TRP: Finch and Larkin (Flock)

**Jen:**

 [Setting: Day 208, Finch's bunker.]

Larkin followed the crow through the streets, straining to
catch even the slightest hint of pursuit. Nothing, though, which was at the
same time reassuring and conspicuous.

The crow fluttered around a corner, and Larkin followed-
then stopped at the sight of the open cellar door. This must be the place but
why the fuck would Finch leave a door open? If anything, Larkin had suspected
he'd become more paranoid, not less.

She readied her crossbow and snuck closer, the weapon half
raised, to take a peek in.

**Izzy:**

 The bunker was empty now, with just scuff marks left on the
floor where things had been moved around, and char marks on the walls where
Finch had misfired lightning bolts. Fucking jumping at shadows, usually. It'd
been safe here, though. It was the only place he could think of to come back
to.

He leaned against the back wall, still facing the door, but
he was fucking out of magic and that little shit had slashed his crossbow's
cable. Still had a couple knives. Still had the javelin Jonn'd given him, but
its magic was spent, too, and he wasn't any fucking good with a regular javelin.
He held it across his lap anyway. It'd be something.

A couple of empty healing potions -- those weird ones Jonn's
dad made, the bottles without labels -- were scattered around him, but they
hadn't stopped all of the bleeding. Not a fucking lot of it, actually. Amren's
claws and teeth had fucked him up pretty bad, but he was alive, at least. Just
didn't have a plan on what to do next. Hadn't had a fucking plan when he'd gone
to the warehouse, either, just ... Well, this was what not having a fucking
plan got you.

He hissed air through his teeth and leaned his head back,
closing his eyes for a moment. Just -- just for a moment.

**Jen:**

 "Finch!" Larkin almost dropped the crossbow at the
sight of him. All fucked up, bleeding, sitting here fucking asleep in an open
cellar. Asleep or-

 She rushed down the stairs,
not really knowing what she'd do when she got to him, but something, something.

**Izzy:**

 He jerked a bit more upright, fumbling with the javelin,
calling up lightning around his other hand. Right. Lark. Right. He'd told her
she could meet him here, it'd just kind of slipped his mind. That was a plan,
sort of, except it had too many fucking variables because he didn't know what
the hell she wanted or what she was going to do. Just made him tense.

He found himself wishing Jonn were here just because he knew
that little bastard was on his side. He'd done a great fucking job of making
sure Larkin wouldn't be.

He kept the lightning crackling around his hand, holding it
up. It shook a little, though. Real fucking intimidating, he was, bleeding out
in a basement.

**Jen:**

 The energy cracked to life in Finch's hand and Larkin
stopped where she was. "It's me," she said, holding one hand up. The
crossbow in her other was still down but her hand was tense, ready to jerk up
and pull the trigger.

Fuck, though. What if she'd just stepped into a trap?

**Izzy:**

 He swallowed. "Yeah, I can fucking see that." His
voice came out weaker than he'd fucking like. Yeah, real goddamn intimidating.
She looked wary, though. Fair. Fucking fair. He made himself drop the spell,
and dropped his hand. "What'd you fucking want?" he asked, leaning
his head back again.

**Jen:**

 Larkin's stomach sank. Somehow, after their last meeting,
she assumed that... what, they were friends again? Well, fuck no. But not-
hostile like this. Like he had the right to be, but she'd assumed he wasn't,
because... because then Larkin didn't have that tiny straw to hold onto either.

She slowly set down the crossbow and lowered her hands.
"Talk. Can I close the door?"

**Izzy:**

 He waved a hand at the door, pulling it shut with magic, and
when that plunged the bunker into complete fucking darkness he snapped his
fingers to summon up some little lights. Fucking cantrips. Amazing things.

That made him feel a bit better. Wished he had enough juice
left to set an alarm, but he didn't. He pushed himself upright a bit more,
looking at her. Looked like shit.

Fuck.

"Been to the warehouse?"

**Jen:**

 "Yeah." She sat down in place and took up the
crossbow to unload it. "You, too, I heard. You look like shit."

**Izzy:**

 For a second he forgot that they were supposed to be fucking
angry at each other, and said, "That's just what my face looks like,
Lark."

**Jen:**

 That made her crack a smile and she almost fell in with the
banter. God, how much she wanted it. Wasn't the right time, though. And he did
really look fucked up. "You need a fucking healer, or... shit." She
patted her pockets. None of Hansel's healing concoctions left. But that didn't
mean she couldn't do anything to stop some of the bleeding.

"Here." She threw off her coat and pulled her
shirt over her head. "Let's get you patched up some."

**Izzy:**

 He scowled and closed his eyes. "Fuck off. I don't need
your fucking pity. I'm ..." He kicked at one of the empty potion bottles.
"Fine." And if he did bleed out, that would kind of solve the problem
of what to do next.

**Jen:**

 Larkin halted with the shirt in her hands. "Fucking
fine, bleed to death then." She said and started wriggling back into it.

**Izzy:**

 Goddammit. Well, that had fucking worked, then. Good plan.
He kicked the other bottle away, sulking.

**Jen:**

 "So what the fuck happened?"

**Izzy:**

 He shrugged, still looking away. "I heard the Sanguines
were making their final move against the Basha. That fucking ... Bala ...
person ... thing -- that bitch was gonna break the kobold fucker out. Goddamn
Shrewd turned on --." He almost said us. "Turned on Renar. I would've
sent Jonn but he's off doing some dumb shit somewhere else, so." He waved
it off. "When I got there she was just fucking -- wiping the goddamn floor
with them. I didn't want -- look, fucking whatever, while she was busy I got to
the office and distracted Amren. Little shit hates me. It gave your uncle and
Bretta a minute to get away."

**Jen:**

 "Fuck." Larkin sat open mouthed. Fucking Shrewd.
There was a guy deserved a hanging if she'd ever known one. "Why'd you
go... I mean... fuck." She shook her head. "Thanks for that, man.
When I got there I thought... fucking thought they were all dead. Bretta,
she...they didn't let me in. Said I wasn't family anymore."

**Izzy:**

 "The fuck is that all about?" He was more insulted
on her behalf than he should have been. "That's bullshit."

**Jen:**

 She scoffed. "Someone had it out for a friend
kindnapped Pa. They thought... well, Bretta fuckin' told me it was my fault and
I wasn't family anymore. Acted real fucking high n' mighty about it, and when I
went to the warehouse to. y'know, talk to Renar, fucking Shrewd wouldn't let me
in." She picked at a stone stuck in the sole of her boot. "We got him
back. Pa, I mean, but... was too late."

**Izzy:**

 "Fucking Shrewd," he muttered. He watched her for
a second out of the corner of his eyes, thinking, then quietly said, "Glad
you got your dad back."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah. It's just...everything else. Gone." She
looked him up and down again. Looked really bad off. She wondered whether
Dragonborn scratches were prone to festering. With Finch's luck...

**Izzy:**

 He scowled a bit. He wished he could fucking gloat, or
something. Yeah, Basha, fucking terrible to lose everything, isn't it? Have
people you trust turn on you, leave you for dead.

Just fucking felt bad for her, though.

"You've got that fucking guild, right? Got your new
partner. He's not Renar's." He leaned his head back again, still not
looking at her properly. "You'll be fuckin' fine, Lark."

**Jen:**

 She gritted her teeth. Him of all to say that... and with
her nickname, too. She could hear the rebuke in that. Don't fucking whine, look
what all you got, and how little I do.She
shook it off.

 "Why'd you do
that, anyway?" She asked with a wave at him. She wasn't here for sentimentaly,
but for information.

**Izzy:**

 He hissed out a breath and uncomfortably pulled his knees up
to his chest, a bit, crossing his arms over himself. If he just said something
like, do what? or fuck you, that's why, she'd probably get frustrated and leave.
Let him fucking wallow by himself. Eventually Jonn would find him, and he
probably wouldn't be dead by then, and then ... something. Then he didn't
fucking know what.

"I don't fucking know," he grumbled after a
moment. Lying. "I didn't think it through." That part was the goddamn
truth, though.

**Jen:**

 "You? You didn't think it through?"

**Izzy:**

 "Fuck off," he muttered.

**Jen:**

 "So you what, heard that shit was going down and
thought you'd safe your old friend Renar? C'mon, Finch."

**Izzy:**

 He grit his teeth. "Look, fuck you. Yeah. I didn't have
any fucking problem with taking out the cartel heads, but Renar -- he's a
fucking bastard, he's a piece of shit as far as I'm concerned, but he's your
fucking family, all right? I never wanted him fucking dead, but shit happened
too fast and then Bala was going off to fucking take care of him, and I didn't
have time to ..." He closed his eyes and banged the back of his head
against the wall. "Fuck off."

**Jen:**

 "Oh." That shut her up because it was not... at
all what she'd expected. Larkin hung her head and sat silent for a minute,
before quietly saying, "Didn't think you cared."

**Izzy:**

 "Yeah," he said. "Well."

**Jen:**

 Larkin didn't know what to say. Didn't even know how to feel
about that, because she'd assumend Finch's opinion of her was somewhere below
dead fish but here he sat, telling her he cared about her enough to go safe her
family; and Renar of all.

So she sat and kept picking at the stone in her boot until
she couldn't take the silence anymore. "You gotta let me patch you
up," she told him, eyesfixed
somewhere on the wall behind him.

**Izzy:**

 He scoffed. Did fucking hurt, though. Little bastard had
gotten him in the face, like he needed any more fucking help with that, and
down his ribs, and in his thigh, too. Limped his damn way down here and now
getting back up the stairs sounded fucking impossible.

"You any fucking better at it than you used to
be?" he asked. "Hanging out with a cleric and all."

**Jen:**

 "I learned a trick or two." She took off her shirt
again and began cutting it into long strips "Where'd he get you?"

**Izzy:**

 He gestured to all of himself. "This part."

**Jen:**

 "Hilarious," she deadpanned. When she was done
with the shirt she took the length of rope coiled on her belt and cut it, too,
to get thinner threads off it. "Strip," she said, nodding to Finch.
There'd probably be more to do than he let on.

**Izzy:**

 He gave her a suspicious look, because he was a suspicious
bastard. No magic left, but he still had his cantrips. She could fucking beat
him if it came down to knives, anyway. And she could have just shot him from
the other side of the room, if that was what she planned to do.

So he grumbled to himself and shifted, wincing as he crossed
his legs under him, and dragged his shirt off one-handed, over his head. The
blood had dried enough to get tacky, sticking the fabric to him and making him
hiss a bit as it pulled away.

**Jen:**

 Larkin shuffled closer to get a better look. She grimaced at
the sight. Looked like he'd been attacked by a feral animal- which he kind of
had, in a sense. It was too dark to properly see, though. She'd need Finch to
call the lights closer while she worked. And then there was all the clotting
blood.

"You got any booze here?" She'd need something to
clean the wounds. Water would be best but vodka would also do. Didn't want to
go outside to get water from a well, though.

**Izzy:**

 He waved to the complete fucking lack of anything in the
bunker. "Not any goddamn more. Fuck, wait." He fumbled for his flask
and shook it. "Nope. Fucking empty."

**Jen:**

 "Be right back." She took the flask from him,
snatched up the empty potion bottles, too, and left for the nearest well.

Larkin found a water pump only a street crossing away,
filled the bottles, then returned to the bunker a different route than she'd
come. No one seemed particularly interested in her comings and goings but
still- had to make sure. Finch had painted a big, red target on his back and
Larkin herself had always had one, too. No sense in leading stray Sanguines to
where they both could be conveniently slaughtered.

Back at the bunker Larkin knocked before entering, in the
pattern they used to use for signalling they were completely alone.

**Izzy:**

 Finch nodded. Maybe she'd bring back some booze. Probably
just fucking water, but god, he wanted a fucking drink. He scrubbed a hand over
his face while she was gone, hissing when he accidentally bumped a scratch.
That one wasn't so deep, at least. Little fuck hadn't been able to reach his
face too well.

The one on his thigh, though, just above the knee -- that
one was fucking bad. He grimaced at it, drawing his mage lights closer and
pulling his knife out of his belt to saw at his pants, hacking the cloth away
from the scrapes so he could get a better look. Looked fucking awful. Big surprise.

He was cold. The bunker was just ... cold. That was normal.
It wasn't anything to do with the puddle of blood he was sitting in.

He leaned his head back again and waited, starting at the
knock on the door, hand tensing around the hilt of his knife, but the he
recognized the pattern. Mask. Fuck. It'd been a long time since he'd heard
that. Weirdly fucking comforting.

Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like, if he
hadn't fucked off. If Larkin would've -- helped him. And if she felt guilty.
And if she gave a shit.

Probably just because she assumed he had valuable
information, and he could keep his cover with the Sanguines. That was the only
reason this was happening now. Shit, he didn't know if that was better or
worse.

He pulled the door open with a mage hand, keeping his knife
ready, just -- just in case she had someone with her -- but she didn't. Like
she'd signalled. Only Lark. Safe. Made him fucking uneasy.

**Jen:**

 Finch had already began laying the wounds bare, which was
good, but now in the mage lights they looked even worsen than expected, which
was, naturally, fucking bad.

Larkin closed the door behind her and set the bottles out
next to him. "No one's followed me," she let him know. "We're
good."

**Izzy:**

 He nodded. Larkin wasn't really that great of a liar. He was
even fucking worse, but he was good at spotting them and reading people, and
the fact that she seemed like she was just fucking being genuine made him
shift.

Finch had fucked up a lot of things in his life. That was
how he'd gotten here. He knew he was fucking smart and good at what he did, but
he was a fucking idiot and drunk about half the time, too, and jumpy, and he
made serious fucking mistakes when he didn't plan ahead.

He hadn't had a plan in letting Larkin come here, either,
though, and maybe that wasn't a mistake.

"Hey. Your uncle, what's he doing? I mean." He
caught himself. "I'm not fucking fishing for information, just trying to
figure out what Wyn's next move is gonna be. Is he going to try to
retaliate?"

**Jen:**

 "No. He's not doing a fucking thing. He... he
fled."

Larkin kept her head down and her eyes on Finch's wounds.
Wasn't too hard because there were cuts fucking everywhere. Shallow,
superficial ones that would heal without scars but also deep gashes that were
still bleeding. She cut away the rest of his pant leg, then wet the fabric and
begann dabbing the cuts clean.

**Izzy:**

 Finch was quiet for a moment. "Shit." He ran a
hand through his hair. "Shit, so ..."

So it was fucking over. No more Basha. He'd figured that'd
happen -- or maybe Renar would fight the Sanguines off -- either way, he'd
fucking planned on being out of Skyport by then.

He barely noticed her cleaning the scratches, just twitching
a little, reflexively. He stared absently across the room, thinking.

**Jen:**

 "Yeah. Guess that means they won."

Larkin gave a heavy sigh, then looked up, frowning.
"You got a plan to get out?"

**Izzy:**

 "What -- out of the guild?" He looked puzzled and
distracted. "Yeah, I'm just going to fucking leave. Get out of Skyport. Fuck
the city."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah, man, I fucking figured." She finished
cleaning the wounds on his leg. Next came the bandaging. "This is gonna
hurt," Larkin said quietly, but it was hardly necessary. He'd know. She
bunched up a bit of the pant fabric and pressed it onto the big gash, then
secured it in place with the strips of her shirt, tying them tight.

**Izzy:**

 He hissed through his teeth, wincing, fingernails scraping
at the stone floor as one hand clenched into a fist.

"Fucking Sanguines," he muttered. "I never
--." He scoffed. She didn't have any goddamn reason to believe him,
anyway. "I honestly never thought it would fucking get this far, Lark. I
thought the Basha could take her. I'm sorry."

**Jen:**

 "Yeah." She tied one last knot, perhaps jerking it
tighter than strictly necessary, and sighed. "Me, too." Larkin moved
on to the next gash but halted before touching it, looking Finch in the eye.
"I don't... uh. Blame you, or anything. You had..." She trailed off.
Shook her head and took to cleaning the wound again even though she'd already
done that.

**Izzy:**

 He winced again as she pulled the makeshift bandage tight,
clenching his jaw. God, this was just fucking ... awkward. He shouldn't have
responded to the crow -- should've sent it to Jonn instead. Where the fuck was
that little shit, anyway, when Finch needed him. The deal was that Finch stayed
in the bunker -- the guildhouse, now -- and Jonn went out and did dumb shit for
him.

He wondered if it meant more, though, that he'd fucking done
the dumb shit himself. Or if Larkin didn't blame him, anyway, maybe it didn't
fucking matter. She was supposed to fucking blame him. She was supposed to not
give a shit, and hate him, and he was supposed to hate her for not giving a
shit.

And she'd showed up and started trying to keep him from
bleeding out, instead, and he was fucking apologizing to her and shit.

Finch didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.

**Jen:**

 The silence between them stretched while Larkin worked
(except for the occasional grunt and curse from Finch). She didn't know what to
fill it with anyway. Small talk? God, these times were over. In the past, they
would make cynical jokes to distract each other when they had to do something
painful, or lightly banter.

What would they banter about now? How funny it was that it'd
taken them almost two years and the complete collapse of Renar's empire to get
them into a room alone? How the reason for Finch being in this miserable
fucking state was that he'd saved the life of a man who'd ordered his hands
broken, just so his partner who'd betrayed his trust wouldn't lose an uncle?
Fucking hilarious.

Maybe she should apologize. For... everything. Not that she hadn't,
back then. After she'd gotten him out. Larkin had cried and cursed, explained
and apologized but it hadn't done any fucking good. Finch had made his
decision, and that was to cut her out. Only... he didn't seem to cold now. Not
emotionally, anyway. Under that outer layer of dickish prickliness seemed to be
a little warm spot for her. Or, Larkin realized, at least that was what she
read into it. Him letting her see him vulnerable like that, and calling her
'Lark' all the time.

Maybe... no. She shook it off. That thought lead nowhere and
she should concentrate on not fucking Finch's wounds up more than they already
were. If only she had more supplies.

"He got you good," she muttered with a critical
look at the long gash along his ribs. "We should... damn. You realize this
is gonna fester if we don't do something, right?" She glanced up at his
clammy face, frowning.

**Izzy:**

 "Yeah, he's a little piece of shit," Finch
grumbled. It was easier to bitch about Amren, or complain about the injuries.
That shit was simple. "Fuckin' kobold motherfucker. Your, uh. Cleric
friend." He fucking hated asking her for anything. "Could he fix me
up, or -- I could go to a temple or something, I guess, just don't know where
the fuckin' Sanguines have people, and ..."

**Jen:**

 "Goro? Yeah, he... yeah. He'll fix you if I tell him
to." God, she thought but managed to keep from saying out loud, Finch must
be worse off than it looked, to be willing to trust Goro with healing him.
Larkin looked at him doubtfully. "Just need to get you to him
somehow."

**Izzy:**

 Hehesitated.
Fuckin' Jonn really liked Goro for whatever reason. They could send the crow to
Jonn, have him bring Goro here -- that way they'd be fifty-fifty, and Finch
wouldn't be outnumbered. Fucking didn't want anyone else at the bunker, though,
even if it wasn't his safehouse anymore. Bad enough having Larkin here, and
that was fucking Larkin.

(Like that fucking mattered.)

He just didn't think it'd be a great idea to go to a guild
healer looking like a stunted lunatic dragonborn had scraped him up. He already
didn't know how he was going to fucking deal with that -- Amren definitely knew
who he fucking was. It was a shitty plan, but he was going with claiming that
Amren was just fucking crazy, and he'd never been at the warehouse -- Bala
hadn't seen him, he was sure of that -- and he'd use Jonn as an alibi, and as long
as he hadn't clearly been in a fight with something that had claws ...

Yeah, it was a shitty plan. Really fucking bad. Too many
holes. Fuck. He leaned his head back against the wall again. "I can
fucking walk." Kind of. He shook his head. "Nah. I'll just go to a
fucking temple. There's one not far off." He'd go by himself. That way she
wasn't helping him. Yeah, that was better.

**Jen:**

 Yeah, that was more like what she'd expected. Larkin rolled
her eyes, about to give a snarky remark, but then remembered they weren't that
kind of partners anymore. Wasn't her place. She shrugged. "Don't let
anyone see you, though."

**Izzy:**

 He scoffed. "Yeah, I'm not fucking stupid." It'd
make things easier if they'd found a turncoat healer in the guild that he could
trust, but there weren't a lot of Sanguine healers. There was an undercover
Maskarran cleric at the temple a couple blocks away, though, Maybe she'd keep
her mouth shut. Or maybe she was already red. Who fucking knew.

Fuck, he had to stand up now, though. He tried to brace
himself against the wall and push up, but it fucking hurt, and he let himself
slide back down the couple inches he'd made it and scowled.

**Jen:**

 Larkin watched, then stood up and offered Finch a hand.
Didn't say anything.

**Izzy:**

 He glared at the floor for a moment, then took it, and
pushed up again, letting her help. Got him to his feet and he let go to slump
against the wall, wobbling in place a bit. Just a couple blocks. He'd make it.
(And then the cleric would turn him in, sell him out ...)

It'd be really fucking satisfying to tell her that this
didn't make up for her fucking abandoning him. That would fucking hurt her, he
bet. The way she was acting now, talking about not blaming him and shit, kind
of -- all right, not 'kind of,' but literally fucking helping him out.

He sighed through his teeth and muttered,
"Thanks."

**Jen:**

 Larkin glanced him over. Didn't look like he'd even make it
out the door, and even then... the Sanguines were everywhere now. With his luck,
and all things considered, it would be a minor miracle if they didn't catch him
on the way, if the bloodloss didn't get to him first. Fuck, this wouldn't do.

"You won't make it," she said, quietly. "Let
me... I'll go get Goro. Alright? We're gonna fix you., and then you can... fuck
off or whatever."

**Izzy:**

 Finch kept scowling. "I'll fucking make it. Made it
every other fucking time by myself, didn't I?"

Oh, fuck. He hadn't even meant for that one to come out like
that.

**Jen:**

 Right. He was right. She looked away and nodded. Didn't want
to let him go like that, because hell, look at him, but she could hardly offer
to come with. She'd only be a second target on his back.

**Izzy:**

 Ah, fuck. He bickered with himself for a moment, going
between not fucking wanting any more of her pity, and knowing that there was a
good fucking chance he really wouldn't make it, and kind of fucking wanting her
to help, if he was honest with himself. It didn't have to change anything. They
were fucking ... allies, again. This could be fine.

Reluctantly, he muttered, "You could ... fucking help
me up the stairs. I'll be fine after that."

**Jen:**

 "Okay." No need to question that change of mind.
Larkin was only glad he took her help. Would've felt fucking awful if something
had happened to him.

She came closer again and offered an arm, her other going
around his back to help him keep upright.

**Izzy:**

 She just fucking went for it, too. He didn't have to
convince her. Which was good, probably, because he fucking wouldn't have -- but
of course she fucking did, when she was the one wanting to help him in the
first goddamn place. He just had to ... let her.

Well, that was fucking bullshit.

He did, though. Limping a bit and still wincing, and cold,
leaning partially on his javelin for support, and partially on her. Made getting
up the stairs a lot fucking easier, he'd admit, with the one leg fucked up. It
always hurt a bit, because of the way it'd been healed wrong, and it was all
fucking slashed up, now.

But it felt better because of Larkin. "Hey, are you
..." Ah, shit. "Are you gonna be all right? With your guild, or
fucking whatever -- without Renar. You have a plan?"

**Jen:**

 She gritted her teeth and didn't let on how much that
question pained her, how much she felt lost and ripped out of her life.
Wouldn't do her situation any good and he probably didn't want to hear it
anyway, her whining about having lost her place in the world. Maybe he'd think
it'd served her right, like some kind of late cosmic justice.

"I'll manage," she said as they hobbled up the
stairs. "I'll... dunno. Try and keep the bits 'n pieces together, maybe.
For when he comes back." How she'd do that Larkin had no idea yet but it
was the only thing she could imagine for herself right now. Gather a gang of
the last loyal few, establish a small foothold for themselves. Keep low and
without interest to the Sanguines until they could strike back.

**Izzy:**

 Finch grimaced. "You think he's coming back?" Then
he had another thought. "Does he even fucking know you got your dad or
does he still think you're a fucking traitor, or some shit?"

**Jen:**

 Larkin could only shrug to that. Bretta had said they kept
contact through Lynette but that didn't mean anything. She silently cursed
Finch for planting that thought in her mind... Larkin had always been fucking
loyal to Renar and the thought he could consider her a traitor sat with her
like a thorn.

"He's on his way to Calimport," she said instead.
"He'll probably start over there, but... " another shrug. "Who
knows."

**Izzy:**

 Finch knew it was two weeks to Calimport, by ship, two weeks
back. Even if Renar got there and turned right back around for her, she'd be
alone for a month. Only Basha left in Skyport. It'd probably make her a target
for anyone looking to prove themself or make a name for themself. Some folks
had stayed loyal even with the Sanguines' pressure, or refused to pick sides,
but ...

"You should stay out in Glimmerton," he said
abruptly. "'Til you know. It'd be safer." He tried to think of a way
to make that sound pragmatic, not like he cared about her, and came up blank.
Fucking blood loss, that was all.

**Jen:**

 "Nah." She shook her head. "I got a fucking
bitch to kill is what. Can't do that out of Glimmerton."

**Izzy:**

 "What, fucking Wyn? Lark." He stopped to stare at
her. "How. How the fuck do you see that going down with, what, you and a fuckin'
cleric, and me and Jonn? Yeah, real fucking crack team. Definitely pull off
what the Basha couldn't manage, between the four of us."

**Jen:**

 "We're... well, we're working on it. Let's just
say" Larkin gave him a sideglance, considering, then said, "Didn't
you wanna get out of here?"

**Izzy:**

 "Yeah, yeah." Right. He should stop fucking being
concerned and just go. They'd reached the top of the stairs, up in the alley.
He was used to the illusion magic keeping this area covered, but since he'd
moved out it been dropped. They were all out in the open, now, fucking exposed.
He pulled away from her. "Yeah, I'll just ... get to that temple."

He wondered if he should say I'll be fine. He kept telling
himself she didn't care, but -- fuck.

**Jen:**

 Larkin let go Finch and took a quick sep out of the alley,
looking around for anything conspicuous. Seemed clear, though.

She turned back to Finch, biting her lower lip. Fuck. He'd
probably not accept anyway, but Larkin felt stupid offering, which probably was
because it was a stupid idea, but... it might end bad for him if she didn't.
She cleared her throat, eyes fixed on the wall. "Have you... uhm. Y'know,
if you don't have a place... I got one. Out of Skyport. Roddy's there,
too."

**Izzy:**

 "I'll be fine." It just kind of slipped out. Well,
she was kind of fucking asking. "I'll go back to the guildhouse, once I'm
not all fucking -- shredded up and shit. Keep my cover." He ran a hand
through his hair, twisting a couple locs. "Fuckin' ... Jonn'll cover for
me, and that Amren shit is so fucking unhinged, we'll just say I was never at
the warehouse.

"Hey," he added suddenly. "Hey, that fucking
Bala thing, Larkin, don't fucking mess with -- her, it, whatever. I don't know
about Wyn's whole deal, but don't fuck with Bala."

**Jen:**

 Larkin was shaking her head while he talked. Didn't sound at
all like he had a plan. Sounded a whole fucking lot like desparation, but she
could hardly tell him off for it. They weren't friends anymore.

Then he talked about Bala. She wanted to wave it off, tell
him they could deal with that but there was something in his voice making her
hair stand on end. "Why?" She asked. "What did she do?"

**Izzy:**

 He shook his head. "She's some kinda fucking ..."
He swallowed. "Shapeshifting thing, I don't know, and she's got
teleportation magic -- was just all over the fucking place. And some kind of
white wolf or fox or something, I think it was her, but with the teleporting
--." He grimaced. "I don't fucking know. She's a wizard, I think. A
powerful one. I don't know what else."

**Jen:**

 "Did you... did you seen her use any other magic?"

**Izzy:**

 "Ice shit, and some necromantic shit -- not raising the
dead, just, y'know --." He waved a hand. "Death magic. See, I think
the fox thing was her because I saw it biting people, and the wounds just
fucking festered, straight away, same deal. Necrotic. I don't know what she
fucking is, just fucking dangerous. Had this knife, too, that was a whip
thing."

**Jen:**

 Shit. "Shit." Sounded fucking dangerous ideed. And
to think that'd gone down while she was on the ship and could do anything...
anything to stop it or help. At least Renar and Bretta had gotten out. The
others, though... some of those bodies on the floor back in the warehouse had
been almost strangers, known to her only by their gang tattoos. But some had
been friends. Not close ones but still. Friendly faces she'd drank with, stolen
with, and known for many years. All gone. Killed by two fucking psychos and a
traitor.

Larkin was going to fucking skin them.

**Izzy:**

 "Yeah. Shit." He leaned on the javelin and glanced
away. "Just ... fucking be careful, all right?"

**Jen:**

 Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. Larkin kicked a stone and
muttered, "You, too."

**Izzy:**

 He grumbled. Yeah, well, he'd been fucking trying, hadn't
he? Stepped out of the bunker and immediately got fucked up again. That was
what happened when he fucking went outside. Here he goddamn was, though.

"Yeah." He turned towards the temple -- just a
couple blocks -- and started shambling off. He'd make it, probably.

[END]

Title: Flock. Summary: Larkin tracks down Finch after the
assault on the Basha warehouse, finding him heavily injured after intervening
to save Renar and Bretta's lives. She patches him up and they're very
emotionally awkward at each other.