#intxication

Benjamin Andropolis. Asa finds as he shoves a bloodied jumper into the kitchen sink to soak it that he likes at least knowing the person's name. Something about it adds to the catharsis, lessens the depravity.

Maybe not really. A man is still dead. Body already dropped off to be cut up and disposed of. And Asa's a little dirtier than he'd expected. He can see it under his fingernails and that's the part he dislikes the most. A shower's probably best.

He's in a stained undershirt and dark slacks in his eclectic little flat where cats sleep and traipse about when he hears a knock. Shit. Shit. Asa wipes his hands quickly on a hand towel, brushes messy and wild hair back - can't help that his eyes are just as wild, untamed in their adrenaline. There's a few jars sitting on the countertop... anyone would know what the dark scarlet liquid is.

Asa checks the peephole and lets out a heavy breath of relief, tugging the door open. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, love. Come in, please. Hurry." He mumbles, pink-tinged fingers grabbing the other's arm to tug him inside.

Luke looked at Mathias and the 2,01m / 6"7 ft tall rested his hand on his shoulder. ❛ So, you're the PERFECT, muscle I need. The muscle I lack. ❜ Because I'm too cowardly, but that part left unsaid. ❛ I need you to exterminate a certain creature from my job. Technically, killing isn't my job. So, I figured. Mathias?! Yeah, why not? I can split this cash since you're helping me. ❜ If anything, he has no issues with payments.

"I'm scared to ask what you've been up to." Oz states simply as he sees Mathias walking up to the counter in the Atheneum. He hasn't seen him in a bit, and that could mean trouble or... well, Oz can't even imagine it not meaning trouble, so. "But... it's good to see you." He relents, setting the book he's working on down. "What's up?"

There was a lot going on in Isabelle's life at the minute. She was working as a surgical resident, a medic for The Syndicate and a part time personal assistant for Athena Marchmain. All to pay back student loans, her mothers medical bills, and the bills for her moms funeral. It was a lot of debt she was in, and after speaking to Sebastian and Vanja, she thought why not give the Only Fans thing a try. She would be completely anonymous, of course. Isabelle didn't want to risk her job, and if it didn't go anywhere then, she had lost nothing. She was nude, taking pictures of herself (not including her face) to put on there just to at least find out what type of reaction she might get and if it was something she should pursue more intimately when she heard the noise. A bang from another room, perhaps something had just fallen over - a couple of her books had a tendency to slowly slip from their rightful place because her bookshelf wasn't full. Rolling her eyes, she knew she wouldn't be able to relax until they were back in their rightful place, so with phone still in hand she made her way quickly to her living room where the bookshelf in question was. "Jesus Christ!" Isabelle exclaimed, almost jumping out of her skin. Phone flew out of her hand when she jumped, and she hurriedly took the steps backwards to her bedroom to retrieve one of her robes. She was red with embarrassment as she made her way back to the room, now at least covered up. "Mathias, what are you doing here? Are you injured? You should have called." Speaking of, where had her phone landed? "How did you even get in?" She asked, scanning the surroundings for her phone. She did not want Matty to see what was on there, even if he'd gotten a real life preview.

@intxication: 023; Back of an empty bus

Clark had spent what felt like most of his adult life tracking down Mathias. His big breakthrough had been realising that his cousin had changed his surname, and from then on it was just gathering information about Mathias Malkovich, and trying to find some kind of pattern to his movements or some job that he would be on that would be easy to intercept. Where he didn't expect to find himself, was in the back of a bus in the yard they were kept in after close, looking his cousin dead in the eye. All he could feel was anger, but all he wanted was understanding and justice. "Do you know how long I've looked for you, Matty?" Clark asked, a clear bite in his tone and though he was the type of person to feel a silent rage, you could still see it on his features. "I loved you like a brother, do you know that? Though maybe that's dangerous of me to say considering you murder those." He thought that when he was finally face to face with Mathias, he would barely have a second between punches to speak, but for some reason clenched fists remained by his side. Clark was well aware of the cold metal pressing into the hot skin of his hip, something brought with him for just in case... but if Mathias wanted his whole family dead, wouldn't he be dead by now? "I need you to help me understand, Mathias." Clark spoke, pausing for a moment, "I need you to help me understand why you did what you did, because there has to be a reason as to why someone murders their family." Doesn't there? Or is Mathias just psychotic enough to do so without reason? He feels like he has absolutely no idea.

Turning from the bar with drink in hand - she relished the burn and the warmth of it settling into her chest. A small comfort, and she had no idea what the rest of the night was going to bring - with no plans to speak of and being made to keep her distance from one of the few friends she'd want to spend the night with. She nearly jumped out of her skin, though, once she caught sight of Mathias. Swallowing hard, she sucked in a breath and approached. Bravery was stupid, she realized. The taste of bile in the back of her throat is prominent. She drinks another few gulps down. "Can I buy you a drink?" A peace offering. "I don't even know if you do - a club soda, if you don't, then."

Another round. Syd's still raring to go - there's nothing like a good fight to get his blood pumping. The anger he feels, any frustration... he takes it out in the ring. And this is the perfect excuse to brawl. He doesn't know the man who comes forward- certainly not part of the Cartel, but for all he knew their affiliation could be Brotherhood or Syndicate. Still, he's ready. Blood stains on the striped pants from his Beetlejuice costume, green smears from the shitty hair spray he'd used earlier that night that's now streaked on his face.

"You ready for me?" He flashes a charming smile. "C'mon man, give me a challenge."