[SpringsSong]

The elegant female sat down in a darkened room, her eyes hard as she looked at the person before her.  She was leaning back in her chair, her hands in front of her face as she tapped her index fingers together.  She wore a black hat with a large rim over her vibrant red hair, and she also wore green eye shadow.

“And you are certain that there can be no other perpetrators?” she asked the person that was sitting before her, her eyes stern.  According to this person’s report, someone had been seen selling their merchandise on her territory, a crime punishable by both kidnapping and death according to the rules of the mafia.  Her gaze bored into the female that was sitting before her, and when all she did was nod, she shook her head.

“Fine.  You know what you need to do, then, Arasinya,” she said, her gaze stern.  “Bring him here to me—and any others that might be with him.  We can’t take any chances.  I worked hard for this territory...”

She stood up here and walked into the room behind that one, tapping her fingers together restlessly as she looked out of the window out at the Slums.  This territory had cost her dearly, and the only reason they went mostly unnoticed was because of the work that Arasinya did at the tavern that was right above them.  If Arasinya got hurt by one of the men that fought her, all she had to do was report to her, and she would make sure that the chap never fought again.  Whether or not it was just a temporary thing or permanent was, of course, up to the people that did the job.

And now there were people trying to sell things on her turf?

It is true that we try our best to go unnoticed here to avoid competition, she thought to herself as she opened the drawer to her desk and pulled out one of her prized possessions, a knife with a pearl-encrusted blade.  I don’t know. I might have to step in and settle this one.  No one messes with Don Ildia and gets away with it.  No one.

As she looked out of the window, she shook her head and sat down at the desk, turning on the light as she pulled out a notebook.  She knew that Arasinya had mentioned the male’s name, Daryt.  She growled slightly as she wrote the name down in her notebook, and then, she drew a line threw it.  She wasn’t sure how they would deal with him, but if he was working for another mafia, there was only one option for his punishment, and that, quite simply...

...was making him disappear.

“I’ll really hate it if this Daryt ends up being handsome,” she said to herself, shaking her head as she laughed slightly.  “I will also really hate it if he ends up being a part of another mafia.  The way Arasinya described him made him seem really, really interesting.”

She shook her head here, sighing slightly as she looked back out of the window.

“Maybe this time we’re in over our heads, Dra’skelu... we have no idea how long this Daryt’s been around, but we still have been at this territory for several years now.  It’s time that they knew about us.”

[1.1]

[SpringsSong]

“Yes, I’m certain that there can be no other perpetrator, Don Ildia.  I know for a fact that he is the one that is doing this, and there is no one else that can be doing this.  I’ve seen him in the tavern before, and I thought for sure he’d challenge me, but he said he wasn’t the fighting type.” Arasinya said, and then, when Don Ildia gave her clearance to go do what she needed to do, she stood up and dipped her head slightly, taking out her own hat and placing a hand within her overcoat, which held a knife in it.

“I will gladly bring him here, Don Ildia.  I’ll bring him—and any of his other little buddies that might be with him.”

She smiled slightly as she walked out to the tavern’s main floor, her eyes slightly secretive as she approached the manager of the tavern, who told her she was up for a few fights that night.  She cursed under her breath and looked down at the blade within her coat, and then, back at the manager as she smirked slightly.  She knew that this was a stretch, but she could try it.

“I’d love to fight tonight, but unfortunately... some things just came up with my other job, you know, the one that I work during the day.  I’m gonna have to pass on the fighting—I’m sure that there are others that can fight in my place tonight.  Plus, you have me the impression that all the regulars were getting to be tired of old Arasinya and her ability to beat any opponent thrown at her.” Here, she laughed as she turned away from him as he said that he understood why she had to pass on that night.

You had better, she thought to herself.  I have zero fear in ordering a hit on you, and Don Ildia has zero issues with taking out people, even if their business is where ours hides...

Here, she took to the alleyways behind the tavern and pulled her hat on, looking around suspiciously.  This had been the place where she’d caught him before, and she was certain that she could catch him again.  She would have to be sneaky and as inconspicuous as possible, which, for her, was not hard at all.  All she really had to do was look around from side to side first, and then, once she had verified that no one else was around that might be of consequence, she would walk up to him.  However...

...she never knew if there was going to be another one there.  If someone else was there this time, she would need to know the extent of their affiliation, and if they had any special powers.  Even as she walked over to where the station would be set up, she could tell that there was someone else with him before she even came into full view of the little market-square that was there.  She looked around, and then, with a small smirk on her face, she laid a small sum of keystones on the blanket, but then, she reached over and grabbed Daryt’s wrist, her eyes firm and steely.

“You and your buddy here are comin’ with me.  You’re selling on Don Ildia’s turf... which, if you’re involved with another mafia, you surely know that this is a crime punishable by death, and Don Ildia is not afraid to have blood spilt.  We worked our Lucain rears off for this territory, and we’re not about to lose it,” she said, her voice stern as she said this.  “And even if you aren’t associated with another mafia, there are still consequences.  Now get up, step away from the merchandise, and come with me.”

She kept her face mostly covered as she said all of this; the last thing she needed was for this guy to see her face, decide she was pretty, and charm her into an aphrodisiac of any sort while she was on the job.  She was not about to betray her Don whatsoever.

[1.1]

[SpringsSong]

Daryt blinked as the female regarded him as harshly as she did.  He then adjusted his overcoat and leaned over to her, the blue gem on his collar gleaming as a few beams of light reflected off of it.  He readjusted his gloves slightly as he examined her carefully, his yellow eyes piercing.

“Ma’am, you can’t be much older than... what, twenty-one?  How are you already working for a mafia, and what on earth is so wrong with your life that would compel you to resort to that road?”

He knew that this would just likely provoke her, but that was, ultimately, his goal.  He wanted to get her angry enough to where she would draw the weapon that she doubtless had hiding under that cloak of hers—along with a doubtlessly smoking hot body—then he might be able to work some of his charms on her.  However, he thought about the other things that could happen because of this.  Maybe this Don Ildia would be equally as fiery and spitfire as this associate of hers.  He thought a moment more, and then, he slowly stepped away from the blanket where the potions were carefully laid out.

“Alright.” Daryt said, keeping his hands in plain sight, as if to show Arasinya that he was going to cooperate with her.  “Take me to this Don Ildia.  Since I know she probably wants my associates, my only associate has already gone on to meet with her.  He has... quite the gift of foresight.  Left me a note saying that he would not be surprised if someone would stop in and say we were on their turf and that a price must be paid.  I guess I should be glad that I am not associated with any mafias; you must work in a mafia of femme fatales...” he said, smiling slightly.

Yeah, sure, smooth moves, Daryt.  Provoke the lady to violence, then get offed by her boss for selling on their territory.  Should have known that this territory would be claimed already, but they must be running a dang small mafia.  Usually they have other associates guarding the territory... or maybe they just don’t want to be found...

All of these thoughts ran through his head as he wondered what position his associate was in.  After all, with having “the gift”, this associate was also physically blind.  He wasn’t too happy about having a blind associate, because then he could never see the potions that they were selling, and could never fill the orders himself.  He shook his head as he looked around again, wondering what the heck would happen to his little business if this Don Ildia offed him for selling on her turf.

“This... Don Ildia.  How did she come to know that I was dealing on her turf, and how long has her mafia been on this particular turf?” he asked, his eyes curious as he allowed himself to be lead to the area where he would doubtless meet something similar to an end.  He hoped that this Don Ildia was interested in new members, because he was not interested in losing such a prime location just because it was some mafia’s territory.

This could actually be really bad for me, he thought as he looked around, noticing where they were.  If this tavern is above their lair... well, then, dang.  I’ve been dealing here for a while.  Maybe they were just waiting for a prime opportunity to get a hit on me... I really shouldn’t have set up shop in the Slums...

[1.1]

[SpringsSong]

Útíradien looked around as he came to the address that Daryt had given him.  No, that was just his cover—he had discovered this place in one of his little dream-walking trips, when he had discovered that someone from this particular place would come to Daryt and demand that he come with him, that they knew about his operation.  He said that he would meet Daryt there, but that he would say that he had been sent on ahead.

“I hope that this Don Ildia is not too... harsh on us.  After all, in her mafia’s own defense, she’s kept it quiet,” he said to himself, looking at the door as he opened it up tentatively, looking around.  He couldn’t see much, but from what he could see, he was impressed.

“Erm... is Don Ildia here?  I would like to speak to her for a few moments about the issue of the selling of goods of various natures on your territory...”

He could only hope that this Don Ildia would be forgiving to them.  He himself had no idea of the existence of the territory, or her mafia, but soon, he realized why he was so leery of Daryt setting up there.  He soon spotted a portrait on the wall; he figured that this was common and to be expected in places where mafias were housed: a portrait of the boss.  As he examined it, he couldn’t help but find himself wondering if this Don Ildia was potentially avoiding something by being the boss.

She is quite the gorgeous woman... or else her portrait makes her look gorgeous, he thought to himself as he sat down outside of a door, wringing his hands nervously as he tried not to mess with the little necklace around his neck.  He knew it had to look awkward, wearing a necklace with a star charm at the end of it.  However, to Útíradien, that little charm and necklace was his way of seeing the entire world.  Without it... well, the blank look in his eyes would doubtless clue people into why he depended on it and not his own eyes or someone else.

Útíradien was blind as a bat.

He could remember having people talk to him and ask him what it was like to be blind, yet still be able to see with this necklace.  He knew that some of these people were, doubtless, after his necklace for his powers, which is why he was always in his human form and why the necklace was almost never visible.  His necklace was a powerful thing, he knew; maybe this was why he was so leery to move so freely among people who could tell that he was blind.

That was... pretty much everyone who laid eyes on him.

He had tried, with all sincerity, to try his best not to look blind.  However... after about the fifth attempt, he realized that this was going to get him exactly nowhere when it came to being able to pull it off.  People would be talking to him and he would be staring off into nothingness, thinking he was looking at them and pulling off a convincing act.

That, of course, was how he scared the last woman off—his eyes, first, and his foresight secondly.  She said that it  could not possibly be beneficial for him to know other’s futures as well as his if they could not know about it in any way, shape, or form.  He never understood why it was she felt so strongly about it until he looked into her future.

Poor girl...

[1.1]

[SpringsSong]

Dra'skelu nearly jumped when she heard the voice, but after a few moments, she re-gathered herself and walked to the door, opening it slightly as she heard her name said.  She could tell it wasn’t Arasinya; the voice was clearly masculine, and on top of that, if she were returning this soon, then she would just call her Dra'skelu, not Don Ildia.  She cleared her throat and walked out to the room, her eyes stern as she readjusted the brim of her hat once again.  Aside from the clearly sleep-deprived look in her eyes, she looked exactly like the portrait on the wall—well-defined cheekbones, calm blue eyes offset by green eye shadow, hair in two braids with a large-brimmed hat on her head, and the emerald dress she was wearing now.  She examined the male for a moment or two, and then, she beckoned for him to step into the office room where she had come from.

“You’re not the guy we’re after, and we’re not up for negotiating this.  The fact that this Daryt was a patron  at this very tavern and came into contact with Arasinya on a day were she was on strict duty for me and the mafia and did not connect the dots as he was setting up his little shop means that he knew that this was mafia territory, and selling on someone’s territory is against the code.  And before you tell me he’s not in a mafia, stone-eyes,” she said, her voice stern, “everyone out here is a part of some sort of a clan.  You seem like you’d be a Lucain; you know how territorial the feral ones get.  I’m just as territorial.”

Her eyes were alight with a fire that would most certainly refuse to be put out.  She was a fighter at heart, and she was also most adamant when things of hers were threatened.  Maybe this was just a natural reaction to these sorts of things for her; with all she had gone through as a pup in the Slums, it was honestly not in the least bit surprising.  She got right in his face as she stared into his blank eyes, her own blue eyes piercing deep into the stony green ones of Útíradien.

“But... perhaps you are here to seek a truce for yourself, hm?  As you are doubtless involved with him, and if you have any sort of street smarts, you doubtless know that selling on a mafia’s territory is a very severe crime—punishable with death if you’re part of another mafia directly, or kidnapping if you’re just an arrogant butt who refuses to move.  We’ve dropped a few hints to your Daryt, but he hasn’t taken them in the least.  We were hoping he would, but... he’s just too set on the location.”

Her eyes were firm, as was her voice.  She glared at the male, her eyes seeming to take on an unearthly glow as she got right down next to his face, her eyes serious as she looked out from under the rim of her hat at him.  Was he the kind of man she could trust to negotiate a deal about turf with?  More importantly, would he be one that would honor their code and join with them?  If he was as special as her gut instinct indicated, then he would be a valuable asset.

“You’re blind, aren’t you; yet you managed to find this place.” Dra'skelu said, her eyes gleaming.  “I wonder how it is you did that...”

Her eyes lit up slightly as she backed away from him, noticing the necklace around his neck as she gave a thoughtful murmur.  If that necklace had the powers she suspected it had, then he would be more than just a valuable asset; he would be virtually indispensable to her if he was willing to assist them.  Smiling slightly, she turned to him and wrapped a finger around her hair, a sly look on her face.

“Maybe you work for this Daryt, but you hate him.  You wish you could get free of him, but he gives you protection in the harshest neighborhood that you’ve ever lived in, and you’re afraid that, if you leave, you’ll run into people that will try to strip you of your powers—you can’t fool me, stone-eyes; I know you have a gift... and it’s a gift that most people would kill for.”

She knew that the last part was quite literally meant.  If the wrong people came into knowledge of the powers this man possessed, then that would be rather bad for him.  In this neighborhood, people weren’t afraid to get their hands bloody if it meant getting something they wanted.

[1.2]

[SpringsSong]

“I suggest that you hold your tongue, Daryt, and come with me.  We don’t care much about your associate, if he has this gift that you speak of, then he has a clear conscience and we have no use for him.  We won’t harm him, rest assured, but we will have no need for him whatsoever.  Chances are Don Ildia will just erase his memories of associating with you, and then... she will do with him as she likes.  She might keep him around because of his gift and see what else is going on without getting her hands bloodied, or she might set him up in some little hovel in Craiss.”

It was clear that Arasinya was not amused with this character at all, whatsoever.  He was dressed too fancy for the Slums to begin with; he looked more like he belonged in a magic school in... well, a place such as Aldrect or Lamenolai.  Sure, his hair was a bit flamboyant to be involved with a magic school—the first thing that he would be told to do, doubtless, would be to fix his hair up proper so that he looked like a teacher.  As she dragged him along with her, she glared back at him, her eyes steely as they changed color from green to an icy silver.

“I saw you many times at the tavern.  I even saw you once when I was dressed like this, and anyone who lives in this neighborhood knows that when I wear the cloak, I’m on duty for Don Ildia.  Since it seems you’ve taken up residence, you should have known by now that I am a part of the mafia.  And why am I in it?  Well, why do you sell these potions in this region of Evelon?  Simple.  It pays well.  What other reason does one need?  It pays well, and it gives me something to do when my presence is not required in the tavern; more specifically; the fighting cage.  You should remember me from there.  I talked to you after one of my fights.”

Indeed, Arasinya was replaying the very same scene in her head right now; she stepped out of the cage and stared directly at him, her eyes piercing as she waited for the challenge that would doubtless follow.  However, he merely chuckled here and shook his head, sighing as he explained that he was not the fighting type, and that she should either go back to her cage and wait for another challenger or retire for a relaxing yoga session.  She’d spat directly in his eyes for that little comment, which was not exactly surprising for anyone there.  Arasinya had an attitude, they knew, and if you said anything degrading to her in any way, whether it was because of her gender or because of her fighting skills; well, then... they were never seen at the tavern again—at all.

“I’m not afraid to have a hit ordered on you for real, Daryt.  I let you slide because I had a feeling that you were just a nobleman that had lost your way and would soon be gone.  I had no idea that you’re about as conniving as the rest of the scum that live here.  So unless you cooperate with the Don, your days selling here are numbered.  Don’t try to intimidate me with a made-up lineage or pedigree, and don’t try to intimidate me with anything relating to any powers you might have.  You will soon learn the price for selling on Don Ildia’s turf, and you’re not going to like it.”

Arasinya wished she could say that, if he did not comply, then his friend that had gone on ahead to meet with Dra'skelu would be put to death, but there was no telling what Don Ildia would do.  Chances were that she would show pity on this associate of his, because if he was as special as Daryt was portraying, then Dra'skelu would overlook the fact that he was working with someone who was selling on their turf, which was normally punished severely, but then again, their mafia wasn’t exactly normal.  Heck, they had a female boss, which was unheard of in the world of mafias!—well, at least the ones that Arasinya always heard about.

“Don!  Brought back the perpetrator!”

Arasinya said this in a firm voice, but her voice soon swayed as she saw her standing before Útíradien, her eyes bright and a sly smirk on her face.  She had already begun questioning the associate—she had no doubts that that was Útíradien’s affiliation with this man whom she held by the wrist—and was working her charms on him.

[1.2]