Kilgrave had dealt with drug dealers before. It was inevitable, living in the shittier parts of London, for however brief a time. Some of the girls he picked up were vacant-eyed and slack-jawed even before he spoke to them, giggling and tripping over like idiots. He didn’t give a shit what they were on -- it didn’t change anything about them. But sometimes the men they were with were arseholes. He rarely noticed the men the girls were with, but occasionally they were looking for a fight, which was always hilarious. If they were dealers, Kilgrave always found out in a few seconds. He enjoyed putting them in their place. If they were armed -- and they usually were -- they turned the weapons on themselves. It was a public service, really.
From what he’d learnt about Patsy and Jessica’s drug dealer, he wasn’t actually a wastrel. Fancied himself a scientist, apparently. Had a stupid bloody name too. Vincent Vaines. Kilgrave hadn’t needed to make an effort to find exactly what he wanted to know -- a name, an address, and someone to drive him there. It had simply taken a few questions to some of his S.H.I.E.L.D. colleagues about Vydrate, and hey presto! Jessie hadn’t been lying after all. Clever girl. She knew there would be hell to pay if she did.
He dismissed his driver and knocked on Vaines’s door, waiting with his hands clasped together behind his back. As soon as the door opened, he didn’t give the other man a chance to speak -- he’d been looking forward to this meeting since Jessica had mentioned the man, and was impatient to get started. “You’d like to invite me in,” he said simply, and walked past him. And then, because he had to be sure he had the right man, he added, “Tell me. Are you Vincent Vaines? The man who made Vydrate? Stupid name, by the way. I mean, Vincent Vaines selling Vydrate? Come on.” He finally turned to look at Vaines, and waited.
@vertigovaines
