Not for my tastes

chapter 1

“It’s quiet. Too quiet.”

“No shit, Vik. We’ve been driving in this area for ten minutes, it’s out on the edge of town - and we’ve seen no one else in the area.” His boss replied, curling his lips back for a moment.

“I just wanted to say that line.” Vik mumbled, ducking down as the boss leaned over him and peered out the windows. The car had pulled into an empty parking lot by what looked like an older building. Paint on the bricks had been worn down, as well as posters that once sat there. Although there seemed to be no ways of entry - the building lacked windows - they had spotted a doorway before, on the other side.
The boss leaned back, if only to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“Um- you’re going in there alone?”
It took a few seconds before his reply came. “Yes.” Short, and to the point.
Vik nodded, catching the boss’s dark eye in the mirror for a moment. The boss had a name, of course - out of respect, he’d only ever refer to him by Boss, or his last name, Skeie. Or a mixture of the two. Boss Skeie. No one called the boss by his first name - at least, not normally. One could almost think that his name was actually Skeie based off of how often he’s referred to as, but in reality, his name was...
Vik looked back as he heard the click of the door opening. The boss’s black boots came into contact with the pavement, and he adjusted his jacket, not once looking back at the car. “I will be back in twenty.”
He almost considered asking, ‘if you’re not?’ But even an innocent question such as that had him fearing that the boss could think it were him doubting his abilities. Vik nodded in confirmation, turning on the car for the time being.
As the boss proceeded to the sidewalk, presumably heading to that door they spotted earlier...
..ah, yes. The boss’s name. The boss is called Kjetil.

Kjetil was something of a businessman. Except he wasn’t. He did make deals, occasionally, and this was one of those times. His stride is even, refined. With purpose. He never trips up, only slowing down once to open the door, thankfully wearing gloves as his fingers brush by the dirty handle. Surprisingly silent as he moves it, he pushes the door forwards and walks into the building. It’s a bit dark, he realizes, and slides a box over to stop the door from closing again.
He moves through the building. It doesn’t have very many twists or turns, he realizes - it’s mostly a straightforward walk through the place. His movement disturbs the dust that had been sitting on the floor and walls.

When he enters a large, more open room, he comes face to face with tall, wide curtains. Beyond them, he can see faint shadows - there must be windows, behind those curtains, he recognizes. There’s at least two he can see - maybe three.
“Alone?” Came a voice. A low voice, directed towards him.

“Who is asking?” Kjetil sniffs, blinking his one good eye.
“The one you made the deal with.”
“J?” Kjetil calls, moving a hand to rest on his hip.
“Correct. You are Skeie, we presume?”
Kjetil nods. “I’ve got the money. It’s time for you to uphold your end of the deal.”

The curtains part, and he can see that there are indeed, two men, both faces covered presumably to protect their identities. One wears a half mask, leaving his eyes visible - the other wears a full mask, which comes from a simple design, just a blank, white thing resting on his face. The one with the half mask presents a case, about a foot long. He holds it out, but doesn’t walk forwards.
Only does he walk towards him when Kjetil brings out another case. A hefty price, and for what, a case? They both meet halfway and make their exchange.
The masked one returns to his partner, and they both whisper, before nodding, and leaving the area without a word. Kjetil holds the case. It’s quite an elaborate thing, mostly dark in colour - maybe purple, with a texture almost like scales. And golden lines that separate like roots, or veins, marking the case. It also contains something inside.
Turning around, Kjetil was about to leave, when he hears some cans fall over. He turns, his left eye scanning the entire area, stopping on the paint can that had rolled out into the open.
No loose ends.

Kjetil carefully sets the case down and pulls out his revolver, carefully walking forwards. He stops again, hearing something shift in a heap of cans, and turns to his left, aiming the revolver. He’s sure that whatever’s there is...over there.
He walks forwards again, not lowering his weapon. He aims...but doesn’t shoot, instead holding his gaze for what felt like hours, before turning away and lowering his weapon. He’s sure it’s just an animal. Places like these have animals, don’t they?

He’s wrong, especially when he feels someone collide into him from behind.
Kjetil drops his revolver out of sheer surprise, almost stumbling into the ground. He’s nearly silent, going extremely still when he realizes that there are two arms wrapped around his waist. And a head, pressed into his back. The person stayed silent, moving with him as he decided to test the waters to see what the person would do if he stepped forwards a bit. He was also trying to retrieve his revolver.
Whatever this person wanted, Kjetil realized, was probably not out of malicious intent. He knew that much. It was almost like they were hugging him. But you don’t hug strangers. Even the ones in abandoned warehouses.
He leaned down, the person adjusting their hold on him. They didn’t want to let go. His fingers brushed against the revolver, nearly grabbing it - before it slid out of reach. This time, Kjetil inhaled, out of frustration. He had barely touched it, how did it get pushed?
So he tried again, getting closer, and trying to grasp the gun. And again, the same thing happened, albeit the revolver slid a bit further this time, as if to tell him to not attempt again.

“Who are you?” He finally had asked, considering his options. He really wanted to get this person away from him.
She responded back. Except, it wasn’t a response to his question. “They..they tried to catch me,” she breathed out, her voice just above a whisper.
He thinned his lips. “I’m asking you a question,” he repeated, “Who are you?”
“Isei..”
His hands lowered to hers, touching them, in attempt to pry her away from him. However, he was stopped, by the woman tightening her grip. He inhaled again. She was strong, he realized. Despite her height - the woman seemed to be a lot shorter than him, she was..strong.
“Protect me.”
“What?”
“Protect me, and I will owe my life. To you.”
“Lady..I have no time for this,” Kjetil began, his accent slipping through. If he was being honest, this whole ‘protect me’ thing was a bit weird.
“I will owe my life!” He froze as her sharp voice stopped him. “And. And..I have gifts! For you! To show that I can be trusted!”
Kjetil weighs his options. This was supposed to be a quick meeting, but it seems it might drag on a bit more. Plus - even if he is weirded out, he still can’t help the tiny bit of curiosity, slowly rising.
“What do you have?” He says after a moment.

The woman lets go, and he’s finally able to stand up fully again, turning around to meet the woman supposedly called Isei.
He was right. Isei was short, maybe a bit over 4ft in height. She also wore a coat several sizes over what she should have, along with the rest of her clothing. In all honesty, it looked a bit silly, watching the woman shuffle through a bag she had slung around herself.
She raised her arm into the air, having found what she wanted - a small vial, seemingly filled with what looked like water. “Here!” Isei said, excitedly. “This is my first gift to you.” She looked up at him, presenting the vial.
Kjetil briefly hesitated, but soon took the vial, and brought it up to his eye to inspect it. It looked pretty normal. “..Thank you?”
“Drink it! It is very refreshing.” She closed her eyes, smiling and nodding to herself.
Right now? He didn’t say that out loud, but raised an eyebrow. Kjetil decided to drink it. He twisted the cap off, pausing to look at Isei for her reaction - a bright grin across her features. He brought it to his lips and swallowed the liquid. It was a bit sugary, Kjetil realized as it hit his tongue.
“Refreshed?”
If he was being honest, he wasn’t feeling much different. The vial was small. He handed it back to Isei. “..Mm..Yes,” he hummed, telling a bit of a lie. Isei didn’t seem to realize that, and she clasped her hands together.
“Yay! So..can I come with you?” Right onto the next point.
Kjetil turned, moving to retrieve his items. “Can’t exactly leave you be,” he said. He couldn’t. There was the high chance this woman saw the deal. He couldn’t leave that alone.
“So sure. Follow me.”
Isei did a small jump, smiling again. “Thank you!”
Kjetil trailed on forwards, back to the car. Isei, behind him.