No Mourners, No Funerals

47.✓

"Northwest from here," Jason said simply. "Now can I have your name?"

Perfect. Zhulik noticed how annoyingly one eyebrow had a single hair out of place. 

"You can call me Zhulik." They said. "Does this gang run any sort of business? A fishery? Something? I'll need to find my information somewhere, cause honestly I only trust selected words from your mouth."

Jason nodded. "The gang owns a bar and some sort of club. One of the members, Inej Ghafa, owned a ship that she used to destroy slave ships." 

Jason clenched his jaws remembering a good number of them were his. His face softened into a small smile. "It's destroyed now, of course."

Zhulik gave a tense nod. "Give me two weeks," They said picking the kruge up. 

"If I find you or your cronies are watching me, forget the job. I'll do things my way and if you disagree you'll have to find another person to do your job."

He nodded. "If you do see any of my spiders stalking around they aren't for you but for the gang." He stood up and reached out for Zhulik's hand. "Good making business with you Zhulik."

Zhulik looked the man in the eye and shook his hand, unintentionally revealing the moon tattoo on their wrist. "Fine."

Jason noticed the tattoo but paid no mind to it at the moment. He sat back down in his chair and continued to pet his cat.

Zhulik turned and left the room. They went out onto the bustling city. Looking around they notice most of these citizens carried weapons, so out of logic they bought two slender daggers. 

In case something got out of hand, although they doubted it. When they sat down at the bar, they ordered a shot of tequila and a vodka cherry. Time for some celebrating.

Kwet balanced carefully on the roofs of 5th harbor as she kept an eye out for any suspicious figures with palm tattoos. She as usual remained in the shadows, her tall frame easily hidden. 

Her eyes darted from person to person, looking at their hands for any clues as to whether or not they were part of the new gang. 

Kwet's hand remained at one of her axes, just in case someone decided to surprise the native girl.

She spotted a person waltz into a bar, she hadn't ever seen them around, maybe they were part of the Ferals.

***

Vlam clicked the door shut behind him, and proceeded to lock it. He supposed it didn't matter very much, considering where he was. He instantly began to pace, while Oiche lay on his pillows. The teen assumed he was just out of the gang, and would probably have to take some sort of beating. Maybe even lose an eye with Kaz's reputation. 

He scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. When it came to Oiche, he was always quick to violence. He wasn't able to count the number of fights he'd started due to something happening to the dog. On one occasion, a group of older teens thought it'd be funny to take the six-month-old pup and try to throw her into the river near the town. Vlam was thankfully nearby when the kids started yammering about it and followed them to see if they had his beloved pet. 

They did, and he was so blinded by fury he broke all of their noses and shoved most of them into that very river. He also took a substantial beating, a good amount of his ribs were broken, as well as his nose. He couldn't see out of his left eye for weeks. 

Now, the nineteen-year-old had screwed himself over. So he leaned against a wall, and prepared himself for the worst, while a foolish hope burned inside him.