TRP: Azriel and Larkin (Cocoa)

**Jen:**

 [Setting: Day 167, Skyport]

Skyport was the same sprawling, buzzing, corrupted shithole
reeking of fish and choking in smoke Larkin had left and ,she revelled in
having it all back. She'd cursed it at least once a day before leaving for
Glimmerton but until then, she hadn't realized how much of a part of her the
city was. Kinda obvious, in hindsight.

It had her in such a good mood not even the news about the
Sanguines and the attacks on the cartell could put out. These were things that
had to be dealt with over time. For now, Larkin was back in her element and
there was one thing missing to make the day perfect.

She walked down Bosun street, past the building that housed
her hiding hole and around the corner of Lynch street towards the dead end with
the dry fountain. She'd been gone over a week. Chances were good he'd gotten
and replied to her message already. Something in her gut lurched in a very
pleasant way, and a grin spread over her face when she saw who else was looking
for mail.

Larkin pressed a hand to her mouth to not snicker and crept
up on Azriel's turned back.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel's ears pricked. Not that the city wasn't loud and
bustling, but he'd started to get better at picking out the individual sounds.
Moorland was quieter, surrounded by the swamp, and his awareness had been tuned
into it, anyway. He was becoming attuned to Skyport, however slowly.

And he was particularly attuned to the sound of someone
trying to sneak up on him.

He spun, thinking to grab for his dagger -- as if he knew
how to do much more than wave it around -- but then grinned when he saw her and
just jabbed a finger in her direction instead. "Not this fucking time, you
don't, love."

**Jen:**

 Larkin straightened up. "Aw, fuck. And I had such a
good prank in mind." She quickly crossed the few feet separating them,
slid both hands around the back of his neck, and pressed her lips to his.

**Izzy:**

 "Oh." Well, that was pleasantly startling. He let
his hands drop to her waist, steering clear, as always, of her pockets. She was
a difficult woman to touch and not get your arm twisted, but he kept trying it.

"I like this prank," he murmured. I missed you? It
was true, but -- hm. Well.

**Jen:**

 She held the kiss a bit longer, unwilling to let go. Fuck,
she'd missed him. Maybe she should say it but - that would seem desperate,
wouldn't it? Larkin pulled away and took half a step back, hands disappearing
into her pockets. The grin was still on her face, and a rush of heat, and she
hoped he wouldn't notice it.

"You were about to send me a nice message?"

**Izzy:**

 "Who said it was nice?" he demanded with mock
offense, still grinning. "You've abandoned me in this awful city."
Oh, to hell with it. "I've missed you, you know."

He'd been so delighted to see her again, the last time, and
things had gone somewhat awry then. It didn't seem as if it helped to play it
cool with her. It just made her distrust him. But she'd given him her real
name, and she hadn't shanked him in his sleep. She was undoubtedly dangerous,
but he thought he had her figured, now.

**Jen:**

 Larkin groaned. "Spend more than a day where I have and
you'll fucking love Skyport. I do, anyway." She bit the inside of her
cheek. I've missed you.. Hadn't sounded desperate when he'd said it, had it?
"I missed you, too."

**Izzy:**

 Oh, delightful. Azriel liked the way it sounded, her saying
that. Maybe he could trick her into saying it more. (No, no, trick her and
she'd likely stab him. He supposed he would just have to ... also say he missed
her, when he wanted her to say it back. Ludicrous.)

He moved to link his arm through hers, if she'd let him, and
lead her along for a walk through the wretched city. "Where have you been
then, love, that's so dreadful without me to light up your life? If you can
tell me," he added. That castle he'd tracked her down to before, he bet.
Hard to imagine anyone complaining so about living in a castle, but there it
was.

**Jen:**

 She let her arm hang limp, shying away from the linking
almost unconsciously, but feeling bad for it the moment it had happened. Would
be weird to go back now, though. She used the hand to scratch the back of her
head. "Oh, it's-" could she tell him? She definitely shouldn't but then
again, he already knew about the castle. That would be nothing new. "it's
that castle out of Skyport. Hate the place. Mostly for the people around."
She smirked. "Too many of the bad sort and not enough of the good."

**Izzy:**

 He let himself be pleased for calling it, even though it had
been a rather obvious get. He'd take that over the slight disappointment that
she hadn't taken his arm, which he smiled past as he slipped his hands into his
pockets for warmth, instead. "I rather thought you liked the bad
sort."

**Jen:**

 "There's a right kind of bad and a wrong kind. These
are mostly just fucking wrong."

**Izzy:**

 "Hmm." He'd checked a map -- the castle was a good
four-hour walk or more outside of Skyport. A carriage would be faster, of
course. And less tiring. "Perhaps I could shift the demographics for a few
days," he said idly. "See if it's as bad as you claim."

**Jen:**

 "Oh. Fuck no." Larkin started laughing before
realizing how that must've sounded. She cleared her throat and in a more
serious tone, said, "no, that's a bad idea. I'm not there for fun.
Sorry."

As much as having Azriel around would make the stay in
Glimmerton much more bearable, it'd also potentially derail her whole purpose
there. And if he came to the castle, she'd have to explain who the fuck he was.
To some people at least. Goro would never let her live it down.

**Izzy:**

 "Ah." This was fair. He found that he was still
sad about it. (Absurd.) He'd left his elbows loose at his sides, on the
off-chance she changed her mind about getting closer, but he tucked them in,
now. "Very well. I expect I can keep myself entertained in Skyport."

**Jen:**

 "Well, I'm here for a day or two. I can entertain you
some." She grinned, showing him her canines.

**Izzy:**

 "I suppose I could tolerate you for a few days."
It was hard to not grin back. He tried for a moment, then gave up and looked
away, still grinning.

**Jen:**

 "Hm. So. What am I gonna do to you then?" She
moved a step in front of him, then stopping so he had to either turn around her
or bump into her shoulder.

**Izzy:**

 He just stopped short instead, leaning away instinctively.
"Don't you think you've done quite enough to me?" he asked, amused, then
leaned in to click his horn against hers playfully. "Maybe I should take
you out somewhere nice. Inflict culture upon you."

**Jen:**

 Culture? That sounded like some pretentious bullshit people
with too much money to spare did to kill their time and impress other people
who also had too much money and nowhere to put it. "Like what?" she
asked. "I thought about something more private, y' know."

**Izzy:**

 He tsked disapprovingly. "Skyport thieves. One-track
minds." It made him remember something, though. "I don't suppose
you're skilled in, ah, ropework?"

**Jen:**

 Larkin raised both eyebrows. "Ropes? Now who's got a
one-track mind, huh? Y'know, I don't think I'd be into that."

**Izzy:**

 He could say, Oh, no, you misunderstand; you see, someone
else might tie me up and threaten me and I would very much like to avoid death
should that occur, but it seemed more fun to affect surprise and say, "No?
Which way around? I'm versatile, you know."

**Jen:**

 Mask. What a thought. Larkin tried the image of it for a
moment, him at her mercy or her... no. No, that didn't sit right with her at
all. She shook her head. "Neither. Where's the fun in that?"

**Izzy:**

 Hm. He actually was a bit surprised, at that. He supposed
she'd rather just hold a knife to one of his major arteries to keep him on the
straight and narrow, which, ah, well, hm. He cleared his throat. "Well. I
suppose I don't really see the appeal myself, to be honest, but I'm ..."

He pulled a hand out of his pocket to gesture vaguely.
"Do you know, back in Moorland, I was terribly good at using the wiles
which appear to have no effect on you, love, in order to get what I wanted. I'm
trying to court someone powerful, but I'm slightly worried he may truss me up
as a fun ruse and then kill me, that's all." He shrugged lightly. "I
had thought you might help me practice. Escaping, you know."

**Jen:**

 Larkin stopped again, considering. Who, she wanted to ask,
but he probably wouldn't tell. Neither would she. Larkin didn't want a repeat
of the last time they'd met and prying into his business too much seemed like
the way to go there again. If he did tell her, though, she might hive a hint
how to handle that guy... but then she'd also have to give away the fact that
she knew some powerful folks. As far as Azriel was concerned, she was still a
street-level thief. But at least this she could do.

Larkin nodded. "Yeah, sure. Wouldn't wanna lose you to
some rich fuck. I can... tie a knot or two."(edited)

**Izzy:**

 "Well, as long at you don't enjoy it too much," he
said primly, concealing his actual, pleased reaction to her comment about
losing him.

**Jen:**

 "Well, what're you gonna do about it anyway? I'm gonna
have you tied up." Larkin grinned again and her face started hurting from
doing it so much. God, how she'd missed this. The bullshit, the flirting, and
him in general. Good fucking day.

**Izzy:**

 "Hm. I guess I will ... cry and hope that you have
mercy on me?" He started laughing halfway through trying to say it. An
actual laugh, the sort he couldn't hold in and that turned into very undignified
snorting.

**Jen:**

 She fell in with his laughter, unable and unwilling to
resist. "Yeah, alright. I can see you're fucking terrified of it."

**Izzy:**

 "Well. Look. Listen." He tried to regain his
composure and only partially succeeded. "I --." He gave up on the
composure. "I fucking made myself uncomfortably vulnerable to you, last
time we were together, and you didn't take advantage of it. So I suppose I'm
stuck trusting you now, or some shit. Repulsive feeling, honestly."

He gave linking their arms together another shot.

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, you know... it's fucking stupid but I don't..
not trust you either." Fuck, though, why did that make her feel all
pillowy. She had her eyes on his face, smiling with narrowed eyes, and didn't
draw away from him this time. Linking arms was stupid, but touching Azriel was
irresistable.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel tried to hide how much that pleased him, as well, but
it was difficult to hold back all of it. Hopefully he looked at least somewhat
less than positively delighted. More in the realm of smug, if he was lucky.

"Terrible decision on your part, I must tell you,"
he said airily. "I'm very dangerous. Learned some new songs since I came
to Skyport, and they're frankly atrocious. I may deafen you."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah?" Larkin slipped her arm free again to tap
the case of Azriel's violin hanging on his side. "Maybe I should take that
from you then. Level the playing field a bit."

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, and can I have your knives, then, love?" he
asked, mildly incredulous. "Not that I'd know what to do with them, any
more than you can play the viol. Or the flute. Or the lyre. Or cast spells. Hm,
I have a lot of talents you don't possess, don't I?" He jabbed her lightly
with his elbow, grinning.

**Jen:**

 Larkin hummed, as if thinking it over. Then her hand snaked
out again, not to tap the viol case this time, but to grab his wrist and twist
his arm onto his back. With the other, she held his free arm in place so he
couldn't twist out of the way of the pain, and pulled herself so close to him
her lips were against his jawbone as she spoke.

"You sure do.
But I know how to help myself. I just have to make sure your hands are where I
want them."(edited)

**Izzy:**

 He winced. He really should have been able to see things
like this coming from her, by this point. But even if he could see it coming,
he doubted he'd be able to stop. Nor was he sure he wanted to.

"You only have to tell me these things, you know. I'm a
very quick learner," he promised, showing her his teeth. "The
violence is unnecessary, if appreciated."

January 17, 2019

**Jen:**

 "Oh, I know," she said. "But I like the look
on your face when I do it. Seems like you really fucking enjoy it."

She let go of his arm and wrist but remained standing
pressed against him, chin tilted up with a smile like a cat with a fresh kill.

**Izzy:**

 Hmm. There were a few ways this would pan out, he thought,
but he was fairly certain he liked all of the possible outcome. He decided to
try his way, first.

Azriel stepped back away from her swiftly and put on his
most dignified, slightly affronted tone. "My love, I believe you have the
wrong impression of me. I'm not some street-level ruffian, you know. I'm not a
piece of meat." He contained a snicker and delicately laid a hand on his
chest. "I am a proper gentleman, and I must be courted. I require at least
one date that doesn't end in me bleeding before you get any more out of
me." He grinned at her. "You know I can make it worth your
while."

**Jen:**

 She fought down the urge to move after him as he stepped
away and crossed her arms instead, corners of her mouth tugging up.
"Proper gentleman, huh? Well, too fucking bad I'm not a proper lady. What
about the Azriel that insults me to my face and tries to set me on fire? How do
I," she wagged two finger in the air, "court him?"

**Izzy:**

 "Did I insult you?" he questioned, squinting away
thoughtfully, then remembered. "Oh, well, I suppose I did call you a feral
animal, but listen, you met my friend Ba'ob. I meant it as a compliment."
He waved one hand airily. "And I didn't attempt to set you on fire, I
succeeded." Then he stepped back in, popping up on his toes a little to
lord the bit of height had over her, grinning, and touching a finger to her
nose briefly. "Don't you forget it."

**Jen:**

 Larkin swatted at his hand lazily and contained a giggle.
God. Like a little girl.

"Yeah, I guess I can give you that one little victory.
How you set me on fire, then collapsed in the snow. Very intimidating
that."

Larkin smirked then started walking again, making him either
follow or stay behind.

"So, another date, huh? You sure I won't ruin it
again?"

**Izzy:**

 Oh, oh. "Another date?" he needled, trotting after
her. "Then our previous engagement was a date to you? You know, if your
dates tend to go that way, I can give you some advice, darling. Ah." He
counted on one finger, looking thoughtful. "Step one, I would say, is
probably leave the knife play in the bedroom. Oh, unless you're an
exhibitionist, I suppose, which considering how our very first encounter went,
wouldn't surprise me terribly. Hm, step two, let me think."

He wondered how long she would let him talk, if he just kept
going.

**Jen:**

 She elbowed him in the side, not gently. "Ah, shut the
fuck up. Step one of wooing me, don't criticise what you're clearly into, you
lil' hipocrit. Step two, stop fucking calling me darling."

**Izzy:**

 He snorted. "Yes, dear."

**Jen:**

 "So," she moved closer again, brushing against his
side and linking her arms through his. "What kinda date does a proper
gentleman like you have in mind?"

**Izzy:**

 So dear was all right. She seemed to enjoy love, as well.
Mental note. (He would only call her darling when he wanted to annoy her,
then.)

He gave a smug smile, even though he knew he hadn't
necessarily won this round. She had slipped her arm through his, though. He
wasn't even sure he needed a date, now. Not that there was any chance of him
backing down over it.

"Hm, well, you know, normally my suitors would take me
to some fine dining establishment or another in Moorland, but I don't really
know if there's anywhere up to my standards in Skyport," he commented,
then gave her an amused look. "Not that you're dressed for the part,
anyway."

**Jen:**

 She made a face. "The way I'm dressed, I get into the
fun place. And back out alive and with all my stuff still there. Also, those
pants are new."

**Izzy:**

 He squinted at them. "Goodness, are they? Tragic."

**Jen:**

 She shoved her elbow into his side again, playfully and
without breaking their link.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel grinned, shying away from the elbow and then tugging
her back in. "Well, at any rate, if I'm going to take you somewhere nice,
you'll need something a bit less, hm." He gestured to all of her with his
free hand, then tilted his head consideringly. "Do you know, you may
actually fit in my clothes."

**Jen:**

 "Fuck, and I thought you were going to make me wear a
fucking dress." She perked up and tilted her head up at him, leaning it on
his shoulder and giving him a wide eyed look. "Aw, don't tell me I gotta
stop swearing, too."

**Izzy:**

 "I'm afraid it's not very ladylike, nor is it very
gentlemanly," he said gravely.

**Jen:**

 She made a low growl in her throat. "And I thought you
wanted to take me out, and not just some fancy little dress-up doll."

Somehow, even though the image of her all pruned and
prettied and talking like those fucking noble girls with sponge cake for brains
raised her hair on end, the thought of doing it together with Azriel made it
actually sound enjoyable. They could make a show of it. Scam some rich fucks.
Now that would be a date to Larkin's tastes.

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, darling -- I mean, love," he corrected.
"Even with all of my many, highly-trained skills, I could not take a fancy
little dress-up doll out for a night of robbing the rich absolutely blind. That
would just be silly. One needs an accomplice for such things."

**Jen:**

 Oh. Oh. Like he'd read her mind. Okay, fuck, this sounded
like too much fun to decline. Larkin would even wear a fucking dress for it.
She chuckled and rand her hand up and down his arm linked through hers.
"Accomplice, huh? Yeah, alright. You got yourself one."

**Izzy:**

 He was very pleased with himself. "Yes, I thought as
much. Nothing like a good robbery, is there?" He made a thoughtful sound.
"Though I do have some concerns that if we go back to my house and I let
you riffle through my closet, you may end up wanting the clothes off my back,
and then we'd end the night no richer. Perhaps I should take you
shopping."

**Jen:**

 "Shopping or shopping?" What a question. She
already knew the answer.

**Izzy:**

 "Larkin, my love, I came to Skyport with the clothes on
my back. I have considerably more clothes now. Do take a guess." He
winked.

**Jen:**

 "I guess you know the best hunting grounds then. Go on.
Educate me." Oh, he'd love that, wouldn't he? Taking her out to do what he
was good at, the talking stuff and bullshitting people. That was fair. She'd
dragged him around her territory enough times and it'd be fucking interesting
to watch him doing his thing. Mask. She side eyed him, fighting the urge to
pull him in for a kiss again.

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, well, dear, let me think." He grinned to
himself and looked up, tapping his chin. "While I do think you would look
ravishing in a gown, I suspect you would also positively hate it, and then
possibly me by extension, so we'll skip the ladies' boutiques and go straight
for my usual targets. It'll be child's play, though -- I'm very charming and
distracting, you're terribly sly and sneaky. We can always start with some
jewelry first," he suggested teasingly, "if you need a warm up."

**Jen:**

 "I'd look fucking ridiculous in a gown," she said.
"But some nice jewelry I could go for. I know a girl who always wears
these stupid bangles on her tail and horn. What d'you think?" She shook
her head in a dramatic fashion, trying to imitate the hair swipe of more
elegant women but only got a mouth full of hair. She plucked the strands out.
Should probably cut it some time soon.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel snickered. "God, tell me, how can a professional
thief be so graceless?" He brushed her hair into a more reasonable place
absently. He could work with it. "You know, I've seen bangles like that.
Quite like them, actually." She'd probably think the gold caps he'd gotten
to hide his broken horn were stupid too, but it was just for disguise.

**Jen:**

 "I got a lot of fucking grace where it matters,"
she grumbled. Maybe she should chase him up a building again, remind him of it.
She slowed them down a bit, looking around the neighborhood they'd amilessly
wandered into. "So, where do we start?"

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, not fucking here, I'll tell you that right
now," he said dismissively, and tugged her in the direction of the nicer
part of the city. "I know this place. You'll love it. Absolutely rubbish
security, the type of jewelry that turns your skin odd colors when you wear it
too long -- but perfect for one night of high class criminal activity. They
have bangles, I believe." He may or may not have gone shopping for such
things after his encounter with Sugar. "I'll cause a fuss with the
salesperson, you make off with everything your little heart desires and hands
can carry, and we'll divvy it up after. Good?"

**Jen:**

 "Sure. Like a simple plan." The oldest and easiest
of schemes. One of the first things you learned running with a street gang -
two were always better and a good distraction was worth as much as a set of
fast fingers. She studied Azriel's face for a moment, trying to decide what
he'd like. Maybe she should ask? Or maybe he'd prefer a surprise. Hm. Silver
might be good, and something with some yellow or orange stone to match his
eyes.(edited)

**Izzy:**

 "I love a complex one, but sometimes there's really no
reason to overcomplicate things. It's just up here." He nodded at the
storefront -- all glass, bright lights to make things sparkle more than they
ever would again once you'd bought them. Theoretically it kept the thieves at
bay, as well, made them feel unprotected and watched, but that was nonsense.
This late, there would only be one person on the floor.

He pushed his hair back and straightened his coat, and gave
her a quick appraisal and a raised eyebrow. "Do you know, I begin to
wonder if we should trade places. You may look the part of a thief a bit too
much. I, on the other hand --." He stepped back and gestured to himself
grandiosely. "Innocent, timid, refined bard. Do you think you could do the
distraction?"

January 18, 2019

**Jen:**

 "Sure thing," she said. "Go ahead, and pick
something nice for me."

She slunk back around the corner while Azriel walked in, to
wait out of view of the shop. Wouldn't do to let the vendor know they belonged
together. She gave him enough time to have browsed a bit and gotten a read on the
situation inside while she took off all visible jewelry she wore and hid her
weapons beneath her coat, leaving it buttoned up wrong and hanging untidy.
Before going in, she scooped up a handful of dirty snow, rubbing it into her
face and dishevelling her hair.

She entered and immediately, the vendor's look turned sour
when he laid eyes on her. He bowed an apology to the well dressed young
tiefling man eyeing some gold rings, and approache Larkin with an air of
perfect disdain.

"Can I help you... miss?" He asked, stopping her
halfway into the shop and not sounding helpful at all. Larkin took a moment to
answer, glancing around the room and out the windows, shoulders hunched.

"I'd like to get something valuated," she said.

The man drew his lips in so tight, his mouth all but
vanished. "Miss, this is a high quality jeweler, not a pawn shop."

Larkin held his gaze, having to look up at the taller man.
He didn't relent. "There is a quite charming little tinker's shop down the
street, which might be more suitable."

She looked down and rustled her hands in her pockets.
"Can't you at least take a look? It's not junk, it's an heirloom.
Please."

That got her a squint but his mouth reappeared again and he
sighed. "Follow me, then. Let's have a look at this... heirloom."

He turned and walked her back to the counter. Larkin trailed
behind and in passing, caught Azriel's eye and winked.

**Izzy:**

 Absolutely delightful. Larkin's methods when it came to
people where the opposite of his -- make a scene, spill a drink, be a ratty
woman shambling into a nice jeweler's and demanding service. Effective,
clearly, but the kind of thing that would never even occur to him. He supposed
he remembered the street thief children he'd had as friends doing similar cons.
Stood to reason.

He'd scouted the show room out already and moved quickly --
ferreting away little golden rings, wandering around idly, finding brassy
bangles that he thought would fit Larkin's horns (they had bells, too, which
amused him). He glanced up to check how her end if the con was going, to gauge
how much time he had left. There was still a very nice necklace he had his eye
on, but it would need a solid distraction to swipe off of the faceless
mannequin displaying it.

**Jen:**

 The vendor returned behind the counter and set a ridiculous
little pair of chained glasses on his nose, then held out a hand expectantly.

Larkin dug beneath her scarf, taking a second longer than
strictly necessary, and brought out the necklace with the fireball beads. She
wrung it in her hand, reluctant to give it up, then thrust it over the counter.
She gasped as it slipped out of her fingers and clattered to the floor. The
vendor shot her a venomous glance before bowing down to pick it up.

Larkin used the moment to sneak a peek at Azriel. He had his
fingers on a necklace, turning the stone to let it glint in the lamp light.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel grinned when their eyes met, and he deftly unfastened
the necklace and slipped it into his coat, idly plucking a couple pairs of
earrings out of their cases as he approached the counter just as the
salesperson straightened.

"Excuse me, I've made a decision." He cast Larkin
a distasteful look, and held out the second-cheapest thing in the store -- a
copper bracelet, not even hiding the fact that it was cheaply made under a thin
skin of silver.

The clerk quickly, gratefully rung him up, and after he
paid, he held the bracelet out to Larkin with two fingers, as he be didn't want
to be too near her, and certainly not touch her.

"Here," he said coldly. "Find a pawn shop.
Keep your stench out of the respectable jeweler's."

He turned sharply on his heel, chin high, and strode out the
door -- turning the nearest corner to wait for her.

**Jen:**

 She accepted the bracelet silently, turning her head to look
after her benefactor (and getting caught up admiring his backside for a
moment).

The vendor coughed and muttered something to low for Larkin
to understand. He adjusted his glasses to inspect the bracelet, but Larkin
reached over and snatched it out of his hand. "Changed my mind."

Outside, she hurried the direction she'd seen Azriel turn
into and bounced around the corner.

**Izzy:**

 Around the corner, Azriel spun a jangling belled bangle
around his finger, grinning. His arm went around her waist as soon as she was
near enough, and he popped the bangle onto her horn -- as he distracted her
with a kiss.

**Jen:**

 She leaned into him, hands on his back, then coaxed him to
move and leave the crime scene.

"We happy?" she asked while fingering the bangle
he'd slipped onto her horn. It tingled with every movement.

**Izzy:**

 "Fucking delighted." He kept moving away, ears
pricked for the angry realization that the shop had been robbed and any loud,
fast footsteps that might pursue them. Quiet, so far.

He took Larkin's hand in his and slipped golden bands onto
her fingers, saving back enough to match the pattern on his own hands. He
passed her the matching bangle, then then held up the sparkling necklace, to
see if she would let him fasten it around her neck.

**Jen:**

 "Aw, Azriel." She stopped to let him finish using
her as a mannequin and tingled the bangle at him. "You so afraid of losing
me that you gotta put bells on me?"

**Izzy:**

 "They're very fashionable right now, I'll have you
know," he said properly, then grinned. "Plus, I want to see how well
you can steal things while wearing a personal alarm system."

**Jen:**

 "You know, being sneaky is kinda my whole thing."
Still, Larkin shook her head to make the bell tingle - and then again, because
the added weight to her horns was fun and she did like the sound of it.

"But that was a piece of fucking pie. I'm in for
something more challenging." She gave the bells another shake, then
started straightening her clothes and hair out and wiped the smudges off her
face with a sleeve.

**Izzy:**

 "Excellent." He gave her a once over. "I'll
take you to a tailor, get you fitted. You have my measurements, though, more or
less -- with some exceptions I'll just have to eyeball," he put in,
resting a hand on her hip. "You distract by being your charming self, I'll
grab the goods, then once you have something a touch more fitting we can move
up the ladder."

**Jen:**

 "How about we trade places this time? I got no idea
'bout how to get fitted. You though," she grabbed his collar with both
hands and tugged on it lightly. "You're the charming one." She also
had no idea what would be fashionable but if she just went by what Azriel
usually wore, it'd be alright. Couldn't be that hard to find a good shirt and
waistcoat.

**Izzy:**

 He narrowed his eyes. He liked to run his schemes in very
specific ways, but Larkin knew what she was doing, as well. "Hmm. You've
deftly avoided my secret ulterior motive, which was to torment you by having a
tailor jab needles into you. But very well, then." He gave an aggrieved
sigh. "I suppose I can deploy my charms."

**Jen:**

 "If you wanna have me jabbed, you can do that yourself.
Later." She stuck her tongue out.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel gave a dramatic, affronted gasp. "Didn't I tell
you I wasn't a piece of meat? So crass."

**Jen:**

 "Huh. Weird." Larkin poked his cheek. "The
roast joint is talking."

**Izzy:**

 Another gasp, even more dramatic this time, half-hiding a
grin. "You animal. Is this why you keep pulling knives on me? I
never."

**Jen:**

 "Well, you said it yourself." She turned to step
around him, trailing a hand across his chest. "I'm a feral animal. We're
fucking savages."

**Izzy:**

 "Savages with one-track minds," he reminded her,
flicking one of the bells on her horns, letting her step into his blind spot.

**Jen:**

 "So you don't wanna do it again?" She kept moving
away but turned around to walk backwards for a few paces. She put a had to her
chest. "That stings. And here I thought you liked it."

**Izzy:**

 He grinned. Look at her, picking up his dramatics.
"Well. I never said I didn't like it. Life-changing, really," he
said, slipping back closer to her, putting an arm around her shoulders,
gesturing off into the distance as if he were framing something, and whispering,
"But imagine it, love -- end of the night, positively dripping in
purloined wealth, buying a suite at a luxurious hotel -- the type with room
service -- absolutely anything we want or desire." And more softly,
against her ear, he repeated, "Anything."

**Jen:**

 "Hmm," she purred. "Now I'm curious. What
exactly 's on your... not so one-track-mind?"

**Izzy:**

 "Theft," he said, "and laying you down on
silk sheets swimming with gold."

**Jen:**

 "Mask." She laughed and distangled herself from
him. "How can you make stealing and fucking sound so damn sappy?"

**Izzy:**

 "Sappy?" he feigned offense. "I beg your
pardon. I am a romantic."

**Jen:**

 "Uh-huh. Come on then, and romance me while we walk. We
still got some of that shopping to do."

**Izzy:**

 "Romance you while we -- listen, love, I'm not that
athletic." He linked his arm through hers and moved along, shaking his
head.

**Jen:**

 She let him lead her trough a few more side streets until
they emerged on a wider avenue and headed towards a shop with polished brass
letters curving above its entrance door. The window was decorated with delicate
flowers and mannequins wearing embroidered vests and bright white silk shirts.
Exactly the kind of place Larkin imagined Azriel would go shopping in.

This time it was her turn to enter first. She straightened
out her coat again, wanting to make a better impression this time, and also
stuck her ear cuffs back in place. Together with the new jewelry, she should be
able to go browse a bit without raising too much suspicion.

Entering she still drew a less than friendly look, but after
Larkin exressed her intention to look for fabrics for a whole new set of clothing,
the clerk grew a lot more serviceable.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel waited for a couple of beats, making sure he was in
proper shape, adjusting his cuffs, then dropped his shoulders, raised his chin,
and walked in as if he expected someone to have opened the door for him.

"Excuse me," he said loudly, the moment he was
inside, looking insulted. "I require service."

The tailor glanced awkwardly at Larkin, made an err sound,
and moved away to come see to Azriel. "How may I help you?" she
asked.

"Well. For starters, you can get that ... ragamuffin
out of my presence," he said, giving Larkin a side-eye.

"She's ... a paying customer, sir."

He made a disgusted sound. "Then I demand to be served
in a different room."

"We only have the one room, sir. I'm sorry."

"Well." He huffed and sputtered and looked around
the shop. "Then you will attend to me in the fitting rooms," he
declared, beelining for them, sending Larkin a wink when the clerk couldn't
see.

The two of them disappeared behind a privacy screen, and
Azriel continued badgering the poor woman about how he needed this section
taken in, no no, not that section, this one here, had she no eyes -- and so on.
Really, he was extraordinary at talking about nothing at great volumes and for
amazing lengths of time.

January 19, 2019

**Jen:**

 It was a good thing they swapped places. Azriel could make
people do what he wanted in a way Larkin could never hope to achieve. But she
had her own methods, and they worked just as well.

After a minute of getting an overview of the stock, she
chose some of the laid out fabric samples in a garish red-and-yellow brocade
and a striped cobalt blue silk.

"Miss? Excuse me? Hello?" Larkin held up the
fabrics. "I want to try on this."

The clerk leaned out from behind the screen, her expression
changing to something like desperation, and started towards her, but was called
back promptly by Azriel demanding immediate attention.

"I'm sorry, please- there's a mirror." The clerk
poked her head out from behind the screen again to point at it. "We have
ready made garments in this style, please suit yourself. I'll be with you
shortly."

Not as far as Azriel was concerned, no doubt.

Larkin contained a snicker, then took off her coat and the
wool sweater beneath, and helped herself to the waistcoat in the grey and dark
blue brocade that had actually caught her eye. She pulled out a piece or two in
the ugly colors she'd shown the clerk and tossed them onto the padded bench in
the middle of the room.

The waistcoat was a bit loose but it had an adjusting strap
in the back and a second row of buttons to make it fit well enough (for her
standards anyway). She went to browse idly around the shelves, pulling out
shirts at random and tossing them onto the growing heap on the bench. Behind
the privacy screen, Azriel continued harassing the poor woman. When Larkin
called out to have the clerk fit her into some pants, Azriel gave an absolutely
artful shriek at having his delicate skin stabbed by a needle.

Larkin shook her head, grinning to herself, then changed into
the pants and pulled her own, much looser fitting pair over them. She folded up
two linen shirts, one in white with fancy frilled cuffs and collar, and one in
a red she thought especially pretty but wasn't sure Azriel would deem
fashionable enough. Both went under the waistcoat, singed in place by the strap
on the back. It gave her a bit of padding that vanished from view once she pulled
her sweater and cloak back on.

It was time to leave.

"There's nothing here I like," she announced from
the door. "And the service is lousy." Larkin opened the door into the
faces of a young couple just trying to enter. She gave them both a wink, then
went to wait around the nearest corner just as Azriel had before.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel put on an elaborate show, carrying on for some time
after Larkin had loudly announced her departure -- couldn't make it too
obvious, of course. He let his feigned frustration build to a natural breaking
point, at which point he commanded the poor dear tailor to get her hands off of
him and stop sticking needles into him before he rebuked her. She took a couple
of steps back, and he plucked apart all of her work -- it had been a Sisyphean
task from the start, as his clothes were, of course, all perfectly tailored
already -- and brushed past her, storming out, hissing under his breath.

He kept his stride haughty and dignified until he was 'round
the corner, then shifted to a more natural, excited stance, grinning when he
saw Larkin waiting, pulling her further away by a hand. Mask, this was fucking
fun. "How did you do, love?"

**Jen:**

 For an answer, Larkin unbuttoned her cloak and pulled her
sweater up, revealing the waistcoat underneath.

**Izzy:**

 "Wonderful." He ran a hand over it, along her
side, making the excuse of, "Could fit a touch better, but that's
off-the-rack for you." He grinned. "After the silk sheets and the
gold and all that, I'll take it in for you, if you like it."

**Jen:**

 "Hm, not my usual style. But I might keep it, if you
like it." She winked, then reached under the waistcoat to pull the two
shirts out. "White frill or plain red? Wasn't sure so I thought I'd get a
bit of a selection."

**Izzy:**

 "Very wise." If he liked it? Really? Well, wasn't
that a thing to say. He wondered what would please her for him to wear, then,
apart from nothing. He cleared his throat to brush the thought aside and
studied the two. "Mm, the frills are a bit much. Go with the red. Lovely
color, anyway."

**Jen:**

 "Oh good. I hate the frills but I also know shit about
fashion." She stuffed the shirts into an inner pocket of her coat.
"So, what now? Please don't tell me I need a fucking hair cut." She
did, admittedly, but had no real idea how to steal something like that.

**Izzy:**

 "Well." He stepped in again to flick a strand off
her forehead. "You could certainly do with a wash. I used to cut my baby
sister's hair, you know, because she wouldn't sit still for the beautician. We
could go to a bathhouse, and then I could give you a bit of a trim." He
tapped her nose again, grinning. "No funny business in the bathhouse, though.
Strictly serious business."

Then he considered her holding his head underwater, between
her legs, and ah. Well. Shit. He was glad his face was already flushed from the
chill out here.

**Jen:**

 He kept denying her but everytime he did, there was that
glint in his eyes. Maybe Larkin had lost some of his edge on him, because he
was so damn cute and all. Time to remedy that. She swatted at his hand, then
caught his wrist and held it up. "Oh, sure. I can be very fucking
serious." She stepped in close, body pressed against his, and pushed to
make him move backwards towards the wall.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel bit his lip, considering. Mask. Right here, in the
alleyway -- well, when he'd gotten that seal for her, he'd thought about that,
too. He remembered blurting out something like should we find an inn, or a
rooftop? but he would have been perfectly fine having her body against his in a
grimy alley.

Skyport had done something to him. Or maybe she had.
Possibly he was fine with it, but --

"Ah." He almost called her 'darling' again. He
would have to work on removing that one from his vocabulary. "Love. Let me
take you somewhere nice and pamper you and wash every inch of your skin."
He rested his hands on her waist and leaned in to her ear. "I'll use my
tongue."

**Jen:**

 Oh, Mask, now there was a promise. Not that she'd require
that but if he liked to play the waiting game... she could humor him a bit.
Until he thought he'd won.

Larkin tilted her head back, eyes closed. "Hmm.
Alright. Yeah." She stepped away from him, giving him a light shove as she
went. "Let's go then."

**Izzy:**

 Excellent. He didn't try very hard at all to contain his
smugness this time, and hooked his arm around hers again to lead her along.
"There's a nice bathhouse not far. I'll pay off the attendant to get a
private room," he promised. "Hmm. Perhaps a nice relaxing bath
between rounds. Perhaps a couple baths."

**Jen:**

 "A private room? Afraid of getting caught?"

**Izzy:**

 He gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Quite the
reverse, dear. I love to put on a show. My only concern is for your
comfort."

**Jen:**

 There were a few things that would make Larkin
uncomfortable, she knew, but getting caught in the act certainly wasn't one of
them. Somehow, she'd even assumed her boundaries were more generous than his
but maybe... maybe that was also just show.

"Aw, don't be. I'm comfortable with a lot of things. No
delicate gentleperson like you."

**Izzy:**

 He grinned. The stories this delicate gentleperson could
tell her. Well, maybe he would, later on. Silk sheets and all. They'd have to
take a breather at some point.

She'd said she was in Skyport for a couple of days, hadn't
she? Perhaps she'd actually spend the night with him. That would be ...
pleasant, actually.

"Well, in that case, why don't we invite the other
patrons to join us?" he suggested airily. Testing. "I promise to
still only have eyes for you."

**Jen:**

 "Hm, interesting. But you should watch what you're
doing, I don't want you to poke an eye out."

**Izzy:**

 "Callous, really," he deadpanned, indicating his
blind eye.

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, I'm just concerned for what's left." She
gave him a side glance to see how he took it but he didn't seem all too
serious. He did have some interesting ideas, though. Mask. Not a thing she'd
usually consider doing but... her face grew hot. She played with the rings on
her fingers. Good fucking day.

**Izzy:**

 "Your concern is noted, love, but I assure you, I know
what I'm about," he teased.

**Jen:**

 "That something you do regularly then?"

**Izzy:**

 "Oh," he said wistfully, and leaned against her
shoulder. "Once upon a time."

**Jen:**

 "Oh? Dirty secrets?" She leaned into him and
tilted her face up, brushing her nose against his neck. "You gotta tell
me."

**Izzy:**

 "Maybe I will, once you're too exhausted to commit them
to memory and use them against me."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen but god,
please try."

**Izzy:**

 He grinned. "I love a challenge, dear."

**Jen:**

 In the baths, Azriel did keep his promise of cutting her
hair. Larkin suspected it took as long as it did so he could keep teasing her,
both of them sitting naked in the washing room but still having to keep up
enough air and decency between them to not get kicked out.

Eventually, Larkin had enough and she dragged him on to the
hot water pools, choosing one of the scented ones with slightly opaque water.
Perfect for returning the favour to him, which she did with much delight. If
the other patrons noticed them nestled in the corner together, Larkin pressed
close to Azriel and him with his eyes closed, no one said anything. Still, they
did decide to go take a private room later. It was worth every extra coin.

The winter air was like getting slapped with a brick when
they emerged from the bath house, but heated as she was from the water and from
Azriel's company, Larkin barely minded it. She jangled the bells on her horns,
feeling fancy as fuck in her new dress up and jewelry. She couldn't wait to go
scam some rich fucks with it.

January 20, 2019

**Izzy:**

 Azriel took her somewhere no one would know him -- he was
far too distinctive to go hunting anywhere near the places he was scouting out
to try to ingratiate himself into Skyport's upper crust. But the city's wealthy
just couldn't help themselves from throwing that wealth around, so finding a
lavish party to crash was no difficult task.

He got his golden horn caps out of his viol case so that he
would be slightly less distinctive, expecting snarky commentary from Larkin
regarding his vanity, or some such. These were simple, without the chain
webbing between them -- classy, he thought, and matching his new rings, and
more importantly, concealing his broken horn. He played a quick song to erase
the scar from his face -- and another to make his and Larkin's hands a little
lighter, which he passed to her with a kiss.

Remarkable, that, the spell crashing between their lips,
rebounding, electric. Azriel had only ever worked with his siblings, or alone
in the safety net of his parents' city -- not with a partner, not like this.

As was often the case, the rich were also tasteless. This
was a themed party, and the theme was patterned after the plague that had hit
Skyport some time back. Guests were being handed out rings that blacked-out
their eyes as party favors -- Azriel and Larkin were able to slip in by using
thaumaturgical magic to make their eyes black on their own, then swiping rings
to solidify that they belonged there.

It seemed there were rumors that the plague had been caused
by something called the Glutton, which was a good enough excuse for the theme
to also be excess; there were buffet tables set up with assortments of
delicacies to cheaper street foods as a curious gimmick -- fried meat and
hearty stews that people such as these would never deign to eat ordinarily.

Azriel very much missed being wealthy, but he still had
disdain for these particular sorts of wealthy people. At least his mother had
achieved her standing by being a cutthroat criminal and vicious political
mastermind, and he and his siblings (well, some of them) had worked to earn
their places in the family.

These people were nothing but plump, ripe fruits waiting to
be harvested.

He lingered by one of the buffet tables with an arm around
Larkin's waist, surveying the crowd. The black-out rings kept his gaze
concealed, so he appeared to be staring lovingly into her eyes rather than picking
out marks. "See anything you like, love?" he asked.

**Jen:**

 Mask, what had Azriel dragged her into. This was the kind of
place Larkin only ever saw from the outside, watching through a window before
slipping in to loot the dark, quiet rooms people never went to on these
occasions, or only to fuck. The new dress, jewelry and, of course, Azriel's
company made it easier for her to relax and pretend to be all casuall but she
still had the sense that everyone could see she did not really belong.

Not that she wanted
to be one of them anyway, having fun at a fucking Diva themed party. Of course
they could do it. No doubt they were the ones fled during the first few days of
the possessions who didn't have to fight for their lives or stave, happily
riding it all out in their cozy out of city estates. God, she'd have to tell
Goro about this. He'd lose his fucking mind.

“I wanna take from every single one of these disgusting
fucks,” Larkin said leaning in and planting a kiss in the crook of Azriel's
neck. She looked up and scanned the patrons behind him while letting herself be
drawn in for a hug.

Her eyes locked on a human woman with a stark white painted
face and delicate black designs winding from her blacked out eyes across her cheeks.
The paint was complemented by a net of black and white beads threaded into her
hair with silver wire. One hand utilized a fan while the other kept plucking
snacks off the food tray on the table in front of her. She seemed to have made
an especially delicious joke right now because her face vanished behind the fan
and her companions broke into giggles and gasps.

“Woman with the corpse paint behind you,” she whispered,
then straightened up and coaxed Azriel to turn around. “Oh, honey, your shirt
has come loose. Here, let me help you,” she said, louder, and busied herself
with tuggin around at his hems.

**Izzy:**

 He quelled a toothy grin down to a pleasant smile. Her
ferocity was delightful. He did wonder -- had they somehow met in Moorland --
whether she would see him as one of these reprobates, and find him disgusting
as well, but he supposed it was moot.

While she checked behind his back, he checked hers, and
zeroed in on man wearing gaudy cufflinks -- ones so heavy-looking they might genuinely
just drop off his cuffs bt themselves.

"Shall we split up and mingle?" he asked idly,
letting her 'fix' his clothing and spotting onyx-encrusted silver rings and
earrings of clustered pearls on the woman she had eyeballed. "Or dance
together?"

**Jen:**

 "I hate to say it but this might be more your, uhm...
kind of music." She took his hand. "Show me some steps."

**Izzy:**

 Azriel smiled. "I would love to. Back straight,
shoulders back, chin up, dear," he directed, leading her, meanderingly,
towards Cufflinks. That would be a simple target. "You see the man in the
black pinstriped suit, graying at the temples? His cufflinks are absurd. You
distract his date in the green dress -- without spilling anything on her,
please -- and I'll pretend to know him, shake his hands, and his belongings
will mysteriously vanish. Good?"

**Jen:**

 Larkin gave him a nod and his hand a squeeze, then wandered
off towards her mark. She walked past the lady on the settee, only glancing at
her out of the corner of her eye, then stopped apruptly. She turned back and,
positioning herself between the woman and her date, said "Excuse me,
miss."

Cufflink's date looked up, eyebrows raised in mild interest.

Larkin bowed down and lowered her voce. "Sorry to
interrupt, but your dress- the buttoning's come undone in your back."

The lady's hand fluttered to her mouth and she gave a little
gasp. "Oh, no," she said, "Could you-"

"Help? Why, sure." Larkin sat down next to her as
the woman twisted on the settee to turn her back.

**Izzy:**

 Clever. She was taking to this well. Azriel wiped his fond
smile away -- foolish, anyway, being so pleased by a partner in crime being
competent -- and came up on the other side of Cufflinks, staring at him long
enough to be noticed and then coming over with a slightly disbelieving
expression.

"Marcus?" he said, and didn't give the man time to
answer before he let a smile split his face and grabbed for Cufflinks' hands,
pressing them between his own and shaking them vigorously. "Marcus, good
lord, it's been years. How are you? Are you still with -- oh, forget that, you
wouldn't want to talk about --." He let his eyes slip behind Cufflinks to
his date, taking opportunity of the moment of extra flustering to slip the
links away. "Well, at any rate, how have you been doing, my friend?"

Cufflinks was desperate to be polite and not appear as if
he'd forgotten an old friend, so he put on a pained smile, awkwardly pulled his
hands away, and started talking about how he was doing, which Azriel nodded
along to eagerly, pretending to know more than he did with little leading
questions and comments.

Once Larkin had finished 'helping' Green Dress, the lady
stood up to come up alongside Cufflinks, and Azriel gave her a look with
ever-so-slightly widened eyes and hurriedly patted Cufflinks on the chest --
making away with his lapel pin while he was there.

"Ah, well, anyway, I wouldn't want to keep you from
your date," Azriel said. "Lovely to see you again, friend. We should
get drinks again soon." He winked and turned away to let them deal with
that, finding Larkin again and flashing her a grin to signal his success.

**Jen:**

 She joined him again as they moved away across the room.
"You been talking to an old friend, honey?" She said, slowly warming
up to this covert talk. Exhausting and annyoying but also kind of fun.
"How'd it go?"

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, wonderfully. Would you like to find a friend of
your own, next?" he asked, curious if her people skills were up to par.
Stealing from people as you looked them dead in the eye was different from
picking pockets. "Or shall I continue to be the social butterfly?"

**Jen:**

 "Hm." The swiping part would be easy enough. But
Larkin never had been one to flatter and talk hot hair like it seemed to take
to lure these people in and trap them. Didn't mean she couldn't try, though. A
bit of flirting, maybe, shouldn't be too hard. She could just imagine she was
doing it to Azriel.

Larkin tilted her head at the direction of the white painted
woman she'd singled out earlier. "Help me... entertain her
friends?"(edited)

**Izzy:**

 "I'd be delighted."

He gave her a slight bow and moved ahead, insinuating
himself into the group from the edges, then getting closer, joining the
conversation and then directing it until he was captivating their collective
attention a story -- a true one, actually -- well, it was based on a true one
-- he hadn't actually been there. A story about a caged owlbear.

**Jen:**

 “Oh, my!” Larkin slid in from the side, imitating a look of
mixed shock and excitement she'd seen Azriel use before. Her mark turned to
look at her and Larkin moved in closer, hands outstretched as if framing Corpse
Paint's face. “You look exactly like her!”

“I beg your pardon?” She glanced towards her group of
friends, all captivated by Azriel's story, then back at Larkin.

“Well, her.” Larkin leaned in a bit more. “The Glutton. I've
seen her.”

The woman's eyes grew wide at that and she covered her mouth
with a delicate swish of her fan. “You have? How?” She shifted in her seat,
turning her body to face Larkin more. Excellent. She'd caught her attention then.

“Oh, I've been to her shop. Before- you know.” Larkin waved
a hand.

“Oh, dear Lord Helm.” More fan swishing. It made the loose
strands of her hairdo flutter and her earrings sway. Larkin decided for just a
bit more, and went down on one knee before her, hands reaching for her free
one. Corpse Paint let her. This close, Larkin could see the dry paint on her
face crack and flake with every twitch of her face.

“Did you talk to her? Oh.” The woman snapped her fan close
and leaned forward to whisper. “Did you make a deal with her? They say she did
that.”

“She was scary,” Larkin said, looking her straight in the
eye and hoping to draw her attention in. “But beautiful. Like you.” She reached
up with both hands to gently brush the hair out of Corpse Paint's face and behind
her ears- plucking the earrings of her and letting them slip down her cuffs.

The woman kept leaning in, then halted and stood up
abruptly. Her eyes were narrow and the fan came back up between them like a
shield. “You are presuming too much,” she said over it, tone matching her
corpse-like appearance. “Get your hands away from me before I have to call for
help.”

Larkin also stood and backed off a bit. “I'm sorry, miss. I
didn't mean to- uhm,” she floundered, not finding a phrasing fancy enough.
Beside her mark, the group Azriel had been entertaining had noticed their
friend getting agitated and they were giving Larkin confused and irritated
looks. Time to book it. “I'm sorry,” she said again, then bowed away to lose
herself in the crowd.(edited)

**Izzy:**

 Azriel kept Larkin in his periphery, saw her hook the woman
quite skillfully -- but, ah, miss the mark a bit with the flirtation. Well, you
couldn't win them all. When you were a courtesan for long enough, you developed
the ability to tell early enough whether your targets were viable, but there
was always a chance -- she'd just had a bad stroke of luck.

He swooped in, shooting her a foul look for show as she
retreated, and cut off his story to slip beside the mark, taking her hands in
his and worriedly asking, "Are you quite all right? Would you like me to
find security? Or I could simply handle this problem myself -- my brother is
here as well, he and I can --."

"Oh, oh." At the big deal he was making, she
turned slightly pink under her plastered-on facepaint -- couldn't even be
called make-up, really; Jasper's warpaint was applied more skillfully.
"Well, I mean to say." She pulled her hands out of his and left her
rings behind, and he courteously put his hands behind his back, dropping them
into his pockets. "I'm all right now. Please do continue with your
story."

"As you wish." He gave her a nod and backed away,
to where he'd been before, to finish the story out -- abridging the end
somewhat now, but not too much. One of the ladies asked to get him a drink when
he was done, but he declined, claiming he'd promised a dance to someone else.

At that, he slipped away and found Larkin again, catching
her hand and genuinely pulling her onto the dancefloor before she could object,
other arm going around her waist, leaning in close to he ear. "A good
first try, love. But I suppose you have learned from the best."

**Jen:**

 "Good first try?" Larkin said, mocking his voice.
"I took the rings off her damn ears. I wanna see you do that." She
stuck her tongue out.

**Izzy:**

 "Do you? I will," he teased. "I'll take
smaller ones. And my mark won't rebuff me. Bet."

**Jen:**

 Azriel pulled her on to the rythm of the music and Larkin
had to concentrate on making her feet match his steps. Mask, dancing. How was
it that Azriel could keep making her do these things?

"You're on," she said and slowed down to make it
easier for her to keep up the steps and look for a target at the same time.
"What's the stakes?"

**Izzy:**

 "Hmm." He tilted his head, glancing around as they
turned. Adorable how awkward she was at this, and how determined to do it
right. He wondered if she might like him to teach her how to dance properly --
lessons up in his bedroom that started vertical and ended horizontal, with a
dance she already knew. But he needed to stop thinking those things.
"Winner gets all of the night's spoils?"

**Jen:**

 Larkin made a disappointed sound. "Lame. That's no real
risk. I already got a lot of spoils." She gave the bells on her horns a
shake.

Turning with Azriel, she spotted one tall gentleman dressed
in an especially expensive looking suit of black and green brocade. In his ears
several small golden rings set with green stones caught the lamplight as he
danced.

**Izzy:**

 He hmmed again. "Well, all right. I know what I want.
What do you want, you know, just on the off chance Mask smites me where I stand
and I'm unable to finish a job?"

**Jen:**

 "You'll tell me a secret." She winked with her
right eye.

**Izzy:**

 He scoffed. "Very well. I'll tell you a terrible story
with a sad ending. And you will let me visit you at your castle."

**Jen:**

 Oh fuck no. Mask. If he'd asked to visit her home, she'd
taken him to the place she stayed in or even gone so far as to show him to a
few of her favourite spots around the docks, but she couldn't let him into the
castle. Not only wouldn't the be able to get Goro out of their hair, all of the
other Runners were there, and Mishka, and her personal life was none of any of
their business. The bunch knew too much about her already. They'd tell Azriel
stuff he wasn't to know. Yet.

There'd be just too many questions asked if he came there.

"It's- not my castle," she tried. "Can't do
that. But I'll show you where I really live."

**Izzy:**

 "Non-negotiable," he said coolly.

**Jen:**

 She halted the dance and dropped her hands. "Why?"

**Izzy:**

 Oh. He'd ruined the fun. Well, he hadn't meant to do that,
but at the same time -- "You asked me about my blind eye and broken
horn," he hissed. "Why am I not allowed to fucking visit you?"

**Jen:**

 Because I have secrets from you and don't trust my embarassing
house mates? Fuck. This'd been a perfect day and now this. She didn't budge.
"Didn't you hear hear me? I said you can visit me at my fucking home. And
you didn't have to agree."

**Izzy:**

 "Your home, where you don't live anymore?" he
retorted. "S'pose I'll keep your bed warm for whenever you decide to drop
by." He grit his teeth. This honesty thing was bullshit. "Listen, I
just miss you. I'll drop it. Let's steal some more shit." He slipped away,
off the dancefloor and back into the crowd.

**Jen:**

 Larkin stared after him, puzzled. Where the fuck had that
come from? And why did he assume she didn't live in her place anymore? She
didn't now but that did not mean she wouldn't return. What the hell. They
barely knew each other, safe for the layout of their bodies, and here this
fucker acted like he'd had a right to meet mom and dad at family dinner.

Larkin decided she wouldn't be able to play nice right now,
neither with him nor with a mark, and slunk off towards the bar where waiters
tailored drinks to the guests' wishes.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel skulked around the party, doing what he was good at
-- slipping away rings, and bracelets, and on one occasion realizing that a
brooch was actually quite cheaply-made in addition to being horrible on the
eyes, and kindly returning it to the owner with a I'm so sorry, but I believe
you dropped this?

He considered ditching Larkin.

Eventually people would begin to realize that things were
missing, and then people would begin to realize that the two of them weren't
actually supposed to be there. If he'd made himself scarce already, suspicion
would fall on her alone, and he'd make it away with the bulk of the spoils, and
she would still have those earrings, proving her guilt. It would be an awful
thing to do. Petty. But he was a petty, vindictive, careless person -- he'd
been told it, and he wore it like armor, and repeated it with a sharp smile.

But it would be like ditching Amethyst, or Gabriel. Or Ba'ob.
The idea of hurting her like that and then never being able to see her again, because
she would have quite a good reason to stick a knife in his liver, made him ...
unhappy. It was foolish.

He'd hoped that when he'd said he missed her, she would say
it back. And get it. But if he wanted anything more from her, he was going to
have to say more, and he just wasn't up for that. He found her at the bar,
instead, after a while, and came up beside her and without looking at her,
said, "We should leave, soon. People are missing things, you know."

**Jen:**

 She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, raising her
glass to give her mouth something else to do than talk. She'd been following
him with her eyes, thinking. Brooding, really. They'd had such a great evening
together and all of sudden, just because she didn't want him to come to the fucking
castle, he'd turned all cold and angry. As if she'd slapped him. As if she'd
held a knife against him again and accused him of scamming her.

Had she... broken his trust somehow? Or did he think she was
somehow using him?

Didn't make any fucking sense. Wasn't like she'd just
dragged him off to fuck, then ditched him, or just fucked off when he denied
her. Larkin thought- was sure, really- that he'd been teasing with that.
Playing the waiting game because he liked it and maybe because he wanted to push
back against her as much as she wanted him to. Mask. But what if... that wasn't
all? What the fuck was it that he wanted?

Larkin took another sip, still not turning to him.
"Why're you fucking mad at me?"(edited)

**Izzy:**

 He closed his eyes briefly. It wasn't the time for that.
He'd warned her -- he could just leave now, guilt free. She could never say he
hadn't tried.

His tongue twisted in his mouth, trying to form the right
words. It would be easier to lie to her. Much easier than admitting to or working
out the truth. I'm not angry, darling -- well, that was just passive-aggressive,
and she was more the aggressive type. Or a simple I'm not. It doesn't matter.
I'm over it. Then they could go back to having a nice time, and he would forget
his silly fantasies and just focus on the theft, and the sex, and try very hard
to black out the spot in his memory where she'd sat quietly in the room and
watched out for him while he'd slept.

"Who cares?" he said finally, flatly. "We
should go."

**Jen:**

 "I fucking do, asshole." She turned now, scowling,
and set the glass in her hand on the bar. "No fucking idea what I did but
something crawled up your ass and I wanna know what." She kept her voice
low but couldn't stop herself fron snarling as she did. He wasn't going to pull
this passive-agressive bullshit on her.

**Izzy:**

 He found himself gritting his teeth, again. Yes. Great show
she was doing of caring. "Listen," he said, keeping his voice clipped
and measured. "I truly don't mind telling you about my eye." Mask,
what was he going to say -- my feelings are hurt? "I trust you with that.
I am ..." Offended? Insulted? Slightly hurt -- only slightly. "I
don't know what I have to do to get you to trust me."

**Jen:**

 She stared at him, incredulous. "I said you could come
to my fucking home," she repeated for lack of anything else. "I
don't- fuck, what-" She shook her head. They should fucking leave. She
should leave. But them, somehow she knew, she wouldn't see Azriel again. And
that... stung. Fuck.

She reached out to take his arm but stopped short before touching
him, waved her hand instead and moved past him to see if he would follow.
"Let's fucking go."

**Izzy:**

 "Yes, that's what I said," he muttered, following
her. He realized he'd hung his head and his posture had turned defensive, and he
quickly rectified it, putting an easy smile back on to get them out the door.

He'd forgotten how cold it was outside. It was snowing
again, lightly -- likely get worse as the night went on. He pulled his coat
tighter around himself and hummed a little tune to warm it, only feeling a mild
throb in his temples. Automatically, he started to reach for her hand to pass
the spell on -- didn't have to touch her to do it, actually, with
prestidigitation, but he wanted to.

This was stupid. She was the only person he knew in Skyport
that didn't live with him -- he wasn't counting Mishka Haeth and his
apprentice. His only fucking ally. He grabbed her hand anyway, letting the
warmth spread, and stopped, making her stop with him.

"Larkin. You know where I live. All of the time. And I
know where your fucking castle is, because I already tracked you down there
once," he reminded her. "I'm asking your permission to come see you
out of town, because I miss you, and I like you, and I can't even buy that from
you with the promise of an awful secret. What am I meant to think?"

Ah. He had said that he liked her. That was -- different
from trusting her, or enjoying spending time with her. Maybe she wouldn't take
it in any particular way. People liked other people. That was something they
did.

**Jen:**

 it's not that I don't trust you. I don't trust the place or
the people there. I don't want anyone I care about to be there. Only reason I
ever go to that place is because - my idiot best friend insist on living there.
God.

Larkin stomped ahead of him, the frustration she felt
starting to simmer to anger, but she tried putting a lid on it. It almost
startled her when Azriel took her hand. She turned to him with a scowl. It
softened as he spoke.

Oh. Damn. That... did make fucking sense, actually. I miss
you and I like you. There was that weird achy feeling in her stomach again, not
quite unpleasant but unsettling. She sighed, heavily, and rubbed her face with
her free hand.

"Azriel, fucking- look." She took a deep breath.
"It's not my fucking castle. I stay there sometimes but I don't fucking
want to, because..." It's full of potential dangers and if you came there,
you'd be at risk, too. "It's not that I don't trust you. I don't fucking
trust the castle, or the people there. I'm in Glimmerton for work and the only
reason I ever go to that damn place is-" she stopped again, grimacing.
Mask, she wanted to trust Azriel. Wanted him to be in on the secrets she still
kept from him so she could start just enjoying his company without being on
guard all the time. "-because my idiot best friend insist on living there.
It's not... not fucking safe."

**Izzy:**

 Oh. Then it came out, quietly: "Oh." That was --
different, then. It was dangerous. She was concerned for him. It occurred to him
to be annoyed that she thought he couldn't take care of himself, but he'd
managed to get himself into quite some unfortunate predicaments when he worked
by himself, in fairness. He needed a team to keep him safe.

She was ... being his team.

"Well, I wish you would have fucking told me
that," he said bluntly, blinking at her.

He wanted to ask, Why does your idiot best friend insist on
living there, then? Who is this idiot best friend? Why do they live with
untrustworthy people (apart from apparently being an idiot)? Can I help you
talk them out of it? But he was startled to have gotten that much, honestly. He
assumed she was being cagey and secretive, which was fair for a thief, it was
just frustrating to feel that she didn't trust him when he trusted her, and --
well, he'd been off the mark, there, he supposed.

Azriel didn't enjoy not having all of the information, and
losing his composure over things; he never knew how to come back from it. He cleared
his throat, and stepped closer to her. He would have very much liked to kiss
her, but he wasn't sure if he should. Mask knew she'd never shied away before.
He tilted his head at her a bit. "Shall we ... get that luxurious hotel
room, then, and I'll distract you from the unpleasantness?"

**Jen:**

 She ignored the invitation, really not in the fucking mood
for once. She crossed her arms. "Why?" No, that wasn't enough.
Clarity, Larkin. "I mean, what's it to you. That I-" she cut off.
This wasn't going in the right direction either. Fuck.

She let her arms
down, breaking that barrier, and flapped them against her side in frustration.
"I don't fucking get why you're so angry 'bout it. Why's it... What is it
you really want from me?" There was that tight, knotty feeling again, like
she was dreading something but Larkin did not know what.

**Izzy:**

 He drew back a little, less startled than confused.
"Well I'm not -- I'm not angry now." She appeared to be attempting to
... communicate. Dreadful. He tried to meet her halfway. "I just wanted,
ah." That was possibly one-sixteenth of the way. "You know."
That wasn't even a fractional amount. "Eh. You know. I said that I missed
you. I was ..."

Fuck Larkin, honestly. He sighed in exasperation.

"I want to spend time with you. You know, not just --
fucking, or fucking with people. I find your company enjoyable." He picked
at his nails, and scowled, and muttered, "Foolish, I'm aware." He
took a step back.

January 21, 2019

**Jen:**

 Oh. Oh, for fucks sake, was he saying that... Larkin blinked
at him, then crossed her arms again. More to hide behind them than to shut him
out this time.

"I... missed you, too," she said, scowling because
otherwise she might have grinned. "And not just for sex." She glanced
away and lowly added, "And I trust you more than's fucking
reasonable."

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, well, that's a terribly low bar," he joked
weakly. "As I am deeply untrustworthy. Criminal, you know. Scam
artist."

He stepped back in, then stepped closer, and tried to slip
his hand between her crossed arms to link them together again.

**Jen:**

 "Yeah. Me, too. Should get the fuck away from me,"
she said while letting him take her arm again.

**Izzy:**

 "Hm. Yes." He whistled a little to warm her coat
up again. "Deadly. If only someone were here to watch our backs, with all
of these dangerous malcontents running around."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, if only." She hung her head a bit to hide
the smile. "So, d'you, uhm, want to go somewhere else? For like, not
fucking or stealing."

**Izzy:**

 He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn't
actually have much of an idea of what existed outside of those things.
Scamming. It was really all scamming. He just knew that he didn't want to scam
Larkin, and eventually, he would get tired of just working with her. "Eh.
Like where?"

**Jen:**

 She glanced at him sideways. "I don't fucking know. Was
your idea to... just spend time or whatever."

**Izzy:**

 "Well." He scuffed a shoe against the street.
"Look, I'm a bit of a workaholic. I don't know what kinds of things
regular people ordinarily do with themselves. Shall we just ... walk around a
bit? The snow is rather --" he gestured vaguely towards the sky --
"romantic, I suppose."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah. Okay." Was better than just standing around
awkwardly. They'd done quite a lot of walking around together, though, and
Larkin suddenly felt exposed. Not just herself, but Azriel also. It's not safe,
she'd said about the castle but in fact, Azriel wasn't really safe with her
anywhere. Especially with the new threat of the Sanguines around. She should
not get attached to him, make him a fucking target. Maybe she should tell him
to be careful and keep an eye out... but he'd probably just scoff and point out
how he could protect himself. Larkin would have to tell him the whole truth if
she wanted him to take it seriously. Fuck, though. Fuck.

She walked alongside him, silently mulling this over and
gnawing at the inside of her cheek.(edited)

**Izzy:**

 This was ... pleasant. Was this really what people did? How
quaint. He'd taken suitors for strolls around the city before, of course, back
home, because he knew intellectually that it was something people did, but he'd
never had any particular desire to do it, himself. What was something else
people did? Went to ... bars, together? Hm.

He wished he could just take Larkin home. Not the house in
Skyport, but his actual home, his apartment in Moorland, where they could have
privacy. And not to do anything with it, right away, just -- to have it.

She seemed a bit tense, however. He wondered if she actually
wanted this, and if he should suggest something else. They seemed equally at a
loss about what they were doing, frankly; possibly she was just feeling awkward
about it.

"Would you like to go back to your place?" he
suggested. "Or mine, but I can't promise it won't be overrun with my
family members. Suppose we could scale the wall and hide in my bedroom,"
he said thoughtfully. "Or you could. I would take the front door. And
bring up hot cocoa."

**Jen:**

 "You're gonna have to climb if you want to see my
place. And I can't offer hot cocoa, unless we steal some." Would be nice
to have him at her place. Would be nice not being there alone anymore, and maybe...
not having to sleep alone either.

She remembered cuddling up with Goro on the couch, and
that'd been nice, but it was like sharing a bed with Finch in winter. It would
be different with Azriel. And Larkin wanted to know just how.

Fuck, though, wishing for that gave her a pang of guilt. If
she wanted to keep him around, she should really fucking start being honest
with him. And hope he wouldn't flip his shit and run off, which would be very
fair.

**Izzy:**

 "Well, I would suggest mine, then, considering how very
well I did climbing last time," he said lightly. He would rather like to
see where she lived. No real surprise that it was somewhere odd and out of the
way. But he also still very much liked the notion of getting her in his bedroom
and seeing what she was like -- comfortable, perhaps.

He wondered if he should say that. Tell her that he was
fascinated by the fact that she trusted him despite having seen the disparity
between how he behaved and what he felt. That he wanted to know more about what
she felt, and -- make what she felt be good. He wanted her to fall asleep while
he stayed awake and watched over her, but watched her, mostly, just to see what
that was like.

This was dangerous.

There had been a mark, one time, a half-elf who was half
from an important elven family in Alabaster, and Azriel had found him terribly
charming. He'd played the sitar, and Azriel had invited him over, once, to
perform together, and his mother had walked into the room and taken a single
look at him, and walked out, and he had never seen that lovely half-elf again
after that day. It had devastated him.

He didn't think that his mother had any power in Skyport,
but other people did, like the Church -- people who wouldn't bat an eye at
harming Larkin. As long as he cared for her, he was vulnerable, liable to be
devastated again, and that was the feeling and the unfortunate situation his
mother had been trying to spare him of by nipping it in the bud.

And it had worked, until Larkin. And he didn't want to pull
away and hold her at arm's length. He suspected he was in too deep for that,
now. He was beyond that one time, playing music together.

"If you come to my place," he blurted, "will
you spend the night? Or, you know." Work, and all. "Can you?"

**Jen:**

 "I don't-" she started, wanting to say how she
couldn't. Only, she did, didn't she? Her current responsibility was in
Glimmerton and she would spend the night in Skyport either way. Would've liked
it better to take him to her place, no chance of meeting other people there,
but... maybe it would be for the better. Less dangerous that way, staying in a
part of the city where she wasn't that known. The most sensible thing would be
to decline entirely and crawl into her bed alone but - Mask, even as she
considered it, Larkin knew it wasn't going to happen. She held onto him a
little tighter.

"You know, I just might. How many locks does your door
have?"

**Izzy:**

 "Three on the front door, two on my bedroom door, two
on my bedroom window," he recited. "Also, you've met Ba'ob and his
wolf friend." And my sister has a very large sword, and my brother has
magic, and honestly, it's very safe, really.

**Jen:**

 "I know." She grinned. "I was being
rhetorical." Kind of. Because there were others beside the wolf boy, like
the two half-elves that never seemed to wear shirts even in the snow, and Abel,
apparently. But it seemed to be important to Azriel, somehow, that she would
stay with him.

**Izzy:**

 "Well, it was a reasonable question," he said
primly. "You can't be too careful. Shady neighborhood, you know."

**Jen:**

 "Ha, and that's you living in the better parts. Maybe
we should go to my neighbourhood after all, if you’re still looking for some
thrills tonight."

**Izzy:**

 He grimaced. "I don't believe I am. Anyway, it's only
shady because of our presence, love," he added, grinning.

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, can't say that about the docks." But the
other side of the coin was, the docks were also way more exciting. "Must
be boring walking home alone after dark. No muggers, or drunks, or kidnappers
to watch out for."

**Izzy:**

 "You may call it boring. I call it moderately
safe." She lived by the docks, then. He was more pleased with himself for
buying the locket ring with the anchor motif -- though there had been one with
a songbird, as well, which would have been amusing in retrospect, given her
actual name.

**Jen:**

 "You ever had trouble in that part of the city?"
she asked, reminded again of the dangers she kept secret. She wondered who had
dominion over it. Not Renar, too far inland. The Sanguines? She'd never seen
them around in these parts but... these fuckers had ambitions.

**Izzy:**

 "Hm. Not really." He considered. "Some
breaking and entering. Mostly the geriatric around there, you know -- they've
some valuables left, but it's more the property that's worth anything. You
can't make off with a house, except bit by bit."

**Jen:**

 "Oh, you know I did. Once." Larkin smirked at him.
She'd not actually stolen the villa but, after some help from her and a few other
professional shady folk, it'd changed hands rather quickly and with not much
consent from the actual owners.

**Izzy:**

 "Fascinating. You'll have to show me how,
sometime."

**Jen:**

 "Sure, will do. But we also need a good document
counterfeiter and an assassin."

**Izzy:**

 "Hmm. Shame. I know a couple, but they're back in
Moorland."

**Jen:**

 Interesting. She thought about asking more about what he did
back in Moorland, but supposed he'd want her to reciprocate.

"Oh, I'd know where to find some. But they're a bit too
expensive to hire just for fun." She tilted her head, thoughtful.
"Maybe I should get into the murder business after all."

**Izzy:**

 "Well, there is good money in it," he said, a bit
dryly. Somewhat surprised she wasn't in it already, if he was being honest. She
didn't appear to have a weak stomach. Just a better thief than a killer, he
supposed -- she did have very deft hands. Which he meant in a crass way, but
also in the way that he was still rather impressed by how she'd looked into
that woman's eyes and plucked the earrings right off of her.

They had been in his neighborhood for a little while, but
walking slowly. He wasn't thrilled about this part being over, actually. The
walking around in the snow. It was dusting her shoulders and hair and horns
like powdered sugar on a sweet roll, and he wanted to just keep looking at her
as much as he wanted to hurry her inside and warm her up -- and just as much as
that, he wanted to carefully dust her hair off and kiss her gently. She looked
-- almost soft, right now. It was beguiling. Like a dagger hidden up a sleeve.

When they reached the townhouse, he paused. There were
lights on inside -- everyone might not be home (was Abel working tonight? He
couldn't remember), but some of them were. Mahto and Sami, likely, and Ba'ob
and his wolf, at the least. He glanced up to his bedroom.

"So ... window, then, love?" he asked. "I'll
meet you up there. Unlock the window, go back down for hot drinks."

He considered saying you don't have to stay the night, but
he rather doubted she was under the impression that he could make her do anything
she didn't want to do.

**Jen:**

 Larkin paused for a moment, taking in the sight of the house
and the lit windows- then turned to him with a smile. "You really know
what a woman wants to hear."

**Izzy:**

 Azriel couldn't help grinning back at her. "I do,
usually, as it's my job to say what people want to hear." He was possessed
by the notion to brush her hair back, and allowed himself to, running his
fingers lightly through her hair and across one horn. "But more
pertinently, I appear to want to say the things you want to hear, and you're an
unusual person, Larkin."

He wanted to say her last name, then, for emphasis, and it
occurred to him that he didn't know it. Ah, well -- criminals. She'd probably
only give him a fake one if he asked, if she answered him at all.

After all, he would.

He kissed her cheek and hurriedly turned away to head for
the door before he could become any more embarrassed by how horribly,
cringingly twee and chaste that had been, fumbling his keys out of his pocket
and clearing his throat. Mask. Or any other god, really. Whichever one was
listening. Was there a god for realizing you might be a desperately romantic
person, rather than just pretending to be one?

Ba'ob was in the sitting room, toasty warm by the fire and
colliding with him to present him with a gift -- nothing dead this time, just a
bit of shiny garbage. Azriel thanked him solemnly and patted his head -- gave
the wolf a pat too -- then went by the kitchen to see Mahto cooking something.
Excellent. Then Azriel didn't have to worry about feeding them all. They were
all adults (well, Ba'ob wasn't), but he still felt the need to mind them,
sometimes.

He got up the stairs as quickly as he could, clicked his
door shut behind him, then turned and saw that she had already let herself in
and was relaxing on his bed, still snowy, boots on, looking pleased with
herself.

He snorted in a very undignified manner. "Well, all
right." He dropped down perpendicular to her, resting his head on her
stomach, and made himself comfortable.(edited)

**Jen:**

 Mask, his face. Fantastic. Absolutely fucking worth almost
slipping off the icy window sill while hurriedly picking the locks. She wiggled
around a bit, making pleased sounds and shifting his head in a better position.

"They're not bad locks," she said. She rested one
hand on his chest and ran the other through his hair. "Might wanna get a
padlock for the inside, though."(edited)

**Izzy:**

 "Ooh, shall I lock you in?" he teased, rolling his
head so that he could look up at her. "Is that how I get you to spend the
night?"

**Jen:**

 "What makes you think I'm ever gonna leave this bed?
It's great." She wiggled her hips and shoulders some more, jostling
Azriel's head.

**Izzy:**

 "In that case, then." He did the same, twisting
his head back to jab his horns into her gut lightly, then feigning contriteness
to say, "Oh, terribly sorry, love," and reaching up to pull the caps
off and toss them towards the foot of the bed. "I guess I'm not going
anywhere, either."

**Jen:**

 She made a humming sound in her throat. "Hm, no.
Wouldn't've fucking let you either." Her fingers wound through his hair
and traced the lines of his forehead to the tip of his intact horn, then
wandered over to the broken one. Touching more lightly here, to see if he would
mind.

"Does it bother you?" she asked.

**Izzy:**

 He glanced up, as if he could see them. "Hm. It makes
blending in more difficult. Which is tricky enough, in Skyport. It's an
inconvenience."

**Jen:**

 "So it doesn't hurt?"

**Izzy:**

 He shook his head. "No, not anymore."

**Jen:**

 She let her fingertips trail over the ragged edge then.
"I know a boy who'd gotten both horns broken off. Said it was the worst
pain of his life."

**Izzy:**

 Azriel was quiet for a moment, then agreed, "Mm."
He'd led a rather painless life, up until that point. "I suppose I don't
have much to judge it against. But yes. I would say so."

**Jen:**

 "So,"she took her fingers off the horn and buried
them in his hair again. "How'd it happen?"(edited)

**Izzy:**

 He considered. He could speak in nebulous terms, or he could
just lie. He supposed he could just say that he didn't want to talk about it;
he hadn't told Jasper and Abel. Seemed odd to tell Larkin, then. But his
concern had been that his siblings might try to go home and do something about
the problem, and he didn't believe there was any chance of that happening with
Larkin.

So he told her the truth, vaguely.

"My parents are somewhat important in Moorland,"
he said. "Someone wanted to punish and control them, and used me to do
it." He paused. "It didn't work. My mother simply sent me away so
that it couldn't happen again."

**Jen:**

 Her fingers stopped circling in his hair and she said
nothing, blinking up at the ceiling.

This man, who was so strangely well mannered to the point of
being a constant act, and yet perfectly comfortable with her callous ways.
Stealing, scamming, sweet talking people. From Moorland, he'd said. Targeted
because of his powerful family, his powerful mother.

God. Fuck. Mask.

She had to know. But if she asked bluntly if he was a
Melaine, he'd sure as hell ask for how she knew. And then she'd have to tell
him she was a Basha, which... which wouldn't be too bad? Their families were
old allies after all. If Azriel was one. Which he sure wasn't because that'd be
just fucking insane.

**Izzy:**

 He realized she'd gone still, and not responded. Ah. Well,
he'd hardly gone into detail about how gruesome it had been, or how terrifying,
but maybe she was ... concerned for him.

"It wasn't so bad," he offered, glancing up at her
again. "It was over quickly."

**Jen:**

 "You just agreed it was the worst," she said absently.
How could she get his last name out of him without giving away what she was
getting at? Azriel would know how, for sure, but wasn't like she could ask for
advice now.

"Did your mother do anything about it?" she tried.
"Except to send you away, I mean."

**Izzy:**

 He shrugged. He had just said that, he supposed, but again
-- little frame of reference. He'd endured more drawn-out unpleasant things.
Pain was temporary. "I've no idea. I haven't heard."

**Jen:**

 Larkin frowned, distracted from her information gathering
mission. "No idea? You got no contact to your family? That sounds kind've
like... cutting you off."

**Izzy:**

 Again, he was quiet for a beat. He wondered -- how much of
this she had a frame of reference for. He had presumed that she worked for the
Basha, but he was keeping his head down on that front, and not asking questions
-- he didn't know what sort of position she was in, how well she understood the
inner workings of these things.

"For the best," he said finally. "If they
sent me letters, or things, you know -- it could be tracked. I did receive a
care package, but even that was a risk." And it hadn't exactly panned out,
given his current family had all fallen under the cursed items' sway and ultimately
lost them.

**Jen:**

 This only added to her suspicion. But what enemy was there
in Moorland that could threaten the Melaines like that? Something didn't
fucking add up here.

Dammit, she had to try. "Your family in the underground
business as well or... is that just you? Maybe I've heard of them."

**Izzy:**

 "Doubtful. You've never been to Moorland." He
remembered primarily because of the ridiculous thought he'd had about how
lovely it would be to show her around. The nice places, the less nice places.

Mask, he missed it.

**Jen:**

 "I've heard about the Melaines."

**Izzy:**

 "Have you?" Fuck. Hm. Why would she know his
family's name? Surely that wasn't common knowledge in Skyport, even among the
Basha's people. She was high level, then? Mask. This began to feel ...
complicated.

She fucking knew his name.

"Hm. My family isn't that important, I'm afraid. I hope
you won't hold it against me," he teased. "Not as highborn as I
pretend to be."

**Jen:**

 Was he lying now? Shit, she couldn't tell. It sounded
convincing enough. Maybe he really wasn't a Melaine- did they have retainer
families? Larkin felt her window closing but there was still space for one last
try.

"Good," she said in the same teasing tone. "I
wouldn't know what to do with a highborn gentleman anyway, much less a Melaine.
What's your family name then?"

**Izzy:**

 "Well, what's yours, love?"

**Jen:**

 Well, what was it. This could be the moment where she told
him- and possibly ruin a perfectly good day. Again. Or she could use a fake
name again, but if she ever changed her mind... How'd he react to finding out
she'd still not trusted him enough? Not well probably. Even though this wasn't
all about trust.

She chose a middle way. "My mother's name was
Huang-Ko."

**Izzy:**

 "Larkin Huang-Ko, hm?" He rolled it around.
Interesting name. Seemed like she was avoiding the question, though, really.
Maybe this could just be a future problem, though, if it was one.

"Khole," he said. "My siblings have different
last names, though. It's complicated."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, sounds like a really complicated family you
have."

Larkin noticed how rigid she'd gotten and moved to relax a
little. Her fingers idly fiddled with the buttons of Azriel's waistcoat.

**Izzy:**

 "Mm, terribly so," he agreed. "You've no
clue, really." Especially if he included Ba'ob in his family, which he
found that he did, these days. He laced his finger between hers.

Danger, his gut said again. Danger.

He couldn't trust his instincts, though. They'd been groomed
into something different over the course of his life. He supposed he would just
have to take for granted that this was a misfire, and he was still safe,
because he dearly wanted to be.

January 22, 2019

**Jen:**

 Mask, how could a moment be at once so deeply comforting and
sting so much. Larkin ached to just drop the matter, prop another pillow under
her head and enjoy what they had.

But she knew something was off. And she'd never done well do
ignore her gut instincts.

Dig just a bit deeper, she promised herself, only rule out
one last thing, then let it go, because there was one other thing to worry
about, and this one was the real danger.

"Was it the Melaines then, who did it to you?" she
asked lowly, holding herself still, and her fingers between his, to notice any
tell-tale twitches. "They enemies of your family?"

**Izzy:**

 "No," he said. "Someone else."

The interest was making him -- suspicious. He wanted to
believe she was simply concerned, but if she knew of his family, she must know
they were allies of the Basha. If he lied and said the Melaines had done this
to him, exactly what would she do with that information, the information she
was so clearly fishing for?

Danger. Danger.

He wanted to question her back, or at the least say you
know, love, I believe I'm done talking about this, but if he were anything less
than completely forthcoming, she might well take that as a sign he was being
dishonest about it all. His stomach tightened at the prospect, but he had a way
to distract her, or try to -- and if it worked, or it didn't, that may tell him
something else.

"They held me down in the street," he said, low
and level, "facedown, with a boot on my back, and the bricks --." He
slipped his hand away from hers to trace a finger down the scar that ran
through his eye, then took her hand again. "I had never realized the edges
were sharp, before. It took her several tries to made the horn snap."

**Jen:**

 She grimaced and squeezed his hand. Her instincts were still
insisting that something was off, that she should dig deeper until there was
nothing but the bare truth, but- there was also the pain in his voice. And
Larkin didn't want to do that to him.

There would be other chances. She should drop it now, before
he got suspicious himself, or angry again. So Larkin did.

"You don't have to tell me more if you don't want
to." She ran her fingers through his hair again and down hin cheek and
neck, staying clear of the scars.

**Izzy:**

 It had worked the way he had hoped -- she didn't pursue it
any further, and she went back to stroking his head in a comforting way. But he
remained uneasy. There were what-ifs he wanted to ask, but he had no way of asking
them without potentially tipping her off. He told himself to be content with
the fact that she didn't want to hurt him. Which was pleasant, genuinely.

He hadn't told anyone about what had happened to him. Only
his parents -- and Gabriel had been there -- but none of them were particularly
comforting prescences. Gabriel was a cold, indifferent monster and Azriel had
still all but begged him to accompany him to Skyport, to protect him, so that
he wouldn't be alone, and Gabriel had looked to their parents for permission
and pulled away when it was denied. That was as much as Azriel had gotten.

He felt he should make some joke, or flirt with Larkin
again, to ease the awkward mood back to something more enjoyable, but all he
managed was a, "Mm," of acknowledgement, and he shifted to get closer
to her.

**Jen:**

 How weirdly quiet he'd gotten. Seemed to happen every time
she bored too close to the core. This story at least was nothing but the plain
truth.

"It's part of it all, I 'spose," she said.
"I've gotten attacked too, for- for, y'know." Being someone's family.
"Close call, once or twice."

Difference was, Larkin had always gotten away with her life
and body mostly intact. What injuries she'd received had mostly healed over
time. How extremely lucky.

**Izzy:**

 Attacked for -- well, yes, he wanted to say; gang wars
happened, foot soldiers got attacked and killed in slews. (Was she a foot
soldier, though?) He had been targeted. Fucking tortured for his name. It was
different, he wanted to say.

But he supposed death and near-death were all the same, in
the end. She no doubt understood that better than he did.

"I'm a bard, love," he said. "I played music
and entertained fine folk at fancy dress events. It was never supposed to be part
of it, for me." He paused. "Just spoiled, I suppose."

**Jen:**

 "Hm." She played with the rings rings on hand,
twisting them on her fingers. "You know what, I'm fine folk now." She
rolled out from under him, bangles tingling, and splayed herself out like a
starfish. She chucked one of the rings at him.

"Entertain me
while I lie here being rich."

**Izzy:**

 Azriel laughed. She was a quick study, wasn't she --
distracting him with bullshit. Well, he'd take it. He tossed the ring back at
her, straightening and picking his viol case up from the floor. "Not quite
silk sheets and rolling in gold," he said, clicking it open and returning
it to the floor once the viol was propped up. "I do apologize, fine
lady."

He considered for a second, then started playing the song
she had requested of him the night they'd met -- when she'd come over and
pretended to be a fan of his music, then startled him by commenting on his
clever fingers. Wretch. He smiled and closed his eyes.

**Jen:**

 "The lady likes it best this way." She pulled over
a pillow and stuffed it under her head, then waved a hand. "Continue,
musician."

Larkin tapped her fingers along with the tune and wrigling
her toes. This was the one she'd requested from at the Sanctuary port, wasn't
it? He'd remembered. Why did that make her so happy?

**Izzy:**

 He snorted again -- so undignified, and she kept making him
do it -- and segued smoothly into another song, a slower, more dramatic one,
humming along with every few notes, summoning up little illusory will-o-wisps
and drawing sparks out of the strings. He opened his eyes to focus on the flames,
shaping them, frowning as he split his attention to use his thaumaturgical
magic to dim the other lights in the room for the moment.

The will-o-wisps took more of his attention. He split one in
half, pulled at the corners of the fire to draw horn-like curves out of them --
three and a half in total, between the two. He spun them around each other,
swirling up, then back down, across the room -- dancing until he swirled them
back together and spun them into the fireplace, making it flare back up.

He much preferred this sort of magic. He'd learned how to
launch fireballs from his bow, and wrench deafening crashes from the string,
but this -- this was more enjoyable. Skillful, and subtle, and careful.

The song ended, and the room lightened again, and he gave
Larkin a tiny bow -- all he could manage, still sitting on the bed -- and
commented, "It is customary to tip the entertainment in the manner of your
choosing, just so you're aware, fine lady."

January 23, 2019

**Jen:**

 She laughed upon realizing what he was doing with the
dancing lights. Such a sappy idea, but sweet, and also fascinating to watch.
What an Azriel thing to do.

When he was done she rolled over onto her knees and crawled
the short distance between them.

"The lady tips you a wish," she said, tugging on
his collar with both hands. She brought her face close enough to kiss but did
not quite touch his yet.

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, my, a wish," he teased quietly, a breath
away. "The mind boggles at the possibilities."

He could wish for a kiss, but then, he could also just steal
one. He could wish for something that would only ruin the mood, and that she
wouldn't give to him anyway, but what was the point? He wanted to know more
about her, without invading her privacy, or extract a promise from her that she
would spend time with him without annoying her about it. The ingratiating thing
to do would be to wish for something she already wanted -- and he was sure
there were things she wanted that would be quite pleasant for him, as well.

"Hmm." He made a show of thinking about it,
setting his viol aside and slipping closer to her, letting his lips brush hers
and no more, resting his hands at her waist. "I wish for a story, then. A
secret, if you have a good one."

**Jen:**

 "Hmm." Larkin laid her hands on his shoulders and
tilted back, contemplating. "What kind of story? A nice one or... not so
much?"

**Izzy:**

 "Whatever kind you like." He thought again, and
added, "A long one. Entertain me."

**Jen:**

 "But I'm no bard," she said just as she coaxed him
into turning around and getting settled against the pillows. "I'm not used
to entertaining fine folk. I rob the boots off their feet."

Larkin bent over to undo the buttons on her own, kicked them
off, and sat cross legged. "Alright. Long story. Hm." She chewed on a
knuckle, thinking.

"Oh, yeah, I know. So," she said, "Secret
first. I'm kinda working alone now, or not always with the same partner at
least, but I used to until, like, a year and a half ago." Not really a
secret but also nothing he'd known. That counted.

"We used to do burglaries together," she continued
before Azriel could object. "Real elaborate break-ins, was heaps of
fucking fun." Most of the time anyway, when none of them got sliced open
or thrown into a dungeon.

"One time we did this job where we were supposed to
steal a horse. Problem was, the owner had pretty tight security. So we spent
some time just staking the place out and, lo and behold," Larkin spread
her hands presenting the problem's solution, "turns out the owner had a
habit of going out for overnight visits to a friend, like once every two weeks.
And every time he did, the guards and the stable hands would get plastered
together and gamble away their money."

"So, what we did was, we waited until the owner left
and the stable hands were blackout drunk in their beds, then slipped in during
a gap in the guard's round. Problem is, there's always something going fucking
wrong. We got in fast, and were just about to get the horse out, when the
stable boy comes down the ladder for a piss or something.”

“We have nowhere to go, so I climb up the wood works fast as
I can and my partner just hops over into the next stall. And the boy, he-"
Larkin shook her head, chuckling, "he's so out of it, he doesn't even
fucking notice the stall's open. But he doesn't walk past like we think, oh no.
He goes in and starts fucking talking to the horse. Whispering into its ear and
shit, telling it this sob story of his life while chugging a bottle of
booze." She shook her head again, more exasperated this time.

"And, y'know, we're still there. Me up in the rafters,
hanging on for dear life and trying to pull myself up without making too much
noise, and Finch over in the other stall. And I can see him from up there, and
he's got his hands over his face because he's sitting there in hay up to his
neck, and he's just trying not to fucking sneeze." The sentence ended in
laughter as she remembered Finch's face, looking like he was about to burst. In
hindsight, even if he had sneezed, the stable boy probably wouldn't have
noticed. He'd been asking a damn horse for love advice, for fucks sake.

"Anyway, eventually the boy's got his bottle empty and
he passes out. My partner has to come catch me then, because I'd been holding
on with my feet, and I had the worst fucking cramp in my leg. Just couldn't
climb back down."

“Next thing is, he's lying square in the doorway, so we have
to drag him aside so we can get the horse out without him getting trampled.
Didn't wake him up, fortunately. Even better, with the boy out cold in the
stable, and the doors open, it looked like he just fucked up and the horse
wandered out.” Larkin grinned, satisfied with her story. “Worked out perfectly
in the end.”

**Izzy:**

 Azriel settled back against the pillows where she'd put him
obediently, unbuttoning his waistcoat to relax. It was intriguing to him,
somehow, that she'd once had a partner -- and he wondered if there was some other
story behind why she no longer did -- but he stayed quiet and let her tell the
story she wanted to tell. Maybe he'd earn another one, later.

He listened with growing amusement, snickering at the mental
image of Larkin scurrying up a beam and clinging on for dear life as some poor
fool told his life's troubles to a horse. And it was unreasonably endearing
that she ended this tale of a comedy of errors by saying that it all worked out
perfectly -- it sounded quite harrowing, to him. Different mindsets, he
supposed.

By the time she'd finished he was grinning uncontrollably.
"Fucking delightful," he said, then put on a haughty voice and
imperious expression to demand, "Another."(edited)

January 24, 2019

**Jen:**

 "Pff." Larkin shook her head. "That was your
tip. You want another one, you gotta earn it."

**Izzy:**

 He laid one limp hand over his eyes dramatically. "Oh,
but I'm exhausted from all that magic. My face may erupt with blood again. You
have to distract me from the pain."

(He peeked at her from under his hand as if checking to see
if she bought it.)

**Jen:**

 "Ah, in that case..." She bent to pick up a boot
and pulled it back on. "I better go so you can recover in peace. I'm gonna
get Wolf Boy to protect you, alright?"

**Izzy:**

 "Nooo." He laughed and grabbed her arm, wrapping
both of his around it to keep her from moving any further. "Bluff called,
love, bluff called. Very well." He grinned at her. "What shall I do to
earn it?"

**Jen:**

 Oh, the possibilities. There were quite a lot of things
Larkin wanted him to do, especially to her, but as it was, she did enjoy this
kind of bantering just as much as spending time with Azriel naked. Maybe later.

She smirked at him, then kicked the boot off again and
settled in a bit closer. "A secret for a secret?"

**Izzy:**

 He sighed and fell back into the pillows, as if it were some
grand imposition. "I suppose. If I must." To cover for the fact that
he had quite a lot of secrets, really, and needed time to sort through them, he
asked, "What sort of secret, then?"

**Jen:**

 "A shocking one," Larkin said, earger to find out
more about him but not wanting to pressure in a specific direction again.

**Izzy:**

 "Ooh." He pondered. "What about me would
shock you? Hmm." It was a good question. He might have to ask her the same
one.

The cheap route, he supposed, would be something sexual --
he wasn't sure if she realized that when he said he was a bard and an
entertainer of fancy folk, what he meant was that he was a courtesan. There
were definitely some delicious stories to be mined from that walk of life. He
could even tell her about his recent encounter with Mishka Haeth. She probably
knew who he was -- she'd likely find that interesting.

It was cheap, though. A bit easy. And she may not find any
of it particularly shocking, all things considered. No, no, something at odds
with his usual persona was better.

"Ah, I know." He shifted to pull her closer.
"This will shock you because you've seen my superb athletic abilities
firsthand. When I was younger, before I started working with my family, I actually
used to run with street thieves. Gangs of children, you know, stealing sweets,
then scampering away across the rooftops. I was quite good at it." He'd
been rather proud of himself, as well. "Traded in those skills for
different ones, as I grew up, though."

**Jen:**

 That did sound quite familiar. Only Larkin hadn't stolen
sweets (not primarily at least) and she'd grown into the skills rather than
give them up. She tried to imagine Azriel as a kid scampering up a drain pipe,
but only came up with the image of the adult version trying his best not to
fall.

"Yeah, you're right." She laughed. "That is
shocking. Maybe I should help you get back to some of it?"

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, please." He studied his hands. "And lose
my flawless bard physique?"

**Jen:**

 "Oh, yeah. That." She poked him in the chest.
"Maybe just enough so you don't break your neck when you come visit
me."

**Izzy:**

 "Mask, what gauntlet of horrors is involved in visiting
you? Let me guess." He made his tone conspiratorial. "You live at the
top of a clocktower, or a lighthouse, and there are no stairs -- I must fight
my way through fiendish traps and up sheer surfaces, and then, just when I
think I've won, and I make it to the top, I see you standing by the ledge.
'No,' I cry, 'Larkin, don't jump.' But you do, daringly, because of course, you
planned for this, and you have a featherfall harness. So I have to fight my way
back down the tower of terrors to reach you again. Yet somehow --" he
pressed his face against her, smiling, and kissed the line of her jaw --
"in the end, it all turns out to be worth it. Yes. If it's anything less
than that, I think I'll be quite disappointed, actually."

**Jen:**

 Larkin snorted through his dramatics, turning to that stupid
giggling again Azriel kept making her do as his lips brushed her neck. She
caught her composure, then his face in both hands to kiss him on the lips.

Made her feel light-headed again, and warm all over. Mask.

"Shit." She drew away, looking serious. "If
that's what it takes to keep up with a bard's standards, I'm gonna have to
move. I'd fucking love a belltower for myself but, alas," she rolled her
eyes in mock despair, "it's just a dusty old attic."

**Izzy:**

 He gave a theatrical gasp. "Then get out of my house
this instant, until you're able to fulfill my absurd fantasies. No, I changed
my mind." He pulled her back in immediately, wrapping both arms around her
waist, giving her quick, light kisses that made his lips buzz. "Tell me a
secret, instead, and if it's good enough I may let you stay."

**Jen:**

 "Alright. So what if I told you, I wasn't always this
good at breaking into bedrooms?"

**Izzy:**

 "Unbelievable," he proclaimed. "Lies."

**Jen:**

 "Eh, it's fucking true." She pulled her legs into
a more comfortable position and got settled against Azriel. “I remember one
time when I was little, and just learning all the tricks from the older kids. I
tried to...” she paused, staring off into space for a moment, collecting the
details of the story. “So, when I was little I had this stuffed toy shark.
Fucking loved the thing, dragged it everywhere even when running with the
gangs. Anyway, one time I fucked something up. Don't really remember what, but
my uncle took the shark away from me and locked it in his bedroom. I sobbed for
a while until he told me to cut it out and don't be such a baby.” Larkin didn't
remember the exact words but she was quite sure her distress over the shark had
annoyed him even more than whatever she'd done before.

“So that's what I did. Didn't have any tools back then, or
any idea how to pick a lock, but I could climb and I knew where in the- uhm, I
knew where to find tools. So I got a bolt cutter- damn thing was almost as big
as I was- strapped it to my back and climbed up to my uncle's bedroom window.
Even thought to do it when he was out.”

Larkin chuckled, recalling what an ordeal it had been to get
to the top of the warehouse with the weight of the thing pulling on her. The
soldiers on guard duty who'd spotted her had given her curious looks, but at
that time they were already used to seeing the red tiefling girl climbing
around the roof.(edited)

“So I sat there on the windowsill and tried cutting open the
shutters somehow. Didn't fucking work, of course, because it was the wrong tool
and I was like, five. And like I said, thing was as tall as I was. Almost
slipped my hands, even, and took me down with it.”

“Anyway, eventually I get the shutters open, somehow, but
the moment I do the window opens and I faceplant it into the room. Turns out my
uncle had been standing there the whole time because someone had tipped him off
and he'd just waited for me to get in. He didn't even say anything, just pulled
me up by the back of my shirt and dumped out of the room. Made me repair the
shutters the next day but after I did-” Larkin gave Azriel a winning smile. “I got
the shark back.”(edited)

**Izzy:**

 Azriel listened, absolutely entranced by this story. Fucking
adorable, the mental image of her as a child, dragging a little stuffed shark
around with her gang to break-ins and shopliftings. He wondered if she still
had the shark, boxed up somewhere, under her bed or in a closet. It seemed like
something a hardened street soldier might be embarrassed about, and she had
told him.

He wondered, too, about her uncle. Had he raised her, then,
to be in the position of taking her things away when she misbehaved? Had he
been the one to teach her criminal ways?

He wished he could tell her a story about his family, but he
didn't have anything that felt safe to tell. His uncle was the lord of the
city, and his parents the underbelly rulers. One of his older brothers was the
commander of the Masked Militia. Two of this other siblings had vanished from
their home. Amethyst -- well. Maybe there was something safe he could mention
about her.

Either way, he committed the shark thing to memory. He'd
have to buy Larkin something with a shark motif, then.

.

"My little sister -- well, one of them -- the one who
is actually smaller than me -- she's a bard, as well. Not as good as I am, of
course." Ah, that made it sound like he was insulting his baby sister.
"I mean, less practice. She has rather sticky fingers. You would probably
like her.

"Anyway, one time -- I was meant to be watching her in
the Floating Market, but I was, ah, distracted by a pretty face and an
overstuffed wallet, myself, and I lost track of her for a moment. My parents
would have been furious." They had already been down by Abel and Jasper,
after all, by this point. "So I knew I had to find her again before they
realized."

He remembered she hadn't been to Moorland. "The market,
you know, it lives up to its name -- it floats on the swamp. So naturally, I
thought, well, my sister has no doubt fallen into the muck and drowned. Our parents
will publicly execute me. What a failure of a brother." He snorted. It had
been one of those times he was being genuinely dramatic, in his own head,
rather than out loud for effect. "And I couldn't call out for her, because
-- my mother would have heard, of course, and known what was going on.

"So I scurry around the rafts for a while, in a panic,
hissing her name desperately. And then I start to hear music -- viol music. And
only then do I realize that my viol case feels light. I look up and see the little
devil in the crook of a tree, playing the only song she knows on the instrument
she stole from me before pretending to kidnap herself, absolutely fucking
beaming down at me.

"Do you know that terrible song children sing -- the
song that never ends?" He hummed a few bars of the repetitive schlock.
"She's just sitting up there playing that -- poorly, might I add -- and
grinning as I try to climb the tree and get her down. Completely failed, by the
way." He laughed. "She came down on her own once my father found us.
Didn't snitch, though. Hellion."(edited)

January 25, 2019

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, sounds like I'd love her." The perfect ally
to play pranks on Azriel. That'd be hilarious. "That's a lot of sibling
you got. I don't have any. Would've loved to have some as a kid, though."

Growing up, Larkin had known a lot of kids her age. The
street rats who taught her to swipe pockets, and the children of soldiers and
gangsters who she learned to brawl with, and cheat at cards, and who in the
ranks you could pull pranks on and who would kick your ass for it. But it
wasn't quite the same thing as having siblings, was it? None of them were being
raised by the Basha himself (or, in actuality, by whoever poor sod got tasked
with watching her any given day). With none of them could she share the load of
expectations she had to carry, nor the loneliness of missing Pa. The orphans
missed their parents, of course - those who still remembered them, anyway. But
it was different, too. None of them missed her parents.

But then again, it also sounded like siblings could be major
pains in the ass, and Larkin had never had much patience for bullshit.

She thought about telling him she knew Abel then, but no,
Azriel might go talk to his brother about her and find out she worked for the
Basha. Also, the awkwardness. God. Larkin had not seen the older tiefling at
Azriel's house yet but if he did live here, she'd have to make sure to enter
through Azriel's bedroom window only. Hopefully he wouldn't take that the wrong
way.

**Izzy:**

 "Mm," he agreed.

Two older brothers, two younger sisters -- and Ba'ob, now,
though it was a bit different considering they hadn't grown up together. With
Abel disappearing and Gabriel ... being Gabriel, it had often fallen on Azriel
to mind the younger two, while attempting to live up to the older two. The
older sibling, but not the eldest -- not the strongest, or the cleverest, or
the most brutal, nor the most remarkable disappointment of the family.
Somewhere vaguely in the midground, always.

"Well, you know." He shifted, cozying against her.
"Siblings. I love them a great deal, but I'm also rather convinced they'll
be the death of me eventually, one way or another." He paused. "Once
my sister was mind-controlled by a specter and we had to fight its undead
corpse in order to free her from its thrall. Would've very much just liked to
just run away from that encounter, but, alas. Sibling loyalty."

**Jen:**

 Larkin twisted so he could fully appreciate her sceptical
look. "Is that a joke?"

**Izzy:**

 "What, that I wanted to run away? Have you met me,
love?"

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, that. Never mind the part about your sister getting
possessed by a zombie... ghost. Thing. The running, yup."

**Izzy:**

 "Ohh, I wouldn't say possessed." He waved it off
as if she were being needlessly dramatic. "Frankly, knowing my sister, she
also may have just had a crush on the ghost and been doing as it said of her
own volition. Either way."

**Jen:**

 "That'd be a weird thing to be into. Is that a family
thing?" she teased.

**Izzy:**

 He snickered. "Not as far as I'm aware. Perhaps I've
not met the right ghost yet. Do you know many?"

**Jen:**

 "Ghosts? Well." She cocked her head, as if counting
them all. "Nah. Seen only one, if she really was one, and I killed
her." Larkin paused and frowned. "Yeah, I put a bolt in her throat,
so maybe she wasn't a real ghost after all. Dunno. Anyway, I can't refer you to
any. Sorry, honey." She leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

**Izzy:**

 "Hm, then undead kill count is something we tie on.
Lovely."

Honey? Honey. That was fucking adorable. At the risk of
making a pun, it was terribly sweet -- and certainly unexpected. Good lord. He'd
been called pet names before, and likely even that one, specifically, but
they'd always slipped off his back. They were a vocal tic, as much as anything,
for him, and he tended to regard them as just as empty coming from anyone else.

But Larkin didn't say things like that, and she didn't say
empty things, either.

Mask. Maybe she wouldn't notice he was flustered.

**Jen:**

 "Well, I did kill some of the zombies during the
plague. Does that count?"

Also, she'd helped kill their queen but she'd hardly mention
that to Azriel. Had been bad enough the first few weeks after, when some people
had recognized her on the streets somehow, and pointed fingers and tried to
fucking talk to her about it.

**Izzy:**

 "Hmm." He acted as though this were something that
took much deliberation, then sighed heavily. "I suppose. Then it seems
you've bested me once again. Astonishing."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, well, that's one win I'd have gladly passed on.
City was a real shit show at the time."

**Izzy:**

 "I would have walked right into it, had you not warned
me, you know," he commented. He was sure he would have slipped away from
the danger somehow, but still. "Life saver, really."

**Jen:**

 Larkin hummed and shoved against him, settling with her head
on his shoulder. "So, that means you owe me?"

**Izzy:**

 "You don't think I paid you back sufficiently that
night on the roof?" he asked, feigning insult.

**Jen:**

 "I think," she said, reaching up a hand to run it
through his hair, "that doesn't count because you also owed me for trying
to swipe the watch."

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, love, I think I paid you back multiple times that
night."

**Jen:**

 Larkin didn't answer, just grinned so wide her face hurt and
let herself tilt over to lie with her head in his lap.

**Izzy:**

 He grinned back and tangled a hand in her hair, smug over
his victory, and also very pleased for some other reason that he was sure was
completely unrelated and had nothing to do with how happy she looked.

**Jen:**

 It crossed her mind to make a dirty joke then, demand to be
reminded of how exactly he'd paid her back or just pushing him down and giving
him a reminder. But somehow... just lying here with Azriel, having his hands in
her hair and him smiling at her like that had her perfectly content. Somehow.

This was new, and really not fucking bad at all. She held
his look, staring up at that great shit-eating grin of his. God. Fuck. Where
did all this blood in her face suddenly come from? She bit the inside of her
cheek and broke the eye contact.

"Hey, so... what about that hot cocoa, huh?" she
asked, despite feeling anything but cold.

**Izzy:**

 Oh, this was a total victory, then. She was changing the
subject. Delightful.

He kept grinning at her and tsked and pushed it. "Aw,
love, if you're chilly I'm sure I can find some other way to warm you up."
Then he bowed his head slightly. "But never let it be said I'm an
ungracious host. If the lady is thirsty, the lady gets a drink."

**Jen:**

 Mask knew she was thirsty for a lot of things right now. Not
standing for Azriel making this blushing fool out of her for one. She narrowed
her eyes for a moment before getting up to straddle him, hands cupping his
head.

"Actually, I think I wanna make you squeal a bit first.
Then cocoa."

**Izzy:**

 "Squeal?" He widened his eyes, trying to look
offended again but too amused. She kept doing that to him -- provoking these
genuine reactions from him that were difficult to police, whether they were
positive or negative. "I don't make such undignified sounds, I'll have you
know."

**Jen:**

 "Really? Weird. Must've been someone else then, on the roof.
And in the bath." She shifted her seat a bit lower on his lap.

**Izzy:**

 "Hm." He bit his lip at the motion, still
grinning. "Listen, I told you we could involve someone else, if you wanted
to, but I assure you there's been no one else yet. You must have
misheard."

January 26, 2019

**Jen:**

 "Hm...nah. Think again, sounded something like
this."

She let out a moan, making it sound genuine enough at first,
then drew it out into a high pitched caricature of itself. "Oh, oh,
Mask," she wailed and rolled her eyes.

**Izzy:**

 Azriel yipped and moved to try to put a hand over her mouth
to silence her, alarmed and laughing at the same time. "Shh! Do you want
my family to hear you? Mask."

**Jen:**

 "Hear me?" She evaded his hand but stopped the
moaning. "They'll think it's just you getting yourself off."

**Izzy:**

 He snorted. God, they really might think that. What an
embarrassing thought.

"I'll have you know I'm not nearly so
high-pitched," he objected, well aware he'd only seconds before made a
sound like a startled small animal. "They'll know I have company and
they'll want to meet her. Are you prepared for that gauntlet, love?"

**Jen:**

 She pressed her lips together, trying to conjure up a smart
reply, but had to shake her head. "Nah. You got me there."

**Izzy:**

 "Oh, thank god." He didn't bother hiding the
relief in his quiet laugh before he kissed her back. "Me fucking either,
honestly. What a nightmare."

**Jen:**

 "So, what're you gonna tell them then, when I'm done
with you later, and you're down there in the kitchen making two cups of cocoa
with a big stupid grin on your face, huh?"(edited)

**Izzy:**

 "I'll tell them I sustained a terrible head trauma and
I need cocoa for my imaginary friend," he said solemnly.

**Jen:**

 "What if someone wants to check on you? I'm not gonna
hide under the bed while you get fed chicken broth." She stuck her tongue
out at him.

**Izzy:**

 He scoffed, smiling anyway, highly amused by this mental
image. "I'm the designated adult of this household, love. I take care of
them, they don't take care of me. Although Ba'ob would potentially bring me a
dead bird in effort to make me feel better," he added thoughtfully.

**Jen:**

 "Hm." Larkin tilted her head back to think, then grinned.
"That means I can rough you up and no one's gonna be bothered over it?
Like the sound of that."

**Izzy:**

 "Well, maybe someone," he confided. "There's
this tiefling, you see. Vicious with a knife. Quite terrifying. I believe she
may object to anyone else harming me."

January 27, 2019

**Jen:**

 "Eh, sounds like an asshole." She shifted her seat
again, stretching out to lie half on top and half beside him. "I'll kick
her ass for you. Just tell me." She nipped his neck lightly, then kissed
him there.

**Izzy:**

 "I can look out for myself, you know," he said
primly. "I set her on fire." Then he grinned and wrapped his arms
around her waist, rolling to get on top -- for a moment, at least -- nipping at
her neck in turn and then kissing a line across her throat.

**Jen:**

 "Hm, sounds hot," she murmured and closed her
eyes. Her fingers were in his hair again. Thought about slipping them down his
back and under his shirt.

**Izzy:**

 "Is that a joke? Dreadful, if so." He nipped the
other side of her neck in the same spot, then moved up to her jawline, slowly
tracing it with his lips, as well.

**Jen:**

 She twitched, because his lips found the ticklish spot, and
dug her nails into the back of his neck in return. Not very hard, just a prick.

"I got more where that came from. It's one of my many
talents."

**Izzy:**

 He paused a moment to grin to himself when she twitched. Ah,
he would have to remember that. Was she ticklish anywhere else, he wondered? He
may have to investigate further. Later, though. Why ruin the moment?

"Is it, now?" He kept kissing along her jaw,
pausing when he reached her chin to shift up and tease her with a light, gentle
kiss to the corner of her lips. "Tell me more about these talents."

**Jen:**

 "Y'know, I'm very good at taking hostages." She
wrapped her legs around him and squeezed a bit. "There's this guy, witty
and very handsome. I made him bruise and bleed and fall off a building, but he
can't seem to get away from me."

**Izzy:**

 "Ooh." He just couldn't stop grinning like some
kind of idiot. "Now tell me more about how witty and handsome he is."

**Jen:**

 "So witty, he could sweet talk a wall and so handsome,
he'd probably starve before the mirror if he had a reflection."

**Izzy:**

 Azriel fucking giggled, then quickly bit his lip and assumed
a more serious expression. Mask, how did she do that to him?

**Jen:**

 Oh, that was a fucking great reaction. Look at him trying to
be all calm and collected.

"I got another
talent," she said, wriggling under him with anticipation and delight.

**Izzy:**

 Yes, much better. That was the sort of talent he could
handle. He dropped his hand to her hips. "Oh, do tell, love."

**Jen:**

 She licked her lips, holding still for a moment. Then bucked
her hips up to make him looe balance, and with an arm around his neck rolled
them both over to come up on top of him.

Larkin grinned down at him, triumphant, and wriggled around
some more.(edited)

**Izzy:**

 "Well, joke's on you," he said. "I rather
prefer the view from the bottom."

**Jen:**

 "No joke on me. I also love this view."

**Izzy:**

 "Hm. Must be why I can't seem to stay away from
you." He pulled her down by her collar to kiss her, sweet and slow, and
murmured, "An excellent fit."

**Jen:**

 She closed her eyes and leaned into it. Felt like melting
down into him, and it was fucking amazing. Was that what you got when you
stayed after the fucking? Maybe she should've tried this years ago.

Or not, because now she got to experience it with Azriel for
the first time Thinking about the guys she'd taken into and kicked out of her
bed before, with none of them would she have wanted to do what she couldn't
stop doing with him. Felt so easy and so comfortable to let her guard down. Larkin
never let her guard down with a hookup.

**Izzy:**

 Terribly pleasing, the way she let him pull her down, leaned
into it. Azriel was used to being in control -- even when it meant
purposefully, knowingly surrendering control in order to get what he ultimate
wanted. But this -- this was different. He couldn't twist Larkin around, the
way he always had people before, but he still seemed to end up getting what he
wanted.

And he no longer had the sense that she was in control of
him, either, or that she was merely letting him win, from time to time, to
pacify him. He had sat on the hearth, completely powerless, and flat-out told
her she could do whatever she wanted with him and he wouldn't hold it against
her -- and she had walked away, and then come back and stayed with him,
protected him. She'd given him her name. She'd let her guard down.

It should have been troubling to know that he wasn't in
control of this, and nor was she -- that no one was driving this coach. But he
fucking liked it, somehow. He really fucking liked the playing, the teasing,
the back-and-forth, the subtle shift of power.

"Well," he said softly, after a moment. "I
don't know about you, but I'd very much like to earn that cocoa."

[end]

Title: Cocoa. Summary: Larkin and Azriel meet up, go on a
crime spree date, bicker a bit, then end the night at Azriel's house.