#basso thief

Basso grumbled as he swept up his shop. Stupid guards trashed the place before dragging him away to the Keep. He cursed under his breath as he picked up broken pieces, before hearing a caw.

"Oh shut up, Jenivere you... Oh. Right. Bird's gone." Basso muttered defeatedly. He hadn't realized how much he'd miss the intelligent finger-pecking feathered nuisance of a carrier pigeon. He'd bent over to pick up something that had rolled under the shelf before he heard a familiar thud onto a table behind him.

Of course, it didn't stop him from jumping in his skin and hitting his head on said table. "Jesus, Garrett you... you alright?" Basso paused his irate tangent upon actually laying eyes on Garrett. The usually stoic and aloof thief was curled into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, his face completely obscured, rather than leaning on the doorway, or sitting on the edge of the table, cockier than a rooster like he usually did.

"... I failed, Basso. I've failed everyone that's put anything worth something into me." Garrett spoke hardly above a whisper, just enough so Basso could hear him. It was very, very rare that anyone saw Garrett on his worst days. Basso would see him on not great ones, and they'd talk. But he'd never seen him like this. Basso stood up, leaning on the table next to Garrett.

"I failed Erin. I was supposed to mentor her, teach her. I thought I was doing okay. She's gone now. Because of my mistake. She's dead because of me. I've been failing at my job. The one thing I'm good at. Now I don't even know if my hand'll ever work the same again. I just had to go after that safe." Garrett produced his injured hand, wrapped with bandages; blood was still evident in the centre of his palm as he waved it dismissively before tucking it back under his cloak.

"I failed you. Should have come back with you. Hell, I got you in trouble in the first place. Just being around me seems to be... toxic, nowadays. Even..." Garrett lifted his head finally. His eyes were red, puffy, and brimmed with tears, his usual charcoal around his eyes ran like a noble woman's mascara; he'd been crying for a while. Garrett stared at Jenivere's cage, his tears finally spilling at the reminder of his favourite bird dying in his hands.

Garrett bowed his head again, hiding his face behind his knees, his shoulders softly shaking with what Basso could only assume were silent sobs. He even cries quietly. Basso finally kicked into gear, his shock of seeing Garrett so vulnerable and... almost broken, worn off. He tucked Jenivere's cage behind the desk, before patting Garrett on the back, gentler than usual.

"Garrett, Garrett, Garrett... The best thief in town, the one everyone knows, yet no one ever sees. The man who can break into anywhere and steal anything. My most trusted friend. You have any idea how many bad days people have? How many people are lost per day? You are the cause of a lot of those bad days, for a lot of people, in one night. Now you're worried about it?" Garrett raised his head to look at Basso as he spoke. He wasn't good with this kind of thing, or used to it, but he'd be damned if he couldn't at the very least try for Garrett of all people.

"Buddy, you've never failed me. Every single job I've given you, you've done flawlessly. Every single one. You even busted me out of a collapsing prison in one piece. And Erin? That was her fault, Garrett, not yours. Girl was stubborn to her core, didn't listen to no one. You told her the sky was blue, she'd say it was turquoise. She chose to do what she did, and to not listen to you. Ever. And you never gave up on her! You lost an eye for her, man. Nearly lost your life trying to save her from her mistakes." Garrett glanced around the room, his tears dried as Basso spoke and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently for emphasis on his words.

"Jenivere wasn't your fault, either. And I miss her too, believe it or not. But your best quality has always been your resilience, that stubbornness to never quit and always find a way to make it work. You will find a way out of this, because you have to. If not, this whole place will fall apart, and we'll never make a living. So, take your time. Have your bad day." Basso reached under the counter for a bottle of booze, and poured himself and Garrett a shot each. "Have a drink with me for those we've lost along the way, and I'll see you tomorrow?" Basso raised his shot to Garrett, waiting for his response.