Private Tales Money Talks

[Lailah]

Her brow furrowed as she watched him leave, her shoulders sagging as he clearly wasn't amused. At least he wouldn't miss being jabbed in the ribs, she knew it irritated him, but she'd hoped this time it'd at least ease the tension a little.

Lailah took her time, 'dragging her feet' as it were. Not that she was afraid, exactly, she'd simply taken a liking to this place and she'd made herself perhaps a little too comfortable in this little room with the single bed and cosy hearth. But the people were more difficult to leave. She sat down on the bed, staring at her clothes for a long moment before finally compelling herself to dress.

Black leggings....Grey shirt.......Black corset..............Black boots.......................Black coat.......................Two daggers.

She huffed when there was nothing else to do other than scoop the tiny columns of coins back into her purse, and she slowly dropped them in, one...by...one. She slipped the full purse inside her coat and finally opened the door, her stormy gaze settling on Van with a blink. "Have you been standing there this whole time?.." she asked, forcing herself somewhat mechanically to step out of his room.

Her hands splayed out by her sides and she shrugged awkwardly, rocking back and forth on her heels once.. "Well, I should get going." her lips pursed. "I guess I'll see you around?.." her brow arched in question, hoping he wasn't too angry with her. "I really am sorry, for dragging you all into this. But I'm glad you threw that fight." she grinned and dropped her gaze. She'd have been lying if she'd said it hadn't been worth it to escape for a little while, even if it was to a brothel.

"Say bye to the girls for me?.." she added, drawing her eyes back up and chewing on her lip.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent answered with a wry half-smile. She talked. And talked. It didn’t help lift his stomach from the pit it fell in. Her eyes drew up to meet his, and he suddenly pulled her by her wrist into a hug. Just as quickly, he let her go.

“The Western Docks. Abandoned warehouses. Vasteel Trading Company’s old warehouse. If you ever need a safe place, go through the building and to the back office. Follow the path, and it’ll take you just out of the city, where there is an old residential district over the sea. My home is there, with a marked door.” He sadly smiled, ”I’m not always there, but... if there’s ever an emergency and you need to hide, nobody knows of it.”

Vincent stared down into her eyes. His ever intense gaze softened for a rare, fleeting moment. ”Let me cheat you again sometime.”

And he let go of her wrist, freeing the bird to let it fly.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah blinked, her body rigid for a moment as he pulled her in for a hug, and she’d only just begun to ease when he let her go and she sighed deeply.

Grey eyes narrowed slightly as she listened to him explain where he lived... explain that nobody knew of it...Her expression warmed and she beamed a smile up at him with a husky laugh, glad that he too was trying to lighten the mood a little instead of being mad at her.

“Hm. Think it’s my turn next time.” She tried to wink and blinked instead, rolling her eyes at the botched effort.

“Later, Little Van.” She smiled, giving him one last nudge for good measure before dragging herself out of the Bordello, avoiding any more awkward goodbyes.

 

[Vincent]

Little Van. He really hated that name.

A quiet month passed. Then a second. Four months of silence. Comfort, even. Peace came to an abrupt end when Vincent was on the Epressa side of Alliria on business, far from the Lucky Lady bordello. There was nothing he could do as two dozen men overwhelmed the brothel, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. The brothel was crumbling, and a dark plume of smoke rose from the ruins. Several were left dead, and Georgiana was missing.

Every night, Vincent remembered Alexandra crying over a bloodied Helena, a crescent gash stretching from ear-to-ear on the once beautiful young woman's face. The Matones gang's trademark. Proof that a hit was theirs. They called it: giving a smile.

Everyone split up after that. Some tried to work at other establishments. Some were able to move on. Vincent remembered when Alexandra came to his door one night, about a month after the raid. He stayed at a friend's flat as she pounded on the door, screaming and crying. Helena had hung herself. Two weeks later, Alexandra was found dead in some gutter, her arms and legs bruised. She wore a stained sheer dress and had died of an overdose. The mortician said it was lucky that they found her when they did. The rats had only just begun to feast on her.

Vincent wasn't one to feel much guilt over causing others harm. He surely hadn't felt guilty when he cheated Lailah of her money, but for some reason, helped her anyways. Maybe he never liked the Matones much. He tried to distract himself with work. Didn't help. Eventually, he shut himself in his small sanctuary just outside of Alliria's walls, where the balcony from his bedroom faced the ocean. Only ever left to return with more drink. Narcotics, too.

Van, where were you?!

There's so much blood!

Oh, Vincent, her face!

Snrrrrt-

Vincent's head reeled back, and he quietly gasped as he sniffed several more times. His unfocused gaze set out through the crack in the balcony doors. The sun was just rising, huh? Too early for the voices.

He flopped on his back and stared at the ceiling until sleep washed over him.

 

[Lailah]

They'd made her watch when they'd dragged the girls from their beds. She'd managed to scream loud enough for some of them to make it out, but those that didn't had their throats cut or were left beaten to die in the blaze if they couldn't get up.

Lailah had fought back, but she wasn't anywhere near strong enough. It was Van that she screamed out for as they dragged her outside and beat her to within an inch of her life after she'd stabbed one of Alvaro's best men in the ribs and twisted the blade. She'd been forced to watch him mutilate sweet Helena, and she gave the woman the chance to run. It wasn't enough, as she'd learned some time later.

The guilt was crippling, and Lailah had been on close watch, not only for being a flight risk or prone to violent outbursts, but because any chance she got to hurt herself she took it. Her wrists were still dressed from her most recent attempt, but she'd managed to get back to work and, much to her disdain, back into bed with Alvaro in effort to convince him that she was, in fact, capable of being trusted again.

Her gaze was distant as she lay, stroking at the man's face, pretending to listen, pretending to care. Her touch was soothing, purposefully, convincing him that he was sleepy, that he was calm and relaxed, that he could trust her. He couldn't.

It was rare that they were alone in the apartment, and she knew she didn't have long to take her chances. Her dark eyes fixed on his sword at the other side of the room, and after she'd soothed him to sleep she padded silently toward it. At first, she pressed the tip of it to her own chest, her hands trembling so much she had to grip the blade tightly enough that it sliced into her palms and across her fingers. The sting of it seemed to bring her to her senses and she blinked and turned her gaze to the man in the bed.. La Puta Madre..

She might have been to blame for everything that had happened. But he'd made the call. He'd done it to hurt her, to teach her a lesson, out of spite and jealousy and rage. He'd let her think she'd gotten away with it for long enough before burning it all down. Her jaw clenched, and suddenly she blinked again and she was on him, his own blade buried to the hilt in his gut and wrenched back out. She pressed her hand against the wound, just to make it hurt more. His bloody hand gripped her throat without the strength to squeeze, and she soaked in his screams until they were gurgles and choking sounds before gathering her clothes, weapons and coin and fleeing.

Lailah dressed in an alleyway, and before long found herself at the Western docks and following the path out of the city that Van had told her about. For hours, she walked, but her mind was so far away it felt like only a moment before she stood in front of his marked door, and knocked her bloodied knuckles against it.

"Van?... Are you here?"

 

[Vincent]

Lapses of consciousness washed over him like changing weather. Vincent's warm body tossed and turned in his bed, seeking a cool spot to soothe the burning sensation his skin gave off. And just when he thought he'd finally found a comfortable spot-

Thud! Thud! Thud!

His eyelids fluttered, unfocused gaze trained on the ceiling. Who the he-

"Van?... Are you here?"

Van?

He rose from his bed and shuffled his feet over the floor to the balcony doors, swinging them open with a rough push. Another step forward, and he looked over the balcony's railing. A cool sea breeze hit his skin. His hair had grown even longer than before, his beard untamed. What muscle on his frame had long since disappeared, leaving behind only a skinny, disheveled man. His ribs poked out, his cheeks hollow and gaunt.

Glowing under the sunlight was a young woman's snow-colored wavy locks. His heart sunk into his gut, and he wished he hadn't shown himself. Vincent retreated into his room and slowly made his way to the door. Through the hall. Down the stairs. He pulled the door in, cracking it so he could barely see her.

"Lailah."

 

[Lailah]

What was she doing here?

What right did she have showing up on his doorstep after everything that had happened? What made her think he'd ever want to set eyes upon her again in the first place?.. She panicked and shook her head with a quiet, elven muttering to herself as she turned away. She half way down the path when she heard him push open the doors of his balcony and she froze like a doe in a meadow. Her muscles were rigid with tension as she turned slowly to look up, but she caught only just caught a glimpse of him stepping back. Of course he didn't want to see her..

"You fucking idiot, Lailah.." she sighed to herself as she turned away, hugging her arms as she wandered further down the path, but by the end of it she stopped again as she heard the front door open. She chewed on her lip for a moment as she watched and her head tilted with a frown as he didn't open it fully. Lailah fought with herself for a moment before deciding that whether he wanted to see her or not, she'd do what she came here to do and tell him how sorry she was. It wouldn't bring them back or clear her conscience but whether or not he chose to listen, she had to tell him.

She was a mess. Her skin was paler, if possible, and her eyes had darkened so much they were barely grey at all, more black..soulless. She lifted her collar, aware that her throat was still covered in a handprint of dry blood, and she curled her bloody and bleeding hands into fists and tucked them under her arms as she slowly walked back toward his door..

"Van?... I don't, expect you to want to talk to me I just. I had to see you." she frowned, her voice trembling as she tilted her head, trying to see him. Her eyes pooled with tears and she drew in a painful breath, clearing the ache from her throat as he refused to open the door for her..

"Please Van..."

 

[Vincent]

A breath.

The door swung in, and sunlight beat down on Vincent's pitiful frame. He had a slouch now. His broad shoulders seemed so much smaller from several months ago. Despite having an intoxicating powder in his bloodstream, his gaze was just and fierce as before. It was something that would never change. His eyes slowly swept from her feet to the top of her head as he silently took in her appearance. Without a word, he turned away and trudged back down the hall, up the stairs, and to his room, leaving the front door open for her to enter.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah stared at him, every emotion she felt pausing in her expression at the sight of him. Her lips parted as she fought for words but none came, and as he turned away wordlessly her heart sank with more guilt. She was rooted to the spot for another moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Her slender brow knit as she looked around, able to plainly see that he'd stopped caring about much. She wandered slowly upstairs to find him, a gentle knock at his room door as she wandered in after him.

 

[Vincent]

The door opened. Vincent tugged at his trousers; an old pair that he had fit at once point, but now had become too large and fell from his waist.

"You look like a mess," he mumbled. The rest of the small house was well-kept, but the scene over Vincent's shoulder was a sight almost similar to when they retrieved Alexandra.

"Just had to see me. What is that supposed to mean?" His tone was soft. No, it was weak. His words slurred together.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah frowned at his words and nodded slowly, unable to take her eyes off of him as he spoke and yet well aware of the state of the place.. "You're a sight for sore eyes yourself.." she replied gently, afraid he might break or yell at her if she spoke too loudly.

"I tried to leave sooner... I tried to, warn, I.." she gave up and ran her hand into her hair and clutched at it, painting a few strands of it crimson. She huffed and sat down on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, unable to look at him, what she'd done to him.

"I can't even begin to explain how sorry I am.." the tears fell, and she quickly swiped at them with the back of her wrist, having no right to cry in front of him at all. Everything was too much of a mess. What fucking good was an apology?

"I'm leaving, now, you don't ever have to see me again I just wanted to say I'm sorry." her head shook as she realised how ridiculous it sounded now she'd said it out loud.

 

[Vincent]

"You're in trouble, aren't you?" He sat at the other end of the bed and leaned his head against the wall. "I expected you to come sooner. Did you know Helena hung herself? They found Alex dead in the streets. Overdosed. Still, no idea where Georgiana went to."

Lusterless gaze fell to the bottles scattered about the floor. There was a long pause, a painful silence.

"I don't blame you," he quietly admitted, "but I don't need your pity." He spat. A finger dabbed a smudge of powder on the tabletop next to the bed. He wiped it on his pants.

"Why don't you lie low? Can't go back, can you?" He wryly smiled. Lie low. Felt like when they first met. The only difference is now this time they truly wouldn't be found.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah laughed under her breath at his question but there was no amusement in it.. "When am I not in trouble?.." she muttered.

"I heard.." she bit on her lip and tilted her head back slightly to stop more tears from escaping, a shuddered breath pulled in.. "I tried to help her. I couldn't. And I, figured I'd be the last person you'd want to see. You should blame me. I should never have been there in the first place..." her jaw clenched as her self loathing surged once again, her fingertips picking absently at the bandages that wrapped her wrists.

"I'm not here to pity you.." she answered quickly, eyes following his hand to the powder on the table and she sighed deeply at his question. She had no intention of staying and every intention of getting as far away from Alliria as she could as quickly as she could. He may not have wanted her pity but he needed help, and the thought of leaving him like this went against every fibre of her being. There really wasn't any chance of her being found here, and the one she feared most was dead.

"Alright." she nodded without argument, the tension in her shoulders easing somewhat now that he hadn't expressed the rage she'd been expecting and that she fully deserved.

 

[Vincent]

"Stop..." he seethed but regained some semblance of composure after letting out a heavy, tired sigh, "blaming yourself. There's no other room. You can stay downstairs."

Vincent picked up a bottle from the table and held it up to the light, squinting at the bottom of it. He quietly huffed and dropped his hand, letting it roll out of his palms and off his fingertips. It hit the floor with a hollow thud and rolled away, only stopping as it hit another empty bottle.

He dryly swallowed and longingly stared at the smudges across the tabletop.

"I'm tired," he lied, "make yourself at home. I'm going to rest."

 

[Lailah]

Lailah winced at the word and drew back a little.. "Alright.." she repeated in a whisper and swallowed the growing lump in her throat as she watched him. She knew he was trying to get rid of her, and where she didn't want to get in his way, she'd have to soon or she'd have to watch him wasting away in front of her.

She pushed herself from the bed and side stepped to sit next to him, reaching a bloody hand to rest hesitantly on his arm where it warmed subtly against his skin. It was a touch meant to soothe and calm, to ease pain and tension, to rid worry and let him sleep.

"Sleep then. I'll find us something to eat for when you wake.." she told him in a tone as soft as her touch.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent jerked his shoulder away, shrugging her hand off him. The touch only seemed to rile him up. He shot a brief, annoyed glare at her. It was a fleeting look, and his sights set back onto the table.

"Sure," he mumbled, and waited in silence for Lailah to leave.

When she did, he quickly pushed himself off the bed and scrambled on his hands and knees, reaching under the bed for a small, skinny wooden box. He lifted the lid, where a row of large vials was placed in grooves, full of pale blue powder.

He pulled one out, a sigh of relief escaping him as he uncorked the vial and poured a small bit of the contents onto the back of his hand before lifting it to his nose. He shivered and inwardly gasped before leaning forward, resting his face against the bed.

There was a great rush first. A tingling that spread through his body to the tips of his fingers and toes. Happiness. He could forget everything as that comforting warmth engulfed him. That same happiness lulled him to sleep.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah recoiled as he shrugged her hand away, the confusion on her face only contorting with hurt and apology as he looked at her the way he did. She glanced down at her hand for a moment and muttered a quiet ‘sorry’ as she got up and rushed from his room.

When the door closed behind her she leaned back against it and pressed the back of her wrist against her lips and she silently cried, her heart racing in her chest. She slid to the floor and stayed there for a while with her head in her hands, and she jumped awake after a brief moment of sleep.

Lailah clicked open the door and peeked around it, watching him for a moment to ensure he wasn’t about to wake up. She spoke his name quietly, and when he didn’t stir she stepped in.

When he woke, he’d find his room clean and tidy, and Lailah sat out on the balcony along with his little wooden box.

 

[Vincent]

He woke with a jolt. Vincent's drool had soaked into the mattress, and his knees were sore from the floor.

How long did I sleep?

He then noticed his room. And the...

A panic. He jumped to his feet, ignoring his aching legs, and whipped his head around. Dizzyness struck immediately. He burst out onto the balcony, shoulder the doors open. A look left, then right. His gaze settled on Lailah.

"Give me that."

 

[Lailah]

She glanced into the room as she heard his panic and she calmly returned her attention to the horizon, flinching slightly as he burst outside to join her.

She settled a shaky hand over the box.. “You can have it. I haven’t touched the contents. But if I’m going to stay here, you’re going to stop this.” she told him with as much confidence and conviction as she could muster.

“I won’t stay here and watch you slowly die.” She quirked a brow and looked up at him.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent snatched it and immediately opened it up, his shoulders dropping as his muscles relaxed.

I won't stay here and watch you slowly die.

His gaze switched between her and the vials before settling on the latter. It was his escape. His only joy. His body and mind screamed for it.

"Whatever. I don't care." He murmured and retreated into the room, clutching the now-closed box tightly to his chest.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah’s body tensed as he snatched the box from her and she watched him retreat like some sort of animal. She huffed and followed him inside.

“You don’t care? Well I fucking care. You saw what this shit done to Alexandra. You cared when it was her you were dragging out of drug dens. I won’t let you become that. They.. they wouldn’t even recognise you right now.” She frowned at him, trying to stand her ground as she braced herself for the backlash.

“I‘ll help you. Whether you care or not.” Her arms folded across her chest and she stared at him with mingled concern and defiance.

 

[Vincent]

Another moment of silence. Then, a small murmur. "Do what you want."

Vincent sat on the bed and opened the case. He took out a partially filled vial and looked at it in his palm. "Don't talk about them. He didn't want to think about them. Not Georgiana. Not Helena. Not Alex.

pop.

He uncorked the vial and poured a small bit on the back of his hand. Thoughts of his friends, dead and missing, ravaged his mind and heart. He just wanted to forget everything. Vincent didn't even think of Lailah as he raised his hand up to his nose.

 

[Lailah]

“You think I want to think about them?... you think I don’t want to die every fucking time I think about them?..” her eyes welled and her fists balled angrily, but her anger was for herself, she couldn’t blame him for wanting some form of escape for it and she’d have been a hypocrite to judge him for it.

“Van..” she spoke his name with an edge of worry as he tipped out some of the powder, and as he lifted his hand toward his nose she stepped forward and smacked it back down.

“Fucking stop it!”

 

[Vincent]

He threw the wooden case down. The glass vials fell out and rolled across the floor. Vincent balled his fists and shot up, meeting her gaze with a clenched jaw.

”Fuck you!” was all he could manage, ”They were my family! And- and now they’re gone! I should have been there! I’m all alone, and all I ever do is think about them! EVERY DAY!” tears welled up in his eyes and he began to smack his temples and forehead as his voice rose to a scream, ”AND I JUST WANT TO FORGET!”

Vincent held his head and collapsed onto his rear as he violently wailed.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah flinched and watched the vials roll across the floor, staring back at him with fear in her eyes and she took a step back, half expecting him to lash out at her. Her breaths quickened and she felt her heart pitch to frantic as he swore and yelled at her, her mute tears rolling freely down her cheeks. She winced as he directed his aggression toward himself and started screaming, shifting her weight hesitantly as she refrained from intervening for fear of making things worse..

“You don’t think I want to forget? I WAS there. They made me fucking watch! If you’d been there you’d be dead, Van. There were too many of them for there to have been any other outcome.” She was trying to be as calm as she could, but her voice quaked. She moved closer and knelt out of arm’s reach of him.

“Am I alone?...” she asked sharply, her jaw clenching as she awaited his answer.