noreasonneeded (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
noreasonneeded) wrote2024-12-23 06:23 am
noreasonneeded) wrote2024-12-23 06:23 am
IC/Overflow Post Part III
Starters, thread continuations, texts, and PSL tags welcome here!
The sounds of the season carry upwards from down the steps and out the window. Songs and laughter, along with shouts and scuffles. Just as the Barrel is never truly quiet, neither is it ever without its violence. Still, there's a shift even in these dark and narrow streets this time of year. An excitement and anticipation for the coming spring, of new chances and a life worth waging. A gambler's hope and a businessman's exploitation. The very makings and marks of Ketterdam.
The sweets shop has run various holiday sales and promotions, and the club has been decked out in finery and running specials with the menu, games, and performances. The new club is set to open as well in that buzzing time between winter's eve and the coming new year. Between that, overseeing his tenant buildings, some overseas ventures, and Dregs business, Kaz is as usual a blend of exhausted and fired up, taking every new success and opportunity as a never-ending climb towards an ultimate goal he's yet to find. Ever since Rollins he hasn't discovered quite the same purpose, but that hasn't stopped him from barreling forwards, anyway. To stand still, to stagnate, is never an option.
All of the workers at the Crow Club contributed to the night's successful event. From concept development to recruiting to vetting to decorating, it took a full crew. Kaz knows he didn't do it by himself, and that Genya certainly played a part in it. She's fit in well on the crew. In Ketterdam. With him.
Some of the proceeds from the night would go towards rebuilding the city, a good press move. Others would provide bonuses for the crew. The rest is dedicated to his off hours business ventures, such as buying out the indentured service contracts in the city, stocking supplies, and planning for more involved heists. His practical mind is already slicing up the funds for how they'll be allocated.
The rest of the Dregs are now downstairs, continuing the party long after it's ended. Kaz has had enough socializing, though. His skin feels thin from all of it, and he's retreated up the steps to his attic office at the Slat. His leg is aching from standing too long, his feet are tired, and his limp is a little more pronounced than usual. A testament to the weather and how hectic life has been. He grabs the whiskey and Genya's drink of choice, two glasses, and sets them on the desk before flopping down into his chair. His right leg is lifted onto the stool that's by his desk and he leans forward to pull off his boots. "One would think at least some of them would have laryngitis by now," he grumps about the festive music he can hear ringing up from below.
Kaz hasn't celebrated holidays since he was nine years old. He doesn't stop his crew from doing it though, even if he grumbles about it. The most he does is provide some gifts from those chosen few he finds deserving of them, though they're often practical in nature and without his name attached.
The sweets shop has run various holiday sales and promotions, and the club has been decked out in finery and running specials with the menu, games, and performances. The new club is set to open as well in that buzzing time between winter's eve and the coming new year. Between that, overseeing his tenant buildings, some overseas ventures, and Dregs business, Kaz is as usual a blend of exhausted and fired up, taking every new success and opportunity as a never-ending climb towards an ultimate goal he's yet to find. Ever since Rollins he hasn't discovered quite the same purpose, but that hasn't stopped him from barreling forwards, anyway. To stand still, to stagnate, is never an option.
All of the workers at the Crow Club contributed to the night's successful event. From concept development to recruiting to vetting to decorating, it took a full crew. Kaz knows he didn't do it by himself, and that Genya certainly played a part in it. She's fit in well on the crew. In Ketterdam. With him.
Some of the proceeds from the night would go towards rebuilding the city, a good press move. Others would provide bonuses for the crew. The rest is dedicated to his off hours business ventures, such as buying out the indentured service contracts in the city, stocking supplies, and planning for more involved heists. His practical mind is already slicing up the funds for how they'll be allocated.
The rest of the Dregs are now downstairs, continuing the party long after it's ended. Kaz has had enough socializing, though. His skin feels thin from all of it, and he's retreated up the steps to his attic office at the Slat. His leg is aching from standing too long, his feet are tired, and his limp is a little more pronounced than usual. A testament to the weather and how hectic life has been. He grabs the whiskey and Genya's drink of choice, two glasses, and sets them on the desk before flopping down into his chair. His right leg is lifted onto the stool that's by his desk and he leans forward to pull off his boots. "One would think at least some of them would have laryngitis by now," he grumps about the festive music he can hear ringing up from below.
Kaz hasn't celebrated holidays since he was nine years old. He doesn't stop his crew from doing it though, even if he grumbles about it. The most he does is provide some gifts from those chosen few he finds deserving of them, though they're often practical in nature and without his name attached.
It's satisfying to see the culmination of all their hard work. She's overseen the holiday events and decor for the club as well as the decor for the new one. She can see all the business they're gaining tonight. There's been a never ending stream of people coming in and lingering. They spend their coin gambling or imbibing. It had been a genius idea of Genya's to offer free, albeit watered down alcohol, to the gamblers. The drunker they are, the more reckless they are with their money.
They haven't realized that the house always wins.
Once she's certain that all is in hand, she quietly retires upstairs. She follows Kaz like a house cat that silently pads after its preferred person. She smiles at him in greeting when she steps into his office. In her hand, there's a plate of treats and appetizers from downstairs. She knows he's been too busy to think about eating, but now they are finally getting a chance for respite.
"Perhaps in the morning," she replies as she takes a seat across from him. She smooths out the skirt of her jewel green dress. "I'm sure Jesper will be coming to me or Nina to help with the hangover."
They haven't realized that the house always wins.
Once she's certain that all is in hand, she quietly retires upstairs. She follows Kaz like a house cat that silently pads after its preferred person. She smiles at him in greeting when she steps into his office. In her hand, there's a plate of treats and appetizers from downstairs. She knows he's been too busy to think about eating, but now they are finally getting a chance for respite.
"Perhaps in the morning," she replies as she takes a seat across from him. She smooths out the skirt of her jewel green dress. "I'm sure Jesper will be coming to me or Nina to help with the hangover."
"I'd say let him suffer to learn a lesson, but I need to make use of his skills in the morning. Best ensure he's in good shape for it." There's no rest for the wicked, and for Kaz that means working the day after winter's eve. He slowly rolls his shoulders and arches his back in his seat, feeling the stiff muscles pop. A body is merely a tool in his mind, and he pushes his to the limit. His cane with the glittering jewels for crow's eyes rests against the chair's armrest, hooked around it. His boots are neatly set near his chair within easy reach if needed. Absolutely everything has a place with purpose, and is neatly put there with nary a pen out of sorts. Kaz is as meticulous in his space and habits as his mind is in sorting through plans and projects.
He pours her a drink from the bottle he snagged for her and nudges the glass towards her, then helps himself to one. The whiskey burns down his throat and belly, but leaves a pleasantly sweet aftertaste. His eyes cast over the food she's brought. Tantalizing tidbits from the tasting menu crafted with him and his chef and bartender. Quality items, but ones that inspire pairing with expensive drinks. It's honestly better food than Kaz's efficient palate needs, but then again, he's not the target audience for the luxuries provided at the club. He merely profits off of them.
There are no decorations in his office, no hint of holiday cheer. The air up in the attic is a bit cold in the winter and warm in the summer, because Kaz can't be bothered to spend money to ensure the temperature is perfect in his living space. Downstairs where the Crows congregate is another matter, but up here? Kaz lives off very limited means. It's never bothered him, but he's aware of it now that the woman he cares about is sitting with him.
Slowly he gets to his feet, clad just in black socks now that match his black pants and suit jacket. He's wearing a silver and gold vest, his only nod towards the season for show appearances. The boss of the club wearing it made sense. He heads towards his bed and snags the blanket, moving to lay it over her lap. "Here. If it's cold."
He pours her a drink from the bottle he snagged for her and nudges the glass towards her, then helps himself to one. The whiskey burns down his throat and belly, but leaves a pleasantly sweet aftertaste. His eyes cast over the food she's brought. Tantalizing tidbits from the tasting menu crafted with him and his chef and bartender. Quality items, but ones that inspire pairing with expensive drinks. It's honestly better food than Kaz's efficient palate needs, but then again, he's not the target audience for the luxuries provided at the club. He merely profits off of them.
There are no decorations in his office, no hint of holiday cheer. The air up in the attic is a bit cold in the winter and warm in the summer, because Kaz can't be bothered to spend money to ensure the temperature is perfect in his living space. Downstairs where the Crows congregate is another matter, but up here? Kaz lives off very limited means. It's never bothered him, but he's aware of it now that the woman he cares about is sitting with him.
Slowly he gets to his feet, clad just in black socks now that match his black pants and suit jacket. He's wearing a silver and gold vest, his only nod towards the season for show appearances. The boss of the club wearing it made sense. He heads towards his bed and snags the blanket, moving to lay it over her lap. "Here. If it's cold."
She thanks him quietly for the drink. He's poured it into the glass that's somehow become hers over time. There's nothing truly distinguishing about it. The glasses are plain and simple, but hers has a light, frosted white design around the bottom. She wonders how this one had ended up with the rest of the set although she does like having her own special glass.
"I hope you're letting him sleep in at least," she teases. She knows Jesper will be absolutely unpleasant if he's both hungover and not well rested. Grumpy Jesper is also incredibly whiny which just adds to the package. She picks up a cookie off the platter and takes a bite with her drink.
She doesn't pay much attention while Kaz moves around. They're both comfortable here in this space. She's even removed her own boots to wiggle her toes on the cold hardwood. She suddenly finds him before her with a blanket that he tucks around it. An adoring smile blossoms on her features.
"Thank you," she tells him carefully. The blanket smells like him which makes it even better. "It's perfectly cozy!"
"I hope you're letting him sleep in at least," she teases. She knows Jesper will be absolutely unpleasant if he's both hungover and not well rested. Grumpy Jesper is also incredibly whiny which just adds to the package. She picks up a cookie off the platter and takes a bite with her drink.
She doesn't pay much attention while Kaz moves around. They're both comfortable here in this space. She's even removed her own boots to wiggle her toes on the cold hardwood. She suddenly finds him before her with a blanket that he tucks around it. An adoring smile blossoms on her features.
"Thank you," she tells him carefully. The blanket smells like him which makes it even better. "It's perfectly cozy!"
"... fine, he can sleep in. Sleep should be overrated, though." Kaz has incredibly high standards, and a strong aversion to sleep, so the thought of letting someone sleep in is foreign to him. It's not that he doesn't provide his workers with bonuses, but mornings off are rarely one of them. She has a point, though. He doesn't really want to deal with Jesper whining, and he can use that time elsewhere. Not giving himself a break of course. "I've gotten far ahead by not sitting on my ass where others dawdle." Would it ever be far enough? Likely not.
His stomach does a funny flop at seeing the adoring smile on her face. There's a moment where he simply stands, stupefied in watching her, before coming back to himself and shuffling back to his seat. "Yeah? Good. I never bothered improving the insulation up here." He takes another sip of his drink and leans forward to pick up one of the snacks. A cracker with cheese and a fruit chutney on it. Savory with a bit of sweet and tart are where his preferences lean. He notes that she's also shucked her shoes. Her feet must be sore, too. Neither one of them minds hard work.
"Crazy how people get during the holidays. Don't get me wrong, it's good for business. Still. They act like it's really different than any other day, when really, it's just good marketing."
His stomach does a funny flop at seeing the adoring smile on her face. There's a moment where he simply stands, stupefied in watching her, before coming back to himself and shuffling back to his seat. "Yeah? Good. I never bothered improving the insulation up here." He takes another sip of his drink and leans forward to pick up one of the snacks. A cracker with cheese and a fruit chutney on it. Savory with a bit of sweet and tart are where his preferences lean. He notes that she's also shucked her shoes. Her feet must be sore, too. Neither one of them minds hard work.
"Crazy how people get during the holidays. Don't get me wrong, it's good for business. Still. They act like it's really different than any other day, when really, it's just good marketing."
"And what will you be doing when the sun rises, my little fox?" she asks with a raised, expectant brow. Kaz is a consummate hard worker. He has a work ethic that no one else can match. Even Genya, as busy as she enjoys being, likes to sleep in after be culmination of weeks of work. She intends to sleep in a little tomorrow then rise when her body decides to. She used to wake before the sun to attend to the Queen. Now she can sleep in though even when she does, it's not very late. It's nothing like Jesper or Nina.
She's pleased when he eats from the plate she's brought. It's good to see him take care of himself even if it is with her gentle and not so gentle reminders. She's made sure the plate is full of things she knows he'll enjoy to tempt him further.
"While that's true, I suppose people are more sold by the idea of what it can be. Perhaps chasing a memory or a what if," she muses. She's always the more philosophical of the two. "There's something magical about the holidays, and I suppose they think they can use that to make their dearest wishes come true."
She's pleased when he eats from the plate she's brought. It's good to see him take care of himself even if it is with her gentle and not so gentle reminders. She's made sure the plate is full of things she knows he'll enjoy to tempt him further.
"While that's true, I suppose people are more sold by the idea of what it can be. Perhaps chasing a memory or a what if," she muses. She's always the more philosophical of the two. "There's something magical about the holidays, and I suppose they think they can use that to make their dearest wishes come true."
"What I do best. Scavenging, setting traps, and hunting." The crow symbolism is so embedded with Kaz Brekker that some forget, or never learn, that it was part of the Dregs before he was. He simply built upon that poor reputation, turned it on its head into something new. The fox analogy is purely Genya's, but he doesn't mind it. Really though, if he was pressed to look for one image that told his story, it wouldn't be a real animal at all. The griffin has always spoken to him, that piecemeal monster who is built for practicality. When he climbed out of the harbor, he's put himself back together and discarded from his being what might propel him forward and what might hold him back. Various bits and bobs that others would cast aside as junk and broken, only he's bent them into his current shape with purpose.
It's less that Kaz isn't familiar with philosophy, and more that he finds little practical use in the application of it aside from using it against people for his advantage. After all, he couldn't very well profit off the holidays as much as he does if he didn't understand why people were so attached to them. He simply scoffs at the folly he finds in their beliefs, rather than not being able to understand how they arrived at them. "People want an easy out rather than to work hard," he replies tartly. "It's no different than anyone who gets desperate, or feels stagnate. They think a time of year is special because people in power have convinced them of it, and that if they spend the little they have in this "special" way, they'll reap some great reward. It's a gamble, and that's not magic. That's just laziness unless they're smart enough to rig the system themselves. You said it yourself. People are "sold" on an idea - and when there's a sale, that means someone is profiting from it if it's a good one."
It's less that Kaz isn't familiar with philosophy, and more that he finds little practical use in the application of it aside from using it against people for his advantage. After all, he couldn't very well profit off the holidays as much as he does if he didn't understand why people were so attached to them. He simply scoffs at the folly he finds in their beliefs, rather than not being able to understand how they arrived at them. "People want an easy out rather than to work hard," he replies tartly. "It's no different than anyone who gets desperate, or feels stagnate. They think a time of year is special because people in power have convinced them of it, and that if they spend the little they have in this "special" way, they'll reap some great reward. It's a gamble, and that's not magic. That's just laziness unless they're smart enough to rig the system themselves. You said it yourself. People are "sold" on an idea - and when there's a sale, that means someone is profiting from it if it's a good one."
[OOC: Continued from here.]
I like when you wear something that makes you look happy.
I'm shit at knowing what colors go together, but that I can tell.
I like when you wear something that makes you look happy.
I'm shit at knowing what colors go together, but that I can tell.
"There are some things hard work can't achieve," she points out. She agrees with him that hard work can lead to goals, but sometimes there's an impossible position without any feasible solution. She'd felt like that under the Darkling's thumb. She thinks that perhaps that death had been a solution, one she'd come very close to in her escape, but she's glad that hadn't ultimately been her fate.
She shakes her head. She doesn't want to think all that she'd left behind. The plight of the Grisha is something that still aches in her chest amidst Ravka's Civil War. She has no place there between saints and monsters and righteousness. In Ketterdam, she can be anything, do anything. She's no indentured servant here. She's her own mistress. She sips her drink thoughtfully.
"Wait until the holiday for lovers. They're even easier marks them," she reminds him. She can easily figure out specials and decor for that. She thinks the promise of a romantic evening out with all their prices jacked high would make them a pretty penny.
She shakes her head. She doesn't want to think all that she'd left behind. The plight of the Grisha is something that still aches in her chest amidst Ravka's Civil War. She has no place there between saints and monsters and righteousness. In Ketterdam, she can be anything, do anything. She's no indentured servant here. She's her own mistress. She sips her drink thoughtfully.
"Wait until the holiday for lovers. They're even easier marks them," she reminds him. She can easily figure out specials and decor for that. She thinks the promise of a romantic evening out with all their prices jacked high would make them a pretty penny.
Perhaps I should try you on. I think having you on me will make me incredibly happy.
[ She's being quite saucy, but mostly she hopes it makes him laugh. ]
[ She's being quite saucy, but mostly she hopes it makes him laugh. ]
[OOC: Continued from here.]
I don't fault anyone for fighting dirty.
I suppose I would just have to counter distract you in turn.
I don't fault anyone for fighting dirty.
I suppose I would just have to counter distract you in turn.
[It does earn an amused snort where he's at.]
Not too dour of a look for your taste?
Not too dour of a look for your taste?
[OOC: Continued from here.]
[There's a long pause as he considers how far they've come. How much work they've done together, to aid in his ability to touch. What else they might be ready to try.]
Maybe we should try the sitting. Just in case.
[There's a long pause as he considers how far they've come. How much work they've done together, to aid in his ability to touch. What else they might be ready to try.]
Maybe we should try the sitting. Just in case.
[OOC: Continued from here.]
Might not be the worst idea. At least in areas where I don't have to blend in. Everyone used to being there seems like they could walk around barefoot and be unbothered.
Might not be the worst idea. At least in areas where I don't have to blend in. Everyone used to being there seems like they could walk around barefoot and be unbothered.
[OOC: Continued from here.]
What if she wants to take to the stage instead of thieve when she gets older?
What if she wants to take to the stage instead of thieve when she gets older?
[ They've made a lot of progress together. And she can't say she's not excited by the prospect to make more. ]
We can do that. With pants, to start.
We can do that. With pants, to start.
Kind of like people in Minnesota that walk around in shorts during midwinter blizzards.
I'll get you two. And a scarf.
I'll get you two. And a scarf.
What is a backup band if not a team of thieves doing a side-job?
Should I take a picture of his face when I do it?
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