Repaying a Hefty Debt. [[Closed-Nekrosilisk88]]

"He's late..." The princess muttered under her breath, handing one of her guards the contract of one of her many clientele. Without the knowledge of her parents, the young royal was running a business of sorts on the side... for fun you can say. It was her form of helping people, but still receiving the maximum benefit for her work. It was simple really. She loaned the person anything they needed in exchange for an undisclosed amount of money that was usually far beyond what they could pay in their lifetime. The only way they found out they were done paying off their debt was when they stop receiving threatening letters from one of her many oversized goons. And not paying on time was unacceptable.

Jameelah ran a hand through her long, dark raven hair before she folded her arms over her chest. The last thing she wanted to do was show up to some stranger's door and have to fight to get back what was hers, but it was part of the job. Without dwelling on the idea further, she threw on a dark brown coat, drawing a light scarf over her hair and mouth so she wasn't easily recognized before she slipped into the dark of the night.

She quietly crept through the center of the desert city, hiding behind the figure of the heavy guard before her as they slipped through alleyways towards the address on the bottom of the piece of paper. It was only on rare occasions was she allowed to leave the palace with the consent of her parents, so for incidences like this, of course she had to be careful. Jameelah held her breath, wanting the only sound to be that of her very small feet thumping lightly on the sand below her.

"I believe this is it Princess," the guard said in a rough but certain voice as they stopped before a fairly quaint residence. She proceeded past him, her dark almond eyes darting to each side to make sure no one had followed them. When she felt it was it safe, she knocked twice on the wooden door.

Raynor was sitting down to his dinner. He'd left his sidearm hanging by the door. He thought there might be some trouble tonight. He was only a day, maybe two overdue on his payment, but then this one had a pretty severe reputation. He had a single candle on the table for light. He couldn't afford the power right now, not until he got his debt cleared, and he wasn't going to get paid until the end of the week. His back hair contrasted against his fair skin, and was grown back long.

He heard a knock on the door, and looked up. Nobody came around to call this time of night. That could only mean one thing. It was her. He moved with a cat like grace towards the door, keeping quite as possible. Taking the revolver from its holster, he held the trigger down as he pulled the hammer back. When it was at full cock he released the trigger, only the faintest of clicks was made as the mechanism set in place.

“Who’s there?” His voice was steady, masking the fear in his gut. He was standing to the side of the door, in case her thugs tried to kick the door in. He may have been a common laborer, but that didn’t make him an idiot. He was also prepared to shoot if he had too, he was just hoping he didn’t.

She could hear the faint scuffle of his footsteps from inside and she could only sense that he knew it was her coming for him. Cautiously, she pressed her ear to the door, pursing her lips as she heard a distinct click. Jameelah felt her guard place an oversized hand on her delicate shoulder as he gently pulled her back, but she didn't care. She knew the man would not shoot the princess unless he wanted to be killed before all the people of the city. Her small hand brushed off his hand, though her gesture didn't move him much. And before she could speak, the man behind the door spoke.Her dark eyes narrowed as she stared into the door, almost burning it down with her gaze.

They both knew he knew who she was, and she felt insulted to say the least. She desperately tried to think of something to say, and a long pause lingered before her guard took a deep breath as though he was about to speak. Before he could mutter anything, she raised a hand, silencing him.

"How dare you insult me..." she breathed. "Open the door before royalty or you shall suffer for the consequences of your actions..." Jameelah threatened, her arms folding across her chest. This was an order of business where she was bound to have her way, just like anything else in her life. She was there to claim what was rightfully hers.

He just smiled. He recognized the voice as Jameelah, but there was no way in hell she was royalty. "Uh-huh. Look I wasn't born yesterday. No two-bit loan shark, excuse me, high risk financier," his voice was mocking as he quoted back the title she'd given him initially, "is related to the royal family. They’ve got more money than god from taxing us already. Boss is being a hard-ass about paying me. I’ll have your money at the end of the week. Come back then. Trying to break in here, would be a really bad idea.”

As he spoke, he was moving back to extinguish the candle, the less light they had to see him with the better. It was half moon tonight, so he’d have enough illumination to see a figure in the door way. That point aside he had really good night vision, so he’d be able to more or less identify who he was shooting at. She may have been able to bully her way about with others, but she was about to learn he was hell of a lot tougher than your run of the mill peasant.

She immediately regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. It was clearly the fastest way to get wrapped up in the next scandal involving her family. Amidst the darkness, she could see the warning look in her guard's eyes as the man behind the door spoke again. As soon as he finished, Jameelah clenched her fist, her fingernails pressing hard against her skin in the small balls she had made. Not only was she not used to be insulted by some nobody who was in need of her services, but for him to insult her family was the last straw. Letting silence linger between them again, she quietly stepped to the side, motioning the guard to come closer. Slowly, her fingers wrapped the brass doorknob, clenching it tightly before she tried to open it herself. Of course, it was locked.

"Open it," she breathed below a whisper, making sure to control the rage she felt inside. She would not let this man ridicule her and get away with it.
Seconds later, she saw the shadow of the guard charging towards the door. She jumped slightly, startled at the amount of noise it had made. The guard motioned her to stay, but of course she followed him into the frame of the doorway.

Dense darkness filled the room and her eyes struggled to adjust to it. She felt a sense of panic as her eyes scanned the room, not being able to see anything before her. "Show yourself," she commanded sternly, a bit of agitation present in her tone. She tried desperately to pick up any sound, footsteps, his breathing, anything. "How come you've suddenly become a coward when clearly you were not afraid to insult me merely seconds before?" she laughed boldly, stepping through the frame of the door and further into the room.

Already moving out of the path of the door, Raynor was well hidden in the shadows by the time the ox of a man came barreling through the door. He remained quiet his breath and bare feet barely audible to even himself. Slipping through the shadows to the now wide open door. He remained quiet as she hurled her own insults back at him. He knew what he was doing, as she would soon learn. As she stepped into his house, he smiled. Worse mistake you made dealing with someone like him.

"I'm right here." As he spoke, he pressed the barrel of his revolver against the back of her skull. "I told you breaking in was a bad idea. And no, I'm not a coward, I just know how to utilize the stupidity of others." He slowly started backing away, keeping his gun trained on her. He just needed to make it to the alleys and he'd be home clear.

She immediately felt the revolver against the back of her head and she held her breath to control her heart beat. Through the darkness, she could make out the figure of her guard who stood tensely a few feet away from her, uncertain how to react. Her life was in danger and it was his duty to make sure nothing happened to her, for numerous reasons. Reacting quickly could prove deadly, but also not reacting could prove the same. "Leave," she commanded the guard. "And do not summon the others." Jameelah was stern in her request, and her eyes flashed though she knew he couldn't see it. This was simply something she would have to deal with. With a deep bow, the guard slipped through the door and made his way back.

Once he had left, her attention was diverted to the man holding the revolver against her. "I wouldn't give yourself so much credit..." she stated boldly. "You're the one that owes me money. That is more worthy of being called stupid, if you ask me." She hesitated for a moment before she ducked slightly, grabbing his wrist and twisting it so the revolver was no longer pointed at her. She used the impulse to face him, withdrawing a small blade from her side and pointing it at his neck. "If you can't produce the money right now, then you will come with me and serve me until you are able to repay your debt."

Raynor cursed as she got the drop on him. She’d moved just a bit faster than he did, and now she was the one in control. Twisting his wrist like that had loosened grip on his gun. A little further twisting his wrist and it fell to the floor with a dull thud. Most men then would’ve given up and accepted their fates, but Raynor was a fighter to the end, and it would be a cold day in hell before he surrendered.

“Rot in hell bitch.” The pain shooting through his wirst made it so he could barely see. Three heads were dancing in front of him, and he didn’t know which one was hers. Rearing back his fist, and threw it all into one last effort at getting out of there and then blacked out, not sure if his blow connected or not.