Despite Izzy's sauntering, loping, ever confident gait, her ever present grin, and the non-chalance that she wore like a cloak, the fellblood was freakinnng ooout. Normally she had a lot more time on her hands than an hour and a half, but she had, at least, sussed out three individuals. Which was a relief. And also not a relief at all. That meant she had a one in three chance of being correct, and that would be based on information that would be slap-dash at best. It wasn't like she could read minds, dammit.

...Not yet, anyway.

But Zarius was counting on her to get him-- the both of them, really-- out of this situation. And so, self-assured Izzy eagerly walks up, rubbing her hands together with gleeful malice as she looks at the three surly looking Scorched ones. A human woman with a scar, a dwarven man with a maul, and the half-elf wearing a cloak. Not exactly fitting the profile, but then again, what was the profile at this point?

"I bring myself back around to the three the very good looking naga folk had so graciously announced-- thanks, doll-- and look over the perps. Suspicious, every single one." She leans her head down towards them a little more, grin flashing. To their credit, none of them flinch, even in the face of the woman who was trying very hard to be their doom. "'Y'know, this method of information gathering isn't my precise style', I say to the good lady holding the Dame hostage, giving her a grin as brilliant as I am, 'but for you, I will gladly make an exception~. Allllright.'" Izzy tilts her head from side to side, cracking her neck. Definitely not stalling. Not at all.

She runs through her usual plan of action quickly. How to get weeks worth of investiating into less than ninety minutes. First thing she would do would be to tail someone for a while, check out their usual routes, the places they visited, the people they spoke to.

Bit late for that.

Next, she'd follow them to those places and listen in on their conversations, see who else might be watching them.

That wouldn't apply here, either.

Then, once she had a set schedule for them, she would go and stake out where they....

The already mischevous smile on her face suddenly splits into a baleful grin as a torch ignites in her mind. Eureka.

She looks at each individual in turn, starting with the human woman. "So. Subject number one. Where do you live?"

"Docks district."

"Apartment, condo, former bait shack what kind of situation are we talking?" Izzy rolls her hand over, prompting.

The human woman squints a little. "...Just a room. I rent from an old lady."

"Mmhmm, mmmmhm," she nods distantly and then looks to the dwarvish man. "And you, good sir. Where abouts do you call home?"

The man scowls and looks over at his leader with a disgruntled look. "Do we seriously have to entertain this, Ma'am?"

Izzy suddenly bends down sharply, face nearly pressed against the dwarf, her eyes wide and her smile far,f ar too big. He takes a step back. "I'll be asking the questions here, I'll thank yooou kiiindlllyyy. Answer the question, please." Her grin sharpens at the edges.

He gives his boss another look, this one more disconcerted than disgruntled, and grumbles. "Uh. Apartment. By the market."

"Wiiiiith?"

The dwarvish man has the decency to blush, and clears his throat. "...My partner. His place."

"Awww, that's sweeeet." Izzy grins; she's being genuine, but she has to be a little shit about everything.

"Shove it."

"And last but not least." She looks to the half-elf, leaning toward them. "Where do you live."

They give Izzy an aloof stare, responding easily and confidently. "Housing district, third lane from the samosa place."

"Which one?"

"The good one."

"Mmmhmm." Izzy nods, like she knows the one. She did, to be fair. "And do you live with anyone?"

"My old lady. Had her come live with me after my dad died."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Izzy says breezily, "This way~." She walks toward one of the store room doors and in her hands, from a turn of her wrist, appears a key, walking across her knuckles.

"This is a bit brash for my tastes, buuut, desperate times, and all. Not for me, mind you, but y'know. The people want a show." She gestures with the key to the human woman, inviting her to step forward. "Come here and use this key to unlock that door."

She looks a little bewildered as she steps forward. "You want me to open the storeroom? This isn't even the key."

"Juuust humour a private investigator extraordinaire, will ya?" Izzy gestures to the door. The woman rolls her eyes and fits the key in the lock.[1]

"Fine, but I'm telling you, it won't op--" But open it does. And instead of opening to the storeroom, it opens to a modestly decorated bedroom colourful blankets draped over the window, a slight breeze from the sea ruffling the fabric. The woman stands there in shock, looking at her room. Her home. The woman's tabby cat looks up from the bed and puffs up a bit, alarmed.

"How...?"

"Sorry for spooking you, citizen," Izzy tips her imaginary hat to the kitty as she looks in. After a moment, she nods to herself, satisfied, and then closes the door, taking the key out of the lock. "Aight, you're clear. Mr. Lovebug, care to step forward?"

The dwarf looks wary now, especially after what he's just seen. He gives her a dissatisfied snarl, and approaches the door, snatching the key out of Izzy's hand. "Let's get this over with."

He puts the key in the lock. The door opens to a humble home, a living room that was stacked with old boxes of takeout, a second-hand dining set, and a lizardkin at the table, putting aside his glasses as he looks up with a smile. "Darling, I wasn't expecting you home until later-- what in the world?" he looked stunned, seeing a whole other world beyond what was normally the door to his apartment.

"Afternoon, Mr. Lovebug, I'm a Friend From Work, quick question, does your partner work for the guard?"

"...No? Adnan, what is going on?"

"Great, thanks, byeeee, dinner smells great, by the way." She shuts the door before the lizardkin could stand and stop her.

"And then there was one," she looks to the half-elf with a sly look. Beneath the surface though, she was nervous. She was zero for two, and there was only one suspect left. But the look on their face, the slight flare to their nostrils, the increased scowl... she had a good feeling, suddenly. "Care to step forward?"

The half-elf looks surly, rolling their tongue around their teeth before they step forward and take the key. They slowly turn the key in the lock, and then shoves Izzy aside, trying to sprint away, key in hand.

"Nope!" Izzy shouts, her grin widening in triumph. The whip[2] at her side lashes out, snapping with a viper's accuracy around his leg as Izzy yanks back. The half-elf tumbles to the ground with a yelp.

"Well, I think that's pretty damning all by itself, but juuuust to be suuuure," Izzy sing-songs as she pulls the cursing half-elf close again, hauling them up by their collar and putting her large, alabaster hand over theirs as she guides it to the lock, turning the key, and forcing them to open the door with their own hands.

The door opens to what is clearly a well decorated, windowless room. It's officious, the bed made in military style, and there's a large bag of solars sitting on a good quality writing desk-- a desk that has a name. An officer's quarters. Izzy steps in, snagging a jacket off one of the bed frames, and then slips back out, holding it up. The coat is emblazoned with the seal of the Corps. She holds it up to the half-elf, grinning, ever-so-smugly, from ear to ear. "I smell bacon~."

---

[1] House Key
[2] Hangman's Coil

There's actually a little applause from the rest of the goons when Issala solves the crime with plenty of time to spare. 

The woman looks genuinely surprised. "Well, that certainly was impressive work, Miss Arodre. Well within time too." She snaps her fingers and the two naga slither forward and apprehend the traitor/spy/whatever he was. They drag him off down a corridor, disappearing from sight. 

Zarius is equally as surprised. Issala's solution to the problem was ingenious. It was incredibly lucky that she had such a useful item on her person and that she thought to use it this way. Also incredibly lucky that one of the three was attached to the corps and just so happened to be living in what looks like the barracks. Issala must just be the luckiest damn fellblood in all of Charon. There's no other explanation. 

"I am a little disappointed," the woman says with a sigh, "but a deal is a deal. You can have your 'dame' back."

The goons guarding Zarius drag him back up to this feet and shove him over to Issala as she rejoins the group. They don't bother to untie his wrists, but that was of little concern as he already had loosened the bonds while Issala was interrogating the other grunts.^[1] He tosses the loose rope to one of the grunts with a crossbow. "Try a different knot next time," he comments while rubbing his wrists.

He stands next to Issala and gives her a nod. "Good work."

Then he shoots a look at the woman. "You have your culprit, we have our answers. Are we free to leave?"

She raises an eyebrow. "In a rush?"

"Forgive me if I found your hospitality lacking."

She shrugs. "We can't all be Madam Mohurk."

"You are hardly trying," the fellblood mutters. 

The woman looks them both up and down again, her eyes linger on Zarius for a moment before she addresses Issala. "Despite the...circumstances of this meeting, I hope we do not find ourselves on opposing sides in the future. You're clever. Could use someone like you to help us make a real difference in Zeinav. If you're interested that is."

---

[1] Escaping Technique

It's almost embarrassing how pleased Izzy is with herself over the outcome. Yes, she was worthy of applause, did an incredible job in record time, and saved the day. At the same time-- why were people surprised! She was a Private Investigator Extraordinare! Why were people so frequently shocked when she did the extraordinary bit!

Nothing to do with her streak of luck, surely. Her older sister often said she was born with a horse-shoe up her ass, but Izzy was fairly certain she would have noticed that.

"Maybe I need more glitter." Izzy muses aloud to herself for a moment, before she is distracted by the return of the dame. "oh right, Ahem. And at last, the Prince returns to my side, where he is safe and sound, rescued by my quick thinking and overall genius." she cuts herself off with a snicker as she watches Zarius chuck the rope at one of the guards. "I told ya."

"No need for us to linger for tea and cakes, my lady. We've taken up enough of your precious time." She agrees with Zarius, though she is much more amiable than he is-- though that might have something more to do with the fact that she wasn't the one who had been tied up.

Though the offer presented takes Izzy by surprise. "Ah, well, thank's Ma'am," She looks down at the mysterious woman and pretends to consider it veeery very carefully, but she's really already made up her mind.

"I consider it for a moment. Whatever the Scorched Ones were involved in, it was risky business, but that sortof business could be pretty lucrative. And interesting."

Plus, it never hurt to be close to people that Izzy now knew like she did. Her head still buzzes with the truth of the woman.

"What the hell," she grins. "I could be pursuaded to work for you in an advisory or contracted capacity. I don't work for free, but I find myself deeply curious as to how you plan to make a difference in Zeinav. Sounds... fun," Her grin turns wolfish.

"Please do not bring glitter into this situation." There was already one colorful fellblood with way too much glitter. And hell knows that if they had been also involved in this altercation, all their heads probably would have been mounted on pikes.

He’s relieved when Issala pushes for them to leave. There was no telling when the sputtering fuse on this canon would go off and he would prefer to not be around for the explosion. But then the offer came and all the warning bells started going off in the fellblood’s head. The same couldn’t be said for his pale companion.

"Careful," Zarius whispers a warning.

He wasn't completely confident that Issala knew what kind of hole she was digging herself into. The Scorched Ones had a terrible reputation in Zeinav and the Corps were all too keen on taking down anyone who was associated with them.

The woman, however, looks pleased. She nods and returns Issala’s toothy grin with one of her own.

Gods. They would be a problematic duo to keep an eye on.

“We’ll be in touch," the woman says to Issala. "I trust that I do not have to mention that everything that has happened here stays amongst those present?”

“I make no promises.”

She chuckles. “First honest thing you’ve said. Just know that it would not be in your best interests to sell us out. I am more than capable of making sure to take you down in flames with us if it comes to that. And the consequences would not only be yours to bear.”

Zarius shifts a bit uncomfortably.

Satisfied, the woman starts to walk off. “Show our guests out and prepare to leave. This location is no longer secure.”

The goons all get back to work while a pair escort Issala and Zarius to a hidden passageway which would take them back to the surface, safe and sound. It is not until they are clear of the hideout and the goons leave them in an empty alleyway that Zarius lets out a long sigh, his shoulders finally relaxing. 

"Dammit," he mutters under his breath. 

"WELL, I can't very well walk around with a chandelier over my head," Izzy responds to Zarius, and then pauses as she considers that very thoughtfully. Could make it a hat, maybe? She puts a pin in that for later.

Despite Zarius' wise warning, unfortunately for everyone involved, Izzy was very much aware of exactly all the endless possibilities that were at her fingertips by accepting the Scorched Ones' offer. Chief among them was future jobs, access to new contacts, a ticket into parts of society she otherwise wouldn't have access to, and of course, a bevvy of personal and confidential information that only a handful of people could get access to. The fact that it was risky either didn't register for the tall fellblood, or it was the icing on the cake.

In any case, she taps the side of her nose knowingly at the woman. "I tap the side of my nose at this good lady, to indicate I am, 'on the nose' with her line of thinking. 'Mum's the word,' I reassure her, before turning back to take a walk with my partner."

Zarius didn't seem as keen to play ball, but that was fine. Her whole intent was to be able to get him out of the situation as cleanly as possible. She tips her non-existent hat once again and allows two of the gang to escort them out of the hideout, back on the surface and in a hidden alley. She takes a deep breath of the relatively fresh air of the city, beaming. That went better than expected. Also worse than expected, but better by far.

She lifts the cigar out of its pocket and strikes a match to light up, glancing down at Zarius through the smoke. "Thinkin' about how you shoulda let me torch the joint?" she ventures a guess, her grin paused for a moment as she takes a long drag on the cigar. "So, you gonna tell me what your deal is with this group? We went to an awwwful lotta effort just now for somethin' that had an unexpected outcome." She arches her brows slightly as she exhales a stream of smoke into the air, away from him.

“Maybe a little bit,” he admits. “Though it was somewhat worth it to see that you are more than just talk. That was a clever solution to what could have turned into a worse situation.”

It was also good to know what kinds of tricks Issala had up her sleeves. He needs to keep that magical key in mind if they ever end up on opposing sides. While he was not keen on the idea of fighting Issala, she could be a problematic foe should she throw her lot in with folks with a vendetta against him. And that wasn’t just the Scorched Ones these days.

He frowns at her next question. “I would rather not. But,” he sucks in a breath through his teeth and puts one hand on a hip. “I do not want to wake up in the middle of the night to find you hanging over my bed demanding answers.”

She’d do it. He has no doubts about that. A tiny black bird already broke into his room once before, surely this woman would figure out a way to do it even though he has increased the number of precautionary protections around the Rookery.

“A relative of mine used to be part of the Scorched Ones. They did not part on good terms and it has kept them from returning to the city out of caution.”

If she wanted more details than that, she would not get them. He couldn’t risk Issala having that sort of information seeing as she had connections with other shady folk. There was a chance that, if she really was going to work with the Scorched Ones, she’d be told their side of the story in time or as a way to color her opinion of his relative. It was a risk either way, but he really does not want to give Issala more than he can trust her with.

Thinking that she would not be too satisfied with that information, he does give her a different tidbit that he was willing to part with.

“I also have a client who will not be too happy about this whole situation. They wanted the Scorched Ones to take the fall for the vandalism.”

He looks at Issala. “Regardless of their intentions, their reputation is shitty and they will have to deal with the consequences of that. You should be careful not to get dragged down with them. The Sultan is not someone who takes opposition lightly.”

"Course I'm more than just talk, you think I'd still be alive if I couldn't back my shit up? Come on now," Izzy's grin stretches regardless; there was something about being underestimated that she enjoyed. Made people less wary of her. It was good for business when everyone assumed she was a clown. Which, to be fiar, she was, but she was a clown who was much to smart for her own good with a penchant for chaos. "Coulda been worse, sure, but I'm very good at making the best out of bad situations."

Almost too good.

A gleeful snicker bubbles up from her at Zarius joke-but-not-a-joke; he wasn't wrong. But Izzy had ways of being much, much more subtle than that. Though it would be funny, and that was almost reason enough to give it a go. He'd mentioned a place in Darkveil when he had last spoke to her and Sparks. Mark that down on the ol' to-do list.

"A relative," she hums thoughtfully, tapping the end of her cigar with her finger and scattering the ash. Not him, then. That made sense, given the vague back and forth between him and the leader-- Eva. Lovely name, that. One she knew. One she knew a lot more about than she ought to. She knows better than to ask more than that, at least for now. In the meantime... best not to tip her hand and let Zarius know what she knows. Not yet at least.

"Weeeelll~. I appreciate the concern." She flashes him a grin. "But y'see, the thing about me, Zarius," Izzy speaks languidly, listing to one side with her ankles crossed until her shoulder falls against the wall. "I like having my greedy little mitts in all sorts of cookie jars. Proverbially, of course. If your client isn't happy about your situation, tell 'em you have a friend on the inside. That's not untrue, and-- was it The Madame, or were you just using her name? Eh, either way," Izzy flaps her hand, trails of smoke following the gesture. "That might be enough to satiate 'em. Or, you can do your own arts and crafts project. The reason I can get away with that shit is because I am good at what I do, and I don't cross the streams. I keep overlapping information to myself and make it benefit me. That way, I stay one step ahead. Of everyone."

She grins down at Zarius, a mouth full of sharp teeth filtering the acrid scent of smoke. "That's kind of the fun thing about this stuff. People are playing a game but they don't even know all the pieces on the board; how many, where they are, who controls them. Everyone has their own little bit of the puzzle, but no one else's pieces. I'm good at what I do because I can look at the big picture, I help other people figure out more about their piece of the puzzle. So, ask yourself, my dear friend, the Dame of this wonderful tale we've woven together," Izzy lowers her head towards Zarius, the too-wide grin splitting further across her face, as her voice lowers. "Why were you sent to mess up the Scorched Ones when you have a family member on their shit-list? Because that's much too perfect to be a coincidence. I think someone wanted you nice and exposed. And it worked."

"Believe me, there are plenty of folks who are alive and well who are not half as capable." He could name a handful of people off the top of his head that he did not hold in particularly high regard. As much as Kvasir insisted otherwise, one sparkly purple fellblood does come to mind.

Zarius just stares at Issala as she brags about her strong suits. Clearly being humble was not one of the virtues in her extensive arsenal. Then again, she could actually back up her confidence as evident in the results of their altercation with the Scorched Ones.

He stands his ground as Issala leans her face down towards his. She was way too close for comfort but he wasn't one to give her the satisfaction of him shying away.

It wasn't a ridiculous question, he was thinking about it himself. This client knew his reputation, and while it was possible that they were unaware of his familial connection, it still was risky to put him in a situation like that given that the Scorched Ones were so unpredictable in their actions these days.

He scoffs and chuckles a bit. "Exposed, huh? I suppose that works in your favor."

Really, this whole situation was less than ideal for himself. While he had done his best to keep any important information from getting into the wrong hands, Issala had acquired enough to be a liability.

The end of his tail twitches. He could take Issala out. Make it look like one of her clients finally got paranoid enough to get rid of her. Then again, the woman had displayed that she has a certain level of skill, and plenty of tricks up her sleeves. Chances of taking her out quietly was…well, slim to none. He’s had enough excitement for one day if he was being honest with himself.

His best bet was to stay on Issala’s good side and try to cultivate some loyalty from her. She had already stuck her neck out for him once. That was a good sign.

He sighs, folds his arms, and leans back against a wall.

"What do you want from me, Miss Arodre? Do you want me to hire you to investigate this or something?"

At least now the investigator had quit the self-narration. Maybe they could have a normal conversation.

"'Favour' is a matter of perspective." Her voice remains smooth, the smile still wide and jovial, and ever so sharp. "Your exposure doesn't benefit me unless I want it to, and honestly, that seems like a whoooole ass kettle of fish. Based on your interaction with the good lady down there, my best guess is that there's enough people, resources and context the periphery of your whole deal that makes me think that if something gets poked the wrong way, a whole tonne of stuff is gonna come tumbling down. I will say-- it's interesting."

Whether intentionally or not, that sounded more dangerous than any of the things she had said so far.

"But I'm not looking to make anything off it. The world's delicate enough as it is right now. That might sound lofty, for me to compare whatever you have going on as 'world=breaking' but I know a domino when I see one. Lucky for you," --for everyone, really, "I'm smart enough to tread carefully with situations with potentially explosive outcomes. I can't say the same for others who might be perusing your life on the outside."

A smile splits her face as Zarius deigns to relax in her presence, leaning ever so casually against the wall. "Well, now that the dame has gone and said it, it sounds like a fine idea indeed. 'Well, if that's what you're offering, then I humbly accept,' I say, bowing," she does, a sweeping gesture at the waist before she smoothly pops back up. "But I have many uses, just as life has many doors, Zar-boy. If I can understand the situation better, I can see which way certain dominoes are bound to fall-- and, maybe, prevent it, if I can. Or at least give you a heads up." She lifts and drops one shoulder in a shrug, a loose offering.

Yeah. None of that was really all that reassuring.

Issala was a wild card. Despite her claims, Zarius hardly buys a single word of it. What motivates her, what stakes she has in anything, all of it was still up in the air. She wasn't someone Zarius could predict the actions of or manipulate easily, and that put him on edge. So long as they stayed on the same side it would probably be fine, but if she had any reason to turn against him it would be a complete shit show. 

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, I certainly feel lucky."

Hiding any hint of sarcasm in his voice wasn't even worth it at this point. He could put on airs all he wanted, but Issala would just needle him more and more until she was satisfied with his reaction. It was pretty obvious she wanted to get under his skin. The question was why, and did she have some sort of ulterior motive. 

When the narration starts right on back up again, his eyes gloss over with exhaustion. What a fool he was for thinking she would drop it.

Taking a deep breath, he nods. “I will keep that in mind, though I would prefer to keep you from getting too entangled in my personal business troubles. Understand that is not a reflection on your competence, you have more than proved yourself. It is just that I cannot afford to compromise you further."

Or rather, he could not afford to take any more risks that could trigger a conflict leading back to his family. His relations with the Sultan were already strained, and given the man's distain for the criminals of Darkveil, he doubts his royal highness would ignore the possibility of taking down a more public member with connections to the Scorched Ones to boost his own public image. 

"That said, if you do decide to join the Scorched Ones or at least keep tabs on them, I would pay you well for any insights on any connections they may have with the syndicates in Darkveil. Same for if you hear anything related to me or those associated with me. The more ears and eyes I have on things the better.”

He uncrosses his arms and tucks his hands into his pockets. “If you are not interested in coin, we can discuss trading other services. Within reason, that is.”

Giving Issala too long of a leash was probably a bad idea, not that he could make her heel in the first place. He had little to no dirt on her to use as leverage, yet she had enough to use against him. It was far from his preferred dynamic. 

His gaze drifts to the open street at the end of the alleyway. 

Gods. 

He was tired. There's a just a weight that seems to be pulling him down more and more these days. Something like this normally wouldn't have drained him so much, but he just feels so worn out as it's one thing after another. 

He closes his eyes and takes a moment to just listen to sounds of the busy street beyond. The murmurs and shuffling of feet only last for a second or two before they are drowned out by the chorus of whispers creeping up in the back of his mind. If only for a moment, he scowls before opening his eyes and regains a more neutral expression and looking back towards Issala. 

"What is next for you?"

"Entanglllled? Perish the thought," If the creeping smile in her voice made her sound insincere, that's because it was. Izzy loved being all up in that nonsense, that's where the information was juiciest. Though, she did... appreciate? The concern about compromising her further.

Compromising what exactly? Did he see her as valuable and was trying to protect an asset, or did he see her as a means to an end that was unaffiliated in whatever else he had going on in his life that would draw her in much, much too close for comfort? Interesting, interesting.

The offer makes her grin, though. Now that was exactly the sort of quid pro quo she was looking for. "I nod along, agreeing; 'She never said I couldn't', I point out with a grin." Izzy winks. And besides that, she already had a pretty good idea of the ins and outs of the Scorched Ones, though she was going to hang onto that information for now. Always had to double check your sources. "I'd be interested in a bit of both, depending on what you've got~. Keep things from getting messy. Or ah, how did you put it... compromised."

That could be a fun game! Decide the price of whatever information was worth! Bartering coin or bartering information and resources! Just the idea made her eyes sparkle. Zeinavian to her core-- she loved a good bit of haggling.

She watches him for a careful few seconds, noting the flexing and brief flickers of annoyance or consternation that cross his face. Listening, but there was a lot to listen to. The road, your own thoughts, the regrets of how you landed yourself in this situation chastising you once again. Then he asks her a question, and she blinks. "Me? Oooh, probably a bit of travel. There's some, ah, things being asked of me out in the Ash Lands, Dragon's Cradle area. Got some folks to find. What about you?"

"I should wrap up my business here then head back to Darkveil. If you need assistance with your things in the Ash Lands, you know where to find me."

He doubts the woman forgot about what he told her the first time they met. Though he knows he'll regret her visiting the Rookery in the long run, it would be good to get Eameia to get a read on the woman to assess how much of a threat she actually was. 

Well, he could worry about that if she showed up, and it seemed like that was highly likely given her enthusiasm and uncomfortable comments. Lingering here longer was not a good idea and it was time he took his leave. 

"Miss Arodre, it has been an...eventful day. I am certain we both have things that need our attention and it would be best not to delay attending to other business any longer."

He decides to humor her if only a little and gives a more theatrical bow. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"On a purely professional level, of course." The need to clarify was necessary.

And with that he turns and leaves, becoming invisible before he steps beyond the alleyway and into the open street.^[1]

---

[1] Invisibility

"Duly noted~." the grin widens, apparently incapable of keeping the pure glee out of her voice as Zarius made a tacit offer of aid of services she might requrie on her travels. And she would absolutely take him up on that offer. She certainly remembered the location Zarius had mentioned to her and her apprentice some weeks on. And she also certainly remembered the house he had in Zeinav. But Zarius didn't need to know about that. That was Shaa's fault anyway.

Izzy nods very sagely, as she takes another long drag on her cigar, "'Yes, of course, mmhmmm. So many things.' Is what I say, but of course, there is only one thing on my mind at the moment. A stiff drink and maybe a bite to eat before passing the fuck out. Ohh!" Her grin widens as Zarius bows, declaring that it would be good to see her again soon.

Despite the clarity, Izzy grin splits wide across her features, absolutely delighted. Formality shmormality, as far as Izzy was concerened, they were now besties.

"Of cooourseeee, purely professional best friends who are enthused to see eachother once again for the exchange of information yes, of course. It would be lovely to see you again soon as well, meine Aschenprinz." Izzy twirls her fingers as the fellblood departs, the corners of her smile curling devilishly. "Maybe sooner than you thiiiink."

She fires fingerguns at Zarius before twirling her way back down the alley to resume her monologuing. "And so ends another incredible caper. Some friends made along the way, a few enemies, but who doesn't have a few of those? But with the matter of the Zeinavian Vandal behind us, what lies before us," who us was, precisely, Izzy does not elaborate on, "is further mystery. Just what sort of stake does The Dame have in all this? Who in his family was affiliated with the Scorched Ones once upon a time? What will I have for dinner tonight? So many questions. The answers..." Izzy pauses in the shadow of an alley for dramatic effect. "Lie onward."

With that pseudo-deep conclusion, Izzy makes her way down the road proper, humming tunelessly to herself a song that only she knew.