Private Tales Money Talks

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"None of them did." He hissed and lightly slammed a balled fist against the boat, "just because they sold themselves to men... does that mean their futures showed no promise?! How many died that night? How many lived, but live with their lives ruined?"

When Lailah looked up, he stepped away from her and looked out over the ocean. Vincent's nails dug into the palm of his hand, leaving behind tiny crescent-shaped indentions.

"They won't ever stop looking for you, you know." He seethed.
 
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Lailah flinched slightly as his fist slammed against the boat.. "Van..I meant, that two of them didn't get away with it." she bit down on her lip and watched him step away. Her chest ached but she gave him space and settled against the boat and slid to sit against it, her fingers digging into clutch hold of the wet sand.

If Lailah could have killed more of them she would have. She didn't feel an ounce of guilt over it what-so-ever, each one of them deserved hell.

"I know." she answered quietly and her eyes fell to the ocean.. "But the thought of you having to leave your home kills me.. She'd ruined his life enough, in her eyes, but she kept that thought locked behind her lips and she sighed.

"I feel safe here, Van. With you. They might never look here." she reasoned with a frown as though she didn't quite believe her own words. Of course, they might look here, and that would be far worse for her than running. She let her head fall back and cast her stormy gaze toward the heavens as though asking for some sort of answer.

"I don't know what the right thing is.." she huffed in frustration.
 
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"They'll never stop looking, though. Not unless something is done. It's like being hunted by a giant snake."

Vincent stepped deeper down the beach until the waves lapped at the soles of his boots. He sniffed and pulled his cloak tighter around him.

"The right thing is what keeps us alive."
 
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Lailah frowned up at him.. “You speak as though what you want to do is fight, but what’s most likely to keep us alive is to run..” her head tilted. She didn’t want to do either of those things, but she could see how much it was getting to him. She didn’t know the answer, but she knew what she wanted and that was for Van to have peace.

“Do you know anyone? Any friends from the pits?..” she frowned..
 
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He did want to fight. He wanted to crush them all. Everyone that had a part in what happened months ago.

The question seemed to calm him down if only a tiny bit.

"My cornerman, Quinn. A few others, too. Why?" He turned and walked back to the boat, leaning his hip against it. A hand reached out and his fingers idly combed through Lailah's silver curls.
 
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She watched him as he moved back to the boat, and as she felt his fingers comb through her hair she closed her eyes briefly and let out a quiet sigh.. "Maybe, if we balance the scales a little, we.." she pressed her lips into a thin line, as though fighting with herself over what she was saying.

She opened her eyes on the horizon and huffed. "Look either we stay, or we leave. I'm afraid that if we stay, they'll find us, and I'm afraid if we leave you'll resent me for dragging you out of your home. That revenge on your mind will fester away, and you'll let the guilt you have eat you alive. You want them to pay, understandably. Maybe, it's the only way for you to have any peace. But we can't do it on our own." she looked up at him.
 
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Vincent narrowed his eyes at her. Resent her? He could never. He never blamed her for a thing. "People have been out for that gang for... years. We can gather allies. Won't be easy."

He pet Lailah's head one last time before folding his arms and heavily sighing. They sat in silence for a while, only the sounds of squawking seagulls and rolling waves breaking the quietness between them.

"I know this is selfish... stupid. But, I can count on you, right?"
 
Her lips twisted in thought and she nodded in agreement as she too fell to silence, listening to the cacophony of gulls and the drum of waves, and her eyes closed as she breathed in deeply, the affect of the sounds almost ataractic.

His question caused her eyes to open and she stared up at him incredulously. Her chest physically ached and she had to drag her gaze away from him in fear of betraying the hurt she felt at such a question. She had nobody else to trust, she'd never once doubted that she could count on him. She swallowed and frowned, he had a right to ask the question, in fact she couldn't really blame him for considering it, but she couldn't help how she felt about it.

She pulled herself to her feet and nodded at him as she dusted the sand from her legs, her gaze down cast as she nodded in response.. "Yes, Van.. You can. I'd have thought you'd have known that by now." she rubbed at the back of her neck and stepped back..

"I'll go sort supper.." she forced a smile and turned on her heels to return to the house.
 
Vincent's lips pressed into a tight line and he weakly nodded and watched as she fluttered across the beach and disappeared into the steep paths that led up to the seaside village. He remained there for a while before gathering the things they brought and returning home.

Vincent entered their small home without a word, dropping the bow and arrows next to the door as he stepped in and kicked his boots off. Silently, he shuffled across the floor right to where Lailah stood above the counter and sunk into her back and wrapped his arms around her waist.

His chin rested on her shoulder.

”I love you,” he muttered. ”What are you cooking? Fish, right?”
 
Lailah wasn't one to take pity on herself, despite the countless situations she'd found herself in where the emotion would have been perfectly understandable. But as Van's question echoed on her mind she had to grip the kitchen table and clench her jaw to stop herself from crying and she mentally tortured herself which didn't help matters. Perhaps he didn't trust her as much as she thought. Perhaps she was being naive...perhaps she'd fallen too quickly.

"Stop it Lailah." she growled at herself and pushed herself away from the table to collect what she needed for dinner and she tried not to think too much as she cooked. She heard him come in but kept her eyes on the potatoes she was chopping, unable to look up.

She was rigid for a moment as his arms wrapped around her and she slowly eased. She didn't answer his question, her head shook and she tossed the potatoes into the pan next to the two venison steaks she'd bought at the Allirian market.

Her shoulders rose and fell in a sigh and she frowned and cleared her throat for fear of her voice cracking. She had to ask.

"Van.. Are you sure that you love me?.." she paused and set down the knife. "I just.. If you don't fully trust me I don't understand how you can."
 
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"Of course I trust you, Lai." Vincent's arms tightened around his lover's waist. "I know what I want would put me in danger. Yet, I'm diving headfirst into it."

Of course, it needn't be said that Lailah would follow him. He still asked. Doubted her, if only for the tiniest moment, despite the suffering they'd shared.

"I won't do it without you. I won't go anywhere if you're not there."

He heavily sighed into her shoulder. Of course, he was sure that he loved her.
 
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She was grateful for the tightening of his grip and she gripped the counter, her eyes closing as she listened to him as though she could hear the truth in his voice if she listened hard enough. It had hurt, to be questioned, but she'd have been a hypocrite to make him feel guilty over it when she'd just been doing the same.

Lailah soaked in the radiating warmth for a moment longer before turning within his embrace and settling her hands on his chest to look up at him, instantly at the mercy of his striking blue gaze..

"Then whatever you want to do we do it. We do it carefully, and we do it together. I'm with you, through anything, Van.. Please don't ever doubt that.." she frowned softly and curled her fingers into his shirt and let her head rest in the crook of his neck.
 
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Vincent's gaze settled on the wall, and he smiled as she leaned into him. That's right. Together, nothing would stop them. He completely believed it.

"I wouldn't ever," he gently ruffled her hair, "why don't we discuss it another day? Let me help with dinner."

***
Discuss it they did. Months later, Vincent and Lailah found themselves back in Alliria. They kept a low profile and showed no haste in carrying out their plans. One thing at a time, they reminded themselves. First, they gathered trusted allies. It couldn't even be considered a handful. But the allies they gathered had allies of their own, and over time the pair gradually began to turn those mutual allies onto Alvaro's gang.

One of Vincent's longtime friends, somebody he'd grown up with, and also the same man that was his cornerman during his fighting days, owned a cafe. The pair sat at a table on the cafe's balcony, overlooking the street. They were waiting on somebody- the last ally they needed. A woman that made herself nearly impossible to track down.

A hooded woman stepped out onto the balcony after some time, and as she approached the pair, pulled her hood down, and exchanged a knowing smile with the two.

"Georgiana," Vincent greeted her, "you actually came."

"Of course. It is not often that my little Van asks something of me." Her violet gaze settled on Lailah. "You look well, little dove."

With pleasantries exchanged, Georgiana's expression became stern. She sat at the empty chair between Lailah and Vincent.

"I can be of help to you both. The target you seek- it is the head of a large snake. Not one to be taken so easily." She looked between the two, then down at the table. "That Vigo, the night he attacked my girls, nullified my magic. An oaf like him wouldn't have the knowledge to do it himself, so he had to have had a tool." Her gaze rose to meet Lailah's. "Does anything like that sound familiar to you?"
 
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Lailah had felt physically sick as they waited on Georgiana. Her nerves were obvious, her fingertips tapping idly on the sides of her cup as she watched the street below, feet bouncing anxiously under the table, the skin on her lower lip ragged and torn from her chewing on it.

Vincent had left no blame with Lailah for what had happened at the Bordello, but regardless of the many times he'd reassured her on the matter, she couldn't expect Georgiana to be so forgiving. This mess had begun with her, and the woman had lost everything but her life thanks to her. She'd rehearsed her apologies over and over in her mind for days now, but they all sounded pathetic.

As the woman stepped out onto the balcony, every rehearsal was forgotten and her lips parted to speak but words stuck in her throat and failed her. Her gaze lifted timorously as she and Van spoke, and she felt a tremor of fear as the woman's violet eyes settled on her. Her words eased her instantly however, and she reminded herself to breathe. "And you.." she answered quietly, and as the woman sat, Lailah reached to settle her hand atop hers and squeeze. Whether on purpose or not, the woman would no doubt feel the mental brush of guilt and remorse from the touch, and Lailah quickly pulled her hand away.

"I wasn't privy to much after I went back.." she cleared her throat and laced her fingers together in her lap to stop her fidgeting. "But after that night I heard them speaking of a child, and that whatever it was had worked. Perhaps that's what they meant, I don't know.. I.. Georgiana even if I'd known what they'd been planning they kept me locked away, I couldn't have..." she trailed off and dragged her gaze back to the street, unable to look at her. How foolish she'd been to believe that being under house arrest had been her only punishment..
 
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Georgiana, after listening to what Lailah had to say, sat for only a few seconds in silence. It must have been an eternity for the little dove. The woman leaned across the table, gently smiling, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lailah’s ear.

“You must’ve been through a lot.” Of course, she had felt Lailah’s emotions. Even as the tip of her finger grazed Lailah’s cheek as she tucked the hair behind her ear. Georgiana understood the nature of it immediately. She had, for years, kept her own abilities a closely guarded secret. Not close enough, apparently.

Was she in her forties? Fifties? Not even Van knew. She hardly looked to have aged a day in all the years he knew her.

“Anyway, it is something we must keep in our minds. If Vigo can negate my magic at will, I’m utterly powerless.” The woman’s posture straightened, and as she spoke her stunningly violet eyes swept between the pair. “What other allies do we have?”

”Several fighters from the Ring would rise up if we were to ever assault the gang. Of course, Darmian, this cafe’s owner.”

“Fellow with the limp?”

”Aye,” Vincent nodded. ”I’ve an old friend in the city guard- a captain- that feeds valuable information. I’ve seen some of the girls. They work in Jamrock places now, some even in a couple Matones establishments.”

They could act soon, but they would have to move just as carefully as they had been.
 
Lailah swallowed nervously as the woman reached toward her, her shoulders tensing as she felt her fingertips curl the hair around her ear and she wondered if she'd revealed the pointed tip of it on purpose. Her cheeks flushed and she glanced to Vincent, letting herself ease as she listened to them both speak.

She chewed idly on her lip as Vincent spoke of their allies, her grey eyes moving between them. "If they can affect your magic, perhaps Van can nullify theirs?.." she arched a brow and looked to him, unsure if he'd ever tried projecting it.. "Being a void is a power in itself, it's good defence.." she reasoned with a short shrug.

"I don't know what use I can be..Bait, perhaps. I don't have any allies to call on." she cleared her throat. It was a poor thing to admit for someone of Lailah's age to have no other friends to call upon, and her lips twisted awkwardly. "There are some who are unhappy with how things are, some that might be easily persuaded to rise up, though it may be too much of a risk to try.." she suggested quietly.
 
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"Well, maybe. I don't even know my own power that well." Mostly from never having to use it. Vincent's brow furrowed. He hadn't ever thought of it as something to be controlled or applied so much as just a... natural defense.

"No," he was quick to turn down the suggestion, "not bait. There are smarter ways than to make yourself vulnerable."

As his gaze switched between the two women, he rested his chin in the palm of his hand, and rhythmically tapped the table with a finger. He thought in silence for several seconds. "Persuading others is safer for you. The more enemies we can create for the Matones, the better it is for us. The easier it'll make our job."
 
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Lailah glanced to him as he dismissed her suggestion, and she couldn't help but allow her lips to twist ever-so-slightly at his response.

"Alright, I can do that.." she agreed calmly and reached a hand to settle over his drumming fingertips, but she pulled her hand back with a glance to Georgiana when she caught herself, and she cleared her throat quietly.

"Where did you go?.." she asked the woman curiously.. "Do you have a safe place to stay?"
 
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"The Bayou to the south," Georgiana answered. "I come from a coven of witches. There, I was able to regain my strength. To say it's safe, however..." Her voice trailed off. Obviously, it was a stretch. "I'm staying at a small inn now. By the docks."

Vincent wore a wry smile and looked out over the balcony. Things felt hopeful now, with Georgiana here. Everyone he'd always knew would look to Georgiana for advice and help when things got difficult. He had been no exception.

The older woman's expression softened as she looked at the two, then she pushed her chair back and slowly rose.

"I'll be ready for when you need me. You two, stay safe." And with that, she left without another word. Quiet, like the dead.

Vincent leaned forward and looked down at the cup of tea, which had gone cold now, that was in front of him.

"It really feels like we can do it."
 
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Lailah's lips curled as she watched Georgiana rise. "You too. Thank you, Georgiana.." she smiled softly after her and turned to Vincent when he spoke.

"It does." she laughed under her breath, planting her elbows onto the table and bowing her head as her fingers ran into her snowy hair for a moment. The chance of living in peace, in happiness, was one she'd grab with both hands, but her grip had to be delicate at the risk of everything shattering. It was a risk, but it was less of a risk today than it had been yesterday.

"We can." she nodded and looked up at him pensively. There was no need to remind him of how careful they had to be. Lailah was out of chances, they'd crush her and everything around her. The thought of losing the one thing she gave a fuck about made her rise from her seat and worm her way onto his lap to wrap her arms around his neck.

"There's a place where I can watch the apartment safely.. I'll start watching the comings and goings, and when I'm sure it's safe I'll follow. There are two or three that I might be able to convince.."
 
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Vincent nodded, smiling as she relocated herself onto his lap. He trusted her with it. He knew that she didn't need to be reminded about their situation. Still, the fear of failure lingered. The fear of what would happen to him. The fear of what would happen to the few friends that he had gotten involved. The fear of what would happen to her.

They'd made it this far together. Vincent felt, from the bottom of his heart, that the two couldn't be stopped.

"Okay," he eased up and smiled, "I'll be waiting on good news."

He pulled her closer to him, tightly wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I'm happy to be back in the city," he mused. "It's home."
 
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Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. She sunk into the warmth of him and her cheek nuzzled against his hair as she squeezed him back. She felt her worries lose their keen sting and her optimism raise its head from the dirt. Perhaps it had been there all along, but without some love it was trapped, like crystals in a stone.

"Hm.." she smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his head. "You are home." She had lived in the city for four years, but it had never been home to her, not with the people who surrounded her, who used and tormented her and made sure she feared them. Since being cast from the skies, she'd had no real home until the little house by the beach. There she felt safe, but she realised that it'd been his doing for accepting her as she was, rather than the walls themselves.

She slipped from his lap, leaving a chaste kiss on his cheek before pulling up her hood and heading for the door. "Love you, Van." she told him without looking back, and slipped silently down the stairs and out onto the street. Caliane's apartment wasn't far, and though she wasn't home, Lailah scaled the side of the building from awning to balcony where she'd station herself to keep an eye on the building across the street. If the avariel returned at any point, Lailah was certain she wouldn't mind her intrusion.

The market stalls below sat like a cluster of hens in the centre of the little square, and Lailah watched the rabble until the setting sun cast it's rosy hue across the venders' dwindled wares as they packed up for the night. It was then she noticed a familiar figure stepping out onto the street, ready to begin his rounds, rounds she knew well.

And so Lailah climbed down from the balcony and stuck to the shadows as she followed him, ensuring she wasn't the only one following him before finding him in a quiet alleyway.

"Psst."

The cloaked figure froze and turned, dagger already in his hand as he stared around wildly for the source. He eased only for a moment as Lailah stepped onto his path and lowered her hood. "Hey Ren.." she smiled softly, glancing to the wavering blade in his hand.

"Lailah? What are you - you shouldn't be here? I- We're supposed to bring you in if we see you, I.. I need to take you in." he breathed in panic and shook his head, clearly fighting with himself over the predicament. Renley was another youngster that Alvaro and his men had picked up off of the street to use and manipulate, to do the leg work, a maltreated minion bullied into doing whatever he was told in fear of being murdered if he refused. He was just a kid, and Lailah had taken him under her wing.

"I know you do. That's okay." she assured, lifting her hand to show that she was unarmed as she approached him carefully. "Just let me talk to you first, okay? I want to make sure you're alright..". His blade lowered slightly and he frowned at her with a short nod. She smiled warmly as his hand fell to his side, and she stepped up to him to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug.

"I've missed you kid.." she sighed, but there was a bite of hot pain and a strange punch of pressure to her stomach, and Lailah pulled in a quiet gasp that caught in her throat. Her arms unfurled from him and she stepped back, her hand pressing to her abdomen and coming away slick with crimson. She stared at it for a moment and looked at him with glassy grey eyes.

Ren's face blanched of colour and the bloody dagger clattered to the cobbled street. "Fuck, FUCK, Lailah, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry, fuck." he reached to grab her as she staggered and she leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor, clutching hold of the wound, her heart thundering in panic. "What have I done? What can I do?"

"It's alright.." she breathed out in a grimace, reaching to press a hand to his ashen face, and her eyes now swirling like smoke locked on his and his blues mimicked as she sought to calm his panic.. "I'm alright." she told him and his panic eased at once.

"I'm so sorry Lailah. I panicked. He'll kill me if he knows I saw you and let you go, he has ways of finding out if we're lying.." he sighed deeply, his hand pressing on top of hers "Let me get you to a medic."

"No medics, Ren. I need you to trust me, and I need you to speak with Eli and Marcus and nobody else." she frowned, trying to breathe as deeply as she could without causing the pain to sharpen. She could feel the blood seeping through her fingers, and her energy with it. "I have friends who are going to help me go after Vigo, and I need you.. You will help me won't you?.." she asked, ensuring that he felt safe, assured, calm, that he wanted to help her, that it was the right thing to do. His eyes didn't blink as he nodded to her and she forced a smile.

"Yes, but what about Alvaro?..You know he's alive, don't you?.."

Now Lailah paled a little more if that was at all possible, but she upheld her wavering smile and her eyes blinked heavily. "Even so.. I need you to be on my side. Convince the others for me, but be careful please, Ren." The boy nodded to her and reached an arm around her to help her back to her feet and she leaned heavily on him.

"Tell me where to take you at least." Lailah guided him through the darkening streets, careful to pause at each corner until she reached the cafe.

"Leave me here." she insisted on the street, but he was already helping her inside and she was too drowsy now to put up much of a protest.

"Hello? Is anyone here? I need some help!" Ren called out in hope.
 
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"And I you," he gently responded and watched her leave. Vincent caught only a fleeting image of her as she crossed the street. With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet and collected their cups before going inside.

During the time she was gone, Vincent began to spread the word to the other fighters. The biggest challenge for him was convincing the most influential fighter, the orc that had dethroned Vincent as king of the pits, Ka'goth. With the orc and those that would follow him on their side, the number of allies they had going into the inevitable battle rapidly grew.

Then he went to the girls that had scattered after the raid, spreading word of what was to come. In doing that, he learned of Alvaro's survival. It had been unexpected, to say the least, like a loose rock along a narrow mountainous footpath. How they stepped going forward would determine if they continued down their rocky path or plummet to death.

Vincent was quick to return to the cafe, returning well before Lailah. There he sat and talked with Darmian until the doors of the cafe violently swung in. At the boy's pleading, the two rushed down the stairs. For a moment, Vincent froze. Lailah, far paler than what she normally was, stood in front of him a staggering, bloody mess.

"Lai..." He rushed to his lover's aid, supporting her from the other side as Darmian quickly cleared a table. Ren and Vincent carried her over where she was gently laid on the tabletop. Darmian moved to close the curtains at the storefront.

"Rags, Darmian!" Vincent barked as he ripped a large hole in Lailah's shirt. Darmian, despite his bum leg, was quick to gather what Vincent needed. "Fetch water and dressing. Go to my room- in the top drawer next to my bed, there is a small leather case. Bring it."

As Darmian rushed off, Vincent quickly pressed down on the wound with the rag, and turned his gaze to Ren. The boy was shaking where he stood, and looked ready to dash out at any moment.

"Don't you move a fucking step," Vincent hissed. "You're going to tell me what happened."
 
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Lailah's brow furrowed with a grimace as she was laid down on the table. She was shivering despite the fine glistening sheen of sweat that had bloomed over her pearly skin, but she groaned in protest.. "I don't need the fuss.." she assured, but for the life of her she couldn't stop her eyes from trying to close.

The wound wasn't fatal as it was, but like most beings, if left to bleed out she'd die, and she knew that wasn't about to happen. She felt numb with cold and to the pain, and all she wanted was warmth and sleep. "I'm f-fine. Will you get me a blanket, Van?" she asked, her hand reaching toward his face but she couldn't quite find it as her vision darkened around the edges.

"It's not his fault." she breathed and her eyes rolled as sleep threatened to take over.

Ren glanced toward the door and back to Lailah, and then to Vincent.. "I shouldn't be here. She's going to be alright, ent she?.." he asked, his words quick with rising panic once again. "Shit.." he whined, his hand running into his hair.

"It is my fault, I'm sorry - I'm so sorry. We, we're supposed to bring her in i-i-if we catch sight of her. Sh-she was my friend and.. I panicked, shit, I'm so fuckin' sorry Lailah. I din't mean it.."
 
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"Keep talking, love." Vincent cooed at Lailah, "Don't you worry, you'll be all wrapped up here in a bit. Just hang on for me, Lai."

He kept steady pressure over the wound, and his free hand cupped her cheek, tilting her face to meet his gaze. Though trying, his stoic veneer cracked and worry plagued his features. His heart thundered in his chest. It took everything to keep his hands still.

Vincent twisted to face Ren. He lifted his hand from Lailah's cheek to point at a stool by the counter.

"Sit," he seethed. Darmian returned shortly after with everything Vincent had asked for.

The pair worked to staunch the bleeding, and when it had, they carefully began cleaning with the water. As Darmian worked to clean around the wound, Vincent opened up the leather case. Inside were labeled vials. He quickly rummaged through them before picking one out. He held it to the light, staring at it for a moment.

"This'll sting," he warned and uncorked the vial. Without wasting any time, he poured the clear solution over the wound. After they returned to the city, Vincent was had the time and materials needed to prepare things like this. He had a teacher, several years ago, that had taught him the recipe for a solution that worked wonder in cleaning open wounds. 'Course, it burned like hell.

He thought the jolt would do good for Lailah to keep her senses.

After a few more minutes of diligent care, the wound was dressed. Vincent stepped back and wiped the back of his thumb over his sweaty brow, leaving a faint bloody smudge over his forehead. He let out a heavy sigh and caught Ren out of the corner of his eye, just now remembering his presence.

He turned and stomped towards the boy, grasping him and lifting him off the stool by the collar of his shirt.

"Did you do that?" He hissed. Ren was still with fear, silenced as he met Vincent's furious, electric gaze. He shook the boy. "Speak! Before I make it so you can't."
 
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