Honor Among Thieves - A Dishonored RP [Closed]

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Yay~ Can't wait for this to start, and Yes I;m still in. No worries about the posting time Avayu, Here in the states that's when I have a decent amount of free time anyway.

Just a quick question, would you guys like to have a user group for OOC discussion? I'm not sure it is needed with a group this small, but it certainly couldn't hurt.

Edit: Edited the list of accepted characters.
Edit2: I'm nearly done with my first post, but something has come up. I'll post it, but I won't be able to respond to anything you do until tomorrow. So please don't take the Laughing Hagfish apart while I'm away.

Honor Among Thieves

A Dishonored RP

The young man in the blue suit wrinkled his nose in disgust. The small back room to the right of the bar was cleaner than the main taproom, but that didn't mean much. Instead, this hole seemed to be dug too close to the groundwater, giving the whole room an additional smell of mould and death. A loud harrumph made him flinch. The owner of the Laughing Hagfish stood right behind him, his big figure imposing and his stance somewhere between annoyed and threatening, but he didn't lose a single word. Only when the young man fully stepped through the door case did he step back, closing the door heavily, still not speaking a single word.

Now alone, the man shrugged, but it was clear that he wasn't comfortable with this situation. His long and delicate face showed a nearly unnaturally pale colour and despite the low temperature in the room, a single bead of sweat stood on his brow. He took his seat on the far side of the table. This chair at least didn't smell as if anyone had died on it lately. Other than the table and the four chairs at it, there only was a small barrel in one of the corners of the room. He took off his hat and put it neatly on the table next to him, revealing a well groomed head of black hair. Then he started to go through his satchel, taking papers out of it and putting them in front of him as well, neatly and orderly. With time, his hands stopped shaking.

But he didn't stay undisturbed for long. A single knock on the door and in came one of the Laughing Hagfish's waitresses. The patrons called her Old Betty, but nobody was quite sure whether that was her real name. She wasn't even old, really, but she certainly looked the part. Sorrow had dug deep trenches into her face, her brown hair was stringy and falling out in patches. Her eyes had the dulled look of someone who drowned their despair in alcohol and she was only able to maintain her fake smile because she had had multiple stiff drinks since that morning.

"Can I get you anything, good Sir?" The last few rotten teeth in her mouth made her speaking barely comprehensible.

"Yes, I'd like a cup of coffee", the young man answered after an awkward moment of silence, "and maybe one of these little apricot tarts."

Betty looked at him as if he had asked her to kiss the Lord Regent's big toe. Another long moment of silence followed. Had Betty still known what embarrassment was, she might have felt it. Her opposite did, without question.

"On closer consideration, I don't need anything. But my guests will soon arrive. Would you be so kind to take their orders and put it on my tab?"

People rarely were that polite to Old Betty, which was why she just nodded and disappeared again, as quickly as she had come. And so, the young man in the blue suit went back to his papers, occasionally looking to the door for new arrivals.

Collin shuffled into the room, his looked somewhat grim but his eyes darting about the room betrayed his fear. He scratched nervously at his left arm as he approached the man. He patted at his clothes in a futile effort to make himself look presentable to his potential employer and straightened his posture in an effort to look older.

"E-excuse me sir, are you the one to talk to about the job?" he asked, his voice wavering momentarily before he finished composing himself.

The man sitting before him certainly looked like he had money, his suit was nice at least and he was clearly well taken care of given his appearance. Collin wondered what the job was, might be easier to rob the man and run for it... no he dismissed that thought, wasn't sure where it came from anyways, not like him, must just be his headache.

Earlier-The Flooded District
Silas lower himself carefully though a broken skylight and in to what was, at one time, a rather posh apartment. Not anymore though, between the damp, the rats and Outsider knows what else, it was now just another mouldy ruin...all be it one that may still have good stuff to knick.

Pulling his hood back for better hearing, Silas moved about searching for anything of value, while keeping a watchful ear out for weepers. After fifteen minutes of searching he'd only found few odds and ends, the best being a bottle of processed whale oil. He was about to call it a night when he spied something half hidden behind some rotting books on a shelf...a lock box!

The surprisingly cheap lock gave up in moments and Silas eagerly scooped up the contents, a small River Krust pearl, a vial of Remedy and a vial of Elixir. Topping up his flask with the Elixir, he finished it off before adding the rest to his takings. Tonight had been quite profitable.

Silas pushed through the door of the Hagfish in good spirits. A few words with the barkeep pointed him towards the back room, and a potential way out of this dying city. Beer in hand he pushed his way through the door. A dandy, and a kid...well this seems like a great start. He thought idly as he sat. Seeing the other two chairs, he took a pull from his drink. Wonder who else we got coming to this?

Gen sat in a small booth in the Laughing Hagfish, trying to get that slight buzz she seemed unable to live without lately. The watered down beer wasn't aiding her in her endeavors. She watched the door the well dressed man had gone through, waited as two others passed the door into the room. She fingered the blade of her knife in her coat. She couldn't tell what but something about this job made her uneasy. But coins were coins, and she needed to get the hell out of this dying city. She downed the last half of her drink with a gulp. Setting the mug down with a dull thunk Gen fished the bone charm out of her vest pocket. The small cravings on the bone were confusing as always, yet there was a peace to the charm. With a sigh she slipped it back into her pocket. Time to get a move on. She thought grabbing another drink from Old Betty's tray as she passed.

Drink in hand, Genevieve made her way to the door and into the room. She eyed all three as they eyed her in turn. Glad I didn't follow fancy pants here the other night. He might have had a few coins on him then but that's nothing compared to what he's offering She thought as her eyes lingered on the man in the suit.

She took a seat next to the boy. Poor kid, he should be chasing girls in the market street, not scraping by as he waits for the plague. Her mind flashed to her own daughter. She would have been seven last week. She shook her head and took a large drink of her beer. NO, don't think about her Gen! Finally her eyes rested on the last man. Right arrogant prick. She thought sizing up the man.

"Yes, yes. Please take a seat.", the young man answered the even younger one.

He wasn't quite sure what to add. How did people greet each other in these circles? Was a there a certain code to follow? The soon-to-be-employer of a group of thieves really didn't know. Which should have concerned him, but there really wasn't a way for him to be more concerned that he already was.

Two more people entered the room, taking their seat. Since no new answers were demanded of him, he returned his eyes to a certain piece of paper. He studied it remarkably well, considering it was completely empty. After a few moments, even he realised that and so his interest wandered to the absolutely uninteresting empty barrel in the corner of the room. But even this new tactic could not delay the moment he would have to speak again indefinitely. Another awkward minute passed before he opened his mouth, though, which could be counted as a win. Not for anyone in the room, certainly, but maybe for time in general.

He looked up again. What he saw filled him with a strange sense of disappointment. He hadn't expected honourable men. They had told him that. Also, the applicants being dishonourable was part of the reason why he had come here in the first place. But what he saw in front of him just didn't fill him with a whole lot of hope for this project. A stranger, whose posture spoke of confidence, but whose general appearance spoke of not much else. A drunkard with sadness in her eyes. A child with a problem with bodily hygiene, judging from the scratching. Not really impressive, any one of them.

"So, I think we'll wait a little longer before we get to the main ... business. But I think you all know why you are her. I'm looking for a group to help me with the retrieval of a certain item. Maybe each of you could tell me of your prior experience with this kind of ... work?"

It seemed wrong to make this an application process like for any other job. It was wrong. But the nervous young man didn't know what else to do. He had only ever hired maidservants before. Which was considerably easier: You just gave the work to those who were wiling to do it for the least amount of coins. Also, you were able to speak about the dirt without becoming a criminal.

"So, I think we'll wait a little longer before we get to the main ... business. But I think you all know why you are here. I'm looking for a group to help me with the retrieval of a certain item. Maybe each of you could tell me of your prior experience with this kind of ... work?"

Silas laughed into his rather watery beer. Setting the glass down, he eyed up the dandy. "So you need something stolen do you?"" He asked finally. "Normally I'd figure you for a set-up, gut you, and be gone before those Guard choffers kicked the door in; but since they don't come within a few blocks of the Hagfish...not if they want to keep livin' that is...I guess you're actually legit."

Pulling his dagger from his belt he began to idly carve into the table. "I happen to be the best damned thief in this rat infested cesspool of a city. Knicked lunch right off the Empress' table once. There isn't a lock I can't pick, or a place I can't get to...keep that in mind you're thinking about crossing me" He added.

"Yes, yes. Please take a seat."

Collin nodded and did so, there were two others now both much older than him. A woman who had a bit of a sad look in her eyes, and a man who looked like he was accustomed to this type of thing.

"So, I think we'll wait a little longer before we get to the main ... business. But I think you all know why you are her. I'm looking for a group to help me with the retrieval of a certain item. Maybe each of you could tell me of your prior experience with this kind of ... work?"

What kind of work? What if this is a trap to get us to confess to crimes? Not like they can't take me in if they just searched me, I'll just be vague or lie I guess... He glanced about at the others somewhat nervously, hoping one of them would speak first, Silas did, boasting about his accomplishments, when he finished Collin steeled himself and spoke with confidence..

"Been nicking stuff for years now, I'm older than I look, people don't pay attention to me though, swiped damn near everything but the boots off an overseer without him noticing just yesterday," he said, bits of lies and truth intermingled "I'm good with boats too, makes getaways easy."

The sudden appearance of a dagger brought about an audible gulp. At least it was only carving the wooden table and not the dandy's flesh. Still, the bead of sweat on his brow seemed to grow. He managed to calm himself down enough to continue the conversation.

Only to nearly fall out of his chair when Collin spoke about stealing from the Overseers. The dandy wasn't really a religious man. He couldn't be, the Overseers would have a whole lot to say about restless hands and roving feet concerning what he was doing right now. But he still had a lot of respect for the Abbey and its men. It was one of Dunwall's most important institutions, after all. He turned back to Silas.

"So, you're the best ...", He still couldn't bring himself to say the word, as if he was confessing to a crime just by saying it, "The best one in all of Dunwall? You wouldn't happen to have credentials for that?"

It was one of the stupidest questions ever asked inside the Laughing Hagfish. And for a place that was usually full of drunks, that certainly meant something.

Already sunset. Damn! Zelia quickened her already hurried pace a little more. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't already cynical about the prospects of this job, having wasted an awful lot of time on other possible ways out of Gristol in recent weeks that had amounted to nothing. Still, opportunity was opportunity.

She'd run across the posting for this job while seeing if she could ferret out any new potential leads from others that had lost it all in the flood and that was good enough a lead as any to be going on with.

Entering the Laughing Hagfish, she slowed only a little and made her way quickly to the back room, pausing only briefly to order a glass of cider from Old Betty as she went. At least it didn't look like she'd have to wait long to find out what this was about, judging by the other, already filled chairs.

Zelia sat herself down in the last remaining chair and looked around briefly. A lanky looking kid, a man currently occupying himself by carving something into the table and a woman that looked...tired was probably the best word.

And that left their host. Clearly, the pressure of being here was getting to him. Upper class then. The kind that hasn't had any dealings with the portion of the city that can't afford to drop a small fortune on gourmet food. Either this was going to be promising and he simply hadn't had to deal with people "beneath his station" before, or this scheme was going to be entirely bonkers.

"Good evening. Sorry for the delay, I had to take a detour to avoid some rats, vile things. Did I miss any of the details? I'd rather like to find out that this isn't a wild goose chase." In contrast to their host, while she was also wearing clothes that were at least moderately expensive, she appeared quite at ease in the Hagfish. Having dealt with the sort of clientele likely to frequent the bar when bringing in supplies for the less legal side of her business, she'd had a bit of practice at keeping her cool in places like this. Besides, showing that many nerves was not a good way to discourage people thinking you were an easy mark.

Silas gave a short bark of a laugh, when the kid made a comment about robbing an Overseer. "Nicely done kid, it's always good to hear those pricks getting taken down a peg." He said, is opinion of the kid rising quite a bit. "Shame you didn't give his ribs a tickle while you were at it." He added, gesturing with the dagger for emphasis.

Looking over the woman who'd sat beside the kid, he gave her a rough appraisal. A little tired looking, but not bad...definitely wouldn't mind giving her a tumble if I get the chance. He thought, giving her a less that wholesome smile.

"So, you're the best ...The best one in all of Dunwall? You wouldn't happen to have credentials for that?"

Silas turned from the other two, and fixed the dandy with a flat stare. "Oh yes." He replied, the sarcasm so thick you could almost cut it. "I always get a receipt for the stuff I've nicked...sometime I even get the people I rob to write me a little note, give me a review on how well I stole from them...." What a fucking ponce! He thought, before going back to his carving.

Looking up from what he was doing when the door opened; he was struck with a sense of having seen the woman, who'd just entered, before. After a few moment of wracking his brain, he snapped his fingers as he remembered. "Saw a painting that looks a lot like you at a place in the Flooded District...those glasses kinda stand out."

Some people would have taken the dagger and killed themselves out of embarrassment after getting an answer like that. The man in the blue suit just sunk a little bit lower in his chair. He felt stupid, sure, but it wasn't as if his reputation with these people could get any worse. Not that it mattered, because he was still the one with the money. Or at least that was what he told himself, trying to strengthen his resolve.

The newest arrival at least was more to his liking. The woman in the white suit and black coat also didn't seem like she belonged in this place, but in contrast to him, she wasn't shaking in her boots. Her whole appearance spoke of someone who knew how to do business. Real business, not just the criminal kind. Which gave him hope that there would be at least one person to understand him. The young man pulled a fob watch out of his waistcoat, looked at it and nodded. Then he looked around the room, which by now wasn't overcrowded, but definitely full and nodded again.

"I think we can begin.", he said and then, to the waitress moving by outside: "Would you please close the door."

The door was closed and his gaze once more returned to the papers in front of him. From now on they would be of more help. That gave him confidence. This should have been what he was good at, after all, meeting people and making business proposals. Why should it matter that these people were thieves and his proposal was to steal something. He was just looking for contractors for work to be done. Straightening his back, he stood up.

"Thank you all for coming ..."

In that moment, the door flew open again. In came the most odd pair the young man had ever seen. First came a big man, wide and tall enough to have problems coming through the door. His square head was absolutely bald and the dandy would have sworn that his eyes were looking in two different directions. He wore a heavy coat with a collar of Tyvian fur that had most likely once belonged to a rich woman. The second man was nearly invisible behind the first one, maybe half as tall and a lot slimmer. He wore simple clothes and leather boots, but his face told everyone that this man was far from simple. A full, black beard hid his mouth, but his glistening eyes showed a positively inappropriate enjoyment of the situation.

"You didn't start already, did ya?", the smaller newcomer asked, while his companion just uttered a incomprehensible grunt. "My brother and I, we wouldn't want to miss a thing."

The man in the blue suit seemed to be confused for a moment, unsure on how to react to this rude interruption, but then he decided to just continue. The two new guests closed the door and took positions next to it. The young man started a second time.

"As I said, thank you all for coming. My name is Francis Fink. I'm an assistant to the Attorneys Haken and Wolfe ..." A sneering whistle coming from the door disrupted his speech for a moment, making him shoot an angry glance, continuing with a self-reassuring nod. "As you certainly know, one of the the oldest and most respected chambers of law in all of Gristol. You will certainly understand that this meeting will not be, in any way, traceable to them. We are representing a client who has recently lost some of his personal belongings in a game of cards. Among these is an item of great sentimental value, which he now would like to bring back into his possession. This little case ..."

He took one of his papers from the table and gave it to the person to his left. It showed a drawing of a little wooden box, maybe as big as a tome. While the sides were relatively plain, apart from oval inlays of a different wood, the lid was highly ornamented and crowned by the carving of an old sailing ship, riding the waves under full wind.

"It is made out of the most precious woods the isles have to offer, dark woods from Serkonnos and Tyvian fir. The picture on the lid is carved out of whalebone, making it especially exquisite. The casket has been in possession of the family for generations. Now it is in the hands of a certain Lord Brisby. We'll pay 5000 coins per person for its retrieval."

Fink looked around, waiting for the questions that would surely follow.

Gen's eyed the sketching of the box. Several thoughts ran through her head as she took another drink from her beer. The question why would any choffer would bet something he wasn't willing to lose being the first. The second being of the reward for getting said box. She couldn't care less what the damn thing was made out of, nor what was in it. As long as she got her cut and the ticket off of Gristol, she would be happy.

Finishing her drink, Gen spoke up. "Only one question for ya then fancy pants; when do you want the damn thing?" She asked lifting an eyebrow.

Collin listened carefully, and examined the picture closely what these pampered folk will pay for a bloody box. One of the others had already agreed, he knew for that much money he was hardly about to refuse. Still he had questions, he was hardly about to sign up for a suicide mission. He felt a breath on the back of his neck but there was no one there, and the dark whispers muttered into his ear, he scratched at it irritably and they subsided.

"Where's this Brisby keeping it?" he asked, hoping he hadn't spoken too quietly for them to hear.

Silas nearly made to fight when the two newcomers barged into the room, but settled he himself when it became clear that they were here for the same job. Nodding as the tired woman and the kid both asked good questions, he slipped the dagger back into his belt. "Here's a real corker for you...how do we know you won't have a bunch of Watch waiting for us once we've done the job?"

Zelia smiled in response to Silas. "You've been to the emporium then? I'm sorry for the mess. If I'd known you were coming I'd have tidied up a bit." The smile settled into more of a smirk. "Or I would have done if I'd been anywhere near the place any time recently. Zelia Droite, Droite Acquisitions...The part of not currently underwater in any case."

Having watched the arrival of the newcomers and listened to the questions from the others, she added some inquiry of her own. "Firstly, Mr. Fink, where is the item to be delivered? I doubt you want it delivered to Haken and Wolfe. Secondly, the contents of the box. I've no interest in them frankly, but if the box's value lies moreso with what's inside than the box itself, then I think we need to know. I've no intention of making a delivery to be told that without the contents the deal is off. The more detail you can give us, the more likely this will get done to satisfaction...and ours, for that matter. I doubt I'm the only one here who wants off this festering rock."

She smiled again, to try and keep Fink's nerves at a level where he could still give them the details they were asking for and took a swig of her cider to wait for the response and any other questions from the others.

"I'll be here in the Laughing Hagfish in three nights. If you haven't finished your work until then, I'll leave instructions on where and when to find me with the barman. You'll hand the casket to me and only to me.", Fink answered two of the group's questions at once. "If you aren't able to deliver within a week, you will pay a contractual penalty in form of a detraction from your payment. If you don't deliver, you won't get paid at all."

By now he had figured out that most of these people had a professional side, were interested in details and contractual obligations. He was able to deal with that and so he spoke with more confidence. A confidence he needed for the other questions.

"The casket is absolutely empty.", he claimed.

"I don't believe you. Nobody pays that money just for some silly looking box.", the small crook at the door said after looking at the sketch. His "brother" just made a noise that was probably supposed to be a laugh.

"It is of no concern for you. The box is empty, but it is of the highest importance that you bring it to me intact." Fink tried to sound more forceful now, but his voice was still a little bit shaky. He quickly went on to the next subject.

"The casket was last seen in Lord Brisby's study, on the third floor of his town house in the estate district. It is one of the smaller buildings, but Lord Brisby is known to be quite secretive, not even allowing his noble visitors full access to some parts of it."

At last, he turned to Silas. The look in his eyes showed nothing but disdain for the thief. Silas was getting on his nerves with his accusations and his nerves were already on edge. Fink was getting annoyed, angry even. Not angry like a man in power, but like one who just couldn't stand being bullied any longer and was that short of just snapping. He threw his chin up and answered in what was, for him at least, nearly a violent outburst:

"I am a honourable man, mister. I would prefer if I didn't have to deal with you, but it is like it is. Neither I, nor my employers or our client have any interest in involving the City Watch, I give you my word." He sharply drew a deep breath. "You ... You claim to be the best thief in Dunwall. So, if you find the Watch waiting for you, it was probably you who made a mistake."

His short tirade elicited a chuckle from the duo at the door, but Fink chose to ignore it. His face was getting red, but by now probably more out of embarrassment over his behaviour, than out of anger.

"Any more questions?", he asked.

Gen snorted as she heard Fink put the man, the self proclaimed best thief in Dunwall, in his place. If the mans ego was as big as she thought it was, well, it was going to end up as a fairly lonely journey away from Gristol. Empty box eh? Leave it to a Noble to spend a life saving amount on such a trivial trinket. Gen rose from her seat, leaving her glass on the floor. "Nope, I got all I need. I'll be around a little longer, should any of ya want to talk plans." She said looking at each person in turn before heading to the door. Her eyes lingered on the brothers for a second longer than the rest.

Collin considered it, he had already made up his mind of course the money was too good to refuse, but like the two men he doubted it was an empty box. Even a noble would have to be daft to spend so much on an empty box... he shrugged. The location worried him somewhat, he had never done a heist before, although he wasn't about to tell the others that. One hand slipped inside his coat and touched the rune, feeling some comfort from its presence.

"I'm in," he said quietly, not sure what else to add. He would certainly stick around for planning, no way he would be able to do this on his own.

Silas smiled as the dandy lost his temper. I appear to have struck a nerve...fuck it, so long as he holds true. Finishing his drink he eyed up the others, his sight settling on the newest arrivals; he didn't trust them...well he didn't trust anyone in the room, but those two where at the top of the list by a long shot.

So much fuss for an empty box...if Fink and his lot are willing to pay so much coin for it, I wonder what Brisby'll pay to get it back...might need to look into that. He thought, staring into his empty glass. A snorting laugh caught his attention.

"Nope, I got all I need. I'll be around a little longer, should any of ya want to talk plans."

"I'm game." He said. "I'll admit I usually work alone...better split of the loot that way, but there's a first time for everything." Looking towards Gen, he stuck a grubby hand out. "Firstly, if we're going to do this I feel I should know your name, mine's Silas. Secondly, since you seem to already have an idea, mind giving us a rundown?"

"I've got a question.", the smaller crook said with a smirk, "I've also got a plan."

He nodded to the bigger one, who took the signal to move into position, pushing Gen out of his way. His brother continued:

"Nice to meet you Silas,", he said with a fake smile and a taunting bow, "but I would prefer if you kept your mouth shut from now on."

With that said, he turned to Fink and pulled his gun. In the meantime, his bigger brother had moved in behind Collin and pulled the boy up from his seat. The height difference between the two was enough to make Collin stand on tiptoe, as the man used one of his muscular arms to press him against his massive chest, putting a knife, or rather a cleaver, to his throat with his free hand. The other crook, still pointing his gun at Fink, spoke to Collin over his shoulder.

"Listen, you little urchin. When my brother cuts, he cuts deep. No stopping him. So you better not bloody move. Or you soon won't have to worry about that plague no more."

Returning the focus of his attention back to Fink, but clearly still watching the whole room from the corner of his eye, he continued:

"So, I wonder: Why should we do your bidding when you could just give us the money, ha? Just give us all of it and nobody will get hurt. Or would you rather have some more time, watching the kid bleed out, to think about it?"

"Please, don't do it. I don't have the money with me.", Fink pleaded, "The owner of this place explicitly told me that he didn't want to have to clean this place."

The fact that the dandy seemed to be more concerned about incurring the wrath of the barman about a few bloodstains than about his own life got a short, bellowing laugh from the crook.

"Give us the money. Now."

Gen had turned to address the man named Silas as the brute pushed his way past her. In her half drunk haze she needed to grab her stool to keep her balance. What happened next was a bit a blur. Once she re-oriented herself, Gen took quick stock of the situation. A gun, a hostage, and a threat. Nothing that wasn't out of the ordinary for a poorer district of Dunwall. Something that she was sure everyone in the room was familiar with save the dandy. She put on a smile and slowly moved down to pick up her empty glass.

"Easy now friend, we all want the coin. No doubt. How's about we settle this over a drink?" She asked holding up the glass, quietly hoping the others would play along.

Wonderful. Zelia thought to herself. We've barely started and already the fools are out in force.

"As much as we'd all like it to be that easy, you're not thinking this through." She began, keeping her gaze fixed on the man with the gun. "Let's look at the facts, yes?"

She held up a hand and extended a finger.

"One. Haken and Wolfe aren't the sort of people so stupid as to send Mr. Fink here with the money. They're in the business of getting the nobles what they want, when they want it. The nobles don't care where things come from, only that they get them. Which means that people like Haken and Wolfe are not stupid, because they're still in business."

Another finger went up.

"Two. As clearly unaccustomed to this side of business as Mr. Fink is and as upset as I'm sure he would be if you did cut the boy's throat, the threat doesn't get you any closer to the money. Fink doesn't have it, nor will his employers care about another dead street kid. So as a hostage, kind of a bad choice."

Another finger.

"Three. This is an important one if you'd like to see tomorrow. Trust me. I used to be in this kind of business before the flood. People like Haken and Wolfe tend to have people they prefer to use for this sort of thing. If they're anything like what's left of my contacts though, I'd wager they've died of plague or some other thing, or we'd not be having this little meeting tonight, yes? Which means they're looking for new, reliable contacts. And one way to do that is to watch. I gurrantee you someone else out in the bar is also an employee of Haken and Wolfe, albeit less well dressed. Someone who watched him and us come into this room and someone who will be quick to either iron out problems personally or pass the information to someone that will if they don't see him walk back out again. Do you understand? There's no point killing Fink. There's no point killing anyone here. Fink dies but everyone else walks out, the other person, the hidden one, they'll ask questions. Do you really think that anyone else who wants this job will keep quiet about what you did if you're silly enough to pull that trigger? I imagine we'd all be feeling rather bitter. Well, you could kill all of us then. That might stop us from talking, yes? Except then the problem you have is that the person watching will KNOW who the problem is by virtue of everyone else being dead."

She put the hand down. "So sorry gentlemen, but you've backed yourself into a no win situation. I'd suggest cutting your losses and looking elsewhere for a mark that's actually carrying any sizable amount of money." She smiled at Gen's suggestion and Fink to keep the man from breaking under the pressure. "My associate makes a wonderful suggestion though, I must admit. I'm sure Mr. Fink can at least make up for your wasted time by spotting you a drink. Take it or leave it gentlemen."

Zelia continued to gaze at the more talkative crook, waiting to see what he decided to do. Admittedly, she wasn't entirely certain about that last reason. But the important part was that she'd sounded certain, she looked the part to speak from experience (and to some extent she was as far as working out which blackmarket contacts to trust) and it made for good material. That didn't stop her from being concerned she'd need to reach for her pistol though..

"Listen, you little urchin. When my brother cuts, he cuts deep. No stopping him. So you better not bloody move. Or you soon won't have to worry about that plague no more."

Collin knew better than to struggle with the steel blade pressed against his throat, never-mind the gun the other man had drawn. There was no room for him to strike at the larger man and if he did so he would likely not survive long, any squirming he did was him shaking in fear rather than actually struggling.

"P-please sir, If I'm g-gone who will take care of m-my little sister?" he said, the question was a lie but the stammer and fear in his voice was quite real. Even behind his terror there was a part of him that had begun imagining sinister fates for the two brutes, gnawed on by rats would be a start.

Zelia's words seemed to have caused the confidence of the two crooks to totter. The next grunt of the big one sounded more questioning, as if he was asking his brother what to do. His brother did not back down yet, though.

"You are a liar. You all are! A pretty boy like you doesn't leave his house without a bag of coins."

"She's right,", Fink responded, "I don't have the money with me. Listen, just put the gun down and let the boy go, and then we can talk. I'll pay the drinks."

Seeing even a hint of doubt in the eyes of the thugs had given him hope to get through this situation without spilling any blood. Now this was just like in court, two sides lying at each other, fighting with words, and he thought he had seen the attorneys Haken and Wolfe often enough to know how do that. Concerning his employers, it wouldn't have been unlike them to sent someone to watch him, but they certainly hadn't told him.

On the other side of the room, the brute seemed rather unimpressed with Collin's plea. Compassion was a rather abstract concept to him and his brain wasn't good with abstractions. He raised his left arm a little bit, trying to put pressure on Collin's neck, to squeeze all breath of him and to make him stop talking. But then he thought to hear the low patter of little feet and a tiny squeak. From the corner of his eye, he believed to see a rat's tail scurrying away behind his back. Instead of a grunt, the next sound out of his mouth was rather more a squeal. He jerked, pressing Collin even closer against him, but then held him a little bit more loosely.

This distracted his brother for a fraction of a moment, in which he turned half-around. But the smaller crook quickly regained his focus, turning back and raising his weapon again, though not as high as before. This wasn't going as he had planned, but he wasn't the kind to just let go.

"No, I won't put the gun down. Give me a good reason why I should! There's still something to get here and I won't go with empty hands."

Heh, I'll give it to her, she knows how to fast talk. Thought before putting a crestfallen look on her face. Not leavin huh? Guess that's a no to the drink." She said with a shrug. She looked at the smaller crook, a gleam in her eye. "Well, if you won't take the drink....how bout the glass?" She asked chucking the glass with all her might at the smaller crooks head before drawing her knife from her coat and aiming to tackle the man to the ground.

That the pair had done something didn't surprise Silas, that they did something so monumentally stupid right off the bat did. Hell, I didn't think they were THAT small time... He thought. When the smaller one demanded the money, it was all he could do to not laugh. Anybody with half a brain knows you don't actually bring the coin with you when you're offering a job...fuckin' amateurs.

Even so, as nobody had really threatened, or tried to rob him, he was content to see how it would all play out. All that changed when Gen threw the glass at the little one. Always capitalize on a opening. He though, springing into action. Pushing himself back he stood rapidly, while drawing his pistol. Levelling it at the larger ones head, he spoke in an icy flat tone. "Let the kid go nice and smooth, and you might live through this"

The smaller one had half turned around towards Gen when she threw the heavy beer glass, allowing it to him smack-bang in the middle of his forehead. His skin burst open like a Morley blood-sausage that had been in hot water for too long. A shot rang, harmlessly going into the ceiling. The crook was hit by Gen, stumbled and went down, hitting his back on the table. With one hand he had to brace himself, his wrist making an ugly sound. But the other one still held on to the gun.

His brother meanwhile looked into the barrel of another gun. The expression on his face was one of confusion. Someone else than his brother was giving him orders. He turned to his brother in a silent question, but still didn't let go of the boy, keeping his cleaver close to his neck.

But the small leader had by now finally realised that they had lost. There was nothing he could do to turn this around again, they could only cut their losses. He got the gun up again. His vision was clouded by his own blood, but he managed to point it at Gen, who was only a few feet in front of him.

"Let us go!", he shouted while blood dripped down his nose, "And nobody else will get hurt. Just keep you damn money and your bloody boxes."

Gen stopped a few feet from the barrel. A smirk had crept onto her face when she heard a meaty thunk from where the glass had hit him. "Now if ya had just done that in the first place, you wouldn't be in the shape your in." She motioned towards the door with a tilt of her head. "Get out, we'll make sure to explain to the fine owner who put a bullet in his ceiling." Her eyes flicked towards the bigger of the two, making sure he dropped the boy.

Collin was fighting the urge to struggle, it would be unnecessary considering what the other had just done, and the brute was more likely to cut his throat if he did so. He was still afraid, the feeling of cold steel against his throat did that, but now that the others had gained control of the situation that feeling was beginning to subside.

"B-better do what they s-say," he muttered to his captor "Less y-you want a m-matching head wound." He was aware of how pathetic the threat sounded with his fearful stammering, but he hoped it got the point across. Shot would be too good for him part of him thought.

Zelia relaxed, her hand inside her coat to grab her own pistol once Silas drew his own. Happily though, as things played out, she wouldn't need to do so.

Instead she smiled, shrugged and looked around the room. "Well, I can't say I didn't warn you." Quietly, while the smaller crook was more than occupied with the blood and the pain, she murmured as an aside in Gen's direction. "Nice throw."

The crook stood up, still keeping his gun levelled at Gen. His eyes darted through the room, making sure he wasn't the victim of another surprise attack. Under his beard, he was cursing them as he made his way back to the door. Once there, he gave a short nod to his brother. The brute followed almost immediately. Almost gently, he put Collin down and his weapon away. Then the two of them left as quickly as they had come, pressing themselves past the barkeeper, who had been alarmed by the noises from the back room.

The barkeeper gave Fink a questioning look, but after the young man told him that everything was good and that he would pay a little extra, he just closed the door without another word. Fink slumped back down in his chair, letting out a long sigh. A moment later, he looked up again.

"Thank you.", he addressed them all, but he especially looked at Zelia, who he thought had done the most to defuse the situation. "Of course we'll reimburse you all for this discomfort."

He took another deep breath, until his hands stopped shaking. Then he began to gather his papers, folding them neatly and putting them in his dispatch case. With everything back where it belonged, he put on his hat and stood up. At the door, he turned around once more.

"Now, I'll leave you to your planning. I certainly don't know much about your dealings. So I wouldn't be of much help. I do know, though, that the estate district is basically in lockdown. Last I heard, they even had a few of these tallboys patrolling the streets. Everything to make sure the sleep of the aristocracy isn't disturbed. But I also heard that the Boyle estate is having a party next week. They are still looking for some help. Kitchen work, probably, decorations. Maybe that will help you."

Collin dusted himself off, and stood giving a murderous glare at the two men as they left. He exhaled deeply calming down from the ordeal and turned back to the others.

"Thanks," he said quietly, they had managed to convince those two brutes to release him, so he did owe them that much.

"Now, I'll leave you to your planning. I certainly don't know much about your dealings. So I wouldn't be of much help. I do know, though, that the estate district is basically in lockdown. Last I heard, they even had a few of these tallboys patrolling the streets. Everything to make sure the sleep of the aristocracy isn't disturbed. But I also heard that the Boyle estate is having a party next week. They are still looking for some help. Kitchen work, probably, decorations. Maybe that will help you."

He wasn't sure how that helped them, he had never been to the estate district before, at least not that he remembered. Although he did remember that there was a canal leading up by the Boyle estate, at least he had heard there was.

"If we can get a boat I can take us up the canal into the district," he said, hoping he could seem useful after having ended up a hostage.

"Nice throw." Gen chuckled as then men left. "Thanks, years of fending off the guards with nothin but rocks and bottles teach that. And quick thinkin, with out you screwin with their minds like that, I wouldn't have gotten the throw." She said Zelia. "Names Genevieve by the way. Most people call me Gen."

"Now, I'll leave you to your planning. I certainly don't know much about your dealings. So I wouldn't be of much help. I do know, though, that the estate district is basically in lockdown. Last I heard, they even had a few of these tallboys patrolling the streets. Everything to make sure the sleep of the aristocracy isn't disturbed. But I also heard that the Boyle estate is having a party next week. They are still looking for some help. Kitchen work, probably, decorations. Maybe that will help you."

Gen couldn't help but groan at the mention of tallboys. "Ugh, of course. It had to be tallboys. Bastards make if hard enough to even make it into the district, let alone do anything in it." She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"If we can get a boat I can take us up the canal into the district." Gen looked at the kid, he was young, but so far it looked like he could at least come up with a decent entrance. "That might work, assuming we can get past the flood gate and avoid the spot lights. If it weren't for the hagfish I'd say swim."

An new idea formed in her head. She turned to Silas. "All right buddy. You say your the best thief in Dunwall? Here's a challenge from ya. How do we get into the district without being detected?" She asked with a smirk.

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