Chapter Text
There was always a part of Scorch fascinated by how eagerly people would avoid the headquarters of the Bloodbound like a plague. They would pass by a crime guild in blissful ignorance, but the Crimson Reprieve was always accompanied by near-empty streets. Empty, of course, except for those eager for business. Most would consider some form of cloak or disguise - lest they be overrun with rumours as to why exactly they were hiring mercenaries. Too many people demanded to utilise a gunslinger’s aim but very few were eager to own up to it.
With the hood of his long patchwork coat down and staring up at three storeys of cracked stone, Luke Tarin was never one to shy away from his associates. Long hair in a plait that may have looked impressive had he ever actually learnt how to braid it, public opinion was never something he cared much for. Then again, in the many years that Scorch had known the man the only thing he ever truly cared about was the amount of coins filling his coin purse. A cunning enough lunatic with schemes neat enough to make sure it always remained overflowing.
“You going to stand out here all day or do you actually have business for us?” Scorch hardly gave him a second glance, joining his glance at the building before them. Built of dark stone and wood tainted black,the Crimson Reprieve was as unsettling as it was noticeable. A great contrast to the more colourful buildings that the city prided itself with. “Don’t tell me you’re still scared.”
Attempting to be professional, Luke did not so much as acknowledge their final comment as his eyes gaze fell to them. But it wasn’t a friendly look. No, it was the look of a man admiring his latest weapon in fine condition. “Why waste time loitering when my dear friend wasn’t even inside?” He hummed. “I’m here to talk to you, little ember. Not whatever poor soul is stuck as a so-called secretary.” The man took a step closer. “Yes. You’re exactly what I need.”
They didn’t even attempt to hide their scowl at the nickname. It had never been one to please them, but then again - they were dealing with a man that liked to flaunt his near-ageless existence and experience over those younger than him. “You need a body double again?” Scorch didn’t even bother to hide their exasperation.
Before he even had time to reply, they were already changing. Their bones and muscles stretched to give them extra height. Pigment and colour began to fill in their skin as their ears began to stretch into points. Their hair grew darker and pulled itself shorter. Then finally, their form settled as they stared down Luke Tarin whilst wearing his face.
“No, actually.” In an instant, his form faded and Scorch allowed themself to take on their natural one. “What I need is someone with a sharp eye and fast reflexes. Of course, I could ask anyone here but none of them have worked with us before and well, your snark always keeps things entertaining.”
Stuffing their hands into their pockets and deeply regretting their lack of weapons, the changeling tilted their head as they became perfectly still for a moment. “You want to hire me because I’m a snarky bitch. Now, c’mon. What’s the job?” They all but demanded.
Then Luke showed an emotion they had never seen on him before. Hesitance. “I don’t know all the details but it’s a delivery to some town outside the city. No idea as to the cargo but I can hardly care with how much they’re paying us.” And there it was. The Tarin greed they knew so well.
“...How much exactly?” Whilst greed was not written into their blood, Scorch was mortal like most and enough gold to live comfortably was always an unyielding temptation. Granted, there was still the cut they would have to give to the guild but it was never enough to bankrupt them.
“For your cut specifically? Three hundred gold pieces.” They almost got whiplash from how casually he threw around the number. They could buy a house with that and still live comfortably for the rest of their days! Or perhaps something like those overly fancy clothes nobles preferred! Or a dog! They’d always wanted a dog. But something about Luke’s words didn’t quite sit right with them.
“For me?”
The human man rubbed at the back of his neck, clearly trying to put on an air of nonchalance. “The client asked for a gunslinger. Not for you specifically, just any of the Bloodbound with a reputation.” Luke kept his gaze on the Crimson Reprieve and far away from the changeling. “You, my dear Scorch, just so happen to be the only one I trust to work with.”
A slight smirk began to crawl onto their face as they licked over their top layer of teeth. Some would claim that flattery got you nowhere, but Scorch was not ashamed to say they were a proud exception. They knew they were skilled and a little confidence boost never killed anyone - that was what the gun was for! “Oh, Luke! You warm the embers of my heart!” They cackled.
“Now, inside. I want to be sitting down comfortably whilst you tell me everything.” Their tone left little room for debate.
The meeting rooms of the Crimson Reprieve lived up to the building’s name. Dark red wallpaper encompassed the walls, complemented by the stained wood flooring. Most were minimally decorated - a desk, a drinks cabinet, a couple of armchairs, and perhaps even a fireplace. But Scorch’s favourite part of the room was how clients squirmed at the normality.
Luke may have been something close to a friend but he was hardly an exception.
Whilst Scorch had draped themself across an armchair and were casually nursing a glass of whiskey, Luke had barely sat down and his drink remained firmly untouched. “Help you and some of your usual crowd move something to a village and back.” They hummed. “Hardly complicated work for such a big pay check.”
“A little too simple.” The human finally picked up his glass, eyeing the liquid inside warily. It took everything in them not to roll their eyes at their ‘friend’s’ distrust. “Whatever we’re transporting is something valuable. Beyond our very high pay grade to know.” Though, even he looked unhappy about it. Unknown cargo meant unknown fragility or volatility.
They took a long, slow sip of whiskey. “Where’s the village?” For that money, Scorch doubted it was anywhere close by. No, if it was something they were willing to pay a small fortune for. “And what other idiots are you dragging into this?”
“Valestone. About two days by cart.” Concerningly close. For the first time in the meeting rooms, unease began to seep into Scorch’s skin and wrap itself around their very bones. “And a skeleton crew. Just you, me, and Bones.”
That name was enough to capture Scorch’s full attention as their grip on the glass tightened. “Bones? As in Aurelia Bones?!” Their face erupted into a look of disbelief. “You’re dragging the Guild into this?” And Gods above, wasn’t that a nightmare waiting to happen.
To say the Society of the Bloodbound shared tense relations with the Horned Guild was an understatement. The Society may have been morally dubious at best, but at least they were honest and mostly legal with their work! Whilst the Horned Guild… Every criminal in Aelirant seemed to find a way to trickle back to them. Even Scorch had more than a few memorable encounters with them.
But Aurelia Bones had a reputation. She was an assassin - not great enough to knock the Devil’s Blade off of her pedestal - and one that was very good at her job. The wind nymph may have favoured a bo staff yet every execution turned out almost flawless. A master of her craft. Everything about her left a bad taste in Scorch’s mouth. Including the cheap liquor from a drinking contest where she had drunk them under the table.
“Look, I know you don’t her! Even if it feels like there’s no one you like fucking working with!” They snorted at that. It was hardly their fault if most people felt too… mundane. “But she’s good in a scrap, and with the pay from this? I can actually afford real support.”
“I’m sure your usual crew were positively thrilled at their replacement! Practically jumping with joy!”
“They will be when we’re all stupidly rich.” Yet Luke had the decency to look at least mildly sheepish. Even if it was gone as soon as it had appeared. “Look. We make the delivery. We come home. We get paid. Everyone’s happy!” He huffed. “Are you in or are you out?”
Scorch notched back the last of their whiskey before slamming their empty glass onto the desk.
“I’m in.”
Actually making a contract through the guild had been a little more pricey than expected. Their cut was to be one hundred gold pieces, leaving Scorch with two hundred when they got paid. If they got paid. Something about this job already stunk of bullshit or a little too much deceit. But hey! If the job really did go off without a hitch, then it was hardly their bullshit to worry about.
Yet Scorch found themself packing carefully for the trip. Shoving in as many extra rations packs as they could fit, and making sure they had more than a surplus of medical supplies. Just in case.
As they headed out the door, catching sight of the human and nymph that were to be their travelling companions, Scorch took a deep breath as they fixed their usual smirk onto their face. Their current form was one that could easily be played as Luke’s twin if someone were to look too close.
But the job would go fine. After all, what was the worst that could happen?