"Guess it really is my lucky day."
The Stranger was good at what she did, there was no need to sugar coat it, to be modest, to make it sound sweeter or gentler because they'd be absolutely no point. She was the perfect merchant for death with a killer smile hidden by a ominous mask that commanded terror, and while many found it somewhat cowardly to hide behind a name given to yourself by fearful people, she knew that it was one of the smarter decisions one could make of they wanted to continue living in a place that did everything in its power to make such a thing impossible.
Ketterdam would swallow you up and spit out out, taking you for everything you have and leave you with an empty chest and glassy eyes. She'd seen it happen to those less fortunate, less brutal, less willing to do absolutely anything to survive through morals or inexperience. And perhaps, once upon a time, such people would warrant her pity or her sorrow, after all she'd been such a kind child once, the type that had given flowers to lonely looking widows just to make them smile their sad smiles.
But now all she felt was a numbness, a numbness for everything...only truly focusing on getting through the days with no real purpose in mind and wondering if she'd ever truly get one...but mainly wondering if she'd ever truly feel whole again or least even bring it in herself to care....Perhaps she was too harsh on Ketterdams desperate fools, because it honestly wasn't that long ago that she was one herself all those years ago, listening to stupid promises with that stupid feeling of hope of a better life.
So yes, she was good at her job, she was good at killing, murdering, being an assassin, a monster, a myth whatever you'd want to call it. And she'd long since lost the luxury to feel any sort of guilt over it, mainly because the only creature that was close enough to her to even try to make her feel any sort of emotion was her feral stray turned spoiled house cat, Scruffy, and those emotions usually were annoyance and begrudging affection to the nuisance who ate all her foot and used her home as it's own personal litter-box, as if she purposely didn't leave her window open constantly so her pampered pet could come and go as he pleased.
But the name she'd been given a week ago was causing...well, not trouble exactly, more like contentment? Frustration? Inconsolable rage? Because Kaz Brekker was someone she could almost respect, even if his first name brought a pang of something that felt like grief to her chest that she pushed down and away at every thought...after all...sentiment was such a cruel mistress, and she would be damned if she allowed such things to control her life, or whatever was left of that shambled image.
The main problem was the fact that she couldn't just kill him and be done with it like she did with all of her other marks, no, the order had been to make him hurt and considering the Stranger despised getting her hands dirty with a burning passion, she decided she was going to have to bring that pain some other way, by finding out what he loved...or whatever emotion the Bastard of the Barrel felt that came close to it, and destroy it before taking his breath from his lungs with a cruel twirl of her gloved hands.
However, the Wraith was presenting quite an obstacle to overcome, otherwise known as Captain Ghafa who'd seemed to have temporarily abandoned her sea legs for a break to stalk along the roofs at night like a haunted phantom, only stopping to sit at a window still where the assassin would catch a glimpse of the Brekker boy as he'd talk to her. And between her and the heartrender who's loud giggles seemed to fill the Slat with warmth who she most definitely didn't want recognising her heartbeat, she found that her work was quite cut out for her.
So yes, there was a part of her that felt slightly out of her depth here, she was the perfect killer it was true but she wasn't exactly the perfect spy, so she had to make due with glimpses in the dark, trying desperately to find a weakness at face value only to realise that the Bastard of the Barrel held his cards very, very close to his chest...and so her eyes had turned from him, to his little crows.
Most specifically, the sharpshooter with loose morals and even an even looser gambling addiction who seemed to be a sucker for any sort of pretty face and that's where some semblance of a plan finally took place in the haunted shroud she called a mind, and with a dark smile painting her hidden features concealed by a mask, The Stranger delved into the darkness of the night, and finally allowed Gwen Rietveld a chance to breathe...at least until she was ready to be taken over once more.
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Mornings in Ketterdam were dull, gloomy for lack of better word with cloudy skies and a thick dredge of filthy air stuffed to the brim with something no one ever could truly place that churned thickly and filled you to the brim with tension. Gwen hated mornings, despised them actually because as soon as the sky would begin to lighten it seemed the demon she called a cat decided that if he was awake then she should be to, and would do so by seemingly trying to smother her by laying his overweight body over her face until she gasped awake choking on cat hair.
It didn't matter to him that she was insomniac and hardly got enough sleep to function as a human being anyway, the only thing he cared about was when he'd be getting fed, and that usually came with his fat head ramming into her ankles with screaming cries leaving his gaping mouth as Gwen finally stood, grumbling under her breath as she rubbed the heel of her palm against her puffy eyes that were already sore to begin with.
"Shut up, what does it look like I'm doing, you greedy little monster?" She seethed, exhausted and already on edge as she wandered into her too-small kitchen, bare feet absorbing the cold floor into her goosebump encased body but all she allowed herself was a mere second to shiver before she reached the counter and began dumping some disgusting smelling sort of fish into the bowl as Scuffy meowed and squirmed around her legs, bushy tail brushing against the scars of her calf muscles.
And the moment she placed the bowl on the ground he was set upon it like wolves to slaughter, causing a grimace to curl around her upper lip as she watched him in disgust, quickly moving away from the small creature when she noticed how dirty his face was becoming as he smashed his face repeatedly into the food and not wanting any of that filth to touch her, lest she spends hours scrubbing her body in the shower until her skin was raw and the waters turned pink.
Gwen gave herself a moment to breathe, running her hand through the dark strands of hair that hung lightly over her eyes with a grunt before leaving the kitchen and wandering out into the hallway and back up the rather damaged stairs that creaked and groaned with her every step until she was finally standing on the landing, heading straight for her room and slamming the door behind her as she slumped on her small cot tiredly, palms rubbing down her face as she tried desperately to fight off the urge to simply pass out.
If she went back to sleep now, there was a large chance she'd simply spend the whole day sleeping, and she couldn't have that, not with what she had planned for later on.
She had to be her best tonight, because she only had one real chance at this, one chance to be seen, to be seen as something desirable, to make an absolutely incredible first impression or else her plan would all go for shit and she'd have no choice but to kill the Brekker boy without the mental torture she was forced to implant in her mind from Eddard Nobles picky orders and only get half the payment she was owed because of it, and she was putting herself through all of this stress for the same thing that everyone wanted, kruge.
So, knowing what she knew, she sighed loudly before stretching across the space to grab a piece of paper and a pen from her small drawers and began to write, jotting down what she knew, what she'd find out and how she'd use it, if nothing for more than a distraction to keep her eyes from fluttering shut.
It was a habit by now, something she'd done in the early stages of her life when her legends and myths had begun to fester on diseased-riddled lips, something to do to keep her mind busy away from the slight tremors of her fingers and the pain of her sensitive ears that picked up on every little thing, creaking floorboards from the neigbours upstairs, footsteps echoing through the street, the whistle in the wind...and the heartbeat of herself and her cat, quiet against the night but pounding inside her head.
So, she sat there quietly, scribbling away with a light furrow to her dark brows and a slight twitch to her upturned nose, preparing herself grimly for the afternoon ahead of her, because while the mornings were bad in Ketterdam, or at least around the places where job usually took her...the truth was the nights were so much worse.
And sure enough, when the sun had begun to dip down further into the gloomy clouds of ash that plagued it, did she finally make her move, leaving the safety of her room in the building that was practically rotting from the inside out, tucked into a small corner of an almost abandoned street where no one was around to bother her, dressed away from her usual attire of all black with an ominous mask, and feeling somewhat out of her comfort zone without them, trying to keep it simple and inconspicuous as possible with a pretty looking loose blouse tucked into some dark pants with a pocket full of kruge, aloof and at ease and obviously desperate for fun.
The truth was she could probably- no, scratch that, she definitely could afford to buy herself a new place, hell, probably even one of the mansions that she used to be in awe of when she was younger, especially with the money she'd be getting from Nobles...but she quite liked her little room, away from the masses, it was less of a strain on her overwhelmed senses, less of a headache, less stressful, less cruel...but even so, she was probably, eventually, going to have to look into more suitable homes, but for now, at least hers was warm ans most importantly clean.
Gwen headed straight for the Barrel, watching as the streets became dirtier, colder, far more dangerous than her crummy little comfort of home, keeping her eyes forward and steps confident as she walked with purpose and strive, knowing that if she allowed herself a moment to hesitate or to look weaker than she was, the monsters that hid in Ketterdam's darkness would be on her like moth to a flame and refusing to blow her cover of simple street rat like many others to show them who she truly was, to show them of a monster worth that mantle she'd been given.
Nothing more than a wolf in sheepskin clothing.
But eventually, her stroll came to a stop as she came upon a particular gambling den, one that she knew the sharpshooter regularly graced his presence in from her rather quick observations of the boy, her jaw tensing for half a second at the loud and excited noises that came screaming from inside the establishment as she tugged at the lobe of her ear and took a deep, calming breath...and opened the doors to what she could only describe was pure hell on her senses.
The lighting, the voices, the people, there was just so much for Gwen to absorb in such little time as her eyes quickly flickered across the room, knowing she looked like a startled cat but unable to find it in herself to pull up her act as she froze for a moment to just stop and stare. And truly, she couldn't exactly fault herself on her hesitation, it had been years since she was simply in a room with more than five people and even that itself was overwhelming for her, being an assassin came with quite a few perks...one of them being that she didn't have to socialise and yet here she was, about to do exactly that.
"What can I say gentlemen? I'm just on one hell of a roll here- hey! Now there's no need to be so rude."
And somehow in the throngs of people around her, each louder and more rowdy than the last, her hearing zeroed in on that voice, focusing on it as she moved through the crowds, weaving through them as if she was nothing more than smoke ans when she finally broke through, it was to see just the person she'd came here for, sitting on one of the tables with his eyes wide as the others he'd been playing with grumbled and groaned as they walked away from the boy who spluttered in shock. "Come on, where are you going? Just one more gam-"
Gwen stepped out into the light fully as the warm glow bathed around her and painting her like some ethereal being, tucking a dark curl behind her ear with a sweet smile as he caught sight of her and stalled, his mouth hanging open just the slightest amount as he blinked...before the chair that he'd been leaning back against rather chaotically suddenly swayed and he cursed, throwing himself fiward to avoid splitting his head open as she laughed. "I'll play you."
"Well, guess it really is my lucky day." He composed himself fairly quickly, clearing his throat as he leaned across the table towards her, elbows resting against the table as he linked his hands together, watching her with hooded half-lidded eyes as she giggled and sat herself down on the seat opposite him, quickly mirroring his stance with an amused quirk to her brow, heaving an internal sigh of relief at how well this was going so far as she played the part of some willing ears.
"Smooth, very smooth indeed, Mr...?" She pretended to stall, brows furrowing as she gestured for him to fill in the gaps of her memory...as if she hadn't spent the last couple of days watching his every move to see where he went and what he did, only taking a small break to read up on how to play the games the gambling den seemed to play to make sure she had something to make an impression with that wasn't just her looks and figuring out all of the ways she could use her...abilities to win.
"Fahey, Jesper Fahey. And yours, gorgeous?"
"Gwen, at your service." The dark-haired girl pretended to bow, well, as much as she could sitting at the table that dug into her stomach that only made her wince and rub her side as he laughed, tilting his head to the side as he leaned in closer, narrowing his eyes at her as she mockingly copied his look and pose, awaiting the question she knew was resting on his tongue with a simple playful grace.
"No second name?" But she only smirked at the question instead of replying, leaning her chin against the palm of her hand as he raised his brows and laughed lightly under his breath before shrugging his shoulders with a light grin twitching against his rather pretty lips as he wet them. "Mysterious...I like it." He winked before gesturing at the table with a mock contemplative look on his features as he picked up some cards and hummed. "Well, by all means, but I hope you know that I won't be going easy on you."
"Oh, I'm counting on it, honey." She said, and then she leaned across the space to pick up her own, and just like that...the game was on, and only the Zemeni boy was unaware of the fact that they were playing two very different games, with different rules and different prizes in mind...not that Gwen was ever going to allow him to find that out of course, with the way Jesper seemed to talk, she was sure she'd have what she needed by the end of the night anyway.
But for now she simply focused on her cards, winning game after game with less than ideal methods otherwise known as being a giant cheat, but she'd been somewhat curious to see how long it would take the sharpshooter to figure it out, but it seemed that he was far too busy becoming more and more distressed and shocked at the minute as he kept losing and losing and losing...until eventually, Gwen couldn't help but take some pity on the pout upon his lips and called it quits.
"What? C'mon, I still have some kruge left!" He whined, looking half a second away from pouting as she pulled away with the money in hand, looking over at him with a furrow to her brow but a smile on her lips, filing away the information for later that the Zemeni boy didn't seem to know when enough was enough...when it came to gambling that was, he seemed respectful enough, even if his flirtatious personality was loud and proud and unfortunately for her...quite good.
"Haven't you ever heard of quitting while your ahead?"
"Sounds like something cowards say to help them sleep at night, darling." He leaned back with a cocky grin, leg bent as it rest on the table while the other rested underneath it, swirling one of his rather stunning pearl-handled revolvers on his inex finger but she only quirked a brow as she finally stood up, making a show of stretching her limbs and leaning down, counting her money with a cooing sigh as she straightened up and looked down at him with a shake of her head.
"Nice try. Thanks for the game, not bad for my first time, hm?" She pretended to idly check her nails in mock thought, watching him out of the corner of her eye as the penny dropped and he quickly looked up at her in shock before she turned her back and strolled away, heading his indignant splutters coming from behind her as he scrambled to follow her, quickly catching up with those long legs of his as they danced through the crowds, Gwen having to bite her lip to stop the laugh that desperately wanted to escape at his hanging jaw.
"Now wait a minute- there's no way that was your first time! You played like a pro!"
"Guess it was just my lucky day then." She said simply as she looked over her shoulder at him, catching his hazel eyes as he came up beside her properly after shoving someone out of the way...and watching in amusement as the realisation dawned on his face that she hadn't been really playing the game, but playing him instead with a certain mischief shining in the blue of her eyes that made her out to be some damning trickster of old.
"Oh come on, you shouldn't cheat a cheater, love." He laughed loudly in awed disbelief, just as he finally risked that final step to lean against the bar counter alongside herself, close enough that she could reach out and touch the lapels of his jacket and straighten them but far enough that she didn't feel suffocated by his tall statute that loomed over her. And Gwen, though she hid it well, was actually somewhat suprised at his nonchalant ease at her having his winnings to the point of making jokes with her.
This was Ketterdam after all, and most got pistols pointed at them for less, so she could only assume that either Jesper really was taken in by her pretty face...or was just...something else entirely. However, instead of voicing those thoughts like she, Oh so desperately wanted to do, she leaned across the stool to flutter her eyelashes almost mockingly, taking her bottom lip into the contours of her mouth and nibbling softly, aware of the hazel eyes that had followed the action very closely as he subconsciously leaned in to match her rather flirty stance. "Well then you seemed to have caught me...now just what are you going to do with me, Mr. Fahey?"
"Nothing you wouldn't enjoy, but how about we start with a drink?"
"Is this how you treat all of your opponents? Losing to them and then asking them to buy you a drink, hm?" She laughed, pulling away just an inch or two as he grinned and gestured over towards the Bartender behind her head, holding two of his long ring-covered fingers up in the air as said man caught his eye and nodded, reaching under the table to pull out a large bottle containing what looked to be liquid gold as it danced around at the quick movement, and Gwen only watched their interaction for half a second before tearing her attention back over to Jesper who shrugged.
"Just the pretty ones." He winked, elbows pressed against the table, grinning when he was rewarded by her laugh as he regarded him softy, staring at the slight upturn of her nose, her strange...almost familar features that painted her as some pretty painting like the many he'd seen in Kaz's office, only the she was real with blushing cheeks and glistening eyes of azure blue, so dark and stunning that it made the sea itself pale in comparison. Pretty almost seemed to weak of a word to describe the girl in front of him, but he couldn't bring it in himself to say so in fear of coming off way too strong and quite frankly, desperate.
"Has that line ever worked for you before?" Gwen asked coolly, just as the bartender placed the glasses painted with golden hues in front of the two, her eyes instantly flickering over at them for any sign of foul play as she reached into her pocket and splashed some kruge on the table before turning back to look at her companion who was looking all sorts of ecstatic with himself, the glass already plucked into his grip.
"Why don't you tell me in the morning, gorgeous." Jesper said as he took a drink, staring at her over the brim of the cup with his brow slightly quirked and a slight twitch of his lips...and for a moment, Gwen almost forget herself, the back of her neck and tips of her ears burning as she cleared her throat, and quickly leaned across the bar to grab onto her own drink, electing to ignore the slight tremor of her fingers as she raised the glass in some form of mock toast as she smirked at him.
"Well then, I'll drink to that." Before slamming the liquid down and craving the burn that came after.