The Velvet Curtain (Part 3 of ?)
The Velvet Curtain
Act 1: Swords of a Soldier
Chapter 3
The Dragon had a penchant for complicating things.
Shawn didn’t like complications, preferring her plans simple and straightforward. She knew what she wanted, and took the most direct approach available.
She wanted vengeance for Jack’s betrayal, so she had simply grabbed her trusty Master Devil Gun, donned her coat, and hunted him down. How many lands had she traversed with single-minded determination? The arid savannahs of Azteca, the chaotic bustle of the Metropolis underground, the ridges of Snow Hill Mountain... Heck, she’d trekked to hell and back just to kill the bastard
She had refined her gun to the eleventh level along the way, wanting to be sure that she’d get the job done the moment she cocked her gun and blew a hole through his chest. The compounds were near-perfect; she had expected nothing less of herself.
Her original plan, albeit overly simple, was to approach the bloody traitor unseen and shoot him point-blank. That way, his annoying skill for evasion would not cramp her style. She could no longer count with her fingers the times she had attempted a long-range shot in the past, only to miss him by a hair’s breadth. The man had sharp eyes and even sharper reflexes; a mere shift of his body could render a meticulously calculated shot from a hundred meters away futile.
It shouldn’t be this complicated. Point and shoot, point and shoot…
Nothing is ever as it seems…
Yes, but surely not complicated enough to justify the scarlet satin corset barely containing her overflowing breasts and cinching her waist to an impossibly narrow width. Or the layers upon layers of frilly lace skirt that billowed voluptuously at the back but barely covered her thighs in front. Or the gartered black stockings connecting the silk underwear barely peeking below the skirt to the matching high-heeled lace-up boots. Or the ruby hairpins loosely pinning a few lilac-auburn curls to the crown of her head, with the rest of the tresses left carelessly cascading down her back.
Shawn glowered at herself in front of the gold-gilded full-body mirror and promised bloody murder to the bastard dragon who had authored this travesty, and was now examining at his creation with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Well…” Lian began, eyes half-lidded and thoughtful as they openly appreciated on her bosom.
“Well what, you bastard?” Shawn hissed, suppressing the urge to cover herself with her hands. Not that it would do any good, as there was barely enough fabric to cover the essentials, and he was mentally stripping her anyway.
“…You clean up pretty well,” he finished, eyes darkened by lust finally rising to meet hers.
No sense of decency at all! She cursed him and his gorgeous indigo eyes inwardly. That telltale smirk appeared again, as if he could read her mind.
“I look like a whore,” she gritted out.
“As you should,” he agreed, nodding with satisfaction. “You have to look the part. And what a magnificent prostitute you make!”
“Shut up. Let’s just do this as planned. And stop ogling me!”
“Ah,” Lian said in a sing-song voice, an elegant hand slipping around her tiny waist, fingers playing with the black ribbons of the corset criss-crossing her back. Shawn couldn’t help but jump. Suppressing a shudder, she leveled an acrid glare at her tormentor. The dragon only chuckled.
“You’ll have to get used to this if we are to successfully pull it off, scrumptious little fox.”
Shawn merely snarled.
The antagonism turned around soon enough. Two hours later on an ivory divan in a luxuriously appointed salon with the glittering crystal chandeliers casting them in a warm glow, Shawn had Lian’s lap caged between her milky white thighs, purring shamelessly as his hands glided smoothly up the silken stockings and over the garters.
As an index finger slipping beneath the band, he leaned over and whispered, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Crimson-rouged lips smiled seductively as she leaned over in an almost kiss, and whispered into his mouth, “Screw you, Dragon.”
“Soon enough, Fox. Soon enough.”
“You bast--”
“Incoming,” he suddenly whispered, swooping in to bury his face into her neck, frantically whispering lips nuzzling under her ear, making her shiver. “There. To your left, by the lamp. That’s him.”
Shawn wantonly tilted her head back, lips parting in feigned pleasure. Meanwhile, sharp eyes surreptitiously followed the advancing form of what she could only describe as the prettiest boy she had ever seen. If she had to guess, she would say that the little blonde lion was only 14 or 15, barely a child. The big, innocent eyes and beatific smile didn’t help either, but the black suit and the gigantic Stinger jutting off his back pocket hinted to his actual identity.
“Dealer,” Lian acknowledged the boy, finally lifting his lips off a fresh hickey on Shawn’s neck with a satisfied lick of his lips.
The lion gave a jaunty little salute and grinned widely. “Hiya, Yer Highness. Ready fer this evenin’s round, yeah?”
“Mmm.” Lian pursed his lips in thought. Shawn took the opportunity to take a closer look at their company. She shimmied to a more comfortable position on Lian’s lap, sassily slipping both legs over to one side and then curling herself around him. She tucked her head tucking under his chin with her face coyly glancing at the Dealer. She quickly absorbed and tucked away every detail about the boy, from the freckles on his face to the assortment of pistols and ammunition discretely strapped underneath his jacket.
The boy looked positively bedazzled at the vixen on Lian’s lap. “Oh. Woah. Yer Highness! That’s sum new toy! Top quality ho, yeah, it sure is. Where’d ya get them goods?”
Lian’s hand tightened on Shawn’s shoulder before she did something stupid, like attack the boy and tear him apart with her bare hands. “We shouldn’t covet what isn’t ours, Dealer,” the dragon berated with a small smirk.
“I’m sorry, Highness, but that’s mighty hard with them jugs jigglin’ about…” The lion sighed longingly, disturbingly childlike eyes glued to Shawn’s breasts.
Lian felt Shawn bristle, and decided it was time to get going. “You mentioned a round? Mind escorting us to The Deck?”
“Cert’nly! But yeah… Y’know ‘em rules, yeah? The vixen can’t come with ya, more’s the pity; the Ace of Clubs woulda loved the view.” The Dealer chatted as he merrily skipped towards the heavy curtains at the end of the salon. Shawn slid off Lian’s lap, eyes still observing every detail of The Velvet Curtain’s waiting area even as the dragon pulled her along, fingers possessively curled around her waist. “But,” the blonde angel continued, twirling just in front of the curtain. “Ya can deposit yer vixen at the Celadon Lounge. She can watch ya play through them glass wall, ‘n I can watch her jugs while she watches ya play!” And he giggled merrily before slipping under the curtains.
Lian and Shawn exchanged looks. Shawn’s eyes shone with a mad sort of fearlessness, and Lian was immediately wary
“You’re unarmed,” he reminded under the guise of an affectionate kiss to the temple.
“I can improvise.”
“With what? You’ll strangle him with your brassiere?” Lian guffawed, ushering her through the purple curtains.
“The boy’s armed to the teeth. I can ’borrow’ a pistol or two,” she countered heatedly as they emerged on the other side of the drapes. They were greeted by a narrow corridor around a score foot in length, dimly lighted by the occasional wall sconce. Another set of drapes covered the end of the hall. Again, the snapshot was neatly filed away in Shawn’s brain as she slowly built a mental blueprint of the building.
Lian snorted softly. “Bullet-proof glass.”
She sighed. Well, so much for that plan…
They passed through the second set of drapes, and were immediately accosted by the overwhelming mixture of blinding chandeliers lights, the scent of opium, and the animated sounds of wheeling and dealing.
This was it; the gambling floor of The Velvet Curtain.
A passing waitress, scantily clad in a tight rust-colored dress that bared white thighs and way too much bossom, breezed over with a tray of drinks in one hand. After giving the pair a look-over, she flashed a flirtatious smile at Lian, but scowled sourly at Shawn. Lian appeased the hostile waitress by taking a glass of Diamond Potion with a wink, and led Shawn forward.
“Ah, the green-eyed monster rears its ugly head,” Lian observed good-naturedly, taking a sip of his drink. “They think you’re a threat. A pretty newcomer stealing their patron. I must admit, though, some of these ladies are quite talented in bed. I’ve availed of their services myself. I wonder if you’re a match in that area as well.”
“Too bad you’ll never find out,” Shawn replied coldly, but eased closer to Lian, her arm snaking around his waist just to piss off the other watching waitresses-cum-prostitutes. “Figures you’d be a manwhore”
“I was bored,” he replied nonchalantly, as if that were a perfectly acceptable excuse for frolicking with low-flying doves.
“Yer Highness! Yoohoo!”
The pair glanced up. At the far end of the room, past the violet-draped poker tables and its sea of gamblers, stood The Dealer waving his hands. He gestured over to the raised dais behind him, a cozy but spacious corner with a round table and its matching four wing chairs. An ornate lamp hung low from the ceiling, casting an amber glow on the shiny oak surface of the table. Beyond the table, glass-paneled doors led to a balcony overlooking the sublime shores of Oops Wharf.
The boy-lion raised four fingers, and mouthed, “Four minutes.”
Shawn tensed, hands instinctively reaching to her hip, and then cursed when she found that her holster that wasn’t there. Lian gave a reassuring squeeze on her waist before pulling per closer, his lips touching her ear.
“That’s the Deck. We’re playing there,” he murmured in a low voice. “You’ll be deposited into the Celadon room where you can watch. See that curtain beside the stairs to the dais? There. Behave yourself. Do not arouse suspicion. Observe how all the players behave. And then… you’ll know what to do.”
“Right,” Shawn replied, pulling back to stare into his solemn indigo eyes. Her fingers affectionately touched his chest, then slithered upwards to caress his nape and tangle into his silken hair. Everyone was watching, she knew. “I’ll find my opening. Ease into it.”
“Remember, we’re not in any hurry.”
“Mmm,” she replied vaguely. She honestly did not know what she could do if she saw him again and lost control. She might just…
“Caution is key, or you may lose your chance,” Lian repeated.
As always, he seemed to be reading her thoughts right off her face. She repressed a shudder at the disconcerting feeling of vulnerability before his gaze. “Yes. Caution,” she echoed.
“Do not do anything stupid.”
At this, she scowled. “You’re pushing it, Bastard-Dragon.”
He smirked. It was familiar, and almost comforting. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, and proceeded to herd her towards the sectioned room beside the Deck.
She was deposited into the Celadon Lounge. Aptly named, even the walls were covered in green velvet, except for one wall made entirely of glass to allow the occupants to view the game. Pale green divans lined the wall opposite the glass wall, with gold cushions and cashmere duvets adorning the furniture.
Obediently, she allowed herself to be laid down on the divan. Before The Dealer’s eyes, Lian and Shawn gave little show.
One hand gripping Lian’s shoulders and the other twisted into his hair, Shawn yanked him down over her and nipped teasingly at his lower lip. Lian’s eyes darted to the side overlooking the Deck and back at Shawn’s face, understood, and went to work. He gripped one stocking-covered thigh, ran over the revealed flesh, and raised it so that it can wrap around his hips before he plundered her mouth.
Lips, tongue, teeth. Let it be known that despite Shawn’s averseness to the arrogant dragon, he [i]was[/i] an exceptionally attractive male specimen with a surprisingly talented mouth. Unlike earlier at the waiting room, he drew moans that were not fabricated at the very least. His fingers, slow and deliberate, reached every patch of skin not covered by clothing. By the time he released her, she was panting loudly, flushed pink at the cheeks, her lips swollen, and her heaving bosom dangerously close to spilling over the top of her bodice.
Lian was considerate enough to tug a corner of her corset up a notch over her breast before rising from the divan. The bastard was smirking and looked unaffected, damn his miserable soul, but she was too dazzled to bother with an insult. Besides, a burly man who had come into the Deck just in time for their make-up section was gaping like fish and sporting a very obvious tent in his breeches.
Perfect.
Lian left the Celadon Lounge and entered the Deck, greeted the mystery voyeur with a nod and a loud “Ace of Clubs” for Shawn’s benefit.
Target identified.
While the two took their seats and waited for the rest of the players to assemble, Ace of Clubs kept his dark gaze on her. She decided to indulge him. Rolling to her side, she lounged on the divan with one long leg extended over the other and then leaned on her elbows to give more exposure to her bosom. With the way Ace’s lids fell half-mast and Lian’s approving glance, she confirmed that she was doing a job well-done.
She nudged her frilly skirt just a tiny bit higher up her leg for good measure, and laid back to watch the show unfold. By the end of the day, she would draw first blood.
TBC
Act 1: Swords of a Soldier
Chapter 3
The Dragon had a penchant for complicating things.
Shawn didn’t like complications, preferring her plans simple and straightforward. She knew what she wanted, and took the most direct approach available.
She wanted vengeance for Jack’s betrayal, so she had simply grabbed her trusty Master Devil Gun, donned her coat, and hunted him down. How many lands had she traversed with single-minded determination? The arid savannahs of Azteca, the chaotic bustle of the Metropolis underground, the ridges of Snow Hill Mountain... Heck, she’d trekked to hell and back just to kill the bastard
She had refined her gun to the eleventh level along the way, wanting to be sure that she’d get the job done the moment she cocked her gun and blew a hole through his chest. The compounds were near-perfect; she had expected nothing less of herself.
Her original plan, albeit overly simple, was to approach the bloody traitor unseen and shoot him point-blank. That way, his annoying skill for evasion would not cramp her style. She could no longer count with her fingers the times she had attempted a long-range shot in the past, only to miss him by a hair’s breadth. The man had sharp eyes and even sharper reflexes; a mere shift of his body could render a meticulously calculated shot from a hundred meters away futile.
It shouldn’t be this complicated. Point and shoot, point and shoot…
Nothing is ever as it seems…
Yes, but surely not complicated enough to justify the scarlet satin corset barely containing her overflowing breasts and cinching her waist to an impossibly narrow width. Or the layers upon layers of frilly lace skirt that billowed voluptuously at the back but barely covered her thighs in front. Or the gartered black stockings connecting the silk underwear barely peeking below the skirt to the matching high-heeled lace-up boots. Or the ruby hairpins loosely pinning a few lilac-auburn curls to the crown of her head, with the rest of the tresses left carelessly cascading down her back.
Shawn glowered at herself in front of the gold-gilded full-body mirror and promised bloody murder to the bastard dragon who had authored this travesty, and was now examining at his creation with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Well…” Lian began, eyes half-lidded and thoughtful as they openly appreciated on her bosom.
“Well what, you bastard?” Shawn hissed, suppressing the urge to cover herself with her hands. Not that it would do any good, as there was barely enough fabric to cover the essentials, and he was mentally stripping her anyway.
“…You clean up pretty well,” he finished, eyes darkened by lust finally rising to meet hers.
No sense of decency at all! She cursed him and his gorgeous indigo eyes inwardly. That telltale smirk appeared again, as if he could read her mind.
“I look like a whore,” she gritted out.
“As you should,” he agreed, nodding with satisfaction. “You have to look the part. And what a magnificent prostitute you make!”
“Shut up. Let’s just do this as planned. And stop ogling me!”
“Ah,” Lian said in a sing-song voice, an elegant hand slipping around her tiny waist, fingers playing with the black ribbons of the corset criss-crossing her back. Shawn couldn’t help but jump. Suppressing a shudder, she leveled an acrid glare at her tormentor. The dragon only chuckled.
“You’ll have to get used to this if we are to successfully pull it off, scrumptious little fox.”
Shawn merely snarled.
The antagonism turned around soon enough. Two hours later on an ivory divan in a luxuriously appointed salon with the glittering crystal chandeliers casting them in a warm glow, Shawn had Lian’s lap caged between her milky white thighs, purring shamelessly as his hands glided smoothly up the silken stockings and over the garters.
As an index finger slipping beneath the band, he leaned over and whispered, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Crimson-rouged lips smiled seductively as she leaned over in an almost kiss, and whispered into his mouth, “Screw you, Dragon.”
“Soon enough, Fox. Soon enough.”
“You bast--”
“Incoming,” he suddenly whispered, swooping in to bury his face into her neck, frantically whispering lips nuzzling under her ear, making her shiver. “There. To your left, by the lamp. That’s him.”
Shawn wantonly tilted her head back, lips parting in feigned pleasure. Meanwhile, sharp eyes surreptitiously followed the advancing form of what she could only describe as the prettiest boy she had ever seen. If she had to guess, she would say that the little blonde lion was only 14 or 15, barely a child. The big, innocent eyes and beatific smile didn’t help either, but the black suit and the gigantic Stinger jutting off his back pocket hinted to his actual identity.
“Dealer,” Lian acknowledged the boy, finally lifting his lips off a fresh hickey on Shawn’s neck with a satisfied lick of his lips.
The lion gave a jaunty little salute and grinned widely. “Hiya, Yer Highness. Ready fer this evenin’s round, yeah?”
“Mmm.” Lian pursed his lips in thought. Shawn took the opportunity to take a closer look at their company. She shimmied to a more comfortable position on Lian’s lap, sassily slipping both legs over to one side and then curling herself around him. She tucked her head tucking under his chin with her face coyly glancing at the Dealer. She quickly absorbed and tucked away every detail about the boy, from the freckles on his face to the assortment of pistols and ammunition discretely strapped underneath his jacket.
The boy looked positively bedazzled at the vixen on Lian’s lap. “Oh. Woah. Yer Highness! That’s sum new toy! Top quality ho, yeah, it sure is. Where’d ya get them goods?”
Lian’s hand tightened on Shawn’s shoulder before she did something stupid, like attack the boy and tear him apart with her bare hands. “We shouldn’t covet what isn’t ours, Dealer,” the dragon berated with a small smirk.
“I’m sorry, Highness, but that’s mighty hard with them jugs jigglin’ about…” The lion sighed longingly, disturbingly childlike eyes glued to Shawn’s breasts.
Lian felt Shawn bristle, and decided it was time to get going. “You mentioned a round? Mind escorting us to The Deck?”
“Cert’nly! But yeah… Y’know ‘em rules, yeah? The vixen can’t come with ya, more’s the pity; the Ace of Clubs woulda loved the view.” The Dealer chatted as he merrily skipped towards the heavy curtains at the end of the salon. Shawn slid off Lian’s lap, eyes still observing every detail of The Velvet Curtain’s waiting area even as the dragon pulled her along, fingers possessively curled around her waist. “But,” the blonde angel continued, twirling just in front of the curtain. “Ya can deposit yer vixen at the Celadon Lounge. She can watch ya play through them glass wall, ‘n I can watch her jugs while she watches ya play!” And he giggled merrily before slipping under the curtains.
Lian and Shawn exchanged looks. Shawn’s eyes shone with a mad sort of fearlessness, and Lian was immediately wary
“You’re unarmed,” he reminded under the guise of an affectionate kiss to the temple.
“I can improvise.”
“With what? You’ll strangle him with your brassiere?” Lian guffawed, ushering her through the purple curtains.
“The boy’s armed to the teeth. I can ’borrow’ a pistol or two,” she countered heatedly as they emerged on the other side of the drapes. They were greeted by a narrow corridor around a score foot in length, dimly lighted by the occasional wall sconce. Another set of drapes covered the end of the hall. Again, the snapshot was neatly filed away in Shawn’s brain as she slowly built a mental blueprint of the building.
Lian snorted softly. “Bullet-proof glass.”
She sighed. Well, so much for that plan…
They passed through the second set of drapes, and were immediately accosted by the overwhelming mixture of blinding chandeliers lights, the scent of opium, and the animated sounds of wheeling and dealing.
This was it; the gambling floor of The Velvet Curtain.
A passing waitress, scantily clad in a tight rust-colored dress that bared white thighs and way too much bossom, breezed over with a tray of drinks in one hand. After giving the pair a look-over, she flashed a flirtatious smile at Lian, but scowled sourly at Shawn. Lian appeased the hostile waitress by taking a glass of Diamond Potion with a wink, and led Shawn forward.
“Ah, the green-eyed monster rears its ugly head,” Lian observed good-naturedly, taking a sip of his drink. “They think you’re a threat. A pretty newcomer stealing their patron. I must admit, though, some of these ladies are quite talented in bed. I’ve availed of their services myself. I wonder if you’re a match in that area as well.”
“Too bad you’ll never find out,” Shawn replied coldly, but eased closer to Lian, her arm snaking around his waist just to piss off the other watching waitresses-cum-prostitutes. “Figures you’d be a manwhore”
“I was bored,” he replied nonchalantly, as if that were a perfectly acceptable excuse for frolicking with low-flying doves.
“Yer Highness! Yoohoo!”
The pair glanced up. At the far end of the room, past the violet-draped poker tables and its sea of gamblers, stood The Dealer waving his hands. He gestured over to the raised dais behind him, a cozy but spacious corner with a round table and its matching four wing chairs. An ornate lamp hung low from the ceiling, casting an amber glow on the shiny oak surface of the table. Beyond the table, glass-paneled doors led to a balcony overlooking the sublime shores of Oops Wharf.
The boy-lion raised four fingers, and mouthed, “Four minutes.”
Shawn tensed, hands instinctively reaching to her hip, and then cursed when she found that her holster that wasn’t there. Lian gave a reassuring squeeze on her waist before pulling per closer, his lips touching her ear.
“That’s the Deck. We’re playing there,” he murmured in a low voice. “You’ll be deposited into the Celadon room where you can watch. See that curtain beside the stairs to the dais? There. Behave yourself. Do not arouse suspicion. Observe how all the players behave. And then… you’ll know what to do.”
“Right,” Shawn replied, pulling back to stare into his solemn indigo eyes. Her fingers affectionately touched his chest, then slithered upwards to caress his nape and tangle into his silken hair. Everyone was watching, she knew. “I’ll find my opening. Ease into it.”
“Remember, we’re not in any hurry.”
“Mmm,” she replied vaguely. She honestly did not know what she could do if she saw him again and lost control. She might just…
“Caution is key, or you may lose your chance,” Lian repeated.
As always, he seemed to be reading her thoughts right off her face. She repressed a shudder at the disconcerting feeling of vulnerability before his gaze. “Yes. Caution,” she echoed.
“Do not do anything stupid.”
At this, she scowled. “You’re pushing it, Bastard-Dragon.”
He smirked. It was familiar, and almost comforting. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, and proceeded to herd her towards the sectioned room beside the Deck.
She was deposited into the Celadon Lounge. Aptly named, even the walls were covered in green velvet, except for one wall made entirely of glass to allow the occupants to view the game. Pale green divans lined the wall opposite the glass wall, with gold cushions and cashmere duvets adorning the furniture.
Obediently, she allowed herself to be laid down on the divan. Before The Dealer’s eyes, Lian and Shawn gave little show.
One hand gripping Lian’s shoulders and the other twisted into his hair, Shawn yanked him down over her and nipped teasingly at his lower lip. Lian’s eyes darted to the side overlooking the Deck and back at Shawn’s face, understood, and went to work. He gripped one stocking-covered thigh, ran over the revealed flesh, and raised it so that it can wrap around his hips before he plundered her mouth.
Lips, tongue, teeth. Let it be known that despite Shawn’s averseness to the arrogant dragon, he [i]was[/i] an exceptionally attractive male specimen with a surprisingly talented mouth. Unlike earlier at the waiting room, he drew moans that were not fabricated at the very least. His fingers, slow and deliberate, reached every patch of skin not covered by clothing. By the time he released her, she was panting loudly, flushed pink at the cheeks, her lips swollen, and her heaving bosom dangerously close to spilling over the top of her bodice.
Lian was considerate enough to tug a corner of her corset up a notch over her breast before rising from the divan. The bastard was smirking and looked unaffected, damn his miserable soul, but she was too dazzled to bother with an insult. Besides, a burly man who had come into the Deck just in time for their make-up section was gaping like fish and sporting a very obvious tent in his breeches.
Perfect.
Lian left the Celadon Lounge and entered the Deck, greeted the mystery voyeur with a nod and a loud “Ace of Clubs” for Shawn’s benefit.
Target identified.
While the two took their seats and waited for the rest of the players to assemble, Ace of Clubs kept his dark gaze on her. She decided to indulge him. Rolling to her side, she lounged on the divan with one long leg extended over the other and then leaned on her elbows to give more exposure to her bosom. With the way Ace’s lids fell half-mast and Lian’s approving glance, she confirmed that she was doing a job well-done.
She nudged her frilly skirt just a tiny bit higher up her leg for good measure, and laid back to watch the show unfold. By the end of the day, she would draw first blood.
TBC