I never said that I want this,
This burden came to me,
And it's made it's home inside

@lylasbisa - outfit

It was good to focus on work, for once. Not on stupid fake feelings or exams or anything of the sort. He had one goal here, and that was business. Rosa had helped him set up this place. He'd scouted out the location over Christmas break, laid out the plans, and when he came back it was only a matter of flipping a switch to have it set. Of course, by now she was familiar with how he san his business. They'd been friends for years, he was the only person he would openly admit to being a friend. So of course, when she told him under no uncertain circumstances that she would be the club's manager, he'd only lit up a fag and shrugged. Settled. She was studying business, after all, and while he knew what to do, it was a useful thing. Besides, he trusted Rosa, and she was terrifying when she wanted to be. All the better for keeping everything in line. He was stilly tying off loose ends, he needed someone steady controlling things here for when he didn't show up. There was all the money pouring in and out, there were his security guards who already knew her. There were fights to arrange, numbers to keep up with, fighters to manage and scout to come fight. That was only the work here and this was supposed to be a side job. Yeah, he did still do the whole information bartering thing. It was more of a day job, but he had to talk to all sorts of thieves and criminals and dealers and smugglers constantly. He couldn't be here babysitting people.

He also knew, though, that Rosa wouldn't be able to handle this by herself forever. She was double majoring and had that stupid article at Witch Weekly or whatever to manage. He figured it would do them all some good to bring her someone to help her deal with everything. Never let it be said that he didn't look after his friends, or that he didn't have good ideas. Of course, Rori would've been a good idea, but she was fuck knew where. Nah, he remembered Sbisa. Not the older bloke, the sister. Tough bird, she was, if a bit on the short side. Rosa was short too, it fit, plus Lyla had an attitude. She'd learn how to handle all these morons easily enough. Her friendships were an issue, he didn't want anyone involved with the Ministry coming in here. This, every single thing in here, was illegal. He was serious about his security and as soon as she proved to be a liability, he'd be cutting her off. So far, though? His idea seemed to pay off. She was good at the bar, she knew how to handle people, held her own. Showed up on time to work and appreciated the money. At this point, she was winning the Which Sbisa Do I Prefer contest. The point was, though, that remembering her from Hogwarts was good. Who else did everyone think supplied her parties with booze? Rori? Fucking hell, she was opportunistic but not enough to sell to lions. Especially not for the benefit of the teacher's pet Other Lyla. Whatever. Worse than Truly, at least Truly hadn't picked a complete idiot as a parter. Jesse was better than books even if he was an annoying, loud mouthed piece of-

Never mind.

"Sbisa, get in here-" he called through the door of his office as he saw her pass. Half an hour to opening. Thursdays were the first fight night of the weekend. Yes, weekends here ran Thursdays through Sundays. Fuck, since when did he have an office. This was bullshit, he should just give Rosa control of the office. At least she would use the desk for more than playing exploding snap. He hated how official everything was. But, anything to knock Nathan off his feet. He'd get the bastard soon. So far, no appearances from the asshole at any of his doors. That was good. Now, what was he gonna talk to Lyla about again? Eh- oh, right. Kim. Lighting up a fag, he sat at his desk and kicked his feet onto the surface, watching her come in.

I've turned into
a monster

❧

To say that Lyla was enjoying her time outside of Hogwarts was quite the understatement. Sure, there were down to the ups, but everything seemed to be balancing well enough. Perhaps even favoring the ups...

Over the last year, Lyla had lost both of her parents, graduated from Hogwarts, been kicked out by her brother, rented her own apartment, and started work at a stable (very illegal) institution. She was living out her childhood dreams of ending up just like her brother — perhaps even surpassing him. The way she saw it, she was already halfway where her brother had been a few years from now. She was ahead of the curve…which meant she had more time to make it worth it. Who knew…in a few years, Lyla might be even more successful than Thad. Merlin’s Beard, what would he say then? Maybe he would be the one asking her for ten galleons worth of loans on a weekly basis.

She enjoyed her job — probably talking to the customers more so than pouring drinks, but there was no denying that she was good at what she did. Lyla could keep track of drink orders for everyone at the bar with ease (she blamed her uncanny ability to also count cards) and was able to refill them with a simple wink and tip of the bottle. The patrons liked the cute blonde behind the bar and she liked the tips that they left when they were feeling tipsy. It was a win-win.

They were prepping for a crazy Thursday night — it was the start of fight weekend, meaning Lyla probably wouldn’t leave The Bacchae for more than a few hours at a time to catch up on a few much-needed hours of sleep. Otherwise, she would survive off of Wide-Eye Potions and sheer willpower. Throwing her towel over her shoulder, she started counting the bottles on the top shelf…at least, as well as she could from down here.

They were down a few bottles of firewhiskey, she noted mentally before she walked off towards the storeroom. It would be better if she refilled now. Otherwise, she risked Dion and Rosa up her ass. Walking through the back end of the ring, she was on her way to the storeroom when she heard something from Dion’s office. It sounded like he was calling for her. Lyla paused slightly past his door and then turned around, giving him a smirk. "Boss," Lyla said as she perched in the doorway, leaning up against the frame and raising one of her eyebrows. It wasn't like Dion to want to stick around and chat with her for no reason, so Ly figured there was something important he wanted to get off his chest. Or at least, something he wanted to transfer from his chest to hers. "Is this my mandatory cigarette break?" She raised one eyebrow, curious what he wanted to talk about.

497 ● @dion ● Outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;margin-top:5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]

 

-"Do I have to run and hide?"-

@lylasbisa - Same outfit

    The thing about running this whole fucking business now was that he'd invested a lot of money into it. Hard earned money. He was born to a woman waiting tables with a one bedroom apartment in the bad side of Islington, and she wasn't very keen on spending a single cent on him. She only did so because Nathan made her, and really he hated the forced support thing. Yeah, it'd provided the basics for him, but it had also made her hate him more than she already had. Plus, he hated owing people things. He didn't do debts unless they were in his favour,  and even then they were usually more of a hassle than they were worth. If Nathan thought that he could use that all to have Dion's eternal loyalty, he was very much contradicted as soon as he got an actual look at his youngest son. Di wanted nothing to do with him and he made it known. The man was low, even for a criminal, and Dion couldn't be made to do anything. Nathan could shove his charity up his arse because Dion wasn't taking it, especially not if there were strings attached. He may not have been academically intelligent but he was no idiot and he could recognise bad business when it hit him in the face, and boy did Nathan fucking hit him in the face on a regular basis. 

    Every penny he'd put into this venture had been hard earned. Mere pounds at first, but bit by bit he had scrounged up enough money to not have to be dependent on Nathan to eat. Then he had enough to not need it to clothe himself, and many years later to not have to live with Camille in that damn apartment with her braindead boyfriends. He could live independently but that didn't stop Nathan from dogging his steps and trying to beat him into submission, pretending to be a caring father when all he truly was was a detested sperm donor. He wouldn't give up his financial independence for anything, no one could make him fail, he would cut anyone at all that threatened it. This place had taken almost every bit of money he had, the rest had gone into the two apartments. One for himself and the other had been for Bryce, but now that they were split and the other boy didn't want it as a friend he'd given it to Camille. Why he'd done that, he didn't know. Some level of responsibility for a woman who was his mother in name only. He couldn't go back on it now, at least the profits from the club were good so far, and his main job of information was also flourishing. Having a fixed place to find him helped criminals come to him more regularly, since they didn't have to go to that hassle. He could pay for everything so far, the profit margins may not be too big but they were in the clear while things grew. Numbers were what he did, he wasn't going to run this to the ground. He wouldn't allow anything to ruin it.

    "Yeah, sit." He brought his legs down from the desk and motioned to the chair in front of him with his cigarette. What he was about to offer wasn't all that normal, but it didn't really matter. Nothing here was normal, the only rules that counted were his. Besides, with the mount of unsavoury types that were regulars around here a right hook wouldn't be any good to her, no matter how well swung it was. Kim had sent word that he'd be back soon, maybe next weekend. Well, the bloke owed him a few favours, really. Lyla wouldn't know about him working here, probably. She hadn't been working here yet when he'd had his fight and then he'd gone off to Korea for a few weeks. Still, soon he'd have to start advertising the fight, people came to it like flies to honey. Always up to watch a good ass kicking, like the ones Kim handed out. Unless she talked a lot to the customers who came specifically for fights, she wouldn't have heard Kim's full name. Those people didn't stick around the bar, usually. "You remember Kim from school? The seeker, handed your little friends' asses to 'em in Quidditch with me and the others?"

JUNIER of GS + Adox

I've turned into
a monster

❧

Lyla usually didn’t have time for idle chit-chat. With the bars busy enough for two people, she had enough going on that she didn’t have time to sit in Dion’s office and shoot the shit. She was too busy sweet-talking every Joe Schmo who walked through the door to secure tips. But now — before The Bacchae opened for the night was the perfect opportunity for them to catch up…or whatever it was Dion wanted to do. She pulled the chair out with her foot and lazily lounged across the seat, putting her hands above her as she stretched out. Bartending was never where she expected to end up, but it was doing her just fine so far. Lyla supposed she had Dion to thank for that. He gave her her little corner of somewhere, and it made her feel grounded. Plus, the tips did a number on paying for the studio apartment that she was renting a few doors down. She was doing just fine on her own — take that, Thad. She didn’t need her brother, she sure as hell didn’t need her dead parents. All Lyla Sbisa needed was her will to survive.

“Gonna grab another bottle of firewhiskey before the mad rush starts tonight,” she said, looking down to check out her hands. A few scrapes and bruises from handling the glassware like an ass, but it wasn’t anything to write home about. Nothing compared to what she’d seen some of the fighters look like after they’d crawled out of the ring. She was doing just fine on this side of the fencing, she thought.

A laugh escaped her lips. “Sure, hell of a Quidditch player if I remember. He made me lose my fair share of bets on Gryffindor.” It was like a fond memory. One from a hundred years ago. How could Hogwarts have only been over a few short weeks ago? Christ, it felt like ages since they’d been arguing over who was going to win the Quidditch Cup or how they were going to smuggle Firewhiskey in for the second-floor all-house party. Lyla shook her head. She’d been a big player there; a big fish in a small pond. But when the floodgates had opened and they’d all been released into the ocean, she was all of a sudden a very small fish. A very small fish who knew how to pour a very mean shot.

She failed to see the connection between Kim and their smoke break, though. Lyla raised an eyebrow and slung her leg over the side of the chair, leaning back further as she tried to crack her vertebrae. “You’re not setting me up on a date, right?” she asked with a smug expression. It seemed farfetched, but she wasn’t ever sure how to get a read on Dion. Tough as nails, a little bit of a shit, and rarely ever cracked a smile unless it was at someone else’s expense. Maybe this was a joke on her. She rolled her eyes, returning her body to center and planting her feet on the ground as she leaned forward. “Listen, Di. I like you, as a boss. But I don’t need help in the romance department. I’d rather be on my own for a little while anyway.”

@dion

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;margin-top:5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]

 

- Do I have to run and hide? -

@lylasbisa - same outfit

    Dion didn't know Mini Sbisa all that well. He didn't know her personally and he didn't care to either, she was an employee whose capabilities he was more or less certain off. That was all he cared about. He'd even only started paying attention to her because of her brother. Dion had met Thad a few years ago, the same way he knew all the criminals that came into the Bacchae. He'd met the bloke out on the streets, when he'd been looking around for useful criminals to know and point towards proper clients. The name was unusual so it was easy to remember, especially when he seemed to be decent at his job. When he somehow heard her name at Hogwarts, he'd sort of looked her way every once in a while to see if she had the same skill as her brother. She was a Gryffindor so he didn't have very high hopes for her criminal futures, criminals from that house had to be very good at what they did to override that stupid bravery streak they all had. She had been a year younger than him, but since he ended up repeating his NEWT year, they did end up sharing classes for his last academic stretch. She had sort of made a name for herself in dealing with shit, though she wasn't his regular supplier. That had been Rory, when he couldn't get stuff himself. Still, Sbisa had been somewhat decent in her efforts, even though she was still an amateur. He'd grown up with people who did what she did for a proper living, so while he'd seen some promise, he wasn't impressed. Well, if she was just starting out then he may as well take advantage of that. She was a decent bartender and she may even learn to be a second Rosa if he expanded. For now, though? She had to learn the ropes in order for him not to lose any money. He'd told her on her first fucking day. Lose my money and you lose your job.

    Still, while Di had more than enough security, clubs were crowded places. He didn't doubt that at some point someone would wanna get lucky and try to take money from the bar. With the amount of booze they sold, there was always a good amount of cash there. Crowded nights made it hard to keep up with the flow and move it to the safe at regular intervals. It was best to just get her to learn how to hold her own until security could get to her, and he was not fucking gonna teach her himself. He had better things to spend time on and they weren't in any way close. He had work to do, so his idea had been to get Kim to teach her. He didn't consider many people friends; Rosa, maybe Jay, maybe Rory, maybe Finn, and Kim. Stupid, lovesick bastard that he was, he was still fucking useful to know and not half a pain in his ass. Yeah, he'd ask him to do that and Kim would do it because he was honourable and all that bullshit and would want Sbisa to be able to defend herself.  Because it was the right thing to do or whatever. Not even thinking about Dion's profit. He was a shitty friend was what Kim was.
    
    At least she remembered Kim, that was something. Her choice to bet on her own house with the team they had was really not a compliment to her intelligence, though, and he snorted. During the day, this place worked as an illegal betting parlour. There went her chances of ever working as a bookie; if she couldn't handle odds then she was not getting that role. "You deserve that loss of money if you actually thought they were going to win, fucking hell." With his eyes fixed on her moving leg -he'd paid for that fucking furniture, could she not- he only half paid attention to what she was saying. Something about... wait, what? What? What? His gaze snapped up to look at her and he didn't know what he was more offended by, her calling him Di of all things or her lack of observation skills. How the hell did she miss that Kim practically drooled every time Lachlan walked by? Fucking hell- he let out a loud laugh, and it wasn't a particularly nice one. "Sbisa, you should just stop fucking assuming anything right now. Also, don't step on my furniture or call me that ever again or you're fucking fired. We're not on a nickname basis here, got it?" 
    
    Shaking his head, he lit up another fag and took a long drag of it, blowing the smoke upwards to the ceiling. Still snickering, he tapped some ash from his cigarette. What a fucking- nah, he wasn't about to tell her about it. He wasn't that much of an asshole, Kim could tell her himself. "Trust me when I say, he wouldn't be interested in you. Ever. Besides, I don't fucking care if you hit a dry spell lasting the rest of your life. I care about you not getting your ass kicked and my money stolen from the cash register. More about the money, admittedly, but your ass getting kicked seems to be a necessary middle step for that." Dion shrugged, motioning with a hand. "Point is, Kim is a fighter. Works for me now. Undefeated. I'm having him give you a lesson or two when he gets back from Korea."

Permanent: Di's Tats

JUNIER of GS + Adox

I've turned into
a monster

❧

Lyla had always wanted to be like her older brother. From the moment she saw him dealing cards and shaming people out of their money, she’d wanted in on the action. Of course, her parents had been less than thrilled with the idea and kept the siblings as far away from one another as possible. So she’d grown up wishing that she could do things like Thad while also being tied to her parents’ well-wishes for her. At least, until she’d arrived at Hogwarts. There, she could be whoever she wanted. And the Sbisa name was already a blemish in Ravenclaw…why couldn’t she extend it to Gryffindor? So she started acting out — ignoring her studies, smuggling in liquor and running a poker table every Thursday night in the Artifact Room. She lived her dream while she was there and then, when she came back to her parents’ for the summer, it was back to being Lyla Sbisa, perfectly perfect daughter.

Thad had it easy, she thought, shaking her head.

But now, her parents were dead. She supposed she should have missed them more than she did, but Lyla wasn’t one to mourn the past. They’d given up their lives for what they thought important and she couldn’t fault them for that. Did she lie away with tears in her eyes some nights thinking about them? Sure. But she’d be damned if she ever let anyone — not Dion, not even Thad — see that side of her.

Snapping back to the situation at hand, Lyla rolled her eyes — though Dion was her boss, it didn’t mean that they were the best of friends. Sure, she was closer to him then she was to most people, but that had a good deal to do with the fact that paychecks from him paid her rent check every month. The line was officially drawn in the sand, she supposed. Dion Weaver was not ‘Di,’ he was not her friend, he was little more than her employer. Her very first employer, to be exact. Lyla was still learning boundaries. After all, when her parents had been alive, there had been no reason for her to get a job or work for ‘the man.’ But now they were gone, and Thad had his own way of doing things, which included kicking her to the curb almost instantly after she stepped off the Hogwarts Express for the last time. Of course, all of this was fine — at least she knew now where they stood. She held up her hands, almost as if to tell him that she surrendered. “Just had to make sure, Boss.”

Lyla leaned back, now, raising her eyebrows in surprise. It definitely hadn’t been what she’d expected. “You think someone might try and bring the fight to the bar?” He was probably right. With the number of drunken idiots that came in and out of The Bacchae, it was probably only a matter of time before someone got a big head and tried to rob them. Lyla was small — short and rather unassuming. She had a pretty face and she assumed that she didn’t look very intimidating (though she would be quick to assure everyone she could kick their ass, she wasn’t trained in anything but mediocre dueling). “Alright so let me get this straight. You want me to learn how to beat the shit out of someone so I can protect your cash.” She paused before cracking a grin. This job got cooler every day. “Hell yeah, I’m in.”

@dion

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]

 

- DO I HAVE TO RUN AND HIDE? -

"@ MiniSbisa - Outfit"

    Could Mini Sbisa ever become his friend? Maybe, he hadn't given it much thought. Admittedly, he didn't have many friends. Rosa, yeah, maybe Kim if only by spending too much time together. Maybe Taar, maybe Blue, maybe Rori, maybe Bastard Finn. Who knew, really, but it wasn't really all that important to him. These were all people he'd spent a lot of time with and had learned to get along with by force. Sbisa? He'd not spent any time with her and she worked for him now, the only times he saw her was when she was at the bar and he was passing through. Her at one bar, Diva Finn at the other bar. He didn't drink while working and since he was always working he'd actually stopped drinking altogether. Well, that didn't really matter, it just meant that he rarely interacted with his bartenders. So far? Mini Sbisa seemed to have a talent for putting her foot in her mouth or outright saying the most bullshit stuff. Just because she was too comfortable around him. That had never happened to Di before, really. People were always either on guard or annoyed or in a hurry. It would've been a nice change of pace if it weren't for all the bad decisions on her end of the dialogue. 
    "Listen, don't be too familiar with everyone, Sbisa. Sure, most of your clients are looking for a good time and all that shit. You gotta learn to tell apart those from the ones that'll take your casual attitude the wrong way. Work with your fucking eyes open, this isn't a playground." There was the club part of the place, there was the gambling den part of the place, and there was the cage fighting part, but just because those were 'fun activities' it didn't mean that everyone that was there was fun. The Bacchae was in Islington, one of the rougher sides of London, and it was run by Dion of all people. Dion, who knew most of the people in Islington by name and address and who was on a first name basis with most of the criminals in London. Those were his clients, people from this run down borough and criminals from all around town that came here for business or entertainment or both. Point was, most of them were dangerous and a lot of them would bite. When it came to the werewolves who preferred 'muggle' joints like this? Literally. For some. There were pacifists too, he supposed. "Most people won't, they would know better. Still, can't rule anything out when people and drunk or drugged or both. Desperate people do stupid shit, stupid people do stupid shit, and desperate stupid people do even stupider shit."
    Taking another drag for his cigarette, he looked up at the ceiling and then blue a ring of smoke up at it. This was some fucking favour he was gonna ask Kim to do for him, but if he knew the overachiever at all the whole 'help a young woman learn defend herself' would get him off his ass. He needed to get out of his own head more, Dion thought, because it was always either work or working out or Blue. He'd drive himself nuts that way and that wouldn't be a pretty sight. Plus, Blue would blame him and that was just beyond unfair. "Yeah, not that you had much choice on the matter, but good to know. He'll also be giving Jesse some pointers every once in a while so it works out. I'll talk to him when he next comes in, but beware- he has a very jealous boyfriend and I'm not gonna be responsible for your incineration of you look at Kim in a way considered 'too interested'." He made quotation signs with his fingers in the air before snorting. Hell, half Veelas were still as temperamental and territorial as full Veelas. That wasn't as much of a surprise as most people would think. 

Permanent: Di's Tats

JUNIER of GS + Adox

[attr="class","reasonlyla"]

[attr="class","reasonbglyla"]

[attr="class","reasonbiglyla"]

monster

[attr="class","reasonsmalllyla"]If I told you what I was, Would you turn your back on me? And if I seem dangerous, Would you be scared?

[attr="class","reasonbodlyla"]Lyla knew that they would probably never be friends. Dion Weaver wasn’t her cup of tea and she was fairly certain that she wasn’t his, sometimes. But, she was a good bartender and he was a good boss. It was a mutually beneficial, symbiotic relationship, she reasoned. Still, it was strange having him give her what seemed like friendly advice. Then again, maybe he was just protecting his investment…that probably made more sense.

She was his employee – she brought it part of the profit of this establishment. And while Lyla would be naïve to think that the bar was the main money-maker of The Bacchae, she knew that a lot of profit came out of alcohol on fight nights. People bet, but some people didn’t. At the end of the night, though, at least everyone had gotten themselves a pint or something harder.

Though she didn’t want to admit that Dion was right, she knew that he was. Not everyone was going to be the best customer. She’d already had a few older gentlemen try and hit on her and while she was okay with it so long as they were giving her a good tip, there was probably nothing stopping the burlier men from picking her up and whisking her off to Merlin only knew where without her consent. Then the whole thing would go up in flames because it left him bartender-less and the bar cash box open for people with sticky fingers. Had to be careful, she reasoned. And if that meant learning how to tear off a man’s ear because he looked at her wrong…? So be it. Lyla figured that was probably not what Dion had in mind, but it didn’t stop her from getting an internal laugh about it all.

She was happy that she would be training with Jesse sometimes. It would do her good to have a familiar face around. Not that she wasn’t familiar with Kim…she just had never really interacted with him. He was a Slytherin Quidditch Player, and she ran the pools for Quidditch betting. That was about as close to coming into contact with one another as they got.

A snort escaped her lips as she looked up at the ceiling. Dion’s smoke disappeared as soon as it reached the plaster above. “I’ll try to cover up my interest, Dion,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to shag every fighter you bring into the ring.” That was a promise she wasn’t willing to give, especially because there was something sexy about a man with a black eye ordering a drink from her bar. Merlin’s Beard, maybe she was a sadist… They spent all night getting beat up and sometimes, all they wanted to do was sit and drink. At least it gave Lyla some good eye-candy to toy around with. Still, she knew there was some level of seriousness to his words – some level of him was warning her. It would do her well to actually head the warning. “Kim’s off limits. Got it.”

There was a slight pause as she looked down. “Thanks,” she said as she looked across the desk at her boss. Merlin’s Beard, she felt stupid even thinking something sentimental like: thanks for taking care of me, Dion. So, she didn’t say it. Instead, she braced her hands against the arms of the chair and looked at him expectantly. “Anything else, boss? Want me to learn how to tap dance my way out of danger, too? What kind of fighting does Kim teach, anyway?”

[attr="class","reasontaglyla"]@ dion | 593 | OUTFIT

[attr="class","credlyla"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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