage and where to start if he doesn't have quite enough. It needs to be as airtight as possible. He doesn't want the councilman to squirm away somehow.

Of course, all of those thoughts get put out of mind when he sees Inej step out of the bathroom. Clad in—what is that, lace? His gaze is intent as she walks over, watching the delicate swish of fabric along her legs.

And, uh. Right. Dishes? He'd put those out of his head almost immediately. ]

I figured you needed time, it didn't bother me. [ He says distractedly, reaching over to touch the edge of the robe, the backs of his fingers brushing her thigh. The stitching is soft and he bites the inside of his cheek, momentarily resisting the urge to touch anywhere else. Because seriously, holy shit. ]

You—this looks good. [ More than, really. ]

[ ... well, it hasn’t backfired. but there’s still the matter of: ]

I told you it was my turn.

[ it’s more gentle chiding than anything else, as she moves closer, to gently take his face in her hands, frowning to herself. but her (admittedly mild) annoyance melts into a slight grin, running her thumbs over his cheeks. ]

I thought the color was nice.

[ black, that is. ]

It's usually your turn. [ They've struck a balance, mostly. She washes them off and he dries them to be put away. Occasionally—like today—he'll take up her part when he thinks it'll be safe. Usually when the plates are mostly clean to begin with.

But whatever, there's other more important things taking up his attention. ]

You were right. It's very— [ His gaze sweeps down and back up, as he settles a hand on her waist. The lace has warmed through, keeping him from making complete contact with her skin. Which is somehow even more tempting than usual, the cut of the garment accentuating her curves well. ] —dramatic.

[ There are some other words that come to mind, but he's still processing all of this. Sitting up, he tugs her down for a kiss, palm slowly running down her side, feeling out the stitched patterns. ]

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