https://www.fairytail-rp.com/t43132-demon-s-den-sinister-competition
https://www.fairytail-rp.com/t41785-d-rank-free-form
The night was cool as gladiia made her way to the bar. The glowing 7 told her it was the right spot, the graffiti on the windows also made it clear of it’s troubles. She entered the establishment, the inside marked like a traditional club with a noticeable checkered pattern on its borders. She walked up to the bartender, a feline fellow who merely looked exasperated at her approach. “Sorry ma'am we're closed at the moment.” A practiced phrase by the sound of his voice. Gladiia waited before continuing, “I’m actually here to see Samuel?” The feline’s eyes snapped to her face, and with a small nod he would retreat to the back room. A man would walk out after, pressed suit and nice black slacks. His shined leather shoes reflected the dim light as he approached Gladiia. “You were sent by our mutual friend?” “Yes sir, Gladiia Stralken at your service.” The man, Samuel, sighed with relief as he reached from behind the counter and brought out two glasses. He then pulled out a bottle of brand “Lady Luck” whiskey from it and offered Gladdia a glass, which she accepted.
With glasses poured and indulged, a rather hard kick but pleasant aftertaste, the two settled. Samuel would begin, “Well I assume you already know about the demon’s den?” Gladiia gave a small nod, “A rival club to yours that has been sabotaging your business and expanding at the same rate?”
“Yes, I just need them to understand that their behavior won’t be tolerated anymore. Also do not worry about payment, our mutual friend should be holding onto it as we speak.”
“Then I shall make haste.”
“You don’t need directions?”
“Thank you sir, but I already have the location, our mutual friend wants this situation resolved quickly.”
The walk over wasn’t too long, a few corners into an alleyway and she was at its entrance. She could see why this location was sabotaging the lucky 7, it was absolutely shoddy as far as establishments went. And no bouncer at the door? Why, that was just asking for trouble to come through the door. And so she did, spear in hand as she entered the den. Den was accurate, dim lights with dark shadows stretching from every corner. The ‘patrons’ were far from folk who were respected in society, all had eyes on her as she entered. She would walk up to the bar keep, spear still in hand as waited for a bartender she knew wouldn’t come, surely leaving out the back at the sight of her entrance. She hummed as she waited, the thugs now beginning to circle her, some with pole cues in hand and others reaching for hidden weapons. She suddenly tsk’d, the thugs stopping at the sound of it. “What a shoddy establishment, you'll have to forgive me for the insult, but no one should be caught dead in a place like this.”
The next moments happened fast, one of the thugs approached her with a club being pulled out, others poised to strike. Gladiia in response would exhale out a fast filling steam cloud, one that would fill the whole establishment. Sounds of pain and confusion filled the air as she got up. While the thugs quickly began to fall and crumble around her, a figure in leather clothing had entered the fog. As far as Gladiia could tell, he was no human, and handled the steam cloud with ease. She decided to test his worth and sent out a ball of steam, landing with a sound thud on the figure. He grunted from the pain, but stood solid, now revealing a rather serious club. She would move forward, the brute sensing something approaching made a wild swing in the direction. She passed through as the wind, club passing through her form and hitting a chair splintering it into smithereens. Coming out of the form, she made a fierce slash with her lance into the back, this enough to floor the brute.
Her senses then picked up on something, and she turned to receive a club in the face. She actually was sent back into the bar, landing on it with a solid thud, hat landing over her face.
She removed the hat, her head spinning as the steam cloud cleared to reveal two more of the brutes standing amongst the bodies of former patrons. She merely stood back up and put her hat on the top of her head again, staring down the two. “Done hiding?!” “Time to face the smash!” One would say after the other, and both rushed forward. Gladiia poised herself, at the last moment she disappeared into a tempest once more, reappearing on the side with the both of them in front of her. Their loss, as with a swing of her lance she caused a twister to hit the closest one to her, the second being slammed by the twister as it rushed towards him. The two laid in a rubble of wood and furniture alike kicked up by the spell. Both began to rise groggily before two more sphere’s of wind knocked them into unconsciousness.
Gladiia gave a sigh at the mayhem she caused and sat at the one remaining bar stool left, surveying her handiwork. She heard the door open and turned to see a massive man enter, standing a whole foot above gladiia and about as bulky as a brick house. He looked over the destruction with a sigh and lit a cigar, using his finger to produce the light. “Well my patron,” the man began, his voice deep with a slight distortion, betraying an otherworldly nature to him, “I suppose you're not here just looking for a brawl?” Gladiia gave a sigh and straightened her hat sizing the man up, in her the magic seemed to energize. “No, your rather aggressive campaign to advertise the demon’s den has earned the ire of my organization.”
“Oh? It’s just business my dear. I’m sure the lucky 7 can recover from one location having to deal with a little competition.”
“Sure, though your company having a club at every lucky 7 is a curious coincidence is it not? Who's to say your other branches may do what you're doing here?”
“How much is lucky 7 really worth to you? Surely your talents would be more at use with the demon’s den?”
“You'll have to forgive me, I come from another organization who has interest in lucky 7’s continued existence. And they offer me much more than what you could offer.” Gladiia would highlight this point by removing her glove just enough to reveal the serpent’s tattoo.
The manager seemed to recognize it, a look of comprehension grew on his face. “Hummm, I didn't quite realize Mammon was involved…Well dear! I’m afraid it’s closing time here and I'll have to ask you to leave.” With this and a snap of his fingers he disappeared in a flash of fire and smoke, the smell of brimstone filled the air.
Gladiia walked away from the demon’s den, now returning back to hell as fire engulfed it, the smell of burning flesh filled the air from those who didn’t get out fast enough. Gladiia was by a corner of an alley, she pulled out a mirror and traced a near complete circle. An image began to form of a spirit, it’s tone a well rehearsed question. “Transportation?” “No” she began, then continued, “I desire to speak with Sir Mammon.” The spirit nodded and faded from view, eventually another image began to form, his image formed in the mirror of a well kept tanned man, Gladiia knowing his true nature.
“Ms. Stralken! What a pleasure, I presume Lucky 7’s issue is now dealt with?” He began, his tone flowed as honey and just as sweet. “Sir Mammon, the demon’s den has suffered an unfortunate fire, and some patrons perished in the flames. Such a tragedy, they won’t appear here again.”
“How sad! Lucky 7 will have to pick up the slack from it. Your payment to deal with our client’s issue will be waiting here for you.”
“I do have another matter to report sir.”
“Oh?”
“The manager of the demon’s den in this branch was most definitely a demon. Furthermore, after realizing who he was dealing with he brought up your name sir.”
Mammon was deep in thought for a moment, his brow knitted, “It seems then that old associates are back in the game. Fret not about it for now Ms. Stralken, though I would like you to be available in the near future. I will need your service again for this developing issue.”
“Always at your service sir.” And with her response, the image disappeared leaving the only image to be hers. She looked long at it, red eyes examining a cruel creature that burned others alive. She put the mirror away, she knew that such actions paled in comparison to many others alive, including her enemies. Enemies that would do what she had done without hesitation, the ones that truly mattered to her. And if she had to salt their ground with the ashes of others then so be it. She walked away from the flashing lights of the bar, and soon entered the darkness of the night.
WC: 1,550
https://www.fairytail-rp.com/t41785-d-rank-free-form
The night was cool as gladiia made her way to the bar. The glowing 7 told her it was the right spot, the graffiti on the windows also made it clear of it’s troubles. She entered the establishment, the inside marked like a traditional club with a noticeable checkered pattern on its borders. She walked up to the bartender, a feline fellow who merely looked exasperated at her approach. “Sorry ma'am we're closed at the moment.” A practiced phrase by the sound of his voice. Gladiia waited before continuing, “I’m actually here to see Samuel?” The feline’s eyes snapped to her face, and with a small nod he would retreat to the back room. A man would walk out after, pressed suit and nice black slacks. His shined leather shoes reflected the dim light as he approached Gladiia. “You were sent by our mutual friend?” “Yes sir, Gladiia Stralken at your service.” The man, Samuel, sighed with relief as he reached from behind the counter and brought out two glasses. He then pulled out a bottle of brand “Lady Luck” whiskey from it and offered Gladdia a glass, which she accepted.
With glasses poured and indulged, a rather hard kick but pleasant aftertaste, the two settled. Samuel would begin, “Well I assume you already know about the demon’s den?” Gladiia gave a small nod, “A rival club to yours that has been sabotaging your business and expanding at the same rate?”
“Yes, I just need them to understand that their behavior won’t be tolerated anymore. Also do not worry about payment, our mutual friend should be holding onto it as we speak.”
“Then I shall make haste.”
“You don’t need directions?”
“Thank you sir, but I already have the location, our mutual friend wants this situation resolved quickly.”
The walk over wasn’t too long, a few corners into an alleyway and she was at its entrance. She could see why this location was sabotaging the lucky 7, it was absolutely shoddy as far as establishments went. And no bouncer at the door? Why, that was just asking for trouble to come through the door. And so she did, spear in hand as she entered the den. Den was accurate, dim lights with dark shadows stretching from every corner. The ‘patrons’ were far from folk who were respected in society, all had eyes on her as she entered. She would walk up to the bar keep, spear still in hand as waited for a bartender she knew wouldn’t come, surely leaving out the back at the sight of her entrance. She hummed as she waited, the thugs now beginning to circle her, some with pole cues in hand and others reaching for hidden weapons. She suddenly tsk’d, the thugs stopping at the sound of it. “What a shoddy establishment, you'll have to forgive me for the insult, but no one should be caught dead in a place like this.”
The next moments happened fast, one of the thugs approached her with a club being pulled out, others poised to strike. Gladiia in response would exhale out a fast filling steam cloud, one that would fill the whole establishment. Sounds of pain and confusion filled the air as she got up. While the thugs quickly began to fall and crumble around her, a figure in leather clothing had entered the fog. As far as Gladiia could tell, he was no human, and handled the steam cloud with ease. She decided to test his worth and sent out a ball of steam, landing with a sound thud on the figure. He grunted from the pain, but stood solid, now revealing a rather serious club. She would move forward, the brute sensing something approaching made a wild swing in the direction. She passed through as the wind, club passing through her form and hitting a chair splintering it into smithereens. Coming out of the form, she made a fierce slash with her lance into the back, this enough to floor the brute.
Her senses then picked up on something, and she turned to receive a club in the face. She actually was sent back into the bar, landing on it with a solid thud, hat landing over her face.
She removed the hat, her head spinning as the steam cloud cleared to reveal two more of the brutes standing amongst the bodies of former patrons. She merely stood back up and put her hat on the top of her head again, staring down the two. “Done hiding?!” “Time to face the smash!” One would say after the other, and both rushed forward. Gladiia poised herself, at the last moment she disappeared into a tempest once more, reappearing on the side with the both of them in front of her. Their loss, as with a swing of her lance she caused a twister to hit the closest one to her, the second being slammed by the twister as it rushed towards him. The two laid in a rubble of wood and furniture alike kicked up by the spell. Both began to rise groggily before two more sphere’s of wind knocked them into unconsciousness.
Gladiia gave a sigh at the mayhem she caused and sat at the one remaining bar stool left, surveying her handiwork. She heard the door open and turned to see a massive man enter, standing a whole foot above gladiia and about as bulky as a brick house. He looked over the destruction with a sigh and lit a cigar, using his finger to produce the light. “Well my patron,” the man began, his voice deep with a slight distortion, betraying an otherworldly nature to him, “I suppose you're not here just looking for a brawl?” Gladiia gave a sigh and straightened her hat sizing the man up, in her the magic seemed to energize. “No, your rather aggressive campaign to advertise the demon’s den has earned the ire of my organization.”
“Oh? It’s just business my dear. I’m sure the lucky 7 can recover from one location having to deal with a little competition.”
“Sure, though your company having a club at every lucky 7 is a curious coincidence is it not? Who's to say your other branches may do what you're doing here?”
“How much is lucky 7 really worth to you? Surely your talents would be more at use with the demon’s den?”
“You'll have to forgive me, I come from another organization who has interest in lucky 7’s continued existence. And they offer me much more than what you could offer.” Gladiia would highlight this point by removing her glove just enough to reveal the serpent’s tattoo.
The manager seemed to recognize it, a look of comprehension grew on his face. “Hummm, I didn't quite realize Mammon was involved…Well dear! I’m afraid it’s closing time here and I'll have to ask you to leave.” With this and a snap of his fingers he disappeared in a flash of fire and smoke, the smell of brimstone filled the air.
Gladiia walked away from the demon’s den, now returning back to hell as fire engulfed it, the smell of burning flesh filled the air from those who didn’t get out fast enough. Gladiia was by a corner of an alley, she pulled out a mirror and traced a near complete circle. An image began to form of a spirit, it’s tone a well rehearsed question. “Transportation?” “No” she began, then continued, “I desire to speak with Sir Mammon.” The spirit nodded and faded from view, eventually another image began to form, his image formed in the mirror of a well kept tanned man, Gladiia knowing his true nature.
“Ms. Stralken! What a pleasure, I presume Lucky 7’s issue is now dealt with?” He began, his tone flowed as honey and just as sweet. “Sir Mammon, the demon’s den has suffered an unfortunate fire, and some patrons perished in the flames. Such a tragedy, they won’t appear here again.”
“How sad! Lucky 7 will have to pick up the slack from it. Your payment to deal with our client’s issue will be waiting here for you.”
“I do have another matter to report sir.”
“Oh?”
“The manager of the demon’s den in this branch was most definitely a demon. Furthermore, after realizing who he was dealing with he brought up your name sir.”
Mammon was deep in thought for a moment, his brow knitted, “It seems then that old associates are back in the game. Fret not about it for now Ms. Stralken, though I would like you to be available in the near future. I will need your service again for this developing issue.”
“Always at your service sir.” And with her response, the image disappeared leaving the only image to be hers. She looked long at it, red eyes examining a cruel creature that burned others alive. She put the mirror away, she knew that such actions paled in comparison to many others alive, including her enemies. Enemies that would do what she had done without hesitation, the ones that truly mattered to her. And if she had to salt their ground with the ashes of others then so be it. She walked away from the flashing lights of the bar, and soon entered the darkness of the night.
WC: 1,550
