Aisling Wilde (showmeonce) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-09-23 00:00:00 |
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Revenues from the fights were up - which she had projected, even though she had been off by about four grand in their favor which would be highlighted in the end of month cash flow she’d give Cian - but they’d gotten boring. Predictable. At least to her. The patrons enjoyed them, and most of the people who signed up to fight enjoyed them, which was what really mattered, but fuck if she actually had to try to win her matches.
She was sitting out this month. It was something she was going to have to do often now; no one wanted a predictable outcome. No fun in it. No risk. And it was a safe payout for anyone who knew who to bet on. Definitely not what she’d wanted.
It wasn’t that anything in particular had changed - the same fucking crowd still participated - but that safe edge that the fights had had was gone. If you moved on, you had the potential to reach the knockouts, and too many of the current crop of participants didn’t have the fucking stomach to do it. She didn’t think anyone was throwing fights, and she doubted Ci would care so long as revenue kept rising, but it bothered her. Made her restless.
Rather than dwelling on it - she had charts to study on participant win/loss ratios at home - she headed through the familiar alleys in the docks, making her way to the Harbormaster’s office. The fucker wouldn’t be in, but that was fine; she wasn’t looking for him. She was looking for his assistant.
Two raps on the door before she opened it and strode inside. “I fucking hate weather changes.”
Loch’s hand had traveled down to her boot to retrieve fat lord when the knock came. Then the door opened and, seeing who it was, she left the knife in its holster and offered Ash a lopsided grin. “Ain’t old enough to be complaining of joint pain, Ash,” she said with a chuckle. “Trouble?”
She had spent the past hour going over the ledgers, crunching numbers and camouflaging any hints of less than legal shipments, masking them as perfectly boring cargo like sugar or textiles. Philip left the records up to her for the most part, and she had learnt how to make two and two add up to five, and have it look natural on top of that. Should Philip ever revise his attitude when it came to the records, it would take him much time and scrutiny to even detect something was off.
In any case, he was now at home with his family, being a perfectly respectable member of society. He’d extracted a promise from Loch that she’d stop by for dinner later, and left her alone at the office, which suited her fine; she’d had just about enough of his nagging that smoking so much would kill her. She wanted nothing more than to snap that she knew of a hundred more substances that could kill her just the same, and if she was going to snuff it, at least tobacco would kill her with a nice endorphin release. Of course, she’d said no such thing, and exercising such self-control had left her nerves frayed, and craving a cigarette. Now, Loch took one from her silver cigarette case and lit up as she waited for Ash to explain what was bugging her.
“Go through as many rounds in the Ring as I have and I think I have every right,” she retorted with a snort, perching herself on the nearest desk. Add into that the years spent dancing, and whenever the weather changed, she was in a world of hurt. Not that Loch didn’t know that. “But it’s only my knee this time.” Better than she had anticipated; Conti had fucked her shoulder to hell and back and she was just waiting for whatever damage he did to come back and bite her in the ass.
“Anyway,” she continued, batting away the smoke from Loch’s cigarette, “came to see if you were thinking of coming to Ring any time soon.” It was a bit of a risk - Ash hated to lose, and Loch was one of the few who could hand her ass to her in the Ring - but recouping costs was more important than her pride. Which was saying something, considering how much stock she put into her own image. But if they could get some sort of publicity going, then it might dredge up more than Aud’s match did.
Loch glanced at Ash’s knee at her words, though of course any damage there would not be visible. It seemed the injuries she’d received from Conti were still giving her trouble; Loch had heard about the incident some time later, about the abduction and the strange constructs he’d had, and to her credit, she’d kept a perfect poker face all through Ash’s story. Fuck Conti, anyway. At least he was dead now, and good riddance. The less loose ends left, the better.
She made no comment on Ash’s injured knee. Ash was a big girl; she would no doubt be taking meds for the pain, so there was hardly anything Loch could say. She took another drag from her cigarette instead, but this time she turned her head to exhale the smoke away from the other woman.
“Sure. Been a while since last time.” About a couple of months; the trouble with shipments had been driving her up the walls, but now that everything was returning to normal, there was no reason not to go back to the Ring. Loch enjoyed those fights; even if stopping at first blood was unsatisfying, it was a chance to fight without any legal repercussions. “Rules still the same, right?” Probably too much to hope for that they’d changed for the better, but it never hurt to ask.
And it definitely had been some time since Loch had gotten into the Ring. Not that Ash could blame her - if she wasn’t directly involved in it, she wasn’t certain she’d have been fighting nearly as much as she had been. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to remember how long it had been since Loch had fought; certainly not since the new rules had gone into effect.
Which reminded her.
“Nope, shit’s changed,” she replied, grinning cheekily. “Got Ci to agree to some knock outs. We’re doing it tournament style now where the championship match is to knock out.” She was still trying to figure out a way to approach Cian about doing more than one or two knock outs a month, but hadn’t quite gotten it down yet. He was adamantly against that kind of shit, but there was no denying the revenue it brought in. And they might not be hurting too badly at the moment, but the extra cash flow wouldn’t be unwelcome. She knew that much. “Introducing a team match this month, too.”
Another thing she hadn’t run by Cian in its entirety. Oh well, he’d deal.
Loch grinned back. That was a change for the better, in her books. “Sounds like I been missing out,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Bet knockouts bring in higher revenues. Ought to be good for business.” Even for those watching, knockout would make the matches more exciting. “Everyone wins. You got any promising dark horses?” Wouldn’t do to let the outcomes become too predictable; an underdog was always perfect to add a little spice to the mix.
“Not this round,” she said with a shake of her head. “Tossed Audrey in last go around, had her dress up like an Opal girl. Everyone was just flinging money against her.” It had brought in a hefty profit. Between that and the way Cian had cleaned up in the stakes, they’d made a sizable dent in their red. “Couple of standards, though. A few of them have been doing pretty well.”
So long as Ash was careful not to pit them against each other yet, they’d keep coming back. A take of the bets was a pretty damn good motivator to win, and if a better took a liking to a fighter, Ash knew well that losing no longer became an option. “Trying to bring some fresh meat in, but it seems like the entire fucking guild is on the up and up.”
Or involved with someone from the FG. How the fuck Chiaro managed to bag both FG councilors was something Ash was dying to know.
Loch mimicked gagging. “Ain’t that the fucking truth. It’s like they all set on being respectable citizens all of a sudden.” She spat out those two words like a curse. “I’ll keep an eye out too, see if I find any interesting prospects.” In the end, helping Ash worked to her advantage; there were only a couple of people in the Ring who could make Loch have to really work for the win, so if stronger people could be convinced to join, matches would get a lot more entertaining. Wouldn’t be any need for such petty tricks as making the fighters play dress-up to trick betters with a bad memory for faces, though if that had worked, those betters were stupid and deserved to lose their gil as they had.
There was one upside to not having enough participants, though. Loch tapped off ash into a small paper cup by her papers and looked at the other woman with a slow smile. “Are you gonna be in the knockouts, then?”
“Good for the guild’s image, though,” Ash replied. And it was - they’d been credited with a lot of good shit lately, and the publicity had given the theatre district a bit of a bump in revenues. No one could complain about that, but in exchange, the other side of the guild seemed to be suffering. Nobody was doing shit to keep the organized crime in check except the syndicates - as much as she was loathe to give Sasaki any credit - and who the fuck knew what was going on with the drug and smuggling scenes.
At Loch’s question, Ash grinned. “Trying not to enter all of them, but yeah. I’m participating.” With her luck, she’d get knocked good and Ci would put an end to it. He really needed to chill and stop trying to dictate every fucking thing she did. Which was an unfair accusation - he didn’t care what she did unless it was something she really wanted to fucking do. Go figure.
Loch wondered absently what Cian thought of Ash entering the knockouts, controlling bastard that he was. That Ash wanted to take a holiday and wasn’t doing it because Cian wouldn’t appreciate it just made Loch roll her eyes; she would have told Ash to just leave, and fuck what Cian thought, but it was none of her business. So instead she just grinned back and said, “Yeah, gotta leave some for the rest of us. I’m in, whenever you want me.” Might take some time, since fights were planned well in advance, but she’d missed the Ring; no way she wasn’t returning to the fights, now that the rules had got a lot more interesting.
“Let me know. Ain’t no fan of playing dress-up, but I’m sure I can find a way to make the match interesting for your betters.” Her status effect knives were probably still a no-go, but she didn’t mind a little extra challenge. It wasn’t half as fun if it was over too quickly.
“Next one is Libra 13. I’ll write you in.” She’d been planning on sitting next month out, but there was no way she was going to miss this kind of fight. Might not be a bad idea for her to lose; she couldn’t remember the last time she had lost in the Ring. There was no way in hell she was losing in team, though. She intended to pick a damage dealer and mimic the fuck out of him. “If you know of anyone would be interested, toss them my way, yeah?”
Just thinking about the matches reminded her she still had shit to take care of, and that included a visit to Cian. Not exactly the greatest of days, but she had to do what she had to do. It was better than sitting around and waiting for Reinholdt to call on her. She had no fucking idea what that man wanted with her and it was better not to dwell on it.
“I’ve got some things to take care of,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll get in touch when it gets closer to the night.”
“Too bad. If you ain’t here to distract me, I’m out of an excuse to skip dinner with Philip and his family.” Loch let out a resigned chuckle. “Take care, Ash. See you soon, yeah?”
As soon as Ash left, Loch turned her attention back to the papers in front of her. To say she wasn’t looking forward to dinner would be an understatement, but there was no getting out of it. At least the food would be good, and she’d known Philip long enough to be reasonably sure that if he ever tried to kill her, he wouldn’t do it by poisoning her soup. He wasn’t crafty enough.