The Flowers along West Ridge

It was just another normal day in the flower shop. "A Flower a Day" was a prospering, lovely little flower shop deep in the cesspool that the city of Frikendoor was. Surrounded by massive apartment buildings, skyrises, businesses, and so, so many people, "A Flower a Day" was a breath of fresh air in this otherwise gloomy place. In fact, it was the only sight of nature for miles around it. 

Above the flower shop lived the owner, Steven. Steven was an active member of the community, busy with his flower business, delivering flowers, gardening supplies, and seedlings to his customers. He takes care of his plants very well, each one growing and prospering under his grasp. He has his own routine, first the lilies, then the gardenias, and lastly the roses. While he is always careful when harvesting his flowers, there is always an opportunity to get pricked, specifically by the roses as they had the most thorns out of all the flowers he grew. Today was such an occasion, and as he picked one of his roses, a thorn stuck into his thumb. Not to worry though, the blood that was beginning to well up like tears at the end of a sad movie, stopped, sucked back into his thumb, and healed. No mark was left, no scar, and Steven went on with his day.

"Marks n Arcs" was a place that completely matched the surrounding city of Frikendoor. Hidden in the depths of downtown, graffiti littered the sides and front of the building. Inside was marginally better, with smooth concrete floors and walls. Still, splotches of various colors of paint were scattered on the floor and what you could see of the walls. The walls themselves were absolutely covered with sheets of papers filled with various designs, pictures, and satisfied customers showing off their body art.

Dire was the owner of this hole in the wall tattoo shop, and she looked like she belonged there. Seldom could there be found an empty spot on her inked skin, and her face had more holes with precious metals than a gravedigger's cemetery.

In the middle of the rundown shop, Dire works on her newest client, slowly inking his skin in the required design to show he was part of the West Ridge Mafia. Two axes crossed with a crown sitting atop the blades. She had done this specific design more than a hundred times, a spoken contract with the leader of the West Ridge Mafia. She chuckled as she remembered their first meeting.

"Hi there! I'm Steven, I run the flower shop over on 90th street. You are Dire, I presume?"

"You presume correctly."

"Great, then you're exactly who I'm looking for." Steven held out his hand and grinned.

"Are ya sure there blondie?" She questions while pushing his hand away, "Sure my name is Dire, but you look like you belong at my kid brother's preschool, not here in West Ridge."

"You shouldn't judge based purely on appearances you know, people are rarely as they seem nowadays."

"Ain't that the truth. So whaddya want blondie-"

"I told you my name is Steven."

"-Steven, then, what can I do you for?"

"I'd like to strike up a deal. I've got a large group that needs to get inked. With this design. I can pay handsomely."

"Well as long as it's handsome and not ugly blo- Steven," she corrected herself, "I think we can come to an arrangement."

The pure coincidence of it all still made her smirk. While he hadn't outright said why he needed so many of the same designs, she had a pretty good idea of who he was. There was only one mafia in Frikendoor, and they controlled the entire underbelly. The cash flow system was no joke, and it continually stumped the authorities, and even the heroes who worked with them.

Speaking of heroes, you would think that with their seemingly unlimited power that they would be able to pin down what seemed to be a regular human run mafia, but every time they got a clue, it mysteriously led to a dead end, every time. But, it wasn't like the heroes were the only ones that had power after all, and Dire couldn't let her best customers be caught now, could she?

She sighed as she wiped up the last few drops of ink on her client and finished up with the proper procedures so it wouldn't get infected as soon as her client exited the shop. This was the last one for the day, so as soon as they left, she flipped the closed sign on the door and locked it. Turning around and noticing how messy her shop became over the course of the day, she reluctantly decided to use her own gifts to clean it. She didn't normally like using her gift so freely, but she was tired and the last thing she wanted to do was stay awake and clean, so with a snap of her fingers, the shop was as it was in the morning, the mess disappearing as if it had never happened. Her gift wasn't entirely useful, not like someone who got powers like flight, speed, or invisibility, and she still didn't quite understand how it worked, but the fact was that it did work, and even after years of using her powers, there hadn't been any consequences. Steven thought her little power was amazing, which she thought was strange considering his own gift dwarfed hers. Nevertheless, he nicknamed her "The Cleaner" and while she had all the benefits of being high up in the Mafia hierarchy, respect from the underlings, seemingly endless cash, and a friendly relationship with the boss himself, he never made her do anything like swear loyalty to the mafia, or prove herself. She became an innate part of his life, preventing his downfall when one of the idiots in the lower ranks left evidence, and of course, delightful conversation. Sure it was a bit more gory than what most normal people would be comfortable with, but when your local flower shop owner is also the leader of the Mafia that controls the entire underground of the gloomy city you live in, AND is also invincible, in a matter of speaking, the topics quickly go beyond "How's your day?"

Steven frowned as soon as he left "Marks n Arcs". Dire had just finished telling him who exactly the traitor was among the ranks of the West Ridge mafia. He always had a feeling about that individual, but he seriously shouldn't have tried to play with the Boss' favorite nonmember. Threatening to expose her, charge her as an accomplice, this just wasn't acceptable behavior. Thankfully, he didn't have to go far to track the little rat down; after what Dire did to him, he certainly couldn't have made it very far. All he had to do was follow the blood trail to the alley behind the building...then he would have some new fertilizer that his roses would absolutely love.