~ SPOILERS for the 6th episode of Arcane ~

(this is the setting for "Heartstrings")

The vial rolled indolently, until it reached the very back of the shelf, its luminescent purple content swirling around against the cylinder-shaped surface. Letting out a long overdue sigh, the prostitute began placing her numerous bottles of various alcoholic beverages back on their shelf.

At least, the topsiders didn't pay her with Shimmer...

She slammed the wooden door of her cupboard shut, hearing the many glass receptacles inside it chime as they bumped against one another. Undoubtedly, especially in her profession's field, opportunities to sell the Shimmer were not lacking. However, she would have rather not gotten fully paid than contributed to Silco's hold on the Undercity. As for destroying the vials, she preferred to add to her stash. Perhaps they could be of use to her someday, apart from serving as samples for her sisters' experiments. After all, despite their preference for Piltovan  discoveries, Zaun's instinctive and limitless approach to science fascinated the quadruplets. The sex worker agreed that experimenting needed restrictions, but her way of inventing was chaotic enough that Zaunite technology did not often strike her as peculiar. Studying and interacting with scientists from the Underground also contributed to the understanding she possessed.

The female swiftly picked up her cloak, which was crumpled up on the floor, with one half of it underneath one of the two couches inside her room. She called the room hers simply because she had been its sole user ever since she first was hired to work at the brothel. Pinching the ever so slightly sheer burgundy fabric to wrap it over her shoulders, she felt an unusual relief when the material covered her. The courtesan was not completely bare, she had put her corset and lingerie back on after her latest client's departure, yet her clothes inexplicably made her feel uneasy... Well, maybe not inexplicably. Violet and a friend of hers, some good-looking young woman who clearly had never set foot in the Lanes before, had visited her workplace earlier that day.

She sighed and grabbed the neck of a tall green bottle that was stored on the visible and accessible shelves of her cabinet, at ground level. Straightening her spine, the hooker then leaned over to insert her fingers into a glass that was lying around. Unceremoniously, the prostitute emptied the slight amount of liquid inside it into the pot of the closest plant. She slumped, crossing her legs, onto the seat which lined the wall perpendicular to the cupboard that held her hidden Shimmer. With precise, automatic motions, she poured herself a drink and sent it directly down her throat. The liquor burned her flesh and she lowered her eyelids, running her tongue across her glossy lips. Before she could settle into a daze and drink more, she suddenly perceived fear...

Babette.

Her left thigh tingled as more emotions seeped into her: rage, obedience, dominance, fear again... The most overpowering of them all was that rage, that determination... A point next to her right shoulder blade itched momentarily, it was a Mark from a Deal she concluded what felt like an eternity ago...

So, he came all the way here and, no doubt... Her train of thought was interrupted by the violent passage of three bodies through the multiple crystal-ladened strings that dangled from the top of the doorframe, currently to her right.

Silco, in all his glory, stood to face her, flanked by two of his cronies. A few meters and an ovale table separated them, but - as always - his innate hunger for power and cut-throat anger filled the room effortlessly, to an intoxicating extent for any being who was capable of sensing emotions.

   "Well, look who it is..! Tell me, darling, how's your eye?" She sneered, bobbing her left foot up and down, blatantly amused.

   "Spare me your dubious humor. As long as you cooperate, we'll be out of here before you know it."

   "Good, I've got a packed schedule," she dropped her glass onto the low table in front of her and added, "Now, to what do I owe this honor?"

She arched her head back to stare at the ceiling, purposefully exposing her throat, and let her cape glide open to reveal her outfit by propping her arms up against the back of the couch.

   "You're familiar with Violet, right?"

   "Who?" she innocently asked.

   "Vander's daughter. You must remember her."

What he implied was obvious to her only: above all things, Vi was the daughter she could not have given Vander.

   "Pink hair? Powder's older sister?" She spoke lightly, as if she were asking him about his favorite snack.

   "Yes. And her name is Jinx." He retorted slowly, without attempting to mask the exasperation that tinted his dissatisfaction.

The prostitute briskly advanced her upper body to reach her table. She filled her glass with alcohol, avoiding Silco's glare. Picking the container up with her left hand, she moved her legs, placing her left one against the seat cushion to support the side of her elbow with her knee. At last, the creature met her guest's eyes, solely to shrug and tell him:

   "Yeah, I haven't got the slightest idea who that is."

Immediately afterwards, she drew a delicate sip from her translucent cup.

   "She came here and you spoke with her, don't deny it." His voice was threatening, however tiredly irritated, like he was scolding her.

   "I am denying it. That never happened."

Hiedra laughed softly, taking a swig of the liquid inside her glass. She switched her focus to its content, watching from the corner of her vision as the criminal motioned at his henchmen and they began inching to her side of the room.

   "All I ask is for you to tell me where she is. You will be compensated, of course, unless you see any reason to keep resisting me."

   "I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

   "What exactly?"

With outrageous speed and frightening accuracy, the hooker slammed her glass down onto her low table, sprang off of the couch, reached for an object that was stored in an open case behind it and brandished it.

   "Assume... I was speaking to your little friend."

She was smirking an entitled grin, a crossbow aimed at the woman who worked for Silco. The female in question had short dark hair and wore an eye patch, she had stopped moving and was now staring at the glistening metal bolt that was pointed at her.

Hiedra's crossbow used custom bolts, which the prostitute hired a blacksmith to produce specially for her. The head had three triangular sides instead of two and each of their slopes were serrated to tear into their target, then lodge themselves securely into it. Even the fletching was sharpened and metallic. More than anything else, the bolts were detailed arrow-shaped blades.

   "I won't fire at any of you as long as you stay on your side of the room. Deal?"

   "Deal," the Zaunite drawled, irked.

The courtesan snickered and sat on the arm of her seat, to minimize the shudders that shook her, keeping her weapon as it was in a loose - yet decisive - hold.

   "You're in no position to bargain, Silco. I'm in charge around here, not you."

She lowered her crossbow, sensing that her newest Mark was shaped like a spiky triangle, just above her right elbow.

   "Not quite. Your Deals will not save you forever, I'd even say they will be your downfall."

   "An unlikely but interesting prospect," she stated, amused.

   "Do you have a Deal with her?"

The sex worker was tapping the handle of her weapon against her thigh, glancing at her unfinished cup every five seconds or so.

   "I'd rather not say."

She plopped down onto her couch and her crossbow activated with a loud detonation. The bolt flew out of it and inserted itself into a wall-sized embellishment that was installed next to the entrance into her room, nearly slicing off his female associate's left ear in the process.

The second henchman, a cross-eyed, blond haired male, quickly regained his boss' side. However, the woman remained stunned and glared at the creature, too shocked to move. The courtesan laughed, apparently pleased with the accident and admiring her weapon. She promptly shook it, before leaving it to hang from the tips of her fingers.

   "Loose trigger," she commented, with a blood-curling smile broadening across her lips.

Abruptly, she dropped it onto the table, startling her guests and making the two cronies flinch. She drank whatever was left in her glass, then prepared herself an umpteenth drink.

   "Pour me one, will you, Hiedra?"

Glancing up, the prostitute arched an eyebrow at her old friend.

   "Of course..." she agreed in a low voice, half-mockingly.

Striding, she obtained a second short and wide container from her cupboard. She stood over the low table and folded her body from the waist to close her free fingers around the bottle's neck, the fill the glass she held. The immortal beauty grabbed her crossbow and angled her upper body back up.

The eye patch wearing employee hurriedly distanced herself from the other couch, which she had been frozen next to. Simultaneously, the inventor strolled forward, her hips purposefully swinging from side to side. She ceased moving when only about a foot separated their chests. The young female handed him his glass, but kept her grasp on it as he tried to take it with his fingers set around its rim, whilst hers circled the outer surface or were holding it from the base. She tilted her head to the left, slightly, leaning in with even greater subtleness.

   "Touch me..." she whispered, dragging her pupils up from the orange tint of the alcohol to settle on the healthier side of his otherwise ravaged face.