Who

Veresch, rebels

What

Where does a girl go after being embarrassed? Answer: nowhere good.

When
Where

Bazaar, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 



Dodgy Rooftop

The boy perches on the rooftop in the thundering rain, dirty and bedraggled. Fingertips scratch at one wrist, and the narrow frame rearranges itself behind a rooftop coop in the futile hope of better shelter. I hate him. The thought is startlingly clear, enough to make him pause in the midst of scratching a wrist, and pale green eyes narrow in thought as below, the covered bit of the alley sprouts bits of limbs and murmured conversation.

"…the fuck, you know you can't trust Belios. We've got a good thing going here, don't fuck it up now."

How odd. I wonder who Belios is. Did I miss something? Uneasily aware that concentration is going lacking, the boy squeezes his eyes shut and rocks from one hip to the other on the uncomfortable rooftop, one grubby hand moving to rest, pained, on a flat chest. Sharding stupid man. He'll see. I put my toys away a long time ago.

From beneath, gratingly coarse laughter. "D'you think I'm a whore? You must, you're tryin' to fuck me. Keep hoarding the rations. I don't give a fuck 'bout the guards. Distract 'em, knock 'em out, I don't care, but keep it comin' in. We can get a lot in bargain for those supplies." Lightning flashes, and another curse erupts. "I hate this weather. Let's go back to the Wher."

And I hate that you haven't fallen over from pox yet, the grubby teen's mind snipes. Running supplies? I wonder where they're getting the extra. Stealing it from others? Slipping into stores? Grimacing, he slowly stretches and makes for the other side of the roof and skins over the side.

Seconds later, falling solidly into a rain-slushy midden, he squashes his eyes shut. Thank you, Faranth.

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