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* Lisl sits in the dim, greasy shadows of the Weasel's Warren (which *still* has miraculously not burned down). She has taken a table in the far corner and sits with her back to the wall. A small fringe of empty tables nearest hers attest to the wary respect she's earned from the regulars-- either that, or the smell that a dozen tankards of the Warren's rat's-piss ale produces. <Lisl> ::Every so often the bartender glances in the direction of her table, probably checking that she's still alive. Three empty tankards sit at her elbow, and she's nursed a fourth halfway down. Eight more from her table sit in the waitress's dish bin. It's obvious she's been there awhile, and the natives have had a chance to get used to her presence, although the whispers are even more subdued than usual.:: * Dawn enters the Warren and pauses by the door to let his eyes adjust to the dim light (or stop watering from the smell, whichever). He still looks shabby and disreputable, his blonde curls dishevelled, his face in need of a shave, a patched and threadbare cloak thrown back over one shoulder. * Lisl sips her ale, looking disinterested in what's going on around her. She leans her chin on one fist, which tilts her head a bit in the direction of a table halfway across the room, where a man with the look of a bouncer is whispering fiercely to his mates. <Dawn> ::He nods in cool greeting to a table of smugglers, then spots Lisl and begins to make his way across the room. Those from whom Lisl has been picking up the most interesting and useful gossip seem to recognize Dawn as a person of importance. One or two eye him nervously, but he passes them without comment to drop into a chair across from Lisl - his back to the room, disturbingly - and prop one foot up on the table:: <Dawn> Bit out of your run, aren't you? <Lisl> ::raises an eyebrow at him over the rim of her mug as she takes another sip:: A girl can't get thirsty? Besides... ::straightens up and glances around:: ...a dozen years ago I was a regular here. Maybe I got nostalgic. <Dawn> ::doesn't comment until the bartender brings him a dirty glass filled with an amber liquid. He tosses a coin to the bartender without looking, knocks back half the drink, then sets it on the table.:: Maybe you do. ::eyes the several flagons on the table:: Lot of fucking thirst, though. <Lisl> ::grins and leans on her elbows again:: Hey, Warren ale's unique, you can't deny. <Dawn> ::snorts:: True. That's why I never drink it. So should I just leave again? Smiley over there, who's been holding out on us, would probably be a lot happier to see me go. <Lisl> You're always welcome at my table, Dawn. ::puts her mug down:: Truth is, I've been a little... preoccupied lately with my own problems. Now that they're more or less settled, I thought it was high time to come catch up on the gossip. It's been... entertaining, to say the least. ::looks up at him:: Bit disturbing, too. <Dawn> Yeah? Do tell; I hardly ever get out anymore these days. <Lisl> Ah... ::takes another sip:: So you wouldn't know anything about a new group of thieves forming.... buncha real strong-arm types with a trained dog. <Lisl> ::grins suddenly:: ...but you might have a friend who's heard of them? <Dawn> ::looks suddenly grouchy:: No, them I've heard of. They're not even news to the Lizards. <Lisl> And their little pet's still around... I wonder how they've been using her... <Dawn> She goes along when they collect protection money. There have been a couple of deaths, too, but quieter than the first few. <Lisl> Hm. ::scowls into her mug:: I don't like it. ::looks up:: And I rather imagine you don't much, either. <Dawn> ::knocks back the rest of his drink:: There aren't many of them. A handful, at the core - the rest will probably break as soon as the core goes down. I'm looking forward to the ones who try to slither back home. ::grins viciously:: <Lisl> ::raises an eyebrow:: Oh? ::lowering her voice a bit:: The core's going down, then? <Dawn> Has to, doesn't it? Them or us. We're almost done with our intel. We think - at least, we hope - they're still working on theirs. ::eyes Lisl across the table:: Want in? <Lisl> ::raising her eyebrows:: Aye, if you'd have me. I'm still not... ::thinks a moment, choosing her words, and then smiles wryly:: ...I still don't entirely feel like I was just crying "wolf," before. Long as they have that "dog," it's going to bother the piss out of me. <Dawn> ::snorts:: It's *scaring* the piss out of me, and I'm not that easily fluttered. We'd be more than happy to have you along to deal with that one. ::cocks his head and studies her for a moment:: What happens if she bites you? ::this last said *very* quietly; little more than a breath:: <Lisl> ::raises an eyebrow and points a thumb at her chest:: Me? Or just anyone? <Dawn> ::grins:: *You*. I *know* what happens if she bites *me.* <Lisl> Ah. ::leans back with a small frown, as if she hadn't considered the possibility:: Well, we'll find out, won't we? ::scratches her chin, and then grins:: Sorry. ::waves a hand:: Well... put it this way. Would you use fire against a red dragon? <Dawn> ::smirks:: I might. Though not directly, of course... But that's good to know. ::eyes her for another moment:: If you're in, then we can start moving even sooner than I'd planned. <Lisl> ::nods:: You've something set already, then? <Dawn> Nothing definite, but I *always* have a plan. ::grins:: <Lisl> Heh. More power to you, then. How soon? <Dawn> A week or so to line up my principals and hash out the finer details and let them think they're arguing about it with me and finally nodding and thanking them all for their input and after due consideration we'll all do it my fucking way. Couple of weeks, maybe. Certain principals talk a *lo-* -OW! ::winces and glares at nothing in particular:: * Lisl puts her mug down and cocks her head, nostrils flaring slightly. <Dawn> ::muttering:: Stupid cloak pin. * Lisl clamps down on a grin. "Oh, is *that* what it was." <Lisl> ::mutters into her mug:: Thought you seemed awfully trusting... <Dawn> ::adjusts his cloak:: Never let a woman give you a fucking present. They want you to *use* the damn thing. ::there is, indeed, a very nice cloak pin in Dawn's rag of a cloak:: <Dawn> Trusting? ME? Bite your tongue. <Lisl> ::raises an eyebrow, eyeing the pin:: Nice work. You'd rather refuse it and deal with *that* fallout? Brave man. <Dawn> I'm *wearing* the fucking thing, aren't I? I'm not *that* stupid. <Lisl> ::coughs to cover another smile:: Aye, and a handsome cloak pin it is. <Dawn> Couple of weeks. I'll be in touch. ::pauses:: Though if you should happen to encounter Miss Teeth-and-Drool in a dark alley somewhere, don't feel obliged to restrain yourself on *my* account. <Lisl> ::soberly:: I'm hoping not. There's a reason I came here to listen to the gossip instead of heading down to the docks... if she *is* what I think she is, I'd rather not attract her attention unduly. <Lisl> On the other hand... ::cracks her knuckles reflectively:: If it's a *really* dark alley... ::grins slowly:: <Dawn> ::stands to go, then pauses:: If she gets to any of my people... Or me. Any way to tell, before the month is up? <Lisl> ::rubs her chin:: Best way to tell is from the source... if she is, or isn't. Other than that... well, I'm no mage. I'll ask my mother, she's the expert. <Dawn> ::grimaces:: Try not to do anything too fatal to me or my folks if it happens, aye? <Lisl> ::raises her eyebrows:: 'Course not. But then, I'd not be the one you'd have to worry about. <Dawn> I know. But if it were to happen, you might be my only chance for containment. <Lisl> Ah! I see what you mean. ::smiles:: Don't worry about it, Dawn. I don't have so many friends that I can afford to kill them off indiscriminately. <Dawn> Just making sure. My friends might not necessarily be your friends. ::grins:: Fuck, my friends aren't even *my* friends, some days. Like, say, Smiley over there. <Dawn> Anyhow, as I said, I'll be in touch. You need to find me, you know how. <Lisl> Aye, you've mentioned him a time or two. ::grins:: Poor bloke. <Lisl> Same shop? <Dawn> No, we've moved. Place got toppled during the invasion. <Lisl> Oh. My condolences. Leave you a note here, then? <Dawn> Aye. <Lisl> ::nods:: You need to find *me,* Mace-- ::stops, looking faintly stricken:: well... I've not moved. <Dawn> ::face darkens briefly, and he nods:: I know where you are. <Lisl> ::nods:: Cheers, then. ::recovering a bit of her humor:: Give my regards to your partner. * Dawn nods, then turns to leave. He pauses at a table of roughnecks and exchanges a few words with one who sports a scar that curves his features into a permanent scowl. The words are: "Smiley, you fuck. Today, or you're having liver for dinner." Smiley, despite being approximately twice Dawn's mass, manages a credible cower. Dawn nods once and departs. <Lisl> ::hides a smile in her mug again as she drains it:: Well now... this should be entertaining. * Lisl rises and pays her tab before departing. |
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