On The Outskirts of Senka
In the early morning, the masses began to trickle into the neighborhood known around the Undercity as Senka. Every morning, before most were even awake, around four and five, sellers and the most motivated of buyers began making their way into the shaded markets to get a jump on business. Most customers arrived a little later in the morning, in the primetime slot that started around six and lasted only until the point in the morning when the markets became crowded. Not only did the crowds make the best deals and connections harder to find, but they helped to hide the folks who Senka's sellers didn't want at the markets, folks like cops, like private detectives and journalists. From around eleven in the morning to ten at night, the crowds became thicker, and the most secretive of merchants shut down their operations, only to return in the late hours of the evenings to take advantage of the small slice of time where the crowds thinned while the markets remained open.
Morning, evening, noon, dusk, it all flowed together in the Undercity in a way that it didn't upstairs, in that world exposed to the sky. That didn't mean that the flow of time had no meaning in the depths of Olympia. On the contrary, it just allowed for the population to keep to their own rhythms, to distance themselves from the schedules of the world above, to a certain extent. Most folks, out of necessity and ease, kept to a similar schedule, but some Undercity residents had reason to stagger their schedules, to move out of lockstep with the masses so they could better hide their business. For these folks, becoming attuned to the subtle rhythms of the Undercity was more than just a way of making life easier; it was a necessity.
All of this, perhaps, explains why, not long past five in the morning, a youthful-looking woman lounges upon a rooftop just outside of Senka proper. She scans the street, her eyes darting to the source of every sign of motion as she tries to keep mental tabs on the number of people she sees going in and out of the shaded markets. She only takes her eyes off the street briefly, when she turns her head to munch upon her breakfast. Said breakfast consists of slices of Hyoi Pears, which she plucks from a nearby plain wooden bowl, the meal originally having been set out on a windowsill in the Outer City as a treat for the city's birds before she swiped it for herself. With her brown and white dress, brown cap, and flowing strings of pink ribbons to match her pinkish-brownish hair, she'd almost look unremarkable, like a fairly attractive woman but without much to set her apart, if not for two small things. The large pair of wings on her back and the celestial pattern adorning parts of them make her stand out immediately, further accentuated by the smaller decorative wings adorning her hat. Her nails, purple and long and sharp enough to be more properly called claws, similarly set her apart from Olympia's average residents.
Relatively unknown in the world due to her tendency to drift from place to place, Mystia Lorelei rarely bothered to explain her peculiar features to those around her, though there was a simple explanation. Mystia was a night sparrow, a curious mix of a bird and a yokai wandering the world. She and others of her kind had, on the whole, an inclination for mischief, a desire to strike fear into the hearts of others. Many myths had grown about night sparrows, some true generally and some with only a kernel of truth arising from one or two encounters with particular individuals. Some claimed, correctly, that they would inflict blindness on those who caught them or disturbed them. Others claimed, sometimes correctly and sometimes incorrectly, that they were portents of danger in the mountains, and that where there was a night sparrow, soon wolves would follow. Yet others claimed that they had an appetite for humans, a myth that was patently untrue but persisted thanks to the efforts of night sparrows who reveled in perpetuating such misconceptions.
Mystia, for her part, seems to express no interest in any mischief as she continues to monitor the street below. She only hums a song between bites, her range and vocal control clear even though she limits herself to merely humming as she scans the street. Though her eyes track closely the gradually-increasing foot traffic, her mind wanders as she curses her misfortunes. She had come to Olympia intending to join The Curse, certain that her unique skillset and cunning mind - as she described it to herself - would pave her an easy path into the organization's highest ranks. She had dreamed from the moment she first found out about The Curse of hobnobbing with men of wealth and power like Giovanni and Don Genie. When it came out that Natasha Nielsen, the CEO of Olympia TV, had been among The Curse's elite, Mystia had only grown more certain of her ability to manipulate her way to the top. Unfortunately for the night sparrow, however, that news only came out as part of The Curse's collapse. For her, the entire appeal of The Curse was wrapped up in the idea of joining a group that had already conquered a city, a group that she could join so she could manipulate her way up to the top ranks and step into a life of power and prestige without having to do any real work to attain her position. Sure, she could join The Cure, or try her luck with any of the little gangs vying to fill the power vacuum left by The Curse's collapse. But in either of those cases, she'd have to put in far too much effort for her tastes. She wanted to join a group that had already done most of the hard work for her, not some group that still had a long way to go to establish its dominance.
She had come to Olympia only months ago, arriving just as The Curse completely collapsed in October. It hadn't been all bad; she had been able to salvage the trip out here by finding another way to occupy her time and get by. It still irritated her, however, that she had been forced to waste so much time in the flying city with no plans for the future and minimal resources. She'd tried to find another group in the Undercity worth joining, but she had run into dead ends at every turn.
As she delves deeper and deeper into her self-pity, Mystia interrupts her humming to grumble something, her irritation only exacerbated as she absentmindedly reaches a hand into a now-empty bowl.
If only the Black Hole Gang were still around… They might've been able to rise up and clean house down here. What does a night sparrow need to do to fi-
Mystia's whining comes to an abrupt halt as she snaps her head around to look back down at the street. The traffic had picked up, but, at this precise moment, only a strange couple ambles their way towards Senka proper. Sensing an opportunity to make her first sale of the day, Mystia springs to her feet, knocking her empty bowl aside and sending it over the edge of the rooftop as she does. She leaps from her perch into a nearby alley, beating her wings to slow her descent so she can land safely. Once on the ground, she scrambles to retrieve a large, clearly jerry-rigged if passable food cart from its hiding place within the ally, wheeling it out into the street and setting herself up on the side of the road, far enough ahead of the couple she had spotted to give herself a few moments to prepare.
As the couple approaches, Mystia cheerfully calls out to the duo from behind her stand, loud enough for the pair to notice her but not so much that she'd attract unwanted attention to herself or her potential customers. Her well-rehearsed routine is as natural as breathing, at this point, and she puts on a much friendlier persona to attract her targets.
Up early, aren't we? I know how it is. The early bird catches the worm, right? But it's really more like "the early bird gets the shiny rock and forgets to eat breakfast". I'd bet you two are huuuuu-nger-y!
One member of the pair - the shorter, smaller man - turns his head to look at Mystia and her stand. He hesitates on his way for a moment, a brief moment of contemplation that Mystia takes notice of. The larger man, walking hand-in-hand with his partner, continues onwards without acknowledging Mystia, save for a shake of his head. Tugging on his partner's arm, he drags the smaller man along with him. Acting quickly to avoid losing her marks, Mystia continues her pitch.
It's cheeeeap! C'mon, you're hungry, right? I have something that's not like anything else you've had around here. And the best part? It's waaaaaarm! What could be a better start to your day than a nice hot breakfast?
Mystia watches with a satisfied smirk as the smaller man tugs on the larger man's sleeve, whispering something to him. After a brief conference, the two men turn back and start on their way towards her cart, the larger man looking rather grumpy about the whole ordeal. He's the first to speak once they arrive at the cart, immediately snapping at Mystia in a gruff voice.
"Fine. Dale wants a bite, so my Dale gets a bite. That's how it is. What'd'ya got, ya crow?"
Mystia bristles at being called a crow, but she shoves her instinct to throw the insult back at the man down into her throat, more interested in getting his money than in defending her dignity. She pulls out from within the cart two skewers with chunks of meat on them. She had cooked up a batch of these skewers when she had roused, before she left to find her own breakfast. Cooked nearly an hour earlier, they had been kept warm in the food cart while she waited for customers.
Oh, do I have a treat for you! This is my famous grilled lamprey, cooked like yakitori but so much better than those dry, awful chunks of chicken. You'll love it!
A curious expression creeps across the faces of both men at the moment Mystia mentions the word "lamprey," neither of them sure what to make of the unusual meal, apparently. The larger man glances at Dale, focusing on his expression. Dale cocks his head, then slowly shakes it. The larger man, clearly having seen all he wants to see, turns back to Mystia, already turning to leave as the words come out of his mouth.
"Uh. Nah. You vegan types don't make no sense to me. Soybeans, lamb-preys, 'shrooms… Don't know why people can't just eat meat that's actually meat. We're done here."
Oh! But didn't you realize? I can give you a free sample! If you don't like it, well, that's fine, you can keep it. But I guarantee you'll like it! Promise!
The larger man once again looks to Dale, and, only receiving a non-committal shrug in response, spins around on his feet. The duo returns to Mystia and extend their hands as she hands them each one skewer with just a single piece of meat on it as a sample. As the two men munch on their meat, Mystia monitors their facial expressions closely, working hard not to let her excitement creep into her own expression. The fun, after all, always started once the marks had taken the bait... After chewing for a moment, the larger man looks once more at Dale. With an unspoken communication, the duo both toss the empty skewers aside and give Mystia a nod.
"It was alright, but nothing special. We don't need none. Thanks for the snack."
You tried something new, and that's what matters! Maybe next time you'll want more. Or, if you want, you could even tell your friends about me! I'd really appreciate it! People seem to stay away from this area. Guess I should probably move, right? But there's just so much good food in this city. I can't compete with all the people out there. So the more people who would come here, the better I am. It's gotta be better for the community, too, right? I think so. More people down here spending money can only help.
Mystia keeps up her friendly airs as she thanks the duo, but she has an ulterior motive for keeping their attention with her rambling. As she speaks, she flaps her wings and rubs her claws together, as subtly as possible, the beating of her wings barely perceptible and her claw-rubbing played off as a nervous tic. The pair of men don't even take note of it, nor do they notice Mystia's widening grin as she watches clouds of darkness coalesce around the mens' faces. She suppresses a laugh when, a moment later, the taller man interrupts her ramblings with a revealingly concerned comment.
"Ey, the hell? Dale, am I going blind or did the lights go out? I can barely see my hand in front of my face."
"I-I-I can't see anything either, Frank. I-I-It's like, there's a little light, but everything but the outlines are all black!"
"The goddamn hell? It's happening to you too? What kinda drugs did you put in that meat, lady?!"
What? Everything's all black? Oh no!
Mystia feigns a gasp, even placing her hand over her chest all the while knowing the two men can't see her at all. Now that they can't see her, she lets her excitement show clearly on her face. She practically dances, reveling in her success, as she steps just out of reach of the larger man, who keeps reaching in her general direction in a pitiful attempt to grab her while only succeeding in nearly stumbling forward and hitting his hand on her cart. The pair's sudden blindness was no accident, nothing unknown to her. She had inflicted them with night blindness. Her power to inflict blindness worked best when the environment was already dark, and the dimmer Undercity was just dark enough to let her use her passive power to spectacular effect. Continuing to avoid the infuriated man, Mystia effortlessly spins a yarn to explain the blindness.
Oh no, no no no no! This isn't good at all. Didn't you hear? The hospitals have been swamped! There's some horrible, awful magical curse inflicting people all over the city. They can't figure out the pattern. They think that maybe it has something to do with people doing some weird magical rituals in the Green Hell Zone awhile back, but I don't think they really know. It just hits people at random. And if you don't treat it right away, you'll go blind permanently! I've just been so scared. Thankfully I put some special herbs of clarity in some of the lamprey, just in case I needed to treat myself quickly. Just eat a whole lamprey and it'll cure you in no time.
Knowing the pair can't see her, Mystia nevertheless sways from side to side in a gleeful pseudo-dancing as she builds up to the climax of her lies. No moment was better than this, when she was set to deliver her clinching line in one of her schemes.
I don't have many, so they're pretty valuable. I'd say… three hundred each? That's fair. If you can't do that, I'll just take everything you have on you and we'll call it even.
The men, well-versed in dealing with the scammers and dishonest merchants in Senka's black markets, don't swallow Mystia's bait quite as easily as she hoped they would. Frank - his quest to grab her despite his lack of sight long abandoned - begins to bang on Mystia's food cart in an attempt to damage it as she speaks. When she names her price, however, he explodes at her suggestion that they pay her.
"That's the biggest load of BULL I've ever heard! There's not gonna be no money, ya piece of crap pigeon. You're gonna fix this now, or I'm gonna put you on the grill and shove a stick through ya!"
Mystia frowns, not at the man's damage to her food cart - that'd be easy to repair, as shoddy as it was in the first place - but at his insistence on being difficult. She sighs, but doesn't let the men bring her down for long. Rather than responding to his threat, she simply clears her throat. Then, she begins to sing. She sings nothing in particular, just a simple melody, one with nonsensical syllables to fill in for words. To her own ears, it was nothing more than a beautiful piece, matching anything a songbird or a professional singer could produce
To the two men, though, Mystia's song couldn't have been anything further from beautiful. The two men cover their ears and, though blinded, begin to look around frantically as a horrifying cacophony of voices descends upon them. A multitude of voices - their own voices, their family's voices, the voices of singers and public speakers they had heard, voices of friends, and unfamiliar voices both angelic and demonic - whisper to the men, serenade the men, and threaten them all at once. At first, they appear to reel in pain and stagger backwards, barely able to stand as the sensory onslaught hits them. They scream and beg, speaking to the voices only they hear.
Then, as Mystia finishes her song and looks at the duo with a satisfied grin, they go silent. They cease to move. Still blind, they nevertheless look around, unsure of where they are, barely certain of who they are.
"Wh-a-a-t's going on?"
It's only Dale's voice which makes the larger man speak once again.
"I… I don't know. We were… uhhhhh…. ahhhh, we were… I don't know nothing, Dale. I can't see a thing, and my head's spinning…"
As the larger man puts his palm to his temples and Dale begins to weep, Mystia interjects, reminding both men of her presence even as they both struggle to remember who she is and why they know her.
Oh no, it's worse than I thought! Don't you remember? You need to get to the hospital right away! Oh, but first, you wanted one of my herb-infused lamprey, remember? You each had just agreed to buy one for three hundred dollars?
"Three hundred?"
The larger man's response is not one of incredulity. He definitely recalls the number three hundred, after all. It sounds so familiar, but… where had he heard it? Why did he associate it with this voice he was hearing, offering him some quick cure and telling him to go to the hospital? It sounded familiar, almost like it could be right, what she was saying, but…
Right, three hundred. Times two of you, that's six hundred. So, I'll just give you the lamprey, and then you'll eat it, and give me the money. It should help you enough to get you to a hospital. They'll cure you there.
Too confused to resist or to consider her words, the two men begin to obediently eat as she places lamprey in their hands and helps guide their hands to their mouths. As they eat, she slowly lifts the blindness, letting them see once again at her will.
See? The herbs in the lamprey help you see for just a few minutes, so you can get to the hospital. But you really need to get going. It won't last long. Oh, but first, the money!
The pair of men, obedient putty in Mystia's hands in their befuddled state, comply as she aids them in searching for the cash on their persons. Six hundred was a steep amount, yes, but the two of them had been on their way to black markets where cash reigned supreme and nothing came cheap. Helpfully directing the men in the process of picking their own pockets clean, of searching through every possible place they might've been keeping cash on them. When they had produced the six hundred dollars she was looking for, Mystia briefly considers whether or not she could extort more from the duo before ultimately deciding not to press her luck.
Placing her hands on their shoulders, Mystia physically guides the two men, turning their bodies one at a time to point them towards the roads leading away from Senka, the roads away from her.
Now, remember, you need to get to the hospital right away. My cure's only going to last for a few minutes, so it's extra important you hurry and get there as fast as you can.
Unable to refute her logic, the men indeed take off in a rush, hurrying away from the original destination as Mystia snickers and begins counting her cash, today's haul already a sizeable addition to her growing wealth - sitting at a cool grand, currently - from con after con. She can't help but tilt her head a little and put on a cutesy smile, watching the men disappear from view. They wouldn't make it to a hospital, but they wouldn't need one, either. Even had she not dropped the night blindness, its effects would've faded with enough distance between her and her targets, and the confusion would wear off with time. Soon enough, they'd come to their senses and come back to look for her, the woman who had swindled them so gracefully. Of course, that was the point of sending them off to look for a hospital. The extra time they'd have to spend on making the return trip would just give her a good cushion to get away and lay low for the day.
Pleased with herself as she can be, Mystia wanders back over to her now-damaged food cart. With a quick glance up and down the street and down the nearby alley and seemingly no one around, Mystia sets her cash down on the top of the cart as she bends down to procure herself a treat. While she preferred the Hyoi Pears, the one thing she didn't lie about was her skill in preparing grilled lamprey.
From its own perch on a nearby rooftop, another bird watches Mystia with keen eyes. It had arrived near the beginning of her exchange with the two men, shortly after she had handed them their free samples. Despite using the rooftops herself, she hadn't thought to scour them for potential thieves, an oversight which the intelligent avian creature had not failed to pick up upon. Taking her glances up and down the street as a signal she was about to let her guard down, the bird on the rooftop puffs up its feathers and shakes out its wings. Then, the moment Mystia lays her money down and bends down…
For Mystia, it happens in a flash, in a brief instant almost too short to process. Just as she raises her head, a piece of lamprey now in hand, she lets out a gasp, confronted with the sight of an unsightly vulture-like bird - one which had strange head adornments not unlike tufts of cotton - swooping by, her cash now in its talons. Turning its head back to see Mystia's expression turn to one of pure rage, the strange bird - a creature known as the Takkuri - lets out a vocalization that sounds vaguely like a mix between a mocking laugh and a vulture's grunting, happy to watch Mystia shrink over its wings as it soared further and further from the swindler-turned-victim. The Takkuri's glee quickly turns to panic, however, when its latest target does something its previous victims never had.
Thought you could get one over on me? Just you wait until I catch you.
Mystia doesn't raise her voice as she pockets her piece of lamprey and takes off into the air in pursuit of the bird that had made off with her haul. She lets no hint of anger creep into her words. Instead, she speaks calmly and slowly, her widening smile - clearly a smile to fear, the smile of a person ready to inflict pain on another creature and revel it - and the fires of rage in her eyes doing more than enough to communicate her anger without words. Her expression alone sends the Takkuri into a panic, the bird squawking and turning its head to get a better view of its route as it jets forward with as much speed as it can muster. As fast as the Takkuri flies, Mystia nevertheless manages to gain upon it, slowly closing the gap.
With the gap between itself and Mystia growing ever smaller, the Takkuri does the one thing it can think to do to try and shake its pursuer. Taking her towards Senka proper, the bird, just barely remaining out of Mystia's reach, dives underneath the arches and overhangs that keep Senka's markets in the shadows. Glancing back over its wing for but a brief moment, the bird is struck not with relief, but panic. Only slowing down slightly, Mystia matches the birds aerial acrobatics as she herself dives under the neighborhood's overhangs, continuing the chase just feet above the heads of the crowds milling about in the markets.
In Senka's Markets
In a sizeable and exclusive stall set apart from most of Senka's shaded markets by the tent covering it, a casually-dressed middle-aged man chuckles to himself as he looks over his own haul for the day. He had made good money already today, enough that he could close up shop early. He takes the last few goods he has on display in his stall and, sweeping his arm across the display to collect them all at once, sweeps them unceremoniously into a cardboard box. Some of the items were quite valuable, true, but he had little reason to care if they were damaged, so long as he could turn a profit on them. Trying to press some of the items down so he can get the box to close completely, he takes a glance at the three perches set up behind him, at the back of his personal tent. Two of the perches are occupied, with two large birds taking a rest atop them. One of the birds - an orange condor with impressively spanning black wings - was known as Klepto. The other bird was nothing more than a mere Honchkrow, albeit one larger than most members of its species. The man's eyes glide over the two birds, settling instead on the one empty perch. He taps his foot impatiently.
The ugly one should be back by now...
This man, Koi King, better known around Senka as "King Karp," was one of the biggest merchants in Senka, one of the biggest names in Olympia's black markets. He was so well-known, so respected for his skill of staying just out of the law's reach that he had even earned an exclusive stall in the neighborhood's market, one from which he could filter out visitors, choosing only to meet with his trusted associates and customers. He'd been in Olympia for years now, making mounds of cash through illicit dealings and scams. But in all his years working in the city, he had never had a windfall quite like he had in recent months. First, the collapse of The Curse had been a boon for his bottom line, freeing him from having to make the payments for "protection" that had allowed him to keep operating independently. A breeze of fortune in his sails turned into a full on gale not long afterwards, when he had been approached by a nervous, black-haired kid with a special proposition. He hadn't seen that kid since their first meeting, but, boy had his decision to join in the kid's scheme worked out well. A week after his meeting with the young buck, he followed the kid's instructions and found a stash of stolen goods tucked away with directions for the next week's dropoff point. Karp didn't know who was collecting these stolen goods, didn't know if it was the kid he had originally met with or someone else altogether, but, week after week, he had picked up a new set of pilfered valuables and a fresh set of directions. Any money he made off the goods was pure profit, so he was more than happy to keep taking part in the scheme. Of course, he did have to leave some cash behind at each dropoff, but whoever he was working with didn't seem to be keeping too close of an eye on him; the cash he was leaving behind was closer to twenty percent of his profits than the fifty percent he had originally agreed upon with the kid.
Yet the pilfered goods kept flowing. And in December, he had received a special bonus. At one of his usual weekly dropoffs, he had found a gift waiting for him in the form of three caged birds and a special set of instructions. The note promised that the birds were skilled thieves, and that they would snatch even more goods for him to sell. Of course, the note specified that he was to split the profits from any goods the birds stole with his mysterious furnisher of wares, but, since they didn't seem to mind him keeping some of their share for himself, that hadn't much concerned him. Not completely sure of how to handle the birds, he had almost considered selling them, but after a few trial runs, they had proven just as skilled as the note had indicated. While he didn't care much for them, the birds had proven useful tools, so he had even prepared them a little space in his stall, not even minding the costs of feeding them with the extra revenue they brought him as high as it was.
Of course, the note he had found with the had contained one other special offer, a proposition just for him that promised some big money, more than he could make in months even with the aid of the birds. The thought of the money his mysterious associates were offering him was so enticing as to make him salivate. He could have a truly enormous bonus, if he wanted it, but to this point, he had hesitated. Why? Because in order to receive his bonus, he would have to drop off, along with his usual payment, the pelt of some girl named Myuri Kraft. The moral dilemma of having to kill someone, especially someone who he knew nothing more about than a basic description, didn't bother him. No, the only reason he had yet to act was because going after her himself, or even taking a hit out on her through his usual connections, exposed him to too much risk. He'd stayed out of the reach of the cops for years, but there was quite a difference between cornering a black market and trying to have someone killed. The latter would invite much more scrutiny and far too many opportunities to botch something and get snagged.
With all of his things ready to go but one of his birds still missing, Karp briefly considers the possibility of leaving the bird behind. He still had two to do the job, after all, and it was always possible that the third bird had been captured, or shot, or otherwise injured. Just as he begins picking up the travel crates for his two remaining birds, however, his attention is captured by a series of squawks, screams, and shouts coming from just outside his tent.
Less than a second after Karp turns his head to look at the entrance of his tent, his third bird - the Takkuri - flies in in a frenzied state, shedding feathers and squawking with panic as it hurries to its perch with a wad of cash in hand. Karp barely has time to process this development as the entrance to his tent whips open, now splitting to reveal a strange, pink-haired woman with a large pair of wings sprouting from her back. During the brief moment the tent's flaps are open, Karp takes note of the market's unofficial "enforcers" stumbling over each other, strange black clouds obscuring their faces.
Mystia, panting and heaving, comes right up to Karp, getting right in his face and, given his short stature, naturally looking down upon him.
You… You. Is this your bird? I think you should know, I just wasted a chunk of my life chasing this ugly-ass bird and having to shove aside some big men who thought they'd get a little too handsy with me. I'm not in the mood for playing games. I'll give you one chance. Give me my money back.
Karp looks over Mystia intently, studying her expression and her tone. As cranky and tired as she sounded, he didn't doubt her story. He looks back between her and his birds. The money in the Takkuri's talon certainly seemed to corroborate her tale, too. This was an unusual situation, sure. He had
never expected someone to have the tenacity and skillset needed to chase down one of his birds, but, here this woman was… this vaguely familiar woman. As deep as his roots were in Senka, in Olympia in general, he had eyes and ears all around, associates who would report to associates who would report to associates who would report to him on all of the happenings around the city. He had heard about some bird-woman pulling con jobs in the area, and he didn't much appreciate that. Some upstart was trying to muscle in on his territory, trying to fleece the fleecers who he fleeced himself and draining their pockets before they could get to him. She apparently sang some kind of song, and next thing her targets knew, they were handing their money away willingly. She was no good, not for his business. Perhaps this feisty upstart needed a lesson from someone who had real experience in the business… Never one to let an opportunity go to waste, Karp quickly gets to work putting on a friendly, cooperative act, even sprinkling in faux-Spanish to make himself seem more endearing.
Que? Hey, mi amiga, relax! There's no need for you to get all worked up over this. What you say? Mi, mi, aaah, bird, yes? You say that my bird took your money? Ah, no, no! Mi amiga, it's all a misunderstanding, sí? It's nothing like you think. These birds? They aren't even mine. They're just goods, yeah? I'm keeping them here until I can get the right price for them. But sometimes, the birds, they fly off, do their own thing. Ay, it's such a pain! How great it'll be to rid myself of them. But until then, I have to put up with them doing things like this. But here, your dinero? We can get that back to you, right now.
Karp retrieves the cash from the bird, and, making a big display of returning it, hands it over to Mystia. For her part, she doesn't look too happy to get the cash back, but she strikes a friendlier tone than she had initially.
I'm glad you're so cooperative. But, hmm… You know, you're a merchant too, right? You know what they say about time and money, don't you? You of all people should know how true that old saying is. This took a lot of time out of my day. You wouldn't want to compensate me for my time and energy getting this back from your dumb bird, would you?
As Mystia puts on her charms and a sweet smile, Karp only shakes his head sadly.
Ah, mi amiga. I wish I could help, But we can't all be as rich as you. I'm barely scraping by here, you know? I don't have any cash to spare. But… I might have something for you. You're not just mi amiga, sí? You're a merchant, too. That makes you a sister of mine. For you? For mi hermana? I think I have a special deal. Hold on just a moment, okay?
As Karp digs into one of the cardboard boxes scattered around, Mystia leans forward, clearly intrigued by the promise of an exclusive offer. She tries to steal a peek at his wares, but sees little before he pulls out what it is he's looking for. He holds up, proudly, what appears to be a golden egg in an incubation case, as Mystia looks on, curious but wary.
See, mi hermana, this egg, it's special, the rarest of eggs in all of Olympia. This egg, you see, it contains an amazing golden fish. Now, the fish isn't real gold, but, and, listen closely, because I only tell you this, mi hermana, you can sell its scales for big money. You hear me? It's the big dinero. But that's not all. This fish, it breeds faster than a rabbit, and it gives its color to all of its kids.. You see, sister? You take this one fish, breed it with any other fish you can buy off the street, and you sit on a gold mine. You let it make two golden fish babies, then let them make four babies, then eight, then sixteen, and soon, you swim in scales. You can be in the deep end of the piscina, so long as you keep the fish to yourself. Now, this is my rarest offer, mi hermana. I would only offer it to someone as special as you. And, for you? For your trouble? I'll make it… we'll say, seven hundred?
At first, Mystia's eyes widen. As Karp goes further and further into his explanation, though, a frown creeps across her face and her eyes narrow. As he wraps up his sales pitch, she doesn't even give him the courtesy of looking directly at him. Instead, she raises one of her hands, idly rubbing her claws together as she inspects them, ensuring not only that her boredom came across clearly, but that Karp could clearly see her claws for all they were.
Do you think I was born yesterday? Do you really think I'd fall for something so stupid? Really? I don't know about you, old man, but I like to cut to the chase. And here, it's pretty clear why you're telling me a whopper. If this egg of your's could really make a person rich, you'd be running an aquarium by now. You'd be the biggest idiot out there not to take it and raise the fish yourself, so how do you expect me to buy that you'd just sell me something like that? Come on, old man. Let's slice through the bull. I'm almost done wasting my time here, but if you don't want me to leave with that bird, you'll give me a real offer, right now.
Oh, oh, mi hermana bonita es muy inteligente, too. Okay, I tell you what, mi hermana. You caught me. I pulled at your leg. I had to test you, though, you see? I can't just work with anyone who wanders in here. I have a reputation here. Sí? Sí. Okay, mi hermana. I'll offer you this, instead.
As he bends down to once again rummage through his boxes, Karp, his face hidden from Mystia's gaze for but a brief moment, contemplates a possibility. This upstart was smarter and craftier than she seemed. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could get some use out of her… After all, he couldn't go after Myuri himself, and even the most skilled of hitmen ran the risk of attracting attention from the law. After all the cops weren't dumb. They more than likely had some suspicions about Olympia's most vile criminals. But some minor conwoman? Who would miss her if, after she brought the Myuri girl to him, she had an accident and disappeared? If anyone even noticed her absence, they could easily presume she just packed up and left Olympia, probably to avoid an encounter with the law herself. In the best case, they'd fail to even look for her, just happy to have a scammer like her out of the city. Sure, it'd be hard to kill Myuri, but if he had this bird woman bring the innocent young girl to him and then killed her to rid himself of anyone else who knew about the entire ordeal...
Pulling out a green-and-black polished gemstone and showing it off to his customer, Karp looks up at Mystia with a friendly smile on his face. Without missing a beat, he launches into a series of lies.
Ah, here we are. A gemstone so pretty for mi hermana bonita. You know, mi hermana? I don't know what it is. I don't know why this gemstone is calling out to me. This gem, they say she has immense magical powers. But not just anyone can use it. No, no. Mi hermana, this gemstone can only be used by someone special, una cantante especial. They say only one with a cursed song can access the power in this gem.
Mystia, Karp notes happily, drops her claw and leans in to inspect the gemstone, clearly intrigued. For her part, she tries to disguise her interest, but has trouble not revealing her hand. This man couldn't have possibly known about her song, could he have? If he didn't know that she had a cursed song, but he was telling her about this gemstone… could he be speaking honestly?
I'm listening. I guess I could maybe take it, for the right price. I think I'm owed a discount for all my trouble today, don't you?
Ah, ah, mi hermana! Of course you do! But I have… it's unfortunate, but this gem, it's so one of a kind. I have no price on it. I can't part with it for mere cash. But, ay, ay, mi hermana. It's calling to me. It's crying out to leave with you. Ay, what a dilemma…
...but, I might have an idea. Would you be interested in exchanging this gem for a favor?
Mystia crosses her arms, almost wanting to groan. She had already wasted enough time with this man. But the gem did seem worth getting…
Depends on the favor. What do you have in mind?
Well, mi hermana… I'm having a, how to say it… a problem, a gran problema. You see, I have this debtor, and she's been too slippery for me. Ay ay, is she ever the slippery weasel. I'm just no match for her. This Myuri Kraft, she's just too much for me to handle. But you… You, mi hermana inteligente, I bet you could outdo her. With your brains, I'm sure you could get her here to me, so that I can… collect on my debts. I tell you mi hermana, I'd be grateful to you. If you could get this Myuri to me, I would gladly give you this gemstone, and five grand in cash for your trouble. Does the dinero make it sound better?
Hmm… You say all I have to do is bring some girl to you? Tell you what, the five grand does sound nice, but I think I'd need a little more than that. I think I'd need at least seven grand, for all the extra trouble…
Mi hermana, for you? For you, I could gift you seven grand. The debts this woman owes me, they are massive. I tell you, you drive a hard bargain, but mi hermana deserves it. I will give you the gemstone, seven grand, and tres more. A flat ten grand for you, if you bring this girl to me. I promise you it will be easy, so fácil. This girl, she couldn't stick out more in a crowd. She has the ears and tail of a wolf, some kind of demon to be sure, with a silver color like the bullet she should be killed with en el nombre de dios. Now, she is slippery, but, for you, mi hermana, I think I have a good lead. She's been hanging around the Kobbers. You know them? Sí. Of course you do. You've heard the name. I think she's wanting to contract them, or something. I bet, I almost guarantee, mi amiga, that if you hang with them, you'll find her.
Mystia nods attentively. She had heard the name. The Kobbers… that's a group she hadn't given much thought to. She'd heard about them here and there, but they worked far too hard for her tastes. They were too loose a group, too. She couldn't exactly work her way up their ranks. They weren't exactly city conquerors, though... But, then… They were an eclectic bunch with some high profile members among their ranks. Surely some of them had connections that she could exploit. If she could endear herself to them, kill two rats with one stone by making inroads with them while getting this Myuri girl to this old man, she could be well on her way to a life of respect and ease.
Her mind already running with dreams of a cushy life, Mystia sticks her hand out to Karp with no hesitation, ready to shake - taking care to avoid slashing him with her claws - on their new deal. Karp, a sinister chuckle running through his internal monologue, reciprocates wearing nothing more than a simple, friendly smile on his face.
Well, old man, you drive a hard bargain yourself, but I think we have a deal. I'll find your debtor girl, and I'll figure out a way to get her to you. But, if it takes more effort than I expect, and if you're really going to get that much out of this girl, we might just have to have some flexibility in that ten grand. Deal?
We have a deal, mi hermana.
And with Mystia and Karp both thinking the other was nothing more than a pawn in their own plans, the night sparrow and the black market king strike their suitably dark bargain, each concealing their excitement at the prospect of wringing the other dry and getting one over on one another.
