RP:Sinful Industries ...Name Pending

Synopsis: After some time, Orphyn and Trajek cross paths once again to discuss future business endeavors.

Characters: Orphyn, Trajek,

Location: Vailkrin

Date: October 7th, 2016

Hanging Corpse Tavern

Orphyn was playing the role of bad girl today. Her garb, from head to toe was black. All of it. Her jacket collar was flipped up; the dead giveaway of who she might have been being that bright pink hair resting at the top of her head. She was busy at the moment, obviously locked in conversation with a masked figure. "Well. Then get it another way. I ain't got time for this crap. If you don't do it, I'll do it. And we both know what that means." From her breast pocket a small satchel was introduced into the scene, quickly passed off to the stranger. "Get it done." As words fell from the air, the masked man listed his head forward in understanding, his exit swift and determined.

Trajek :: When you were being hunted, where do you go? Do you go to ground, hide in the shadows, or find the darkest, dankest sewer? Do you leave the city where you are wanted and run to another corner of the world? When your name is whispered before and after you arrive, before you notice the eyes that slide your way and how the gazes remain even after you caught them? What do you do when the whispers throughout swiveled between the strongest Vampire House and the weakest? If you were a ghoul, you continued on with your day, passing from building to building, from company to company. But if you were a vampire, your eyes and ears were open. Trajek entered the Tavern, his once armored garb exchanged for torn, ratty robes and an even worse hood. His empty sockets were quick to assess the few undead around, parsing vampires from zombies from...a brightly pink-haired woman. he walked through the room, his head and shoulders bent in a servile manner, and he only spoke in his garbled, gurgling words when he found himself near Orphyn's presence. "Do...you...listen?" His sleeve shook and the muffled jingle of coins in a purse followed his words.

Orphyn watched the concealed figure leave the tavern, her eyes narrowed- Cold. Those manipulative wheels were turning, her mind calculating the next step in the plan. What would- The thought process stopped. It was the sound of that mutilated echoing of words that pulled her from business-minded stupor, those ebon painted lips curling into a sneer. "I listen. To all sorts of things." Her gaze dropped to where the jingling sound emanated. "What can I do for you, dollface?"

Trajek takes her question as an offer to sit; he filched a seat from its proper place, the wooden legs grinding against floorboard in an obvious, though no less ominous, show. Once he sat, he put her good natured conversation to the test, pushing his hood back enough to expose his gray, dead flesh and the gaping wound on his throat, his signature though no less gruesome feature. "Do. You. Remember?" Ghastly fingers motioned to his face, his empty eyes, and hole at his throat. "Deal. Long ago. You listen. I pay." His other hand was soon unencumbered from the leather purse, the coins making an even louder jingle as their encasement was dropped on the table.

Orphyn looks a bit skeptical as she perused his lifeless features. There was definitely something that struck familiarity. She then spied the hole in his throat and there was a sudden outburst."Holy crap!" Obviously something clicked. "I guess I wasn't far off with that dollface remark. Yes, I remember you my gurgly friend. Sorry I ain't been in touch to get more details... been a bit... busy...." The tender pink of her tongue emerged to caress her lip. "You're still walking and... kinda talking... so I take it 'life' is swell? Well. As much as it can be I guess?" Orphyn grinned as she eyed that bag set atop the table. With quick glance around to make sure none were eavesdropping, she finally cut to the chase, "So, I'm listening. Whatcha got to say today, sweets?"

Trajek waited as Orphyn cased his features, his patience and presence as still as the grave. His head did tilt in regard when memories were reattached to his phase; it was his reply as much as it was a friendly greeting. "Business. First." He pushed the purse closer to Orphyn. Even the dead could see how she desired it. "Listen. Dealings. House Mahara. House Dragana. Dates. Times. Places." The payment was lighter than such a request demanded; the first purse was soon accompanied by its twin. "Listen," A bony hand hovered over one purse before swinging over the other. "Silence."

Orphyn was not a patient woman. Not in this mindset at least. She fought every urge to just just from her seat and smack the life out of that walking hulking shell of a being. It wasn't that she had any issue with the undead entity. Far from it. Sometimes a girl just has to let loose, you know? Her grin turned to confusion. Then a serious nature. Her voice grew quiet. Gruff. "I'm not sure I follow exactly. The names of these....houses. There's something that I recognize. Are they giving you issue? Is this a... cleaning job?" The leather of her fingerless gloves creaked in her lap as hidden fists tightened. His cryptic words had her curiosity piqued.

Trajek gave Orphyn a quick jerk of his head. "Intelligence. Information. Gather. Listen." Even on the best of days with the tightest grip he could muster, his sentences would be just as frustratingly simple. "Need. Times. Dates. Places. Mahara. Dragana. Members." Even he his patience was wearing thin with his inability at full articulation; his gray features softened in sympathy with Orphyn. His request, made as plain as he could muster, was put aside for the moment when he lofted a bony finger at the woman. "Your business. What. Do. You. Need?"

Orphyn wanted to slap herself, now; It made sense after she thought about it. She really needed to lay off that mind altering stuff. "Me? The only thing I need is time and gold." She reached down to a small leather bag and pulled out a piece of shaved charcoal and an empty sleeve of parchment. She began to write the names of the requested houses, her own plotting beginning to take place. She had recalled at least one person who brandished such a name- a starting place of sorts. "This.. I can do, sweets. I got me an idea of where to start. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer if you get my meaning?" An eyelid fell as she winked for effect. "Is there anything else?"

Trajek gave her a curt shake of his head again. She had her own machinations, schemes, and plans. Though eyeless, he was not blind and his resurrection had not been yesterday. "No. -Your- business." He hitched his thumb towards the bar, to the fellow on a stool who was giving a poor performance of hiding his need speak to her with his fidgets, his sweaty brow, and the wringing of his hands. "Allies. Aid. What do -you- need."

Orphyn grins. That sinister kind. The one that says there's something not quite right with this girl. "Oooooh. Well. Over here at Sinful Industries- Name pending of course - we're always looking for bodies to fill various roles. Whether it's networking and recruitment, importing and exporting goods, or trash disposal!" She lifted a hand and put it close to her mouth to hide her lips from possible onlookers, a heavily exaggerated whisper escaping. "Euphemisms. Wink wink." Her eyelid double tapped as she said this. "We're a small time operation, but if I get things my way, we'll be expanding into new territory. Opportunities for all sorts!"

Trajek gives a little snort of a laugh, though it was more at the girl's actions than the business or its name. Things were always needed in the underground: things needed stolen, people needed framed, and competition needed to be crushed. And it was the latter thought that brought his empty eye sockets to fill with a simmering, sloshing blackness. He lusted after his own talents as much as she did currency, and his words were sopping gurgles from a salivating mouth. "Who, Need. Killed?"

Orphyn cackles unexpectedly. Her eyes went wild and her grin spread ear to ear. And just like it had started, it too came to a dead halt. Her expression stiffened as she quipped, "Everyone." Orphyn seemed quite serious. "As of this moment, none have their names on my list. But that changes quite often. Especially when I work with idiots..." Her nose wrinkled. "Are you looking for physical work then? Crushing windpipe and breaking faces? Maybe snacking on some entrails? I could always use a muscly type. Preeeetty sure someone will want me dead sooner or later."

Trajek leaned in closed when she mentioned the possibility of an entrail meal. If there was one thing a ghoul always wanted was more dead flesh to eat. "Kill. Dispose of bodies." Pale fingers brought bony knuckles to his forehead in a gesture of acknowledgement. She had stoked his desire for dinner with all this talk of killing and consuming, and the look in his turbulent eyes sharpened. "Meet. Soon." His words came quickly, but he got to his feet even quicker. The first poor soul he met on the street was in for a less than fun evening.