A calm focus washed over me as I stalked through the night with death at my heels. Death followed wherever I went, it was all I had ever known. I'd trained from the time I could walk in the art of assassination, learning techniques from various masters in various forms of martial arts. Loud raucous laughter from loose women trying too hard, and inebriated men poured from the pub. The nauseating scent of tobacco and the strong smell of alcohol hit me as I stepped into the pub. "...took it right out from under that giant oaf's nose..." I heard a bit of conversation from a table in the center of the packed pub, and so my target revealed himself, bragging about what he'd done. There were quite a few big-name crews present, might as well make this public. They needed to know, our crew wasn't to be trifled with. I slipped through the crowd of intoxicated men and women and stopped at the table in the center of the room fixing my gaze on a middle-aged man with wispy greying hair, a fat belly and the glossy gaze of one who'd had far too much drink. His jaundiced eyes swept up my body with a perverse smile, but widened when his gaze reached my face. "A-Alira!" He yelped and attempted to leap out of his chair but only managed to stumble back into it and cause it to slide back, scraping the floor loud enough to draw everyone's attention. "I'll pay it back-." "It's not about the pearls." I smiled sweetly. "It's not?" His voice went up an octave and I couldn't help but smirk as I noticed a visible quiver in his lips. "We've got plenty of money." I shrugged, "The problem here is that a dog such as yourself should know better than to bite the hand that feeds. We simply can't have that." Charles Vane X OC