Training Montage, Rogue Edition

He had the agility and dexterity as a dancer. Now was the time to put those talents to use in a different direction. He went through his wardrobe, skipping the whites in favor of grays and blacks, going for more skin coverage than usual. Casual enough to look less suspicious if he is noticed in the open, but dark enough to be useful in full stealth. Or at least that's what he hoped. He was new to this, so he didn't want to make too many presumptions. He had a proper incantation and the Silent Jar for equipment, but he didn't want to rely on magic for everything. With how quickly he burned through his resources before, he wanted to save as much as he could for emergency troubleshooting.

With Articulous, he had a much-needed connection with the underworld and a source of information. Though the man had been generous in giving them a job to make up for the incident in the Bazaar, The Ko made a note not to read too much into that. Lots of people are in for selfish reasons, so he'd better stay on his toes as he learns. In some ways, it was the social maneuvering that was more daunting, since it was an unknown. In Shadow, there was generally organized crime that held local monopolies and didn't take well to independent thieves. Before he started treading on toes, he'd need to know who'd toes are out there.

Ezra had little idea of what to expect with this particular outing, but a lack of knowledge had never daunted her before; she’d focused on dressing comfortably, though her Chuck Taylors were ever present. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a silver bracelet, slim enough to make no sound and tight enough on her wrist to stay put. She’d spent only a little time considering which resources to bring, eventually pocketing two that felt right. The rest would sort itself out, as it so often did.

As she headed out from the Manor, her thoughts tapped into the Noӧsphere. With a few shuffles and reaches, and just one contortion, she brought together all the names of those who’d agreed to meet up that day.

'Roll call.'

A response comes in: "Ko, The Ko, here. Glad I'm not the only one interested in this 'career change.' It'll take me a bit to get over there, since I'm in Riveriver, though."

He boards the train, taking a seat as its caterpillar legs start inching it along the track, gradually picking up speed.

Soft curls of steam rose from the teacup loosely caged between Alemi's slim fingers as he heard the familiar voices of Ezra and Ko interrupt his current thoughts. For a second, he hesitated, staring down into the remnants of his drink, the glassy surface of pale green reflecting back and beneath it the swirl of a few scattered grains of silt-fine grit which had escaped during the steep. This impending summoning had preoccupied him all morning, and when it finally had come, he found himself caught in the same indecision.

His instincts recoiled at the idea of tangling himself any further into Articulous' network. Alemi had not particularly liked the man, his manipulations which had landed them into hot water with the gerent and his response had been nothing but presumptions that he had the means of smoothing the rippling effects of his disruptive acts. Yet, this excursion was not of Articulous' making, and it promised something that Alemi actually valued:and education.

His uncle had always been a man who emphasized the pursuit of it, generously peppering Alemi's childhood with lessons that spanned an infinite variety of subjects. To broaden one's skillset was to be of better service. Another tool to be added to the belt. Such things could be the fine line, the deciding factor, to sway a situation into one's favour. But the argument for either side could continue indefinitely. Alemi felt once again the pang of his Uncle Stellan's absence, wished for his confident guiding hand whether the risk was worth the price. But his uncle was not here. He was still missing, still without sign if he had even returned after the war.

Time to make a choice. Alemi drew a breath.

"Alemi, here. I'm on my way."

Adra lay on her back on the sofa, one leg draped off the side and her foot tapping on the edge of an ancient rug. She had a jazz record blaring from her stereo across the room, and as she tapped along to the music, she watched an unfamiliar grey cat tightrope-walk along the flowerbox outside her living room window. She didn't remember ever seeing this particular cat before, but it certainly seemed familiar enough to navigate the various ledges and plants out there.

She was trying to decide whether to invite the cat inside when she heard the voices of her friends threading through the music. Adra told herself she hadn't made up her mind, but she had packed her bag hours ago, and it hung now on the coat rack by the door, the mouth hanging slightly open as if to ask a question. When Alemi's reply faded, Adra rolled up onto her knees on the couch.

She remembered Alemi mentioning his uncle being missing, and then Kenza had said something about a sister... ? Anyway, it had made her feel that familiar hollow ache, and she wondered if maybe Alemi's uncle could tell her something about her own family. She had nothing to remember them by, except the peculiar feeling of realizing a space was newly empty without being able to remember what had filled it.

Adra got up and slipped on her sneakers, pulled on her jacket, and draped the worn leather bag across her body. The cat watched her but didn't make a move for the door, so she closed and locked it behind herself. "I'm headed out now, guys. See you soon," she said.

The Ko smiled, glad he's got some moral support in the endeavor. Maybe he could coax some of them to join in on his ambitions of being Satyrine's Robin Hood while they're in on it. There was always a gulf between the rich and poor in the Actuality, and upon returning from Shadow, he had hoped that was one of the oppressive illusions that merely colored his memories. But no, that was the Shadow's reflection of reality. He had largely accepted his role of starving artist in Shadow, and had come to realize that was the life of so many people, with or without art. He was by no means wealthy, but he had been comfortable in his life, especially after becoming a Weaver.

He stopped himself from continuing the introspective rant. He's heading toward the training grounds to learn, and he needs to focus on that before working out what he's going to attempt in the long run.

[Sooth card: Inevitable Cataclysm]

It was Breme who arrived first at the makeshift training ground: Breme with his grigs and his small, quick hands, Breme with his ill-fitting clothes with far too many hidden folds and pockets. The boy flashed a toothy grin when he saw the small crew of vislae approach. Articulous himself was nowhere to be found. But then, Articulous might have been anywhere -- Fartown was bustling, the streets a flurry of red falling leaves and milling beings all busy with their various forms of work and play.

"You lot again," Breme said with a laugh. A grig stepped out from behind him. Its bottle-green wings fluttered as it raised its forelegs to the bowstring of its battered brown fiddle. "Artie says you didn't get enough the first time around. You want another taste, eh? That true?"

The Ko nodded, smirking, "The skills seem appropriate to some things I'm planning, and I figure I've got good natural agility. Just need to keep my flamboyance in check... Unless I'm playing the role of diversion." He noddeed to the grig as well, wondering if it was the same one he danced around during the juggling act. Looking back to Breme, he asked, "So, where do we start?"

Anything that got her one step closer to the demon Articulous had mentioned was a task worth taking on, in Ezra's mind. She found herself mirroring Breme's expression, though memories of how this boy's actions had affected Kenza tempered her smile. She slid her hands into her pockets, keeping the few belongings on her person close.

She shrugged at Breme's question. While this meeting was them continuing to reap the benefits of "Artie's" idea of reparations, she didn't see any flaws in the idea. The more she learned, the better she'd might be able to deal with the beings her order sought communication with.

"What he said," Ezra said, one brow rising as she needed in the Ko's direction. She felt uneasy about giving this boy -- if he was in fact a boy at all -- more details. He probably -- no, definitely -- knew more than all of them combined, whether about this situation or something more.

Adra watched the grig as she listened to the boy. Hands in her jacket pockets, she pulled her coat closer around her. She felt as much as saw Ezra closing off toward the boy, and Adra didn't blame her. She looked back at Breme, met his smirk with one of her own. "I was bored," she said. "Thought I might learn a new skill or two."

Adra wasn't sure how much she could learn from Breme or the training about whatever Articulous had in store for them, but with the apparently wide variety of interests Articulous had, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe this could set her on her own path of discovery - who even was she anymore?

For a moment, Alemi's gaze lingered on Adra, then flickered between his other companions, Ezra and Ko, before resting on the boy, who faced them with such a brazen smile. Whether merely the result of twisted sense of humour or machinations of more devious intent, Alemi found he could not shake the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't just coincidence that Breme, whose sticky fingers had first dragged them down this troublesome rabbit hole, should also turn out to be their teacher. It felt like another sentence in a story, another stone added to a foundation, another scrap of evidence to further indicate their guilt should the gerent ever hear about this particular encounter.

He could still leave. Yet, Alemi found the idea of abandoning the others unpleasant. Even outside the promise he had once made as a child to his mother to watch out for Adra, he'd not forgotten that the others had shown kindness in concern over his missing uncle. He had the inkling that they would likely help him with it if he could find it in himself to trust them enough to ask. Again, his deep blue eyes were drawn to study the others.

In for a penny, in for a pound. And in truth, he was curious. He could taste the crispness of the open air, feel the first sparks of excitement pulse in his veins. The tension once woven in the sharp angle of shoulders eased slightly.

"So," Alemi said, finding a note of playful interest in his voice. "What's lesson number one?"

"First," Breme said, holding up a grimy index finger, "you're gonna learn how to find your marks. You gotta learn how to find the right ones and not become one, yourself." The grig behind Breme turned his bowstring on his fiddle, coaxing from the instrument a series of sounds almost like laughter. Breme's smile didn't waver. His hand turned, finger pointing down at the dirt beneath their feet.

"Any of you hunt? You know how to track?" He studied each face, nodding as they responded in turn. "Look. Deeper footprints, heavier weight. So if the tracks don't match the weight, somebody's carryin' somethin'. Maybe somethin' you want." He slipped his dust-covered hands into his pockets once more. "Watch their faces. Their posture. Who looks like they don't wanna be followed. Who looks like a mooncalf. Or a whole herd of 'em." Breme laughed outright then; the look on his face made clear he had thought then that this motley crew looked like the latter, and that his opinion in that regard had not changed.

"Somebody on this block is carrying a wicked key made of iron. Whoever brings it back wins the first lesson. And maybe even a prize."

The Ko nodded at the instructions, "So, is this all arranged, somehow, or are we actually working in the field?" He realized this could be trouble if Breme was just letting them run wild on a neighborhood without prior experience. He had been expecting something like locksport or some kind of stealth tag game, but it's looking increasingly like the school of hard knocks. It would also be a way to weed out anyone having second thoughts or anyone who's clumsy to the point of liability.

"That would be reassuring information," Alemi agreed, relieved that Ko was taking a beat to better understand the situation. But Alemi doubted their childlike instructor would be impressed by such inquiries. No doubt dismissing need for such context as unnecessary when he seemed to delight in his own cleverness and triumphs with little concern to what effect they might make upon others. Certainly, Breme had made no secret of how little he thought of them during their last encounter. It was safe to say the feeling was mutual, and Alemi was no more fond of this particular lesson either. The idea of such opportunistic thievery struck him as boorish. To acquire something for which you had need was one thing, but to take simply for the sake of taking, or to turn a small profit was entirely another. Displeasure tasted like blood flush over his tongue, the sudden rush of metallic tang flooding the back of his throat that he quickly swallowed down.

Yet, he could understand the value in what little guidance Breme had thus far offered. Deep blue eyes strayed briefly toward the block that Breme had indicated, skimming over the lively thrum of pedestrians, curious if he might notice something in the heft of their footfalls, the set of their jaws, the movement of their hands. There, across the street, Alemi noticed a women, who slipped elegant white fingers into her skirt pocket every few minutes. It was possible she had something important there, whose tactile presence she sought to reassure her. A few feet away a different man, nervously glanced all about him. He too, could carry something of value.

No, Breme's advice to observe carefully was not without merit.

While Ezra found the Ko's attempt to extract further details admirable, she felt it was ultimately a lost cause.

"I doubt he's going to give us a cheat sheet," she commented, watching Alemi watch those around them. This was, after all, a test -- and having her hand held was never one of her strong suits. She kept her voice low as she sketched out a simple plan.

"The Ko, you mentioned being a distraction earlier. Drawing everyone into one place would make this easier, wouldn't it? And then the rest of us can spread out. Keep our eyes peeled."

The Ko smiled, "I can be rather eye-catching when I want to be. Got a particular location in mind?" He looked towards the Grig, "Any way I can convince you to provide a bit of music?"

Adra had questions of her own, but she didn't see the point asking them just yet. She looked around, following Alemi's gaze over the nearby crowd of -- unsuspecting? -- pedestrians. Out of habit, she found herself looking through the crowd for a stray cat. There was always one somewhere, always lurking in her periphery. Sometimes they seemed to be watching her, sometimes ignoring her, but she supposed that was always true of any cat. They didn't seem to be reporting back on her to anyone, so she'd started feeling almost comforted by their presence. She found the cat of the hour, a bright white with a brushstroke black mustache. It was trotting along almost carelessly in the crowd, but Adra realized it kept turning and coming back, turning and coming back, always at the same interval. Strange...

Ezra's assumption was correct; Breme confirmed it with a wink and a flash of one grubby finger-gun. The grig seemed more inclined to offer its assistance, at least when asked so directly. It hopped closer to The Ko, quickly tuned its strings, and began to play a lively jig. The dying sunlight caught its green wings, making them gleam like polished emeralds. A few heads turned, here and there, and vislae gave the creature a wider berth, lest it follow one of them home to fill their space with raucous noise. A few Nons stopped, though, toes tapping to the beat. Breme backed away, waving as he slipped into the throng.

"I'll be at Cafe/Bar," Breme called. "Bring me the wicked key before it switches back to Bar."

Three hours until nightfall. Three hours to find their mark and procure the wicked key. It would have to be enough.

The Ko began his jig, matching the tune, weaving his threads to enhance the spectacle: Grace from Wind to enhance the physical performance and Mystery from The Woods to pull in the curious. He had performed similar weaves on stage to lend his acts that certain something to draw people back for further performances. This time, though, rather than losing himself in the rhythm, he keeps an eye open on the crowd and his accomplices' activities. A different application of playing to the audience, but the core idea remained the same. Draw the eyes, so those backstage can work their own magic unnoticed.

It wasn't long before those scattered around them began to cluster at the beginnings of a show. Even those who hadn't been nearby before turned their heads, interested in the twin sounds of music and amused delight.

Those Alemi had spotted before remained in place -- the woman, the man -- were fixed in the same places where they'd first been spotted. Both stared at the sudden appearance of the entertainment. The woman seemed more taken aback than the man, as though the sudden distraction was an unwelcome one.

Ezra watched the Ko dance off, impressed. For all her talents, those skills were certainly something she would never possess, but then again, she'd been blessed differently. Casting her gaze continuously toward the planned performance, as though she were surprised by it much like everyone else around her, she slowly made her way to the back of the crowd. From there, she'd have a better vantage point to see if someone was worth investigating further.

She glanced at Adra's position, giving her two swift nods to the opposite side of the crowd; a suggested movement, rather than commanded direction.

There were a scattered few, who had not yet been coaxed in to join the audience now encircling the Ko, whose elegant movements drew in the eye like dizzyingly hypnotic pattern of an endless spiral. For a moment, Alemi took his place there to observe from a distance, examining the group of spectators as a whole and more carefully studying those left behind. It had not escaped him that the two he had initially noticed were momentarily frozen in their place, but even so, their attention was divided, unable to completely untangle from the web of music and dance that had captivated so many within the vicinity.

The anxious man, once again with his nervous twisting of fingers and darting eyes, had yet to move, but then almost as suddenly as the grig had broken the stillness of the day with the frenetic swell of its see-saw notes, the man's gaze seem to lock on someone in the crowd and his whole demeanor changed.

"Lucy, there you are. I told you not to wander off," he sighed loudly, heading towards a young girl, who was eagerly jumping so that she might catch a better glimpse of the grig over the broad figure of taller folk.

The woman too eventually sought refuge with the rest, once she noticed her dwindling surroundings, fabric swishing over her ankles as she crossed the street. It was a split-second decision that Alemi made to follow her, his trajectory at such an angle that they would intersect. All the while as he walked, Alemi kept his chin inclined in Ko's direction as though he simply could not take his eyes off the performance, entranced, tracking her only from the corner of his vision. In truth, he could feel that tug of the magical weave beckoning him in its direction that it almost came as a surprise when his shoulder clipped the woman's.

But it was just enough to disorient her, her eyes blinking up at him with some confusion, and for an instant, they engaged in their own dance of distraction and graceful maneuvering as he helped right her and murmured an apology for his carelessness. His fingers swept the side of her skirt, just close enough to find her pocket and locate the item, though the edges of metal almost hooked fabric upon his withdraw. It was, in all truth, a rather clumsy retrieval perhaps but in the tumultuous chaos of of song and sea of jostling observers, it was not enough to ensnare her attention. Alemi caught the glint of gold in his peripheral view. No, this was not the desired goal. Just some talisman that he let slip from the hand, falling behind her, the sound of small object hitting the ground lost in the din of the music.

"Did you drop this?" He stooped down quickly to retrieve the pilfered item and stuff it back against her palm. "Again, I'm so sorry for running into you." With that, Alemi wove deeper into the crowd, hoping that the others might have better luck in finding the right target.

Adra caught Ezra's glance with a curt nod. She trailed around the edge of the crowd, keeping an eye out for her friends and maintaining the appearance of watching the show. She'd never seen The Ko move like that, and honestly it wasn't hard to seem like she was entranced. She'd thought herself a reasonably capable dancer, but nothing like this.

She caught a glimpse of Alemi from her perch at the outer edge of the crowd. He bumped into a woman, bent down, and handed something to her. Not the mark, then. Time, Adra knew, would run out faster than any of them expected it to. So she thought back to what she remembered of her Shadow days. Most people would have called her an art thief then, but she preferred to think of it as recovering stolen goods. If she didn't think too much about who might own the wicked key they'd been sent for, she could almost pretend this was the same thing.

On the edge of her vision, not quite halfway across the growing crowd, a tall thin man with too many eyes and not enough face was weaseling his way backwards, out of the crush of people. He was moving slowly, carefully, trying not to disturb anyone around him. His head was still but his eyes roved the crowd, scanning for something or someone he seemed increasingly anxious about finding. Adra stood a little on her toes, hoping to meet either Ezra or Alemi's eyes through the crowd.

Instead, the thin man was first to catch Adra's gaze. Two eyes narrowed at the sight of her. Two more, then four, then six, began to move independently, following her gaze to determine her cohort. The eyes that spotted them fixed upon them, one eye per vislae, following their movements. Then his head ducked beneath the crowd, but any who had seen him could still feel his eyes upon them, heavy as a tangible touch. His presence crept closer, moving slick and silent as a serpent.

Overhead, clouds began to gather, threatening rain.

In the thick of observers, where some stood stone-stiff and others jostled and shuffled and shoved, Alemi found himself almost guided through the cluster of people as if by an unseen current.  He didn't immediately notice Adra, though she stood pushed forth from the flat of her feet, neither did he feel that weight of the stranger's narrowing stare, tracking his movements.  Alemi's view was obstructed in a lattice veil of bodies with only glimpses to be caught between all manner of angles cut by the lines of limbs.  It took a moment to find pause enough to orient himself, and when he had, he sought out his companions.

But it was the man he found first, his willowy figure head and shoulders above the rest, his sharply boned face set with the multitude of eyes, all clustered between the original sockets like the compound vision on an insect.  Alemi felt all the force of the man's gaze then, the unease it evoked running through him from the rush through his veins to the sharpening thuds of his heartbeat.  Again, he looked for his friends, only eventually realizing that they were all under the man's unending watch. The first droplet of rain struck his cheek as he remained locked in place, awaiting the slightest clue that any of his friend's might be in danger. His attention flickered from Ezra and Adra at the opposite sides of the crowd, skimmed over Ko as he moved between.

Another squall of bodies held Ezra's interest as the scene evolved around her, without her notice. By the time she'd looked back, the threads of the event were too obvious to miss -- this figure, almost at the center of their lopsided pentacle, picking them out one by one.

Well. One always has to work with what they're given, and Ezra wasn't one to shirk away from a potential opportunity.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Ezra started to push her way through the crowd. She made sure to keep looking, though this time she added an intensity behind her actions. A freneticism as though a growing concern was dawning on her and becoming all too real.

She reached the many-eyed man quickly, and waved at him to garner (hopefully) his complete attention.

"Please! Please, can you help? I can't find her anywhere!"

There wasn't time to send a message to the rest of the group, but Ezra hoped that they would be able to understand her intentions regardless. Either she could at least provide enough of a distraction for them to evaluate this new option and assess where he stood in their test, or at least pass over him and get rid of the obstruction he could present.

Adra's blood chilled and her skin felt heavy. She wanted a bath, to wash away the man's gaze. The rain started to fall on her as if it heard her thoughts, and as she searched the crowd for her friends she heard Ezra's voice above the fray. She couldn't see the thin man anymore, but she realized the feeling of his lingering gaze was fading, sliding off her body as his attention moved elsewhere. Fuck. She wished she could read Ezra's thoughts. Without waiting for another signal, Adra slipped away from her position in the crowd.

No one else seemed to have noticed the thin man; while a few people glanced Ezra's direction, most were still entranced by the grig and The Ko. Adra moved along the rear of the crowd, searching for where Alemi might be able to exit the crush of bodies.

The Ko continued his dance, looking over to see Ezra approaching a many-eyed man with a look of desperation. He surmised that the man was observing and probably the changery visit to improve his vision for his job's sake. No way to figure out if this involved legal authority or if he was working with Articulous and Breme to observe and evaluate the group's efforts. Another possibility was to test if we were watching our backs, rather than simply fixated on finding targets. In either case, the Ko had his part to play and had to continue the effort.

He looked up at the sky, realizing that the fascination of his weave-enhanced dance probably couldn't overcome the annoyance of rain. He could weave Weather from Wind and... He felt the limitations of his threads. The Woods had an absence of Light, so he couldn't shift the weather to sunny. He might be able to accelerate it with Growth. Maybe by weaving with Nature, he could get a weave "generic" enough to simply reset the weather to cloudy.

He looked back to Ezra and the many-eyed man, breaking up his gaze with some twirls to avoid staring. Whatever happened there would probably determine his best course of action. A sudden downpour would make for a good distraction if she needed one. If she handled the situation, he could instead try to delay the rain.

Rain fell in fat droplets. It splashed onto the cobbles below them and collected in deep puddles between missing paving stones. It soaked their garments and made them heavy, weighing down pockets and hems.

One of the being's eyes moved to Ezra, regarding her with a piercing stare. The others remained on each of her counterparts, save one. The Ko's distraction proved fruitful in that the vislae before them did not seem to recognize The Ko as one of those he should have been observing. He let the song and dance go unattended while he tracked the movements of each of his pursuers.

"What," he hissed at Ezra, "are you looking for?"

Water splattered across her vision, and Ezra felt a thrill of fear electrify her form. The worry she’d been attempting to feign just a moment before became much more real, but she channeled it into her performance.

"My daughter," she said loudly; perhaps trying to overcome the inclement weather, but truly trying to subversively convey her plan to those who needed to know. "She ran off when the performance started. I thought – could you help? I don’t have … your abilities."

Ezra swallowed, letting the fright permeating her form fill every word and gesture to make it as convincing as possible. Regardless of whether she was appealing to the wrong sentiment or not, her main hope lay on the idea that her comrades weren’t too far away.

The strain in Ezra's voice would have been alarming if Alemi had been further away, if the span of distance between them had been enough to allow the drum of rainfall and the sway of music to completely drown out her words. But the handful of phrases Alemi could make out had been enough to sketch out the context of Ezra's intentions, and he kept his stride at an idling pace, one that wove him through the crowd in a manner that mimicked thoughtless meandering. Like Ko's, Ezra's act was a diversion, but this time with the intended audience of just one.

With the push of those surrounding him, Alemi let himself be steered so that his approach toward the man would come behind. Perhaps it would be enough to escape the stranger's seeking gaze, though he could still see one eye just on the periphery of that sharp, upper cheekbone. Yet, for the time, Ezra's performance held him, and he never turned his face away from hers. Alemi was close, then closer. Four feet away chiseled down to three. Each step pushed Ezra further into dangerous territory, but he had to trust her and hope he didn't fall short of hers. Since the man's appearance, tension clung to Alemi, like the chill wetness of rainfall, seeping down to settle deep against bone. But the clock was ticking and the crowd might start to dissipate if they thought the bad weather would linger.

Alemi slipped one hand forward, sliding between the frames of two bystanders, bringing the edges of fingertips just close enough to brush the man's back as one of the people standing between them moved so that he might mask it as their mistake. It was a long shot. An old trick his mother had once taught him, to open himself up to what was around him, to glimpse a bit of the world through different eyes. He had no control over what this grasp at understanding would tell him. But if he could manage some fragment of information that might give them a better sense of the situation, it would be worth it.

The knowledge unfurled in his thoughts, like the sweep of black ink bleeding into paper from pen tip as it sketched out the fluid strokes of cursive letters, and Alemi knew without a doubt that there were three wicked keys on this man.

Adra watched Alemi weaving through the crowd, closer and closer toward the many-eyed man. She cut into the edges of the crowd, making her way toward Alemi and hoping to provide him some cover to escape. Her vision slid out of focus, no longer looking at the space around her but the Space around her, the Time through which they all moved. Surely there was a way ... ? Adra weighed whether any advantage gained from a weave now would simply draw too much attention to Alemi and the others, and it didn't seem worth it. Not now.

The atmosphere around the man felt heavier, slicker, like rain mixed with oil. Adra drew as close as she dared, opening a small path in the crowd she planned to close behind Alemi.

The Ko looked up as the rain came down hard on its own initiative and the audience began expressing their disapproval. He saw Adra getting closer to the action, and figured she could probably use a distraction, herself. He looked to the crowd, "Here's a little experiment: an anti-rain dance!" He began an improvised dance, mentally reversing some traditional step orders, bringing out war fan, making cutting motions as he twirled. The motion of his casual clothes betrayed the fact that he wasn't actually rewinding time, but that was a detail for the observant to catch. He proceeded with his untested weave: Weather and Nature to reset the rain to merely cloudy. Experimentation was always risky, but improvisation was the key strength of Weaving.

He hoped he had at least drawn a few of the mystery man's many eyes in his direction with the announcement. Keeping the crowd around meant he had more to work with, along with plausible deniability for himself. He waited for the weather to change with both curiosity and dread.

The many-eyed man was not so easily distracted. They were given a reprieve in the form of the shifting crowd, who began to scatter as the rain continued to beat down. They raised umbrellas, ran beneath the awnings of storefronts, dipped into shops and coffeehouses for a moments' reprieve. A scattered few summoned flying thoughtforms or conjured floating stones to protect themselves from the elements. However they chose to do it, they sought refuge from the wind and wet, and left the motley crew more exposed than before.

Annoyed -- though by what precisely, none of them could tell -- the being turned its attention largely to Ezra. "Your spawn is likely hiding," he said. "I'm told they're wont to do that. Ask your friends. You have enough of them here, I think." His eyes darted, landing on Adra. By some miracle no eyes alighted upon Alemi, who was now perhaps too close to be detected.

Adra fought the rising bile in her throat as the full force of the man's gaze hit her for the first time. Somehow she kept her stomach right side in, willing herself not to look at Alemi. Instead, she dragged her eyes away from the man to Ezra. "Ezra, I'm sorry, I've looked everywhere. I can't find her," Adra said, forcing all her discomfort into her voice. He couldn't possibly be buying this, but she was willing to take the knocks if it meant Alemi could find his mark and get out.

Adra's voice struck Ezra with true surprise; her heart was already sinking into the pit of her stomach at the many-eyed man's comment on her "friends." She let her shock appear on her face as she glanced at Adra, the motion allowing her to ignore Alemi's presence just behind the man, visible in her peripheral. As much as she wanted to get away from this man, and despite how much it seemed like they were failing at their sole task, she knew it was still too early to duck out.

"You didn't see a little girl? Short, black hair?" Ezra hoped her attempt to feign details was instead coming off as someone pulled between too many emotions at once, their mind unable to gather the scattered marbles of their thoughts. Her words sputtered out at the man, either uncaring of his disinterest and growing annoyance, or in spite of. "She's wearing a green dress, if that helps!"

The rain continued to soak her form, weighing her body down as much as her waning emotions clouded her thoughts.

Their cover was too quickly dispersing, even as the spill of rain began to ease from the thick grey of clouds lingering overhead at Ko's magical coaxing.  It was as if the initial strike of cool water on exposed skin had swept away the enchantment of the grig's music and Ko's fervent dance, broke the connection made and dulled the allure of siren song.  If they weren't careful, they would soon find themselves alone and all too obvious.  Nevertheless Alemi knew he couldn't leave yet when their task remained unfinished.  But exactly how to complete it was unclear.  The scrap of information he had managed to glean was far too little to go on. There was nothing to indicate where any key was being kept, and of equal importance, whether it would be the right key if he managed to find one.
Those sparse passing seconds that Alemi took to consider the next move felt like an eternity.  He only vaguely heard Adra's voice join Ezra's as he studied the sleek lines of the towering man a few feet in front of him. The tailored fit of clothes stretching down along an unnaturally long form were not the sort that lent themselves well to concealment, trouser pockets lying too flat to be anything but bare, but there was something in the way the cloth fell along the waistline that struck Alemi as uncharacteristic.  That could be something.  Alemi drew from within himself a spell that he hoped would add further clarity.  It escaped him in the murmur of lips, seeking, searching, sketching out  the invisible and the obscured. 

Alemi could see now that there was indeed nothing in those pockets, yet it was shocking how many keys could be hidden beneath the stranger's suit jacket, keys of all types, spanning the full rainbow in complexity of design.  There were six that hung toward the very edge of the back of the jacket, and at least one of them seemed to have all the intricacies of a wicked key.  It would need to be cut free, and Alemi hurried to retrieve a utility knife as unobtrusively as possible.  The last thing any of them needed was to be accused of trying to do violence.  With the small blade tucked against his palm, he followed the rhythm of the shifting crowd to get as close as he could from behind, cautiously lifting up the back flap of the man's jacket.  In the same fluid motion, the knife sliced free the first row of dangling keys that came into view, their shapes still only visible in the sparse lines drawn out from magic, and only taking solid form again as they fell into Alemi's awaiting grasp.

It was only as he withdrew his hand that he felt a sudden sharp sting on the side of it, only as the clothing slipped quietly back in place that he saw from the corner of his eyes what looked like the string, which had once held the keys in place, writhing, straining outward as if they sought to find their missing possessions,  Ignoring the flash of pain, he waited for the next shove of the restless audience to push him further away again, clutching six keys tightly in his fingers and hoping that soon they'd all be able to make their escape. 

The Ko breathed a sigh of relief as the rain began to ease up, but it was plain to see his dance wasn't working anymore. He walked towards some of the nearby awning to dry off, give himself time to think, and avoid too readily associating himself with the rapidly growing scene. His grig companion joined him. Hopefully, he would be written off as a street performer the group took advantage of, should the worst happen. He could probably hide in plain sight, but the rest wouldn't have it so easy.

The grig, no longer engaged in its concert, now found itself bored. And this, of course, simply would not do. It spied an inattentive vislae a few paces behind Alemi, and there it directed its bounding steps. The crowd cried out as it leapt over, around, and through them. For a moment it seemed it might bowl Alemi himself over. But it avoided him, intentionally or otherwise, and made for the young vislae now scampering away from Alemi and his cohort.

"No!" the young man shouted. He ran into a nearby alleyway, his voice echoing off the paving stones and brick, fading beneath his own footfalls and the ceaseless hopping of the grig. "No I just got rid of you lot! My house will be ruined! No more!"

The many-eyed man turned to watch the commotion, all eyes on what he assumed was yet another diversion, an attempt to part him from his belongings. He did not notice Alemi, now furtively slipping back into the crowd. But he felt himself lighter, and, blaming the grig and the vislae it followed, he moved toward the alleyway. His cruel gaze followed with him; all save two eyes, which cut back, affixing on Adra and Ezra.

The weight of that gaze lingered even after he had gone into the alleyway, after his footsteps had receded altogether and his presence was otherwise well and truly gone.

Like the rain that had cooled the earlier warmth of the day and painted the streets in darker shades with its wet, the eerie nature of those many eyes had somehow altered things, and even in their absence, did not let those who had once been the victims of their pinpoint focus shake so easily free from it. Alemi was still quite tangled in its hold. During all that time - upon the sudden launch of the grig shooting passed him, as the young man had departed in dismayed pursuit, when the thin man himself wheeled around with seeking gaze - Alemi had felt as though his breath had stuck in his throat, wary that the barest sound, even the quiet, rhythmic draw of air, might attract unwanted attention.

Yet, now he found himself shuffling alongside half a dozen others who idled down the street, feigning interest in a window display with his hands buried deep into the depth of his own jacket pockets. With a moment to pause and organize his thoughts, he clocked his companions, and then with a quick, sharp motion, as if to toss the fall of bangs out of his face, he inclined his chin sharply in the direction of the building a few doors down. Whether he'd succeeded or not, they needed somewhere to regroup. To check if he'd even snagged the right object, or make use of their remaining time to concoct a new plan. He could only hope they'd caught the cue.

Ezra stepped back from the many-eyed, thin man; the fright she showed on her face wasn't wholly feigned, and she reached out a hand to grasp Adra's wrist. The rain continued, pooling and running down Ezra's back, reawakening her to the situation at hand. He'd disappeared, as surely as one of her summonings -- there and gone, as if they had never been. Shaking herself mentally and slightly physically, she glanced at the woman standing near her and attempted a smile.

"Close call, huh?" She released the other woman from her potentially too-cold grasp, from a touch that likely felt of death. Water fell from her eyes and her lashes, dotting her pale skin like translucent pearls, slipping away as soon as they formed. Tugging at her jacket, as though that would loose it of the chill that had soaked into it, she took a few steps from side to side. Either an attempt at warming herself, or an attempt to feel the physical form about herself, the shell, once more -- it was hard to tell.

"Did we get it? Where are --" Ezra glanced around, looking for the others as the crowd continued to scatter. The Ko was off to the side, neatly hidden away and safe. She glanced about for Alemi, and spied him near the edge of the crowd, and caught his gesture. Her attention turned back to Adra, to whom she nodded smartly, shaking off all evidence of her former terror. As if it had never been. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Let's go."

Adra's wrist probably felt limp in Ezra's cold grasp, but her focus was still on the sickening gaze of the many-eyed man. She could feel the force of his attention receding like the falling tide, but she couldn't quite shake the unsettled feeling it left behind.

"Too close," Adra heard herself reply. She looked up at Ezra as if for the first time, watching her friend try to settle herself as well. It made her feel better somehow, realizing she wasn't the only one so rattled by the encounter.

Adra returned Ezra's nod, grateful that they all seem to have escaped unscathed. Physically at least. Maybe they would all process the rest of it later, maybe not, but for now, they still had a job to finish.

The Ko made a note that he should arrange for meeting places before taking an action. He largely stood there, contemplating where the rest would likely settle on. Zero's seemed a likely spot if they could locate it again in time, but it was far from reliable. He never studied the noosphere, so he wasn't sure about the ins and outs of security, there. Always too many things to learn about.

Elsewhere in Fartown, Breme waited at Cafe/Bar, oblivious to the challenges his "students" had faced. One hour remained before darkness fell and the narrow building altered for its evening clientele. Breme nursed a coffee with far too much caffeine for someone of his age and stature. His hands were still steady, though his pupils were wide, and his hands busier, flitting and darting, than they should have been. The barista kept a watchful eye on him, but for years they had had something of a truce, and today would not be the day it was broken.

The sun continued its slow crawl across the sky, filtering through the hazy grey remnants of clouds, but soon it would begin its descent toward the horizon, their silent timer ticking down. With his pace quickened, Alemi reached the structure he'd indicated only moments before and then moved just passed it, tucking into the more sheltered corridor between the stretch of brick walls. The shop itself would not lend itself to a good meeting place, too small for the four of them to gather without the shopkeeper looking onto them with interest. This would have to suffice.

Alemi pressed against the firmness of the building, the straight of his back and the angle of shoulder blades flat too the surface. Through the dark slashes of wet hair, he glanced in either direction to check no strangers were nearby before he turned his hand upward and uncurled his fingers. The sharp pain at the side of one palm throbbed anew, subsiding only to leave behind a seeping numbness, but he could make out no mark from the strange thread that had stung him. At least, there in the center of his grasp were five keys, one simple square-headed and gold, one elaborate and blackened with filigreed top, two plain steel, and the final equally well-decorated as the second with leaf and floral accents though more silver grey in color. The last was most likely to fit the description of their targeted prize, though the second could not be entirely ruled out. If luck had been truly unkind, neither might be the sought for wicked key. Alemi hoped one of his companions might have a better idea of how to be sure before they returned to Breme as victors or not.

Ezra had to work at keeping her steps casual – they were close to the end now, but that didn’t mean their task was finished. As she and Adra moved in tandem toward Alemi’s chosen hiding spot, Ezra glanced up and found the Ko’s presence lingering where he’d stay most dry. His erstwhile grigg companion was gone – she wondered if he’d returned to Breme. If it had, hopefully not with tales of their lopsided efforts.

Trying to catch his gaze with her own, she nodded in the same direction, toward the building where they would (with any luck) converge to finish this task. Since most passersby and latterday watchers had already dispersed, it wasn’t difficult to follow suit. Only once they were closer to the buildings, out of the center of attention and near the alley their friend had ducked into did she allow her speed to increase.

As Ezra approached Alemi, she saw he had something laid out in his palm – keys. "So? Any winners?" They were still in a public space, somewhat. Anyone coming down here would do so with a purpose, rather than just wandering, so at least that was in their favor.

"Here, I think I’ve got something that might help." Tucked into her waistband in a carefully sewn inner pocket, Ezra withdrew a wicked key of her own. A copper key with a green patina covering its whorls and edges hovered between her fingers – it had a distinct feeling, like if one were to hold an electric eel or broken Christmas lights, sending a brief buzz up and down the arm.

Passing her key over Alemi’s gaggle of misbegotten goods, Ezra carefully scrutinized their response. "Let’s see if any of them react."

Adra couldn't remember seeing a wicked key before, but she knew she had. She remembered the feeling in her bones like the dull ache in her shoulders before a storm. As Ezra held out her own wicked key over the collection in Alemi's hand, Adra felt the air go thick around them, a full blanket of humidity and soundlessness. The atmosphere around them felt heavier. Her thoughts slowed, and her ears filled with the sound of her own breath. But one key in the handful Alemi held now looked more vibrant than the others, as if it had drawn all the color from them into itself. Adra's eyes widened. He'd done it. He had the key.

As the crowd dispersed to go on with their day, The Ko wandered off into an alley to weave another spell. Speech from Wind, and Mystery from The Woods to keep it secret. He hoped the absence of Clarity wouldn't stop the spell hard, since he wasn't going to send a precise message to his co-conspirators. "So, where do we meet back up?"

Now he just needed to wait for someone to send a reply through their own means.

The message filtered down to the group standing around the keys; Ezra kept her gaze fixated on her work, but mentally tapped back into the Noosphere to send a response.

We're a few blocks away, she replied, following those words up with a description of their path, plus where they were currently standing. Come meet up with us! I think we've got what Breme is looking for.

When the motley crew walked through the doors at Cafe/Bar -- and holding in their hands a collection of keys, no less -- none were more surprised than Breme himself. He did not rise from his seat in the distant booth, but he did raise a thick-walled mug to them, its steaming contents smelling of more than just coffee. Once they had drawn near enough, he gestured for them to sit. No longer could he hold back his laugh.

"Look what the grigs dragged in! You really did it. Lemme see."

It had taken them a moment to regroup, first reuniting with Ko and then locating the Cafe/Bar, but they were here now, gathered there as instructed before their impish teacher. Alemi stepped forth with only a brief pause as he turned his head to look back to the others. He had never particularly liked Breme, between his brash and goading demeanor, and the circumstances that had framed their introduction. Their lesson had not changed that first impression. Perhaps it should have. His uncle had a similar approach of plunging students straight into the deep end without much guidance. Sink or swim. The best way to learn was from the consequences of your actions. Never make the same mistake twice. Although Alemi would be loathe to admit it, he preferred the more regimented style often found in the Vanguard classrooms. Clear step-by-step guides that could each be studied and practiced until perfected before moving forward. His uncle would say that was learning by rote, and therefore not learning at all.

Whatever method was best, one thing could be said for certain of Breme's first lesson. It had shown Alemi they all worked well together. There was a fluidity, an unspoken coordination that had worked between them all with few words, which was important in a job like this one. Ko, serving as a flashy diversion and using his magics in the background to encourage certain turns and twists, Ezra's perceptiveness and good-sense evident throughout as she had guided the onset of their search and then offered a distraction when Alemi had needed it most, and Adra, who was ever-aware of the needs of others, looking to offer her support where she best could, whether as a means to offer Alemi a quick exit in the back of the crowd or at Ezra's side to add embellishment for her cover story.

"Good work out there. Whatever Breme thinks, you all did well." A fleeting smile of encouragement crossed his lips, but vanished as he turned back to Breme. He stepped up, fully to the table where the boy had settled himself with steaming drink in hand, and with a quick, sharp motion dropped the wrought iron key onto the flat surface of the table.

It didn't exactly surprise Ezra that Breme had had little faith in the outcome of their test. Still, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the sound of the key hitting the table -- proof positive that they'd accomplished what they'd set out to do. Raking a hand back through her disheveled, dripping curls, she was certain all of them looked a sight -- from the weather and their encounter with the strange many-eyed man.

But together they'd pulled through. That, combined with the other recent adventures they'd conquered, made her feel glad to be numbered among the group. The thrill of fear she'd experienced made her feel electrified, giving reason for her good mood beyond their successful result.

She nudged Adra with her elbow, her own grin wide and extremely visible compared to Alemi's. Without hesitation (perhaps a poor decision on her part), Ezra met Breme's gaze fully.

"You said there was a prize involved?"

The Ko nodded to Alemi, smiling as well. The whole thing was a team effort, so he didn't mind sharing the promised reward. He had hoped the training was a bit different, but he did put his existing skills to good use as the team's diversion. Assuming Breme approved, this would hopefully extend into lessons on stealth, lockpicking, along with the less obvious skills involved in navigating the underworld. He also figured he'd need connections, and this was one in the making.

He looked back to Breme as Ezra asked the question on his and probably everyone's mind.

"Nuh-uh," Breme said, too cheerful by half. "I said maybe. But since I'm feelin' so magnanimous..." He pushed the Wicked Key back across the table. He directed it toward no-one in particular; fitting and expected, perhaps, that he should want to watch them fight over it. Before the moment could draw out overlong, though, he tossed a black velvet bag atop the booth table as well. "A magecoin for each of you," he added, his gaze drawn to The Ko. "Artie says you're in want of a few. And if you'd like more work, and a chance to earn more of these, I guess I could take you along for a job or two. It only gets tougher from here, though. Think of it less like lessons. More like a work study." He raised his mug to hide another grin. "I never did like school."

The Ko smirked, taking his mage coin from the bag and passing it to the group, "I guess I'll be doing some self-assigned homework to keep up, then. Let me know when you've got a job ready for me." He took the Wicked Key in his other hand, holding it toward the group, "So, which one of us gets the key?"

He made a note to practice some sneaking. He could probably make a weave from Mystery in The Woods and Grace from The Wind to give him some magical enhancement. From there it'd probably be a matter of paying attention to how the weave guided his movements.

Adra slipped a coin from Breme's bag into her own and passed the prize along. She held her hands up at the Wicked Key, though. She was less interested in anything that had once been closer to the unsettling man than she had. No sense tempting his gaze back to her. "Not really sure if I should say 'thanks,'" she said to Breme. "But I may see you around." She stuffed her hands in her pockets and took a small step backward toward the door, hoping to let her friends know she was ready to go, but still willing to wait for them.

Alemi also declined the proffered key with a shake of his head, causing the slight annoyance of hair still weighted and heavy from the wet of rain to fall into one eye before he pushed it back again. Some part of him wanting to distance himself from this whole unexpected affair and its unfurling threads that soon revealed themselves to be full of tangles and snares. His uncle never would have hesitated to take such a valuable item for himself, feeling any trouble caused only gave more reason to have it. Yet, Alemi still couldn't convince himself to accept the item for himself. The key wasn't a prize he'd earned through any admirable means or cleverness of his own.

"One of you take it," he said, motioning to Ko or Ezra as Adra had already indicated her disinterest.

An itch felt its way through her fingers; Ezra had never been a kleptomaniac, but there might be residue on the key from the many-eyed man that tempted the goetic side of her. She eyed the Ko's extended offer for the brief time it took her to remove her own mage coin from the bag, tossing it back onto Breme's table.

"You keep it," she finally said, waving a hand in the Ko's direction. "Probably come in handy for future missions, hmm?" Ezra grinned, slipping her hands into her pockets to guard against the desire to take what wasn't hers.

"Depends on the sort of jobs," Ezra returned to Breme's comment before he started passing 'round the mage coin. "But I think I could be found curious." She felt the mage coin weighing down her pocket, as well as her own wicked key tucked safely into her belt-sewn pouch for its own protection. That weight was seductive in and of itself, though she couldn't stop her gaze from wandering to the wicked key in the Ko's hands -- not for the key itself, but the metaphorical and potentially literal information it might hold about the strange being they'd come into contact with.

Ko nodded, slipping the key onto a ring, next to a copper one he acquired elsewhere, "Thank you. Sure it'll come in handy sooner or later." He tucked the key ring back into his pocket, making a note to use the iron key first when he comes across a worthy obstacle. No point hanging onto an incriminating item longer than necessary.

His thoughts wandered to the many-eyed man, slightly annoyed that his own vislae quirk would probably be more troublesome if he had more eyes. There was, however, a strange sense of pride in having "invisible" as his eye color. He still needed to mull over some of the advanced changes he wanted, but this would help him get started on some of the simpler ones. For now, he probably had enough to be his two favorite colors: vantablack and refulgin.

He looked back to Breme, emerging from his brief reverie, expecting a bit of disappointment from Breme, "Looks like we sorted this out amicably. As for payments for jobs, I'm also open to orbs so I can spread the wealth with some other friends of mine."

Breme nodded, but his focus was already returned to the contents of his mug. He downed it quickly; soon the Cafe would become Bar, and his childlike presence was wanted elsewhere.

---

Later, when each returned to their home, they found they were not the first to arrive. An envelope awaited each vislae, neatly propped in front of the entryway to their home. A folded letter inscribed on black vellum and bound with black spidersilk, each on its exterior bore the name of its new owner in cramped and broken handwriting.

Unfolded, the interior bore a warning:
we have seen you. we know your sanctuary. there is nowhere the truespider cannot reach. offend once more, and your web will fall to ruin.