| Welcome to Chaos Crisis, dear guest! Chaos Crisis, otherwise referred to as CC, is a roleplay based around superheroes and villains that saw its start on Gaia Online. It turned out to be somewhat of a success, though it eventually became a little too big for little ol' Gaia. We are currently open and accepting new members! So what are you waiting for? Jump into the action! |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Just Business | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Aug 3 2015, 07:56 PM (459 Views) | |
| Donald Connors | Aug 3 2015, 07:56 PM Post #1 |
|
[08/01/2015] ~1:00 pm ![]() - There wasn't a whole lot of choice involved in Donny's decision to crash at Croix's. Well, he could have chosen to roast outside all night, not really get any meaningful sleep, and possibly fuck up the first job offer he'd gotten his hands on in weeks. In the end, Donny decided that he'd just have to impose. He didn't like it, didn't want Croix to think he needed a handout, but this would be a one-time deal, anyway. Hell, he even opted to just sleep on the couch, really push the point forward that he'd take a roof, but he wasn't taking a bed. It was a matter of principle. Besides, couches were top of the line memory foam mattresses compared to asphalt or concrete, or the floor of a train-car. And, the place came with a shower, so he wouldn't be popping up like a disgusting, unwashed hobo. Just a cleaned-up hobo. The kind of luxury that those things on the beach just didn't quite offer, mostly the privacy, he didn't even feel bad about it. Shit, after the time he'd had in Virginia Beach, Donny convinced himself that he'd earned a little bit of luxury. After making quick work of getting ready, he was on his way to, where was it? Rockafeller's? Yeah, he was sure that's where Croix had told him to go. Under the name "Engel," and to look for some 16 year old girl, or something. It was a little off-putting but, shit, in this market, he wasn't going to be so picky. There were loads of reasons for that little bit of advice. Donny wasn't sure what they were, but there had to be reasons. Had to trust Croix on this. He'd even put on his best for it; Combat boots, white shorts, sleeveless shirt that, once upon a time, had some band or another featured, but had faded. Red and gray flannel with the sleeves rolled up, despite the blistering heat, sunglasses to maintain a good poker face, and his plumage swept off to the side, real business-like. That's just how he went to these things. It had cost him a couple, here or there, but it wasn't often enough to discourage this. Usually, he'd found, some kind of reputation preceded him and, most of the time, it was good. It was, as Donny saw it, a test. If somebody wasn't going to hire him for some perceived lack of professional integrity, well, they didn't deserve his expertise. A bit ballsy to pull it now, but habits were habits, and fuck it, he had Croix's word backing him up. It was probably a done deal already. "Reservation for a, uh, Engel?" The hostess nodded, Donny scanned around, hands stuffed in his pockets, shuffling after as the girl threw the usual small talk, how's everything, that's nice, have you eaten here before, and Donny responded with his standard, noncommittal great, thanks, nope. But wow, when they came to a stop at the table, Croix really wasn't joking. This girl, tiny, short hair, looked like a fucking porcelain doll, but person-sized. Well, legally-a-dwarf-sized. Whatever. With a glance around the place, a cynical little chuckle, he dropped into the seat opposite. Shook his head with only a little disbelief. This was a joke, right? He'd thought, maybe whoever the Engel person was just like, brought his little daughter everywhere. Or, maybe that assumption was right, and the guy was off in the bathroom? God, he hoped so. "Well." He tapped his fingers of the table, gave it a pause, looked around one more time for any sign of somebody else showing up. Jesus, nobody else was showing up. Great. "Oh. Oh. You?" Thanks, Croix. - |
![]() |
|
| Ash Engel | Aug 3 2015, 08:18 PM Post #2 |
|
She didn't like Croix. She didn't dislike him either, per say. But he was a difficult case. Damn good at his job. Unreliable, though. For a while she thought maybe he was in on the New York bust, but digging proved that no, he wasn't. He'd tossed their prior conditions and agreements out the window to go chase some tail. Or something like that. So him vouching for someone else? She wasn't sure how to take it. Trust his skilled opinion, or loathe his lack of professional manners? The debate was pretty quickly settled when the kid in question rolled in. Shorts she could excuse, it was stupid-hot out. But the rest of him.. Eyes raked him over the second he was in her line of sight. She straightened, smiled. Nice enough looking, for a little girl. The table was large, but she was the only one there, now. The other plates had been cleared away, leaving no hint to any prior company. The body language was an immediate and unsurprising tipoff. She just kept smiling. Entertained a menu left on the table at her request. As if she didn't already know what she wanted. After a minute she moved, just to offer it over to him. She didn't say anything about it, assumed it was obvious given the nature of the meeting that everything was on her. "Me." She nodded. Sometimes (normally) she had company. And people tended to assume he was the one to talk to. Which was bothersome, very much so. But she was learning how to get over it. Maybe a year ago the new arrival's attitude would have thrown her into a fit. Now, she just took pride in it. Misconceptions just made her more proud of her work these days. "I understand you're interested in work around here. I hardly have a monopoly going, but I can promise some steady pay for steady work. Assuming you can hack it, which I've been repeatedly assured you can." She smiled a little wider. Either genuinely pleased, or mocking the very idea. It was hard to tell which. But one thing was clear- Croix had definitely put a good word in. Over. And Over. And over, until she'd snapped and finally agreed to a bloody meeting just to shut him up. So far, he looked less than impressive. But who was she to judge on that front, seriously? "Feel free to relax, order whatever you want. This is a vacation destination, after all. Nice excuse to be lackadaisical, don't you think?" Somewhat pointedly she leaned back, nursing a glass of water before looking out. Their table was on the outer deck, overlooking the water. Sure, the heat was still a bit of an issue, but the overhang offered shade and the air conditioning from inside rolled out the open doors, making a decent draft. It was relaxing, so long as one didn't mind the sun. They both were wearing sunglasses- she assumed it wouldn't be problematic, in that case. "And while we're at ease, you can tell me whatever you like about your skillset." Give me a good reason to hire you, kid was laced carefully through every word. |
![]() |
|
| Donald Connors | Aug 3 2015, 10:50 PM Post #3 |
|
![]() - Something about that smile gave him the creeps. He couldn't tell if it was genuine or practiced, but it was always safe to assume the latter. Forced pleasantries, he hated that shit. But this felt more predatory. And on a tiny little thing like her, it was just a bit unnerving. Even still, he offered a small, quick smile in return. That ought to be good enough, manners for manners, whatever. First impressions, all that. But manners or no, Donny took the menu, set it down, didn't entertain the thought of it. He knew the custom, and if he'd had his own cash, sure, Donny was hungry as hell. But not hungry enough to let somebody he didn't even know pay his way. So, he sat, arms rested on the table, focused. Listened. Steady pay for steady work. Assured he could hack it. Another push to encourage him to enjoy a free meal, in vain. And a request to hear what talents he brought to the table. This part, he'd never really liked. Usually, he'd always felt like it was just a formality, but today, not so much. This was the sell. Fuck, he hated the sell, but other job prospects weren't exactly waiting in the wings. "Depends on what you need done." Loosened up, leaned back in the chair. Didn't find it entirely comforting to discuss this kind of thing while surrounded by people and, hell, he probably wouldn't even consider divulging this unless he'd trusted that Croix wasn't setting him up. But this was the hand he was dealt, wasn't it? "Someone owes you, I can do that. You need some extra help with security, I can do that, too. An escort, or if you feel as though somebody's wronged you." He shrugged. Smoothed over his hair, shifted just a little in his seat. "Repossession. Those are the most common things I handle. Discretion can be a priority. So, did you have anything specific in mind, or?" - |
![]() |
|
| Ash Engel | Aug 3 2015, 11:15 PM Post #4 |
|
Ohh, how curious. How cute. He didn't want to eat? Unlikely. He didn't want to order. That pride was a killer, but it was endearing. She liked it. She also didn't comment on it. Just watched him, barely blinking. Soaking up every second of him that she could. Expression, body language. Moments he moved and moments he didn't. Every part of him from skin to shirt was integral to her. As much a sell as the words that left him. The kid started talking. Some large woman and her husband two tables over started guffawing so loud over something most of the outdoor seating turned to look. She didn't. She kept her focus on Donny. That explained the location, though. Everyone was so self-absorbed and noisy here, who the hell would be eavesdropping on them just by accident? The more he spoke, ultimately, the more she smiled. Wide and sly, all pleased with what he said. At least seemingly. She looked amused as hell when he finished. For his own assertive posture, hers was loose. She leaned back, even slumped a little in her chair. The middle of this heat, and she was wearing a jacket. A loose one, but still, a jacket all the same, over a shirt and long jeans. If the heat was troublesome, she didn't show it much. She just had that damn smile about her as she regarded him quietly for just a moment too long. Just when it felt awkwardly quiet, the waitress came up. Ah. Waiting to talk for when they didn't have an.. audience. The woman was there for orders, mostly looking at the kid with the mohawk. Ash kept the sly look on her face, all but waving the girl off with an order for cheesecake and more water. As soon as the waitress was well out of earshot, finally, Ash spoke. "Specific, yes." She didn't elaborate. Took a drink of water, instead. "You and Croix know each other?" Asked like a question, but not really. She didn't pry for details. Said it only to lead smoother into the actual point. "I assume, then, you won't have any issue working together? Simple job, local. Repossession, almost. If I'd owned this to begin with." So theft. Basically. "This is assuming, of course, you're not worried about some high risk, high reward work?" It was a good thing they were outside, wearing sunglasses. Just so he couldn't see the way her eyes narrowed just slightly on him. Ah, almost as if she'd planned this setting just for that. But oh, that'd be silly, wouldn't it? |
![]() |
|
| Donald Connors | Aug 4 2015, 12:30 AM Post #5 |
|
![]() - Not that it was much to sweat about, but, god damn. If they weren't both wearing shades, Donny wouldn't be surprised if this chick's eyes were trying to bore through him. And that smile didn't seem to quit. He'd had some real bad meets before, way worse than this, but this was just subtle enough to be a bit more creepy than he was comfortable with. Seemed like maybe she could be the kind of person to stab you in your sleep. And he was considering taking a job from her? Fuck, in this work climate? Hell yes. There was always worse, and he hadn't failed to handle himself yet. Not that it was even a serious concern, just something he'd keep in mind. He nodded, yes, he and Croix had worked together. Not a perfect team, but at least Croix was tolerable. Smart, though. It was a gamble, throwing two people together with no prior experience. A gamble that, though it could work out, Donny did not like being a part of. But it didn't take a seasoned veteran of the business to puzzle that one out, so he wasn't terribly impressed. Mildly pleased, at best. "Mhm. Acquisitions." He snapped his fingers, grinned. Those were the fucking easiest. High risk, high reward, bullshit. Part of him, for a minute there, had expected her to hand over a list of names and ask him to fetch their ears for some kind of fucked up collection. Actually, that might fall under acquisition, so maybe he wasn't exactly out of those woods quite yet. "I like acquisitions. Whatcha want? And, if it's gonna require any specific tools, fair warnin', I don't foot the bill on it. So we're workin' on the same page, yeah?" Oh fuck, what if she was about to ask him to steal like, a fucking dolphin? Did they have those around here? Fuck. Donny was not down to steal a goddamn dolphin. - |
![]() |
|
| Ash Engel | Aug 4 2015, 12:56 AM Post #6 |
|
A hum left her. Short, quiet compared to the noise around them of other people. Tourists, mostly. Chatting and eating and snapping constant pictures. All the while she just waited, watching him. After the one initial glance away before to watch the waters, she hadn't turned again. Not even for the waitress who returned promptly after Donny spoke, setting down a plate of cheese cake and two full glasses of water. The usual rundown ensued- Need anything else? No, we're good, thank you. -and then she was gone again. Ash didn't even pretend to not be interested in the cheesecake. But, at the very least, she was nice enough to not take more than a bite of it before returning full attention back to Donny. "Well, naturally, I'm willing to sponsor you to a degree on these endeavors. It wouldn't do to leave you doing all the expense and work, after all." She said it smooth, calm. Almost enough to make it easy to miss the careful word choice. Endeavors. Multiple. Like she already planned on him pulling repeated work for her in the future. "I can provide the tools if you can provide the labor." Donny just had to know what to ask for, in that case. Which in a way was part of the game to her. She sectioned off another piece of the cake, took her time chewing before smiling at him again. "Are you familiar with the local aquarium at all?" |
![]() |
|
| Donald Connors | Aug 4 2015, 03:46 AM Post #7 |
|
![]() - Donny took the glass of water when it was place in front of him, took a sip. Didn't realize until then how thirsty this heat had him. Didn't comment on the cheesecake, didn't spare a word for the waitress, but he did keep an eye on her as she walked off. Neither he nor Engel, he was reasonably sure, were particularly thrilled at the idea of eavesdroppers. Or, at least he didn't. The particular venue wasn't exactly up to his standards. Generally speaking, if it had to be a restaurant, Donny's experience was that "business-friendly" places were preferred. Tourist traps, not so much. But, hey, they were here, they were discussing the job, and he wasn't particularly excited to get up and mosey around in this heatwave. Endeavors. Donny might not have considered himself exceptionally talented in picking up subtle shit, but that struck him as something of a hint. Steady pay, steady work, wouldn't be a stretch that this was already decided. After all, if this girl really was in the business, might be that she'd actually done some research. Might be that this was a formality, after all. Even still, it'd be just outright fucking stupid for him to just jump on this so quickly. He might be interested, but part of the game was pretending that he needed to be convinced that the job was worth his time. All part of negotiation. And hey, at least she'd pay for whatever toys they needed. It was the last part, the aquarium part, that got him. Donny actually, really laughed out loud at that. Fuck, it was going to be dolphin theft, wasn't it? What else could you want out of a fucking aquarium? Sure, there was probably some cash in there, but cash wouldn't be a big issue to somebody hiring a hoodlum to do their illegal shit for them. And if it was, the job would be knocking over a bank, not a fucking aquarium. No, he didn't like where he saw this going, but at the same time, it wasn't like he'd had a whole ton of luck finding his type of work around here. If it came to stealing a fucking dolphin, he might have to just fucking accept it. Fuck, he really didn't want to accept it. "I know it's a thing." Donny grumbled, taking another drink, scanning their surroundings once again. "And, whatever this is gonna be," Please, anything but stealing a fucking dolphin, "I'm sure you intend to compensate me real generously, right? Cause I just, I dunno, call it tuition, but I'm feelin' like this is gonna be pretty ballsy. And, pretty expensive." - |
![]() |
|
| Ash Engel | Aug 4 2015, 03:45 PM Post #8 |
|
Something about him laughing seemed to deeply amuse her. Maybe it was harmless- just a shared sense of mirth due to understanding that yes, this request was ridiculous. Or it could have been opposite, and Donny laughing was only funny because she knew something big that he didn't. Like everything else with her, it was hard to tell exactly the reasons behind things. But she smiled and didn't seem upset over him laughing about it, so at least that was good? Right? She moved, actually ignoring the cheesecake briefly. Just to set an elbow on the table and lean in, resting her chin on the back of one hand. Perhaps then, more than ever, it was believable she was running this sort of shit despite her age. Cause if satan ever wanted to be a teenage girl (and you know he did) it'd likely wind up looking exactly like the thing sitting across from Donny, grinning at him. "Ten percent. For you and Croix each. So twenty total, of the profit, handed over straight to labor. And any tools you ask for, I'll provide. No cost out of your earnings. Of course, if you get arrested, I don't know you and bail is on you. But I'm sure that won't happen." The way she said it, the way her lips quirked up right after, laced a different intent under the words. You better not fucking let that happen. "Assuming everything goes to plan and the work is smooth, you should be looking at.. mm, rounded up I'd say one-thousand two-hundred or so?" And then she just sat there, watching him. Practically daring him to turn down that kind of money, regardless of whatever the job was precisely. He seemed to already have an idea of it, so she wasn't quick to sputter the details out beyond potential payment. |
![]() |
|
| Donald Connors | Aug 5 2015, 12:26 AM Post #9 |
|
![]() - Every instinct Donny had told him that this was a bad call. The way she leaned it, grinned, assuming she had control over this negotiation. Maybe she did. She was perfectly pleasant, calm, collected. Maybe she knew he was hard up for cash, had already decided that he'd obviously take this job, maybe she'd figured that he'd waltzed right on in here, with no knowledge of what he was signing up for, ready to commit anyway. His smirk fell. She wasn't wrong. With a sharp exhale and crossed arms, Donny looked away again. For the audacity of expecting him to play ball, turning this down was tempting. Didn't need people saying that he was capable of being desperate, because he fucking wasn't. But at the same time, if he turned this down, there might not be more endeavors later, from Engel, or anyone. Far as he knew, the market around here was limited. Not a whole lot of people to go through. Sure, he could hold out hope, but hope didn't feed you. Hope didn't get you a new pair of kicks when the old ones were worn through. In the end, he didn't really have much of a choice, did he? Sure, he could just hop a train and get to a city where he actually had connections, but that would be admitting defeat. No fucking way would Donny go there. He pulled through, found a way, overcame that shit. But ten percent? A little over a grand? Whatever this job was, dangerous and expensive didn't translate to a grand. Donny wasn't a fucking McDonald's burger bitch, he was a fucking professional. But if this tiny, fiendish thing in front of him was any kind of familiar with the game, she expected him to push for more. Ten percent was ridiculous, they both knew it, and he was going to get a bigger cut. "Don't insult me, I don't get busted." No more grins, no more playing around. There was no fucking around with this, and his tone made that clear. "I'm doin' the work, I'm gettin' paid for the work. And ten percent? Not very 'high reward.' I'll take twenty-five." - |
![]() |
|
| Ash Engel | Aug 5 2015, 12:38 AM Post #10 |
|
She watched him the same as she had been. Careful. Calm. His body language betrayed him so very badly. Croix had been reluctant to tell her much about the kid, but even than had been indicative. Combined with his appearance, mannerisms, everything else.. He wasn't a hard person to figure out. Types like him never were. Really, it was all in his hair and skin. When he named his own new price, she laughed. Just once, small. It sounded as tiny as she looked- silver bells on a porcelain doll. She sat up straighter. Matching his advancing posture with a retreat. Wondering if that would make him feel better, like he'd won something. Even though, through it all, she kept the same exact smile. Pleasant and unsurprised. For a moment, she didn't even respond. Her cheesecake was getting depressing in the heat, so she took a moment just to take a few bites. As if on cue, the waitress came around again. Asked if everything was still good. Ash motioned to her company loosely. "Yes, he'll have barbecue burger, with fries. Coke to drink. And if you wouldn't mind, an order of hush puppies for me, please." It was prompt, polite. The waitress made a note, nodded, left. Ash just kept up that same damn smile, taking another bite of cheesecake before finally getting back around to Donny. "You can't really expect me to pay fifty percent for straight labor." A lot of facts were in just that statement. Donny was bargaining for himself and Croix, apparently. Or more accurately, Ash didn't do uneven payments. Whatever one of them got, they both got. She found it decreased tension on the job if everyone had equal earnings. Usually. "I'll up it to fifteen. But then you have to let me touch your hair." It was barely noticeable, maybe just a trick of the light. But just slightly she seemed to grin wider before sectioning off another forkful of cake. |
![]() |
|
| Donald Connors | Aug 5 2015, 01:53 AM Post #11 |
|
![]() - "I'm good with just the water, thanks." Donny corrected Engel, kept his focus on her. Boundaries were being violated, and it wasn't very much appreciated. Apparently, his disregard for the menu earlier hadn't made that quite clear enough. Or, it had been, and his potential employer was trying to throw him off. Weird way to do it but, then again, weird chick. The smile was starting to get on his nerves. Fifty percent, that was a clear message, and he didn't like it. Didn't like haggling for the pay for all parties. Oh, he understood the idea, nobody wanted their hired criminals getting pissy about wages, but his job was to negotiate a bigger cut for himself, everyone else could handle their own shit. Plus, it made it fucking impossible to get the kind of money he wanted out of it. "Fifteen. . . " He mulled it over. Better than ten, but not what he was looking for. But of course, because of this fucking amateur equal pay bullshit, fifteen was likely the best he'd get. Sure, he could probably really scrape at this and push it to seventeen, but that was hardly worth the effort. Donny chewed the inside of his lip, contemplating, rolling it around in his head. He'd have to make that concession. "I'll think about it. But there's no way you're just gonna fondle my fuckin' hair." No, fuck no. That was a real obvious move, or maybe she'd gotten nice and comfortable being weird with potential hires. Honestly, he couldn't fucking tell. He could admit that Engel seemed to know what she was doing, but whether or not some of this was just some really top-shelf mindfuckery, or just genuine weirdo bullshit, he just flat-out didn't know. But, look at him, he really was getting ahead of himself, wasn't he? Seemed that he'd almost forgot the most important part of the job; Knowing what the fucking job actually was. "Mmm, know what? How about, before we come to some kind of agreement on what you'll be paying us, I'm pretty fuckin' interested in just what exactly you want done." So help him, if the answer was anything related to dolphins, he'd flip the table. - |
![]() |
|
| Ash Engel | Aug 5 2015, 02:10 AM Post #12 |
|
She could order him food if he didn't want it. And hell, she had it in her head she could get him to eat it if she really wanted to. She could do whatever she wanted, regardless of how he felt. He needed a job. She was providing. Even if it was for fifty bucks, it was more than he had on him. She could tell. From looking at him- his tanline, his fingernails, the way he spoke. Everything down to the last detail was one big game of I can control you if I want to. She wasn't sure how much exactly he picked up on, but even a little bit was more than enough. She wasn't even trying to make a point to Donny specifically. It was just a game. Amusement- for her, by her. The more Donny spoke, the more she almost wanted to just laugh in his face. Not hard, not cause it was funny. No, the impulse was more along the lines of an excited giggle. She kept it to herself. Previous experience had proven that eager giggling was generally where people drew the line on how much weird they would tolerate. So she was quiet, contemplative looking. She polished off the cheesecake, pushed the plate aside. Nodded a little then, like she needed the motion to facilitate any of the rolling thoughts in her head. "Acquisition, as stated." Ohh, it was clear she was doing that just to fuck with him. A pause and a drink of water later, she stopped with the teasing bullshit. "A sandtiger. It's a shark. I want one. Or, rather, I want you to get one. From the aquarium." She made a waving motion with her hands, like it was a pain to clarify the exact words she wanted. She didn't want a shark of ebay, or one from the ocean. She wanted one from the aquarium. And not any of the tiny catfish ween sharks, but a sandtiger. Though really, the goal wasn't her getting some weird new pet as much as it was- she wanted them to steal it. To see how far Donny and Croix both would go for a job. What they were capable of getting away with, together. It was all one giant test, really, and excusing it under some insane concept of her wanting an illegal to own pet was.. Well, she supposed it wasn't entirely unbelievable but jesus, what would she even do with a shark? Keep it in a tank and drop annoying people in there? She had Luther for that kind of thing, all he needed was a plastic fin on his head. Focus. Back on track. Work, meeting, sharks. Right. Finally, abruptly, the smile dropped entirely. She looked creepy when she smiled, sure. But it was a lot better than the flat, cold draw to her features out of seemingly nowhere. When she spoke again, there was no more amused and polite tone to her voice. It was flat. To the point. Sharp, but not overly hostile. Just.. serious. "You walk in here looking like you don't give a shit about impressions, turning down my hospitality like your pride is so much more fucking important. So what, you think you're hot shit? Then prove it. This job, these stakes, this pay. You want to get treated like a professional, then prove you are one. I don't give a fuck what reputation you have with who, or where. You're here. Trying to work for me. So prove you're not all talk, and then we can discuss better pay for less ridiculous jobs. Or, you're of course free to walk out and I can hire some other punk with a I hate my parents haircut to do this. Up to you." She shrugged. Leaned back in her chair. Picked up her water and, as abruptly as she'd dropped it, smiled at him again. And perhaps the most terrifying part? Anyone who hasn't seen the expression change would have thought it never left, like nothing was wrong or weird going on at their table. |
![]() |
|
| Donald Connors | Aug 5 2015, 04:13 AM Post #13 |
|
![]() - A sha- A fucking shark?! Did Croix fucking know about this? Was that motherfucker actually on board for it? And he was going to drag his good old pal Donny along? Really? His jaw actually dropped. This was a fucking joke, right? Had to be. This was just, fucking, so obviously a joke. Holy shit, who would expect somebody to steal a shark, no, who would expect somebody to steal a shark for a thousand bucks? That had to be so many fucking felonies. And she just sat there, cheery, smiling, like this wasn't the most bugfucking crazy thing anybody had ever proposed to him. What, did she need it for when James Bond found her secret fucking volcano lair? But the smile dropped. For a second, that was nice, but he'd soon realize that the charade might have been preferable to the fountain of total bullshit this kid was about to spout off. Hospitality, pride, his reputation didn't matter, big fucking deal. No, fuck this. This was fucking stupid, he could find such easier work, work that was fit for people who still clung to their fucking sanity, for way more. This was bullshit, this little, fragile girl having the gall to think that he needed to prove himself to her. Donny didn't have to sit there and listen to that shit. He could take his I hate my parents fucking haircut and waltz right on the fuck out, and the only loss would be on her end. Like fuck was there any nutjobs in this shitty tourist trap of a city who would take this fucking job. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd clenched his teeth, or that he had been holding his breath. Could. He could walk. Croix had gotten Donny here, and it probably wasn't a pleasant ride, but Donny couldn't give less of a shit about that. Not really his issue. The only thing that kept him there, in that seat, was the fact that he could abso-fucking-lutely pull this off. It wasn't even about the money, or steady work. It was about doing this stupid, batshit crazy thing, pulling it off perfectly, and rubbing this child's smug little face in it. He didn't even give a fuck if that was exactly how this little goblin-hobbit-whatever had intended it to play out, he was going to have the satisfaction of stealing a goddamn shark, getting away clean, and maybe Engel would think fucking twice before talking shit. After a long, tense silence, Donny finally opened his mouth. "Do not get pissy at me because I don't need your charity." Fuck calling it hospitality. He called it exactly what it was. "And I fucking doubt there's anyone that's enough of a fucking lunatic to acquire what you're asking for. So don't try to scare me into thinking I'm fucking replaceable, I'm real fuckin' familiar with that, and it doesn't fuckin' work on me." Inhaled, dropped his arms, and exhaled. This might actually be the most fucking frustrating meeting he'd ever had. Might? No, it absolutely was. "Fifteen percent, you pay for all the tools required, and you keep your hands the fuck away from my hair, and you'll have your stupid fucking fish." Thinking about it, actually, stealing a fucking shark probably looked really impressive on a resume. - |
![]() |
|
| Ash Engel | Aug 5 2015, 12:13 PM Post #14 |
|
That damnable smile was stronger than ever the moment Donny retorted bitterly. She liked that. That fight in him. That shit attitude that anywhere else might have gotten him kicked to shit and thrown out into a ditch. No, Ash had the means to do that but not the will. It was amusing, watching him bristle. Amusing watching him do what might have been a shot to the foot anywhere else. He stated his new terms. She hummed a little, pleasantly. Tickled by it. A second of silence passed, then she moved. Pulled an extra empty chair at the table closer with the toe of her boot, then slumped in her seat. Propped her feet up in the chair, folded hands over her stomach. Smiled at Donny, not a care in the world in the face of his retort. "Twenty-five, tools." She nodded a little. "And I want to touch your hair." And then she just laughed, gentle and child-like. Either she really had a thing for hair, him, or specifically his hair. Either way, she seemed determined to get what she wanted. That, or just determined to fuck with him. "And it's not charity you self-absorbed spooge. They have good food here. I'm your would-be employer. It only makes sense I'd treat you. It's polite. You not accepting cause you've got macho-pride issues is rude." Ah, but she just shrugged. Didn't make more of a fight about it than that, talking like he was being absolutely ridiculous but not in a way that seriously offended her. She just thought he was stupid for turning down free food. As if on cue, the waitress swung around. Three plates- Donny's burger, fries. Hush puppies, set near Ash. A coke, and then a refill on the water. She asked about anything else, and while the temptation to order more just to watch the kid go into orbit was tempting, Ash wanted to get back to business. She dismissed the girl fairly promptly, little patience for pleasantries in the moment. "What's your name anyway, kid?" She piped up the second the waitress was gone, rolling a hush puppy around in a napkin in her lap like a child left without adult supervision. |
![]() |
|
| Donald Connors | Aug 6 2015, 05:06 PM Post #15 |
|
![]() - There was no stifling the quiet groan as the waitress set his food on the table. Apparently, Donny's assertion that he didn't fucking want the food wasn't enough to dissuade her from bringing it anyway, and now he almost felt obligated; Wasting food was a real shitty thing to do when there were people out there who didn't have any. At least the waitress actually smiled and nodded when he requested a to-go box. Fantastic service. "I'm fuckin' serious. Not touching my hair." Girl wouldn't take a fucking hint. Or outright denial. If that meant he wasn't getting his twenty-five, fuck it, this was dignity and spite and just no, it's weird. Though, he had to admit, the persistence was a little bit endearing. Annoying as fuck, but endearing. But he wasn't going to bring all of that up. All Donny wanted was to get this over with, find Croix, smack him in the fucking mouth for dragging him into this, and then, ugh, steal a shark. "'Self-absorbed spooge?' The fuck does that even mean? Fine, I appreciate the offer. I just don't want the food. Is that alright with you?" Hopefully, the last part was obviously rhetorical, because he wouldn't be surprised if that got spun around into some new way to try and get under his skin. That seemed to be the running gag of this dumb little lunch, and knowing that just made it worse. Fuck, he could not win this game. Kid? Nope, he didn't even react to that. Only rustled his jimmies a little bit, anyway. But, right, his name. Not his real name, he wasn't a fucking idiot. At least, he hoped that's not what she was asking, because she wasn't going to get it. Though, Croix may have already handed that over. Oh well, no harm in doing his part to conceal his own identity, right? "Hellion." - |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
![]() Join the millions that use us for their forum communities. Create your own forum today. Learn More · Register Now |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Rockafeller's · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Theme: Skull Orange | Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
2:31 AM Jul 11
|








2:31 AM Jul 11