Scenario Entitled: How To Not Make Friends And Influence People

Characters:
Maxim, newcomer and arrogant upstart.
Kiana, street-savvy owner of The Succubus.
Nethial, flamboyant dandy intent on researching Tolkeen.
Location: The Succubus, a popular pub.
Date: Honorius, 106 P.A.


        Maxim leans at the bar. There seems to be a commotion at a deserted corner table, where a finished tumbler of something-or-other, and a full goblet of something bubbly and expensive sit abandoned. Beside this table, a waitress and her big lumbering boyfriend argue.
        Kiana whistles loudly and shrilly, "Fel, if you can't control your urges you need to leave and cool off. Cass, take 5 in the K and cool off yourself, have a drink."
        Shiver steps into the alcove from outside, quietly following proceedure and drawing a small pistol from under her coat and handing it to the doorman and nodding as she accepts the reciept before stepping further into the tavern with a surveying glance.
        Maxim looks sharply to the authoratitive voice, but keeps his stance at the bar, drinkless.
        Shiver steps away from the threshold toward the bar.
        Nethial purses his lips as he re-enters the tavern. How odd, that big, rude, idiot man is no longer here. Well, one should not spit on providence. He heads back towards his table and the half-finished bottle of wine.  He sits down at the darkened nook in the far corner.
        Shiver approaches the bar in general and Max in particular.
        Maxim looks to his original table after the waitress has flounced to the kitchen, and the boyfriend person has slouched his way out the door. "Useless moron," Maxim comments idly to himself, noting the untouched drink, so bubbly and expensive-looking, still sitting there. He shrugs and then orders something else from the bartender.
        Nethial pours himself a fresh glass of wine, watching Shiver and Maxim with a peculiar degree of intensity.
        Shiver leans backfirst against the bar and looks over her shoulder to ask the bartender for a wine.
        Maxim seems interested in a menu perching at the bar, and leans over Shiver-wise to pluck it up. He murmurs seemingly to himself, "Did you wish to speak to me, Miss?"
        Shiver sighs and turns to recieve her wine as she subvocalizes something softly. "Yes, I've been commissioned to carry a message to you."
        Nethial nods to another patron absently, keeping his eyes on Shiver and Maxim. He takes the candle from the table and holds it out to the fellow needing a light for his cig, without even looking at him.
        Maxim inclines his head downwards, examining the menu with a perusing air. A finger traces down the choices, while he murmurs to himself, "Oh yes? And what is that...?"
        Shiver turns and blows a kiss to Nethial, then turns back and brings her wine up to smell it before taking a sip.  She uses the glass to hide her lips as she whispers, "The client you have had correspondance with will not accept any further deliveries without knowing who the sender is."
        Nethial murmurs, "You're welcome" and gives the smoking patron a brief nod.  He grins and waggles his fingers to Shiver. There, she finally noticed him.
        Maxim puts down his menu and chuckles with his chin dropped down against his chest. Must be some funny dishes listed. He raises his head and laughs more heartily after a moment.
        Shiver shrugs and looks at Nethial again.
        Kiana smiles and starts across the room toward the bar itself, she raises her hand "Hey Neth, how's it hangin'?"
        Nethial shifts his eyes from Shiver to Kiana, a broad smile forming on his lips. In response, he raises his wineglass to the infamous mistress of mischief.
        Maxim lets his deep-chested mirth trail off seconds later, and shakes his head slowly, muttering to himself,  "Thank you for the message.. I'll consider that, next time I decide to contact the lady then, Miss."
        Kiana looks at an inquiring patron in the midst of reaching over the bar for something, "Umm, yeah. You pay me and I tell Bru to let you in."
        Shiver savors the scent of her wine before taking another sip, saying through it, "Yes."
        Kiana takes her credstick out with her left hand and flourishes it over her knuckles, "One hundred creds, cash only." With her right hand she takes a bottle from behind the bar and thumbs a cork free from it's neck casually.
        Shiver steps away from the bar and begins to approach Nethial, with a final sip of the glasses contents.
        Kiana takes a pull from the neck of the bottle, "Yo, what's up?" she asks some friends at the bar.
        Nethial smiles pleasantly to Shiver, draining the last of his glass as well. With a sweeping motion of his arm, he indicates that she is welcome to take the seat across from him.
        Maxim turns his gaze on Kiana and watches her for a moment, his expression inscrutible for the most part, as he toys with his half-full glass of liquid.
        Kiana's eyes dart around the room from person to person, evaluating and measuring each for... something. She steps off toward Maxim with a quick nod toward her current companion, and a quiet "excuse me a second."
        Maxim takes a seat as Kiana approaches, in a strangely conscientious manner of facilitating a more eye-to-eye conversation, tall beast that he is.
        Shiver smiles sweetly at Nethial before setting her glass down at his table and walking toward the door.
        Nethial furrows his brow slightly, turning to watch Shiver's departure. Is he to follow her?
        Kiana stops at Maxim's table, looks him over briefly then sits down on it and leans forward to speak, "I'm Kiana, what's your game?"
        Maxim turns his head just in time to catch Shiver using Nethial's table as a dumping ground, then leans back with a small smile. Broad has class. He returns his attention to Kiana. "Maximillan, and I want a room here, Kiana," he returns in the same no-nonsense tone.
        Shiver stops at the door to reclaim her small energy pistol, which disappears beneath her coat. She glances about the area one last time.
        Kiana takes the time to wave at the departing messenger, "Later Shiv," then turns back to Max, "Lots of people do, the question is can you afford one?" she smiles innocently.
        Shiver nods back to Kiana and walks out into the street.
        Nethial eyes Shiver's glass for a moment, then shrugs and leaves it there until a waitress comes to clear it away.
        Maxim leans foward in his seat, forearm out along the edge of the bar, and says intimately to Kiana, "I can. I'll pay double, if you ask it. And I want one room in particular." The rhythms of his speech are very deliberate, while at the same time, unconcerned. That is, in fact, possible.
        Kiana rolls slightly to regard an apparently passed out at the bar, "Damn, he's as bad as Vladd was." The flip back toward Maxin can only be described as fast, not particularly graceful but /really/ fast. "That would depend on the exact room you wanted babe, which one?"
        Maxim leans further in towards the doubtlessly fearless Kiana, his face near the sweep of her auburn hair, murmuring softly at one of those delightfully pointed ears. "I want the room where .. Rooke Del Reyhart, your former employee, now a Councilwoman, stayed, Kiana."
        Kiana shrugs, "Sorry sugar, it's already rented." She points at Nethial. "To him."
        Nethial looks over towards the bar suddenly, eyebrow raised at Kiana. Why is she pointing at him? Perhaps she is explaining what sort of man gets her undying lust, and what kind doesn't. Mmm, one can hope.
        Maxim doesn't even look at whomever Kiana points out. "Then move him," he suggests/states, presumptuously. "That is the room I want, and if it is a matter of money that keeps it from me, then I'll pay the highest bid, not to worry."
        Kiana smiles ingenuously "It's not the money, I won't move any of my renters until they're ready to be moved... however you can feel free to try convincing him to let you have the room if you like" She shrugs, "But so long as he wants it... and can pay for it, it's his"
        Nethial listens to the conversation from his little booth, a smile slowly spreading on his face. It is amazing, the things fate can do for a man. He's needed an excuse to talk to this guy for a week or so, and now it is being dropped into his lap. Good girl Kiana, yes, send him over here.
        Maxim lets a small amount of his smouldering displeasure show in Kiana's general direction. Just a small amount, mind. His dark brow darkens, and the corners of his narrow mouth quirk downwards. But it clears soon enough, and he finally replies, "Your ethics are to be commended, Kiana. But I would rather not resort to haggling with some clueless no-name. He'd do better to disappear quietly. But I think we can help each other in this, still. Perhaps we can discuss it over one of your finest synthol?" He glances at the brand and vintage of the bottle Kiana herself holds at the moment. "Of course.. if you prefer /that/ then by all means."
        Kiana laughs, "Ethics have nothing to do with it hon, business does... my rep is important in my business and I won't screw with that for any price." She smirks, "Or are you a little afraid that Neth over there might actually have the balls and the cash to stand up to you?"
        Disappear quietly? Clueless no-name? Well, Nethial will have none of that. He rises from his booth and takes those few steps towards the bar with great indignation. "I'll have you know, sir," he begins, with no introduction or formality, "That I have no intention of disappearing quietly. Furthermore, I believe you will find that I have many clues about many more things than most would think." He smiles pleasantly then, a sugar coated viper.
        Nethial stands and leaves the darkened nook in the far corner.
        Kiana takes a long pull from her bottle and grins, this might get interesting without her having to say a word.
        Maxim keeps a close berth with Kiana, still leaning towards her in a distinctly predatory, intimate fashion, and flagrantly ignores Nethial's interjection for the time being. He hasn't yet even /glanced/ at the man. "You may assume that, having not heard of me, dear Kiana.. but I assure you that I know of you, and your reputation, and I certainly don't want to toy with you, though we are for all intents and purposes /equal/. You screwed a complete dolt ex-Coalition grunt, and that isn't important to your reputation? Come, won't you sit with me and talk terms?"
        Kiana laughs in the face of Maxim's quiet words, "Nobody cares who I'm screwing now, much less who I screwed last week and, on top of that I don't think there's three whole people in Tolkeen who don't know that Steve was a CS soldier. You have any more tidbits you want me to shoot down like that?"
        Nethial laughs softly as he leans against the bar beside Maxim. Obviously Maxim wants to play 'The Game'. Well then, let it be so. Now let us see who is pupil and who is master. He turns a smile towards Kiana, extending one arm halfway across the counter. "Here, then, Kiana. Be a dear and let us have a pull from that bottle, won't you?"
        Kiana passes the bottle to Nethial with a smile, "Sure thing hon, enjoy but be careful... it's raw bourbon."
        Nethial chuckles as he tilts the bottle back against his lips. "The lifeblood of my ancestors." All the same, he takes care and drinks only a moderate amount, then offers the bottle back. "Thank you, my dear."
        Maxim shrugs negligently, powerful shoulders and scapulae shifting under the material of his shirt. "You misunderstand, I only used that example to demonstrate how I think you mishandle your rep. Your sexual favor towards a known nimrod lessens your projected intellect to some degree. If you like, I shall demonstrate within the next few days how severely that can damage your relations in the ganglands." Fine, if she wants to keep it loud, he has no qualms. He follows the bourbon bottle's passage to Nethial, then back to Kiana with the barest of head-turns.
        Nethial smiles pleasantly at the exchange, interjecting once more with, "It is interesting that you bring up the matter of reputations. When I mentioned it to miss Del Reyhart, she seemed most interested in my offer to point out the person who has been sending her these anonymous letters and bracelets. I wonder what that would do to your own relations." Why, he practically sounds genuinely concerned.
        Kiana shrugs, "Do your worst babe, but you still won't get the room... and now I'm not entirely sure that I wouldn't grenade the thing just to spite you if Nethial /did/ decide to move... not that he will I don't think" Her smile is, if anything, as dangerous as Nethial's was earlier or even the wolf-grins of Damion "You want some rough trade? Start the music and we'll see who loses out in the end." She turns toward Nethial then points over her shoulder with a thumb, "Him?" She turns back to Max again, "Now that /is/ interesting... isn't it?"
        Maxim inclines his head downwards and to the side in a decidedly /serpentine/ way, to regard Nethial face to face. "More than you would suspect, boy, and in the most delightful aspects. Do yourself a favor and don't dabble in a situation you have so little clue about, you'd be frightened at your own audacity if you knew." With that, he turns his otherwise expressionless face back to Kiana, assuming a more inquiring look. "What is this game you propose, in specifics, Kiana?"
        Kiana says "I don't propose anything Max, but if you decide to stick your hand into the jaws of the beast be ready to draw back a nub" She smiles once more, "If you want to hurt my relations with the gangs feel free to try, but you are an outsider to us while I'm one more of the group. I get along with the gangs, the D-Bees and even the council. How many other people can claim that?"
        Another slow smile splits the lips of Nethial, this one holding a decidedly more calculating, manipulative tinge. Dabbling is his trade, and audacity his middle name. Provocation and reactions such as Maxim's are just the benefits of the job. "I would not be so certain that your 'delightful aspects' are completely opposed to my own, sir. I believe we can both help the other out, but this trivial parrying and riposting will not get us there."
        Maxim is only concerned with Kiana now. Nethial has become a mere mote as far as Maxim is concerned. Though the man might remember the small subtle shift in Maxim's head movement, and recall the manner in which he handled the bunch of rowdies outside, and on his first day. He says softly to Kiana, in a caressing voice, as if he were actually screwing her and not threatening, "But my dear.. I /am/ the beast. You may claim your petty connections now, but you're so much grasping gutter trash, you don't know when it's time to retract your own foolish words." His voice throbs with a low, excited passion, and he drops a credstick on the bar from his pocket, before withdrawing from the woman (suggestive wording to be sure), still facing her, and stepping away. Wouldn't do to turn your back on a viper... all vipers know that.
        Kiana shrugs, "Gutter trash is about right, but you left out bitch and slut. So far baby doll all I hear from you is words and that's just alot of hot air. Come back when you can claim a little something other than a fat credstick and an unbacked claim to a life."
        With every word she skins herself alive - that's all in Maxim's demeanor and in the arch of his spine, as he turns away from Kiana, Mistress Spitfire. He looks at Nethial for just a moment, not quite intrigue, more like 'I may have to kill you too by the way, caught in the crossfire that's all, do try to understand, poor boy'. The fact that the dark amusement has lit on his face lends the disturbing conclusion that he actually savors this moment, like a well-used, well-loved drug hit.
        Kiana holds up a finger "Oh Max? Before we start talking about killing I should warn you about my death insurance policy... the person killing me won't outlive me by long. I've paid for their deaths in advance with people who I trust to carry out the bargain"
        Kiana says "Just" she smiles with a shrug "so you're aware."
        Maxim turns in a sinewous almost-pirouette, inclining his head at Kiana with a smile that grazes the tips of his teeth. "Of course, Kiana, you needn't worry about death at my hands, nor at the hands of my friends. Women should not be killed, but enjoyed, especially the fiery ones." His glance moves past and through Nethial as he completes his rather dramatic turn, though it does seem to touch him rather than skip over. He resumes his walk for the door amid a few tables silenced by the performance.
        Kiana laughs again, "Enjoy yourself Max."
        Nethial quietly drums his fingers on the bar counter, watching Maxim's exit performance with a detatched, yet intense, expression.
        Maxim stops at the weapons counter, ignoring whatever hostility the bouncer there might show at his rudeness towards the mistress of The Succubus, and takes his pistol, checking the load and reholstering before he leaves without further fanfare. Mayhap he will enjoy himself tonight. Now to find a willing broad to share him. That arrogant bastard.
        Brutus nods "Have a nice evening sir" he smiles, no apparent hostility at all in this one.



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