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[color=silver]Fruitcake, or Jakey as his mother liked to call him, was not a good person. Nor was he known by this nickname for his sweet disposition. He was someone that you would cross the street to avoid or whom you would immediately swipe left to when he popped up on your dating app. He was one of those guys who despite only being 22, knew with 100% certainty that he was absolutely & always correct about everything. And despite only working for the guy for a few weeks, was already fed up with Leif's dumbass rules. Where was the fun in owning a nightclub if you couldn't even hit on the clientele? It wasn't his fault that they liked to play hard to get. So after one too many beers, Fruitcake had made his way to the Jade Jaguar, home of what were undeniably the hottest chicks in the city. Strolling through the doors, he didn't bother to wait for Smokey, who was chain smoking what must've been his 80th roll up of the day.  

[color=white]"Try not to be an asshole Fruitcake."[/color] The older man grunted over his shoulder as he exhaled a slow puff of tar & nicotine. Leif had told him to keep an eye on the younger thief, who had only been taken on because of his ability to get through [i]any[/i] window, no matter how high or secure. It was his one redeemable trait. The rest of him being rotten to the core. 

[color=white]"Only if you stop being a pussy!"[/color] Fruitcake shot back with a laugh. After he had loaded himself up with another drink, he took a seat in one of the JJs plush chairs, giving him a prime view of the ass & tits on show. He was already fairly buzzed and after a few minutes in this manner, he began to tire of the piss poor dancing. [color=white]"Oi! Over here!"[/color] He yelled to one of the dancers, who had been making her way from one patron to the next. She paused, clearly hesitant to approach the brusque man but eventually made her way over, shooting him a small smile. [color=white]"How can I help you?"[/color]

[color=white]"You can sit yourself down right here is what you can do."[/color] He grumbled, pointing to his lap. Fruitcake was already annoyed that he had seemingly been ignored since he'd arrived in this dive. When she stayed put, blabbing on about how it was against JJ policy for them to make physical contact with the patrons, his brow furrowed in irritation. [color=white]"Now bitch."[/color] He snapped as he grabbed her waist, pulling her down onto his lap, his grip tight about her. 

After a few moments, luckily or perhaps unluckily depending on the view, a hand raked roughly through his hair and not one belonging to the young woman struggling in his grasp. The hand viciously yanked the young man’s head back, holding at a strange angle to add extra discomfort as the goddess of many names glared down at this pathetic weasel of a mortal that dared to physically touch and insult one of their dancers. She gave another harsh pull, praying that he lost some hair with the grip she held as she was done, utterly done with the bullshit of others today. She had been nothing but angry and protective all day and apparently, no one in this universe was going to let her rest so why should she try to hold back? Why be nice when it wasn’t working out for her? 

Hath had left the hospital disappointed, Ares not rising to the bait and also without listening to her words about how his brat had treated Tlaz. She should have let the morphine wear off first but she had to be nice. Sekh had the right idea but she thought a [i]warning[/i] would be fair, clearly not since she had a feeling that child was too much like her father. She had tried to call Tlaz to tell her that she had seen Ares and also give some of the details on the Isa situation but just like the rest of her luck that day, her phone was dead. That meant going back to JJ and hoping that the goddess of sin was still around or at least if not, it would be a distraction from self destruction. 

Instead, she was greeted with this fucking pig in her grasp and he was about to received a world of punishment if he didn’t nicely comply and get the fuck out of here because she was almost done with playing nice by providing warnings. A slow smile slipped onto her lips, one that clearly did not reach her eyes as she spoke in a deadly cold tone, [color=DC143C]”You get two options, so listen carefully as I will not repeat myself. First option, you have three seconds to remove your hand, get up, and walk out of this club without causing an incident. Option two, which I would just [i]love[/i] for you to try…you ignore my generous request and I break your hand, yank you up, maybe get a few hits in while you struggle, and drag you out by your hair to dispose of the garbage since you are pretty much nothing but filth that I wish not to have in my presence. Now, which will it be?”[/color]

Fruitcake was also an idiot. At Hath’s words the mortal, despite the extremely uncomfortable position he had been placed in, let out a bitter laugh before spitting violently in her direction. [color=white]"I'm not going to have some floozie tell me what to do."[/color] He grunted, pain flooding through his head and neck. [color=white]"I pay for this shit."[/color] He indicated towards the still struggling dancer, who was already far past the verge of tears. 

Smokey, who had finally entered the premises, stopped in his tracks when he saw the shit show in front of him. [color=white]"Oh for fucks sake..."[/color] He grumbled as he pulled out his phone, quickly pulling up Leif's number. Why was he always stuck with babysitting the crazy ones? He seriously needed to retire. Still muttering under his breath, the thief quickly typed a message as he side eyed the tussle, which was increasingly drawing the attention of the other patrons & employees. 

[B]Bossman[/b]
[Quote]Fruitcakes gone off the rails. Might need you to come down to JJ. The woman looks like she'll break an arm or two so I ain't getting involved. Also can you bring me some smokes...I ran out.[/quote]

Her nose scrunched at the pathetic attempt to spit at her but it also made her decide to alter her plans ever so slightly. [color=DC143C]”Option two it is! Just remember, you were warned. Now, let’s fix that spitting problem of yours.”[/color], she said in a sickeningly sweet tone before tilting his head at a good angle before full force repeatedly punching him in the side of the jaw with her free hand and waiting for a crack to be heard. She didn’t care if it was fractured, broken, or dislocated but it would be painful, slow, and best of all…less likely to make spitting possible until healed. Hathor showed no mercy, not even giving the lad much time to recover before her hand found his fingers wrapped around the crying woman’s waist, harshly pulling them all the way back and letting them either be removed naturally out of pain or again, fine with it being a symphony of snaps. 

Hathor was slowly losing it, not even caring which option had come to be, only knowing that once the woman was released that he was instantly hauled onto his feet. [color=DC143C]”You think you can come in here!?! Harass our dancers?! Throw insults!? And then try to spit in my face….I’m giving you a lesson you are never going to forget.”[/color], she growled, punctuating each word with a fist shot to the kidneys and gut. She took hold of his hair once more, kicking out his legs, and doing exactly what she had promised. She strode through the crowd like a model on a runway, literally dragging the man behind her by his hair and kicking backwards with sharp heels when he tried to retaliate. 

Smokey could only stand there, mouth hanging wide open in shock at what he had just witnessed, his fellow thief barely being able to moan in pain as his jaw hung half loose. Sure he was accustomed to violence but...damn. Lost in thought, suddenly a hand clapped on his shoulder, prompting him to jump out of his skin. [color=white]"Fuckin' nearly shat myself you bastard."[/color] He muttered as Fenrir stopped beside him, casually tossing him a pouch of tobacco. 

[color=lightsteelblue]"Y'know you should really cut down. I'm not gonna pay for your hospital bills when you're coughing up a lung."[/color] The wolf replied pointedly. It wasn't like he'd never smoked himself but Smokey was known for being able to pick anyone's pocket...whilst holding & taking drags from a lit cigarette in his other hand. Fenrir had nearly died from laughter when he'd almost set a target's coat on fire one time.

[color=white]"But what would you call me then?"[/color] Smokey frowned, seeming genuinely confused by this quandary. No-one even knew his real name by this point, it had been so long. 

[color=lightsteelblue]"Oh I don't know. How about...'doesn't stink like my grandma's one hundred year old ashtray.'"[/color] Fenrir smirked. The thief let out a loud laugh at this, followed by an extremely unhealthy sounding bout of coughing. Fenrir clapped him on the back, shaking his head. [color=lightsteelblue]"See, you sound like shit. Anyway, where is the bastard?"[/color]

All Smokey could manage was to point in the direction that Fruitcake had been furiously dragged, a series of bewildered mortals being the only indicators that anything had even happened. Oh and the huge ass puddle of blood on the floor. Stepping over said puddle, Fenrir made his way to the back of the building, wondering who had the balls to beat the shit out of Fruitcake. Not that he disapproved. The guy had it coming and the wolf had almost instantly regretted taking him on board. His tread, as always, was silent as he pushed open the door, nose wrinkling at the overwhelming smell of garbage. Though his senses were nowhere near what they once, it didn't mean he wasn't sensitive to some things. Sharp blue eyes locked onto the two figures nearby, one of which was little more than a crumpled mess on the floor, and cleared his throat to let them know of his presence. 

Hathor’s attention instantly snapped to the person that dared to interrupt her, eyeing him up and down with a raised brow before crossing her arms. He definitely was handsome but right now, a pretty face wasn’t really going to stop her from snapping at someone who was stopping a good time. [color=DC143C]”Do you mind?! I’m currently taking out the trash and placing it where it belongs. Why don’t you find your way back inside or better yet, keep walking pal because there is nothing to see here?!”[/color], she sassed angrily, tapping her foot on the ground. She dealt with more than one asshole today and if another wanted to take a crack at it, then that was no skin off her back. 

[color=lightsteelblue]"Oh he's mine."[/color] He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, having to try very hard to stop the smile that dared to creep onto his face. Her unwillingness to tolerate any bullshit was admittedly both amusing and attractive. [color=lightsteelblue]"Well not [i]mine[/i]. The little shit just works for me."[/color] Cautiously, he took a step closer, not desiring to be on the receiving end of her wrath. As he closed the gap between them, he held a hand out towards her. [color=lightsteelblue]"Names Leif. And I can only apologize for Fruitcake here. He's a couple of quarters short of a roll..."[/color] This prompted a weak groan from the mess of limbs on the ground. [color=lightsteelblue]"Shut up Fruitcake. You'll lose more blood that way."[/color] Fenrir shook his head before turning back to the woman in front of him. [color=lightsteelblue]"I'd be happy to take him off your hands. I imagine you must be very busy."[/color] 

She frowned at his statement, about ready to lay into him next as she wondered if he thought this was funny with the nonchalant attitude, that is until the insult. She glanced down at the pitiful being at her feet before watching the newcomer closely, like a predator watching its prey as he slowly took steps closer. Once the gap was closed between them, he offered her his hand and a name which Hath was still debating on whether to accept or not, though it was more tempting with the apology. Hathor didn’t know what he meant at that last comment but she found her hand taking his own but instead of shaking, she yanked him closer and curled her free hand on his collar to pull him in, wanting to make sure she had his full attention. [color=DC143C]”Keep your dogs on a tighter leash or you and I are going to have problems. Got it?”[/color], Hathor said barely above a whisper before letting go of him and brushing off the imaginary lint from her dress. [color=DC143C]”Deal with the mess if you must, Leif. I have a bar to tend to and now a few drinks to nurse.”[/color], she sighed, moving to stride past him. 

Fenrir held out an arm to block her way. [color=lightsteelblue]"Come on. Let me buy you one of those drinks. It's the least I can do."[/color] He was intrigued by this woman, whom he couldn't help but feel a vague familiarity towards, though he was unable to pinpoint why. [color=lightsteelblue]"I'm going to be getting rid of this particular [i]dog[/i] anyway."[/color] The wolf couldn't help but linger bitterly on the word dog. It was something he associated with nothing but restraints and control. Fruitcake, somehow, managed to mutter a few words about not having been paid, which prompted a bark of a laugh from the norse god. [color=lightsteelblue]"Ah but that's the beauty of it. You're no longer my employee, therefore I don't have to pay you."[/color] Fenrir shot in the man's direction, sharp blue eyes still focused on the woman. 

[color=lightsteelblue]"You know, it's normal practice for the other person to [i]also[/i] give their name."[/color] He added, waiting patiently for her answer. 

To say she was startled was an understatement. Hathor had given him absolutely no reason to want to stay in her company, content on trying to drive him away and end the unpleasant situation and yet even after a practically rejected apology on behalf of his employee, he was offering his time. Who on earth was this mortal? She was about to brush past him, ignore and disregard when his words caused her to pause and stare back into sharp blue eyes. Damn it all, why did they have to be blue? She has always been a sucker for blue eyes, no doubt a flaw in her creation. She didn’t take her eyes off his own, nor did he from hers as he spoke to the sniveling worm of a mortal that impressively enough had still managed words but only seemed to fuel an instant and prompt firing which had been promised moments earlier. 

Leif should have been angry or at least upset by her rude attitude but instead, here he was, in a dingy disgusting alleyway, being patient and showing that he was on her side when many might say she took the situation too far even though [i]Fruitcake[/i] had been in the wrong. In this moment, she decided to take a good look at him, really look at him instead of just labeling him as a pretty face. She felt like this man was familiar, nagging at her brain but she didn’t know how or why. It was strange because she had a feeling that if they had met, she wouldn’t have been able to forget the intense feeling his gaze held or a personality such as his. She had honestly hoped he hadn’t noticed her lack of name in return but it seems as usual for today, she was out of luck. [color=DC143C]”Where’s the fun in being normal?[/color], she questioned with a playful smirk, ducking under his arm before turning to walk backwards towards the door so she could continue to look upon him. [color=DC143C]”Perhaps after that drink, I might be inclined to return a name to you.”[/color] 

Fenrir followed, leaving the thief in a crumpled heap, his ability to speak finally having waned. Smokey would help him to hospital and then any & all communication would cease. The man was already out of his mind as he chuckled at the woman's words. [color=lightsteelblue]"As you wish."[/color] He smiled wolfishly as they made their way back through the door.  His eyes flitted to the dancers but he wasn't really watching, more taking note. It was a habit one developed after decades of thievery. The first rule of casing a joint; make sure you know it as well as the back of your hand. But he wasn't here for work so he let himself relax, nimbly moving to the side to let a waitress carrying a platter of drinks pass by. 

As they approached the bar the god took a seat, resting his folded arms against the sparkling surface. [color=lightsteelblue]"So here's what I have so far...you work in this fine establishment. You don't tolerate bullshit. And you're extremely cautious."[/color] Fenrir observed bluntly, though there was no judgement in his tone. It simply [i]was[/i]. A list of facts…or at least what he presumed were likely to be facts. [color=lightsteelblue]"Oh, and I'll have whatever you're having."[/color] He added as an afterthought, pushing his card towards her.

[color=DC143C]”Oh? Is that so?”[/color], she questioned, her tone playful and light as she slid her fingers across the bar, slowly snatching the card pushed in her direction and giving it a twist to see both sides. Of course he had to be competition, the name Nightingale familiar but one she had never ventured a journey in. It was surprising that one of his [i]ex[/i]-employees would choose to come here instead of just going to the other establishment. She wasn’t one to look into those things though, it just hinted that maybe there was more going on just like the Jade Jaguar but what, she wasn’t completely sure. Normally, she would have just slid around the bar and started on their drinks but instead she decided to keep it simple. No need to lay out all of your cards, especially if someone wanted to know them. 

The current bartender strolled over, not even having time to ask before Hathor spoke up without moving her gaze from her new companion. [color=DC143C]”Two shots of tequila and keep ‘em comin’[/color], she said before leaning against the bar. [color=DC143C]”So here’s what I have so far…you are overly observant. You are blunt and straightforward with your words. You are nimble but I’m not sure if that is due to skill or just a natural ability. Oh…and you are terrible at nicknames or I’m going to pray that no parent would willingly name their child fruitcake. How am I doing so far?”[/color], she asked with a sly grin, taking the newly deposited shot and tossing it back in one easy motion. 

[color=lightsteelblue]"You think [i]I[/i] named him Fruitcake? I try to call them by their real names but they hate it."[/color] Fenrir shrugged; it was true. Superstitious shits. They'd also refuse to walk over cracks in the sidewalk and have to drink exactly one & a half shots of vodka before going on a job. It wasn't his place to tell them otherwise however. [color=lightsteelblue]"But you're doing okay. I'll give you like a...7/10. I'd hire you."[/color] He grinned as if this entire scenario were some grand and ridiculous job interview. Taking a hold of his tequila shot after the barman had returned, he held it up to his companion before downing it smoothly. 

[color=lightsteelblue]"Are you sure we haven't met before? You're annoyingly familiar."[/color] He looked at her appraisingly as he leant back in his chair. Fenrir didn't mean to be so, well...nosey but he was prone to curiosity and she was being so stubborn that it was intriguing. The aztec goddess who owned this establishment clearly hired both mortals and gods bu-... He abruptly clicked the fingers of one hand in a sudden burst of excitement. [color=lightsteelblue]"That's it! Damn I'm slow today."[/color] The wolf crossed his arms across his chest, a satisfied look spreading across his features. He knew she was of the egyptian pantheon but he couldn't quite remember her name. Sure he could just text Tlaz but that was far too easy. 

She chuckled, taking another shot in her hand and holding it up back at him in a mini toast before tossing it back. [color=DC143C]”Good to know I have a backup offer should I need it.”[/color], she teased, about ready for the next shot but pausing at his question. Hath raised a brow, trying to think of where she had seen him before because he had seemed vaguely familiar but it came up blank. [color=DC143C]”Only annoyingly? I must be losing my touch. I agree you seem familiar but I’m not sure we have met. Perhaps we have seen each other in passing.”[/color], she suggested with a light shrug. It wasn’t something she was all too concerned about since a lot of faces passed her way when she was behind the bar, dancing, or the odd times she worked in Illicit. However, he did tempt her curiosity with the sudden burst of excitement, his words queuing in that he had figured something out. If she hadn’t been positive before then the cat eating a canary look definitely confirmed it. She should have been more curious about what she was forgetting but for a moment, his satisfied appearance was rather distracting. Thank goodness Tlaz wasn’t here or she would be meddling and also ecstatic that she was having drinks with a man. It wasn’t something she typically indulged in unless it was among friends. [color=DC143C]”Care to share your epiphany or am I being left mysteriously in the dark?”[/color]

[color=lightsteelblue]"I don't know..."[/color] He smiled light-heartedly, eyes scanning over the face of the goddess, which he had to admit was outstandingly beautiful. [color=lightsteelblue]"I might be persuaded if I knew your name first."[/color] His words were searching and he knew that she was just as likely to get annoyed by him, as give him any answers. This didn't however stop Fenrir from raising a playful eyebrow at her. Pausing, his eyes strayed to the barman who had come closer to the pair again. [color=lightsteelblue]"Do you have a pen?"[/color] He asked, patiently waiting as the mortal nodded & passed him one.

The next tequila shot went down as easily as the first, and afterwards Fenrir grabbed a nearby beer mat. Turning it over he began to scribble on its surface, using his free hand to hide whatever he was doing from his companion. [color=lightsteelblue]"I'll give you a clue."[/color] He said as he continued drawing, finally pushing a very crude image of an hourglass in front of her. It was admittedly, a frustratingly vague clue, and more a bitter nod to the vulnerable nature of these new lives they led.

A sly smile played on her lips and she sipped her drink, not planning on answering him but intrigued that he wanted to know her name so badly. The last mortal she had let close had turned out to be a god and now was gone. She wasn’t sure getting attached to another mortal that would ultimately lead to just a friendship or break up when it got serious instead of just for fun was a good idea though he was making it awfully tempting. His personality kept her on her toes and helped her forget her worries of the day while his appearance was just an overall bonus, one that she very much appreciated but she could get used to being around this man. Hathor arched a brow as he asked for a pen and proceeded to draw a simple hourglass which gave her absolutely no clue what he could have meant. Was he trying to just say they had met sometime? Because that was a bit too obvious so it had to be something else. 

If he wanted to play a game though, she was more than happy to oblige. She slid off the barstool, moving to stand between his legs as she ran her hand over his shoulder, down his arm, up his hand, and stopping at the tip of the pen before plucking it gently from his fingers. She pulled his hand close to her, softly uncurling his fingers before doing the same trick he had earlier to block the view of what she was writing on the palm of his hand and curling his hand back into a fist when she was done. Hath kept his fist in her hands for a moment, placing a chaste kiss to his knuckles before glancing into his eyes as she spoke, [color=DC143C]”Until we meet again.”[/color] With that being said, Hathor made her way out of the bar, looking confident in her strides though she was feeling anything but that as she found herself once more in the back of a taxi that evening. 
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