CW: Mentions of sex/sex work, violence.

As he approaches the inn, Rin sees Bellow chatting up a courtesan just outside. The Rose, as these particular courtesans are called, wears a delicate silver mask across her eyes as is regulation set by Madame Kahin to garner mystique. She is a broad faced woman with imposing storms for eyes, regarding Bellow with a cool demeanour. White blonde hair cascades down her back and over both shoulders, stark against the shimmering grey robe that gracefully falls from her beautifully plump form. She holds herself as regally and elegantly as a queen, cherry chin raised with pouty arrogance, though there is a warmth to her aura that makes people feel at ease in her presence.

The one currently chatting her up, on the other hand, is like a coarse beast that violently jars with her well crafted visage. Bellow is all muscle and pure bullish strength. His skin is dark with a rich summer tan and his hair is bleached yellow by the sun. He has a strong jaw and mean eyes that give him the air of a ruffian or a brute. There is a charming rakishness to him however, which is all too clear in the crooked way he grins.

"Come on, Bucky, you know how much fun I can be. Why donchya just drink with me, huh? Just one measly drink!" Bellow's booming voice is at odds with his skin crawling simpering, which does nothing at all to sway the Rose who simply stands as still and silent as a statue.

Stormy eyes capture Rin when he nears, and he rolls his eyes at her, inciting a faint smile upon her stoic features.

He comes up behind Bell and grabs him by the ear, jerking him away from the poor woman. The latter lets out an enraged roar, body twisting wildly as he tries to beat his giant arms at his attacker. Rin angles his body away to avoid the deadly blows but keeps his grip tight. "Not even a goblin would drink with you, pet," he hums, giving the bigger man's ear a vicious tug. "But maybe I can make an exception. Why don't you buy me a drink instead, hm? Bucky's too good for the likes of you anyway."

Bellow pushes his hot breath through flaring nostrils, red in the face as he's all too easily tamed by this waifish boy. "What does that make you then?"

"The same brand of trash as you, pet. You know this already." Rin gives the bullish man a good shake, surely rattling the pea-sized brain within his thick skull. He glances at the Rose, who's been watching all this unfold with that quiet smile of hers. "Are you new? You don't normally work at the Sweet Brier."

"New to the Sweet Brier, yes," Bucky responds, her voice touched with an alluring huskiness. "You are the Rat."

"I am," Rin says and the two share a smile.

"I've seen you before," she says, flipping open her fan. She waves it elegantly before her face, though it's more of a thoughtful gesture than a way to cool herself. "You stole a client from Poppy not two weeks ago and she gave you a black eye. Or so I've heard."

"Have you seen the size of her?" the Rat protests, cringing internally at the memory. He could hardly keep his right eye open for a good few days. "She could beat a battalion of Silverswords with just one hand. I'd bet on it."

Bucky laughs, a funny braying sound that she's clearly self conscious about by the way she quickly swallows her mirth and covers her mouth with the fan. "You're not working for Madame Kahin."

"I like to keep the money I earn," Rin says, flippantly.

"Are you old biddies gonna keep yapping away or am I gonna have to beat the both of you black and blue?" Bell growls, catching Rin in the stomach with a stray fist. The boy grunts and grabs his stomach, stooping over with a cough.

"I take it you are both friends?" Bucky says, tone dry as she regards the two unruly men.

"Only the best of," Rin wheezes.

"Regulars of the Sweet Brier?"

"Regular drinkers." He gives her a wry smile, narrowly avoiding another punch by ducking under the swinging fist. "We're Slummers, so not much coin to go around."

"Then you would know much about this area."

"Been here since I could walk."

"Perhaps we should be friends."

"Only the best of," Rin chuckles and gives Bellow a sharp jab in the ribs. The latter pauses in his wild swinging to grab at his sore side, glaring at the innocent faced perpetrator. "You don't get along with the other Roses?"

Bucky's smile turns frigid. Her eyes like cracked glass. "No," is all she says, her tone cool and detached. "Anyway, they're boring. I think you and your friend here are quite entertaining. Maybe you could show me around one day."

"Maybe we could." By his lilting tone, it's clear that the Rat expects something in return for this service.

The Rose's smile curls behind the fan, her dark lashes fluttering like the anxious wings of a hummingbird. "Lady Nam is celebrating her fiftieth birthday next month with a ball and there's a party at the docks afterwards. A post-ball revelry of sorts. She's hired almost everyone from the Rose Palace for entertainment and I'm sure she won't notice one or two extra."

"Will there be food? And drink?" Bell asks, an eager expression brightening up his rough face. "I heard them noble ladies are pretty kinky behind closed doors."

"It's a party, you moron. Of course there'll be food and drink." Rin quickly sidesteps another blow from Bellow, who turns red at his words.

"That's just fine," Rin says to Bucky with a grin. "We'll come along, but I can't guarantee I'm not going to steal anything."

"Oh, please do," Bucky says smoothly. "An opportunity like this doesn't come by often. Not for us, anyway."

"Will the Madame herself be attending?" Rin asks curiously. He's only ever heard about the infamous Madame of the Roses. Very rarely does anyone lay eyes on the woman herself, except for the exceedingly powerful and wealthy.

Bucky raises a brow at the Rat, her expression inexplicably darkening. "She will be. But I expect she will be busy entertaining Lady Nam. She is the Lady's favourite, after all."

"Of course," Rin hums, looking rather thoughtful as he gazes upon that ominous expression.

Storms flicker to the side when she spots a wealthy looking woman eyeing her from one of the outdoor tables, perhaps a merchant by the richness of her wear and the contrasting work shoes upon her feet. "Let's speak more on this later," Bucky says, snapping her fan shut with practiced ease. "If you'll excuse me."

Without another word, the Rose sashays towards the merchant who greets her with a hungry smile. The two friends watch as Bucky and her client walk into the inn arm in arm, imagining all kinds of things that bring heat to both their faces.