Hello, everyone! after dealing with real life and the other nonsense of living, panny and i have decided to bring back war of change. give a round of applause. we’ve worked through all of the information and hopefully improved coherency and cohesion; however, tell us if we missed something. eventually, we’ll announce an event to celebrate the re-opening, so look out for information on that. -RAIDNE, THE HEAD ADMIN
From the moonless night, screams of terror and fear resound, spreading across the world and infecting the masses; however, those sleepless nights occurred years ago. A new era began with the fires of war, and with no end in sight, the residents of Selene Isle trudge through life, basking in the momentary peace. Despite their prayers for continued monotony and peace, a storm brews, stirred to life by the continued presence of Rapture and Wraith. And as we set our sights on the seemingly peace laden isle, we must ask: how shall this tale end?
As the years passed, the number of true pairs increased; however, they continued to live in the shadows, catering to the whims of the mundane. Seven Moons kept watch over them all, instructing them and assisting them, but for many, the attitudes and ideals of the organization were smoldering, suffocating. With Seven Moons and the mundanes, they could not grasp the freedom, the power dangling before their eyes. In the beginning, rebellion was a dream, a fantasy, a figment—developed by the repressed and carried forward due to the nature of humanity. No one expected the call to sound, and no one expected the call to be answered. However, it happened.
Theo Wittenberg had never been inside Blasphemy before, despite technically working there. Technically. Even to someone as new to Selene as he was the connection between Amour Cafe and the huge casino club across the street was no big secret -- there was more than enough cross traffic to suggest the connection, and that was to the eyes of someone who didn't frequently see Blasphemy name tags coming and going from the "cafe".
To be inside the 'main building', to see all the glitz and pomp, the way everything from the floors to the bannisters was polished to a mirror sheen... it was fairly spectacular. It's reputation was certainly justified, and the name as well -- if Blasphemy's chief sin was in trying to outstrip the glory of heaven with the fallen spectacles of earth, then they were right on the money. The young-looking escort flashed his company ID to the second set of bouncers waiting inside and took a moment to let his gaze wander over the throngs of gamblers and patrons. The place was reasonably busy, to be sure. People at roulette and blackjack tables, people drinking at the bar... his gaze fell on the section where poker tables were set up.
That's where his client for the night would be.
Theo hadn't been an escort long. Sex by agreement like this wasn't as daunting a prospect for him as it seemed to be for most, yet he also hadn't been at it very long. Most 'jobs' took place inside the cafe... whoever had the clout to arrange for an escort to work outside had both money and connections even a bit above and beyond the normal grade. It made him just slightly uncomfortable, being here amongst so many of Selene's rich and powerful. Mostly rich and powerful men, he reminded himself. It was likely to be that kind of client, with that kind of needs. The kind he didn't especially look forward to.
Well, wouldn't do to keep the client with the white and blue boutonniere waiting. Maybe it was as simple as someone who wanted something pretty hanging off their arm all night -- Theo had certainly dressed for such. But he felt, deep down, that the night would by no means be that simple.
Nights Belle didn't have work, which was rarely, she found it amusing to herself to go to Blasphemy. Just because she was employed by a Rapture branch didn't mean she aligned with them. Which she didn't. Her neutral state made her something of an anomaly, and she liked to practice it. A lot of the patrons there also knew her employment. For now, she simply liked the back and forth that the freedom from groups gave her.
Even if it came at the confusion of others.
Since moving, there was't a lot Belle spent money on. Food and utilities, mostly. She didn't travel as much anymore. No rent on the house; it was all paid for before she'd even arrived. So, with nothing else to spend it on, she indulged. It was what she did best, after all.
Her routine at Blasphemy usually consists of sitting at the bar, drinking what ever was most expensive. Maybe some rouge gambling towards the end of the night. What she didn't usually do was cause too much trouble. She got enough at work, and that wasn't what she was here for. No, not at all. She was happy enough, fiddling with the tiny umbrellas in her drink. That tended to annoy people the most without being obnoxious. It certainly kept the seats either side of her cleared. But she was at home in the noise.
Until something seemed...off. The air seemed the change, but everything seemed to go on as usual.
It had been a few days since she'd met her...Pair. And it had been a few days since she'd really contacted him. Obviously, something wasn't sitting right with her, and she tried desperately to fight of the tight twisting of her gut when she thought about it. He. She hated it. He. He. He. But she knew she didn't exactly have a say in it. Now she was feeling that same sensation as the night the two of them first crossed paths.
And then she saw him. The bar was backed with mirrors, and his reflection danced across it to one of the poker tables. Belle tensed for a moment before relaxing slightly. Her eyes were fixed on him. What was he doing here? He certainly didn't seem here for himself. She ordered another drink to try and appear unshaken.
Her eyes narrowed at the pretty reflection in the glass. It seemed they couldn't quite keep apart. How...annoying.
Theo was too wrapped up in the unusual environs and unpleasant anticipation to notice the tug in the back of his mind that Belle felt. He'd had a few jobs since going to work at the "cafe" and knew what anxious jitters were like but... this felt different somehow. Unsettling. He tried to shake it off, to put a bit of confidence in his step, but convincing himself was much harder than others. Wandering through the poker tables that ringed one particular bar-side, eyes searching for a blue and white flower pinned to a shirt or jacket, he wondered why he felt so unsteady... not realizing that it was the unacknowledged connection to his 'other half'.
"You must be the little devil I've been expecting..."
Theo tensed for a moment at hearing the voice behind him. Strong. Gruff. Gravelly. The client, almost certainly. Slowly turning with what he hoped looked like a relaxed smile, the young man found himself staring at a two-flower boutonniere of crossed stems, one blue and one white, on a jet black formal shirt worn by a faux-slickly dressed man almost two heads taller than the payboy. A pair of gold teeth grinned from a mouth of slightly yellowed teeth framed by a rough-cut razor-slim beard and mustache. His breath smelled like cognac and cheap cigars; if but for a fedora and a tommy gun this "gentleman caller" would've been the striking image of a classic American mobster.
"Yeah," The client grinned even wider. "You'd be the one, I'll bet."
"Mephisto, sir." Theo introduced himself, trying hard to be pleasant while thinking how it was going to be a very, very long night. "I believe I'm... yours for the evening?"
"Correct, boy." He looked Theo up and down, examining him like he was a slab of meat on the butcher's table. "Yes... you'll do. First time here? You seem a bit nervous."
"It's unusual for me to... work... outside of the cafe." He turned the question a bit, just to avoid answering it directly.
"I like the atmosphere here, the idea of 'getting lucky'. Always been a man of fortune." He put a hand on Theo's shoulder, grinned wickedly, then put his arm around the boy's shoulders before pulling him in close and whispering. "I plan to finish the night with a bang," He released Theo somewhat. "But first, some drinks and a few tables. You'll come with me, I should hope?"
As she watched the scene in the mirror unfold, she could help but feel...angry. The barman return with her drink and she accepted it with a hardly courteous thank-you nod. She only wished she knew what was being said. This wasn't the last place she expected to find him, sure, but he wasn't a regular here in her mind. She supposed he didn't need to be.
Even with her less than satisfied feelings toward her 'partner', she twitched when the large other man put his arm around Theo and pulled him close. That made her feel uncomfortable. In a way she wasn't really used to. It reminded her...
...of how men would treat the models backstage.
Belle promptly downed the drink, letting the heat settle in the pit of her stomach, taking a deep breath. This was interesting, to say the least. The boy was dwarfed by the mountain who seemed keen in him in a not-so-mutual way. Belle could almost feel his unease from here. She was uncomfortable.
Well at least she knew what his profession was now. Mephisto...
Dragging him along with one hand on his shoulder, mister "Hardings" -- the obviously fake name would likely have made Theo laugh if he wasn't so ill at ease with this whole thing -- decided to start his night's gaming streak at the nearest craps table he could find. This was already very different from any other job Theo had done. Sure, every client had their own tastes and way they preferred to do things -- some wanted to sit, talk, and get comfortable first, others dive headlong into the act, still others wanted lit candles and massage oil, and so it went. He'd heard of clients who preferred to "storyboard" their experiences, like going to a restaurant beforehand to pretend it was a date or meet in an empty office building for roleplaying purposes, but...
... but Theo wasn't doing any of that right now, he realized. He was being whisked along as a showpiece, as a showpiece. And the more that Hardings played and drank, the more it was clear that the young callboy's role was not as a person at all. When he wasn't blowing on dice or hanging on his arm he was simply standing in the background... like furniture.
Furniture.
A damnable ornament.
An object.
The voice within him growled against the indignity but only quietly; the young demon knew he had to endure this, that it would be over at the end of the night and he could leave. The end of the night... there was a thought that had an altogether unpleasant edge to it. Theo suddenly found his mind drifting back to a grimy alleyway after school and the leering, scornful faces of former classmates, to the day when his ears and tail...
"Where's a ****ing cocktail waitress when you need one?" Hardings' gravel-filled dissatisfaction snapped the Glamorous Fighter from his near-trance. Seated at a poker table now, a gold-toothed grin was followed by "Go fetch me another scotch from the bar, my little devil." The older man slipped a ten into the waist of Theo's jeans before he'd even quite realized he was doing it, letting his hand linger in certain places while grinning stupidly from his seat. It was almost a relief when, with a light smack, he sent Theo on his almost-too-welcome errand.
This was getting disgusting -- the thought slipped into his head unbidden, but once there he couldn't shake it. He'd had men commonly enough at the cafe, and although it wasn't usually overly pleasant it was never this bad. Here and now he wasn't a professional providing a service, not a person at all. He was less than a dog on a leash -- he was a thrice-damned trophy hung around Harding's neck! With every lewd stare and "playful pat" the young man's distaste for what the end of the night might hold grew closer and closer to actual dread. Worse, he wasn't allowed his knives while working... just the comfort of one in his hands, knowing he could protect himself if his worst imaginations came true...
The alley again, kicking and screaming. Blows rained down, peppered with insults. Clothing torn away. Spit and concrete pressed into his face. Wrists and legs held down. The taste of copper. Aching ribs, lungs burning with fire. And one by one they--
And in his trance Theo found himself scant feet away from the bar, money in hand, looking up. Something had made him look up suddenly -- the demon's voice within him? -- and the first thing he realized, off to the left, was that there was a familiar shock of red hair, suddenly seeming somehow brighter and more distinct than all the colors in the room. He didn't know how, but he knew it was her, and the name fell from his lips, half whispered, before he even realized it.
When she saw the younger come towards the bar after being 'ordered' by that man, Belle tried to look as if she hadn't noticed at all. Back to the umbrellas that she didn't totally understand. And nor did anyone else. She didn't really know why it made her so angry. Watching that slimy man treat Theo as he did. Certainly Belle wouldn't have cared less if it were any other man he was doing it to.
Out of the corner of her eye she watched his somewhat unsettled form come closer to the bar in the mirror. And his face light up as he realized who was at the bar and spoke the name he knew. She only turned to him vaguely. Belle was under the impression that if that man caught his little pet so much as looking at anyone he wasn't instructed to, Theo wouldn't have too much hope of an evening he would be able to get through easily. Assuming the vibe she was getting didn't already imply that. Her bright blue eyes glared at him with the knowledge of such a thing.
"Hey kid." Her voice came low, spoken into the glass she drank from, eyes turning away from him. "Order what he asked." And she waited for him to do so. With that, Theo would know she'd been watching. And chosen not to interfere.
Belle seemed a little shaken. "When you said Professional I didn't realize this was what you meant. You work for Synister?" Clearly this made their relationship, or whatever of it there was, awkward to say the least. "Not that I don't occasionally visit Amour, but this-" There was a pause. "Look, I don't particularly care what you do-" Liar "-but this could make things...complicated." She was acting as best she could to at least pretend she wasn't concerned about Theo position, and it probably would have been convincing to anyone but him.
But she felt the need to protect him. Somewhere dark in her that she probably wasn't going to acknowledge. She was his Sacrifice, and with that came some sort of bound duty to protect. Not that she'd ever let him know. Her hand reached out to him after rummaging in her small bag. It looked like lipstick. Belle flicked the lid. A knife. She pushed it into his jacket pocket. "Don't you have a job to be doing." His drink arrived.
Her eyes turned back to the mirrors. And wondered if Theo's 'client' had anything to say.
Theo handed the bartender the money but his eyes kept straying towards Belle. He didn't know what to think of this situation, honestly. He was glad to see her, certainly, but after the way they'd last parted he wasn't really sure where 'they' stood. He wasn't especially ashamed for her to see him on the job... he just really, really wished it hadn't been this job. And then she started asking about work.
She was right. Things were complicated. Probably more-so than he'd realized -- certainly much more than he'd realized when he'd first applied at Amour scant few weeks ago. He could tell she had concern, and good reason to be. How he wished he could've told her he wasn't really 'one of them', that so far this was just a job -- one of the only really well-paying jobs he'd been able to find with his lack of qualifications. But the drink arrived all too soon; with it, fortunately, the small but immensely reassuring dose of protection she'd offered him. He picked the glass up, ice tinkling as it shifted in the colored liquid, and responded in muted tones.
"Yes... I guess I do. The price of being Glamorous."
The subtle message was, he hoped, clear. He was hers, first and foremost, just as he'd promised. Whatever tie his current employment put on him with Synister, he would not betray his oath of loyalty to her.
And then, all too soon, it was time to head back to 'that man'. To be a pretty little plaything again. Theo's steps were slowed with a touch of reluctance as he returned to the poker table, placing the drink down alongside Hardings empty glass.
Almost at once there was a hand on his shoulder, pulling him down uncomfortably. "Some friend of yours over there, kid?"
"... Just an acquaintance." He lied, holding his breath against the fetid waft of bad alcohol and stale cigar air that washed.
"I'm the one who's got you for tonight, little devil -- this isn't ****ing social hour." Harding growled, tightening his grip just enough to be uncomfortable. "I paid good money for you, don't forget. You are mine tonight, kid."
Theo felt anger rising from deep within, wanting to lash out and make clear to this patriarchal pervert that he wasn't some piece of merchandise to be rented... but he bit back. Now wasn't the time or place. He hoped he wouldn't find his concerns here were founded...
She found that watching him go, and staying put, was harder than she thought. Just letting him go back to that man seemed vile. But she'd prefer not to make a scene, or really think on why that was. However, her gut was telling her that this night wasn't just going to pass without some kind of conflict. Not that Belle had plans on being barred from Blasphemy any time soon. So she just watched him again from the mirror.
The way that large man seemed to treat him...It absolutely reminded her of what she saw backstage. If a man treated one of her girls like that, they wouldn't be in the area for much longer than a minute. There, however, she was in control. Here, that wasn't the case. She was, to the public, just a Fighterless Sacrifice. Manager of Nightshade. It was only half true now and things had changed.
Belle finished off the drink with the stupid umbrella, telling the barman to put it on a universal tab; she wasn't finished here yet. Tipping him an overly generous $20, Belle got up, hanging her bag over the shoulder. Maybe she'd go watch some matches. Might join some too. Or go to the other bar with the female barmaid she quite liked. She wasn't sure. It all depended on where a certain objective decided to go.
Either way, when Harding would look back, the red-haired woman had vanished. But he had not left her sights just yet.
And so the night wore on gradually, Harding wandering from one game to another. For a while after the poker match it was roulette. Then he lost a bit on baccarat before earning it back on the slot machines. Theo was there the whole time, mostly just a shadow and puppet to the craven gambler who got his drinks and performed the occasional ridiculous 'luck' ritual as Hardings felt fit. Blowing on dice when he went, briefly, back to the craps table was one way he had Theo 'help' him; rubbing a card across the callboy's cheek was, fortunately, as sexual as that got, but the more Hardings drank the more bold his touches were getting. It didn't take long before he was simply groping Theo openly, in public view, between turns gambling. Almost like he wanted to shame the young prostitute. Theo did his best to keep his composure and not react beyond an uncomfortable smile.
There was one point where the callboy's fate quite nearly took an early turn towards the expected end. Harding got up from a fresh hand of poker and dragged Theo somewhat forcefully towards the bathrooms. The young demoniac braced himself, expecting cramped stalls and awkward gyrations in his near future, but the half-drunk client simply had him wait outside like a leashed dog. It was a merciful break where Theo felt like he could finally hear himself think again.
Inevitably, of course, his thoughts turned to what Belle had said. Synister. Rapture. Complications. Perhaps if he'd job-hunted more, taken something more mundane and benign, he wouldn't have created this problem for them both. If he'd just... but what was done was done, with no way to go back on it. He was under contract with Amour Cafe for at least six months, during which time he imagined they'd make decisions about whether they wanted him... and in what capacity. He didn't know much about Synister or the way they operated, only rumors, but it was dark dealings. That hadn't really put him off working for a business they owned... but he hadn't anticipated a situation where it would come back around on Belle.
A heavy hand on his shoulder told him Hardings was back. "I'm feeling one more table before we move on with the night. What do you think, eh?"
"Well... I-" Theo's blood ran cold suddenly. He'd known this was coming for several hours now... but having it put in such stark immediacy he had to fight hard to subdue the urge to duck and run. He didn't want this man to sleep with him, to have his way with his body, to order him to do things for him. He wanted to be almost anywhere other than under Harding's controlling hand. He wanted to curl up under the blankets of his cheap apartment's cheap bed and just forget any of tonight had ever happened... save for running into Belle again. That one thing, her touch of kindness and concern, brief and fleeting as it was, made him want to remember this night.
He wished he was with her instead. Desperately wished.
"I'm thinking..." Hardings drummed his fingers on Theo's shoulder idly, then grinned and shook. "Blackjack. I haven't played any blackjack yet tonight. Yeah... that'll be a good game to round things out with." He teasingly looked down at Theo and ruffled the boy's hair. "With you, at least I'll have a hand that's always under twenty-one."
Theo didn't care to correct the drunken sod and tell him he was twenty four, instead laughing nervously before being dragged off to the tables once more.
One last table. And then things would go from bad to worse.
The night went on for Belle also. Watching the large man continue to drag her Fighter around like some kind of pet or toy. Luckily she was having a better time handling her drink than he was, which at least put her in good stead when she decided it was time to see if she couldn't end the boy's torment.
Blackjack it was. Unfortunately for him, Belle found her luck there. Not some fake show of it either. Belle had learned to hold a strong pokerface in her job, and it also served her well here. This was the conflict that had been coming for most of the night, and she was keen to get it over with, but not before wiping the floor with the golden-toothed monster.
Theo would catch her movements in the aisle next to them as they moved towards the table. The table for blackjack was a circle, it allowed for more than the standard amount of players, the dealer stood in the middle. And when Theo and his abhorrent client got on one side, Belle made sure to place herself across from them exactly. And made it obvious that she was keen in his little playboy. "Feels like it's going to be a good night for me. just a warning." Belle chimed, certainly looking cocky, daring a wink at her Fighter. It suited her, the sharp red nail tapped the table before she sat with the rest of them.
It wasn't long before the dealer called the last players, and started dealing the cards. She kept eye contact with Theo that seemed innately sexual for the most part, before flashing a look to his by now annoyed client "Best of luck to you all."
As Belle winked at him, he wondered if he even dared hope that this was actually happening. It seemed too good to be true, her coming to his aid like this. Hardings, for his part, immediately became aware that Belle was taking aim at him and his 'prize possession'. He leveled a scowl at her. "I make my own luck, lady." He rolled his shoulders and grinned a toothy grin at her. "And tonight, I'm a winner."
Theo certainly hoped not. Even if all Belle managed to do was show Hardings up, some part of him -- the voice of the demon deep with -- wanted very badly to see this grotesque man brought low.
Harding's gaze passed between Belle and "his" little devil, as though suspecting some kind of betrayal. "You said she was an 'acquaintance', eh? Not sure I like the sound of that." He pointed to a nearby empty chair at a slot machine, one that would put him somewhat removed from the game. "Take a seat over there until we're done. Only person with eyes on my cards is gonna be me."
Smiling genuinely, Theo nodded and took his seat. Just being away from Hardings was already a small victory. He was eager to see how all of this would play out, how Belle would do in the game. Even if she didn't win, the chance to watch her work a blackjack table wasn't something he wanted to miss.
The only thing Belle could really do was snicker at the man across from her. Sending a final glance in his direction. Almost like she had a plan of sorts. Not that she knew how well it would work. After all, she was sure if Theo went back having lost them a client, he would not exactly be understood too much. But she wasn't leaving him in his hands if she could help it. That man didn't even deserve the 'company' of the cheapest whore in town.
He wasn't completely stupid though, having sent Theo away for the duration of the game. A game that would sometimes last hours. Oh well, that's how this was going. Everyone else around the table could sense where the battle really was, and they were happy to watch it unfold. "If you say so big man." Her coy reply came as the first hand of cards were dealt, two each.
Time passed, card dealt and played. Belle bailed and won, other competitors fell out as they ran out of cash. Her pile was certainly getting higher. It was on her Ace and Queen run she decided to push her luck. "So..." She began examining her cards with a grin. "What's a man like you doing with a pretty little thing like that, hm?" Her eyes turned to glare at him. "Only, you two strike me as odd...If you get what I mean." And the tension at the table was heightened immediately causing a few more chickens to fold and leave the table. At the same time, that burning gaze traveled to Theo, simply there to taunt Harding. Her eyes were on him, in a very particular way.
Right now, she existed to piss the guy off. But not before she presented her cards, winning the round and taking his rather large bet for herself. "Oh, seems you're running short on chips. Wanna send your errand boy to fetch you more?" It was like she was trying to get something out of him before she made her real move.
She was of a certain disposition tonight, and it seemed she wasn't going to have to walk over the road to find it if this went well. She called it 'protective'.
Hardings scowled at Belle's attempted conversation. "That's my business, lady." He took a swig of his drink, downing almost half in one go, before putting it not so quietly back on the table. "Let's just say I'm not the kind of man who feels restricted by other people's opinions, savvy? Ain't nothing more to it than that."
Hardings scowled as he, with resentment on his face, surrendered his hand, giving up half of his not-inconsiderable bet. He leered at Belle. This particular table didn't do cash changing so if he wanted to stay in the game he really didn't have very much choice... but at the same time he didn't have a lot left in his wallet at this point. Most of Harding's money was already on the table, given he felt particularly invested in beating Belle. Reaching for his wallet and gesturing Theo over, he handed the young prostitute two twenties. "Make it quick, short stack -- I've got a game to play here." And he gave Theo a particularly hard "playful" smack on the rump to reinforce his meaning.
Theo glared at Hardings once the man's back was turned, then cast a much more hopeful -- and slightly inquisitive -- gaze towards Belle. She seemed very invested in this... more-so than he would have guessed considering their first encounter. The demoniac had considered reaching out to her again after that night, just to touch base, but no text he wrote ever felt right and his head swam with uncertainty. Yet here she was now, playing blackjack against the most deplorable client of his young career and giving him none-too-subtle looks along the way. Did she feel obligated because of their shared Name? Or was she doing this for her own reasons, because she wanted to?
Either way, he was grateful for it, and went off to get the chips with a swift step, eager to see how this would play out.
Once he was gone, Hardings slugged back the rest of his scotch and gave Belle a suspicious gaze, tapping the table for another card. "What's your interest in the kid, eh? You want a piece of him when I'm done tonight, we can split the fee 70-30." He glanced between his cards and the dealers, gesturing a hold. "Or is it something else? What's your stake here, lady?"
Passing her cards back to the dealer, who also seemed to be enjoying this little back and forth, Belle grinned back at the larger man, playing with the Scorpion Cocktail glass she'd slowly been sipping at throughout the game. Belle didn't need liquid confidence in any way, but she took it anyway. It didn't seem to matter to her actively how he treated Theo, but the fact she was here almost proved otherwise.
Almost.
"You'll need more than $40 to keep up with me." She stated, taking a drink. "If you don't mind me being so bold." She placed the drink back the deliberate slowness, letting the heat seep into her body. "Considering I just took a good few hundred from you I mean." Everyone who frequented any kind of gambling house knew there was usually conflicts, but this one seemed different. This wasn't simply drunken brawls, though the woman's face was certainly flush with the alcohol, but not seeming actively drunk. Just warmed.
She intended to keep it that way.
Theo gave her an almost hopeful look before he departed and she near on dismissed it. She had her own ideas, clearly. As did the other man. She placed a bet of 300 chips.
His offer was in the right direction but she chuckled to herself as if he were stupid. Which he was, before giving him a demanding glare. "Not what I was thinking." She seemed to overwrite his command to pause the game when she looked at the dealer. Belle obviously wanted to keep him as occupied as possible. Belle took an extra card. This round wasn't looking so good. She had 18, and wasn't going to risk another card.
She sat back grinning. "I just thought I'd take him off your hands completely. I'm not interested in other people's second hand goods." She turned her cards over at the end of the round. It was part natural and back self-harming to talk about Theo the way she did, but he wouldn't listen to her if she was going to bring his humanity into this.
"I can buy him outright if you like. Or we could bet on it. Depends on how lucky you feel tonight. And didn't you say you made your own luck?"
Twenty-two. Hardings muttered a curse under his breath. This fancy serpent across from him was taking for everything he had... and on top of that she wanted his little bed-warmer, too!
"I do, for your information." He paused, chewing on the end of a toothpick while fresh cards were dealt. His glare at Belle was stead, as thought he was trying to either memorize her face or place her. "I may be down but I'm not out. Not yet."
He tapped the table for another card. Twenty. He grinned.
"You're that keen to him, eh? I got him across the way." His gaze became wry, testing her. "He's already 'second hand goods', lady. Relatively fresh still, sure, but no blank page. Cost a fair sum, too -- a lot more than what you've got on the table." Hardings leaned back slightly. "Synister doesn't price their goods cheaply, y'know. Course," He tapped the toothpick as though it were a cigar, obviously an ingrained habit. "I get something of a... house discount, given my line of work." He let it sit at that, not saying anything more, though Belle could likely assume from the way he talked that he wasn't actually part of the organization. A supplier, perhaps? Or maybe something else...
There was a long pause from Hardings. "And in my line of work, we don't give nothing away for free, lady. You want the little devil that bad? Let's put it to chance." He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and pointed the toothpick at her. "Next five hands. You win three or more, you can have the strumpet for half what I paid for him. But if the house or I win three instead, the price is triple."
"I know your type. You like to shake things up, stir the waters, make people you don't like feel a bit uneasy. You think you're hot stuff." His eyes narrowed. "Let's just see how hot your stuff really is, lady. Deal?"
