(1312-11-27) Prince of Cats and the Little Mouse
Summary: Avril runs into Zabien and his boys late at night in the Grand Plaza.
RL Date: 11/27/2020
Related: None
avril zabien 

<Grand Plaza - Marsilikos>

No humble, cobbled, crowded town square, this: the grand plaza of Marsilikos gleams, a true centerpiece of a wealthy, international port city. The marble tiles of the square itself are fitted smoothly together, alternating white and greyish-blue with obsidian equal-armed crosses inset at the intersections. Four raised planters, ten meters square, offer cool travertine seating around swaths of raised ground, grassy and tended in all seasons with foliage best beautiful and suiting to the weather, positioned in each of the corner quadrants of the square, and, in the center, a concrete-laid pool is lined with marble, into which four ichthyocentaurs are pouring cool, clean water from carved vases of striking white marble. On a pedestal half-hidden by the winding tails of the ichthyocentaurs is an ancient obelisk, one solid piece of red granite, imported with great expense from Menekhet, mounting twenty one meters into the sky and casting a winding shadow around the corners of the plaza as the day progresses.

On the western edge of the square a grand marble stairwell overlooks the port and the harbor below; to the north, two strips of marble extend far between the stoate pillars of the marketplace, embracing a well-cultivated spina of greenery.

It is a fall evening. The weather is cool and drizzling.


A small band of five men; all young, well dressed, and a obviously a bit well into a bottle of liquid merriment. Two of the young men have the arms around each other, laughing and singing loudly and quite off key. One of the young men stands out. A youth of unbelievable beauty, with milky white skin, raven black hair of curly locks, and midnight blue eyes. Compared to him, the others are almost unimpressive. Zabien is dressed in a black velvet doublet. A gold silken shirt peaks through the slashes in the sleeves.

Ah late evening in the plaza. It is a time of people staggering home after a night out of drinking and not much else, especially as the weather has grown colder. The plaza is not a place that Avril often find herself at this time of night, usually having made her way back to the dockside, but this evening was different. This evening she had heard of a large gathering of nobles to celebrate a birthday. Nobles wandering home meant a chance for money and after a few small pickpockets she had managed to secure breakfast and a cheap room at the Kraken's Den; a luxury.

But what is this? Zabien and hs entourage coming towards her causes the young girl to pause in her step, watching them closely. Her eyes do come to focus on the beautufl and well-dressed man in the middle. He certainly does stand out. Perhaps another target? It would be difficult with such friends about him, but they did seem quite into the bottle. Decision made at least to enagage, the young girl starts a path to intercept the man and his companions.

Zabien's friend never notices that his purse has been removed from his belt. Fortunately, for him, Zabien is not nearly as nipped as he appears. The eagle-eyed Shahrizai quickly steps in front of the pickpocket. "Hey ho. Where do you think you're going with that?" He raises his eyebrows. He cants his head, "You can hand it over without a fuss and run off into the night like a little mouse, or we can thrash you and just take it from you."

Caught? That seldom happened. She prided herself in getting what she wanted and not being noticed when she did. Avril actually stops in her tracks before the group of men and there is a moment when she seems to be thinking of turning and running. She knew the streets better than most and he rability to run and climb had eluded many a pursuer. Yet, something kept her there and she placed both her hand son her hips and stared directly at the man whom had spoken to her, obviously the leader of this gang of revelers. "I'm sorry? What are you talking about? DO yo umake it a habit to threaten young girls who are alone on the streets at night? Just another self-entitled fuck thinking they are better than everyone else and letting them know..huh?" She scoffs lightly. "I think that one is about to throw up, you may want to step away." He rhand leaves her hip to gesture to one of the men, placing a hand over his mouth.

Zabien merely sidesteps away from the direction that Avril implied. "What I am accusing you of is thievery… " He looks her in the eyes… er.. eye. "Just hand it over you little trollop and the guards won't have to be summoned… or worse." His hand moves to rest on the pommel of his blade. "Now, none of that is necessary is it?" He smiles like the cat that just ate the canary.

Avril casually shrugs her self and stares right back with the eye she actually does have, actually taking a step forward closer to the Prince of the Blood. She does not seem intimidated at all by him, perhaps calling his bluff? Or perhaps he is not bluffing. Nevertheless, she cracks a small smile with her words. "Little trollop? I have been called far worse if your intention was to offend me. Dockside whore. Parentless wretch. You are going to do much better than that." She actually takes the purse out from her pocket and dangles it before him. "Now you can summon the guards. Or you and your enotourage who clearly only exist to placate your ego can strike me down and take it. Honestly, that guy can barely stand up." she starts to point to the other guys. "I have a bigger dick than that guy." The third. "He is on the verg of vomiting…and that last guy, well he might be able to do something but I have crapped bigger than him."

She smiles sweetly and dangles the pouch again. "Let's make a deal…you let me keep half and I leave you and your friends alone forever more. I swear on my other eye."

Zabien bursts into laughter. "I like you, little mouse. You're good, Henri almost deserves to loose his purse. You would have gotten away with it if I hadn't noticed actually."

Henri, whose purse was lifted, has finally realized that he is the one that Zabien was talking about. He puffs up his chest and draws his blade, "Give me back my money you little bitch!"

Zabien puts up his hand. "Henri, put it away."

Henri doesn't.

"I said put it away." Zabien says. This time his voice changes from the smooth, velvety tone to an almost feral growl, which causes Henri to swallow loudly and step back a pace as he sheaths his blade. Zabien looks at the girl. "Do you know who I am, little mouse?"

Was she just defended? That has never really happened before and she actually stands there a moment dumbfounded. Literally speechless for a breif second and that is hard to to with Avril. When Henri draws his blade, she actually takes a step back and draws a rugged dagger from behind her back, perhaps in a back sheath. However when Zabien comes to her aid, it is lowered and she gives Henri a one eyed glare as if to say /you are so lucky/.

There is a causal shrug given from the little mouse. "Part of me could give a fuck. But another part is now curious. From the looks of the way your mother dressed you…someone important. I am leaning towards some sort of noble. Trying to live up to Daddy's expectations. Yet I will give you this…you are not a total donkey dick. Not many people have actually stood up for me."

"I am Prince Zabien Shahrizai." He smirks slightly, "More like living up to the expectations of my grandfather." He leans a little closer. "I'll tell you what, little mouse. You seem to be pretty good at what you do. How are you about keeping your eye and ears open?" He reaches up and fingers his hair from his sapphire blue eyes. "Keep it all and consider it buying your services for the foreseeable future."

She is not one to take charity. She never has and never would. She does have some pride. Yet, here was a Prince offering her a way to earn what she recieved. In her mind that was fair. As he leans closer she takes a breath and holds it, watching him closely and murmuring back in a whisper. "There is little that goes on in the streets that I do not know about Prince Zultan Shut-your-eye." Was she jesting or is that what she heard?

The pouch is tucked back into her pocket and she studies the man a moment, giving a small nod in apparent agreement. "My services? Depsite what I am called..I am not a whore."

Once again Zabien laughs. There is something about the way that he laughs that almost makes others want to laugh with him. Curiously, the other four seem to have taken some unspoken message and have moved a few steps away from the unlikely pair. Zabien looks at Avril, shaking his head, "If I wanted to pay for sex, I would go to a courtesan. I want you to let me know of anything that might be of interest to me. Things happen on the streets that the courts may never know." He looks at Avril, "I am staying at the Shahrizai residence on Kushiel's Avenue. Come find me in the morning and we will discuss terms. Otherwise, I will have to report you to the city guard. Even if it weren't true, they would take the word of a Prince of the Blood over you any day."

Once again the young girl is silent, perhaps pondering what he just said, perhaps trying to think of how she was going to reply. When she does speak her hands move to peak in front of her, words spoken softly from behind her fingers. "I know where it is. I know your guard rotation too." She pauses another moment. "I do nothing for nobody unless it benefits myself. Make it worth my while and you will have your little mouse. I will hear your terms. I expect breakfast. Something warm and nothing sweet. Can you handle that?" Her fingers are lowered and she exhales softly. "And perhaps they would take your word over mine."

Just then one of the city guards walks through the plaza and Avril waves a hand. "Evening Gaspard." The guard waves back and raises a brow. "Staying out of trouble Avril?" A sweet smile is given and she actually steps in and places her arm around Zabien. "Of course, just talking with my good friend Zoran. Three sheets to the wind he is. Making sur ehe knows the way home." The guard shakes his head an continues on. "Morning. Breakfast. Bring your terms, I will have mine."

Not replying, Zabien turns on his heals and starts walking. His entourage all move to catch up with him. Once again, the two singers start in song once again, as another laughs. Henri looks over his shoulder staring daggers at Avril. Zabien says as they walk into the distance, "Come on boys… I think we can catch the last round at the Wine Cellar if we hurry."

As they walk away, Avril opens the pouch and pours the contents into her hand. It is but a few small coins of small denomination. She shakes her head and tucks it back into her pocket, calling out to the departing group, Henri specifically. "You cheap ass bastard!" She then turns and starts heading for the docks. "At least I do not have to pay for breakfast."

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