Chapter Text
All the Overlords descend the rusty, damp spiral staircase, following the glow on the walls down into the club. Camilla frowns, asking "Where did she get enough water for the railing to be damp? How is this even possible?" Because it is damp, something that should be impossible in Pride Ring - the metal's cold, pitted, and her hand comes away with water dripping off her fingers.
Vox frowns, glancing at the glowing wall - that's concerning, that's really concerning, even in Hell walls don't glow unless there's something in them - and says "A question to ask her, I'm not sure."
Alastor smirks, one corner of his mouth twitching higher, and says "She's had ten years to amass her stores of water, as well as cement herself very immovably in this district. And, given the detail that nobody even knew she was here until recently…it'll be quite entertaining to discover her secrets."
They step out into the club itself, and Vox has to stop and stare for a minute - the place is absolutely packed. There's people everywhere, so much so he can barely make out the layer of fog covering the floor about ankle-high. He has to admit…it's certainly a whole different experience when the place is in full-swing than when it's completely empty. For one…the place is loud, voices all echoing off one another and mixing together.
For another, it's still gotta be at least twenty degrees cooler in here, even with what should be a mess of body heat, than it is outside.
Camilla glances around, and murmurs "She built a nightclub…in an echo-chamber. And filled it to the brim with humidity, fog, and water hidden somewhere around here." Water they can't see, can't hear with all the noise, and have no way of locating.
She's not easily impressed by much...she's impressed by this, though.
After finding an open table, Camilla gives Vox a stern look and quietly asks "What are we doing here, Vox? Really doing here? The owner is…you said-"
Vox quietly says "I said you might like the owner, and it makes for a good neutral ground to talk business."
"You say that like there's any expectation of privacy in an underground echo chamber with no other obvious rooms."
Vox glances around, and murmurs "I hadn't thought it'd be this popular…" And then, he sees a familiar white form making its way through the crowd - fucking Angel Dust, of course he's here.
~She told you to your face he's her new employee as of the last time she was at the Hotel. What made you think he wouldn't be here when the place is open?~
*Why is that damned whore always interfering-*
~He works for her, Vox. She offered him a job with no strings or contracts attached, he accepted. Don't lose your head and fry a circuit just because he's on shift, she'll likely ban you just like Valentino, and then there's no chance of you seeing her face-to-face unless you want to have her kidnapped. And, Vox? That's easier said than done, kidnapping someone who can not only turn into liquid and slip down a drain but control water in a place filled with it.~
Vox grits his teeth, but doesn't respond - Alastor's…not wrong. He's really not wrong - the very air has enough moisture in it that his screen is already building up condensation, and he remembers the sounds of water from the first time he was here.
Suddenly, a chair forms out of water and freezes just before Sirenna sits down between Rosie and Zestial before passing out menus. "So," she says, "as it's the first time here for most of you, I feel I should let you know up front we have a three-drink limit. You can stay as long or as little as you want up to closing time, so long as you don't cause any trouble or break club rules, but you get a max of three drinks and one meal regardless of if you spend three minutes or three hours here."
Rosie raises one eyebrow, asking "What kind of bar has a drink limit?" Call her curious, it just doesn't seem like a good business practice.
Sirenna flatly says "The kind that doesn't run dry by two in the morning. And, yes, that limit applies to non-alcoholic drinks as well."
There's a beat of silence, and then the corner of Rosie's mouth twitches upwards as she says "Al really didn't exaggerate about you, then. I'm starting to like ya already."
Sirenna gives Alastor a deadpan look, gets a shameless grin in response, and pinches the bridge of her nose before muttering "Wonderful." After a minute, she says "Order something and fork out the cash, or sit here and watch the crowd until you get bored and leave, it's no skin off my back. Also, you'd better have definitive proof these two are biologically older than twenty-one, or they're getting nonalcoholic drinks only."
Camilla blinks a few times, then incredulously asks "You're worried about if they're…underage, of all things?!" She…did not expect that, not in the slightest.
Rosie snickers, and says "Can't say I saw this coming."
Sirenna flatly says "They look like they're twelve. Fourteen, at the very oldest."
Clara and Odette sputter, and Odette indignantly says "I'm seventeen! And Clara's only one year younger!"
Sirenna gives Camilla the most unimpressed, judgmental stare Vox has ever seen anyone give her.
Camilla blinks, then asks "What's with that look?"
"You brought two teenagers into a nightclub set under a never-ending warzone dominated by endlessly-rivaling gangs that will shoot at each other up to five minutes before Extermination Day starts. And they don't usually care who gets caught in the crossfire. You tell me."
Camilla blinks a few times, then mutters "You definitely had kids of your own."
"They aren't down here," Sirenna icily says, "and I for damn sure wouldn't tell you even if they were."
Camilla blinks, then nods her head. "I see. It would have been too obvious, had I left Clara and Odette behind. They attend all business meetings with me unless something that needs my attention comes up - then, they handle it in my stead."
Sirenna crosses her arms, and says "Your kids are your top employees? In an arms-dealing business?" If she looks and sounds like her opinion of the Black Market Arms Dealer sitting across from her is getting lower and lower...it is. Her teenage daughters are in the middle of the arms-dealing, and she just openly admitted to bringing them along to her underground nightclub in the single most dangerous part of town...to keep up appearances, of all things.
Camilla shrugs, saying "Between the two of them, they could run the entire business with no trouble. They helped me build it from the ground up, you see." While she isn't going to sit here and let Sirenna judge her children...she can't help but respect the immediate attention to the detail that her daughters are minors. It's...unexpectedly refreshing, really.
Odette scowls, and says "You don't know anything about us!"
"I know you're too young to be drinking alcohol at two in the morning in a nightclub underneath a perpetual warzone. I also know if anything happens to you two in here, your arms-dealer mother here will hold me personally responsible."
Clara asks "What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Means you two are getting fruit juice or sparkling water and nothing else to drink in here, I don't care who you're with or what they say. You're walking out of here stone-cold sober or I'm dragging you both back to her and informing her you two are banned."
Alastor hums, grin getting even wider, and says "Your rules upstairs didn't mention anything about minors, you know."
Sirenna flatly says "I shouldn't need to specify that I won't get children drunk."
"Well," Camilla says, "you aren't wrong about that." She…is starting to like this woman, against all the odds. Vox…may have been onto something about her liking the owner of this bar.
After a moment, everybody places drink orders and pays for them, and she writes them down on a napkin before heading over to the bar. After about five minutes, she comes back with a tray full of drinks that melts into water as soon as it touches the table before sliding onto the floor. At all their looks, she says "Hydrokinesis. You get used to it. And, incidentally…you get me. And only me. Because, having seen and heard how some Overlords treat people that actually work for them - or used to work for them for that matter - I currently don't think any of you are capable of treating my staff with a modicum of basic respect."
Camilla raises one eyebrow, asking "What?"
"Blame your more public, visible members. They give the impression that the only thing any of you respect is power. So, until I'm proven very wrong and most Overlords are actually capable of treating people that aren't Overlord-level powerful with basic decency…you get me and only me bringing you your food and drinks."
At all their dumbfounded looks, she takes a sip of her Ocean Breeze and says "I actually give a damn about my employees' wellbeing. You can accept it or get the fuck out of my building. Your choice."
Vox opens his mouth to say something - likely to ask about that specific wording, it sounds vaguely familiar - when he notices a figure stopping at the counter Sirenna's got her back to. And then his stomach drops into somewhere around his toes when that figure turns around and he recognizes her.
Sirenna glances back behind her, and sees exactly who he's staring at. "Ah, noticed my other new employee, have you? Recognize her, Vox?"
Well, Vox thinks, that explains the phrasing…aw, fuck.
Because...he does recognize her, after a moment. Of course his wife somehow managed to find one of the people they tried to replace Angel Dust with.
Rosie asks "Oh? Who's she?"
"My bartender found her getting molested by a pack of about five Sinners because of the Vees on her way here the same day I hired Anthony. She brought Monica here, now she works for me to."
Camilla pinches the bridge of her nose, then asks "Do I even want to know why you say she was getting molested because of the Vees?" This woman's opinion of Overlords is clearly abysmal as it is, the last thing she actually needed to confirm those opinions is a sob story from a disgruntled former employee...especially if said sob-story turns out to be true.
Sirenna says "Depends. How much of their business practices do you know about and how much shit do you put up with when it comes to business?"
Vox feels his screen glitch, and says "She was briefly an employee of ours, and it…didn't exactly work out, to put it mildly." He doesn't even need to look at Sirenna to know the look she's got on her face.
"Mildly," she says, voice cold as ice, "that's what you call it, hm? About as mild as milk. You used her all you could, telling her she had star potential of all things to hook her on the idea of being famous, then tossed her to the side when it didn't pan out the way you promised."
Vox tries to backtrack as Camilla pinches the bridge of her nose before giving him a flat 'are you kidding me?!' stare, saying "There were a few more factors than-"
Sirenna leans forward, hissing "Fuck's sake, you money-minded, power-hungry bastard, she can't even go outside thanks to the three of you! And, your bedwarmer-pimp had her hooked on that date-rape drug you mass-produce."
~Vox, you idiot-~
*I know, Al, I know!*
Sirenna takes a long, slow sip from her drink, draining it to about halfway-dry, and eventually says "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick you out and ban you for afterlife so you can't get anywhere near either of them ever again. Because, if you think for one instant I can't freeze the CEO of VoxTek in a block of ice and leave you to thaw out somewhere else in the District, you're sorely mistaken."
Alastor hums and links his fingers under his chin, looking for all the world like he's getting endless amounts of entertainment from this, and says "Well, how about a Gentlemen's Agreement, then? You let him stay, seeing as he's currently a paying customer that has yet to do anything to get himself kicked out, and we'll all be on our best behavior."
"You actually know what good behavior is? I'm shocked speechless."
Not a minute later, though, they hear a commotion from the bar and see Monica basically trapped between two barstools as a much larger Sinner looms over her. Anthony starts elbowing his way through the crowd, yelling "Hey, asshole, get the fuck away from her!"
Suddenly, a pressurized jet of water shoots out from the floor and nails the Sinner square in the head with a shattering sound that means she froze the head of the Jet before it connected. Two more jets knock the Sinner further away from Monica and onto the floor, giving him a broken jaw, concussion, and two cracked ribs at least - and then, to the Overlords' shock, ice encases the Sinner entirely. By the time Sirenna's done, maybe twenty seconds tops, said Sinner is trapped in a block of ice thick as a coffin.
~Well, seems she was serious about being frozen in a block of ice.~
*Yep…holy shit, Al.*
~Any idea where those jets of water came from, exactly?~
*Not a single clue, Al...holy shit, my wife is a total badass powerhouse.*
~You act like that's a complete surprise, considering the detail Killjoy still hasn't turned up.~
*Knowing it and seeing it in action are two different things, Al.
Sirenna turns back to them, and says "Quid pro quo is your game, is it Radio Demon? Fine, two can play that game. You all behave, you can stay. But, any single one of you puts so much as half a toe out of line," she spears Vox with a look that says she absolutely expects it to be him, "and I'm freezing all of you in a block of ice and Clara and Odette here can push you wherever. Clear?" She gets a round of agreements from everyone seated, and then gulps the rest of her drink down before the glass melts back into water that vanishes beneath the fog covering the floor.
Glancing back at them, she says "Enjoy your time down here, and try to keep it down. Everything echoes in here, you see. Now, whether you excuse me or not, I've got to check in with my employee and let my bouncer know there's an addition to the list of Banned people."
Turning to the crowd of onlookers, she calls out "Whoever wants this idiot, you get to get him out of here! And, no, I don't care what happens to him, do whatever you want once he's well away from here since he's never getting back in here again!"
Going over to Monica, she has a few words with the woman who's starting to tremble like a leaf, gets a shaky nod before taking both of Monica's hands in one of her own, and then they both head over to the entrance; they vanish for a few minutes, and Sirenna comes back with Cherri Bomb following and no Monica in sight. Cherri snaps a picture of the Sinner's face with an Instant Camera and the picture prints out as about eight Sinners that are apparently from the same gang all come over and haul the Sinner-sicle up to cart him out.
Camilla, her daughters, and Zestial are all quietly looking around at the floor - more specifically, at the fog covering the floor - and Camilla mutters "You left out a lot of details, Vox."
"In my defense, Camilla, I hadn't known that could happen either."
"Vox," Casmilla hisses, "she can make an attack appear out of anywhere in this room! And you let us just waltz in here with zero warning of that?!" Whether Sirenna is the violent type or not...they're all sitting in the Kraken's den and she's the Kraken! Seems she can, in fact, freeze all of them in a block of ice - and do so with very little trouble, since she has access to water in every singe inch of this room they're in!