Fitting

"Things like she works for the pigs; the gods-damn secret police, even! That's who she did me in for!" Hettie absently picked up one of her swatches and started twisting it violently as she continued. "AND she's fucking some Corriveaux cunt!"

Korisse only knew enough about either of the two mentioned groups to know that they were both very dangerous. "Oh Hettie, I'm so sorry... I know she hurt you very badly." This seemed like salt in old wounds, but she wasn't sure what she could do to help, so she just squeezed Hettie's shoulder again, setting aside her pastry.

"... So then I found out where she lives." The look on Hettie's face was grim, dangerous, and a touch manic.

Korisse froze, a little frightened by her friend's expression. "Hettie..." She pulled her hand back briefly, looking down at the mangled fabric swatch. Instead, she closed it over Hettie's, turning to look her friend in friend in the eye, despite her nerves. "Please don't do anything drastic."

"Drastic? Well like what? You got any ideas?" She laughed bitterly.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just don't like that look."

"Honey, I just-" she pursed her lips for a second as she fought to keep away the tears she could feel burning at the backs of her eyes, "I just gotta get mad, or I'll get so sad I'll die."

Korisse scootched a little closer, squeezing Hettie's hand again.  "I never found it helped," she said, after a moment.  "You can't just have one without the other.  It's still there.....and it won't kill you, even if you wish it would."

"I'm gonna see that her scaly mobster girlfriend finds out what she is, anyway... See how that plays out. Maybe that'll be enough." She looked up suddenly at Korisse, as an idea came to her. "Say, maybe you could help me."

Korisse blinked. "How do you mean?"

"I ain't askin' you to shiv her, relax... I just had an idea I would slip Corrie a note about Nycki at Tits', see. But you've seen my chicken scratchin'. Like as not she wouldn't be able to even read it. An' a more... polished-like hand might throw the scent off me, as it were." A plan was already forming...

"Oh, yes.... I could do that, of course. Do you think that she doesn't know, then?"

"It'd be some kinda... what you call it, conflict of interests, wouldn't it?"

Korisse sat back, thoughtful, wondering just how much trouble this could cause. "I'm really not sure! I would think so? It isn't an area I have much expertise in, though..."

"Well, I can't imagine the Hush lettin' it go on if it weren't their idea. Half their job's gotta be managing Corrie." She made a face. The other half bein' ruinin' lives of folk like me...

Korisse nodded. "What do you want me to write? And....what do you think they'll do?"

"I dunno... But I can imagine. I got a real good imagination." She tapped her tample with a wicked grin. "Prolly nothing good. Anyway, just put somethin' like 'Thought you'd wanna know your Lady Friend Mlle. Dulpoyé is workin' for the Hush. Folk what let her get too close have a habit of endin' up in the Creux, so watch your back before she sticks a knife in it.' But write it like you would I guess. You sound smarter."

Korisse was pretty sure she didn't want to imagine, or to think too hard about what happened to people who crossed the Hush. But Hettie was likely to do something, regardless, and this seemed less rash or risky than other scenarios she could envision. "Alright... Did you want me to do it now? Or, I could drop something by later?"

"Later's fine... Thanks sweetie." She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. "I think I'm ready to work now."

"Alright... Well, finish your pastry first at least! And then just tell me what to do, I suppose."