Chapter 2 - Into The Rain
Setzer hadn't been kidding about it not being safe. After the business with Kefka was all over, he originally had moved to Jidoor. He could afford it. But there had been the badly hidden sneers. The little comments about how "lucky" he'd been to get his house. There was the tendency of people to look away when he walked down the street. He was rich, but it didn't matter. He was still Not Our Sort, Dear. So he had moved to Zozo. One extreme to another, he knew, but he liked it there. The people there looked him in the eye when he was talking to them. Usually because looking someone in the eye meant they looked you in the eye, which meant their eye wasn't on their wallet, but… There was no prejudice against him for having come from humbler beginnings. Zozo was humble beginnings, every inch of it. There was certainly no prejudice against him for being rich. Being rich meant he had 'got it', and as long as he stuck around, that was a chance for others to 'get it.' Through selling him things, or… otherwise.
He had initially had some trouble with some people with a very… direct approach, when it came to 'getting it' from him. Originally no-one was the slightest bit interested in crossing anyone who'd had a piece of "the power," but as magic slowly started to fade, greed overcame fear in some of the less savoury elements of society. Most of Setzer's combat abilities, however, stemmed more from natural dexterity and metallic cards with razor edges, so the loss of magic didn't affect him much. After about ten separate attempts to liberate his things, the number missing fingers in town spoke louder than words, and people stopped trying. The people of Zozo were a pack of thieves and hoodlums, but they were honest about it. Not honest about much else, particularly the time of day for some reason, but their nature, they were up front about. Setzer appreciated that. He'd had enough pretence to last him several lifetimes. He liked the gloomy climate, the constant rain so close to sunny Jidoor being an anomaly that he appreciated the irony of. But outside his loft, protected by his reputation as the man whose hand was quicker than your eye's ability to dodge, Zozo was a tough town.
And Relm had just charged out into it. At night. Alone.
"Dammit!" Setzer shouted as he snapped out of his reverie. He really was starting to act like an old man, drifting off into memory at the most inconvenient moments. How long had it been? He glanced at the clock. It had stopped working again. Damn, damn, damn! Must be the humidity here. Clockwork turned into a clump of rust very quickly in Zozo.
He slid open a drawer in an end table and grabbed a deck of razorcards and a bundle of darts. He glanced at the top of the table, at his tiny pocket slot machine. It had been unreliable since magic had started to fade, but when had it ever been really reliable? He shrugged, and pocketed it. He looked in the drawer to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, saw his battle dice. No. Even if magic loss hadn't rendered them into mere oddities, they weren't reliable. And – and that was more than enough considering. He had to get GOING. He went to the closet, threw on his leather duster for what minimal protection it might afford him, and strode into the night.