Daan
amor vincit omnia ༊*·˚
She landed another dart into the bullseye, a thunk! secured her another ten stacks in the bag. Her smirk couldn't have been wiped off by anyone. Some top-50s artist filled the empty club. The sound technicians were moving around the stage area, making sure everything was working correctly. Taking a swipe of her glass off the counter, the woman snapped back the remaining of the vice.
“V, Ren’s looking for you.” Amelia, the other bartender, spoke from behind the counter. She swiped V’s glass off the counter.
“Where are they?” V questioned.
“The office.” Amelia retorts, cleaning the cup out.
“Thanks, Ame.” V moves away from the bar, taking her sweet time across the dance floor toward the elevator that existed deep within the VVIP section. From there, she pressed the top button that took her to the fourth floor of the building. From the elevator, she could see the club until that disappeared from view and saw the mostly empty floors until she got to the top floor—the fourth floor. The glass doors opened to the vestibule, a mostly empty yet opulent resting area.
Passing paintings of people that clung to walls, cushioned chairs and sofas off to the sides of the small hall, with coffee tables on either side. Small chandeliers hung above, sparkling like diamonds filled the chandeliers, giving an expensive aura off. Without knocking on the door, she pulled it open to reveal a spacious room; a second pair of back-lit stairs that went to another level, which would be the office. Just below it was another bar, stocked to high heaven with expensive alcohol and wines. An L-shaped, warm-toned sofa was just a small way from the four other chairs that formed around a small table. In front of the sofa was a small coffee table. Just behind the sofa was another set of back-lit stairs that went off to presumably another room—technically, it was V’s office, though she was rarely there.
Climbing the stairs on the right-side of the room, V noted several changes in busts that were littered about the room. Ren must’ve made changes whilst she was away, something she didn’t mind since she rarely visited the office, anyway. Once she made it to the top, Ren sat behind a black, sleek desk with a chair to match. They were typing away on a glass top where a hologram of keys appeared, a glass monitor to match, sat off to the right side of their desk.
“Ves, take a seat while I finish this report up.” Ren speaks. The clinking of their nails is all that can be heard.
Ves does as asked, taking a seat on one of the plush, black sofas. She looked around to note several obvious interior changes but didn’t comment on it. Whenever she visited Ren’s office, they always made changes—honestly, it was something she couldn’t quite get about them.
“Alright, done.” Ren turns the keypad off to clasp their hands in front of them on the table.
“Ren, you owe me ten stacks.” Ves speaks first. Earning a raised a brow at her. “Well, cardboard-you owe me ten thou.” She smiles.
“Right. I’ll just Venmo you, should be easy-peasy.” Ren sarcastically remarks. “Anyway…” A small card is produced from their box off to the side, which slides with ease in front of Ves. “Liv wants to make a contract with you.” They say casually.
“Any deets?” Ves inquires, swiping the card off to see Olivia Echols, printed in gold with a personal number, fax, and work number on it.
“Y’know how this works. Client never tells me, they tell you.” Ren retorts.
“Olivia Echols. Can’t say I know her too well.” Ves inspects it further, turning the card over to find a symbol on it.
“She’s a fashion designer. Mostly mortal. She’ll likely be dead within the next ten years. She’s pushing 120 already.” Ren relays.
“Mostly?” Ves looks past the black card.
“Comes from a long line of witches, like Salem-kind of witches.” Ren pours themselves a drink.
“120? Echols will last maybe 150 or 200, if she’s one of the lucky few.” Ves comments before sticking the card into her pocket. “Did she say where to meet?”
“The address is here.” Ren pulls out their PDA, pulling up a map to rich-part of the city.
“Ah...I hate that part of town.” Ves skulks before grabbing the PDA to sync the coordinates to her own.
“Oh, and Ava’s making a visit tonight.” Ren smiles wryly.
“Ava.” Ves echoes, making a deadpanned face. “Maybe I’ll take that sick day, y’know? Wouldn’t want to-”
“It’s mostly business, V. Wouldn’t want our top investor to pull out now, would we?” Ren’s smile grows wider.
“Not that I’m a big fan of your kind, Ren. You’re likely the only one I can tolerate long enough to run a business with.” Ves responds, taking that moment to stand.
“Hey, not all vamps. Remember.” Ren points at her with a knowing look.
“Whatever. Does Livvy wish to meet now? I have nothing going on today.”
“Yup.” Ren pops their ‘p.’ They take a swig of their vice. “Sooner the better, were her exact words. Better get a move along, V. V.”
“Right. See you for shift tonight...I guess.” She murmurs the last part.
“V, Ren’s looking for you.” Amelia, the other bartender, spoke from behind the counter. She swiped V’s glass off the counter.
“Where are they?” V questioned.
“The office.” Amelia retorts, cleaning the cup out.
“Thanks, Ame.” V moves away from the bar, taking her sweet time across the dance floor toward the elevator that existed deep within the VVIP section. From there, she pressed the top button that took her to the fourth floor of the building. From the elevator, she could see the club until that disappeared from view and saw the mostly empty floors until she got to the top floor—the fourth floor. The glass doors opened to the vestibule, a mostly empty yet opulent resting area.
Passing paintings of people that clung to walls, cushioned chairs and sofas off to the sides of the small hall, with coffee tables on either side. Small chandeliers hung above, sparkling like diamonds filled the chandeliers, giving an expensive aura off. Without knocking on the door, she pulled it open to reveal a spacious room; a second pair of back-lit stairs that went to another level, which would be the office. Just below it was another bar, stocked to high heaven with expensive alcohol and wines. An L-shaped, warm-toned sofa was just a small way from the four other chairs that formed around a small table. In front of the sofa was a small coffee table. Just behind the sofa was another set of back-lit stairs that went off to presumably another room—technically, it was V’s office, though she was rarely there.
Climbing the stairs on the right-side of the room, V noted several changes in busts that were littered about the room. Ren must’ve made changes whilst she was away, something she didn’t mind since she rarely visited the office, anyway. Once she made it to the top, Ren sat behind a black, sleek desk with a chair to match. They were typing away on a glass top where a hologram of keys appeared, a glass monitor to match, sat off to the right side of their desk.
“Ves, take a seat while I finish this report up.” Ren speaks. The clinking of their nails is all that can be heard.
Ves does as asked, taking a seat on one of the plush, black sofas. She looked around to note several obvious interior changes but didn’t comment on it. Whenever she visited Ren’s office, they always made changes—honestly, it was something she couldn’t quite get about them.
“Alright, done.” Ren turns the keypad off to clasp their hands in front of them on the table.
“Ren, you owe me ten stacks.” Ves speaks first. Earning a raised a brow at her. “Well, cardboard-you owe me ten thou.” She smiles.
“Right. I’ll just Venmo you, should be easy-peasy.” Ren sarcastically remarks. “Anyway…” A small card is produced from their box off to the side, which slides with ease in front of Ves. “Liv wants to make a contract with you.” They say casually.
“Any deets?” Ves inquires, swiping the card off to see Olivia Echols, printed in gold with a personal number, fax, and work number on it.
“Y’know how this works. Client never tells me, they tell you.” Ren retorts.
“Olivia Echols. Can’t say I know her too well.” Ves inspects it further, turning the card over to find a symbol on it.
“She’s a fashion designer. Mostly mortal. She’ll likely be dead within the next ten years. She’s pushing 120 already.” Ren relays.
“Mostly?” Ves looks past the black card.
“Comes from a long line of witches, like Salem-kind of witches.” Ren pours themselves a drink.
“120? Echols will last maybe 150 or 200, if she’s one of the lucky few.” Ves comments before sticking the card into her pocket. “Did she say where to meet?”
“The address is here.” Ren pulls out their PDA, pulling up a map to rich-part of the city.
“Ah...I hate that part of town.” Ves skulks before grabbing the PDA to sync the coordinates to her own.
“Oh, and Ava’s making a visit tonight.” Ren smiles wryly.
“Ava.” Ves echoes, making a deadpanned face. “Maybe I’ll take that sick day, y’know? Wouldn’t want to-”
“It’s mostly business, V. Wouldn’t want our top investor to pull out now, would we?” Ren’s smile grows wider.
“Not that I’m a big fan of your kind, Ren. You’re likely the only one I can tolerate long enough to run a business with.” Ves responds, taking that moment to stand.
“Hey, not all vamps. Remember.” Ren points at her with a knowing look.
“Whatever. Does Livvy wish to meet now? I have nothing going on today.”
“Yup.” Ren pops their ‘p.’ They take a swig of their vice. “Sooner the better, were her exact words. Better get a move along, V. V.”
“Right. See you for shift tonight...I guess.” She murmurs the last part.
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