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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