I asked for an answer to my question, not your attitude.
[ her tone is mild, as she unfolds her arms from her chest, moving to fold her newspaper in half and collect the dishes from her long-eaten breakfast. she places her cup on top of her plate. ]
You owe me dinner.
[ she says, tossing him a pointed look as she rises to her feet, dishes in hand, newspaper tucked under her arm. she hasn't yet agreed, but the statement is as good as. she'll be wherever he needs her to be, ready and waiting in the shadows. ]
And I refuse to do anything this reckless with you unless you sleep more than five hours, so I suggest you go do that.
[ Inej pls. Give him more credit here. Even if he did give you an attitude. ]
Ketterdam's your oyster. [ Within reason, but she's never been one to go outrageous. Besides, paying for dinner is a small price for doing this job with him. With that demand, she's agreed without saying she agrees—this is how it is with them. Reading between the lines. Or sometimes, not even having to talk aloud at all.
It's begun to make him wonder about the words scrawled across his wrist. I can help you. How many times has he heard someone say that? At least a dozen, all said in different ways. Some tremulous, others wheedling. She'd said it with such surety, despite having the expression of someone caged.
He'll never forget that. And he thinks maybe he should just up and ask her what's on her wrist. Just to clear the air. But part of him likes not knowing, afraid of what it might mean if it's a yes.
Or what it might mean if it's a no. If someone else is her future. He's never been possessive, exactly, but he's certainly protective. Especially in this instance, where she's already been through enough. ]
Fine, I won't plan anything strenuous for a couple days.
[ it's said easily, as she pauses by the side of the table, frowning slightly to herself at the clear irritable nature of the response. he's upset because . . . what, she doubted him? it had been a joke.
but, then, kaz brekker doesn't exactly have a sense of humor. something she's learned the hard way, on more than one occasion. ]
Lucky you, then. Forced boredom for a day or two.
[ she says after a moment, tone shifting back into something a little dry, as she leans her hip against the table, taking a moment before she disposes of her dishes.
she supposes she could poke a little less fun at him. but only a little. because he's being an infant, and someone around here has to tell him so. seeing as everyone else is petrified of him. ]
I suppose I'll owe you dinner in the interim, seeing as I'm forcing you to undergo something cruel and unusual.
[ with a slight roll of her eyes toward the staircase, which, three flights up, leads to kaz's lair. (and, to be fair, her own.) ]
[ Something about her saying she knows puts him—not exactly at ease. But less tense, certainly. He doesn't know why he took it to heart so much, it's not like she truly doubts whether he's capable.
It just always means more. Means anything, coming from her than from anyone else. Everyone else's opinion, save for Jesper's, occasionally, he doesn't give a fuck about. ]
Oh no, I'll have to slum it doing dealer shifts at the club. How horrible.
[ It's not like he stops showing his face there, but he's usually doing other things. Things that make Haskell and the Dregs more money, so they can keep the roof over their heads. And make improvements, when there's opportunity. ]
Cruel and unusual, my dear Inej, would be asking me to climb up from the outside. That— [ He waves his hand in the direction of the stairs. ] —is just an inconvenience.
[ Well, some days it's more than that. Today isn't so bad though. ]
If that's what you like. [ He won't say no to her company. ]
[ ah, there he is. and while, usually, his irritating comments and pet names causes a roll of her eyes, this time it prompts a soft upward tug of her lips, into a slight smile.
whatever had been tugging at his mood is now gone, if he's back to being a general annoyance. inej would rather suffer that than one of his darker moods any day of the week. ]
You can keep my half of the profit if you can make it, my dear.
[ by the sound of her voice, inej is fairly certain that kruge is going to be hers. and she casts a meaningful look at his cane before tilting her head. ]
Are you coming?
[ she can walk back up with him, if he is. she can always slip out the window to get whatever she needs. ]
[ She gives him a little smile and notices it has a slightly different effect than usual. Recently, it's changed, leaving him with a small curl of warmth in his gut. He's been telling himself to ignore it, to try not to get used to it. What does it matter if she smiles at him every now and again?
(And yet, somehow, it does). ]
You can keep your half, not interested. [ Seems nearly sacrilegious to say, considering how much he loves kruge. But he also loves the idea of using the stairs rather than climbing a sheer wall. He's climbed up to rooftops before, to join her on occasional surveys, but there's usually a stack of crates or low windowsills for him to use. The Slat isn't built with those, especially not going all the way up to the third floor and attic. ]
Suddenly so impatient.
[ He does pull himself up out of his seat, joining up with her so they can go upstairs. ]
I've got a layout of the house, on my desk. Compiled it from the descriptions in the papers. Altogether, they were really specific.
[ not interested. ah well, it would have been funny to watch, at least. she keeps pace with him, though she does pause to deposit the dishes. and they spend the rest of the evening pouring over maps, trying to determine the best entry point. inej manages to change kaz's mind on at least two points of the plan, which she feels some sense of achievement over.
the heist itself is pulled off, as kaz predicts, in two days. it goes off relatively without a hitch, inej stealing over the bodies of sleeping dogs to ensure the pathway to the vault where the painting is being held is safe. the guards are easy to distract, a carefully dropped rock off the rooftops, and silently knocking one unconscious who is a bit too smart to fall for such a simple trick.
inej never really likes to kill unnecessarily. besides, it's better the guard lives to tell the tale.
picking the locks takes a hair longer than inej would have liked, but kaz (as always) gets in. and before she really knows it, kaz has the painting (sans frame, which they leave for posterity) rolled up underneath his arm, and they go their respective ways. inej takes to the rooftops, to make sure the way is clear, and kaz out a window, to head back to the slat.
soon, though, she drops down into the safe house that they have designated as their rendezvous point, an empty shuttered restaurant a few blocks away from the crow club. dingy and abandoned, perfect for laying low while the watch tear apart the barrel, until they can get home safe. and once she's slipped into the window, she says, a bit breathless: ]
They've got no idea.
[ as easy as picking a pocket of a tourist fresh off the boat in the harbor. ]
[ They solidify the plan, with Inej pointing out two very specific details he'd glossed over. It becomes...not an argument, but definitely a heated discussion. One she ultimately wins out on, her acrobat logic taking precedence. He is a little irritated by it, but ultimately, it ends up panning out.
Because two days go by, a dog whistle is acquired, and it's the two of them sneaking onto the Van Eck grounds in the middle of the night. Much of the estate is surrounded by grass and curated gardens, so he doesn't have to worry about hobbling along without his cane for a large portion. Inej makes her way in over the rooftop, as usual. He has to make do with carefully prying up a window. After the initial break in, it goes as smooth as butter. The dogs follow the whistle commands without a peep and Inej materializes soon after, footsteps soundless as she meets him at the vault. The lock is a complicated one, the pins on the inside so new they stick a bit, rather than sliding out of place on ones that see more use. So it's an uncomfortable delay, one that he ultimately triumphs over. The painting is slid from its frame and into a carrying tube he'd gotten just for this—couldn't have something so pricey ending up with water damage or something so inane.
Everything is locked back in place, the window shut how he'd seen it when he first came in, and Inej disappears back to the roof.
The guards she had taken care of eventually come to and raise the alarm, but not without the two of them having made significant headway back into the Staves. Kaz navigates the twisting alleys with practiced ease, knowing Inej is somewhere in the vicinity, just on her own path.
He posts up near a boarded window at their rendezvous point—it has a narrow slit between boards to look through. All the better to see the hurried lanterns of the stadwatch as they look for someone they won't ever catch. ]
Absolutely none. Not that it's hard to pull one over on. They can be an exceptionally stupid hive of bees.
[ Following one stream of thought in neat and orderly lines. That's always been the watch's problem.
Still, there's a grin in his voice as he turns to look over at her, the barest of light limning her outline. ]
[ she can tell he's grinning, which causes an odd twist in her chest. a pleasant one, and inej makes her way over toward the window, to lean forward and peer through the slit, seeing the watch on the streets. ]
Hmmm . . .
[ her tone is thoughtful, before she tilts her head up at him, with a slight grin, her face illuminated by the lamplights outside, the light peeking through the cracks in the dusty boards. ]
Something about 'Unbreakable Vault Broken Into; Thieves Unknown' or something like that. Just vague enough to count, but scathing enough to make Van Eck grind his teeth.
[ she shifts her feet, turning to push herself up onto the crate that kaz has situated himself on so he can look out the window a bit easier, settling next to him with half a laugh. ]
[ Her steps are still silent as she comes over, shadows peeling back as she peeks out the window. There's enough light coming in from the street lamps that he catches sight of her grin full on, teeth flashing bright and eyes curving with her amusement. It's brief, but he feels his pulse hiccup, leaving him lightheaded.
Normally, there'd be a sinking anxiety at such a reaction. He recognizes it, after all. Remembers Imogen and the gap in her teeth, her slow smile and the way she'd touched his sleeve. It's been a long time since he'd even let someone get under his skin enough for this.
In the aftermath of such a heist, though, the drag of fear is a pin drop. There's still adrenaline kicking through his system, delight in pulling something so technically difficult off. And of course, in fleecing a major pigeon. Van Eck had needed some humbling and they'd delivered on it. ]
Apoplectic. [ He lets out a huffed laugh, thinking about how furious Jan Van Eck must feel right now. ]
Those dogs of his didn't even twitch when you walked past.
[ In part because of the whistle. But mostly because she's the Wraith. So. Praise. Sort of? ]
[ the laugh sparks an instant brightness in her eyes, and she settles back against the wall, brushing back her hood so she can see him properly. she hasn't seen or heard him so happy in . . . well, ever. pulling off such a thing has clearly made him believe he's on cloud nine.
maybe it was alright, then, if she loved him. it's hard to feel otherwise, in moments like this. ]
Of course they didn't.
[ obviously!! as she gently swings her feet, the crane high enough off the ground that her toes don't quite scuff the floor boards. rubber soles hardly make a noise, padding her steps to avoid any disgruntled dogs. ]
You really can break into every lock.
[ she says with no small amount of warmth, glancing in his direction, arching her eyebrows a little. a compliment for a compliment. ]
[ Of course they didn't. He has to agree, because he's been victim to her silence. Well, not just that, but her lack of presence—no sound, no scent. It was unnerving, the first time.
Now it only leaves him disgruntled when she decides to let him feel her particular silence. Usually when she's irritated.
There's none of that here and now, not for either of them. He feels too buoyed by their success to let anything dampen it. At least, temporarily. ]
Shiny new locks like to stick. [ They're somewhat of a rarity, especially one of Van Eck's make and model. It's a lot of money to spend on security.
He pulls his gaze away from the window to turn it towards her, noting she's pushed her hood back. She's close, too. Not uncomfortably so; much like their distance on the roof of the Slat.
There's a strange temptation to close the gap. But he doesn't, his mouth curving conspiratorially instead. ]
Can't get every lock though. At least one requires two sets of hands.
[ ah, she knew he would have a reason, and it prompts half a laugh as she watches his expression. he absolutely has to have that last word, even over something as silly as a harmless dig over a lock.
still: ]
Something tells me you will figure it out with just your own two.
[ she almost leans over to bump her shoulder into his, but she stops herself. he has never touched her unless necessary, to boost her up or grab her in the rare street fight where someone gets close enough to her to have a shot. and she hasn't exactly touched him, either. the move feels too . . . much? which feels silly. ]
You promised me dinner, not an empty restaurant, by the way.
[ as she tilts her head toward more empty crates tucked into a corner, dusty tables that once held patrons pushed against the wall. ]
[ He's never had the chance to take a crack at it. In theory, he could probably think of some solutions for it. But he'd have to do some reading. Maybe when he had time, which he doesn't always have much of, these days. At least not for anything that doesn't make the gang some money.
Still, there's something thrilling in knowing she has that kind of faith in his skills. ]
Taste of victory not filling enough? [ He cocks and eyebrow but then grins, not able to keep the ruse up for long. ] The watch will be out of this area soon, we'll go get your dinner then.
[ Mostly he just wants to avoid any law enforcement asking about the leather tube he's carrying about. It's not exactly easy to hide. ]
[ that comment earns a proper laugh, which almost surprises her. it's rare that she's so -- well, loud, even though her laugh really isn't that loud. but the taste of victory - as if that was ever enough to survive in this city.
still, she does lean over to pluck the tube from under his arm, leather sliding against the wool of his coat as she catches it in a hand. ]
Well, if the taste of victory is enough, then I imagine you won't mind donating this to charity.
[ her tone is wry, as if she knows better than that. ]
My retirement fund, for one, is looking a little sparse.
[ Her laugh isn't all that loud. But he so rarely hears it at this pitch, unfettered as it is in the dark of the building. Warmth blooms in his chest, threatening to make it to his face. It's startling in its intensity and he's glad for the relative darkness they're sitting in.
Still, he can't help the little smile he gives her in return, her laughter infectious and her comment amusing. ]
Cut it any way you like, Inej, but Ketterdam would consider us charity cases.
[ But it's altogether given up on the people who live in the Barrel. Well, not live. More like scrape by, mostly.
He cuts a quick glance out the window, though his tone is wistful despite his alertness. ]
[ she supposes that much is true, that ketterdam considers them charity cases. though to be a charity case, inej thinks someone would at least have to know your name. most people don't know hers, just the wraith.
sometimes, that's a good thing. the girl she was died a long time ago. the girl she is now is someone to be feared. that has to count for something, in the end.
she does pause, though, at that. one day, it won't. and inej silently pushes herself off the crate and onto her feet, turning to hand the tube with the painting in it back to kaz. it's far easier for him to hide it in his coat than it is for her. she tries to leave as little a silhouette as possible, which involves not having clothing with a ton of pockets. ]
What do you think that looks like? Ketterdam respecting us. Or not being a charity case.
[ it's almost impossible to consider, really, as she makes her way out of the rendezvous point, slipping into the dark alleyway with a tilt of her head in his direction. he's in a good mood; she may as well push it.
and, she decides to continue with half a laugh, tossing him a slight grin as she slides her hands into the pockets of her jacket, choosing to take the slow path, with him. ]
Kaz Brekker finds his person, settles down, lives the rest of his life in domestic bliss.
[ the words tread down a dangerous path, but -- maybe it wouldn't be so bad. him knowing. or maybe it would. who knows. ]
[ He takes the painting back from her, sliding it back into the deep pocket on the inside of his coat. In shadow, it'll be hard to see. If the watch managed to wrangle them into the light, though, it would be difficult to hide.
They won't be caught, though. He's sure of it.
Hopping off the crate, he rebalances easily and joins her as they make their way out of the abandoned restaurant and towards the street that'll lead them to dinner. It's not too far. ]
The merchant council would have to get their heads out of their asses first. I wouldn't count on that this century.
[ They like to cater to the merchers and middle class. It didn't matter that plenty of commerce and taxes were paid up collectively by the gangs in the Barrel. They were just dirt on a shoe to sneer at. ]
I'll take them recognizing they've got a wolf on their doorstep if they aren't going to show respect.
[ Better fear than nothing at all. They've grown comfortable. He's seen where that gets people—Haskell being one of them. He had a building falling down around his ears and a gang that was as feared as a bent spoon.
That's changed in the past few years. Because he'd been willing to take risks, even if he had to drag Per Haskell kicking and screaming into his schemes.
Her next comment has him snorting derisively. She was so observant and yet, this. ]
Oh yes, the monster of the Barrel ending up with a modest home and flower boxes in the window. Don't be a ridiculous podge, Inej.
[ with an arch of her eyebrows in his direction, ignoring the insult and the dramatics as they walk, amused at the snort. kaz brekker might call himself a monster, but inej knows differently. there are little bits of light in there, peeking through. typically whenever they're alone, and almost never when other people are watching.
it hasn't escaped her notice that he instinctively grabs the door for her to pass through first, rather than walking on through like most of the other men in this part of town. ]
But I suppose you are right.
[ with a slight sigh, though just in case kaz brekker thinks that inej ghafa is caving to his pessimism, she adds: ]
I think we both know you are not going to have a modest house.
I can help you. Echoes around in his head, the words as stark on his wrist since the day they first appeared. They haven't gone hazy or jumbled or wiped away, like they do when someone's soulmate is gone. So whoever it is, they're still out there.
Again, he thinks of the possibility of it being the girl next to him, her steps lighter than a cat's. And her persistent optimism, despite everything.
No, that's impossible. She would deserve better.
He could ask, throw her words right back, but he finds he can't pull the trigger. Not knowing is somehow easier. ]
They're in for a nasty surprise, poor sod. If the Barrel doesn't get to either us first, at any rate.
[ He fully intends on surviving because he's made it this far. Because he has revenge to carry out and he won't have that stolen from his fingertips.
But there's always the possibility someone with longer fangs will decide he's a threat and decide to put him six feet under. ]
No, I'm going to build a miniature palace in the middle of the mercher's neighborhood. Just to annoy them.
[ for someone so brilliant, he was so stupid. so he still did not know. because inej can tell, when kaz is lying, or hiding, or lying by omission. most days, anyway. and he's not, now.
he also doesn't ask her, something that makes her lips twitch into a faint smile as they walk, her hands burying a bit deeper into her jacket. he wants to remain in the unknown, which suits her just fine.
she, as always, keeps her secrets close to her vest. ]
No one is going to get to you.
[ she says first, because to do that, they would need to get past her. and inej has a hard time envisioning anyone capable of doing something like that. they would have a knife to their throat before they could breathe their first insult.
past that, though, her tone shifts to thoughtful. ]
How many rooms?
[ amused, at the thought of kaz living next door to someone like van eck. the council would certainly hate it. ]
[ It's true—someone would be hard pressed to even come close to him. Not only because he usually sees it coming or has planned for it, but there's also Inej. Who weirdly (or perhaps not) has his back with most things. It's a guarantee they won't see her coming.
Still. A possibility. ]
Not easily or without a fight.
[ From either of them. She's proven time and time again that she's a survivor, like he is. ]
Twenty-five? Thirty? It'll obviously depend on the amount of acreage. I'll make them all garish and put complicated locks on all the doors. If the merchers complain, I can just say I was imitating their style.
[ Which is, quite frankly, hideous in most aspects. Who needs that much velvet everywhere? Do they like having their hair stick up in every direction from the static it passes? ]
[ the thought of kaz brekker (who wears one color, which is black) living in a garish nightmare of a house is enough to bring a grin to her features, shaking her head slightly. she doubts he would live in one, but she doesn't doubt for a moment that he would build it out of spite. ]
Thirty.
[ with a soft click of her tongue, in mock disapproval at the wastefulness. inej is nothing but practical. who on earth needs thirty rooms? inej barely uses the one that she has, and it isn't even hers. ]
Saints knows whoever you wind up with will need the patience of a goddess, if you are going to decorate the entire house in blue velvet out of spite.
[ because regardless of his pessimistic grumbling, there is someone for everyone. even if he is too blind to see her. maybe one day he will.
she pushes that thought of her head as they near dinner - simple, out of the way, open twenty-four-seven. cheap and generally populated by those of their ilk, thieves and conpeople who need a quick bite to eat. but the eggs and toast are delicious, and their waffles are top notch. kaz had promised her dinner . . . which is turning into more breakfast, at this hour of night. whatever. it counts. ]
Should we get it to go and eat on the roof?
[ she asks, thoughtful, as she glances toward him. ]
Just for that, I'm making it thirty five. Some will be the size of a broom closet but it'll be excessive waste in the style of most merchers.
[ Does he think he'll ever need that many? Absolutely not. He's content with his attic room, despite it being three floors up. But he'd needed the quiet and to make a very direct point to the rest of the Slat's inhabitants: he wasn't an invalid. There were certainly some days he had the tinge of regret for being so stubborn. Namely when a storm started blowing in from the harbor. It made his knee ache something awful.
But that just meant once he did get up the stairs, he could grumble about it in peace. ]
Or a god, you never know. [ That's a thing. He has eyes and ears. And he's been living in the Barrel long enough—here people don't care nearly as much about who they're sleeping with. They don't have to be preoccupied with producing heirs or whatever awful leash the merchers have decided to hang themselves with. ]
Why stop at blue? I could have the gamut. [ Thinking about it makes him cringe, just a bit. So awful. ]
[ there's a soft snort, at that. thirty-five. what a brat. but as he continues, her eyebrows arch a little, surprised. or maybe not. she supposes she's never asked what his preferences were.
maybe because she's never really envisioned him with anyone else but her. ]
I always wondered what Geels' first words were, to you.
[ she muses, as she pauses outside the restaurant door, glancing over the outdoor menu. she doesn't bother answering about her preferences concerning dinner - she wants to eat on the roof, so she will. ]
No wonder you keep it so closely under wraps. The scandal that would be, the future of the Dregs running off with the Black Tips.
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no subject
Date: 2021-01-22 07:12 pm (UTC)[ her tone is mild, as she unfolds her arms from her chest, moving to fold her newspaper in half and collect the dishes from her long-eaten breakfast. she places her cup on top of her plate. ]
You owe me dinner.
[ she says, tossing him a pointed look as she rises to her feet, dishes in hand, newspaper tucked under her arm. she hasn't yet agreed, but the statement is as good as. she'll be wherever he needs her to be, ready and waiting in the shadows. ]
And I refuse to do anything this reckless with you unless you sleep more than five hours, so I suggest you go do that.
no subject
Date: 2021-01-23 12:06 am (UTC)[ Inej pls. Give him more credit here. Even if he did give you an attitude. ]
Ketterdam's your oyster. [ Within reason, but she's never been one to go outrageous. Besides, paying for dinner is a small price for doing this job with him. With that demand, she's agreed without saying she agrees—this is how it is with them. Reading between the lines. Or sometimes, not even having to talk aloud at all.
It's begun to make him wonder about the words scrawled across his wrist. I can help you. How many times has he heard someone say that? At least a dozen, all said in different ways. Some tremulous, others wheedling. She'd said it with such surety, despite having the expression of someone caged.
He'll never forget that. And he thinks maybe he should just up and ask her what's on her wrist. Just to clear the air. But part of him likes not knowing, afraid of what it might mean if it's a yes.
Or what it might mean if it's a no. If someone else is her future. He's never been possessive, exactly, but he's certainly protective. Especially in this instance, where she's already been through enough. ]
Fine, I won't plan anything strenuous for a couple days.
no subject
Date: 2021-01-23 12:54 am (UTC)[ it's said easily, as she pauses by the side of the table, frowning slightly to herself at the clear irritable nature of the response. he's upset because . . . what, she doubted him? it had been a joke.
but, then, kaz brekker doesn't exactly have a sense of humor. something she's learned the hard way, on more than one occasion. ]
Lucky you, then. Forced boredom for a day or two.
[ she says after a moment, tone shifting back into something a little dry, as she leans her hip against the table, taking a moment before she disposes of her dishes.
she supposes she could poke a little less fun at him. but only a little. because he's being an infant, and someone around here has to tell him so. seeing as everyone else is petrified of him. ]
I suppose I'll owe you dinner in the interim, seeing as I'm forcing you to undergo something cruel and unusual.
[ with a slight roll of her eyes toward the staircase, which, three flights up, leads to kaz's lair. (and, to be fair, her own.) ]
Want company in stealing that whistle?
no subject
Date: 2021-01-23 01:27 am (UTC)It just always means more. Means anything, coming from her than from anyone else. Everyone else's opinion, save for Jesper's, occasionally, he doesn't give a fuck about. ]
Oh no, I'll have to slum it doing dealer shifts at the club. How horrible.
[ It's not like he stops showing his face there, but he's usually doing other things. Things that make Haskell and the Dregs more money, so they can keep the roof over their heads. And make improvements, when there's opportunity. ]
Cruel and unusual, my dear Inej, would be asking me to climb up from the outside. That— [ He waves his hand in the direction of the stairs. ] —is just an inconvenience.
[ Well, some days it's more than that. Today isn't so bad though. ]
If that's what you like. [ He won't say no to her company. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-01-23 01:38 am (UTC)whatever had been tugging at his mood is now gone, if he's back to being a general annoyance. inej would rather suffer that than one of his darker moods any day of the week. ]
You can keep my half of the profit if you can make it, my dear.
[ by the sound of her voice, inej is fairly certain that kruge is going to be hers. and she casts a meaningful look at his cane before tilting her head. ]
Are you coming?
[ she can walk back up with him, if he is. she can always slip out the window to get whatever she needs. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-01-24 01:17 pm (UTC)(And yet, somehow, it does). ]
You can keep your half, not interested. [ Seems nearly sacrilegious to say, considering how much he loves kruge. But he also loves the idea of using the stairs rather than climbing a sheer wall. He's climbed up to rooftops before, to join her on occasional surveys, but there's usually a stack of crates or low windowsills for him to use. The Slat isn't built with those, especially not going all the way up to the third floor and attic. ]
Suddenly so impatient.
[ He does pull himself up out of his seat, joining up with her so they can go upstairs. ]
I've got a layout of the house, on my desk. Compiled it from the descriptions in the papers. Altogether, they were really specific.
no subject
Date: 2021-01-24 07:21 pm (UTC)the heist itself is pulled off, as kaz predicts, in two days. it goes off relatively without a hitch, inej stealing over the bodies of sleeping dogs to ensure the pathway to the vault where the painting is being held is safe. the guards are easy to distract, a carefully dropped rock off the rooftops, and silently knocking one unconscious who is a bit too smart to fall for such a simple trick.
inej never really likes to kill unnecessarily. besides, it's better the guard lives to tell the tale.
picking the locks takes a hair longer than inej would have liked, but kaz (as always) gets in. and before she really knows it, kaz has the painting (sans frame, which they leave for posterity) rolled up underneath his arm, and they go their respective ways. inej takes to the rooftops, to make sure the way is clear, and kaz out a window, to head back to the slat.
soon, though, she drops down into the safe house that they have designated as their rendezvous point, an empty shuttered restaurant a few blocks away from the crow club. dingy and abandoned, perfect for laying low while the watch tear apart the barrel, until they can get home safe. and once she's slipped into the window, she says, a bit breathless: ]
They've got no idea.
[ as easy as picking a pocket of a tourist fresh off the boat in the harbor. ]
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Date: 2021-01-24 08:19 pm (UTC)Because two days go by, a dog whistle is acquired, and it's the two of them sneaking onto the Van Eck grounds in the middle of the night. Much of the estate is surrounded by grass and curated gardens, so he doesn't have to worry about hobbling along without his cane for a large portion. Inej makes her way in over the rooftop, as usual. He has to make do with carefully prying up a window. After the initial break in, it goes as smooth as butter. The dogs follow the whistle commands without a peep and Inej materializes soon after, footsteps soundless as she meets him at the vault. The lock is a complicated one, the pins on the inside so new they stick a bit, rather than sliding out of place on ones that see more use. So it's an uncomfortable delay, one that he ultimately triumphs over. The painting is slid from its frame and into a carrying tube he'd gotten just for this—couldn't have something so pricey ending up with water damage or something so inane.
Everything is locked back in place, the window shut how he'd seen it when he first came in, and Inej disappears back to the roof.
The guards she had taken care of eventually come to and raise the alarm, but not without the two of them having made significant headway back into the Staves. Kaz navigates the twisting alleys with practiced ease, knowing Inej is somewhere in the vicinity, just on her own path.
He posts up near a boarded window at their rendezvous point—it has a narrow slit between boards to look through. All the better to see the hurried lanterns of the stadwatch as they look for someone they won't ever catch. ]
Absolutely none. Not that it's hard to pull one over on. They can be an exceptionally stupid hive of bees.
[ Following one stream of thought in neat and orderly lines. That's always been the watch's problem.
Still, there's a grin in his voice as he turns to look over at her, the barest of light limning her outline. ]
What's your guess for the headline?
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Date: 2021-01-24 11:31 pm (UTC)Hmmm . . .
[ her tone is thoughtful, before she tilts her head up at him, with a slight grin, her face illuminated by the lamplights outside, the light peeking through the cracks in the dusty boards. ]
Something about 'Unbreakable Vault Broken Into; Thieves Unknown' or something like that. Just vague enough to count, but scathing enough to make Van Eck grind his teeth.
[ she shifts her feet, turning to push herself up onto the crate that kaz has situated himself on so he can look out the window a bit easier, settling next to him with half a laugh. ]
He will be furious.
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Date: 2021-01-24 11:51 pm (UTC)Normally, there'd be a sinking anxiety at such a reaction. He recognizes it, after all. Remembers Imogen and the gap in her teeth, her slow smile and the way she'd touched his sleeve. It's been a long time since he'd even let someone get under his skin enough for this.
In the aftermath of such a heist, though, the drag of fear is a pin drop. There's still adrenaline kicking through his system, delight in pulling something so technically difficult off. And of course, in fleecing a major pigeon. Van Eck had needed some humbling and they'd delivered on it. ]
Apoplectic. [ He lets out a huffed laugh, thinking about how furious Jan Van Eck must feel right now. ]
Those dogs of his didn't even twitch when you walked past.
[ In part because of the whistle. But mostly because she's the Wraith. So. Praise. Sort of? ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 12:20 am (UTC)maybe it was alright, then, if she loved him. it's hard to feel otherwise, in moments like this. ]
Of course they didn't.
[ obviously!! as she gently swings her feet, the crane high enough off the ground that her toes don't quite scuff the floor boards. rubber soles hardly make a noise, padding her steps to avoid any disgruntled dogs. ]
You really can break into every lock.
[ she says with no small amount of warmth, glancing in his direction, arching her eyebrows a little. a compliment for a compliment. ]
Even if it does take you forever.
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Date: 2021-01-25 12:46 am (UTC)Now it only leaves him disgruntled when she decides to let him feel her particular silence. Usually when she's irritated.
There's none of that here and now, not for either of them. He feels too buoyed by their success to let anything dampen it. At least, temporarily. ]
Shiny new locks like to stick. [ They're somewhat of a rarity, especially one of Van Eck's make and model. It's a lot of money to spend on security.
He pulls his gaze away from the window to turn it towards her, noting she's pushed her hood back. She's close, too. Not uncomfortably so; much like their distance on the roof of the Slat.
There's a strange temptation to close the gap. But he doesn't, his mouth curving conspiratorially instead. ]
Can't get every lock though. At least one requires two sets of hands.
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Date: 2021-01-25 12:51 am (UTC)still: ]
Something tells me you will figure it out with just your own two.
[ she almost leans over to bump her shoulder into his, but she stops herself. he has never touched her unless necessary, to boost her up or grab her in the rare street fight where someone gets close enough to her to have a shot. and she hasn't exactly touched him, either. the move feels too . . . much? which feels silly. ]
You promised me dinner, not an empty restaurant, by the way.
[ as she tilts her head toward more empty crates tucked into a corner, dusty tables that once held patrons pushed against the wall. ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 02:21 am (UTC)[ He's never had the chance to take a crack at it. In theory, he could probably think of some solutions for it. But he'd have to do some reading. Maybe when he had time, which he doesn't always have much of, these days. At least not for anything that doesn't make the gang some money.
Still, there's something thrilling in knowing she has that kind of faith in his skills. ]
Taste of victory not filling enough? [ He cocks and eyebrow but then grins, not able to keep the ruse up for long. ] The watch will be out of this area soon, we'll go get your dinner then.
[ Mostly he just wants to avoid any law enforcement asking about the leather tube he's carrying about. It's not exactly easy to hide. ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 01:45 pm (UTC)still, she does lean over to pluck the tube from under his arm, leather sliding against the wool of his coat as she catches it in a hand. ]
Well, if the taste of victory is enough, then I imagine you won't mind donating this to charity.
[ her tone is wry, as if she knows better than that. ]
My retirement fund, for one, is looking a little sparse.
[ given it is hopelessly in the red. ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 02:15 pm (UTC)Still, he can't help the little smile he gives her in return, her laughter infectious and her comment amusing. ]
Cut it any way you like, Inej, but Ketterdam would consider us charity cases.
[ But it's altogether given up on the people who live in the Barrel. Well, not live. More like scrape by, mostly.
He cuts a quick glance out the window, though his tone is wistful despite his alertness. ]
One day it won't. Come on then, we're clear.
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Date: 2021-01-25 06:26 pm (UTC)sometimes, that's a good thing. the girl she was died a long time ago. the girl she is now is someone to be feared. that has to count for something, in the end.
she does pause, though, at that. one day, it won't. and inej silently pushes herself off the crate and onto her feet, turning to hand the tube with the painting in it back to kaz. it's far easier for him to hide it in his coat than it is for her. she tries to leave as little a silhouette as possible, which involves not having clothing with a ton of pockets. ]
What do you think that looks like? Ketterdam respecting us. Or not being a charity case.
[ it's almost impossible to consider, really, as she makes her way out of the rendezvous point, slipping into the dark alleyway with a tilt of her head in his direction. he's in a good mood; she may as well push it.
and, she decides to continue with half a laugh, tossing him a slight grin as she slides her hands into the pockets of her jacket, choosing to take the slow path, with him. ]
Kaz Brekker finds his person, settles down, lives the rest of his life in domestic bliss.
[ the words tread down a dangerous path, but -- maybe it wouldn't be so bad. him knowing. or maybe it would. who knows. ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 06:53 pm (UTC)They won't be caught, though. He's sure of it.
Hopping off the crate, he rebalances easily and joins her as they make their way out of the abandoned restaurant and towards the street that'll lead them to dinner. It's not too far. ]
The merchant council would have to get their heads out of their asses first. I wouldn't count on that this century.
[ They like to cater to the merchers and middle class. It didn't matter that plenty of commerce and taxes were paid up collectively by the gangs in the Barrel. They were just dirt on a shoe to sneer at. ]
I'll take them recognizing they've got a wolf on their doorstep if they aren't going to show respect.
[ Better fear than nothing at all. They've grown comfortable. He's seen where that gets people—Haskell being one of them. He had a building falling down around his ears and a gang that was as feared as a bent spoon.
That's changed in the past few years. Because he'd been willing to take risks, even if he had to drag Per Haskell kicking and screaming into his schemes.
Her next comment has him snorting derisively. She was so observant and yet, this. ]
Oh yes, the monster of the Barrel ending up with a modest home and flower boxes in the window. Don't be a ridiculous podge, Inej.
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Date: 2021-01-25 07:00 pm (UTC)[ with an arch of her eyebrows in his direction, ignoring the insult and the dramatics as they walk, amused at the snort. kaz brekker might call himself a monster, but inej knows differently. there are little bits of light in there, peeking through. typically whenever they're alone, and almost never when other people are watching.
it hasn't escaped her notice that he instinctively grabs the door for her to pass through first, rather than walking on through like most of the other men in this part of town. ]
But I suppose you are right.
[ with a slight sigh, though just in case kaz brekker thinks that inej ghafa is caving to his pessimism, she adds: ]
I think we both know you are not going to have a modest house.
[ sir. ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 07:13 pm (UTC)I can help you. Echoes around in his head, the words as stark on his wrist since the day they first appeared. They haven't gone hazy or jumbled or wiped away, like they do when someone's soulmate is gone. So whoever it is, they're still out there.
Again, he thinks of the possibility of it being the girl next to him, her steps lighter than a cat's. And her persistent optimism, despite everything.
No, that's impossible. She would deserve better.
He could ask, throw her words right back, but he finds he can't pull the trigger. Not knowing is somehow easier. ]
They're in for a nasty surprise, poor sod. If the Barrel doesn't get to either us first, at any rate.
[ He fully intends on surviving because he's made it this far. Because he has revenge to carry out and he won't have that stolen from his fingertips.
But there's always the possibility someone with longer fangs will decide he's a threat and decide to put him six feet under. ]
No, I'm going to build a miniature palace in the middle of the mercher's neighborhood. Just to annoy them.
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Date: 2021-01-25 07:25 pm (UTC)he also doesn't ask her, something that makes her lips twitch into a faint smile as they walk, her hands burying a bit deeper into her jacket. he wants to remain in the unknown, which suits her just fine.
she, as always, keeps her secrets close to her vest. ]
No one is going to get to you.
[ she says first, because to do that, they would need to get past her. and inej has a hard time envisioning anyone capable of doing something like that. they would have a knife to their throat before they could breathe their first insult.
past that, though, her tone shifts to thoughtful. ]
How many rooms?
[ amused, at the thought of kaz living next door to someone like van eck. the council would certainly hate it. ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 08:42 pm (UTC)Still. A possibility. ]
Not easily or without a fight.
[ From either of them. She's proven time and time again that she's a survivor, like he is. ]
Twenty-five? Thirty? It'll obviously depend on the amount of acreage. I'll make them all garish and put complicated locks on all the doors. If the merchers complain, I can just say I was imitating their style.
[ Which is, quite frankly, hideous in most aspects. Who needs that much velvet everywhere? Do they like having their hair stick up in every direction from the static it passes? ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 10:55 pm (UTC)Thirty.
[ with a soft click of her tongue, in mock disapproval at the wastefulness. inej is nothing but practical. who on earth needs thirty rooms? inej barely uses the one that she has, and it isn't even hers. ]
Saints knows whoever you wind up with will need the patience of a goddess, if you are going to decorate the entire house in blue velvet out of spite.
[ because regardless of his pessimistic grumbling, there is someone for everyone. even if he is too blind to see her. maybe one day he will.
she pushes that thought of her head as they near dinner - simple, out of the way, open twenty-four-seven. cheap and generally populated by those of their ilk, thieves and conpeople who need a quick bite to eat. but the eggs and toast are delicious, and their waffles are top notch. kaz had promised her dinner . . . which is turning into more breakfast, at this hour of night. whatever. it counts. ]
Should we get it to go and eat on the roof?
[ she asks, thoughtful, as she glances toward him. ]
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Date: 2021-01-25 11:48 pm (UTC)[ Does he think he'll ever need that many? Absolutely not. He's content with his attic room, despite it being three floors up. But he'd needed the quiet and to make a very direct point to the rest of the Slat's inhabitants: he wasn't an invalid. There were certainly some days he had the tinge of regret for being so stubborn. Namely when a storm started blowing in from the harbor. It made his knee ache something awful.
But that just meant once he did get up the stairs, he could grumble about it in peace. ]
Or a god, you never know. [ That's a thing. He has eyes and ears. And he's been living in the Barrel long enough—here people don't care nearly as much about who they're sleeping with. They don't have to be preoccupied with producing heirs or whatever awful leash the merchers have decided to hang themselves with. ]
Why stop at blue? I could have the gamut. [ Thinking about it makes him cringe, just a bit. So awful. ]
It's your dinner.
[ So, they'll eat wherever she wants. ]
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Date: 2021-01-26 12:10 am (UTC)maybe because she's never really envisioned him with anyone else but her. ]
I always wondered what Geels' first words were, to you.
[ she muses, as she pauses outside the restaurant door, glancing over the outdoor menu. she doesn't bother answering about her preferences concerning dinner - she wants to eat on the roof, so she will. ]
No wonder you keep it so closely under wraps. The scandal that would be, the future of the Dregs running off with the Black Tips.
[ she pauses for half a moment. ]
Whipped cream or no?
[ :) ]
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