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.01
After what seemed like far too short a time for any proper haggling to have occured, Blend and the old man parted ways - the old man with what looked suspiciously like the better part of Blend's pay and Blend clutching something in her left hand that was probably not worth even a tenth of what she'd paid for it. Picker sighed. Typical.
Blend's expression as she came ambling in Picker's direction was pleased. It was almost enough to make Picker feel a little bit bad about being about to wipe that smile straight off.
Naw. It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it. Best to get it over with quickly.
"Doesn't look like much, does it?" Like the kind of cheap junk only an idiot would buy. Kind of insulting, really - except that Picker supposed that in Blend's case, the term applied well enough.
Blend threw her a look that came close to being unfriendly.
"What's it going to do, then?"
"Makes me harder to spot," Blend said, raising her chin in a fine imitation of his Lordship the Captain, haughty as you please.
"Need to beat them off with a stick, do you?" Picker snorted. Forget about her original objective: this was just too good.
"For scouting."
Picker dubiously eyed the charm. No way. Bet he tells his next customer it's good for getting attention. Poor sap. "Maybe you could just learn to be less clumsy and noisy."
"I was going to buy you a drink, but now I guess I'll keep my money."
"Should've thought that five minutes ago. Besides, why'd I need you to buy me a drink? We've got Spindle around, don't we?"
Blend looked confused. "Spindle's going to buy us drinks?"
Picker rolled her eyes. "I'd hope he knows better. What I mean is, next to Spindle with his hair shirt, the two of us look pretty good, right?"
.02
Everybody knew that sometimes, after a fight, you got the shakes. Didn't need to be a reason for it, and didn't mean you were some kind of coward - it just hit you, was all. Nothing to do about it except ride it out, for which this particular tavern had seemed like a good place to Picker for some reason or another.
Her mistake, clearly.
"You sure you're feeling all right?"
Now, if the guy'd gotten handsy or something, she could've hit him. Felt lots better after, probably - nothing like smacking a deserving face to brighten up your day. Instead, no, he had to go and get all considerate on her.
"Quite sure," she snapped. Hood take him ... or me. Not feeling real picky about that right now.
"Hey, good-looking, buy you a drink?"
Blend, you idiot. All right, so that charm had turned out to actually be the real thing, even if Spindle swore up and down he couldn't catch the slightest whiff of magic about it (small wonder, considering; a miracle the guy could smell anything at all). Didn't mean Blend had suddenly become smart or anything.
"Real smooth technique," Picker said, once her would-be comforter had slunked away.
Blend shrugged. "Got rid of him, didn't it?"
Oh. "So how about that drink, huh?"
"I don't know - what's in it for me?"
Picker grinned. Everybody knew that once you started negotiating, you were as good as sold. "Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while."
.03
"Looks all right, I guess."
Picker wouldn't call herself any kind of expert on taverns - at least no more than any other person who'd been to one once or twice, but she figured there wasn't a whole lot to it, anyway. You just needed the right amount of space and a lot of drinks and people to serve said drinks to people willing to pay for them. Easy. Any retired soldier ought to be able to do it.
"Got it at a real bargain, too," Blend said, looking disgustingly pleased with herself.
Normally, Picker'd have found fault with that statement. She'd seen the numbers, though, and Blend was right: it had been a bargain. "So what's the catch?"
"Why'd there be a catch? Maybe they just liked our faces."
Yeah. Maybe they really liked us having tried to blow up half their city, once upon a time. 'course, we didn't actually do it. Mostly because lots of other people were already busy blowing things up.
"Mine, maybe." People tended not to remember Blend real well, for some reason, assuming they noticed her at all in the first place. That charm again, most likely. Still worked on Picker, too, most of the time, although for some reason, not when either she or Blend or both of them weren't wearing any clothes. Odd, that.
Good thing people on watch duty tended to be fully dressed.
"Well, it's just a rumor," Blend said. "Nothing serious."
Picker got a familiar sinking feeling. "Rumors tend to be that. Doesn't always mean they're not true."
Blend shrugged.
"What's the rumor?" Picker asked. Not that I really want to know, seeing as how my signature's already on the contract and all.
Blend sighed. "Place is supposed to be haunted."
"What, by ghosts and things?"
"By ghosts and things, yes. And other things that, you know, haunt places."
Picker considered. "Long as they pay for their drinks, fine by me."