romeoinabox | Rumors and Negotiations (Mysterious Young Man)

Rumors and Negotiations (Mysterious Young Man)

The Underbelly is a wonderful place. One can find all sorts of things from all corners of the multiverse. Parts of a ship lost to the seas centuries ago. Food stuffs that only grow in the most exotic and inhospitable corners of a desolate planet. Fabrics yet to be invented on his version of Earth. It's a glorious, wonderful place for a person to find anything their heart could ever desire.

And to pick up the most tantalizing news.

The rumors were vague, at first. Some young upstart trying to muscle his way into the racketeering business. He was nothing imposing, the rumors said - physically, at least - but talk of a curse followed him. If his symbol appeared above a business' door, the proprietor would go mad - if they didn't submit themselves to the young man's demands.

Maybe it wasn't the twenty-something boy who was the problem, the rumormongers whispered, but his sister. No one knew for certain.

The first death got the attention of local business owners. A quick, well-placed stab left the victim bleeding out in an alley, and it scared everyone who was visited by the young man to give him what he wanted after that.

It was curious, though, that only certain businesses were targeted. Brothels, night clubs, and eerie fairgrounds all saw their owners hit up by the young man while emporiums of even the most exotic goods were left untouched. No one thought to question the pattern, only to pray that they wouldn't be next.

Raymond Reddington, being the curious, nosy man that he is, almost couldn't help himself from trying to find out more. Something was coming, that much was obvious, and he burned to know what it was.

He finds himself in one of the clubs that's been recently visited one night as he debates his next move. The original owner has "willingly" handed over his business to his next in command after finding himself out of his mind, which makes it the perfect place to start. He knows everything he could manage without drawing attention to himself. Now, it seems, it's time to step out of the shadows.

"Barkeep, another pour, if you please!" he calls over the noise. "And the number of your painter, if you please. That crest above your front door? It's fascinating. I simply must know who designed it to see if I can have them put one above my door as well."

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The bar is full of different species of creatures: elves, humans and even dwarfs. There's a large panda bear behind the counter, wearing a traditional black and white Chinese outfit, adorned with a green dragon. Even though the Eternal Dream is busy, he's able to spot Red standing near the bar.

"It'll be one moment, good sir! Please, have a seat at the bar!" He's filling a mug full of beer, which gets slid down the length of the bar to a man wearing a leather jacket. He catches the drink easily, then drops a few coins onto the wooden bartop, his eyes briefly catch sight of Red, before focusing on his drink.

Once the customer has been taken care of, the Pandaren monk gestures for Red to take a seat in front of him. "Sorry for the wait! You were asking a few questions about the sign out front, right?"

Red makes no indication that he's noticed the man catching the beer, but the way he flits his eyes away is indicative of knowing something. He files it in the back of his mind as he pushes his glass across the bartop to the Pandaren as he takes a seat.

"Whiskey, neat. Best you have," he says of his drink. Removing his hat, he sets it down on the counter as he leans his forearms onto it. "And as lovely as the carved wooden sign is, I was referring to the painted symbol above the door frame. The black one with the white lines."

He thanks the bartender when his glass is refilled, taking a small sip. "I've seen its like a few times around here recently," he notes, tipping his head forward as he leans over the bar a little more. "Have you all been hiring the same workman lately? I need to know where I can find him to get one of my own."

"Of course! We just got an excellent supply of Whiskey from Ironforge the other day. Let me get that for you!" The Pandaren steps away for a brief moment, pulling a glass bottle from the shelf along with a fresh glass. He pours the drink in front of Red, half showmanship, half to prove that the liquor isn't diluted.

"Ah you're not referring to the Alliance symbol then?" The Pandaren puts the bottle away, leaning forward on the bartop. "The symbol you're referring to is an emblem of good luck and power, from what I've been told. The blood elf who owns the place recently went into an agreement with some human mage and the next day, it showed up over the building."

He seems honest enough while talking, not really having any reason to hide any details. "You're in luck! He's been stopping by lately, so if you hang around, you're bound to see him."

"That's wonderful luck," Red comments, his face a mix of happy surprise and business casual. Luck indeed. "Could you describe him for me? I don't want to miss him when he arrives."

The whiskey burns like no other, but Red doesn't flinch a bit. If anything, he seems to enjoy himself all the more as he takes another sip and the feeling is compounded by the additional wash of the liquor over his tongue. He nods thoughtfully and quirks a little smile at the bartender as he polishes off a third sip. "You'll have to tell me where I can obtain a bottle of this as well. I think I need some of this on my shelf."

“Of course. He’s a young kid, can’t be more than 21. Slumps when he walks and is often seen wearing a hoodie.” The Pandaren laughs at Red’s request, overly proud at how the liquor is being appreciated.

“I’ll put in a word with some of the dwarves from Ironforge. I’m sure if you offer to grease their hands with coin, they’ll sell you some of the finest liquor Azeroth has to offer.” Other than not talking in the third person, it’s clear that the Pandaren has a good attitude like Ice Bear.

As for the man from before, he can’t help but look at Red with a curious stare. Finally, he reaches into his pocket, removing an extra set of gold coins, sliding them down to the panda. The currency is quickly swooped up.

“His drinks are on me.”

"Tell them to name their price and we'll negotiate from there." He assumes these dwarves will be as eager to barter as the others he's met throughout the Nexus. So long as they believe they're getting the better end of the deal, they'll agree to whatever terms Red offers them.

The offer of buying his drink earns the man from the end of the bar a look of surprise, which quickly gives way to one of gratitude. Red nods and raises his glass to the man, turning to him to offer a proper toast. "To your health, friend," he says before taking a healthy swig of his whiskey. He exhales a tiny hiss as it hits the back of his throat, then smiles at the younger man and motions to the seat next to him.

"No need to sit so far away. If you're going to buy my drink, we should certainly get to know one another better. Come, tell me your name, friend, and I'll tell you mine."

"I'd talk with Thoren Thunderaxe." The Panda points to a nearby booth, where a excited little dwarf is standing on his seat, his stein raised high in the air, sloshing foam from his drink onto the table below. "He's a representative of Ironforge and should be able to barter the cost for you."

The Pandaren seems happy at seeing these two humans getting along, instead of trying to punch each other in a drunken rage. As for the man, he just nods back to Red, taking a sip of his beer. It's the invitation to sit next to him that gets a curious look, before standing up and joining Red.

"You don't see humans walking in here very often, even if the so-called Alliance is full of them." He gestures to the Pandaren, who has briefly stepped away to take an order from two Night Elf males, who seem attached at the hip. As for the comment about names, it seems like Red will have to break that ice.

Edited 2018-03-24 06:19 (UTC)

Red thanks the Pandaren with a nod before he turns away. If the deal works out as the older gentleman is hoping it will, there will be a very large tip in the bartender's future.

The comment from the young man causes Red to chuckle. "I just came looking for a good drink, friend," he offers smoothly, no trace of guile in his tone. He raises his glass indicatively and takes another small sip. When he sets down his glass, he offers his hand to the other man. If he won't offer his name, then Red will simply have to draw it out of him with a gesture of good faith.

"Desmond Ashers. Wonderful to meet you, mister...?"

Perhaps not honest good faith, but what man could call himself the Concierge of Crime and be perfectly honest about everything?

There's a pretty good chance that tip will happen, but for now, the panda is keeping his eye on the patrons at the bar. He shouldn't be too difficult to flag down if a refill is needed.

"Well, you came to a good spot. There's something unique about off-world alcohol, maybe the luxury of knowing it exists as mere myth elsewhere." He looks at Red's hand, then takes it for a quick shake.

"David Carter. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ashers." Fake names are all the rage, nowadays, and he speaks confidently when saying it, so hopefully it's believable. "Sorry if the kind gesture seemed weird...It's actually rather reassuring to see someone normal in this place."

It's a commonplace enough name that Red can't be certain if it's real or not. For now he'll assume not, if only because of the man's avoidance of giving it in the first place. Only those with something to hide shy away from something so easy to lie about.

"A kindred spirit in a strange place seems reason enough to offer a drink," he counters. "I'd have done the same had I known how rare humans are in a place like this." He chuckles and gestures around the bar with a magnanimous wave of his arm. "I couldn't have imagined this place would have so few of us from the outside. All the others I've visited in search of that painted insignia have been normal."

Bait? Laid. Now to see what he reels in.

David is not too sure what to make of Red, his suave and charm makes him unique among the normal Nexus-goers. In a sense, that type of personality is interesting to him, and thus the conversation continues.

"Yeah, it's nice having company while drinking." He smiles, taking a small sip of his beer, before placing the mug back onto the bartop gently. "Don't tell me you're dealing with loss and grief as well."

Ah, the symbol. David has to think about it for a moment, his fingertips following the oaken wood top, carefully trying to piece his statement together. Finally, his eyes lock with Red's, and for a second, fear crosses his face. "Something that happens once is nothing. Something that repeats itself, or happens twice, is a coincidence. Something that happens three times or more...then there’s a reason behind it; whether it’s dangerous or harmless, there’s always a reason.”

Looks like someone is taking the bait without hesitation, although his word choice is very concerning. "Don't let the barkeep's words fool you. It's a mark of terror. One that is said to invoke fear, anger, madness to whomever lays eyes on it."

Got him.

"Me? Grief? Oh heavens no!" Red laughs heartily around another sip of his whiskey. He shakes his head as he sets the empty glass down on the counter, turning his full attention to David when his laughter subsides enough to speak. "I'm simply a man who enjoys the best things in life. New drinks in new places, and with new friends, certainly fit that bill."

The flicker of fear isn't missed, but it's not commented on directly. David is scared of whatever placed the symbol above the door of this place, just as all the others he's heard about have been. The choice of words isn't lost on Red either. Whatever's behind this curse, it's bigger than all of the rumors have hinted.

"Perhaps our friend behind the bar calls it a symbol of good fortune for himself," he comments, keeping his voice low as he tips his glass toward the Pandarden to call for a refill. He keeps his eyes on David as he adds, "The other places where I've seen it have been equally prosperous. No one's run out past me screaming when I visit the establishments, at the very least."

"Must be nice then, to be so carefree..." David can't help but feel sad at knowing his life pales in comparison to Red's open cheerfulness and fortunate luck. His own mug is ironically empty, and he places the drink next to Red's glass He'll patiently wait until their Pandaren friend has refilled their cups and is safely out of earshot, before speaking once more in a hushed voice.

"The one on the door is different from the actual one they use to scare people. Those who disobey get reminded of their weaknesses through mental torture." He shudders a bit, as if suddenly cold, despite the warm environment. "I saw it once and it was the scariest thing I've ever faced in my life."

Red lowers his voice as he levels the subtlest of grins at David. "No life is carefree. It's how you choose to live with your worries that makes the difference." He lets that thought settle as he takes a sip from his fresh glass of whiskey, waiting to see how much the young man is willing to reveal without further prompting.

"Mental torture could be as simple as telling someone their dog is dead and then revealing that you lied, if the circumstances are right." He scoffs a little. 'Mental torture' is far too vague a term to be of any use to him - he needs more. "What could scare someone like you, a man who buys drinks for strangers in a bar full of unfamiliar people, hm? It must be terrifying to earn a reaction like that."

It's time to see how brave David is - and how hard he can push.

"The way you look at things is refreshing..." Oh that comment is something he's forced to think about, along with Red's next line of questioning. Instead of diving back into his drink, he pauses, thinking and staring at the bartop idly.

"The visions felt real and personal, like I was actually living the moment. As if he was reading my mind and able to amplify all my emotions at once..." David looks up at Red cautiously. "Are you going to try to talk to him? If so, you'd better approach carefully. He's good at bringing out the worst in a person, when he wants to."

Red chuckles openly at the comment. "I'm glad someone appreciates it. It's not often I'm praised for my way of thinking." Lizzie, for one, has a particular fondness for telling him how awful he is. He'll get her to come around to his way of thinking someday, but it's a source of annoyance (and hilarity, if he's being honest with himself) to watch her try to disarm him the way she does.

David's answer about the torture is still too vague for Red's taste, but it's curious that the young man tries to talk him out of speaking to the man behind the painted symbol. In its own way, that's telling, too. To warn someone who's practically a stranger about something that terrifies you in the way this man scares David certainly says a lot about what the mysterious young man can do. How does he do it, Red wonders. Something to ask him when the time comes for them to meet, perhaps?

He takes a sip of his whiskey and sets it down on the bar top, turning to David to watch him for an uncomfortably long moment before he speaks again.

"A person who's already considered to be their worst has nothing to fear, then?" he asks, letting the question hang in the air before he laughs suddenly. A wide grin splits his lips as he picks up his glass for another sip of his drink. "I find fear to be a very useful tool, but it's wasted far too often on those who lack the conviction to use it."

David merely nods, taking another sip of his drink, before finally resting both of his hands on the table. His expression is torn between fear and intrigue at someone who's brazenly walking into danger. Red is doing a very good job at staying a mystery.

"...Just be careful. People, no...entities with that kind of power are dangerous. The anti-violence field may not be able to protect you." David shakes his head, almost expecting Red to disregard his warnings. He seems like the type of guy to do that. "Fear makes people in lesser roles feel stronger than they really are at times. Don't forget that."

He's about to say more, but the door to the tavern opens, and in walks a teenager, followed by his younger sister. It's definitely the person the Pandaren described earlier, and the room's excitement seems to slow, almost hesitant to see what this duo will do. The teenager moves slowly towards a small room that's blocked off by a curtain, so if Red wants a word with him, he'd better move fast.

The impassioned little speech is quaint, and far from necessary. Red's grin lingers on his face for a moment longer before his lips draw into a thin line. "Fear is what defines us," he counters quietly. "Be sure to remember that."

Ahh, but the main event is here! Red throws back the remaining whiskey in his glass and gets to his feet. "Be well, friend," he says to David, "and remember what we've spoken about today. You never know when you might need it."

He gives David a companionable pat on the shoulder and then steps past the young man toward the teen and his sister. Where the rest of the patrons of the bar are shy or afraid, Red wastes no time striding up to the pair with an arm raised in greeting. "Good sir, miss," he says, raising his voice louder than it really needs to be to get their attention. When he has it, he lowers his hand and offers it to them to shake. "Desmond Ashers. Might I have a moment of your time this evening?"

David merely nods at Red's words, realizing that he doesn't have anything additional to say at the moment. Red is right, but the thing that bothers David is whether or not he can be trusted.

Time to find out, as the brother/sister duo stop walking upon being approached. The young girl wastes no timing in pushing her 'brother' lightly on the shoulder.

"Keep moving. We're not here to socialize." Unfortunately, her sibling seems completely out of it, and he reaches for Desmond's hand.

"It's fine. What do you want, Mr...?" The older boy seems interested in what Red has to say, but is also looking to get him to go away as well. "I'm actually very busy, so please state what you want and be on your way."

"Ashers," Red repeats, not at all flustered by the asking again of his name. He gives the teenager's hand a less-than-firm shake and then draws his hand back. "I've heard you're the purveyor of the splendid artwork above the door of this establishment."

The declaration earns him some looks from the other bar patrons and whispers begin asking why someone like Red would want the beautiful wooden sign above the door. He has to suppress a grin as he leans in, his voice lowered so that only the boy and his sister can hear his words as he speaks again.

"Your mark is synonymous with power and fortune for those who work with you. I'm one such individual who would like to be on the right side of the coming storm."

Edited 2018-04-21 18:03 (UTC)

"Ashers. Right." The boy has to repeat his name a third time to actually get it to sink into his brain. For being the mastermind of this Nexus takeover, he's certainly slow to the draw. He's rather surprised by Desmond's blunt statement regarding the symbol, along with his knowledge of what it can do.

He whispers back. "It's true...Maybe you can share with me what you have to offer in private." He gestures to the room he was heading for, while his sister watches Desmond curiously. She's clearly not afraid of the man, but she wants to know his intentions as soon as possible.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure no one bothers us while we talk. Just us three." The boy shoots a glance to the bartender, who seems to take the hint without words. "Go back to your drinks everyone, they're on me."

The bar patrons seem to like this idea, and much of the attention that was on Desmond is gone, replaced by drunken conversation. The older boy leads Red back into a room that's clearly intended for private gatherings: a large wooden table sits in the middle of the room, leatherback chairs surrounding it. The light in the room are dim, provided by a shining chandelier that hangs above the table.

The older boy gestures for Desmond to take a seat in one of the well-crafted chairs. He'll be sure to take whatever seat places him in front of Desmond, out of respect. As for the younger sister, she stands near the doorway where they came in, deterring anyone from coming in...or going out.

Red automatically moves to the far side of the room, putting his back to a wall as he takes the seat farthest from the door. From here, he has the real place of power. The girl may be blocking the only way in and out, but that means nothing when they have no chance of surprising him.

When they're settled at the table, the older gentleman removes his hat respectfully, setting it aside on the table and leaning back comfortably in his chair. He's at ease in this spot as he was out front, surrounded by strangers or possible enemies alike. "I've heard many rumors of this symbol," he begins, deciding to get straight to the point for the sake of brevity. "Good will for those on your side and seemingly incredible bad luck for those who oppose you. I've yet to be impressed by the bravado and grandeur of these rumors but it did bring something I find absolutely fascinating to light."

Here he leans an elbow onto the table and eyes the boy with an unwavering, if neutral, gaze.

"You're targeting very specific clientele as you spread your..." Another pause and a slight raise of his eyebrows for effect. "Influence. The business man in me is curious as to why you're so drawn to the darker side of human nature when the lighter is far easier to manipulate."

The young girl watches Red silently, wondering why he chose to put himself in the corner: a strategically weak position in her opinion. Whatever. If physical altercations come to pass, she figures she can handle Desmond with no difficulty at all.

As for the teenager, he listens carefully to what Desmond has to say, merely nodding his head. This guy has it all figured out. "Because the darker side is easier to deal with, to gain support from. You seem to be underestimating what kind of powers we have and what we intend to do with them."

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small notebook, with a dark red leather cover. The book is placed in the middle of the table, before the boy speaks up once more. "Mr. Ashers, if you want in on our success and riches, then you have to pass our initiation. If you've done your homework, then I think you know the potential side effects."

He gestures to the notebook. "Open it if you dare. The true power of the Master lies within." Opening the book reveals one thick page. It's the symbol from before, marked into the page with black and red ink. Something seems different about this one though: it gives off a powerful and magical feeling, as if someone or something is trying to pry into the thoughts of those whose stare at it.

There it is. The hand he's been waiting for since he walked into this place.

Looks like tonight's endeavor is a success.

"Before I open it," Red says, leaning back in his chair again, "I ask you... Who exactly is your master? Anyone I'd know? We've got all sorts on Earth and I like to know who's at the top of the food chain before I climb onto the bottom of it."

He steeples his fingers as he watches the pair in front of him, his expression neutral but his eyes very discerning in every movement and detail of what he sees.

"If I'm to climb into bed with someone, I want to be sure there's no knives waiting for me." A brief pause, and he chuckles as the corner of his lips tug into a smirk. "Unless we talk about that first, of course."

"...No and yes. Our Master is one who can be called a God. He is a part of all humans, but his influence is weaker here in the Nexus. We plan on sharing his wisdom with everyone." The boy has a strange smile on his face, keeping his eyes firmly on Desmond. Something about the comment regarding knives gets a smirk out of Chara, who interrupts the conversation.

"You came in here asking for power and money. Sometimes that comes with a risk, until you've proven your worth and value to us." She walks over to the table, spotting a short sword that was left behind by a traveler. Probably not the best in stats, it can still do good in the right hands: like hers. Chara picks up the knife and spins it deftly with one hand.

"She's right. You really have no leverage in this conversation. Take the test or die. Make your choice." He's not playing around as well. Time to see if 'Desmond' has something of value to him, instead of cheeky comments.

Of all the things Red could do when the young girl picks up the sword, he laughs, bright and exuberant. He's not at all put off by the grab for power, apparently.

"My dear, if you think I'm afraid of spilling a little blood over a misunderstanding, then you're sorely mistaken. I've met far more dangerous than you, and I'm certain I will again, if the multiverse is as vast as they say." His smirk draws across his lips and he tips his head slightly toward the knife. "You've no power with that blade of yours when I won't give it to you."

True, the Underbelly has less strict rules as far as the Anti-Violence Field is concerned, but Red is undaunted by this. The cards are all on the table and he can walk away with them whenever he chooses.

Shifting comfortably in his seat, he rests his hands in his lap and loses the smirk to a look of muted boredom. "Such an unnecessary show of force. It seems the rumors of what you are were vastly exaggerated. Something I could see to fixing in short order." He pauses, holding each of the teens' gazes for a few extra seconds to make sure they understand who's in control and what's at stake. "Your master's influence could very well end tonight, if I so chose. Convince me why it's in my best interest to let this lie."

That laugh sets Chara off, reminding her of someone she once killed in the past. He laughed, taunting her and actually defeated her on multiple occasions. She doesn't like Desmond's attitude, but instead of pointing the sword at him...She turns, placing the blade underneath the throat of her brother.

"You got sloppy and let someone track you down. Fix this mess." She removes the sword from his skin, then heads towards the doorway once more. The boy is shaking where he sits, trying to think of a solution to the problem without endangering the mission. It's clear that despite the grandeur, he seems relieved that Desmond actually found him. And that this teenager is just another pawn to something greater.

"I don't know what to do." The boy looks up at Desmond with desperate eyes. Chara is watching him carefully, looking for a sign of weakness. Any excuse to kill. "What do you want from me?"

That's a power dynamic he wasn't expecting. Red's surprise shows in his face as a quirked eyebrow, but he doesn't make any movements past that. The girl is angry at her "brother," not him. Best to let her get it out of her system before he tries to engage her again.

"I've no desire to spread such chaos as your," a pause for effect, "friend here so desires. But I'm not averse to it spreading on its own, either - for the right price." Another pause as he sits up and takes the air of the business man he truly is. The boy is malleable and the girl will let him do whatever he wants to fix it. The best deals always come from desperation.

Red looks up from the boy to the girl, his eyes narrowing. "You want your master's word spread? Do it on your own time and dime. But if you want these rumors to stand, you'll acquiesce to a few suggestions I have for myself. Namely that I'm left out of your little power game and given warning enough to get the hell out of Dodge before this all starts."

Probably a good call, Red, since dealing with a psychopath child hell bent on destroying worlds is enough of a chore. The teenager nods his head eagerly to Red's words, but feeling Chara's eyes on him is also keeping anything he says in check.

"O-Of course...I would never drag you into this without a fair warning. However, the people we wish to pull out of the shadows cannot be allowed to escape. They are a future risk to the Nexus and must be eliminated." He shakes his head. "A few weeks from now, we're going to attack a specific part of the Nexus with an organized strike force, eliminating a group of humans who wish to destroy the Nexus."

He takes a deep breath, Chara's eyes never leaving him. "One month, give or take. That's when we plan on doing this. We're recruiting businesses to help us lure these people into that specific spot."

"I need more than that," he counters, his voice lowering an octave. No more playing around. It's time to get what he wants. "A tighter time frame, a better sense of location." His eyes narrow as he leans forward to rest his arms on the table, hands clasped together in front of him. "Who are you after? Anyone who comes here wants to see this place thrive. I find it difficult to believe anyone would be so callous as to the throw the relative peace and prosperity of this place away."

One more push. "What are you really after here?"

"More? I don't know if I can...?" His eyes glance up at Chara, who has taken a seat next to the door, eating a candy bar and staring down at the blade in her lap. She's not paying attention and this is his chance to escape. Quickly, he stands up out of the chair, kicking it to the ground and bolting to the door.

Chara is taken off-guard at her 'brother' trying to leave, finding herself struggling to grab the blade. Once the teenager reaches the door frame, he's met with an unfortunate fate...

David is standing in the doorway, brandishing an impressive-looking dagger. The blade handle glitters of gold, but its beauty is used for more nefarious purposes. He takes the blade and stabs the teenager in his chest, removing the weapon after his target has stopped breathing.

The teenager falls forward, and strangely, his body doesn't bleed out red. There's an unusual black substance pooling under his body, reminiscent of tar. It definitely falls into the paranormal or magical category. David flicks the blade downward, the remaining 'blood' falling on top of the teenager's corpse.

"Slacking off like usual, I see?" David looks at Chara, who frowns at him. "Get his body out of here so I don't have to look at it and be reminded of failure."

The young girl stands, removing a PINpoint from her pocket, then puts one hand on the teenager. With the click of a button, both of them are gone. It's just David and Desmond now...

"This is why I shouldn't rely on children to do complicated adult things." He walks over to the table, placing a sealed bottle of liquor on the table for Red: the same brand he was drinking earlier. "Consider it a peace offering for my stupid lackeys. Then again, this is the first time they've been unable to convince someone to look at the seal."

David takes a seat across from Desmond, joyful and full of happiness. Is this the same guy from before? Yes and no. "You have questions. I have answers." He takes the notebook off the table, putting it away in his pocket. "The Nexus has a group of people that possess unholy powers: they can summon demons from within. This group poses a threat to a world which is on the verge of dying. My master is a deity that can't leave his world...so he sent me to find those people and eliminate them."

David looks at Red confidently, most of his story is actually true, so very little lying is involved here. "I haven't forgotten about your other questions, but this is a lot to take in, so I'm breaking it down into small bits."

There's suddenly much more happening than Red is prepared for. He keeps his cool as he watches the scene - how many times has he been on either side of that encounter anyway? - frowning a little as the teens disappear from the room.

"I rather liked him," he comments, not immediately addressing David. It's far easier to take in the other man's demeanor if they're not truly speaking to one another. The most telling part of any conversation is how someone reacts to being ignored or their point discarded in favor of something they find frivolous. "An earnest lad, once pushed to that point. A shame he had to die for such a trivial matter."

He looks over the offered bottle, but doesn't reach for it. It's curious how much David's changed since they sat at the bar together. Something bigger is at play, and it seems the man in front of him is more than willing to share information his lackeys didn't have access to. He tilts his head ever so slightly, a bemused look on his face. "Magic and demons were never my forte, or to my taste. Let's stick with the basics, shall we?" He waits for a nod of confirmation before he continues. "Do you have the names of these people? Or basic descriptions of their appearances? Anything to help me avoid them when the time comes would be useful."

Or to get them out of the way if he likes them. Only David's answer will make the decision for him.

"He was already skating on thin ice. I can't have cowards or people ruining my business affairs. He knew what he was getting into by dealing with dark things." In other words, a justifiable death, in his eyes. David gives Red his undivided attention, in a sign of respect or the fact that this doesn't seem like the same man as before.

"I do." David pulls out a cell phone and shows off the names of about 25 people, none of which any Red would recognize. Average Nexus people, more or less. "I have the location coordinates as well as the dates you desire. It'll help you stay away from my affairs much easier. But how can I trust that you'll...forgive my language, not tattle on these people?" David leans back in the chair, letting Red examine the phone with ease. It's clearly only used for transferring basic information, to keep a clean slate.

The names on the offered list are all suspiciously common - Jane Anderson, Michael Johnson, and so on - and Red's not certain if he should feel relieved to not see the name of anyone he cares about on the list or to press harder on this topic. For now, he focuses on memorizing the list, scrolling through each name several times as he listens to David speak.

"You've absolutely no reason to trust me, from everything you've seen of me this evening." He powers off the screen on the phone and slides it back across the table to the other man. "But you've absolutely every reason to trust me as well. I know your hand and it does me no good to earn your ire after you've been so open with me. I find starting a relationship with an ounce of good faith helps both sides, don't you think?"

The smile on his face as he regards David is less than pleasant.

"The names of my friends aren't on that list and I'd rather not be in the Nexus when all this goes down. Give me your word none of my friends will be caught up in this, and the names on your list won't hear of your plans from my lips."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rumors and Negotiations (Mysterious Young Man)

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