If you want a job done right, you'll just have to do it yourself.
Kaz Brekker also isn't in the habit of sitting around and waiting for things to change when something's getting on his nerves. In this instance: it's Milo distracting him, circling the back room, bleating plaintively and occasionally trying his own luck by leaning forward to nibble on the corner of one of the accounting books— last year's Q4 almost disappears down the animal's throat before Kaz decides he's had enough. He bundles the small goat under one arm, seizes his cane in the other, and goes for a walk.
He has a fair idea which gambling house Jesper's camped out in tonight. Whether it's because he knows his friend that well or because he's keeping tabs on him, well, the details are insignificant. Either way, the end result is this:
Right when Jesper's luck is starting to take another slight downturn, he hears the faint stirrings of a commotion on the other side of the casino ("Hey, you're not allowed to—" "What do you think you're—" "That's not—"). By the time he glances up, he can see some kind of disturbance cutting through the crowd like a shark moving through water. Once the people part enough to see through them, Kaz has joined him at the Makker's Wheel table, and he's shoved the goat into Jesper's arms.
Jesper's whole focus has swapped to the game in front of him. He's about to hit the biggest win he's had all night when he starts hearing the mutterings of people spread throughout the club. When he looks up to see what the issue is, his eyes immediately land on the problem-- Kaz is wandering through the place with Milo tucked under his arm. "Oh, are you serious?" He mutters under his breath. His eyes can't stray from the table too long, though, ready to see how this round plays out.
He has no choice but to take the sudden armful of goat that Kaz has shoved at him. "I can't believe you--"
"And the house wins."
"Dammit!" his eyes snap back to Kaz. "If you had just waited five minutes..."
"Deal you in again?"
There's a nearly comically long pause as he stares at the dealer. Looks at Kaz, nearly pleading. Looks at Milo, defeated. "....Noooo-uh," he groans out exasperatedly as he gets to his feet. "I hate you."
Playing this particular card (this bleating, white-and-black card) may have been dreadfully unfair, but it was also one of the few reliable ways to grind this machine to a halt, to cut it short and end Jesper's evening. There's no sympathy on the young man's face as he leans his weight on the cane, and watches as Jes starts gathering up his tokens and packing up from the table.
(There's the detritus scattered all around him, a mark of a long night spent with the rest of the men here: empty drinks, spent cigarettes in ashtrays, a few snack wrappers scattered at his friend's feet. Kaz parses it all like he's a hunter picking through tracks in the woods, and his quarry is one (1) gambling addict.)
"Famous last words. You're always saying five more minutes," he says coolly. He reaches out for Jesper's bowl of cocoa-covered coffee beans, a Zemeni delicacy, and pops a few into his mouth. "This way, you stop while you're ahead, no?"
"Hate. You." he repeats, gathering his things and smacks at Kaz's hand when he reaches for his snacks. "No one said you could have any." Not that Kaz Brekker asked for anything. Beside the point.
Once everything is tucked away in his pockets, he narrows his eyes at the other boy, "Or you're tearing me away from the biggest win of the night. How incredibly rude of you." He knows the argument doesn't hold water; it isn't as though Jesper's luck ever lasted, and he was the world's worst at knowing when to stop.
Inej is meant to be leaving later today. Setting sail on her mission against the slavers. A heroic thing. A noble thing. An absolutely necessary thing he knows she feels down into her very bones. But it doesn't make it suck any less to know he has no idea when she might find her way back. He, at least, knows it is a when. Not an if. Because as much as she has a thousand and one reasons to hate Ketterdam, her heart is here. Not with the city, but with Kaz. Everyone knows it, sees the tangible want that exists between them, and yet... nothing seems to have ever truly been done about it, near as Jesper can tell. He doesn't suppose they could. Kaz being who and how he is. Inej leaving. Doesn't make for a great time to try to make something of it, does it?
Still. She's leaving, and he doesn't know what to do with that.
Jesper has held onto the cornerstones of Kaz and Inej for nearly his entire time in Ketterdam. The three of them have been this strange sort of package deal so often, for so long, and it's strange to think of the city without The Wraith sliding through the shadows of it, gathering up all its secrets. More than that, the idea of this city without one of his closest friends, when they've all started slipping away so quickly in the last few weeks, feels wrong.
He finds her, and he knows it's entirely of her own doing, because no one sneaks up on The Wraith. But he finds her and he drops down to sit next to her. "Don't go." he says suddenly into the silence that stretches on. "Wait until tomorrow." A beat. "Next week." Another. "Just stay."
She could be less substantial than the breeze through the shadows of The Barrel if she wanted, and she often is, but not right now. From the roof of The Slat, facing the same way as her own window. That isn't hers anymore. Not since the ink dried on the documents. But Inej knows more about the unseen claws and chains that claim than most.
The Barrel lays before her, and the straight shot view through it, to the harbor, then, the sea. But it's not the sea or the harbor she's watching. Listening to. Breathing in. It's the Barrel. The sounds of the people. The creaking buildings. The smell. This place that nursed her understanding of darkness, and yet somehow gave her the most loyal of friends. More than just her skin, too many parts of her to name are marked with this place, and there are pieces of her, important as any limb or knife, that she'll lose when she steps onto her very own gangway.
But the knowledge of it doesn't make the bearing of it.
She's grateful for the distraction, even when her gaze doesn't shift and no muscle twitches at the first of Jesper's footsteps. The first movement only coming after he drops himself, solid and loud as a smaller boulder. Her face shifts, the edge of her mouth quirking. She's going to miss that, too. The uncontrollable want to snipe that everyone on the street can hear him coming.
But he speaks, and Inej's heart clutches, lips pressing. That momentary considering of shrewd ribbing lost for something solemner, as she takes a small breath in her nose (for all that, it can't be much seen when her shoulders don't more). It's understanding without being quite sympathetic. Amused that if it were going to be anyone -- at least now that Nina is gone; off to the cold wastes with Mattias' body -- it would be Jesper.
"You're going to be fine." There's an edge to her mouth that curves, and maybe some part of her heart is glad someone can say that. Even if it is overdramatic and given by someone prone to it, over-embellishment beyond necessity from the smallest to the largest of statements. But. It's nice to hear, just once, all the same.
She's impossible to read, because she can school her entire body to not betray her emotions. Something Jesper has never been able to do. His voice and his face always race to see which will betray him first.
"Maybe," he mumbles, picking at a string at the hem of his shirt. "but it won't be the same without you here." He pauses his fidgeting and looks up at her, leans a little forward to be sure he catches her eyes. "You, Inej. Not the you that is The Wraith. For the record." Because he thinks with enough time clocked with Kaz Brekker, everyone starts to feel a little less like anything but a skills investment. And it's an important distinction he wants to be clear about.
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it's a jungle out there, but you are an animal.
Date: 2021-05-31 04:23 pm (UTC)If you want a job done right, you'll just have to do it yourself.
Kaz Brekker also isn't in the habit of sitting around and waiting for things to change when something's getting on his nerves. In this instance: it's Milo distracting him, circling the back room, bleating plaintively and occasionally trying his own luck by leaning forward to nibble on the corner of one of the accounting books— last year's Q4 almost disappears down the animal's throat before Kaz decides he's had enough. He bundles the small goat under one arm, seizes his cane in the other, and goes for a walk.
He has a fair idea which gambling house Jesper's camped out in tonight. Whether it's because he knows his friend that well or because he's keeping tabs on him, well, the details are insignificant. Either way, the end result is this:
Right when Jesper's luck is starting to take another slight downturn, he hears the faint stirrings of a commotion on the other side of the casino ("Hey, you're not allowed to—" "What do you think you're—" "That's not—"). By the time he glances up, he can see some kind of disturbance cutting through the crowd like a shark moving through water. Once the people part enough to see through them, Kaz has joined him at the Makker's Wheel table, and he's shoved the goat into Jesper's arms.
"There. Your good luck charm."
i think i opened this to tag it so many times this week i thought i already did lmfao
Date: 2021-06-04 11:18 pm (UTC)He has no choice but to take the sudden armful of goat that Kaz has shoved at him. "I can't believe you--"
"And the house wins."
"Dammit!" his eyes snap back to Kaz. "If you had just waited five minutes..."
"Deal you in again?"
There's a nearly comically long pause as he stares at the dealer. Looks at Kaz, nearly pleading. Looks at Milo, defeated. "....Noooo-uh," he groans out exasperatedly as he gets to his feet. "I hate you."
no subject
Date: 2021-07-18 01:58 am (UTC)(There's the detritus scattered all around him, a mark of a long night spent with the rest of the men here: empty drinks, spent cigarettes in ashtrays, a few snack wrappers scattered at his friend's feet. Kaz parses it all like he's a hunter picking through tracks in the woods, and his quarry is one (1) gambling addict.)
"Famous last words. You're always saying five more minutes," he says coolly. He reaches out for Jesper's bowl of cocoa-covered coffee beans, a Zemeni delicacy, and pops a few into his mouth. "This way, you stop while you're ahead, no?"
no subject
Date: 2021-07-19 10:38 pm (UTC)Once everything is tucked away in his pockets, he narrows his eyes at the other boy, "Or you're tearing me away from the biggest win of the night. How incredibly rude of you." He knows the argument doesn't hold water; it isn't as though Jesper's luck ever lasted, and he was the world's worst at knowing when to stop.
{Wherever the winds take you ยป Inej
Date: 2021-06-12 09:46 am (UTC)Still.
She's leaving, and he doesn't know what to do with that.
Jesper has held onto the cornerstones of Kaz and Inej for nearly his entire time in Ketterdam. The three of them have been this strange sort of package deal so often, for so long, and it's strange to think of the city without The Wraith sliding through the shadows of it, gathering up all its secrets. More than that, the idea of this city without one of his closest friends, when they've all started slipping away so quickly in the last few weeks, feels wrong.
He finds her, and he knows it's entirely of her own doing, because no one sneaks up on The Wraith. But he finds her and he drops down to sit next to her. "Don't go." he says suddenly into the silence that stretches on. "Wait until tomorrow." A beat. "Next week." Another. "Just stay."
no subject
Date: 2021-06-14 04:28 am (UTC)The Barrel lays before her, and the straight shot view through it, to the harbor, then, the sea. But it's not the sea or the harbor she's watching. Listening to. Breathing in. It's the Barrel. The sounds of the people. The creaking buildings. The smell. This place that nursed her understanding of darkness, and yet somehow gave her the most loyal of friends. More than just her skin, too many parts of her to name are marked with this place, and there are pieces of her, important as any limb or knife, that she'll lose when she steps onto her very own gangway.
But the knowledge of it doesn't make the bearing of it.
She's grateful for the distraction, even when her gaze doesn't shift and no muscle twitches at the first of Jesper's footsteps. The first movement only coming after he drops himself, solid and loud as a smaller boulder. Her face shifts, the edge of her mouth quirking. She's going to miss that, too. The uncontrollable want to snipe that everyone on the street can hear him coming.
But he speaks, and Inej's heart clutches, lips pressing. That momentary considering of shrewd ribbing lost for something solemner, as she takes a small breath in her nose (for all that, it can't be much seen when her shoulders don't more). It's understanding without being quite sympathetic. Amused that if it were going to be anyone -- at least now that Nina is gone; off to the cold wastes with Mattias' body -- it would be Jesper.
"You're going to be fine." There's an edge to her mouth that curves, and maybe some part of her heart is glad someone can say that. Even if it is overdramatic and given by someone prone to it, over-embellishment beyond necessity from the smallest to the largest of statements. But. It's nice to hear, just once, all the same.
no subject
Date: 2021-06-18 11:44 pm (UTC)"Maybe," he mumbles, picking at a string at the hem of his shirt. "but it won't be the same without you here." He pauses his fidgeting and looks up at her, leans a little forward to be sure he catches her eyes. "You, Inej. Not the you that is The Wraith. For the record." Because he thinks with enough time clocked with Kaz Brekker, everyone starts to feel a little less like anything but a skills investment. And it's an important distinction he wants to be clear about.