It's almost entertaining the things that are stolen from someone who has nothing. 

The people who were robbing her now had to be desperate, for they were grabbing for anything of any possible value. The bed frame had been completely taken apart, one of the legs missing, and all the nails stolen out of it. This was not much of a loss, the mattress for it had been stolen the first week of living there. The desk -- which had already had the top of it ripped off in week two of living there -- had all of its legs removed, so now there was a hollowed out case of wood sitting on the dirt floor. It would still work as a place to clean her guns without her bullets rolling around everywhere. 

She was surprised she still had her lamp. When she went to click it on, however, she found that the lightbulb had been stolen out of it. With a sigh, she removed it, climbed up the ladder, and pushed it out on the cobblestone street. Someone would grab it at some point, whether as trash or as something to keep. 

Going back down, she looked in her dark little room and shuddered. Now there was a wooden plank, the bag she just set down, and nothing else. The curtain she had been using as a "bed" had been taken too. Ramona climbed back up the ladder and opened her latch to reach out for the lamp, and pulled it back inside. It was silly, maybe, to keep a useless lamp, but it made her space feel less empty. 

Really, this was just a sign that she needed to find a new place to live. Or better yet, finally get the money to get out of this damned country. 

It wasn't as though it had sentimental value to her. She lived in a small hell-hole shelter between two buildings that are so close that you couldn't walk down it head on. The man who gave it to her told her it was a popular spot for ill-moraled curious people, but it was so uncomfortable she was a bit surprised it was this much of a problem. This was the third time she'd been ransacked this week alone. 

Grabbing hold of her bag, she pulled out her wallet and tossed it on the floor. Taking off her jacket and laying it down as her new bed, Ramona untucked her shirt and reached for the strap of money she had around her waist and dropped that on top of her wallet. Taking off her shoes, she took the wad of cash out of the shoes, and then reached up and unclipped the money she had to her thigh, dropping it all on top of the wallet. She needed to count. How many more months was she going to be stuck here? How much of this money needed to go to expenses like food, and maybe a new lightbulb?

Scratch the lightbulb. Her sentimentality for furniture was not worth the ability to leave the country.

Rifling through bills and coins, she was getting closer to being able to rent a boat that could survive the heavy tides. At the current rate, she could rent a putt-putt boat that might be able to do a fishing trip, but she wouldn't be able to get far enough from shore. The goal was to get out, and if she was to get out, she needed a vessel that could make it past the bloodthirsty stretch of waters called Splinter's Belt. 

Ramona huffed, sliding a hand across her face. She'd been there for too long, already. Money was coming in faster, but the woman who was smuggled here would be appalled if she saw who she became.

Knock, knock, knock. knock, knock, knock. knock, knock.

Rapid beats. It was Cat. 

Ramona began gathering up all of her money, placing it back into its holders, but she didn't have enough time.  Cat had already opened the hatch and was dropping down. Like the creature she was named for, she landed gracefully despite the steep drop. 

"Hello, my cap-i-tan!"

Captain.  It could be worse. This was better than Cat calling her "lady", or other not-so-kind things.

Her wave to Ramona swung her back so far she was able to loop her arm in the ladder, and so she slung herself from it. The lady was a mess; bloody knees visible through chopped pants, clothes completely in tatters with bruises -- Ramona was pretty sure hickeys -- all over her neck and top of her chest where her sternum protruded exponentially. A big grin was on her face, but her bald eyebrows angled in a way that made Ramona want to reach for her gun .

"I've got something for ya," she said. Swinging around the ladder, she looped clumsily over and over. "Some big news for that big dream of yours."

Cat had a loose understanding as to what Ramona's big dream was. If she had to guess, she imagined a big sail with a skull and crossbones, with Ramona at the bow; and she had an inclination that Cat was aiming at being her first mate on this adventure she'd made up.

It was, in a way, an endearing thought. Unlike everyone else on this part of town, however, when Ramona said she was leaving, she meant it. 

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Cat's eyes glowed at the sight of Ramona's money. "But the information ain't free."

Faster than Cat could blink, Ramona had her gun out of its holster. 

"You've not seen a thing, Cat." 

"Don't shoot the messenger! I just want a little money to eat." The grin on her face, stretched, as if cut open by a knife. "For helping you, I deserve something."

Pulling down the hammer of her gun, a twitch of her hand and the gun would fire. Cat had been around enough guns to know that, Ramona assumed. The reaction she got from that confirmed it, Cat stiffening up, no longer looking quite so gleeful. 

"Tell me the information first, and we'll see what it's worth." 

"Put that away first," her voice trembled. 

"Not a chance, Catty." 

Throwing her legs out from underneath her, Cat dropped to the floor with a thud and groaned. "You play a hard bargain."

"Whatcha got."

She sat up straight and crossed her legs, squinting for a moment before relaxing her position. "The amount of money you could make on this, a little bit of pocket money would be nothing to ya, captain." 

Ramona raised an eyebrow and Cat giggled, only to have it stopped short and Cat scooting much closer. To keep her away, Ramona moved the gun to the top of her knee. 

"Easy."

"Could say the same to you." 

"D'you keep up with the politics around here, captain?" Cat asked. She had a gleam to her voice, a whisper that wasn't there before. "I don't, but real recently things got interesting."

Ramona hummed in response. She knew a little, but didn't want to know much. Too busy with her own goals, there was no point in learning the system of the place you wanted to leave unless you were going to use the information somehow. She had tried that, but it didn't really work. 

What she did know was that the royal family here has been having one hell of a time. The family started off with four heirs, an two eldest sons and then a set of twins, one a girl and the other a boy. The second boy had gone on to be a military general and died out in battle. One of the twins got caught up in some sort of scandal, and was found hanging by a sheet covered in threats for the family. The twin sister apparently went mad and was banished from taking the throne. 

That left the eldest, the child who was supposed to get the throne in the first place, however he had deferred it in favor of his siblings. A strange boy, only greeted the public on very special occasions, and hadn't been seen in years. Most assumed he'd finally died of whatever had allegedly ailed him. Either way, with no heir after their parents died, a new royal family was coming to the throne. It was a big uproar, which meant a lot more crime. Part of the reason that Ramona had been getting more money as of recent. 

"The new family up on high wants to make sure the sickly one is dead."

She hummed again, but couldn't keep up the cavalier. "How?"

"There's a ransom. Dead or alive. They want him, if you can find him." 

It was an interesting opportunity, and not the least bit surprising. Royal families all have some sort of greed about them. If it wasn't for actual money, it was greed for beauty, for power, even to be the most peaceful. They've got to be the best somehow, and usually that's why they're the worst. 

They're putting a ransom on a man who hadn't been seen since he was eighteen. Six years, he could be anywhere, and if he was as sick as many claim to be he was most certainly dead. "Tempting, but I don't think so."

"They want over a billion for 'im though!"

A billion? That'd be more than Ramona needed, and at such a value, she suspected that this new family didn't expect anyone to find him, either. An extraordinary amount of money for an extraordinary feat. Seemed a bit out of reach. Standing up, she flicked the hammer back up on the gun and let it hang by her side. "That's interesting. Keep me updated." 

"You're not going to go for it?!"

Ramona shook her head. "No. Thanks though. You may go now." 

Cat pouted and crossed her arms, but there was something a bit more angry bubbling underneath the look. "I believe a bit more gratitude is in order." She angled her head towards Ramona's cash. Ramona laughed and kicked the money back towards her. 

"What? For telling me something I could read in a paper somewhere?" Ramona picked a coin out of her pocket and tossed it at her. "That's how much what you told me was worth."

No, Ramona needed to work towards what was realistic. Go find some lost king, with no leads and no way to follow his tracks? It was a bit too fanciful for her taste. 

Cat lunged at her, gripping at her collar. "Did I say I was done you --" Ramona smashed the butt of her gun into Cat's shoulder, and with a cry, she dropped. 

"Don't touch me. Ever." The gun was primed again, and pointed right at her. "You want money? Earn it." 

Whimpering in a crumpled heap on the floor, Cat made a pitiful display of herself. With the way her knees were torn up and her clothes were half strewn, Ramona knew she had dealt with worse today. Pushing the lady with her foot, Ramona kept her distance. "C'mon, talk."

"There's a gang, a gang who was paid off to pull him from the streets six years ago. They're making noise in the eastern quarter -- claim they're gonna make a move tonight. Say they know where they were supposed to bring him."

"Why should I believe that?" Ramona asked. She bent down to look Cat in the face. "Why did you?"

"They claim to have his crown."

That was quite the claim to have. If there really were people who were paid off to pull the heir from the streets, they wouldn't be so loud about it -- at least they shouldn't be. However, to have a the heir's crown was flashy, hard to fabricate such a thing around there. Something was off about the whole thing, but Ramona did have to admit it was more than she thought she'd get from Cat. 

"Did they mention whether he was dead or alive?" 

If he was dead, that would make Ramona's life that much easier. And she had to admit, she felt a little guilt at the idea of serving up someone as a sacrifice. Not that she was going to go for it. 

Cat shook her head, then let out a horrible cough. "No, they didn't."

"Did they say who paid them off to take him off the street?"

"Said that was confidential." 

Ramona grabbed Cat by the back of her clothes and hoisted her up. She took five bills and stuffed them into Cat's hand. "For the info. And for hitting you. That should be enough for you and Riven, yeah?" 

Cat softened a little, but sneered at the bills. "If you're counting my boy, he could use a bit more than that."

"Well, with you as a mother, he surely has figured out that he won't ever get what he might deserve, eh?" 

Cat gave a crisp nod and a smirk. "Such a jerk." She pulled herself up on the ladder. "You gonna go for it, captain?" 

Ramona shrugged. "Not sure yet. If I find out your playing me --"

The more animated Cat returned, and she swung around the ladder. "Aw, cap, do you really think I'd do that to you? You're a good bully to have around." 

With that, she pulled herself up and out of the hatch. The door slammed, and Ramona became incredibly aware of how dark it was in her little hole. 

She needed to breathe, do something routine. She wished she had her viola, or maybe a sketchbook, but all she had was a hollowed out desk and a few guns. So she began cleaning the gun she almost used on Cat. 

There was something unsettling about the whole scenario. The new royal family was certainly quick to show their hand, to Ramona they seemed like bastards real fast. Also, going after a sickly boy who hasn't been seen in six years felt ridiculous. She didn't even know what he looked like. 

At the same time, if he really were so sickly, he wouldn't be able to survive on his own. Even if he was snatched off the street, if it was really done by the gang whose owning it now, then they probably didn't drop his body far. They wouldn't put more time into it than they had to, even if it were the smart play. 

Pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she couldn't get calm enough to think. She was so close to leaving she could taste it, but at the same time it'd be weeks, months even. If the political sphere took another turn, it could be another year. Ramona couldn't wait that long.  

Ripping the coat off the floor and resetting her guns into their holsters, she puffed out a breath. She needed to get out of this hole. Needed to get out and think a little. 

It might be best to think while heading towards the east side of the city, check in on Cat's information. Maybe it rings true. Who knows; in the case that everything does align, maybe she'd actually treat herself and sleep in a bed. 

If she wasn't killed first, that is.