[sylvanSpider]

Liam fell silent, his question seeming to fall on deaf ears. Initially, the only sounds he could pick up were those of their footsteps – the clicking of her quicker shorter footfalls, and the padding of his own rubbered soles. Their silence, while not the most comforting in the presence of a stranger, allowed him to get a bearing of his surroundings. He took in the streetsigns, the landmarks, making notes of any and every slight turn. The mystery as to where they were going had him on edge. For all he knew, the reason she was in ready need of servants was because she was a serial killer. The thought was absurd, of course, but he had to ready regardless.

The ground shook beneath his feet, and momentarily he jumped, expecting some explosion or other. But when none came and there was no surprise from his master, he took solace in that this was probably normal. “Yes, that's correct. I've yet to lay eyes on the likes of you; you are completely foreign to me, as is this area.” He cringed, hearing the sound of metals – if any of those were iron, he was going to be suffering for a while, but forced a more pleasant expression when he noticed she was now talking to him. Liam shook his head, “That won't do. Money does not interest me.” His voice was calm, collected. The voice of one who was at once obedient and completely in control. A servant's life was one of servitude, seemingly the opposite of dominant. But, there was more to that. In order for a servant to remain sturdy, they must always be in control of the self and the self's reactions. “I'll counter your proposition with a secret of mine own. One I expect you to keep, should we part ways. It will be secret for secret. My secret is necessary knowledge that you will need to have should I serve you long term. Do we have a deal?”

Liam watched with steady eyes as the woman donned her mask, his curiosity looming ever closer. Whatever was going to happen within the next few minutes would be the likes he'd never seen. The box no longer in his hand, he nodded to show understanding, “I will do as you say.” He lifted his sleeve and glanced at the well-worn watch on his wrist and nodded, watching. Once his master disappeared behind the corner and checked his watch once more, approaching the doorman exactly five minutes later. “Belladonna sent me,” he said, matter-of-factly. The man guarding the door stepped aside and ushered him in.

He took his place among the sea of faces, rising to his feet to get a better look throughout the course of the show. He recognized his master immediately, watching to see both what she did as well as her bot. Victory after victory was won, and he felt his heart welling with pride that he would be the one to serve her.

Always keeping a careful eye on his master, he recognized the glint of a gun's shiny surface and he immediately began to push his way through the crowd, until he stepped in front of her, separating her from the rest of the crowd, arms up to show he had no weapons, “Gentlemen, is there a reason you are behaving like savages? I hope that you realize that flashing guns around because you lost makes you look like a child and a sore loser. I sincerely doubt the owner of this arena would stand for the loss of his main attraction. Now, before you look more foolish, don't you think it best to stand down?”