Black Queen

      “You know, I feel like a cheater every time I        come to have a drink here.”

The woman in black looked up from the bar with a wry grin on her face, gripping her glass with three fingers as if it were some small toy, a little piece to some bigger puzzle. A gin and tonic -- Basilia Queensland always ordered the same thing, and by now, the bartender knew on instinct what to prepare when she sat down, to the point where all she had to do was wink.

What mattered right now wasn’t the drink in the woman known as Snowman’s hand, though. Her attention was entirely focused on something else, or rather, someone else. A figure as elegant and enigmatic as the bar in which she existed -- and Snowman’s old friend.

      “Business is booming as usual, huh? I’d ask how        you do it, Sadie, but I know you better than to        expect you to tell me.”

Taking a drag rather large sip from her glass, Basilia turned around on her stool, looking out over the bar, green eyes as sharp as ever in the darkened area.

crescentisms​

      “Welcome to the Royal Ball, hun.”

The silky voice flowed from the back of the room, and at first, it was uncertain where it had come from. Only when the owner stepped out of the shadows did it become clear exactly who was speaking -- the woman in her late 20′s offered a warm, if rather sly, smile of welcome to the male figure she was addressing.

Basilia Queensland was a very careful woman. More careful than she let on, usually. One of the talents she was most proud of was her ability to remember faces -- for some reason, she had always felt she had a need to remember the face of everyone she knew, as if she had to anticipate a knife in the dark from any direction at any time. But that was besides the point.

What mattered here was that this was someone Snowman didn’t know. And that in itself was a special occasion. Taking a drag from her cigarette holder, not for a moment allowing her sharp green eyes to leave his, the owner of the establishment approached the male.

      “Ain’t seen you around here before, babe. You here        to play a quick game, or are you lookin’ for a drink?”

There’s always a difference between the drinkers, the players, and the ones who do a little bit of both. This wasn’t an idle question, it was a test.

battleshipreclass

      “Oh, boy.”

The woman put one hand to her forehead -- it was enough to tell exactly what she thought of the situation. The moon was out and illuminating the streets where the lights didn’t; it was considerably easy to see, especially for someone like Snowman, who was so used to the dark. And what she saw in front of her right now didn’t make her happy in the least.

Lowering her hat, the tall figure gave a sigh. No matter how much experience she had with the world, she never really knew how to handle this. She wasn’t an unkind woman, but she certainly couldn’t spend time paying attention to everyone below her. Especially not those who she was certain would hurry back for seconds regardless.

What a conundrum.

      “We’re closing up, babe. It’s far too late for        you to be out, anyways. Whadda you want,        food? I ain’t got any.”

And as usual, Basilia chose the road which would get her where she needs to get quicker. Right now, she was certain she needed to get away. The unfortunate and feeble don’t need to be stomped by her, but that didn’t mean she was planning to give them special treatment.

ludenburg

      “Hey, kid. Who let you in here? You know real        well that those who are underage get booted        from places like this.”

The cold, strict voice came from behind the young woman who’d entered the establishment, overpowering the music wafting from the stage, the clinking of glasses at the bar, and the snapping of balls across billiard tables. A perfect symphony of sound, in a way. There was a strange sense of order to it -- a kind of perfection from which an entire world could be formed -- from which a life could be granted.

And in the midst of all that perfection, the pinnacle of it all stood -- a gorgeous, tall woman holding a cigarette holder and looking down at the intruder, sharp green eyes narrowed and black, painted lips set in a still, stern expression. Her entire presence commanded power; there was no doubt about the fact that she was the core of this whole orchestra.

In here, nobody topped Snowman.

For a moment, all was still. Then, as if reacting to some invisible joke, the stern lips parted into a wide grin, and the cold eyes glinted with mischief. Taking a drag from the cigarette holder, Basilia waved her hand dismissively.