The Assassin and the Courtesan
The halls had candles in sconces lining the way, creating pockets of soft glow and patches of shadow down the stretch cream colored walls. This mood lighting made it very easy for someone to slither undetected, while the oriental wallpaper was accented by the lighting choice. It was very eastern and reminiscent of Theodosian style for a Brigton bigwig's home, thought the assassin as they slid through the shadows. Unnoticed. The Remington household was almost making this too easy to enjoy. Sighing and continuing to navigate to the back quadrant of the exquisite home, the passed busts of ancient figures and various art pieces showcased on their route to their high profile target. A servant then entered the hall from the main hallway that cut through this particular manor. The leather gloves on the assassin's nimble hands curled around their trusty blackjack, its flat head itching to strike. Thinking better of it, the assassin turned and melted further into the shadows, and let the bumbling servant pass without any trouble. It would not do to get too overzealous with violence. Snorting, the assassin resumed the prowl for their target, whose door happened to be at the end of this seemingly never ending corridor.
Treading lightly on the dark wood floors, a gloved hand reached for the ornate handle, and silently slipped inside the darkened room. Hugging the wall closest to the door, they observed the scene in front of them. Two rather large windows faced the western side of the room with rich navy drapes hanging from golden curtain rods. French doors trimmed in dark wood lead out to a patio, and overlooked the massive gardens of the estate. Baubles and trinkets of a rich playboy were strewn throughout the room, a set of polished armor on one side, a case of untouched first edition classics on the other. Typical. Asingle candle flickered beside a massive canopy bed, centered along the wall opposite of the doorway, which was currently occupied by the particularly handsome target.
Dominic Remington laid back casually on his bed waiting for his beauty that persisted that she needed to freshen up before they had their fun. Caught up in visions of his courtesan, he was blissfully unaware of the tri-tipped sai that raced toward him. He died with a content look on his face as the blade slashed through his left carotid artery, never knowing what happened. Clean and neat. Just how the assassin liked kills. Dancing toward the body, they removed a glove and lowered the hood attached to their long cape. Starting a soft prayer for the departed, they made to touch the successful hit, when a soft ruffle of fabric caused them to pull back. Cursing Kami for getting her into this, she turned towards the ensuite and directed their killer glare at the recently freshened up woman, who pouted and glared right back.
"Now was that really necessary? I mean could you not have discussed things before bloodying up the sheets? The maids will have an absolute fit when they see this mess."
Raising a brow, the assassin looked at the well dressed female who had decided to crash the previously perfect kill. Recognizing the famous courtesan known as Brielle Greysilk, the assassin was impressed. Not only did the doll dare to sass back at her, Ms. Greysilk was wearing a full traditional pale pink kimono, inside a mighty Brigton family's home. She either lacked common social graces, or rather the doll realized this taboo and confronted it in a cultural showdown. Delightful. A doll who can keep up with the real world. Such a rare beauty, too bad time is short.
Slipping a sebon from her long sleeves into her waiting palm, she released an exasperated sigh. Too much violence. Makes me look like a novice caught with their pants down. The silken woman merely looked on with amusement as the assassin began to get closer.
"Come now, there's no need for that honey," she purred. She adjusted the flowers placed in her long fawn locks, and looked back to the sulking figure. Blue eyes met a swirl of hazel. "I really did not see a thing."
Again, a sigh slipped through, and the assassin flipped their hood back over her face and tugged on her glove. The game is still upon us, how will you play painted lady? The assassin reigned in a smirk as she stalked toward the famous Doll of the Brigton Court. Eyebrows crushed together as the woman's face contorted into a confuse frown, and the assassin wasn't quite sure why. Raising their hand, and without turning around, the sebon flew through the air. Snuffing out the candle - the only source of light in the darkened room. The last thing that the doll saw before there wwas no longer light was the figure of the omoshiroi woman who has single handedly killed Dominic Remington. The assassin disapeared behind the woman, and struck out hard with the black jack. The little leather thing really did enjoy cracking a few skulls.
Laughing quietly to no one, and finishing what she had started, the assassin let herself out by slipping through one of the grand windows, landing nimbly on the ground. The Putaro and the draining body, a book should be written of this night.
()()()
"Good lord my head hurts, what did Mic pour me last night?" I thought as a vicious ache raced through my skull. Not bothering to open my eyes, I stretched but stiffened suddenly. For some reason the words 'last night' sent a chill down my spine, and not the good kind that curls toes. In fact, thinking more about chills, my back did feel a bit damp, my clothing from last night sticking to my spine. Very unusual since I never... oh how revolting! Not only did dampness seep through on my back, but stickiness as well. "Nanda Mic, what were we up to last night..." My voice froze as I looked at the scene next to me. Dominic Remington, the heir to the Remington Railway, lay pale and handsome as ever, but drained of his blood. Dead, he laid next to me in a mockery of a night written about a fairytale.
My scream could have awoken the dead, but thankfully just two maids came rushing in. Looking at what lay before them, they were quick to jump into action, Brigton's Captain of the Guard was called, and I was brought into the drawing room directly off Dominic's bedroom, next to his bathroom, while a doctor assessed the rather large goose egg that blessed my forehead. As he examined me while I lounged on one of the vintage couches, he assured me that given a few days the swelling would go down, and that the headache wracking my brain would cease with rest and some of the herbs he had given me. His diagnosis given, he packed up his belongings and turned to exit the oval sitting room. As the older gentleman left, the younger Captain of the Guard, Captain Uricha entered.
Ah, on to the part of the morning I was really dreading. A conversation with the stoic sheriff himself. More like an interrogation about what was afoot last night, and the careful man was not known for skipping over details. This could last awhile. What a wonderful cure for the deep ache inside my brain.
"Ms. Greysilk."
"Captain Er-ree-cha"
"I trust that you are feeling up to discussing what happened last night," he said, annoyed at my over exaggeration of his family name, while pulling out his trusty pad and pencil.
I gave a little pout. "And if I was not..." his blank stare bore into mine, "then I guess we would still find ourselves stretched out in a Remington parlor discussing things," I continued. "Perhaps I should call for some tea?"
"What transpired between you and Mr. Remington last night?" Captain Uricha responded, changing subjects. Inwardly I let my eyes roll. All business with this stick in the mud. Too bad he was much smarter than the average sticks I shared company with, though I could not help but rile him just a bit further.
"Before or after bedroom time?" I asked sweetly. "Because I am sure that a man of your intelligence is quite aware of how a typical night is spent between a client and I, Captain, considering how often your brother receives my company at your household."
The young captain bristled. His dark mane of a pony tail shifted back over his shoulder, and gave me the notorious Uricha glare. Too bad I'm immune to such things pretty boy, I thought impishly.
"Ms. Greysilk I'm sure you're aware that many of Brigton's wealthiest citizens are beginning to introduce more caution into their lifestyle, and I am sure that my brother could be convinced of the same thing, especially if your services are found to be associated with those of the Hand."
I tilted my head in the picture of confusion, with even a hand being brought to my lips, though I understood his underlying threat. I would have to be careful of what I revealed to him, or I would no longer be playing in my game.
Picking at a wrinkle in my blush kimono, I played my first move.
"Were you always this much of a delight Captain? If so I fear that I may have selected the wrong Uricha brother to pursue." His blank stare ensued, and I gave him a perfectly executed sigh of defeat. Seemingly tired of beating around the bush and playing a game with words, I finally released details he was demanding. "Mic, I mean Mr. Remington Junior," I corrected myself blushingly, "escorted me up to his bedroom once his father's cocktail party was slowing down last night. He promised me his arm for the upcoming Rose Ball, a rather difficult one to get invited to even in my occupation, so I agreed and we made a night of it. Of course, we left only once the party had started to slow, we would not want to cause a scene," I tittered off to the man. "Retiring up to his room, I left him laying on the bed while I retreated to the ensuite to freshen up a bit, and when I returned there was something hovering over his side of the bed."
The captain took but a moment to dissect my words.
"Something or someone Ms. Greysilk?"
Damn him. I did not really want to disclose any information about the woman I had met last night, nor did I want to spend the rest of my working career inside a cell with only the stoic sheriff to keep me company.
Choosing my words carefully I replied,
"I am not sure I would call that wraith of a figure a someone. Their cloak was dingy and they had the worst sense of fashion I have ever had the pleasure of laying eyes upon, although I did not get the chance to mention such things to them before the scoundrel flew and attacked me! This bump will take weeks to heal, and I have a Tanarus ball to attend in three days! How will I ever explain my poor state to handsome William?" I added with a bit of whine.
The captain let out his own sigh at my chatterings, and he folded up his notebook.
"I have heard enough, Ms. Greysilk. Your statement will be taken into account with this investigation. I would recommend that you lay low and recuperate for a few days, and invest in some form of self defense, as it seems the Hand is here to stay and appears to be targeting similar clientele to yours." How kind Mr. stick-up-your-shiri sheriff. Too bad I have pledged my services to your little brother, we have something going for us with this game we're playing, I thought while letting my head droop back on one of the pillows behind it.
I did not see Captain Uricha's gaze give me a once over, his head tilted just a bit, or his black eyes turn into slits, but I did hear his soft steps on the rug as he approached.
With his quiet tread, I could not help but be reminded of the way the assassin had stalked towards me previously. These two were from the same toraburu stone...how troublesome. He sat down by where my waist was and deftly reached out for one of my hands. A flash of a copper wrist adornment flashed underneath his dark jacket and I silently sucked in a gasp. My eyes widened at this and he smirked, showcasing his beautifully sculpted cheekbones. Leaning down toward my ear, his breath trailed beneath my shawl.
"I am letting you go for now, but know if I find out you are associated with the Hand that is terrorizing my city, our next debriefing will not be as friendly."
With the threat clearly given, he stood and straightened his uniform's jacket, and left the room without a backwards glance.
Troublesome indeed.
()()()
Two days later the bump on my noggin did not look any better, maybe even perhaps worse. I tried all the tricks in my courtesan handbook to cover the blasted welt, but my brown locks and powder pigments could only do so much to combat against the purple beast. Resigning to the fact that my current state of beauty was not going to be as flawless as usual for the Tanarus Ball the next evening, I decided to head out and find something that would at least make it seem like I had tried to be as porcelain pretty as the rest of the dolls attending. I jumped in my flats shower for a quick freshening up, dressed in a casual swath ensemble of printed and scarved harem pants with a loose midriff baring top. Drawing one of my typical shawls around my shoulders and tying it in place, I headed out to my favorite place to appease my materialistic tendencies. Off to my beloved Darlings shop.
XXXXX
The front door opened, and the scent of fresh jasmine and apple floated in, and the shop keeper managing the front smiled. Perfect timing as usual my friend. Shooing the last customer left in the trinket shop from the register, she headed out to the floor to greet one of her biggest patrons. Taking in the appearance of her dear friend, she was not shocked to have not seen the lovely courtesan out and about in the underground slums. The shiner that was graced upon her forehead was massive indeed. Feeling her friends curious eyes evaluating her state, the woman placed her bangled hands on her hips and jumped into conversation.
"Well, I see that my presence still manages to render even the most competent people speechless, however I wish that you would have the decency to not smile you uncaring wench."
Laughing slightly, the clerk could not contain, "I only think of what William Tanarus will think, his lovely painted lady all bruised, and the perpetrator still at large. He might decide that you would be safer inside the Tanarus compound and under his protection."
"As if I would let that beefy man cake have complete control over me, what are you thinking Rebecca darling," her friend huffed.
Still laughing Rebecca led her friend over to the back side of the store, away from the front windows. Turning to a bookcase filled with classics from long ago, they both appeared to study titles on the shelves. Finding the well-used copy of the Three Musketeers, she tilted the book onto its spine slightly. Latches could then be heard as the case itself detached from the wall, and both women descended through the doorway. One dressed like the shadows she reveled in, with her tunic and leggings, the other like a busy bazaar, in an array of colorful swatches.
The woman in black signaled to the young Theodosian boy, no older than 14, sitting on the stool inside the narrow hallway, and he got up from the stool he had previously been sitting on.
"Afternoon Ms. Rebecca, and Konichiwa Brielle-sama!" the youngster greeted them as they passed the landing.
"Konichiwa Hiro," Brielle replied, while Rebecca nodded in acknowledgement. Seeing what was needed from him he rushed up the steps to manage the store for Rebecca.
"I shall see that no customer leaves unsatisfied Ms. Rebecca! And I shall see to their every needs, annnnnnnd make sure profit is acquired!" Hiro rapidly spewed on his trek up the flight of stairs, managing to trip not once or twice, but at least three times.
"Mo, Bex, you sure that boy can handle your customers?" Brielle asked.
Rebecca turned and gave the doll a knowing smile.
"Oh please, with his dimples and that over-eager-here-to-please-you personality he'll have the ladies eating out of his palm." answered Rebecca. Continuing to walk side by side down another narrow stairway past the landing they were previously on, they made it down to yet another door. Rebecca laughed to herself, "That boy makes me more money in an afternoon than I do in two days."
Pondering her friends words, Brielle gave a small hmm.
"Must be a gift."
"Must be," Rebecca agreed while placing her calloused hands in a particular order on metal knobs that jutted out from the worn wood, the door lit up and allowed them through to the true gem hidden under the trinket shop.
Breathing in the fine scent of new and old wears, both women had satisfied smiles on their faces.
"Now that we're somewhere more secluded I'm sure you want all the juicy details," Brielle inquired to her friend while gesturing to her bump. Rebecca just waited, rather patiently for Brielle to continue her tirade. "You're like a curious cat, you know that. Always slinking into information and storing it in that brain of yours."
"They don't call me the Procurer of the underground for nothing Brielle," Rebecca's feline face curling into a smirk. "I enjoy knowing bits and pieces from patrons, and understanding what is happening around this city is useful and good for business."
"It's also a good way for you to get into trouble," Brielle replied, her tone dropping into a concerned melody.
Rebecca turned her face away from Brielle's, showing off her half shaved head and neck tattoo that graced her left side. The courtesan had always had a soft spot for the secretive fence, except the only information that she traded was gossip, or news buzzing through the District families at the time. It was never personal, so while Brielle felt close to the Procurer of the underground, she could not help the mysterious woman through problems she had no idea about.
While meandering further into the underground store Rebecca ran under the nose of the watchful City Guard, both women adopted far away glances, reminiscing on times that were troubling indeed. Brielle's shoulders shifted uneasily, like spiders were crawling under her shawl, and Rebecca touched the diagonal scar marring her left eyebrow. The mood turned darker than the dimly lit basement. Never knowing where to begin with the fence and these sorts of moods Brielle returned to what she did best. Shopping. Picking up a beautiful jade necklace that would be a stunning accompaniment to the deep urchin dress she would be wearing to the Tanarus Ball, she sighed and said, "But if being in the know allows you access to such pieces I am not going to nag too much. Especially since I get the good patron discount."
Snorting, Rebecca looked into her friends blue eyes and still saw the concern that she had just tried to cover up. Knowing Brielle did not let many people past the painted side of her, and into the side of actually caring, she felt touched. I worry for you too my doll friend, so please do not hate me for what I am going to ask of you.
Going with her friends lighter topic, the fence merely shrugged and replied, "Even with two Tanarus Ball's pay, you would not be able to cover a quarter of what that piece costs, so unless you finally devote yourself to one of these rich bastards you have hanging around, put it down, hands off, and keep dreaming."
Brielle on the outside merely shrugged and put the necklace back, but inside she was dying to claim it as her own.
"I agree that the court of Brigton is not full of upstanding men right now, and I have decided to wait until real players enter the fray to settle down."
"Uhm hmm. You just like your freedom."
"And you do not? Ms I-must-remain-woefully-single-forever-and-wear-drab-black-clothing-and-act-brutish-to-anything-with-potential-that-my-lovely-friend-Brielle-sends-my-way!?" Brielle teased right back.
"Yare yare, I keep you well clothed and accessorized, what more do you want from me on'na?" Rebecca finished.
Giving up on her stubborn friend, Brielle walked lazily around to the aisle of jewels across from Rebecca, "Just to be happy Bex, and preferably with someone by your side to share it with," she justified.
Sighing and thinking back to all Brielle's elaborate attempts at getting her to connect to someone outside of herself and her business, Rebecca nearly keeled over about some of the disastrous outcomes of those dates. More like torture sessions. She was managing on her own, and could not remember what it was like to not be.
Shaking herself out of that train of thought before it went and resurfaced memories better off forgotten, Rebecca looked back at Brielle and knew it was now or never. She needed information that only Brielle could give, and she placed enough trust in her longtime friend to supply her with it.
"Brielle."
The chattering of her friend stopped and she turned to look at her.
"Today I need something from you."
()()()
Bex needed something from me? Well this is new... Usually she just listens to me list the latest gossip from the court, in exchange for merchandise. What could my Rebecca darling desire from me?
Never a staller, her dark chocolate, dead serious eyes looked into my crystallized ones and said,
"I need the blueprints to the Tudor household."
Reeling slightly, I set the topaz set of earrings I was holding down.
"The Tudor household..." My eyes bulged a bit. That was a household that had strong Gyangu ties, and not a pretty history. Just what in the seven hells was my underground darling thinking going after Brigton's infamous gang family?
Elaborating her needs, Rebecca spoke again.
"Yes. I need to know what I am going to be dealing with in terms of their home. Is it a simple layout, with minimal defense, or an elaborate six stories with guards posted at every corner. For either of which I need to plan accordingly," she said, while her right hand ran through her cropped wavy hair.
My hands folded over my chest, thinking back to the limited evenings that I had to spend with a few of the lesser shady Tudor men, and knew exactly why Rebecca needed to plan out her move on the Tudor's. It was not going to be an easy infiltration.
"Well let me enlighten you right now, you would be walking into a house full of weapons, trained men with big muscles, and a power hungry family that would just looooove to get their hands on the famous...infamous...Procurer of the underground." I gave her a concerned look. I knew fully that Bex could take care of herself in the underground, but the Tudors played by a different set of rules on the surface above, and whatever she was up to, it was going to be on their territory. My frustration bubbled over and I could not help but reprimand her. "Nanda yo omae-wa? You are not some sort of spy baka-ne!"
There was a subtle rustle of fabric and one of the lamps along the walls of the basement store fluttered. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up and Rebecca gave me a sympathetic glance.
"That is why she has me Nuri kabe, although my work is a little more involved than a spy."
()()()
Rebecca rolled her eyes, and I whipped around to see the same awful black cloak and hood that I had seen not two nights ago. My so-called plaster face contorted into an icy glare.
"You... you... you wretched creature!"
The assassin pulled back her long hood and her oval face exposed a smile that brightened the dimples on her cheeks. Thinking she had me pegged as an angry lover she dotted.
"Remington was not all that special..."
I rolled my pretty little lashes.
"Oh please, you think I care about the life of one spoiled rich boy, then you do not understand how the game works. There are plenty more like him around this city. No you toraboro thing, I am upset about this!" I spit harshly as I pointed up to my damaged temple.
Her rosy lips merely curled with suppressed mirth. The audacity of this woman! She couldn't be taller than five feet, yet she acted like she was the mightiest being to walk through the city!
"At least it was only a bump, Putaro. I can do much worse."
The playful steel in her hazel eyes promised that she could, but before I could get a dig at her own bloody profession, Rebecca cut in.
"Yare, Kat. I told you to wait until I filled Brielle in completely." The fence walked around to the aisle that the now named Kat and I shared. She stood at point between us, in a triangle like formation.
The short assassin raised an eyebrow at my friend and slipped off her gloves, one finger at a time.
"But you know how I love to make an entrance..."
At that I could not help but let out a huff of hot air. Her entrances probably lead to bloody exits.
"And the last time you made an entrance, you got me shot." Bex said dryly. "Besides your're an assassin Kat. You really shouldn't be making any entrances." She mentioned off handedly.
The two shared a look, and I felt uneasy.
Whatever these two had cooking, I wanted no part in stirring the pot. Stoic Sheriff was already keeping a hawk-like eye on me, I did not need to get mixed in with the Hand of Brigton's affairs, even if Rebecca asked for my help.
Bex must of sensed my determination to stay out of the shadows, because she immediately turned to me.
"Before you make a final decision, will you at least hear me out? I always remember you being a reasonable person Brielle."
"And I remember you being a honest fence Rebecca."
I saw Bex' eyes flash with emotion, while the assassin took out a sebon and twirled it between her nimble fingers and explained something to me.
"Those do not exist, painted lady. Especially not her. Not in this game that we play," she whispered in an unexpectedly light, airy, voice.
Game? What game was she talking about? Certainly not the one I play - Bex just needed the blueprints to steal some sort of jewel or valuable that the Tudors possessed. One job and done. Underneath my plait of hair my brain started churning.
But then why would she need Kat's services...she could hire any of the master thief's she currently employed...unless she thought there would be trouble and needed the assassin's services...why would the assassin be serviced by a fence...why would she be involved in this kind of job...unless part of the gig involved someone being dead...and rich people being dead is quite popular at the moment.. Uricha said that...
Oh Kami.
This was not an isolated incident.
I gasped and my hands tented my face as the realization had hit. Captain Uricha has said that many of the rich clientele of Brigton had been touched by the Hand's violence, and that we had similar clients. I turned to Rebecca my eyes full of accusation.
"You two are behind the recent murders! Clark, Tang, Remington...they were all you!"
Rebecca slowly nodded, the assassin studied her nails, and my stomach burned with fury. Thinking back to all the times I had talked about my nightly affairs, some between those who were now gone, an understanding settled over me like a heavy shroud.
Rebecca had been using my standard gossip to learn about certain targets habits, and had sent the Hand to take care of them.
"Like Kat said, there are no honest fences. Least of all me."
My eyes narrowed while focusing my anger and sense of betrayal on my friend. I hated being used. Bex took a slow breath before speaking again.
"Brielle, I'm not going to explain, but it had to happen. I am sorry that I had to use you like that, but I you were the only one who could help me. I hope you will understand this, and that all their deaths were justifiable."
I placed my hands on my hips and readied a speech to wring my so-called friend out, when her words hit me. This was Bex. Despite her being the Queen of the Black Market, she was the fairest friend I had. Fair did not mean she was nice, but it did not make her mean. She was middle ground, only deciding once the other player had made their move, on how to play. In all the transactions I had seen her complete, she always gave and asked for what the other person deserved and never double-crossed anyone unless provoked. It was one side or the other.
Seeing that she had me turning around, Rebecca reached out and grasped my wrists gently and looked into my eyes.
"I don't deserve it but I am asking you to trust me shin'yu. I need your help."
I saw that she was being entirely honest in her own way, that she was not going to hide what she and Kat were cooking up from me anymore, but she also was not going to involve me any more than she had too. Kuso fence.
Seemingly exasperated with the entire ordeal, I waved a hand in the air.
"Fine. But you owe me big Procurer of the underground. So let's start off with some maharaja chi oolong tea, ne? This will take awhile, and if I am going off my past tours of the place, there will be lots to draw out. The Tudor mansion is built more like a military compound than a home, so it is full of little details you are going to need if you plan on making it out of this alive."
Both women seemed to let out a sigh of relief, and Kat's sebon disappeared back up her sleeve, in a manner saying that she was not trying to hide her actions. I stared at her hard and long, not quite knowing what her ulterior motive was for this job. Money? Fun? Or was it something else?
"Honey, I never expect to get along with you either, but let us try to not be at each other's throats the entire afternoon."
Kat merely smirked and stretched, making her way to the familiar table in the back.
XXXXX
Two hours later, a grandfather clock in the basement chimed and Brielle got up from the table that had served as the gathering place for the three ladies. She packed up the various pens and pencils that she had used to outline the Tudor household while Rebecca got up and marched back over to the store side of the basement and Kat pushed off the wall she had been leaning against.
Feeling all settled, Brielle followed Rebecca, and went over to the store, waiting to be led back to the bauble shop. Turning back towards Kat, she realized the assassin was gone.
"How is she..."
"Don't worry 'bout her. She takes care of herself," Rebecca answered.
"Kowaii."
"Perhaps." Rebecca smiled.
Both ladies returned to the staircase and as they were striding up, Brielle stopped suddenly.
Rebecca halted a few steps above her friend not turning to face Brielle, waiting.
"You know that I care about you right?" Brielle asked softly.
Bex couldn't answer her friend. Part of her dearly wante to but she knew she couldn't bbecause she wsn't sure of the answer. People like her don't get cared for by outsiders. Bex refrained from saying anything due to having her emotions locked far away from the upcoming plans that she and Kat needed to make. But she gave a slight nod in agreement. Of course, and I care about you too.
"Then I hope you can understand that while I care about you, I do not care for the path you are heading down shin'yu. This is the only and last time I will help you surrounding such deeds." I do not wish to play in this game of yours, death and destruction do not suit me, not anymore.
Bex let a pause fill the air, as she thought about her words. She had used dozens of other people without caring what happend to them or what became of them so why was Brielle so different? Taking a deep breath and turning back slightly she answered Brielle as honestly as she could.
"I understand. But know I will always thank you for ignoring your beliefs and helping me with mine."
With that the silken courtesan and shady procurer reentered the surface, ready to play once again.
Glossary-
Putaro - Tramp Horo-sha - tramp
toraboro- troublesome yakkiana - troublesome
omoshiroi-interesting
Nanda - What the hell? Ittai nani? - What the hell?
Ona'na- woman on'na - woman
Nanda yo omae-wa? - Who the hell do you think you are? Dare ga jigoku anata wa anata ga iru to omoimasu ka? - Who the hell do you think you are?
Baka ne - You fool anata ga damasu - you fool
Nuri kabe - Plaster face sekko-gao - plaster face
Kami- God Kami - God
shin'yu- best friend shin'yu - best friend
Kuso- damn kuso - damn
Kowai- scary kowai - scary