"She didn't need to be saved. She needed to be found and appreciated,
for exactly who she was." — J. Iron Word
Location: Six Feet Under
Interaction: Circe, Kaz, Honey (NPC)
Mention: None
Tagged: @ & @
Afanasiia shouldered complaint far more than she would've liked to. Most of the time, her clients were sober and respectful to her ladies, but when a situation turned to blasphemy, she was generally the one dealing with it. The security details were strong, but if she felt she could knock the problem out quicker, she kept them away to get the job done with her own hands. Six Feet Under was a lucrative brothel, decked out with flashing strobe lights, laughter, expensive drinks, and a comfortable, yet exotic atmosphere. She flicked the ashes of her cigarette into the ash tray nearby and squished the ends into the carved porcelain and sighed. It was a typical night; parties and drugs, alcohol and sex blanketed the aroma of the atmosphere.
A planner filled with appointments and crinkled paper, some of the edges stained pink from tequila, rested on the top of her desk. She sniffed, flipping through the large stack for a man's name. He stood in front of her, tall, but not intimidating. Why was his last name Zurich? She hummed a little, flipping through five more pages of names, dusty and in need of a transfer.
"Alexander Zurich? Back. You know the rules. Girl's name is Honey. Have fun." Her voice sounded expressionless, but a slight uplifting tone made her appear somewhat friendly. She sank down in her chair, kicking her legs up on the hinges of the glass table underneath. A reoccurring client, Timothy, entered and she gestured towards the door as a seal of approval.
Afanasiia wearily eyed the fake, but realistically appealing tiger lily flowers precariously poised in the vase near the edge of the wall. Her mind wandered for a moment, tongue subconsciously swiping over her lips; the taste was a reminder of life and how things were. She glanced over at the little kitten in corner, all cross legged in her skimpy black dress and strappy black heels. Circe. Ex-Vanguard, but valuable to Kaz. Afanasiia eyed her leg poking out of the side slit for a moment before turning back to her work. It amazed her how Circe (or Kitty, as Kaz nicknamed her) could wear such a thing in cold weather.
One by one, the line outside her door cut down. Afanasiia immediately sat up when she caught a glimpse of familiar brown hair. It was Kaz. She'd forgotten he was coming to the brothel for routine inspection.
"Circe, stand up," she told her. It wasn't harsh, but it probably wasn't considered kind either. It was simply a command. Afanasiia pat down her jacket and jeans to make sure she had all weapons on her. Her gun holster fit snugly around her frame and her pocket knife rested against the left side of her hip. It was an extra measure taken for the girls in the brothel; Some of the men that came to Six Feet Under turned out to be nothing but wild dogs. Force had to be exerted sometimes, respect for women or not.
Afanasiia watched as the people outside the door began to grunt and protest. They were fools who didn't know the meaning of true power.
"Get out of the way, men! Let him through," she commanded, watching as Kaz entered the minimalist styled room with small pink neon bars wrapped around the edges of the ceiling and a simple, yet spacious room. She clasped her hands together in front of her and gave the boss a smile.
"Ready?" Suddenly, there was a loud commotion nearby. One of the girls were crying and screaming; She knew that voice from anywhere.
Honey. Instinct kicked in her as she rushed out the door.
The crowd's panic and fear played off Afanasiia like an orchestrated event. Honey came out of the room being dragged by her hair. Her face was covered in bruises and blood dripped from her nose.
"Leave me alone!" she screeched and the man holding her was none other than the person she'd accepted in earlier. Shit. Afanasiia pulled out the gun she kept concealed under her tan jacket and pulled the trigger. The bullet shot straight through the man's skull. He fell down dead and she rushed to Honey.
"Shit, shit, shit. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered in her ear, rocking the child back and forth for a brief moment.
"Get medical assistance!" she snapped to a girl entering the scene and helping Honey up.
"Go with Lilah." She ushered all five girls out of the room they'd been in. Four men stood in there, cold-hearted grins on their faces. They attacked with such ferocity, Afanasiia had to be quick on her feet. Her blood pressure rose as she dodged a punch from one man, then delivered a sweeping kick to another. Her foot slammed against the back of his knee and he fell off balance. The guy struggled to stand up, but managed to get on his feet and Afanasiia swung a punch at his lower jaw. She was too busy focusing on him to notice that two other guys were heading towards Circe and one towards Kaz.
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✓✔✕ ✖㊚㊛ *.:｡ ✿*ﾟ'ﾟ･ ⊙¤㊣★☆
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♔ ♕ ♖ ♗ ♘ ♙ ♚ ♛ ♜ ♝ ♞ ♟ ♠ ♡ ♢ ♣ ♤ ♥ ♦ ♧ ♨ ♰ ♱ ☫ ª ↀ ↁ ↂ Ↄ ➟ ➡ ➢ ➣ ➤ ➥ ➦ ➧ ➨ ➚ ➘ ➙ ➛ ➜ ➝ ➞ ➸ 
The Egyptian Goddess twirled her fingers around her dark brown hair and sighed, letting go. She gave her brother a weary smile. Seth had been gone for days, weeks, even months. It'd felt like an eternity since they'd last shared their bed together. She had the sheets to warm her, but none could make her feel secure like Seth did. "No, I haven't. It pains me. Sometimes, I wonder if he will come back at all." The whole situation felt hopeless. Nepthys lazily popped a grape in her mouth. Lately, she'd been feeling exhausted with all the work she had to do in Seth's stead. He'd been very adamant about letting her take over for the time being. That's how Nepthys knew Seth trusted her wholeheartedly.
