Log: Kozec
Summary: K'aus confronts Skinner about the stranger he was talking to on the docks. June plays more of a supporting role, but she's there.
Location: The Lucky Seven, Ista Weyr
Date: 8-21-09
An air of boisterous high spirits buoys the crowd that's stuffed into The Lucky Seven this balmy summer evening. It's an oddly more female crowd, too, especially with that corner table full of young women enjoying flaunting their girls night out among all of their eyeballing male counterparts. Several points, such as the line of barstools and the game room, holding the modest poker tournament of the week, seem to draw people magnetically, leaving most of the chairs and tables abandoned, at least until people get too drunk to stand.
Like just about every other man in the room, Skinner's made his attempt to horn in on the ladies' night action over there. Like every other man who's tried, he's been shunted off, but he plays it like he expected (and asked) no more than a minute to enjoy their company, so at least he leaves on a good note. And better yet, there are women who do tolerate him here, because it's their job, and he has no shame in seeking one of them out and flopping himself onto a chair next to her. "Evening, Valenia," he says with a tooth-sparkling smile.
The infirmary attendants will notice he's gone at some point, and someone will likely have some words to say about his premature checkout, which leaves K'aus just enough time to make it through the jungle and into the Seven before he's discovered. He limps in, still sporting facial injuries and looking like he needs a good bath, his clothes are disheveled, and he's a little hunched over with his arm around his middle, but the second he's inside he straigtens and tries to put on a composure he doesn't actually possess. The way to the bar is the path he chooses, that is until he sees Skinner. Instant redirection.
Valenia beams up at Skinner when he makes his appearance, calling out an eager, "Hi, Skinner!" a second after her lively gaze lands on him. She engages him in the babbling pleasantries she specializes in, even going so far as to offer him a sip from the colored concoction sitting in front of her, one of her own super-sweet inventions. But as soon as a darted glance alerts her of K'aus' approach, she's excusing herself. "Sorry," she prefaces genuinely, the look she gives Skinner pointed with some vague warning. Something's amiss. She doesn't even pause to fluff her skirts. "I have to, uh, switch shifts with... Livi." No one can accuse her of being a good liar. She remembers to snag her drink, but only just, before she skims off through the crowd.
Valenia's bubbly pleasantries are well-received, and Skinner does dare to try her sugar concoction, even if he does admit, honestly, that it's too sweet for him, sweets. With a wink. And then K'aus has to come and spoil everything! He makes a sad moue at Valenia as she gets up, but he's not mean enough to call her on that transparent excuse. Let her escape. He'll shift his attention beyond her, finding K'aus, and waiting for the man to get within a few strides of the table before speaking to him. "Well, you certainly took the shit end of that one, didn't you?" For all the world he acts as though he's perfectly comfortable here, thank you, but he pushes his chair out just a bit and readies his muscles. If K'aus comes at him like he did for that stranger the other day, Skinner's ready to run for it.
It's probably a good thing Valenia retreats. She's too nice to have to see K'aus close up right now, Skinner will discover that it's a great deal uglier a situation the closer he gets. However, the brownrider's black gaze, blacker still for the bruising around one eye, does follow the sister until it doesn't; he knows she might bring reinforcements and after the incident with the sailors he's more wary of large groups. But it's Skinner he's here for and it's Skinner he addresses, bypassing his rhetorical and going straight for, "How the fuck do you know him, where is he, why is he here." He's stopped at the table, using it to lean his hip and take some of his weight at least off one leg.
Reinforcement, maybe, but June is far from an imposing group. Smiling wide as ever, she emerges from the same general direction that Valenia disappeared in, and sways her way over to the table that's become the site of interrogation, taking measure mostly of K'aus' appearance as she approaches. With a single smooth question, she breaks in, "Can I get you boys anything?" It's harmless, sure, mundane even, but there's something in the way she looks at each of them during it that's a reminder: she's here, she will be watching.
However much more gruesome K'aus appears from close up, Skinner doesn't seem to notice. His gaze doesn't leave the brownrider's, but there's nothing to be read in his face right now, either: his thoughts are screened. "He's a business associate," the salesman answers simply, then turns to meet June with a smile. "Some beer and pretzels?" he suggests, spreading that smile wider and turning the charm up to 11. Wordless reminder gets wordless answer: I'm behaving normally.
K'aus is staring down at Skinner and seething so very angrily under the surface when June approaches. And in her lies the reason for his 'good behavior', it did still before she even came into the picture. Without looking at her he says defensively and perhaps unnecessarily so, "I'm not doing anything wrong." But Skinner's made an order and there are people here, and he's sort of trying to keep a low profile at the moment, so he chooses the available seat, probably the one Valenia just abandoned, to carefully lower himself into with a wince.
June says nothing. She nods simply at Skinner's order then pins her gaze on K'aus. It stays there even after his little defense, an intent warning as she turns to go. It had better stay that way, nice and knifeless. A minute later, she returns unobtrusively at Skinner's elbow, planting the requested beer and small bowl of pretzels onto the table before turning to other business.
During that minute she's away, Skinner leans his elbow on the table. As in, he might still run if K'aus lunges for him, but he's no longer poised for it. "So what was that all about, anyway?"
Meaning K'aus cannot, for he chooses not to, answer until June goes away again. When she comes with the order he looks up at her, steadily pinning her under his stare whether she notices or not, it doesn't matter. And when she's gone again he looks across at his companion. Now that Skinner has his beer and pretzels, "Not your problem, my problem. Your /business associate/, what's his name. Where is he."
"Nuh-uh, man," Skinner replies, reaching for the pretzels first. He pops a few of them in his mouth so he's crunching while he continues, "I'm not just going to drop information in your lap and wander on my merry way. I know this guy. He knows that. And now he knows you're looking for him, saw me with him. Actually, I'm a little hard pressed to think of any reason I should get involved at all."
Perhaps he has more comprehension of Skinner's character than might have originally been known, for his reaction doesn't surprise K'aus. He just stares at the young man and presses his hand to his midsection while he sits up straighter in his chair. Leaning over is impossible, as much as he might like to, so that'll have to do. "I have reason to believe he raped and murdered a girl and left her body in a forest." Small pause. "Does that qualify."
Skinner's eyebrows go up. "No." Flicking pretzel salt off his fingers, he forms a fist to tap over his heart in a few rapid beats. "Nothing there," he explains, reaching for his beer now. "But, I can see why you'd want to go after him. Yowch. What would you do if you caught up to him again?" Skinner wonders, lifting his beer bottle. "Kill him?"
It's ironic that /K'aus/ should play the guy with /something/ there. As without expression as he has been, he watches every move Skinner makes with dulled precision, his eyes moving a little slowly. Kill him? "Or something," he replies flatly, swallowing. A light sweat has started to break out on his forehead.
Skinner's in no rush to get back to this conversation, so he finishes a long drink of beer before answering. "Well, you might want to think a little more about that before you go tracking him down again. Probably gonna come up," he surmises, eyebrows lifting again.
There's a reason why you're supposed to stay in the infirmary when you're told to stay in the infirmary. If you aren't really fully recovered or you're weaker than you realized, say, it might not be a good idea to take a long walk through the heat when you were probably dehydrated to begin with. There is a weariness that is starting to present itself, but K'aus pays it no mind. "Whether or not I'd kill him doesn't matter unless I know how to find him." He closes his eyes. "Don't count your eggs before they hatch."
Whatever business it was that took June away from them, it takes her near enough to K'aus and Skinner's table, a flitting flash of color that mingles inconspicuously through the surrounding area. She happens to be passing through behind them, a rag draped over wiping hands, for those last few snippets of, for lack of a better word, conversation that passes between them. It necessitates a pause. She leans to place her hands on the table and, eyeing them both equally, says with an amiable smile that will tip no one off, "If you two are going to talk about killing," and her gaze falls pointedly on the brownrider of the pair. Whatever the context of their little talk, he has a reputation now. "Could you at least do it upstairs where no one can hear you?" There are a few of the other patrons peering curiously, just now, but they're far too far away to be the overhearing parties she speaks of.
With his eyes, Skinner follows K'aus's struggle to maintain his composure. When June steps up, though, he redirects his gaze to her with another wide smile. "Sorry you had to hear that," he responds, trying to pluck June's hand off the table so he can kiss the back of it. "But I always did want to go upstairs." He bounces his brows, his grin shameless, then waves a hand at K'aus. "How about you get this guy up first and set him up where he's more comfortable? I keep thinking he's going to fall out of his chair, over there." Not to mention that them going up at different times won't look as, er, questionable to the people who know what those rooms upstairs are sometimes used for. "Just let me know when you're done," as he assumes it will be done, for apparently K'aus's input doesn't matter.
And really, why should it. He's barely even here anyways. But since there's nobody coming to collect him it's a good bet Ehrudith hasn't called for assistance so he can't be that bad off. Yet. Trying to keep his focus on June's face, K'aus puts together a coherent response. "Your customers have heard worse." Which could mean /anything/. Without waiting for the help that might or might not even come he puts a hand on the table and uses his grip there to pull himself to his feet and then begins alone the first few steps towards the stairs.
"Just takes a few marks," June answers Skinner distractedly, letting him take her hand and do what he pleases with it. Her eyes switch so quickly over to K'aus, gaze waiting there already before his quip and thinning on him when it comes. Without another word, she straightens and pivots, by all appearances leaving the injured man to find his own way up. But she'll find him a handful of aching steps later, the rag in her hands replaced by a dangling key. Her expression may be taut with disapproval, but she's not without compassion; she takes his arm and slides herself under it, making a prop out of herself just as they reach the bottom of the stairs. "Heard it about ten times just tonight," she lets him know, her voice diluted to an unusually firm variant of her low tones. "At least. What happened out there." She can't need to specify more. Ruesse, stationed at the top of the stairs, frowns heavily, baffled at them, until June's short shake of her head dampens that expression.
And they are indeed aching steps-- painful to take, painful to watch. K'aus is settling with the fact that he is to climb the stairs alone and is in fact approaching them with a kind of bent, forced resolve and his chin down. So when June joins him he is appropriately surprised and watches her with a kind of mystified reluctance about the whole thing but she slips in anyway. She speaks, he listens, replies with a tightness in his own voice that has a lot to do with the physical exertion that his body is not okay with and a lot to do with pain. "If you don't know the answers... you won't be able to give them to anyone if they ever ask." They're reaching the top of the stairs now, and Ruesse.
June passes a look up at him, entirely displeased, entirely wary, but she says nothing more and continues to support his climb. Ruesse, likewise, says nothing, just gives the pair a quick glance then goes back to her idle people-watching. June brings him as far as the first door, then leaves him to lean while she unlocks the handle and swings the door open. His hand is taken, manipulated into a palm-up position, and the key is dropped unceremoniously into the shallow cup of it. "Bring it back when you're done," is the cool direction she leaves him with before turning to descend again, to notify Skinner of where the brownrider's located.
And Skinner obediently heads upstairs, but he gives the brownrider a bit of extra time while he pauses to charm Ruesse (whether or not she's willing to be charmed). At last he has to excuse himself and get back to business, striding into the room June told him about without so much as a knock first. "You decent there?" he asks K'aus, that little chat with Ruesse all it took to restore him to his usual irreverance, after those few minutes down there of him being serious.
'Decent' consists of sitting in one of the two little chairs on either side of the little table that this room comes equipped with, along with the bed and other appropriate furnishings. And of course it is K'aus's particular brand of sitting, slightly slumped, a little bit sweaty, like it takes him a great deal of effort /to/ sit. When Skinner enters to join him he glances up and takes a deep breath that hurts. "Your idea of decent and mine might vary slightly."
Skinner looks from the sitting K'aus to the bed, his eyebrows arched. "Your idea of comfortable and mine might vary slightly." There's really no point in wasting resources. The salesman flops himself onto the edge of the bed, scooting upright against the headboard, and folds his hands over his stomach. "We're back to the whole killing thing, right? I'm just saying if you're not sure what to do with the guy, there isn't much point to looking for him. And less incentive, by the way, to my trading you good information if you're going to fuck up again."
"I didn't say," and the strength returns to K'aus's voice just in time for, or perhaps just plain for, this, "I didn't know what I wanna do with him." To make that very clear. His black eyes find Skinner and stay there, an all new rising up of dangerous thoughts burning in them. "I said I didn't know if I would kill him. If I plan to. I don't know that. You know who he is." Again, this next part is especially clear. "And I can pay."
Pursing his lips, Skinner rolls his eyes up to one side and considers. "I like money," he admits, returning to K'aus. "But I'm sure you're more useful to me than that. I'm just trying to figure out how. Unfortunately, I know you're not Mr. Has a Lot of Influence with the Weyr, and I don't think free dragonrides whenever I want them is really quite enough." He smiles cheerfully at the thought.
More useful than money? News flash. "I'm not." K'aus would be the last person to argue that point, knowing himself so darn well and all. But, "How about we pretend like I do have influence, for a sec." The brownrider puts his head to the side, slouching and staring. "What's your biggest wet dream, what would put the cherry on your little sundae."
There we go. Skinner flashes the other man a rare sort of smile - quick, not flashy - to let him know that he considers this new approach productive. "I need protection for my merchants. They're coming in and out all the time, loaded with stuff, and I've already had a couple of slum bitches try to take advantage of that. Better, smarter ones will follow. I've been working on the holds, but -" he flicks a finger at K'aus, "dragons are faster. You could fit it into your sweeps or something, but I want oversight."
"Fine." It's very easy to assume that fitting an extra trip here or there into his routine would be a small price to pay to get his hands on Skinner's stranger. Even if it could put him in a situation later in which he finds himself under someone's thumb. Right now, K'aus isn't thinking about that. "So we look out for your shit. Anything else?"
Skinner's silent for a second, as if waiting for something more from K'aus. When it doesn't come, he shrugs. "That'd be enough. I'm not convinced you can actually supply it. You and your brown aren't going to do enough, alone, so unless you've got the sway to make a wingleader or two go along with it, or you've just got so many friends you can organize it yourself, I'm still waiting for an offer I can rely on."
Impatient but calm by force, K'aus examines Skinner very evenly through a thin veil of hazy discomfort. Finally he takes a breath and speaks again. "If I can take over a wing and incorporate your merchants' circuit into regular sweeps so the rest of the wing doesn't have to know, what then."
Skinner shrugs and stretches a hand out, twiddling the fingers like it's the most inconsequential thing to say, "Then his name is Kozec. Finding him shouldn't be too hard: it's his job to be found. Waystations. Docks. Anywhere on Ista where there's enough people that he won't stand out, but they're too busy to take much notice of him. If you follow." Skinner crosses his other arm behind his head, and brings in the one he was just twiddling so he can dangle the fingers in front of his face.
It's with a new hungriness in his gaze that K'aus accepts that information and stores it in the tight place that is his brain. Kozec. Locations. Name to face. "Thank you. What I'm going to say next is important." There's a small pause for his own benefit. "If you know anyone who might be willing to do some dirty work for pay, I would appreciate if you convinced them to meet me downstairs in four days. I would also appreciate your help in keeping this asshole on the island."
This Skinner has to think about. His eyes narrowed slightly, he brings his hand in to rub over his moustache and keep his mouth covered. "First of all," he decides, splitting his fingers, "not downstairs. June and I get along, and I'm not going to spoil that by bringing whatever it is you're plotting smack into the middle of her business. Second, tell me what it is you're plotting. You can just sketch it," he offers, moving his hand away for another loose wave before it drops comfortably on his stomach.
"Plotting," K'aus repeats, coughing up a choke of laughter. His grin is pointy and white, a sudden split in his face that probably hurts. "I wouldn't do anything here, for fuck's sake. No. I just wanna talk to some of your friends if you have the kind of friends that wanna hear what I have to say. This is how it's gonna go. I'm gonna be put away for a while after what happened, until they figure out the guy I randomly attacked is gone, which they'll probably assume after a week or so of not seeing him. They're gonna make me stay in my little cave while they sort out what to do with me. I can't wait that long, I need someone to do a small part of my job for me, that's all."
Skinner shakes his head. "Not downstairs, not unless she okays it. My business relationships - more important than this thing with you." He quirks an eyebrow, an unspoken 'got that?' behind it. Then he drums the fingers on his stomach. "I wasn't done telling you about this guy, either. I mean, good to know that a name and some directions were good enough for you, but I charged that much for a reason. Kozec's part of an organization out here that doesn't like people fucking with its members. If you're going to do anything to him, make sure it doesn't trace back to you." He pauses, then pops up a toothy smile. "Or me. That'd be even worse."
"It's too bad you already gave me a name." Which might be regarding Skinner's 'business relationships'. Right around 'I wasn't done', K'aus is gathering his strength for the reverse of sitting down, which might actually be harder. It's hard to say, he's good at pretending. "It won't matter," he's saying through a pained grunt, and he's standing. While trying to catch his breath from just that little amount of activity, "If it traces back to me." He pauses there, standing and clutching his ribs, the area around them, and considers his reluctantly achieved accomplice for a moment before he's limping towards the door. "We're done here. I'll send you a thing when I need your services again. And I'll talk to June, don't worry."
Skinner tips his chin up, watching K'aus. "That would make it easier," he agrees, since the brownrider doesn't seem to care if things trace back. He springs another smile on K'aus as the man hobbles past, while making no move to help him or - indeed - even leave this comfortable bed. "You got it. Four days, huh? I'll see who I can scrounge up." Which doesn't sound like a guarantee of the highest quality, but does that even matter? Skinner waves a hand after the other man, then puts both arms behind him. "See you." And he'll be staying here until June kicks him out.
Location: The Lucky Seven, Ista Weyr
Date: 8-21-09
An air of boisterous high spirits buoys the crowd that's stuffed into The Lucky Seven this balmy summer evening. It's an oddly more female crowd, too, especially with that corner table full of young women enjoying flaunting their girls night out among all of their eyeballing male counterparts. Several points, such as the line of barstools and the game room, holding the modest poker tournament of the week, seem to draw people magnetically, leaving most of the chairs and tables abandoned, at least until people get too drunk to stand.
Like just about every other man in the room, Skinner's made his attempt to horn in on the ladies' night action over there. Like every other man who's tried, he's been shunted off, but he plays it like he expected (and asked) no more than a minute to enjoy their company, so at least he leaves on a good note. And better yet, there are women who do tolerate him here, because it's their job, and he has no shame in seeking one of them out and flopping himself onto a chair next to her. "Evening, Valenia," he says with a tooth-sparkling smile.
The infirmary attendants will notice he's gone at some point, and someone will likely have some words to say about his premature checkout, which leaves K'aus just enough time to make it through the jungle and into the Seven before he's discovered. He limps in, still sporting facial injuries and looking like he needs a good bath, his clothes are disheveled, and he's a little hunched over with his arm around his middle, but the second he's inside he straigtens and tries to put on a composure he doesn't actually possess. The way to the bar is the path he chooses, that is until he sees Skinner. Instant redirection.
Valenia beams up at Skinner when he makes his appearance, calling out an eager, "Hi, Skinner!" a second after her lively gaze lands on him. She engages him in the babbling pleasantries she specializes in, even going so far as to offer him a sip from the colored concoction sitting in front of her, one of her own super-sweet inventions. But as soon as a darted glance alerts her of K'aus' approach, she's excusing herself. "Sorry," she prefaces genuinely, the look she gives Skinner pointed with some vague warning. Something's amiss. She doesn't even pause to fluff her skirts. "I have to, uh, switch shifts with... Livi." No one can accuse her of being a good liar. She remembers to snag her drink, but only just, before she skims off through the crowd.
Valenia's bubbly pleasantries are well-received, and Skinner does dare to try her sugar concoction, even if he does admit, honestly, that it's too sweet for him, sweets. With a wink. And then K'aus has to come and spoil everything! He makes a sad moue at Valenia as she gets up, but he's not mean enough to call her on that transparent excuse. Let her escape. He'll shift his attention beyond her, finding K'aus, and waiting for the man to get within a few strides of the table before speaking to him. "Well, you certainly took the shit end of that one, didn't you?" For all the world he acts as though he's perfectly comfortable here, thank you, but he pushes his chair out just a bit and readies his muscles. If K'aus comes at him like he did for that stranger the other day, Skinner's ready to run for it.
It's probably a good thing Valenia retreats. She's too nice to have to see K'aus close up right now, Skinner will discover that it's a great deal uglier a situation the closer he gets. However, the brownrider's black gaze, blacker still for the bruising around one eye, does follow the sister until it doesn't; he knows she might bring reinforcements and after the incident with the sailors he's more wary of large groups. But it's Skinner he's here for and it's Skinner he addresses, bypassing his rhetorical and going straight for, "How the fuck do you know him, where is he, why is he here." He's stopped at the table, using it to lean his hip and take some of his weight at least off one leg.
Reinforcement, maybe, but June is far from an imposing group. Smiling wide as ever, she emerges from the same general direction that Valenia disappeared in, and sways her way over to the table that's become the site of interrogation, taking measure mostly of K'aus' appearance as she approaches. With a single smooth question, she breaks in, "Can I get you boys anything?" It's harmless, sure, mundane even, but there's something in the way she looks at each of them during it that's a reminder: she's here, she will be watching.
However much more gruesome K'aus appears from close up, Skinner doesn't seem to notice. His gaze doesn't leave the brownrider's, but there's nothing to be read in his face right now, either: his thoughts are screened. "He's a business associate," the salesman answers simply, then turns to meet June with a smile. "Some beer and pretzels?" he suggests, spreading that smile wider and turning the charm up to 11. Wordless reminder gets wordless answer: I'm behaving normally.
K'aus is staring down at Skinner and seething so very angrily under the surface when June approaches. And in her lies the reason for his 'good behavior', it did still before she even came into the picture. Without looking at her he says defensively and perhaps unnecessarily so, "I'm not doing anything wrong." But Skinner's made an order and there are people here, and he's sort of trying to keep a low profile at the moment, so he chooses the available seat, probably the one Valenia just abandoned, to carefully lower himself into with a wince.
June says nothing. She nods simply at Skinner's order then pins her gaze on K'aus. It stays there even after his little defense, an intent warning as she turns to go. It had better stay that way, nice and knifeless. A minute later, she returns unobtrusively at Skinner's elbow, planting the requested beer and small bowl of pretzels onto the table before turning to other business.
During that minute she's away, Skinner leans his elbow on the table. As in, he might still run if K'aus lunges for him, but he's no longer poised for it. "So what was that all about, anyway?"
Meaning K'aus cannot, for he chooses not to, answer until June goes away again. When she comes with the order he looks up at her, steadily pinning her under his stare whether she notices or not, it doesn't matter. And when she's gone again he looks across at his companion. Now that Skinner has his beer and pretzels, "Not your problem, my problem. Your /business associate/, what's his name. Where is he."
"Nuh-uh, man," Skinner replies, reaching for the pretzels first. He pops a few of them in his mouth so he's crunching while he continues, "I'm not just going to drop information in your lap and wander on my merry way. I know this guy. He knows that. And now he knows you're looking for him, saw me with him. Actually, I'm a little hard pressed to think of any reason I should get involved at all."
Perhaps he has more comprehension of Skinner's character than might have originally been known, for his reaction doesn't surprise K'aus. He just stares at the young man and presses his hand to his midsection while he sits up straighter in his chair. Leaning over is impossible, as much as he might like to, so that'll have to do. "I have reason to believe he raped and murdered a girl and left her body in a forest." Small pause. "Does that qualify."
Skinner's eyebrows go up. "No." Flicking pretzel salt off his fingers, he forms a fist to tap over his heart in a few rapid beats. "Nothing there," he explains, reaching for his beer now. "But, I can see why you'd want to go after him. Yowch. What would you do if you caught up to him again?" Skinner wonders, lifting his beer bottle. "Kill him?"
It's ironic that /K'aus/ should play the guy with /something/ there. As without expression as he has been, he watches every move Skinner makes with dulled precision, his eyes moving a little slowly. Kill him? "Or something," he replies flatly, swallowing. A light sweat has started to break out on his forehead.
Skinner's in no rush to get back to this conversation, so he finishes a long drink of beer before answering. "Well, you might want to think a little more about that before you go tracking him down again. Probably gonna come up," he surmises, eyebrows lifting again.
There's a reason why you're supposed to stay in the infirmary when you're told to stay in the infirmary. If you aren't really fully recovered or you're weaker than you realized, say, it might not be a good idea to take a long walk through the heat when you were probably dehydrated to begin with. There is a weariness that is starting to present itself, but K'aus pays it no mind. "Whether or not I'd kill him doesn't matter unless I know how to find him." He closes his eyes. "Don't count your eggs before they hatch."
Whatever business it was that took June away from them, it takes her near enough to K'aus and Skinner's table, a flitting flash of color that mingles inconspicuously through the surrounding area. She happens to be passing through behind them, a rag draped over wiping hands, for those last few snippets of, for lack of a better word, conversation that passes between them. It necessitates a pause. She leans to place her hands on the table and, eyeing them both equally, says with an amiable smile that will tip no one off, "If you two are going to talk about killing," and her gaze falls pointedly on the brownrider of the pair. Whatever the context of their little talk, he has a reputation now. "Could you at least do it upstairs where no one can hear you?" There are a few of the other patrons peering curiously, just now, but they're far too far away to be the overhearing parties she speaks of.
With his eyes, Skinner follows K'aus's struggle to maintain his composure. When June steps up, though, he redirects his gaze to her with another wide smile. "Sorry you had to hear that," he responds, trying to pluck June's hand off the table so he can kiss the back of it. "But I always did want to go upstairs." He bounces his brows, his grin shameless, then waves a hand at K'aus. "How about you get this guy up first and set him up where he's more comfortable? I keep thinking he's going to fall out of his chair, over there." Not to mention that them going up at different times won't look as, er, questionable to the people who know what those rooms upstairs are sometimes used for. "Just let me know when you're done," as he assumes it will be done, for apparently K'aus's input doesn't matter.
And really, why should it. He's barely even here anyways. But since there's nobody coming to collect him it's a good bet Ehrudith hasn't called for assistance so he can't be that bad off. Yet. Trying to keep his focus on June's face, K'aus puts together a coherent response. "Your customers have heard worse." Which could mean /anything/. Without waiting for the help that might or might not even come he puts a hand on the table and uses his grip there to pull himself to his feet and then begins alone the first few steps towards the stairs.
"Just takes a few marks," June answers Skinner distractedly, letting him take her hand and do what he pleases with it. Her eyes switch so quickly over to K'aus, gaze waiting there already before his quip and thinning on him when it comes. Without another word, she straightens and pivots, by all appearances leaving the injured man to find his own way up. But she'll find him a handful of aching steps later, the rag in her hands replaced by a dangling key. Her expression may be taut with disapproval, but she's not without compassion; she takes his arm and slides herself under it, making a prop out of herself just as they reach the bottom of the stairs. "Heard it about ten times just tonight," she lets him know, her voice diluted to an unusually firm variant of her low tones. "At least. What happened out there." She can't need to specify more. Ruesse, stationed at the top of the stairs, frowns heavily, baffled at them, until June's short shake of her head dampens that expression.
And they are indeed aching steps-- painful to take, painful to watch. K'aus is settling with the fact that he is to climb the stairs alone and is in fact approaching them with a kind of bent, forced resolve and his chin down. So when June joins him he is appropriately surprised and watches her with a kind of mystified reluctance about the whole thing but she slips in anyway. She speaks, he listens, replies with a tightness in his own voice that has a lot to do with the physical exertion that his body is not okay with and a lot to do with pain. "If you don't know the answers... you won't be able to give them to anyone if they ever ask." They're reaching the top of the stairs now, and Ruesse.
June passes a look up at him, entirely displeased, entirely wary, but she says nothing more and continues to support his climb. Ruesse, likewise, says nothing, just gives the pair a quick glance then goes back to her idle people-watching. June brings him as far as the first door, then leaves him to lean while she unlocks the handle and swings the door open. His hand is taken, manipulated into a palm-up position, and the key is dropped unceremoniously into the shallow cup of it. "Bring it back when you're done," is the cool direction she leaves him with before turning to descend again, to notify Skinner of where the brownrider's located.
And Skinner obediently heads upstairs, but he gives the brownrider a bit of extra time while he pauses to charm Ruesse (whether or not she's willing to be charmed). At last he has to excuse himself and get back to business, striding into the room June told him about without so much as a knock first. "You decent there?" he asks K'aus, that little chat with Ruesse all it took to restore him to his usual irreverance, after those few minutes down there of him being serious.
'Decent' consists of sitting in one of the two little chairs on either side of the little table that this room comes equipped with, along with the bed and other appropriate furnishings. And of course it is K'aus's particular brand of sitting, slightly slumped, a little bit sweaty, like it takes him a great deal of effort /to/ sit. When Skinner enters to join him he glances up and takes a deep breath that hurts. "Your idea of decent and mine might vary slightly."
Skinner looks from the sitting K'aus to the bed, his eyebrows arched. "Your idea of comfortable and mine might vary slightly." There's really no point in wasting resources. The salesman flops himself onto the edge of the bed, scooting upright against the headboard, and folds his hands over his stomach. "We're back to the whole killing thing, right? I'm just saying if you're not sure what to do with the guy, there isn't much point to looking for him. And less incentive, by the way, to my trading you good information if you're going to fuck up again."
"I didn't say," and the strength returns to K'aus's voice just in time for, or perhaps just plain for, this, "I didn't know what I wanna do with him." To make that very clear. His black eyes find Skinner and stay there, an all new rising up of dangerous thoughts burning in them. "I said I didn't know if I would kill him. If I plan to. I don't know that. You know who he is." Again, this next part is especially clear. "And I can pay."
Pursing his lips, Skinner rolls his eyes up to one side and considers. "I like money," he admits, returning to K'aus. "But I'm sure you're more useful to me than that. I'm just trying to figure out how. Unfortunately, I know you're not Mr. Has a Lot of Influence with the Weyr, and I don't think free dragonrides whenever I want them is really quite enough." He smiles cheerfully at the thought.
More useful than money? News flash. "I'm not." K'aus would be the last person to argue that point, knowing himself so darn well and all. But, "How about we pretend like I do have influence, for a sec." The brownrider puts his head to the side, slouching and staring. "What's your biggest wet dream, what would put the cherry on your little sundae."
There we go. Skinner flashes the other man a rare sort of smile - quick, not flashy - to let him know that he considers this new approach productive. "I need protection for my merchants. They're coming in and out all the time, loaded with stuff, and I've already had a couple of slum bitches try to take advantage of that. Better, smarter ones will follow. I've been working on the holds, but -" he flicks a finger at K'aus, "dragons are faster. You could fit it into your sweeps or something, but I want oversight."
"Fine." It's very easy to assume that fitting an extra trip here or there into his routine would be a small price to pay to get his hands on Skinner's stranger. Even if it could put him in a situation later in which he finds himself under someone's thumb. Right now, K'aus isn't thinking about that. "So we look out for your shit. Anything else?"
Skinner's silent for a second, as if waiting for something more from K'aus. When it doesn't come, he shrugs. "That'd be enough. I'm not convinced you can actually supply it. You and your brown aren't going to do enough, alone, so unless you've got the sway to make a wingleader or two go along with it, or you've just got so many friends you can organize it yourself, I'm still waiting for an offer I can rely on."
Impatient but calm by force, K'aus examines Skinner very evenly through a thin veil of hazy discomfort. Finally he takes a breath and speaks again. "If I can take over a wing and incorporate your merchants' circuit into regular sweeps so the rest of the wing doesn't have to know, what then."
Skinner shrugs and stretches a hand out, twiddling the fingers like it's the most inconsequential thing to say, "Then his name is Kozec. Finding him shouldn't be too hard: it's his job to be found. Waystations. Docks. Anywhere on Ista where there's enough people that he won't stand out, but they're too busy to take much notice of him. If you follow." Skinner crosses his other arm behind his head, and brings in the one he was just twiddling so he can dangle the fingers in front of his face.
It's with a new hungriness in his gaze that K'aus accepts that information and stores it in the tight place that is his brain. Kozec. Locations. Name to face. "Thank you. What I'm going to say next is important." There's a small pause for his own benefit. "If you know anyone who might be willing to do some dirty work for pay, I would appreciate if you convinced them to meet me downstairs in four days. I would also appreciate your help in keeping this asshole on the island."
This Skinner has to think about. His eyes narrowed slightly, he brings his hand in to rub over his moustache and keep his mouth covered. "First of all," he decides, splitting his fingers, "not downstairs. June and I get along, and I'm not going to spoil that by bringing whatever it is you're plotting smack into the middle of her business. Second, tell me what it is you're plotting. You can just sketch it," he offers, moving his hand away for another loose wave before it drops comfortably on his stomach.
"Plotting," K'aus repeats, coughing up a choke of laughter. His grin is pointy and white, a sudden split in his face that probably hurts. "I wouldn't do anything here, for fuck's sake. No. I just wanna talk to some of your friends if you have the kind of friends that wanna hear what I have to say. This is how it's gonna go. I'm gonna be put away for a while after what happened, until they figure out the guy I randomly attacked is gone, which they'll probably assume after a week or so of not seeing him. They're gonna make me stay in my little cave while they sort out what to do with me. I can't wait that long, I need someone to do a small part of my job for me, that's all."
Skinner shakes his head. "Not downstairs, not unless she okays it. My business relationships - more important than this thing with you." He quirks an eyebrow, an unspoken 'got that?' behind it. Then he drums the fingers on his stomach. "I wasn't done telling you about this guy, either. I mean, good to know that a name and some directions were good enough for you, but I charged that much for a reason. Kozec's part of an organization out here that doesn't like people fucking with its members. If you're going to do anything to him, make sure it doesn't trace back to you." He pauses, then pops up a toothy smile. "Or me. That'd be even worse."
"It's too bad you already gave me a name." Which might be regarding Skinner's 'business relationships'. Right around 'I wasn't done', K'aus is gathering his strength for the reverse of sitting down, which might actually be harder. It's hard to say, he's good at pretending. "It won't matter," he's saying through a pained grunt, and he's standing. While trying to catch his breath from just that little amount of activity, "If it traces back to me." He pauses there, standing and clutching his ribs, the area around them, and considers his reluctantly achieved accomplice for a moment before he's limping towards the door. "We're done here. I'll send you a thing when I need your services again. And I'll talk to June, don't worry."
Skinner tips his chin up, watching K'aus. "That would make it easier," he agrees, since the brownrider doesn't seem to care if things trace back. He springs another smile on K'aus as the man hobbles past, while making no move to help him or - indeed - even leave this comfortable bed. "You got it. Four days, huh? I'll see who I can scrounge up." Which doesn't sound like a guarantee of the highest quality, but does that even matter? Skinner waves a hand after the other man, then puts both arms behind him. "See you." And he'll be staying here until June kicks him out.