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Mikaela noted that the woman didn't seem very affected by her words. That was alright. She'd get under her skin somehow. And if not it wasn't like Mik had anything riding on this particular target. She just really hated losing.
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"28! My, he was a child." she wrinkled her nose. Sure, that was older than her, but in the past few years she'd grown used to people living longer. In her world only the truly tough people lived long enough to grow old, but in Canada she existed among more polite society. Suddenly the idea of a random 28 year old man dying seemed wrong. "Probably for the better." she decided. Even in a world filled with good, all it took was one slip to fall into the shadows. Life wasn't the place for the weak hearted.
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Mikaela had to wonder whether this supposed neighbor of hers was as innocent as she assumed. She hadn't heard of an Ivan Zwarny during her criminal years, but she knew there were a fair number of people in her building that went by fake names. She wasn't surprised that his name wasn't on the callbox.
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"Alright, well let's go inside." she said brightly, pulling out her key and unlocking the door. Thief was skittering around at her feet so she knelt down and picked him up before walking inside. "Zwarny doesn't sound familiar but it's a big building and I don't really do names anyway. No worries though, it shouldn't be that hard to track him down." After all, corpses were easier to find than living, breathing people who thought it would be fun to run instead. Like there was any point in that.
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Mikaela didn't actually have a plan to find the body. It would be simple if she just talked to her neighbors, she knew exactly which ones would know everyone in the building, but she didn't like the idea of owing them anything.

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Mikaela couldn't read Daichi. He clearly knew she was a manipulative liar, and yet he acted like she was nothing more than the naïve girl she presented herself as. It left her wondering whether he could see through her and was lying or he was just that dense. It was annoying.
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She was starting to get too honest, so she wiped away the retort she wanted to bite back with. She smiled up at him, releasing the fake anger she'd been holding onto. "Awe, that's adorable! You got scared and lashed out." She knelt down and put the gun back in its holster. "It's ok, cuciolo. I could have used some intel from him, but I'll forgive you."
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That horrible dryness was getting heavier, a sure sign that the phantom fire was getting closer. She couldn't tell exactly what was off about it, but it still wasn't normal. At some point while Touri tugged the corpse into what he thought would be its hiding spot, she decided she had to find her escape route before things really went south.
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She'd decided exactly where she wanted to go, but a certain idiot assassin had other plans. As she her muscles tightened so she could break into run, a strong hand gripped the sleeve of her dress and tugged her toward him sharply. "Cretino!" she cursed as she stumbled back and skidded to the ground. She would scold him for his stupidity, but her lungs were tightening and her eyes were stinging. It was too hot to breath with that fire right in front of her.
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She felt her dress loosen as he released her. He'd torn her damn sleeve! She huffed, knowing this would piss Libby off, and tore off the rest of the piece of fabric, pressing it over her nose and mouth. Then she kicked the corpse closer to the flames. Fire buried crimes as well as anything else and right now she just had to get out. She couldn't let herself worry about anything else. Daichi wasn't wrong when he'd claimed she had a death wish, but she'd promised Libby she'd stay at this party until midnight and she was pretty sure dying counted as ditching.
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A draft swept through the area, blowing smoke into Mikaela's face. She broke into a coughing fit and turned around, as though that'd keep her out of the direct line of smoke. Crimson eyes met Daichi's, though his face was a bit blurry. "Touri," she said slowly, trying to keep her voice clear despite how muddled her mind was getting. "Any other night I'd be happy to die, but get me out of here."

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Mikaela’s eyes flickered up at the boisterous display of arrogance. Is it now? The bet was too high and he was too confident. It would be irresponsible to lay down the next card, like if a stupid court let an obvious criminal go lose just because evidence was circumstantial. If he was going to cheat the least she could do was be subtle. It gave a bad name to the people who actually honed the cheating craft.
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She moved to deal the card then paused, eyes widening in a practiced display of surprise. "Oh my, this card appears to be marked." Her gaze flickered to the cheat for a moment to catch his reaction before returning to action. She motioned to a man at the edge of the room and slid the deck back into their box. It was a clear enough message to the staff, who had spent years silently communicating to cut down on time spent not dealing. "An accident, I’m sure, but it looks like I’ll have to get a new deck and redeal." There was a bit of grumbling around the table, but she ignored it as she collected the cards from the table.
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She returned them to the box as the man she’d motioned over appeared with a fresh deck. "Thank you, tesoro." She exchanged the old deck for the new one the man brought over with a small nod. "House policy, nothing I can do about it. My sincerest apologies." she added to the players with a warm smile. If anyone left the table for this stunt, suspicion of a cheat wouldn’t be enough to keep her out of trouble. Fortunately they all settled down quickly enough.
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"Feel free to change your bets." In a game where counting cards was so easy she expected a few players to lower their bets a bit, but anyone smart enough to count cards and track whether the deck was hot or cold would know that making a major change to their bet would be suspicious. She went about dutifully shuffling the deck, giving people plenty of time to mull over their new gambles.

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Mikaela Lye was never sure whether or not she liked her job. It was another role, another mask to wear in a world where she already had far too many names. While casinos weren’t illegal, they followed the same principles of any sort of organized crime she’d gotten into. A nocturnal sleep schedule, a sharp eye for sleight of hand, a smile and a lie to make people feel more welcomed and keep them playing her game. She’d seen both worlds destroy more people than she cared to count.
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In any world where people could be destroyed there were always snakes looking for a way to cheat the odds. It was just another part of the monstrous atmosphere created by the flowing exchange of large sums of money on the roll of a dice. In her eyes every card flipped was the same as making a deal with a man holding a gun, only much more dangerous. By labeling it ‘fun’ people managed to deceive themselves into thinking they were in less danger than they actually were. The world ran on money and giving it up meant giving up a natural power necessary to be considered on the same level as others.
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It was true that some people could navigate a gambling hall without losing their head, but they had a level of self control Mikaela would never bother matching unless there was a knife held to her neck. That was why she herself took the role of a silent observer, never putting her own head on the chopping block. She preferred to gamble with her life rather than her livelihood.
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So, silent as a phantom, she shuffled the cards and dealt out the next round of cards, keeping her movements slow enough not to rouse suspicion. Her boss always got mad when she did anything too frilly. It scared people off. If people were to suspect her sleight of hand was nearly as good as it was they might start thinking she’d sneak a few chips off the table too. She didn’t need to do that to get the casino a buttload of money. Her con was much more subtle than that, enticing people to stay at the table as long as she could so they would drop more money over time.
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One card down, one card up. Blackjack was a simple enough game to deal out and normally Mikaela would be starting to fall into a rhythm by now. The game had high enough stakes that some of the players had that look in their eye that told her their desperation was slowly tearing their sanity apart, but she always preferred games where players interacted with each other far more. Games of skill rather than luck. Games where players could purposely ruin others without anyone batting an eye. Even after years of watching them Mikaela was still fascinated.
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At this table there was one particular player that kept Mikaela’s attention hooked enough. She hadn’t seen anything definitive yet, but she’d caught sight of a few too many quick movements for her liking and she was pretty sure he was too far in the hole to keep gambling like he was for long. If he tried to leave the table she’d have to have someone else keep an eye on his actions, but for now he was in the perfect spot for her to observe him herself.
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At the moment her attention was supposed to be focused on the player before the potential cheater, but she kept him in her peripheral vision so she’d be able to notice any fast movements. It wasn’t a perfect solution but it would work. There was no need to trade out cards until he saw what he got from the deal anyway.
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"12 showing." she offered as the player took a particular long time to decide what to do. The man chewed on his lip for a moment before waving a hand over his cards. He probably had a three in the hole. That was her guess anyway. If she were him she’d get caught up on a score of 15, especially with the relatively low cards that had been played out earlier in the game. Not that he was supposed to be counting like she did. She offered a quick nod before moving on.
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"Hit or stay?" she drawled as she fixed her crimson eyes on the cheat, a small smile curving her lips. Now she could truly ensure he didn’t sneak anything up his sleeve.

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With Thief entertaining himself, Mikaela figured she only had to wait about ten minutes before she could return to her apartment and crawl back into bed. She wasn’t sure what her shift at the casino looked like, but it wouldn’t be pretty. It was nothing new to her. Even as a child she’d kept questionable hours. Her father had practically raised her on a nocturnal schedule, preparing her for a life in the shadows. There was nothing holding her to that life anymore, but she was as comforted by the shadows as she was afraid of them. She wouldn’t know what path to follow if she stepped into the light.
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Her silent musing was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from afar. She did her best not to look up. If it was a neighbor she had no interest in interacting and if it was anyone else they probably had other people they’d prefer to talk to. The footsteps came to a stop in front of her and she reluctantly slipped into an act. She offered a bright smile in response to the woman’s greeting.
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"Lost?" The word was warped by her accent, painted on a bit thicker than it had to be. She didn’t trust lost people, especially not when their wanderings brought them to her. It was far more likely she was seen as a target than a stranger that could give directions. There were too many people out for her head to trust coincidences like that. There was no reason to hastily make enemies of the locals, though. She may never consider herself Canadian, but the fact was that she’d be stuck here for a while longer.
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Mikaela’s gaze slipped past the wanderer as she picked up on a low growl coming from Thief. He never liked strangers so it was nothing new, but she didn’t want him to start up a barking fit. Catching Mikaela looking at him, the fox huffed and turned away, fixing his gaze on some imaginary prey.
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She returned her focus to the woman. If Thief wasn’t aggravated enough to bark it probably meant there wasn’t the scent of any of her former colleagues on her. While she didn’t completely trust her pet’s ability to sniff out any enemy, it was enough to allow this conversation to continue. "Alright. What is it you’re looking for, Wonda?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

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Hurt flashed in Mikaela’s eyes. She wasn’t sure whether it was because she still wanted to make Touri feel bad or the sting of the comment was genuinely shining through. It had to be the former. Showing true emotions like that was too much of a weakness, especially in a situation like this. Her father had made sure she’d never dare to slip up like that. But then her father had also tried to make sure she’d never run, yet here she was, far from home and relatively free.
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The words themselves weren’t what cut too deep. She wasn’t even sure what dispicable meant, but she was sure it was well deserved. What hurt was that he didn’t bat an eye at her comment. She hadn’t expected him to, it wasn’t like they were friends, but it still caught her off guard.
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Ignoring the underlying meaning of the emotion, she played into it. The potential to mess with Touri was just too delicious, and the best way to hide those bits of truth that slipped through was always by building them into a lie. "How can you think so little of me?" she asked in a shaky voice. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from the assassin, letting him play around in the mess of the murder without paying him much mind. "If that’s how it is…" If he’d claimed she was sulking before she definitely was now. She all but kicked at the ground as she walked.
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She wandered over to the discarded gun and picked it up. She didn’t need the weapon anymore and it being missing could draw more questions from his employers. The last thing she wanted when someone stumbled across this scene was questions. The only way she could be certain she was safe was if they took this to be a cut and dry case.
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Her gaze wandered back to Touri as he tried to tell her what to do. He didn’t seem at all weary around death, not that she’d expected him to be. "Why should I help you?" she asked, letting ruby eyes linger on him for a moment longer before indignantly averting them from the scene again. "You didn’t want to listen to me earlier. Meanwhile, you were acting on… what? Emotion? Pride? Anger? You didn’t have a right to any of those things, Enrico was a ghost from my past, not yours."
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Emotions. Mikaela was pretty sure anyone watching her would assume that was what she ran on. Touri didn’t know her well enough to see anything but a hypocrite scolding him now. She scowled, drawing back to a more personal argument. Her gaze returned to him and her brow furrowed as she recalled the specific act she was trying to pull.
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"Oh! But heaven forbid I have a plan. Sorry, I forgot you don’t think I can take care of myself! Clearly, I don’t know what’s good for me. Only a fool would think I could fight my own battles!" Sarcasm and anger dripped from her words and once again she wasn’t sure how much of it was true. The more childish he thought her to be, the better. She shouldn’t be calling him out on it. And yet with Touri it was harder to fully think through her arguments. It was because he was so dense. It grated her nerves.
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"It’s not like you’re so clever yourself. If you think death will ensure people keep your secrets, you may as well be a dead man walking." She pointed out. It was finally an argument she was happy with. She knew first hand how easy it was to get secrets out of the dead. That had been one of her father’s interrogation methods. If someone didn’t comply to torture letting them die and bringing them back so they thought they were given some silly second chance usually opened them up a bit It was easy enough as long as you had a proper necromancer on the team.
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Something in the air caught in Mikaela’s throat, a scent she very much didn’t like. Burning. Not the standard burning of a closed household flame, though. Whatever it was, it didn’t sit well with the nekomata. She brushed it off and glared at the assassin, but any argument faded from her and she kept her mouth shut.

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