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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:03:27 GMT -6
The shopping district.
One of the better places in this thrice-forsaken city, by Malcolm’s estimates. Yes, there was still an abundance of the accursed beasts that seemed to occupy every corner of this place, but the throngs of them were thinner here. Most of the shops didn’t allow them inside, so at least those were safe havens if he needed them.
And there were opportunities here, if one knew where to look. The heart of a city was always where its trades took place, and this city was no different. Goods, services, information… If you knew where to look and what questions to ask, you could find it, in the end.
In the capital, where he had lived most of his life, it had been easy. Or at least it had been in recent years. Things had been harder when he was young and powerless, but that wasn’t the case anymore.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:04:00 GMT -6
Back home, he could pull a few strings, whisper a few words in the right ears, and have what he wanted with only a little effort. Not always, of course, but then there was never such thing as a sure thing.
But here he was a newcomer, and he had to play his cards cautiously, cultivate his leads and contacts carefully. He didn’t have the means yet to outsource his legwork, and so he spent a lot of his time here, day after day.
Patience was, of course, a virtue. And he hadn’t survived as long as he had without it. Malcolm was making his way to yet another appointment today, blending in with the throngs of shop-goers as he made his way to the prearranged meeting place.
And then, he stopped.
The thief was fast, but Malcolm was faster. His hand shot out to grab the would-be pickpocket before they could make their escape. “Now, now,” he said---
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:04:17 GMT -6
--- and came up short when what he seized wasn’t an errant hand, but a tiny boy. A boy who yelped as he found himself grabbed around the waist. Mal almost let go in shock - almost. But old habits held fast, and so did he. The moment of shock passed, and Malcolm began to process what he was looking at, just as the boy tried once more to struggle free. It was a boy, and not some strange creature… mostly. The ears were an unusual shape, but there had been people in his homeland with pointed ears. The truly strange thing was his size: almost no taller than one of Malcolm’s hands. Something beat against his fingers, and he realized with another start that they were wings. It was sheer luck he hadn’t crushed them when he seized the boy. That he hadn’t crushed any of the boy, really. 3
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:04:27 GMT -6
Having recovered his composure in that moment - never let it be said that he wasn’t adaptable - Malcolm smiled. “Someone has sticky fingers, hmm? Unfortunately for you, you picked a bad target.”
The boy stopped struggling, and had the gall to smile back. Malcolm could tell that the boy was nervous, though he was doing a passable job of hiding it, for a child. “Boy, did I ever! You’re a real quick one, sir!” He laughed, as though they were merely sharing a joke. Mal smiled back, but his eyes narrowed. “Now, if you’d just be so kind as to let me go…”
Malcolm considered his options. The people around them were still passing them by, with only a few glancing their way before moving on. Evidently the sight of the tiny boy wasn’t as startling to them as it had been to him. That might not hold if the boy became alarmed enough to protest in earnest…
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:04:59 GMT -6
… But the boy also had nothing of interest to offer Malcolm, save possibly for information. And the sort of information he could get from a dirty little small-time pickpocket - for the boy really wasn't very clean - wouldn’t be worth the time.
“Work on your technique,” said Malcolm, and let him go. The boy dropped with a yelp, fluttering erratically upward before he hit the ground.
Walking away from him, Malcolm thought the matter closed. But the boy had other ideas. A moment later he was in front of Malcolm yet again, bobbing in the air as he tried to fly backwards. “Oh! Sir! Just a moment, sir! I wanted to apologize--- for not recognizing an expert when I saw one. I knew from the way you walked that you weren’t just any old mark!”
Malcolm stared dispassionately down at the boy. “If you knew, then you shouldn’t have tried it,” he said.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:05:56 GMT -6
Once more he tried to brush past the boy, and once more the boy fluttered around to stay in his sights, spouting a mouthful of nonsense. “I know, I know, I was wrong. I'll admit it! But still! Can’t blame a guy for trying to shoot for the stars, can you? One thief to another?” He blinked hopefully at Malcolm, who simply shook his head slightly, sighed, and walked on. The boy scrambled to keep up with him, flying alongside as Malcolm quickened his pace. “Say, you’re not looking for someone to help you out, are you? I can do lots of things! Carry messages, spying on folks… Maybe my pickpocketing could use a little work, but I’m sure---”
“Look, kid.” Malcolm stopped abruptly, and the boy almost flew past him, angling back with a surprised noise. “I’m not taking in charity cases. End of story. Got it?”
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:06:09 GMT -6
Now there was no smile whatsoever gracing his features, and his voice carried an edge to it to indicate that his patience was wearing thin. The boy, staring at him, faltered slightly, and Malcolm took the opportunity to walk past him once again. This time, the boy didn’t follow. ----- … And yet, somehow, that wasn’t the last that Malcolm saw of the little winged boy. The next time he passed through the shopping district, the boy turned up again. “Fancy meeting you here, sir! Say, I got these sweets, and I was wondering---” “Beat it, kid,” Malcolm said. Now he knew better than to give the boy an opening, and stalked off as quickly as he could. On his next visit, the boy was waiting in front of the pawn shop he was visiting. “Dropping by here, huh?” said the boy, grinning at him. “You’ve got excellent taste, sir!” 7
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:06:20 GMT -6
Malcolm ignored him, though he wondered in passing whether the boy worked for this place, or if he was simply spouting more empty flattery.
On another occasion, the boy offered up information. On a different day, he said he knew all the best hiding spots in the area. Or all the best restaurants, the best dive bars, places where Malcolm could go to get his hands on some real rare treasure. Malcolm ignored him every time, and considered with increasing seriousness about bringing along an electrified fly swatter with him one of these days.
… And then, one day, he caught someone trying to pickpocket him again, ten minutes away from his home.
“You,” he said, when he saw who - or rather, what - he had caught. The boy laughed sheepishly. Malcolm could tell, from the faint tremors he felt through his hand, that the boy was afraid. But still, the boy pushed up a smile.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:06:38 GMT -6
“You did it again, sir! Can’t get past those razor-sharp instincts, can I?”
Once more, Malcolm considered the boy. Irritation pricked at him; by this point the boy had been hassling him for weeks, making a nuisance of himself, and Malcolm’s patience was at its end. He had let the boy go because it hadn’t been worth his time to be cruel, but it would be all too easy to get rid of something so small. He wouldn’t even need a weapon. Just the force of one hand ought to be enough. He could imagine it already, the boy’s tiny, brittle bones crushed in his grip, and cast away like so much crumpled garbage, a little treat for the strays that prowled the neighborhood.
… But… The boy’s technique had improved a little.
Mal’s lips pressed together into a thin line for a moment, and then he spoke. “How long have you been tailing me?”
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:07:11 GMT -6
“Since you passed the bookstore,” the boy replied.
“Prove it.”
“W-Well… You stopped by the florist too. I wasn’t close enough to hear what you said, but the lady seemed to like you. And you took a detour through Avant Vall, even though you live here… To throw people off your tracks? And---”
“No, that’s enough,” Malcolm said curtly. The boy fell silent, swallowing hard. He wasn’t smiling anymore. The look on Malcolm’s face hadn’t improved, but now some of his anger was for himself. Grudgingly, he had to admit that the boy was telling the truth.
Either he was getting sloppy - which was a level of nonsense not even worth contemplating… or the boy really did have some skill with this.
Damn it.
“You said you wanted to work for me,” said Malcolm, with no preamble. “Why?”
“Wh-Why? Why not? Who wouldn’t want to work for---”
“Cut the crap,” Mal said. “Tell me what you want. Or else I rip off your wings and leave you for the cats to deal with.”
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:07:23 GMT -6
The boy paled, and swallowed again. It took him longer to find his words this time, all his glibness cut away by Malcolm’s ultimatum. Malcolm’s grip tightened. “Don’t waste my time, boy,” he said.
“I…” The boy spoke falteringly, and quailed as he looked up into Malcolm’s eyes. But then he glanced down, drew a deep breath, and seemed to find some sort of resolve. When he spoke again, his voice was still subdued, but it was steadier. “I just want someone to learn from, that’s all. Maybe a place to go home for the night. I’ve been on my own a real long time.”
Why the boy thought Malcolm had been a good candidate for this, he didn’t say. Malcolm considered asking, but in the end he decided he didn’t really care. He’d been reading people for a long, time, and this answer seemed honest.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:08:02 GMT -6
The boy was obviously willing enough to lie from what Malcolm had seen of him, but he had also heard those lies for himself, and doubted the boy was a good enough actor to fool him.
This was, he thought, a terrible idea.
But then, he could always change his mind later, he supposed.
“Fine,” he said. The word was short, sharp - not at all encouraging. And yet, the boy’s eyes lit up instantly with hope. That look made Malcolm instantly regret agreeing, but… Well, he had only agreed because he thought the boy might be of some use after all. And you had to follow through with your investments at least a little, to see whether they would bear fruit or not.
“Really?” the boy exclaimed. “Oh, you won’t be disappointed, I promise! I’ll work so hard, you won’t believe it! You got something for me to do, I’ll do it! Anything, anything at all!”
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:10:22 GMT -6
With a disgusted sigh, Malcolm let him go. The boy flew up, then sped in giddy circles around him, laughing and chattering. Malcolm ignored him and headed for home, and the boy scrambled to follow in his wake. “So, what’s our house like? Is it big? Is it fancy? Someone like you must live somewhere really nice! Can I meet your neighbors? Can I call you dad?”
“No,” Malcolm said, glaring sternly at the boy so that he would understand that this was not up for debate. “When we are in private, you will refer to me as your teacher, or you will get out of my sight. Got it?”
“Teacher! Yes! Absolutely!” The boy nodded fervently, but even this didn’t seem to dampen his spirits. “So when do I start learning, Teach? Tomorrow? Tonight?”
… Maybe it wasn’t too late for that electrified fly swatter after all.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:15:25 GMT -6
But the boy bringing it up did remind Malcolm of one matter, and he held up a hand for silence. The boy shut up; at least he was eager enough to please. "Your name," said Malcolm.
"Huh?"
Malcolm clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Your name, boy." Unless he wanted Malcolm to come up with something for him, in which case he would be going by 'Gnat' from this moment onward, since he was so determined to act like one.
"Oh! I'm Yoru!" The boy beamed at him. Malcolm considered the name. It was short, nothing outlandish; it would do, as something to call the boy. It didn't sound like any name he had ever heard of, but then this was a foreign country.
"Very well. Yoru, then."
"If you don't mind me asking, Teacher, what's your name? Oh, I wouldn't dream of calling you by it, sir! Just wondering, that was all," Yoru said.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:20:21 GMT -6
"Malcolm." This, Malcolm gave up easily enough. Now that he had decided to take the boy under his wing, so to speak, there was no reason to keep it from him. Indeed, if the boy didn't know it, that might be cause for some perfectly preventable issues down the line.
"It's a good name," said Yoru.
"I didn't ask for your opinion," Malcolm replied.
He thought Yoru would descend into his syncophantic agreements yet again, but this time the boy only laughed. "It's nice to meet you properly, sir," he said.
"Hmm," said Malcolm.
In truth he still didn't think this was a wise idea. But there were worse things to have, he supposed, than a lackey who could hide themselves as well as Yoru could. If Yoru was a quick learner, then Malcolm was sure he could find some uses for the boy.
... And if Malcolm had seen a little of his past self in those eyes... Well.
It didn't have to mean anything.
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