Eleven.
Zurri counted eleven of these flowers.
Now usually the Miqo'te didn't care for flowers or things of that nature. It wasn't her thing nor was it something she deemed worth her time. But these ones appeared out of nowhere, almost as if they've always been there. She wasn't well versed in most flora, aside from the ones she used to create her poisons, but these ones were striking enough to catch her attention.
They were stark white in color with petals that ended in crimson ripples. Even the middle bits seemed odd, almost barbed-like. However, she didn't step closer to check since she was sure the almost sickening sweet smell was coming from them too. A sweet smell was usually something Zurri liked but even this was too much for her. Her nose wrinkled as she passed yet another bundle in the Quicksands.
Twelve.
A new decoration Momodi was trying out maybe. She wasn't going to ask. She didn't care for the goals of others. If it doesn't affect herself or her coffers, she'd let it ride. She'll just observe from the sidelines and the shadows. She’ll just have to learn to ignore the way the smell made her head hurt. Zurri made brief eye-contact with the waitress as she lifted a single claw, saying nothing else as she made her way towards an empty table.
A soft clink of a glass hit the tabletop as soon as she settled into the chair, the waitress already moving back to assist her other tables. Metal claws pulled her drink closer as she tugged down the black scarf from her face to take a sip, immediately replacing the fabric over her nose and mouth. If the sudden appearance of the flowers wasn't alarming enough, the amount of people that filled the small clinic she passed on the way here was. Whatever they had Zurri didn't want any of it. She figured it was the flu or something like that. A sharp cough behind her made her tense, rounded ears turning to listen in on the conversation that followed.
"--methin' wrong?" "I a'nt feelin' t'well." "D'ye thin' it was sumthin' in t'food?"
Gold and blue eyes snapped down to her glass as she frown behind her scarf. Was it something in the food? No, Momodi would make sure of that. Zurri was suspicious of this whole situation. Random flowers appearing nearly everywhere and people falling ill. The amount of other people in play didn't help and she had no control over any of them. Any of whatever this is. As she glared at the harmless glass of amber liquid the chair besides her was pulled aside. A black-haired Lalafell man hopped up onto the seat, bringing with him a rustle of papers.
"I see you've brought back the scarf Jysal." An unusually deep voice came from the Lalafell. Zurri only rolled her eyes, extending out a hand to collect the paper she knew he had prepared for her. Usually their deals were short, maybe a quip here and there but this time was different. The both of them could feel the shift in the air. Something was up.
"More like it's required. I know y'don't need me t'be gettin' sick. 'Cause tha’ would be... unfavorable. Tha’ t’word ya used before, hm?" The Miqo’te shot back, smirking under her scarf. His face was unreadable but she clearly was mocking him. He sifted through his papers again, organizing them neatly before he set them to the side. "Either way, get this done. Two suns." He didn't wait to hear a confirmation, already turning to call the waitress over. When the waitress arrived, he was now alone at the table and the only sign Zurri left behind was her drink, still full.
Heading towards the entryway of the Quicksands, the small Miqo'te pulled the hood of her scarf over her head, hiding her mess of white curls before she secured the fabric over her face again. Just as she stepped past the threshold Zurri saw another bundle of the red tipped flowers. Potted neatly amongst the other flowers. Her eyes narrowed as she pressed a hand over the scarf, cupping the fabric tighter to her face. Quick steps faded into silence as she melded into the shadows.
Thirteen.
|| @the-faceless-ffxiv and their ‘Gift’ ||
