[center][h3][color=007236][b]Prudence Stolz[/b][/color][/h3] [b]The Red Sail — Evening[/b] [/center] The sun began to set, and the fading light chased the workers away from the docks and into the warm embrace of the Red Sail. Prudence always enjoyed the evening rush because it meant drunken chatter and music performances, which drowned out the noises from the performances behind closed doors. It was another story during the day when the Madame didn’t pay for performers and the bar was mostly empty. Then Prudence was stuck listening to boots knocking and girls overselling. She thought she’d get used to it after two years, but cries of alleged ecstasy still made her giggle like a child—it didn’t help that some of the girls repeated the same outbursts from client to client like they were reading the script of some bawdy play. She could hardly make eye contact with the johns as they left because it was difficult not to burst out laughing at their big smiles and inflated egos. Fontaine once told her that most of their clients didn’t pay to get their rocks off; they paid to have someone give them attention. If Fontaine said so, then it must be true. Usual nights Prudence would be posted at the stairs up to make sure that the only people going up were accompanied by one of Fontaine’s girls, but tonight was a different night and Garzo had the stairs. She wasn’t going to be in the Red Sail at all once the big guy took his post. It was a shame too, because the fiddle player could really work that bow. However, Prudence had heard a rumor about some going-ons out in the Slums that might be bad for business. It wasn’t something the Madame needed to be bothered with—she was cooking up something and was out for the night, although Prudence didn’t know what—but it did need to get handled. Prudence scanned the crowd to make sure there were no faces there that shouldn't be than pushed her way to the bar. Garzo was late. Maybe the tender had heard something. Selena was working the tap. She was a sweet lass with blonde hair and a low cut blouse that really left little to the imagination. The girl was pretty enough that it confused Prudence as to why she only ever poured drinks and talked shit, or at least it confused her until Selena showed her that rash. Selena told her it was benign. Prudence didn’t know what benign meant, but she assumed it meant fucking disgusting. She had seen bloated corpses in better condition. After it had appeared nobody wanted to buy her, but Fontaine kept her on largely out of pity—plus she could pay her less than other bartenders. Crafty. [b]“Thought you were off tonight, love,”[/b] said Selena as she filled a mug for a client, making certain to lean over and give him the full display. Fontaine may have paid her less, but she made up for it with tips. [color=007236][b]“You know I ain’t never off,”[/b][/color] said Prudence, brushing a strand of red hair out of her face. Her voice sounded strained as always, like she was recovering from a sore throat. More likely it was just damaged from yelling. [b][color=007236]“But I am going out. Just waiting for Garzo to watch the stairs. You know where that good-for-nothing got off to? I swear I saw him earlier.”[/color][/b] [b]“Is that really a question?”[/b] asked Selena, glancing upstairs. [b][color=007236]“I’m gonna kill that stupid goatfu—”[/color][/b] Prudence screwed up her face. Fontaine once said that swearing made people look unintelligent. She swallowed her rage. [color=007236][b]“With Priscilla? Again?”[/b][/color] [b]“He gives that girl nearly his entire salary,”[/b] said Selena with a smirk. [b]"Thinks they're in love. Poor lad."[/b] [color=007236][b]“Stupid lad,”[/b][/color] said Prudence as she cracked her knuckles and turned towards the stairs. [b][color=007236]“Stupid indeed,”[/color][/b] said Selena as Prudence walked away. The bartender had seen that look before. It usually meant unpleasantness. Prudence made her way to Priscilla’s room. Garzo was a good boy, maybe twenty at best, a big of an ox and with a face like he had been trampled by one. He wasn’t very smart, but he knew how to stand in a spot and look tough. At least Prudence thought he knew how to do his job, but this was the third time this month that he had missed part of his shift because he was being entertained by Priscilla. Prudence could forgive it once. She warned him after twice. And now he had done it a third. Again, he wasn’t very smart. As for Priscilla, well, she and Prudence never quite saw eye to eye. The girl always acted all high and mighty, and if it wasn’t for Fontaine then Prudence would’ve made Selena and her weird rash a more enticing choice for a companion than Priscilla. She rapped her knuckles on the door. [b]“Occupied,”[/b] said Priscilla. [color=007236][b]“It’s Prudence.”[/b][/color] [b]“And yet despite that fact, it's still occupied!”[/b] called back Priscilla in that sing-song voice of hers. Prudence fumed. She promised Fontaine to protect the girls, especially when the Madame was away, but Prudence hoped for a day when she heard violence from Priscilla’s door. She’d take her sweet time opening the door that day. However, all she heard today was the stifled laugh of a deep bass and the annoying titter of a little twat. She tried the knob. Locked, of course, but she had the key. However, the little click of the latch wouldn’t quite send the message she was trying to communicate. A vicious grin appeared on her face as she took one big step back then— [i][b]Boom![/b] [/i] —Prudence kicked open the door and snapped the latch, the hinges barely keeping on as it slammed against the wall. Priscilla screamed and went to cover herself while Garzo, naked as the day he was born, was ripped from the bed and slammed up against the wall. Being six foot two he had a few inches on Prudence, not to mention many, many more pounds, but she was strong, she was angry, and she had a dagger on her belt within inches of Garzo’s favorite prized possession. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as she continued to pin him to the wall, bringing him down to eye level so her green eyes could cut through him. She wasn't really mad at Garzo—it was hard to hate an idiot—but being firm worked best with him. [color=007236][b]“Get your clothes on, go down stairs, and stay there for the rest of the night. You can see her after your shift. If I ever hear of you taking that thing out again when you’re on Madame Fontaine’s clock, I'll give it to her with your resignation. Do you understand?” [/b][/color]she said, seething. Garzo nodded and grabbed his slacks. He was a good boy, and maybe he wasn’t so stupid after all. Now there was just Priscilla to deal with. Technically, she had done no wrong by taking a paying client, but Prudence knew that she was letting the lad believe that there was something more romantic than a money transaction going on between the two. It was a fine technique to use on other clients, but not one of their own. Tended to make things complicated later on. Garzo was the replacement for the last guy who had fallen in love with a whore. He had tried dueling a client for his woman's honor. Prudence had to drag his body out of the street. It made her wish she had shot him herself. [b]“You broke my door!”[/b] whined Priscilla, a sheet wrapped around her. Prudence could see why Garzo was so infatuated with her between her raven hair and her pale skin. She was a notch above the other girls. In looks, that is. Looks aren't everything in bed. [b]“I can’t work without privacy. I, I can’t! It’s not fair!”[/b] [color=007236][b]“I broke Madame Fontaine’s door!”[/b][/color] barked Prudence. She’d be docked that pay, but it was worth it to see the look of terror on Priscilla’s face. [color=007236][b]“You don’t own the door. You don’t own this room. You don’t even own your body. And that sheet too. You don’t own that either. You’re property. You’re a chair. You’re an annoying little chair with one leg shorter than the other so it wobbles when you sit. So be a chair, and shut up.”[/b][/color] [b]“I, I, I...I’ll tell Fontaine! I’ll tell her you tried to hurt me!”[/b] [b][color=007236]“Then [i]Madame[/i] Fontaine will know that you’re lying,”[/color][/b] said Prudence, taking a step towards Priscilla, [b][color=007236]“because I would not have just [i]tried[/i] to hurt you. We can get other girls. You can’t get another face. So no. You won’t say a word.” [/color][/b] [b]“But!”[/b] [b][color=007236]“Is a word. You’re done now. Go downstairs. Work the bar with Selena and we’ll have no more of this. Got it?”[/color][/b] Priscilla nodded. [b][color=007236]“What, you’re a mute now? I asked you if you got it. Got it?”[/color][/b] [b]“Got it, Pru—”[/b] [b][color=007236]“I told you to shut your mouth. Go on now, get out of here before I shut it for you,” [/color][/b]snapped Prudence. Priscilla practically sprinted out of the room, still wearing just a sheet. Prudence stared out the door for a moment and then laughed, a hand going up to her mouth to cover a smile. She was probably going to get in a heap of trouble for that, but it was definitely worth it. She stepped out of the room and looked over the banister. Selena was scolding Priscilla behind the bar, and Garzo was standing at the bottom of the stairs where he should’ve been ten minutes ago. Everything would be in order for Madame Fontaine when she returned, which meant Prudence was fine to leave. It was a good thing, too. That little incident had gotten her blood boiling, and she was just itching to hurt someone. This rumor better have checked out.