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Three weeks after meeting Neo, Roman realized he was a no-holds-barred, grade-A idiot.
In all fairness to himself, having a partner was a new concept. For years, he had stayed solo, working up and down the coast of Vale as a middleman, conman, and when the occasion called for distracting a corrupt politician’s wife, a ladies’ man. So when he had walked into a warehouse for the standard give-me-my-cut meeting, the last thing Roman had expected was a young woman pulling her sword out of the best robbery crew he’d ever met, every wall splashed with blood.
Actually, that was a lie. The last thing he expected was for her to offer him half the Dust sitting nicely packaged on the table, somehow pristine amidst all the gore. Considering his finder’s fee for giving the gang a target had only been ten percent, five times that amount was like his birthday and every festival rolled up together. Said offer had been scrawled on a piece of paper extended on the tip of her parasol, but Roman liked to think he was forgiving of most eccentricities.
Why the offer to pair up had even fallen off his tongue in the first place, Roman wasn’t quite sure, but Neo – that was her name, detailed in pink cursive – accepted with a shrug. He quickly found out she worked on a contract basis, and having access to regular work was a blessing. Ambition held up his end of the deal; he was getting too old for small-time schemes, but climbing up the chain was almost impossible without someone watching his back. That Neo had been honest with him from the start – fifty-fifty, not a speck of Dust off the scale – was something Roman knew he couldn’t buy, not on any street in the kingdoms.
But it was only now, crouched in the alley behind a tenement waiting for a target, that Roman made sense of some of Neo’s idle gesturing. Nearly a month and she had communicated solely through scroll texts and notes, never uttering a word, and the movements of her hands Neo made to different contacts and terrified passerby sunk in.
“Can you sign?” Roman asked, wiggling a few gloved fingers in her direction.
She threw her head back, mimicking a laugh before pulling out her scroll. After punching in a few words, Neo turned the screen his way. Of course I can.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He did his best not to sound affronted, but some things were important to know .
Her eyes flickered in clear confusion, pink to white and back to a heterochromatic split. Then her fingers flew over the keyboard again. Do you know sign language?
“No, but if I’m your partner, it seems like something I should pick up, huh?” Roman made a vague gesture with his cane towards the street. “Like if a target came around the corner and I had to tell you while keeping my trap shut.”
A few heartbeats of consideration passed, and Neo shrugged. We have ten minutes before his time at the brothel runs out. I could teach you a few things.
Roman smirked. “Hit me.”
Propping her scroll up on both knees, Neo looked him right in the eye and then brought her left hand up to her chest, palm facing inward. Then her other hand rose, thumb pointing towards the sky, and jabbed up over the left one like a knife. She elbowed him a moment later and Roman caught on, imitating the gesture in slow motion. It was awkward compared to the fluid movement of her hands, but he got the basic idea.
Neo typed a single word onto her scroll: danger.
“Alright, so if we’ve got a threat, that’s the way to go.” Roman said, and she nodded.
The next was with Neo’s palm held up and horizontal before running her finger out across the inside of that hand, off into the air. He copied the move a few times, ignoring when her shoulders shook in a silent chuckle, and then translated it again: escape.
Seemed like a good one to know. “Handy. Hopefully we won’t be using that too much.”
Neo smirked, then drew her finger slowly across her throat. When the text on the scroll read kill, Roman rolled his eyes. “Is that actually the sign?”
No, but I’ve found it’s a lot more straightforward.
“Fair enough.” Roman ran through the motions of the signs one more time, trying not to look as graceless as he felt. “What else?”
More later. I can hear our target on the stairs. Once the words were flashed his way, Neo pocketed her scroll and stood up.
“Not a marathon kind of guy, is he?” Standing up straight, Roman brushed off the edges of his coat. “Tell me the truth. How’d I do for a first-timer?”
Much to his surprise, Neo popped up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Roman swallowed hard, hoping the heat rising up the back of his neck all the way to his hairline didn’t also show on his face.
Ten points to beginner’s luck.
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