#greedworn

               she  has  half  a  mind  to  chide  him  for  closing  the  window          —          and  locking  it.  not  that  she's  out  of  practice,  her  targets  had  required  a  few  doors  and  traps  picked  here  and  there,  but  this  particular  lock  had  always  evaded  her.  she  isn't  sure  if  she's  upset  about  it          —          of  course  it  would  be  locked.  without  the  wraith  collecting  secrets  and  making  use  of  the  practical  entrance,  there  is  no  telling  who  else  could  attempt  a  fool's  mission.  and  so  she  quietly  makes  her  way  through  the  slat  and  its  stairs,  every  move  as  familiar  as  muscle  memory.  and  she  doesn't  bother  knocking,  she  tries  to  maintain  some  element  of  surprise  but  it  seems  not  even  time  could  allow  her  such  indulgences.

              ❝  hello,  kaz.  ❞          the  door  closes  behind  her  with  a  click,  and  she  places  her  small  bag  on  the  floor  against  the  wall,  along  with  her  hat.  her  tongue  holds  onto  the  brief  mention  of  disappointment  at  his  lack  of  a  presence  at  the  docks,  but  she  would  admit  to  herself  and  only  herself  that  the  anticipation  finally  meeting  him  at  the  slat  was  saturated  enough.  small  steps  bring  her  closer,  and  she  makes  note  of  the  flowers  on  his  desk,  pulse  briefly  spiking,          ❝  did  you  develop  a  liking  for  these  flowers  or  are  they  meant  for  me  ?  ❞          she's  careful  with  her  words,  her  movements          —          even  as  she  daringly  perches  herself  over  the  edge  of  his  desk,  pads  of  fingers  tracing  the  petals.          ❝  you  were  missed.  ❞          at  the  harbor,    she  leaves  unsaid.  but  she  knows  him.  perhaps  their  reunion  was  better  handled  without  wandering  eyes  and  other  spiders  running  about.

              ❝           it’s  quite  simple  ,      i  have  a  job  for  you  and  your     . . .     crew .           ❞             she  nods  and  walks  closer  to  his  desk ,      the  desk  that  once  belonged  to  someone  else .        someone  older  ,       but  not  wiser  .       ❝          my  sister  has  been  missing  for  weeks ,        find  her  for  me  .      i  pay  well .              ❞

INCOMING MESSAGE.

@greedworn​ said:   [ text ] do NOT touch my food. i repeat, do not touch my food

tell me what vibes i give off based on my blog!

ruby ur SO SWEET I'M

WHAT VIBE DO I GIVE YOU?

YOU KILLED MY FATHER, PREPARE TO DIE.

@greedworn​ said:   “ he’s only mostly dead. ”

     “ THAT’S NOT THE ISSUE at hand here, kaz, ”  jesper leans down, unwilling to touch the groaning, barely - conscious figure lying in a crumpled heap at his feet.  a glance behind him soothes his fears that the staff have woken, that they can hear this conversation — and he makes a conscious choice to speak even quieter.  wylan is still asleep upstairs, and the longer jesper can keep this quiet for his sake, the better.

“ Aye, that’s all well and guid, mate, but if ye dinna let me tend to that gnarly wound, ye won’t live long enough to be annoyed wit me.” Eden replied as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Why must the demon of the Barrel be so damn stubborn. 

“ If ye bleed out and die, whit then?” he asked as he crossed his arms. “ Ah’ve been doin’ whit ah can with keepin’ the blood inside ye but ye need to stop and let me dress the wound, Brekker.” 

He shook his head. “ Are ye so ready to embrace death or are ye gonna listen to reason ye thu amadan?”