Welcome to the Lady Fortune

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Besides, a thick stack of cash waiting for her when she left the bar was plenty of incentive to overlook her bumps and bruises.

The bartender made idle chatter with her for a while as she downed a few shots to dull the ache. Her chest started to feel warm and her head just shy of fuzzy when she decided to slow down and prepare to head home.

One of the servers at the bar had helped her bandage up her head. It hadn’t been a lot of blood, but still enough to be concerned with. Other than that, the fight had gone fairly well and she was pleased.

Now she just had to make it through, well, about a hell of a lot more.

She could have a concussion and no one was taking her to the hospital or even a doctor’s to have her looked over.

The fact that she was laying her head down on the bar like she was going to pass out didn’t bode well either.

He didn’t want to care. Jigen had had enough trouble with women in the past to know when it was best to turn the other way. But if this woman died because he didn’t say anything he’s never be able to let it go.

With a sigh he got up from his stool and came over with his drink.

When she heard a voice she didn’t recognize and looked up she saw a man that she had most definitely not seen at the bar before. Her brow hitched but she shrugged her shoulders and gestured to the stool beside her.

“I saw the fight,” he said calmly, “He got a good whack to your head there. Sure you have a nice little bump. Are you dizzy at all? Not sure your boss want’s his prizefighter hitting the deck because of brain damage.”

She leaned up and peered at Jigen through a fringe of white hair, too lazy and tired to push it out of her face. She seemed be studying him, and after a moment she hitched a brow.

“Do I know you or somethin’?” She finally asked, the doubt in her voice making it clear she doubted she did. “Why are you worried?”

Suddenly she was rearing back, one hand going to her head as the motion irritated her growing headache.

That was definitely guilt. She hadn’t even done anything to the guy, but it was like he was lecturing her without even knowing that what she did for a living. It was a swift reminder that she lived in a completely different world from most people.

Not a very nice reminder, either.

“Yeah,” She murmured, her voice a bit absent. Her smile faded and her eyes shifted downwards. “Last option sorta thing.”

Well, to be fair, it was her last option. At first.

Now it was her only option.

And how did this guy have the ability to make her feel like a scolded child without even realizing it? She’d just met him!

Next he’s going to tell me ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed,’ or something like that. Jesus.

“I hate the thought of ever hurting someone, whether it be intentional or not, or even if it’s required to stop a criminal. So that’s why I always try to at least try to pull them or grab their wrist to stop them from running, things like that!” 

“Ehehe, if my boss heard me talking like this, he’d probably snatch away my badge! Since cops are supposed to be the big, bad tough guys and all!” He laughed. 

He really was strange for a cop.

“You know,” She started, her voice a little more easy now. A little more trusting. “I usually don’t care for cops much. Don’t really trust them, not with all the violent stuff you hear about.”

And she’d been on the other side of the violence too, once or twice. Joining Remy made you a target, willing or not.

“But you’re not so bad,” She said, the smile back in her voice. “Think you might be the nicest cop I’ve met.”

Hell, maybe even the nicest person in quite some while.

But now wasn’t the time to be considering how nice he was compared to Finley and the others. Now, she thought as they approached a house, was the time to figure out how she was going to explain away the better half of her wounds.

She was used to being wide awake this late. Considering her job was usually done late at night, she kept strange hours. This was bordering on ridiculous though.

She couldn’t find it to be a bad thing, though. This guy was interesting, and a lot brighter than most people she’d met.

“Yeah, no, no fighting here!”

If only she could stop being so damn obvious.

“Because honestly, even as a police detective that can deal with some really rough criminals at times, I try to use offense as a last resort option. Because I always feel so…bad if I ever hurt anyone psychically, even in self-defense.”

That was definitely guilt. She hadn’t even done anything to the guy, but it was like he was lecturing her without even knowing that what she did for a living. It was a swift reminder that she lived in a completely different world from most people.

Not a very nice reminder, either.

“Yeah,” She murmured, her voice a bit absent. Her smile faded and her eyes shifted downwards. “Last option sorta thing.”

Well, to be fair, it was her last option. At first.

Now it was her only option.

And how did this guy have the ability to make her feel like a scolded child without even realizing it? She’d just met him!

Next he’s going to tell me ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed,’ or something like that. Jesus.

Well, no. There was one time someone thought she was twelve. But either way, it was still amusing.

“You call thirty-three old?” She asked, a smile in her voice. “Old is the last word I would describe you with. Not many old people pop up and offer to carry you on their back.”

All red flags she might’ve had before were quickly fading away. This guy was no threat to her, not as he was, and he was actually proving to be very good company. It had been a while since she met someone so…nice. It was refreshing, especially since she was used to her only interactions being with an irritable Finley, an opponent swinging at her, or with, well…Remy.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fulbright,” She replied, still smiling. “Although I wish it would’ve been when I was less beaten up.”

She realized her word choice had been…poor. She quickly covered with a laugh.

“Metaphorically speaking.”

This little walk home was surprisingly peaceful, he thought, as he was relieved it wasn’t an atmosphere of awkward silence…although her choice of words soon left a horrified expression on his face,

She was used to being wide awake this late. Considering her job was usually done late at night, she kept strange hours. This was bordering on ridiculous though.

She couldn’t find it to be a bad thing, though. This guy was interesting, and a lot brighter than most people she’d met.

“Yeah, no, no fighting here!”

If only she could stop being so damn obvious.

But he was insistent, and she was rather tired. Arguing was just going to take more out of her.

Listening to him put her at ease. Yeah, there was no way this guy was dangerous. Provided he didn’t find out about her actual profession, anyway.

Despite her worries, she found a smile building on her face as he spoke, and when he mentioned ‘young’ she let out a faint snort.

“Just how old do you think I am?” She asked, amusement in her voice. “I’m twenty-five. Do I really look that young?”

Still, it was kind of endearing to see someone who still practiced what their parents taught them. Maybe if she had she wouldn’t be in the mess she was.

Ah well, live and learn.

Still, he was relieved to see her finally smile, as it looked like she was beginning to feel more comfortable and trustworthy about him, turning head back so that he wouldn’t bump into a pole or anything if he did not see where he was walking. 

“Mizuki, hm? Well, it’s nice to meet you! And I’m Detective Fulbright: Bobby Fulbright!” 

Well, no. There was one time someone thought she was twelve. But either way, it was still amusing.

“You call thirty-three old?” She asked, a smile in her voice. “Old is the last word I would describe you with. Not many old people pop up and offer to carry you on their back.”

All red flags she might’ve had before were quickly fading away. This guy was no threat to her, not as he was, and he was actually proving to be very good company. It had been a while since she met someone so…nice. It was refreshing, especially since she was used to her only interactions being with an irritable Finley, an opponent swinging at her, or with, well…Remy.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fulbright,” She replied, still smiling. “Although I wish it would’ve been when I was less beaten up.”

She realized her word choice had been…poor. She quickly covered with a laugh.

“Metaphorically speaking.”

“M’ a grown woman,” She mumbled. Okay. So she fought the urge, but that didn’t mean she beat the urge.

For a few moments when they simply stood there, she quirked a brow, confused as to what he could be thinking about. Of course, she wasn’t in much of a position to complain, so she waited patiently for him to speak again.

When he did she had a decision to make. Should she really trust the guy that much? He seemed genuine, and she was normally pretty decent at reading people. Besides, it seemed a better idea than going home to Finley.

I’ve got my knife, if it comes to it, she thought, though she was still hesitant. Then again, that uniform didn’t look fake, and he had already had plenty of chance to hurt her if he was going to. The park was practically empty.

There was still one other factor to consider, though.

“Aaand as an officer, it’s pretty much my job to worry too much about everyone, hah!” He chuckled, giving her a bright smile. 

“And I guess you could say that it’s also because my parents would always drill into my head as a kid that staying out late by yourself is not safe, because dangerous people could be lurking. My mom would especially say this: since she can be paranoid and kiiinda overprotective, but I’m not complaining! Better than her not caring enough, right?” 

But he was insistent, and she was rather tired. Arguing was just going to take more out of her.

Listening to him put her at ease. Yeah, there was no way this guy was dangerous. Provided he didn’t find out about her actual profession, anyway.

Despite her worries, she found a smile building on her face as he spoke, and when he mentioned ‘young’ she let out a faint snort.

“Just how old do you think I am?” She asked, amusement in her voice. “I’m twenty-five. Do I really look that young?”

Still, it was kind of endearing to see someone who still practiced what their parents taught them. Maybe if she had she wouldn’t be in the mess she was.

Ah well, live and learn.

Tagged by: justicerevivved

 FULL NAME:  Mizuki Holt

GENDER & SEXUALITY: Female & Heterosexual

ETHNICITY & SPECIES: Japanese/Norwegian & Human

BIRTHPLACE & BIRTHDATE: Osaka, Japan. Born September 8, 1991. Fucking 90’s kid. 25 years old.

GUILTY PLEASURES:  She has a secret collection of cheesy and cute novels/manga. Ranges from romance to simple fluff. She’s also absolutely in love with cheesy old eighties movies and the like, especially in the post-apocalyptic genre. Talking classic Mad Max and the works.

PHOBIAS:  Tomophobia (fear of invasive medical procedures), Ethismosophobia (fear of addiction), both caused by her current line of work.

WHAT THEY WOULD BE INFAMOUS FOR:  Working for Remy in general. Other than that, being the punching bag in the Lady Fortune fighting ring who occasionally gives an ass whooping in return (but not often).

WHAT HAVE THEY / WOULD THEY HAVE GOTTEN ARRESTED FOR: Being an accomplice to Remy Moreau, participating in illegal underground fights, petty thievery.

CHARACTER YOU SHIP THEM WITH: Mizuki doesn’t have very many in depth relationships yet, so no real ship yet.

CHARACTER MOST LIKELY TO MURDER THEM: Remy Moreau. Just because he hasn’t yet doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about.

FAVOURITE BOOK GENRE: Romance (secretly), High or Urban Fantasy.

LEAST FAVOURITE BOOK CLICHÉ: Defenseless Damsel trope. She finds it extremely outdated and prefers a novel that explores relationships on equal grounds.  

TALENTS & / OR POWERS: No powers. She’s fast and nimble, with a bit of power behind her punches. Most all of her talents lie in her speed and agility, however. She’s also good at distractions.

WHY SOMEONE MIGHT LOVE THEM: She’s very friendly and free spirited. She just wants to have some fun and live her life in a way she enjoys. She’s easy going and loves being around people. Always ready to lend a hand to someone she likes/trusts.

WHY SOMEONE MIGHT HATE THEM: A bit too headstrong at times, and a little too adventurous. Ready to help someone, but just as likely to get them into trouble. Also extremely unlucky at times. Lots of extremely difficult hospital visits (she doesn’t like hospitals much at all).

HOW THEY CHANGE:  Since joining with Remy’s fighting ring, her tendency to be a little too adventurous and stubborn has tapered down. She used to also have a fear of being too dependent on people, but relying on Finley has helped her overcome that. She’s mellowed out a lot since first arriving at the Lady Fortune.

WHY YOU LOVE THEM: I share her free spirited mentality and I love having a character that isn’t so grumpy or assholey. She’s genuinely just here to have a laff, m8. She’s easy going and it’s always fun to see how she’ll interact with someone new. She’s my cinnamon roll.  

Her face flushed in embarrassment and she hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t a child! And the last thing she needed was for Finley or any of the others to see her being carried around like one. They’d never let her live it down!

But, from what she could tell of this man, he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Normally that persistence might worry her, but something about this guy screamed that he was genuine.

With a quiet grumble she maneuvered herself onto his back, wincing as she agitated some of her bruises and cuts.

“Going, ah, home might not be a good idea,” She murmured, hoping he wouldn’t press. “If there’s a restaurant or somethin’ nearby, that might be better. I can wait there.”

“Hmmm? Not a good idea? Oh, I get it: snuck out the house and don’t want ya parents or whoever grounding you for it?” He chuckled. “I’m just kidding: but at this time of night, I very highly doubt you are going to find any place open that you can stay in.” 

He stood silent for a moment, pondering what to do. (”Should I just…take her back to my house? I mean, at least then, I can tend to those wounds…”) 

“Hmm…if it’s okay with you, how about I take you to my home? I’ll help tend to those wounds that you have. But I won’t force you to if you say no: after all, I still am just a stranger and I do not want to break your trust…” 

“M’ a grown woman,” She mumbled. Okay. So she fought the urge, but that didn’t mean she beat the urge.

For a few moments when they simply stood there, she quirked a brow, confused as to what he could be thinking about. Of course, she wasn’t in much of a position to complain, so she waited patiently for him to speak again.

When he did she had a decision to make. Should she really trust the guy that much? He seemed genuine, and she was normally pretty decent at reading people. Besides, it seemed a better idea than going home to Finley.

I’ve got my knife, if it comes to it, she thought, though she was still hesitant. Then again, that uniform didn’t look fake, and he had already had plenty of chance to hurt her if he was going to. The park was practically empty.

There was still one other factor to consider, though.

Dammit, stop that!

She couldn’t meet his gaze after the second time of refusing his help. He looked too concerned, and she really wasn’t used to that. Finley showed concern, as did their flat mates, but not to this extent.

He seemed ready to leave. His instructions were met with a faint, almost pained smile.

Believe me, pal. If I could take off, I would. Permanently.

“I will, thank you,” She said, trying to sound as cheerful and optimistic as she could. No reason to worry the guy anymore, right?

And then he asked if she would be able to walk.

He sounded firm about that.

Shit.

“Oh, I can walk just fine!” She said, sounding more confident than she felt. She decided the best way was to prove it. She’d had a bit of trouble getting there before, but she’d had time to rest. Surely her legs would be in better condition. “Look!”

She stood and took a careful step forward…

And her legs buckled almost immediately. She hit the ground with a quiet curse and a laugh that was almost as shaky as she felt.

“Nope, not at all…” He sighed, walking over to her and kneeling down. “Are you okay? But yes, that does it: I’m going to be taking you home! Say what you might, but I won’t allow you to sit here any longer in a potentially dangerous area with the kind of weirdos that could lurk around!” 

And so, he turned around, back facing her. “Climb on: I’ll carry you on my back to your house. I’m sure that, whoever’s there, they’ll feel much more relieved knowing that an officer escorted back nice and safe, yeah?”

Her face flushed in embarrassment and she hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t a child! And the last thing she needed was for Finley or any of the others to see her being carried around like one. They’d never let her live it down!

But, from what she could tell of this man, he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Normally that persistence might worry her, but something about this guy screamed that he was genuine.

With a quiet grumble she maneuvered herself onto his back, wincing as she agitated some of her bruises and cuts.

“Going, ah, home might not be a good idea,” She murmured, hoping he wouldn’t press. “If there’s a restaurant or somethin’ nearby, that might be better. I can wait there.”

Besides, a thick stack of cash waiting for her when she left the bar was plenty of incentive to overlook her bumps and bruises.

The bartender made idle chatter with her for a while as she downed a few shots to dull the ache. Her chest started to feel warm and her head just shy of fuzzy when she decided to slow down and prepare to head home.

One of the servers at the bar had helped her bandage up her head. It hadn’t been a lot of blood, but still enough to be concerned with. Other than that, the fight had gone fairly well and she was pleased.

Now she just had to make it through, well, about a hell of a lot more.

She could have a concussion and no one was taking her to the hospital or even a doctor’s to have her looked over.

The fact that she was laying her head down on the bar like she was going to pass out didn’t bode well either.

He didn’t want to care. Jigen had had enough trouble with women in the past to know when it was best to turn the other way. But if this woman died because he didn’t say anything he’s never be able to let it go.

With a sigh he got up from his stool and came over with his drink.

When she heard a voice she didn’t recognize and looked up she saw a man that she had most definitely not seen at the bar before. Her brow hitched but she shrugged her shoulders and gestured to the stool beside her.

Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. She did fall.

She was just punched a few times before she did.

“Ah, it’s not that far,” She said quickly, trying to wave off his worry. She felt pretty guilty about it, though. The man seemed genuinely worried, but there was little she could do to ease his mind without full out telling the truth. And that would be bad for her. “I was planning on walking there after I rested up a bit.”

Parents? She was somewhat amused at the notion. She must’ve looked a bit younger in the lighting, or maybe he just assumed they lived in the city. No, the closest thing in this city to a parent was Finley, and she did not want to wake him to come get her. She didn’t think she could take the lecture.

“Some of these are from a bit of an accident the other day,” She said, trying to appease him. They all looked pretty fresh, though…

 He still was worried, but did not want to possibly irritate or bother her if he kept insisting on trying to aid her, which she really could use, even if she was brushing him off, mostly. 

“Whatever accident you got into…I hope it does not happen again. Do make sure to take some days off of your job or college to rest up properly, okay?” (”Should I really just leave her here? She says she’ll go home soon, but…she does not look like she is in any condition to be walking home alone, especially with the kinds of shady people that tend to lurk at night.”)

“O….Okay…though honestly, I really do not like the idea of you walking home alone at this time of night with injuries like that: can you at least walk well enough?” He asked, deciding that he will not leave her here if she has trouble walking.

Dammit, stop that!

She couldn’t meet his gaze after the second time of refusing his help. He looked too concerned, and she really wasn’t used to that. Finley showed concern, as did their flat mates, but not to this extent.

He seemed ready to leave. His instructions were met with a faint, almost pained smile.

Believe me, pal. If I could take off, I would. Permanently.

“I will, thank you,” She said, trying to sound as cheerful and optimistic as she could. No reason to worry the guy anymore, right?

And then he asked if she would be able to walk.

He sounded firm about that.

Shit.

“Oh, I can walk just fine!” She said, sounding more confident than she felt. She decided the best way was to prove it. She’d had a bit of trouble getting there before, but she’d had time to rest. Surely her legs would be in better condition. “Look!”

She stood and took a careful step forward…

And her legs buckled almost immediately. She hit the ground with a quiet curse and a laugh that was almost as shaky as she felt.

She turned to face the stranger, only to freeze as she took in the uniform.

Shit, just my luck! She thought, an almost pained look falling over her face before she could help it. It’s a cop!

However, when she heard the nervous lilt in his voice and the look of worry on his face-or what she could see of it in the low park light-she felt herself relax. He just wanted to help, and she felt bad enough that she had caused so much worry. He looked nice enough.

But she really didn’t fancy getting arrested.

“O-oh!” She said, nervous laughter escaping her. Yeah, looking inconspicuous when put on the spot was not her thing. “I-I’m fine, really! Took a fall on my way home. Just a few bumps and bruises!”

And bleeding lip, swollen cheek, several cuts-

But when she told him the “reason”, he found that very, very odd: even a nasty spill to the ground could not possibly leave someone those kinds of damages, even if she fell on a hard or concrete floor. 

“M-Miss, unless you fell from a skyscraper, you could not possibly get these kinds of injuries, could you?” He retorted, an even more worried look on his face. 

“I’m an officer, so…I would like to help you; do you need help going home? If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you on my back. Is your home nearby here? Or did you call your parents and they’re on the way?” 

He asked, wondering just what in the world really happened. (”I wonder if she got caught up in a nasty fight; I mostly certainly hope not.”) 

Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. She did fall.

She was just punched a few times before she did.

“Ah, it’s not that far,” She said quickly, trying to wave off his worry. She felt pretty guilty about it, though. The man seemed genuinely worried, but there was little she could do to ease his mind without full out telling the truth. And that would be bad for her. “I was planning on walking there after I rested up a bit.”

Parents? She was somewhat amused at the notion. She must’ve looked a bit younger in the lighting, or maybe he just assumed they lived in the city. No, the closest thing in this city to a parent was Finley, and she did not want to wake him to come get her. She didn’t think she could take the lecture.

“Some of these are from a bit of an accident the other day,” She said, trying to appease him. They all looked pretty fresh, though…

The last thing she had expected that day was to find herself settled on a park bench well after midnight, nursing several cuts on her arms and a busted lip. The bar hadn’t been too friendly to her after her last fight, so she hadn’t dared stay to treat her injuries there. With everything else closed or unlikely to admit a bleeding patron without asking too many questions, she took to the park.

It was empty, save for maybe a few junkies loitering here or there. Even they wouldn’t dare walk up to someone who looked like her at the moment. She imagined she looked like hell.

She pressed a cloth against some of her cuts, washing them as best she could with the simple water bottle she’d had with her. She’d entertained the idea of going home, but Finley would likely still be awake. He’d warned her not to take the fight, but she had anyway.

The last thing she wanted was her mentor yelling at her and making her headache worse. That would just wake up the other roommates in the house, and they’d all coddle her too.

With a sigh, she reached into her backpack and retrieved a few bandages, hoping it would do the trick until she could get home. Whenever that was.

“God, I’m an idiot,” She murmured, though there was a strange sense of humor in her tone.

(”Guuugh, can’t wait to get the weekend off to in order to find a nice house or whatnot to buy, along with a car; I do NOT like walking alone at night!!”)

He sighed, now beginning to walk through the park area, not surprised to see a few others hanging about here and there, hoping that no one around would have intentions of causing trouble later.

“…..! Hmmmm..?” When he saw the bench approaching, he noticed a girl sitting on it, trying to heal herself as she looked very injured. (”O-Oh my goodness, is she okay?! What happened to her?! I wonder if I should check up on her…”) 

But before he knew it, he was already making his way over there, gently approaching her so that he wouldn’t scare her or anything. “E-Excuse me…ma’am? Are you okay? You look awfully injured! Are you in any condition to be able to walk home..?”

She turned to face the stranger, only to freeze as she took in the uniform.

Shit, just my luck! She thought, an almost pained look falling over her face before she could help it. It’s a cop!

However, when she heard the nervous lilt in his voice and the look of worry on his face-or what she could see of it in the low park light-she felt herself relax. He just wanted to help, and she felt bad enough that she had caused so much worry. He looked nice enough.

But she really didn’t fancy getting arrested.

“O-oh!” She said, nervous laughter escaping her. Yeah, looking inconspicuous when put on the spot was not her thing. “I-I’m fine, really! Took a fall on my way home. Just a few bumps and bruises!”

And bleeding lip, swollen cheek, several cuts-