Private Tales Money Talks

[Vincent]

Alliria

A crowd of spectators gathered around a shoddily-build pit in the basement of the Femme Fatale. A bookie stood in front of a chalkboard where scribbled on was the fights and bets for the night. The basement was a mess, with empty flagons, broken glass, and all manner of liquids and food scattered about.

At the center of the pit stood a rugged man of average height, across from him a hulking orc. Both were bruised and bleeding from the face, though the human man was worse off. The fighters stared each other down for a moment longer before both lunged forward. The human dug his toes under the sand in the pit, kicking it up towards the orc's face as he attempted a wild haymaker. The orc growled and shouted as his fist tore through the air, barely missing the human as he deftly swayed under the wide punch.

A flurry of rapid punches beat against the orc's ribs, knuckles slapping against skin audible over the spectators' uproar to those closest to the fight. The orc twisted and wildly punched in the human's direction. For his size, the green-skin moved with impressive speed, and though the human blocked the blow, his arms were knocked away. A second straight punch followed the wild swing.

The clamor that followed threatened to take the entire building down.

"AND THE WINNER, AND NEW CHAMPION OF THE RING,"

The well-dressed announcer at the center of the ring dramatically swung his arm towards the orc.

"IS THE DESTROYER, KA'GOTH!"
​

The human was dragged out by his cornerman, his limbs limp and head slack. As he was taken to a side room that he used to prepare for the fight, and the door closed behind them, the man's head snapped up. He effortlessly gained his footing and triumphantly snorted.

"Right," the man cracked his neck and walked across the room to look at himself in a broken, dirty mirror. Bruised and battered, but not seriously injured. Even where the last punch had "landed", there was hardly a bruise. He smirked at himself before getting dressed. "What were the odds, again?"

"Fifteen-to-one," the cornerman that stood in front of the door answered. Silence filled the room. "Well done, Van."

And they laughed.

****​

Vincent waited for the basement to clear before exiting. He wore an off-white collared shirt and dark trousers. As he left the side room, he covered himself with a large fur-collared cloak. A heavy, heavy purse of coins was securely tied to his belt. He hadn't thrown a fight before, but when the fight organizers make an offer like that, well, how could he refuse?

He made his way across the basement, offering short goodbyes to those that remained to clean up and made his way up the stairs and into the Femme Fatale's first floor. Vincent stepped out into the street where a cold sea breeze carried the smell of stench and caused the bottom of his cloak to flap. He hated the smell, but it was home.

 

[Lailah]

The heavy bag of gold that she passed between her hands was only a third hers, and she tossed it on counter with a confident smirk “Fifteen gold on the human, Charley..” she drummed her hands on the wood as she waited not so patiently for her slip, craning her neck to watch for the fight starting.

“Careful doll, some risky business you’ve got goin’ over there.” he muttered dryly with a nod toward the two men she was sharing a table with as he counted the coins out.

“Ack they’re harmless.” .. They weren’t, and Charley gave her a look that said he doubted as much. “I’ll collect the winnings when it’s through and they’ll be out of my hair, don’t fret yourself.” She reached forward and ruffled the older man’s greying hair before snatching the betting slip with a wink. The man grinned and shook his head as she sauntered back to her table.

The men glanced up at her, then down at the slip that she slammed on the sticky surface of the table, and continued with their huddled conversation, adding to the Femme Fatale’s constant rabble. They didn’t look convinced, but they’d each agreed to part with five gold on the promise of a healthy payout. “Told you, he’s a sure thing.” she grinned at the pair as she leaned on the table, drumming her fingertips.

“Fuckin’ better be, lass.” The grisliest of the two rose a brow at her, his tone void of amusement. Lailah threw back her whisky before shouldering her way to the front of the crowd as the fighters were announced.

She draped her arms over the railing, and chewed on her lip as she watched, grimacing and watching through one eye most of the time. Lailah joined in with the uproar, her voice rising above the crowd as she watched the human’s fist pummel into the Orc’s ribs, her own fists banging down on the splintering wood.

There was a brief lull of quiet as the human fell, the vast majority of the crowd paling ever-so-slightly with horrorstruck shock before reanimating with fury, some even launching their own private fistfights. None were paler than Lailah, and she stared expressionlessly at the limp man sprawled in the dirt, as though she could somehow will him to get back up and fight.

"Shit.." her hands ran into her short, white locks and gripped at it as she searched her mind for some sort of solution to her now much larger problem. She looked over her shoulder, catching the eyes of both burly men who were craning their necks over the crowd as they barged their way toward her. A quick glance was shot toward the stairs, and a stout finger was pointed at her in warning as the pair tried to shove their way in toward the ring.

"Don't you fucking da--" Lailah was off before he could get the last word out and all she heard was a growl in fury instead. She was far smaller and much more lithe, her slender frame sliding between bodies and shuffling through crowds, ducking under fights shoving those she could out of her way with hurried apology. The woman was in the street before the two men had made it to the foot of the stairs, and she found herself an alleyway to hide in until the coast was clear.

When the street sounded quiet, Lailah pulled up the black hood of her coat and peeked out, glancing quickly each way before stepping out, her heeled boots clicking with each hasty step. The sound of much heavier footsteps gave her reason to pause and look over her shoulder, her grey eyes widening slightly at the grinning men and the glint of a dagger as it was waved at her with far more amusement than she'd ever known them to have.

The moment she started off at a run was the moment Vincent stepped out into the street and she collided with him so hard that she went straight down with a sharp cry in shock and a growl in pain as she landed. She peered up at him from under her hood with quick breaths escaping her lungs and a frown of recognition crossing her face. Her gaze, naturally, fell briefly to the coin purse he wore on his belt, and her expression paused with realisation and her head shook.. "Oh you bastard.."

She didn't have time to scramble to her feet, two sets of boots thundered to a halt and she was grabbed up by the back of her collar like a mischievous kitten, and she made a meep of a sound that supported that notion.

"Good job, lad." Marcus grunted with merriment. "We'll take it from here. She's had a bit much to drink." he assured as he dragged the svelte woman back against his chest into a more secure grip from which she kicked out into thin air. "There's a good lass. Time teh get home."

"They cheated! It's not my fault you fucking MORON!" she groaned and threw her head back to crack the man's nose, but with his grunt in fury his grip only tightened and the other man attempted to grip hold of her feet only to receive a swift boot to the face and he crumpled to the ground.

"A LITTLE HELP!?" Lailah snapped impatiently as she squirmed.

 

[Vincent]

Right, seventy-five percent to the coffer and the rest would be pocketed as usu-

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt, and he stumbled back several steps, barely managing to keep on his feet as the woman clattered against his side. Startled by the collision, he missed the remark that passed under her breath.

"Good job, lad. We'll take it from here. She's had a bit much to drink."

As he watched them seize the woman, Vincent held up his hands and stifled a smirk. "By all means, don't let me stop yous." The former champion backpedaled a few steps before turning on his heels to expedite himself from the scuffle.

"They cheated! It's not my fault you fucking MORON!"

Ooh, sorry, lass. He snorted, entertained by the sounds of a struggle behind him.

"A LITTLE HELP?"

Vincent came to a sudden stop, his interest now piqued. The fighter turned to face her, a devilish grin across his features. He idly picked under his forefinger's nail with his thumb, his other hand on his hip. He looked down his nose at her, bruised face full of confidence. He knew he had control of this situation. Now, to negotiate a price.

"How much?" He smirked.

 

[Lailah]

"HOW MUCH?!" she growled back at the man incredulously, her eyes dragged from him as she was spun back into the direction of Marcus' path. She threw her head back again, but her move was anticipated and she hit nothing but the burly man's shoulder.. "You just.. " squirm "Lost me.." kick.. "Sixty gold!" she barked at him, and the rest of her words were muffled behind a gloved hand as the pair staggered toward the alleyway with her.

"S'alright love - we'll getcha home.." Jacob, the younger but by no means smaller of the two grinned at her despite the bloody nose as he wrapped his arms firmly around her legs. Marcus wasn't interested in what she had to say, she'd spun them enough stories, made them enough promises, lost them enough gold. The man's patience had run out, and now no gold or trinkets was going to be enough payment.

Lailah's head shook frantically trying to shake the hand from her mouth and she screamed a sound of frustration into his palm, her body rigid and clenched fists pinned to her sides. Her mouth opened and teeth clamped down on as much hand as she could, piercing through glove and skin until blood was drawn.

"Cunt!!" Marcus bellowed and yanked his hand free of her jaw to curl his fingers into her snowy hair and yank brutally. Lailah grimaced, eyes the colour of angry storm clouds staring up at the ghastly man defiantly, but the look on his face was void of mercy. "I'm going to enjoy this little bird." he grunted at her, and Lailah reverted back to pleading as her muscles grew tired of their fight.

"I'll get it back! One last chance. Give me three days!....Two?...Alright one! Fuck!" They rounded into the alley and she started wriggling again.

"VINCENT YOU CHEATING PRICK!!"

 

[Vincent]

Vincent’s lips scrunched in an impish smirk and his shoulders shook with mirth. He flicked a small speck of dirt away as he finished cleaning under his fingernail. He followed the three into the alley, standing where the narrow passage opened to the street and folded his arms.

"So, ya’ve got nothing to pay with,” he rubbed his chin as if deeply contemplating something. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “How ‘bout I help ya’ in exchange for a favor?”

His demeanor changed, his eyes wolfishly squinting as his gaze switched between the two burly men.

“Sounds good to me, how ‘bout you?”

 

[Lailah]

Both men turned to glare at Vincent as he followed them into the alley. It simply wasn't the done thing. Alleyways were for shady shit and they eyed the man with incredulity and Lailah glowered as she squirmed relentlessly. "Are you fucking serious!?"

"Who the fuck are you?!" Marcus snapped at him.. "I've already told you we're handling this one, Now fuck oOW!" Marcus loosed one arm from his grip on the girl to slam it to his nose as it exploded on his face as Lailah used the distraction to smash the back of her head into his face once more. Another "FFFUCK" was muffled into his bloodied glove, and he struggled to keep hold of her as her elbow hammered again and again into his ribs until he gave up and dropped her.

Jacob attempted to keep hold of her legs, but she threw her arms forward to grip hold of his shoulders and rolled herself backwards to vault him into the wall, forcing him to let go. The second she got up to run, her hair was grabbed for a second time and she was yanked backwards to meet the pommel of a blade as it struck the back of her head. Her body fell limp with dizziness and she tried to keep hold of her consciousness even as she hit the cobbles with a groan.. "Sounds good.." she mumbled, her arms trembling as she tried to push herself back up.

Marcus kicked over a stack of crates in fury as the blood flowed freely from his broken nose and he spat before lifting his eyes and setting them furiously on Vincent.

"Won't warn you again boy." the man snarled and pointed a fat finger at him as he pressed Lailah back down into the cobbles with his boot.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent snickered under his breath as he slowly made his way deeper into the alley, greatly amused at the young woman's struggle. Just when she was about to make a run for it - yank! - she was pulled back by her hair.

Oh, almost!

Bashing her over the head with the pommel of his small blade was a tad distasteful, a bit unnecessary as well. Too likely to kill somebody. It's never good to kill debtors that don't have a spouse or next of kin to turn to next.

Sounds good...

That was all that needed to be said. The former champion subtly raised his chin, smug grin smeared across his face.

"Won't warn you again, boy."

"Wouldn't do a lick of good anyways," he gruffly chuckled and raised his hands, palms out, level with his chest, "C'mon, then."

It was hard to tell Marcus and Jacob apart. Both were more barrel-like than man-like, with blinding appearances. Vincent had seen some elves that possessed blinding, ethereal beauty... but these fellows were far on the opposite end of that particular spectrum. Marcus was keen to oblige the shorter man, opening with a heavy straight right hand almost identical to the "knockout" blow delivered by the orc Ka'goth. He had followed the orc's punch before and could just as well now.

The punch was caught with no effort on Vincent's part. One hand gripped the inside of Marcus' wrist while the other slapped down above his elbow. A scream echoed in the alley as, in a swift motion, he pulled Marcus' forearm back until his elbow broke. He used the dominant position to throw Marcus to the ground and brutally stomped his foot down on Marcus' shoulder while yanking the arm back. Another bloodcurdling cry bounced off the walls as the shoulder dislocated.

Vincent let the arm limply fall next to the whimpering man and turned to Jacob, his demeanor stone-cold.

"I like deals," his jaw tightly clenched, "...I won't beat the life out of ya'. But ya'd have to do something for me in return," he jabbed a thumb down at Marcus, "take your mate and fuck off. Deal?"

 

[Lailah]

She felt warm blood trickling behind her ear, following the curve of her jaw and racing to meet the cobbles in crimson droplets. Lailah blinked hard, trying to clear the black dots that threatened to take over her vision, and she shook the dizziness from her mind. She felt sick. Fucking concussion.

"Wanker." she grumbled to the man, and his boot twisted maliciously into her back before he lifted it to confront Vincent. Lailah forced herself up onto her elbows and lifted her head to squint up at the altercation..

"Better not fucking lose this time, Mister Sure Thing.." she muttered under her breath, her words drowsy and slightly slurred. As soon as the fight started, it was clear it wasn't going in Marcus' favour, and Jacob gripped Lailah by the scruff of the neck and hauled her to her feet, stabilising her as her knees buckled. His blade tapped apprehensively on his thigh as they both watched and winced at the snapping and popping of bones.

"Fuck me.." Lailah closed her eyes tightly and looked away, the sound of Marcus' screams a horrifically irritating piece of music to her sensitive ears.

She could tell by the quickness of Jacob's breaths that he was quickly recalculating his odds, and the dagger wavered as he lifted it in a tremulous grip to point at Vincent, giving Lailah a shake in threat "I'll fuckin‘.... I'll.." he stammered, the blade directed between Lailah's neck and Vincent's chest as he considered what exactly he was about to 'fuckin' do. His eyes fell briefly to Marcus, having never before seen the man whimper, and he swallowed his pride..

"I'll just..fuckin' go.." he agreed with a quick nod and shoved Lailah hard against the wall before rushing forward to drag Marcus up with considerable effort, ignoring the screams as he gripped him by the shoulder. Once on his feet, the two men stumbled their way out of the alley, grunting something about 'that little bitch'.

Lailah held onto the wall, her forehead pressed against it and her eyes closed as she tried to slow her thundering heart and catch a few deep breaths, a dry "Thanks." muttered begrudgingly under her breath.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent stood, arms folded as the two men passed him out of the alley. After he was sure they’d left down the street, he turned to face the young woman.

”Don’t thank me yet. Y’owe me,” he grimaced, ”Did y’know that those men work for La Puta Madre?”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that the mercantile class of Alliria had close ties to the underground, and La Puta Madre was an individual that walked on both sides. Enigmatic, mysterious, with only a select few knowing their identity, La Puta Madre was a name that sent chills down even Vincent’s spine. He had the displeasure of occasionally handling an odd-job for them and therefore had seen firsthand that their notoriety was well-earned.

”Recognized the older one,” he scoffed, ”And ya’, what, owe them money?”

Vincent’s stomach dropped and a wave nausea crashed against him. He’d just gotten himself involved in something rather difficult.

 

[Lailah]

A quiet groan worked it's way out of her throat as he reminded her of the mountain of shit she was in, and she stepped away from the wall with a stagger that had her quickly reconsider her ability to balance. She leaned her shoulder a little more casually against it instead.. "First of all - owe you??.." she snorted and laughed under her breath as she ran her fingertips into her hair to press them against the bleeding wound behind her ear with a wince.

"I don't owe you damn thing. Your own damn fault I'm in this mess." she huffed sharply, removing her hand from her head and glancing down at the slick crimson that coated her fingers with a sneer. "I know you threw that fight." she frowned at him and folded her arms, a few scarlet lines of blood following the contours of her neck and disappearing under her collar. She was trying her best not to let her eyes roll with the dizziness but she knew she was slumping a little.

"Secondly. I'm aware. Thanks. I.. might've stolen something from the wrong people a few weeks ago. And had you won that fucking fight like you were supposed to my debt would have been cleared, and I could've been on a boat out of this shit heap tonight."

Lailah pushed herself from the wall and moved toward him, her hand held out palm up and her fingers flexing toward her.. "So if you could just hand over my winnings.. I'll be... on my.." she paused and held up a finger as though asking him to wait, and she turned to throw an arm against the wall again as she vomited, finger still held in the air toward him.

"Way.." she groaned as she dropped the hand to drag the back of her wrist across her lips.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent sputtered a shrill laugh, holding his gut and wiping his eyes with a finger afterwards.

”Sorry,” he said, still winding down from the outburst, ”It’s just funny, blaming me for your gamble.” Though, she was right. He should have ran circles around the orc.

He narrowed his eyes at her. She was in no position to demand anything of him. Maybe Jacob had hit her head a bit too hard.

Though he didn’t show it, he was anxious for having gotten in between La Puta Madre’s peons and the young woman. Once word reached La Puta Madre, and it would, Vincent would be looking over his shoulder until they inevitably found him. Taking a boat out of Alliria didn’t seem to be an awful idea.

”Forget it. Not happening. You should worry about leaving this city.”

 

[Lailah]

Lailah lifted her head and turned to him to glare venomously. “Funny?... And what exactly is funny about it?!” she demanded as she straightened herself and strode toward him.

“If I have shit to worry about then so do you, ya big dumb fuck!” she stood in front of him, her hands set on her hips. “You’re involved now too, whether you like it or not. And you fuckin’ deserve it after the shit you pulled.” she huffed and started pacing with a muttering of ‘greedy bastard’ under her breath as she shook her head incredulously, pinching the bridge of her nose as her head pounded.

“Haw haw haw..” Lailah mocked with a snort. “Bet you don’t find it fucking funny now..” she mumbled.

She turned to lean her back against the wall, her arms folding across her chest and her nose wrinkling at him. “Where am I supposed to go exactly? They took my weapons, I don’t have two coins to rub together now.” she frowned and dropped her gaze to her feet..

 

[Vincent]

Vincent scowled, knowing she was right. If anything, he was in a far more dire situation given his name would have been known. He folded his arms and began to rhythmically tap his finger against his bicep. He had money, and while he was less expendable than most, La Puta Madre wouldn't have any qualms in having him killed. He swore under his breath.

"Hell if I know. Figure out yer own situation."

His expression soured further. Did she think the sad puppy routine would work on him?

"Quit that shit!" he snapped, and stared her down. After several seconds of silence, he relented. "I know a place. Follow me if ya' care, it don't matter."

His hand jerked in a dismissive wave and he turned to leave the alley.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah's shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh as he snapped at her and her frown deepened. There she was, injured, sad, hopeless, alone.. Of course it would fucking work on him. Only her eyes rose to him, giving her the look of a guilt-ridden pup begging for a scrap of meat. She wasn't above it, she had absolutely nothing to lose.

The second he'd turned away from her, her lips curled and her teeth flashed a bright grin at his back as she watched him saunter off. She pushed herself from the wall and shuffled after him, pulling up her black hood and glancing up and down the street as she stepped out onto it. It was empty save for a few drunk scumbags staggering home.

"So how much did you get exactly?.." she asked begrudgingly as she caught up to him and tried to match his pace. "Where we goin'?... Is there food?... Haven't eaten in two days."

 

[Vincent]

"Wouldn't ya' like to know," he grumbled. It was a lot.

"The Lucky Lady," it was a high-class inn and brothel within Alliria's Inner City. Vincent had been taken in there from a young age, and though he didn't live there now, he oft found himself scurrying back whenever he was in trouble, much to the proprietor's chagrin. "There's food, but only if you don't speak."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. A good night had turned unexpectedly sour. He shouldn't have stepped in. It wasn't like him to intervene in scuffles like that, especially when there was nothing to gain. Glancing back over his shoulder, he scowled.

She would likely get her barings and leave as soon as she could before he could even think of cashing his favor in.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah screwed her face up at his answer and her head shook.. "If I don't speak? The fuck sort of place is it?.." she asked in confusion.

"Whatever. Anyway. A decent meal and a feather bed for the night is the least you can do for me." she nudged him in the ribs and hoped it hurt. Lailah was bold and she'd take what she could get.

"Tomorrow I can get to work on getting myself some coin and getting out of this dump before I get strung up." she snorted, prodding at the throbbing pain in her temple..

"Maybe you could throw in a couple of drinks too.." her lips pursed and she grinned at up at him, knowing fine well she was pushing her luck, but she could at least try to look cute despite her plan to loot the bastard.

 

[Vincent]

"It's the type of place where ya' don't talk to anyone."

He scowled and rubbed his ribs under his cloak. "If I get'ya food and a bed, would ya' shut up?"

At her remark about the drinks, he merely cast a sideways scowl her direction and quietly groaned. Yeah, right. Not where they were going.

As they spent a painfully long time walking, the scenery went from mud and wood to cobbled streets and stone buildings. The distinction between Inner City Alliria and, well, everywhere else was stark. Arriving at a large building with tall windows and double doors, Vincent turned on his heels and stuck a hand out to stop her from walking any further.

"No. Talking."

He turned and cracked the doors open just enough for them to subtly pass through. The inside was dimly lit by a chandelier, the lacquered floors covered with expensive rugs—ornate furniture decorated the foyer. There was no bar, but the patrons inside (a surprising amount for the hour) had drinks anyways. Each guest had a woman or a man with them. A few heads had turned at their entrance, those noticing casting scows, and quiet mutterings their way.

"Sir. Madame." A well-endowed young woman in an immodest dress approached the two. She looked to be visibly uncomfortable and clasped her hands together against her stomach as she came to a halt in front of them. Vincent and Lailah, very obviously, did not fit in with the rest of the patrons. There were mostly fat old men, but if one was to pick out every customer, they'd find a bit of everything. Regardless, they were all expensively dressed. "Pardon, but perhaps you've mistakenly entered?"

Vincent shook his head, "I'm here to see Mother. Tell her it is Van."

Reluctantly, the courtesan left and returned in minutes that instead felt like an eternity. She quietly beckoned them to follow and led them up one side of a set of twin stairs and through a long hallway. Quiet moans, muffled grunts, and other questionable noises could be heard past several of the doors.

As they arrived in an office, the door closed behind them. Sitting behind a large desk, lit candle atop it, a tall, mature woman stared the two down. A long, skinny pipe rested between her fingers.

"Little Van," she said, and despite her gaze being set solely on Lailah, Vincent stiffened regardless. Sharp eyes imperiously stared the young woman down for a moment before flicking up and down. Vincent had seen it all too well. Assessing her qualities. Mother had a way of telling what a woman looked like under her clothes. Rare was the occasion where her mental image was wrong. "And you are...?"

 

[Lailah]

Shut up?!.. Lailah cast him a look of feigned indignation, her hand on her chest and her lips parting to let out a huff of a laugh. "Wow.. Rude.." her brow knit and her head shook as she looked away from him with a grin to herself. Good. She hoped she was getting on his fucking nerves, he deserved as much.

"Fine." she resigned, and spent the rest of the journey looking over her shoulder and peeking down streets from under her hood, every now and then skipping to keep up with him. She'd been sleeping on a floor for the past three nights, the prospect of a comfortable night's sleep was enough to keep her to her word.

Lailah looked up at the building curiously, it wasn't one that she recognised but her brow quirked as it hadn't exactly been what she'd expected. She almost walked into him as he stopped and raised his hand in front of her, her eyes rolling at his words as she mocked him again, putting on her best deep voice and serious face as she repeated his order. "Yeah yeah.. 'No talking', I get it." she grumbled and shoved his hand away.

The moment she'd stepped inside, her mouth fell open and her eyes scanned around at the half denuded men and woman and their patrons. She almost spoke, almost, but she managed to look up at the man with the widest grin instead, only just biting back the remark that danced on the tip of her tongue. Her attention turned to the busty female that approached and she blinked a few times, her throat clearing as once again, she kept her thoughts to herself. She smiled, no, simpered at the woman as her eyes folded over without a hint of discretion, a subtle wink offered in approval.

She couldn't help but give a quick nudge nudge to Vincent's ribs in amusement as the woman turned away, but her expression paused as she realised what he'd said.. "Wait, Mother?" she questioned quietly from the side of her mouth.

Lailah found the looks they received nothing short of hilarious and she waggled her eyebrows at some, and grinned at others. Clearly, she wasn't quite used to such surroundings, but it had been one of the more entertaining situations she'd found herself in of late. "Offt..She's definitely faking.." she muttered under her breath to herself as they climbed the steps to the tune of some over enthusiastic lament that made her chuckle.

She slunk into the office behind Vincent and stood by his side as she settled her gaze on the woman she assumed must be the ‘Mother’ he was talking about. Her lips twisted as he was addressed as ‘little Van’ but she refrained from elbowing him again given the woman’s attention seemed to be on her.

Lailah stared back, her brow quirking at her with a shimmer of amusement in her eyes as the woman not-so-subtly undressed her with her eyes. As the question came, she looked to Vincent and tilted her head before turning back to the woman, letting a silence fall for a moment before finally blurting.. "Oh, sorry love." she jerked her thumb at Vincent "'Little Van' here made me promise not to talk, he didn't mention any exceptions so if you could just, clear it with him first I'd be happy to answer." she clarified in the most fabricated politeness and laced her fingers together in front of her as she rocked back and forth on her heels, looking up at the man with an innocent smile.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent furiously spun to meet Lailah's gaze, "Show some respect."

"I'm sorry Georgiana, I-"

Thin wisps of smoke floated from her lips, and she coldly stared through the haze at Vincent. Her eyes said what words did not. Be quiet. You are not being spoken to.

His jaw set and posture straightened once more. Violet hues slowly switched from him back to Lailah.

"Now, then. Your name, please. And do pull your hood down, so I would see your face."

 

[Lailah]

Lailah’s brow arched as she looked up at Vincent, the smile on her lips hardly fading at all. She was showing respect by not outright laughing at him for talking to her the way he was. Lailah didn’t owe respect to anyone who hadn’t earned it, but she reminded herself of his promise of getting her a room for the night and she huffed as she looked back to the woman with a slight roll of her eyes.

Her lips twisted for a moment in consideration of whether she should answer the woman truthfully or not. Van could have been handing her over for all she knew.. Her jaw clenched and she suppressed a groan as she lifted her gloved fingers to curl around the rim of her hood and she lowered it to reveal her snowy waves.

There was no hiding the sticky blood that still glistened on her neck in the candlelight, her face was a little dirty too but she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders proudly regardless.

“Lailah.” She answers finally, her stormy gaze narrowing somewhat as though half expecting an attack.

 

[Vincent]

Georgiana sat back and raised the pipe to her lips and curiously eyed Lailah. "Pretty," as she breathed out thin wisps, her gaze fell back to Vincent, "well?"

"We need to lie low."

"Here I was, impressed on by you that I was being brought a new girl."

"No."

"Lie low from whom?"

"La Puta Madre."

Gerogiana blinked and sat forward. The pipe shook between her fingers as she took a long drag from it. A heavy exhale. "What did I tell you about staying involved with him?" Vincent opened his mouth, but she interjected. "No, don't fucking talk. What is she, one of his? I don't want to know. Get out."

"She just owes a debt, I just helped her out of a bad situation. I know the rules here. You must earn your food and room, yes? I can work for both of us."

"You're too old. Nobody comes here looking for men. They want boys. But you can do something else. See me tomorrow. See Helena; she will get you a room and food. Close the door behind you, Little Van."

Vincent grabbed Lailah's arm and pulled her out. He guided her through the halls and down to the basement that served as a kitchen for the working girls (and sometimes boys, but there were hardly ever any). Given the hour, only a few were up. Some new faces Vincent didn't know, but one he did.

"Helena," he cooed and gently smiled at the caramel-skinned woman. She was tall and slender, with curly brown hair and large hazel eyes.

"Big brother!" She bounced across the kitchen and threw herself into his arms. As she pulled away, she took notice of Lailah and beamed at the young woman. "I'm Helena! Who're... oh, you're hurt!"

She took Lailah's hands and dragged her to the long table in the middle of the room. Pushing down her shoulders, she sat Lailah down. "I'll take care of you!"

 

[Lailah]

A brief but smug smirk tugged at the corner of her lips at being branded 'pretty'. No, she wasn't about to take up work as a whore but it was still a little flattering to know that she'd get the job if she wanted it. Her teeth latched onto her lower lip to chew on it awkwardly as the two conversed, and she let her gaze wander around the office and found apparent interest in her muddy boots and the dirt under her fingernails rather than look at either of them.

Her brow knit as Georgiana revealed that Van had worked for La Puta Madre before, and her eyes rose under her frown to the woman as she called her 'one of his' but she decided it probably best to stay quiet. At Van's offer her attention snapped toward the man in trepidation, her head shaking lightly. Sure, she'd be entirely willing to allow him to pour out his coin purse for her, but had he really been about to sell himself to help her? She stared at him incredulously, and suddenly felt a little guilty for being such an annoyance.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the woman refused him, and had been about to ask the woman what else she had in mind before accepting her hospitality, but she was grabbed before she could get the words out. For the first time in her life, perhaps, Lailah couldn't bring herself to speak and she didn't even bother to complain as Van led her by the arm to the basement.

Lailah noted how the man's persona seemed to change in the presence of the young woman and although tinged with sadness, she wore some semblance of a smile at their affection. She rubbed at her arm subconsciously and her gaze fell to give the two a little more privacy, but she looked up at the girl's introduction.

"I'm -oh.." she cleared her throat as she was being dragged once more, this time by gentler hands. Lailah hesitated as she was sat down and promised care. Kindness wasn't something she was used to of late, nor was the woman's bubbly character, but as she stared back at her she couldn't help but smile softly. The girl reminded her a little of her former self, and recalled what it was like to take care of people. She hadn't done that in a very long time.

"I'm fine, really.. I'm Lailah.." she assured, smoothing her hair over her ears and looked to Van, clearly biting back something she wanted to say.

 

[Vincent]

“You’re. So. Pretty!” Helena clapped her hands together with a smile. She moved around the room in a hurry, filling a large bowl with water and getting a rag, and digging through a cabinet for a jar of ointment. She set everything in the table next to Lailah with a smile. She leaned down and whispered. “How do you know Van? Did he drag you here to work?”

Vincent folded his arms, ”Hey...”

“A jest! A jest! You’ve never came here with a woman before, though.”

Helena wet the rag and wrung water from it before cleaning the trail of blood down Lailah’s neck, then the wound itself.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah’s cheeks warmed to a darker shade of pink at the flattery. She was used to rolling her eyes and shaking her head when similar compliments rolled so easily from the silver tongues of men, but Helena seemed to mean it. It was impossible not to smile at the girl as brightly as she did. The genuineness of her own expression felt particularly odd and underused, but not unpleasant.

“You’re sweet.. but really I’m alright you don’t need to..” Lailah protested gently but there seemed to be no talking the girl out of helping her. She smiled and let out a quiet sigh and resigned with a half smirk at her question..

“He didn’t. At least I hope not..” she mused with a glance at him. “I dragged him into my troubles and he helped me out of a scrape.” she answered a little more seriously with a tone of subtle apology.

Lailah tensed as the young woman reached found the wound, quickly fixing her hair over the slight points at the tips of her ears and wincing at the sting as the wound was cleaned.

“Thank you Helena.” she frowned gently.

 

[Vincent]

“Don’t worry! This is no problem.” Helena glanced at Vincent, squinting, “did he ask you to pay him back?”

”Helena.”

She stuck a tongue out and smeared a thin layer of ointment over the cut. “There we go. How about food? There is stew in the kettle.”

”That would be great.” Vincent sat across from Lailah and took his cloak off, setting in on the bench seat next to him. ”We need rooms. Georgiana said you would help us.”

“Sure, but I can only spare one. Is that fine?”

Vincent looked to Lailah, brow raised.