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When you live in a world that requires you to have certain... attributes to get by, you learn quickly how to turn your negative traits into positive ones. Amelia Lorelei didn't have wealth, fame, or the title of 'Mr' in front of her name. All she had was her charming personality and a powerful gift to aid her persuasion skills.
Pretty Lies. A gift that made her words affect the temperature of those around her. For those who favoured her... assets, her voice warmed up the room to make her targets feel safe and at peace. A haze of lust and desire. For those who didn't, her voice froze the air to an unbearably low temperature. Harsh and bitter. Uncomfortable and violent.
Her job at The Platinum Star kept a roof over her head at least. Most would sneer at her line of work, yet, behind closed doors, would beg for her attention for a night or two. Mr Drake ensured that she and her fellow saloon girls were more than pretty objects when floating along the main floor. She knew the truth, though.
Markus had tried to convince her to choose a different path, but how else would she gather the information Venompeaks craved?
Amelia settled in Mr Stevie Powers' lap, running her hands over his shoulders. The older man gulped, fighting the leftover flush from his alcohol and... prior excitement. She giggled, leaning in close to capture his lips in a quick peck.
"A party?" She asked, sweetly. "Oh, I've always wanted to attend one of Mr Crawford's parties! I've heard he puts on some of the best shows ever!"
Mr Powers laughed, running his nose along the edge of her jaw. Amelia's hand pushed long, brown strands out of his face. "Ya damn right he does! Only the finest of booze and the company ain't half bad either! Ol' Crawford loves a good performance by the local saloon girls!"
Every man with a position like his was the same. Same wants. Same desires.
Same weaknesses.
“Oh. You’d take a girl like me to a fancy party like that, wouldn’t you, Sir?” Amelia pouted, twirling a piece of his long fringe around her manicured finger.
Mr Powers gulped, face flushing a dark crimson. His hands - battle-worn and harsh - gripped around her waist as if holding on in a fierce storm. His eyes glazed over with lust.
Bingo.
“Oh! Oh, yes I would,” He grinned with giddiness. His hands petted up and down her sides. “I’d give you the world if you’d let me, Sugar. Let me take you to meet Crawford. He’d love to get to know a queen like yourself.”
She smirked, leaning down to share his drunken breath. “Well… If you insist.”
Amelia pulled her satin glove over her hand with a flourish, her heels making her entrance known down the polished wooden stairs. A few heads turned to look in her direction - customers and staff - before returning to whatever they were doing. She sighed, pulling a fresh cigarette out and placing it in her holder.
She made her way to the bar, weaving through the overly-crowded floor. The Platinum Star had more patrons than usual, the afternoon heat bringing them inside, away from the boiling sun.
"Afternoon, Mr Drake," She groaned, holding out her cigarette. The barkeep lit it for her without a word, his other hand sliding over a glass of her favourite liqueur. "You wouldn't believe the amount of fundin' I'm gonna be bringin' in from Mr Powers. Easiest score of my life, I swear on Amory herself."
"Good for you, Lorelei," Amos replied, his eyes elsewhere. Amelia frowned, taking a long drag of her cigarette. The smoke lingered next to the bartender's ear, unfazed. "I take it you'll be spending some time in Venompeaks then?"
Amelia hummed, feeling an arm find its place around her lap. A warm body, warmed even more by her gift. "You know me so well, Sir."
Amos did not comment on her blatant insubordination, simply wishing her safe travels along the main trail. She flicked a hand in response, a barely-there acknowledgement. She shoved past the sand-covered women blocking the entrance, ignoring their spitting growl.
She walked beside Mr Powers towards Tumbleweed Trail, drifting along between the crowded afternoon streets. He laughed loudly at his own story, hands working on knotting a heavy bandana around his face. He was egotistical, vain and oh, so proud.
But money was money, and information wasn't so easy to come by without a little pain.
"I just hope Crawford won't be doin' his usual rants about those stupid mistakes he let happen in his past!" Mr Powers groaned, pulling Amelia in closer. She wrapped her hand around his bicep, giving a strained smile. "Wish he'd hurry up an' get over it already. Stupid hybrid runaway."
Amelia tilted her head. "Mr Crawford? Letting a measly hybrid get a one-up against him? How in the gods could that even happen?"
"He stole some important documents and fled into the night, or somethin'. Ol' Crawford said he wanted to become a spy for Blindhollow, so they had to put an end to the runt." He slowed down, shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed down the trail. "Apparently, they gave him - Little Red - one hell of a lesson, but had to leave to stop some hybrid rebellion back in Venompeaks! When Crawford went back, the body was missin', leavin' nothin' more than a bloody smear in its wake!!"
Amelia hummed, noticing a cart approaching in the near distance. "It's not too farfetched that a hybrid would betray Venompeaks like that. Dogs, the lot of 'em." She shook her head. "You said Little Red? That what Crawford called his pet?"
Mr Powers nodded, "Never gave more than that. Would just mumble and shout about Little Red's betrayal - oh, and how he should've taken more from him than just his writin' hand."
Despite her gift, the air around the saloon girl grew cold and sharp. She couldn't name many people living in Xtesa with only one hand - even fewer who were men. A man with only one hand who would fit the nickname "Little Red?"
"I might have just the information Mr Crawford needs."
Mr Powers' face lit up. "R-Really?! W-Well that's great! Let's take this cart straight to- Hey!!"
Amelia watched as he stomped away towards another bandit, shouting about waiting his turn and cutesy for his lady and all that bullshit. She didn't care. The gears were too busy turning in her head. Behind the mask of a weak, easily saloon girl, Amelia Lorelei prided herself on her exquisite ability to gather the information Venompeaks craved.
Her gaze turned back towards Blindhollow as the verbal spat turned into a physical altercation. She stared at the back windows of Blindhollow's Doctor's office, watching the silhouettes move around inside without a care in the world.
She would get this meeting with Manuel Crawford. Even if her ticket in had to be lifted off the ground by his two friends, bleeding heavily around his bandana.
Whatever it took.