Who You Know...

[Nayt]

He had no money on hand to provide him, now. The bag of coins had been tossed back to one of his subordinates. He only had one thing to give him that was on hand. The top button was undone, and all in a single, fluid-like motion, a hand descended into his coat, and the pistol was withdrawn--a series of events taking no less than a fraction of a second. He didn't give Pietro a chance to respond to the action, either to beg him to put the gun away, or change his mind about the deal with sudden interest in being a guide.

Reestablish superiority.

Rather than just wave a gun around, he actually used it. A window--a poor, innocent window, deserving no more than to be looked through to see all sorts of older merchandise traded in for money. The man in the red coat simply put his arm to the side and pulled the trigger. The window shattered instantly, and the crowd outside was likely to become alarmed and well beyond alert--but entrance wasn't an option. He had men outside, and no matter the attention received by the lower caste crowd, they weren't getting through.

"Let me make this a bit clearer for you," the man in the red coat announced, his firearm now trained upon the head of the pawn shop owner, "I sail away and get a promotion for succeeding in this oh-so-important mission, and you walk away a rich man--wealthy for the rest of your days. And nobody gets hurt. Or, we kill our way through this spiral, starting with you, and reach these people eventually."

He had a bit more information about the shop than he let on--specifically, the pawn shop owner's name. Pietro. Superiority reestablished, he could make his case again, except this time time a lot more backbone in it. These people responded better to fear--and so, he'd give him some fear.

"You're a smart man, Pietro. You know how to make the right choices and make the right friends, or else you'd already be dead. Now, start acting as smart as I know you can be, and answer me: am I shooting you or am I paying you?"

[Ramlock]

"You're paying me..."

Pietro would slump into a chair behind the desk, defeated. He didn't want to die, and wasn't going to try to fight these people. Whether he might go sell information about their whereabouts later... That was another story. That was entirely likely to happen, but wouldn't come up at the moment. He would remain quiet, complacent with the situation entirely, much as someone who lived in constant fear of death might be...

Outside, there was no crowd nearby to scatter, but several of the people watching from far away would disappear. Most likely, Pietro would be "dead" to everyone they met within a matter of minutes. Unfortunately, information and disinformation flowed equally quickly through the FIelds, and with little to distinguish either...

[Nayt]

"Good man," he replied as he pulled his forearm back.

Even when he was threatening Pietro just a second ago, he didn't talk like an aggressive man--laid back was more like it, laid back and cynical. Even if there was anything in Pietro's shop that would be remotely impressive, he wouldn't seem all that impressed--curious, maybe, like with the gears, but not impressed. Either it was his personality, or a means of further establishing superiority in a situation.

He pulled the pistol back and slid it back into his coat. Firing it again wasn't a risk--it was just a flintlock pistol. It had only one shot, anyways, before it had to be reloaded. Not that Pietro knew that.

"Seitrig," the man in the red coat called out.

The one behind him that had caught the bag of gold just moments earlier tossed it back up to his superior officer. It struck him in the back of his shoulder and slid down his arm, caught in hand once it had descended far enough to be caught. The man in the red coat opened it and glanced at the broken window again. Before he turned from Pietro, he withdrew eight gold coins from the bag, barely even touching the weight of it; just by looking at it, just eight coins seemed ineffective in making the bag of gold any less dense. Before he turned from Pietro and started towards the door, he dropped the eight coins on the counter.

"Get that window fixed, you're going to start going out of business with it looking like that," were his last words to Pietro, before stepped out through the door, his men following behind without question.

[Ramlock]

Pietro slid the coins through the slot on the counter, getting them out of sight and off his person immediately. Carrying no wealth was the only real way to be safe in the Fields. Relatively, anyway. Robbery and murder were perfectly legal, after all. Pietro only moved money at night, and not very often, in any case...

Once the men had left, Pietro would go to work, cleaning up the mess they'd made. They were perhaps an opportunity for money, but something less dangerous and more predictable would have been good. Not that things ever worked that way. This presented him an opportunity to profit on both ends. There were people in higher castes who would pay well for what was certainly some sort of threat to the state of things. And then, the military could sometimes be persuaded to pay for information as well...

That would come later. First, Pietro had to survive the next encounter he had with these men. That had its own dangers, but at least there was a fair certainty of a payoff...

[InsaneDrako]

As Pietro was cleaning up, another shadow came towards the door. The man had left for several moments now, so it was safe to say that his henchmen were already far off. The figure who came towards the door, this time, was much more slender and gracious.

A soft knock came on the door, while a hand gently slid it open. Soon after entered the fiery mane that adorned the visitors' head, which now fully appeared in Pietro's vision.

Offering him an awkward smile, Phenix was looking at him with her dark eyes. It was a women in the prime of her youth, with a face that many would qualify as exotic. Her eyes were big and expressive, with pools of darkness in the middle that gave off the impression of being swallowed up if you dared to look into them too long. Her hair were of a bright copper-orange, and her whole body was adorned with gracious curves on a sculpture body.

She was known as the Fiery Dancer throughout the city, a girl who's life had been sculpted upon her art. Her movements were always calculated, the flow of her steps graceful, and her eyes upon the next step she would take. She was a woman with a strong will, determined on achieving her goals almost no matter what.

Almost? She had a curse. She had a good heart, and she could not stand injustice.

It was with that in mind that she came to see Pietro after the men had gotten the information out of her. She had to apologize, since those men had obviously been trouble for the 'shop keeper'.

''Are you alright? Did they do anything?'' She asked, sliding the rest of her body through the door. She was wearing her regular clothing, a simple yet clean shirt and a long, frilly skirt.

[Ramlock]

"Oh... It's fine."

Pietro would only glance up at the visitor to the shop, his eyes focused on cleaning, still. Cleaning the window glass wouldn't take much time, and the replacement of the window wouldn't be too hard. Glass, remarkably, was one of the few things that were produced in the Fields. Sand was abundant, as was wood, even if many resources were more difficult to come by. With the right technique, anyone could make the stuff...

"Just the normal intimidations... Foreigners this time. You aren't the woman they were talking about, are you?"

Pietro didn't worry too much about talking to the woman who had just entered. She was a resident of the Fields, too, someone who had nothing to gain from his loss, aside from perhaps the goods and money in the shop. They really weren't very impressive to begin with, though...

[InsaneDrako]

Phenix's right hand came up to her arm, while she offered a smile to Pietro. She walked up to him, grabbed a rag that was near by, and started rubbing the counter closest to her.

"Unfortunately" She began, keeping her eyes on the surface in front of her "I was."

She sighed, ashamed at herself for having given out his location to these men. They outnumbered her, while she was alone and isolated from everybody else, and the 'leader' had quite a lot of means to intimidate. She had been lucky to escape with only a good fright and a few glances from hungry eyes.

"I can't even fathom the courage, or the stupidity, you have for running this kind of business, Pietro." She said, reaching over to pat his shoulder.

"That being said, what have you got for me today!" Her voice was now cheerful, now that she was relieved that no permanent damage had been done to the shop -Or to Pietro-, and went on about the reason why she had been intercepted.

"I was on my way here when they got me, I hope you have haven't forgotten about me through the ordeal?" She put a finger to her lips, mustering the most innocent look she could.

[Ramlock]

"Well, I can't exactly make a living dancing, you know..."

Pietro wasn't really upset that she'd given them his location. It was probably better this way. They may have been in a much worse mood if they'd gotten here some other way, which was almost inevitable. They might not have shot his window out in frustration. It could have been him...

"I haven't forgotten about you, no... I've got two new dresses today, here on the moonlight special. And I think there's a new blade, too..."

The "moonlight special" was the polite way to refer to items that had come from the bodies of people in higher castes. Pietro got quite a few of these items in on a regular basis, thanks to enterprising individuals. He had the decency to clean them at least once before offering them, though. For some customers, such as Phenix, he also tended to suggest weapons. They were both residents of the same place, and had nothing to gain from the other, really...

[InsaneDrako]

Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she gazed upon the pieces of clothing he was holding up to her. She was always happy when she could get her hands on some new items to add to her wardrobe, as nearly other women. The special thing with Pietro, though, was that he could get her pieces you wouldn't see in the stores of this city. Most of them were unique, depending on the origin of the deceased- and with the slave trade actively buzzing, there could be a lot.

In this, the woman could upstage shows in different settings, offer her public a diversity that almost no one else could deliver. It was one of the reason of her popularity. The other reason was her talent for it. Dancing was her life.

But, a part of that life was also to go up. Up the caste ladder that there was intricately woven into the everyday life, from the poorest of peasants to the mightiest of generals. The constant struggle of power was common in this region, and dancing was the only way she could escape from giving way to despair.. For it was always waiting at the corner, when she had a moment of weakness.

Her happiness was quite evident, and she even gave Pietro a mischievous smile when he presented the dagger.

"It's still too big, Pietro. I need a blade I can slip..." She reached down, lifted the ankle-long orange skirt she was wearing, to reveal a leather strap around the middle of her thigh. "..Right here. I know someone who can make the sheath." She let go the fabric, and folded her arms on her chest.

"You just wanted to see it, admit it."

[Ramlock]

Pietro hadn't necessarily intended to get a glimpse of Fenix's own goods while he offered his, but he wasn't going to complain, certainly. She was quite an attractive girl, particularly for one in the Fields. No one had yet claimed her and taken her by force, which was surprising in itself, but at least she was able to take care of herself. Pietro was glad to be able to help her business here...

"I'll admit, it makes dealing with you a bit more pleasurable..."

Pietro wasn't a difficult man to tempt, if that's what Fenix was after. In truth, he probably had enough money stored to hire an assassin if he wished to. It would just mean he would arrive penniless and defenseless, though. He was content to stay in the Fields, particularly with the promise of the big score coming up. If nothing else, it meant he had only to look in front of him for threats, rather than behind him...

"So, what do you have for me today?"

Pietro still wanted to get paid, though...