Hell Is Wrapped in Darkness. . .

Everything had worked out, in the end. That which he had sought out so carefully had been obtained, and now all there was to be done would be to transfer it into the hands of those who had sought out his services. Give and collect. For that affair, he would leave under the cover of darkness from the house that he had his sister shared. Exhaustion was a drape over him, a fair amount of energy given in the last leap of days. Most times, it was more than enough in his book to contend with the sun itself, let alone this level of exertion. However, he couldn't complain much - not with this much coin to be had.

He entered through the bar front, his mask undoubtedly drawing the stare of a few passerby as he gave a nod to the tender. "Just here to see my favorite gal." An explanation he doubted the woman needed, but one he gave regardless. After all, at this point he was nearly a regular. Though his visits and his needs were never quite so base as other frequent visitors, but that was something only shared between he and the woman he sought who had a particular way to soften the tongues and part the lips of strangers. She also had her own web of connections - ones he found preferable to exploit for his own gains.

It was for this reason now that he returned to her doorstep. To complete the loop that had begun. To add fuel to an already dangerous fire. To recline and watch this world burn within it.

!

. . . And Even the Flowers Don't Bloom

the fit Sweat began to bead along the front of my brow, the subtle curve of my neck and the small of my back carefully hidden beneath the thin veil of olive silk lined with golden thread and intricate stitching.  In it, my girlish shoulders were exposed within the wrist-length sleeves.  Lush hips were bare from the slit carefully designed to end at the waist, the plunge of my breasts and the swell of my thighs barely covered in black lace.  The soft material nearly swayed down at my ankles encircled in thin and delicate golden chains.  A suit to attract the eye, to entice fantasies of pleasure and promise within the hearts of wanting men. Men whose tongues were looser than their wallets.  Men who came here seeking to be rid of the mundane, the stress of their wives, and the woes of a society that did not appreciate them.  Among them, I heard all reasons why I had been chosen.  Very few reserved my room just to merely talk so I'd found myself surprised the first time he had come to me. "Just here to see my favourite gal." His voice was a welcomed reprieve, the salvation that would liberate me from the confines of working the dining hall of Madam Vega's front house.  While I appreciated it far more than the other... sultry work towards which I was employed, one could only endure being stared at like a piece of meat for so long.  My body ached from the labour and my feet felt almost numb in these damned heels.  What I wouldn't give to be able to toss them into the embers of the hearth. With a smile, I'd place the tray on the bar counter where my patron lingered before attempting to clasp his tanned, soft hand in mine to try and gingerly kiss the breadth of his knuckles.  "It's been too long, monsieur.  I've begun to think you'd forgotten all about me."  My voice was a jesting tease.  "The usual room?"  I'd ask with a pique of my brow though I already knew the answer.  He preferred the quietest, most isolated room in the brothel and it just so happened to be empty, for the time being.