I feel like a prostitute.

Jason stood at the large wall window of a penthouse ballroom in the center of neutral grounds. A very classy scene of "who has power in nuetral ground" sprawled out behind him. Diplomats, mob bosses, the works. This begged the question. What was a D ranked wizard with no particular standing in much of anywhere doing with the it crowd.

Well, when a hero and or bruiser needs money to make himself a better version of himself, and in general pay rent, you can't be too picky on which jobs you take. Jason was being paid as an escort to a rather wealthy man's daughter, on the premise that noone else would accompany her to these events because of her bad attitude. The only requirement was that the applicant have a handsome smile. Jason fit the bill. He had also been ordered by the client to act proper. The man had been rather questioning when Jason showed up in a ripped leather jacket with a sword. His sassy remark at his daughter's mood had almost lost him the job, but the girl had objected for some unknown reason.

He was dressed in a black shirt and red tie. His dark slacks were matched fine with his dress shoes. This was the only "nice" outfit he owned. His silence and blank stare were interrupted by a jolt from his left, a girl grabbing his arm.

"Hey big guy. You're with me, remember?" Jason looked in her direction with a flicker of annoyance, which quickly subsided into blankness and a cool smile. He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say." She was pretty, looking up at him. A bit ditzy, but gave the impression she acted that way on purpose. Her blue dress contrasted with his red tie drastically, but matched the colors of the tattoos on his forearms perfectly. He noticed almost at once, as these were his favorite colors. He raised an eyebrow.

"You like it? I, ah. Noticed your tattoos," She said with a wink. She began to stroll into the crowd, pulling Jason along firmly. Eventually he walked of his own free will, and managed to snatch a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

He threw it back in a single motion, and replaced it on a second platter passing by. It was clearly expensive, as Jason derived from the taste. Nothing that cost under 100 jewels a glass tasted like this angel spit.

It wasn't long until their party of two was ambushed by a group of exceptionally obnoxious rich couples.

"Oh, my, saints clara! How did you get a date like him." The words were cutting, stale. The girl with a fake nose and breasts who had spoken it had the instant air of a plastic from mean girls. Her sentance was obviously an insult masked as a backhanded compliment to the both of them. Jason's face went sour, and the girl beside him squeezed him tighter.

"Do not fuck this up for me, d-rank" Jason was surprised. Despite the other girl's hostility Clara had not lost her own bleach-like personality. Jason put back on his war mask. His kind yet blank smile came back at once.

She was rude, arrogant, and Jason wanted to get paid. He gritted his teeth before opening them to speak.

"Jason Ray," he said, extending his hand. The girl's eyes widened and she gave an even more obnoxious smile the rest of the group laughed at. Jason's own face was confused. She didn't take his hand for a moment.

"Shaking hands? How... polite." Her superiority complex was beginning to anger him. If he had not already filled his death quota for today on two muggers in the central district, he felt as though he would have to join a dark guild before the night was over. Warrior Saint give me strength. I'm gonna nead a damn lot. He thought to himself, as the girl lightly and quickly grasped his hand and he dropped it to his side. Only his willpower kept the smile on his face. The two other men in the pack of vicious twenty year olds eyed him suspiciously.

"So, Jason. What does your family do?" It was a rather odd question to him. He had no time to answer, however. Clara jumped in over his own beginning stutter.

"His father works in real estate. Owns a hotel in almost every town except the Ace of Spades." She spoke it like a stinging insult, as if they should know. Jason's face must have given something away, because the other's didn't seem totally convinced.

"Well thank the god's. At least you have class enough to not do buisness in the sabertooth wasteland. My father says they might as well be a mafia. Bunch of thick skulled bruisers. Their leader's the worst. Hikachu? Isn't that her name? What kind of a woman is she even." Jason's blood pressure had at least doubled by the bitch's second sentence. He stared. In awe, wide eyed. His mind was vicious and wild. He couldn't move from his rage. Jason had no loyalty to friends or family. His emotions were not tied to health or happiness. His entire loyalty, his entire heart. They lay with the very guild this bastard was insulting no less than two feat away. Jason wanted to explode.

Without thinking his arm reached out from his body. It was rigid. Flexed. Physically pulsing from his own racing heart. His movements were much faster than the average human, a blur to these rich brats. It looked as though he was going to punch a hole in the man's chest with a single blow.

Jason's hand lightly brushed aside some crumbs on the front of the man's shirt. He had flinched as soon as he could react before he realized what had actually happened. Jason was smiling now, his eyes kind and laughably bright. Red and blue orbs that an exceptionally observant wizard could see insanity in. It would look, to these regular people, like a kind face.

"Sorry, I just couldn't focus on what you were saying. You had crab cake on your shirt." He began to walk past him. Clara was just as surprised as the rest. Just as Jason Ray was beside the man who had spoken, he whispered so lightly that only the two could hear.

"Say a word about Sabertooth like that again, and I swear to the Warrior Saint i'll kill you. And it'll hurt the entire time you're dying." Despite this comment, he turned and smiled at him as if nothing had been said. Clara took a little two step hop to catch up with him.

"You wanna tell me what the hell just happened, idiot?" She was smiling at people as they passed, and speaking to him through her teeth.

"Agh. I need a shower." He meant it. He felt dirty. Not only was he a paid escort, he was forced not to kick the hell out of someone talking like that about Sabertooth. It sickened him. He knew the only thing that could be worse than letting that guy go about his life without a butt whooping, would be embarrassing Sabertooth with a bloodbath in the middle of an aristocratic event like this. Not to mention Jason would be immediately imprisoned or worse. The orchestra began to play a slower piece, and several couples were twirling about the ballroom floor in moments. Clara took Jason Ray roughly and pulled him close to her.

"At least dance with me and make me look good. Worthless escort you turned out to be." She said just so they could hear.

"What the hell are you even doing in a place like this? You know you're better than them. You can tell just by talking to you. And yet you walk around with a disgusting attitude and a disgraceful ego." Jason was staring over her head. His blue and red eyes clear now, and his brow furrowed just slightly in confusion.

Clara was shocked. She had never had these words spoken to her. In question. She had been told to act better. Told to shape up. Told she was a bitch and a liar and an embarrassment. She had never been asked why before.

"I know about your mother. It's why I was hired for crying out loud. Take it from a guy with bigger daddy issues than anyone.  Your father loves you. He's not like these people. And neither are you." As the two rotated, she spied her father acrossed the room. His laugh at another man's joke was the same forced laugh she saw so many times beforem she knew what his true laugh was like. The one she'd seen on his face so many times while her mother had lived. Tears prickled in her eyes.

"It's just. So..." she hung her head. Eyes were on them now. She couldn't hold them back.

"Don't be weak. You're better than that too. It's not weak to cry. It's weak to let them see you do it. Don't let them." Jason was looking down at her now. She smiled and gave a bitter scoff.

"Fuck you man." She was genuinely smiling now, the tears fading back into her lids. Barely audible, just as the song died, she spoke her last words of the evening. "Thankyou."