foundations of decay; k. brekker

1. killjoys.

Nastya knew things would be entertaining whenever Jesper made trouble on her shifts. As a bartender for the Crow Club, she had a front-row seat to all the squawking of the pigeons as kruge traded hands, fortunes made and lost within a second. Chatter had become second nature to hear as she mixed drinks and cleaned glasses.

So she paused when she sensed the coin, setting down the glass she was cleaning. Zemeni coin was heavier than that.

Nastya had a system for dealing with counterfeit coin. When she had first joined, Kaz had taught her differences in the various currencies that passed through Ketterdam, and she was able to pick up on particular tells of certain coins.

Such as this man's shoddy Zemeni coins. The bag was too light as he tossed it to the dealer- Floris or Florens or whoever– "Darling, please. Drinks here. Drinks all round here, please! Hey, you take Zemeni coin, yes?"

She caught Jesper's eye, and simply nodded, spinning the clean glass counterclockwise. He grinned, and she sighed.

This was gonna be interesting.

"Let me see that." Jesper called to the dealer. He caught the tossed bag, taking the fake coin out of the bag.

"The Lucky Nine casino up the block has had trouble with counterfeit coin lately." He examined the coin, a knowing grin on his face. "Heavy, but brittle."

The pigeon spluttered, face red. "Oh come on, I've been here for hours. My money is good, no?"

"Zemeni coin can take a bullet. But the knockoff..."

With a flourish of his beloved revolvers, Jesper flipped the coin into the air. A single gunshot confirmed what Nastya had already told him. Jesper grinned, clicking his teeth.

"Busted." He grinned, blowing the smoke away.

"What does that prove?" the man argued. Marcel sighed, draining the rest of his glass before going off to remove the man from the Crow Club.

He reached for the protesting man and lead him out ("Hey! Wait! What are you doing? Get off me!") as a silver-tipped cane fell onto the man's winnings, interrupting a grinning Jesper who just so happened to be reaching for his earnings.

"No loud noises at the table, Jesper," warned Kaz Brekker. "You'll scare off the pigeons."

Jesper at least looked sheepish as he stood up. "Wouldn't want that, boss."

"Shouldn't you be on the door?"

"Yeah, right away, boss." groaned Jesper.

Kaz nodded to Nastya to follow him, so she did as such – tossing the bartender's rag to Sofie with a two-fingered salute. She silently walked behind Kaz, only for them both to be stopped by Rotty.

"Early for action, innit, Kaz?"

"What do you want, Rotty?" Kaz stated, rolling his eyes.

"Someone stole a DeKappel from a merch's private residence last night," said Rotty, seemingly oblivious to both Kaz and Nastya's annoyance.

"Is that so?"

"It's a painting. A landscape of Ravka. The Fold. Oil on parchment." he rambled. She tried to ignore the pang of homesickness for her long-gone home.

"I know who DeKappel is." stated Kaz, voice drier than the heat of the Zemeni sun.

"Well, he don't do nudes so I never heard of him."

"You're disgusting."

"And you're Ravkan. Shouldn't it matter to you?"

She just sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night alone, annoyance almost tangible.