Work Text:
Day 2- Working Together
A violet tinge stained the skies above Fogfens, leaving an appearance like a soapy film further out in the distance. A pair of figures walked past the corrupted crystal formation, the ground crunching under their footsteps. D'rena and Nero were out and about again, under the pretense of testing the efficacy of Nix oil as a temporary lubricant.
"I know as well as you that there are other things we can source here," Nero said as he took off his sunglasses before smoothing out his hair, only for his efforts to sprout more stray ends.
D'rena craned her neck up at him, a shite-eating grin plastered on her face. "Oh, we can get the Nix oil, and most definitely for lubricant." She brings her gaze forward and scans the horizon. "But we never did specify for what, did we?"
Nero looked down at his companion. Not content to wear the standard Ironworks colors, she's opted for an enchanting shade of purple. Not unlike the sky at dusk. It did make him feel less an outcast, but it firmly cemented her as his partner in crime. "An idea," he said, finally growing frustrated with his increasingly untamed mane. "Garlond thinks his toolbox secure." D'rena looked back at him, lips pursed as though she already caught on. "If you were to pick his lock, a sprinkle of oil should leave him without a grasp on his tools."
He saw a vision unfolding: Garlond, growing more frustrated and unnerved as each screwdriver, wrench, and hammer fled his grasp. Perhaps damaging a piece of equipment in the process. He chuckled at the thought of his favorite wrench slipping loose and striking some poor unfortunate passerby.
"But what if Cid fouled up paperwork with it?" D'rena chimed, hand to her chin and making an intense face for staring at nothing. "Jessie would kill us because who else could pick his locks?"
"My deep regrets," he made a mocking sweep of his arm, "but I know not how to pick a lock- without destructive methods- so you would be the sole target of our dear deputy president's ire."
She shrugged and picked up her pace, walking in front of him. No small few of her own hairs took a life of their own from the air. Suddenly, her ears perked up and she stood straighter before turning about on her heels and walking backwards, her tail standing nearly straight up. "Why don't we help him stick to the schedule?" Nero stopped and stared at her. "Mudpuppies!" More silence. Her tail dropped. "You Garleans are such picky eaters," she muttered.
She clapped her hands together. "I've had to carve a few cuts of mudpuppy meat, mostly the tail, but I noticed my gloves sticking to its hide. And to my surprise, it wasn't the cold clime of Coerthas; the wavekin's secretions really are sticky like some sort of sap. So if we put a little on his gloves," she wrung her hands together "he'll be quite stuck fast to his door."
Nero smiled before shaking his head. "But then Miss Jaye will tan our hides if Garlond's sticky fingers go over anything... important." D'rena stood in silence for a moment before her tail went completely limp and her ears flattened. All with that same grin on her face. "Don't fret, my dear," he started walking again, "I have just the idea: a little morbol saliva in his coffee."
"...That's..." she squeaked as he walked past her.
"Positively rotten, indeed," he said proudly.
"No."
Nero looked back. "'No!?'"
She caught up to him and they walked together, side by side. He glanced over to see her frowning. "A few years ago, I had to... I'll just say once I mistakenly drank a concotion laced with the selfsame poison, and it made me so ill. So very ill." She took a ragged breath and let it out. "I thought I was going to die, that's how ill I was;" she looked him in the eyes, "nobody deserves that."
"And perhaps someone would notice the smell and think the coffee's gone bad, and that won't do at all," he said, recalling the recent coffee shortage.
D'rena stopped again and looked towards the left. He followed her gaze to the arcane shape in the distance, levin arcing between and along its purple protrusions. She looked at him with a smile, as though he never dredged up that memory. "Lightning sprite core..." she said quietly.
"Run one across the paper-"
"And layer another on top!"
Nero smiled at the perfect crime. "Garlond will spend bells trying to get a stack separated."
D'rena's aetherotransformer hummed to life as she took aim with her musketoon. "And I get some target practice. Everyone wins!" Nero smiled as the plan was set in motion.