parasite
@yviga
TWO DAYS BEFORE DOBS
It's business as usual in the Capital: a handful of hours spent at the city center keeps him equally occupied with inquiries and currency exchange from passersby. People and their devotion to all things auspicious have befuddled at him at times, not for the inclination to it, but for the kind of signs they seek. It's enough to sell enough of the silk-woven amulets, moonstones, and delicately-drawn figurines.
The last person is trickling out with a vial of jasmine oil when Jin takes one look at his spread and decides to call it a day. He turns on his heel to grab his satchel by the straps behind him, unaware of the straggler that walks up until she says hello, and then he turns around to greet her in return.
Yes, what it is that you need? Jin wagers it’s something along the lines of the typical demand—talismans, ornaments, etcetera, but then she answers with a request so strange the man has to take a minute to think.
“A rat?” His voice is deceptively neutral, deliberately slow in case of any follow-up on her end. Already his brain tries to fill in the blanks: rat hair, rat figurine, horoscopes for the Year of the Rat. Still confused, his eyes return to the stand and lo and behold, there’s a sleeping rat right next to the last caged cricket.
Ah.
He lifts a finger and points. “This one?”
