It'd be mean to say them all wouldn't it.... do you have a set of characters on the mind atm???
TOO LATE I’M DOING ALL OF EM or at least the major people y’all prolly know about
also gonna add these into character sheets, because why not! (for those of you who missed the earlier ask, lux wants what color wings my ocs would have o3o)
NOVEMBER RED (and company)
rhiot - a very soft, rain cloud grey, lined with white. his wings are a bit bigger than average, and soft enough to make you cry, but rhiot is self-conscious and always trying to tuck them in so he is as unobtrusive as possible.
loula - very similiar to her brindled fur, her wings are mostly a dark brown/black, with a few orange feathers along the primaries. she is very proud of them.
milt - he has pretty large wings, just shy of massive, like a golden eagle’s. they’re a soft brown with gold and red tints in the sunlight. he’s sort of let himself go with regards to wing maintenance, and so they usually look a little ragged and dusty, but perfectly functional. somehow.
abrams - gold. enormous. made for protecting everybody and everything. they are also incredibly soft and good for hugs.
javier - mostly black, but with spots of bright red feathers here and there. he keeps them neat and clean for the most part, but sometimes has a nervous habit of pulling at the red feathers, and sometimes after a particularly bad relapse, you’ll see an occasional bald spot because of it.
MERCURY INDEPENDENT
eli - usually, they’re white, speckled with black/dark brown, and very, very big. he used to dye them, but it takes way more work than doing his hair, so he doesn’t so much, anymore. when he turns to metal, his wings do, too. eli has cut people with metal feathers more than once. he can’t really fly like that, though, but he can glide short distances.
kawai - black, but with bright, electric blue feathers in spots. no one is quite sure if she dyes them that way, or if they naturally, randomly grow out. they’re often disarrayed, because it’s hard to keep things like feathers smooth when she’s running electricity all the time.
sam - black. like his soul. crow wings.
EXTRANEOUS SUPERPOWER NERDS
winn - a light grey. made for Getting The Frick Out Of Here.
rembrandt - in a dark room, they look black. he keeps them very neat, every single feather in its place. they’re hawk-shaped, and it’s not until the light’s on that you realize they’re a deep, deep red. not quite as bright as blood, but that’s the very first image to come to mind.
YTHEA
keo - bright blue, like a kingfisher’s, except keo is in the habit of regularly dying them, and so they’re very often a perfectly matched color palette of bright, neon colors. sometimes, if he’s feeling extra fancy, he’ll do it in patterns like his tattoos.
sheisha - a very happy, bright pink, with edges and bars in black. sometimes she gets keo to dye them, but just for special occasions.
tarquin - his are smokey grey, and sometimes they glint in the light, but then you can’t tell if they really do, or not. edged in a much darker grey, nearly black.
talzee - this is a tough one, so i’m just gonna say they’re the same auburn as her hair, with brown and white freckles.
EVERYONE ELSE
banner - his wings are a light red and white, but with coppery flashes closer to his hair color.
tovi - magpie wings, white and blue down the middle.
if i missed someone you wanna know about, send me an ask!!!!
i’ve kinda been doing both ythea and bannerworld for most of these asks because i really kinda think that bannerworld is probably the historical version of ythea, but i am still unsure, because the geography doesn’t quite work out in my mind. idk. we’ll see, i guess. also i just won’t shut up so we’re talking about em both.
02. do any of your characters have magical abilities? what kind?
do any of my characters not have magical abilities, may be the better question
banner. banner doesn’t
tarquin and keo are both inkmages! tarquin used to be able to heal, but only himself. healing magic does not and cannot coexist in the same person as other magic, tho, so when he became an inkmage, he gave it up. he’s more offensive-based, while keo is better with shields and illusions.
sheisha has a little bit of magic; she has three or four spells she can do on a regular basis. keo is trying to teach her to make better shields, but she would rather just learn his phasing spell so she can rob places more easily. that one’s a bit too tricky for her, tho.
locrian can turn into a big giant lizard, tho idk how magical that really is, it’s more like just a perk of being an outlander. however, he can also freeze people and inspire fear in them by staring real hard. it’s a drake thing. he may or may not also be able to breathe fire, but that would probably be OP.
talzee’s son is a magic pusher! he can sense magic, and can disrupt spells by literally shoving or pulling the magic apart. he does not play a very big part in the story.
hmmmmm i could probably go on but i should. avoid doing so. there are Too Many People.
03. is there a character without abilities? why are they unique?
talzee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love talzee. she was either stolen or sold or sent away as a baby, to a secret terribly child spy school vis a vis black widow style, and was raised to be an assassin. except!!!! when she was sixteen or so and hadn’t yet done any of the more terrible things, their complex was busted open and she and a bunch of others were “”””rescued.”””” she still ends up in the espionage business, but at the time of the story, is allegedly “out.” this may or may not be true. anyway, she is an adorable chubby, dumpy little single mom with a bright smile and the best sniper skills you’ve ever seen. or not seen, rather. she could kill you with her bare hands in sixteen different ways, but she won’t, because she’d rather just make cookies.
and then there’s banner! there’s probably a million other soldiers just like him, but he is mine and i love him. he is better at hand-to-hand combat than swords and things (tho he is also very good at swords and things, he has to be, he was eolan-trained!!!), and has a cool pair of gloves with metal plates sewn into the backs and along the knuckles. he can use it to fight off sword-users, and has gotten decently good at it, but it’s also more of a last-resort thing, because you’re just as likely to get your forearm sliced off as you are to beat a swordsman with them.
13. who are the main protagonists? do they have any special weapons?
keo, tarquin, and sheisha are the main-main characters, but talzee defo deserves a mention. besides the first three’s magic, no, not really.
banner’s got the gloves i mentioned before!!!
14. who are the main antagonists? do they have any special weapons?
borza is the main antag for keo and tarquin’s story. he doesn’t have any personal weapons, but he is an oligarch, and has a great deal of authority and leverage that lets him get things done.
17. are there any important symbols in your book? explain.
do i look intelligent enough to make symbols??? my word, i cannot get that deep.
uuhhhhh banner’s company is called the red dogs, and they’re very proud of it? i am not sure if they were already named that, or if they name themselves that after he was turned into a pupper. that’s about as symbolic as it gets around here.
19. do any of your characters fly? how?
nope. king mafvin probably could, but he has no reason to. sheisha can cast featherfall, tho!!!
★ kawai’s music tastes are already a little unexpected (she listens to really chill reggae or island house music), but she keeps this one a secret: she would legit kill a man if adele asked her to.
★ this doesn’t really count as a guilty pleasure because talzee doesn’t feel guilty about it at all, but growing up in her complex, they were never allowed to really indulge in things like cake and ice cream. now that she is a free and independent grown woman, she will have six root beer floats a day if no one stops her. but you can’t really stop her because she knows how to murder you sixteen ways with her bare hands and a bottle of soda.
1 & 5, They find a doorway to a Narnia-esque world
y’all seem dead set on putting talzee (1) and banner (5) together, this is like the third time and i switch up the lists every reblog. they are destined to be best world-hopping friends forever i guess!!!
Banner didn’t hesitate when Talzee told him she found another door. He was still wearing the jeans and the button-down shirt she had given him a day ago (she would be dismayed to find out he hadn’t showered while she was gone), and automatically pulled on his leather armor. He had had to receive the message secondhand from her neighbor, a sleepy-looking man with brown skin and vivid tattoos, because even after a month of living in this hellworld, Banner still couldn’t figure out how to use those things she called ‘phones.’
“Good luck, or whatever,” the neighbor said with a yawn, slouching back to his apartment as Banner gingerly stuck the phone in his pocket and clattered down the stairs. He still wasn’t sure he believed the phones weren’t actually magic, but Talzee had gone to great lengths to try and explain the concept of electronics to him. He had finally accepted the stupid thing just to get her to shut up.
She was waiting for him several blocks down, and Banner frowned when he realized it wasn’t the same place he had come through. It looked like another eating-place, but after a moment of puzzling through the signs plastered on the front door, Banner figured out that it must have been shut down a long time ago.
“Hey, Banner, around here!” Talzee called. “Did Keo show you how to use the GPS?”
Banner just gave her a blank look as he walked around the edge of the building, readjusting the way his sword hung from his belt. Nothing fit right over these clothes - they weren’t thick enough, and now his armor was just a touch too loose. “He told me the way.”
“Close enough.” Talzee smiled at him. Banner couldn’t help but return it in kind. “Okay, now, I don’t know where this one goes, but it’s not too far from the one you came in. So, logically, it should only be - what, six miles away on the other side?”
Banner just shrugged at her as they picked their way around toppled trash cans and rotted wooden pallets. “How did you find it?”
“Tarquin found something about it in the royal library.” Talzee stopped and nodded at the back door of the eating-place. “It still took a while to find. I think it’s open.”
When she stopped talking, Banner could understand what made her think so. A low hum shivered the air, and he could feel - something different about the place that set it apart from the rest of Talzee’s world. Banner glanced over at Talzee, and she nodded, so he took the door handle and pushed it open.
The instant Banner stepped through, he knew something was wrong. He didn’t remember how the portal from his world to Talzee’s had felt the first time - he had been too panicked to notice - but this was all wrong.
The trees crowded in too thickly around him. Vines hung down from their branches, and the air was thick and sticky, even though it was still early morning. He heard a crackly sound behind him, and turned just in time for Talzee to walk into his chest.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, and then shoved her aside, heading back towards that curious arch in the trees he had just come through.
Nothing happened. Banner swore, turned around, and tried again.
Talzee wasn’t paying attention to his frantic pacing. She stared around, wide-eyed, at the greenery around them. “This is amazing,” she said, delighted. “You live in a jungle? I wouldn't’ve guessed it -”
“Why did you come through?” Banner demanded. “This - This isn’t right. It’s closed - we won’t be able to get back -”
He had never seen a place like this. Talzee finally seemed to notice his worry, and she cautiously put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, shh, it’s fine,” she said. “I’ll get back somehow, there’s bound to be another door somewhere.”
“There are no other doors.”
The voice, low and growly, startled them both. Banner looked up, instead of explaining what the problem really was (he was less concerned about Talzee being trapped in a different world than a good friend probably should have been), and jumped in surprise when he saw an enormous cat lounging in the thick branches above them.
It looked kind of like a snow cat, but only in size, and because it had spots. The resemblance ended there. The cat had gold fur instead of white, and was sleek instead of fluffy; its thin tail whipped back and forth as it stared at them with green eyes.
Banner felt for his sword, woefully aware that he wouldn’t be able to do anything if the creature decided to pounce. It opened its mouth in a huge yawn and then said, “I haven’t seen anyone come through that door in ages.”
Talzee beamed. “Animals talk in your world?” she said, excited. Banner’s shoulders dropped.
3 and 7. They live in a world where superheroes and supervillains exist. What powers do they have (if any)? Are they heroes or villains? What is their relationship to one another? ((If 3 and 7 don't work together, pick two other characters!)) Have fun! xx
3 and 7 are talzee and tarquin, and of course they work well together! that is the one trait their entire relationship is predicated upon.
they come from a world with magic n stuff and tarquin is a mage. i thiiiiink in this one, though, talzee would have the ability to sense danger to herself / others closest to her (in whatever way you choose to interpret ‘closest to her’). sometimes she can sense what, exactly, the danger is; sometimes it’s vague.
tarquin’s power would be self-regeneration, but i think as time goes on, he’d be frustrated by his inability to help other people with it, so he finds some external source of abilities, maybe?
tarquin would be a hero, of course. he would be the most obnoxious, insufferable, handsome Golden-Age style jerkface hero, with most of his triumphs actually inconsequential in the big picture. behind the scenes, tho, his methods are a lot darker and less heroic; he uses his public persona to mask and excuse a lot of the other things he gets done.
talzee would have been raised up to villainy as a child, probably in some kind of orphanage or group home for kids who were stolen away as infants when it was discovered they had powers. she would be liberated in her late teenage years, and quickly discover that background heroism fits her a lot better. being a mom fits her best of all, though.
their relationship starts when talzee is freelancing as a sort of mercenary/bodyguard super, and comes across tarquin doing his sketchier work. they start working together more and more often, before finally getting MARRIED. tarquin retires his public persona and talzee never developed one, but they still run about fixing the world’s problems in the background.
Writing prompt: 8 and 10 discussing the best way to break into a secure location. For reasons good or bad is up to you.
8 - Talzee
10 - Banner
oops we’ve done some world hopping
“Don’t break this one.”
“I won’t.” Banner scowled down at the thin, flat tablet she passed to him, holding it gingerly. It showing a map of a building; she had manipulated it earlier by swiping her fingers across it, and he hesitantly copied the movement while she bent to rummage through her bag. Instantly, the picture got bigger, until now all he saw was one black line cutting through a patch of white. Cursing under his breath, Banner tried fixing it.
By the time Talzee had finished putting together whatever contraption she’d brought with, Banner had somehow made the glass tablet display a grid full of brightly-colored shapes and some creepy-looking picture of a girl in pigtails in the corner. Sighing, Talzee took the tablet back.
“Okay, so the reason we can’t just go over the wall,” she said patiently as she made the tablet go back to the map, “is because there’s cameras everywhere. Do you remember what cameras are?”
“Yes, they scry things,” Banner said, hating being talked to like he was an idiot. Talzee said that cameras, like her tablet, were neither magical nor alive, but he was finding that hard to believe. He frowned at the thing she had made; it only vaguely resembled the Padrunni rifles that he knew from his time. Apparently, they were a lot better now in the future - Talzee said that she could kill someone with her ‘sniper rifle’ when she was still 900 meters away. She didn’t seem to want to kill someone tomorrow night, but she was still bringing a much smaller, handheld version of the thing.
She looked like she was about to launch into another explanation of the difference between cameras and scrying spells, but then stopped herself and just nodded. “So each of these - don’t touch the screen - each of these little red x’s are cameras. There’s no blind spots along the wall, but the security guards here work for local province government, so they’ve got sucky training and we could probably take them all out. I know one of the janitors that work there -”
“What’s a janitor?”
“Someone who cleans the building.” Talzee brushed a hand through her red, curly hair. “He works overnight, so I think I can bribe him into smuggling us both inside in his truck.”
Banner, hating himself with every stupid question that came out of his mouth, interrupted again to ask, “What’s a truck?”
“A bigger version of a car,” she said patiently. “The only problem is that his truck’s searched every time he goes in, so we still need to figure out how to deal with the security guards.”
Banner stared down at the tablet, rubbed the back of his neck, then said, “Just kill the cameras with your rifle and then we can go over the wall.”
Talzee buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Because then the guards will know that someone’s trying to break in.”
“But the cameras will be dead, they won’t be able to tell anyone,” Banner said. Talzee stared at him through her fingers. Banner, realizing that he had said something stupid again, bristled. “What?”
“In the sapphire?” she finally sighed, and the man nodded.
“Probably,” he said, temporizing his words with a shrug. “It’s the best lead I have, anyway. Especially since you obviously didn’t find anything.”
“And now that lady has it.” Talzee rubbed her face. “Fantastic.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure I can convince her to take it off easily enough,” the man said with a careless shrug. Talzee raised an eyebrow.
“Surely,” she said in a dry voice, rearranging the desk to make sure everything was as she found it. She hadn’t necessarily expected this to be an easy job, but it was rapidly becoming more and more difficult.
Talzee wiggled the pistol at the other would-be thief. “You should probably stay here before you get hurt.”
“There’s no chance of that.”
“You’re the one standing at gunpoint,” Talzee said, snorting. “Don’t be so cocky.”
“Love, if you were going to shoot me, you would have done it already.”
Talzee hated the confidence in his voice. “I still could,” she reminded him, but that would create a host of problems. Someone would probably hear the gunshot. That would panic security and, in turn, the guests; the party would be locked down, and there would be no chance to snag the jewel. If that was, in fact, where the Friezburg codes really were located, and this idiot wasn’t just sending her off on a red herring.
She sighed, watching time tick away on the clock mounted on the wall. “Just stay out of my way,” she advised him.
“Sooooo, no chance of sharing?”
“Definitely not.”
The man pouted. “I was here first, I call dibs,” he said with a sniff. Talzee rolled her eyes. As annoying as he was, she didn’t really want to kill him. If he kept getting in her way, though...
“Look, I don’t want to leave the party with a dead body,” the man said, echoing her thoughts. He fidgeted with his sleeve cuffs, not quite meeting her gaze. “Let’s just agree to not murder each other, and whoever gets to the sapphire first, wins.”
Talzee, though her mind was already made up, made a show of thinking it over.
“Fine,” she said after a long moment, twirling the small gun around her fingers. “But I’m keeping this.”
“What? Come on, I need that -”
“Spoils of war.” Talzee picked up her clutch from the desk, stuffing the miniature handgun inside. It would be far too obvious once she reached the main party, but she’d need to make a stop in the bathroom to freshen up anyway. She’d find a better place to hide it there.
Once the gun was out of sight, the man started around the desk. Talzee backed up, keeping distance between them, and set her hand on the doorknob. The man stopped a few steps away, and they both eyed each other warily.
“Hear anyone?” he asked in a whisper. Talzee waited, head cocked, and her gaze fell on an umbrella stand next to the door.
“Ooooo, look at this!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper, grabbing the umbrella.
Frowning, the man gave an impatient sigh. “Are you going to let us out?”
“No, wait, no, look, this is a limited edition, hand-made Gershwin,” Talzee babbled in excitement, pulling all sorts of buzz words out of the air. THe man edged a bit closer, and with a sugary sweet smile, Talzee swung the heavy, carved wooden handle up between his legs.
“Son of a -”
Talzee closed the door behind her, grinning, and rushed off before her new rival’s curses could attract anyone else.
He still reached the ballroom before she did, but Talzee expected that. She had had to stop and fix her hair and makeup in the bathroom, and grimaced at the seam that had split along the side of her dress. It was barely an inch long, and lay against her ribs, so she just hoped that her arm would cover it for the most part, and that if anyone noticed, they’d be decent enough people not to mention it.
She spotted the man across the room, near a side table with finger sandwiches and wine. Talzee stuck to her side of the room. For the better part of an hour, the two of them pretended to ignore each other, but for the occasional glance through the swirling couples on the dance floor. He struck her as a cocky rookie, at least as far as grappling went - she had bested him while in a sheath gown. (Which she was definitely never wearing to one of these things again, current fashion trend or not. It was just too hard to fight in one.)
He did, admittedly, have one advantage that Talzee did not: he could ask their target to dance.
The only name Talzee managed to glean from the gossip was Miss Rosaria. She was a Callegan woman LeBlanc had met on his latest government trip, but none of the other guests had heard that he’d be bringing a plus one until they arrived that night, late to dinner. She was a little too light-skinned for a Callegan, Talzee thought, and tall. She lingered on the edge of a group of married women who had been quick to take Talzee under their wings, clucking over her young, unmarried state and pointing out all the handsome men, married or not.
Their fierce backbiting was both amusing and terrifying - Talzee was absolutely shocked to hear some of their giggled stories. If she ever took another job among Erideen’s elite, she’d make sure to cultivate these women as sources. And then never leave their presence, for fear of what dangerous dirt they could dig up on her.
After an hour of watching Miss Rosaria and listening to the rumor mill, though, Talzee realized something that would blow the bastard’s advantage right out of the water.
She stood at the table with a pair of her new best friends, who were both occupied with pointing out to Talzee every available (or unavailable) man that passed by (their marriage status didn’t seem to matter). Talzee showed her disinterest quite clearly, but that only seemed to make the women more and more determined to hook her up. As the song ended, Talzee hastily glanced away when Rosaria, for the third time that evening, caught her staring.
Talzee’s companions mistook the direction of her gaze, and giggled to each other. “Oh, here he comes, Miss Calry,” Seline said, nudging Talzee. “He must have caught you staring - oh, dear. What happened to your face, dear Tolien?”
Talzee sipped her drink in a very determined fashion as her newfound rival swaggered up to them, barely giving her a glance before grinning at Seline and her friend. He lied as easily as if the scratch across his face - now covered with a small bandage - wasn’t from Talzee’s attempt to stab his eye out.
“Oh, I took a quick walk through the garden and got caught by a tree branch,” he said, leaning over to give Seline a quick peck on the cheek. “It’s always nice to see you, Lady Moriana.”
“Such a shame,” clucked Seline’s friend. Tolien - Talzee doubted that was his real name - bore with patience the fuss the older ladies made over him. Talzee ignored him and watched a young couple navigate the dance floor in a convoluted pattern. She reluctantly dragged her attention back to the group when Seline said, “Oh, dear Tolien, you absolutely must meet Miss Calry. Her uncle is a cousin to Oligarch Borza.”
“Oh, Miss Calry, is it?” Tolien offered his hand. Talzee promptly took a hors d'oeuvre off the table so that her hands were full. “Nice to finally have a name to put with that pretty face.”
Seline latched onto all the possible implications of that sentence like a buzzard on a dead horse. “Ohh,” she said eagerly, “have the two of you met?”
Talzee forced a smile. “Briefly, although we didn’t catch each other’s names.”
“No,” Tolien said, tucking his hands into his pockets, “there wasn’t quite time for proper introductions.”
Seline’s friend hmmed, smiling wickedly at the both of them. “The gardens - is that where you disappeared to earlier, Miss Calry?”
“You caught me.”
“Oh, but we should give the two of you some time to be acquainted,” Seline decided, and much to Talzee’s relief, hustled her friend away. Talzee dropped her smile like it were a nuclear bomb.
“I really regret not shooting you after all,” she informed Tolien.
He grinned, taking a glass of champagne from a passing server. “Most people do,” he said. “Making any progress, Miss Calry?”
“Are you here to brag?” Talzee returned, and noticed just the tiniest flash of frustration cross Tolien’s face. She grinned into her wine.
“It may take some time,” he admitted.
“You’ve danced with her three times.”
“Well, she seemed pretty eager to get away from her date.”
Talzee couldn’t blame her. LeBlanc was a grasping old man who was embarrassingly desperate for a sign of attention from any woman. Rosaria hadn’t sat down once since Talzee’s return to the ballroom, and was now being twirled about by a distinguished military officer. She looked just as interested in him as she had both with LeBlanc and Tolien, which was to say, not very.
“I could barely get her to say three words to me,” Tolien huffed. “She acts like she’s dancing with a lamp.”
“Maybe,” Talzee said, with barely-contained glee, “she doesn’t like bruised fruit.”
The acid glare he sent her could have melted steel. Talzee twirled the stem of her glass between her fingers and pretended that she hadn’t said a single word. “So have you come to surrender, then?”
This time, Talzee was the one to catch Rosaria looking at her over the shoulder of her current dance partner. Tolien, pouting into his champagne, didn’t notice. That lack of observance certainly explained his failure, Talzee thought.
“Hardly,” Tolien scoffed. “But I don’t see you getting any closer.”
The song ended. Talzee sipped the last of her wine, and then handed her empty glass to Tolien with a sweet smile. “Watch and learn.”
Whirling around, Talzee produced her knife, just in time to see the bastard point a gun at her.
“21 foot rule,” she blurted out.
“What?” he said, but by then, Talzee was twisting his wrist to the side and throwing a fist at his neck. He managed to wriggle enough in her grip that her punch glanced off his collarbone instead, grabbing her other hand before she could break his wrist. The gun clattered to the floor. Instead of giving him the chance to grab for it, Talzee rammed him back into the closet.
He tripped over something, and took Talzee with him as he fell backwards. She grunted as she landed on top of him, and cursed her slim-skirted dress. It prevented her from straddling the bastard properly, and he rolled the two of them over until he was on top.
“Someone’s gonna hear us,” he hissed at Talzee. He pinned one of her arms to the ground, and used his other elbow to block her attempt at stabbing him with her knife.
“Not my fault you’re trying to rape me,” she snapped back.
“Now, that’s unfair - holy mother -”
He recoiled, hand to his cheek where Talzee had scored a shallow cut. She punched him, awkwardly, in the gut, and bucked the man off.
The two of them tumbled out of the closet. Somehow, over the ensuing scuffle, they both heard the same thing; footsteps outside on the hardwood floors of the hallway. They froze, Talzee with one knee on the man’s chest while he was trying to push her off (in a very inappropriate place), as someone said, “You hear something?”
“No.”
“Think it was from in here.”
“LeBlanc’s room? We just passed him and his plus one.”
Someone jiggled the handle. “Locked,” they muttered.
“Could get the key from the shift boss,” the other person suggested - they were likely the mansion’s security. Talzee bit her lip and glared down at the man - this was all his fault. She would have been gone by now if he hadn’t insisted on interrupting her.
After another moment of silence, the first voice muttered, “It’s probably nothing. You go check the ballroom and see if LeBlanc’s still out there, I’ll just patrol the hall for a few more minutes.” There was the crackle of a radio, and the sound of two pairs of footsteps walking away. Talzee waited a moment longer.
Then, she forced out between her teeth, “Get your hand off my breasts.”
“No,” he said flatly. “You’ll stab me in the face again.” He currently had her knife hand trapped, and in all likelihood, was guessing the truth. They were both in an incredibly painful position, though, and Talzee blew hair out of her face.
“What are you even doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m going to assume the same thing as you,” he retorted. “Though our target’s walked right out the door.”
“I’m not here for some stupid rock.”
He narrowed his eyes at her - they were a green-hazel, and even in the middle of fighting, had the look of a sleepy cat. “If you’re looking for the Friezburg codes, then yeah, you’re here for the stupid rock.”
Talzee groaned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Let me up and I’ll tell you.”
“Do I look stupid to you?” Talzee shifted slightly, trying to pull her knife hand out of his grip. His fingers tightened around her wrist. “You started this.”
He pursed his lips. “Well, one of us needs to end it - no not by killing me,” he yelped, as she finagled another slim knife from her dress. He stopped pushing at her chest (finally) and blocked her with his elbow. “True, all right, truce!”
“Oh, for - you can’t call truce!” Talzee hissed at him.
“We can’t just stay here forever,” he hissed back. “Someone’s going to come in here eventually. Let me up, I won’t hurt you.”
Talzee snorted. “You weren’t hurting me in the first place,” she informed him, but slowly, slowly, leaned back. The man, with a wary look, finally let go of her wrist, and she sat back the rest of the way, still on his abdomen.
“You have to actually get off me,” he said with a nervous grin, rubbing at his face. Blood - not much - came away on his gloved fingers, and he grimaced. Talzee spotted the gun - it was somewhere under the desk, and after eyeing the man for a moment, she purposefully planted a knee in his solar plexus before rolling off and grabbing the pistol.
He swore and curled around his gut for a moment, while she stood up and frowned at her dress. She was pretty sure she had torn some seams during their fight, and she discreetly rubbed her breasts, aching both from the tight clothes and the fight.
“Now explain,” she ordered him, pointing the gun at the man as he slowly rolled to his feet. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“You first,” he retorted, eyeing the gun, and Talzee sighed in exasperation.
He had already admitted to being here for the Friezburg codes. Talzee wasn’t surprised by that; people had been after those for months now. All she needed to figure out now was how badly this guy wanted to get the codes, and if she would have to leave a body here in the room after all.
That would complicate things.
“Just - stand over there,” she decided, waving him over to a corner. She moved over to the desk, scanning the top papers again before trying the drawers.
He rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, plucking a tissue from the box on the corner of the desk and holding it to his cheek. “I told you,” he said, as Talzee continued her careful rifling through the desk. “It’s all in the sapphire. Look, the guy just left his keys on the desk, use those.”
There was precious little else to check, but Talzee was loath to admit that the strange man might be right. She grabbed the keys anyway and opened the locked drawers, but aside from a few stray papers and a bottle of rank cologne, there was nothing to find.
“In the sapphire?” she finally sighed, and the man nodded.
“Probably,” he said, temporizing his words with a shrug. “It’s the best lead I have, anyway. Especially since you obviously didn’t find anything.”
“And now that lady has it.” Talzee rubbed her face. “Fantastic.”
