Chaos Precip

Remy shifted his hat forward against the afternoon sun and set his boot a little more firmly on his pack. The boating hope simply hadn't panned out. That left him in a bit of a quandary. He could abscond with one of the Guild Space boys, but that might irk his father, and besides, where was the fun in making his trip away from home quick? A boy needed to stretch his legs sometimes.

The boats for the season had dried up though, and that meant walking...or better finding a ride. He was just waiting for the right one. No wagon with children, it wasn't a hunt for youngers he was headed on. No, a nice ride though, something to keep the rain off, and hopefully a driver with a sense of humor and the tendency toward a bit of road kindness. Until that particular ride happened by, well, he was playing the cards over his fingers, keeping his hands limber and his smile on.

It had taken some time, and effort, to find the little town of Wheelsy. It certainly wasn't the kind of town he preferred, and it was a bit far from home, but he had a job to do. Something important had gone missing a while back, and given how slow information could be the Thieves Guild had just learned about the failure of delivery. Remy had been tasked to find the item, and the people responsible for it going astray. Not a big issue, that.

No, the problem lay in the fact that the shipper had since died and another had taken over his boat and business. Given his understanding of the breed Remy was betting the old man hadn't exactly kept detailed records either. That meant finding the new owner of the route and hoping she knew where the previous port of calls had been. From there it'd be a lot of traveling through those ports to find the right one but he tried not to think about the tedious bits.

That was how Remy LaBeau came to be strolling the streets of Wheelsy looking for the girl Jones.

Remy was whistling as he idly shuffled a deck of cards from hand to hand. It had been a good day all told; a good breakfast had led into a wonderful training session which had bled over into an incredibly entertaining errand for his father.

Needless to say the flesh peddlers in the crypts weren't going to be an issue anymore. The thieves guild didn't condone that particular flavor of slavery.

They were more the 'you owe me a favor' type.

Word of the newest example set by Remy (and therefore the Guild) had traveled ahead of him. Those that weren't grinning and tipping their hats at him had sensibly fled the streets. No telling if Remy LeBeau was still in the mood to burn things after all.

Some days, Jones thought she might have been better off staying in the Duty Town and raising a couple dozen kids. Today was shaping up to be one of those days.

She cursed quietly but creatively as she struggled up the on-ramp to what the signs call I-10, pulling a Radio Flyer full of homemade wine along behind. Every time the wagon hit a bump the wine bottles clinked with the threat of breaking, and Jones didn't trust the glasswork worth a damn. The superstitious morons in the 'Dome -- she could think of them as nothing else, despite years between her and the Science-worship of her childhood -- made some of the best wine in the Southeast, but they didn't have the first clue how to store it.

Too bad for Jones, who had to get it all the way back to her boat without running into thieves or spilling the goods all over the place. It had cost her dear -- the entire book of Job, a favorite with the religious groups still holding on in the South -- and she wouldn't see it wasted even if it meant taking all damn day getting back home.

Remy didn't often find himself with a free evening so to speak, being as how most the Thieves Guild were a nocturnal lot, but when he did find himself with time on his hands and no lady to help him spend it, well, he liked to play cards. A nice, friendly game of cards in the dim recesses of one of his favorite 'hole in the wall' bars. It was far enough from the water to avoid most of the 'tourist' trade, and patronized often enough by the Guild to carry a decent alcohol assortment.

They even had music most nights. Tonight there was a smokey, moody jazz band in the only well lit corner. Just the thing for a relaxing evening.

His table was mostly full and they were playing a high stakes game where cigarettes were the main betting tender. The group around the table wasn't even cheating much. Nothing like thieves on hand to keep men honest.