#vaselet

[duxbellatorum]

[ cathouse. ]

@eromai

The night’s chill had settled in his bones hours ago, and he wondered bitterly if the marrow within were more frost than matter. But the overseer had appeared at the appointed corner just after midnight, and just as his contact assured him he would. Nowhere near the vicinity of the entrance to the Golden Cat, but close enough he knew his sources to be true.

The Iron Bull had been seeing a working girl, according to rumors that turned out to be substantiated by certain witnesses around the area. Cullen never quite believed pigeons that required a crown or two to loosen their lips. A bought truth was likely no truth at all. But everything in his investigation had checked out. Unfortunately.

The girls in their maribou-lined peignoirs fanned themselves furiously at the sight of him, though not for any romantic arrest. The last time he’d been to the Golden Cat was to nail up parchments citing the admonitions of the Abbey, with special attention to the stricture of Wanton Flesh (printed erroneously and hilariously as Wantron Felsh). Clearly the madam remembered as well, standing arms akimbo in the hall way to prevent his entrance. 

“I’m not here to cause any trouble,” he assured her soberly, his hands raised in supplication. “There was an overseer here. I just need the name of the girl he’s just seen. No one’s to be questioned. It’s the overseeing I’m investigating.”

“Aphrodite,” she said curtly, looking at him through narrowed eyes. As if she was waiting for him to attempt something foolish again. “Upstairs. Lilies on the door.” 

“Miss Aphrodite?” he asked, knocking politely on cream and gilded door, adorned with fresh lilies in a little vaselet, just as the madam had said. “A word. If you don’t mind.”

#eromai #dishonored verse tbt #YELLS its been years #I MISS MY GF