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ifyougochasingrabbits · 20 days

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TW: Knife gore. Continuation of this scene.

White stared. And stared, then stared some more. Past the knife conjured out of ice at the door as if she expected the woman to open it and finish her off. She swallowed. She was shaking. She swallowed again. Her throat stuck to itself, but she could still breathe. By the gods, she was still breathing.

Her eyes fell shut as her head laid back against the wood that made the ridiculously wide footboard her be her hand remained pinned to. She couldn't feel it. It being the pain, but her hand? She tried to move it. She could feel the pain— instantly punished by a jolt— it shot through it and her arm, into her stomach that flipped so hard she could have sworn it tied itself into a knot.

She had to move. To get up.

Her head rolled to the hand-pinned side as far as her horn would let her. She kept her eyes closed.

She needed a healer.

She knew of healers.

She knew one personally.

Had it been a week, she wondered. Once again she swallowed, her lips parted the moment her throat cleared, softly gasping for air.

Not yet.

She couldn't open her eyes yet.

She had to move. To get up.

She needed a healer.

Her eyes opened. Then promptly scrunched shut at sight. It wasn't the blood. It wasn't even the pain. She could deal with one, the other, and both mixed into the crude little gift left behind in her hand. Through her scales. But she couldn't move it. Her hand. It wasn't her dominant one at least.

It didn't matter. She needed it.

Shite.

If he wasn't there, she'd have to find someone else. Quickly. There wasn’t any other choice. It had to be cleaned. Closed. Cared for or infection would tuck itself under her skin.

Her eyes opened again and stayed open, staring at the see-through knife, the dagger that had started to melt sometime between the woman leaving and the moment passing by. Its icy water dripped down into her palm to what little blood had pooled. The rest wet the wood underneath.

She had to move. To get up.

White knew pulling it out could do more damage. No, not could. Would. A dagger was a dagger after all, it didn't matter if it was made out of metal, stone, or ice. She would have preferred metal. But once it was pulled out, nothing would hold back the bleeding.

It didn't have to be pulled out, it could go with her. She could take it along to find him. He owed her. They made a deal she'd have no issues waving around in his face if he refused.

She hurt.

Reaching up with her obviously not pinned hand she pulled one pigtail free. She did the same to the other, letting her hand slump above her like it weighed several times over what it did. It was funny, she let out a breathy chuckle out her nose, thinking about how aware one became of the weight of their own limbs they live with day in and out when one had the energy to be blissfully unaware of it.

She breathed in once, then blew out. She breathed in again, then blew it out. The third time she reached back, pushing against the wood, rolling her onto her side towards her hand.

A swear stuttered between hidden clenched teeth. Any harder and she’d chipped one.

She had to move.

Quickly.

Quicker.

She slipped her hand between her and the waist of her skirt, running her thumb along its edge until it ran into the zipper. Pulling it down, she dragged it off her hips. Every single movement not only reminded her but gave her a two-for-one deal of punishing her again. She didn't like that deal. It had to be done, she needed the skirt off her legs, kicking it up into the air to grab at— snatch— yank it down to her chest as a bolt of pain stole every ilm of her arm and stomach, pulling her like its puppet into a tight ball.

Letting out a shaky sigh she looked to the dagger. Her hand. The dagger in her hand.

White breathed slowly, her skirt held hand reached out slowly. It was going to hurt more. Worse. She breathed in a little more, wedging the part of the skirt under her hand. It so-very-unfortunately shimmied it up the blade, but this would be easier. Better. If she wanted to keep it in. If she wanted to stop the bleeding as long as possible.

She was tired.

To the front she wrapped the skirt around and around the blade as many times as she could before tucking it and her hand under. Her skirt-protected fingers wrapped around the blade, once again, horribly sliding the one implied back up. She watched the entire time.

She swallowed. Breathe in. Her fingers attached to her pierced palm tried to coil in on the blade. Again. Again. She was again punished and she tossed that idea out the window she had bolted for how long ago.

How long?

It couldn't have been that long.

White tightened her grip under her hand, around the blade. She had one chance at it. Just one. Not two and definitely not three. She was lucky she had just the one. With a pull from both her arms and body she yanked herself from the wood.

From the depths of her chest came a sound, yanked out of her throat that filled the room in the form of a strained groan— loud but short. It faded as quickly as it came into a whimper behind her clenched jaw.

Back into the ball she curled, holding her hand toward her chest like she did the skirt only softer. She had to be careful. So very gentle.

She had to move. She had to get up.

With a small, self-assured nod she rolled onto the leg folded under her, pushing with it so she was sitting up.

Over at her dresser, her wardrobe of wonder she turned her attention, dropping it to her hand for half a moment then back to the dresser.

Her head throbbed. When did it start, she couldn't remember. She wasn't sure, the ache that reminded her of its existence didn't let her think more on it and the dresser.

She slid off the foot of the bed, placing an unsteady foot against the tile. She gave it another moment, felt the way she moved to know how to. It'd be bad if she fell. She didn't want that. So she didn't move until her leg felt stable or enough that she'd catch her every time she stumbled on over, which wasn't a lot. But it was enough.

She had to move quicker.

Opening it up, red smudged the handle. She grabbed another skirt inside, the one whose fabric hung loose around her hips, and sat down to put it on. Carefully. Pulling it up her leg from between a finger and thumb. The hand would draw enough attention, she didn't need a shoddy dye job on her skirt to bring more.

But she got it on as she stood to grab a lighter from a shelf in the wardrobe. It shook in her hand. No, her hand shook it all while her thumb pressed down on the wheel. Again. Again.

"Come on…" Frustration hissed out, almost breaking the whisper.

A third time the spark grew into a welcomed flame. A need one she brought towards the blade, awkwardly pushing at the skirt with her so not to burn it. The melting would help, but even as much as it did she couldn't snap it smaller, that was asking for trouble. More than melting its ends. It would be smaller, she could hide it better.

As it dripped away she hurried over towards her boots, misstepping here, shuffling there, and shoving her foot into one, pressing her heel into place. She did the same with the other.

White moved the lighter to the other side, letting it melt away, closer to the damp fabric. It didn't take too long, there wasn't an icy woman attached to it to keep it cool. When it shortened to where she wanted it she flipped the lighters lid closed, dropping it back onto the shelf from where had taken it from, grabbing a key that sat next to it.

She left the door open, even after she pulled a white summer cardigan from a hanger in her key held hand, its sleeves decorated in silvers and blues. Heading towards the door her good hand slid through the sleeve first, giving her time to clench her teeth in anticipation of her easing the other through. Thankfully the sleeves were wide and the ends of the melted blades were not only pointy, pulling the end a little further over her poor hand

White shuffled around what ice was left decorating the floor, the rest left behind a puddle that smeared across the tile under the door she pulled open.

Closing it behind her it clicked. Then another, locking it shut.

She headed down the hall, to the bustle of the city, each step moving at a pace she almost begged to be quicker, but not too quick. She had an image to share, one on display for anyone who laid their eyes on her to see.

One at a distance that showed that she was fine.

#thats going to hurt in the morning #♕ writing — white rabbit

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 21 days

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#♕ aesthetics — white rabbit

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 21 days

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"can you behave" yes, if I wanted to, but this is so much funnier

#♕ funny — white rabbit #♕ quotes — white rabbit

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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🎵

Muse Playlist & Lyric Meme

I have to start off by sharing the song that is the reason for White's existence, without it she wouldn't be how she is today.

And if you go chasing rabbits And you know you're going to fall Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar Has given you the call

White Rabbit — Jefferson Airplane Back when we were introduced to the addition of Au Ra I really wanted to make one. My plan was to have a feminine healer I could play frilly dress up with because it felt strange to do that to D'lyhhia. I made a Lalafell as holder until Heavensward was to be released and named her after the song. From there she kinda just became, then grew using the same song as the beginning building blocks of her personality. Now you have the not-so-hidden lore of how my gremlin came to be all because I wanted to play frilly dress up and was listening to 60s music, lmfao.

#y'all should listen to it slowed down #its rad as hell #ffxivtribehydrae #♕ prompts — white rabbit

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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My Dress-Up Darling | Sono Bisque Doll wa Koi wo Suru – Chapter 87

#this is definitely fae AU vibes to a T #♕ aesthetics — white rabbit

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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Jean-Paul Sartre, from No Exit: And Three Other Plays; “No Exit”

Text ID: No, don’t be afraid, I can’t help looking at you. I shan’t turn my eyes away. And I’ll be nice to you, ever so nice.

#♕ quotes — white rabbit

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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Send 🎵 plus a muse and I will share a song from their playlist & some lyrics that stand out

#hohohohoho I have a lot of songs to pick from #I might just put it on shuffle and see what it lands on #♕ asks/prompts reblog

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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TW: Knife violence, mention of drugs, mention of hypothetical child death. Feat. @umbralsound-xiv

Bexy Amalaryssia: A slow, thudding knock sounds at the door of the apartment. No voice calls out as greeting, no further sound is given. Bexy slowly fills her lungs, exhaling quietly on the other side of the door, attempting to find some measure of patience.

White Rabbit laid lazily on her oversized bed, looking over some paper that was marked with words. Not pictures. She would have rather had have them. But there was a knock that pulled her gaze up towards the door. The door she got off the bed for, leaving the papers behind. With a turn of the knob, she pulled it open a little. Just a crack. Peeking between it at the woman she had been hearing so many things about over the past few suns. "Icepick~" she greeted as she swung the door open! Rolling her hand over several times down into a half-curtsy bow while she stared up at the woman with a toothy grin.

Bexy Amalaryssia slowly inclines her head - Almost her whole frame, at that. At the beckon of a bow, Bexy slips through the open door, and doesn't say another word until she's through the threshold. "White." She speaks, sharp and purposeful. Her usual pleasantries had fled her, replaced by some muted urgency. "I seek your services in information."

White Rabbit stepped around Bexy, keeping her back turned away as she eased the door towards its home in the frame. Leaning her weight against it, the door clicked shut. Then another click. Locked. "Do you?" she asked, her tone lifting up as if she were surprised. She wasn't. That was obviously apparent by the string of words she explained, "I was wonderin' if you would. And you have! Come here. Seekin' the rabbit." Splayed fingers pressed against the flat of her chest, her grin remained strong.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I have. And I have little patience for dawdling. My time is -limited-, White." Bexy walks a little further into the room, a chill catching in the air as she moved. The sound of her footfalls comes to a halt, as she slowly turns in the middle of the corridor. "...Why would you wonder such a thing, hm?"

White Rabbit dropped her arm like a dead weight, letting it hang there while the other rested folder over her torso, hand tucked under her arm. "Oh— you haven't heard?" She leaned forward a little, a corner of her lips tugged into something more of a smirk. "Then again. You have been busy. Haven't you? Or. That's what they say~" If it weren't for the woman's "limited" time she'd have kept her hand a little longer, but might as well lay some cards on the table. As a courtesy. "I thought it wasn't midnight anymore."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Who says?" Her words were prying, tail opting to flick at her heels for a moment. "And it isn't. I don't kill or steal for coin, White. You know this. I'm far beyond that now." She slinks along to a wall, finding it better to press her back against it. "Tell me what you have heard. I'm prepared to pay."

White Rabbit pushed off the door, meandering over to the icy woman with a sway in her steps. "They say." she said, as if that told her anything. "Why?" she asked, stopping dead three or five fulms away. It was closer to five. "Should I? I want to know. You'll tell me, won't you? Your time is limited. It must be important if it is."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "It is important." Bexy doesn't deny it for a second, but her impatience is clear in her tone. "People close to me are missing. I want to know where they are." Her gaze drops for a moment, hesitating. "...I know where they were last."

White Rabbit: "Who was taken?" Bending at the waist she leaned in. "Who took them?" she asked before asking another between a grin in an almost whispered, "Was it the funny people with those funny red marks?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Eir. Sayuri. Both of them." Her brow knits as White speaks, the answer written plain on her features even before it left her lips. "...Yes. What do you know of them?"

White Rabbit stood up straight. "Eir! Eir... he's the one who made those cookies!" With a jerk of her body she spun around on the ball of her foot, coming to a studden stop when the other hit the ground. She thoughtfully tapped the side of her chin with a knuckle. "And the one who wanted to. Get peaches?" She craned her neck, peering back over her shoulder. "I know a lot of things. About them. Don't you?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Sayuri is my sister. White, tell me what you know. I don't have time for this. Tell me!" A hair away from shouting, Bexy bristles against the pillar. "I need to know if they're still with the people who took them. They're a band of slavers that operate in Thanalan. But they sell people, White. Sayuri I'm sure they still have. Eir... I don't know. But wherever he goes, she will surely try to follow."

White Rabbit didn't move at first, not an ilm. Not even a flinch. She just stared, letting the silence claim the room unfortunately for Bexy. She wondered a moment how much it got under her skin between what to say and what not to. She breathed in through her nose, the slight smile tugging into something wider. Something more as she turned until she stopped. Facing her. "Icepick~" she cooed, teasing-like, taking a step forward she asked with a bite to her words as she took another step, "Do you know. How much trouble. You've caused? How much you've made." Lowering her voice she lifted her head up at her. "If you have to come to me. I bet you don't~."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "So I've killed a few people. So what?" Bexy's immediate vicinity was a Coerthan chill, her eyes narrowing on White's own. Those unnatural blue hues could be seen at this distance, how they laced and threaded with aether. "They all deserved to die. But hunting them hasn't given me the information I want."

White Rabbit slowly shook her head staying right where she stood, cold or not. "They do a lot more good bein' six fulms under. I'd say even better if it was eight or ten! But you. You really don't know what you've done. Or maybe you do. And you just. Don't. Care." Throwing her arms up as she shrugged she let them fall. They swing by her sides a few times over. "Why would you? Salvers or not." Her words hardened as she spoke, but never lost the slight bounce to them. "Men, women, and children. If it gets you closer to gettin' them. It doesn't matter. Does it?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Don't be ridiculous. I've not laid a finger on a child. What good would harming a child do in all of this? No. Each one that crosses my paths I'll kill. Until I get them back, until they understand they don't touch the people I love!"

White Rabbit: "Oh!" She dramatically exclaimed. "But I'm not! Bein' ridiculous. You might not have. Laid your bloody fingers on them." Her expression softened, her eyes narrowing some. "But your choices have. Isn't that funny how that works?" It wasn't, her brows knit a little. Just a tiny above her smile. "You make a choice. Or you don't. And so many things happen." Taking a step back she shook her head. "Poor things. I wonder how many will starve. Because you didn't think beyond them. And what about them. What would they think? Or maybe they don't either. That'd be a shame."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "There are starving children the world over, White. Some situation lands them where they are, and though I might tip that scale, I am not the only weight on it." The room plummeted into a chill; as White retreated, Bexy subtly leaned after her, one hand slowly unfurling to settle at her side, gloved fingers flexing through now threadbare, nigh irreprable gloves. "I don't see how killing a bunch of slavers makes them suffer. Go on then, enlighten me! With your plethora of information."

White Rabbit stopped, half her weight on her foot placed half a step back. She wasn't going to retreat further, staring the woman dead in the eyes. "Of course you don't." Her words jabbed at the woman's ears like a thumb trying to shove an insult deep into her head. "You killed a bunch of fences. What do fences do?" Why yes, she was talking to her like the children she spoke about, but if she was really a child, she'd be nicer. "Buy things. Sell things. Sell fun little plants, drinks, and powders. To people! Who have to take them. If they stop cold. What happens? They become food for the worms. If they have children. What happens to them? And no!" She snapped, grinning teeth looking more like a threat. "You can't say they'd be given to family. Or that they'd be adopted. I'll agree. I will, because I think, that some would be okay. But what about the others? No. Nononono, they. Become wormfood too. If they don't get picked up by those same people you hunt. Isn't. That. Funny?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Then that was their own negligence!" Bexy spoke sharply, eyes glaring daggers as they didn't move and ilm from White's. "It is no fault of mine if one who partakes ceases to breathe, and those who relied on them suffer for it. That was always a consequence of their actions. Even had I not killed the fences, disrupted the flow, something else would have come along in due time, and some other tragedy would have befallen them. It makes it no less unfair, but it is the truth, and I feel not an onze of guilt for it. I want to know where my friends are, White. I want to know if they're alive, if they've been moved, if they've been sold. But it won't change my actions. I'll keep killing them anyway; every bastard that deigns to wear that mark, for what they have done."

White Rabbit breathed out an audible sigh. Her gaze narrowed under brows weighted down by the woman's reply. "Then I won't help you. If you're not goin' to think." Moving to turn she went to step away. It wasn't a retreat— she was cutting the woman off, leaving her in the cold.

Bexy Amalaryssia slips wordlessly by the Raen, a level glare in her gaze as she makes for the already locked door... And upon settling a gloved hand on the handle, freezes it shut, slaking the door and frame with ice. "...You're leaving me with little choice, White. I didn't want it to come to this. I didn't." If she was honest, her tone didn't budge an ilm for it. "You have information that could see them returned home. And you are in my way." Slowly, she begins to pace towards White...

White Rabbit stopped part way towards her bed, staring forward. Shite. "I might." She didn't move, except for her gaze. It dropped down to the tile, watching her shadow approach. "If I don't tell you. Are you goin' to kill me? I have to ask. I really do or the curiosity might kill me first. What number would I be?”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Three hundred and twenty four." Bexy half whispers. The cold seems to snake through the air with every footfall, leaving a small patch of ice with each step. She lingers just an ilm behind White's shoulder. "...I might. You already know far too much about me. And if you won't tell... Then, what use are you? They'll just find a body. No weapon. Nothing. Just another wet room."

White Rabbit's smile pulled into a lopsided smirk. She knew the count was high, but that high? Even she was surprised— disgust and amusement curdly mixed into something that sat behind her gaze that blinked forward at the cold. It sprung up thousands of goosebumps across her skin. Or it could have been the woman's whisper. Maybe both. "I was right~" she sung, her prideful tone lifting her words into the air. "You think I will tell you." she stated as-matter-of-fact-like. "If you didn't, I'd already be dead. I wouldn't be sayin' these words and you— oh you wouldn't be breathin' down my neck. You can. Keep doin' that. The heat has been almost unbearable this sun! Almost."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Almost." Bexy whispers, echoing her word. Tension fills the air as Bexy slowly draws a breath. "If you won't tell me outright, there's other ways of getting people to talk..." The strange, faint sound of ice, somewhere between a groan and a crackle is given as a slender blade materialises between Bexy's fingers. "...Tell me, White. I won't ask nicely again."

White Rabbit breathed in. And. Turned around! "Is there?" Her attention snapped to the sound. She knew there was. "You were askin' nice-like? You could have fooled me." Looking from the blade to her face, it darted past to the door— her feet hit off the ground, spriting her towards her bedroom alcove, to the window on the other side of the bed.

Bexy Amalaryssia: As soon as White made a move to run, Bexy lunges after her. The ice at her boots was a well practised motion, skidding around the Raen to roughly grab her shirt and slam her sidelong into the wood at the foot of the bed with a sharp shove that sees Bexy then flatten White to her back. "I was asking nicely!" Her words are snapped, and the hint of malice she often withdrew begins to make itself known. The dagger wielding hand is plunged into the flat of White's own, pinning it down. "But this isn't."

White Rabbit shot out an arm frantically grabbing for something, anything to yank her out of the woman's grip. It all went fast, too fast. A sharp gasp of air tried filling her lungs that the wood against her back had pushed out— instead, it caught in her throat, a scream slamming into it and dying into raised words that stumbled out from between her teeth biting down on teeth, "Two million!" She shook. The churn of her stomach felt like her mouth would end up filled with more than just words. "T-Two. Million." Acid licked the back of her throat, letting it burn. "And a whole. Lot. Of somnus." She didn't dare look at her hand. Of course, she was curious, she had an icy dagger shoved through it. How many people got to experience that, she'd have assumed not many if she let her mind wander. The pain that pulsed down her arm didn't let that. "An entire crate. And I'll tell you." She swallowed, trying to slowly catch her breath. "Everythin'."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "You're in no position to be bargaining, White." Bexy quietly reminded. The first dagger is relinquished; to remain in her hand and the wood, as her own gloved hand is brought up to slowly form another. "Tell. Me." The point of the knife is poked firmly enough into the skin of her forearm to draw blood, but not much. "There are worse things I can do to a person."

White Rabbit knew she wasn't. "I-I. Expect. Two million." Again she swallowed, her gaze finally darting over to the poke, but it snapped back to Bexy's own. "I'm goin' to. Need. A healer. You see? You do.” There was a pause. “And the somnus." Then another. It only took up a moment before she explained, "They know. I-Icepick. They're lookin'. For you."

Bexy Amalaryssia: The dagger is pulled away then; that small sliver of information had caught her attention, her icy gaze settling to White's. "They know? The marked ones... They are looking for me?" She allows her question to hang, looking for clarification.

White Rabbit breathed out a shakey breath of air. Then again her entire body shook, not out of fear. No. She wasn't afraid. She hurt. "Yes." came out on a chuckle. "Th-they are. Is it. Really. That surprin'?" Another pause filled the room as she blinked. Her lashes clumped together, damp from her eyes watering up from the constant reminder shoved through her hand. "They're not. Just lookin'. I think. They're plannin' on. Hutnin' you. Down. But you! You. Won't let that. Happen." Her words fell into a whisper. "You. Have. Th-the upper hand. Icepick." In more ways than one. "You should. Th-think. Before you. Make. Your move."

Bexy Amalaryssia stared at White. For a long time she doesn't move, meeting her gaze with some uncertainty... Until Bexy suddenly backs away, the dagger held in hand dissipating into a frigid mist. "Let them come. I'll kill them all." Looking over White, she swallows a small lump that had crawled its way to the pit of her throat. "Tell the fences that so long as they keep from the marked ones, they will be safe from me." Her gaze darts to the dagger still in White's hand... And the doorway, which she takes a few steps towards.

White Rabbit stared back. She didn't move either. She just laid there. Her body trembled on its own as she waited. At her answer, she let out a small 'tsk'. "Is..." she started her gaze following the woman who at least could have done something with the dagger! "that. A promise?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I won't touch them." A hesitation, as she draws her painted lips into a line. "...Promise." She makes for the door, the sound of ice shattering, and the click of a lock.

White Rabbit's gaze stayed locked on the woman the entire way, flinching slightly, just a little at the sound of the ice. It'd melt. She assumed the dagger would too. "...I-I'll. See you, Bexy." she said between a weak smile. "I'm so very sure."

Bexy Amalaryssia sets her hand on the handle, and slowly inhales. A response settles on her lips, on the tip of her tongue... But never quite manages to leave, as Bexy departs the room, closing the door swiftly behind her.

#White back-talked Bexy & all she got was an ice dagger(and it melted)#worst gift EVER #she has a neat scar though #people think scars are hot right???#♕ rp logs — white rabbit #❄ icepick in their sides #Bexy Amalaryssia #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #ff14

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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#♕ aesthetics — white rabbit

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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“You are imperfect, permanently and inevitably flawed. And you are beautiful.”

— Amy Bloom

#she'd definitely say this #♕ quotes — white rabbit

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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Dusty Rose || Which aesthetic colour are you?

My friend, you are hella aesthetic. Everything about you is thoughtful and intentional, from the way you present yourself to the way you've constructed your space. You'd probably make the most impressive cakes. You have a few close relationships that you've poured yourself into, and you both value the little every-day moments you have together. That said, sometimes you get a bit lost in the details and forget to take a holistic look at your life. Who have you left behind? Are you happy, or do you just look it? Remember to have an honest check-in with yourself sometimes.

Tagging: @odt-ff, @antaresffxiv, @umbralsound-xiv, @sayuriaoki, @meandering-mind, @locke-rinannis, @shroudkeeper, @tiergan-vashir, @blueberryaesthetics

#♕ prompts — white rabbit #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #ff14

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ifyougochasingrabbits · 6 months

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TW: Mention of violence, mention of death, mention of slavers. Feat. Xana'h Nbolo

Xana'h Nbolo mumbles to himself as he shuffles up the stairs and down the narrow hallway towards the alchemists' guild. He chews on the butt of his unlit cigarette like he means to eat it, and his fingers are knotted together in front of him, pulling at joints and picking at claws. As he rounds the corner, he nearly misses White Rabbit in the corner and internally debates on whether he should just pretend he didn't see her or stop. Xana'h Nbolo stops, on the first step up, and turns slowly to look at her from behind glasses perched high. "What an interesting and benevolent sight you are, for once, White," he drawls, shuffling closer. The closer he gets, the quieter his voice, until it's near a mumble under his breath. "What a strange place to find you, dipped into a dark corner around this part of the city."

White Rabbit stood leaning against the hallway's wall, her gaze had followed each and every single person who passed through over the bell or two, maybe even three that she had been there. Waiting. Watching for someone. She hadn't seen them yet. Who she did see pulled her ever-present smile into a smirk as she tilted her towards him a little bit. "Is it? Really that strange to see me. Here?" She stared through his shades, making note of how he moved. "It's just a hallway. To the alchemists' guild." White Rabbit stole a glance past him down the hall towards said guild. A super quick one. Her gaze was back on his before he knew it. "Are you goin' there? Are you buyin'? What are you gettin'? Is it somethin' fun~"

Xana'h Nbolo shrugs and tilts his head this way and that. "Not in the city, no, but up here, near there," he gestures towards the guild. "You're as nosey as ever, though, it seems. I am going near there, yes, to... chat. Not buy. Because no one is selling." His teeth grind at the butt of his cigarette, and he makes to dismiss their conversation out of irritation before he remembers why he stopped at all. "Whiiiite," he coos, tilting his head so far to one side his neck makes a discomforting, but relieving crack. "You like to keep your ears close to the ground, yes? You like to eavesdrop and know things, right? I couldn't bother you about hearing something going around the rumor mill, could I?"

White Rabbit narrowed-eyed in amusement. She was torn between opening her mouth and saying she knew or keeping it shut. She compromised with herself, opening her mouth to ask, "There's always somethin' goin' around the rumor mill." Was she going to be that way? Yes. She was. Curious about a lot of things that she just had to wait to have answered. "You'll have to tell me what kind, you see? If you want me to know which it might be." She had a feeling she already did. Like he said, people weren't selling.

Xana'h Nbolo tongues at the butt of his cigarette, moving it from one corner of his mouth to the next. It remains unlit, which is unusual given the time and place. His fingers won't stop fussing with the hems of his coat. He moves to stand right next to White, back up against the wall, and a sigh leaves his lips. "Fences are running scared and refusing to work because a couple were found killed in Thanalan. Would any of your guard friends know more about that?"

White Rabbit watched the movement of his fingers out of the edge of her gaze, her own creeping around his waist when he moved next to her. She'd leave her arm there, around him if he let her as she leaned in, looking up at him smiling a knowing smile. "How many is a couple? Two? Three? What have you heard, Stargazer?"

Xana'h Nbolo frowns, moreso at her words than at the hand around his waist. He doesn't move to keep her from touching him, but his tail flicks and his ears twitch. "A couple is a couple, it's two. Do you know or don't you, if not I have other people to talk to."

White Rabbit frowns back at him, but it's a forced one. The corners leveled out, then curled back up to the slight smile she always held if it wasn't something smirky or devious. Or some mixture of both. It wasn't either now. "I do." She gave him that, but reminded him, maybe annoyingly, "We both know, Stargazer. Most of that kind of know isn't cheap. Or free. But I'll give you a little somethin'. Seein' I'm a kind woman. Don't think you'll get anythin' over at the guild. I already asked. They don't know shite. Not the right kind."

Xana'h Nbolo | This time, he does take a step away and swats at the arm around his waist. "Fine. How much are you asking?" It isn't so much that he's annoyed at her for charging - business is business, and they are, if anything and only, business partners - but the entire situation has him on edge in a way that he hasn't been in years and it's, admittedly, a little scary.

White Rabbit could have asked for coin, it was king in the city. And really anywhere for that matter. She didn't. "One favor." Between them she lifted a finger, reaching out to give a tap on the tip of his nose. "I think that's a good trade! A won-der-ful one. Don't you?"

Xana'h Nbolo scrunches his nose and frowns further. "I don't do favors. Why can't you just ask for coin like every other bastard in this city? It's not like I'm spending it on anything with the recent happenings."

White Rabbit gave him a look, the kind that asked, 'really?'. "How much are you goin' to need when you can get it? Again." She smiled. "It's just one favor. Only one!"

Xana'h Nbolo rolls his eyes behind his glasses. "What is the favor?" He asks, then adds hastily. "I'm not agreeing to it! I want to know what it is before I answer."

White Rabbit lifted her shoulders into a shrug. "I don't know. I don't need one yet! But when I do..." Leeeeaning his way, onto one foot she peered up under his shades. "I'll call on you." She yoinked herself back down onto two feet, leaning against the wall again. "It will be a fair trade! I'm not goin' to ask you to put yourself in harm's way. Or somethin' Similar. No, I couldn't! Wouldn't. Can't do that. I'd miss that face too much."

Xana'h Nbolo follows her face with his own, making sure she can’t see under his glasses. If she does manage to sneak a peek, his eyes are a little red rimmed and bloodshot. "Oh no, I trust your favor wouldn't be dangerous, I suspect it will be annoying though," he huffs and clicks his tongue. "Don't be telling anyone else I gave you a favor - that is not something I trade for. But this one time... fine. Awful creature. Now talk."

White Rabbit did indeed sneak a little peek, making a note. "I won't tell a single livin' soul. Not one!" Her smirk that had claimed her lips softened as she did what he wanted and talked in a hushed voice, "There were four. Of them. Not countin' another. Or the others. That might be connected." Slipping half a step over she bumped into him. "They have red makin', you see? Ones on their face. Do you know about them? What they mean?" She did. "Slavers."

Xana'h Nbolo clicks his tongue, but not at White this time, and sneers, showing fangs. "So I'd heard that they might've been. Feckin' perfect, that regular fences are too scared to show their faces because some slavers got themselves into trouble, I'd feckin' strangle their lights out too." His brows furrow as a hand comes up to rub at his temple. "I know one was found in the south and I haven't been able to travel there either."

White Rabbit let her gaze wander, following his hand. "There was one in the east." She started to count on her fingers, starting with and her index pressing against the other. "He had his throat ripped out." Then to the middle, ring, and back to the index it returned. "There were four in a house. A small house. One in the Golden Bazaar. It's said it was a bloodbath. Three of them had the same markin's. One. Didn't. Nothin' was taken. Same with the one in the east. Except his throat."

Xana'h Nbolo blinks at her, startled. That's a lot more than a couple, but then again no one really wanted to talk about it. The group he frequented didn't do slavers, it's why he liked doing business with them, and talking about them was inviting trouble. "I know of the one in the Bazaar. All else hasn't really been spoken about," he shakes his head. "I don't care that they're dead, they're better for it, but for feck's sake could it have been done quieter? Who the feck is going about making such a show and scaring the rest of the underground economy into the shadows?"

White Rabbit stared at him a moment. Then a moment more. Her mouth kept shut the entire time until she agreed, "They are. Better. Six fulms under." She figured his question was one of those rhetorical one. Her lips parted, just a tiny bit as if to say something. She didn't, pressing them back together into a smile.

Xana'h Nbolo squints at her. His stash may be thinning, and a headache on the rise behind his temples, but he swear he catches White readying to say something, and saying nothing at all. Which is weird, for White, to shut up about something. "What is it?" He asks, bringing his hand down and folding his arms in front of him. "You looked like you had more to say and my gripes are done."

White Rabbit arched a brow, asking, "Did I? I think your shades have a smudge, Stargazer." as the other followed close behind.

Xana'h Nbolo: "And I think you realized that whatever your favor is isn't enough to say what it is you wanted to say," he tilts his head to one side, grinning but it sits sharp and a little wrong. "Let me put it like this - you and I have no business until this gets resolved. I have no product to sell because I'm using it for me. This shite domino effect is ruining those of us who are trying to keep a moral leg up on slavers and we've been lumped in with them anyway. So if you have something to say, White, say. It."

White Rabbit: "What I realized, Stargazer—" the little name she gave him sharpened as it slipped past her toothy grin, "is that. It might be better. If you don't. Know." Her words slowed, losing that sharpness that pointed to poke at his ears. "I think they're a mage." she shared anyway. "The one who's doin' all—" Lifting a hand she waved it around. "this."

Xana'h Nbolo narrows his eyes at her. "What makes you think it's a mage?"

White Rabbit slowly reached a finger out, trying to hook it on the sash tied around his waist. "It's really dry here. In the city. Outside of the city. Inside buildin's that are outside of the city. It'd be strange, so very weird, so odd to find one with a room completely wet anywhere. But here? Of all places." She wondered if he could keep up.

Xana'h Nbolo: "I'm assuming it was wet with something other than the blood leaking out of their torn open throats?" He guesses, as he finally goes digging through his coat for a match. "I would've thought someone let a hungry, wild animal in the room with them. Hands off, but the same outcome - dead."

White Rabbit shook her head. "Their throats weren't torn open. Or out. Not like that other guy." She added on, confirming that, "The room was. Wet. Damp-like. With water. Not blood."

Xana'h Nbolo mouths the word 'water' like he's trying to decipher what that means. "So it's either a conjurer, or a thaumaturge and the ice melted," he decides. "Either one making a scene like this would make sense; one doesn't know better and the other just doesn't give a shite." He hums as he lights his battered cigarette, and as the smokes it the violent flicking of his tail becomes smoother, swaying. "I'll keep that in mind. Anything else?"

White Rabbit added a third option, "Or they're sendin' a message." She eyed the cigarette. If it was any other time her hand would have been already halfway to plucking it out of her mouth, but it wasn't.

Xana'h Nbolo scoffs. "It's slavers. You can send a message by killing them quietly, I assure you. By making this big to-do, now every fencer, not just the ones that have no morals, are afraid of getting mistaken for the wrong people."

White Rabbit: "Which makes it more difficult for the slavers. If fences. Any of them aren't sellin' do you think they're buyin'? No. Nonononono." She shook her head towards him, whispering out, "They're not." Standing up she shrugged. "But what do I know." A lot. "I'm just a silly little rabbit."

Xana'h Nbolo: "Can't buy from dead people," he grouses. "Look, there's no winning in this, but there's a better way to do it. Lots of us can't do work now because of this, and I can't get any of what I need." He shoves his fingers underneath his glasses and rubs his eyes. He looks like he wants to ask something, but instead says, "If this keeps up for a week, don't come looking for me. I'll be of no use for your favor, nor will I be in the mood to see anyone."

White Rabbit let out a small chuckle behind a smile that looked a little strained. Or it could have been the bad lighting. "No. You can't. Unless you can talk to the dead. Can people do that? Talk to them. Would that mean you could buy from them too?" That train of thought veered onto another track, the look on his face being the lever that changed it over. "What is it?" she asked the familiar question. If he thought she'd leave it at just the question, he'd be wrong. "What were you goin' to say? To ask? Come on, stargazer. I told you. Didn't I? Think of it as another trade~"

Xana'h Nbolo: "I'm sure some people can try to. I've heard White Mages can do ridiculous things, so why not talk to the dead?" He follows her silly train of thought, hoping she'll keep on it until she doesn't. He sighs into his hands, and brings them back down to fuss with his sash. "Can you... check on the house, in a week's time. I can't be there until this is shite has worked itself out, but I can't leave the house empty." He keeps it vague, but he thinks she'll be able to pick up on it just fine.

White Rabbit let out an amused huff, thinking the whole talking to the dead was silly. They're dead. But the train was past that. She stared at him through his shades, breaking away to watch his fussy hands a moment. Only a moment. Her gaze returned back on up. "I. Can. Do that."

Xana'h Nbolo sucks in a long drag and lets the smoke billow out thick through his nose. "Great," he says, like it's the easiest thing in the world to ask for help. "Thanks for the information. I'm still going to go talk to some people at the guild, ask some things that you don't need to know." He points a clawed finger at her, but smirks for the first time today. "Stars be with you or whatever."

White Rabbit smirked a big smirk, one that pulled horn to horn and rounded her cheeks that pushed her gaze into a squint. "I don't? Now I'm curious. How can I not be? When you say it like that." Maybe she'd go poking her nose. Or she'd just make him think she would. There were choices. "I'll see you." She gave him a wiggly wave of her fingers in farewell, staying where she was to people-watch a little longer.

#[animal planet narraitor] and here we see a paranoid addict learning to trust #isn't it a beautiful sight?#♕ rp logs — white rabbit #❄ icepick in their sides #Xana'h Nbolo #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #ff14

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