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<span class="mu-g">"A different one, I actually moved into the executive suite at Syron HQ a few months ago. Trying out taking home to work with me instead of the other way around."</span> You reply with a smirk. The suite is half of a floor of the building far in the air, essentially a mansion with a number of amenities and features, including a security system that might even make Vincent shiver, to say nothing of the deterring presence of a True Fae just a few floors above.
To this, Vincent wrinkles his nose. <span class="mu-g">"Does the lizard pay you in scrib now, too, <span class="mu-i">mon poto</span>?"</span> He asks before drinking down another couple of ice cubes to smugly crunch on. His gaze drifts across the room, past you. <span class="mu-g">"This must be why you never have no fun anymore, eh? Always in the dragon's den. I should not be complaining so, <span class="mu-i">pardonne-moi</span>."</span> He says, and then turns his attention back to you. <span class="mu-g">"I'm glad you joined me tonight, I've been working long hours myself, the whole crew has. I am overdue for a few Hawaiians, and who better to have them with?"</span> He says.
You stop yourself from cringing at the mention of the 'whole crew', but nod, and this does at least remind you to order a drink to the table. You press a button along the side, swipe your wrist on the scanner, and then a small holo-caster on the wall of the booth projects an interface where you quickly select a bourbon neat. <span class="mu-g">"Anyone better wouldn't be caught dead in this dump."</span> You quip back. A beat. <span class="mu-g">"What's the score this time?"</span> You follow up. Much can be said if Vince, but he has excellent taste, and your curiosity about the things he chooses to steal is easily engaged. Both of you, really, are deeply curious in general, and it has always been one of the many commonalities that keeps your bond strong across the years.
<span class="mu-g">"Wouldn't you like to know?"</span> Vincent replies, finishing his drink. He orders another on the interface, having to type it in as a custom order because not many bars still serve them. <span class="mu-g">"It's been at least a year since you worked a job with me, no? Well, buy my next drink, I will tell you. There is a magician living down here, near the East shore. He owns a pair of shoes that will fetch a particular price with my fence. Nike Decades, supposedly worn by some coven of warlocks centuries ago during a ritual."</span>
>Cont'd
