When the solution to his little problem presents itself after 48 hours of hardcore spiralling and more cups of coffee than would be healthy for any creature, Riz almost wants to give himself a hard shake for missing it for so long. Looking at it now, it was all so obvious. How could it have taken him this long to think of it?
With an almost feral pleasure, Riz hunts down a small picture of Fabian and pins it onto his case board. For a moment he allows his claws to brush over it where it sits, pinned right next to a picture of the mansion, the scrap of paper detailing the planned birthday celebration of the mansion's owner and a small newspaper photo of his target himself, before he turns sharply on his heel, his tail flicking wildly as he grabs his coat and sets out for Seacaster Manor.
---
Scaling the side of Seacaster Manor up to Fabian's bedroom window is as easy as breathing. His claws effortlessly find the various little handholds and imperfections in the old wood and the window sill is perfectly sized for one small goblin to pull himself up onto as he shakes his thieves tools out of his cuff. The fact that Fabian had never bothered to make it any harder for him to get inside is all the proof Riz needs that he doesn't actually mind these little visits.
Before too long, the window's lock gives with a soft little click, and Riz slips into the room. For a moment he just stands there, rubbing one hand over his stubbly cheek as he surveys the room with his dark-vision. And when he spots Fabian's silver --just grey now, in the monochrome wash of the dark-- head of hair among the ludicrously soft elven sheets in his ridiculously vast bed, he steps forwards, an excited grin on his face.
"Fabian," he whisper-shouts in a voice raspy from lack of use and with a slightly manic edge to it. "Fabian, wake up, I need you to take me on a date."
It's a milestone in many childhoods to grow up and get out of the house but, once again, money has its privileges. Fabian has more than just your typical apartment space in his wing of the manor. Why the fuck would he move out when he had a maid and his mom (+Gilear) lived in a whole other section of this galleon-made-manor? He'd rather save his money... or spend it on shoes. Part of the aforementioned shoe collection was out for display on their racks, still in the process of being cleaned.
Fabian does leave his windows accessible to simple lockpicking, though sometimes he forgets it's for his friends more than being just being too lazy and confident to lock them properly; sometimes one just needs the breeze, to lie back and hear the creak of that old ship's hull and to think about a voyage on the sea without actually being on that godforsaken desert of water. And at this point he's fairly confident he could challenge anyone who could steal into his room at night.
Which is why the half-elf, snorfling awake, immediately begins to go for the blade displayed on the headboard, other hand grasping the ludicrously soft sheets up to his chest like he has anything to hide. He's wearing a singlet and boxers. He looks like some sort of silver revenant, half-lurching to his own defense.
"Riz?" He must truly be half-conscious, going for the goblin's name rather than his moniker. The sword falls to his side, slicing a line gently into the comforter."Da- Hwhat--?"
The half-elf lets go the sheets in order to rub some sleep out of his good eye, though he blinks at the goblin groggily. He is absolutely pouting.
Riz steps closer to the bed, not even bothered by the sword. His hands move in sharp little jabs of excitement as he talks. It's not even something he's realising he is doing, but just his body trying desperately to burn off the excess energy that comes from having a breakthrough on his case.
"I said I need you to take me on a date. I have-- I really should've thought of you sooner. You are perfect for this. I already know we work well together and-- we'll need to prepare of course. Clothes and an invite, but I don't think those should be a problem for you at all--"
He's rambling, his mind quickly jumping from one topic to the next, trying to tell Fabian everything at once.
"I'm awake now, you blustering--" Whatever onslaught of an educated vocabulary Fabian intended, it's drawn short by his brain actually parsing what the other words were. He doesn't need to think on that long because Riz is elaborating.
Is he literally having a nightmare right now? Can't be. Riz is always slipping down his body in those, telling him what a good boy he is with that tail lashing behind, getting ready to do something even more awful. Riz is being too manic for his brain and somehow this translates as a reality for him.
"I--" Fabian drops the blade in favor of surging across his bed. He'll grab Riz up by the collar if he can manage to.
"The Ball, please. The birds aren't even awake yet."
And Fabian is already tossing part of his ridiculous, luxurious sheets across Riz. Did Riz just tell him he needs to be his date? Yep. Fabian's just gonna try to burrito the goblin up in some of his best fabric in hopes this is just some temporary, pot-shot ploy. After years, he knows his friend can have some pot-shot plans. He'll maybe entertain, or at least respond to them, at a decent hour or/if Riz gets some sleep. Fabian's also willing to flop right across the goblin if he's still being unruly. ]
"There are nocturnal birds! Like owls!" Riz protests even as Fabian grabs him by the collar and starts to swaddle him in one of his ridiculous soft Elven blankets. And really, the fact that Fabian was able to grapple him so effectively before Riz had even had a chance to do anything of his Cool Rogue Shit is testament to just how tired he is.
Soon enough he's been turned into a burrito (a burrizzo, a small manic voice inside his own brain that sounds suspiciously like Kristen points out) and he can do nothing more but blink owlishly from between the oh-so-soft blankets. His traitorous body, whose desperate pleas for sleep Riz has been ignoring for the last twelve hours or so, relaxes helplessly into the soft, warm cocoon even as Riz tries to fight it.
"No, no, I still have to tell you about our--" interrupted by a yawn that Riz unsuccessfully tries to squash, "our mhmm cover stories and--"
"Sh- Shut up!" Fabian snaps at Riz's protests. This fuckin' nerd... Sure, Fabian is beautiful but he's not elf enough to not need sleep and he means to take it, dammit! And he's just sleepy enough he's willing to not think about the consequences or implications of spooning up against his cocooned friend.
"Tomorrow." He grumbles, squeezing the other in the sheets like some sort of silken threat. "As in the sun is up. I won't hear it now."
That said, he faceplants into the sheets somewhere between Riz's shoulders. Perhaps there's something to be said for the stubbornness of elves, the rich, or simply Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He's just going to lock down for the night, and in the morning, there's Catilda slipping in to quietly check on the progress of the shoe collection. She might usually do the work of a fairy cobbler in the night, but it's obvious what's needed this morning is a little trolley of breakfast things. Naturally, Fabian is waking up and leaning into the potent smell of lox on toast, rolling onto Riz in the process.
Somewhere between the softness of the blanket cocoon and the bone-deep exhaustion of his body (okay, and maybe just a tiny bit due to being spooned which, as it turns out, is surprisingly comfortable?) Riz actually manages to fall asleep.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Call the press, the boy is actually asleep.
He sleeps through the sunrise (which is when Fabian technically gave him permission to tell him about his brilliant scheme), Cathilda bustling around Fabian's room (She is supposed to be a fighter, but man, she must have taken about ten levels of rogue too because she is quiet) but what he can't sleep through is suddenly being rolled on top of by a giant lug.
Riz snaps awake, his brain too hazy and confused to immediately make sense of his situation. All it knows is that there's suddenly a heavy weight on top of him, and his hands are pinned to his body by the sheets and, fuck, he must be under attack. He was stupid and fell asleep and someone (something) came for him.
"HWAUAH!" Fabian is legitimately surprised to have another person under him, or rather a cloth mummy doing so. He rolls back onto the bed clutching toast to his chest.
"RIZ???" He thought he dreamed you, bro! The packaging the goblin is in probably actually saves him from getting shot.
Fabian's voice breaks through the budding, building, cresting panic, disrupting his spiralling thoughts (he got caught, he fucked up, he's going to die, again, because he fucked up and--) for a more sensible part of Riz's mind to take stock and inventory of the situation and the sparse memories he has of last night.
Right. Right, this is Fabian's room. This is Fabian's bed. He recalls breaking in her last night to tell Fabian about his breakthrough and--
Right. Okay. He's fine. He's in Fabian's bed and he's fine.
His heart still hammers in his chest as the panic starts to ebb away and Riz starts squirming in his cocoon of sheets, his ears pinned flat to his head. Normally he doesn't mind it too much when Fabian wraps him up in his sheets. Like. Fabian saved his life that way once. It's kind of a bad look for him to mind it at all. But right now, the constricting fabric pinning his limbs against him is pinging all the panicky parts of his brain that are on a hair trigger to start firing again.
"You're good, my man. Chill. You're in my room. You're welcome..." Is Fabian's sleepy, but now level response. He almost feels bad rolling on Riz but, to be fair, he had been... balled up into something of a pillow. Hah!
Anyway, the half-elf helps release the goblin with one hand, shucking aside sheets and pushing Riz to roll ( gently, perhaps surprisingly ) until his cocoon became loose enough that the goblin could wriggle free if he really wanted to. He will probably do just that, but in the case that he doesn't, Fabian will continue to unwind him.
The other hand is serving breakfast into the young master of the house's mouth in small bites between rolls. The scent of coffee and tea pervades the area. Cathilda is Cathilda... so of course there are good munchies for the guest along with the coffee if he wants them.
"Sooo... What the fuck?" Like they didn't just technically spoon all night.
Nothing wrong with tenderly spooning your best bro all night. That's just best bros stuff, right? Totally normal homies stuff.
Riz wriggles free as soon as he can, sitting up to rub his hands over his face for a moment and then through his hair. Which, ew, greasy. And the fact that he can't remember when he took a shower last is probably a good indication that he's long overdue for one.
He's soon distracted from the sorry, janky state of his body by the smell of coffee though, and he quickly helps himself to a big mug of it. He's not ignoring the food, merely prioritising his one true love over it for the moment. Coffee first, food second. That's truly the Gukgak way.
"Right." He takes a sip of coffee, not even caring if it scalds his tongue just a little. He's shifting back into Case Mode. "I need you to take me to a party as a date."
It's frankly to Fabian's credit he takes a moment to take a bite out of his toast-and-lox. It shows a level of maturity, even if that maturity is still within the realm of being spoilt.
"So that wasn't a dream..." He muses and also says nothing about that implication. Amazingly, since they've graduated, Fabian rarely yells his confusion. He just pinches his brow between thumb and forefinger.
"Why?" It's Riz. Fabian understands this can't be for shits and giggles.
Riz wishes he had his board here so he could properly explain the entire case to Fabian. For a moment, he actually considers quickly building a make-shift case board for him right here in his room. He could do it. All the information is in his brain, and over the years he's gotten really good at improvising case boards out of the oddest materials.
Ultimately he dismisses the thought mainly because Fabian's bed is nice and soft, and the cup of coffee between his hands is hot and delicious.
"So, I've been working on a case -- embezzlement and fraud. I was hired by one of the victims who lost a lot of money to the guy responsible. And they aren't the only one. This guy is good. Horrible person, obviously, but good at what he does, so it's been hell trying to find the proof needed to take him down. He's got enough people in his pocket that you can't really get anything done through the legal channels, cause when you try, the people who are supposed to investigate and deal with this stuff just shut it down." Idly, he starts clacking his claws lightly against the mug he is holding. "I've narrowed down where he keeps his financial records -- all the stuff I need to take him down -- but I can't get to it. He's got his place locked down like a fortress. All the best wards and tech to keep people out. Even I can't get in it. Or, at least, I can't get in and out with the data without getting caught."
Riz knows he is a good rogue, but even for a good rogue without back-up, there is limits to just how sneaky you can get.
"But, that's where you come in."
Riz gives Fabian a momentary grin, all sharp teeth and glinting eyes.
"Next week, my target is throwing a birthday party at his place, one of those big rich people ones where everybody who is someone is invited. Normally I'd try to get in my way -- you know, sneak myself into his staff and carry out the job that way, but uh, the guy really doesn't like goblins. Wouldn't ever trust one on his staff." Riz shrugs for a moment. "Turns out the fraudulent, embezzling shithead is also a racist shithead. What else is new, right?"
"But you, you are Fabian Aramais Seacaster." For a moment, grinning cheekily as he does so, Riz mimics the pompous tone Fabian used to use to introduce himself to people, gesturing with his cup of coffee and nearly slopping some onto Fabian's sheets. "Nobody would say no to you if you wanted to show up to some fancy party. I bet you could get an invite for yourself and a date before the end of the day if you tried."
"The date would be me, obviously. He can keep Goblins off his staff, but he can't turn away a guest without making some huge fuss. You get me in, I do my thing, and we get out nobody the wiser." Riz takes a slurping sip of his coffee, until he seems to think of something, adding a quick: "I mean, you aren't dating anyone right now, right? You haven't told me if you are, but it's just for the one night so I figured it would be okay." His ears flick, flattening a little. "And, to be honest, I've been breaking my head over this for the last two days, and I haven't been able to come up with any other solution."
Fabian more or less listens to Riz - at least catching most of the important parts - while he munches on his toast and sips his tea, no doubt slipping over a little platter beneath himself and then the goblin in the meantime to catch crumbs; Cathilda changes the sheets often, but he has long since realized he loves Cathilda, so he tries not to be as flagrantly messy as he used to be. Riz could have easily used Fabian's ridiculous, varied collection of shoes to illustrate his point during the explanation - a portion of them have even been recently pulled out for cleaning and stand near his closet at one side of the room, after all - but it's not necessary.
There's no denying how Fabian swells a little at being validated through his status, the smirk growing ever larger around the toast, his manner becoming more fluid and relaxed with the swell of confidence. He's basically flopped onto his back with the tray on his chest when Riz ends his diatribe, sipping tea. It could be this breakfast in bed, or maybe Fabian's particularly amenable to suggestion this close to being woken up. Either way, he's just going to give a blink and a furrow of his brow.
"I get my kisses in!" He'll insist, because somehow this insinuation about being single seems loaded when it comes from Riz. Look. He's just keeping himself open ( after a couple failures to launch, we'll be honest )! His own work right now is better if he stays that way. And what Riz is asking of him? That's not too far from what he's keeping himself entertained with these days, honestly.
"Okay, The Ball. I get where you're coming from, but you're not..."
Ragh Barkrock is one of Fabian's very best friends, Fig is engaged to Ada at this point (if not already married, we assume), and Kristin is married to Tracker so he's not about to freak out at the concept of a gay relationship. But:
"Interested like that. I mean that's never been you." He swipes a napkin from the tray nearby, dabbing his mouth before delicately sweeping crumbs into it. "Why wouldn't you want to be my bastard of a brother instead? My father's ehm... charmed many a woman in his time."
Which, oops, brings back the memory of a certain mindflayer claiming to have gobbled them up... Nevermind, though.
Riz's ears twitch upwards at the suggestion "Do rich people often bring their bastard little brothers to fancy parties? Is that actually a thing?"
He leaves the comment on his sexuality (or lack thereof) for what it is. It's not that he has any particular problems talking about it to Fabian, it's more of an... everybody thing.
When he was younger, it was a topic he had avoided because of how messy and uncomfortable it was -- not knowing or understanding part of himself had been a death knell for Riz, and while he is very happy for his friends who can talk through those subjects with others to come to a conclusion, that had never been him.
(probably also why, despite a few gentle suggestions, therapy also had never been a Riz thing)
Nowadays, it is something he has mostly sorted out for himself. Asexual, because that interest had never really developed at all (not even when he had gotten to what would've been his junior year in college, which is when his dad said everything had sorted into place for him), but perhaps not wholly aromantic (not that he has any experience with it, but the concept of it is not something entirely out of the realm he could see himself engaging in and enjoying).
But it is something he has ever really brought up with his friends when he had finally figured it out. Not that he is even worried for a single moment that they would judge him! He's just fairly certain none of them would ever be interested in dating him (really, who would date a twitchy little goblin who isn't even interested in... in half of what makes dating interesting to most people?) so it felt like superfluous information in the same way he doesn't talk about his underwear size.
Of course, when you are Riz Gukgak, most things either start with a case, involve a case, or get turned into a case somewhere along the line, but anyway--
Five days ago, Mrs Pebbleshine (Halfling, middle-aged, clutching a giant purse to her chest like a shield) had walked into his office, asking him to investigate whether or not her husband was having an affair. It was not the sort of case Riz enjoyed taking, but a job was a job and Mrs Pebbleshine had reminded him somewhat of Mrs Luckstone and anyway, money to cover his office rent did not grow on trees.
Riz hadn't expected it to be a difficult case; these sort of cases usually weren't. He'd tail Mr Pebbleshine for a few days with his camera, which was generally enough to answer the question of whether or not he was stepping out on his wife with another woman (or man, or person of undetermined gender) and afterwards he'd report the results to Mrs Pebbleshine. Simple and neat. For him at least; Mrs Pebbleshine might need to deal with the reality of her marriage breaking down and her husband's infidelity, but Riz was a detective, not a marriage counsellor.
(Though he could probably ask Jawbone about a referral to one of those? It would be an exceedingly weird conversation to have, with a veritable minefield of Jawbone's very graphic, far too informational anecdotes lurking underneath the surface, but maybe it would help Mrs Pebbleshine a bit?)
In any case, for the first few days, it had all gone pretty simple and neat. Mr Pebbleshine was on the move a lot, moving smoothly between a seemingly endless circle of acquaintances, having lunches and dinners like he was singlehandedly trying to keep Elmville's restaurant industry afloat. Really, Riz could kinda see how Mrs Pebbleshine had gotten the impression her husband was having an affair. He certainly was spending most of his time outside of the home, but so far, Riz had not been able to catch him in any meeting that wasn't aboveboard. The only thing that got exchanged were firm handshakes.
That all had changed when last night, Mr Pebbleshine had gone to a hotel. It was the sort of hotel that wasn't quite seedy, but wasn't quite on the up and up either; the sort of place that got paid for in cash more than anything else and where the staff were very good at not seeing a thing. Riz had really expected this to be it, that he'd be snapping a few pictures of Mr Pebbleshine and his mysterious date (Clean ones, of course! Nothing gross) and he'd be able to wrap this case up in the morning and deliver the results to Mrs Pebbleshine.
But it turned out Mr Pebbleshine (also halfling, middle-aged, with a jovial moustache and rosey cheeks) was not having an affair at all. He wasn't two-timing on his wife, exchanging kisses with some young secretary or pool boy. The only thing Mr Pebbleshine was exchanging was vast amounts of illegal cash.
Mr Pebbleshine was running an illegal gambling ring.
And suddenly, things were very interesting indeed.
---
Now, hours(?) later, Riz is hunched over his desk, furiously scribbling down his thoughts as they come. The light that slants through his office blinds had gone from dark, to bright, to the dim of dusk again, making its unnoticed journey across the floorboards of Riz's office as Riz had worked on the conspiracy board taking shape behind him. The web around Mr Pebbleshine was slowly taking shape, but Riz would have to go over all the people he had met with over the last few days to see where they fitted into this case. Some would undoubtedly be innocent, but others--
Pausing, Riz reaches for his mug to take a sip of-- oh, empty.
For a moment Riz just stares at the empty mug, debating whether he has sunk low enough yet to just lick the dredges off the inside of the cup, before he resolutely sets it down again. It's fine. He's a proper detective. He doesn't need coffee. He can do this without.
He could, of course, make new coffee, but the machine is all away across the room, and the case is taking shape between his hands, thumbtacks and red string plotting out connections and relationships, and well... at least he won't have to tell Mrs Pebbleshine her husband is having an affair.
Of course, the news that he is a criminal probably won't be much better.
(Unless she is in on it of course, which... huh. Better add her to the board too. Just in case)
Had Riz had had a choice, he certainly wouldn't have chosen this ship.
Normally when he stows away, Riz chooses freighters or large passenger vessels -- the sort of ships where it is easy for one small Goblin to find a hideyhole for the duration of the trip. But he's been waiting for several standard weeks now for a ship, any ship heading off this planet and towards his intended destination, the information on his mother's possible whereabouts burning a metaphorical hole in his pocket, and fuck it, this will have to do.
Getting onto the ship is fairly easy. It's an old gunship, pre-Empire even, and the security on its doors does not stand up to the techniques Kalina taught him. All he has to do is wait for the ship's owner --a strange, helmet-wearing man-- to leave, before he darts out from the hangar's shadows, lifting a small panel off the ship's hull and connecting a few wires to bypass the door's lock.
Once he's inside, and after he's restored the panel -- "Sloppiness gets you killed in our line of business, kid." -- its time to focus on finding a place to hide. The cockpit is out, of course. Too small and too populated during flight. Ordinarily, he prefers cargo holds but it looks like on this ship the main living area and hold are intermingled, leaving few good hiding spots. In the end, it's a small vent that catches Riz's eye. It's a tight fit, even for him, but if everything goes well, this shouldn't be a long trip.
And if things don't go well... well, it'll also be a short trip.
There are certain advantages to flying old, pre-Empire ships. They're less dependent on droids, for one, and Mando has never been particularly shy about his distaste for droids. They also tend to slink under the Empire's radar, since no one is trying to track ships as old as the Razor Crest anymore. They're also cheap to maintain and keep going, which is good when you're never quite sure where your next credit will come from. Maybe someday Mando will upgrade, but for now, he's got other priorities.
Hell, he doesn't even have full beskar yet. Another mission or two and he should be able to afford the last piece. Until then, he'll keep wearing imitation beskar on his thigh and hope no one aims there.
And then there's the kid. What's he going to do with the little monster?
One thing at a time. They're refueled and resupplied, and Mando can breathe a little easier with that. Next thing to do is figure out where the kid's people are, so he can deliver him to them. And probably pick up a bounty or two along the way, because hey, if he's flying in that direction anyway, might as well make some credits while he's at it.
The Razor Crest takes off without any issues, and Mando keeps the kid in the cockpit with him. He could put the kid in the closet in the hold again, but he's finding he kind of likes the company. Even if the kid can't talk, it's nice having someone to talk to... even if that usually involves telling him not to tear apart the ship.
"No." The kid is going after the gear shift again, fascinated by the ball on its end. "No, that's not for you. Leave it alone."
Riz holds his breath when he feels the old gunship start to shudder and rise. It's a bit silly, really. He knows that during take-off, he's least likely to be discovered -- everybody's attention is on getting the ship spaceborne, especially on a small vessel like this -- but perhaps it is the sense of finality, the sense of having all his options narrowed down to one.
It is almost... comforting.
Before take-off, there is room for second-guessing -- for wondering if he has chosen the right ship, if he was spotted coming aboard, if he should abandon the attempt and find a different ship instead. But once they are up in the air, there is no sense in thinking about that. He has to commit to this course of action now.
With the engine running, Riz can feel warm air brushing past him. This vent must be part of the system that regulates the hold temperature with residual heat from the engine. Well, he thinks to himself as he settles in for the long haul, trying to get as comfortable as he can in the limited space, at least he won't be cold on this trip.
gasp, I almost wrote warp drive instead of hyperspace
With the gear shift clearly off limits--or off limits for now, until Mando's back is turned--the kid gets restless. He keeps craning his neck around and looking deeper into the Razor Crest, like there's something there catching his interest. After some fruitless squirming to get free, he starts squeaking and waving his little arms around.
"What?"
There's only so much entertaining Mando can do before they enter hyperspace. Once they do, though, he puts the ship into autopilot and stands up.
"Are you hungry?" The kid is acting like he's maybe hungry? Or just bored? Who the hell knows? Mando scoops him up and carries him into the hold.
It must be the right choice, because the kid coos and starts reaching excitedly for the ceiling.
"What? There's nothing up there, just some vents." To demonstrate, Mando reaches up and thumps one of the vents blowing warm air into the hold.
Riz's ears flatten against his skull when he hears the pilot leave the cockpit and get into the back of the ship. He can't have been spotted, right? No, that doesn't make sense. Who would take off knowing they have a stow-away on board?
No, this must be routine for this stranger. Perhaps he just needs the vacc tube or plans to sleep while the ship travels through hyperspace.
It's at this time that Riz first catches sight of the man's little companion --he knew there was one, had heard him talking to someone, though so far they had been out of sight-- and the sight surprises him so much --a goblin? here?-- that he forgets to bite down on a small noise of surprise when the man bangs on the grate in front of him.
He stuffs his fingers into his mouth immediately afterwards, but the damage has been done. All he can hope is that his little squeak of surprise was lost in the noise or that the man chalks it up to his little companion.
When Mando thumps the vents, the kid reaches his little paws up, waving and cooing. Mando feels that weird thrumming in the air, like a little shiver of electricity, that passes from the kid to the vent cover, and he reacts a second too late. The vent cover pops loose and clatters to his feet, pulled off the wall by the kid's weird power.
And then there's someone in the vent.
Mando's reaction is instantaneous: he shifts the kid to the back of his hip, so he's behind two layers of beskar and many pounds of Mandalorian. At the same time, his free hand yanks his blaster out of its holster and points at the thing in the vent.
He almost fires. But then he sees the thing's face, and it looks like an older version of the kid, and he hesitates.
"What are you doing on my ship?"
The kid wriggles behind him, peeking out from over Mando's hip and squeaking cheerfully at the thing in the vents.
Riz has one moment of seeing the vent cover in front of him tremble and waver before it suddenly drops to the floor and he's left staring into the face-- the helmet of the pilot.
The stranger isn't the only one going for his blaster; even within the confines of the vent, Riz manages to grab the small, black blaster at his hip --the one that has been sized to perfectly fit into a goblin's hands, the one that had once belonged to his father-- only afterwards thinking that perhaps making himself seem even more dangerous isn't the wisest course of action here.
Though it pains him to do so, he lowers his blaster, his tail lashing and thumping against the inside of the vent behind him. "I just-- I needed to get off that planet. You weren't supposed to see me."
The kid is all wriggles, trying happily and eagerly to get at the guy in the vents. If he doesn't settle down soon, Mando is going to end up dropping either the kid or his blaster.
When the guy in the vents lowers his own blaster, Mando lowers his too. Just a fraction, easily able to get it back up and into the stranger's face, but he's not going to fire on someone who isn't making themselves a threat. Even if he did stowaway on Mando's ship.
"Lots of ships going off-world. Why mine?"
The kid chooses that exact moment to squeak loudly and make a lunge towards the vent, and Mando is forced to shift him around to his front. He gets his arm firmly around the kid's waist and holds him in place.
"You're not after the kid, are you?" Because if he is, Mando will start blasting with extreme prejudice.
"Why- why would I be after your kid?" Riz is baffled at that question, ears flicking up a bit -- half confusion, half curiosity. Why would Riz, a kid himself, be after some other kid? And if he was, why would he stow away in a ship where there is no way of escaping with said kid? Then again, parents do tend to get a little overprotective of their children. Perhaps it's just a good old parental paranoia?
Unless...
Unless this guy has reason to think someone will be coming after the child. Genuine reason. A reason that would explain why a man who is definitely not a goblin is travelling with a child that looks to be one.
Riz's brows furrow, peering suspiciously at the stranger. "Did you kidnap him?"
Probably it's not wise to start accusing this guy of criminal activity. At the very least it won't help Riz's chances of not getting tossed out of an airlock for stowing away. But at the same time, if that is what is going on here, Riz can't just ignore that, right?
That reaction seems genuine enough, like the guy in the vents doesn't realise what the kid is or what he can do. It doesn't make Mando relax, but it does ease a bit of his tension. If this guy was after the kid, out the airlock he'd go, no further questions asked.
But this isn't the former Empire's style. They'd be more likely to send a team of assassin droids after Mando, not some guy hiding in a vent.
As to kidnapping, Mando is just going to ignore that question. The answer is technically yes, but he was certainly the better of the kid's options. The kid seems happy enough with him, and he definitely wasn't happy before. Kidnapping with good intentions? Is that a thing?
Mando gestures with his blaster. "Out of the vent. Keep your hands where I can see them."
The kid chirps in his arms, pleased by this turn of events. Yay, new friend!
Riz really doesn't have any other options here but to comply with the demand. He can't exactly hide deeper in the vent --eventually, he'll just be cornered against the engine-- and attacking the guy in front of him when he doesn't even have the element of surprise seems like a fool's errand too. He doesn't exactly want to end up as a green smear against the grey steel of the hull.
So Riz slowly shuffles forward, trying to telegraph his every move in such a way that the guy in front of him won't think he's trying to pull something. From the vent, he drops to the ground in a practised move, landing with the soft sort of thud that could go unnoticed on a busy spaceship. He then rises to his full length -- a fairly unimpressive 3'7" -- craning his head back so he can keep looking the guy in the... visor? He's still holding his blaster, because he has absolutely no intention of handing over something so personal, but he keeps it low and pointed to the ground, finger away from the trigger.
"Listen, all I want is to get where you are going. I have no interest in you or your--" Riz glances at the squirming child. "--son."
"He's not my son." The denial comes out automatically, even as the kid settles in against Mando's chest. "We're just traveling together."
With the guy in full view, Mando is less worried. He's another kid--a slightly older one, but still a kid--and Mando really doubts he could take out a fully grown Mandalorian. Not with that little peashooter he's got in his hand.
With a sigh, Mando sheathes his own blaster. "You could have just asked, if that's all you want."
Or offered him a couple of credits! Mando isn't opposed to playing taxi, if the price is right.
Riz watches the child snuggle into the guy's chest --which should be comfortable at all, considering the heavy layer of armour he wears-- and raises a pointed brow.
"Right. Sure."
Has anyone told the kid that this guy isn't his dad, cause he sure seems to think he is.
"Most people don't respond well to just being asked by a guy with no credits. And then they are on the lookout for me."
It is not strictly true. Riz does have a few credits, secreted away in hidden pockets on his person. But those few credits don't stretch far, and Riz prefers saving them to pay for the things he'd feel bad taking without payment. He doesn't want to steal food from a poor stall owner --though he might make an exception for a particularly wealthy or asshole-ish one-- but him stowing away onboard a ship is essentially a victimless crime. The ship is going there anyway, right? And the presence of one little goblin doesn't create any added costs.
You don't know, Riz! Beskar could be super cozy and comfortable!
(It's not, but that's beside the point.)
Mando sighs; he expected the kid to be broke, if he's going around being a stowaway, but now he's got confirmation. Why does he keep attracting the hard luck cases lately?
"You're not going to cause me or the kid any trouble, right?" He gestures at a bench in the corner of the cargo hold. "You're going to sit over there and keep quiet and not touch anything until we get to (undisclosed Star Wars planet). Then you're on your own."
"You weren't supposed to notice me being here in the first place, so yeah, I'll be quiet."
With the situation deescalating like this, Riz finally (though with some reluctance) slips his blaster back into its holster. He really wishes he could keep holding it, but he doesn't want this guy to rethink his decision to let Riz stay aboard. Putting away his weapon is a sign of good faith, right?
There we go, we're all friends here! Or at least not ready to blast each other to oblivion at a moment's notice.
Mando starts to head back to the cockpit, perfectly willing to ignore his stowaway until they get to where they're going, but then the kid starts squeaking and struggling in his arms.
"Hey, calm down."
But no, the kid will not be contained. With a sudden surge of tiny strength--and possibly the use of his mind--the kid springs out of Mando's arms and hits the floor. Without any hesitation, he goes scuttling over towards the stowaway, little arms raised and waving.
Riz starts a little when the little tyke starts scuttling towards him, unsure of what to do. He sure hopes the tall guy isn't going to go all papa bear on him for being this close to his little ward.
"Oh. Uh. Hey?"
If it sounds awkward, it is because Riz is pretty awkward around, well, people in general, but especially kids. He hasn't really had the opportunity to hang out with other kids since he was nine, and even before that he had always been a little out of step with them.
This close to him, Riz can pick out a few more details about the kid -- his eyes are large like those of a Goblin but lack the slit pupils. His teeth look about right though, from what Riz can see when the kid opens his mouth to squeak. Most of the rest of the kid is hidden by the roomy clothing he is wearing, though Riz does manage to catch a glance at his hands --too few fingers to be a Goblin's hand, but still with pointed little claws-- as they shoot forward and close on the bristly end of Riz's tail.
"Oh! Oh hey! No, no no no, you can't eat that."
Riz might not be very familiar with other kids, but he can recognise that little glint in the kid's eyes as he opens his mouth.
Mando isn't terribly worried about the kid approaching the stowaway. He's seen what the kid can do when he's threatened, and if there's any trouble, Mando will be his backup. When the two of them are close together, though, he notices all the similarities too.
"Kid, don't bite him."
Mando steps forward and scoops the kid back up, brushing the stowaway's tail out of his hands. Then he looks back and forth between them, tilting his head to one side.
Riz quickly pulls his tail back, and he's inspecting the end closely when the stranger's question comes. He's frowning, though it's not at being asked what he is. Rather it's the fact that this guy is travelling with this kid but somehow doesn't know what he is. It makes him look rather suspicious in Riz's eyes. He can think of several ways someone can end up taking care of a kid and not know what they are, but many of them are not exactly above board.
"You're the first one I've seen that looks anything like him."
Mando is seeing the differences now, like the tail the stowaway is so carefully examining. The point still stands that this guy looks more like the kid than anyone else Mando has ever met, and maybe there might be a lead here.
The suspicion on Riz's face wavers and makes room for concern -- a young kid separated from and searching for their family; it all hits a bit too close to home.
"I'm a Goblin. We're from the planet Ghuk in the Ghuklian system." A small and rather backwater place, Riz is absolutely not surprised that this stranger has never heard of it. Even before the Empire had invaded, it had never been a centre of commerce or great importance. "I don't know what your kid is. He's definitely not a Goblin, but there were several inhabited planets in our system with different Goblinoids. He might... he might be one of those?"
The kid in question is getting tired of being held, and squirms in Mando's arms. Mando gestures to the stowaway, motioning towards a nearby ledge that serves as a table.
"I'm going to put him down. You should get up high where he can't reach."
Mando recognises the gleam in the kid's eyes. That the Mischief Gleam, and no tail is safe right now.
"Do you have the coordinates for your system?" If the stowaway does, that's worth the price of a ride to the next planet, as far as Mando is concerned. Hell, he might even throw in a meal and a blanket for the guy to sleep on.
Riz had been about to let go off his tail, but with the little guy back on the floor, he quickly changes his mind. He doesn't immediately go for the high ledge though, but that is mostly because the stranger's next question pulls his attention away from the small danger.
He's trying to keep his face steady, but there is a pain in his eyes and a tightness to his voice as he answers. "Yeah, but... you won't find anything there. Not... not after the Empire."
Of all the dangers in this starship, the kid is the least of them. Or maybe the greatest. It's hard to tell, sometimes.
"Ah." No further explanation necessary! Mando is disappointed, though; that was the first possible lead he'd heard, short of finding a Jedi who survived the Empire somewhere in the universe.
"My world, too." He gestures at the kid, who has toddled over to Riz and is stretching upwards towards him. "And his."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Fake Dating / Spy
no subject
With an almost feral pleasure, Riz hunts down a small picture of Fabian and pins it onto his case board. For a moment he allows his claws to brush over it where it sits, pinned right next to a picture of the mansion, the scrap of paper detailing the planned birthday celebration of the mansion's owner and a small newspaper photo of his target himself, before he turns sharply on his heel, his tail flicking wildly as he grabs his coat and sets out for Seacaster Manor.
Scaling the side of Seacaster Manor up to Fabian's bedroom window is as easy as breathing. His claws effortlessly find the various little handholds and imperfections in the old wood and the window sill is perfectly sized for one small goblin to pull himself up onto as he shakes his thieves tools out of his cuff. The fact that Fabian had never bothered to make it any harder for him to get inside is all the proof Riz needs that he doesn't actually mind these little visits.
Before too long, the window's lock gives with a soft little click, and Riz slips into the room. For a moment he just stands there, rubbing one hand over his stubbly cheek as he surveys the room with his dark-vision. And when he spots Fabian's silver --just grey now, in the monochrome wash of the dark-- head of hair among the ludicrously soft elven sheets in his ridiculously vast bed, he steps forwards, an excited grin on his face.
"Fabian," he whisper-shouts in a voice raspy from lack of use and with a slightly manic edge to it. "Fabian, wake up, I need you to take me on a date."
no subject
Fabian does leave his windows accessible to simple lockpicking, though sometimes he forgets it's for his friends more than being just being too lazy and confident to lock them properly; sometimes one just needs the breeze, to lie back and hear the creak of that old ship's hull and to think about a voyage on the sea without actually being on that godforsaken desert of water. And at this point he's fairly confident he could challenge anyone who could steal into his room at night.
Which is why the half-elf, snorfling awake, immediately begins to go for the blade displayed on the headboard, other hand grasping the ludicrously soft sheets up to his chest like he has anything to hide. He's wearing a singlet and boxers. He looks like some sort of silver revenant, half-lurching to his own defense.
"Riz?" He must truly be half-conscious, going for the goblin's name rather than his moniker. The sword falls to his side, slicing a line gently into the comforter."Da- Hwhat--?"
The half-elf lets go the sheets in order to rub some sleep out of his good eye, though he blinks at the goblin groggily. He is absolutely pouting.
no subject
Riz steps closer to the bed, not even bothered by the sword. His hands move in sharp little jabs of excitement as he talks. It's not even something he's realising he is doing, but just his body trying desperately to burn off the excess energy that comes from having a breakthrough on his case.
"I said I need you to take me on a date. I have-- I really should've thought of you sooner. You are perfect for this. I already know we work well together and-- we'll need to prepare of course. Clothes and an invite, but I don't think those should be a problem for you at all--"
He's rambling, his mind quickly jumping from one topic to the next, trying to tell Fabian everything at once.
no subject
Is he literally having a nightmare right now? Can't be.
Riz is always slipping down his body in those, telling him what a good boy he is with that tail lashing behind, getting ready to do something even more awful.Riz is being too manic for his brain and somehow this translates as a reality for him."I--" Fabian drops the blade in favor of surging across his bed. He'll grab Riz up by the collar if he can manage to.
"The Ball, please. The birds aren't even awake yet."
And Fabian is already tossing part of his ridiculous, luxurious sheets across Riz. Did Riz just tell him he needs to be his date? Yep. Fabian's just gonna try to burrito the goblin up in some of his best fabric in hopes this is just some temporary, pot-shot ploy. After years, he knows his friend can have some pot-shot plans. He'll maybe entertain, or at least respond to them, at a decent hour or/if Riz gets some sleep. Fabian's also willing to flop right across the goblin if he's still being unruly. ]
no subject
Soon enough he's been turned into a burrito (a burrizzo, a small manic voice inside his own brain that sounds suspiciously like Kristen points out) and he can do nothing more but blink owlishly from between the oh-so-soft blankets. His traitorous body, whose desperate pleas for sleep Riz has been ignoring for the last twelve hours or so, relaxes helplessly into the soft, warm cocoon even as Riz tries to fight it.
"No, no, I still have to tell you about our--" interrupted by a yawn that Riz unsuccessfully tries to squash, "our mhmm cover stories and--"
no subject
"Tomorrow." He grumbles, squeezing the other in the sheets like some sort of silken threat. "As in the sun is up. I won't hear it now."
That said, he faceplants into the sheets somewhere between Riz's shoulders. Perhaps there's something to be said for the stubbornness of elves, the rich, or simply Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He's just going to lock down for the night, and in the morning, there's Catilda slipping in to quietly check on the progress of the shoe collection. She might usually do the work of a fairy cobbler in the night, but it's obvious what's needed this morning is a little trolley of breakfast things. Naturally, Fabian is waking up and leaning into the potent smell of lox on toast, rolling onto Riz in the process.
no subject
Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Call the press, the boy is actually asleep.
He sleeps through the sunrise (which is when Fabian technically gave him permission to tell him about his brilliant scheme), Cathilda bustling around Fabian's room (She is supposed to be a fighter, but man, she must have taken about ten levels of rogue too because she is quiet) but what he can't sleep through is suddenly being rolled on top of by a giant lug.
Riz snaps awake, his brain too hazy and confused to immediately make sense of his situation. All it knows is that there's suddenly a heavy weight on top of him, and his hands are pinned to his body by the sheets and, fuck, he must be under attack. He was stupid and fell asleep and someone (something) came for him.
no subject
"RIZ???" He thought he dreamed you, bro! The packaging the goblin is in probably actually saves him from getting shot.
no subject
Fabian's voice breaks through the budding, building, cresting panic, disrupting his spiralling thoughts (he got caught, he fucked up, he's going to die, again, because he fucked up and--) for a more sensible part of Riz's mind to take stock and inventory of the situation and the sparse memories he has of last night.
Right. Right, this is Fabian's room. This is Fabian's bed. He recalls breaking in her last night to tell Fabian about his breakthrough and--
Right. Okay. He's fine. He's in Fabian's bed and he's fine.
His heart still hammers in his chest as the panic starts to ebb away and Riz starts squirming in his cocoon of sheets, his ears pinned flat to his head. Normally he doesn't mind it too much when Fabian wraps him up in his sheets. Like. Fabian saved his life that way once. It's kind of a bad look for him to mind it at all. But right now, the constricting fabric pinning his limbs against him is pinging all the panicky parts of his brain that are on a hair trigger to start firing again.
"Fabian, get me out of here."
no subject
Anyway, the half-elf helps release the goblin with one hand, shucking aside sheets and pushing Riz to roll ( gently, perhaps surprisingly ) until his cocoon became loose enough that the goblin could wriggle free if he really wanted to. He will probably do just that, but in the case that he doesn't, Fabian will continue to unwind him.
The other hand is serving breakfast into the young master of the house's mouth in small bites between rolls. The scent of coffee and tea pervades the area. Cathilda is Cathilda... so of course there are good munchies for the guest along with the coffee if he wants them.
"Sooo... What the fuck?" Like they didn't just technically spoon all night.
no subject
Riz wriggles free as soon as he can, sitting up to rub his hands over his face for a moment and then through his hair. Which, ew, greasy. And the fact that he can't remember when he took a shower last is probably a good indication that he's long overdue for one.
He's soon distracted from the sorry, janky state of his body by the smell of coffee though, and he quickly helps himself to a big mug of it. He's not ignoring the food, merely prioritising his one true love over it for the moment. Coffee first, food second. That's truly the Gukgak way.
"Right." He takes a sip of coffee, not even caring if it scalds his tongue just a little. He's shifting back into Case Mode. "I need you to take me to a party as a date."
no subject
"So that wasn't a dream..." He muses and also says nothing about that implication. Amazingly, since they've graduated, Fabian rarely yells his confusion. He just pinches his brow between thumb and forefinger.
"Why?" It's Riz. Fabian understands this can't be for shits and giggles.
no subject
Ultimately he dismisses the thought mainly because Fabian's bed is nice and soft, and the cup of coffee between his hands is hot and delicious.
"So, I've been working on a case -- embezzlement and fraud. I was hired by one of the victims who lost a lot of money to the guy responsible. And they aren't the only one. This guy is good. Horrible person, obviously, but good at what he does, so it's been hell trying to find the proof needed to take him down. He's got enough people in his pocket that you can't really get anything done through the legal channels, cause when you try, the people who are supposed to investigate and deal with this stuff just shut it down." Idly, he starts clacking his claws lightly against the mug he is holding. "I've narrowed down where he keeps his financial records -- all the stuff I need to take him down -- but I can't get to it. He's got his place locked down like a fortress. All the best wards and tech to keep people out. Even I can't get in it. Or, at least, I can't get in and out with the data without getting caught."
Riz knows he is a good rogue, but even for a good rogue without back-up, there is limits to just how sneaky you can get.
"But, that's where you come in."
Riz gives Fabian a momentary grin, all sharp teeth and glinting eyes.
"Next week, my target is throwing a birthday party at his place, one of those big rich people ones where everybody who is someone is invited. Normally I'd try to get in my way -- you know, sneak myself into his staff and carry out the job that way, but uh, the guy really doesn't like goblins. Wouldn't ever trust one on his staff." Riz shrugs for a moment. "Turns out the fraudulent, embezzling shithead is also a racist shithead. What else is new, right?"
"But you, you are Fabian Aramais Seacaster." For a moment, grinning cheekily as he does so, Riz mimics the pompous tone Fabian used to use to introduce himself to people, gesturing with his cup of coffee and nearly slopping some onto Fabian's sheets. "Nobody would say no to you if you wanted to show up to some fancy party. I bet you could get an invite for yourself and a date before the end of the day if you tried."
"The date would be me, obviously. He can keep Goblins off his staff, but he can't turn away a guest without making some huge fuss. You get me in, I do my thing, and we get out nobody the wiser." Riz takes a slurping sip of his coffee, until he seems to think of something, adding a quick: "I mean, you aren't dating anyone right now, right? You haven't told me if you are, but it's just for the one night so I figured it would be okay." His ears flick, flattening a little. "And, to be honest, I've been breaking my head over this for the last two days, and I haven't been able to come up with any other solution."
no subject
There's no denying how Fabian swells a little at being validated through his status, the smirk growing ever larger around the toast, his manner becoming more fluid and relaxed with the swell of confidence. He's basically flopped onto his back with the tray on his chest when Riz ends his diatribe, sipping tea. It could be this breakfast in bed, or maybe Fabian's particularly amenable to suggestion this close to being woken up. Either way, he's just going to give a blink and a furrow of his brow.
"I get my kisses in!" He'll insist, because somehow this insinuation about being single seems loaded when it comes from Riz. Look. He's just keeping himself open ( after a couple failures to launch, we'll be honest )! His own work right now is better if he stays that way. And what Riz is asking of him? That's not too far from what he's keeping himself entertained with these days, honestly.
"Okay, The Ball. I get where you're coming from, but you're not..."
Ragh Barkrock is one of Fabian's very best friends, Fig is engaged to Ada at this point
(if not already married, we assume), and Kristin is married to Tracker so he's not about to freak out at the concept of a gay relationship. But:"Interested like that. I mean that's never been you." He swipes a napkin from the tray nearby, dabbing his mouth before delicately sweeping crumbs into it. "Why wouldn't you want to be my bastard of a brother instead? My father's ehm... charmed many a woman in his time."
Which, oops, brings back the memory of a certain mindflayer claiming to have gobbled them up... Nevermind, though.
no subject
He leaves the comment on his sexuality (or lack thereof) for what it is. It's not that he has any particular problems talking about it to Fabian, it's more of an... everybody thing.
When he was younger, it was a topic he had avoided because of how messy and uncomfortable it was -- not knowing or understanding part of himself had been a death knell for Riz, and while he is very happy for his friends who can talk through those subjects with others to come to a conclusion, that had never been him.
(probably also why, despite a few gentle suggestions, therapy also had never been a Riz thing)
Nowadays, it is something he has mostly sorted out for himself. Asexual, because that interest had never really developed at all (not even when he had gotten to what would've been his junior year in college, which is when his dad said everything had sorted into place for him), but perhaps not wholly aromantic (not that he has any experience with it, but the concept of it is not something entirely out of the realm he could see himself engaging in and enjoying).
But it is something he has ever really brought up with his friends when he had finally figured it out. Not that he is even worried for a single moment that they would judge him! He's just fairly certain none of them would ever be interested in dating him (really, who would date a twitchy little goblin who isn't even interested in... in half of what makes dating interesting to most people?) so it felt like superfluous information in the same way he doesn't talk about his underwear size.
(XXS, for the curious.)
For Poppy
Of course, when you are Riz Gukgak, most things either start with a case, involve a case, or get turned into a case somewhere along the line, but anyway--
Five days ago, Mrs Pebbleshine (Halfling, middle-aged, clutching a giant purse to her chest like a shield) had walked into his office, asking him to investigate whether or not her husband was having an affair. It was not the sort of case Riz enjoyed taking, but a job was a job and Mrs Pebbleshine had reminded him somewhat of Mrs Luckstone and anyway, money to cover his office rent did not grow on trees.
Riz hadn't expected it to be a difficult case; these sort of cases usually weren't. He'd tail Mr Pebbleshine for a few days with his camera, which was generally enough to answer the question of whether or not he was stepping out on his wife with another woman (or man, or person of undetermined gender) and afterwards he'd report the results to Mrs Pebbleshine. Simple and neat. For him at least; Mrs Pebbleshine might need to deal with the reality of her marriage breaking down and her husband's infidelity, but Riz was a detective, not a marriage counsellor.
(Though he could probably ask Jawbone about a referral to one of those? It would be an exceedingly weird conversation to have, with a veritable minefield of Jawbone's very graphic, far too informational anecdotes lurking underneath the surface, but maybe it would help Mrs Pebbleshine a bit?)
In any case, for the first few days, it had all gone pretty simple and neat. Mr Pebbleshine was on the move a lot, moving smoothly between a seemingly endless circle of acquaintances, having lunches and dinners like he was singlehandedly trying to keep Elmville's restaurant industry afloat. Really, Riz could kinda see how Mrs Pebbleshine had gotten the impression her husband was having an affair. He certainly was spending most of his time outside of the home, but so far, Riz had not been able to catch him in any meeting that wasn't aboveboard. The only thing that got exchanged were firm handshakes.
That all had changed when last night, Mr Pebbleshine had gone to a hotel. It was the sort of hotel that wasn't quite seedy, but wasn't quite on the up and up either; the sort of place that got paid for in cash more than anything else and where the staff were very good at not seeing a thing. Riz had really expected this to be it, that he'd be snapping a few pictures of Mr Pebbleshine and his mysterious date (Clean ones, of course! Nothing gross) and he'd be able to wrap this case up in the morning and deliver the results to Mrs Pebbleshine.
But it turned out Mr Pebbleshine (also halfling, middle-aged, with a jovial moustache and rosey cheeks) was not having an affair at all. He wasn't two-timing on his wife, exchanging kisses with some young secretary or pool boy. The only thing Mr Pebbleshine was exchanging was vast amounts of illegal cash.
Mr Pebbleshine was running an illegal gambling ring.
And suddenly, things were very interesting indeed.
Now, hours(?) later, Riz is hunched over his desk, furiously scribbling down his thoughts as they come. The light that slants through his office blinds had gone from dark, to bright, to the dim of dusk again, making its unnoticed journey across the floorboards of Riz's office as Riz had worked on the conspiracy board taking shape behind him. The web around Mr Pebbleshine was slowly taking shape, but Riz would have to go over all the people he had met with over the last few days to see where they fitted into this case. Some would undoubtedly be innocent, but others--
Pausing, Riz reaches for his mug to take a sip of-- oh, empty.
For a moment Riz just stares at the empty mug, debating whether he has sunk low enough yet to just lick the dredges off the inside of the cup, before he resolutely sets it down again. It's fine. He's a proper detective. He doesn't need coffee. He can do this without.
He could, of course, make new coffee, but the machine is all away across the room, and the case is taking shape between his hands, thumbtacks and red string plotting out connections and relationships, and well... at least he won't have to tell Mrs Pebbleshine her husband is having an affair.
Of course, the news that he is a criminal probably won't be much better.
(Unless she is in on it of course, which... huh. Better add her to the board too. Just in case)
Star Wars AU - Trystan
Normally when he stows away, Riz chooses freighters or large passenger vessels -- the sort of ships where it is easy for one small Goblin to find a hideyhole for the duration of the trip. But he's been waiting for several standard weeks now for a ship, any ship heading off this planet and towards his intended destination, the information on his mother's possible whereabouts burning a metaphorical hole in his pocket, and fuck it, this will have to do.
Getting onto the ship is fairly easy. It's an old gunship, pre-Empire even, and the security on its doors does not stand up to the techniques Kalina taught him. All he has to do is wait for the ship's owner --a strange, helmet-wearing man-- to leave, before he darts out from the hangar's shadows, lifting a small panel off the ship's hull and connecting a few wires to bypass the door's lock.
Once he's inside, and after he's restored the panel -- "Sloppiness gets you killed in our line of business, kid." -- its time to focus on finding a place to hide. The cockpit is out, of course. Too small and too populated during flight. Ordinarily, he prefers cargo holds but it looks like on this ship the main living area and hold are intermingled, leaving few good hiding spots. In the end, it's a small vent that catches Riz's eye. It's a tight fit, even for him, but if everything goes well, this shouldn't be a long trip.
And if things don't go well... well, it'll also be a short trip.
no subject
Hell, he doesn't even have full beskar yet. Another mission or two and he should be able to afford the last piece. Until then, he'll keep wearing imitation beskar on his thigh and hope no one aims there.
And then there's the kid. What's he going to do with the little monster?
One thing at a time. They're refueled and resupplied, and Mando can breathe a little easier with that. Next thing to do is figure out where the kid's people are, so he can deliver him to them. And probably pick up a bounty or two along the way, because hey, if he's flying in that direction anyway, might as well make some credits while he's at it.
The Razor Crest takes off without any issues, and Mando keeps the kid in the cockpit with him. He could put the kid in the closet in the hold again, but he's finding he kind of likes the company. Even if the kid can't talk, it's nice having someone to talk to... even if that usually involves telling him not to tear apart the ship.
"No." The kid is going after the gear shift again, fascinated by the ball on its end. "No, that's not for you. Leave it alone."
no subject
It is almost... comforting.
Before take-off, there is room for second-guessing -- for wondering if he has chosen the right ship, if he was spotted coming aboard, if he should abandon the attempt and find a different ship instead. But once they are up in the air, there is no sense in thinking about that. He has to commit to this course of action now.
With the engine running, Riz can feel warm air brushing past him. This vent must be part of the system that regulates the hold temperature with residual heat from the engine. Well, he thinks to himself as he settles in for the long haul, trying to get as comfortable as he can in the limited space, at least he won't be cold on this trip.
gasp, I almost wrote warp drive instead of hyperspace
"What?"
There's only so much entertaining Mando can do before they enter hyperspace. Once they do, though, he puts the ship into autopilot and stands up.
"Are you hungry?" The kid is acting like he's maybe hungry? Or just bored? Who the hell knows? Mando scoops him up and carries him into the hold.
It must be the right choice, because the kid coos and starts reaching excitedly for the ceiling.
"What? There's nothing up there, just some vents." To demonstrate, Mando reaches up and thumps one of the vents blowing warm air into the hold.
Ejected from the whole fandom!!
No, this must be routine for this stranger. Perhaps he just needs the vacc tube or plans to sleep while the ship travels through hyperspace.
It's at this time that Riz first catches sight of the man's little companion --he knew there was one, had heard him talking to someone, though so far they had been out of sight-- and the sight surprises him so much --a goblin? here?-- that he forgets to bite down on a small noise of surprise when the man bangs on the grate in front of him.
He stuffs his fingers into his mouth immediately afterwards, but the damage has been done. All he can hope is that his little squeak of surprise was lost in the noise or that the man chalks it up to his little companion.
crossing the Stars fandom streams!
And then there's someone in the vent.
Mando's reaction is instantaneous: he shifts the kid to the back of his hip, so he's behind two layers of beskar and many pounds of Mandalorian. At the same time, his free hand yanks his blaster out of its holster and points at the thing in the vent.
He almost fires. But then he sees the thing's face, and it looks like an older version of the kid, and he hesitates.
"What are you doing on my ship?"
The kid wriggles behind him, peeking out from over Mando's hip and squeaking cheerfully at the thing in the vents.
no subject
The stranger isn't the only one going for his blaster; even within the confines of the vent, Riz manages to grab the small, black blaster at his hip --the one that has been sized to perfectly fit into a goblin's hands, the one that had once belonged to his father-- only afterwards thinking that perhaps making himself seem even more dangerous isn't the wisest course of action here.
Though it pains him to do so, he lowers his blaster, his tail lashing and thumping against the inside of the vent behind him. "I just-- I needed to get off that planet. You weren't supposed to see me."
no subject
When the guy in the vents lowers his own blaster, Mando lowers his too. Just a fraction, easily able to get it back up and into the stranger's face, but he's not going to fire on someone who isn't making themselves a threat. Even if he did stowaway on Mando's ship.
"Lots of ships going off-world. Why mine?"
The kid chooses that exact moment to squeak loudly and make a lunge towards the vent, and Mando is forced to shift him around to his front. He gets his arm firmly around the kid's waist and holds him in place.
"You're not after the kid, are you?" Because if he is, Mando will start blasting with extreme prejudice.
no subject
Unless...
Unless this guy has reason to think someone will be coming after the child. Genuine reason. A reason that would explain why a man who is definitely not a goblin is travelling with a child that looks to be one.
Riz's brows furrow, peering suspiciously at the stranger. "Did you kidnap him?"
Probably it's not wise to start accusing this guy of criminal activity. At the very least it won't help Riz's chances of not getting tossed out of an airlock for stowing away. But at the same time, if that is what is going on here, Riz can't just ignore that, right?
no subject
But this isn't the former Empire's style. They'd be more likely to send a team of assassin droids after Mando, not some guy hiding in a vent.
As to kidnapping, Mando is just going to ignore that question. The answer is technically yes, but he was certainly the better of the kid's options. The kid seems happy enough with him, and he definitely wasn't happy before. Kidnapping with good intentions? Is that a thing?
Mando gestures with his blaster. "Out of the vent. Keep your hands where I can see them."
The kid chirps in his arms, pleased by this turn of events. Yay, new friend!
no subject
So Riz slowly shuffles forward, trying to telegraph his every move in such a way that the guy in front of him won't think he's trying to pull something. From the vent, he drops to the ground in a practised move, landing with the soft sort of thud that could go unnoticed on a busy spaceship. He then rises to his full length -- a fairly unimpressive 3'7" -- craning his head back so he can keep looking the guy in the... visor? He's still holding his blaster, because he has absolutely no intention of handing over something so personal, but he keeps it low and pointed to the ground, finger away from the trigger.
"Listen, all I want is to get where you are going. I have no interest in you or your--" Riz glances at the squirming child. "--son."
no subject
With the guy in full view, Mando is less worried. He's another kid--a slightly older one, but still a kid--and Mando really doubts he could take out a fully grown Mandalorian. Not with that little peashooter he's got in his hand.
With a sigh, Mando sheathes his own blaster. "You could have just asked, if that's all you want."
Or offered him a couple of credits! Mando isn't opposed to playing taxi, if the price is right.
no subject
"Right. Sure."
Has anyone told the kid that this guy isn't his dad, cause he sure seems to think he is.
"Most people don't respond well to just being asked by a guy with no credits. And then they are on the lookout for me."
It is not strictly true. Riz does have a few credits, secreted away in hidden pockets on his person. But those few credits don't stretch far, and Riz prefers saving them to pay for the things he'd feel bad taking without payment. He doesn't want to steal food from a poor stall owner --though he might make an exception for a particularly wealthy or asshole-ish one-- but him stowing away onboard a ship is essentially a victimless crime. The ship is going there anyway, right? And the presence of one little goblin doesn't create any added costs.
no subject
(It's not, but that's beside the point.)
Mando sighs; he expected the kid to be broke, if he's going around being a stowaway, but now he's got confirmation. Why does he keep attracting the hard luck cases lately?
"You're not going to cause me or the kid any trouble, right?" He gestures at a bench in the corner of the cargo hold. "You're going to sit over there and keep quiet and not touch anything until we get to (undisclosed Star Wars planet). Then you're on your own."
no subject
With the situation deescalating like this, Riz finally (though with some reluctance) slips his blaster back into its holster. He really wishes he could keep holding it, but he doesn't want this guy to rethink his decision to let Riz stay aboard. Putting away his weapon is a sign of good faith, right?
no subject
Mando starts to head back to the cockpit, perfectly willing to ignore his stowaway until they get to where they're going, but then the kid starts squeaking and struggling in his arms.
"Hey, calm down."
But no, the kid will not be contained. With a sudden surge of tiny strength--and possibly the use of his mind--the kid springs out of Mando's arms and hits the floor. Without any hesitation, he goes scuttling over towards the stowaway, little arms raised and waving.
no subject
Riz starts a little when the little tyke starts scuttling towards him, unsure of what to do. He sure hopes the tall guy isn't going to go all papa bear on him for being this close to his little ward.
"Oh. Uh. Hey?"
If it sounds awkward, it is because Riz is pretty awkward around, well, people in general, but especially kids. He hasn't really had the opportunity to hang out with other kids since he was nine, and even before that he had always been a little out of step with them.
This close to him, Riz can pick out a few more details about the kid -- his eyes are large like those of a Goblin but lack the slit pupils. His teeth look about right though, from what Riz can see when the kid opens his mouth to squeak. Most of the rest of the kid is hidden by the roomy clothing he is wearing, though Riz does manage to catch a glance at his hands --too few fingers to be a Goblin's hand, but still with pointed little claws-- as they shoot forward and close on the bristly end of Riz's tail.
"Oh! Oh hey! No, no no no, you can't eat that."
Riz might not be very familiar with other kids, but he can recognise that little glint in the kid's eyes as he opens his mouth.
no subject
Mando isn't terribly worried about the kid approaching the stowaway. He's seen what the kid can do when he's threatened, and if there's any trouble, Mando will be his backup. When the two of them are close together, though, he notices all the similarities too.
"Kid, don't bite him."
Mando steps forward and scoops the kid back up, brushing the stowaway's tail out of his hands. Then he looks back and forth between them, tilting his head to one side.
"What are you, anyway? You look like the kid."
no subject
"Why do you want to know?"
no subject
Mando is seeing the differences now, like the tail the stowaway is so carefully examining. The point still stands that this guy looks more like the kid than anyone else Mando has ever met, and maybe there might be a lead here.
"I'm supposed to get the kid back to his people."
no subject
"I'm a Goblin. We're from the planet Ghuk in the Ghuklian system." A small and rather backwater place, Riz is absolutely not surprised that this stranger has never heard of it. Even before the Empire had invaded, it had never been a centre of commerce or great importance. "I don't know what your kid is. He's definitely not a Goblin, but there were several inhabited planets in our system with different Goblinoids. He might... he might be one of those?"
no subject
"I'm going to put him down. You should get up high where he can't reach."
Mando recognises the gleam in the kid's eyes. That the Mischief Gleam, and no tail is safe right now.
"Do you have the coordinates for your system?" If the stowaway does, that's worth the price of a ride to the next planet, as far as Mando is concerned. Hell, he might even throw in a meal and a blanket for the guy to sleep on.
no subject
He's trying to keep his face steady, but there is a pain in his eyes and a tightness to his voice as he answers. "Yeah, but... you won't find anything there. Not... not after the Empire."
no subject
"Ah." No further explanation necessary! Mando is disappointed, though; that was the first possible lead he'd heard, short of finding a Jedi who survived the Empire somewhere in the universe.
"My world, too." He gestures at the kid, who has toddled over to Riz and is stretching upwards towards him. "And his."
Fuck the Empire, man.