Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20190205035159/@comment-25582638-20190206090628

With another night bathed in red, with another batch of souls damned to the depths of the hell, the contract ended with an opened, metal briefcase sliding before the masked man. Rows of Liens were stacked neatly on top of each other, and the familiar rustling of money one against the other sounded like whispers of damnation. Behind the jewelry stage, and crowding the table were the playwrights of the twisted play he'd danced upon. Booming laughter echoed in the night air, eyes flickering with cruel triumph. His playwrights then rejoiced with a toast and boasted their grand plans for the future.

Wearing a black leather glove, Wynston randomly selected a bundle of blood money and picked it up. He bothered not to listen to their words that he'd heard over and over again like broken record, and instead inspected the integrity of the liens through the lenses of his mask. It only took 10 seconds before he tossed it back to the heap of money and slammed it close. It was genuine; thus, there was no reason for him to stick around the playwrights who might soon be promoted to actors and actresses of another play.

"Well look who's hear, the Crimson Snake.~" A female voice resounded suddenly behind him, her sweet yet toxic tone piercing his ears. The masked man stiffened and pivoted, catching sight of the hooded woman pocketing a white, crisp check inside her black coat. Her mouth was covered and face obscured, but the bold flashing of her face for a split second, the confident and predatory glint of her only lilac eye at him was all he needed to recognize her.

"Good evening, mademoiselle." *came the smooth, instinctive response from the king cobra faunus. Wynston raised his hand over his left chest and bowed slightly to the woman in coat- his distant cousin. His brows creased, and he swallowed his saliva.

What is she doing here?!

"Oh, don't be such a stiff.~" Hilda chuckled, walking towards him, and gazed at the briefcase in his hand. "Why don't we celebrate, hm?~ It's been awhile since we last talked."

"You're not supposed to be here." Wynston whispered urgently to her, sweat trickling down his face behind the mask. "You're not even wearing your mask. Does she knows about this?"

Brunhilde huffed, crossing her arms. "I go wherever I want, Snake. And besides, papa can't come here anymore, and mother had always wanted to throw away these things."

She gestured to her left, revealing rows of collection of precious gems and jewelries displayed behind a large glass. Surrounding the goods were men and women in tactical gears resembling a SWAT uniform. Wynston squinted his eyes at them as he allowed his cousin to guide him to the spot.

"And~ darling gave me this.~"

Hilda picked up a polished, wooden box and opened it. Inside was a large, overly fancy necklace. Red and black gemstones set in gold coloured metal with tribal designs.

"... She stole it?" Wynston asked, eyes widening slightly as he inspected the jewelry. That girl wasn't into stealing, if he remembered correctly... Trying out a new profession?

"Stole it from a thief who had given it as a gift to her fish friend."

"That's... complicated."

It appeared that there's more to the story of this jewelry, he mused idly while he gave way to a group of interested customers beginning to crowd the space. On the other hand, the raven-haired woman in coat retreated, allowing her subordinates to handle their customers.

However, he forgot to check where he was going as he took a few steps back, and bumped accidentally to a white-haired man wearing a patchwork tie behind him.

"Ah, my apologies, sir. I wasn't looking." said Wynston, turning to face the man whom he hoped doesn't wield the ire of the raging bull...

He looked familiar.