Meens looked about nervously. The alley was dark; anyone could be hiding here. Well, someone was hiding here. The man had wanted money. He was willing to exchange, money for secrets. Not all of them of course, but a taste. A taste, for funds and after that, he would give you secrets, he would tell you what he gleaned from his experiments.
"Hello there," a voice sprung from somewhere in the alley. Meens turned in an instant. The man walked forward, revealing shaggy red hair and a disheveled outfit. "You're... not what I was expecting." The man, who he not realized was somewhere in his middle years, likely not far from Meens himself, replied easily, "What were you expecting? A mirror image of yourself? A man living the good life? Why would I ask for funds then?" Meens opened his mouth to answer when the man said, "Don't answer those questions, they were rhetorical." Meens nodded, "Ok..." How had he known he was about to answer? Who was this man? Whoever he was, Meens wanted nothing to do with him, but his secrets however, those he wanted. So, he would deal with this man, for now.
The first memory ends.