noreasonneeded | IC/Overflow Post

[ Without responding, Les makes her way to his office. Nina was off to surely do something better with her time than teaching her Ravkin (which sounded similar enough to her basic Russian knowledge). She knocks at his door and then lets herself in. ]

By the time I leave, I should be able to successfully be able to order a plate of waffles, a coffee, and how to tell someone to fuck off in Ravkin. Not that it will exactly be beneficial in most places but it's more than I knew before.

[To minimize distractions, Kaz is upstairs in his bedroom office. More people decide to problem solve for themselves when faced with climbing up three flights of steps. He's taken over Haskell's office on the first floor for his daily business, but when it gets late or he needs privacy he moves to it. His eyes lift to momentarily linger in thought on the empty windowsill before he forces his gaze back downward to his desk.

In his office that doubles as a bedroom in the converted attic, he can also take off his shoes and loosen his tie, which is about as far as he goes looking slightly less perfectly put together. There’s a mostly-empty coffee pot on his desk and a mug that’s half drunk, both looking like they’re years past when they should be replaced. Kaz doesn’t care. He’ll use an item until it breaks and can’t be fixed. His outfit is expensive, it’s for show, but his bedroom? Only the stolen artwork is worth anything financially. The rest is all secondhand furniture and items that he’s been accumulating since he acquired the building at twelve for Haskell to put his name on, with very few exceptions of ever being replaced.

The desk is simple wood with nicks, his pillow is all but a pancake at this point. The bookshelf doesn’t at all match the worn wall paint, but the books are lovingly and obsessively organized. It’s a small collection, but loved. Everything is neat and organized, clean to the point of a little side eyeing, but simple. As if at heart he’s a farm boy turned canal rat who can’t pass by giving anything a second chance. There's another chair on the other side of his desk, Inej's windowsill, and his single bed for sitting.

His eyes are sunken yet still shark-like in sharpness as he takes her in with a half-smirk. He flexes his left hand that's been writing and leans back in his chair. As usual, his right leg is propped up on a small stool.]

Handy. All you need now is to figure out how to ask for the lavatory and for directions. [He makes a little gesture for her to close the door. While the coffee pot is empty - speaking of needing a lav soon - his mug isn't and he slides his half-filled one over to her if she wants.] Have a seat. I don't have cooties but it's cold, fair warning if you can't heat it back up with fire fingers.

[OOC: Sorry this got long! Just wanted to give you a full setting of his bedroom. :) ]

Edited 2023-08-07 11:46 (UTC)

[ She has no problems climbing the stairs to his room/office. She steps inside and shuts the door behind her at his gesture and glances around quickly. Not that she expected much to change from the last time and sends him a half-smirk in return.

Les takes him in, noticing the still sharp gaze and the sunken features. ]

I hope you've slept at least an hour in the last 36 hours. She says that will be the third lesson. There are far more interesting phrases to learn before something so dull as the lavatory and directions.

[ She can't help but tease him before taking a seat in front of him. She picks up the half-filled mug and within seconds steam rises to the top. ]

Would you like a heat-up? Can't promise it'll taste anything like fresh coffee but it'll be warm.

The lavatory and directions are practical. And sleep is for cursed royalty passively waiting on true love. You won't see me falling for that ruse. [It's facetious remarks like that, that sometimes make it clear why he's friends with Jesper.

Shaking his head a little at her question, he waves a hand to indicate she can drink the now-warm mug if she wants.] It's yours. At some point I'll go downstairs and refill the pot. [Could he buy a little coffee machine for his room to make refills? Yes. Will he spend the money on it? No. He sets his papers aside, resting them on top of a book written in Suli. Is he teaching himself Suli specifically so he can impress Inej's family? Maybe. Even if they aren't together, she's still his friend and family, and it matters to him to try and connect to the people that matter most to her.]

There's a lot of different methods of forgery. I started out years ago with basic written ones.

[It’s part of his magic that is entirely man made. He'll never be a physical powerhouse, so he makes up for it in sleights and deceptions. He's long ago learned that nobody can be good at everything, so life is more a matter of making compensations for himself and surrounding himself with others who have talents he lacks.]

[She snorts in amusement and settles into her chair, watching him with an amused look.] That must be why my unsuccessful journey to true love isn't working - I'm not cursed royalty. That's a shame.

[If she notices the book before he covers it with papers, she doesn't say a word. She had no doubt in her mind that he missed Inej and it was a little weird to not have the other woman around. She liked her but liked knowing she was out there doing something good with her skills. ] I'm surprised that one of the others doesn't have a spidey sense for when their boss is out of coffee. I would think that's the first thing that would manifest.

That makes sense. I assume it's one of the building blocks or the start of a good foundation to forging. [ She had always been an apt pupil and someone who enjoyed learning new things. She would try to tell herself she didn't need to master anything anytime soon but she had a tendency to fixate on things. ]

It only seems a shame until you live with people being lovey under your roof. It's one of many reasons I won't share a wall with Jesper and Wylan's room. The endless terms of endearment seem like they'd get grating over time and not just for bystanders.
[It's not that he doesn't believe love exists, but it seems like mostly a confusing mess that, while perhaps at times worthwhile to risk, far from a fairytale.]

No, apparently they think I drink too much coffee as it is. [One of the downsides of knowing someone who can keep a check on his heart rate and blood pressure. He get lectures on how often he's close to giving himself a heart attack.]

Indeed. Though starting off with the same items they did makes it easier, otherwise you have to age the paper and ink or use other tricks to mimic different applications. The first step is figuring out which hand they used and the position of it. How much pressure did they apply and where did they break and lift the pen or pencil off the paper. [He shows her one of the pages of correspondence he's working on, a letter to overseas investors regarding some farm holdings.] The smudges there and there indicate a new or ball ink type pen used by a lefty. I empathize with the latter. If you're not ambidextrous or left-handed that's fine, you just need to learn to curl your right hand to mimic it.

[Kaz has taught himself since he was fourteen to also write and greatly rely on his right hand, both out of necessity for lockpicking, forging, sleights of hand, and in battle, but also because that's when he broke his leg. With his cane in his left to lean on, he needed to catch and do other things with his right. So much of his youth had been survival based, while fitting in small pockets of time to learn things going forward like finance. Some learning had been quick, others naturally taking years to master, nobody could quickly pick everything up no matter how determined. He always thought it was most telling when something did take a long time, for not many people stuck with things then.]

Edited 2023-08-09 12:30 (UTC)

[ Les can't help but laugh. His words remind her of the 'before days' when they had all been so lovey-dovey under the same roof and now, she can't even imagine it for herself. Maybe one day but she was working on... everything else. ] I get it. It was annoying to hear Adonis and Jordan be all lovey together. I'm thrilled we never shared a wall back then. My hearing is better than average, and I'm sure it was even worse for vampires.

Ah, that explains it then. [ She could easily imagine Nina giving him a lecture about his coffee intake. She was glad she hadn't been given one so far. ]

[ She takes in what he's saying and looks over the page he shows her, humming to herself. It made sense. ] That makes sense. How much time do you put into studying their writing styles? I'm sure in some cases it doesn't matter but in other cases, one word or a phrase, I assume, could make alarm bells go off in their head. [ Perhaps that was further down the road but she was curious nonetheless. ]

[Loving words have never been a part of Kaz’s vocabulary, at least not how many understand them. Loving for Kaz has been trying to overcome his phobia at fourteen so that he could kiss Imogen. It had been placing a dagger in Inej’s hand and telling her she’s dangerous. It was promising to always come for her, crawling if he was too broken to walk, so they could fight their way out together of whatever the world threw at them. It was saying he could not promise safety, nor happiness, only honesty. He doesn’t know if he’s built for sweetness any longer.

He’s not so broken though that he doesn’t like that such tenderness does exist for the people that matter to him. That they’ve experienced it in the past or are now. That he won’t fight for their happy endings.]

There isn’t one set period of time, so the only answer I can give is ‘as long as it takes.’ It gets easier over time the more you do it, and it also depends on the writing style. Some people have a lot more flourishes and quirks than others, and you have to be mindful of the style of writing they’re using and the letter combinations. If you don’t have a sample of how certain letters connect, then making assumptions can lead to a glaring mistake. If you’re not merely copying a letter but trying to create one from scratch, you really need more samples to work from, how they speak doesn’t even always match up to their style in writing. And of course, the person receiving the forgery matters, how familiar they are with the writing and things of that nature.

In this case, it’s to his business partners. They know a particular side and style from him. They have endless dirt on him but aren’t likely to know how he talks to his mistress in the bedroom. I don't plan on starting the letter with To my darling pookie petal.

[ Les nods in understanding as he speaks and studies the forged letter that he's been working on then one of the source letters he has, seeing the similarities between them. If she didn't see it with her own eyes, she wouldn't be able to tell that it was a forgery. Which was, ultimately the point. ]

That makes the most sense. Just like everything, practice makes perfect. Or progress if you're not an overachiever like us.

[ She snorts in amusement. ]

So no My beloved snookums either? That's disappointing but fair, I guess. So is he a more 'to the point' writer or does he write in code due to paranoia of his correspondence being found and read?

Oh, no code. He’s a shrewd businessman but not to the point of spy-level tactics. There’s some doublespeak but one doesn’t need to correspond letters to numbers or something of that nature. This is the reason though that I only commit to paper what is absolutely necessary in the case of an audit. I’m told I’m a terrible letter writer because of it, even in matters that don’t pertain to business.

Have you come across any spy-level tactics? [ She can't help but be curious and ask the questions on her mind. ] I can see why, knowing that anything could be intercepted and potentially used against you. I assume that includes those you consider friends as well?

In this instance? No, I haven't.

[He doesn't mind the questions, even if he's so tired that the answers are rather to the point rather than elaborate. It's obvious when he does get annoyed by someone asking him things or talking to him as he doesn't try to hide it. When feeling pestered he tends to give clear looks and scathing rebukes. Right now though he just twists in his seat to stretch his back, feeling the joints pop.]

Including friends. [Perhaps especially friends.] It's bad enough to know who my acquaintances are, why add on top of that how I correspond with them.

[Even his phone and that of the Crows would not have records accessible by the authorities or general public. Off the grid paranoia is a way of life. His fingers lightly tap on the desk, seemingly a touch restless but it's not directed at her as his eyes look down at the papers he's forging. His tone is scathing and dismissive.] No, he and his friends don't have spy skills, or anything special about them beyond being born into money and making poor choices on how they use it.

In general? In all of your experiences?

[ She watches him and knows he should, one day, sleep more than an hour but who is she to tell him that? After all, she was and could be just as bad as him when given a project. ]

Then I am sure Inej has been thrilled by any correspondence you've sent her since she's been away. [ She can't help but tease him just a little and it doesn't take a genius to know that they've most definitely communicated at least a bit. ] Though, to be fair, I've become much the same way after knowing anyone could be after me.

So they're that kind of person then, that's lovely.

In my overall experience, I've met a number of spies. All the gangs here have them, many of the merchers have them, and dealing with overseas political messes, both the governments and the militaries have them.

I tell Inej things are fine. And they are.

They're that kind of person, yes. Kerch only breeds the finest of those. [He lifts one shoulder in a shrug as though it doesn't matter. Or rather, he can't let it matter too much, or else he'll be acting out of emotion rather than reason.] It'll get handled. Anyway. How's the coffee?

That was a dumb question. [ She says after a moment with a laugh, sitting back in her chair and rubbing at her temples. She sits up and reaches for the coffee, taking a sip. Obviously, this meant she needed more coffee! ] Of course there would be plenty of spies around here. Yours included.

They are fine. [ She agrees with a little nod, watching him as she takes another sip of the coffee. It wasn't bad - even rewarmed up. ] If she wanted other news, I'm sure she'd reach out to Jesper or Nina.

I have no doubt that you will. At least the correspondence sounds straightforward enough. The coffee is good. I could go make more since you gave me your last cup.

It isn’t dumb to not immediately think on how the criminal underbelly works in a place like Ketterdam. Especially since it mirrors how the supposedly lawful side really operates, too. Yes, though. Ketterdam is where everyone comes to wheel and deal away from lawful prying eyes. It makes no such promises on other prying, though. [He says it with some pride. Ketterdam might be the cesspool of the world in terms of morals and scruples, but it’s also where so many come to make or break their fortunes. It’s independent and wealthy, even if that wealth isn’t evenly distributed yet. He could never count on the law but he learned to count on himself in these streets, and he embraces the promises his city brings, however broken they might be.]

I can just imagine how that news goes.

[His eyes fall on the empty pot sitting on his desk. He’s drunk all but the cup he shared with Piper, which means he’s been sitting now for quite awhile. Kaz often sits to rest his leg, but even he has his limits.] I’ll walk with you. I need the lav and to make sure nothing’s been set on fire in the past few hours. Although with you here where I can see you, that does lessen those odds slightly. [He’s teasing. He slowly gets to his feet, stretching his back before grabbing his cane to head downstairs with her.]

With everything I've learned about Ketterdam, it really shouldn't be so surprising. [ She can hear the pride in his voice and it's not completely unfounded. Ketterdam was an interesting place and one that her younger self may not have appreciated as much as she did now. Having been through everything she had and having needed what this place had to offer, she rather liked it. Or maybe it was because she had good ties to Kaz and his crows. ]

I can equally imagine it as well. Especially anything from Jesper.

[ She nods and stands from the chair, grabbing the empty pot. ] It was the one time. Jesper dared me and I can't turn down a dare. [ Piper can't help but tease in return as they walk down. She gets to work on the new pot of coffee while listening to everything going on around her. ]

While he can move deceptively fast in a fight, Kaz isn't as quick as some of the stealthier people he knows like Inej. On the trip down he's slower than Piper, his cane an added click against the floorboards as they make their way. She seems to keep pace with him. Most of his friends do, unless he annoys them. Along the way he mostly gives nods to people as they pass, unless a question is asked in which case he answers. He leaves the coffee making in Piper's capable hands. There's an energy to the house but not excessive or frantic as there isn't any immediate threat on hand.

In the kitchen Nina is sitting at the table making orange cardamom cookies. Kaz's gaze gives her a quirked eyebrow look. "I'd ask if you're stress baking but you'd only say yes now that I'm here."

"So glad we've reached the point where you can insult yourself for me." She offers Piper a piece of orange. "And no, I'm fine, Kaz. I'm think baking. Not stress baking." Her smile fades as she clucks her tongue seeing what Piper is doing. "You two can't be trusted, neither of you needs more coffee."

"Coffee goes with cookies."

"Who says you're getting cookies? Les is getting cookies, I didn't say anything about you." Her words lack any bite as she looks actually pleased when Kaz helps himself to an orange slice. Put food in front of him and he'll usually be compelled to steal it. She's unlocked the secret. It works at least half the time.

"I don't talk when I'm chewing," Kaz points out as though shutting him up is a valid reason to feed him.

"... fine, but one day you're both getting decaf."

Piper laughs and takes the piece of orange from Nina with a thank you and pops it into her mouth. "Isn't it nice when it gets to that point," she asks Nina with an amused grin before turning to make the coffee.

"I used to bake when I was stressed. Mostly brownies and chocolate chip cookies though," Piper admits with a grin. "These look like they're going to be excellent." But Nina's baking always is.

"I am not held responsible if my blood and caffeine levels are screwed up, who knows what may happen," she says before turning to watch them. "Not that I will ever turn down cookies because who would, but what's on your mind?"

Not that Nina has to explain anything but she'll ask the questions regardless.

Piper gasps in shock. "How dare you bring in the blasphemy of decaf to these hollowed halls."

"Food is therapeutic. Especially food that isn't good for you," Nina agrees with a nod. "I was thinking about the upcoming street festival Ketterdam has every year at the end of summer." She never got a chance to take Matthias but she's not going to let herself think on that part right now. "Maybe I'll enter the baking competition. If we're not working at the event."

She eyes Kaz, who says nothing while eating his orange, and sighs. "Are we working through the event, Kaz?"

"Not all of it." He rises with the rind in his hand, reaching out to Piper to take hers too to the trash. "You should have some time to enjoy it." He didn’t plan on taking time to participate in the festivities after, but once the job was done he didn’t care if the others did.

"And you were gonna let us know when?"

"When you needed to know." He gives her a lopsided smirk and steers clear of her reach when returning to the table.

She still flips him off. "Piper can have real coffee. Forget decaf. You're getting dirt grounds." She looks back at Piper, then. "You should come if you’re in town. It's fun even if Kaz tries to make it anything but. We can enter the baking contest together.”

"Especially food that isn't good for you," Piper agrees with a little grin. It was something she used to do with Jordan a lot when they were in the midst of finals or some other big project on the horizon. Afterward... well, much like everything else, it stopped. She had other things to focus on. When was the last time she baked anything? "That sounds really fun," she says, focusing back on the conversation at hand. "You absolutely should join the competition, you'd blow them all out of the water."

She hands over the rind to Kaz with a little thank you. "So basically after it was all said and done," she teases Nina with a laugh and picks up a second mug.

Piper takes a minute to consider her schedule at the end of the summer and nods. "I'd like that. It's been a while since I've baked anything but I would enter the baking contest with you hands down. I should be free then."

"The motto here is first work then play," Nina agrees with a little laugh and shake of her head. "Which is better than all work and no play, which I'm sure Kaz would prefer, but we nag him enough that it's more balanced." It's a far cry from her life as a child soldier in the Second Army where she ended up after her powers manifested at the orphanage. There she did form connections with some people, but there had been the constant push and stress to advance her powers and prowess for the good of her people. A part of her feels guilty for not going back, but she also relishes the freedom. As much of a taskmaster as Kaz can be, she could walk away at any time without him hunting her down. She's here by her choice. They all are, and that's what makes the little misfit family so powerful and important to her.

She smiles in delight as Les agrees, knowing the other woman needs fun in her life, too. They all do. "Great. We'll have to make some practice recipes while you're around, see what works best." She begins to scoop the cookie dough onto a sheet, warning Kaz and his nimble fingers, "There's raw egg in here. Don't. I don't care about your goat stomach, don't eat it until it's cooked." Her eyes narrow as he looks a little put out, but he backs down and folds his arms at the table. "What recipes do you usually like to make?" she asks Les to find out where the woman's expertise in baking lay. There were a lot of different types of baked goods, after all.

Piper laughs and nods her head. At one point, she'd had more play in her life but when everything happened, she became just as focused as Kaz was. She was glad that they'd had time in their life to play and to learn their abilities without their life being solely about their 'destiny'. Which was what so many of their ancestors had wanted. She's not sure she would want to know how she would have ended up had that been her background. But it didn't matter. She was here and she was forging her own path forward. And, truthfully she could use the fun.

"You know what they say about all work and no play," she says with a grin. "Really, you're lucky you have so many people looking out for you." She couldn't help but tease him and knew that a) she was one to talk and b) he still worked most of the time.

She snorts when he backs down but she had to admit, she did enjoy some raw cookie dough herself. "Basically sweets," she admits with a grin. "I always went for the cakes, brownies, and cookie recipes. Sometimes the rare pie or two. But the cakes and brownies were my favorites."

“What if my work is my play?” Kaz counters, thumb lightly tapping on the table beneath his folded arms. Even if he plans years in advance, there’s a restlessness to him that Nina’s noticed. A sense of persistent urgency as though he’s always racing against a clock, or against… something. Someone? She’s never figured it out, but she’s noticed that Kaz is the embodiment of perpetual motion. He is that shark that he’s always called, though perhaps for more reasons than just a predator hunting prey.

Nina shakes her head. “It doesn’t work like that, Kaz. You can enjoy your work, but it isn’t the same as play. It shouldn’t be.” She doesn’t think even he really buys what he’s saying, or else he wouldn’t let everyone but himself take days off.

The oven timer goes off and Kaz rises to his feet, taking the tray from her to put it in to bake. He gives her a smirk as he does so, one that’s shiny and sharp, smooth as a surface and no deeper than one, either. “Then I’ll just outsource it.”

Impossible man. She gives a huff, but at least he doesn’t eat raw egg. Sometimes it’s the bare minimum and all about small favors with Kaz Brekker. Looking back at Piper, she gives a smile. “Cakes and brownies are wonderful choices. And it’s so easy when baking with chocolate for things to end up dry, so it does take a deft hand. I usually like a little spice in my baked goods. Sometimes heat, but also just warm spices. Fall is definitely my favorite season because of that.”

"Although, I can see stealing art work being your idea of play though," Piper muses, her tone teasing though as she watches the two. She has also noticed the way he never sits still and from everything she knows, she's not surprised. She figures it's when he is sitting still that they should really worry. But she couldn't really say anything, she was constantly moving or doing something with her hands.

She turns back to the coffee pot and pours a mug. "Do you want a cup now or when we go back upstairs," she asks, glancing over at Kaz, fully intending to take the pot up with them.

"I don't think that's how outsourcing works, my friend," Piper laughs and brings the mug up to her mouth for a sip.

She looks at Nina with a smile. "That's for sure. it took me one too many times to realize what I was doing wrong," she admits. "Oh, spice is good. What is your favorite recipe to make?"

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Love it!

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hope it's okay I tossed Wylan in with Jesper!

Always!

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