Kurt kept moving through the Foxhole, his eyes scanning faces and doorways, trying to shake the images burned into his brain.
Three-breasted won. Cat-tailed dominatrixes. He’d seen a lot in his short, mory-less life, but this place was sothing else entirely.
And then he saw her.
She was standing near the bar, laughing with another girl, her dark blue bob-cut hair tied with a dim blue ribbon on top of her head.
She was short, barely up to his shoulder, wearing a rather peculiar dress compared to the other girls. If not trying to stand out was the objective, she failed spectacularly.
Kurt stopped dead at the sight of her. "I know you."
The girl’s laughter cut off. Her large, bright blue eyes, almost teal, went wide, and she turned away quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Sorry," she said with a quiet voice. "You must have confused with soone else."
Kurt grinned and stepped closer. "Nah. You’re the con artist. Decent setup, I’ll give you that. The whole ’damsel in distress’ bit in the F-rank district. Almost had fooled."
She stiffened, her shoulders going rigid, and she turned to face him with a forced smile. "I really don’t know what you’re talking about."
Kurt leaned in, lowering his voice. "You should’ve picked a better mark, love. Watched your body language. You kept glancing at the alley exit every five seconds. Dead giveaway."
Her smile faltered. "Look, I don’t know who you think I am, but—"
Kurt interrupted her mid-sentence with a grin on his face. "Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing you don’t want people finding out about your little side hustle," his grin got wider that crinkles ford at the edges of his eyes.
The girl’s eyes darted around, and she grabbed his arm, pulling him toward a quieter hallway off to the side. Once they were out of earshot, she spun on him, her expression panicked.
"Keep your voice down!" she hissed. "If anyone hears—"
"Relax, love," Kurt said, leaning against the wall. "I’m not here to rat you out. But I am curious. What’s a con artist doing working in a place like this?"
She crossed her arms, glaring at him. "I work here. I’m not running scams anymore."
"Sure you’re not," Kurt said. "So what happens if your boss finds out you were moonlighting in the F-rank district? What was it... fake mugging? Lost wallet sche? Bit of both?"
Her face went pale. "You wouldn’t."
"Depends," Kurt said, pulling out a toothpick and biting on it to compensate for the lack of a cigarette. "You going to help , or do I need to have a chat with... what’s her na? Madam Ilda?" He said, recalling what the other ladies referred to their patron as.
The girl’s eyes widened. "You can’t! Mama Ilda would kill if she knew I was out there running scams. She’s strict about that kind of thing. This place is her kingdom, and she doesn’t tolerate anyone bringing heat down on it."
Kurt exhaled slowly. "Then I guess you’d better help out, yeah? How does the saying go? I scratch your back, you scratch mine?"
She glared at him, frustrated, but after a long mont, she sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"
"Information," Kurt said. "About a client of yours. Big guy, goes by Braun Ironside. Cos here a lot I’ve heard, and I need to know what he talks about."
She bit her lip, hesitating. "I don’t know if I—"
"Think about it," Kurt said, leaning closer. "You help , I keep my mouth shut. Simple innit?"
She looked at him for a long mont, then nodded reluctantly. "Alright. But best I can do is lead you to mama. Deal?"
"Deal," Kurt said, grinning. "So, what’s the na of my delightful new acquaintance?"
"Sam," she said quietly. "Samantha."
"Pleasure, Sam," Kurt said. "Now, how about you take to this Madam Ilda and we see what we can work out?"
Sam started walking, and Kurt matched her pace, walking beside her with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trench coat. As they moved through the hallway, Kurt’s curiosity got the better of him.
"So," he said casually, "what’s the deal with the... you know." He gestured vaguely with his shoulders and eyes. "The ones with the horns and tails. The animal people."
Sam stopped abruptly and turned to glare at him. "Woah! First of all, they’re not called ’Animal people.’ That’s offensive."
"Beast-folks?" Kurt corrected.
"No! Still offensive," Sam glared at him for a second then kept walking.
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Is it now?"
"Yes!" Sam said, crossing her arms. "Have you been living under a rock or sothing?"
"You could say that," Kurt ran his fingers through his hair. "Mind helping this rock troll out?" He asked with that sa crinkle smile that couldn’t help convey his charm.
Sa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. "Fifty years ago, the ergence of dungeons released a burst of essence throughout every district. It caused mutations in so humans. They’re called Minaris. So words like ’beast-folks’ or ’mutants’ or ’animal people’ are really offensive."
Kurt took a hand out of his pocket, combing through his hair and smirked. "Right. Minaris. Got it. Wouldn’t want to offend the lady with three tits."
Sam’s face turned red. "You’re an asshole."
"So I’ve been told," Kurt said, grinning. "But thanks for the lesson. Very enlightening that."
Sam muttered sothing under her breath and kept walking. Kurt followed, his mind already processing the new information.
’Minaris. Essence mutations. Fifty years.’ It all tied back to the dungeons, just like everything else in this world.
They reached a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall, polished with gold accents that glead under the low light. Sam stopped and turned to face him.
"She’s just behind this door," Sam said quietly. "Mama Ilda. If you want info, she’s your only chance of getting it. But be careful. She’s not soone you want to cross."
Kurt grabbed the toothpick, flicked it onto the floor, and ground it out with his boot... he really needed a cigarette. "Thanks for the warning, love. I’ll try not to piss her off."
Sam looked at him, her expression uncertain. "Good luck. You’re going to need it."
She turned and walked away, leaving Kurt standing alone in front of the door. He stared at it for a mont, then reached out and knocked.
"Let’s have ourselves a nice little chinwag," he rubbed his palms together and knocked again.
***
A/N: I hope you’re enjoying this so far. Add to Library and send a power stone or two if you’re.
And a review or two would an sothing to ! Thank you and peace!
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