Gokudera (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unrelenting_rhapsody) wrote2016-01-14 02:27 pm
unrelenting_rhapsody) wrote2016-01-14 02:27 pm
Entry tags:
Some days...
Who: Dera, Bianchi, open?
When: A year or so in to their new life.
What: Two sisters have a bad day.
The day dawned cold and drizzly; perfect for a boat day honestly. Nothing hammered home the 'things are different here' than the blasted weather being opposite. Coming up on 'summer' back home and the winter rains were coming on properly here. A prison boat was inbound but she couldn't see any hint of it yet at the docks. That meant she could take a moment to enjoy the rain...
...if nothing else the rains here were cleaner, even if the seasons were back to front.
"Close the damn window," her sister snarled from their large bed. "It's cold..."
"Barely," she snorted, but she closed the thick pane anyway, amused. "What's got you in a mood already?" They were doing pretty good, honestly, from the day they'd shown up here themselves.
"I hate today." Bianchi muttered, clamping the pillow over her head.
Ah. She would wouldn't she? Nothing like having your fiance desert you when their father's fortunes turned, then having some high up official make hints about debt going away if certain favors were provided...
..well, long story short they'd all be sent off to the new concept of debtors prison. Their father hadn't survived long enough, with his poor health, to make the boat. The sisters had been scooped up day one for a brothel. Shorter story, well, the owner and financier had been poisoned and now the sister ran the brothel.
It was a...safer place now? In as much as anything could be safe here.
"Then ignore today. We'll need a new enforcer you know. We're good but people will still draw on us when they're drunk. We need someone who looks dangerous."
"You can handle it."
"You can get your ass out of bed," she snorted, tearing the blankets off the bed. "I have to stay here to open, which means YOU hit the docks! And you know the girls think some ladies they know may be coming, scoop them up too if you can!"
"I HATE YOU!"
"I know," she kicked the heavy bed for good measure, just make sure her sister was actually up, then went to go wash up and comb her hair. The platinum blonde locks that her father had been proud of, proud enough to claim her as a full child, had long since been cut to a more manageable length, so she was down and pulling down chairs and checking tables before anyone else hit the floor. Their little kitchen girls poked their head out to ask what to make for the meal tonight and that was it, she was left in peace.
It was better that way. Too much moaning and sighing from their night flowers and she got pissed enough to shake people. Bianchi got out the door a little while later, taking a good sturdy umbrella and the laundry woman who had arms like small trees. Good. That left her shrugging in a tight mens jacket and ringing the bell to let the ladies upstairs know she was opening. They rarely got much custom in the afternoon, but enough to make it worth opening.
When she wasn't at the bar serving she was at the piano at the end of the counter, playing, because why not? This was early hours, people wanted lunch and a nice atmosphere more than anything else. Or they usually did.
Their resident pain in the ass, Corporal Higgins, came swaggering an hour after Bianchi left, thumbs hooked in his belt and a sneer on his face, "See you still haven't sold this place!"
"Nope," she agreed easily, laying her hands casually on the counter.
"What I tell you last week? Ladies like you gonna get themselves hurt. That bruiser getting knifed didn't teach you to sell when we say sell?"
"I don't see a we," she growled softly. "I just see a you, and puffed up swaggert of one at that."
"Listen here whore," he leered, leaning across the counter, "we're tired of your lip. Little arms like yours? They break so easy..."
With a sigh she rolled her eyes and lashed a fist out, catching Higgins on the chin right and proper. Rather than let him recover she followed it up by vaulting the counter put a knee in his throat. "Listen here, you live this time, minus an ear I think since we already gave you one warning. You come back, or you send some little patrol to rough my customers up and I'll find you." One of the kitchen girls brought her a good knife and she nodded her thanks before taking it to the man.
Hell, she was kinder than Bianchi would have been.
"Scrub brushes," she called when the man staggered out, moaning and bleeding. Maybe her sister was right...this day was a terrible day.
When: A year or so in to their new life.
What: Two sisters have a bad day.
The day dawned cold and drizzly; perfect for a boat day honestly. Nothing hammered home the 'things are different here' than the blasted weather being opposite. Coming up on 'summer' back home and the winter rains were coming on properly here. A prison boat was inbound but she couldn't see any hint of it yet at the docks. That meant she could take a moment to enjoy the rain...
...if nothing else the rains here were cleaner, even if the seasons were back to front.
"Close the damn window," her sister snarled from their large bed. "It's cold..."
"Barely," she snorted, but she closed the thick pane anyway, amused. "What's got you in a mood already?" They were doing pretty good, honestly, from the day they'd shown up here themselves.
"I hate today." Bianchi muttered, clamping the pillow over her head.
Ah. She would wouldn't she? Nothing like having your fiance desert you when their father's fortunes turned, then having some high up official make hints about debt going away if certain favors were provided...
..well, long story short they'd all be sent off to the new concept of debtors prison. Their father hadn't survived long enough, with his poor health, to make the boat. The sisters had been scooped up day one for a brothel. Shorter story, well, the owner and financier had been poisoned and now the sister ran the brothel.
It was a...safer place now? In as much as anything could be safe here.
"Then ignore today. We'll need a new enforcer you know. We're good but people will still draw on us when they're drunk. We need someone who looks dangerous."
"You can handle it."
"You can get your ass out of bed," she snorted, tearing the blankets off the bed. "I have to stay here to open, which means YOU hit the docks! And you know the girls think some ladies they know may be coming, scoop them up too if you can!"
"I HATE YOU!"
"I know," she kicked the heavy bed for good measure, just make sure her sister was actually up, then went to go wash up and comb her hair. The platinum blonde locks that her father had been proud of, proud enough to claim her as a full child, had long since been cut to a more manageable length, so she was down and pulling down chairs and checking tables before anyone else hit the floor. Their little kitchen girls poked their head out to ask what to make for the meal tonight and that was it, she was left in peace.
It was better that way. Too much moaning and sighing from their night flowers and she got pissed enough to shake people. Bianchi got out the door a little while later, taking a good sturdy umbrella and the laundry woman who had arms like small trees. Good. That left her shrugging in a tight mens jacket and ringing the bell to let the ladies upstairs know she was opening. They rarely got much custom in the afternoon, but enough to make it worth opening.
When she wasn't at the bar serving she was at the piano at the end of the counter, playing, because why not? This was early hours, people wanted lunch and a nice atmosphere more than anything else. Or they usually did.
Their resident pain in the ass, Corporal Higgins, came swaggering an hour after Bianchi left, thumbs hooked in his belt and a sneer on his face, "See you still haven't sold this place!"
"Nope," she agreed easily, laying her hands casually on the counter.
"What I tell you last week? Ladies like you gonna get themselves hurt. That bruiser getting knifed didn't teach you to sell when we say sell?"
"I don't see a we," she growled softly. "I just see a you, and puffed up swaggert of one at that."
"Listen here whore," he leered, leaning across the counter, "we're tired of your lip. Little arms like yours? They break so easy..."
With a sigh she rolled her eyes and lashed a fist out, catching Higgins on the chin right and proper. Rather than let him recover she followed it up by vaulting the counter put a knee in his throat. "Listen here, you live this time, minus an ear I think since we already gave you one warning. You come back, or you send some little patrol to rough my customers up and I'll find you." One of the kitchen girls brought her a good knife and she nodded her thanks before taking it to the man.
Hell, she was kinder than Bianchi would have been.
"Scrub brushes," she called when the man staggered out, moaning and bleeding. Maybe her sister was right...this day was a terrible day.
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Yamamoto should have been back home, safe and sound, but staying at home his entire life had just never appealed to him. So one day he'd left without really looking back, choosing a life of adventure... or at least something that wasn't the same small town he'd grown up in. He'd absolutely never expected anyone to come with him, and when that anyone had turned out to be Tsuna...
He checked behind himself for probably the thirtieth time since the boat had docked, just to make sure Tsuna was still there. It was becoming a reflex.
Turning back around, he started to follow the directions of the crew that were herding them toward something that looked just a step up from the sort of corral you put livestock in. He had to chuckle, a little ironically, because maybe they weren't so many steps up from livestock right now.
A flash of color caught his eye and he glanced back to see a strikingly beautiful woman looking more put out than he'd known it was possible to look, which may have had something to do with the man who seemed to be harassing her. Because he obviously hadn't already gotten them both in enough trouble by being impulsive, he started shoving his way out of the crowd, ignoring poor Tsuna's startled shout from behind him.
He meant to ask the guy to stop, he really did, but then he had to go and lay hands on the woman, and... well, it was only a little punch. How was he supposed to know the guy had a glass jaw?
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...or...someone from the ship could lay the guy out. She watched the overseer go down and casually kicked the writ out of his hand for good measure. The man could get another, but it would cost him, and that was another solid dozen who wouldn't end up in his mines. That handled she looked the man over who had come off the boat.
Gallantry wasn't exactly something anyone expected from a prison transport. "You and your friend," she noted, "you were sent here...why?"
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Luckily for everyone involved, perhaps, Tsuna gathered his wits to answer for them before Yamamoto finished shaking out the ache in his hand. "We were foreign in the wrong place at the wrong time. We just need to earn enough money to book passage back home."
Yamamoto laughed lightly, nodding his head in easy agreement. "What he said. That's Tsuna. Tsunayoshi Sawada, I mean." He paused to make sure he'd gotten that in the right, Western order, because Tsuna sighed when people started calling him the wrong name. "I'm Takeshi Yamamoto."
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She could work with either, honestly, but she didn't want a set that would be looking to split as soon as she turned her gaze away.
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Tsuna made a sound that wasn't quite a sigh or a groan but that perfectly conveyed that he was used to Yamamoto's carefree attitude toward danger, disaster, and everything else untoward but he still didn't like it. "We- ...I was hoping someone might listen to reason, but..."
Look at him, acting like the world was ending. Yamamoto couldn't help ruffling his hair, which just made Tsuna look like he wouldn't mind the ground swallowing him already. "Cheer up. It's like an adventure, right?"
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"If we don't work out well together I'll give you leave to find new employment or arrangements after you've repaid your costs to the house." That was a standard agreement she offered anyone honestly.
"That said, come, here, you hold the umbrella, the other take my arm? It will keep the vultures off as we look for the rest of those we are here for today."
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A few awkward seconds passed before Yamamoto shrugged, accepting this as he did most things that weren't actively trying to kill him. Tsuna took a bit more nudging into action, but eventually he reached for the umbrella as she'd told him. One would think he'd never seen an umbrella before. Yamamoto's awkward offering of his arm wasn't much better; he looked like a boy imitating something he'd only seen done, which wasn't far off.
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Ever.
She patted Yamamoto's arm, chuckling, "relax, I don't bite, generally. Left if you would? We need to make our way to the ladies that my other companion has rounded up." Women who looked a bit rougher for wear and who had likely been on drugs or booze before getting forced into detox over the long voyage!
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"So... you get a lot of people, huh?" Was high turnover good or bad? Apparently even after traveling half the world, the other half of it was still pretty confusing. Yamamoto was never the best at small talk (that didn't involve some sort of sport or activity, anyway) so asking about the, um, help when you were one maybe wasn't the best thing to do, but she seemed nice enough and what was the worst that could happen at this point?
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"We are starting to gather some measure of respectability here, more farmers and work hands than bondsmen, but many of those are people who HAVE finished out their terms and chose to stay."
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The umbrella wobbled a bit as Tsuna facepalmed, making that same, put-out sigh-groan sound again, before he grabbed it to steady it with both hands. His friend was an idiot sometimes. He loved him dearly, but idiot.
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