12/16/18 Katirci + Nuha

Katirci Mualla was leaned against the wall, arms folded, eyes half-lidded with a competent smile on her face. she watched people come and go, clearly overdressed for this part of town--though she appeared no less at home. She was waiting, presumably, for something--or someone. Who? What? None but her could say, and she was *far* more fascinated with picking at her nails than answering.

Nuha Rasul fwumps against the wall and slides down into a cross-legged sitting position, swinging her oud around her shoulder. She looked up to her neighbor with a smile. "Mind if I tune?"

Katirci Mualla craned her head to look down at the woman, offering a gleaming smile in turn. All white's. Bold. Confident. ....Corporately clinical. "By all means. This little lane is as much mine as the refuse in the corner." She began to look away, but, halted for just a moment to click her tongue and comment idly: "The oud. I haven't met many who play,  around here." She spoke in an ever-so-slightly clipped accent. Faint, but distinguishable.

Katirci Mualla: "The lute, mostly. A few, the viol. Drums. Many drums. Guitar. Rarely the oud."

Nuha Rasul began to twang the strings of her instrument, twisting the knobs with precision. "I wouldn't be surprised of that, aroudn here. It is not a common instrument to Thanalan. But, I am not from Thanalan."

Nuha Rasul: "You may find it more common to the Near East, I would assume." Another twang, another twist of the knobs.

Katirci Mualla: "Mmn. Nor am I. A-- transplant, if you will. An expat, perhaps? An unfortunate adoptee. Take one's pick." She smiled, wide and eager. "It reminds me of *home!* " Her hands clapped together, temporarily abandoning her watch (or at least, so it seemed). "Do you plan on playing this eve?"

Nuha Rasul: "I have been, for the past bell or so. My friend here," she patted the oud for emphasis, "appeared to be acting up. So I came into the quiet to soothe her." She adjusted her weight, shifting to the side. "But, should you wish, I might. Are you a fan of music, madam?"

Katirci Mualla lifted her left shoulder just barely, before letting it drop. "Do you know those who are *not?* Yes. I love music, as do most spoken and some birds."

Katirci Mualla smiles at you.

Katirci Mualla: "Call me Kat."

Nuha Rasul grinned. "You might be surprised! I have met a surly farmer or two who didn't much care for the sound of plucked strings. Much preferred was the sound of his own voice."

Nuha Rasul: "Nuha. It is a pleasure." She nodded in acknowledgement.

Katirci Mualla shrugs at you.

Katirci Mualla: "He must have been born in the barn he tended."

Katirci Mualla || A dusty, dirtied looking miqote with a broad-brimmed hat ambled his way along the street. Kat kept smiling in Nuha's direction, joking amiably, happily engaging with her--though her eyes slid to keep track of him as he walked.

Nuha Rasul chuckled, shoulders shaking with the motion. "Of that I have no doubt. The livestock had better taste." She fell silent, following Kat's gaze. "Waiting for a friend, perhaps?" She said softly.

Katirci Mualla let her eyes follow the man a nonce longer, until he stopped at a door several fulms down. The man knocked twice. Kat's lips twitched at a smirk.

Katirci Mualla: "In a sense."

Katirci Mualla: "--The livestock. I hope you put on a decent show for them. Poor things. I'd like to think their few days on this star were pleasant."

Nuha Rasul watched silently, then turned back to pluck another few notes on her oud. Satisfied with the tune, she moved onto the next string, repeating the process. "Of course. I doubt they knew their fate. And I should hope they went to good use. Ignorant, happy, and useful. That is a kind of bliss, is it not?"

Katirci Mualla: "No," Katirci agreed with a wry little smile. "No, they rarely do. Perhaps it for the best. May their lives be gilded, and let them grow fat on grain, never having to know the hand which feeds them," she began slipping on rings. They were embedded with large, sturdy gems--diamonds, yellow sapphires. Even as sturdy gems as these were scratched, tarnished. Those rings were not put on simply to look pretty. She flexed her left hand. --

Katirci Mualla: || The man knocked again. Twice. The door opened, but he didn't enter. He muttered low, seeming to argue with whoever was on the other side before-- "FUCK. *FUCK* If y'think you're gettin' away with *THAT* PRice. Look! Look. I just--" lower, but still audible. "...Look. Explosive putty. Just enough to clear some godsdamned rubble a'fore Nonoimo's goons do. We're on a clock. Hear me? A clock. --Yeah. yeah. drop it off at Th'Museum."

Katirci Mualla: "...Do you mind playing your music a bit louder?"

Katirci Mualla: "Real quick for me. Play something--discordant. Jarring. If you would."

Nuha Rasul looked on, and quirked an ear. Smiling, she took up her oud. "But of course." She began to play, a loud, rapid tune sliding up and down the scales with ease. Her fingers flew over the strings as she strummed like she'd done so her whole life--because she had.

Katirci Mualla: ||The man looked over to the sudden spike in noise, abruptly. Katirci leaaaned from the protruding wall, giving  a bright, chipper smile...and a wave, fingers wriggling, lights from the nearby lantern causing her rings to glimmer in the evening. The man stared, expression going slack--before slamming the door on the other's face, and moving away at a hurried pace.

Katirci Mualla: "/explosive putty,/" she muttered to herself. "/Check with the alchemist's guild on their suppliers. cut them off. yes--/" Shel ooked to the door the man had left. Debating, eager grin plastered on her face after...her little demonstration. Tipping her hand. Telling him she was there. A threat.

Katirci Mualla: "On the other hand," she said abruptly, "There is something to be said for wild game. Are you a fan? I wonder if they're as happy as the livestock."

Nuha Rasul continued to play, easing into a steadier rhythm. It was stress relief, this--obvious ulterior motives aside. She leaned back against the wall and grinned at the proceedings, watching the man's back retreat.

Nuha Rasul: "The wild ones are all the more unpredictable, especially when cornered, I would think. I don't think they aare as happy. But smarter? Oh yes." She stretched out a leg, gesturing with her foot to the cane by her side. "I'm afraid I am not as up to the chase as some, however."

Katirci Mualla fished into her pocket, feeling out the gil. "You're right. Not has happy, no. But smarter. Perhaps that is their burden to bear. -- What would you choose, Nuha? If I may ask?"

Nuha Rasul stared pensively into the alleyway, plucking her last few notes. What a question. "It is a hard decision, I would think. But if I had to choose...I would be the game. Hunted, but free to run as long as its legs could carry." She sets her oud down, song finished. "And what of you? The wild prey, or the guileless livestock?"

Katirci Mualla 's smile split, becoming sharklike predatory. She reached from her satchel to drop gil into a small pile beside Nuha, letting it clinkle as it collected onto the ground beside her. "I am the *hunter,* Nuha, and I have never been a fan of choosing from the options given to me."

Katirci Mualla SHARKLIKE AND PREDATORY, EVEN.

Nuha Rasul snatched the gil as it was dropped, bursting into hearty laughter. "Well said! Ah, well said. Well, /hunter,/ shall I leave you to your prey? It seems you as well are on a clock. I'm sure your Company requires promptitude."

Katirci Mualla stopped smiling, but only for a moment. "...Dear friend, new friend. Does my reputation *precede* me?"

Katirci Mualla: "I don't recall naming my employer."

Nuha Rasul: "Only somewhat. And you did not. We Keepers have big ears, you see."

Nuha Rasul: "And some of us know how to use them, more than others." She grins, showing a hint of fang.

Katirci Mualla: "Big ears, you say." A soft huff, well-humored. "Well, then. A formal thank you, from Katirci Mualla of Nonoimo & Sons. I'm sure that stunt has him racing home--exactly where I'd like him to be."

Katirci Mualla: "Are you," she pushed herself to her feet, "In the area often, big-eared-one?"

Nuha Rasul: "Ah, as I thought. So polite, you are." She staggered to her feet, using the wall as leverage. "And yes. There are many people in this good city, and many of them happy to talk."

Katirci Mualla: "Happy to talk." Her smile was gone, now. Briefly, she surveyed Nuha coldly, looking at her less as a person, less even as an object, and more of a potential obstacle--but this was promptly dismissed, amiable smile returning, though not without added tension to her shoulders.

Katirci Mualla: "And do you share the words you collect?"

Katirci Mualla: "How big your ears are--I find myself wondering: how loose your lips?"

Nuha Rasul maintains a steady smile. "Only to those who know how to ask. And to those who have the coin, to ask. You needn't worry so--I prefer to sing, rather than speak. After all, I am simply a crippled bard." She leaned on her cane, grimly aware of her situation.

Nuha Rasul: "Should you wish to ply those lips with coin, however, I am happy to see what I can hear for you."

Katirci Mualla seemed to consider, for a time. She appeared not only appeased, but *delighted,* pleasant nature returning in full. "Very well. Never let it be said, that I am not without my good graces. " Again, her hands were clapped together. Theatric, this one. "Why, Nuha! Imagine my surprise. I came to rest my legs in pearl lane, and I left with a friend."

Katirci Mualla: "We-- *are* friends now. Aren't we, Nuha?"

Nuha Rasul grinned wider, fangs gleaming in the sunlight. "I should think so indeed, Miss Katirci. How fortunate are we, to have formed such a bond." She slings her oud back over her shoulder with practiced ease.

Katirci Mualla: "Well then. Dear friend. New friend. I leave you to your music, and to fortune. I hope your life is gilded like the leaves in Hingashi--lovely place. You should visit." She made an exaggerated bow, then turned, flexing her fists as she made for The Goblet.

Nuha Rasul: "I'll have to make a point of it. Best travels to you, dear friend." She returned the bow, and made her way back into the crowds of Ul'dah.