bound.

[wraithes]

Comments

fights.

[wraithes]

[ it had been a week, in the slat. a week since leaving the menagerie, since following kaz brekker further into the barrel and being given a brief tour of her new home. she hadn't said a word to anyone, including kaz brekker, since arriving in the dreg's stronghold.

it still felt like a dream, being here. and she still wasn't entirely certain of kaz's motivations, in buying out her contract. he had to know, that they were bound. how could he not? their exchange had been plain as day. for most people, finding their one was a joyous occasion. something to celebrate, to fall in love, to go be married, or whatever it is happy people do.

but for inej, kaz brekker was a means to an end. to freedom. it didn't particularly matter to her, if he was the one that she was bound to for life. most men were the same. and if kaz brekker attempted to take anything from her that she wasn't willing to give freely, she would ensure he would never walk again by removing his last good leg.

still, it wasn't long until people began to figure out she was new, and here on personal invitation from dirtyhands himself. for the first few days, most people left her alone. but this morning, some one had tried to take a pass at her. a wandering hand and a sweet compliment. she had frozen, her heart hammering in her chest, paralyzed at the touch. someone she didn't know had grabbed the offender by the arm -- a tall, lanky boy that inej vaguely remembered was named jesper -- to tell to back off. but before he could say a word, inej had ducked underneath their arms and slipped into the shadows.

it had made her feel weak. so inej descended into the basement of the slat, where a few scattered pieces of exercise equipment were lying around. though she preferred the roof, it wouldn't solve her problem, which was that she froze. and felt pathetic, and trapped in a corner. neither of those things would do, if she was going to survive in this place.

so inej solved the problem by driving her fist directly into a punching bag, envisioning the face of the insolent scum that had touched her upstairs.

the bag didn't move. and now her hand hurt.

nonetheless, inej punched it again. and again, and again. and soon, inej's arms burned with exertion, muscles being used that she hadn't used in a good while, but she drives her fist into the bag a final time, exhaling in a shuddered gasp as the bag swayed forward, landing back in her hands with a soft 'thump' as she steadies it. ]

Get a grip, Inej.

[ she mutters to herself in her native tongue, resting her forehead against the bag to catch her breath. the damn thing was bigger than she was. and she was no closer to feeling better about her pathetic display from earlier. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ It's been exactly a week since the new girl, Inej, had been with the Dregs. A week and a half since she'd told him I can help you and he'd believed her. Not for the truth of her words, but for the fact that she'd snuck up on him, soundless, with bells tied around her ankles.

No one's surprised him like that in years.

(There's also the niggling thought that maybe she is the one. The words are there, on the inside of his wrist. But he's heard them said by several people in the past and he's sure he'll continue to hear them in the future).

So he'd argued the case to Haskell, to buy out the girl's contract from Heleen. Something of a blessing, even if the Barrel could be a cruel place; he's heard some of the stories about Tante Heleen alongside just having to deal with her. An unpleasant woman. And unfortunately still a useful one. Her information was usually right and has helped him in the past. But eventually, he knows he'll end up having to deal with her.

For now though, he's waiting to see what happens with their newcomer. Per Haskell has been on his back all week about Inej and her apparent indolence, as well as her eerie silence. Kaz, irritated, finds himself stuck between two immovable facts: Haskell wants his results and Inej needs time. Trauma comes in many forms and the mask of quiet is a face he recognizes all too well.

The tentative ice shatters though. Kaz hears about an incident in the club from Jesper. It doesn't take him long to figure out where Inej had fled to but he deals with the offender first. Suffice to say the man will have a difficult time touching anything for a while. After, he makes his way down to the basement. A place he only occasionally visits, solely because it's another set of stairs. And there's always a damp chill that seems to set into his leg as soon as he gets halfway down. He ignores it in favor of watching Inej beat on a training bag, small fists driving into it with fervor if not much skill.

When she pauses to take a breath, he figures now is as good a time as any to say something. ]

You can break your thumb, punching like that.

[wraithes]

[ she hears the footsteps coming down the stairs, and inej's fingers curl into the canvas material of the punching bag, mentally steeling herself and taking note of her exits. she can make it up the shelving in the corner fairly easily and up the stairs before whoever it is can corner her. and inej is about to do so when, somewhat belatedly, she recognizes the additional thump of a cane.

it doesn't relax her, necessarily. but at least she knows who it is. and inej remains still before she hears his raspy voice, pointing out something inconsequential. or at least it is to her, because, for the first time in a week, inej speaks. ]

I would break his ribs, first.

[ somewhat curtly, as she drives her fist into the bag again, knuckles bruised from the hits she had already inflicted. she knows full well that while she wants to break the moron's face, she can't reach. so she'll settle for ribs, instead. that's within her range of motion.

still, none of that really solves why kaz bothered to come down here in the first place. likely irritated that she caused a scene within her first week. what else is new. heleen had told him she was a problem. it wasn't as if he hadn't been warned.

so, as inej drives her fist into the bag again, her tone remains cold, relishing the feeling of causing the bag to sway, even if just a little: ]

Per Haskell makes his crippled right hand go down two flights of stairs to punish his problems instead of doing the work himself?

[ another thud as she punches again. ]

[ketterdamn]

Possibly.

[ From viciousness alone, maybe. But she was talking about a big guy with thick skin. He's not sure viciousness would cut it against physiology.

That's an argument for another day, though. ]

Per Haskell made you my responsibility. [ So in a way, yes? Mostly in that Haskell had decided not to be bothered with punishing Inej and leaving it solely in his lap. It's a Barrel game, in a way. Will Brekker sink or swim with this decision? Did he tie his own noose in having an apparent weak link? ]

Jesper told me. [ He's not even sure Haskell will hear about this until later. Well, he'll certainly hear about the aftermath. ] I broke his arm.

[ And two of his fingers, as a warning. The arm had simply been punishment. Either way, if she's expecting consequence, she won't be getting it. It's not her fault a man had hands he couldn't keep to himself. ]

[wraithes]

[ that causes her to pause, and inej lays a hand flat on the bag to stop it swaying so she can look at him, brow furrowed. she almost looks confused, at the statement. broke his arm? for what, touching her?

jesper, that had been the boy who had grabbed the man's arm in the first place. his first instinct, to stop it, and his second, apparently, to tell kaz. who, for better or for worse, seemed to be her protector in this place.

a potential ally, then. or, at least, someone kind. there's a shortage of kindness, in ketterdam. she hasn't had much of it, lately.

she doesn't bother saying thank you. she doesn't imagine kaz brekker would really enjoy hearing it for something like that, from what little she knows about him. and inej finally lets her hands drop from the bag, examining her bruised knuckles for a brief moment before crossing her arms over her chest, fixing him with a frown.

she dislikes the word responsibility. mostly because: ]

I am no one's pet.

[ her tone is crisp, her fingers digging into her forearms, eyes flinty, jaw clenched. ]

So whatever consequences I have to bear are my own. I am not afraid of Per Haskell. Or you.

[ she's seen far worse than either of them. ]

tattoos

[ketterdamn]

[ Two weeks have passed since that first day he'd spent training Inej in the Slat's basement. Their schedule since then has been somewhat erratic, solely because of Dregs business, but they've met nearly every day. Twice, he met her in the early morning, around eight bells, having been too full of mental energy that he hadn't slept.

Since then, though, she seems to have slowly integrated. The Dregs finally broke, curiosity outweighing some of their fear, and a few of them had introduced themselves over meals. Whenever she wasn't shadowing his steps, Jesper seemed to take over and keep her company, doing what he was best at: making friends. He chatted and joked, attempting to make her laugh to try and break the tension that had been permeating since she'd arrived.

It's been working, mostly. The tension breaking. And he thinks he might've seen a smile or two from her.

Either way, it's apparent that something has to go sideways, because that was the nature of things that seemed to be going too well. Jesper had come hurrying into the club, expression pinched, to tell him Inej and Per Haskell had an argument loud enough for the entire Slat to hear. And that no, he hasn't talked to Inej, because apparently she fled to the roof.

Kaz pulls rank and gets someone to cover his shift, heading to the Slat to do as much damage control as possible. Per Haskell won't want to see him right now, not if he's heated, so he skips that visit and goes directly up the three flights of stairs and carefully out onto the roof. ]

You've got guts, I'll give you that.

[wraithes]

[ she had been invited into per haskell's office. kaz was out doing . . . something, inej wasn't entirely sure what, and jesper had been showing her his pistols when the boss invited her in. jesper hadn't seem too concerned, and so inej wasn't either. so she entered the office and waited quietly to find out what haskell wanted.

the conversation had begun relatively fine, asking how she was doing and what kaz was having her do. inej answered honestly, though minimally - while kaz hadn't necessarily told her to hide anything from haskell, inej also was certain kaz didn't want whatever he was up to on the side to come under haskell's glance. but then the conversation had turned toward getting a tattoo, and while inej tried to keep kaz's voice in mind (pick your battles), the comment of "you need to do as you're told while you're here" had pushed her to the edge.

so she had said no. and when haskell told her she was going to have to do it anyway, inej had repeated herself. it escalated from there, and haskell had yelled at her, and inej told him to watch his tongue, and now she found herself in the roof with her head buried in her hands, trying to figure out how to get herself out of the hole she has now dug.

a handful of weeks. that was what this had lasted. and now she had to explain herself to kaz, which inej was dreading more than having to face haskell again. and she thinks she's figured out what she's going to say when she hears someone come onto the roof.

every muscle in her body tenses before she hears the cane, and a slow exhale escapes at the sound of his voice. she doesn't look over at him as her gaze shifts toward the city, now lighting up in the dark. ]

He told me that I needed to get his mark, and I told him I would rather drown in the harbor.

[ her tone is even, as she wraps her arms around her knees. ]

I thought I would sit up here long enough for him to think I was serious.

[ketterdamn]

[ Ah. So that's what this is about. The crow and cup was the mark of the Dregs, one they'd all patiently (and painfully) sat through getting. A lot of them did so with a sense of pride. Others with hesitance. The rest just saw it as a means to an end, a symbol of some form of stability.

And Inej—well, he can understand why she wouldn't want yet another mark indicating she "belonged" to someone or something. Her sleeves were always down and, he noticed, if the telltale peacock feather emblazoned on her forearm so much as peeked, she would tug the fabric right back over it. The tattoo was a constant reminder of Tante Heleen, of what she'd done. Of who she claimed Inej had been.

Being in the Dregs is more preferable—but a tattoo is nearly as permanent as a scar. And just one more thing inflicted on her without her consent.

Slowly, he closes the gap between them, picking his way carefully over the tiles, before sitting next to her. Leaving a respectful space between them, as usual. ]

Not enough leverage. [ To effectively wait Haskell out, that is. The old man greatly dislikes being disobeyed unless there could be something in it for him and could be incredibly petty in his displeasure. ]

You'd rather drown?

[ He turns his gaze to her, serious in his question. Because he knows what those particular claws feel like, so tempted to have done the same years ago out on that island of dead. He wants to confirm how much she's unwilling to get the mark before taking it up with Haskell. Best case scenario, he takes it out on Kaz, who can handle him being ticked off until he cooled off. Mostly because he's secure in the knowledge that he isn't replaceable, not easily at least. Not like Inej, who's too new and has the threat of being handed back to Heleen hanging over her head. ]

[wraithes]

[ she's half-expecting a lecture, or a rebuke, or a threat to send her back to the menagerie. but instead, he carefully makes his way over to her, taking a seat. the movement isn't graceful, or quiet, given his leg and the cane, but inej is surprised he bothered to come up here to . . . what, have a conversation?

the question also surprises her, and inej exhales into a breathy laugh. there's no mirth in her tone, as her gaze remains fixed on the city. ketterdam is almost beautiful, from up here, with sparkling lights and laughter peeking through the dark alleyways. little blips of happiness in an otherwise miserable place. ]

Have you ever been to an auction? Not for weapons or jewelry or paintings, but for human beings.

[ she doesn't bother waiting for his response, and instead she glances toward him, her jawline set, eyes hardened. she remembers the first day she met tante heleen. the experience is burned into her memory forever. how she looked over every inch of her body, from her teeth to the soles of her feet. and how she was taken to the menagerie, and held down to be branded. and once her arm had healed enough to be questionably less prone to infection, she had been sold out for the night.

if the choice is be held down and humiliated and tattoo'd, or fight back and be sent to the menagerie, the third option is clear. ]

Yes. I would rather drown.

dekappel.

[wraithes]

[ she falls into a routine, with the dregs. she goes on jobs, she lingers on the rooftops. and she's made a name for herself, already, though inej isn't entirely sure she likes it. the wraith, the ghost in the dark that can slit your throat and dump your body off the roof.

( it happened once. once. kaz and jesper were in the middle of negotiations, and inej had caught a sniper on the roof taking aim at them both. no one had been any the wiser until the body hit the ground. to kaz's credit, he hadn't batted an eyelash and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. but jesper had reacted far more appropriately, his saints, what the fuck? echoing down the alleyways. the black tips decided to back off, after that. )

the killing is something she is still getting used to. she isn't entirely sure she ever will. the first time, she had scrubbed her hands so hard they nearly bled, and had remained on the roof for hours alone, trying to erase the sound of knife on bone from her ears. it had been a quick strike in self-defense, and it was either her or the razor gull that had a knife to her throat. but it didn't make it any easier. kaz had left her alone, for the most part, though he had come onto the roof to bring her dinner.

after that night, they were fairly inseparable, with one exception - kaz is still not a morning person. so inej spends most of her mornings alone in the mess hall. she's sitting in her favorite corner, sipping her coffee as she reads the paper. still trying to master the art of kerch, inej devours almost anything she can read. today, it's the police blotter.

she recognizes a few of the names on the list. poor sods. she hasn't been arrested yet. and if inej has her way, she never will.

she hears the thump of the cane before anything else, but inej doesn't look up from her reading as someone sits across from her, though her tone is dry: ]

Whatever it is, I am not doing it.

[ as her eyes scan down the blotter, picking out which names belonged to rival gangs and which ones were the dregs. rival gangs means they got pinched doing something . . . curious as to what. the gulls were up to something, the night before. interesting.

as for kaz, he is never up and about before eleven. so if he's down here, then he must want something. and if it's worth getting up early for, it must be something annoying. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ A year and a half passes in what feels like a blink.

He is, as always, cognizant of how much time is passing. Because while he doesn't have it written down, he knows when he'd crawled out of the harbor. And he remembers, clear as day, when he'd learned who Hertzoon had really been. Every day that ticks by is another step towards revenge. Each successful heist is another foothold in the Barrel, another claw in his monstrous reputation.

In that time span it's definitely grown, right alongside Inej's. Or perhaps is slightly overshadowed by it now, something he doesn't particularly mind. He said he'd make her dangerous and she is; the Barrel lives in fear that she'll show up behind them without a sound. Or that she'll drop a body off a roof, taking it as a form of payment.

She won't, not unless she absolutely has to, but he wasn't about to dissuade the belief. What good is a ghost story if there's logic applied?

Though, he supposes she would still be frightening even if they did have that knowledge. Her soundlessness terrified basically everyone. She's gotten even better, ever since she'd joined the Dregs. He sometimes has a hard time hearing her at all, though he always has a sense that she's nearby. Maybe it's developed more since they've spent so much time together—she's become a strange sort of confidant. Usually helpful and occasionally infuriating.

(And yet, even in his worst moods, he feels like he misses her when she storms off).

That measured look is why he's seeking her out now, despite it being early as hell. He takes a seat across from her, expression nearly jovial. ]

Good morning to you too. Who'd the watch get?

[ He has a fair idea but he's willing to go off topic for a moment. ]

[wraithes]

Good morning, Kaz Brekker, monster of the Barrel and apparent minder of manners.

[ she says mildly, offering him the greeting she knows he doesn't particularly care if he gets or not. her eyes continue to scan the list, picking out names that she finds recognizable. oomen is one of them, someone inej has never really liked. moron. ]

And half of Geels' best men, by the look of it.

[ she doesn't sound too bothered, by that, and she allows her eyes to flicker upward, to catch his gaze. he looks . . . well, happy is probably the wrong word. kaz rarely looks happy, but he looks -- excited? eager to talk to her?

all things probably in her head. though, not for the first time, she thinks about telling him, about the words on her wrist. and, not for the first time, inej immediately decides that is a horrible idea. ]

Have you slept?

[ she asks, arching her eyebrows as she takes him in with a glance. ]

You are up before noon.

[ketterdamn]

[ She humors him. And serves her own jab at the same time, something he's gotten used to over time. It's something he usually enjoys as well, though he'd never admit as much. ]

That'll keep them out of our business for at least a week.

[ Depended on how long they'd be in for. And on whether Geels was willing to try and recruit to fill the gaps in the meantime. He'll be too busy closing ranks to bother the Dregs—he is, after all, not very good at multitasking. Or doing anything aside from talking a big game. ]

Mostly. [ Not a lie, he did manage to catch a decent number of hours. His eyes say he could probably do with a few more, but his mind couldn't take lying still for any longer.

At least his leg isn't complaining. For now. ]

I've got a job for us.

[ Just them. A small operation because anything else will be too noticeable. He's been thinking about it for a few days, ever since Jan Van Eck decided to brag about the wonderful and original DeKappel painting he'd acquired.

As well as mentioning all of his security measures. On record. Stupid pigeons. ]

oomen.

[wraithes]

[ the first thing she recognizes, when she drifts into consciousness, is that she feels cold. stiff, and unnatural, in a bed that definitely is not her own. it's dark, with a flickering candle on the table, and as her eyes blink into focus, she realizes a few things.

one, she is alive. somehow. inej vaguely remembers the docks, and remembers kaz bringing her to . . . who knows. she doesn't really remember that part. she does remember the chaos, and him carrying her, and somehow still managing to disappoint her even while she was bleeding to death.

and managing to choke on the words on her wrist.

that realization causes a soft sigh to escape - more of a groan, really, as she tilts her head into the pillow, rolling slightly onto her side to face the wall - which winds up being a slight mistake, the still-healing wound stinging fiercely as she does so. oomen. how could she have been so slow and stupid.

maybe if she just fell back asleep, she wouldn't wake up. which would solve her problem, of having to deal with kaz brekker, who obviously didn't give half a damn if she died or not so long as he still made his coin.

saints, why was she so cold.

she's so wrapped up in the thought that she doesn't notice, immediately, that she isn't the only person in the room. and she lets her eyes close again, exhaling slowly to focus on her breathing, rather than the pain emanating from her middle, her fingers curling into the thin fabric of the sheet underneath her. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ The past few hours have been a blur. He's see-sawed between rage and anxiety, the latter settling in more once he'd stopped seeing red.

Earlier, he could've just pitched Oomen off the ship. Just left him to swim back where he could—it was a relatively fitting punishment. There was no guarantee he would make it back to shore, after all, not if he was a weak swimmer. But that hadn't been enough for him then. Not for what he'd done, nearly gutting Inej. Every fear he had over losing people in uncontrollable situations had crawled up from his chest when he'd carried her onto the ship, her wound soaking through both of their shirts.

And then he'd sharpened that bitter tang of terror into cold anger, taking it out on Oomen, divesting him of his eye just to make him feel a flicker of what he'd done.

Inej will be disappointed when she hears about it, he knows. When, not if. Because she'll make it through, she has to. This isn't how she deserves to go. Not when he still doesn't know what to apologize for. Which slight or jibe it was, what action he'd done to upset her. There were so many, too many, he doesn't know where to even start. Regret sits in his chest like a stone, seeping outwards to weigh down his shoulders. He's spent the last few hours staring out onto the ocean feeling vaguely defeated and annoyed about Nina having thrown him out of the room they'd put Inej up in.

Eventually, though, Nina comes up out of the cabin and joins them topside. To stretch and get some fresh air, a bite to eat. Kaz uses the opportunity to slink down to Inej, silent as he can be when he takes up a seat in the corner. Just to make sure she's still breathing.

(And to fetch Nina, in case she stops).

The dark room gives his head even more space to think and overthink. Maybe it's the proximity to her; he's remembering all too well how limp she'd been in his arms. How pale she'd looked. The last time he'd tasted fear like that had been—no, there isn't enough space for that shame. For a moment, it feels claustrophobic, the past colliding with the present.

Inej moves then, partially turning to her side and then letting out a slow, probably pained, breath. ]

Inej?

[wraithes]

[ the sound of his voice causes her to blink her eyes open again, the raspiness of her name causing a tug of her consciousness to the present. her first thought is that she should ignore him; the second is feeling surprised that he's even here at all.

she's half tempted to just pretend she's asleep, but the pain in her side is growing by the moment, and inej knows she should probably return to lying on her back. or at least rolling to face him.

inej elects to remain facing the wall. ]

Kaz.

[ her voice feels pathetically weak and soft, her throat dry. idly wishing that she could just pass out again and avoid talking with him, but the saints have something else to do with her, it seems. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ When she responds, her voice is soft enough he almost doesn't hear it over the persistent lap of water against the ship. It's another indication she's too weak from her injury; he should just leave her be so she can rest. He won't, though. At least not until Nina gets back. They've passed the scariest part and she isn't bleeding all over. But she lost a lot of blood in the process, things could still go sideways.

He clenches a hand around the cane in his lap, feeling another bubble of anger. Damn Oomen. Damn the Black Tips. Damn the whole Barrel. ]

Nina will be down again soon. Go back to sleep.

rescue.

[ketterdamn]

[ A week passes from their encounter with Van Eck on Vellgeluk. He sets his mind to the task of getting Inej back. Not only for her own sake but because he won't abide by a second more of her being in Jan Van Eck's hands. It makes his stomach turn, not knowing what she's going through. Not having her here, with the group, at his side.

If he's honest, which he only is in the dead of night when left with his thoughts, he feels like he's missing a limb. Her absence has left a gaping hole, one that everyone has been feeling keenly.

So he schemes, thinking on how best to outmaneuver a merch who has nearly every resource at his disposal. It's his major leverage but, as Matthias asks how they'll do this, he knows it's also his biggest weakness. Van Eck has picked a fight with people who understand what it is to have nothing. And in some ways, aren't afraid to have it taken from them again. None of them have legacies or estates or, in some cases, even families.

Van Eck, though, had handed his soft spot to Kaz on a platter. An heir and a very pregnant wife, tucked away.

All things considered, the rescue itself goes off...not terribly. It's chaotic, but he'd counted on chaos. The sound of fireworks ring in his ears all the way to the Weft, finally dying down once he and Inej make their way into an abandoned linen warehouse. It'd been victim to a fire relatively recently which meant no operations would be here until the real estate exchanged hands. Nor would anyone come looking for them here.

He watches Inej get settled on the leftover linen rolls and hands over the food and water he'd tucked away ahead of time. She looks pale and too thin. A week had been too long. A week shouldn't have existed, if he'd just kept his eyes on Van Eck instead of darting his gaze over to her.

Stupid, so stupid. He'll regret that moment for years to come.

Carefully, he lowers himself to the linen pile, sitting close but giving her space. ]

What did you say to Van Eck? On the bridge.

[ The merch had looked distinctly unhappy. ]

[wraithes]

[ she thought her knees would buckle in relief, at seeing kaz on that bridge. because it isn't as if she had a doubt that he would come for her, because of course he would. but she wasn't entirely sure van eck would allow her to go. she had tried escaping on her own, which ended in a miserable failure, one punished by van eck chaining her to a table and threatening to smash her legs if she refused to tell him where kaz brekker was.

naturally, she kept her mouth shut. spun a panicked lie, though she had come close to showing true fear. he had grabbed her arms, pulled up her sleeves. seen the scarred mess that was left of her peacock feather, but most importantly, had seen the words on the opposite wrist. made shrewd comments, assuming that kaz was her other half.

(he was, of course. but inej had told him it was wylan, which had earned her a punch to the side of the head. worth it, though, to see the fury in his eyes and the disgusting curl of his lip.)

when kaz brings her to the warehouse, her eyes track the food and water he's stashed a little hungrily, but she knows from experience that shoving food into her mouth after being denied it for a period of time was a mistake that only ended in vomiting. it's soon disregarded, though, in kaz settling down next to her to sit.

for half a moment, she remains still at his question. but she soon scoots herself closer, to gingerly loop her arms around his waist as she folds herself smaller, tucking herself against his side.

only then does she say: ]

I told him that he would only see me one more time.

[ before she slits his throat. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ She doesn't eat, not right away, probably worried about it coming back up if she goes too fast. He frowns, not liking it. But she knows her body better and is also better at listening to it.

Though he can't be too upset, not when she's finally back. Soon it'll be the whole crew again, the way it should be.

For now it's just them, something he's going to relish for a bit as she loops her arms around his middle. He puts an arm around her shoulders gently, holding her as close as he comfortably can. There's an immediate soothing effect, just to have her weight against his side. ]

Dangerous girl. [ He hopes Van Eck loses sleep over that one. It's the least he deserves. Kaz has plans to do worse—ruin him completely, from the ground up. Van Eck didn't fully understand who he was dealing with. ]

Are you okay?

[ She doesn't look injured but that doesn't mean anything. ]

[wraithes]

[ the arm around her shoulders causes her to relax whatever tension was being held in her shoulders, exhaling slowly at his comment. dangerous -- she hadn't felt it, chained to the table. terrified that van eck was going to drive that hammer directly into her shins.

kaz's second question, though, gives her pause. she feels much better, now that she has a moment to catch her breath. but to say she was okay would be a lie. ]

He kept me in chains.

[ after a moment of silence, letting her eyes close to focus on his heartbeat, which she can faintly feel against her cheek.

she would tell kaz the whole story in a moment, but for now, that would be enough to answer his question. ]

geldrunner.

[ketterdamn]

[ It's starting to become a trend, he thinks, with days feeling like weeks. Frankly, it's not something he enjoys. Because there's both too much time and not enough of it. The hours drag by like sticky toffee and he still wishes he had more of it to get everything in place.

But, it is what it is. And if there's one thing he's good at, it's working with what he's got. Not to mention: he hates feeling cornered. He's going to make Van Eck pay up for the discomfort and for all the shit he's put them through. It's not just about getting even, it's taking the man down completely, burning his legacy and good name down to ashes. Because he doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve to have such wealth and power when he's shown exactly how ugly he is on the inside. When there's a group of people right here that deserve it more. Kaz is going to make him regret every second he's spent lording over "Barrel scum".

First, though, he has a particular debt to settle. It's not his, exactly, though it would be around his neck if Inej ever decided she didn't want to deal with the Dregs any longer. Despite that lurking leash, he's never felt bitter about it. That contract was her relative freedom from Heleen; he'd do it again, a thousand times over.

Striding into the bathroom, he stops at the sink, pulling his coat off and tossing it over the counter away from the water basin. Inej sits a couple feet from him, cutting up bandages at the vanity. What he's about to ask is incredibly risky and stupid but it's necessary. Necessary so they all got out, even if he had to hang for it, as much as that sends a sharp jab of anxiety through him. Inej doesn't deserve to have that mark on her arm distort, not after everything she's gone through.

But he couldn't handle it if she died before living out her dream.

So: ]

I need an alternate route to the Slat, off the streets.

[wraithes]

[ she doesn't think she's ever been so tired in her life, but she needs to keep moving. bandaging her wounds is a good start, to continue to prepare for whatever happens next. so she cuts bandages, focusing on one step in front of the next.

she hears kaz come in, which is a little surprising, to her. she glances in his direction, as she watches him pull off his coat. his question is also a surprise - why on earth would any of them want to go to the slat, when per haskell has made it perfectly clear that the crows can hang, and his allegiance is better served with pekka rollins?

that being said: ]

I can take you along the rooftops.

[ easily enough, because of course, she's going to go with him. she holds up a bandage along her shoulder with a frown, matching it up in the mirror over the sink. probably long enough to fix the gash. dunyasha was merciless in her strikes. if inej weren't the object of her murderous fascination, she would appreciate the artwork. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ He's anticipated her answer, because where Dirtyhands goes, the Wraith is usually not TLJ far behind. It's why she had those snide remarks slung her way: Brekker's little Wraith. In some ways, he liked it. Because it meant they were seen as dangerous together, even moreso than they were apart.

But it also made it sound like she was his. And he's always understood she was her own person, not beholden to anyone. Neither of them stopped the comments—it was a losing battle. Saying anything about it would just draw suspicion. The silence in this case made it so they didn't fan the flames more than they'd already been sparked.

So he's ready, when she says she's going to come. He peels his gloves off and turns the tap on, waiting for the water to steam up. ]

They'll be looking for any sign of weakness. [ Cupping his hands, he splashes some water on his face, dragging damp fingers through his hair. It's not as good as completely rinsing off, but it makes him feel a little more alert. He dries his face with the towel hanging nearby, cutting a stern gaze over to Inej. ] For anything that says I can't handle myself. I need you to stay here.

[wraithes]

[ he splashes water on his face, and inej watches him carefully, her brow furrowing slightly as he starts to talk. and then he looks at her, with an expression that seems to prepare for battle, and once he continues, inej can see why.

i need you to stay here. ]

That is suicide.

[ a bit bluntly, turning her attention back to bandaging her shoulder, turning slightly so she can see what she is doing in the mirror. ]

I am not allowing you to go alone to greet twenty men with a single brain cell to share among them just for the purpose of pride. I am going with you.

[ injured shoulder or not, she can still fight. ]