75th of Zi’Da 719 20th break
It was too risky, too risky to take the form of Jimmy from the totem while Jimmy Fino was still milling around this part of town. Plus Rak had a splitting headache from when he’d formed the totem. How was he to know he wasn’t supposed to rush the creation of that thing?! That night out getting wasted with Zarik had passed so fast at the time, he didn’t realize that it’d take the better part of a trial to make one!
Well, whatever came, he was now the proud owner of a headache and general feeling of malaise. Plus an extra totem in the form of a bone marble. He smiled, slipping the pouch of totems into the breast pocket of his vest. He ducked beneath the threshold of the Prayer Den, an establishment known for its home remedies to cure the ailments of dreadful lucidity.
People gave him odd looks as he entered the Den. One would think they’d be occupied by their obsession with the blessed cap of Pray, but no. They had to gawk at the over-large Lotharro walking into their midst. Rakvald paid them no heed, but settled himself down in a place near the center of the room. Where he’d get a whiff of the fumes before getting a taste of Pray Soup himself.
He sat there for a few moments, going over the past few days events in his mind. The becoming spark was gripping him more recently, and began mingling with that of his Graft spark. He swore they were in cahoots, driving him to extremes and actions and assimilation of new forms and shapes of life. That was the way with sparks, wasn’t it? They’d push you until you lost what you were? Becoming perhaps more than any other. He should’ve listened to Zarikmore carefully.
He set a golden nel in the center of the table. This was no place for courteous service of servers and customers. They knew what everyone came here for, and a slop bowl full of pray soup was just the thing. A runner came by Rakvald’s table, and took the coin. Within bits, a nice hot bowl of Pray was in front of him, he could smell the salt, vinegar, and spice cubes resting inside it.
Taking the ladle, he spooned a bit carefully into his mouth, tilting it backward to taste the hot fluid slowly, savoring it. He had to enjoy the taste before the delirium hit the back of his mind.
It was about then, he half-noticed someone else entering the Prayer Den. It was a tall fellow, well tall by Human standards, with short cropped black hair, in a fancy suit and looking dapper. Why, it was Jim Fino!
Rakvald sat back in his chair, and it wasn’t long before the Pray was lighting up the synapses in the back of his mind. He felt them fizzing and bubbling up among themselves, as if they were in competition to see who could make his brain itch the worst. Anyway, even more interesting, Jimmy Fino was making his way toward Rak’s table!
Within moments he was sliding into the opposite seat. He tapped fingers on the surface of the table, glancing sharply to each side for a few trills. His eyes didn't meet with Rakvald's, but he did half nod to him while his eyes searched the rest of the den.
The fuck is he looking for? Is Jimmy trying to be subtle, because uh... Rakvald lifted a finger for the server, to bring another bowl of soup for his 'companion'. Rakvald wasn't at ease with this situation, but he supposed might as well make the best of it. Perhaps learn more about Jimmy and the totem of the man whose face he intended to assume for his own!
"Jimmy, isn't it?" Rakvald asked, breaking the silence with the unabashed manner that was so typical of him. "Don't see your face around here. Lookin' to get high?"
Jimmy's eyes darted only for a moment toward Rakvald, before resuming their shifty glance to either side. Finally, after what seemed like a few bits, Jimmy stopped with the paranoia routine, and faced Rakvald. It just happened to coincide with the arrival of the Pray soup.
Pray soup was a special concoction, some say developed through alchemical means, or else transmutation. Others claimed it was merely a psychedelic mushroom bred and grafted with blood grapes. Whatever the case, it imparted a variety of effects, ranging from vivid visions, down to full on relaxed stupors. Rakvald wasn't sure which one he himself was after. Yet he felt the former could do Jimmy some good.
"Listen big guy," Jimmy started, "I need a favor, and I hear your the guy to go to..."
Rakvald's breath caught in his throat. Damnit, did he know?! About the toe clipping!? About the monkey, and about it's connection to Rakvald? Shit.
On a level the Lotharro almost wanted him to turn him into the guard, for some corporal punishment of non-consensual toe clipping. It wasn't that serious afterall... and...
"I need..." Jimmy started, but Rakvald cut him off before he explained any further.
"Listen, Jimmy, I can grow your toe back, I can throw in a free dental makeover, even give you some body enhancements... But that's where I draw the line. I ain't a thug or toe thief for hire..."
Jimmy stared blankly at him, and then frowned, "Toe... thief? Are you..."
"Oh shit, no. I'm not the one who took your toe... that was... some monkey or something, right right?!"
Addled by Pray was perhaps not the best way to cover up for one's crimes. So Rakvald was learning. He noticed that Jimmy hadn't sampled his own soup. Slowly, a crocodile smile crept across sly Jimmy's face, as he seemed to consider the Lotharro's predicament. Now he knew, now they were on a level playing field. All it took was to confront the Lotharro. Man, Zarik would be so disappointed in his pupil!
"Ahh, yeah I heard word that it might've been you. You're a known becomer afterall, learned from that wago Zarik back before he skipped town."
"He ain't a wago! He's a good kid! I mean... He probably likes guys too but, I wouldn't call him a wago! Fucking rude, man!" Rakvald's face went red with forced fury. He was desperately trying to claw some leverage, but he'd lost it the moment he let the cat out of the bag about stealing Jimmy's toe. So it was.
"I can forgive your stealing me toe. And yes I would like to grow another one, but not yet. I have some, er... set-up to get right before we can accomplish that."
Rakvald didn't know what he meant by set-up, but he didn't like the sound of it. Was he gonna make a dead-man's switch against Rakvald? Aww shit, was Rakvald gonna have to guard his pansy ass from people trying to kill him?! He didn't have time for that!
"So what you want?"
"It's simple. I want you to take out the girl I was with, and show her a good time."
Rakvald's breath caught again. What was Jimmy playing at? Take his favorite girl out? And who was paying? Jimmy had expensive tastes, afterall...
"Don't worry, I'll make sure her madam is compensated." Jimmy assured him, and slid over a few golden nels for Rakvald, presumably for just that purpose. "Now, it can't happen in a trial, or even two tentrials. We'll need to wait a season for the heat to die down on your little... escapade."
"Yeah?" Rakvald droned, and then sighed out. Truth be told, he was a bit relieved at this turn of events. Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad! Unless of course Jimmy didn't call it quits at calling in this one favor. Rakvald didn't have time to be his errand boy, anymore than he could bodyguard him!
"What you want me to take her out on the town, show her a good time, that it?"
"Yes to all that. But once it's done, you gotta do one more thing."
"Yeah, what?"
Here, Jimmy adopted a sly smile, and shrugged, "Use your imagination, Rak. We ain't in the business of hiring babysitters, if you know what I mean?"
Rakvald froze.
"Shit." Kill the girl? Or falcon punch? Or...? Rakvald didn't like this, and it must've shown on his face.
"Listen, I lent you my toe, I think the least you can do is this small favor for me. What say you, Rakvald?"
What could Rakvald do? He agreed, took the sum, and stumbled out of the Prayer Den, the appointment having been established. Once he made it out of there, he lost his prayer soup in the alley beside the den. He suddenly felt very sick.
