A Particularly Prioritized Professional

Please do not be rude to our muns.

We are having an increasing issue with rude anons being sent to a number of our muns, and that isn’t cool, under any circumstances.  Please, please keep in mind that the people on the other side of these screens are just that: people, who are playing these characters that they love and trying to have fun with the other people in this community, including yourselves from time to time.

Whether it’s a criticism with how they play a character, or not being active enough, or taking a mean joke too far, please take a minute to consider that what may take you five minutes to type out and send off could negatively affect someone for a long time after, and it isn’t fair to ruin someone else’s fun in this way.

“An ad space.” You confirm, watching him read over the paper. What is he feeling right now, you wonder. Betrayal? At a friend whose mouth was too big. Perhaps fear, or panic. You relish in it. Why dont you play with smaller pieces more often, this is far too entertaining.

“The bar in question belongs to…well, I wouldnt say a friend. Someone in my debt. I want it to do well.”

You take a step towards Eridan, arms folded neatly behind you back.

“Though I’m afraid its not that simple. You see, I cant very well have it out in the open that I am backing this particular horse. So I propose a trade. I will keep your secret, and your livelihood will remain intact. In return, you provide the ad for me, and keep it a secret by whom the ad was placed.”

Another step forward and you hold out your hand.

“Deal?”

You can’t fight this today.  But you know he is going to want more. Lying to the crew is not something you want to do but, ah fuck. This is going to get complicated. You don’t want it to be complicated but it is. But you know you can’t win right now.

“… Deal”

You shake Scratch’s hand with disdain.  And once to let it go you visibly clean it on your clothes. If you can’t get anything good out of this at least you can be petty as hell about it.

“Well if you excuse me, I have a show to transmit. You can find your way out.” You take the paper and no idea on what to do next. Scratch has you by the string, goddamn puppeteer. So you just walk out of the room and upstairs to the booth, not that you have to do it right now but you need to… hide.

The floundering is always the best part after exposing a secret, most end up making fools ofthemselves. Though hes smart to deny it anyway. Never let the enemy get the answer they want out of you.

“I’m not here asking for your support. What I’m asking for is ad space. Theres a new bar in town. I want to see that it thrives,and your station is the best way to help it do that.”

You wave the piece of paper for him to take. Its the message Kanaya wrote, though hers is the only visible name. The other name(Stitch’s) is marked out. Boom. Proof.

“I had hoped we could settle this without getting nasty, though. I’m a very understanding man. Who knows what kind of havoc it could cause, were this information to leak into the public?”

You take the paper out of him and look it over. Hmmm. Bad. Bad bad bad bad. “Just an ad space.” Maybe you should had just accepted his goddamn money. But now you got someone to confront about this. She mentioned it, to who, how did he get this.

But that’s for later, he has it now, he has it now and he will use it. And if you keep denying it he will just walk off the door and expose everything to the public, and you didn’t build yourself this spot with blood, sweat and hard work for your entire public image to go off, by the Felt. Not today Satan.

"The bar in question belongs to...well, I wouldnt say a friend. Someone in my debt. I want it to do well."

You take a step towards Eridan, arms folded neatly behind you back.

"Though I'm afraid its not that simple. You see, I cant very well have it out in the open that I am backing this particular horse. So I propose a trade. I will keep your secret, and your livelihood will remain intact. In return, you provide the ad for me, and keep it a secret by whom the ad was placed."

Another step forward and you hold out your hand.

2.2 Million. Not a bad amount, a bit specific. Might be selling himself a little short, but thats a young troll for you. Reminds you of another seadweller, actually. Though not all trolls of the same color are related, then again you suppose every troll that exists is somehow related to the other, in a way? Look, you havent read your book of troll biology in a long time.  Anyway, you hadn’t really expected him to give up anything without a bit of prompting. “I’m sorry if I came across wrong, Mr. Ampora. I assure you, what I have to say is something you’ll want to listen to.”  From your jacket pocket, you pull out a small piece of paper and unfold it, appearing to read the contents though you know them by heart. Its the message you have as proof. Its a shame to burn through the secret so fast, and its not like you particularly like your plan hinging on one troll keeping his mouth shut, but you prefer this method. If nothing else, it will be amusing to see how it ends.  “You’ll forgive my insistence, Mr. Ampora, but I had heard from a reliable source that the radio actually caters to the mob, you see. Are you familiar with a Ms. Kanaya Maryam? Because she has told me some things about you, sir. Like how you’re actually working for the Midnight Crew. You do know the girl, dont you? Jade blood, seamstress.”

And that is when it gets bad. That is when it gets bad fast. Kanaya … she sold you out? That makes you hesitate. “Well…” Why would she, why would she? To Dr. Scratch. You buy yourself some time that way, just room to process.

You can lie all you want but he isn’t wrong. He knows. Regardless of him getting the information of Kanaya or not, he still knows the truth. “I mean yes I worked with her, she has done me some clothes and I ran advertisement, the usual, but involved with the mobs that’s just so… ” You shake your head and you start pacing.  You thought you were pin point perfect on how you covered every single part of it. Somewhere a slip happened, you will have to ask her later if you make it out .”…ludicrous.”

"I'm not here asking for your support. What I'm asking for is ad space. Theres a new bar in town. I want to see that it thrives,and your station is the best way to help it do that."

You wave the piece of paper for him to take. Its the message Kanaya wrote, though hers is the only visible name. The other name(Stitch's) is marked out. Boom. Proof.

“Really, all of them? How inconvenient.” You dont move, and your easy smile doesnt budge. This guy reads like a book. Some people are just more emotive, though you find it more in trolls than humans anyway.

“If its a matter of money, I am more than happy to pay. You’ll recoup your losses easily enough. Name your price.”

Not because youre actually going to pay whatever price he says, you’re just curious how much it takes to buy a man like Eridan Ampora. A little fun before what is likely to be a deeply unpleasant conversation.

Your fins flare aggressively. “My… 2.2 million for adds? I don’t think that would be worth it.” There is almost a hiss, almost but you manage to contain it. You really want this man gone of the room.

“I don’t think nothing will get done here, sorry. And we have a tight schedule here, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline due time, but again you can come back other time.”

Theres a long drawn out pause as you stare at his outstretched hand. Ew. Seadweller. No thanks.

Youd considered the possibility of him playing dumb, as well as the lesser likely possibility of it being untrue. Either way, if he doesnt know you, why not proceed?

“My name is Doc Scratch. I am a businessman, and I’m looking to buy advertisement space.”

You pull back your hand, visibly judging him for it, and you use that as your excuse for all possible emotions to be showing in your face. You want to get out of this room, run and tell everyone what you saw. Right now.

And that’s when it sinks. See this is a very dangerous game that you are deciding to engage on right now, with Dr. fucking Scratch of all people, but you have a million lines to back it up. You know this place and how it works, this is your ground and you will stand firmly in it. But for crying out loud. He is here, from all the places in the city he decides to exist here. How unfortunate.

“I’m afraid all spots for the next couple months have been booked and or moved. What with the commotion and all we had to find a way to repay business who paid for advertisement and couldn’t get it due the chaos, so maybe if you come back in a couple months maybe we can attend to you”

"If its a matter of money, I am more than happy to pay. You'll recoup your losses easily enough. Name your price."

Oh boy. This is absolutely not a conversation you want to have, basically ever. Of course she would want to know what your intentions were. Little does she know you actually have no idea yourself. Looking back in it, what were you even thinking, kissing her like that. Though, she also kissed you. But thats beside the point.

“Ah…” Every part of your brain is screaming this is unsafe territory. Youve never been in a relationship before, and theres a reason for it. Emotions get…muddled. You cant afford to be compromised in this line of business. Just look at what its done to Trace.

But…

“It may be, hm…that is, I cant promise I will be a good partner. In fact there is an excellent chance I will be the worst partner you’ve had, near unforgivable. You know how I get. But…if you’ll have me.” This is a lot harder than you were anticipating. “I do care for you. More than I know how to say.”

You are almost sweating from the effort that took to say in a way that still keeps face. Dont let that wall down too far, for gods sake, Scratch.

“As far as boundries, though, theres no need to apologize. Ive become accustomed to it. Nothing need change.” Yeah, thats really what you need, a reminder every day that you gave in to your base instincts just like everyone else.

You watch and you listen as this otherwise smooth-talking gentleman struggles his way through a basic paragraph.  Your expression is carefully monitored, but then you breathe a small, amused sigh and you smile.  Poor creature. You’re going to be the death of him and you both know it.

Upon propped elbow, you balance your chin atop curled knuckles, and you purr loudly enough for him to hear.  The two of you are as different as light and the dark, and in other ways, you are precisely alike.  It is why you’ve gotten on so for nearly forty years.  (The first year doesn’t count.)

“I care for you too, James.  Immensely and irrevocably, even if I will likewise be, perhaps, a trying and at times unpleasant partner to deal with.”  Always so intense.  “I do not expect you to act any differently than you did before this point, for what we have–have had, I suppose–does not need qualifiers.  No goo-goo eyes.  No romantic declarations to the world, no particularly special treatment.  Discrete as you like, or public, it matters not to me.  I am not much of a romantic.”

Adding with a chuckle, “You already suffer my cuddles well, like a good sport;  I would just like to indulge in the occasional kiss now, or other physical affection, if you so desire. This is simply… a formalization, of sorts.”

"Not at all, If I am not going to change I cant very well expect you to."

You wouldnt say youre a selfish man, but there was part of you that thought she had meant to...how are the kids saying it these days? 'Go steady'. Besides, how are you supposed to compete with a King. Damn.

"Forgive me for saying so, but as long as we're not in public, I dont mind it." The lightest of pinks returns to your cheeks. "Ive never been one to mix private life with public if it can be helped, though."

You're more than sure she can understand that, and the veneer is so fragile these days. Privacy is a must, especially in matters of the heart.

The radio has always been what you called ‘multi territorial’, in that any of the factions in the city can hear it. The newspaper falls into the same category, but less personalized.

Though your personal preference has always been word of mouth, advertising on a city wide scale would be much easier with the help of the station and particularly the man -troll- who runs it.

Initially youd planned to approach as a simple business owner looking to make up losses after the halloween misfortunes. But you happen to know the radio sports a black flag, and though he may not place you on sight, most if not all crew would recognize you. So you changed tatics. More fun tactics.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Ampora.” You say cooly, standing off to one side of the break room table. You dont sit in plastic chairs.

“I have a business proposition for you.”

There is a bit of a deer in headlights situation for you. See, you are crew and you know who this is, but you can’t give that away. You have to play the dumb ass radio announcer who has no clue who he is talking to. Even then, you force yourself to bag everything but your script and reach for a handshake.

“A business proposition you say? I’m all ears.” You put your best voice, you pretend there is nothing wrong with this and you sound and look almost excited, as much as it is natural for you. It’s not a lot but it isn’t out of character to look mostly annoyed at a lot of things.

Youd considered the possibility of him playing dumb, as well as the lesser likely possibility of it being untrue. Either way, if he doesnt know you, why not proceed?

Two unusual days in a row. You are kind of wondering why on earth would be so unlucky or so odd. You hope this is going to be another normal day at the radio, so you for once arrive early because there is some minor news you have to organize. When there is not a lot of material you have to make sure to make it entertaining and balanced as possible.

Since much of what you are doing is relaunch halloween late, it’s not that difficult. It’s just so much as having to come up with more voices to interpret your next weekend reading. Because that’s a thing you do now. You live read on sundays, which used to be your free day, but not anymore. It’s all about picking a new short story, a spooky one. 

And while your head is full of this things and your hands full of papers and notes and corrections you mindlessly walk into the radio station until someone stops you. One of your coworkers say that you have a visitor waiting for you. For fucks sake it better not be Cronus again. He is inside the break room they say. Ugh. You tell them you are going.

You shove most of your papers in your bag before taking the pencil from your ear and scratch a couple words out, you replace them quickly. And you do this, and mindlessly walk in doing this because you feel safe enough to not pay attention. You just close the door behind you don’t care that you two are alone, someone that you haven’t even bothered to examine.  “You needed me for something?” And that’s a problem because when you look up the person in front of you is anything safe.

Though your personal preference has always been word of mouth, advertising on a city wide scale would be much easier with the help of the station and particularly the man -troll- who runs it.

Initially youd planned to approach as a simple business owner looking to make up losses after the halloween misfortunes. But you happen to know the radio sports a black flag, and though he may not place you on sight, most if not all crew would recognize you. So you changed tatics. More fun tactics.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Ampora." You say cooly, standing off to one side of the break room table. You dont sit in plastic chairs.

As he’s speaking, you close the notebook and set it to the side. From your breast pocket comes a notebook of equal size and shape. You turn to a fresh page and start writing, nodding as he speaks.

“My plans involve having a word with Ms. Leijon. This little back and forth with Diamonds has gone on long enough, and I will not allow her to do as she pleases for a moment longer.” You dont mean to sound as riled as you are. It just doesnt sit well with you. Those three in general are a headache and a half, but the girl…its always the girl, isnt it. Absolutely impossible.

“As for Nine, his reeducation, to my knowledge, has gone as planned. It will take a while longer still for him to readjust, but with all things considered, treat him as you normally would. He cannot be replaced, and as we still have a use for him, he will remain.”

And thats all you have to say about that.

“Moving right along,” You pause in your writing to re open the filled notebook off to the side. “There was a bit of unpleasantness a little bit ago involving Snowman and The White Queen. I suppose kidnapped her might be the best way to describe it, though from what I heard there may have been more to it than that. Either way, upon returning the queen, as part of her demands, Snowman recieved amnesty on the matter for the entire Felt. I dont trust the lae folk, though, so its something to look out for.”

Hmm. Is that it? Any other unlawfullness that might be traced back to you? Ah…right.

“There is one last thing. Something that none of the others know, and that I would ask you keep secret until the time it comes to light. I have, shall we say, an agreement, with our local neutral supplier. A good friend of his was subject to one of my experiments, and when he found out, I offered him that friends freedom in return for supplying free of charge any items requested. There may come a time when I am accused of such acts as I have described, and though there is little proof, the police are just aching for a stab at me.”

You always figured some troll can be like wild animals at times, you just can’t have a leash on them. And you would say that about yourself even, so this isn’t a problematic view at all. You don’t know who started it but you think that Nepeta better be the one to end it somehow or this could potentially escalate to worst. “If there is someone who can alter the course before the crash it’s you.” You think you both see the potential ramifications of this kerfuffle  and you think he knows better than anyone where this might go. This problem can’t be nipped in the bud any longer, so you understand part of his bitterness.

The notebook has always given you a sense of uncertainty, that just means you had said something quite relevant and you might never know what. Is it good, is it bad, you don’t know. Although he might just have been writing his own words for future reference. Something that just happens you think. You just nod in response, he will remain.

“I have a feeling they will look at every possible hole in the statements to make their move. I would need access to video or audio or any paperwork made. I will cross reference with all law, if we are unlucky this might fall into a category of ‘special cases’ or even be talked as an act of terrorism which on itself can’t be pardoned just because.” So, this is the big fish one. The one that makes your skin crawl. Monarchy law, prospitian law and derse law, specifically Midnight City law are all different. There are ways to turn this all around you just need to make a day for it, because if you can find the hole that means it’s just a matter of time before the law wants to use it, not only you have to find it you have to counter argue it and fast. So you take out your phone and select about 5 days for yourself on this matter.

You damn well know he did it and that if you weren’t a bad person this could be  his meets end. But you also know this isn’t a hard thing to do for a bad person like you. “If could have full paper destructible specifics on that it would be helpful. If not then I make sure this doesn’t go anywhere. ” You add 3 more busy days to your calendar and think. 

Doze was right, you were just located in the middle of the storm.  You have a hard time suppressing the annoyance in your face, you feel it shows. “I have a feeling more is going to pop like daises but by that point I hope I would had made favorable progress.” You are slightly infuriated, you are easy to infuriate so no biggie. You take a deep breath.

"I will provide all documents required for your work, naturally. Including the information you can put on your innvoices."

Usually you dont like leaving paper trails, but the law has more scrutiny for those who serve it than for those who break it. Always best to look on the up and up, theres nothing the competition hates more than a sqeaky clean record.

Your writing comes to a slow end, almost mindlessly filling pages with thoughts and information as it comes. He seems to be excusing himself, perhaps hes more upset than youd realized.

Its a sad story, but a story nonetheless. I tried to help you and you wasted my kindness. I wont entertain these fantasies you are claiming I’m responsible for.

You think 13 years makes you a different man? 13 years of suffering and suddenly you’re better than you were? Go back where you came from. Suffer more. Then come back and lay your woes at my doorstep. I dont know what kind of reaction you’re expecting to get from me out of these fairy tales you’re weaving, but I wont have it, Strider. Not then, not now. You are responsible for what you’ve endured. And if you come to me saying otherwise, then I say you’ve not lived or suffered nearly long enough.

Haha. Big man thinks he’s got the final authority on what does and does not qualify as Legitimate Suffering.  As if you know the first thing about me other than I was a stupid dipshit who clutched onto the first rope that was thrown at me in the more desperate fucking time of my life.  Ain’t that fuckin cute.

Here’s some advice to you, offered free of fuckin charge: How about instead of worrying about trying to delegitimize my story to make yourself look better than the idiot who knows he fucked up, you start worrying about your own damn self?

See, I’ve been keeping tabs on you.  You know that, Doc?  And 13 years is a long fuckin time to be gathering up all kinds of interesting fucking info.  I know all the sick shit rumors surrounding you, and I’ve been connecting the dots from place to place, slowly putting together the whole story from fucking scraps.  My ear’s been to the ground and my eyes are open all over this city, even being away like I have been.  You may think you’re some unflappable fuckin big dick chessmaster, but dawg, I got some news for you.

You’re not as untouchable as you want to believe.  And it doesn’t matter how many moves ahead you think you are?  Because, my good bitch, I’m a good five steps ahead of you at all times, and I have been for some fucking time, even if you didn’t know.  You may have forgotten about me, but I’ve never forgotten.

For so long, I was all up and fucking asleep, see? Too blinded by my own shit to dare to face all the fucked up shit I got me and my boy dragged into.  But we can’t hide from reality forever, any of us.  Sooner or later, the truth’s gonna find us and shine a light on the ugliest of our skeletons.

Back then, when we first came to this planet, I thought you gave me everything, but in the end, you took my everything.  You took him, and I slaved over finding him and finding out every little nasty thing I could find out about you, and now I know exactly what it is you get up to behind closed doors with those kids you take.  And now?

Now, it’s my life’s fuckin mission, my higher FUCKING calling, to see to it that your ugly truth is all dragged kicking and screaming into the light, before I personally escort you to hell where you belong.  I slept on my denial for years, and dreamt of payback, and you know what?

You dont scare, Strider. To put it as simply as possible.

I’m certain I dont know what you’re suggesting. I dont recall ever robbing cradles, though a time when there were innocents offered up as lambs to the slaughter does come to mind.

Oh, he’s certain, y’all!  Don’t that just fuckin beat all. He doesn’t recall, thereby it never happened and he is hereby absolved of all his sins! Praise motherfuckin be.

Listen, I know my fuckin sins.  I’m the one that’s had to live with them for the past 13 fuckin years, alright?

But setting up a pair of fresh-off-the-boat immigrants who had jack-fuckin-all except for the clothes on their back with a too-good-to-be-true contract? With terms and conditions that you knew would be all but fuckin impossible for them to meet in the time given to em?

I’m certain I dont know what you’re suggesting. I dont recall ever robbing cradles, though a time when there were innocents offered up as lambs to the slaughter does come to mind.

Oh, he’s certain, y’all!  Don’t that just fuckin beat all. He doesn’t recall, thereby it never happened and he is hereby absolved of all his sins! Praise motherfuckin be.

> Doc.

> Motherfuckin.

> Scratch.

> You know him.  Intimately and terribly fucking well, you know him.  The last person on this godforsaken rock you ever wanted greeting you, knocking on your metaphysical fucking door. > Restrain yourself, Big D.

> Things just got twice as interesting and three times as fun.

My memory is better than you’d think, Mr. Strider. Though you’re correct, it certainly has been a while.

Well, you know what they say, D-Scrizzle. Some shit about fishing.  Real profound.

> Doc.

> Motherfuckin.

> Scratch.

> You know him.  Intimately and terribly fucking well, you know him.  The last person on this godforsaken rock you ever wanted greeting you, knocking on your metaphysical fucking door. > Restrain yourself, Big D.

> Things just got twice as interesting and three times as fun.

My memory is better than you’d think, Mr. Strider. Though you’re correct, it certainly has been a while.

> Doc.

> Motherfuckin.

> Scratch.

> You know him.  Intimately and terribly fucking well, you know him.  The last person on this godforsaken rock you ever wanted greeting you, knocking on your metaphysical fucking door. > Restrain yourself, Big D.

> Things just got twice as interesting and three times as fun.

My memory is better than you'd think, Mr. Strider. Though you're correct, it certainly has been a while.