Genre: Dark Comedy, Friendship
Rating: T for mentions of adult themes
Summary: A lady and a lord of the night meet up and talk. (Urzai AU)
The night was warm, the streets were busy, the bar was crowded. All of these were good things for Ozai.
He lounged in one of the seats, specifically chosen to look secluded but be in full view, and watched the patrons for interest or friendly faces. At least he wasn't onstage tonight with his sisters–there was something about the way they moved, something about the way they were forced to move, that sickened him. (How dare those patrons want their bodies? How dare they treat his sisters, his mothers and aunts, his family, like nothing more than objects!) It was a more conventional crowd today. The general populace did not like the idea that there were non-female, non-male-serving prostitutes in their country. Like their wives, their daughters, weren't just paintings to be admired.
The irony of it was delicious and disgusting.
Another figure walked into the bar–female, though not curvy like so many women Ozai has known. Normally he would take no notice of yet another person coming in the door he's watching, but this one has a familiar face attached to it, not to mention knives and poisons and all manner of wonderful little lethal party tricks. Ever since he'd spotted her breaking into some nobleman's mansion in the Caldera after his wife had hired him for a good time, they'd been immediate friends.
Ursa spots him back and raises an eyebrow–she's no stranger to the depravity of the streets, thanks to Ozai, but it's not often he's put on display. Usually he's in the back, waiting for someone to come in with a request. She walks over, casually sliding into the seat opposite him, and flumps backwards into the cushions. "Agni. At least I have someone I can drop the act with now."
He chuckles. "High society getting to ya?"
"How in smokes am I going to 'find a husband' or some ash like that? Why? I've got Ikem, why look for anyone else? How hard is it to understand that I'm not gonna marry for status? I can get that on my own!"
"M-hm." Ozai knew when to let her rant.
"Not to mention some of my suitors. Barely better than these ashbrains." Here she gestured to the bargoers, disgust in the motion. "I just want to take some of them and flay them alive as an example to the others."
"Mm."
"Oh, that'd be fun. Agni, the look on their faces when they realize I'm more than just a pretty face and a body to smash." The look on her face softened. "But you know more about that than I do, don't you?"
He gave her a little sardonic grin. "Ah, now you remember who you're talking to."
"Pfft." She gave his arm a light punch, knocking him a little to the side. "Why do you think I'm ranting to you of all people?"
"What, is your little paragon of naivety somehow worse than a literal prostitute?"
"Oh hush. You haven't even met Ikem, even if you're right."
"I'm always right. Even when I'm wrong. First rule of dealing with clients."
"Riiiight. Well, I don't know exactly how being a prostitute differs from being an assassin-for-hire, but it's usually the client who's always right."
"Maybe, but you don't need total confidence in the act. Anyone who's watching you is about to die."
"Excuse me? Collateral damage is for beginners, I will have - client."
They both immediately moved to opposite ends of the corner table, dropping their jibes and trying to look like they had nothing to do with each other. Those who were in the businesses of pleasure and death generally didn't, and appearance was everything in their lines of work. The person headed towards them was an older woman, hard-faced and determined. From her expression, it seemed that she was here for Ursa; Ozai's clients tended to be a little bit more flirtatious. Or shy, depending on experience and confidence.
Still, though, despite her stern expression, it was Ozai she turned to first. "You wouldn't happen to be open for business, would you?"
"I am, Lady," Ozai said, raising an eyebrow, "though I doubt it's the business you expect. My...companion, here, is most likely who you are looking for, if it's pain you want."
She turned to Ursa, who nodded. "Who do you need dead, ma'am?"
The old lady blinked. She seemed unused to such forward language from someone of an occupation perhaps best known for its discretion. "My -" A furtive look around, and she backtracked quickly. "Let us retire to somewhere more private to speak."
Ursa and Ozai shared a look, and with it, a silent conversation. You really think I should do this? - She's a client, isn't she? - Yea, but she's so formal. Gah. - You're the one who's getting paid. - Fair enough. She stood up, bowed slightly, and followed the imperious figure into a back room. Ozai watched her go. He enjoyed their conversations, really. She'd grown more and more beautiful as he'd known her, from just another face in the crowd to something familiar and warm, someone he could spar with both verbally and physically. It was easy to relax around her, let off on his protective acidity.
He just wished he was able to find the courage to tell her it had gone beyond friendship.
As always, reviews and constructive criticism would be very much appreciated!