Fight Night [Almaz]

[Tatyana]

Tatyana looked at herself in the mirror, and even as she smiled, she felt a twinge of sadness. It had been a long time since she hadn't seen at least some layer of dirt on her face.  Her hair was braided and newly trimmed - by a professional no less, and the last time she had looked at herself, she had been more gaunt than she was now.  A couple days of regular eating had brought some life back to her. Even her clothing was near - she wore a nice pair of black slacks and a light blue button up blouse.  She hadn't dressed like this in a long time it reminded her of when her dad was still around and it felt like a lifetime ago.

The change was courtesy of Zeke, who had decided for some reason to take her to a club.  Tatyana had asked no more, and Zeke hadn't offered more, but he had told her where to go and when to go there.  At his insistence, she was given new clothing fit for the location, was instructed to get a new hair cut, and to bathe appropriately.  The clothing felt odd - felt clean.  She felt clean.  She also felt pretty. It had been a long time since she had even wondered at whether or not she was attractive, but as she gazed in the mirror she could see it. Appearance had never been a big thing for her, but for some reason she now appreciated it, even if she wouldn't flaunt it.

Tatyana left the bathroom and headed out heading to the location that Zeke had given her.  She found a line outside of the club and a bouncer was letting people in or denying entry. Inwardly she was grateful.  This wasn't Nebasa's Gate nor was it any club owned by the Vasilievs.  She waited in line until she got to the bouncer. He stopped her.

"My name is Tatyana - I'm supposed to meet Zeke here," another instruction from Zeke.

The bouncer looked at a list and then nodded, allowing her entry into the club. She entered to find lavishly decorated bar. This was where she was told to meet Zeke.  Looking around see she a descending staircase.  Patrons met with each other and talked.  Tatyana was familiar enough to know that in some cases, business was being conducted.  That business was one of hers.  A few patrons looked at her, some appearing to question her appearance here and others appearing to check her out.  It confirmed to her that she was looking attractive now.  Tatyana didn't see Zeke, so she went up to the bar and sat at a place where she could see the entrance. She would wait for Zeke to arrive.

[Ezekiel]

Zeke wasn’t strictly on time, which was by intention. He wanted to leave Tatyana vulnerable and out of her element in this new environment, give her time for the ghosts to stir and haunt her with memories of the life she had lived before – and how it no longer fit so easily around her shell. Those little cracks would make her all the more pleased to see him. Not that he doubted her willingness to please at all; this little game was all for his own pleasure.

Almaz was not a side of his life that intersected much with his work at the church. It wasn’t hidden away; rather, it was just that one rarely had any benefit for the other. The clientele here was rich or dangerous and often both, a far cry from the desperation of the undercity’s rejects. But all people craved the high Zeke offered, no matter where they came from. At this club, they also relied on drugs for the fighters; to blunt their pain, to bulk them up. Sometimes to send them into senseless frenzy. He peddled in other things too, but none of that had any bearing on tonight.

It was because of his connections that he did not arrive from the main entrance, where Tatyana’s attention was intently fixed from her perch at the topside bar. She looked young without the dirt and threadbare clothing, and he watched the way others glanced in her direction. Everything about her appearance tonight was contrived from Zeke’s generosity. A creature of his making.

He took his time, observing her from the shadows, before he drew close enough to be noticed. Zeke himself did not look so different to usual, beyond that the cut of his dark clothing was expensive. It still draped his slender frame like a kiss of darkness. “Tatyana.” He said her name like possession, a velvety net of safety. Zeke was on her side, after all. He leaned against the bar beside her, and flashed a tattooed hand to summon service.

[Tatyana]

Tatyana waited and the longer she waited the more insecure she became. This place reminded her of the Vasiliev Christmas party. People were talking and laughing. They were making business deals and alliances. Men were looking at her the way the man who had asked her to dance looked at her. It was surreal - a return to the time before her fall - to the time when the fall had started.

Tatyana’s hand opened and closed in nervousness, not caused by the lack of drugs in her system. She hadn’t taken her pill today. She felt like Zeke wouldn’t like that. This felt different - like in some way she was representing him. After all, he had cared enough about her appearance to get her the outfit and to stress her need to bathe.

Finally she saw him come in. He hadn’t come in the main entrance like she had expected. Her smile as he approached was one of gratitude. He spoke only her name in greeting, reminiscent of the way he had spoken her name when they had met; a primal call that claimed ownership even if she didn’t understand that.

”Zeke,” she said in imitation of his greeting, but she said his name with a twinge of awe and gratefulness. ”Its good to see you. Thanks for the clothes, haircut, and shower. I feel…clean.”

It was such a simple thing - cleanliness - but it felt foreign to her. Still she liked it. Zeke had raised his hand for service, but she didn’t order anything or ask for anything. It wasn’t her place to. I haven’t been to a place like this in a long time. Not since…” her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to talk about the Vasilievs.