Fleur-de-lis

Die Cry Hate: Side B

Vanitas's p.o.v.

I twirl around the dancing pole, privately entertaining a gentleman who had paid to see something a little more interesting. Like usual though, I'm careful to not make myself stand out too much. I dance only a good as everyone else. I'd broken that rule once and it landed me in some annoying problems. Suddenly my sixth sense for danger goes off and I stop dancing. My client gets a confused look on his face but I ignore him for the moment. Without warning, a group of three men intrude on this private session, entering the room with purpose.

I immediately recognize one of them as Pedro's employer, Mr. Sable. The other two seemed to be random very intimidating black gentlemen serving as his personal protection. One of them looks at the man seated for my performance and gestures for him to get lost for his own good. He obliges nervously and slips out, deciding that this...whatever it was...was none of his buisness.

"Can I help you three?" I ask, trying to sound less annoyed than I was. Having these kinds of interaction in just a jock strap was frustrating after all.

Mr. Sable takes a seat, having one of his body guards sit with him and the other watching the door.

"You're Vanitas, correct?" Sable asks.

"I am." I answer.

"You tore one of my best boys to pieces the other day." He comments.

I sigh heavily. "And you're looking for revenge?"

Mr. Sable laughs. "Hardly. Just before you ruined Vince's reputation, Pedro advised that I bet on you rather than my own man. It was such a ridiculous request that I actually did it out of curiosity. I have to say that I was barely expecting you to survive that fight, let alone win."

"I'm sorry for being so rude but could we perhaps skip to the important bits?" I ask. "I have money to make."

"That you do...which is why I'm offering you a job." Sable replies.

I raise a brow. "A job?"

"That's right. I wan't you to be my new brawler."

I give a vague chuckle at the idea of that. "And if I refuse?"

Mr. Sable gestures to his two associates. "Well then I'd have to find a different way to convince you."

Both men scowl at me menacingly, ready to do some damage on command.

I glance back to the older business man. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Pardon?" He questions.

"You didn't bring those men to hurt me." I say. "You brought them here because you're afraid of me." The three of them tense up as my suddenly intense gaze briefly shows them a glimpse of the inferno underneath.

Mr. Sable sighs. "No need for things to get out of hand. Let's all relax."

I shake my head in disbelief. He was the one making threats.

"Look, kid." Mr. Sable continues. "I'm not a mob boss...I'm a buisiness man, my name's George, and I see a grand opportunity with you."

"What sort of opportunity?" I question.

"I like to have my friends in low places." He continues. "Respect goes a long way in the underworld but a rich white guy isn't someone that acquires the respect of the less fortunate easily. Not unless I prove to have some strength in my corner."

"And I'm your golden ticket..." I finish for him.

"Exactly." Sable continues. "If you represent me in the ring, your unusual talent will be the symbol of my worth."

"What's in it for me?" I question.

"What're your demands?" Mr. Sable asks.

"Hmmm..." I spin around the pole doing a witch like dance as I pondered briefly. "Increase Pedro's pay and line my pockets as well." I say.

"That's surprisingly reasonable." He responds.

I hang upside down on the pole like a mischievous imp. Honestly, I was intrigued enough to do it for free but you learn never to do anything for free here in Independence.

"Then it looks like we have ourselves a deal...George Sable." I grin with all intentions of having as much fun as I wanted.