Fable - Ask Carrying the Same Sin

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
Layla was thoroughly impressed with Bastian. He had handled the fence beautifully and she was walking away with a pretty penny even after his percentage and paying the crew.

The man looked from Layla to Bastian before nodding. "Aye, I actually have a customer who is looking. Let's talk prices..."

As the two men went back into negotiating, Layla started to wander around the shop. She had to admit that there were some interesting things here even if the shop as a whole was weird. The price was agreed upon and it was agreed that funds would be delivered to the ship tomorrow morning and that is when they would turn over the merchandise.

The new partners left and Layla smiled up at Bastian. She was very glad she brought him. She would be set for awhile. "Since we are stuck here until tomorrow, do you wanna go get a drink and a hot meal?" Layla asked as they started to walk away from the shop. "My treat...as a thank you and well done," her smile was still there.
 
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The negotiations as it happened turned out better than expected. In the slums people were constantly trying to fuck one another over. It as the nature of the game, how things were done. It was at a point where it was practically expected.

As a pleasant surprise the arbiter of this humble abode seemed to not be in the mood to try any such thing. At least not yet. The three of them came to a deal, and all of them stood to make quite a bit of money.

At least if no one went back on their word.

As Lyala and Bastian stepped out of the store she offered him a meal. For a brief moment he considered, then shrugged his shoulders. ”Might as well.”

The killer agreed with a nod of his head.

”Just no gruel.” He jested. ”Or any of that slop they serve on the ship.”
 
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"Oh no, I need a good meal. I think we both deserve it," she said back to his comment about the slop. The ship food wasn't terrible but it wasn't great either.

The two walked together as she kept an eye out for a tavern that looked decent. She finally found one and the two entered it in silence. It was pretty busy but not too busy that she couldn't take her favorite tavern spot - the table in the corner. Layla didn't like having anyone behind her and she preferred to be able to see if someone was about to attack her.

After they had taken their seats - next to each other, both facing the door because they had the same level of trust for others - the barmaid came over and took their drink order.

"I have a simple question for you, Del," she said his name with a smirk. "What is your real name?"

Layla had known Del was an alias from the start but she wasn't going to push him until now.
 
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Bastian let out a long breath. "Well that depends on who you ask."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders.

He had held a dozen names over his short life, probably more than that in fact. Most of those whom he would consider 'friends' all dubbed him by one thing or another. He had grown used to answering to so many of them that it came natural.

"Ripper, was a popular one." Bastian said as he ran a hand over his beard. "The Murk. Gutter Rat."

Eventually he shrugged. "Del is as real as anything else."

The answer was a surprisingly honest one. He had only taken the name Bastian when he'd joined the navy, and even then he hadn't been the one to make it up.

"Bastian is what I went by on the ship." It was the closest thing to a 'real' identity he'd ever had.
 
As Bastian had been speaking, their drinks arrived. She was bringing to her lips and taking a drink as he said some of his other alias'. Layla choked on the ale as she looked over at the man. They had gone head to head on several occasions over the years when the client didn't want to take chances with only one killer. She smiled slightly evilly at him.

"Black Dahlia, The Shadow," she pointed to herself as she said the aliases that he might know. "The Alley Cat..."

Her voice trailed off on the last one. There were only a few people who knew of her power and they were the assholes who dubbed her that. Layla took another drink and leaned back in her seat. This was an interesting turn of events. They were both well matched and while she had guessed that already, she now had confirmation.
 
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Bastian didn't recognize any of the names she dubbed herself, though perhaps he should have. The young man had never been much for keeping track of his competition. Simple arrogance, or perhaps just a lack of care for his own life.

"Ah yes, the cat thing." He gestured as he took a sip of his drink.

Bastian had wondered about that, though in truth not enough to ask any questions. After what he had seen with Aisling, turning into a cat seemed like...well not that big of a deal at all. Now that they were out in the open though, it was something of an interest.

Still strange though. "Just cats?"

He asked, glancing around to make sure that no one was really listening to the conversation.

Even out here it helped to be a bit paranoid.
 
Layla looked around like her had and then shook her head slowly, "no," she replied. "I can shift into any animal and anyone who I have seen at least once," her smile was smug. She had loved her power ever since she had learned how to use it.

She took another drink and then the barmaid came back to take their food order. Once they had given her the order, Layla studied Bastian again.

"What are your plans after you get paid? I keep saying that I need to take a vacation but I know that won't happen. I don't know how to truly relax for more than a day or two."
 
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Bastian mulled over the piece of information for a few moments. "Handy."

The killer said, taking another sip and glancing down at the food that they had received. It was something from the sea of course, an odd sort of fish that had clearly been baked. Whatever else the fruit and vegetables around it where Bastian had no idea.

Not that he minded much. This was practically a feast in the slums.

"I'm going home." He said with a simple shrug. "Maybe see how things have shaken out."

Bastian hadn't gotten to go back to Vel Anir for nearly a year now, almost since the Revolution. After all this though...he was sure he could make it back.
 
Layla immediately dug into the food that had been placed in front of her. She did not realize that she was that hungry until the smell hit her. She smiled after the first bite. It was pretty damn good.

"Vel Anir?" She asked Bastian quietly. "If so, it's fucking changed a lot. I used to have more work out of there and now everyone is..." She lifted her fork and waved it in the air as she looked for the right word. "Nicer. Everyone is nicer. It is strange."

She took another bite and then another drink. "I need another job now that I have killed this connection," she chuckled at her own joke. Killed. Literally.
 
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"On the outside, probably." Bastian grunted quietly, glancing down at the food as he started to dig in himself.

Bastian had lived in the slums for his entire life. He knew them, understood them, and also knew well what had kept them in check. The Guard, despite what many thought, weren't a bunch of rosy little children. They had been harsh in their own way.

Especially with his ilk.

Their crackdowns had come hard, ordered by the ruling Houses and the King. Dreadlords had been rare, but that hadn't really been needed. The Guard had kept crime in check with it's treatment. Now that the Republic was there? Now that they were playing 'nice'?

"Dig a little deeper." He said with a shrug. "You'll likely find things aren't much changed."

That was why he felt safer coming back. Less oversight. More corruption. It would all have settled in by now. "Guards won't take a bribe if they know it'll lead to an execution. Take that away?"

He shrugged.

The Republic might have made some things better, but others would be much...much worse.

"Go to Alliria." He suggested. "Plenty of work there, so I'm told."
 
Once the two of them had finished their meal and a couple drinks, the two killers headed back to the ship. Layla said goodnight to Bastian and headed to bed. Her sleep was fitful as she thought about what she would do next once the money had been handed over.

The next morning, Layla had packed her bags before heading out to the deck. They would wait for their buyer to show up, exchange the money for the goods, split said money, and then be off on their way. Easy peasy.
 
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Bastian stepped out onto the deck, still clutching his pack. He moved towards Layla, offering her a brief flickering smile before he leaned against the railing besides her. "Exciting day."

He mused to her quietly.

"I'd thought you'd be practically bouncing for joy." Bastian was of course being facetious. Layla didn't exactly seem like the bouncing type, even when there was nothing but happy news. "Given all the coin you're about to have."

It wasn't enough to retire on or anything, but enough that most would call it a happy few months.

Unless they were drowning in debt, anyway.
 
"I was bouncing earlier, you missed it. I had to stop before anyone saw me though," she smiled at him and then sighed happily. "No, I am excited. I always hated this fucking ship and it is a nice fuck you to Timms' dead body to sell it."

It was not long before the fence and his men boarded the ship. Money was given, Layla split it up between Bastian, herself, and the crew, and then they were off to do whatever they had to do next. Layla's first stop was a nice tavern and a nice hot bath.
 
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Bastian took his money and did what any sensible person would do; got the fuck out.

The fact that there had been no double cross, nor attempt at a stab in the back meant that he'd received a string of luck. It was not something that Bastian was willing to test, nor something he would offer the benefit of the doubt.

He said his goodbyes to those he'd made friends with, bade Layla adieu, and offered her a place to stay if she ever found herself in the slums of Vel Anir.

After that, the young man disappeared.

Bastian thought it best that his name not be attached to all of this, and thus before the day broke into dusk he found passage on a ship to Cortos, and from there he would make his way back home.