08-31-2023, 07:18 PM
Mik grinned as she tried to drink the rest of her shake, cheeks hollowing out. His right eyebrow raised slightly in contemplation. Promising. She brushed off his question about her monster hunting. No biggie. He only told the truth when he felt like it. And everyone had secrets. Though come to think of it...damn, but he was pretty open about a lot of shit. Didn't really try to hide anything about himself. It wasn't something he really gave much thought to. Truth was, he really didn't care what people thought. Like everything else in life, approval came and went. He had better things to do then pretend.
But if she had secrets, whatever. He'd figure it out eventually. Not by prying. Just listening and talking usually let people's guard down. Few caught on what he was doing. Ok, so maybe that was kinda secretive. But who cared. Information was his business. Couldn't tell everyone he was listening to them, observing, figuring out what might be useful. In any case, finding her uncle was the only thing she seemed to care about. But she looked like maybe she was at the end of her rope. In the tunnels- when she was wearing them- her clothes looked ok, if dirty and thin. But when he had thrown them into his washer/dryer, he could see they were threadbare in many places where there weren't actual holes. Her shoes looked like they were on their last legs too.
The mess of wrappers and food paper was all that remained of a pretty big meal for such a small girl. In all honesty, she wasn't that much different from the few street kids he worked with. Probably was a street person. What went up sometimes went down, after all. Being who he was, he couldn't always go to a specific place without being noticed. And he was also only one guy. Street kids were invisible, for the most part. Most had wallets and regular haunts- specific parks or buildings or places to sleep or get food- so it was easy to touch base with them. And he was good to those that did stuff for him.
The way she paid attention said that she was interested in what he did. Maybe just as a way to get off the street. Probably. But the way she fought- to say nothing of being unfazed by that thing in the tunnels- said she wasn't ordinary. I mean, he had the Lady's luck on him, her power at his disposal. So of course he hadn't been too worried. He couldn't help the slight smile as he seized the power again while his eyes went to his lighter on the kitchen counter. Yeah, things had changed.
And now he could smell her. Not stink or nothing. His shampoo and body wash. Weird that he couldn't smell it on himself. The sweats were baggy on her. Not that they swallowed her up or anything- but she definitely seemed smaller sitting there. The memory of her fist on his ass cheek- not like that, he laughed to himself- reminded him that she was strong and packed a punch. And there was her smelling thing. The violence meter. Yeah, she was definitely different.
So...what to do...cuz she then asked outright if he needed help. He tilted his head slightly, studying her. Interesting. She could be useful. I mean yeah, he could pay her to be like his other eyes and ears. He leaned back, putting both feet on the table. "I do have some people who help me out. I can't be everywhere at once. Mostly street kids- well, teenagers or adults anyway. They do alright by me if they give me something useful. Do a job for me."
He pursed his lips. The rest of his vanilla shake was on the table. He'd only finished half of it and it definitely had more than a splash of bourbon. He leaned over and handed it across the table to her- "Here ya go. A bit strong, but all that I have left at the moment."- and then sat back, thinking. She wasn't afraid to fight whatever that thing was. Probably was connected to Tenzin. He'd heard about the Atharim in the news. Seemed like one of the other bogeymen that sometimes were talked about in the news. He'd thought maybe they were a cover for the new police force- Domovoi was the name he'd gotten- that had been formed. Plausible deniability and alla that. But maybe there really was some truth to it. Be nice to have someone like that close to him. She'd drop her guard and let things slip, he knew. And that thing with violence smells. Now that could be useful. Knowing who was violent- better yet, if he understood her correctly- who had recently done violence...well, that cold be very helpful.
"I think I could use you. I can't be everywhere at once. You don't scare easily. You can fight. And you have that special schnoz" He smiled. "No. Don't be embarrassed. It's a cute nose." He looked her up and down. I mean yeah, he'd already known she was cute. He didn't have a hard time seeing past dirty faces and clothes. And she cleaned up good. Dolled up, she'd do real well. "How about 'Striking Sweden'? You've got the look of the north anyway. Mooks wouldn't mind you hanging around. Especially if they think there's something in it for them." He remembered how uncomfortable she'd looked when he'd offered her the robe. "Not that you'd have to do anything like that. Flirt would be about the most of it. Snarky works as well. Some guys like the chase."
Another moment. "Yeah. Ok. I've got a friend who probably could get you work at the Nebesa Gate Casino. Sometimes the Kolomovs and Mordvinovs met there. Other too. Pay is good. Clientele is not rough. The Yakuza have been expanding their territory. The Triads are probably a bit pissed at that since they've been here longer. And the Russian's are probably working at holding on to what they have. Be good to know who's meeting who. It's a start."
He nodded. He didn't have partners- beyond those brief sexual flings- nor was he looking for one. But having someone dependable who could move into places pretty easily..."Yeah, that works for me. If you do well with that...who knows where you might be needed. Can you pretend? Dress up? Do the hair? Sexy outfits?" He smiled slyly at the idea.
That was about the end of it. Skittish as she was, he wasn't gonna imply that there was a cost to his helping her. Paying was dumb anyway. And in fact, he really wasn't helping her. Like I said, he used street kids all the time. It wasn't doing favors. It was business. "You can stay here tonight. Take the couch. It's comfortable enough. I've slept on it more times than I can remember. I can get you situated tomorrow- place to stay, that job. A bit of training. Some clothes. If you're gonna work there, you gotta look the part."
He looked at the nearly empty shake he had pushed over and then remembered. "Oh yeah. I got Kahlúa," He did a mental inventory of his kitchen. "Latte Martini? Mudslide?" He smiled innocently. "White Russian?" He went on.. "I know a few drinking games that might pass the time. Sevens is good. James Bond. That requires watching a movie." He shrugged. "Or whatever. TV. Sleep." He really didn't have company, aside from playing. These were thing he did at bars or at someone's house or some over meetup or munch.
What did people do when they weren't hooking up or working?
But if she had secrets, whatever. He'd figure it out eventually. Not by prying. Just listening and talking usually let people's guard down. Few caught on what he was doing. Ok, so maybe that was kinda secretive. But who cared. Information was his business. Couldn't tell everyone he was listening to them, observing, figuring out what might be useful. In any case, finding her uncle was the only thing she seemed to care about. But she looked like maybe she was at the end of her rope. In the tunnels- when she was wearing them- her clothes looked ok, if dirty and thin. But when he had thrown them into his washer/dryer, he could see they were threadbare in many places where there weren't actual holes. Her shoes looked like they were on their last legs too.
The mess of wrappers and food paper was all that remained of a pretty big meal for such a small girl. In all honesty, she wasn't that much different from the few street kids he worked with. Probably was a street person. What went up sometimes went down, after all. Being who he was, he couldn't always go to a specific place without being noticed. And he was also only one guy. Street kids were invisible, for the most part. Most had wallets and regular haunts- specific parks or buildings or places to sleep or get food- so it was easy to touch base with them. And he was good to those that did stuff for him.
The way she paid attention said that she was interested in what he did. Maybe just as a way to get off the street. Probably. But the way she fought- to say nothing of being unfazed by that thing in the tunnels- said she wasn't ordinary. I mean, he had the Lady's luck on him, her power at his disposal. So of course he hadn't been too worried. He couldn't help the slight smile as he seized the power again while his eyes went to his lighter on the kitchen counter. Yeah, things had changed.
And now he could smell her. Not stink or nothing. His shampoo and body wash. Weird that he couldn't smell it on himself. The sweats were baggy on her. Not that they swallowed her up or anything- but she definitely seemed smaller sitting there. The memory of her fist on his ass cheek- not like that, he laughed to himself- reminded him that she was strong and packed a punch. And there was her smelling thing. The violence meter. Yeah, she was definitely different.
So...what to do...cuz she then asked outright if he needed help. He tilted his head slightly, studying her. Interesting. She could be useful. I mean yeah, he could pay her to be like his other eyes and ears. He leaned back, putting both feet on the table. "I do have some people who help me out. I can't be everywhere at once. Mostly street kids- well, teenagers or adults anyway. They do alright by me if they give me something useful. Do a job for me."
He pursed his lips. The rest of his vanilla shake was on the table. He'd only finished half of it and it definitely had more than a splash of bourbon. He leaned over and handed it across the table to her- "Here ya go. A bit strong, but all that I have left at the moment."- and then sat back, thinking. She wasn't afraid to fight whatever that thing was. Probably was connected to Tenzin. He'd heard about the Atharim in the news. Seemed like one of the other bogeymen that sometimes were talked about in the news. He'd thought maybe they were a cover for the new police force- Domovoi was the name he'd gotten- that had been formed. Plausible deniability and alla that. But maybe there really was some truth to it. Be nice to have someone like that close to him. She'd drop her guard and let things slip, he knew. And that thing with violence smells. Now that could be useful. Knowing who was violent- better yet, if he understood her correctly- who had recently done violence...well, that cold be very helpful.
"I think I could use you. I can't be everywhere at once. You don't scare easily. You can fight. And you have that special schnoz" He smiled. "No. Don't be embarrassed. It's a cute nose." He looked her up and down. I mean yeah, he'd already known she was cute. He didn't have a hard time seeing past dirty faces and clothes. And she cleaned up good. Dolled up, she'd do real well. "How about 'Striking Sweden'? You've got the look of the north anyway. Mooks wouldn't mind you hanging around. Especially if they think there's something in it for them." He remembered how uncomfortable she'd looked when he'd offered her the robe. "Not that you'd have to do anything like that. Flirt would be about the most of it. Snarky works as well. Some guys like the chase."
Another moment. "Yeah. Ok. I've got a friend who probably could get you work at the Nebesa Gate Casino. Sometimes the Kolomovs and Mordvinovs met there. Other too. Pay is good. Clientele is not rough. The Yakuza have been expanding their territory. The Triads are probably a bit pissed at that since they've been here longer. And the Russian's are probably working at holding on to what they have. Be good to know who's meeting who. It's a start."
He nodded. He didn't have partners- beyond those brief sexual flings- nor was he looking for one. But having someone dependable who could move into places pretty easily..."Yeah, that works for me. If you do well with that...who knows where you might be needed. Can you pretend? Dress up? Do the hair? Sexy outfits?" He smiled slyly at the idea.
That was about the end of it. Skittish as she was, he wasn't gonna imply that there was a cost to his helping her. Paying was dumb anyway. And in fact, he really wasn't helping her. Like I said, he used street kids all the time. It wasn't doing favors. It was business. "You can stay here tonight. Take the couch. It's comfortable enough. I've slept on it more times than I can remember. I can get you situated tomorrow- place to stay, that job. A bit of training. Some clothes. If you're gonna work there, you gotta look the part."
He looked at the nearly empty shake he had pushed over and then remembered. "Oh yeah. I got Kahlúa," He did a mental inventory of his kitchen. "Latte Martini? Mudslide?" He smiled innocently. "White Russian?" He went on.. "I know a few drinking games that might pass the time. Sevens is good. James Bond. That requires watching a movie." He shrugged. "Or whatever. TV. Sleep." He really didn't have company, aside from playing. These were thing he did at bars or at someone's house or some over meetup or munch.
What did people do when they weren't hooking up or working?
"Good and ill.
We're like the wind,
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods