The tall man sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her. She flinched away and found herself braced from behind by the small guy. He was shockingly strong and his chest was firm against her back. "No do that, stupid." he murmured into her ear, a small strong hand on each of her shoulders.

The broad held up both hands. "I'm going to take the tape off. Go for it, Fei." Phinks reached slowly out again and gently pulled the duct tape off of her face. It looked like it stung and Feitan was surprised to see that her face was decently pretty without the tape. No wonder Phinks had his way with her. Suddenly, Feitan was gone from behind her, standing next to the bed.

"Now, there. Much better," the blonde was saying. His attempt at a smile was kind of scary. "My friend here needs to hear everything you know about the girl making statues. Everything. And he's a lot less patient than me."

"Tch. Stupid." Feitan said. "She want die." There was a muffled thump and the girl's head whipped forward.

"What are you doing? What is all this?" She cried. Both men shushed her.

"We theives." Feitan whispered matter of factly. "I look for artist girl. Tell me or say goodbye to finger tips."

"I can't! I'll be killed!"

Feitan chuckled. "We kill you before then." A small smile lit up his already beautifully twisted face.

Phinks relaxed and stepped away from the chair. "I'd listen to him doll. Death by Feitan is something even I don't want." He cracked open the room door and peered out into the hall. "You got everything here?"

Feitan nodded. "Bring beer. For Celebration." Phinks grinned and slipped out. Feitan settled himself on the chair, producing a small book from somewhere in his long black tunic. The woman stared at him as he began to read.

"You're not gonna..." she asked weakly.

Feitan ignored her.

"P-Please don't!" She cried.

"Haven't touched you," Feitan replied, not looking up.

She subsided for a moment, then: "The other man..."

Feitan spared her a look, finally. "Don't care. Need info."

"I can't!" Tears flowed freely, "The woman, she said--"

Feitan sighed, putting his book away. "Artist no hurt you. She good." His sharp dark eyes studied her. His pale hand produced the knife out of nowhere. "You talk to her?"

"No! Her sister! Her sister threatened to kill me! I just stopped to tell the girl she was a good artist... But then this crazy woman grabbed me and told me if I ever said a word about her sister that she'd find me and put needles in every part of my body."

Feitan was suddenly in her face. "This woman. What she look like?" The girl crumbled and was sobbing wildly now. "WHAT SHE LOOK LIKE?!" Frustrated, Feitan took his favorite knife out and began to press down on her cheek. "You die one way or other." Slowly, he began to fillet the skin from her face as she screamed. Thankfully, no one in Meteor City cared. They cared even less, if possible, since he was a Troupe Member. "Shame. Had pretty face. Had." The second cheek easily slid off of the zygomatic bone. He was living up the way the bright, oxygenated blood flowed from her face.

"P-Pink h-hair! Short k-kimono!" She cried.

I knew it. It was Machi. The artist is her sister? That's too big of a coincidence... and she heard that I was looking for her... Fuck. What am I going to do? Feitan thought to himself as he quickly slit the throat of the poor woman on the bed. He sat and watched the blood pump out as he thought. Normally, he would ignore the fact that Machi was involved, but there was a simple solution.

A coin flip.

AN: Sorry it took so long, I've been both busy and stuck forever. But y'all deserve a good Feitan fic!