Private Tales Money Talks

[Lailah]

"Well. Nothin' in life is for free doll." her lips twisted in amusement but her eyes told a far different story. She thanked Helena again and the mention of food caused her stomach to growl on cue.

"Please..." she bit on her lip, trying not to appear as hungry as she was, but her fingertips danced on the table with anticipation and stopped abruptly as Vincent looked at her. She suppressed a groan and weighed up her options. He didn't seem the slimy sort, and she wasn't accustomed to sharing her bed with men she'd just met, but the thought of a decent night's sleep was just too pleasant a thought to pass up.

"Sure.. Thank you. I'll be out of your hair tomorrow." she assured quietly, pulling her hands into her lap and wringing her fingers together anxiously.

 

[Vincent]

Helena soon returned with two steaming bowls of stew and bread. “Just use your old room, Van. I’ve got things to take care of before I retire, so I’ll see you two later.” She cast a warm smile at Lailah, “a friend of Van’s is always welcomed here.”

She left, leaving the two in the kitchen. The other few faces that had been in there had cleared out earlier.

Vincent began to eat the stew, quiet for a short time before finally looking Lailah’s way.

”Don’t leave until we do what Georgiana asks.” He ripped off a chunk of bread and dipped it in the stew before eating it. ”The Lucky Lady is on neutral ground. No gang, not even La Puta Madre’s, can cause trouble here. Especially not with Georgiana. It’s a good place to lie low, but it won’t be for free.”

 

[Lailah]

Lailah cast the girl another friendly smile in thanks. She wasted no time in tearing some bread and swirling it in the stew before stuffing it into her mouth with an improper inward groan in delight.

"Mm.." she answered with her mouth full and clarified her agreement with a nod before swallowing her food. "I won't, I just.." she frowned thoughtfully. "What sort of thing do you expect she'll want us to do?" she asked curiously and crammed another spoonful of stew into her mouth, her brow arching as he mentioned the neutrality of the place. Somehow she doubted if she was found here that she wouldn't be dragged out kicking and screaming but she'd take his word for it.

"Hey, I didn't realise you'd be in any sort of debt for this. I figured you'd just be spending that hard earned coin of yours..." she gave a dry smirk and lowered her gaze to the bowl as she dipped another chunk of bread into it.. "And you didn't need to offer what you did. But.. Why would you do that for me?.." she asked and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze with a look of confusion and awkwardness.

 

[Vincent]

"Who knows with her?" he shrugged, "can't be anything too- I don't know- serious."

"Nobody here owes Georgiana a single coin. But there is a debt to be repaid through labor. Do you know why this place is the heart of neutral territory? Sure, there are good girls. Clean girls. But even more than that is a deep information network ran by Georgiana. She owns this bordello, but her business is in secrets. Nobody would dare mess that up" He shoveled two large spoonfuls into his mouth. "Ever whored yourself out before? It's not for everyone. Just saving the trouble of having to butt heads over that with you."

Avoiding trouble was only half the truth. He'd seen many girls try to work, but not many stayed.

"Look, I realize taking the dive put you in a bad spot. Worse spot. Just, don't make a big deal of me trying to fix it." Shocking blues rose to meet her gaze, "But I'm not giving you my money, so don't ask."

 

[Lailah]

Lailah continued to eat as she listened, glancing up from her stew as he mentioned secrets and fixing her gaze on him as he asked her whether she'd sold her body and she frowned, digging her spoon into a chunk of meat.. "Not exactly, no." her gaze narrowed and she looked down with a huff that sent a lock of her hair out of her eyes..

Her lips parted with an expression of disbelief. "I.. was sort of trying to apologise, but whatever. I don't want your fucking money. I won't ask. I won't make a big deal. I'll show some respect and I'll shut up." she stood abruptly from her seat to scowl down at him with a shake of her head, her frosty gaze watering angrily. "I just want to leave this shit hole of a city." she rubbed at her brow, pressing at the pounding headache as she turned away from him.

 

[Vincent]

He stuffed his mouth full of stew again. It felt like a long night awaited them. He just grumbled and stared into the bowl, finishing the rest in silence.

"If you need to wash," he turned and pointed to one of the doors out of the kitchen, "through there, first door on the right." He turned and pointed over her shoulder, "my room is through that door, last on the left. I'm washing first."

He took the empty bowl to a sink and dropped it in before heading to draw the bath.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah's arms locked as she leaned against the counter and she let her head fall below her shoulders, her eyes squeezing shut as thought she could force her thumping headache to withdraw. Van wasn't making it any easier, even his silence was infuriating her. She'd felt a dip of guilt and pity for the man but in an instant he had her straight back on an upward curve to rage and her jaw clenched as she kept her thoughts locked behind her teeth.

She opened her eyes to stare at the floor as he spoke, her brow knit as she glanced at him for the sake of information. She didn't bother to answer or acknowledge him as he got up and left, and her eyes rolled as the door closed behind him and she muttered a quiet "Prick." under her breath.

Lailah considered going to bed first, but the prospect of a hot bath was a heavenly one and so she'd wait. She rinsed their bowls and helped herself to an apple, enjoying the sweetness as she wandered to his room. She made quick work of getting a fire going in the small hearth, and sat herself down in front of it to wait her turn to bathe.

 

[Vincent]

It didn't take him long. He returned to the small room in fresh clothes, his old ones set aside to be washed the next morning. His damp hair was swept back, and with the day's grime washed away, he almost looked respectable. Static gaze looked down at the woman in front of the modest hearth, then swept around the room. Just the way he'd left things, though obviously it lacked his belongings.

"Changed the water for you. It's warming up right now. All the girls like different soap, so there's plenty to use." A hint of lavender wafted off Vincent. He didn't mind the soft smell. It was one thing he missed about the bordello. Always smelled nice, at least. Walking behind her to the table in the corner adjacent to the small bed, he pulled a chair next to her by the fire and sat.

"Bed's yours when you get back. As agreed, right? Bed and food."

 

[Lailah]

And there he was doing nice things again. "Gods you're giving me whiplash.." she muttered to herself and rubbed the sleepiness from her face as she stood. Her eyes wandered over him for a brief moment, and she glanced at the bed at his words, her jaw clenching.

"Don't worry about it. I can take the floor, used to it." she shrugged a shoulder as she left.

By the time she undressed, the bath was steaming hot and she melted into it and let the heat seep into her aching muscles for a few peaceful minutes before scrubbing herself of the accumulation of dirt on her skin and hair. She found the soap that Van had used, having caught the smell of lavender as he'd passed her by, and she smiled as she breathed in the soothing smell of it on her skin.

She didn't have a fresh pair of clothes, and so after stepping back out of the bath she washed her garments and left them hanging to dry, wrapping herself in fresh linen in the meantime. Lailah could have spent hours bathing in the bubbles, and testing the various oils and lotions. She combed her wet hair back, keeping the subtle tips of her ears covered, and sprayed herself with a little floral smelling perfume which made her sneeze but smelled pretty.

Lailah peeked around the doorway before leaving the bathroom, and again before stepping into Van's room, her arms wrapped around herself self consciously. "Keep your eyes elsewhere." she demanded in a hush. Her alabaster skin was flushed with the heat of the bath and her bruises were plenty. She bruised like a peach, and even where Van had grabbed her from Georgiana's office earlier had bruised in the shape of his fingertips. She could only cover half of the scars on her back with the wrap of linen, and so she'd remain facing him until she found something else to cover herself with.

 

[Vincent]

He did not keep his eyes elsewhere and gave her a single, aloof once-over before looking back into the hearth. Half-naked or fully, he'd become rather used to seeing young, beautiful women over the years. Still, there was no denying her beauty. The flame proved to be an adequate distraction from all of the glowing, pale skin that had walked in.

"Just take the bed," he didn't fail to notice how she defensively covered up in front of him, "At least you can fully cover yourself under the sheets."

When was the last time he laid with a woman? Seeing her like that forced him to reminisce about his last experience. He folded his arms and snorted, leaning closer to the fire as if it would burn away impure thoughts.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah captured her lower lip in her teeth at his words and she glanced to the bed and back to him. Could she really refuse? He had insisted, twice now in fact. Her bare foot twisted into the floorboard for a moment before she relented and rushed over to the bed and practically dived into it.

She wrapped the quilted blanket around her all the way up to her chin and cocooned herself with a growing grin at how comfortable it was, and a deep sigh escaped her chest as she nuzzled her cheek into the pillow.

Lailah had to push away the guilt that she felt for taking his bed, but she mumbled a quiet "Thank you." after a while, hoping it would suffice.

 

[Vincent]

Smiling, Vincent kicked his feet up above the hearth and leaned back in the chair. "You're welcome."

A quiet sigh passed his lips, and soon his eyelids became too heavy to keep open and he drifted into a somewhat comfortable slumber.

What woke him up the next morning was Helena peeking her head in with a mischevious grin, though it fell as her eyes swept between Lailah on the bed and Vincent in the chair. She clicked her tongue.

"Van!" she shouted, "wake up!"

Vincent's shoulders jolted and his head swung her direction, eyes unfocused. Sighing once his senses returned, he stretched his arms out and quietly groaned.

"Breakfast. Also, both of your clothes are drying."

Vincent turned to Lailah to see if she'd woken up.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah had been dead to the world, her body soaking in and savouring every minute of comfort that it possibly could. Even the grim dreams couldn't bother her. She sprawled in every way she could, a small smile crossing her lips every time she found a new comfortable position. By the time Helena's voice burst through her consciousness she'd been sprawled on her stomach, her arms flopped by her sides and blankets twisted around her waist.

Her eyes snapped open and, forgetting where she was, she tumbled out of bed and landed with a thud on the floor, a knife in one hand as the other held the entangled sheets up around her chest. She pressed her back to the wall and blinked the blurry sleep from her eyes as they settled on Helena. It took her a moment, but she dropped the blade as her mind clicked and she rubbed at her face with a heavy huff, the surge of adrenaline coursing through her causing her heart to rattle in her chest. She pressed a hand against it as though it might calm the palpitating. In all her years and all she'd survived, she feared she might just croak it here and now, killed by being called to fucking breakfast.

"Morning Helena.." The words tumbled out in a shaky breath muffled against her palms and she lifted her head to offer her a smile that took a little more effort than those she'd shown the girl yesterday. Her eyes moved to Vincent with a sheepish smile and an inward groan.

 

[Vincent]

He hadn’t expected such a rash, violent reaction. Well, he didn’t blame her. Hemd been much the same when he was younger. Vincent raised his hands and lightly shook, ”Ooh,” he playfully exclaimed, ”Scary!”

Helena, who he didn’t see enter the room, smacked the back of his head. “Don’t be mean! Come on, let’s eat. Oh, Lailah, my room is across from Van’s. Feel free to take some clothes until yours are dry.”

Vincent followed Helena to the kitchen, which was full of girls eating breakfast. Eggs, meat, hash, leftover stew, sausages... it wasn’t a meal one would expect whores to be having so early in the morning.

Vincent sat at the end of the bench with his plate, leaving room at the very end for Lailah when she arrived. He caught up with a few of the girls in the meantime.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah cast him a glare and made a face at him as he mocked her. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd been attacked in her sleep, and she'd rather be safe than sorry.

"Dick.." she commented under her breath with a wry smirk as the young woman slapped him, and satisfied with the vengeance she smiled at her offer and nodded, waiting until the two left before getting back to her feet.

She crept across the hallway to Helena's room and smiled as her fingers trailed through the girl's clothes. She'd been girly too, once, and she pulled pretty dresses against her with nostalgic smiles as she looked down at them before dismissing them back to their rail. She picked on a pair of black leggings and a long grey, sleeveless shirt that tied at the waist and left the wings inked on the backs of her shoulders and arms visible. She combed out her hair and sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, sorting the locks over her ears before she wandered to the kitchen.

She paused briefly in the doorway and smiled awkwardly as a few of the girls looked up from their breakfast, her throat clearing as she hurried along to the space Van had left for her, her eyes wandering over the food hungrily..

"Mh.. Maybe I should work here." she jested under her breath with a nudge at Vincent.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent nodded, scooping eggs into his mouth and biting half a sausage off. ”Yeah, it ain’t bad until you’ve got some fat old man’s hands tearing at your clothes, slobbering on your neck like some dog. Still, this place... well, there’s worse places to be.”

He couldn’t help but notice the ink across her shoulders and arms, but one of the younger girls across from her remarked on it before Vincent could.

“Did it hurt?” She leaned forward, eyeing the mysterious white-haired, scarred, tattooed woman. “It’s sooo interesting!”

Vincent cast an amused glance at Lailah. He expected her to be the center of attention for a while. Remaining quiet, he scarfed down the rest of his meal.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah's nose wrinkled at Vincent's imagery and she couldn't help but shudder. She'd encountered her fair share of sleaze balls but at least she didn't have to sleep with them. She cast a brief glance around the girls at the table and felt her heart sink for each and every one of them, not that she'd presume they'd want her pity.

She'd been plating herself some food when the girl spoke to her, though it took her a moment to realise what she was talking about and she glanced down at her shoulder. "Oh.. Yes it hurt like a bitch." she answered bluntly with a friendly smirk and she laughed under her breath.

The taste of bacon and eggs caused an inward groan and she ate happily, smiling at each of the girls' introductions and giving her own name and little much else but friendly chit chat. It was refreshing to be surrounded by so many other females, the atmosphere was far softer than what she'd been used to of late.

"Thank you, for the comfortable sleep.." she murmured to Van as she returned her attention to her plate to finish off the last few scraps.

 

[Vincent]

Watching Lailah warm up to the girls made the meal just that little bit more enjoyable.

”Think nothing of it,” he offered something of a fleeting smile. He pushed his plate forward as he noticed her finishing up. ”Right. Time to work.”

He excused them and led Lailah back to Georgiana’s office, who in the light that passed through the curtained windows, seemed less intimidating than the previous night.

“There you are, Little Van. Lailah. I only need one thing from you.” She settled her gaze on Vincent, considering the weight of her next words. “Alexandra ran away a fortnight ago.”

His brows furrowed and hands curled into fists as he recalled the one other time she’d left.

“She was seen in Jamrock territory. Bring her back.”

Vincent nodded and immediately thought of where she could have gone. His stomach dropped as he thought of the Jamrock gang. Whereas La Puta Madre dealt in weapons and people, the Jamrocks dealt in narcotics.

After a bit more information was given to get them started, Vincent and Lailah set off after waiting for their clothes to dry.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this good. She was clean, in fresh clothes, a full stomach and a good night’s rest behind her. She could get used to it, but she knew better than to be so foolish.

She waved goodbye to the girls and followed Van to Georgiana’s office, offering more of a respectful “Good morning.” to the woman along side a dip of her chin. Lailah rested her back against the door as she awaited the woman’s request, and as she mentioned the Jamrocks she couldn’t help but bite on her lip. She knew plenty about them, and endeavoured to stay out of their territory. She suppressed a groan as she stepped out of the office, and kept her mouth shut on the matter.

Once dressed in her usual dark, hooded coat and subtly armed, she lifted the hood over her pearly locks and set off along side him. “Look if. If I run into any sort of trouble like yesterday just don’t get yourself involved..” she pre-warned and let out a huff.

“Do you know where she’s likely to be?..” her brow rose as she asked him anxiously, glancing over her shoulder.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent fastened his bracers as they stepped into the street, a brisk autumn breeze blowing from the docks. He pulled the salt-and-pepper colored fur collar of his cloak around his cheeks and frowned.

"Like it or not, our troubles are shared for the time being," he huffed into the fur, "let's just agree to avoid trouble."

Arms folded under his cloak, and his expression soured, "I have an idea."

He led her back, and soon the perfectly constructed stone buildings became less and less perfect. Even so early in the morning, the streets were packed as everyone busily set to do the day's work. Vincent effortlessly slipped through the busy streets, used to it all. He warmly reminisced about when he was just a small lad and the tussles he got into from clumsily bumping into others. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder to check on Lailah. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders- quick to think, adapt, and had that touch of savoir-faire needed to survive in the cesspool that was the Allirian underworld. Still, he could tell she wasn't a local. He could always tell.

He slowed his pace a bit and spoke back over his shoulder, "You said trouble. Don't tell me you owe the Jamrocks, too?"

 

[Lailah]

Her gaze narrowed with a slight grimace at his words about avoiding trouble. Sadly it seemed to find her relatively easily of late, and there were a few too many people looking for her.

She kept her gaze downcast as much as she could, following close behind him as she shuffled through the crowd, bumping into a few disgruntled people whom she quickly offered apology to.

Lailah groaned at his question.. “I.. Not exactly, no.” She bit on her lip for a moment and looked up at him. “I wasn’t completely honest with you before. Well, I was, I just omitted certain details..” she admitted a little awkwardly.

“I work for him. Worked... La Puta Madre, that is.” she winced. “I tried to get out, tried to take my earnings with me, plus a little more. Paid for my spot on a ship leaving for Oban, his cronies got hold of me before I could reach the docks. Ship left, with my coin. His coin.” she huffed, her tone quiet.

“As for the Jamrocks I was sent to pick up payment a few weeks back. One of their guys got handsy and I plugged him.” she shrugged. “Caused a bit of trouble for us, and for me...but I’m not a whore.” She muttered.

 

[Vincent]

"Really?" He momentarily stopped and half-turned to look back at her, jaw partly hanging in disbelief. His mouth closed up and lips pressed into a thin line. "Oban, huh?"

He turned and continued through the crowd, "I know you're not a whore. What are you then? Not a collector, not an enforcer..."

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a small group of men clad in black leather. What stood out was the vibrant green that they wore, accenting that- A green shirt, green armband, green cloth waistband. They were well into Jamrock territory now.

Vincent sighed and turned his attention ahead. "C'mon, we're close."

Passing by the occasional group of thugs, Vincent slipped between buildings and guided her through a winding system of backstreets, stairs, and narrow alleys. Rushing water flowed through an archway below as he guided her up a walkway. They stopped just above the channel at a near-dilapidated building. Frowning, Vincent slammed a fist against the door.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

After waiting, he banged on it louder.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Again, he was met with silence. Glancing back at Lailah, his patience waning, he took a step back before throwing the sole of his foot at the latch. Old, near-rotting wood splintered under the force of his boot, and the door violently swung inward. Vincent stepped into the darkness, nothing but mold and mildew greeting him. He squinted his eyes, the only light coming from the open doorway, stained windows, and cracks in the walls.

Whether Lailah'd followed him in or not, Vincent cautiously took off through the building, taking large steps over heaps of trash. He walked down a narrow hall, checking rooms as he went, before heading up a flight of stairs.

As Lailah would catch up to him on the second floor, she would find him standing in the open doorway of the last room, his expression wrought with sadness and pain. In front of him, motionless was the splayed body of a young woman. A side table had been pulled up by the bed, paraphernalia covering the tabletop: pipes, a candlestick, and an array of vials, powders, and herbs.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah stopped abruptly as he turned to her, her gaze narrowed slightly as she gave a short nod at his question. Her brow rose as he reacted far more calmly than she’d expected, and as she continued on she followed with a quiet “mhmm.. Oban.”

She glanced over her shoulder again as he questioned her.. “What makes you think I’m not an enforcer?..” she grinned to herself and huffed as she skipped to keep up with him, keeping her head down and watching his feet. “Spying, mainly. He used me to get information or keep tabs on certain people. I have a few other talents that he kept me around for. He’ll have the boys looking for me still, he can be... possessive?” she muttered with another wary glance up and down the street, her feet moving quickly in time with his strides.

“I’m guessing you’ve had to retrieve her before?..” Lailah asked delicately as he led her through the alleyways. It couldn’t mean anything good. She glanced up at the building and chewed anxiously on her lip whilst he waited on an answer at the door and a simple shrug given as he glanced at her.

As the door was smashed open, she couldn't help but tense, and she slipped a knife into her hand as she stepped in after him, checking the rooms to make sure he wasn't going to have any trouble. Those she did check were occupied by people who were either passed out or couldn't likely dress themselves let alone start trouble. She groaned to herself and skipped up the steps to find Van, a pause given at his expression before she peered around the doorway.

Lailah frowned and touched a hand against Vincent's arm. She could only assume it was the girl he'd been looking for, and she squeezed past him to go to her, dropping to her knee and pressing a hand over the woman's mouth.

"She's alive.. But barely." she frowned and gave Vincent an awkward glance as she took the unconscious woman's hand. There was no glow, or light or sound that accompanied her gifts, only the change in Alexandra's rigid and pained expression to one that was far more comfortable and peaceful. Lailah's hand swept the girl's hair back from her clammy face with a soft hush, and Alexandra gripped her hand a little tighter.

"Let's get her out of here.." Lailah glanced up at him, and her gaze wandered disdainfully over the array of paraphernalia, her eyes lingering on the vial of Shade for a little longer and she huffed to herself with a shake of her head. "Nasty shit." she muttered.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent had nodded along while Lailah explained her role within the gang, and after they had stepped in, he uttered, "Only once," in response.

***
​

"If we hadn't gone to the bordello, they would've have sent anyone else. She would have died here." His nails dug deeper and deeper into his palms as his fists tightened. Vincent finally stepped into the room behind Lailah. "Help me get her on my back," he didn't care to investigate the contents of the room nor to see just how many different drugs covered the small table next to the bed. He just wanted to get out as soon as possible. Lailah's quiet remark was met with a silent agreement; a nasty grimace painted over Vincent's features as Alexandra's weight bore down on his back.

"Alexandra lost two children," Vincent broke the uncomfortable silence that lingered between the two as they'd entered the winding alleyways, "Might come as a surprise, but Georgiana never once made any of her girls get rid of a child. Alexandra wanted to love them. Each time that bump grew bigger, I could remember how happy she had been." Shortly after the second loss, Alexandra disappeared. Vincent had spent the better part of three days tracking her down. In doing so had asked a favor of La Puta Madre. Put out feelers, he had asked. I'll do anything, he had said.

He repaid the debt with labor and entered a life that none ever got out of with ease. A glance over his shoulder at Lailah reminded him of that.

"You don't have any coin. How will you get to Oban now?"

 

[Lailah]

“Well we did and she’s alive.” Lailah answered as he seemed to take some form of guilt over the situation. She helped get the woman onto Vincent’s back with a groan under her weight. As mouthy as she was, Lailah was by no means physically strong, in fact she was weaker than most and only her speed and agility had helped her out of more scrapes than she’d care to admit.

The woman let out an agitated whine, but she quieted and seemed to relax as Lailah’s hand pressed against her back and she sighed, taking off her jacket and throwing it over her. She’d be much easier to see this way, her hair and tattoos weren’t exactly discreet, but the woman was ice cold and her life was hanging by a thread as it was. She made sure to keep a hand on her as she walked beside them, her brow knit as she listened to the sad tale of Alexandra’s life.


“That’s horrible…” Lailah replied quietly, her voice slightly strained, as though she could feel the woman’s pain.. Her gifts were as much a curse to her, but the woman was at least comfortable.

Vincent’s question did cause the corner of her lips to twitch and curl into a half smirk, and she reached to shake at her coat, the sound of coins jingling from the inside pocket.. “You don’t really think I’m that clumsy, do you?..” she laughed under her breath. She must have bumped into at least five people whilst shouldering her way through the throngs of people on the way here.