Roofrats 18

"That's nice," she answered flatly. "So why not tell me when it started?" He smile was slipping to a more neutral expression.

Snags's eyebrows lifted and he straightened up. He lifted a hand, palm upwards and fingers curled, and gestured with it.

"We thought it might make you more inquisitive at an inconvenient time. That doesn't matter so much now."

Nico exhaled sharply, annoyance tinged with amusement, and tried to puzzle that out - How would it matter to the order when she got curious about them?

"If your idea is to confuse me, you're good. Why'd your Order care about me being curious?"

"Some of us don't want you getting killed by thugs," Snags said boredly. The implication? Well, that he didn't care either way.

Nico twitched a short-lived smirk at the thought that instead she was being followed around by thugs for her protection. The implication was so expected it barely registered.

"Ah, you mean curious about the thugs and following them?"

"Obviously. Apparently the last guy thought you'd walk right in and get yourself thorned given half a chance," said Snags. "You don't look that stupid to me. Then again, you did just corner a killer in a deserted alley.

"Well, I can't tell you much more." He took a step backwards.

"Thank you," Nico answered, slightly amused now, and stored that bit of information away for when she talked to the "last guy", who could only be Weft. And, because she could not leave well enough alone, asked, "Can you tell me why are you called 'Snags'?"

"It means a catch, an obstacle, right? A problem." He wasn't sure the alien understood. "I make those for other people."

Snags smiled again, still crookedly.

Nico smiled and nodded. "Can be a fun pass-time. I think I try to find Weft now."

"Try the monastery, maybe he'll be back from the thorn job this morning," Snags suggested, stepping back again into darker shadow.

"Thanks, I was on my way there." And hopefully this round of posing was more fun for you than for me.

On the way out of the alley she wondered just how many people were murdered by the Mercies per, what? Week? Day? Nico managed to put off scratching the back of her neck, which the raised hairs made itch, until she was a way down the actual street. All in all she was glad it made her feel uncomfortable rather than angry. The latter was more likely to lead to her seeing the whole thing as a challenge.

By the time she reached the monastery, she had put herself in a cheerful mood again, even if the underlying structure was a big weird.

She asked one of the monks at the door, "Excuse me? I'm looking for brother Weft..."

"Hi, visitor!" said the doorkeeper, a striated brunet. "Weft... he's a slasher, right? I'm the same. What can I do for you?"

Nico nodded at the first question and puzzled a moment about how to formulation of an answer to the second.

"You can tell me if there is a better way of finding Weft than waiting here and hoping he will walk past?"

"I said I'm a slasher too. We're all the same," said the monk, confused. "I mean, you don't need him specifically, do you?"

Nico stared at the monk for a moment completely baffled - If Weft, Triviality and Snags are all the same, they are all fucking good actors - then looked to the side and shook her head slightly before looking at him again.

"Yes, I do. I want to ask about something I heard he said about me."

"Ah right, gossip..." The monk bowed his tabby head for a moment before looking up again. "He's out meeting a client this morning. He was expected back before now, actually, so shouldn't be long. D'you want to wait inside?"

The courtyard behind him was shaded by trees (small ones, compared to the surrounding buildings) and contained an ornamental fishpond or two, with seating around the edge.

"Yes, thank you." Nico kept smiling, but was unhappy about the situation. Weft getting into trouble now was inopportune, to avoid using the word "unfair".

After a quick look around she sat by one of the ponds and watched the fishes. It was relaxing.

Which was probably why they were there. She saw a few monks - presumably they were monks - moving around, mostly with purpose rather than wandering.

None of them seemed to be curious about Nico.

One young male came out and took a nearby bench. He had a stack of papers, all long and relatively thin like those used for correspondence, and seemed flustered. On a branch above his head, a blue-purple-red perching bird cracked seeds.

The boy's movment drew Nico's attention away from the water, but once she noticed it, the bird interested her more. After watching it apparently picking seeds out of a cone or similar cluster for a bit, she leaned far to one side to figure out its position. Yep. All right, good deed for today...

She ambled over towards the boy, a few paces distant said quietly, "Maybe sit somewhere else? Birds get messy sometimes," and pointed up at the feathery critter.

The youngster looked up, blinked, looked again and then smiled at her. "Oh. Yes. Thank you." He shifted himself and his stack of letters along to the safer end of the bench.

Then the boy gave Nico an inquisitive look out of bright blue eyes. "You're not from..." he began before hesitating.