spam; the last journal post

[ukan]

[Getting on board was a moment of chaos. He remembers turning a corner, expecting to find fur and blood in his mouth, expecting maybe to get torn up in return, expecting maybe a bullet from above to take him down, too-

But instead he's somewhere metal, somewhere that smells of strangers and strangeness, and he's bleeding a trail but he runs for safety anyway. If there is any. If there are doors, anywhere, that he can open without changing back, because this has to be the FBI's work and so long as they think he's just a wolf, maybe they won't slit him open and poke around inside.]



[ooc: Lark is a wolf, for now. He'll have to change back sooner or later even if he doesn't want to, so feel free to tag him as human or wolf, just lemme know which.]

Comments

[ukan]

[he looks like he's thinking about lying, but Tommy being straight for a change brings out reluctant honesty from him.]

Because it's a subconscious reaction nearly everyone has. I don't take it personally because it's rarely intentional.

But, the fact remains. There's vinegar.

[bleak_midwinter]

With just you, or with everyone?

[ukan]

[He shrugs] I have no idea. The only person I've seen you talk to is me, so far.

I think you wouldn't be much of a businessman if you reacted to everyone the way you have to me, but I also don't think your business would thrive if you were jolly or carefree.

Why? [Considering how much Tommy hates Lark drawing conclusions about him, it's an odd thing for Tommy to ask.]

[bleak_midwinter]

[He doesn't hate it-- he's used to people drawing conclusions about him, because of his accent or his heritage or his last name. He chooses to use those conclusions instead of being annoyed by them.]

Curiosity. I rarely have the need to ask people what sort of an impression I leave.

[ukan]

Mmm. None of that is my impression of you. I told you about the law of averages.

[Playing a hand: a straight.]

I can tell certain things about people based on how they react to me. I may not know the details behind their lives but I know, for example, you don't need the things that I'm looking for. You've found something, or developed something in you, that the people who tend to like me don't have.

[All fairly vague descriptions, there are intricacies to it that he's not sharing. The fact is that Lark's survival depends on being right about his compatibility with people the first or second time he meets them, and he hasn't yet been wrong.

Well, except once. Lesson learned, universe.]

[bleak_midwinter]

[He concedes the round, and puts his cards back into the deck for him to shuffle.]

And what is that?

[ukan]

[He snorts]

Why don't you take a guess for a change.

[bleak_midwinter]

[He finishes his drink, puts the glass down softly, and tips his head to the side a little as he thinks.]

A need to have someone make their decisions for them. To be lead.

[ukan]

[Lark would never waste his time with poor decision makers, but he smiles, neither confirming nor denying.]

Your turn to deal.

[bleak_midwinter]

Hmm. [He picks up the cards and starts shuffling, quickly, and dealing efficiently.]

You spoke of an opportunity.

[ukan]

Several. Which one caught your ear?

[bleak_midwinter]

The opportunity of a lifetime, of course. [He picks up his own cards, starts playing again.]

[ukan]

[He smiles, nods, 'Right'. Although the truly incredibly opportunity that Lark can offer will hopefully stay secret at least long enough for his fledgling pack to find its feet.]

What do you know about bets and debts?

[bleak_midwinter]

[He raises an eyebrow as he deals out a card-- he won't even honor that with an answer, Lark, and he believes you're at least smart enough to know that he knows a lot about that.]

[ukan]

[He laughs, earnestly good-natured right now]

My bad. All right, then I'm sure you, as a Warden, have noticed there's no standard currency here. We can't even use cigarettes because most of us don't smoke and it's easy to get them anyway. We don't use sexual favours because...

Well I suppose some might. It wouldn't work for me, though.

[bleak_midwinter]

[The eyebrow quirk grows a little more amused, and he nods at him, silently asking him to go on.]

[ukan]

A very patient person could work their way through every person on the Barge, figuring out what they want or what they need that they can't ask the Admiral for or just haven't realized they have yet.

[Lark is that patient. But he is happy to pretend he isn't.]

Right?

[bleak_midwinter]

They might do that, yes. [He deals as he goes on, taking a card, skipping a round.]

[ukan]

And what would you do?

[he has a hunch]

[bleak_midwinter]

We weren't talking about me, Lark.

[ukan]

We're talking opportunities. You can't calculate those without information.

Hypothetically, of course.

[bleak_midwinter]

There's only one thing I need, and I've a deal for that already.

[ukan]

Yes, I know. I meant if you were the one running the game.

[debt and its power are never about what the lender needs, but about what people need from him.]

[bleak_midwinter]

I consider myself a patient man. [He gives Lark a significant look-- that's all you're getting here, pal.]

[ukan]

Sadly you're also a Warden. So as far as business partners go, I think we can agree people would frown on you having anything to do with me that isn't about my "redemption".