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53 minutes ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Is Velen a criminal activist?

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I have no idea what that means. But you being my supplier is a good idea - would Lina be ok with selling torture devices? :blink:
Also, I have no brainpower right now so I’ll do some RP tomorrow

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On 12/27/2021 at 11:33 AM, Mystic Syn said:

Khusa nodded, looking up over Velen’s head. “Haro, start a new message,” he began. “I know you’re just doing your job, stop. But this is of an important matter and this will make both of our jobs easier, stop. A newbie is here and needed some help with these matters; I am simply helping them, stop.”

He paused, waiting for Haro to finish tapping out the sentence. “I need you to clear the face of the assassin who killed Arke Espara, stop.”

Haro finished tapping out the message, then began writing words on a piece of paper. It took a few moments, but she eventually held up the piece of paper.

“We have their face,” she read. “This could be our biggest break yet. Don’t you know what that’s like?”

Khusa clasped his hands together, the arrogance and laughter gone from his eyes in place of seriousness. “Alright, we’ll play your way,” he said to himself softly, before raising his voice in response. “Yes, I do know what that’s like, stop. But don’t think that you’re going to get off easily, Quentin, stop. Do you know how far away I am from messaging your boss about how you’ve been sleeping with his wife instead of your own, or how much more you’re embezzling compared to your coworkers, stop? You know you don’t want to be my enemy, stop. Why are you trying to get on my bad side, then, stop?”

Silence from both ends.

Khusa’s serious expression remained. Loss for words? he pondered, looking at Haro. Does he really think he can challenge me?

Haro began writing, then placed the pen down. “Have it your way,” she read. “Their face will be cleared.”

“Was that that hard,” Khusa said to himself. He leaned back a little bit. “How long will that take, stop?”

A pen scratched against paper. “An hour tops.”

Khusa nodded. “Your service is appreciated, stop. End conversation.”

“You do realize that may not have been my face, right? My apprentice was there with me. In fact, I don’t believe I was spotted by any guards - at least, no guards whose corpses aren’t now cooling on the inner manor’s floor.”

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22 minutes ago, Mystic Syn said:

“I do now.” Khusa leaned back, nodding to Haro as she slipped out the door. “Either way, you won’t be chased by the police, nor your apprentice.”

“Well, thank you. I didn’t ask you to do anything; I’d have been just fine on my own. But thanks!” Velen didn’t really know why they were lashing out. Khusa had just done something nice for them… But they hadn’t asked him to do it. He’d just done it so Velen would be in debt to him; trust him. He didn’t know that wouldn’t work on them. They’d learned that the hard way, back when they were young. Velen stood up, and started walking toward the door.

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Khusa didn’t seem surprised by Velen lashing out. He gave a half shrug and started to sort out papers, till he came to one. Khusa’s eyebrow twitched upwards as he looked up back at Velen.

“Oh, Velen,” he called out, “you might want to consider this piece of paper before leaving.”

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4 minutes ago, Mystic Syn said:

Khusa didn’t seem surprised by Velen lashing out. He gave a half shrug and started to sort out papers, till he came to one. Khusa’s eyebrow twitched upwards as he looked up back at Velen.

“Oh, Velen,” he called out, “you might want to consider this piece of paper before leaving.”

Velen whirled, stalking back towards Khusa. “Yes?”

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10 minutes ago, Mystic Syn said:

“An offer,” he said, holding the piece of paper in front of him for Velen to see. “Not to work for me, per se, but to work with my protection.”

“No.” Velen took the paper, crumpled it up, and threw it on the floor, walking out of the room.

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Their character is much too stubborn to accept that at first, but don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.

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7 minutes ago, Mystic Syn said:

I have no plan. Khusa is just going to do work in his office.

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Cool beans.

Velen didn’t have a front to their office. They were busy, and keeping that up would be a lot of work. Instead, they had a secret room in their nice, upper-middle class home, which led into the room where they secured all of their jobs.

They walked into the house, whistling to themself, and hanging their blood-spattered jacket on a hook by the door. “Tip? Did you make it out?”

@The Unknown Aon 

Edited by Szeth_Pancakes
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