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.
So he was going to put up a fight. Of course he was, not that she minded. Of course Blasphemy weren't cheap. She new personally they weren't cheap. But their employees were worth the money, not they ever got a good share of it. That why Belle always tipped. Generously. Maybe that was why she was so interested in getting Theo from his grasp. Why exactly she was so pressed to do this was beyond anyone but her.
Belle sat up straight, and she stared him down from across the table. "No one knows my type." She smiled "But I know mine."
Her eyes met with the dealer for a second. She looked at the card she'd been dealt. A 5 and an 8. She cringed inside, a 13. It didn't matter. This was how it was playing out, and at the least she didn't want to get Theo into any more danger. But it wasn't unlikely this man would forget what transpired here. And he was likely to take it out on the smaller boy. She tapped the table.
A 3. 16. Shit. Either way, Harding hadn't taken any more cards, so it wasn't worth playing on. She bailed, much to Hardings content she imagined. The Dealer played a 4, 10, and 5. The next round. She bet 250 and got a 9 and a 5. Blackjack was not a hard game to play. But right now it felt like it.
"What do you do then?" She asked the question. A man liked Harding...they usually liked to talk about themselves in excess. Somewhere, she wondered where Theo was. Certainly, he should be here to watch himself become a chip to their game. Tapping again, along with the dealer, a 6. 20.
Belle could already see how this was panning out. It seemed it was going to come down to the last round. How frustrating.
At Belle's comment about him not knowing her type Harding raised an eyebrow and gave a dry chuckle; other than that, though, he let it go without further comment. The game was beginning to go his way, and he was content to play his cards and watch the red-haired challenger across the table.
When the next question dropped Hardings' initial response was a strange one; rolling his head on his neck, he caused a series of cracks and pops as he rotated and stretched. "This is the part where I say 'I don't mix business and pleasure'..." A stupid grin came over him, perhaps a sign that the alcohol was taking its toll on him. "But that would be a ****ing lie. Heh."
Hardings' next hand came up a nineteen to Belle's twenty, and the dealer went over at twenty-four. He scowled, then shrugged.
"You might say I'm in acquisitions and distribution. The... exact... nature of my business varies from job to job, but the gist is that people pay me to get things for them." It was a barely concealed way to admit to being a smuggler for Selene's underground black market. The man shrugged once more. "Everyone has their needs... which, I suppose, is what this whole game is about really, huh? Heh heh hee."
The next round came and Hardings' hand came up a ten and a six. The house was still dealing as he asked. "Your turn. What business are you in -- other than mine tonight." He chortled in self-amusement at his barely even witty comment.
She listened to him halfheartedly, more trying to keep his thoughts split between what he was saying and what was going on...Or was she doing something more with the time he spent occupied. Something maybe she shouldn't be doing?
When he accused her of her business being his, she had a 9 and an ace. 20. She smiled somewhat vacantly. "Actually..." She began, counting her chips up against his. While she fidgeted somewhat. "If anything, he's my business more than yours." Belle left the somewhat cryptic response in the air for a while before giving him a real reply. "I'm the manager at Nightshade, if you really want to know. And you won't be getting an invite anytime soon." The dealer drew a 22.
Belle figured that if she was seeming forthright, he might not be so quick to guess. She played A 10 and an ace.
So where did that 9 go?
She only had to win one more time and she was home free. She bet all her money this time, recklessly, taking a drink. The dealer sat with three cards at 21. She kept her cards to herself. This round hadn't gone so well. A 1 and a 4. She tapped. A 7. Again. A 10.
It was going to come down to the final round after all. Belle already knew she was going to win.
It just depended on whether she got away with it or not.
Theo returned with $40 worth of chips just as the final round was beginning -- there had been a line and someone up ahead had drunkenly disputed something or other with the money changer, which went about as well as one would imagine. In the wake of security carting off one sauced trouble-rouser the young man had quickly and quietly gotten Hardings' money changed and made his way back as quickly as possible.
He sized up the situation at a glance and was stunned with silent anticipation; Belle had all her chips on the betting circle and the cards were being dished out. Hardings had recovered slightly but not overly. Everything looked as though it was coming down to this one last round. The tension was thick.
"What kept you??" Hardings, after Theo placed the chips down next to him, angrily pulled the youth down to hiss into his ear.
"There was--"
Theo was shoved roughly away, almost toppling over; Hardings' gaze fell upon Belle again with vindictiveness. "Nightshade? Then what the **** business is he of yours?"
The gambler glared at Belle with drunken, angry eyes. He sensed, more than guessed, that she had a hidden agenda here. Still, it was too late for either of them to pull out of the game. The last of the fateful five rounds was upon them.
Hardings' cards came up. Four. Jack. He tapped. Three. Tapped again, this time with some hesitation. Seven. He cursed his luck and scowled down at the cards... then turned his gaze on the dealer's hand. King. Nine. The house was holding their cards at nineteen. Belle had to beat that in order to win the bet, and most of the money left on the table.
Theo watched with undisguised, rapt attention. What were her cards??
In some part, Belle wanted to finish with a perfect score, just to rub Hardings face in it. But she could tell he was on edge at the moment anyway. But going just one over made her look suspicious as well. No matter how she won, he would make a scene, and he'd probably 'accuse her' of cheating'. In that moment she was glad to have given Theo the small weapon. Just in case.
Hardings had folded, all hope of him keeping his little devil was on the dealer, and the dealer didn't seem to like Hardings personality too much either. But she imagined he liked cheaters less, and Belle didn't want to get banned, for sure. But on top of that...
She didn't really have too long to decide, looking at her cards avidly. She had only a $10 chip at her side, the rest was in play. Just in case he demanded they go on for whatever reason. Though it wouldn't be likely that the house would let him go through with that. Other people wanted to play, after all.
So she let her cards down. A King and a Queen. How ironic. Whether she cheated or not on those two were a matter of keen eye. If there were anything to see at all.
Belle smiled a crooked smile. "That's that then." And glared at the man across from her, apparently got giving a look to Theo. "How much do I owe you then?"
For a long, silent moment, Hardings looked as though he was going to erupt. The man's glare traveled between Belle and the cards disbelievingly, his face bright red and his temper clearly on the verge. All eyes were on him -- Theo, Belle, the dealer, and half a dozen bystanders. Everyone waiting, watching. Seeing how this would play out.
Hardings breathed in deeply. Exhaled. His eyes closed for a long moment. His body visibly sagged.
"Six hundred. Cash or chips, doesn't matter to me." His voice was altogether too calm and relaxed. He even smiled at Belle a bit, though it seemed forced. "Nicely played." There was an undercurrent to those words, a hidden edge. The man was looking at her in a certain way. Estimating. Calculating. On the surface it was amicable enough, but that alone was unsettling. Hardings wasn't a man who wore 'amicable' well; it didn't suit him at all.
Theo, for his part, was caught somewhere between elated and nervous. Belle had pulled him from the clutches of the most unsavory man he could imagine buying his 'services', true. And the fact that he was literally hers to do with as she saw fit for the rest of the night didn't bother him at all. It was the sense of something else, something not yet fully realized, the proverbial 'other shoe' yet to drop that unsettled him.
Hardings fancied himself a winner. Somewhere deep down the young demon knew he wouldn't take a loss like this one well. Whatever face he was putting on for now certainly wouldn't last.
There was currently in excess of 5 grand on the board. Belle was pretty pleased with the nights results. She flung to $300 chips his way as she got up. "Thanks for the game." Was all she said, glancing at Theo as she rose, while the house changed up her chips into smaller denominations, seeing as the table didn't do straight to cash exchanges. Standing, she graciously accepted the three new chips, nodding to the dealer.
Her gaze returned to Theo. "So. Seems you're mine now." She was glad Hardings hadn't tried to take out his anger on him, or there would have been a scene no one would have wanted. "I don't have plans to hang around." Her words came, commanding but not harsh, as she turned and walked away, leaving Hardings with just above 10% of what was on the table at the end. He lost out either way.
Belle got to the exchange, putting 5000 on her card, and using the rest to pay the tab, and then some. With nothing more than a courteous nod, she looked down at the smaller boy. "That could have gone worse." There was a look in the back of her eye, however, that said maybe her intentions for him were not so far from Hardings own...
That look in Belle's eyes made some part of him almost shiver, though for good or ill he wasn't sure. She was, after all, Belle Faustus -- his idol. What he'd feared was that Hardings would use him -- and maybe even break him -- and then leave Theo to pick himself up in the tall man's wake. Used and discarded like a newspaper, like a sandwich wrapper, like a used condom... that last one especially so. Even if she hated him, even if she used him roughly and didn't care anything for his well-being afterwards, there was a difference. It was hard to put into words... maybe it was their Name, or just wishful thinking on his part... but at the least Theo felt safer in her possession than that man's.
Though, as they turned and headed out, Theo couldn't shake the feeling that their business with Hardings wasn't concluded yet.
"Yes, it certainly could have, miss."
And it wasn't.
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The night air was thick and warm as only this part of Selene could be. It smelled of the press of humanity, as though the ghosts of every streetwalker pushed by the unlucky pedestrians on the sidewalks as they went. Even at this dark and obscure hour the shadows were uncomfortably humid and dense. It made walking about a muggy affair at best, and at worst...
"So, where to, miss?" Theo asked, trying to pretend he and Belle weren't already somewhat acquainted. He wanted to express his gratitude, to thank her profusely a dozen times over for sparing him whatever that man might have done to him, but, at least for now, he maintained a veil of professionalism. "My contract with mister Hardings had me at his disposal until 11am. We can go anywhere within Crescent Moon as long as I check in with the Cafe Before noon."
That included, he suggested but didn't actually say, Nightshade -- it was assumed that Amour patrons wouldn't want to visit the competition with Blasphemy right next door, so there'd never been a need to make a rule against it. Belle could of course take him anywhere and he wouldn't object; he'd check in when he needed to and tell them what they needed to hear.
For a short while the pair stood outside of Blasphemy before anyone decided to talk her into spending anymore money, and then go and loose it. Five k. Certainly, Belle was not pulling the short straw tonight. Just a glossy card and a vertically challenged boy. But she, deep down, didn't mind. Their exit had gone better than she could have hoped for. Really, she had expected Hardings to at least go for Theo in some way. But she was counting her lucky stars tonight, and they obliged.
He kept up the front of not knowing her, and it was probably for the best. It was warm, but still, a touch cooler than inside, the noise coming through the doorway slightly. Belle looked down at him sideways. With heels under toe she stood a good foot over him. It was quite nice, really. After his question she left a silence, looking then away. She huffed, glad to be out for once. It was late. Nearing on midnight, but it was busy. This place was always busy.
"My name is already on their client list." The words came wholly out of nowhere. "As long as they get paid, and they can get someone they know, me, to vouch, they won't have a problem with what's happened here." The only thing that seemed missing from the woman's appearance was a cigarette. The idleness of her stance was almost odd without it.
"And we aren't staying." She finally admitted, beginning to walk up to road, the click of heels following her as Theo would do, and as she expected him to do. Soon enough a taxi pull-in came into view. And one could only wonder what she was thinking.
He supposed he should've reacted when Belle explained she was on the Cafe's client list. Some part of him, at least, felt like he should, though why wasn't immediately clear. Some vestige of the upbringing his parents had tried to foist on him, he decided -- sentiments about commitment and exclusivity that had vastly more to do with not breaking tradition than respecting the will of the individual to make their own decisions. So after a moment the youthful demoniac merely shrugged and fell into step behind the red-haired woman who owned him both for the night and so long as they both were to live.
Though he did quietly wonder which of his co-workers she had 'been with' in the past.
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Meanwhile, back inside of Blasphemy, a certain man had just hung up his cell phone after making a very pointed call to some associates. The manager of Nightshade... well, the night hadn't gone as he'd hoped, but the man who'd called himself Hardings knew the scent of opportunity when he smelled it. As he'd explained to the redhead when their blackjack game started, he was a man who made his own luck, and as luck would have it he had a prime target. She may have beaten him in blackjack, taking both his money and his boytoy in a sweep of the cards, but he hadn't been quite as drunk as he'd let on. Nor had the dealer missed the disappearing nine and other cards that had miraculously changed in her favor. The wheels were already in motion to turn his bad "luck" into a lucky score with a sweet side of payback; he'd notify his Synister contact after it was all said and done. Heck, might even net a nice little 'thank you' for teaching Rapture's pet fox where not to stick her nose, and the organization could rightfully claim they'd had no hand in the scarlet lady getting mugged and roughed up.
Luck. Feh. One doesn't run a business on luck. As Jack L Harcourt sauntered out of Blasphemy, turning to catch a distant look at the departing pair who were now a ways down the street, he lit a heavy cigar and growled out a plume of smoke like an agitated dragon. His boys were on their way... but this was also personal. No one stole from him and got away with it -- not on the mainland, and not here on Selene.
Unlike Theo, Belle was unconcerned with Hardings and whatever he made of the situation. It was likely she just couldn't be bothered to think on the matter further. She'd dealt with it, and that was as far as she wanted it to go. Not that ignoring the possibilities of retaliation would help the prospects of it happening. For now, she was happy to depose of the matter.
Belle glanced a look down at her companion. For a second the look on her face was some kind of admiration. It was certainly more of the look a beautiful stranger would receive, rather than a respected partner. The look was fleeting however. The taxi lane was busy with people coming and going, groups, pairs, and loners. Such a variety of people in one place. It was pure humanity. Crescent Moon cater to sin, and Belle was one of the opinion that sin was a most human element.
Her Synister was showing, in that regard.
"I hope you don't expect me to treat you any better than Hardings." The words came almost without emotion save for a somewhat curious undertone. "People like him and me. We're the same." Lost in the crowd, speaking openly without fear of other people listening in was common. No one else cared about what anyone else was saying. Belle certainly didn't. "We'll chew you up and spit you out." Her glare narrowed, working through the crowd.
"Aw..." Theo looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes, briefly playing the cute little boy he looked so much like. "I have to wait until morning?" He wore a playful pout, in such a way that it wasn't clear whether he was teasing her as her sexual plaything or as her Fighter.
The demonling became a touch more serious, reverting fully to his 'professional' mask. "Rough treatment doesn't bother me really, miss. I'm used to that, and much more." Belle would be able to tell from his tone that Theo was being completely, bluntly honest. "I've been used and tossed away before -- it doesn't bother me as much as it might some people." His gaze traveled down. Technically he should have had no issue with whatever Hardings would've used him for either; true, he wasn't quite as used to this profession as he made it seem, and partially it was the objectification that made him uncomfortable with that man... but, looking back on it, it was more than that. "I don't have any business being picky -- this is my job, after all. He just... had an aura of entitlement, like he'd always gotten everything -- and everyone -- and I was just the next disposable amusement. But you, miss..." His character acting was faltering. "Seem the kind of person who's earned her success, and the right to do whatever she wants."
It was true, and he'd always viewed her that way. Theo shook some sense into himself to prevent going completely candid and admiring on her. He didn't know if Belle meant what she was saying, but if she did he certainly wouldn't have a problem with it. Maybe she was just like him, but if so she'd chosen to be that way and was for her own reasons. The only reason the man called Hardings would ever have was his own ambition and entitlement. And that alone set them apart as far as he was concerned.
"In any case, miss," He gave her a truly professional smile, turning sideways to better keep up in the crowd. "Please use me to whatever pleasure you desire."
His reaction made her smile, his stupid face looking up at her as they braved the busy crowd. She really wasn't sure what to make of him still. Whether it was just because he was trying to keep up appearances or not, Belle wasn't quite willing to figure out. She had other things on her mind than simply trying to work out his demeanor. "I didn't have any other plans, I can assure you." Her reply was somewhat dry. Enough to assure her truth, she didn't take him off of Hardings hands out of the kindness of her heart.
Soon enough, the pair hailed a taxi. Briefly holding the door open for her Fighter. Belle wasn't the kind of person who ever seemed in a rush, and when everyone else was she almost draw attention to herself. Ever calm, ever calculating. Before she too entered the vehicle, however, she did send a passing glance down the road. Just in case.
Getting in after him, shutting the door and drowning out the noise from the street, she simply told him an address "20, South District, Elatha's Dwelling." passing the driver a fifty bill "Keep the change." It seemed Belle was a fond tipper. Maybe because she'd been in a similar position once, working odd jobs that didn't really pay so well. Belle then proceeded to shut the slider across the gap between them and the front. She laid back, and the taxi pulled away. For the most part she remained silent. Almost like she was willing to continue to act like strangers, almost a complete opposite from earlier.
There was some part of this that felt strange. Her night was going to have ended in a similar way regardless. Not that she'd have done this for any other worker at Amour, no matter how 'well' Belle knew some of them. So maybe there was something else.
Turning to him a few minutes into the journey, her eyes seemed to be shining brightly, looking for something, and she smiled. A hand leaned over the backs of the seats, her fingers slowly played with Theo's golden hair, a thumb lingering at his cheek. No. He was safer in her hands, and the lackies Hardings had sent would be mad to start a scene inside Lunar Cycle. It would draw too much attention to them. And to Synister. He'd be hunted down and killed before sunrise. Safety was gorgeous. And so was the little Devil.
Without speaking a word, the red-haired woman's lips met his in silence, only really held back by the not-so-private setting. She pulled away, index finger brushing the underside of his chin before her hand withdrew. The look she gave him was a devious one, before her eyes trailed back to the lights beyond the window.
Eventually, the modern exterior of number 20 was outside. With a quick thank you, she left the taxi, waiting for Theo to follow her, not waiting for him. By the time he reached the door, the house lit up from below, the door was open, and he was in the den of the lioness.
It was a pleasant thing, her smile... not something he'd seen much before. In the few instances during her rise to fame when she'd been willingly photographed it had usually been either a forced, unpleasant smile or a strong, dour look that her face wore, and in nearly every paparazzi photo she'd worn either a scowl or a neutral expression. Thinking back, he hadn't really seen her smile during their brief encounter at Nightshade, and the only grins she'd worn back at Blasphemy had been donned with other purposes, expressing other aspects. Here, if ever so briefly, she had smiled... just to smile.
Theo found himself quite taken by it.
Once in the taxi he began sorting through his thoughts, trying to come up with a way to express something -- he wasn't even quite sure what -- about her smiling at him. For several minutes it was only a half-formed thought that wouldn't coalesce. And just as he thought of something to say and was turning to say it, that smile, now with a soul-affixing look in her eyes, met him and all thought was instantly lost. Her fingers toyed with his hair and drifted across his cheek. He had been touched many, many times since coming to Selene -- all manner of touches, in all manner of places, by all manner of persons. This was different. Electrifying. Maybe it was their Name bond. Maybe it was his adoration of her. Maybe it was all the tension of the night being transformed from stress into relief. A mix of that and more, no doubt, but whatever her touch was doing was both melting and thrilling at the same time. His breath caught in his throat.
And then, almost out of nowhere, she kissed him.
It was a brief thing, but it left a mark on Theo's mind almost as deep as his Name. Suddenly the voice inside was completely silent, not a hint of a whisper anywhere in his mind -- not gone, simply... hushed. Sitting transfixed, he could do little more than wait out the rest of the ride in hushed silent anticipation. He'd been kissed before, too -- many clients liked that sort of romantic touch -- but that kiss had been something altogether else. And that devious expression she'd had...
... maybe she had a touch of a demon in her as well, he wondered.
When at last Belle's private residence came into view it proved to be basically what he'd envisioned her having. Suitably elegant and spacious, with touches of design that certainly suited her persona. A far cry from the tiny public apartment he occupied. She was strides ahead of him, direct and unhesitating; not quite running but definitely not strolling either, Mephisto approached the entrance to her private sanctum. Part of him was still coming to terms with the reality that he'd be spending the night here. Certainly they'd be safe from reprisals; that wasn't even really on his mind anymore. This was the home of his idol, and he was about to walk inside.
One step, and he was over the threshold. And whatever she had for him, and would have from him, was about to unfold. He took that step, and quietly closed the door behind him.