On the walk, he considered this news that not even Sully knew what was going on. This meant a rogue element. Someone who was acting outside of the confines of the rules. Not that there were really any rules. But this was an act of aggression by someone they did not know. This frustrated Miguel. It meant more work and the potential for more things like this to be handled. This meant more of the community paying for something they never started. He kept to himself, following behind the boss.

They arrived at the Flying Lotus and were ushered into a back area. Someplace private and safe. Miguel found an area where he could stand and watch so as to not be in the way. He leaned against the wall, relishing the violence happening to this monster who believed himself justified. It was exhilarating watching the man get his just desserts. The only drawback was that Sully was a very straightforward man. He was keen to get the job done, quite possibly because time could very well be of the essence in this case. The torture ended much too soon for Miguel's liking. The threat of pain was just as important and nothing was more lovely than slowly taking his time with a victim.

Miguel inclined his head once he had his orders and watched the boss leave the room. With a sadistic smirk on his face, he approached the body and began the work of making it as easy to move as possible.

--

The work was completed and done with a certain air of elegance if he did say so himself. Body parts were marred to avoid detection and spread through areas of Lisden. They would have a hard time connecting anything to the Unseen. That was, if they ever found the parts to begin with. He stopped home briefly to change. His clothing dirty from his work at the fire and from the body disposal. Miguel could not stand being dirty. His new clothing consisted of a pale cream button up, dark blue vest and matching trousers. He opted only for his watch, leaving all other adornments aside since the weather was so warm. The button up was left open a few buttons down and exposed a bare, bronzed chest. The sleeves were rolled up in an attempt to keep cool.

Miguel walked the familiar path from his home to the Flying Lotus. This place was like a second home for him, he spent so much time there.
He had to support Espie after all. Even if he had a certain amount of disdain for her occupation. He approached the bar, taking a seat next to Sully and grinning. "I apologize deeply for the delay. I am all yours, what may I do?"

Soot covered Ret’s skin, sticking to the thin gloss of sweat which had been present ever since he stepped out of his apartment. His mask and glasses made sure that most of the black dust stayed out of his eyes and lungs, but the stench of burning wood and rubber still permeated everything, from his hair to his clothes. Inching forward in a sea of people, Ret’s steps were slow and calculated, his gaze stuck above everyone’s head, peering into the cloud of dark smoke.

Whatever it was that the people around him were concerned with, Ret felt no interest in it. The streets around him were flooded with a cacophony of voices, all of them panicked, all of them concerned. Ret couldn’t have felt more liberated. No matter how many peoples’ shoulders grazed him, how many feet stepped over his shoes, nothing could steal the feeling of brilliant levity coursing through him. For every frightened person, every crying child, every angry peasant, there he was, content.

Content in his own knowledge, the fact that for each person asking “Who?”, Ret knew the answer.

His next step floated down, and stopped, for he had reached the place where he wanted to be the most. In front of him, a burning visage matching his own brilliance stood, the black soot as dark as his mind was bright. He couldn’t help but marvel at it. Bodies lay on the streets, shrouded in tarps, which were covered in the same soot ingrained on the corpses they covered. Water stood in stagnant pools all over the streets and sidewalks, painted a grisly reddish brown color from the mixture of blood and ash which swirled around in them. Even wetter still were the cheeks and faces of the sobbing citizens, huddled around the bodies of their loved ones, or stood around, gazing on in a sober state of sadness at the place which they used to call home.

A long, still moment had passed before something stirred Ret to move. His eyes shifted towards a young woman, a cloth wrapped around her face, taking a slow trot amongst the dead bodies, a small clipboard in hand. She took glances at the bodies, made a mark on the paper, and then inspected the tarps more closely to record something more substantial, perhaps a name or ID number. Ret hurried over, his eyes widening under his dark shades. He stood directly in front of the woman, his words taking a moment to finally jump from his throat.

”H-how many died?” He stammered oddly.

”Pardon?” She eeked, surprise heavy in her voice.

”How many, uh, people died today? In the fire?” He asked, a bit more calmly, attempting to sound solemn, as if he cared about the bodies that lay level with his feet.

”Uh, I’m… not quite sure at the moment. We’re at about twenty people, why? Did you have family that may have been hurt?” She questioned, her green eyes glaring at Ret with suspicion, as if they could see through the dark tint of his sunglasses.

”No, not at all, I’m just with a local news outlet, just trying to collect information. Trying to let people in the other parts of Korven and Eden get the bigger picture, ya know?”

”Oh, you are? Which one? The Korven Crier?” Her voice felt a little more curious more than anything, but this conversation had lasted long enough for Ret’s patience.

”Yes, that’s one, now please, could you give me as accurate number as possible?”

”Ah, yeah yeah. The volunteers told me they counted about thirty-seven deaths. That’s the unofficial number, though. They’re still combing through and picking out the bodies, and they have me taking the official count. I’m up to twenty at the moment.”

”Thirty seven, huh?” Ret muttered quietly, breaking eye-contact and looking around to process it. A moment passed, and his gaze rose to meet hers once more. ”How many injuries beyond those?”

”Oh gosh, now that I don’t know. There must’ve been at least a hundred injuries, everywhere from people who got burnt, to people who got trampled, all kinds of stuff.”

”A hundred, huh?” Ret uttered quiet, even a bit surprised himself.

”But don’t quote me on that! They’re still going through the building, I don’t know how many they’re gonna find!”

”Hmm, yeah. Ret said dismissively, as he turned and walked away, satisfied thoroughly with these new bits of information.

These new steps he took away from the smoke and soot filled plaza were just as light as his last, as he dove back into the sea of scrambling ants that milled around him. His spirits rose higher than the smoke, his prider thicker than it’s inky plumes.

He knew something no one else did, and it felt fantastic.

Esperanza smiled. The awkward way Quint held the child was quite adorable. It was obvious he didn't have much experience with children. But people in his line of work or her brothers generally did not. She supposed it was a blessing. She lead the way back to the smouldering building, calling out for Anika's parents. It took some time but finally, someone responded.

"Over here!" A man was kneeling next to a woman whose face as badly burned on one side. Anika instantly lit up and squirmed to be out of Quint's arms. Once her feet touched the ground she took off and threw herself into her father's arms. Her mother smiled painfully and stroked the child's hair. Espie approached them.

"I'm glad we were able to find you. I was worried."

"We were too. Thank you for taking care of our little girl," the man said over his daughter's head. Espie offered them a small smile.

"If you need anything at all, Our Lady of Mercy should be able to help. We'll find a place for you to stay should you need it." The gratefully accepted this information. Esperanza spent a little more time with the family, to ensure they were doing well. Once satisfied she turned back toward Quint.

"What an exciting day, huh?" she asked playfully, heading toward the back of the crowd. It seemed that things at the scene were well under control. "Better yet I get to work later. Will you be coming by for a visit?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. She paused at the sidewalk which would toward her home.

@Gelatinous Cube

Ret could feel the smug smile creep across his face as the ever familiar voice of Marcus growled over the phone at him. Before he could even voice a reply, the line clicked, and Ret let a slight chuckle escape his throat. The absolute loathing that Marcus always directed towards Ret never ceased being amusing, as it was immensely satisfying that the Unseen were repeat customers, even despite the disapproval of many among their ranks, even high ranking ones as Marcus.

Ret tossed his phone across his room, onto his couch, as he walked into his bathroom, stripping off his sweat stained clothes to shower. The Unseen were used to his habit of arriving when he felt like it, but this situation was different. Usually, Ret would be delivering information regarding the movement of the Kings around the neutral sectors, or surveillance photos of possible rapists or murderers. Today, although, was different. Someone had taken grave actions against innocents in Unseen territory. Surely the gang would be out for blood. He’d make sure to take fifteen minutes instead of thirty in the shower.



Having slipped into some of his finer attire, Ret straightened his facial mask and slid on his red-shaded glasses before stepping out of his apartment. Out on the street, Ret began his walk, noting the sun has fallen and the sky had turned a pleasant pinkish-orange, driven to all be shades of red through his glasses. Wind began to blow as the heat from earlier in the day had finally given way to a more enjoyable warmth, thankfully not too hot as to make Ret regret wearing one of his favorite jackets.

A harsh bump jolted Ret awake, and he realized he’d be staring at the sky for far too long, knocking into a young lady that had been traveling towards him.

”Christ, watch out! Ret spat, examining his jacket and shoes for any marks, wiping some stray dirt away from his pants, never turning to face the woman.

He could hear the woman behind him bark some sort of insult at him, but falling quiet once she realized he had already turned the corner, never once having looked at her. What a cocksucker. The woman thought.

The situation had already fluttered miles away from Ret’s head, having been replaced with his giddy excitement. Transactions were always his favorite, the trading of information always provided some sort of high for him. His glee was even further increased by the sight of neon window signs along the shop-fronts and bars of Korven coming alight, filling the busy plazas and neighborhoods with buzzing, colorful hues of pinks and blues. Nightlife was always his favorite, even if his love for sleep constantly battled with it for his undivided attention.

Slowly, a creeping realization slid into his mind, and his fingers began sliding slowly across his khaki denim, finding the hard metal of his pistol tucked into his waistband. A heavy sigh of relief flowed out of his lungs, as he thought he had left the weapon at home. His excitement had clouded his mind, and he bit his lip, thinking of how angry he would’ve if he’d been caught without a weapon.

As the bright, intoxicating lights of the Flying Lotus became visible in front Ret, every other thought besides that of business left his mind, Staring at the door, and the bouncers who eyed him, he straightened his jacket and stretched his arms and legs out.

You are smarter than every single person in this bar. Never forget that.

The same motivational thought always flew through his mind at a million miles per hour before his business meetings. He lived by it, and he was the smartest man in Morvai, so it had to be true.

Stepping forward, Ret greeted the guards.”Good evenin-” Before he could even finish his sentence, the bouncers pulled Ret towards them, and patted him up and down, harder and more impatient than usual. The stout man on his right found the weapon in his waistband, and yanked it out quickly, pushing Ret backwards in the process.

”Mind explaining this?” The man barked, as the other drew his own weapon and trained it on Ret.

”Whoa, whoa, come on Percy, you know I always keep it on me! You can hold it until I’m done talking to bossman! I’m cool, man!” Ret raised his hands slightly has he spoke, showing the guards he meant no harm.

”Y-yeah, he’s right Percy. The other, younger guard turned to his counterpart, and his gun began to fall.

The large man on the right stared at Ret, and then turned his gaze at his partner, his chest rising and falling with anxious breath.

”Right, right. My bad. Just, on edge, seeing as the whole ‘situation’ going on right now.” The guard spoke, his hands moving around with a nervous realization that he had overreacted.

”Yeah, it’s cool. Just, don’t scratch it or anything.” Ret said, sliding his way past the guards, growing impatient.

Ready to become the most attractive peacock in the bar, Ret felt his ego deflate as he found the bar devoid of any attractive women on the dance floor or other men trying desperately to impress those women. The only men in the bar seemed to be Sully and a few of his underlings, including a certain Miguel Hidalgo, a man Ret recognized from past transactions. Ret fancied the man’s sister a bit, but he’d save that bit of information for another day. Shame, he had no one to impress or show off in front of. He rarely ever expressed his inner peacock, but they knew him around this place. Well enough, that is, that he felt comfortable breaking out his few fine clothes and colognes around them once it was time to do business.

Sully and his companions sat at the bar, bathed in the dim blue and purple lights that emanated from the liquor cabinets. The rest of the club was dark, as per usual, with the various strobe and disco lights soaring and sliding across the dance floor. All of which, including the stage, were absent of any life, other than a waitress dutifully wiping down tables that were already clean.

”Awful busy in here, Sully!” He chirped, finally ending his observation of the club, and stepping out of the doorway towards Sully, who had been staring at him for quite a moment. ”Now let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Ret lifted the sleeve on his right arm, revealing his brand tattoo, turning it towards Sully.

”I’ll give you a discount, seeing the position you unfortunately find yourself in today, Sully. Only fifteen-thousand credits tonight.”

@CaptainSully

Quint breathed a sigh of relief when they found the girls parents. Both that their search was over and that they were alive to be reunited with their child.
He let the squirming child down and watched her run towards the man and woman. He decided to stay back and let Esperanza handle things, she was clearly better at it than he was. Sure, he could bluff his way past border guards, security checkpoints and even fool sniffer dogs, but here he was out of his element somewhat. Situations like this were more within Esperanza's skill set.

As they parted ways, Quint waved as they left to go and take in the unknown. Today was just another way Korven chewed people up and spat them out, but at least they were here and not in Lisden.

"What an exciting day, huh?" she asked playfully, heading toward the back of the crowd. It seemed that things at the scene were well under control. "Better yet I get to work later. Will you be coming by for a visit?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. She paused at the sidewalk which would toward her home.

"Yeah, to say the least. Something about this doesn't feel like an ordinary electrical fault. Sully and your Brother seemed tense..."
Quint shook his head and turned back to Esperanza, no sense worrying too much about it. It was Unseen business, apparently. If Quint was needed for anything he would be there, but until they asked there was no getting involved. He respected The Unseen, and knew their practices well enough to know what kind of distance he should keep.
"Oh, you better believe I'll be there. I need a drink to get the taste of smoke out of my mouth," he said as he realized how the smell had gotten into his clothes as well.
"Do you want me to walk with you?" He asked her. Asides from his genuine fondness for her company, he knew what kind of grubs came out of the woodwork during times like these. There were always small-time crooks looking to take advantage of the panic, and if one or more of them were to see a lone woman with one leg walking on her own they would be like sharks to blood.
Esperanza was tough as nails, and anyone who knew her brother would know not to fuck with her, but Quint wasn't going to be the guy in the torture seat for letting anything happen to her.
All that aside, Esperanza was one of the closest friends Quint had in a world where he really had few people to truly count on.

@eclecticwitch

Miguel grinned and accepted the offered drink. He sipped it, enjoying the cool bubbly beverage. After all of his hard work, it was lovely to refresh with a cold drink. He considered looking into something harder, but they had more work to do. There was no way he was going to dull his faculties with liquor. It seemed Ret was going to join them as well. This was certainly going to be an entertaining trip to say the very least.

He continued to sip his beer, listening to the groundworks of a plan get set. His mind drifted a bit but he was pulled back when Sully addressed him directly. The blonde licked foam from his upper lip and grinned. "I'm all your's boss. I'm ready for whatever you throw at me." He winked at Sully. "Just let me know what you need me to do and consider it done." After the loss of his sister's leg, he lived for the Unseen. They helped him get financially back on his feet as well as allowed him to look into the bastards who stole from him.

In came the very familiar face of Ret. The grin on Miguel's face spread. "Welcome, friend. It has been a while since I last saw you. It'll be a pleasure working with you again." He extended a hand to shake. "Have you seen Espie lately?" The question was innocent enough. He had his qualms about her chosen profession but he did like to keep tabs on her gentleman callers.

@Firecracker_@CaptainSully

-----


Esperanza laughed lightly. "Sure, I'd be glad of the company." She hooked her arm through his and walked along side him back toward her apartment. She catted idley about things that been going on. A crazy bar fight that had been broken up. The price of some food items rising. Nothing of consquence, just Espie being her usual chatty self.

When they reached the apartment building she let go of Quint. "Thanks, I'll see you tonight, okay?" She patted his cheek lightly before making her way up into the apartment. The building was a bit dilapidated and some of the wallpaper was peeling from the hallway walls. They lighting was dim and a couple of bulbs needed to be replaced. She entered her very clean apartment where she lived with Miguel. It was small but light. Plenty of windows and even a balcony where she grew some of her own plants. She entered her room where she rarely slept and into the shared bathroom. Quickly she showered and began the process of making herself up.

Her make-up was lightly done, accentuating already exotic features. Her hair was put into a loose braid which hung over one of her shoulders. Little metal roses with gold tipped petals were laced into the braid. Her dress was black with lacing around the neck, over her shoulders, low on her back and long sleeved. The bust of the dress was a tight clinging halter and buttons were done up from her neck down her back. At the waist, it belled out to stop at her knees. She wore fishnet stockings and a single red heel. Once satisfied with her appearance she left the building and made her way the short distance to the Flying Lotus.

The fire had put her a bit behind and so she did not have much time to sit and relax before she was called to sing on stage. Espie hopped her way to a single wooden stool and lowered the microphone. The crutch was laid on the ground at her foot. Thin fingers gently stroked the stand and she brought her ruby lips close to the netting of the microphone. As the music began to play she closed her eyes and parted her lips.

It was a telltale sign that your life was boring as hell when walking around aimlessly was exciting.

But here Jack was, walking around the less savory parts of Korven with hands in his pockets, and he felt more alive than he ever had. He wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, maybe a bar or a strip club where he could drown his sorrows and drool over some girl, shoulder-to-shoulder with other losers like him. A beer was sounding pretty good right now, and so was drooling over some girl in a revealing outfit if he had to tell the truth.

He looked up at the flickering neon sign just ahead of him. The Ghost Light Lounge, beneath it a smaller sign in red reading 'bar'. Way too fancy name for what was probably just a rundown watering hole. But what the hell, he wanted a drink, and this place had them. He pushed open the doors and made his way inside.

As he did so, he was greeted by the sounds and sight of a bar fight. A few undesirables all ganging up on some poor guy wearing this ratty green trenchcoat. Jack shook his head, approaching the bar but still watching the proceedings over his shoulder. The guy in the trenchcoat was putting up a good fight, broke a chair over some guy's head, a bottle over another's, before long he had taken out a crowd of four or five guys all hellbent on beating the shit out of him.

The trenchcoat-clad man approached the bar, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and plucking one into his mouth. Quirking an eyebrow at Jack, who was still staring at him, he pushed the pack towards him. "Want one or something?" the man asked as he lit up his smoke.

Shaking his hand, Jack replied, "Uh, no, I don't smoke. I just want to get a drink." He turned towards the bartender. "Give me a beer. Whatever's cheapest." The bartender slid a bottle towards him and pushed forward a brand scanner. Wordlessly, Jack pulled down his sleeve and allowed the man to scan his tattoo.

"You look like you're aching for something, and you just don't know what," the other man observed as he grabbed at the nearest bottle and took a drink from it.

"I... I guess? I don't really know, I'm just here to get a drink."

"No, you're here to find out how to feel alive again." A total stranger, managing to nail the exact reason he left Eden and journeyed into Korven for the first time in over a decade. Smart cookie.

"... Yeah. That's exactly right."

"Good luck with that." Almost as surreally as he came, the stranger made his exit.

Jack took another drink from his beer, pondering the man's words.


He wasn't sure exactly what he did to piss this guy off, but it must've been big, because now they were heading outside and taking their jackets off to fight. Jack had never been in a fight before in his life, and he wasn't exactly planning on starting now. So instead, he took the diplomatic approach.

"Hey, c'mon man, we don't have to do thi-" His words came to a halt as a fist barreled into his gut, knocking the breath out of him. The angry man swung again, hitting Jack square in the neck and knocking him to the side. Jack coughed, wheezing for a breath.

The other man grabbed him by his collar, hauling him up and throwing him into the wall of the bar. He began to charge.

For some reason, Jack stood there. He knew that if he didn't do something, that the man would ram right into him and he'd be walking home a bloodied, bruised mess. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Nothing, that is, except fight back.

"No, you're here to find out how to feel alive again."

The stranger's words echoed in his mind. This. This was it. He felt alive. He wanted to keep the feeling, the adrenaline, flowing.

So when the man was just an arm's length away, Jack socked him in the ear, causing the man to double over. Then came a kick straight to knee, bringing the man into a kneeling position. Looking around, Jack spotted a glass bottle, and brought it down onto the man's bald head. It didn't break over his head like Jack was expecting, but the satisfying *CLUNK* as it knocked the man out felt good.

Jack stood there over the defeated behemoth, a few other men watching. He even recognized one guy from work.

The guy from work stepped forward. What was his name? Jerry? Phil? Whatever it was, he raised his hand and asked, "Can I be next?"

"... Alright man. Lose the tie."


Every Saturday night, he returned to that bar. For the first few weeks they were fighting in the parking lot. After a while the bartender got in on it, and let them use the basement of the Ghost Light Lounge. Eventually Jack decided on a set of rules, and tonight was the night he would finally give them out officially.

The Ghost Light Lounge looked like it always did; rundown, dirty, with that bright neon sign trying to make it seem like it's fancier than it actually is. As Jack approached the bar, he noticed a few of the members of his little fight club approaching it as well, already loosening their ties and taking off their rings. They entered the bar and took a look around, Jack giving a nod to the bartender.

"Alright everyone, closing time! Go home!" the bartender, Ozzie, barked at the patrons. It led to a few grumbles, but they all complied and exited the bar. Ozzie nodded to Jack, and the group entered the back room. Through there, Ozzie unlocked the cellar, and the club entered the basement.

The group lingered about, and Jack backed away from them. Normally, he just said who would be fighting who, but tonight was a special occasion.

"Gentlemen. Welcome to fight club..."


Blood was pouring into his mouth from a gash inside of his cheek. A tooth had just gotten knocked loose. Salty sweat dripped into his wounds, giving him a sharp kick of mingled pain and adrenaline.

Jack slapped aside Ozzie's punch, delivering a cross punch straight to the other man's face. There was a wet *CRA-CAK* as Jack's fist connected with Ozzie's nose, and it gave Jack just another kick of adrenaline, that feeling of bone breaking against bone. It felt good. Made him feel alive.

"Stop! Stop!" Ozzie tapped out. That was one of the new rules Jack implemented, rule #5 to be exact. So with those two words, the fight came to a grinding halt, and Jack offered Ozzie a hand up which the older man happily accepted.

"Good fight, man. See you next week?" Jack asked, shaking Ozzie's hand.

"Ha! Maybe next month." Ozzie's quip led to raucous laughter from the others. Who you were when you were fighting and who you were when you weren't were two extremely different people. In a fight, Jack and Ozzie were monsters, feeling only rage. Once the fight was through, they were best buddies again.

"Alright, Phil and Zeke, you're up."


He could feel the blood pooling up in his mouth, but he just powered through and drank it. The stitches he had gotten yesterday for the gash in his cheek had come loose, and he had to keep tonguing at it to stop the blood from dripping out of his mouth. What a Godawful time too, because he was in a business meeting, discussing some new software for the accountants.

"I showed this to my man the other day," one of the accountants... Who was it? Allen? Paul? Whatever his name was, he pointed at Jack and continued, "He liked it. Didn't you?"

In response, Jack opened his mouth, showing off his bloody teeth to the table. A few just stared in horror and surprise. Some shuddered and turned away. The poor office girl that was fresh out of college fainted at the sight. Jack just shook his head with a suppressed chuckle.

"Yeah. I liked it."

Choking on her water, Monique brought her fist to her mouth as she coughed out the liquid that lingered in her lungs. She did not know that John had a wife let alone a family of his own. "Sorry!" she gasped out, finally catching her breath. "Went down the wrong pipe is all." she said, putting the glass to the side. It was apparent that she was a little flustered now, mad that John had hidden these facts from her. She would never sleep with a married man. "So is there anything else I can help you with Elliot?" she asked, her dark eyes staring deep into his.

”Any of his friends that you know would be a big help to me. Anyone that he comes in here with or that he is most friendly with here.” Elliot replied, looking back into her eyes, sipping on his Coke slowly. He had noticed her reaction, it didn’t seem like she had swallowed her drink wrong but rather reacted with pure shock. Still, he did not mention anything about it, she had already been enough help.

"Well.." Mo reached below the bar where she had threw the dirty rag from earlier. She placed it in a lifeless lump in front of Elliot. "John was pretty close with my boss, but he got killed this morning, before I got to work." She made a motion with her head towards the bartender. "Chris would know more about that than I would, since I wasn’t here yet. The fires at the apartment screwed me over out of a place to sleep." Monique pushed the rag closer to Elliot, signifying he could take a look at it, or keep if it he so chose.

"Besides that, his only friend I saw him with once in awhile was a young man named Brandon, or Brando, or something along those lines. Ugly little twig of a guy." Monique nodded, imagining the two together visiting TECHNOIR on occasion.

”He got killed? Damn. I’m sorry to hear that,” Elliot replied, surprised at the news. Monique acted in such a nonchalant way about it, like she was not surprised that her boss had been killed. No one should have to deal with that kind of thing. He glanced at the rag, noticing a large bloodstain on it, then frowned noticeably. No wonder he didn’t come to places like this often. Then he shifted his thoughts to this other friend of the missing man who she mentioned. ”Do you know where Brandon lives? Or where I might find him?”

”You don’t have anywhere to stay after work?” Elliot asked her, not sure where he was going with the question. Mo was a nice girl, too nice to be in a place like this. The fires earlier in the day had ruined many people’s homes and lives, he was saddened she was one of them.

"I’m not that sorry." she said bluntly. Though she quickly spoke again, "I mean no one deserves to die, but he wasn’t exactly a saint." Monique debated on whether telling Elliot about her pregnancy, and why it had came about. She decided against it for the moment, it wasn’t his business after all. Though she couldn’t help but feel a bit of devious curiosity of how fast she could get this place closed down if they knew underage girls were being used as sex objects.

"I don’t know anything else about Brandon. I could point him out in a crowd, but I never was interested in his life outside these walls." she shook her head. She technically hadn’t even started work. She always had the late night shift, saved for some of the more popular girls. That status would probably soon change due to her circumstances. "Yeah, I usually don’t end work until sunrise though." she admitted, watching Chris come over to speak to the two.

”Still, it must be pretty difficult to walk into work and find out your boss was killed,” The investigator stated, scratching the back of his neck. As a policeman he’d often hear news of his fellow officers being gunned down by criminals, but to hear that your boss was murdered as a civilian was another thing entirely. ”Well, just try to be safe. You’re a sweet girl, Monique. I hope you have somewhere to go.”

”But thank you for you info. You’ve been a great help. I’ll speak to the bartender.” Elliot said with a smile towards her, then rose out of his seat as Chris approached. He extended a hand to shake as he greeted the man, trying to make a good first impression.

Monique nodded and took her leave from outside the bar, she went back to the girls and started asking for favors to see if anyone would let her spend the night at their place, most of them saying they had no space for her, due to the overpopulating of the apartment as is.

Chris shook Elliot’s hand firmly, ”I don’t know anything about what happened, but I saw you talking to one of our girls and ordering nothing but a Coke so are you trying to do something fishy or do I have to call someone?” he cocked his head with a smirk, before letting go of Elliot’s hand rapidly. He did not want to cater to people that asked too many questions and didn’t spend enough money in the establishment he had been blessed with this morning.

”I’m not up to anything. I’m just looking for a friend that was a regular to this place.” Elliot stated. Taken aback slightly by the bartender’s rough tone, but not entirely shocked by it. Still, he was not phased by Chris’ words or his tone. ”He went missing a few days back, name’s John Costa. He spent a lot of money here, if I found him I’m sure he’d spend a lot more, maybe tip the bartender that helped me find him nicely.”

”Never heard of him.”

Chris stated in a lie, bluntly. He had served John Costa and his crew plenty of times, but with his new found gig he didn’t want to cause anymore attention to the bar than they already had this morning. ”Now if you don’t mind- if you’re not buying poisons, parties, or pussy. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He snagged the rag as well as Elliot’s glass off the counter, away from reach. He gave Elliot a stern look, hoping that he got the hint, and fast.

Mo, defeated; came back out to the bar and made her way back to stand next to Elliot, thinking of another thing she could tell the man about his missing friend. Something she hadn’t thought about in their previous conversation.

Elliot did not say a word as the rough bartender spoke to him, clearly lying. He simply looked the man in the eyes, completely unfazed by his tough guy routine. He was not an idiot, if Costa came here as often as he was said to then Chris would know well who the missing man was. He hated liars, especially ones that lied in such a dire situation as this. Costa could be kidnapped, tied up somewhere or worse, dead. He glared at Chris as the man turned his back and went back to his bar, then shook his head, turning to Mo.

”I know that asshole is lying.” The private detective said calmly, figuring out his next move. He had a name, and somebody to track down, but not a lot of information beyond that. Still, he had made due with less in the past. One thing was for certain though, he wasn’t going to spend anymore money here, especially when he got told off by a bartender.

Mo frowned, ”Don’t mind him, he’s got a stick up hi- before Mo could finish her statement a firing of gunshots rang through the building, patrons were not really any more shaken than the first time that this had happened this morning when Dicktator Joe was killed. However, most people that were still planted in this dimension began to panic.

Mo dipped down quickly, scurrying to the side of the bar rather than using stools for cover. A large man bellowed out, gunshots following again as he yelled in what could be seen in agony. ”WHICH ONE OF YOU MOTHERFUCKERS KILLED MY BROTHER?” he screamed, as the dancers, and some of the others began to zip away. Like cockroaches.

”What the hell?” Elliot exclaimed as he heard the gunshots go off, then dived down alongside Mo. He glanced towards her, then towards his ankle where his concealed handgun was tucked. He wondered if he should use it, if he did then it may paint a large target on him to be shot at. But he didn’t exactly want innocent lives to be lost to this crazy thug.

”We’ve gotta get out of her!” He muttered to his new friend, peeking over the bar towards the gunman. Another shot rang out as someone shot back at the large man, then another. The bar was quickly descending into a firefight and he didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it. He grasped Mo’s hand, then looked around for a backdoor to dart out of with her in tow.

Watching Elliot dive down, Monique was pleased that he wasn’t the blind heroic type. He would have been an idiot to try to shoot that man, and put a mark on his head as well as anyone related to him. Not saying anything, Mo nodded as Elliot took her hand though she felt the need to take the lead for a moment. Walking in front of him she led him the right way towards the back door, rushing through she brought them to a back alleyway. Looking up the two would see hundreds of windows, bars of metal and other materials. Plants, clothes and other debri hang across the buildings, making the alleyway dark and dank.

”Fuck."

The word fell from Monique’s lips softly, as she looked over to Elliot.

As they darted out of the bar gunshots continued to ring out, echoing inside the compact walls. He heard grunts and hollers, screams from the working women that tried desperately to get away from the danger. Part of him wanted to go back in there and try to stop the whole thing but he knew that would end with him dead. He was just one man, and who knew how many dangerous people were in there? He couldn’t even count all of the gunshots as they filled the bar with noise.

”Are you okay? What the fuck happened in there?” Elliot asked her, concern obvious in his facial expression. His mind instantly went to it being gang drama, the city was infested with those scum.

Then at that moment he realized he was still holding her hand tightly. He glanced into her dark brown eyes once more, lingering longer than he had before. It was at that moment in the clear light that he really took in her gorgeous features, having to stop himself from staring at her. She was nearly half his age, he had to get his mind straight. His breathing slowly calmed, and he wiped the sweat from his brow. The private eye almost reluctantly let go of her hand, then thought of where they could go next. They had to get away from this place, the police or more thugs were going to come crashing into it, both were bad news.

"...looking for someone in the northern sector called Garland…."

Adrenaline began to surge through the veins in Ret’s stomach, the name Sully had uttered was oh-so familiar to him. Before any words could leave his mouth, Sully had already pulled the sleeve back over his brand, and walked past Ret, towards the door.

Quietly stunned, Ret glanced down at his sleeve, dumbfounded at how easily Sully blew him off after demanding his presence so hastily. He almost felt cheated out of an opportunity to annoy the bastard. Ret’s head shot up, and his whole body had turned to say something to Sully, but the sentence stopped in his throat when he noticed Sully had left. Miguel, a few feet in front of him, greeted him and asked him a question regarding “Espie”, a name Ret had trouble putting a face to.

”Wait, wh-” Was all Ret could manage before a soft singing voice emanated from the lonely dance floor. It’s source was none other than the Espie that Miguel had referred to, sat on stage, looking dashing as ever. A strange man followed her far behind, filing into the bar and seeming to be the only one paying attention to Esperanza.

”Yeah, I see your sister, sitting right there singing to nobody.” Ret said, his voice falling flat with irritation growing. He glanced down, realizing that MIguel’s hand was still outstretched, and he gave it a half assed shake before shifting his stance and putting his hands on his hips.

”Can someone explain what the fuck is happening here? This cockhead Sully has his little attack dog Marcus call me, demanding I visit, and he just walks out?” Ret’s stance relaxed as his scratched his head and looked around at the other Unseen goons still in the bar.

”Guess I’m working with you guys, huh?” The whole arrangement didn’t sit well with Ret, as he was accustomed to being paid upfront. But, now with Korven in a haze and Sully in a tizzy, most of the business formalities had been thrown out the window. Ret didn’t like that. Although, he did like the sound of fifty thousand credits, more than twice his usual charge. He knew the Unseen were good for it, too. The gang adhered too strongly to their foolish sets of morals to go back on their word with him.

Ret’s gaze turned serious, and he locked eyes with Miguel.

”Look, either you clear your sister and her little friend out of here, or we take this to the back room. I don’t know that guy and I don’t trust him.”

Understanding the situation, and hesitant to kick his sister out, Miguel led Ret and the rest of the Unseen into a room at the back of the bar, leaving the bar to the lone pair on the floor.

Ret and Miguel sat down at a table, with the other men, and Ret began to talk, tracing imaginary images on the table with his finger as he spoke.

”Okay, first off. It was a total of four people involved with this fire. Names are Richie, Reed, Lytra, and your buddy Garland. They’re part of a group called the Upenders, logo marked as a skull with an upwards pointing arrow on top, painted orange”

As he spoke, Ret felt the men around his close in and listen closely to his words, obviously very interested in what he was saying.

”I, myself, caught Reed. I tracked him and his posse down after I saw them flee on video surveillance. I gave him a good wound to the knee and kick to the head. The first places you should hit are hospitals, perhaps small clinics around the Northern Sector. Look for gunshot wounds to the knees. Reed’s the new kid of the group, you find him, let him know the Unseen want his head, he’ll be singing in no time.”

Taking a moment to breathe and thing, Ret let out a quiet sigh, as it felt like the only thing that moved in the stiff and still room. Everyone around him waited eagerly for his next words.

”This group doesn’t have a specified meeting place, apparently, but I’m not sure I buy that. As soon as the group left the fire, they ran straight into the abandoned part of the North Sector, and then split in different directions. This shit was planned well ahead of time, and they seem to utilize the neutral parts of Korven to hide. They think the Unseen won’t pursue them, and the Kings probably don’t give a shit. Get your boys to stick to the shadows, and I’m sure they’ll find something.

Finally quiet, Ret sat back in his chair, resting his tense back. He began to look around at the attentive faces around him, and then at Miguel.

”So? When do I get paid?


@eclecticwitch

The walk home had been a pleasant one in spite of the days events and the unshakable feeling that there was far, far more to the situation than what could be taken at face value. Nothing reminded him of that more than the permeating smell of dirty smoke wafting up from his clothes.
Quint was craving a cold shower, and then after that an even colder drink. It didn't take him long to reach his modest apartment. The living space was certainly not much to brag about, but for just him it suited his needs perfectly. It was moderate and unassuming, a place where work took up a minuscule place. Best to keep work and home separate after all. If his apartment ever got raided, MorSec would find sweet fuck all.
Thankfully, thus far, nothing of the sort had happened. Still, no reason to let down ones guard.

He took his time in the shower, as he liked to do. The white noise of the water striking tile was a fine veil obscuring everything outside the glass and it gave him time to breathe and clear his head. It was a little ritual that had slowly become habit, owing to a necessary measure of calm required to deal with ham-fisted MorSec border security and angry patrol men. Not to mention your average Eden socialite...insufferable bunch of pricks they tended to be.

It was roughly an hour later that he made his way to the Floating Lotus. The familiar neon glow felt more like home than his apartment did and he felt a small smile creep onto his face. He was sure Esperanza would have started by now.
He approached the door, the familiar bouncers going about their clockwork routine of making sure only the right folks made up the Lotus' clientele.
He didn't notice Connor Sullivan storming out of the building at first, he was moving like a man possessed.
"Well, hey Sully. Long time no s..." Sully brushed straight past him as if Quint wasn't even there. Clearly he had more important matters to attend to than small talk. Quint could hardly blame him...he despised small talk.
"Alright then, catch you later I guess," Quint said to nobody in particular.

He approached the door and positioned himself for a pat down.
"Evening Quint, how's it hanging?" One of the men asked, familiarity easing into his voice.
"Can't complain, I guess. Awful business in town today, huh?"
"Yeah. Mr Sullivan was looking real mad."
"Well, woe betide the guy who gets in his way, right?"
"Heh, you said it Quint. Alright, you're all good. I don't have to tell you the rules."
"No sir. Hey, catch me later and I'll buy you a beer."

Quint took a moment to observe Miguel and a cadre of Unseen escorting...Ret fucking Shuzu into the back? Now just what in the hell was that little spy doing here? That anxious knot in his stomach was back again, and with a vengeance. The Unseen wouldn't call Ret unless they needed to find someone, and they didn't need to find someone unless that someone needed dealing with.
Don't even think about it, Casey. That's Unseen business, not yours.
Taking his own advice, Quint resumed his otherwise clockwork routine. Approach the bar, order a drink, pay for drink, find seat with good view of Esperanza, drink and enjoy.
Life wasn't all bad in Korven. But it's just like the locals always said.
Things can always be worse.

Her phone seemed to ring for an eternity, although in truth it was just a few seconds. Ana was doubtful that her father would pick up, expecting to be greeted by voicemail. The distinct beep of a connected call meant he had actually picked up. She had thought to leave a message. He was a corporate CEO and one of the most powerful men in Morvai. She felt so small compared to him, even with all her fame and fortune she was still just a celebrity. She couldn't make real change like her father. He could move the world if he had a mind to. She tried to speak but found no words. Her father's voice was deep and commanding even as he opened with a perfectly friendly tone.

“Hello, Anastasia. How have you been?”

“H-hey Daddy…” She had always called him daddy even on live talk shows. “It's been a while. I've been um... busy... but I'm okay. How's business?”

“Goes for the both of us then… being busy, I mean.” He then let out a small laugh, rather rare for him but he typically let himself loose when speaking with people close to him. “We’ve encountered some problems, but nothing too big.”

Typically, he didn’t want to speak about business when talking with his daughter, but it is what she wished to talk about. Suffice to say, Klaus was unbelievably unaware of his daughter’s nervousness in her speech despite priding himself to be able to spot these kinds of things. He then took out a cigarette and headed outside.

“Anyhow, I was thinking of visiting your mother’s grave later. Hopefully, you haven’t forgotten why.” His tone was joking, but he really did hope that she hasn’t forgotten her own mother’s birthday.

“Today's her birthday… I think she'd like that you still take time off for her.”

The phone sat lazily on her lap, she wanted to ask him to join her for lunch. They hadn't spent any time together at all lately. She often found herself wanting to spend more time with him. A girl needs her father and Ana, despite being a young adult now, still needed hers.

“I would think that she would want for you to take a break as well, hm?”

He paused again. He looked over to Leila who seemed to be gesturing something at him. That was when he realized that someone was at his door. Klaus motioned for her to tell whoever it was that he wasn’t at home and that he was busy. Leila nodded and then left for the door.

“Anyway, do you want to come with me? We could… hm, perhaps we can get some lunch after we’ve visited your mother.”

“OF COUR-ah um yeah I… that… sounds great. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

It was exactly what she wanted to hear. It occurred to her that paparazzi might be prowling at this time of day but she was still excited to see her father for the first time in a long time.

“I’ll get dressed!”

“Looking forward to it.”

He was rather surprised at her eagerness to do so, but it didn’t bother him. Spending some quality time with his daughter might be a good thing for him. Considering how most of his real interactions were with Leila and Jared, which says a lot.
With that, he stood up and prepared himself to get out.

"See you soon!" Ana ended the call and immediately jumped off the sofa, dropping her phone off her lap in the process. It made a soft thud on the carpet as she sprinted up the stairs to her room "Heading out Lin, see ya!" a barely audible confirmation is all she could make out as she entered her wardrobe. The wardrobe itself was about half the size of her considerable bedroom. It's sections had been meticulously organized for every occasion from formal attire to lingerie, each section was further organized into tops, bottoms, shoes, and accessories, arranged by colour. It was a worthy wardrobe for a fashionista such as herself.

She poured through her selections at lightning speed until she found a perfect summer ensemble, an off the shoulder half sleeve top in yellow with a flower print, denim shorts, some simple sandal wedges, and a mid brim sun hat. She collected a purse to match and headed down stairs again to collect her things and head out.

The old woman snuck around the dumpsters, careful about making noise. The fire earlier had distracted many people, leaving her free to investigate the garbage of the middle class. Sometimes good things could be found there. Food. Occasionally someone threw out drugs in an attempt to get their loved one to quit. This was very rare though. It was like her birthday when it happened. Sometimes every alcohol appeared. So many wondrous and delicious things. Not to mention old parts of things that she could sell. Garbage was a treasure trove.

Using an upturned bucket, she stepped up and began to pull apart the bags of garbage. The smell would have knocked down a normal person. But not this old lady. She might have smelled even worse. Mostly there were useless or rotten things. What she did find was an expired jar of peanut butter that had not been opened and a nice looking watch. It likely just needed a battery. She could pawn it, she was sure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shadows move. Hastily she tucked the peanut butter and watch into a pocket. When she looked at the shadows they looked completely normal. Coming down from the bucket she approached the shadows behind the dumpsters. They began to writhe and move as if coming toward her. She hissed like a feral cat at the shadows before running off.

She found herself at the burned entrance to Eden. There were people working to ensure that no one untoward crossed the border. A smile crossed the woman's face, showing what few rotten teeth she had left. "Little friends of the underside, hide me from their prying eyes," she slurred before walking through the gates to Eden. It was a rare chance she could come here. She was sure the garbage of this place was exquisite. Excitement gripped her stomach as no one stopped the old woman, her slow and steady movements not alerting the busy task force.

Once inside she ran as fast as her old, arthritic legs could carry her. This was, admittedly, not very quick but she felt as if she were running like the wind. She came to rest at an old graveyard. Hunger pangs caused her to stop. The old woman ducked behind a mosoleum and opened the jar of peanut butter. She scooped out the old contents with her old hand, putting the ambrosia into her old mouth and swallowing it down with some difficulty. The day was beautiful and the gods had blessed her this day. She cackled quietly to herself as the shadows of the graves threatened her.