Not What It Looks Like

Kinokinaver played it fast and loose with the law. Negotiator, smuggler, trader. He wore a lot of hats with an unsavory tilt, working in shadows to keep the family name a little neater, a little cleaner. It brought him to places he’d rather not spend an entire night, but there was something charming about the compact, sweltering warehouses at the docks. A place he was intimately familiar with now.

Smoke curled away from the slender wooden pipe while he leaned against one of the long crates. Another was pried open by some large thug. Hired hands from one client. Technically, he was a go between. A face for the trade so neither could see the actual of the other side.

He liked to think of himself as a facilitator of profit.

Sea and sweat lingered in the air. A handful of other men, dock workers and whatever else, had gathered around. Either as a show of force or just out of idle curiosity, Kinokinaver wasn’t entirely sure but he didn’t exactly care either.

He pulled another long drag of the sweet weed while one bolt of intricate print silk was lifted. Absently, he noted the quality. Likely rich vnou but nothing noble. Nothing he needn’t really worry about. This was small fry smuggling, playing at games. Which meant the profit he’d make off of this shipment wouldn’t be much, either.

The vnou running the show was a tall brute. A big guy with thick muscles and tattoos that probably had stories. A handful of piercings glinted in the overhead lights. He’d spent a lot of time poking fun at Kinokinaver’s exotic, foreign dress. Too much silk, too many layers in the warmth. Not a noble, nothing rich, but cut in an odd way the man had never seen before. Best to mock the thing he didn’t understand.

“This doesn’t look like it all,” the man started. Kinokinaver could see the start of the confrontation bubbling at his surface thoughts. Working up to how he was going to cheat Kinokinaver. Get something out of this deal and the tiny foreigner.

He straightened and tapped his pipe to empty it of the small ember before tucking it in the black and gold silk sash around his waist. Then, as though to remind the man, he tapped the tag hanging from his ear. A registration tag. “I’m not here to do business, Ingundimbur. That was long concluded and I’m not authorized to do it.” The tag denoted him a lower Shra. Almost property himself, in some circles. Certainly not qualified to make decisions on price adjustments.

The man’s dark gaze flicked to the silver tag hanging like a beacon. Obvious. None of his guys had them. Likely meant they were all Kuad or Dez. Higher Shra amongst the common vnou.

Then, with one of his smooth smiles, he held out his hands. “Let’s not sour a good thing with any bad decisions.” Giving the man an out.

Let it go.

It was a subtle prod. A slipped suggestion filtered through the man’s pathetic shields and implanted. He could see the moment it took root and the brute rolled his shoulders in a shrug and glanced back at a couple of his men. “Get this shit loaded up.”

Good boy.

Kinokinaver’s smile remained as he pulled the touch screen from his deep pocket and presented it to the client. “Just a tap here to acknowledge the transfer…” Just a tap and he’d be on his way. Goods delivered, payment rendered.

Another still hesitation before one of the man’s meaty fingers smudged the bright screen. The fingerprint was read, the account accessed, and the deal was made.

Kinokinaver dipped a low, flourished bow. “And with that, gentleman, our business is concluded.”

“Why don’t you stay? Entertain some of the guys?” A barked suggestion from someone in the crowd. The sort of low grade thing called to Shra when others thought they could get away with it. Rude, really. Crass. He considered it a compliment and tutted.

“Please, I must away. Dha calls.” An easy out. And a reminder. Bya belonged to another. It was illegal to act against another’s property. Not that criminals would mind too much breaking just one more law – they were already stealing and smuggling goods. What was one more, right?

Silk was one thing. The mental contract and binding relationship between Bya and Dha was quite another. Even common thugs hesitated before crossing that particular line. Superstition and social pressure tended to keep them in line.

When no response was forthcoming, Kinokinaver spun on his heel and sauntered away. He figured the matter settled, so he put the dock and the workers at his back so he could pick his way through familiar streets and back toward a more populated area where he could call himself a ride. There was no way he wanted anyone knowing he’d been that far back in warehouses.

He hummed softly to fill the oppressive quiet of the dead streets. It was much too late for any work to be going on – which was why they’d picked that time to make the deal to begin with – and he wasn’t too concerned about drawing attention to himself. Ideally, the only vnou present were the ones he’d left behind to do whatever it was they wanted with the things he’d had dropped off earlier. What was shipped, smuggled, stolen, traded or otherwise was never his concern. Not really.

He did like to make note when something especially interesting passed through but he never interfered. Not his problem, not his deal.

Kinokinaver was in the process of restuffing his pipe when he noted the echo of steps behind his own. He sighed a little while he lit the end of the long stem pipe. He’d really hoped that they would leave well enough alone and he’d be able to retire to his hotel room. Have a nice rinse, get the smell of salt, fish, and filth off of him, before he soaked in some sweet scented oils in the tub. Maybe get a rub down…

The foot steps quickened. Not a run, just lengthened stride.

He took a deep inhale, considered his options, and made to turn and address the men that no doubt intended on harassing him for whatever reason.

Before he could see who had come, with whatever intention, before his mind could begin to touch theirs, a dark shadow fell from the nearest warehouse and cut across the two dock workers. They dropped quietly. Wet and heavy. There were a couple strangled gasps and gurgles through slit throats but they stilled quickly.

Kinokinaver took a deep draw of his pipe before letting out the sweet smoke in a slow exhale. The fallen shadow took a step forward while he wiped the blade clean. < Why does everyone always want to kill you? > The question was an invasive thought. Not his own, though it made Kinokinaver grin at its source. The shadow that approached and, after a moment’s consideration, reached out with gloved fingers to tug on the registration tag. < You need to stop taking this. >

He winced a little at the pull on the piercing before he turned to continue his walk, expecting the shadow to fall in step. They almost did. Half a step behind. < I like it. It’s a good disguise. Besides, what’s the point in paying to have my information altered if I don’t use it? > Kinokinaver could hear the exhale through the mask covering the lower half of the shadow’s face. < Is that possessiveness? Want your tag back? >

When no answer was forthcoming, Kinokinaver glanced over his shoulder to see that he was once again alone. Scoffing aloud, he added, < Just because you can flip off and away without me noticing doesn’t mean you get the last ‘word’. I can bother you the entire way back to the hotel room. > Though it was a very real threat, he let a companionable quiet settle between them.

Not because he thought the shadow deserved it, but because he really didn’t want to distract his Bya while the vnou was skulking through the shadows.

The ride back to the hotel took longer than he wanted. Travel and traffic, even late, was slow. Getting someone to drive out to the docks was a pain enough. Then to cross the city, away from the warehouses, through residential and downtown, to the high rise hotel where he had a room reserved, had him irritable and ready for the night to be over.

When he finally opened the door, his Bya was sitting on the couch. Leaning forward with his arms braced on his knees, dressed down in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. Looking wildly unassuming. Like he hadn’t been crawling all over the city and still managed to beat Kinokinaver back to their room. Red eyes remained downturned at the hotel floor, an indication that his Bya wasn’t exactly happy, while Kinokinaver picked his way across the main room and toward the bedroom.

< Come on. I’m tired… > He made sure his Bya could feel the weariness, the want to rest and relax.

< I don’t know why you don’t just take me… > came the grumbled response as, reluctantly, Denetanorishon slid from the couch and tailed after him. Taller than Kinokinaver. Broader. Built to fight and kill, as he had earlier. A trained Zhu’Drahinuaw Nuus – assassin. His family would drain his accounts and throw him out if they knew.

Kinokinaver’s look was telling as he sized up his Bya. < You’re intimidating, Dene. One look at you and anyone itching for a fight is going to be pressed to do it just to prove they can, especially when I’m out numbered. >

< You don’t think I can fight? > It was rare to hear his Bya insulted.

Kinokinaver just laughed, hooking his fingers down the front of his Bya’s jeans to pull him toward the bathroom. < No. I just don’t want a reputation of having everyone I deal with killed. >

Context

Kino is participating in a trade deal he's set up as a Negotiator. This small snippet gives a brief glimpse into what that is sort of like and touches on what it means to be a Bya in vnou society. It's also a small introduction into their relationship.

Characters

Kinokinaver

Dya'Shra-Pra Kinokinaver Sid'Shrie

Denetanorishon

Dya'Shra-Kuad Denetanorishon Zhu'Drahinuaw