Tora Steals Things

Dwag waddled across her small studio space towards her desk along the far wall, kicking boxes of tools and gears out of the way as she went. “Things like ‘how does sylvari anatomy work?’ ‘What do they have down there?’ ‘Can they be a boy and a girl at the same time?’ Can they have se—” Before she could even finish she was interrupted by peels of laughter and spun around to find Bandi buckled over, laughing so hard he was shaking.

“Oh you think that’s funny do you?!” Scowling, she crossed her arms and glared. “I’m an engineer, not a sylvari biologist! And discussions on your race’s hypothetical mating practices are hardly a favoured topic!”

“Mating practices?!” he wheezed.

“Bandi!” Her ears were as red as his dumb dress.

“Sorry!” He coughed, trying to stifle the laughter, but failing. At least he was standing upright again. “Sorry. Did wonder why the bloke was so jumpy all the time. Didn’t think it’d be that. Wow.”

“You didn’t—?! You flirt with him every time you’re here!”

“Aw come on, I flirt with everyone! Don’t I tell ya yer pretty enough?” He took a long drag from that weird cigarette holder he always carried, no longer giggling but still managing to be irritating regardless.

Rolling her eyes, she dragged out a stool for him before plopping herself in her desk chair. “Well do less of it,” she said. “I’m Halladr’s mentor, not his parent. I don’t feel like walking him through a sexual identity crisis.”

“Fine, sure.“ He said but clearly didn’t mean. With a shrug he followed her, but didn’t sit, casually blowing trails of smoke behind him. She snarled at the sight.

“And put that shit out. You know how I feel about smoke in my workshop.”

Bandi sniffed the air and winced. “Apparently ya love it. Work not goin’ well?”

Her latest job was a cooling container for a local brewery. She’d been placing a power stone in its circuitry and the whole thing blew out when it smashed, making the small studio smell thickly of burnt wires and chemicals. It wouldn’t have even happened if a certain someone hadn’t shown up with no warning again!

The tired asura sighed once more, long and drawn out. She knew she wasn’t being fair.

“Work’s on hold now. Broke my last power stone.”

Without a word Bandi slipped a hand into his gun holster, and pulled out another power stone about the size of his thumb. He flicked it onto the table for Dwag to observe. She grinned despite herself. That sly salad.

Tora, or “Bandi,” leafed through the folder of documents Dwag handed him, thinking. He had more work ahead of him than he liked. This was a lot of addresses and people to sift through. A few ideas floated in his head on how to narrow that number of folks down, but he’d think it through later. Now he had to move out and meet up with his strange new ally.

Dwag shuffled over to the door and pressed a button to swing it open. Ol’ Hall was on the other side, as anxious as they left him.

“Take our guest to the door, Halladr. Then it’s back to work.” Dwag commanded.

The young norn dutifully took him down the hall, careful not to touch him, but not as careful about where his eyes lingered. Tora raised an eyebrow at him, mulling over whether he had the energy to tease the poor bloke. The norn froze the moment their eyes met, his face transforming into a panicked tomato. The sight made Tora chuckle.

He couldn’t believe this guy was fussing over what business was between Tora’s legs. Non-sylvari folk worry about the weirdest shit, he thought.

They reached the door then, dutiful jumpy Hall opening it for Tora like a scared human nobleman. He looked ridiculous. Tora faced the open doorway, the night air brushing the leaves of his wig against his cheek. He moved to exit, but stopped.

An idea curled the edges of his lips into a mischievous grin.

The sun peered over the horizon, painting Lion’s Arch in red and gold hues as Tora made his way to a small cafe hidden away in the city’s many winding streets. He passed by the city’s infamous lion statue on his way, wincing as the oncoming dawn weaponized it against him with blinding flashes of light. It was way too early for his tastes, but he’d let that odd FPS guy choose the time while he chose the place. They’d meet-up, exchange what they found the night prior, then make a plan of attack.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to pay FPS for his help, a kiss maybe? The guy did seem pretty enamoured with him. That felt too optimistic though, and honestly a bit wrong. Just give him a cut of your pay, he thought reluctantly. His wallet would hurt for sure and rent was coming up, but that was the simplest answer. If he’d been smart about it, he’d have asked for more pay upfront: this job was already proving to be more work than it was worth.

Tora caught his reflection in a nearby window: no dress or wig today—just his regular clothes and oversized coat. Would FPS even recognize him? Should he have dressed up a bit? He frowned at his reflection, thinking it over again but deciding against it. He needed practical clothes today, and nothing too flashy. FPS would have to just deal.