[center] [img]http://i.imgur.com/mq3ylMP.jpg[/img] [/center] Whoever Tao Yin was (or rather, had been) he was important to the Italians; so important that they’d set Nyxvira up with a ritzy little apartment in the Silver Expanse, complete with hot water and working electricity. Nyxie had consider tipping the Hanged Men off as well, in a mad gamble to double her profits, but it would bode [b]very[/b] badly for her if either side found out she’d helped their rival, so she’d stuck with helping the Italians. “You’ve got ya bathroom just off to the left there, and a bedroom past the kitchen,” Joshua Cavalio explained, as he led Nyxie into the apartment, hands stuffed into the pockets of his long brown coat “got yourself one of them nice fridges, with enough food to last you...however long.” Nyxvira was only half listening to the Italian, all caught up in the modest splendour of her new living space. The apartment was well-lit, freshly painted, and done up with the sort of furniture that cost half the rent of her place back at Draper’s. The lack of blood and semen staining the floor was just icing on top of the already scrumptious cake. “Your boss must have really hated that Tao Yin guy…” Nyxie murmured, gazing at her new home with wide eyes. It had been years since she’d left her ancestral grove, and she'd gotten used to far more humble surroundings. “Yeah, tell me about it,” Cavalio laughed dryly “speaking of which, there’s another job lined up; if you’re interested.” “Honestly, I’m happy just enjoying a place where I outnumber the rats.” Nyxie said with a smirk and a shrug of her shoulders. “Can’t say I blame you.” the Italian chuckled, laugh lines appearing on his otherwise smooth face. “But, I’ll bite,” she decided “what’ve you got in mind?” “One of the gents upstairs needs some small ,and easy to control, hands to help with a very delicate mission,” Cavalio explained “if the stories are true, we reckon you might be able to help us.” Nyxvira pretended to be considering the proposal. A chance to hone her crafts, AND get paid for it in the process?![i]Fucking jackpot.[/i] “I’ll need a car and some cash.” She declared. “Its as good as yours.” Cavalio nodded. [hr] The Italians had some kind of Mercedes-Benz lying around for one reason or another, which was what Nyxvira drove as she pulled up into the rocky driveway of the [i]Saint Somabra Home For Wayward Young Girls[/i]. She killed the engine with the twist of a key, staring up at the red brick monstrosity which loomed above her, with its pale archways, and great white spires. Slit-like windows lined the building, making it look like a kind of medieval fortress, and some sort of biblical script was etched into the walls. Nyxie popped the door open and climbed out onto the drive, her boot-clad feet crunching down on the stone-ridden earth. The walk to the Mother Superior’s office was a long one, through ripe green courtyards, and up winding stone staircases. She passed small haggles of uniform-clad girls, and darkly robed nuns, whilst an air of oppressive calm held the whole building in its grip. The Mother Superior sat scribbling in a big leather-bound book, seated behind an oak desk with a record player scratching out some old timey record. [center] [i] The dream I built for us has tumbled, Each promise broken like my heart. It's a sin, my darling how I love you, So much in love and yet so far apart. [/i] [/center] “Mother Superior.” Nyxie said simply. “Child.” The old woman croaked, her face as withered and leathery as the book she wrote in. “I’m here on behalf of-” “I know why you’re here, child,” The nun cut her off with the wave of her hand “the same reason you were here last time.” “Not exactly the same,” The Faerie reached into her jacket pocket, fishing out a fat wad of dollar bills, bound up in rubber bands “I’ve got a bit more cash this time.” “Excellent,” The old woman grinned, showing off teeth that were yellow with rot “the girls will find sanctity in their suffering, like Christ upon the cross.” Nyxie snorted at that. “I’ll need twelve girls, all in good health.” “I want fifty dollars per child.” The Mother Superior announced. “You charged me thirty last time!” Nyxvira objected. “I know your games, Faerie,” the old woman tittered“if I give these girls to you, I won’t be seeing them again. Therefore, I want fifty dollars per child.” [center] [i]It's a sin to hide behind this heartache, To make believe that I've found someone new. It's a sin to say that I don't miss you, When people know I'm still in love with you.[/i] [/center] “Eh, it's not my money.” Nyxie reasoned, counting out six hundred dollars, and placing it flat on the Mother Superior’s desk. “Very good,” The crone nodded her head “I’ll show you to the dorms, and you can take your pick.” [center] [i] I'm sure you're happy with another, Who shares the love I couldn't win. Why pretend that I can't live without you, When deep inside I know that it's a sin? [/i] [/center] [hr] “M-Miss, please,” A little girl by the name of Susie mumbled, teary eyed as she clutched hold of a stuffed rabbit with floppy ears “I don’t like this place.” She sat in an old metal chair that had gone red with rust, in a dark room with no company save for the plump woman with the funny voice and the curly red hair. “You won’t be here much longer, Susie,” the woman promised in her soft yet scratchy manner“I just need your help with something, first.” “I’m good for nothing, Missus.” Susie mumbled, staring at the floor. “Why would you say such an awful thing?” The woman moved towards her, rubbing the back of her neck ever-so-softly. Her fat fingers felt nice against her skin. “Momma always said so,” Susie explained “and the Mother Superior, too.” “Well, the Mother Superior is a withered old crone.” “You can’t say that, Missus!” The little girl gasped “God will hear you!” “Trust me, Susie,” The plump lady slid one hand into her jacket pocket, pulling out something long and sharp “God isn’t watching.” The last thing Susie felt was the needle biting into her neck.