inconspicuousbusiness

[inconspicuousbusiness]

Spriggan(s)

Beneath the white marbled cliffs of the Mists stood a shophouse. Within that shophouse lived an unlikely couple and their two spriggans. As far as their neighbors and customers knew, they did great business selling home remedies from the Azim Steppes. So great in fact, that the couple always seemed to be on holiday for long stretches of time, leaving their elderly neighbor to spriggan-sit their troublesome sooty children. Today however, ‘Steppe Potions & Remedies’ was back in business. 

Tasked by the blonde haired Hyur, the spriggans had been given a very important job of ensuring that the shop remained free of unwanted visitors. Arlyn had emphasized to them the ‘Banned - Do not Serve’ wall that was filled with photographs of annoying customers.

“No entry,” Arlyn had told them, wagging his finger at them and waving about a colourful retractable presentation pointer. 

But while Dusty patrolled the shop entrance with his rock tucked under one arm and a shoddily constructed Stop sign in the other, Stinky was nowhere to be seen.

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[inconspicuousbusiness]

Prosecutor(s)

Once they had shut the doors to their cabin aboard the airship room, Lyrehl let out an ungodly sound. It was a mix between a groan and a guttural howl. All the irritation she had been bottling up while they wrapped up their affairs in Ul’dah was finally beginning to leave her. Arlyn knew better than to ask if she was alright. So he merely watched as she threw herself onto the bed face first and continued screeching into the linens.

It was a while before she let up, finally raising her head with a sullen look. “Who the fuck was that guy? You seemed to know each other.”

“Drugan Naylor,” Arlyn said as he reached into his luggage and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Someone from my past who’s come back to haunt me.” He collected two glasses from a nearby cabinet and poured a drink for the both of them and offering it to Lyrehl.

“So just get rid of him then. I’m pretty sure we have some favours we can call in in Ul’dah, people who also want to get rid of him.” Lyrehl pushed herself up onto one elbow, picking up the glass in her free hand and taking a sip. “I doubt he’ll be missed anyway, if those were undercover officers he’s shit at choosing people.”

“He’s shit at a lot of things. But what he is good at however is cultivating a lie,” Arlyn said quietly to himself. “The man is a war hero. Respected by many. Loved by all... They call him ‘the merciful’ because he’s known to have stayed his blade from the necks of criminals. Praising his name while murderers and rapists are set free to go on killing. So no, his passing will be missed and we can’t just kill him,” Arlyn said, letting the unbelievable suggestion hang in the air for a moment as he took a sip of wine.

“Wait wait,” Lyrehl gestured with the wine glass. “You’re saying no one at all cares that he’s letting these people go? How has no one at all made the connection? Or is everyone just as incompetent?”

“People only care about what’s in front of them. They don’t care what happens after that.” Arlyn said as he took a seat by the work desk of their cabin, sinking back into the cushioned chair. “They love honor, they love mercy, but rarely do they see the costs of either.” His expression darkened in a manner that was unfamiliar to Lyrehl. As long as she’d known him, Arlyn had been chirpy and unfazeable.

"If they only care about what's in front of them then just get someone to make up some evidence, disgrace him, then off him. Sounds like we'd be doing the entirety of Eorzea a favour anyway." Shrugging, she finished the rest of her wine in one gulp, flicking the tip of her tail up at him as if it really was that simple.

“You don’t understand,” he said, looking straight into her eyes. “We can’t just make up evidence. Nothing that can be posthumously disproved and have him absolved for. No, we need to find things he has actually done. Things that will flip his story on its head.” Arlyn stood up. “And I don’t want to off him. I want to destroy him. I want his legacy to crumble around him and I want him to live to see it.”

This was Arlyn as she had never seen him before and it occurred to her that she knew nothing of his past life. From the day they met, she had always taken the Hyur as he was: cheerful, agreeable, and endowed with a strong sense of justice. Lyrehl knew that he had a capacity for violence--she’d seen his bladework--but nothing ever indicated that he had something as raw as this beneath his amicable surface.

As he stood up, she flicked her tail out at him, winding it around his leg and dragging him to her until his face was just inches away from her’s. "You know, you should be like this more often. It's hot."

Arlyn raised an eyebrow and just like that the darkness that weighed down on him seemed to lighten. “Should I now?” he asked, wrapping his hand round her waist. “Aren’t I supposed to balance you out? The calm to your storm?”

"Mmm, maybe. But that's not fun if it's all the time, right?" With a swift motion, she pushed him on his back so that she straddled him, her pale blonde hair brushing against his neck as she whispered in his ear. "If you keep being like that then maybe I'd even have to keep you."

“I’ll take that as an invitation to be a little more vicious...Just for you,” Arlyn chuckled before kissing her deeply.

Perhaps the leash wasn’t so bad.

[inconspicuousbusiness]

Crime(s)

Continuation from Victim(s)

Arlyn sat in the waiting area of the guard station, bouncing his leg impatiently with his fingers interlaced. He had grown terribly worried after Lyrehl hadn’t appeared for lunch and by late afternoon he was scouring the streets for his partner. It wasn’t long before he had been informed by the local guards that she had been involved in a stabbing.

Anxiety filled him. Not only for her safety--knowing her, it was more likely that she had been the one who’d have done the stabbing.-- But attracting unwanted attention was never a good thing in their line of business. Doubly so in Ul’dah.

It wasn’t long before he was escorted inside by a bored looking city guard. Moving past the doors under ancient sandstone arches that were part of the walls of the city itself, Arlyn soon found himself in what appeared to be an office. Officers milled about paper-stacked desks of investigators and admin clerks. Beside one of them was Lyrehl, draped in a blanket, cupping a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. Though her shoulders hunched low and her demeanour appeared meek, he could tell from the twitching of her tail that Lyrehl was livid.

“Darling!” he called out to her, rushing to her side and embracing the ‘traumatized victim’. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

Lyrehl leaned right into him, nodding ‘shakily’ and showing him the bandage that ran the length of her forearm. She didn’t say a word, not trusting that her irritation wouldn’t show in her voice.

“She’s fine, sir.” said the officer who had spent the last half hour questioning her. Getting absolutely nothing but a lie-laced sob story. It appeared that he wasn’t totally convinced what she was saying was true, but judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t paid enough to do any further digging.

“Good. Good.” Arlyn brushed his hair back and stood with his arms crossed. “Did you get who was responsible?” The officer shook his head. “If anything, your wife here got them. They’re in the morgue. Though one of his accomplices, bolted.” Arlyn flashed a look at the Xaela before turning back to the man behind the desk. “Have you found him?” “No, and your wife isn’t very forthcoming with his details. She claims to have not gotten a good look at him.”

They both looked to Lyrehl as she nodded slowly. Her tail swishing side to side, indicating she was rapidly approaching critical levels of irritation.

“I’ll take her home,” Arlyn said at last. “Thank you officer. Let us know if you find him.” And with that, the couple headed for the exit.

But before they could leave, a commotion rose from the entryway to the office. Blocking their way out was a man. His brown eyes focused on the couple and finally rested on Arlyn. “You.” he said. “Me?” Arlyn looked up, and his eyes immediately darkened. “Oh.”

“What a coincidence to cross paths like this after all these years...” The man wore the insignia that suggested importance.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Drugan?” Arlyn responds, his voice bordering on sarcasm.

The man gestured at Lyrehl. “I have it on a good account that your… Partner… Committed two counts of murder.”

“Self-defense.” Arlyn replied, looking to the officer next to them, but the man behind the desk had gone to hide behind a stack of paperwork, clearly not wanting to get involved.

“Self-defense doesn’t leave two officers of the law dead in the streets.” Drugan glared at both of them. 

Lyrehl’s tail suddenly stilled, and Arlyn knew full well what it meant. He could feel her shoulders shaking under his arm as slowly, so slowly she raised her head to look at the man. Her voice shook, almost a whisper. “Are you saying that they were officers?”

“They were undercover off-”

The Xaela didn’t wait for him to finish before launching into full hysterics. “Are you saying that Ul’dahn officers are the ones who attacked me?” She shoved her arm in his direction, her eyes wide and gaze darting all over the room. Blood started to very conveniently seep through to stain the bandage. “Are you saying that the people who tried to kill me were officers like you? Are you going to try to kill me? Is this place safe? I don’t want to be here, it's not safe you don’t keep people safe you attack people IT’S NOT SAFE HERE!” Her voice rose into a shrill screech, the last few words shouted loud enough for the entire post to hear, civilian or not.

All the eyes of the station were on her. City guards who were now reaching for snacks. The investigators who were now searching their files for something important they must have missed just moments ago. And the others who like Lyrehl who had been brought in for questioning, wide eyed and not comprehending what they were witnessing.

Drugan was left speechless. He wasn’t sure if anyone was buying her ridiculous act but it was enough to make his eye tic. He was self-assured enough to know that his station and reputation was strong enough to remain firm under such accusations, but knew it would be bad if she continued. Drugan stepped out of the way. “I’ve got my eye on you. Both of you.”

Arlyn hushed her dramatically and gave him a look. “Self-defense.” he repeated, leading Lyrehl away from the station.

--

Dear diary,

I have a confession to make. You are the first of your kind. I have never kept a journal.

Couldn’t be bothered to figure out how. Too busy chasing the life I wanted. Never saw a reason to tether the hope of a future with the sins of the past.

Though now it seems that they are in fact tethered after all. I’m pulling at my leash. I can’t move forward any longer without first going back. Just need to settle one loose end that never could never truly be tied. This loose end is a man. A man I looked up to. Served beside. Killed in his name. The sole reason why I left the Ul’dahn Honor Guard.

6’ 2” Styled brown hair Sharp brown eyes. Father of four. Hero of the Ul’dah Honor Guard. Retired. Now works at the bureau. Has a statue of him as the centerpiece of the memorial, a little ways off Little Ala Mihgo. Loved by many. Celebrated by all. Caused the deaths of over a hundred innocent lives. Through wilful negligence, likely caused the deaths of thousands more.

He’s the sort of man who lets murderers go in the name of mercy. Pushes the rhetoric of forgiveness. Relishes the praise and adoration as his reputation grows. All the while ignoring the guilty as they go on killing. Absent when the victim’s families call for justice.

I guess in a twist of fate, he’s the reason why I have the life I do now. He’s the reason why I wanted justice and why I will accept no substitute. He’s the reason I don’t trust it to be served. Ever. Not by the leaders who sit impotently upon their ivory thrones, eyes turned to faraway wars. Not by the constables on the street who only trust what they see, never questioning the systems that serve the powerful. Not by a universe which conspires to reward the guilty for their crimes.

He taught me that the only way to get justice is to take it. And it is for that reason, I need to destroy him.

Arlyn’s hand freezes in place and the ink from his quill begins to pool on the page. It spreads like black blood from an open wound. He wants to continue--organize his thoughts, like journaling promised it would help him do. But he couldn’t. A decision had already been made.

He lifts the quill and gently drains the rest of it before putting it down.

I’m pulling at my leash, huh?

Arlyn runs his fingers through the length of his blonde hair before tearing out the page of his new journal. Lifting it into the orbit of a nearby candle he sets it aflame and watches as his words turn to ash over the waste bin by his desk.

If he was going to go through with this. He was going to leave no evidence of it.

[inconspicuousbusiness]

Victim(s)

Lyrehl Dazkar was not having a very good day. It was hot, she was sticky, the shop was out of the biscuits she liked–and to top it all off–she was going to be late for lunch with Arlyn.

Looking to shave off five minutes of her walk back to their rented room, she peeked down one of Ul’dah’s many snaking back alleys. That’d at least give her a bit of time to wash up quickly before lunch without causing her to be too late.

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