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Mentions: Vincent (@Estylwen), Asterion (@The Savant) Interactions: Emily (@LanaStorm), Emilia (NPC)
High Hopes in Highfair
They rolled in overnight, the thugs lended to Clash by the Commissioner, they weren’t trained spies or diplomats of any sort. Muscle, the type that Emily admired, the type with big biceps and iron fists that smashed skinny drug dealers’ heads in and collected loot. Maybe there should have been more prep or maybe she didn’t care, getting shit done was her motto and testing the waters was also in the cards for dear Detective Clash.
The stall was set up over night, designer goods for not designer prices the men looked like models selling tiny shirts, crop tops, bags and more to the consumer-frenzied residents of the district who gobbled up designer swag though this attention did not bode well for the mafia in control, twas neither high nor a fair show of force by the Blue Bloods yet nothing was fair in the city the fabled Del Guarde would see that shortly.
With her people captured and eventually escorted out of the turf thus ended the short-lived disruption campaign Emily had set out for her ‘enemy’. Next time she would come deep with tanks, SWAT and death and despair with a hint of chaos should things ever escalate to such a bloody and dangerous extreme. Such a world would exist if a webb slinger found itself flying about in that district but that was a different beast to tame. Of course as the Iron Rose governed the line to Detective Clash always remained open for parlay.
Speaking of.
The subtle crackling of the connection permeated the room, soon followed by the unmistakable sound of someone responding on the other end.
“Detective Newport,” Isabella articulated with smooth clarity, her voice imbued with the blend of affability and the undercurrent of intimidation. “I believe we have a few pressing issues to go over. Your recent… endeavours in Highfair have not escaped my attention and I deemed it only fitting to extend the courtesy of a dialogue before we consider any additional measures.”
The sound of loud crunching was heard on the other end of the encrypted line before a response came back to the Mafisio. “Hey girl, you should of copped that Mariana crop top they were selling. That shit would of looked good on you!” The voice came back, smooth like honey but there was truth to it designer ain't cheap unless it's from a blue blood! Clash stood in her Gold Rim penthouse with little but a sports bra, shorts and socks as she chomped down on a pantina shiny green apple.
The corner of Isabella’s lips curled into an almost imperceptible smirk, a sign of her amusement at the detective's audacious indifference.
“Highfair has a profound appreciation for sophistication, Detective, and as for your men…let’s just say they decidedly faltered in their execution of such.” She allowed the silence to stretch, the subtle pulsation of music echoing in the backdrop.
“Mmmm…” Emily chomped on her apple a bit more as she took in the woman's words. “You must of a been a naughty girl recently if the commissioner is sending me after you. My guys are more tuned to kicking ass than like selling stuff? So how do you want to resolve this, you know I’m super reasonable. Hate beating up biz but you gotta work with me babes.” Emily leaned up against her kitchen table top pondering the situation.
“Naughty, you say?” Isabella pondered. “It's quite interesting how you frame it as if I was the one encroaching on unfamiliar territory. Something quite naughty as you so nicely put it.” She clicked her tongue with an air of disapproval before pressing on, her voice slightly chilling.
“As for how I’d like to resolve this…I appreciate reason, Detective. It’s an admirable quality, especially in a city with such short supply of it.” Her crimson orbs, though they could not be seen, narrowed with intent. “But I believe there’s a larger issue at play here in actuality. You must be familiar with Vincenzo Accardo, yes?”
“I meant your drug trade Isabella, if anything us showing up helped you but what about the Boss of Throned Roses? Pray tell what the hottest, meanest, strongest boss in the city has to do with this?” She inquired with peaked curiosity.
“Your enthusiasm is duly noted,” Isabella remarked, skillfully circumventing Emily’s reference to the illicit drug trade. She had no intention of entertaining the detective’s provocations, especially when the subject danced dangerously close to her operations. Instead, she leaned into her calculated redirection.
“As for Vincent,” she elaborated, her tone deepening into a more sombre timbre, “his curiosity concerning your matters is far from accidental. The Thorned Roses readily capitalize on discord to advance their schemes. You may regard their maneuvers as trivial distractions, but I promise you that Vincent’s scrutiny is seldom misdirected. His aspirations possess the propensity to evolve into something more…deeply personal for those who don’t tread carefully.”
Pausing, Isabella allowed her words to sink in.
“You and I, Detective, are far too valuable to be relegated to mere chess pieces in his game. So perhaps it’s more worthwhile to discuss how to ensure the Thorned Roses’ roots don’t grow too deep.”
Chomp.
Another bite came from the apple. “Mmff… Well let's hear it then, no one is off the table from the commissioners justice but I'm hesitant to I don't know attack the king of Nocturia ya feel me?” The detective chirped back.
“Attack the king of Nocturnia? I wouldn’t dare suggest such a bold and unsophisticated move. However,” Isabella retorted, her voice dwindling to a chilling, subdued timbre, “as much as I’d prefer to let him gamble with his illusions of grandeur, there are matters far more personal at stake.”
The raven-haired woman exhaled a soft sigh, feigning a subtle air of anxious reluctance.
“Vincent has someone close to me- a piece I cannot afford to lose. And while you might hesitate to make a move against him, I assure you, you are already part of his game. His eyes aren’t just on my domain; they’re on the Blue Bloods, your operations, perhaps even your commissioner”
“So here’s what I propose: an exchange of interests. You bring me whatever scraps of intel your men have uncovered about Vincent’s recent moves-anything that suggests what he values most or where he’s vulnerable. In return, I ensure Highfair’s borders remain firmly intact, and I grant you my insight into how Vincent operates. You might find it useful when he inevitably turns his attention to you.”
A yawn is returned to the Rose’s detailed plan and plot.
“I like games Iz, but I also like games that are exciting and not boring. Intel is a nerds game, and I’m not a nerdy bitch.” Clash responded in her clash ways.
“So he has someone you love, a boyfriend, husband or mistress?” The detective giggles mischievously. “How about I help you bust him out of Vincenzo’s perfectly sculpted Mafisio hands and you cut me into some of your biz or give me one of your enemies you hate so I can take them to jail. Nocturnia’s prison is just a resort for criminals, so it's a win-win but you didn't hear that from me.” So the counter was presented.
Isabella’s gaze shifted to the glow of the cityscape beyond her window as if lost in thought.
“Since you’ve been so delightfully direct, I’ll return the courtesy. Yes, he has someone I care about-family, in fact. And as much as I despise acknowledging Vincent’s hold, I won’t deny the truth of it.”
“Either way, cutting you into my business is no trivial ask. But…a rival? That’s a different conversation entirely. The question becomes whether you want one worth your time, or one who won’t make it past the first skirmish in your little crusade.”
“Gimme someone easy, need a collar if it isn't going to be you. Commissioner doesn't care, or cut me in. I’m a better business partner than any of the Mafia, they will all betray you in the end to get ahead. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to max my pension girl.” Her eyes gaze to the skyline, her private island awaited thousands of miles away.
“Very well. Allow me to draw your attention to Asterion Kairo, the illustrious figure Nickel deems a ‘visionary.’” She pivoted away from the window to her desk which held an intricately bound file that contained the detailed dossier on the individual she had just named. Her designated sacrificial lamb.
“Kairo’s Echo Chamber currently stands as the foundational pillar of his empire, an enterprise entirely constructed upon exploitation, deceit, and, undeniably, vice. Excluding him from the equation would not only fulfill your commissioner’s desire for retribution but also reinstate a semblance of much-needed stability in the city.”
Not that Bella wasn’t aware that she was one of the reasons for that instability. Nonetheless, she pressed her lips together, her tone now imbued with the air of someone sharing an invaluable secret with a confidant.
“Kairo’s exact abilities remain somewhat a mystery, but I have enough intelligence on him to ascertain he is far from an ordinary opponent, if you catch my drift. So, it would be wise to prevent him from using whatever he has against you by taking any necessary precautions.”
“D’aww c’mon that is not easy, you don’t know his power. He’s a fuck-you distance away from where I’m at, in a rich spot too. Easy my dear Izzy, is our young strapping Kairo wrapped up in NPD caution tape to take him away. So I could help you take Nickel with some manpower, you keep the district and hand over our vice addicted friend. A big win for you, and maybe me. Or or or, just give me something monetary wise when we spring your lover. I wanna narrow it down to one or the other. If I was you I’d want to save my man… but I’d also like to have him on a big comfy silk bed in Nickel, so it’s a tough call for sure!” Emily looked at a big ass map she had sitting on her kitchen planning what to do next.
“Okay, here’s what I propose now: I’ll assist in gathering the intel and resources needed to tip the balance against Kairo. In return, you ensure that Vincent’s grip weakens, starting with any connections he might be exploiting.” The woman was sure she couldn’t be the only one who wanted to take the man down a notch.
“Sure Izzy, but who’s your man though?” Emily wasn’t known for taking boyfriends, was she?
“Who he is less important than what he represents. A reminder that in this city vulnerabilities are weapons waiting to be exploited,” Isabella replied. “Today, it’s my family. Tomorrow? It could be yours.”
“I mean what’s he look like, what’s his name. We’re breaking him out right doll~?”
“His name is Mathieu. Mathieu Delacroix.” Isabella admitted, her tone softening for a fraction of a second before hardening again. “ And while I appreciate your enthusiasm, this is going to be far from a simple jailbreak. Vincent doesn’t make mistakes. If we move recklessly, it could cost far more than just Mathieu’s freedom.”
“We’ll get him out, pinkie promise. I’ll call you when I know more, and likewise for ya right?”
“Of course.”
As Isabella concluded her conversation with Detective Newport, she reclined in her chair, her eyes drawn upward towards the ceiling. A long sigh escaped her lips, suggesting a moment of reflection. Her meticulously curated facade, often a mask of composure, momentarily wavered, revealing a glimpse of deeper emotions swirling within her—exhaustion, frustration, or perhaps an unsettling blend of both.
The door to her office opened with a creak, allowing Emilia to enter the space. She carefully navigated the polished floor, pausing just a hair's breadth from the imposing desk that dominated the room. “I trust the conversation was…illuminating?” the auburn-haired woman inquired, her voice imbued with curiosity.
Isabella turned her head slightly. “Illuminating, yes. Reassuring, no.” She motioned toward a nearby chair. “Sit, Emilia. We need to debrief.”
Without hesitation, Emilia took the seat, her posture straight and attentive. “How cooperative was she?”
Isabella let out a soft, sardonic chuckle. “Cooperative enough—for now. She’s agreed to assist with Kairo, though her terms are, as expected, self-serving. She wants a prize for her trouble, either monetary compensation or a target she can parade in front of her superiors. A collar, as she so elegantly put it.”
Emilia arched a brow. “And you offered her Kairo?”
“I offered her the opportunity to focus her attention on him, yes,” Isabella replied. “For all her bravado, Newport has no love for Vincent, but she also has no real understanding of the depth of his power. Kairo, on the other hand, provides a useful distraction. If she’s eager to remove him from the equation, so much the better for us.”
“And what about Vincent? He’s not the type to be appeased by half-measures, Bella. Sending Newport after Kairo might buy us time, but it won’t satisfy him.”
“No, it won’t. But it will disrupt his plans. Vincent wants Kairo eliminated, which means Kairo poses a threat to him somehow. By involving Newport, we shift the focus onto Nickel and force Vincent to play a more defensive game. It’s not about satisfying him—it’s about outmaneuvering him.”
Emilia furrowed her brow. “But aren’t we risking giving him too much room to maneuver by letting her interfere in Nickel? Kairo might retaliate—and hard.”
Isabella didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she rose from her chair and approached the window, staring out at the glittering lights of Highfair. Her reflection in the glass seemed almost spectral, a ghost of the woman she had been before the burden of her family’s legacy and her father’s betrayal shaped her into the Iron Rose. “Risk is inherent in every move, Emilia. My father once told me that the strongest player on the board is the one who turns a weakness into a weapon. He believed that until the day I buried him for his own treachery.”
She turned back to face Emilia, her expression shadowed by the burden of memory.
“Mathieu isn’t just my brother; he’s the last thread to the life I had before all of this. I will not let Vincent sever it. But if I misstep—if we misstep—then I may well condemn him to the same fate as my father. But that is the weight we carry with every decision.”
Emilia nodded gradually. “So…while Vincent focuses on Newport and Nickel, we’ll hopefully gain the breathing room needed to find Mathieu and prepare for the next move?”
Isabella inclined her head. “Exactly.”
She watched as Emilia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her remaining unease evident but not expressed. Instead, the other woman exhaled slowly.
“Understood. I'll head out to Kairo's myself then and see what I can find, and continue having the others gather intelligence on Vincent’s movements. If there’s any opening to secure Mathieu, you’ll still be the first to know.”
