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| − | Vanishing is easy to do. Reestablishing yourself, especially after having basically destroyed everything you'd built in such a short period is not easy to do. Factor in restarting in Nexus... well. For most, that would be impossible.
| + | #REDIRECT DarkheartOne/IdeaDump |
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| − | The Dragon Tianyu, to put it bluntly, is not a part of that group.
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| − | This makes things tough, but doable. It just requires working out connections in one of the seediest places in Creation without being killed by its governing body, its denizens, or the occasional Immaculate tracker looking for a faerie within Nexus (with permission, of course). Nothing worth doing is easy, after all.
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| − | ... the best place to look for links to the underworld is, unsurprisingly enough, in taverns and alehouses. Nexus has more of those than most whores have interesting diseases. Tian's in one particular boozehouse, sitting across from... a man. He has hair in places most men should not have hair. And he smells.
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| − | Tian seems surprisingly unfazed by the smell, though he can understand its nuances and full texture in a way that would probably leave most mortal men vomiting.
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| − | "... so I sez to the jerk... ''ey, fucker! That's my horse, and I'll treat her however the fuck I want! B'sides, it's cold!" He starts to laugh. His breath reeks as well. Everything about him reeks of sewage, up close; he probably has rat-spirit blood in him.
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| − | Tian smiles politely, hands clasped on his lap. He is, noticeably, not touching the table. At all. His clothes and appearance are unruffled and immaculate, providing sharp contrast to the squalor around him.
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| − | "... but 'nuff about me. Oh, yah. They call me Cling. Dunno why, but it works. Anyway... hear ya lookin' for some linkage to important types." Cling clicks a few nail-talons together, grinning wide. "First off, why should I tell ya anything?"
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| − | <Tian> I have a trustworthy face.
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| − | Tian cracks a faint grin, his first actual show of emotion in what felt like an eternity.
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| − | Cling pauses at that... then starts to cackle. "Hah! You might be right, but... look. Slime, bastards and crooks come 'ere every fucking day. Everyone's trying t' prove they got somethin'. I'm just good at hearin' things. Ratblood helps. As for you..."
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| − | Tian raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"
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| − | "I'm waiting for more reasons why, bucko." Cling looks hairily unimpressed.
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| − | Tian snorts, twirling a pearl-handled dagger on the tip of his index finger before setting it down on the table. "Also, which one of the amateurs watching us is yours?"
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| − | Cling blinks... then gives Tian a somewhat interested look. "What makes you think anyone owns me? I just know what's going on... makes me important to alotta people. They're from different gangs, if'n ya wanna know."
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| − | <Tian> Mm, I didn't think any... syndicate had you under its control.
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| − | Tian smiles a little wider. "Which gangs are they from?"
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| − | Cling smirks at Tian. "Syndicate? Pffft, they fell apart after someone offed Papa Pearl. Some say it was that Dragon fella, but he vanished, too. Prolly at one with the sea or something. And they're..."
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| − | Tian only displays the slightest hint of pleasure at hearing this news.
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| − | "... Dead of Night for the bitch, Iron Crusade for the guy."
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| − | <Tian> Pleasant.
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| − | "You're telling me. The girl drags out idiots who get in scraps and get knocked out." He leans forward. "You never see 'em again."
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| − | Tian snorts lightly, leaning back. "I'm not concerned about the Crusade or the Dead. I just don't want to spend a lot of unnecessary time at the bottom of the ladder."
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| − | "Then you're smarter 'n most." Cling nods. "... and you're different. I know a few people that might be looking for a clean-looking fella, but I need to know something first."
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| − | <Tian> Mm?
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| − | Cling points to the dagger, then to Tian... then to his nose, which twitches a few times. "You?"
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| − | Tian just stares at him, eyes chilling in their intensity. "No." His gaze, of course, communicates a different story, assuring the rat-man that it was him, he could do it again, and would happily do so if even a single person heard about this.
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| − | Most men would shiver. Cling... smiles, taking the dagger and putting it away. "Eh, was worth a shot. Anyway, I figure... I could work somethin' for ya." He fumbles around in his coat, and pulls out a pouch of... jerky? "Take one. They're good." If Tian looks closely enough, he can spot a slip of paper in amongst the snacks. "Try not to die, kiddo."
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| − | Tian smiles, though the expression doesn't carry up to his eyes, reaching forward to take the jerky -- and the paper with it. He tucks the slip away somehow, the piece of paper practically disappearing as Tian takes a bite of the jerky. "Keeping your life is easy. Making sure it's remembered.. that's the hard part." And with that, he's gone, melting into the half-drunken crowd.
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| − | Cling helps himself to a piece, chuckling. "... you're gonna go far, kid."
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| − | * Back to [[/RisingForce|Rising Force]]
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