You arrive back at Coco and Velvet’s little store just in time to see Coco cheering about something. The girl hops up and down, hands high in the air, as expressive as they come and not at all afraid to show it. Velvet is more sedate as usual, watching from a short distance like the world’s most professional bystander.
“And the hero of the hour is back,” crows Coco as you enter the store. “You’re just in time, too.” She makes a show of drawing the curtain on the changing room back. “Voila!”
Emerald looks good.
Very good.
It’s amazing how much the clothes can change a person, especially when it’s covering up the scars of homelessness. You can see the little bits of Coco in the style, both the jacket and the glasses, but there’s no denying they fit Emerald well. Anyone who saw her in that wouldn’t ever believe she’d been on the streets.
“She looks great,” you say, and Emerald preens just a little. “But I hope my 1,000 lien went further than one outfit. If I find out those shades cost 500 lien…”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Coco says. “Don’t you sweat it, big guy. Your little friend here has at least six different outfits, not to mention the unmentionables.” She winks. “Which you shouldn’t mention. Though, uh, I have to say, you might struggle to carry all this.”
“Are you telling me spending this much doesn’t get me free delivery?”
Coco raises a single eyebrow. “This store doesn’t deliver.” Then, without a second thought, “but I’ll tell you what. Write down where you want it going and I’ll have my chauffeur make sure it gets there. Call it a freebie for giving us such a fun project. Today's been a snoozefest otherwise.”
“Coco,” says Velvet, “You’re not supposed to—”
“It’s fine, Vel. It’s fine. What does it matter at the end of the day? It’s not money coming out of our employer’s purse, is it?” She laughs, waving her hand dismissively. Velvet doesn’t look quite so pleased but gives up without a fight. “You should keep that outfit on, though. Your old clothes are a mess.”
“Mm.” Emerald nods, and then glances at you to ask, “Are we having lunch soon?”
Coco snorts. You sigh. “You are such a fiend for food.”
“Sounds like that’s a yes, babe,” says Coco, laughing it up. “Let’s just handle the matter of payment first, yeah? Velvet, you ring it up. Count it as your sale.”
Velvet recoils. “What? But you did all the work—”
“Ah, you know I don’t need the commission or bonuses.” Coco laughs it off again, throwing away the added money and respect from her boss like it doesn’t matter. And it doesn’t matter to someone like her, but to people like Velvet and Saphron it represents job security. It’s what keeps you in work. “You might as well take it.”
Velvet’s eyes are cast down as she runs your many purchases through the counter, and you can see her lips moving slightly, mumbling something under her breath. You imagine the commission for selling so much will be healthy, and she probably needs the money, but the way Coco goes about giving it to her smacks of pity.
Even if it isn’t, it likely feels that way to Velvet.
“That’ll be 1,000 lien, sir,” she says, voice emotionless.
You hand over your card and mentally imagine your bank balance dropping to 3,845 lien. Coco offers you a business card, one embossed in gold and black with ADEL across the front, for you to write your hotel room on.
There’s next to no chance someone as uniquely wealthy and famous as her would steal those clothes, so you’re more than confident they’ll be shipped to your hotel, and probably into your room as well.
“Well, we’d best be off for lunch,” you say, taking your card and the receipt. “Before Emerald’s stomach starts repurposing her spine for nutrients.”
“It’s about time for lunch, isn’t it?” Coco says casually, eyeing Velvet. “Hey, I know. Why don’t you have your lunch break now, Bun? You can eat with them.”
Velvet’s head whips about. “What?”
“I’m just saying you haven’t eaten yet, and we can’t both go eat at the same time and leave the shop unattended. You go have lunch. I’ll cover. Here,” she adds, pulling out a fancy-looking purse. “I’ll treat you—”
“I can buy my own fucking lunch, Coco!” Velvet snaps. The faunus flinches a moment later, as if frightened by her own voice, then grits her teeth and storms past Coco, ignoring the outstretched lien.
The door rings as it opens, and then slams shut behind her.
“…” Coco’s seemingly unflappable smile drops. “Vel…? Aw, come on, Vel, I was just trying to treat you.” It’s clear she isn’t coming back, and Coco sighs. “What did I do this time? I figured she’d enjoy an early lunch and some free food…"
>HELP VELVET: Find Velvet at the food court and take her side
>MANIPULATE VELVET: Tell Coco you’ll calm her but drive a wedge between them instead.
>HELP COCO: Explain what you believe she did wrong.
“I’m sure she’s just overreacting,” you tell Coco, giving your best “don’t worry about it” smile. “But you know what, how about I have a word with her on your behalf? Smooth things over for you? We’ll call it me returning the favour for arranging for Emerald’s clothes to be delivered to our room.”
“You’d do that?” Coco asks. “You’re a lifesaver!”
You ought to feel bad, but you can’t say that you do. Coco has every advantage in life, and while you were once the same, you’re not now, and you understand things more from Velvet’s point of view. Maybe it’s closer to jealousy on your part, with Coco flaunting her wealth, but whatever it is, you want to take something away from her like the world took something away from you.
You smile and close your eyes so she can’t see how amused they are. “Leave it to me.”
The shopping centre is still busy outside, but Emerald’s nose leads you unerringly to the food court, where numerous tables and chairs are set out surrounded by a green cloth divider, keeping the pedestrians out. There’s a counter at the centre, with numerous cakes, coffees, pastries, and other treats on display.
Emerald’s stomach grumbles.
It doesn’t take you long to spot Velvet at a table on her own, one elbow atop it and her hand cupping her face while the other nurses a cup of coffee. She looks frustrated, and you’re sure a lot of it is at herself. Velvet has the look of someone who can flick from anger at someone else to immediate self-blame. You slip Emerald 30 lien and nudge her toward the counter.
“I’ll have a coffee. Black. I’m not hungry, but you can get yourself whatever you want but within that price. We’re running on a budget now.”
“A budget?” she asks, suddenly worried. “Do we have enough—"
“Relax. You’ll still be fed every day. And that’ll be enough to keep you full until we reach the hotel.” There’s a sizeable line at the counter, which serves you well. You don’t think Emerald would ever dare interrupt you talking with Velvet, or torpedo your efforts, not when your success means her continued comfort, but you also don’t really want her to see the more manipulative side of you yet. “Go on. And take your time. I’ll wait for you.”
As Emerald scurries off to join the line and drool over the food, you make your way to Velvet’s table, and announce yourself by drawing out the chair opposite her. She looks up, and you were right. The anger is gone. It’s all self-recrimination now.
That won’t do.
“I really made a scene back there, didn’t I?”
“A little. But I think it was more than deserved on your part.” You watch her brown eyes widen. “Coco was out of line, and she was treating you like you’re incapable. That’d get on anyone’s nerves. Is that a thing that happens often?”
“All the time,” she grumbles, regaining just a little of her fire now that she has you to tell her she’s justified in it. It amuses you to realise she needs that. Velvet is the kind of person who needs someone to have her side, and to give her permission to feel upset. “It’s… Gah.” Her head slumps. “I know she cares for me, and I know she’s just trying to be a good friend but… but…”
“But she keeps belittling you. Treating you like you’re helpless without her.”
“Yes!” she says, head rising. “Yes, that’s exactly it! No one ever gets it when I say it, but that’s it!”
“I have experience with it,” you say, sighing off to the side. “Believe it or not, I used to be as rich as Coco. My family was a big deal in Atlas, before daddy-dearest lost it all indulging in excess. Now I’m here in Vale working my way up from the bottom. It’s an eye-opening experience.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologise. I didn’t mention that to trauma dump on you. It’s just that I know what it’s like because I’ve been there. On both sides. I used to see the world like Coco did. The average folk, the plebians, they’re a different species. Or that’s how it looked. I just didn’t understand them or how they lived. I couldn’t. No more than you can understand how Coco lives.”
“Hmm.” Velvet lets her guard down a little, her ears relaxing and looking just a little less tense. “It feels like that sometimes. I always try and tell her how she’s upsetting me, but she always laughs it off and waves her hand. Like it doesn’t matter.”
“But it does,” you say. “It matters, and Coco is wrong to treat it like it doesn’t.” You glance Emerald’s way, but there’s still time. “You know, she still didn’t get it when I left? Acted like you were being unreasonable, and like you should have been thrilled at a free meal.”
Velvet growls out a “That’s so typical of her…”
“Hmm,” you agree. “As if you’re so poor that you can’t afford lunch.”
“Like I’m so useless that she has to make it so every sale she does goes through me,” she adds, taking an irritated and hasty sip of her coffee. “That happens all the time, you know? Every sale. The boss even took me aside to talk to me about it – she thought I was stealing from Coco and changing the numbers, so I got all the credit. It was humiliating!”
You hum again to show you’re listening, and Velvet descends all too quickly into a few other stories of a similar nature. Of Coco’s idea of charity, of her always trying to look after Velvet, of her infantilising the faunus across from you with her actions.
It’s all well-meaning, you know, and you’re sure Velvet does as well. Coco isn’t a bad friend; she’s simply an overly confident one, and that makes her come across as pushy. You’d count yourself lucky to have someone like Coco looking after you, but Velvet isn’t you.
Velvet is a cute faunus you’re looking to take advantage of.
“Like, I don’t know what to do sometimes,” she continues, running out of steam. “I keep telling her she’s driving me up the wall, and she keeps doing it. I’d take different shifts if I didn’t know she’d find out and follow them. The boss – our boss – is terrified of her, and Coco hasn’t even threatened her. She’s just terrified of upsetting someone so important. I doubt I can even be fired at this point because our boss wouldn’t want to upset Coco or the Adel empire. I feel… I feel like…”
Velvet struggles to find the words.
“Like a child wrapped up in safety gear with a helmet on?” you offer.
“Yes!” Velvet growls it out. “I feel like I’m a child being watched over by an overprotective parent who won’t let me go outside until she makes sure I’m wearing a hundred different layers. I can’t even buy my own food. It’s always: `I’ve got this` or `this one’s on me`… like it’s ever not on her.”
“Sounds stifling,” you say. “I’d have lost my temper ages ago.”
“I know she means well. That’s the problem…”
“Makes it hard to push against her. I know what you mean. I bet it’s impacting your confidence as well, even if you don’t realise it. Having Coco take every problem out of your hands doesn’t give you the chance to solve them yourself.” Velvet nods eagerly, thrilled to have the ear of someone who understands. And you do understand, even as you subtly weave your way into her orbit. “It sounds to me like you need to get away from her a little bit.”
“Ah… well… I don’t want to ditch her… Coco is still my friend.”
“Oh, I agree completely,” you say. “What you really need is a chance to prove her wrong. Show her there’s more to you than some helpless little bunny rabbit that needs looking after.”
“…” Velvet considers that, and then nods. “Yes. That’s what I need.”
“Must be hard to get that in retail. The Adel family kind of rules all this.” You tap your finger on the table, as if you’re deep in thought. “I might have something that could work out for you but… no.” You glance away. “You wouldn’t be interested.”
Naturally, Velvet’s ears stand up straight.
“What?”
“You wouldn’t be into it,” you say, dismissively. “It’s a little out of your comfort zone.”
“My comfort zone is plenty big,” she argues, and you both know she’s lying. “What is it?”
“Well, Emerald and I have started a little business venture of our own. Two people who need to earn money in this horrible city we call home. Emerald is my first employee, full-time, but I’m on the lookout for part-time work. It’s the kind of job someone like Coco just couldn’t do.”
Mostly because of her fame and name. The Adel family would have a fit if she featured in pornographic content. Velvet, of course, leans in, immediately latching onto the idea of something she can do but that Coco can’t.
“What is it?”
You meet her eyes. “Adult videos.”
“Adult—” Velvet gasps, leans back and almost shouts out, but then catches herself at the last second to lean back in and whisper, “Porn!? You do porn?”
“We prefer the phrase adult entertainment,” you lie. It is what it is, but you think she’ll be more likely to accept the safer phrase. “And it’s a new venture but we’re confident in where we’re going. It’s acting, at the end of the day. A lot of people mistake it for sex, and that’s involved, but it’s all make-believe. It’s a job like any other.”
“I… I guess… but…” She looks around, but you’re both being quiet enough to not be heard. “Isn’t that a little… weird…?”
“It’s a job,” you repeat. “Not unlike faking enthusiasm for customers in a clothing store. The hours are better too, and it’s flexible work. More than that, it’s very private work. Coco wouldn’t be able to butt her way in and start taking over.”
Velvet laughs shyly and tugs one of her ears down. “Ahah. You can’t… You can’t be suggesting I’d star in something like that. Ahah. I’m… well, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“What does that mean?”
Slut, you imagine, but you press on her, knowing she won’t have the guts to say it. Sure enough, Velvet winces and gives a more depreciating answer. “I’m not pretty enough. No one would be interested in someone like me. I’m plain.”
It’s an excuse. You know that’s not the real reason she’s reluctant.
But you pretend it is, reach across the table and take her hand between yours. Velvet freezes like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car.
“Velvet,” you say, voice low. “You need to step out of Coco’s shadow.”
“T—That’s not what I—”
“You think you’re plain because you’re comparing yourself to her,” you continue, interrupting her. Velvet’s brown eyes widen slightly, and you know you’ve hit the nail on the head even if she didn’t realise it was there. “It’s to be expected. Coco works with you, and people always gravitate to her, either because of her looks, or her style, or her confidence.”
“I… well… yes…”
“That’s the thing, Velvet. All of those come from her money. The best skincare, the best stylists, the best clothes. You are pretty – you’re more than pretty enough to turn heads – but you’re comparing yourself to a standard you can’t afford to match. Literally. Coco probably spends more on her beauty regime in a month than you earn in a year.”
“She does,” mumbles Velvet, eyes down. “I’ve seen what she uses…”
“It’s hitting your confidence,” you say. This time, she doesn’t argue. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Every day, you’re forced to compare yourself to her, and she’s a better saleswoman, a better stylist, and everyone is swept up by her enthusiasm. How could you not feel inferior? You never get a chance to shine. You never get a chance to show what you can do, either to her or to yourself.”
“…” Velvet’s ears droop.You release her hand, take a napkin, and write your number down on it. “Here. I know it sounds crazy, and I know it may be a bit of a shock but give it some thought.” You slide it across the table, and you’re pleased by how Velvet doesn’t hesitate to take it. “Feel free to call me – even if it’s just to talk about your options, or just to talk in general.”
The girl nods slowly. The idea is planted, and you know it will spread roots on its own. Whether she accepts or not is ultimately up to her, but you know that the moment she goes back to work, Coco will start smothering her with apologies and affection and misplaced attempts to win her over.
And it’ll all drive home the points you’ve made.
“I’ll think about it,” promises Velvet. “But… I… I need to go clear my head.” She pushes her chair back and stands, but, before she leaves. “Did you mean what you said…? About me… not being plain…?”
“Velvet, you’re a beautiful young woman,” you say. “You just need the confidence to show that, and you need people to tell you it. I guarantee our customers will adore you. And, as strange as it might sound, seeing all those strangers complimenting you can be a big confidence booster.”
“But, most of all, it’ll be a chance to prove once and for all that you don’t need Coco to help you every step of the way. It’ll be a chance to show her that you can earn plenty of money on your own, and that you always could have.”
Velvet looks down at you, swallows, nods, and then scurries away.
Her cheeks are dusted pink as she goes.
Emerald returns a nanosecond later, setting down a tray laden with enough sugary treats to give her heart disease. “Did I miss something?”
“No,” you say, accepting your coffee. “Nothing much. Dig in.”
The waif of a girl beside you needs no further encouragement and dives into her meal with gusto, ramming things into her mouth with little to no sophistication. You let it go, knowing how much it means to her, and focus instead on your coffee. It’s cheap. Bland. Strong, though.
There’s still time before the evening and another chance to record a video with Velvet. You’re low on money, and you can get your first video edited and posted as soon as you get back, but it would be a waste not to make use of the afternoon.
The question is, what to do…?
Even if you don’t need to spend money, it wouldn’t hurt to have a look around. Visit some places. Perhaps even get an idea of the pricing at the brothels or visit and watch a slave auction to see how that goes.
Or, really, anything at all.
The afternoon is yours…
>Check out a local bookstore and see what smut sells the best
>Post negative reviews about the electronics store and mention a blonde female employee
>Prowl the most visited areas for beacon academy students
“We’re going to swing by a bookstore before heading back to the hotel,” you tell Emerald. It’s hard to say if she hears you, but you hope the words worm their way past the sounds of her stuffing her face. You really do need to teach her basic manners at some point. “We’re going to see what’s popular in the erotic market and use that for a little… market research. See what kinds of plots and stories people are really into nowadays.”
“Mmph!”
“Just to be sure, you can read, right?”
“Mm.” Emerald stops to scowl at you. The effect is undone somewhat by the sparkling icing on her chin. “I’m not an idiot!”
“Sorry. Sorry.” You have no idea what kids learn in orphanages, only knowing they exist because of the occasional charity runs your family did with them. They’re the less fortunate, even among the other less fortunate, and while you did feel bad for their situations, it’s impossible to truly empathise. To pretend otherwise would be an arrogance of its own. “I just wasn’t sure how good your orphanage was. I wasn’t insulting you.”
“Mm.” Emerald swallows a little more. “It was okay,” she says. “They tried their best.”
“I suppose that is all anyone can ask. Anyway, we’ll swing by the bookstore and then head back to the hotel. It’ll be your job to pack your clothes away, and then you can have dinner while I edit and post out video online. But, tonight, we need to film another one. We must keep the updates coming steady if we want to build a reputation.”
Emerald grunts something around her food that you think is meant as an agreement, or an acceptance. It doesn’t matter which. A benefit of spoiling her so much today is that she’s in a good mood now and will likely agree to anything not too horrific out of a sense of debt to you. Luckily for her, you’re not planning anything with whips, chain, and pain.
It takes Emerald another five seconds to finish her food, but then five minutes to sit off the stomach-ache afterwards. Her body isn’t used to so much food, let alone this much sugar, and you’ve heard there can be real problems overfeeding a starving person. It doesn’t look to be that bad thankfully, and she’s able to move before long.
Even so, you decide it might be a kindness to let her sit on one of the many benches that run in the centre of the hallways of the shopping centre while you peruse the bookstore. By this point, you know there’s little to no chance she’ll run away. Emerald is committed now, and the promise of a hot dinner later far outweighs the cost of spreading her legs for you.
Tukson’s Books is yet another small alcove of a store, and this one is narrower than even the clothing store from before. It’s quite obviously the cheapest retail lot in the centre, but then you suppose books don’t bring as much profit as clothes. No one walks into a bookstore and offers 1,000 lien for a bookshelf makeover.
The interior of the store is cosy enough, with several shelves running down the walls with a small table of “best sellers” in the centre. Autobiographies of celebrities and successful businessmen and women for the most part. Nothing you’re interested in. There’s a counter at the back, and behind that a large man with dark hair.
He’s not what you’d immediately peg as a “bookish person” but appearances can be deceiving. You’re a little disappointed it isn’t a cute girl, but it’s not like Vale has some law putting only women in customer service roles.
“Welcome to Tukson’s. I’m Tukson. This is my store, but if you needed me to tell you that then you probably can’t read, so I’d be asking why you’re here.” He grins at you. “You’re a new face.”
“I’m new to Vale.”
“That explains it. I tend to remember my regulars.” He smiles, and you’re surprised by how genial a man so large and muscular can look. “I take it you’re not another student from Beacon U, then? I usually get them coming on down.”
“For textbooks? Don’t they have their own library?”
“From what I hear, the books get rented out near none-stop and it’s a nightmare getting hold of them.” He must have gotten that from his regular customers. It makes sense. Beacon probably has a thousand students, and they’re not going to have a hundred copies of each book. “It’s easier for them to come down and order it from me, and when you’re already paying the kind of money it costs to get into that place, you know better than to be cheap on reading material.”
“Makes sense. I’m after material of a different kind.”
“Fantasy?”
You shrug. “Of an adult variety.”
“Ah, I get you.” Tukson doesn’t bat an eyelid. “There’s a whole shelf down back for that kind of stuff. You’d be surprised how popular it is here, but then I guess everyone is so stressed out from work that they need something to help them unwind.”
That’s good to hear, since you’ll be relying on the same urges to keep your customers coming in. “I’m actually kind of in the industry myself,” you say, “and I’m here looking for ideas on what’s hot at the moment.”
“You an author?”
“More of a… content creator.”
Tukson smirks. “Online?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t judge. Not here in Vale of all places. A man’s got to do what he has to do to make ends meet. Plus, ahah…” He scratches his cheek with one finger. “It’s not like I haven’t visited a few such places myself. There’s no Mrs. Tukson to answer to.”
He’s unusually forthright. Maybe it’s a guy thing. Does this make you his “bro” now? It could just be the fact he’s running a bookstore that caters in some way to smut. You imagine he’s had his preconceptions broken down a long time ago, and he likely knows a lot of middle-aged, married women who read erotica.
“I won’t be one to judge either,” you say, “but can you tell me what’s popular at the moment?”
“I could,” he says, leaning on his counter, “but I’m running a business.”
You can’t expect anything different. “How much?”
“I’m a fair man. You buy something and I’ll tell you what the biggest-selling kinks are right now. At least in terms of the erotica I’m selling. It might give you an idea of what’ll work well online.” He pushes a book on the counter toward you. “Latest autobiography trash. It’s only 10 lien. I wouldn’t even stock it, but he’s a big deal here in Vale, and it’s kind of been forced on me if you know what I mean.”
You know. It’s not uncommon for the arrogant rich to get it in their heads that people should want to hear their life story. No one does, but that doesn’t stop the narcissists trying. Most hire ghost writers to spice up an otherwise boring life, but some are so sure of themselves that they write the books themselves.
They’re never good, but that doesn’t stop outlets being made to stock them, because the authors throw big money around. To them, it’s not about making a profit. They’re already rich. It’s about selling so many books that you can boast to your rich friends about how your autobiography is a best-seller or made it onto the Vale Top 100 lists. It’s an ego move, and whether or not the book makes a loss is immaterial.
Either way, this book only costs 10 lien so it’s not a bad deal to get an idea on the erotic market.
He rings your card through the machine and bags the book for you.
“Sell it on if you like,” he says. “But trust me, don’t read it. You’ll lose brain cells.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. So, the biggest kinks on the market?”
He nods and comes around from behind his counter, waving you to follow and leading you to the shelves containing the erotica. There’s a lot of them, most tastefully arranged with covers that hint at sordid vices but never explicitly show it.
“Typically, there’s always a market for adult content no matter the situation,” Tukson says, “but the trends and tastes change as you might expect. You’d be surprised how much the news and economy affect that, too. There was a scandal a year back where a teacher in Beacon was sleeping with a student. Bam! Instant deluge of teacher-student erotica on the market. On porn sites, too. That trend has passed by now, but it’s not a bad idea to keep an eye on current events.”
“The big things now, however, are cheating, male domination, BDSM, and incest.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Incest?”
“Oh, you know it’s never real,” Tukson says, laughing. “But the fake shit is all over the internet. It’s always step-bro or stepmom or some shit adjacent to that, and they barely ever look like they’re really related, but it’s big. You can't so much as visit a site nowadays without someone's related-but-not-really-related fantasy. If you want to corner that, it’d be even better if you could find two people who looked somewhat alike. It's not very convincing when their hair, eyes, and skin colour are all different. Anyway, it's big at the moment. Our bestseller this week is about a son seducing his stepmom away from his father. Combines both the incest angle and cheating.”
“Cheating is, as always, one of the most prolific kinks in erotica. Read any of these books and you’ve a 50-50 chance that it’s a woman tired of her boyfriend/husband being swept away in a torrid affair. It’s a power fantasy for the guys too – the idea that you’re such hot shit you can steal another man’s girl. It’s naughty, it’s kinky, and most of the people who read it would never dare try it, but that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s escapism. Why read or watch something that you could do yourself?”
“True. And I assume the BDSM and male domination is self-explanatory.”
“The BDSM certainly is, and it can crossover with the other. Just keep in mind maledom means domination, not a couple of harsh words and a half-hearted spank. The books that are selling well are about women well and truly surrendering or losing all control. Think collars, chains, whips, and blindfolds. It’s not about a guy being a tough bastard; no one is interested in watching a guy bludgeon his wife with a golf club. It’s about the woman being at the mercy of a suave and sensual man who knows what he’s doing and can leave her shaking. Power dynamics."
It's valuable information, and well worth the 10 lien you paid. The tastes and trends will change, obviously, but you wonder if keeping in touch with Tukson won’t be useful in the future. "I take it you're regularly on top of this. Mind if I stay in touch?"
“Hey, you come and buy, and I’ll be happy to help you out. Though, you know,” he grins. “I wouldn’t mind seeing what you make. Got a link yet?”
“Our first video will be going up tonight. The studio is called is Joker’s.” You’d give him your card if you had any, but you’re sure he can find the site on his own. “We’re new right now, but I may have already convinced a second girl to star already.”
“Really? Hah. I’ll have to check it out. I’ll tell you what I think next time—”
The tiny bell above the door rings as it opens. You step aside, politely, allowing Tukson to be seen by the person entering, and for him to see them in turn. It must be a regular because he doesn’t say anything. Just raises his hand in greeting and smiles. You feel someone come up behind you and step away from the counter with a polite smile.
“Don’t mind me. We were just talking. You go ahead.”
The girl watches you out of the corner of her eye. They’re yellow, or maybe closer to amber, and very, very sharp. Her entire expression is, carrying something of an irritated pout that you think might be more her neutral resting face than anything aimed at you. Even annoyed, she’s undeniably beautiful. Slim, but with a good figure and pale skin, long, dark hair and bright eyes.
The school uniform looks good on her, too. You guess it's from Beacon, since you haven't seen anyone else around Vale wearing it, and it looks expensive.
“…” Her black hair brushes against your arm as she walks by you. You notice the triangular cat ears above her head flick in your direction, and then back to Tukson. “Thank you.”
“Blake. Good to see you.” Tukson smiles, and you’re welcomed with the sight of a smile from the beauty in front of you as well. It’s cool, but not cold. More reserved. Even so, she seems relaxed around this man. “How is your mother doing?”
“She is… doing okay…”
There’s hesitation there, and Tukson doesn’t miss it. “Are things all right?”
“It’s nothing.” Blake shakes her head. “Mom is doing that thing again where something is up, but she doesn’t want to worry me and get in the way of my studies.” The way she says the last part makes it clear she’s quoting. "Getting anything out of her is like drawing blood from a stone.”
“It’s not work problems, is it?”
“Like I said, I don’t know. She’s still in work, so I assume it isn’t, but it’s not like she’ll tell me either way. I wouldn’t mind if you asked—”
“Ah, your mother would see right through that. She knows you and I talk.”
Blake sighs dramatically. “There goes that idea. I just wish she’d realise it worries me more when she tries to be vague.” As if remembering your presence, standing nearby listening in, she straightens and clears her throat. “Anyway, that’s not why I came.”
“Here for your order, I take it?” He picks something out from under his desk and sets it down. A set of books all wrapped in packaging tape with a little paper tag on it. “They came in this morning. As promised.”
“You’re as reliable as ever, Tukson. Thank you. How much do I owe you?”
“All told, that’ll be 200 lien. I can waive postage since yours happened to coincide with another delivery.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you sure? I don’t mind paying—”
“Paying for what?” He laughs. “I got them delivered for free on the back of the other order, so I’m charging you for how much it cost me. Nothing.”
The girl, Blake, smiles faintly. “I guess I can’t complain then. 200, you say? One second.” Blake reaches into her pants for her purse. “I have it somewhere.”
>Step in and offer to cover it for her.
>Stay quiet and let her pay.
The girl fishes out her money and pays with a faint smile. You’re not sure what she’d have thought of you stepping in to pay, but you hold back anyway. Money is tight, and you can’t afford to spend it recklessly.
Even so, you don’t quite want to let the opportunity go. “I’m Joker.”
Her ears twitch and flick, and she half-turns. “Excuse me?”
“Joker,” you say, offering your hand. “I’m new in Vale. Thought I’d check out the local bookstore since I’m an avid reader.”
She’s clearly a little unsure about the random guy introducing himself, but you’re being perfectly polite and that seems to win her over. Or at least earn you the touch of her hand, as she slides it into yours. Her skin is remarkably soft.
“Blake. I’m a student at Beacon University.”
“I’ve heard of that place. It’s expensive, isn’t it?”
“The tuition is, yes, but we get room, board, food, and everything else we might need.” Her eyes slide to the package in her hands. “Except for textbooks.”
“It must be hard. The city is ruthless when it comes to money. Do you work part-time?”
“Is that any of your business?”
“I didn’t mean to be rude,” you say, holding your hands up before you. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what it’s like living here. You know, getting a job and all.”
Blake eyes you oddly. You’re not sure why, but she’s been on edge the whole time.
“I really need to go,” she says. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Uh.” You’re losing her. Already? Why? You consider asking her to stay or talk, but you can tell that isn’t going to work from how she’s acting. “I guess I’ll see you around sometime?”
“Maybe,” she says, and walks away.
You watch the girl go, her pleat skirt swaying behind her, hanging just low enough to cover her buttocks while hinting at everything. Your eyes must have been a little too obvious however, as she glances back and tugs her skirt down, clearly having felt you watching her. The door closes behind her as she goes
The bell rings her departure.
“Don’t be getting any ideas,” says Tukson, grinning your way. “Don’t know whether you’re looking for a fumble or someone to star in a video, but I guarantee she’ll be neither.”
That’s almost certainly the case now, but things change, and no one can predict what the future holds. For a girl that beautiful, you think you wouldn’t be afraid to put in a little effort. People would eat videos of her up.
“You know her, then?” you ask.
“Blake Belladonna. Daughter of an old friend of mine. Her old man died a few years back, but her mother and I are old friends. Dated once, though it didn’t work out.” He shrugs, not too upset about it all. “I won’t say I’m a father figure to her because that’d be a lie, but I know her well enough to say you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“I got that feeling. Why did she act that way around me?”
“I’d hazard it’s the way you’re dressed.” He points to you, and you look yourself up and down. You’re dressed well. Decent clothes you salvaged from home. Tukson chuckles when you don't get it. “You’re dressed fancy, Joker. Expensive. And the way you hold yourself and talk, it smacks of a rich kid from a big family.”
Which you are. “Is that a problem?”
“With Blake, yes. Yes, it is.”
“Why?"
“Blake's a student at the university. PolSci. Political sciences,” he adds, at your confused expression. “Wants to enter government and reform the city. Change the way it all works. Big dreams, that one, and she’s often hosting or attending rallies against city corruption and excessive wealth. Blake fires people up about how we should throw down the filthy rich and take back our freedoms.”
You take that in. Put simply, she’d be the worst enemy of the person you used to be – and to the person you want to be. Blake would hate the old you, and she’ll likely hate you now as well for wanting to win back that money.
It’s little wonder she judged you in advance.
“An anti-capitalist, then?”
“Something like that. More focused on fighting the way the rich have power and flaunt it than she is hating anything that makes a profit. She wants a more equal society where everyone can expect a fair wage, equal rights, and where things like the company-run settlements are abolished. Or at least put under stricter laws.”
Big dreams. Impossible dreams. The people who would stand against her are the very companies who make most of the money on Remnant, and they wouldn’t be afraid to use some of that wealth to deal with her. It could be framing her for a crime, discrediting her, pressuring her and her family, or even just hiring entire PR and media crews to spend all their time making attack-ads against her.
Given most of the government is in the hands of, or taking bribes from, the big companies and rich families as well, they could just lock her away in some dead-end job and never let her progress, and that’s if they didn’t just fabricate some legal charges and throw her in prison.
“There’s next to no chance she’ll get into government with that attitude,” you say. “Does she realise that?”
“I know.” Tukson lets out a sad sigh. “The city is corrupt. They all are. Problem is, Blake thinks she can do something about it, or that she should at least try. Her efforts aren’t exactly big enough to have made her any enemies yet, but I do worry for the future. I’m hoping seeing politics for how it really is at the university will make her realise she can’t change the world so easily, but she’s a stubborn one. Gods, but she’s stubborn. Just like her old man was.”
If Blake wants to get into politics and revolution, then you doubt she’ll be interested in porn. Her future detractors would use that against her, and you can’t even imagine how badly an election campaign would be sunk by videos being discovered of you doing porn. Her wealthy opponents would have all the resources they’d need to dig those up as well.
And, if she’s really that against the exploitation of the masses, then she might not be up for being exploited for money by those same wealthy clients. Tukson is right; you’re barking up the wrong tree.
Which means you’ll need to either cut that tree down or move Blake somewhere else before you make an offer. Either way, that’ll take time. You doubt she’ll be as easy to convince or trick into this as Velvet, and she’s not as desperate as Emerald that you can pick her up with money or food.
But if you could get her, then you’re sure those same rich people she insults would pay anything for a chance to throw her words back in her face. You could see them lining up for a chance to make her take their money and let them fuck her. Or, better yet, one of those rich families she hates so much might pay big money to own her as a slave and make her wait on them hand and foot in a frilly maid uniform.
When you can buy anything, it’s as much about the pleasure of putting someone down as it is having sex with a beautiful woman. For the chance to break the pride of someone like her, certain people would pay serious money.
“That’s a worrying look on your face, friend,” says Tukson. “Look, whatever you’re thinking, keep it to yourself. I don’t want Kali on my back because she thinks I upset her daughter or set some porn director up to stalk her.”
“I’m not going to stalk her, Tukson.”
“Good. Because Beacon U has serious security, and you’d be kicked out faster than you could draw breath. That is not a place you want to be caught without permission.”
“Don’t worry. Being arrested isn’t in my plans. Besides, I have a studio to run. I should head out. Thanks for your help.”
The faunus waves you off and encourages you to return, which you might just do if you can get a chance to meet girls like that one again. Outside, Emerald is lounging on the bench holding her stomach with a blissful smile on her face. Her eyes open when she hears you approach, and she hops up.
“Dinner?”
“Your lunch hasn’t even settled.”
“But we will have it, right?”
“Yes, Emerald. We’ll have dinner. Now come on. We need to head back so I can edit and post this video of ours.”
Author's Note:
Original Quest: https://fiction.live/stories/Running-the-Red-Light/z3DQkYE5X8YBXovZ8/home
Visual Novel: https://andoravn.itch.io/running-the-red-light