“Only risks that bring rewards, Inej. I can promise you that.” Kaz gives her a sideways slash of a grin, a cat dining on canaries at her words of caution. He is careful, as much as he can be in this world living this life. As much as he can be while still getting ahead, because there is no such thing as remaining still to be safe. She never calls him Dirtyhands to his face, he’s noticed that, but they both have banked on him serving that role to keep himself and others safe. Can he do that without his rumors and reputations wrapped around him? In full honesty, Kaz has never really tried.
He leaves her in his room, trusting her to find her way to hers. There’s literally nothing there that holds a secret she doesn’t share, so he’s not afraid of snooping. The only story to the life before he met her is on his body, that bold and black R tattoo, and she’s never asked him about it. Everything else in that room is Brekker’s business, and if Inej wishes to look at his business ledger books she’s welcome. He knows that numbers interest her about as much as saints interest him, though.
His cane clacks against the muddy streets, an umbrella holding the drizzling at bay. The rain isn’t going sideways for once so he stays mostly dry. He can smell the salt and smoke in the air, and the sky is a brilliant mix of orange peeking through gray skies. His business takes a few hours, but he keeps his hat and umbrella, so he counts it a success as much as he does the deals being made and the costs extracted.
A box of pastries is under his arm when he returns. A few of the Dregs have made their way downstairs, though many sleep til noon or later given the late hours. He sees Nina and Wylan up and about at least, and when his gaze flicks past them Nina says, “She’s upstairs.”
“Who?” Kaz asks as he sets the box on the table.
Nina just gives him a knowing look over the cup of tea she’s sipping at the table. Reaching over she opens the box and lights up at the pastries. She helps herself to an apple turnover and nibbles it.
Kaz grabs a fruit danish for himself and Inej’s favorite for her, both wrapped in a napkin, and without a word heads for the stairs.
“Good choice!” Nina calls to his back, and laughs when Kaz gets very creative in managing to flip her off while carrying pastries and his cane.
His heavy footsteps up the stairs announce his presence before he even arrives at her doorstep. The rhythm and cadence tells her that, for Kaz, he’s in a good mood. Politely, he knocks on her door and waits to let her tell him he can enter.
Swapping out HTML if that's okay!
He leaves her in his room, trusting her to find her way to hers. There’s literally nothing there that holds a secret she doesn’t share, so he’s not afraid of snooping. The only story to the life before he met her is on his body, that bold and black R tattoo, and she’s never asked him about it. Everything else in that room is Brekker’s business, and if Inej wishes to look at his business ledger books she’s welcome. He knows that numbers interest her about as much as saints interest him, though.
His cane clacks against the muddy streets, an umbrella holding the drizzling at bay. The rain isn’t going sideways for once so he stays mostly dry. He can smell the salt and smoke in the air, and the sky is a brilliant mix of orange peeking through gray skies. His business takes a few hours, but he keeps his hat and umbrella, so he counts it a success as much as he does the deals being made and the costs extracted.
A box of pastries is under his arm when he returns. A few of the Dregs have made their way downstairs, though many sleep til noon or later given the late hours. He sees Nina and Wylan up and about at least, and when his gaze flicks past them Nina says, “She’s upstairs.”
“Who?” Kaz asks as he sets the box on the table.
Nina just gives him a knowing look over the cup of tea she’s sipping at the table. Reaching over she opens the box and lights up at the pastries. She helps herself to an apple turnover and nibbles it.
Kaz grabs a fruit danish for himself and Inej’s favorite for her, both wrapped in a napkin, and without a word heads for the stairs.
“Good choice!” Nina calls to his back, and laughs when Kaz gets very creative in managing to flip her off while carrying pastries and his cane.
His heavy footsteps up the stairs announce his presence before he even arrives at her doorstep. The rhythm and cadence tells her that, for Kaz, he’s in a good mood. Politely, he knocks on her door and waits to let her tell him he can enter.