#[animal planet narraitor] and here we see a paranoid addict learning to trust

[ifyougochasingrabbits]

TW: Mention of violence, mention of death, mention of slavers. Feat. Xana'h Nbolo

Xana'h mumbles to himself as he shuffles up the stairs and down the narrow hallway towards the alchemists' guild. He chews on the butt of his unlit cigarette like he means to eat it, and his fingers are knotted together in front of him, pulling at joints and picking at claws. As he rounds the corner, he nearly misses White Rabbit in the corner and internally debates on whether he should just pretend he didn't see her or stop. Xana'h Nbolo stops, on the first step up, and turns slowly to look at her from behind glasses perched high. "What an interesting and benevolent sight you are, for once, White," he drawls, shuffling closer. The closer he gets, the quieter his voice, until it's near a mumble under his breath. "What a strange place to find you, dipped into a dark corner around this part of the city."

White stood leaning against the hallway's wall, her gaze had followed each and every single person who passed through over the bell or two, maybe even three that she had been there. Waiting. Watching for someone. She hadn't seen them yet. Who she did see pulled her ever-present smile into a smirk as she tilted her towards him a little bit. "Is it? Really that strange to see me. Here?" She stared through his shades, making note of how he moved. "It's just a hallway. To the alchemists' guild." White Rabbit stole a glance past him down the hall towards said guild. A super quick one. Her gaze was back on his before he knew it. "Are you goin' there? Are you buyin'? What are you gettin'? Is it somethin' fun~"

Xana'h shrugs and tilts his head this way and that. "Not in the city, no, but up here, near there," he gestures towards the guild. "You're as nosey as ever, though, it seems. I am going near there, yes, to... chat. Not buy. Because no one is selling." His teeth grind at the butt of his cigarette, and he makes to dismiss their conversation out of irritation before he remembers why he stopped at all. "Whiiiite," he coos, tilting his head so far to one side his neck makes a discomforting, but relieving crack. "You like to keep your ears close to the ground, yes? You like to eavesdrop and know things, right? I couldn't bother you about hearing something going around the rumor mill, could I?"

White narrowed-eyed in amusement. She was torn between opening her mouth and saying she knew or keeping it shut. She compromised with herself, opening her mouth to ask, "There's always somethin' goin' around the rumor mill." Was she going to be that way? Yes. She was. Curious about a lot of things that she just had to wait to have answered. "You'll have to tell me what kind, you see? If you want me to know which it might be." She had a feeling she already did. Like he said, people weren't selling.

Xana'h tongues at the butt of his cigarette, moving it from one corner of his mouth to the next. It remains unlit, which is unusual given the time and place. His fingers won't stop fussing with the hems of his coat. He moves to stand right next to White, back up against the wall, and a sigh leaves his lips. "Fences are running scared and refusing to work because a couple were found killed in Thanalan. Would any of your guard friends know more about that?"

White watched the movement of his fingers out of the edge of her gaze, her own creeping around his waist when he moved next to her. She'd leave her arm there, around him if he let her as she leaned in, looking up at him smiling a knowing smile. "How many is a couple? Two? Three? What have you heard, Stargazer?"

Xana'h frowns, moreso at her words than at the hand around his waist. He doesn't move to keep her from touching him, but his tail flicks and his ears twitch. "A couple is a couple, it's two. Do you know or don't you, if not I have other people to talk to."

White frowns back at him, but it's a forced one. The corners leveled out, then curled back up to the slight smile she always held if it wasn't something smirky or devious. Or some mixture of both. It wasn't either now. "I do." She gave him that, but reminded him, maybe annoyingly, "We both know, Stargazer. Most of that kind of know isn't cheap. Or free. But I'll give you a little somethin'. Seein' I'm a kind woman. Don't think you'll get anythin' over at the guild. I already asked. They don't know shite. Not the right kind."

This time, Xana'h does take a step away and swats at the arm around his waist. "Fine. How much are you asking?" It isn't so much that he's annoyed at her for charging - business is business, and they are, if anything and only, business partners - but the entire situation has him on edge in a way that he hasn't been in years and it's, admittedly, a little scary.

White could have asked for coin, it was king in the city. And really anywhere for that matter. She didn't. "One favor." Between them she lifted a finger, reaching out to give a tap on the tip of his nose. "I think that's a good trade! A won-der-ful one. Don't you?"

Xana'h scrunches his nose and frowns further. "I don't do favors. Why can't you just ask for coin like every other bastard in this city? It's not like I'm spending it on anything with the recent happenings."

White gave him a look, the kind that asked, 'really?'. "How much are you goin' to need when you can get it? Again." She smiled. "It's just one favor. Only one!"

Xana'h rolls his eyes behind his glasses. "What is the favor?" He asks, then adds hastily. "I'm not agreeing to it! I want to know what it is before I answer."

White lifted her shoulders into a shrug. "I don't know. I don't need one yet! But when I do..." Leeeeaning his way, onto one foot she peered up under his shades. "I'll call on you." She yoinked herself back down onto two feet, leaning against the wall again. "It will be a fair trade! I'm not goin' to ask you to put yourself in harm's way. Or somethin' Similar. No, I couldn't! Wouldn't. Can't do that. I'd miss that face too much."

Xana'h follows her face with his own, making sure she can’t see under his glasses. If she does manage to sneak a peek, his eyes are a little red rimmed and bloodshot. "Oh no, I trust your favor wouldn't be dangerous, I suspect it will be annoying though," he huffs and clicks his tongue. "Don't be telling anyone else I gave you a favor - that is not something I trade for. But this one time... fine. Awful creature. Now talk."

White did indeed sneak a little peek, making a note. "I won't tell a single livin' soul. Not one!" Her smirk that had claimed her lips softened as she did what he wanted and talked in a hushed voice, "There were four. Of them. Not countin' another. Or the others. That might be connected." Slipping half a step over she bumped into him. "They have red makin', you see? Ones on their face. Do you know about them? What they mean?" She did. "Slavers."

Xana'h clicks his tongue, but not at White this time, and sneers, showing fangs. "So I'd heard that they might've been. Feckin' perfect, that regular fences are too scared to show their faces because some slavers got themselves into trouble, I'd feckin' strangle their lights out too." His brows furrow as a hand comes up to rub at his temple. "I know one was found in the south and I haven't been able to travel there either."

White let her gaze wander, following his hand. "There was one in the east." She started to count on her fingers, starting with and her index pressing against the other. "He had his throat ripped out." Then to the middle, ring, and back to the index it returned. "There were four in a house. A small house. One in the Golden Bazaar. It's said it was a bloodbath. Three of them had the same markin's. One. Didn't. Nothin' was taken. Same with the one in the east. Except his throat."

Xana'h blinks at her, startled. That's a lot more than a couple, but then again no one really wanted to talk about it. The group he frequented didn't do slavers, it's why he liked doing business with them, and talking about them was inviting trouble. "I know of the one in the Bazaar. All else hasn't really been spoken about," he shakes his head. "I don't care that they're dead, they're better for it, but for feck's sake could it have been done quieter? Who the feck is going about making such a show and scaring the rest of the underground economy into the shadows?"

White stared at him a moment. Then a moment more. Her mouth kept shut the entire time until she agreed, "They are. Better. Six fulms under." She figured his question was one of those rhetorical one. Her lips parted, just a tiny bit as if to say something. She didn't, pressing them back together into a smile.

Xana'h squints at her. His stash may be thinning, and a headache on the rise behind his temples, but he swear he catches White readying to say something, and saying nothing at all. Which is weird, for White, to shut up about something. "What is it?" He asks, bringing his hand down and folding his arms in front of him. "You looked like you had more to say and my gripes are done."

White arched a brow, asking, "Did I? I think your shades have a smudge, Stargazer." as the other followed close behind.

"And I think you realized that whatever your favor is isn't enough to say what it is you wanted to say," Xana'h tilts his head to one side, grinning but it sits sharp and a little wrong. "Let me put it like this - you and I have no business until this gets resolved. I have no product to sell because I'm using it for me. This shite domino effect is ruining those of us who are trying to keep a moral leg up on slavers and we've been lumped in with them anyway. So if you have something to say, White, say. It."

"What I realized, Stargazer—" the little name White gave him sharpened as it slipped past her toothy grin, "is that. It might be better. If you don't. Know." Her words slowed, losing that sharpness that pointed to poke at his ears. "I think they're a mage." she shared anyway. "The one who's doin' all—" Lifting a hand she waved it around. "this."

Xana'h narrows his eyes at her. "What makes you think it's a mage?"

White slowly reached a finger out, trying to hook it on the sash tied around his waist. "It's really dry here. In the city. Outside of the city. Inside buildin's that are outside of the city. It'd be strange, so very weird, so odd to find one with a room completely wet anywhere. But here? Of all places." She wondered if he could keep up.

"I'm assuming it was wet with something other than the blood leaking out of their torn open throats?" Xana'h guesses, as he finally goes digging through his coat for a match. "I would've thought someone let a hungry, wild animal in the room with them. Hands off, but the same outcome - dead."

White shook her head. "Their throats weren't torn open. Or out. Not like that other guy." She added on, confirming that, "The room was. Wet. Damp-like. With water. Not blood."

Xana'h mouths the word 'water' like he's trying to decipher what that means. "So it's either a conjurer, or a thaumaturge and the ice melted," he decides. "Either one making a scene like this would make sense; one doesn't know better and the other just doesn't give a shite." He hums as he lights his battered cigarette, and as the smokes it the violent flicking of his tail becomes smoother, swaying. "I'll keep that in mind. Anything else?"

White added a third option, "Or they're sendin' a message." She eyed the cigarette. If it was any other time her hand would have been already halfway to plucking it out of her mouth, but it wasn't.

Xana'h scoffs. "It's slavers. You can send a message by killing them quietly, I assure you. By making this big to-do, now every fencer, not just the ones that have no morals, are afraid of getting mistaken for the wrong people."

"Which makes it more difficult for the slavers. If fences. Any of them aren't sellin' do you think they're buyin'? No. Nonononono." White shook her head towards him, whispering out, "They're not." Standing up she shrugged. "But what do I know." A lot. "I'm just a silly little rabbit."

"Can't buy from dead people," Xana'h grouses. "Look, there's no winning in this, but there's a better way to do it. Lots of us can't do work now because of this, and I can't get any of what I need." He shoves his fingers underneath his glasses and rubs his eyes. He looks like he wants to ask something, but instead says, "If this keeps up for a week, don't come looking for me. I'll be of no use for your favor, nor will I be in the mood to see anyone."

White let out a small chuckle behind a smile that looked a little strained. Or it could have been the bad lighting. "No. You can't. Unless you can talk to the dead. Can people do that? Talk to them. Would that mean you could buy from them too?" That train of thought veered onto another track, the look on his face being the lever that changed it over. "What is it?" she asked the familiar question. If he thought she'd leave it at just the question, he'd be wrong. "What were you goin' to say? To ask? Come on, stargazer. I told you. Didn't I? Think of it as another trade~"

"I'm sure some people can try to. I've heard White Mages can do ridiculous things, so why not talk to the dead?" Xana'h follows her silly train of thought, hoping she'll keep on it until she doesn't. He sighs into his hands, and brings them back down to fuss with his sash. "Can you... check on the house, in a week's time. I can't be there until this is shite has worked itself out, but I can't leave the house empty." He keeps it vague, but he thinks she'll be able to pick up on it just fine.

White let out an amused huff, thinking the whole talking to the dead was silly. They're dead. But the train was past that. She stared at him through his shades, breaking away to watch his fussy hands a moment. Only a moment. Her gaze returned back on up. "I. Can. Do that."

Xana'hsucks in a long drag and lets the smoke billow out thick through his nose. "Great," he says, like it's the easiest thing in the world to ask for help. "Thanks for the information. I'm still going to go talk to some people at the guild, ask some things that you don't need to know." He points a clawed finger at her, but smirks for the first time today. "Stars be with you or whatever."

White smirked a big smirk, one that pulled horn to horn and rounded her cheeks that pushed her gaze into a squint. "I don't? Now I'm curious. How can I not be? When you say it like that." Maybe she'd go poking her nose. Or she'd just make him think she would. There were choices. "I'll see you." She gave him a wiggly wave of her fingers in farewell, staying where she was to people-watch a little longer.