Who: Ari + NPC What:Getting back that advance(which was foolishly spent on shoes whoops) Where: Warehouse District When: Tonight Rating: PG-ish Status: Complete!
The only reason Ari was late in completing this task was, honestly, her recent lack of enthusiasm. It wasn't as though it was difficult to trail a viscount playing commoner, especially when he was far too self-involved for any form of public transportation. His fancy chocobo wasn't hard to spot, and a hovercab wasn't that expensive.
She'd left the cab idling at the edge of the warehouse district when the man had entered a dilapidated, nearly windowless building, chocobo and all. Stacked crates in an alleyway gave her access to a narrow, dirty second-floor window, which opened after some struggle to admit her onto a similarly narrow walkway running the perimeter of the interior. Moving as quietly as she could, Ari approached the railing, kneeling to look down.
The chocobo had been left in a corner, and the man was in heated discussion with -- oho -- some questionably dressed individuals. Ari watched as gil changed hands and delivery of goods of dubious origin was contracted. Dipping his toes into smuggling, it appeared; the corsair had fleeced him dreadfully, by her estimation, but that was his problem for attempting such a venture uninformed. With equally quiet steps, she went back out the window, then settled in behind the crates to wait, considering her options. In a stroke of brilliant luck, the shady characters left first, leaving Ari with a prime opportunity she did not intend to waste.
Like her mood, her luck was up.
If Viscount Pierce had been hiding a lover (or even a fondness for the gem houses), the bard would have been compelled to tell Vivi, and by proxy his wife, everything. As the matter stood, however -- with the gentleman in question being in the same sort of business as she, loosely speaking -- she thought she might offer him a chance to smooth things over. In her experience, noblewomen rarely cared how their husbands spent their money so long as their trousers stayed on.
The potentials for monetary reward for her were, of course, adequate reason to attempt it all on their own.
And so, when he emerged at last with his chocobo, she had the bird asleep on its feet in moments as she slunk from the shadows, smile on face and dagger in hand. That she was not particularly skilled with it wouldn't matter; she could pretend to the stance of a seasoned street fighter well enough thanks to stagecraft, and his sort wouldn't know the difference. "So," she said without preamble, pitching her voice low and a bit husky, "a curious sort you are, my lord. Expanding your respectable tea trade into other... herbal areas, are you?" She walked right up to the bird, stroked the feathers on its neck as if to show she was not worried he would bolt; the bird was far too valuable to leave, and, without spurs or some manner of weapon, difficult to wake.
"Who the hell are you?" He tried for imperial, got wary. Her smile didn't falter.
"Now, why on earth would I tell you that?" she said. Bare-faced and simply dressed, she was utterly forgettable in the darkness. He'd never recognize her if she kept her back to the single wavery streetlight. "Instead, why don't you tell me, sir: how would your father-in-law react to know you are using his daughter's dowry to fund such a distasteful venture?"
The wariness was now just this side of full-blown panic. "What do you want, bitch?"
"Why, to help you, of course. Your wife is having you watched, you know. Sooner or later, someone will carry tales unless you learn to cover your tracks." She examined the edge of her dagger, smiled knowingly at him. A man like this always carried money, and a woman like her always looked favorably upon unexpected opportunities.
Fortunately, this wouldn't take long. She had a date this evening, after all.