12-09-2014, 06:04 PM
They walked into the cantina and the atmosphere was palpable. However clean and maintained this and the brothel were, you just couldn't wash away the sense of filth that came from the flesh trade.
Jacinda was no prude and she had seen more than her share of how screwed up the world was. She saw the glassy eyed looks of the girls in their lingerie- some not having the figures to look proper in them and felt her stomach turn.
She remembered Regan, when she was 12. He had treated her like a woman. He hadn't drugged her or abused her or anything. These girls had been kidnapped or sold or had been born into this life. They were nothing but toys.
She wanted nothing more than to burn this place to the ground. She looked over at Ricky and despite his attempt at composure, she could tell he felt the same way. Perhaps they would. She definitely knew she'd find a nice decoy for the queztal.
They went up to the bar and both ordered a drink. She got a light beer. She needed her wits tonight. A man burst in and made a scene that was quickly smoothed over. They were definitely on the right track. She wanted to follow after the guy but he was bundled out of there but knew that might draw too much attention.
So....they needed info. She watched the patrons- most of them men of various ages, all dressed well. Probably divided between wealthy patrons and those higher up in the cartel.
The girls would be a better source. It wouldn't be unrealistic for patrons to peruse the "merchandise"- the word left a sick feeling in her stomach- and she relayed her idea to Ricky. "We need to talk to the girls. See which one looks to be lucid enough to talk but not enough not to sell us out."
While she was sure not all the girls would do that, it was a distinct possibility. Slavery sometimes did that sort of thing to a person, made you wanna curry favor with your captors to avoid punishment or receive some momentary reprieve or reward. She couldn't blame them, really, but she wasn't gonna let them do it either.
She pushed away from the bar and started walking to a couple of the girls to get a read on them.
Jacinda was no prude and she had seen more than her share of how screwed up the world was. She saw the glassy eyed looks of the girls in their lingerie- some not having the figures to look proper in them and felt her stomach turn.
She remembered Regan, when she was 12. He had treated her like a woman. He hadn't drugged her or abused her or anything. These girls had been kidnapped or sold or had been born into this life. They were nothing but toys.
She wanted nothing more than to burn this place to the ground. She looked over at Ricky and despite his attempt at composure, she could tell he felt the same way. Perhaps they would. She definitely knew she'd find a nice decoy for the queztal.
They went up to the bar and both ordered a drink. She got a light beer. She needed her wits tonight. A man burst in and made a scene that was quickly smoothed over. They were definitely on the right track. She wanted to follow after the guy but he was bundled out of there but knew that might draw too much attention.
So....they needed info. She watched the patrons- most of them men of various ages, all dressed well. Probably divided between wealthy patrons and those higher up in the cartel.
The girls would be a better source. It wouldn't be unrealistic for patrons to peruse the "merchandise"- the word left a sick feeling in her stomach- and she relayed her idea to Ricky. "We need to talk to the girls. See which one looks to be lucid enough to talk but not enough not to sell us out."
While she was sure not all the girls would do that, it was a distinct possibility. Slavery sometimes did that sort of thing to a person, made you wanna curry favor with your captors to avoid punishment or receive some momentary reprieve or reward. She couldn't blame them, really, but she wasn't gonna let them do it either.
She pushed away from the bar and started walking to a couple of the girls to get a read on them.