Dedestra Explains The Deal

During their 6th "date" or what they called their reverse interview, Visell meets Dedestra's family. She understands the tensions he has with her father. She senses her hatred, noticing the copious beer bottles around as well as never wanting to talk about her father. Seeing her interact with him was eye-opening. On the contrary, her mother and little brothers were the pinnacles of Dedestra's praise and attention. Visell would slightly grin at Dedestra's straight-laced demeanor fade when helping her little brother with homework. The atmosphere was thrown for a wrench when Dedestra, answers the door while eating a fresh dumpling her mom had made, smiling from seeing Visell bantering with her mother to have it dashed away when a man appeared at the door she knew all too well.
Visell laughing with Dedestra's mother as they talk about school and fashion. Dedestra looks over and smiles, delight that Visell is getting along with her mother.
BANG BANG BANG! Dedestra's mother scoffs nervously "¿Quién está llamando tan fuerte a las puertas de la gente a esta hora? Bastardo!" Dedestra, drys her hands. "I'll get the door, mamá . . . you two trouble makers stay and enjoy your talk." She says with an uncharacteristically large smirk as she exits. Her mother replies tenderly setting back down resting her exhausted muscles.
"Gracias, mi Hija! So, Symown I hear you're the daughter of some superstars!" Visell scoffs with a smirk that fades quickly! "I mean not really superstars . . . but they are famous. To be honest, I don't like talking about my mom too much." Visell's flinches! "N-Not that we're not close, we are! J'aime ma mère . . . She's a freaking Boss! It's just people get the wrong idea about me like . . . I'm flaunting her like some dumb rich kid! But C'est la vie and blazer blazer. My Father . . . is" "Soulman Shiazuki!" Dedestra's mom asserts enthusiastically. Visell springs up to attention, "Yeah! N. . .no offense Mrs. . .Dede-" She interjects again "Call me Mrs. Nocheze, mi Hija," She says tenderly. Visell blushes "Mrs. Nocheze, No offense but you probably think he's some monster like everyone else, right?" Mrs. Nocheze snickers "Mi Hija, Most people are liable to be blinded simply by word of mouth." Mrs. Nocheze rests her hand on Visell's shoulder "Your father is the reason w-"
The homely mood is broken when Dedestra proclaims in hushed tones with her usual stern voice! "Were you not informed that we had other company today(!?)"
DEDESTRA'S PERSPECTIVE: Dedestra exits the doorway, She spots little Jin sitting, playing games on his phone, a small smirk escapes her, Her dad sleeping and slobbering in his drunken stupor, wipes the smile from her face as she picks up the empty bottles on her way to the doors. Dedestra shuffles to the door as she grabs the flimsy knob she looks back at Visell, jovially conversing, and smiles as she turns the knob, As she opens the door and turns to meet the gaze of the visitor a wave of smoke latches on to her face and invades her nostrils. She starts coughing frantically while covering her mouth. She bats the smoke out of her face to see an all too familiar face. Her pupils shrink and her heart drops, a weight of anguish creeps down her back. [God, Please No! No!] "Mr. Okira . . . I wasn't expecting you today! Were you not informed that we had other company today(!?)" Okira flares his nostrils as a small puff of smoke comes out, glaring down at her with a rotten gawk. A small voice is heard from behind Okira's big body.

"Tsk tsk tsk! No, No baby that's not the deal." A balding, slim man appears from around Okira, [Issac . . .] "The deal is this Big-Nig can get up in that whenever he damn well pleases, so gets to stepping!
Dedestra says under her breath" But papa said! " Hoe! I will pop your daddy in the mouth right fucking now if I want to and he's still gonna get what he came for, so what's it gonna be? Issac says impetuously in hushed tones. Dedestra balls her fist on the verge of tears, she retains her calm demeanor. Please not today, I beg y-!

She hears the unmistakable cock of a pistol ring from the shadows, She freezes in place as her fist loosen and her hands fall to the side. " a . . .as you wish" Issac turns around and ruffles his coat flaps, "Good girl!" he says as he walks down the wooden stoop. He looks back at Okira and casually says, "Ay, Don't feel bad if you make a mess old boy!" He lets out an indigent cackle as he walks back to his car. Dedestra picks her head up and nervously backs into the house as Okira enters she clasps her hands together at her side. She looks over at Visell's confused and worried expression as her mother tries to push her out.
Visell gets up to look down the hall to see Dedestra hanging her head and balling her fist. Visell sensing her distress instinctually steps to help Dedestra but her mother grips her shoulder "Our apologies it seems we have other company it's a . . . business meeting for my husband, why don't you take some mochi and come back in about an hour?" Visell's reluctant look worries her.
Visell moves towards the doorway. "Sure thing, Mrs. Nocheze, but . . ." put off by the atmosphere, Visell's sense starts going haywire, as she feels everyone's heart rate spike. She looks at Dedestra in confusion as she walks away from the door befuddled, refusing to make eye contact with Visell, her fist balled. Mrs. Nocheze starts to softly push Visell's back kindly yet hastily guiding her to the front door. Visell see's her little brother Jin hiding behind the arm of the green couch, Her father still pretending to sleep, beer can in hand. And the star attraction, Some big burly looking dude, dread headed in a striped shirt, tattered pants. He shoots a glare at her as he's pushed across the hardwood floor. Visell shoots a stronger glare from her side eyes, time slows and the air grows stale as Visell stops, resisting the fore behind her with ease. Visell's eyes take in the whole scene.
"Hey," Visell says nonchalantly to Dedestra. Dedestra holds her arm in frustration. "Hello . . ." Dedestra strains to make full eye contact "My Moped keys are on the table, take it and go back home, okay? I'm, ahem, a bit knackered. Plus, I trust you with it, of course. But I'm a tad bit sleepy to survive a ride to North Konzu." Visell looks up at the potbellied man towering over her as he stares daggers at her. Smoking emanating out of his nostrils. "No need to come back tonight, I'm going to . . . turn in early." Dedestra tentatively looking at the ground. Visell senses the tension in the room swelter. Dedestra's eyes beg Visell to leave. "Sure thing, Zempai!" Visell says in a peppy manner! "It's was blast meeting your fam' and all! Love the Chili Mrs. Nocheze!" "T-Thank you me, Hija." She says with a forced smile. Visell picks up her duffle bag and her backpack and walks to the door. The big guy stares at her the whole way. As she grabs the doorknob, she pauses, everyone else freezes too. "Ay, Yo, big guy . . ." Everyone feels their hearts jump and posteriors tighten. "You really shouldn't smoke in here, I don't think Mrs. Nocheze appreciates that very much. . ." Dedestra glares at Visell in Awe. Visell shoots a subtle, sided-eyed glare at him. Okira sneers at her and flares his nostrils. Visell turns the doorknob, "Just a thought" and walks out tossing Dedestra's keys in her hand, shivering from the relief of tension. [This shit ain't right! I'm sure as shit not going all the way to North Konzu, but I gotta stay close enough to check on her. I'll sleep at Togisa's! No, he's been a bitch. Oh! ZDX45 Is right down the street! Visell starts up the moped and rides down the street, all the while, hoping for Dedestra's safety.
MEANWHILE. As Visell exits, Okira takes the lit cigar from his mouth, he reaches over to the flower vase beside him. Little flacks of as drip down into the water. Gasp! His hand flings around and shoots into Dedestra's hair! She grits her teeth, riles, and sneers as she feels the seeing pain on her temple. A shattering gasp belts from the other side of the room; Her mother start's to tear up As she covers her mouth, holding herself together. Dedestra watches her mother's knees crash to the floor as she crushes the rosery around her neck to her chest before beings shoved towards the hallway. Dedestra starts to walk down the hall to her room. A numb squeezing feeling clasp around the base of her heart as her nail stab into her folded arms. She turns the corner looking at her own bed with fear bed. Her heart jumps at the sensation of a rough pressure on her arse. She's stiffly pushed over the threshold, The light through the doorway subsides and the lamplight dominates the room. She glowers down at her bed, the rustling of clothes springs from behind her along with the metal tinkering of a belt. She takes a deep sigh. And starts to undo the belt of her skirt. She looks over to her nightstand to spot the picture of her and Visell at their favorite record store.
She turns the picture on its face as her skirt drops. The hog-like breathing behind her grows steeper as she removes her shirt and tosses it liberally o the rug. Her knees bend as she arches over the bed. She feels a bruising pressure on her arse once more and a painful, piercing, arid sensation debilitates her body. She brutally twists bed the sheets between as drool seeps past her gritted teeth. Trails of blood drip down her legs, perhaps it's for the best at this point. After the first five minutes, her mind begins to drift to avoid the pain like always.
Drowning out the braying, haggard panting and the creaking of her beg. [I should get some posters on my wall, I've grown sick of the chipping white walls, maybe some paintings her something. Symown knows some good place. At least I'd have something to look at during.] Her head turns to the right as she gazes at her record shelf. [I should reorganize my collection too. Should I do it alphabetically or by year published? Hm, Alphabetically.] Her head turns to her headrest. [What is there to eat? ] Pinch in her abdomen distracts her. Her stomach muscles retch. [What's in the refrigerator? It's much too late to order anything local . . . I reckon there are enough ingredients here to make a few sandwiches.] Another jolt of pain distracts her. [Y . . yes some sandwiches. I probably ought to go shopping before next weekend at the latest. What should I pick up for myself? Perhaps some salmon, and some vegetables. Perhaps Symown can help me with the-]
Her train of thought is derailed by the ripping, burning pain of her hair be yanked back, forcefully arching her back up as she feels the tearing in her scalp. She strangles the sheets with her as her nails bludgeon her covers. The dragging gravel-ish burn in her loins become more and more and more unbearable as if her womanhood was being torn out of her. The creaking of rusty springs curls in her ears like half rusted daggers. Her eyes desperately fixate on a tail comb on her alternate nightstand. The anxiety of blood lust wraps her. [Kill him, Kill him, Kill him, Kill him!]
She unravels one hand from the sheets and claws at her covers trying to retrieve her makeshift weapon in vain. Her hand retracts and climbs up her hair to find his hand, straining her shoulder muscles, she scratches his arm as hard as she can with her shallow black nails. The shooting pain in her lap becomes a staccato bullet of pure unfettered agony. Her teeth nearly break as they grind against each other. The scalp-splitting force on her head subsides as her upper body falls limply to the bed. A final ripping feeling shoots down her legs; leaving an irritating, pulsating, needle-like feeling filling her. She struggles to pick herself, lifting her weight on her arms as she shivers.
SMACK, sting rings on her posterior. The pain knocks her back down. She balls her fist. A deep grumble simmers behind her. Dedestra, try to get on her feet, refusing to give him the satisfaction [I refuse to s-!] Two more smacks drill pain into her tender flesh. She lets out a short scream as she falls to her face. Shivering and biting her lip as a tear falls out of her eye. Her head twists to the side reluctantly.
Her body war with her mind trying to stifle speech, "T-thank you, sir(!)" She hears content snort from behind her. A feeling beaded cloth graces her back. She reaches back to collect the "just used" blood-stained towel thrown indolently over her. The rustling of clothes fills the room again, the clogging of hard shoes. Dedestra stares at the tailed styling comb. Footsteps on the hardwood. The sound of a cheap lighter, the smell of tobacco. The light from the hallway floods the room overpowering her unshaded lamp. The footsteps grow dimmer and dimmer and then muffled as her door closes. Dedestra creeps up on her hands and crawls over her bed to grab the comb. She struggles to shuffle over to her door, crushing the teeth of the comb. As she stops at the door frame she swiftly drives the metal tail of the comb through the cheap wooden door. Her hand falls from her stylish dagger to her side. A seizing darkness grasps at her mind as she crashes to her knees and cradles herself. Feeling the stiff dried blood on her legs and lingering pain that makes her want to vomit. She breaths deeply trying to center herself.

The next morning, Dedestra sits outside on her front step, smoking a cigarette, staring at the empty driveway, a thick book perched in her lap, and an empty cigarette pack by her side. The scream of a small electric motor calls her attention. Her eyes sift up and a slight twinge of dread fills her as the little mess brown thatch of hair swaying in the wind in the now occupied driveway. Visell sits casually on her moped in silence for a second, her legs crossed, her foot tapping in impatience, and her arms folded. Dedestra looks over at her, takes a puff, and looks back down at her book. "Greetings." "You're really gonna make me ask?" Visell asserts. Dedestra sighs and continues smoking and asks "Symown please, please don't get involved, I know you, acutely, and I acknowledge your desire to protect me, but this is one cross I have to Fu. . . freaking bare (!) Promise me that, and I'll promise that I'm ok." Visell uncrosses her legs. "Zempai! Stop it!" Dedestra shuts her book. "Stop what!?" "Obfuscating! Geez, You can't expect me to just to . . . leave you high and dry. Something is seriously messed up and I need to know! "The family as a whole gets protection and in exchange, my big brother works off his debt, and one of those ghouls gets my body, not often, every few weeks. I had no say in this since there were guns to everyone's head
Visell asks "How much debt? My mother could help!" Dedestra looks at her with a shine in her eyes, "I . . appreciate the sentiment, but your mother works for the government as soon as they discover that, my family is dead, too many variables! I merely uttering this to you puts us in peril. But I trust you. Honestly, I'm not even sure they'll even let us live after we pay off, Ten Thousand Sheigii! And the most egregious thing mother still wants me to go to college in flagrant disregard of this vexing, unbearable, painful interchange she just wants to pretend it's not and I know why but . . I just."
As she starts to break down Visell rushes over to hug her. Visell clasps Dedestra's face with her hands and starts crying herself, and stares into her eyes. "Whatever, you need I'm here, I'll even kill all those bastards if you need me too!" Dedestra's eyes widen as tears well up in her face. She says meekly "Symown, Just stay by my side, and don't hate me, I know you must think I'm garbage . . ." Visell jets up and throws her hands down in a feminine manner. "Shut up! Stop shitting on yourself, when I think you're awesome! You're gonna make me cry more! I promised you on that day on my father's grave that I would protect you on blood and love! So stop blaming yourself for bad shit like this! and stop thinking that I blame you!" Visell wipes the tears from her face. Dedestra stands up slowly and gently hugs Visell to her bosom. "Thank you . . . Symownye." Her caress tightens.
After a minute they go into the house to talk for a bit and cut the tension. While watching TV, Dedestra places Visell's hand on her thigh and grasp it tightly, Visell scoots in closer to rest her head on her shoulder. Before she leaves Dedestra gives her a bag of mochi to eat later. As she hands it to her they stare at each other.
Before Visell could say anything Dedestra kisses her on the cheek hastily and rushes to the door. "Since you have vowed to protect me, I believe you should start holding my hand at school, it makes me feel secure. Would that be acceptable to you? Visell with a burst of excitement "T . . totally. I down with that!" Dedestra smiles and facetiously said, "W . . . well you should be your *supposed* to hold your fiancée's hand, silly girl." she slowly closes the door. (refers to when they first met, Visell gestured to Dedestra as if proposing. They are not a couple yet. but a lot of yearning and teasing.) Visell blushes "Hey, don't tease me !" Dedestra closes the door leaving her hand on the knob, she hears Visell go down the steps. She leans her head against the door and kisses it deeply pretending it Visell.