Poisonous Fox

Evasion: 7/9 (+1)

Eschiver: 8/9 (+1)

Stealth I: Area Coverage: 4/9 (+1)

Guise of the Kitsune: 2/9 (+1)

I tasted vomit.

My eyes creaked open, the light spilling in from the window shutters, leaving me wincing.

My head was throbbing.

For a moment, I struggled to recall my arrival.

I was laying on a thin mattress, with a coarse blanket bunched up around me, pressing against my skin. That worried me. For far too much of my skin was in contact with the blanket… far too much of my skin felt the air.

I had been stripped and tossed into bed.

Regardless of my pounding headache, my eyes went wide and I sat up straight.

Was I safe? I wondered.

Before I further panicked, I surveyed my surroundings. I appeared to have been set in a bunk room on an upper level of a building in a nicer part of the city. I hardly smelled the exhaust or human waste here, and the view outside was a far cry from the slums I had seen previously. In the room there were three sets of bunk beds, trunks, and a few wardrobes.

Hanging from a dressing chair was a familiar yellow dress and jacket, along with my knapsack.

Relief flooded me as I saw those.

How foolish had I been, doing whatever it was I had done?

I had thought my alchemical immunity would have protected me… did it not? I was unclear what exactly happened.

I hurried to get dressed, only nearly falling over once due to vertigo.

Distressingly, my left arm had been on full display, though the silver tint had only grown, and the alien tendrils could no longer be seen through the gelatinous substrate. Fortunate.

I had just finished sliding the dress on when the door opened, without knocking.

“Glad to see you’re up,” a rather large woman said as she entered. “Was about to come wake you.”

The woman was tall, thick boned, muscled, and all while still retaining a feminine grace. Notably, her skin had a greenish hue, which complimented her straw-colored hair. She carried herself with confidence, and I felt an urge to back away and hide.

“Where… ?” I started to ask, but she waved off the question and snorted.

“Where’s here?” The woman smirked. “Ma’Ritz. You never left. Or did you drink so much as to forget the city’s name, in which case Southbridge. How are you alive, by the way? I assume something to do with your Marks?”

Her eyes glanced to my right arm which had just gone into the dress’s sleeves. If she had been the one to undress me, then there would have been no hiding those tattoos. Or the tendrils. As she had yet to turn me in to the authorities, either she was planning on blackmailing me, or, she failed to realize what they were. I hoped for the latter.

“I think so,” I answered, “Though I would have thought them to do more.” I doubted I wanted to get into the details of just what I could do, at least not yet. I changed the subject. “What happened to…” I realized I forgot his name “...to the boy?” I finished rather namely.

She snorted. “Was hoping you could tell me the gent’s name. For your own good, really.”

“...why?” I asked, disliking the amusement she seemed to be deriving from this.

“Oh, no reason. Just, he ran off without paying the substantial tab…”

I grimaced.

“Oh,” I said.

“Oh indeed,” she mocked. “Think you can afford it? Or should we send a runner to your home?”

Presumably, she meant to send a messenger home to my parents, family, friends, or coworkers–anyone that would be willing to fork up the money for me. But that was an issue.

“I…” I trailed off as I thought about it, but she took it to mean something else.

“You can afford it?” she asked, briskly.

“No, I probably can,” I said, before hedging, “At least I should still have enough, assuming I wasn’t robbed last night.”

“If you’re talking about your bag, nobody’s gone through it.” She turned to a mirror and straightened her hair, before kissing the air. She continued after primping. “Now, whether that boy rifled through it before leaving, who can say. You do have friends or family that can pay?” She turned her attention back towards me, cocking an eyebrow.

I licked my lips, still thinking about how to play this.

“What if I don’t?” I asked, thinking of getting ahead of whatever would be coming next.

“What if you don’t… what? Have friends you mean?” She asked, cocking her head. “Why? Surely you do.”

That was the question though. Did I? Did I know anyone here?

If the boy, whatever his name was, had left me to foot the tab, then he had no intention of following up with me, which meant he and his father were out of the picture. Because while they could still come back, I doubted that they would. More likely, they would wait to see if I came for them. When I never did, they would likely consider the matter closed.

So much for the father wanting a favor.

If I knew nobody, and I needed a place to stay, to learn more about the city, then there would hardly be a worse place to start.

“I’m new to town,” I finally answered, deciding to take a risk. “I don’t have anywhere else…” I lowered my head, imitating a downcast expression.

Unfortunately, the woman failed to buy it.

“So you thought you’d throw yourself on our mercy?” she sounded amused.

“No,” I said quickly, allowing the irritation to come through, forgetting the goal of sounding pathetic, especially since it failed to prompt the desired response. “That boy said he’d pay, and I guess I made the mistake of trusting him. Now, I think… I think that I have enough on me to pay. But…”

“It would cut into your budget…” she tossed her head side to side thinking, before shrugging. “We can check with Ma, but we might be able to take you on. With your looks and your Marks, we could probably employ you alongside Marianne.”

I did not know who Marianne was, nor who Ma was, and what a ridiculous name at that, but I figured I could find out who they were later. Now that I thought of it though, I realized I was unsure who the woman I was currently speaking to was named.

I finished dressing then turned to her, holding out my hand. “Jackie,” I introduced myself.

She looked at it briefly, then smirked and took it in her own, her hand easily dwarfing my own. Her fingers were soft though, and warm. Her grip felt a bit tighter than necessary. “Esmerelda Bogswraith,” she said. “Grab your things and let’s go.”

That gave me a second’s pause. Was she unconfident in my chances then? Not that I wanted to leave my belongings behind, but the fact that she wanted me to bring them along left me somewhat worried. I decided to fish for a bit more.

“I thought my stuff was safe?” I asked.

“It was safe,” she said. “But not now. If you end up working a deal with Ma, then you’ll get a trunk like this one–” she kicked at an empty trunk on the floor. “Now, ready?”

That time, she did not wait. She was turning and walking out the door, down the hallway.

I hurried after her, struggling to match her pace, marveling at the decor.

The hallway spoke of wealth. The floors were paneled with dark wood, and then covered with a fine carpet down the center. The walls had been decorated with crystal lamp sconces, and the doors appeared numbered and thick. Soon, we reached the stairs, and we traveled down to the second floor, which was much the same, and then to the ground floor, the main floor of the establishment.

Esmerelda led me further back, past the kitchens, all the way to the end of a back hallway to the last door. There, she paused, glancing behind her at me and catching my eye before winking. Then, she knocked.

A voice answered abruptly, presumably Ma. She sounded short of patience and irritated, shouting through the door, “What?!”

That sounded less than promising. “Sounds like we caught her at a bad time,” I said.

Esmerelda huffed through her nostrils, then in a lower voice to keep it from carrying through the door, “That’s her happy tone,” Esmerelda said, before raising her tone and speaking through the door. “It’s me! Brought the girl with the purple hair–from last night. The one with a hollow leg, remember her?”

“Vaguely,” Ma answered back, still through the closed door. “What’s the matter, she can’t pay?”

“Maybe,” Esmerelda said. “Look, Can we come in?”

“Fine,” Ma said, giving the impression of spitting. Something creaked from inside, before the door tumbled unlocked. Esmerelda pressed down on the doorknob and slowly pushed open the door, letting a plume of perfume fall out, overwhelming the hallway.

Ma had just returned to her seat by the time Esmerelda stepped in and gave me a view of Ma and the office both.

One wall was partially transparent and filled with fragmented views of the rest of Ma’Ritz. They were reminiscent of a bank full of security monitors, except instead of electronics, it seemed to be created by a relay of mirrors and opaque glass. The images were dim and offered a myriad of perspectives. The woman who had just sat down on a swivel chair, twisted about to face the door, so that her desk and the viewing windows were at her back. She was a thickset woman who wore far more makeup than I would normally advise, though it might have been the fashion for women combating their age. She had curves, and she wanted everyone to know that, seeing her cleavage and tightened bodice.

“Now what is it?” the woman asked, easing into the plump cushions of her chair. “Can she pay or can she not?”

Esmerelda hemmed a bit before shrugging and waving to me to answer.

I stepped in more fully, as I did so I realized that it was not only the single wall that had mirrors, but the others as well. Disturbingly, many of the surveillance views were of separate rooms, including what might have been bedrooms, though I failed to recognize the bunk room I had awoken in.

Ma cared not that I saw these displays, which meant the practice was common and above reproach, or that there was nothing I could do to move against her.

“Well?” she snapped her fingers. “Out with it.”

“I can pay…” I said slowly, having a difficulty getting a read on the woman.

“Then what’s the problem?” Ma asked, shifting her gaze to Esmerelda.

“She wants to pay with service,” Esmerelda explained.

“No,” Ma snapped. “No. We aren’t looking for new talent. You know that.”

If Esmerelda knew that, then why would Esmerelda have implied otherwise? It sounded like there was no room for negotiation at all here. I narrowed my eyes at Esmerelda, attempting to convey my displeasure for the awkward chat. If there was no hope, Esmerelda ought to have plainly told me. Then I would have searched through my bag for liquid currency, hoped I had enough, paid, then left. Or, if I lacked the money, escaped.

“If I may–” Esmerelda started to speak.

“Can she pay with Chargers–?” Ma cut her off.

“-yes-” Esmerelda said.

“-then Chargers it is!” Ma shouted. “It’s not a difficult concept to grasp, girl!”

“-she has a Greater Mark!” Esmerelda finally managed to get in edgewise.

Ma’s mouth clicked shut, and she glanced between Esmerelda and myself several times, before resetting with a huff and then smiling.

“Well, why didn’t you say that to begin with!”

What followed was a quick discussion of logistics, capabilities, and how I could likely help out. We had just gotten to the ‘help wanted,’ part of the conversation, when the door was pushed open again, and a prim, proper, and stern woman without a wrinkle to her name entered.

“What’s this about a new girl?” the newcomer asked.

“How’d you hear that?” Esmerelda said.

“Knowing you, and knowing her–” the new girl pointed at Ma “-and the fact you had yet to leave, I figured as much. But the fact is, we already don’t have enough work for the girls already here, not without dropping prices, and none of the girls want that.”

“Calm yourself, Tiffany,” Esmerelda said. “Does Jackie look old enough for that line of work?”

Tiffany looked me over dismissively, although her eyes lingered balefully on my hair.

“Then what else would she be doing? Marianne hardly needs assistance. It’s good for the girl to work for her keep.” Tiffany crossed her arms, and seemed like she wanted to scowl.

“That,” Ma said slowly, cutting in on Tiffany’s tirade. “And it’s likely she’ll be doing other duties.”

“At least tell me why?” Tiffany demanded. “So many people are hungry for work. So why her and not someone else?”

“Because!” Ma snapped. “Jackie comes with her own Marks,” Ma shrugged. “And we could use someone with that versatility.”

“Do you even know what her Marks do? Are they high grade at least? Or did you simply learn she had the Marks and hired her on the spot?”

Ma slowly licked her upper lip while nodding. “You’re not yet Madame, Tiffany. And at this rate, you might not ever be.”

Tiffany’s arms were crossed, not backing down.

Ma sighed gustily. “But you’re not wrong.” Ma turned to me. “So how about a test of that versatility.”

I nodded.

“We need someone to clean the grease traps.”

Esmerelda winced, and Tiffany laughed.

“Really?” Esmerelda asked Ma. “A little dangerous.”

“It needs doing,” Ma said with a shrug. “And it’s as fine a test as any. Esmerelda, show Jackie the cellars and what she needs.”

Tiffany shook her head, almost smiling. “Hope you like rats,” she taunted.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism (3/9):

Climbing I (2/9)

Featherlight I (3/9)

Inversion (2/9)

Stealth I (5/9)

Trackless Tracks I (3/9)

Area Coverage (4/9) (+1)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver (8/9) (+1)

Evasion (7/9) (+1)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (8/9)

Guise of the Kitsune (2/9) (+1)

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)