Another Day On The Job (Closed)

The young woman walked calmly out of her last class of the day. Daylight hours, at least. She had twenty minutes to make it to the club. Ten minutes of that would be spent navigating the streets; the rest of that time would be spent getting into the night's costume and making sure all the other girls were ready too. Such a pain in the ass. They're almost all adults; can't they dress themselves on time? Her breath rushed out in a heavy sigh. She couldn't figure out why she still helped them. Robyn picked up her pace; it didn't matter how tough she was, the streets still weren't where anyone would want to be. She passed the train station, the grocer, and all of her usual landmarks.

Too much time had passed, but she still made it with plenty to spare. First thing she did was to apply more of her skin-tone lipstick. She knew her namesake hadn't shown at the school, but that didn't mean anything for the trip over, and what she didn't need was it showing at work. She looked up at the sign as she passed the front entrance. Darkest Intentions, it blazed. So tacky, the thought crossed her mind as she made her way around to the back entrance, where she could enter the backstage area without being harassed by patrons.

She didn't say a word to the other girls as she quickly stripped off her street clothes and slipped into her bunny costume. Black thigh highs and thong on first. A skin-tone bra that might as well not been there at all. Next were the white mini skirt and halter top. On top of it all was a black pseudo-corset dress with a red bow. She pulled her silver hair out of her normal twin-tails and brushed it straight. It felt odd and heavy when it was down, but the look worked better with the ears. Fucking bunny girls. Why the hell are they so popular anyway? Robyn asked herself as she slipped the headband into place; she stared into the mirror and added yet another few layers of lipstick to cover the namesake. There must be no mistakes, no chance of it being revealed. The ring wasn't important; she was registered as a blank. That's what they'd put it down to if she were discovered. Colored contacts slipped onto her eyes; Robyn would be red-eyed for this show. She smiled seductively as she pulled on her black gloves, each one reached up her arm, halfway past her elbow. They were one of the few things that wouldn't be stripped off during the show.

That smile had been the key to fix her emotional mask into place. It was part innocent, part seductress, and all designed to make the patrons think she wanted them and wanted to be undressing for them. It had all been coldly calculated out with ruthless efficiency when she first started. She had trained her body to memorize the routine, so other than controlling her ring, her body would be on autopilot - mind concentrating on anything less disgusting than the lechers staring up at her.

Five minutes. She looked around at the other girls and went to help the few of them that still couldn't dress themselves in a timely manner. Four minutes. She made sure everyone had on their make up. One more slicked on layer of lipstick. Three minutes. She strapped on her platform stilettos. Two minutes. They formed up into their groups of four and waited at the door to the stage. One minute.

A young man stepped out of the town car he'd rented for this meeting, opening the door for his two guests to exit the vehicle. The three were dressed in similar fashion, business suits, ties discarded after a hard day's work, polished appearance. One sported a fashionably short hair cut, the second was bald. The third, who had arranged this little negotiation, wore his long hair in a single braid down his back. All were handsome, though the long haired one was more beautiful than handsome and walked with a predatory grace the others didn't appear to notice.

The trio approached the club. It was relatively new, and these gentlemen did enjoy trying new things...as Karasu had found when he'd accidentally stumbled on photographic evidence of their drunken conquests. He flashed his ID to the bouncer, who nodded to a man inside. The men were led to a table near the stage, which had been reserved ahead of time. Karasu didn't fail to notice the approving glance Baldo shot him.

Taking their seats, the three turned their attention to the stage as the music started.

Her group was first tonight; there was no nervousness as the music started. That was their cue to burst onto the stage, and each girl was to hit her position on cue. That part went off without a hitch, the rest of their time on stage was independant. Each girl had her own routine, and Robyn's included utilizing her ring. She didn't need it, but the extra relaxation meant extra cash. The bunny girl was all smiles and motion as she blasted her ring and danced over to her pole; the sound itself was relatively quiet, like a low hum that wasn't even audible over the music, but the sound slipped through to the ears and caused her desired effect. Her bright grin shined down at the three tables closest to the stage; a few of the regulars who knew the game as well as she, that old geezer that always tipped well and his son, and three fairly new young guys that wore business suits. They'll probably be cheapskates, the thought fluttered by as she gave the pole a test spin while examining her audience. It never mattered how cute they were; to her they were just a source of money.


Her body picked up the beat of the music, moving with it instead of to it now. She could let her mind wander where it pleased now. The routine was choreographed and ruthlessly practiced, but she had taught herself well; the tricks on the pole now came smoothly, as did the seductive twisting, popping, grinding, bumping, and everything else. She started out fully dressed and dancing, inviting them to anticipate what came next.

Karasu followed 'protocol,' moving his eyes to each mark for the appropriate amount of time: legs for two seconds, hips three, breasts a full ten, ass another ten if turned toward him. But he faltered when his eyes fell on the girl in the bunny costume. He could barely contain the frown. Something was strange about her, and his eyes turned to her face instead of her breasts. That's when he heard the humming. A ring. The girl was...a fighter.

He could feel himself relaxing a bit, but that set off alarms in his head. She was using her ring on them. And there was something familiar about it. He looked away from her to the other girls, thinking. When had he felt that effect before?

Damien. His eyes narrowed. Her ring had the same effect on him that Damien'd had. He glanced back at her, knowing his guests were already so caught in her web that they wouldn't notice the glare he shot at the stripper. Not possible. She can not be the Trusted fighter... But then how could Karasu explain it? There was no denying the fact that this girl's ring effected him in ways that most rings didn't. Very few rings penetrated the mental blocks he'd erected when he was still a fighter. He usually only felt a sense of dis-ease around units. This...this effected him much as that blond blank had.

There was no way around it. This girl's ring was the Trusted ring. The other half of Karasu's unit...and it had to be a stripper. The glare didn't fade as a thin black filament hung in the air between them, wrapping around the fighter, giving her dance a new level that even Karasu could appreciate.

Everything went off without a hitch at first. Her audience had been teased long enough. Then she saw one of the three younger men glaring at her. He shouldn't be doing that. Why isn't he relaxed and enjoying himself like the others? Her mind divided itself: part focused on the apparently disproving male, the majority thinking about anything and everything less disgusting than this. Robyn brought her hands up and tugged lightly at the strings on her pseudo-corset. It slid down her arms and off to the floor of the stage.

A slow spin around the pole, a few sexy dance moves, and the loosely fastened halter shirt was starting to come open at the back. She heard the quiet sounds of them getting into the show-the ones that signaled a loud night later on when more skin was showing. She was visualizing a large meadow, empty of all other breathing beings; it was peaceful with just the flowers, trees, clouds, and the breeze. This kept her able to keep her ring at its most soothing.

Karasu closed his eyes, forcing his eyes to drift over the other girls on stage. This would not do at all. He needed to stay focused. But how in the name of all that was considered sacred was he supposed to do that with his fighter's ring doing its level best to break his concentration? He darted his eyes at his companions, hearing his name. "...don't you, Kobayashi-san?" He did his best to smile sheepishly at Baldo, though he secretly wanted to throttle both these high-rise pigs.

"My apologies, Hattori-sama. I admit, I was a bit distracted just now. What were you saying?" His voice was smooth as velvet and laced with a hidden poison; his own ring. Which he'd begun, as had been his nature for some time now, to use as a distraction so the men would assume the 'best' about his not paying attention to them. Sure enough, Baldo -er, Hattori- smirked knowingly at the long-haired man.

"I was just saying to Takemitsu-san that I think it would be much more fun to get that cute little bunny cornered and have some real fun with her. I asked if you agreed." The look Karasu shot the bald-headed man was withering, to say the least. His lips set into a thin line, and he blasted his ring to cancel out the bunny-eared fighter, hoping to alert her to the danger these men posed.

"Actually, I prefer the 'look, but don't touch' approach. It's far more gratifying to me to watch the show our little bunny has so lovingly coordinated for our enjoyment than it would be to break the spell and frighten the poor creature. Don't you agree, Takemitsu-sama? Isn't it better to let her enchantment be?" He was speaking loud enough, he hoped, to be heard onstage. In the few minutes he'd been distracted, these men had procured a full bottle of vodka...which was disappearing far too quickly for his liking.

Hattori frowned, not liking the look the other man had given him, or the sickly sweet tone of the man's voice. And why did he suddenly feel a bit uncomfortable under the man's gaze. The combined feeling made him respond in a louder voice than he would normally use. "Ah, don't answer him, Takemitsu-san. He just wants the bunny for himself. I know his type. Much better the two of us corner her and have our fun. Leave him high and dry."

Karasu was satisfied that the bunny must know now that these men were threats to her safety and turned to meet her eye. He lowered the level of his ring, hoping she understood that the sudden urge to trust him was a request, not a demand. And then he silenced his ring.

At first, Robyn couldn't figure out just what had changed, but something had gone wrong. The mood had shifted at the table with the glaring man. They'd procured alcohol, and it had a bad affect on two of them. Her mind came on about halfway; she'd need to keep an eye on them, but they posed no threat - yet. She continued on with her show, though; stopping would have made the situation worse. Plus, she'd handled bad patrons and drunks ones before, they were nothing new.

She stopped picturing her meadow - her ring being cancelled out was a huge shock, and her mind came fully online now. Who had done that, and why? The music was pounding, but she'd become used to that - her hearing wasn't superhuman, but it was good enough to hear just what was being said at the table where the mood had shifted. Her routine brought her close enough to listen without being in touching range - she hated being touched by anyone.

The halter top slid off, leaving her breasts covered by nothing more than the skin-toned strapless bra. The oafs were speaking loud enough that she could hear it all - did they think she was deaf? They had so little respect for her that they planned her rape where she (and other patrons) could hear. That made her furious, and a little frightened. How powerful were they? Or were they simply that drunk? Either way, unless they tried something onstage, she couldn't call for security - all she could do was dance and strip for them.

Self-loathing, disgust at the place and her position in it, pity for the other girls - they all surged through her making the soothing effect of her ring impossible, so she killed it completely. The younger man that had been glaring at her now caught her eye, and she felt that she could trust him, but she knew it wasn't real because it was gone the next moment. She looked over her shoulder at him and nodded once to the beat, looking for all the world that it had been part of the original routine with a sexy smirk plastered on her face as she did so. Her routine took her back to dance near the other tables, so she couldn't know what would happen at that one. All she could do was pray, and perhaps place her trust in another human being for once.

It was a little ridiculous to be flouncing around in a white skirt and that stupid bra when her nearly her entire body was covered in enough foundation and concealer to hide her scars. There was a tiny black string leading back to the odd young man when she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, but it was gone the next time she looked, so she put it down to exhaustion.

Karasu let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. So, his fighter had a brain. Good to know. "A word of advice, Hattori..." Deliberately dropping the honorific, as well as the whole charade, Karasu decided it was time to show these fools just what sort of trap they'd fallen into. Not only was this meeting requested by his superior, but it was requested with the thought of causing trouble for one of their competing companies. His smile was cold as he turned his attention back to the man.

"Never announce your lecherous intentions when the prey is so close at hand. That sweet little bunny is now fully aware of your intentions against her. I had hoped you were the sort of men I could reason--and do business--with, but it appears you are completely hopeless. Excuse me." And so he stood and made his way over to one of the club's bouncers, calmly informing the man that the other two members of his party seemed to have gotten the idea in their heads to rape one of the girls.

She had to force herself to continue with her routine as if it was another normal night. No one could know that anything had changed, but she couldn't resist following the odd young man. He had reported the table to the bouncers; he was able to do what she couldn't - get the would-be rapists kicked out before they acted. She moved with the music as dictated by the routine she'd spent hours learning and perfecting. After all, it wouldn't do for the patrons to know she couldn't dance. At all. However, she felt that she could afford to let her body do what it knew to do, so that Robyn could focus on the problem of the odd young man.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, Robby had placed her trust in a nother person. That fraction of trust had been repaid positively, causing her to wonder just who that young man was, and how he would affect her. Obviously, he was part of a Unit; the ring made that much obvious. Just what he was, though, was the issue. If he was her Sacrifice then he was a danger to her, if he was a Blank or part of a Unit with a related Name, she could pass off as the pathetically weak blank she was registered with as at the school.

Suddenly, Robyn wanted to escape. She couldn't hide from him forever, and the truth would come out eventually somehow, but she desperately wanted to put that time off as long as possible. Unfortunately, she couldn't leave the stage yet. Her group's time wasn't over, so the Fighter had to pretend she wanted to strip before his eyes and the eyes of the other patrons for a little longer. Panic and fear rose within her but were quickly squashed with a ruthlessness born of long habit, the hope and anticipation were killed even more swiftly. She did not want to feel anything; she didn't want to ever be that vulnerable, especially if the young man confronted her after the show. Most especially if he turned out to be her Sacrifice.

Karasu walked back to the table, bouncer in tow. As the security team started to pull the other two to their feet, he pulled out his cell and texted a reporter he'd been in contact with recently. The press would be right outside the door before these buffoons were escorted from the premises. Sitting down again, he pulled a thick stack of bills from his wallet and slid his business card in the middle of it. Then he flashed the money to the bunny-eared fighter to signal that it was for her. At that point, it was really only a matter of waiting for her to come back around to his table.

The skirt had come off, but she couldn't remember when. One more item to come off, and it was up to her to decide whether to even take it off. One of the few policies she agreed with in this dispicable place. The girls were never fully nude and decided just how much they were willing to take off on a nightly basis. Of course, more skin meant more money, but that was beside the point. Occasionally, it crossed her mind to find other employment, but she wasn't going to quit here until she found someplace better - at least she made money here.

She glanced at the odd young man whenever it was possible within the bounds of her routine. She nearly cheered as the would-be rapists were dragged off and bounced out of the club on their ears, in front of the paparazzi, no less! She managed to keep her body glued to the routine, but she was cheering on the inside - and if she had a small added glow to enhance her rountine, well that was just a bonus.

The men tucked money in where they could as she came within reaching distance. She hated to be touched, but the patrons liked touching, and that was how they gave her the money she came here for. As she danced, turning a few more tricks on the pole that she'd learned just for tonight, she spotted the odd young man flashing more money than she'd ever made in one night. It made her excited and more than a little suspicious. What does he want? She'd be near enough to reach out and grab him soon enough - she couldn't break routine, nor could she turn down that kind of money unless he wanted more than a show for it. One thing Robyn was determined to do was to rise above this gutter, and prostituting herself as well as stripping would have kept her here forever. Slinking more like a cat than a bunny, she approached his table, wary without it showing.

Karasu leaned forward the moment his fighter came within his reach. He spoke next to her ear as he slid the bills into her bra. "I'm so sorry for dragging you into this. I promise, I'll make it up to you." And then he was gone, taking his briefcase with him to the bathroom. He locked himself into a stall and undressed, hanging his clothes on the stall door as he unclasped his chest binder and briefcase. She quickly donned the bra, black jeans and shoulderless purple top, tucking the skinny jeans into the tops of the boots she'd been wearing the entire time. Sighing, she folded her work clothes and carefully packed them into the briefcase. She stepped out of the stall and was immediately greeted by a gawking old man who looked like he was about to have a heart attack. She smirked and blew him a kiss as she walked back out to the main room. Catching her fighter's eye, she made a quick bow and left the building. Of course, she didn't go far. She only went and sat on the hood of the town car, crossed her ankles, turned on her iPod, and waited.

She was within his reach, and he took advantage of it. The odd young man slipped the money into her bra, taking the choice of taking it off or not from her - it would have to stay on if she wanted to keep the money without an awkward transfer. She was surprised that he didn't try to cop a feel as he did it, but not shocked, since he'd acted out of the expected character all night. What did shock her was what he said. Had anyone ever apologized to her? Certainly not once she got out of middle school, and half the people who saw her didn't even see a human being any more. It was shocking enough that if she hadn't trained herself so well, she would have stopped and stared at the odd young man. Then he left. There was the bitter taste of loss in her mouth, which she ignored, turning her attention to counting the time she had remaining before she could dress normally again. The count down was still too high to cheer her up, but it was steadily lowering to zero.

If she hadn't been paying attention, had instead been in her usual mental state while dancing, Robyn would have missed it. A female she'd never seen around came out of the area the restrooms were, bowed, and left. She'd caught the Fighter's eye, so Robyn assumed the bow was meant for her. She turned the information over in her head. The woman's actions, along with her similar appearance to the odd young man lead her to one conclusion: the woman had been the young man. But what did she want? The Fighter nearly missed the cue to gather her clothes from the stage and leave, but thankfully her body knew the routine as well as it did; she was still completely lost in thought as she left with the others and saw the next group come out the door. All she wanted was to cover up or bathe; she could still feel the eyes on her even though they couldn't see her anymore.

She fairly ripped off the remains of her costume after stashing her money, those stupid ears first. Since it was only the girls to see, she wasn't as uncomfortable. She felt immediately better once her hair was back up in its usual twin tails. That had been what bothered her most about this particular costume. Next the contacts came out and the make up came off - all of it but the lipstick. It didn't matter that her scars were now exposed - the others had never asked and even pretended they didn't see. It was her business, and none of them were friends; the girls only knew each other's stage names, no numbers or real names. Black lace underthings, black tights of the sort you can't see through at all, a multilayered red plaid miniskirt, and a black tank top quickly covered her after all the foundation was removed. She tossed on a thin black sweater to hide her arms and laced up her boots. She applied more lipstick to make sure nothing could be seen of the mark, grabbed the bag with her money and what school supplies she had, and left out the same back alley door she'd come in through. She hadn't needed the tiny string to tell her that she'd probably have to talk with the woman/young man after she'd changed, but it did confirm it with the added bonus of leading her straight to the person she was seeking. Might as well get this over with. As far as she - he? - knows, I'm a blank using the ring. She - he? - can't have assumed that it's my Name; just like that person can't possibly be my Sacrifice. She didn't have to feel to know she was lying to herself, the very presence of the tie binding them - the one leading her right to her/him - was evidence enough. What she did feel scared the living daylights out of her before she cut it off, more out of habit and fear than anything else.

When the fighter came into view, Kara turned off her iPod and shoved it into her pocket. She jerked her thumb at the car and tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Get in. We need to talk, and here's too public." She walked over to the driver's side and got in, immediately buckling her seatbelt and pulling out the keys. It was a foregone conclusion that the girl would obey. Kara knew as well as any fighter that it was impossible to disobey your sacrifice. She'd hated it then, but now...she was counting on it.

When the girl finally slid into the seat beside her, Kara visibly relaxed and started driving. "Kobayashi Karasu. Trusted sacrifice. And you're my fighter. And you are not going back to that Hellhole. Understood? I may have to go to places like that to negotiate contracts, but I'll not have you flaunting your body for those fucking pigs." She pulled up in front of a large house with glass doors, reinforced of course. Shutting off the engine, she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out, starting up the walk. She dialed a number into her cell, and the front door swung open, lights turning on. "Come in, and lock the door behind you."

{Kara has left and gone to her house.}

Robyn had just rounded the corner - she hadn't really had time to do more than spot the young woman and walk closer. The female hadn't greeted her, but started ordering her around immediately. Just who does she think she is?! Robyn bristled and readied a comeback, only to realize that she was already getting in the car - and she couldn't stop herself. She fumed over that fact, coming up with various ways to get herself out of this mess, even as she buckled up and closed the door.

Just obeying because I'm tired. That's all. Even knowing it for the lie it was, she still clung to that belief because to do anything else would - wait what was she saying now? "Trusted sacrifice. And you're my fighter." Well she had to accept that one; hell she'd even proven it to herself, though she could still wish it wasn't true. Fury flashed through her and was cut off immediately - she did not need to be vulnerable in any way around this woman, well, more than she already was. Sacrifice she may be, but that is my job! She was also secretly pleased to have a reason to leave, but just how was she going to pay for...everything now? "And your suggestion for my alternate employment?" Robyn muttered more under her breath than actually speaking to this "Kobayashi Karasu" as they got out of the car and walked towards the house.

[Robyn has left and gone to the Kobayashi Home]