Poisonous Fox

Absorption 2.4.2.1



Absorption 2.4.2.1

I hastened my steps as I approached Ma’Ritz. Without wearing a time-piece, I was forced to rely on the bell towers to confirm the time of day. And while the noon bell had yet to ring, I knew it was coming soon.

And I had other concerns besides reaching Ma’Ritz before my shift started. For as I climbed Blossom Hill, I felt the unease of eyes upon the back of my neck. This left me diligent in avoiding anyone that might have been untoward, either from one of the local gangs that I had offended, or the Baron’s men, the ‘peacekeepers.’

As I passed the Academy, several groups were loitering along the streets and sidewalks. Likely, there had been some sort of event to gather the crowds. I felt a moment’s apprehension, before I realized the opportunity that this presented. If I had been pursued, I could easily lose those pursuers or watchers here. But not only that, as I eyed the crowds and noted their wealth, I realized that another opportunity presented itself.

From a pocket, I pulled out a thin and glossy shawl of neutral coloring. I wrapped it around my head, obscuring my hair. Now, if I kept my face down, I would be just another in the crowd. Not a girl with distinctive hair on her way to a distinctive brothel.

Next, I selected my path to fall against those that wore gaudy jackets and exterior pouches, I dove into the crowds.

After this, I was prepared. It would be a bit awkward with the sack from the ethnic-food store in one hand, but it would work. In fact, it would likely add to my cover. Glancing down at my false-arm, the gelatinous material surrounding three-and-some tendrils, I thought I could do it. I had been working with my reflexes extensively, including my interactions with the false-arm.

It mostly listened now, so long as I was not in danger, and so long as I was making some sort of progress towards finding Emboru’s sibling. I had mostly gotten over being disturbed by the seemingly sentient parasite attached to me. Its benefits outweighed the costs, at least so far.

I first brushed against a group of middle-aged and middle-classed folks. One of them wore flashy teals and golds. I stumbled against them, the ‘fingers’ of my false arm stretching and coiling around the man’s purse strings, before the tendrils pinched hard enough to sever the leather. The tendrils surrounded the pouch as I ducked away.

“Hey! Watch it!” a man shouted as I stumbled away.

I ducked my head in apology as I kept moving, pushing my way through another group, and depositing the stolen purse within an inner coat pocket.

I bumped against two more targets, although I only managed to snatch another pouch. One of my targets kept their pouch on the inside of their belt. I likely could have overcome the obstacle, but it would have taken more preparation and exposed me to greater risk. In the end, I decided to play it safe and abandon the mark.

Stealth I: 8/9 (+1)

Besides, two of three was just fine, considering the penalties for losing.

Having exited the crowds coming from the Academy, I went another block before dipping down a narrow walkway between buildings. I emptied the pouches of their Chargers and tossed them, before removing my shawl as I walked through and exited to the other side of the walkways. I continued the rest of the way along the sidestreet, arriving at the rear of Ma’Ritz.

From there, I went to the heavy metal door in the back, the entrance to the kitchen.

Of course, the door locked itself whenever it shut. Just my luck that the door was shut. I knocked on it several times and waited.

A minute later, I was still waiting. I knocked again, and as I knocked, the door swung open.

“Yeah yeah, I’m com–” one of the under-cooks, a girl named Anne, said as she opened the door.

I pulled back from knocking, nearly striking her face.

“-Oh! Jackie,” Anne smiled. “What brings you this way?”

Her eyes roved up and down, lingering a second on my bulging pouch, before lingering a moment on the satchel containing Cook’s order.

“-That for me?” she finished asking.

I scoffed and brushed past her. “No,” I answered at the same time, “it’s for Cook.”

“So basically for me,” she said, quickly following after me.

I rolled my eyes and kept moving through the pantry towards where Cook likely was working in the kitchen proper. “No, it’s for Cook.”

“C’mon,” Anne wheedeled. “I’ll hand it to her, just–” she tried reaching for the satchel, which I deftly maneuvered away from her. She was left swiping empty air.

I picked up my pace, leaving Anne behind with her complaints and her mouth hanging open.

“-hey! Come back!” she protested from behind.

I ignored her and stepped into the hot and pungent kitchen. Cook glanced up from where she leaned against a wall, watching a pot simmer.

“Jackie,” Cook said, her eyes quickly scanning both myself and Anne, flicking back and forth in the sort of way only a cat could. “Is my favor repaid?” she asked, obviously noticing the sack.

I nodded and held out the bag for her to take. Anne lingered behind me scowling, but otherwise remaining silent.

Cook strode over and took the bag, opening it and peering in. She inhaled deeply and sighed, almost purred, in pleasure. “This one is pleased.”

For a moment, I thought of asking about the fact that her favored supplier was on the other side of town, in the worst part of the slums. But trusting that Cook knew what she was about, I held my peace.

However, as Cook took the bag and stowed it in the ice-box, she asked me, “Did any issues occur? The area is unsafe at the best of times, even during daylight.”

I nodded, “A few. I brought Sir Kate with me, and we encountered a few interesting characters.”

“Any of note?” Cook asked, turning her full gaze upon me, her ears perked up and twitching.

“A few…” I said, trailing off and remembering the child that Kate had handled. I shuddered and decided to avoid mentioning, or even thinking of, that event. Instead, I said, “Plenty of Kaiva though.”

“As would be expected…”

“Several with rounded ears–”

Cook hissed, “-not Kaiva.”

“Right,” I said, nodding. “That’s about what the Kaiva that were there said when I asked about them. They were upset enough that I thought we were going to have to fight them.”

“Fight a kunbeorn? In the city?” Cook asked, intrigued.

“I’m not sure they were kunbeorn,” I said. Kunbeorn was the human term for tamed and trained Kaiva, a rather insulting term used to describe domestic slavery. It was surprising that Cook had been the one to use it, considering the term could be applied to her as well.

“Why?” Cook asked, a little more intensely than previous.

I edged a step away from her. “They were missing collars,” I said a bit more quietly, suddenly feeling very awkward with the conversation.

“Like me, then?” Cook asked. For she also wore no collar. However, I had never learned the details of her exact situation. I merely shrugged. “Of course, the kit would not know.” Cook shook her head. “Any other encounters? How did the kit find the shop itself?”

“It was amazing,” I said truthfully. “The smells…” I trailed off, remembering the mouth-watering aroma, the jerky Kate had purchased and shared, the way the flavors burst on my tongue, and the way the sustenance had energized me, in such a way that meohr-meat could not achieve.

Cook smirked, her sharp teeth poking through her fur covered lips. Her whiskers twitched in amusement. “Of course,” she said.

“There was one more person in the store though, well, two actually. Kate almost picked a fight with one. The second one saved the day. Apparently the belligerent was the servant of the white-furred one.”

Cook’s tail froze. “A servant? Describe the white-furred one. Male?”

“No, definitely not,” I said, remembering the regal air she carried herself with, the snow white fur. “She had bright green eyes and very sleek white fur. She also wore very rich clothing, surprising for that side of town.”

“Interesting…” Cook muttered to herself. “Was any name given?”

I shook my head. I would have been interested in learning more about that particular Kaiva as well.

“The kit performed well,” Cook finally said, though seemingly still half distracted. “Let this one prepare a fitting meal as reward.”

I grinned in appreciation. Even if running to the store was me repaying a favor to Cook, that did not mean I would not also profit from the task.

“We’ll have to be fast, though,” I said. “My shift starts soon.”

“Bah,” Cook said, waving her hand. “The girl can cover the first part. Come. Relax. There is a quick spiced curry that this one has been craving. Watch as our midday meal is prepared.”

As she began filling a pot with ingredients, she pulled diced heart-meat from the ice-box.

Already, my mouth was watering. In the background, I saw Anne making gagging motions and leaving, likely to slack-off in the back.

***

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism I (1/9):

Climbing I (4/9)

Featherlight I (3/9)

Inversion (2/9)

Gymnastics (2/9)

Stealth I (8/9) (+1)

Trackless Tracks I (3/9)

Area Coverage (5/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver I (1/9)

Evasion I (1/9)

Impending Sense (2/9)

Lucky Break (6/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (8/9)

Guise of the Kitsune (5/9)

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)

***

At first, I thought the day had been going well.

I had sparred with Kate, performing well enough to impress her. I had run an errand for Cook, ensuring my continued supply of one of the only types of food I could stomach on this mothersworn world. And finally, I had been rewarded with a phenomenal meal, a rich and meaty curry. Besides the hiccups that occurred while running the errand itself, the day had been going well.

And then my lunch-shift started.

But even then, things had not turned sour until several hours in.

During my shift, Marianne and I split the floor as usual, with myself focusing more on the tables, and Marianne the tavern bar. I would take the orders, Marianne would mix and deliver the drinks, and the system worked. Until there entered a group of rough looking characters, who did not seem to belong in Ma’Ritz, let alone on Blossom Hill.

In this group there were three men with scruffy beards and patched clothes. They stank of grease, their fingernails harbored filth, and their beady little eyes bore such contempt that I knew this would be a difficult table.

Naturally, I attempted to avoid the table, sensing something amiss. I offered Marianne the opportunity to serve them instead. Marianne took one glance at the table, then me, and shook her head.

“Sorry Jackie,” she said. “This one’s on you. My hands are full enough as is.”

With my plans of deflecting my unpleasant duties onto Marianne foiled, I approached the table of three ruffians.

One of them gestured towards me as I approached. The most boisterous among them, whom I considered their de facto leader, turned towards me with a sneer.

“Bout time somebody serves us,” he said.

The complaint caught me off guard, causing me to almost miss a step. My reflexes kicked in, allowing me to smoothly recover. From the outside, I doubted anyone would have detected the near fumble.

“I beg your pardon?” I said. “You’ve only just sat down though.”

“Course we get the girl with lip. Just our luck,” he said.

One of his friends scoffed, and the other gave a mean grin.

My eyes flicked over their arms and clothes, looking for any obvious gang signs or colors. However, none were present. This did not mean that they were not members of some gang, but typically the Pit Crews were fairly proud of their affiliations.

I bit back a groan, and decided that my best course of action would be to remain professional. “May I take your orders? Anything to drink?” I asked.

“Sure. Couple of ales. And make it quick! The boys’re thirsty.”

Two of them cheered at the mention of the ‘boys.’ The testosterone was stifling.

“Certainly,” I said, as I hastened away to place their order.

When I returned to the server’s station, I met Marianne there.

“Rough table?” Marianne asked, concern writ across her face.

I nodded, “Yeah. I think they came in with a grudge against me. That or they’re naturally antagonistic.”

Marianne made a furtive glance towards them as she poured their pale ales. “I think it might be against you,” she said. “I noticed them stealing glances at you as you walked away…” she bit her lip, pausing a moment. “Want me to take over?”

“Are you certain?” I asked, appreciative of the offer. Despite my initial attempt to foist off my duties upon her, I actually had no desire to see her placed into a compromising position.

Marianne gave a slight smile, the edge of her lips curling up in an endearing fashion. “You know I handle difficult customers better,” she said.

I scoffed playfully, falling into something of our routine. “Maybe better at appeasing them, but not kicking them to the curb.”

She winked as she finished setting the ales on a platter and carried them over to the table. I watched as closely as I could without making my observations obvious; my goal being to ensure the hand-off from myself to Marianne went well.

But after Marianne set the drinks down and began to ask for their meal orders, their leader held up his hand to forestall Marianne, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Nah. Bring the other girl back. Unless she’s slackin’ off. I see her over there, doin’ nothin.” He nodded towards me.

It was too late for me to look away, so I chose to address this issue head on, and I approached the table and Marianne.

“I’m so sorry!” Marianne said. “But Jackie has a bit of a rap. You know her main job here is actually security at night! She just helps me out during the day–” Marianne continued speaking, making excuses to cover the hand over, all the while wringing her hands.

“It’s fine, Marianne,” I said, cutting off the flurry of anxious words she was delivering. “If these men are willing to go so far as to request my aid, personally, then there is not much else for it.”

Marianne winced, as though pained, apologized to both myself and the table once more, before ducking away, fleeing back towards the safety of the bar.

As soon as she left, I turned my full attention back onto the men. I suspected that this entire situation was contrived, though making an accusation would do my position no good. Instead, I played along with them.

“What can I bring for you, then?” I asked them.

One of them sneered. “The special,” their leader said. “Chop. Chop.” The third one said in a demeaning fashion, adding a clap to each word.

“The same for all three of you?” I asked.

“Course,” the leader said.

Either these men had ill intentions for after their meal, or they somehow planned to leverage the meal against me in some fashion. When they had requested my service specifically, it made it obvious that they had entered the tavern with a target in mind. But, what move did they have in mind? This was what I was unsure of.

“Would you like me to inform you of what the special is today?” I asked, hoping to gain further insight as to their intentions.

“Gods, woman!” their leader said. “Just bring us our food! We’re starvin!”

I gave a slight incline of my head. “Very well,” I said.

I took several steps back before turning, ensuring my back was never vulnerable to these knaves.

Some minutes later, Marianne and I managed to reconvene at the server’s station.

“Jackie,” Marianne said. “I don’t like the look of that table.”

I gave an uncharacteristic snort. “What gave them away?” I asked her.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

I just shook my head, keeping my suspicions to myself. At the same time, I felt both amused and wary. Truly, Marianne was a gem. I would need to take care that whatever plots these men were part of never touched her.

Soon, their order was up. I placed them carefully on the holding tray. The special that day was vegetable based, with steamed grains. There was a sauce as well. Altogether, it stank. Truly, the people of this country had horrid taste. Even the lichen and snails of the desolate and bleary wastes tasted better than the foul concoctions that these people oft enjoyed.

And it was these concoctions that I carried to the table of misfits and roustabouts.

“Here she comes,” one of the men said in a low and hushed voice.

As I came in to set the tray down, the leader twisted, his elbow flying out in what was an obviously staged accident, aimed at the tray.

My instincts kicked in. Even before he started to move, I was pivoting and raising the platter up above my head.

Eschiver I (2/9) (+1)

“Oops–?” the man started to speak, a malicious tone that trailed off in confusion.

“Apology accepted,” I said dryly, then leaning down and setting the platters on the table. “Perhaps be more careful in the future?” I said, bordering on the border of allowed passive-aggressive behaviors. “I would hate to see a customer come to harm…”

He scoffed. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. He quickly regained his bearings, and then glanced down at the plates, sneering especially hard. “What’s this shit?”

“The special,” I answered.

“Nah. That’s not what we ordered. Ain’t that right?” he asked his friends.

I rolled my eyes. As if they could practice subtly at all with their machinations.

“Take it back,” he demanded.

“And what should I tell the kitchen?” I asked, with as neutral of a voice as I could manage.

“Not my problem,” he said. “I’m not the one that messed up.”

I had a few other questions I might have asked, but I decided that doing so would hardly provide any necessary information, and would only exacerbate the situation, prolonging my own suffering by these ruffians and their presence.

“Very well,” I said, piling the plates once more upon the tray, before heading back to the kitchens.

“What’s wrong?” Marianne asked, glancing at the platter. “Did they not want the special?”

“I guess not,” I said. “Though they gave no reason.”

“That… that makes no sense!” she exclaimed, her expression slightly flustered. “What–”

“Marianne,” I said. “Relax. They’re after me, not you.”

“But… why?”

“We’ll have to wait and see,” I said. “Should I go back and take their order again?” I asked.

“Maybe?” Marianne asked, somewhat distracted as she watched the entryway. The door to the restaurant had just opened. I followed her eyes and saw that Tiffany had just entered.

I licked my lips, half smiling as I finally realized the game.

Tiffany looked about the floor, before sighting and then honing in on the ruffians.

Marianne must have put two and two together as well, as she gasped. “No! She wouldn’t!”

“It looks like she is, though,” I said, eavesdropping as the men began loudly complaining about their server and the horrible experience thus far. Tiffany apologized loudly and profusely, and then left towards Ma’s office, with the leader of the ruffians in tow. “Why do you think she’s after me?” I mused, glancing at Marianne.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “But we need to get to Ma and explain our side of the story first!”

I scoffed. “I’m confident that we cannot beat them there, and causing a scene in front of Ma will do us no favors. Besides… one of us needs to watch the floor. Not both of us can leave.”

“But… but what will you do?” Marianne asked, her voice somewhat smaller. Seeing this, I put a comforting hand on Marianne’s shoulder.

“Wait a few minutes, and then go and defend myself,” I answered.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism I (1/9):

Climbing I (4/9)

Featherlight I (3/9)

Inversion (2/9)

Gymnastics (2/9)

Stealth I (8/9)

Trackless Tracks I (3/9)

Area Coverage (5/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver I (2/9) (+1)

Evasion I (1/9)

Impending Sense (2/9)

Lucky Break (6/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (8/9)

Guise of the Kitsune (5/9)

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)

***

“Good luck!” Marianne wished in a hushed voice as I headed towards the back hallway of the tavern, the hallway that connected the two halves of the business, and that held the doorway to Ma’s office. I turned my head and grinned at her. She had no reason to feel concern. For the men had targeted me, and for some reason Tiffany had joined them in their plots.

I reached the hallway and leaned against the wall outside Ma’s office. I heard voices in there, including one of the men that had complained so vigorously about the quality of my service. I decided to wait there until the door opened. With the surveillance system that Ma had, she would undoubtedly already know I was there.

As I waited, I reviewed what I knew of the men, and of why Tiffany might have joined in on their idiotic plot to defame me. While I could not be certain, I thought the men might have originated from the slums. There were several groups of enemies that I had made from that side of the town, most notably the Garnets, one of the Pit Crews. The men could have also been put up to this by the baron’s men. The Peacekeepers. This city’s equivalent of the most corrupt police force.

But what leverage did either of those groups have over Tiffany? Perhaps I was overthinking it. It could have been as simple as a bribe. Or conversely, a threat.

Soon, the door opened, and the man walked out, with Tiffany following.

“Wait a moment, Tiffany,” Ma’s voice sounded from inside, causing Tiffany to pause in her exit.

The man himself missed a step when he saw me leaning against the wall, though he recovered admirably.

“Expect you’ll be outta here soon,” he sneered. “Then we’ll see ‘bout accounting those differences.”

I nodded my head, as though in thought. “Garnets, then?” I asked him.

He seemed taken aback, then shook his head. “Be seein you,” was all he said as he went far out of his way to shoulder bump me as he left. Even then, I still easily deflected him, sending him stumbling into the wall.

“Bitch,” he swore under a low voice, stomping off.

I shook my head as he left, resisting the urge to grin with defiance. It would not do for Ma to mistake my expression for pleased. For, while the men and their ploy had been obvious to me, and while I suspected that was also true for Ma, the situation still required me to play the aggrieved party.

Ma’s voice called from within the office.

“Enter,” she said.

Tiffany glared at me before sending a concerned glance towards Ma as I entered.

Ma, sitting behind her desk, gave a weary sigh and almost seemed to deflate. Against the wall, there were plenty of surveillance windows, where tubes of mirrors terminated in an array to provide a dim view of the floors, hallways, and even some of the rooms.

“Shut the door behind you,” Ma said. She was watching the window of the tavern floor, where the man had just entered from the back entrance, before returning to his friends at their table. He nodded to them, said something. One of the others laughed, and then all three of them got up to leave. “Did they pay their tab, Jackie?” Ma asked me.

I shook my head. “Not unless Marianne collected it while I was waiting.”

“Hm. Doubtful.”

“With all due respect, Madame,” Tiffany began. “But should they have to pay after the offense that the new-girl gave?”

I opened my mouth to protest, as the men had most certainly drank their ales, and despite sending the food back, they had ordered it, and the food had met expectations. But, the fools paying their tab was not really what this was all about, and I suspected Ma knew that. Because when I began to protest, Ma arched an eyebrow towards me, causing the words to die before they had left my throat. My mouth snapped shut.

“Tiffany,” Ma said, her tone unamused. “Why?”

“Pardon, Madame?” Tiffany said, taken aback.

“Why did you send those louts in?” she asked.

“I am unsure as to what–”

“Tiff,” Ma said flatly. “If you’re going to play at subterfuge, you ought to get more practice. But what I really need to know right now, is why. Why do you want Jackie to be excised from our business?”

“Well…” Tiffany said, before clearing her throat. “She’s trouble.”

I gave Tiffany a considering look. Ma signaled with her hand for Tiffany to continue.

“She’s a killer. She’s drawing undue negative attention down on us, and it’s putting the rest of us at risk.”

“This is about the incident some weeks back?” Ma said, as though refreshing her memory. “Where several thugs mugged and likely planned to kill a patron?”

Tiffany winced, “They weren’t just ordinary thugs.”

“Ah.” Ma nodded. “You’re ties to the slums then?”

Tiffany deflated, “They threatened me. And they threatened the establishment. Is she really worth keeping around with all the danger?”

“If only the Peacekeepers did their job,” Ma shook her head. “Or if the lower knights were welcomed on Blossom Hill…”

It had confused me at first, but I had figured out the three main law enforcement agencies in the city. There were the peacekeepers, which were the corrupt guards hired by the baron to collect ‘taxes.’ Then, there were the lower knights, which Kate’s aunt was a member of. They were responsible for domestic enforcement, but the peacekeepers prohibited them from Blossom Hill, which left the lower knights in the mercantile districts. And finally, there were the high knights, which were a glorified highway patrol. Their primary duty was to monitor traffic entering and leaving across the bridge. Which made them almost border-guards. In this instance, Ma was complaining about the baron’s men, as they had permitted the thugs to operate against Ma’Ritz.

“And then we have the girl flaunting around in everyone’s faces,” Tiffany said, complaining once more. “It’s unbecoming. We aren’t supposed to be fighters. That’s not what the rest of us should be associated with.”

Ma tapped her chin. “You’ve made your case Tiffany,” Ma said.

This caused me some concern, as it appeared that Ma was actually considering what Tiffany had said. This caused me to second guess myself and wonder if perhaps I had misread the situation.

Ma turned towards me. “What about you?” she asked.

“Me?” I answered with a question, unsure of what she was after.

“You start at the Academy next week, yes?”

My eyebrows lifted slightly. I had not realized that the term began so soon.

Ma continued, “You’ll hardly be able to keep working the equivalent of two jobs during this time… And it seems that most of our problems are stemming from the tavern floor.”

Tiffany protested, “We can’t seriously be paying for the girl to attend schooling! That’s obscene!”

“Esmerelda is, not us. Have you not noticed the extra clients Esmerelda has been taking? The sheer volume is impressive.”

Tiffany crossed her arms and frowned. “I… have not, no.”

“And Jackie has performed admirably at securing the premise after hours,” Ma said. “There have been several break-ins in the area, and apparently the riff-raff from the lower city have been infiltrating the Hill. If we had to focus her efforts in one area…” Ma paused thoughtfully, as though playing something through her head. Finally, she gave a nod. “Here’s what we’ll do…”

“Jackie, you’re off of tavern duties. From henceforth, you’ll only perform security, which I expect you’ll still cover the first shift of, even after you begin attending the Academy. But until then, you’ll cover the entire night. At least until I can find another guard, as apparently the Peacekeepers are worthless.”

“But what about the tavern floor?” Tiffany asked. “Marianne was struggling by herself, especially when it’s busy.”

“We’ll have to find another girl to help then,” Ma said. “But until then, since you’re so concerned Tiffany, and since you pulled this stunt, I want you working the tavern before your own night-work.”

“But… I need that time to prepare for my clients!” Tiffany protested. “And… And I’ll be all greasy from the shift! I don’t want to smell like food, and the clients won’t like it either…”

Ma snorted. “It’s a temporary solution,” Ma said. “And if you’re worried about how you smell, then use perfume. Now, anything else? Any other protests? Or sour customers to hear out?”

I shook my head while Tiffany scowled.

“Good. Jackie, head upstairs and take a nap. You look like shit. Tiffany will cover the rest of your evening shift.”

Soon, both Tiffany and I left Ma’s office.

Tiffany muttered under her breath, but I could not quite hear what she said. She left for the floor, and I wondered just how Marianne would take it. I hoped that the girl would not be too upset with my reassignment.

Once I got upstairs to the living quarter, I decided to take a much needed respite. I bathed, cleaned myself, and laid back upon my thin mattress. Before I drifted off in my nap, I wondered at just where I would begin my search for Emboru’s kin, and just what I was biting off with the Academy. And then, on top of that, there was Sir Kate, a ridiculous title for a ridiculous girl who did ridiculous things… but who also caused my heart to race and my cheeks to warm. But, I could not also forget that somewhere in the city was Princess Marissa, who had apparently taken some sort of interest in my new identity. And of course, the mothersworn gangs that were holding a grudge against me.

I supposed it was a good thing I had learned to fight. It seemed like a skill I would need sooner rather than later.

With all of my concerns, I hardly rested at all.

Soon, evening came, lanterns lit, and my night-shift began. I had to wonder if the Garnets would make a move soon. And if not, what could I gain from my surroundings? Afterall, Ma’Ritz was surrounded by the wealthy. And I was certain there would be some items of note in the businesses, if not the manors.

That night found me perched on top of the roof of Ma’Ritz, wondering just where I should start. It was as I was lurking, plotting, and perhaps, sulking, that I spied upon a cloaked figure hidden in the shadows of a nearby wall. They were watching the back entrance of Ma’Ritz. From where I watched, three stories above, and from across the street, all I could make out was their figure, their pale skin, and their bright green eyes.

I decided to head down and introduce myself.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism I (1/9):

Climbing I (4/9)

Featherlight I (3/9)

Inversion (2/9)

Gymnastics (2/9)

Stealth I (8/9)

Trackless Tracks I (3/9)

Area Coverage (5/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver I (2/9)

Evasion I (1/9)

Impending Sense (2/9)

Lucky Break (6/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (8/9)

Guise of the Kitsune (5/9)

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)


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