Apparition (Vento Aureo x Reader)

My Favorite Hobby Is Pretending I Have My Shit Together

"Jeez, awfully weak, arentcha? Don't you people usually scream?" (Y/N) felt a flick on the side of her head, but the constant sway of the taxi, twists and turns that she could no longer remember, all lost within the dizzy realm of her mind. "Or at least, pass out at this point... we aren't getting there until you faint."

"Dude this is just nauseating... hurry up and whack me over the head. At this point, I'm actually begging you." She groaned, cheeks flushed from the warm air pocket she was trapped under. Hands still bound, she positioned her body towards the voices, bracing herself at a particularly harsh turn. "I don't even know where we are, but if you could... I think I need to vomit..."

"You what! Wait shit don't vomit in here! Ugh! Fuck! Pull over!" The man cringed, in all honesty, they were already at The Factory, he only needed her to not know her location. Her friends, however, only saw her randomly move back and forth around one area in a car. Enough to grant suspicion, but nothing to elicit anything more than a simple 'What the fuck is she doing.'

"Damn I have the worst car sickness right now... oh god..." She groaned, her dizzy spell overtaking her. The car lurched towards a stop, and her head slammed right into the front passenger seat. This is why you always buckle up. Even if you are bound in your spot. The little boy screamed, unsure if he just saw the woman die. Unfortunately, the smack to the face also turned on the microphone, and the first thing they heard, mere hours after her departure, was a groan of pain and the scream of a baby wimp.

"Shut up! Ugh!" With a short temperament, the man kicked the door open, dragging out the bound and woozy woman into the back alleys. This was really a customer? No, that couldn't be, she was probably a representative! She had to be, but who the hell would send out such a useless gremlin? She didn't even look that professional! Well, neither did he when he was dragging some woman on the verge of vomiting behind him and this kid they got to sell. "You better not say weird shit to the boss! And don't vomit on him either!"

"Who's fault is this, huh?!" (Y/N) screeched, worming around in her binds. "What kind of gangster won't just knock out a person?!"

"I am a good person! I don't hit women!"

"You're a gangster, goddammit! This is worse! I'm gonna throw up all over your shoes, you misogynistic bastard!"

"Fuck you, Lady!"

"Fuck you, Asshole! There's children here! Don't fucking cuss!"

"You're cussing too! Hypocrite bitch!" Already a great start. Professionalism was obviously an important aspect of this group, of course. "We're here, get out of the binds yourself if you're gonna be rude!"

"You're the one being rude! Who's the one that threw a garbage bag over my head and rolled me in rope like some cartoon?!" She hissed, squirming even more in her spot. "Is this how you treat a customer, you sad degenerate?! Go and get laid or something, you pathetic middle aged sack of shit!"

"I'm literally twenty seven!" He hissed, only to be interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Silent, (Y/N) focused her attention on the new addition. Their soul... felt cold, malicious, uncaring, it was a type of feeling you got while watching a child joyously pluck the wings from a butterfly. She couldn't call it ignorance or curiosity, but rather, it was a sick amusement. "Boss..."

"What seems to be the problem, Antonio? This woman the seller or the sold?" Their voice was odd, much too light and carefree to belong to such an unnerving soul, but she pretended not to notice. "Did you drag her here? That is not how we conduct our business, usually."

With a dull thunk, she could feel the rope loosening around her before dropping to the ground. Unbound, (Y/N) quickly tore off the stuffy garbage bag, tossing it on the ground and stomping on it for good measure. The new face raised an eyebrow at this masked woman, and she raised an eyebrow back at this man. He looked nothing like she would have thought. He was... lankier, with short brown hair and a rather professional smile, two tattooed stars sat right at the corner of his eyes, and the cane he sported... 'is this guy for real?' "Thank you, sir. I suppose you are who I will actually be conducting business with?"

Glancing around her, the boy and... Antonio, had already disappeared. Odd, how did she not notice before? A voice of flowers snapped her out of her confused trance, and her eyes met his own purpleishly tinted ones. Thinned into slits, he gripped the head of his cane, thumb rubbing over the golden bronze decals. "Of course, please forgive him, I can assure you that my workers are not like that."

"It's fine. It was a mistake." She didn't like this man. He was just off. Everything about him was off. "Shall we get started then? I don't want to waste any more time."

"As you wish, May I ask, however, what your name could be?" He extended a hand to shake hers, a placid smile stretched across his face. It's not as if he was expecting a real one, or one at all. No one was stupid enough to hand them out like candy back here, but a handshake was common courtesy.

"Call me... whatever you want. I don't really care. I'm not buying for me, anyway." She shrugged, glancing left and right. She either didn't notice or didn't care about his handshake, taking the time to examine her surroundings. This wasn't the cleanest of alleys, not that she's ever been in a clean alley.

"Then can I ask who this esteemed buyer must be?" He grinned, lips stretching a little too much for comfort. This man controlled the distribution of human trafficking, and she has wandered into his lions den. This is what she was searching for, but why did she have to find it so soon?! "Our prices won't be that cheap, especially for quality goods, those are rather hard to procure."

"I promise you, my client is more than capable of buying from your stock. I cannot stay their name out in the open, but perhaps... if you have a room where all conversations will stay for eternity, I will say. But then again, how do I know I am getting only the best of the best?" She raised an eyebrow towards him, not daring to let an ounce of tension escape her. She had to be on guard around this person as much as possible. "Define your quality."

"Why, it is hard to put a label on our selection, but they are regular people, take a handful out of a crowd, break their spirits until they do only what is put into those silly little minds, that, is the best of the best. Obedience is what is trained at this Factory."

"And yet your staff run free? I don't see a hint of your so called obedience in that." She clicked her tongue. "I don't mean to be picky, but my client demands better than the cream of the crop. I have my doubts, and I'm sure you understand why?"

"I understand your impression of my workers is not the greatest, but I assure you, our quality is only the best of the best. I apologize, again, but the method you used to reach us was actually quite odd." He narrowed his eyes, but when she blinked, it was replaced by the same smile as before.

"Shouldn't you be better prepared then? Finding you was rather elementary, if I can be honest." She huffed, her cockyness cranked to eleven. Their surroundings shifted, old, musty alleyways traded for the insides of a grey building with buzzing fluorescent lights and a stench that rivaled death. No one seemed too bothered by this underlying smell, so she too ignored it.

He opened the door, allowing her entry first before sitting down at the desk. "Now then. Tell me who you work for."

"I still haven't tested your validit-"

"Come on, no more games, missus. Spit it out. I haven't all day."

(Y/N) clicked her tongue, her stomach lurching yet again as another wave of nausea hit her. Please, god, let them fall for this. It wasn't completely a lie, so she only had to spin in what little truth already was in it, into the entirety. "I work for the SpeedWagon Foundation."

"...You're kidding, right?"

Shit.

-+-
Hnnnng I want to eat something.