"Okay, so, rule one," Haco said, lifting a finger as we both stood in the shadows of the alley, "Do not, I repeat, do not look anyone in the eye. Let me be clear, do not—"
"It's clear, Haco," I said, rolling my eyes. Like he hadn't said it a hundred times already.
"Fine, I was messing with ya'," Haco said, "It's just that Balder lives in a part of town which just isn't that peachy. We can't risk you being mugged by some street rat."
I stopped dead in my tracks, staying hidden in the shadows of the alley. "Then why the hell did you ask me to come?" I asked, frowning.
"Good training. Plus, you were bound to...experience this one time or another," Haco said simply, winking and pulling his hood over his bright red spikes.
With a scoff I did the same, and followed him into the surprisingly busy streets. Haco had given me a hooded vest as well before we had left the unit, accompanied by a grey bandanna. I saw Haco had pulled his scarf over his nose and lips, rendering him completely unrecognisable. I knew I should as well, but I wanted to experience this in full. Instead, I wrapped my bandanna around my wrist, biding extra protection from curious eyes who wanted to see my mark—which wasn't there. I couldn't afford to take any risks.
Regg were walking past and around us as we made our way through what seemed like the main street. Most people hadn't even changed out of their overalls, but had just zipped it open till their waist and knotted the sleeves around their hips. Nearly all the suits were green—cleaning. I came to the conclusion that was the least desired job, dooming it for the poorest. The one thing that stood out though, was that everyone was clean—except for the lower part of their faces, which was often dirty and stained.
I saw a man walk by still wearing a mask covering his eyes and nose—that was probably where it came from. Another thing that stood out was that everybody, but literally everybody had red and raw hands, calloused and sometimes until the point of bleeding. I could even see a sheen of a strange white rash on the backs of their hands.
I picked up my pace, tugging on Haco's arm when I reached him, far in front of me. The smell of chloride and another, unrecognisable smell drifted into my nose, which made me sneeze almost instantly. The fumes irritated my mucous, my eyes and nose starting to water immediately. It became stronger when a regg was close to me—they were carrying around the odour, like the uppers wore their perfume.
"What's that smell?" I asked, quickly followed with, "What have they done with their hands?"
"Cleaning acid. It's the only thing that can clear the air vents from the oxidation caused by the outside fumes," Haco answered, "It burns, but that's all they have. At a certain moment you get used to the pain."
I saw Haco unconsciously rub the back of his hand, before shrugging and continuing walking. "That's why they live here, no one can stand the smell."
He sniffed his nose, nodding to an alley. "That way."
* * *
I didn't know what I had expected from Balder's lair, but for some reason what we found didn't surprise me. Haco entered the unit first, all grey stone and metal on the outside, marked with the name of the place in faded purple letters. I couldn't read what it said, but it didn't seem to matter to most people. I could hear the murmurs of regg outside the building, music escaping every time someone went through the old dented door, which was scratched with the names of countless lovers and ones looking for love alike.
It was a kind of bar, more like a den, filled with smoke which masked much of what was happening. There was music playing in the background, soft notes by what seemed to be produced by strings, and people dancing on the rhythm.
There were more people than I had expected, men and women hanging by the bar or talking with a hushed voice at their tables. Their timidity never seemed to vanish completely, not even under the influence of spirit. Some women were dancing in the middle of the room, that seemed to function as a dance floor. They moved slowly, the long ripped pieces of fabric hanging from their hips swaying by their movements. More people turned their heads as one of them started to sing, a wordless melody filled with hope, joy and sadness.
I tensed up and whipped my head to the side as a hand grabbed by forearm. There was a regg woman, dressed in greenish robes. Her confidence made up for the fact that she was fairly short, like all the regg. She pushed her long dark brown hair back as she looked up to me, pressing herself closer to me. "Hello beautiful," she drawled, "I—"
"Joli, don't even try," Haco suddenly said, hooking his arm in mine and pulling me away from her. "She doesn't have any credits to pay you."
Joli's expression changed completely, from a dreamy smile to a hard look. She let me go. "A woman can try. Business has been slow lately," she said. "What brings you back here, Halfblood?"
"You know I don't like that nickname," Haco said, giving a small wink. "I'm here to see your boss."
"Always on duty," Joli said, sighing deeply, "He's upstairs. You know where."
Haco dipped his chin, "Thank you, m'Lady," he said with a thick upper accent.
"Ass-kisser," she said, rolling her eyes at him. She turned back to me, giving me a wink instead. "You can always come by my unit if you want. R-14."
I felt my cheeks heat up. "Uh—" I said, taken by surprise, "Thanks—"
Haco tugged me away. "Always nice to see you, Joliette."
"Stop blocking me from getting nice clients for a change, boy," Joli said, a laugh resonating in her voice, "Get out." She made a vague gesture with her hand to the staircase in the corner of the room. She walked away, her hand resting on her hip as she swayed to her next potential client.
"Come on," Haco said, looking at Joli who was now sitting on someone's lap, "Before we get harassed even more."
I huffed, "You're just jealous." I gave him a cocky look before I walked over to the staircase, leaving a flabbergasted Haco behind. I shrugged, "What? A compliment is a compliment."
With a snigger he followed me, mumbling something I couldn't understand while he was shaking his head.
We walked up the stairs, leaving the mutter and music behind us. At the top of the stairs I waited for a moment, leaning against the bannister and looking over the room. Unconsciously, I found myself analysing the means of escape—if that need be necessary. The smoke seemed to linger between the bar and the tables, small laughs rising up from the regg sitting between them. I turned back around, seeing Haco had already stopped at a particular door, marked with a purple flower. He raised an eyebrow in question, and I nodded. 'Play along,' he mouthed, before turning back to the door.
He scraped his throat, harshly knocking on the door. "Balder, open the door. It's me."
After a few moments I heard some shuffling behind the door, like some furniture being moved. Some rattling came from the door, like a lock being opened, before actually opening a little bit. A woman with black hair and red clothes stood in the doorway. She wore heavy cosmetics, her dark eyes lined with a thick layer of kohl. She gave us a once-over. "Haco," she said, her voice raspier than I had expected it to be.
"Trish," Haco greeted, a slight smirk appearing on his lips.
"Who is that girl?" she asked, nodding her head in my direction.
"She's with me," Haco answered, "She knows."
This Trish looked at me for some more lingering moments, before opening the door completely. She leaned against the doorway, chewing on something. "He's in the back," she said. She held up a hand before Haco could step into the room, "Weapons at the door."
"Always so careful..." Haco said, but obliged. He reached down, pulling out the two daggers he kept hidden in his boots.
I don't know why I thought that would be it.
He pulled at least five knives out of different sheathes all over his body, letting them fall one by one in the designated box Trish was holding up. Her face remained stoic and emotionless as she watched Haco pull out the ridiculous amount of blades. The metal clinked against each other, falling in the box one by one. Haco sighed when he let the last one drop.
I saw Trish take a breath to point something out, but Haco held up a finger before she could utter a word. He pulled one last blade out of the front of his pants, letting it drop with a content smirk on his face. "There we go."
Trish shook her head ever so slightly before turning to me. "Your weapons please."
"I don't have any," I answered truthfully. I wasn't lying—Vace still had my dagger. I had never felt so vulnerable without it as I was now.
The regg woman regarded me with a raise of a perfectly arched brow, her hand casually resting on her hip. "Fine then," she said, putting the box down and stepping aside. She swiftly glanced over her shoulder. "He's ready for you," she said.
Haco stepped past Trish first, into the room that had been concealed by her body. I quickly followed him, immediately letting my gaze wander around, taking in what was going on.
The room radiated shades of purple and gold, which I immediately recognised as the colour Balder had been wearing the first time we met. There was a fire crackling in the middle of the room, golden and purple pillows and couches surrounding the pit. This room had a completely different feel compared to the sketchy bar downstairs. It seemed like Balder was a wealthy man, living amongst the poor. I wondered why he faked to be a poor merchant in the streets—and even let his bar downstairs make it seem so that he was.
Trish walked over to the pit, dripping something out of a flask in the flames. The contents sizzled when touching the flames erupting out of a metal grate, and the room immediately filled with a thick aroma. I coughed in an attempt to clear my throat, but it didn't help. The rich smell stayed in my nostrils, in a way that I could even taste the sickly sweet smell on the back of my tongue.
My heels sunk into the carpet as I advanced further into the room. I let my gaze slide over the chamber, spotting a regg man draped over the backrest of a dark couch with only a blanket covering him, and, obviously, Balder, resting against the pillows in an almost bored fashion.
He grabbed the wrist of the man, who seemed to be unconscious. "Hal has had a little bit too much of the good stuff," Balder commented dryly, dropping the man's hand and standing up. He straightened his waistcoat, a gold one this time, standing up straighter. The buttons of the vest stood taut—and that was not because his waistcoat was too small. "Haco," he greeted, giving a small nod. He turned to me, a grin playing on his thin lips, "Sweetheart-whose-name-I'm-still-not-familiar-with."
Haco ignored his comment, "I have an offer for you."
"Oh," Balder said, clasping his hands together and showing a toothy grin, "I like offers."
Haco took a breath, but the informant interrupted him. "But, I like credits more. Show me some black, boy," he said, his voice low and brooding.
Haco and I shared a look. Then, Haco pushed down the piece of fabric around his left forearm which covered his mark. The numbers on it were black, and not far from red at all. For some reason I found it strange to see the black markings on the boy's pale wrist. It was like I hadn't expected them to be there—but it only assured the fact that he was a regg, and under the power of the Masters. What such a small token could do. Unconsciously, I reached to the fabric on my own left arm, fingering the unscarred flesh under the bandanna.
"We have the same toy," Balder said, raising his eyebrows for a swift moment after inspecting the numbers on Haco's wrist, "Chip scramblers. Nifty things, aren't they?"
"Yes, they are."
"It's always fun to be under the radar of the Stripes. The only downside is the pain," Balder continued. "Girl, have you ever had a scrambler on you? At first, it feels just like a pinprick, or a scab starting to heal. But you know you can't itch it away," he said. "But as time progresses...it starts to hurt. Oh, and it hurts all right," he said, shaking his head. "It feels like there are bugs starting to creep up your veins, with tendrils of fire trailing behind them. At a certain moment your arm just starts to numb, your nerves unable to register the impulses anymore. That's when they usually start to faint." He shrugged slightly, like it happened all the time. "And then the spasms haven't even started yet."
I worriedly glanced to my right, seeing Haco clasp his hand around his arm. He eyed Balder suspiciously, as the informant kept talking.
"How long have you been wearing it, boy?" Balder asked, "A few hours? Maybe more?"
Haco shrugged carelessly, "Not feeling my fingertips does have its perks," he said, his trademark smirk appearing on his lips. The smile didn't reach his eyes this time, though.
Balder just laughed. His deep laugh filled the room, and filled me with fear. I didn't know Haco had been wearing a scrambler. I didn't know it had such effects.
Balder's laughter dried up. He took a breath, "Foolish boy. What did you come for?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"We need blueprints of the Upper District," Haco answered, squaring his shoulders.
"Which Families?"
"All of them."
______________________________
Hi there!
Early chapter! ^_^ I should be studying right now. Oh well, at least I wrote something. *laughs awkwardly*
Anyways, thanks for reading! I hope you liked this itsy-bitsy-longer-than-usual chapter! As I am writing this author's note, I'm realising how little of the story there's left to be told... things are definitely speeding up from here. Ah! I'm anxious. I hope you'll guys like what's to come ^_^ (knowing me it will still be a bunch of chapters but that's beside the point.)
Also, I wanted to say I entered the Wattys 2016! The ones who've been here so since the beginning know this isn't the first time I'm attempting to win something. So, if you want to heighten my little-to-none chances, please vote and share this story with your friends! That would mean a lot. :)
Adios, see you in two weeks...
- Vivian