skills

Once Ice saw that I agreed with Caban, or atleast wouldn't join her in resisting Caban's newest plan, she became cross. The rest of the time spent in the Jump Bar involved her trying to needle me into irritation, which might have worked better if I could have heard anything over the noise.
At one point she called my abilities into question, implying that maybe we did need new crew because I wasn't good enough. Sometimes her moods get sharper than her namesake. But we all have tempers.
"What can you do, Scout?" she asked.
"I can reveal past aliases and outstanding warrants." I shot back. I'm never sure if threats work with her. Of course, Caban didn't pick up on the hostility, or perhaps he chose not to acknowledge it.
"Come on, Scout, show us a trick!" he said, pressing me for entertainment. I am not here for entertainment. I am here for information. But what else could I do? After looking around for a moment, I got up and moved through the crowd. Dancers, crushed together, are easy targets. They don't care who is moving against them, they don't notice jostling or exploring hands. Barely worth the talent I've developed.

Within a minute or so I returned to the table with three money wallets, tossed them in front of the crew. Ice pretended not to be pleased, Caban laughed joyfully.
"Well. I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Always useful."
"Live like this, you get bored." I replied, borrowing those long-ago words from the man who taught me to pick pockets. For a moment I remembered all the clubs we'd worked over, the idle time spent lifting coin and, when Lys was feeling particularily mischevious, replacing the empty wallets. He had a harder time moving unnoticed through crowds than I do. We're both ghosts.


We didn't return the money wallets, but Caban was spotted leaving them in the trash, which is why we left slightly sooner than expected, and reminds me why I am glad that they do not allow weapons of any sort in Jump Bars.

Sometimes words are the only weapons we can weild.