Black Dagger Brotherhood Beginnings
Black Dagger Brotherhood Beginnings

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 Rehvenge and ForeLesser 6.17.12

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Join date : 2011-12-12

Rehvenge and ForeLesser 6.17.12 Empty
PostSubject: Rehvenge and ForeLesser 6.17.12   Rehvenge and ForeLesser 6.17.12 EmptyMon Jun 18, 2012 8:50 pm


-Linking my fingers behind my head, I lean back in my chair as an amused smirk pulls at my lips. Business is good. The club’s ledgers are all in the black. Mahmen and Bella have settled in comfortably, safely, since Rempoon’s passing. Every foreseeable eventuality covered, every box neatly checked. Have to hand it to my deceased step-father.

The know-how of handling money had been drilled in early, and often. A glance to the monitors show me that Xhex has the floor under control, a trio of rowdy human males looking humiliated as she boots their doped asses out the door. I’d known she’d be the perfect candidate for head of security for Zero Sum. The skills of an assassin aside, that was one female you didn’t want to rub the wrong way. For a plethora of reasons.-

-Closing the legit set of accounting records, I set it aside before releasing the false bottom of the drawer it’s twin was kept in. Closing my hand around the other ledger that no one outside Xhex, Trez, iAm and myself will ever see, I flip it open to the current list of transactions. In the black, of course. The numbers just not quite where I’d envisioned them. Profits growing, to be sure, but not as quickly as I’d like. Word gets around like wildfire in a ‘burb like Caldwell, but I’d not earned the trust of the regulars. Not yet. I needed a way to “market” myself if I wanted to see the figures skyrocketing.


Damien finally felt recovered enough from his ordeal with the Omega to contact Richard Reynolds about a business deal. He had waited an extra week to make sure he had healed completely. He didn’t want to look weak to a new business partner.

Snagging the business card off the table, he grabbed the cordless phone and punched in the numbers. Listening to the ring at the other end, he hoped this would end in a new, and prosperous, partnership.


-Closing the ledger with a snap, I tap my fingertips against the leather of its cover. The third light on the desk phone flashes, indicating a call coming from an unsecured number.

I lift the receiver to my ear, barking in irritation at the interruption in thought- Richard Reynolds. -Amethyst eyes flick to the door that dumps directly into the VIP lounge, the presence of the Shadows beyond palpable, even from this side of the steel-cored door-


“Mr. Reynolds? Damien Rickman. I was given your card by a mutual acquaintance, Kevin Turney.” Thinking he might need to jog Reynolds’ memory he added, “He does business on the corner of Trade and Fourth. He said you might be interested in working out a business arrangement for steady shipments. I’d like to meet with you to talk about seeing what we could do to set that in motion.”


-Kevin. He’d mentioned one of the dozen or so street level dealers I’d put out on the streets surrounding Zero Sum. Kevin happened to be the brightest of the bunch with a keen sense of sniffing out profitable eventualities.

Leaving the caller to stew in silence for several long minutes, I give ample time for Mr. Rickman to waver, to begin the inevitable nervous chatter that humans seem to prone to. The instinct to fill a void.

A dark smirk touches my lips as I register that he hasn’t risen to the bait. I set my voice to it’s most professional level.- Mr. Rickman. Yes, indeed, I’d be amenable to meeting with you. I do not conduct such business matters lightly, you’d better be certain you understand what you’re asking for. -My mind already working over a possible location for this meet-and-greet.-


He was somewhat surprised at the directness. He had had his hesitations at first, but he’d been keeping an eye on ZeroSum and knew that whoever was running it, knew what he was doing and would bring that professionalism to the drug business as well.

“Just the sort of business agreement I was looking for, Mr. Reynolds. I don’t like to waste time. When and where?”


-Enjoying the boldness of the man, the potential for a profitable encounter has me grinning at the empty room.-

Do you know the all night diner, across from the Caldwell PD? -The irony of the location suited me well, fed the inner flair for the laughable. Weak minded humans serving up coffee and pie with a weary smile to the CPD. What was the old saying about being right under their nose?-

3:00 am. -Allowing time to close up the club, and plenty of leeway before dawn to conclude the arrangements.-


Damien registers the location and the closeness of the PD. He has to admire the balls of his potential partner. “Yes, I do. 3 will be fine. Would you like me to bring anything with me?”


-smirking, I acknowledge the statement with a straightforward answer- Nothing more than your weapons, if you find them necessary, Mr. Rickman.

-leaning back into the soft leather of my chair- I assume you’ve done your homework? You’ll know me on sight, yes?


He had heard Mr. Richard Reynolds was a bit of a clothes horse and, according to Logan, had very startling violet eyes. “Yes, I believe I’ll have no trouble picking you out among the blue, Mr. Reynolds.”

He smirked. “And as a show of faith, weapons will not be necessary.”


-suppressing a smug chuckle- And yourself? How shall I recognize you? -curious about the human who’d been brave enough to use the number on the card, I’d pictured a Miami Vice knockoff, a Don Johnson with the sense to wear socks-


“Don’t worry Mr. Reynolds. I’ll find you. I’ll see you at 3.” He hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. He wanted to be the one heading this meeting. That was one thing that had to be established right off the bat.

He looked at his watch. Five hours to go. If things went as he hoped, he’d have everything set up for a long term partnership.


-raising a brow as the call’s disconnected, I place the receiver back in its cradle and splay my fingers out on the blotter. Closing my fingers around the handset for the com-system, I give notice to Xhex, Trez and iAm that I want closing taken care of promptly as I’ll be leaving at 2:00 am sharp.-


After taking care of a few minor problems and checking on supply details, Damien addressed getting ready for his meeting with Mr. Reynolds. Glancing at his watch, he saw he had an hour and a half to go. Not that he was going to wait that long. He had every intention of getting there early.

He opened his closet and looked at his clothes. Reynolds was a walking GQ magazine cover. He had nothing that would come close. But then, he didn’t care about trying to compete with the fashion plate. His strength lay in his ability to move product and fill orders.

He closed the closet door and ended up putting on a black T, leather pants and a pair of Doc Martins. He went into the bathroom and brushed his hair. Billy Idol was still big so the color wouldn’t be a problem. He opened the medicine cabinet and took out the contacts he had had made for him. He popped in the blue contacts and checked the mirror. Perfect. He shouldn’t have any problems now.

Switching off the light, he grabbed his leather jacket and headed for the diner.

Arriving at the diner forty minutes early, Damien entered and glanced around. There were four cops there even at this late hour. He caught the eye of a waitress and asked for a booth in the back.

The girl led him through the diner passing the cops and a handful of patrons on their way. The cops gave him a once over and returned to their meals.

The waitress pointed him to the farthest booth in the back. He saw he was alone in the area. Perfect. After ordering a large coke for looks, he told her he was waiting for someone.

Once she left, he sat down and waited for Richard Reynolds to arrive.


-After overseeing Zero Sum’s closing for the evening, I’d taken my leave and slid behind the wheel of the Jag. My thoughts locked on the prospective business associate I’m meeting.

Chuckling at my choice of rendezvous location, I boldly pull the sleek car into the “5 min. pickup” parking space directly in front of the doors. Glancing across the street with a smirk at the CPD station, I step out and close the door behind me.

Sweeping through the glass and chrome door, at least thirty minutes early, I find myself caught in an intoxicating mix of greed and guilt ridden grids. A slow smile tugs at my lips as I nod to the waitress who’s given me the “Just a moment” acknowledgement, amethyst eyes scan the diner shrewdly as I wait, the words already on my lips as she approaches- A quiet booth in the back, if you’d be so kind. #BDBB
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