Takeover

Poppy

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Mar 18, 2015
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There were a number of night clubs in the Strip, and tonight, the duke of hell was going to visit one of the oldest.

Club Gambit. Up until this point, Mikhainon had only heard of it in the periphery. He'd been curious, of course. He'd thought it was going to be bad for business having Gomorrah built just the other side of the road from it but according to his monthly revenue, apparently not. In the short course of months his temple opened, Gomorrah boomed. And all this time, Mikhainon wondered at the back of his head, well, how did Club Gambit's owner feel about that? Mikhainon was vague on a specific plan for this visit but he knew an opportunity when he saw one.

He stepped into the establishment, handsome and formal as ever, with a bouquet of lilies, white roses, and tulips. It was a gift for Yura Bengall and, in his endless wit, simultaneously her funeral arrangements. If she had a good eye for competition, she'd expect his arrival. She wouldn't like it, but she'd expect it. Business rivals tend to always notice.

On a side note, why did some club owners make their establishments so bright? If it was to show off decorations, then that was infinitely dumb. As far as he was concerned, the demographic couldn't give a lick as long as it wasn't a complete hole. Alcohol was alcohol, and nobody wanted to look at how really ugly the person they were grinding against were.

Mikhainon walked up to one of the waitresses with a charming smile. "Hello." He offered her the bouquet. "This is for Yura Bengall. Tell her it's from Gabriel Baltimore of Gomorrah."

And with that, Mikhainon sat at the bar, ordered his usual scotch on the rocks, and waited for his new friend.


@Kathinja
 

Kathinja

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Yamato
Yura Bengall

That ‘waitress’ that Gabriel happened to approached actually turned out to be Yamato. It just so happened that day that he decided to wear a frilly maid uniform like his bestest friend Bunny instead of the butler attire the rest of the male workers in the establishment did. On top of that, Bunny put some makeup on him to see how feminine she could get him to look—and it was quite effective!

He was rather confused when a man suddenly came up with a charming smile, handed him a bouquet of flowers, and said they were for Yura. A man. Giving flowers. To Ms. Yura. Why would a man give flowers to Ms. Yura? Yamato was fairly naïve when it came to the world, but even he knew this made no sense.

But despite the confused twitch of his fox ears, he kept a cute and polite smile on his face as he addressed the man.

“Oh, okay!” he said, revealing a more boyish voice than was perhaps expected. “I will go get her right now!”

With a quick flick of his bushy tail, Yamato scurried off quickly toward Yura’s office on the other side of the club. He knocked on the door, and then peeked his head in.

“Ms. Yura? There is a…um…there is a man here to see you.”

Yura glanced up from her papers with a raised eyebrow.

“And, um, he brought these?” Yamato added as he shuffled into her office and went to place the bouquet of flowers on her desk.

Yura stared down at them with a curl of her lip. “A man brought these for me?”

“I know! It’s weird!” Yamato said. “He said he was…um…Gabriel Baltimore from Gomorrah? He’s at the bar.”

Yura’s head snapped up from looking at the flowers. “Is that so?” she asked, with a clear but of irritation in her voice. Yamato got a little nervous even though he knew she wasn’t annoyed at him.

“Um, yes?” Yamato squeaked out, taking a step back. “Is that bad? What’s a Gomorrah?”

Yura let out a sigh as she rose from her desk to head out, waving her hand absently. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of him.”

“What about the flowers?”

“You can have them,” she muttered as she stepped out.

“Oh! Thank you!” Yamato beamed, grabbing up the bouquet and shuffling off backstage to find something to put them in.

Yura headed to the bar. It was a slower night, and there was only one man at the bar, so it was easy enough to assume who this Gabriel was. She was aware of him, and his new club, because it was the reason her club was even having slower nights to begin with. Club Gambit was still doing well, with many loyal customers considering how long it has been on Mata Carlos Island, but…she was seeing the effects of competition.

“Mr. Baltimore?” Yura inquired as she approached the man. Despite the annoyance she exhibited in front of Yamato, she was completely calm and professional now. She stretched out a thin, pale hand to shake his. “I’m Yura Bengall, the owner of Club Gambit. What brings you in tonight?”
 

Poppy

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Ah, there she was now! She was certainly a bombshell, and she had a look about her that told him to fuck right off. He found he quite liked that.

"Ms. Bengall! You're as lovely as they say. I've been dying to meet you." Mikhainon smiled charmingly and shook her hand with a firm grip, placing his free hand on top of hers. It didn't seem like she'd appreciate him kissing the back of her hand, so he refrained.

"Please, have a drink with me. I want to get to know the owner of Club Gambit personally. It's only good business to know the sort of people you're competing with, isn't it?" He gestured at the empty seat next to his. Aw. Empty. How sad. He sat back, picking his drink up. "Nice set up, though I don't quite get the appeal of Burlesque. I do like the empty bar. It's so hard to get a drink at Gomorrah when people crowd the bar all the time, even when we have five people behind the counter."

He rested his cheek on the palm of his hand, smiling. "I'm sure I just walked into a slow night. It's better in the weekends, I assume?"
 

Kathinja

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Marie, the bartender at that particular time, had poured Gabriel his drink and already had a glass of water out for Yura as well. Word spread pretty damn fast among the workers at Club Gambit—she was already aware that this man had come to see Yura and that he was a club owner. Marie was quite happy to be the bartender that night now—this could potentially get interesting.

As Yura sat to engage Gabriel in whatever conversation he had come to have, Marie busied herself around the bar. She had to work hard to not let a snarky little smirk cross her lips as she overheard. She could just imagine Yura’s inner monologue as this man spoke: Motherfucker coming in here shit talking my club like he fucking knows anything if I could get him to look away for just five seconds I could poison his drink with my fucking blood fucking fucker I will break my 'no more murder' rule on this bastard in a heartbeat.

At least that’s what Marie imagined. Yura, of course, made no indication of such thoughts in her mannerisms. She was calm and controlled as always. But she did slit her eyes slightly as his words rolled through her mind.

“Weekends are an entirely different beast,” Yura said before taking a sip of her water. “I am terribly busy working on expansions. I suppose that’s why I simply have had no time to invite myself to see the competition.”

She shrugged casually. His comments irritated her—of course they did—but she would not show any indication. She refused to let the competition think for a moment that he was under her skin.
 

Poppy

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Yura was definitely a professional in her field, he'd give her that. She didn't make her outrage known, but the careful squint in her eyes meant she got his insults just fine. He was definitely looking forward to how she'll deal with him. If he knew a thing about her type, it was that he'd suddenly find himself buried somewhere by assassins or by her. How exciting.

"I see. It's always busier in the weekends, isn't it? I'm glad you still have days that could make up for production costs." He nodded carefully. "Expansions? Really? You mean this building, or are you opening up somewhere else? ...Or, perhaps, are you moving on to other ventures?" He couldn't even imagine opening up another Burlesque club, god forbid. Nobody took an interest to it anymore when they had access to real tits, aside from people that saw the bad Christina Aguilera movie.

"Bengall, I know you probably don't think the best of me, but I'm not here to start anything. I'd like to be friends, as a matter of fact. People like us have to stick together. The Strip has been buzzing lately, and as it stands, businesses are closing left and right to make way for even better things." He leveled his gaze. "I know this, and that's why I'm reaching out to you. I'm very worried about Club Gambit. At the very least, it's a Manta Carlos historical site. It needs to be preserved."
 

Kathinja

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“Expanding this building,” Yura replied simply with a quick shifting of her crossed legs. Gabriel’s questioning would not waiver her confidence in an expansion, obviously. She knew her clientele and the numbers—her club was due for an expansion to accommodate the weekend crowds.

Yura listened carefully as Gabriel started to talk about how he just wanted to be friends and how he was just concerned. Right. Yura removed her glasses for a moment to clean them off with a cloth she kept in her pocket, and placed them back in front of narrowed eyes that were clearly unimpressed.

“I think it’s good to have a little diversity on the strip—it’s a bit boring to have nothing but strip clubs. No offense toward Gomorrah intended. It just seems to me all the places that are closing left and right are, in fact, predominantly strip clubs. ” Yura took a sip of her water.

“Obviously you had a good idea with something that is a bit…overdone. But most people aren’t quite so clever, so of course they’re failing,” Yura said with a shrug. She certainly would not deny that Gabriel was quite the business expert to build up a strip joint into such a prolific club. It didn’t change the fact that she found strip clubs rather tacky and boring though. She found burlesque more creative and interesting, and generally the clientele of burlesque were more…preferable to be around compared to strip clubs.

Yura rolled her eyes just a touch when Gabriel called her club a ‘historical landmark.’

“Hm. Cute. But I assure you: your concerns are unfounded. Club Gambit is doing quite well.”
 

Poppy

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"Expansion..." Mikhainon nodded. "Predictable. Simple. Bold! Remember to hire exclusively weekend staff. Waste of money, otherwise." He kidded, of course. He was sure Yura wouldn't appreciate his advice, but he thought he'd give it anyway. He liked her when she was snippy.

Mikhainon waved a hand. "Gomorrah is a night club, darling, and not a strip club. There are strippers, but they're in the VIP rooms. Truly, Gomorrah is more successful because it's more than a place of depravity. It's a place of worship for my aspects, a place where I pour all my passion and love. People appreciate effort, and from what I learned in my short stay here, people rather enjoy prostrating to me." Ha. In more ways than one. Was he overly cocky? That was hard to deny, but it wasn't without reason.

"If Club Gambit is doing well..." This time, he moved closer, intent. To the untrained eye, it looked like flirting, but he was scoping her out, invading her space. It was predatory, but unlike his usual hunts, they were both big predators. "Then you would have no problem spending money onto other ventures, like I said. I'd like to work with you. Now, before you turn me down..." He pulled out a business card from his blazer. It was a black card with his seal at the middle and a celphone number just below it. He slid it to her, his cat-like eyes practically glowing. "...Business isn't about making friends. That's why I sought you out, and that's why I like you, Bengall — I could recognize kin right away. You and I would do anything to achieve our ends. Give me a call, if you're ever feeling more ambitious than a simple expansion."
 

Kathinja

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Yura watched Gabriel closely as he spoke. They were both predators, but Yura knew full well that he had the advantage. He was more established on the island, and if the rumors of what kind of powers he had were true…she accepted that he was like the alpha wolf, while she was perhaps an injured beta by comparison. But Yura did not back away when Gabe shifted closer to her.

And then he revealed why he was there: he wanted to work together? Yura was thrown off momentarily. Very little in this world surprised Yura, but Baltimore had just managed to do exactly that.

It would benefit her to work with Baltimore—that much she could admit. He was right: business was not about making friends, and the two of them had the same ruthless ambition that would lead them far. Combine the two, and, well…there was so much potential, in that regard.

But besides that, what was in it for Baltimore?

“Alright, Mr. Baltimore. I’ll admit you piqued my curiosity,” Yura replied as she picked up his card and slipped it into her coat pocket.
 

Poppy

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Hook, line, and sinker. People were always suspicious of him but they always took the bait. They knew power when they saw it, knew when they were outmatched, and most relevant of all, it tempted them when he dangled it in front of their face anyway. I'm smart, I'll be careful, I'll play it safe were the usual thoughts that crossed their mind. They wanted to taste godhood for themselves, but Mikhainon had been playing this game for so long he knew how to rig the board to suit him.

He knew Yura's type. Strong as she was, her type always fell the easiest to his tricks. It was true, ambition took people places, and sometimes those places were straight to hell.

He stood up, maintaining eye contact but posture ridiculously relaxed. He slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled at her, a smile more suitable in a dark alley than a well-lit establishment like this.

"Then I'll be hearing from you soon, Bengall," was all he said in response to that. He poked her on the nose, nodded at her stuff, and went on his way. He didn't have any doubt that card was going to feel like burning in his pocket.

He wondered how long she'd make him wait.
 
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