"Captain's" Log, Ninth Entry

He knows who I am. Who I was, what I used to do. What's worse, he had the gall to allude to it over breakfast yesterday, with everyone present. I damn near lost my temper with him. What right does he have to my past? My life? Can't he just leave well enough alone, let things lie? Suppose I should've known better than to think he wouldn't snoop 'til he learned just about every fucking thing there is to know about us. Suppose I should also be grateful he had to good grace not to spill everything right there and then. It's only a matter of time until the others find out, but when they do, I want them to hear it from me, not some information broker.
 
Worst of all, he mentioned that "he" was looking for me. Didn't have to ask who "he" was. He said he was familiar with the man, because of course he fucking is, and shares my distaste for him. The pompous twit that calls himself captain doesn't know I'm in Geldris, praise the gods, but what I can't shake is the question of why he's after me in the first place. I thought I'd made my point when I left - I only spared him my vitriol out of respect for my crewmates and a sense of self-preservation. Maybe if I see him again I'll tell the damned vulture exactly what I think of him. Probably won't keep him away from me, but it'll sure as shit make me feel better.
 
The matter at hand, though. According to Mr. Smoke's information, Akahiro's estate has no windows, save for a couple of greenhouses on the upper floor. We believe he keeps part of his collection in one of them, and in all likelihood, Birb's sister is in there. The trick is slipping in, causing a huge commotion, and getting out. If we can do it without making a mess, Mr. Smoke says he can make our bounties go away. Didn't need an incentive not to murder anyone, but it's good to know regardless. Geldris is dangerous enough without a price on our heads.
 
Our good pal Taka's hosting a masquerade tomorrow evening. Mr. Smoke recommended us a tailor, and can get us identification and invitations. It was pricey, but at least it'll get us inside without much issue. We seem to have a habit for seizing on opportunities and getting results, so it's my hope that once we're in we'll be able to improvise a solution. It'll be rough, but that's what Mr. Smoke wants.
 
There was something else Mr. Smoke mentioned. Slippery Jack. I thought of them when we were talking about getting into the Golden Phoenix. Last time I saw them they were drunk on brandy, going over some new scheme of theirs, getting a guard posting in the Phoenix so they could get paid to sit on their ass all day and take the occasional bribe. It went sour, and the authorities took their hand for it - and not all at once, either. A few years ago, I'd have chided them for getting sloppy, but now I'm just angry at this cesspool of a city and what passes for justice here. If we had the time, I'd offer the find the ones that passed the sentence and do some taking of my own, see how they like being on the other end of the knife.
 
Mr. Smoke helped them out, apparently. Got them a new name, a job washing dishes at a cafe in the Brass Shark. When I heard that, I had my doubts. There had to be a catch, right? But when I asked them myself about the arrangement, they said that beyond the occasional favor, he had done it entirely out of the goodness of his heart.
 
He asked us yesterday if we trusted him, seemed disappointed when most of us didn't. Despite myself, I'm feeling a small pang of guilt over that. Spying aside, I'm willing to admit I might've misjudged him. I'll withold further judgement until after the job.
 
The masquerade's tomorrow. We'll just have our costumes, masques, and whatever tools we can smuggle through the checkpoint. Jack gave us a few hints to act on once we're there. I'm a little worried about how the others will fit in, but they've surprised me before, and I'm sure they'll do it again. We seem to have a knack for getting into these kinds of situations - time to see if we can get ourselves out.