Gilded Denial

The Don's manse was elevated above the rest of the Wall Market slum. The din of hedonism quieted down as Cloud approached the manse, a Wutaiian ambiance to it. It was a poor man's idea of richness, everything gilded and serene and glorious, but only skin deep.

Cloud opened the outer door. Perhaps the direct approach could work, he thought. But the door to the inner sanctum was barred by three rough looking men.

"Not so fast buddy, back it up. Got no need for twinks here," the man in the center, slender with prematurely silver hair, said, looking bored. Cloud flushed at the casual slur.

"We're looking for someone," Cloud said, fingering the sword on his back.

"First time in Wall Market? You don't get in the Don's place that easy. Especially a man. Leslie, I keep the order around here," he said, sizing Cloud up.

"What about girls?" Aerith asked. Leslie looked at her with the same bored expression.

"Maybe, but you're gonna wish you didn't, Leslie said.

"You know, Leslie, she's kinda cute. Homely, but cute," one of the lackeys said.

"Cloud ... requesting permission to kill," Aerith growled.

"Denied," Cloud said. Aerith was feisty, but that was cute, even the way she glared at the lackey.

"Look, if you want to join an audition, only the Trio can approve. They are experts on the Don's ... tastes. tastes. First, there's Chocobo Sam. And then there's Madam M, over at the massage parlor. Last but not least, there's the Honeybee Inn's Andrea Rhodea. They're an eccentric bunch, to put it mildly, and you should know they don't recommend just any girl stupid enough to come knocking."

"We'll be back soon," Cloud said.