Esper James awoke in the arms of a lover - or so she assumed, given the tenderness with which she was held.

A brief inspection of her environs revealed that she was, thankfully, correct. Purity held her in her arms, still standing but allowing the weary little ghoulette to lean her full weight onto the taller of the pair. The room was silent, still, and in that most oppressive of ways... but there was something new in the air, something altogether different - and, to second-living senses, exciting. Blood. Meat. Food.

There, on the madame's desk, sat a plate of beef tartare. Sprinkled with green onions, paired with the traditional egg yolk, and surrounded by purposefully-shaped strips of crispy bacon, it was the carnivorous smelling salts that the flesh-hungry girl needed to draw her out of the faint all the more quickly. She fumbled her legs against the densely-carpeted floor to push herself to a proper stand, face turning upwards to flash a thankful grin to her girlfriend; then, she snapped her eyes back to the food.

Est was close by, and took EJ's hand as soon as it was apparent she was awake. The other Waywards kept enough distance to be respectful, but the concern on their faces was all too clear to the blonde, even from her peripheral vision. EJ, eyes glued to the tartare, dragged her tunnel vision laboriously upwards to the madame herself.

The woman in black's smile had faded to closed-lip position, but upon meeting emeralds with her own ambers, her fangs presented themselves all over again. She winked her right eye, leaning forwards in her seat - making the leather creak softly from the shifting of her musculature - and gingerly placed her fingers on the plate's edge. She pushed it towards the ghoulette an inch or so, eyes narrowing for a mere moment in a silent indication of amusement, before settling back into her throne once more.

"Go on, then. Eat. You ladies are my guests, right? What sort of hostess would I be to deny the kindness of meat to my own kin? The black blood we share may not be likened by breeding, but those cold-wombs are our single mother, Esper James. Plus, I owe Purity a lot. A lot. So, eat up. Get your strength back while your lover and I discuss."

EJ tried not to rush for the plate too quickly, every muscle fiber burning like an engine running too hot as she forced herself to proceed slowly. Thankfully, there was silverware - a knife and fork sat just beside the plate, and they were taken in hands that shook gently even as they strained to force stillness.

There was no chair, however, and the desk was altogether too low to easily eat at. There was no verbal solution given; no one in the room made any sound as they watched to see what Esper James would do, how she would solve this conundrum. The answer, however, was obvious: this madame liked to feel in control, right? Esper James knew how she was expected to behave around such women. She said nothing, didn't even look up, as her legs bent at the knee.

And then she was kneeling in front of her new patron's desk, the plate now at a perfect height for her to dig into its contents without the chance of accidentally spilling or dropping any onto the papers, or the floor, or herself. As soon as the first bite of that deliciously tender flesh hit her tongue, still moist with sauce and blood and mixed-in egg yolk, sound filled the room again.

The madame's velveteen syllables punched the air like a prize fighter's jabs, every impact hitting home with just enough force as to be heavy, but with enough crisp emphasis as to be clear and quick. She never stalled, never lingered, never made one weight for the hammer to drop... but never gave pause, either.

"My name, for you newcomers, is Khetnep. Khetnep Nephren-ka. You all, however, will call me madame while on the premises - and I will give you brownie points if that extends to any digital messaging. I have worked quite hard to establish my little dynasty here in Vitus; I would appreciate the respect I deserve." Khetnep crosses her legs, thigh over thigh, looking quite smug with herself; she never seemed to stop smiling, a Cheshire cat now presented with a bevy of mice.

She shifted her own gaze over to Purity, continuing after the briefest of pauses. "Purity worked for me in the past, and did fine work when she did. I wouldn't ask, nor expect, her to ever return to that sort of vocation. Especially not now, seeing as she's come to me with her own little harem of women. However." There was pause then, after that 'however', but it was definitive in a way that defied the idea that she had trailed off. She was putting emphasis on what came next.

"I will be clear with you all. This place, this oasis of mine in the heart of Vitus's most decadent neighborhood? I run a strip club first, brothel second. Other, darker things third and fourth and fifth... but none of that will involve you, much as the idea of selling literal nuns appeals to me." She drew her gaze away from Purity, now meeting and moving from each of the Waywards' own stares. Est, then Zofia, then Lucretia... and then back to Zofi, then finishing once again on Esthrielle.

The Easterners were doing their best not to seem shocked, or intimidated, or caught unawares - however, Zofia seemed the most out of her element. EJ shoveled more raw beef into her ravenous maw as she imagined what was going through the ex-nun's mind: fear, perhaps? No, Zofi didn't seem scared, per se. Concern? Surprise, maybe? Even a little excitement, and curiosity?

Given Zofi's nature, both as a researcher and an artist, Esper James wouldn't doubt the latter three emotions. A life of hedonic indulgence, the storied underground of organized crime and immoral excess, would surely delight the mind of anyone given to the arts - even if they had no intention or desire to participate themselves. EJ herself was, frankly, a bit excited at the idea of it all... and she wished she could punch her own chin for even daring to feel so positively about all of this.

It was like something out of a movie. EJ thought of her date with Judas - of their discussion of the Don Dracula films, and all the camp and comedy that those over-the-top flicks always brought with. This was every bit of that fictional life that the average citizen could only dream of, but in the flesh. They were speaking to an actual second-living, breathing, literal crime boss. A woman who had built an underground empire in the heart of the UNAC's largest and most populous city.

God. EJ couldn't help but choke on the bile that rose in her throat at the realization that she thought Khetnep was cool.

The criminal overlady continued then, crossing her arms in a moment of smug self-assurance. "So - the lot of you? You'll be given a room to yourselves. I've got some spares, no bodies to fill them... and they're pretty far from the bulk of my business, so you won't need to listen in to anything untoward. Oh, and Purity?" Her eyeline returned to Purity, locking glowing amber with luminous pink. Purity swallowed hard, standing up just a little bit straighter; her attentiveness made Khetnep snicker, and their staring contest was quickly lost as she rolled her eyes.

"Purity, you always told me you wanted to do more, some day. Some day when you weren't... under other obligations. Wanted to help with the girls, right? Keep them safe? Resolve, how shall we say, disputes?" Khetnep winked again, still seeming like she held all the pieces; EJ wouldn't have argued against that idea, either.

Purity's eyes widened, and plump lips the color of rosebuds split to reveal a smile of her own. She gave a quick and slight bow, just a momentary incline, her face smeared with the paint of elation. "Y-Yes! Yes, madame, thank you! I... I, ahem, ah. I have a lot I wanna say, and do, for the girls here. Keep them safe. Keep them fed. Thank you!"

Esper James wondered, then, what the implication was. Would Purity be a pimp? The madame had said that this was a brothel, after all, and God only knew Purity had plenty of experience in that sort of field. Knowing her, and the thoughts she had expressed to Esper James and Est, the layers and layers of emotion she held surrounding her life before becoming a fugitive... EJ couldn't help but feel a somber sort of thankfulness that, after all this time, Purity had a chance to help girls who were in a similar enough situation as she had been in. A chance to work through her own problems - one presented through the assistance of others. Maybe it was the meat in her maw that was doing her thinking for her, but Esper James figured it seemed pretty good, all in all.

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Est was silent. She, too, had a whisper of a grin on her face - the merest upturn of the edges of her lips, her own mirth almost entirely given through implication. She turned her head towards Purity, giving her a subtle nod of approval - which only caused Purity's own delight to be reinforced. No protest from her lovers... a job offer that didn't require her to fuck anyone for money, or do anything illegal (in theory)... it was amazing, she felt. Esper James could tell her heart was soaring in her chest from the scent of her blood beneath her skin.

Khetnep nodded to Purity, allowing the silence to linger that much longer. Eventually she broke it herself, her imperious visage shattered by a chuckle that was decidedly not that of a headstrong, powerful crime boss. "Haha, fuck, ha...! No, no, don't call me madame in here. Change of plans, I don't like that - we're friends, Purity, it feels weird hearing you call me that when it's just us ladies. Here, ah... Look, as much as I love being the boss bitch in charge of things twenty-four seven? This room is too stuffy now, haha...!"

And just like that, the immense killing pressure this woman emanated was cast out like an exorcism. Zofia released a sigh of relief, shoulders dropping to a more casual stance; Lucretia, too, let her eyes shut to be rubbed at. A switch had been flipped - the tension in the room went from taut as a snare drum to loose as a spare coil of rope.

Khetnep gestured to the Waywards, still snickering, her poise and grace tossed aside in favor of casual relaxation. "Hey, you three ladies! I told you all my name, and I know Esper James from the news. What about you? Who has the East decided to grace me with?" They looked amongst themselves with their eyes flashing, short-range comms apparently of no consequence. EJ, however, was hit with a stray icepick straight to her heart.

Oh, fuck, that was right. Khetnep had said something about her being on the fucking news. And a five million dollar bounty, was it? What the fuck was that all about? The tartare had been finished and its plate licked clean; silverware was placed down as gingerly as shaky fingers could, before EJ rushed to a stand and swung about to face Purity.

Purity was still beaming like the sun, and that lingered for a moment or two as she looked down towards EJ - but, seeing how serious Esper James had become, joy faded into cold seriousness. "Ah, EJ, what's up? You, ah... You look like-" The pinkette wasn't allowed to finish the rest of her sentence, not that whatever she would've said mattered, in the end. EJ's next utterance was unavoidable, and its weight was undeniable.

"Purity. Khetnep said I've got a fucking bounty on my head - and that my face is on the news. You... I mean, can you check your phone? I-I know you said we weren't having great reception in the convent, but, like...-" It was EJ's turn to be cut off as Purity gathered her into a tight embrace, smothering the blonde's face with all the softness that the taller woman could provide.

"EJ, sweetie... fuck. I... I... This is really hard for me to say, and if you hate me for it, just know, I deserve the hate. I understand if you're mad at me. I... knew, this whole time. My phone wasn't acting up in the convent. I couldn't tell you, or Est - because if I did, why would you ever have agreed to go? B-But... But with that kind of bounty?" Purity's voice snagged, the beginnings of tearshed catching her vocal cords like fishing hooks. She didn't begin to cry, not yet, but sobs were held just below the surface.

"With that kind of bounty...! You were a bargaining chip just waiting to be used! All three of us were! W-We, we were just sitting there, at the f-fucking beck and call of a woman only Est even really knew - a woman who got you fucking shot! She would've used you in a heartbeat, packed you up like bait and hung you out to dry to get a one-up on Tsang! I...!" No more words came, and from her shivering, Esper James could tell that Purity was fighting as hard as she could not to break down.

For Esper James, there was a cold rage that flickered to life in her heart - but, it was far from the only flame that bloomed within the pyre of her chest. Regret held hands with the rage that burned inside, and quickly surpassed its sister as it grew - regret for a great many things, small little bits and pieces that assembled into a great blaze all their own.

She regretted doubting Purity, first and foremost. Yes, Purity had lied. Yes, Purity had fucking lied, and lied about something so important and enormous that it was hard even now for EJ to process it... but Purity had been right to do so. She had been right to lie. Lying had saved Zofia's life, and very likely their own lives as well, and had freed them from the shadow of fear that would have loomed over their heads. If she had been up front about EJ's bounty, Est would never have been okay with leaving the convent. If Purity hadn't lied, they never would have figured out that Zofia was going to get killed. They never would have seen the mother abbess for what she was.

They would have gone on living as docile sheep, waiting for the slaughter whenever the abbess tired of their presence - or saw them as useful tools.

And so, she regretted doubting Purity. She regretted her lack of faith in the pinkette; she regretted second-guessing Purity's intentions, her actions, her plans. She regretted being such a little bitch about all this. Purity had lied, but... Esper James couldn't shake the idea that Purity had lied for their benefit; that Purity had lied because it was in all of their best interests to do so.

She buried her face as far as she could into Purity's warm, soft chest, snuggling in in some attempt to press herself as wholly to Purity as she could. They both needed the hug, really - the pressure of it, the feeling of skin-on-skin, the knowing and meaningful acknowledgement of one another's love.

There was no interruption for them. In the background of her mind, Esper James could hear Esthrielle introducing herself to Khetnep - then Zofia, then Lucretia. They discussed where they were from... Their lives before being nuns... Their reason for leaving the convent, and their hopes now that they were out. Lulu made a joke about working for Khetnep, even - and though Esper James could hear her giggle, she could also tell that she was more serious than her laughter would let on.

The jokes that followed, and the banter, and the laughter and commiseration, were all lost on the ghoul and her first-living lover. To them, the rest of the world may as well be dead - it may as well have not even existed, a shared hallucination in a two-party sort of solipsism. They drank in one another's embrace; they breathed in syncopation, one after another; they never even thought of letting go.

Eventually, the room was quiet again. Khetnep said something... and then further silence. She repeated herself once, and silence reigned yet again. The second repetition was when Purity tapped Esper James frantically, reluctant to release her but doing so out of some sort of necessity. EJ drew her face out of Purity's enveloping bosom to turn about, going to face Khetnep and actually pay attention to whatever the hell the crime boss was intent on saying to her. She could only assume that she was Khetnep's intended recipient, at least.

"Ahaha, ah... Okay, now that you aren't face-deep in Purity's breasts... ah, would you like to go to your room? Purity knows where it is - she will if I tell her the room number, anyways. It's a suite, too - plenty of room for you and your entourage." The mountainous woman raised a single well-maintained brow, the dark arch curved to display an innocent bit of curiosity. It was refreshing, Esper James thought in the back of her brain, to see the madame exist without the implication of dominance.

Blonde hair tousled itself as the head which held it bobbed. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you. We'd... We'd like some time to talk amongst ourselves, about a lot of things. Thank you, again, for giving us a place to stay." EJ's tone was a cold knife's edge against the warm, fresh volcano cake of Khetnep's casual questioning; the Waywards and the madame all shifted their expressions as it cut them.

Khetnep nodded, though not with nearly so much gusto or emphasis. "Alright. Purity? Room fifty. Take the staff elevator - don't want you girls being seen by any patrons. I'd get complaints for a month about never getting to see any of you on the floor... I'll, ah, I'll have food sent up. Now, if that's all, I've got paperwork to do."

As it would happen, that was all. The party of women exited their new patron's office, Purity once again taking the lead. No one said anything as they retread their steps down the hall, then descending that blackened stairwell... and once on the first floor, Purity directed them to an elevator. The inside was dingy, graffitied in excess with all sorts of random thoughts and lewd tangents, but EJ paid little attention to them. She simply took Purity's left hand, and Esthrielle's right, and squeezed them as tightly as she could without hurting them. They squeezed back.

Silence. Ding! Fifth floor. Time to go see their new accommodations.