Dangerous Deals [Tesoro Family/Mythica]

The mansion air was crisper and cleaner than winter winds and filled the chests of all who'd inhale with the wholesome, homely aroma of perfume and scented waxes that exhumed from every chamber that'd let it. It was a feeling so foreign to the pretty-faced, relatively skinny man who sat in his chambers with a twist of chiffon locks coiled around his gloved fingers, but few could ever guess that he wasn't accustomed to the life of a wealthy man. Just months or so ago did he and his closest colleagues find themselves and whatever tangible marks of themselves they've created completely erased from the eyes of Fiore, but quite frankly he had stopped keeping track of the time that has passed them. From rags to riches and from water to wine, the former Basilisks had used their wits to establish something far greater than themselves. As far as this man was concerned, Ahote Laspor was now Giovanni Tesoro, Don of the Tesoro Family, and his rather showy abode now homed in Lavanitir Port City.

And so, Giovanni, who was well dressed in a vest-suit of traditional black and white palettes besides the elegantly put cobalt tie at its center, reclined in his leather chair with his pair of crossed legs perching themselves on a mahogany desk that glimmered in the sunlight that poured through the stainless windows as if to boast its cleanliness. He stared at the equally excellent ceiling with great chipperness pulsating in his clear, azure eyes, his fingers tapping against one another excessively and his throat emitting hearty hums from its depths. Clearly, his excitement couldn't remain unknown. His eyes twinkled with a light that one could never have guessed came from a man so bitter in memory and in life.

In the very corner of this room stood an equally skinny, petite young man with red, messy curled hair and unimpressive hazelnut eyes. He was well dressed in a vest-suit of the same traditional colors and fiddled with his thumbs impatiently. "Boss, you don't s'pose they won't arri--"

"Quiet now, Angelo!" Giovanni interrupted with tepid enthusiasm, yet spitting an acute frustration. "There is no deadline for deals such as these. We shall wait all week if we must. That is the nature of this meeting, young man." Giovanni continued with his lecture, while he himself was equally as young, if not younger. They waited at the very top floor of the manor, in the one of the most extravagant rooms. It was fitting for a Don, who could see Lavanitir Port City from the very windows that exposed him from afar. The two, and perhaps the many others who marched about the manor, waited patiently for the guildmaster of Nightmare to appear before them, escorted by the gatekeepers who'd await her arrival.

The coppery smell of blood quickly battled against powerful aromas that circulated the estate, but Giovanni would not stir from his seat. The apprehensive Angelo, despite not having the faintest idea of what foul stench awaited them, continued to fiddle with his thumbs and the two waited impatiently for their guest to arrive. And so she did.

When the esteemed Mythica strut into the room with an acute swagger, Giovanni erected from his reclined position and leaned over his desk with an awful amount of awe bleeding through his countenance as if some celebrity had joined his company. His cheeks flushed a peachy pinkness, azure eyes sharp and glossy with a twinkle of interest within them. His cheeky smile filled the room with a welcoming warmth none could suspect except the ever-anxious Angelo, who first noticed not the girl but the crimson that stained her shoes. Instantly he wondered just where such blood could've been acquired and grimaced as if grieving some loss. He was more visibly confused than upset.

Giovanni stood from his seat with arms crossing over his chest, clicking his tongue with a sort of "tut-tut" kind of sound, "Giovanni Tesoro. A pleasure." he started, yet his soft introduction couldn't reflect on his quizzically perplexed expression. "I hope you didn't kill the poor man. But no matter, we'll tend to it." Giovanni insisted matter-of-factly, looking at Angelo before the young man quickly removed himself from the room and left to, as was put, tend to it.

The chiffon-haired man looked back to Mythica with a tepid enthusiasm stilled to his lips, sitting back down in his leather seat. "I'm glad you came today, Mythica. It would've been a shame if you hadn't." he started casually, his voice thick and silvery. "I trust you know well of the purpose of this meeting, don't you?"

It was easy to tell that Mythica was, at most, skeptical of the place and his indiscreet invitation. Her looking around and quickness to slaughter men like misbehaving dogs, it portrayed her confidence well and rather cutely. But despite her qualms and whatever hostilities that came with it, Giovanni patiently kept to his seat, unwavering, welcoming, for the difference in their power was immense, him but a cub next to a strutting lioness, and a verbose beast she was. It seemed Giovanni gravitated towards wordy people and although he'd frequently converse with them, he'd only listen half the time. But this woman was hardly incapable of being ignored.

Mythica crept over to the desk, the soles of her feet tapping rhythmically against the marble, each step louder than before and sending icy shivers through veins pumping blood to one's head anxiously. She had a deathlike strut with wide enough eyes to see one's pale expression reflect in its glossy pools. But when Giovanni stared into it, he could only see a quizzical man who wore only a peachy smile, albeit he looked more perplexed at the time than anything. He'd caress his jaw within one palm and tap leisurely tap the desk with the other, listening to her riddles-for-words until his azure eyes would graze over the lean figure of Mythica, who sprawled over his desk as if it were her property. He smiled again, "I no longer tread waters as conspicuously as I once did, but I will wave to a friend when I see one." Giovanni began pleasantly, "Mythica, such like-minded people are few. This friendship, I hope, is meant to bear only the fruits of our collaboration, whatever that might be to you. In other words, let us support each other for future endeavors." his smile became less peachy and twisted into one of an honest man's. It was soft yet firm and unwavering, but his azure eyes twinkled brightly still.

Giovanni looked down to what space Mythica didn't cover on his desk with a fixed, still gaze, thinking. "Livelihood is temporary no matter what magic you cast on your being to preserve it. But the essence of glory and power are immortal if we use our livelihood to preserve it," he'd drone, looking solemnly back to Mythica, "I only want good things for you."

What Giovanni said was true, his want and desire to provide only bright futures for her and her followers. But even with the questionable deal they were arranging, other things had been on his mind. His mansion was regal and delicate-looking, but with the fortitude and construction like a fortress. For how glamorous and sumptuous it was decorated and treated, the white serpent often fell into his old ways of brooding and solemnity time and time again. It was no longer the home of the Basilisks, but the home of some greater evil.

"How did this girl end up like this?" he wondered. What choices were made for her and what of them did she make for her to be in such circumstances? It was far more interesting and personable of a thought than typical deals and trades. But he did not like his gaze wander like his mind.

When Mythica moved in closer to this pretty-faced Don, Giovanni returned her attempts with his cheeky smile and twinkling eyes. He would not lean closer, but his voice reduced to the softest of whispers, his breath smelling of sweet citrus, speaking as if his lips were grazing her ears, "There is nothing to be confused over, Mythica," his fingers were twine into one another, all folding together as he'd whisper this, "I offer you our allegiance, and what may come of it simply depends on your plans. I cannot detail our use without knowing what such a diabolical mind has in store for their future, can I?" Giovanni giggled mordantly.

A moment of thinning silence broke with the droning click of his tongue and reclining himself into his seat once more. His smiled widened, "Consider us friends, Mythica! What do you suppose friends do together? Gossip? Go out to eat? Whatever friendship might be to you, it is my family's duty to be that. It is my duty. We have common goals, you know!" a hum rung from his throat as if the subject had been a casual one, ridden of formalities and tension.