[center][sub][h3][i][color=ffb6c1]S h e i a r a   F a y e b y e n e[/color][/i][/h3][/sub][/center]

[center][sup]O M I N A R   |   D a y  3   |   4 : 3 5  A M[/sup][/center]


The silver briefcase sounded with a click once the combination had be input on both of the locks and as the top was slowly opened to reveal the contents, the man standing on the side of the double-stacked crates couldn't help but allow one corner of his lips to curl upwards. His dull, brown eyes immediately honed it and absorbed the reality before them; there was no mistaking it, he was well and truly staring at two-hundred grand. Each bundle of bills was packed meticulously and with the exact same amount as the bundle next to it. Even without touching it, the somehow composed man could see the crispness of the tender and a fleeting thought bubbled at the prospect that the money was even fresh. Keeping his ringed hands clasped in front of him, the man rolled his shoulders and reclaimed the visage of the buyer across from him. "It's all there, ain't it?" He asked, a slight rhetorical undertow infecting his tone. 

The buyer, another male, simply nodded his head. He was taller than his buyer, but thinner and wore an expensive looking suit versus the black leather jacket, button-down, and chinos of his prospective patron. He was also visibly younger with a less wrinkled skin and a fresh buzz-cut rounding out his professional appearance. He wore thin-rimmed glasses with dark lenses covering his eyes and his hands were also clasped at the front--clearly two men engaging in a business proposition, though the respective entourage accompanying each brought doubt as to the trust built between the two. Behind the dealer stood a group of similarly dressed yes-men, some standing with hands behind the back and others just casually awaiting the conclusion of the deal. Behind the buyer was a similar group although there was one standout. A woman, quite clearly taller than the average, stood next to the dealer with an unrelenting glare aimed at the buyer and his group. 

She was dressed in a form-fitting, dark-colored top and a much lighter pair of jeans with a jacket that only fell to her mid-torso and boots that matched the goldish-brown of the unzipped attire. Her elongated arms hung loosely at her sides and her auburn hair was pulled back into a hanging ponytail. Hazel eyes scanned over each of the men that stood on the other side of the crates over and over. She figured the actual exchange would be tense, but time seemed to go on forever as the men had taken to discussion before getting down to the meat and potatoes of everything. It didn't help that the meeting was set in a classically stereotypical warehouse with crates upon crates of anything and everything stacked up high towards the even higher ceiling in all directions. The densely packed area was of some strategic value however with the only accessible entries some distance behind each of the two groups. Two of the bigger crates had been brought to the center of the building beforehand and stacked on top of one another to create a table of sorts beforehand and it was also planned that each group would enter through one of the two entries created so that everyone knew there was no one hiding away in advance, waiting to pop out of some corner and snipe everyone. The woman was still distrustful of the people across from her though. 

"We'll need to make sure it's real, o'course. Gimme a few minutes," the dealer said, taking the open briefcase and turning to one of his men who had immediately stepped forward. Some of the others set up another crate and began pulling bundles from the case while the dealer looked on with eager, greedy eyes. The woman shook her head. 

"I've already informed you of my distaste for this transaction, Melvin," she said in a low voice to the well-dressed buyer. Melvin kept his gaze on the counters and the dealer. 

"And I heard you the first time, Shei. Don't worry. I got this." He replied calmly. Sheiara sighed. She had been in business with Melvin for some time now, but these exchanges never made her feel comfortable. Then again, Sheiara Fayebyene had never been known as the most trusting person--at least, in this century of her lifespan. She folded her arms and also kept her gaze on the counting men. 

"I understand that we have been party to many of these types of deals in the past, usually on the other side of the table. However, there is something that just... Strikes me irregularly about this one. About this [i]man[/i]."

"Well, we wouldn't want you to feel irregularly struck, of course," Melvin said, "But again, I got this. Even in those rare instances where we have to play the buyer role, we still vet every guy we work with. Just don't do anything unless I give you the word. Promise me?" 

Sheiara was silent for a moment, closing her eyes to seemingly search her soul for the strength to calm down before reopening them and exhaling. Her hands dropped back down to her sides. "Okay, okay. The word it is," she replied simply. Melvin nodded softly in acknowledgement just as the dealer turned back around, a sleazy grin on his face and the glint of a gold tooth in his mouth. His men took on newly alert and reinvigorated stances as their boss returned to the forefront at the one side of the makeshift table. Sheiara did nothing. 

"Well now, seems we got a bit of a problem," the dealer began. Melvin stood completely still, composed. 

"How's that? It was simple. Two-hundred grand for a bulk shipment of hardware. No one can mess that up." 

"Except for you, apparently." The dealer pointed a gold-ringed finger at Melvin. Melvin remained composed, though the hint of a smirk began to form. Sheiara did nothing. 

"We brought the hardware, as promised. Even let ya see some of the product in good faith." The dealer motioned to an opened crate off to one side. Rows of long guns stacked on top of one another filled the box. "We understand your normal supplier was... Unlucky, we'll say... When the Prae came down on'im. I feel like the relationship he described was just a bit inaccurate, though." 

Melvin nonchalantly removed his glasses and tucked them neatly into his suit jacket's front pocket. Stern, but still composed azure eyes bore into the dealer. "What's the matter? You want to change the arrangement now? Is that it?" He asked, his smirk slowly, almost invisibly growing. Sheiara did nothing. 

"Oh no, I'm a man of my word, sir! We agreed on two-hundred grand and that's all I expect to take, nothin' more. The only problem is... Well, that's not exactly two-hundred grand. Of course, you knew this already." 

Melvin remained still. "How would I know something like that if isn't the case? It's not like we're hurting for money. We don't need to rip someone like you off." 

The dealer chuckled. "Someone like me, huh? That little insult aside, if that's true, then why in the hell is there is only one-fifty? Fifty thousand of that neat-lookin' pile is fraudulent as fuck. Sir." 

Melvin's men shuffled positions and changed stances behind him. Melvin raised a hand, his gaze locked with the dealers. "Ahh, so that's your game." 

"Game?" 

"See, as friend once said to me, it always struck me as [i]irregular[/i] how your income seemed to grow in such a short period of time yet not even one of my connections can name you or speak to the quality of your hardware. A guy as successful as you would surely be more popular, right? I mean, your weapons should be the stuff of legend at this rate." 

The dealer remained silent. 

"We looked into your finances before accepting this meeting. I know, 'how could you possibly have access to our books' is what you're thinking, right? I'll let you take that up with the man who gave up your info. He's currently employed with your organization." 

The dealer glanced over his shoulder as his men all looked at one another, a new distrust suddenly formed between each of them. The grin on his face disappeared. 

"In any case, what we found was pretty par for the course, but I had to see it for myself before just outright accusing you, you know? You acquire your vast wealth by pulling this fake money stunt on the smaller, less known businesses. Now, none of them order the amount of stock I did, of course, but you seem to thrive on getting them to agree to more than they can truly afford by showing them quality weaponry before you claim they're trying to deceive you with, how did you put, fraudulent money?" 

The dealer remained silent. 

"Since you employ more men and, obviously, you have the better weapons, they have no choice but to submit to your demands or face death and lose everything anyway. You take the money, which was real the whole time of course, [i]and[/i] you force them into working for your organization, growing your numbers and your finances at the same time. Good enough to work on the smaller guys, I suppose." 

The dealer folded his arms. "I'm glad you understand that you owe us. Now, considering we're the biggest suppliers of your particular product at the moment, even if what ya say is true, you can't do a anything about it. We're pretty evenly matched right now, but if ya take us out, you gotta know what that'll do to your own business. So," the dealer pulled a rolled sheet of paper from his inner jacket and unrolled it on the top of the crate in front of Melvin. Melvin zeroed in on the signature line at the bottom at the page. "Why don't you go ahead and just sign this contract right here. We'll give you a small, but fair, cut of the profits as you conduct deals like this for us. Since you don't really a choice, whaddya say?" 

Melvin continued to stare into the eyes of the dealer even as his smirk broke into an open-toothed smile. The dealer reciprocated the expression. Each man's group behind him stayed in their places, the tension even thicker in the air than it was before. Sheiara did nothing. After a moment of silence, Melvin finally took a look back at his men, then to Sheiara, then to the dealer. "Okay," he said, beginning to take steps back, "I say... Go for it." 

Sheiara immediately stamped her foot, the force and vibration instantly travelling up her leg in reaction to the hard stomp to the floor. Following just as quickly, the ground began to shake. The phenomenon went from subtle to violent earthquake much faster than anything that would naturally occur. The dealer and his men, along with Melvin and his subordinates all went down, unable to compete with the increasingly furious quaking. When the last of the dealer's men fell to the floor, the quaking stopped abruptly and Sheiara quickly moved around the crate and approached the dealer. The surprised man had little time to react as the woman leaned in, bending down just a little and looked him straight in the eye. "We'll politely decline your offer," she plainly stated. What followed after was the kind of violence one hopes to never actually be witness to. 

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The city sped by in the window. Sheiara and Melvin sat in the back of a large SUV, the woman staring at the scenery going by and the man texting on his phone. Melvin didn't look up before he spoke. "You're still as ruthless as ever." 

Sheiara continued to gaze out the window. "I told you I did not like him. And he tried to swindle us. Those kinds of actions only result in the proper reactions taking place." 

Melvin chuckled. "Proper reactions, huh? If a bunch badly injured and mutilated humans are proper, I don't know what to think of this world anymore." 

"From what I've heard, the Prae will do far worse to their prisoners. Mutilated they may be, but they should thank their respective gods for their lives." 

"More like they should be thanking me. I did tell you not to kill anyone this time, after all." 

"Your proposition merely made sense to me. If we're to achieve the kind of repute that brings more trustworthy business our way, I need to hold back the savagery on occasion. I understand how that could be perceived by those on the outside looking in. I am sensible, Melvin, you know." 

"No one would argue that. They would just wonder if you're batshit crazy under that eloquent exterior, waiting to tear faces off and eat them and shit." Melvin broke into a soft laughter and, though she tried to hold it in, Sheiara found herself joining her partner. The fleet of black SUVs continued to roll in formation through the city, trunks filled with product and clientele awaiting purchase and delivery of said product. As the others rolled on, however, Sheiara and Melvin's vehicle stopped on the curb of the darkened street. "It's early as hell in the morning, you really gonna go to a bar right now?" Melvin asked. 

Sheiara opened her side and walked around back to the sidewalk and right up to the window which Melvin had already rolled down. "I told you you wouldn't see me for a while after this final transaction. I still have something I need to do in this city and you're going to leave in preparation of expansion. The Prae don't frighten me in the slightest. I'll be fine." 

Melvin sighed, but ended up grinning. "Yeah, I know. Hopefully whatever you have to do doesn't take too long. The guys are gonna get soft if the head of security isn't around to keep them in shape. Finish your business and get outta here as soon as possible. I get that you aren't afraid of the Prae, but there's not telling what this oppression is gonna turn into. Besides that, I hear rumblings of some kind of rebellion and you know those never end well. Just... Be careful, Sheiara. This city is full of all kinds of characters. Who the hell knows what kind of people you'll run into?" 

Sheiara looked at the ground briefly before looking back up with a genuine smile. "Don't worry, Mel," she said as she turned and began to walk towards the bar they had stopped in front of, "they also don't know who they are about to run into as well." She disappeared through the front doors and Melvin stared a second before rolling up his window and motioning the driver to continue onward. He had known this day was coming for a while, though he had to admit to himself that he never though he would end up missing the woman. He suddenly wished he had offered to have one last drink with her before leaving, especially considering the fame of the bar itself. 

One Night In Hell was an iconic sort of name, after all.