RE: Incident [TEXT]
04-06-2013, 08:06 PM
(04-01-2013, 02:12 AM)Dragon Fogel Wrote: »So what is it? Are you making me an offer of some kind? Are you trying to find out if I really am a sparker? It's pretty clear you want something, otherwise you wouldn't be going to all this trouble.
You sigh and rub the bridge of your nose. It doesn't matter. You're not a sparker. Whatever happens, no one is going to be able to find anything to prove otherwise.
“So what is it? Are you making me an offer of some kind? Are you trying to find out if I really am a sparker? It's pretty clear you want something, otherwise you wouldn't be going to all this trouble. Why does someone like you care about someone like me?”
Number 6 turns his head to the side, and you realise he's chuckling. “I already said, didn't I? I want to recruit you. I told you there were people other than the police who suspect you to be a sparker, and I count myself among them.”
You try to muster some anger at his snickering, at the implication that you've had powers all these years and somehow just not noticed, at the sheer fucking nerve of this scum, but you just feel tired. The honest, clean white-hot fury of earlier seems to have completely escaped you. Your bruises are making themselves felt again, as is the lack of sleep from the previous night, and you can't even remember if you've eaten anything today.
So you just take another drag on your cigarette and give up trying.
“So what is it? Are you making me an offer of some kind? Are you trying to find out if I really am a sparker? It's pretty clear you want something, otherwise you wouldn't be going to all this trouble. Why does someone like you care about someone like me?”
Number 6 turns his head to the side, and you realise he's chuckling. “I already said, didn't I? I want to recruit you. I told you there were people other than the police who suspect you to be a sparker, and I count myself among them.”
You try to muster some anger at his snickering, at the implication that you've had powers all these years and somehow just not noticed, at the sheer fucking nerve of this scum, but you just feel tired. The honest, clean white-hot fury of earlier seems to have completely escaped you. Your bruises are making themselves felt again, as is the lack of sleep from the previous night, and you can't even remember if you've eaten anything today.
So you just take another drag on your cigarette and give up trying.
(04-01-2013, 02:02 PM)Whimbrel Wrote: »You need to know what he's paying and the legality of it, naturally. You make a point of trying not to stray too far into the legal dark-grey areas, even if you sometimes take jobs from people who are in the deeper dark.
“I'm not a sparker. I'm not interested in being recruited. But maybe I can stand to be hired by you. Tell me more about that.”
“Very well.” Number 6 leans back in his chair and looks at the ceiling. “I want to acquire a certain item.”
“I'm not a thief.”
“I'm aware. And this isn't a theft. Not exactly. If my sources are accurate, and they generally are, this won't require you to do anything illegal at all.”
“Go on.”
“The item in question is, however, very securely protected. But there are proofs of ownership I can provide you with, and seeing as the previous owner is dead and the item is held by people who technically don't exist, you won't have any legal backlash to worry about.”
“People who technically don't exist?”
“Unregistered sparkers. Outlaws. Have you heard of the Myriad?”
“Of course. They're a fairytale. Don't exist.”
“Nothing to worry about then.”
You think about this for a moment. If the Myriad are real, and if even half of the stories about them are true, then you don't want to be messing with them. (That said, if half of the stories about them are true you won't even be able to get near them. You don't find the Myriad. The Myriad finds you.) The proofs of ownership are tempting, though...
“What are you offering?”
“A hundred in advance, and five hundred once you give me the item and I'm certain everything is as it should be.”
Damn. Six hundred would take you half a month to earn, and that's in the unlikely circumstance of solid employment.
“What about expenses?”
“Those will also be covered. Naturally.”
You say nothing. The money is good. The job sounds possible so far, at least. There's risk, sure, but nothing you can't deal with. But the client... the client is a problem. You look at him again. He's looking back at you with an air of expectation.
He's mad. He has to be. Who wears a mask? Who admits to murder as casually as announcing the time of day? Who kidnaps people just to talk?
Nobody sane.
But he's dangerous. And for whatever reason, he's taken an interest in you. Doubtless Number 6 is hiding something from you, or expects more than just an acquisition of an object. You can make this job as clean and professional as you like, but by accepting it you're stepping straight into whatever mad scheme he's dreaming of.
If only the money wasn't so good.
But perhaps you're just being paranoid.
After all, there's no reason someone like him should care about someone like you.
Do you accept? Decline? Or ask or do something else?
“Very well.” Number 6 leans back in his chair and looks at the ceiling. “I want to acquire a certain item.”
“I'm not a thief.”
“I'm aware. And this isn't a theft. Not exactly. If my sources are accurate, and they generally are, this won't require you to do anything illegal at all.”
“Go on.”
“The item in question is, however, very securely protected. But there are proofs of ownership I can provide you with, and seeing as the previous owner is dead and the item is held by people who technically don't exist, you won't have any legal backlash to worry about.”
“People who technically don't exist?”
“Unregistered sparkers. Outlaws. Have you heard of the Myriad?”
“Of course. They're a fairytale. Don't exist.”
“Nothing to worry about then.”
You think about this for a moment. If the Myriad are real, and if even half of the stories about them are true, then you don't want to be messing with them. (That said, if half of the stories about them are true you won't even be able to get near them. You don't find the Myriad. The Myriad finds you.) The proofs of ownership are tempting, though...
“What are you offering?”
“A hundred in advance, and five hundred once you give me the item and I'm certain everything is as it should be.”
Damn. Six hundred would take you half a month to earn, and that's in the unlikely circumstance of solid employment.
“What about expenses?”
“Those will also be covered. Naturally.”
You say nothing. The money is good. The job sounds possible so far, at least. There's risk, sure, but nothing you can't deal with. But the client... the client is a problem. You look at him again. He's looking back at you with an air of expectation.
He's mad. He has to be. Who wears a mask? Who admits to murder as casually as announcing the time of day? Who kidnaps people just to talk?
Nobody sane.
But he's dangerous. And for whatever reason, he's taken an interest in you. Doubtless Number 6 is hiding something from you, or expects more than just an acquisition of an object. You can make this job as clean and professional as you like, but by accepting it you're stepping straight into whatever mad scheme he's dreaming of.
If only the money wasn't so good.
But perhaps you're just being paranoid.
After all, there's no reason someone like him should care about someone like you.
Do you accept? Decline? Or ask or do something else?
![[Image: jbcRZqKDDNf9eV.png]](https://i1.minus.com/jbcRZqKDDNf9eV.png)