[ That's right this is happening. will a maid outfit be involved? we'll see if he opens his mouth (inevitable) but rest assured that he did request a style upgrade for reasons and if it happened to coincide with the date Planned Activity then that's just a coincidence.
Mostly.
So at the previously determined time, and at Vergilius's selection of a place, he'll be waiting. Cigar in hand, back in his usual threads, which definitely at least makes him look slightly larger, and he stands out a little bit more than he did before. (Somehow??) But the addition of the cloud of cigar smoke over his head probably would have made him easy to find, even if his clothes weren't clearly out of style for the area now. (To be fair, they're probably out of style for where he's from, too.)
Right as he takes a puff on a cigar, someone with a comically large package passes by, whacking him on the shoulder, sending him forward a bit, and his cigar falls to the ground, into a puddle of what he presumes is rainwater, but could honestly also be a vile puddle of chemicals. Who knew?
He opened his mouth to say something nasty to the passerby who has clearly not even noticed that they hit him with their comically large box. The question is: does he get stopped before or after he speaks up? ]
[For an imposing man, it must always be a shock that Vergilius moves as quietly as he does sometimes, appearing like a wayward ghost in someone's vision. He saw the affair, too late to stop it, but (based on ooc coin flip) here to interrupt whatever nasty tirade Silco had to give.]
[He bends to fish out the cigar from its puddle, a sad little thing.]
...Surprised they didn't see you. You're not hurt, I suppose. [And then musing to himself.] No, you're made of hardy things.
[The place they're at is a little hole in the wall restaurant of sorts. It seems he is intent on actual wining and dining....possibly.]
[ Saved but by the flip of a coin — for the moment — he starts when Vergilius almost seems to manifest out of nowhere, his hackles raised, but he coughs and clears his throat instead of saying what he'd thought about saying. The individual keeps going, not even realizing that they very nearly caused a clothing malfunction. They'll get to go about their day, blissfully unaware. ]
No, I'm not hurt. [ He confirms. He may be small, lean, and unimposing, but Vergilius is right. He's made of hardier stuff than at least that. If a man can survive asphyxiation and drowning, a box is a trifle.
That doesn't mean it isn't annoying. His eyes dart back their way, but they've already disappeared into the crowd. He tips his gaze back to him, instead. ]
So. [ So. ]
How is the patient? [ He points at the cigar, who looks sad, soppy, and probably non-recoverable. ]
Maybe we should abandon it for more interesting things.
[ He turned only a half-disappointed gaze to the cigar, before he shrugged it off. It was a shame, but. Well. How many cigars had he lit and then immediately stamped out over the years? Plenty more than that one, though these days he struggles a bit more for funds. ]
Hm.
[ He responded, a brief moment of consideration. ] I think I promised you only a drink, yes? Are we altering the terms and conditions?
[ His head tipped, a touch of a sarcastic smile on his face. Silco, normally, didn't tend to eat around others, but he'd had to get used to it here. The food was difficult to squirrel away back to his rooms, and he didn't have the advantage of what he'd had back in Kenos. Yet... ]
I will tell you what... [ He continued, hand itching to fish into his pocket for another cigar, but not quite yet. ] If you have an idea that's better than the food on base, I'll say yes to both.
[ His eyebrows — eyebrow — lifted in question, and he considered for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the back of his other hand, folded in front of him. ]
Dinner and a show? [ He's curious, and his tone says as much. ] Be careful, I might start to expect the best treatment next time, too.
[ Was there actually going to be a next time? Well. Who knew, but this was technically a second outing. If they weren't careful, there might be a third. ]
[ Man Verg you just can't call him out like that!! ]
I can't say no to someone who decapitates someone for me, it's true.
[ He says, with a put upon sigh. Truly, he is long suffering. As they walk though, he considers the question. ]
For a long time, I had people to take care of such things, and really, I don't exactly catch as much attention as someone like my second. [ To be fair... Sevika... ]
From time to time, though... [ A laugh. ] There is something satisfying about doing it yourself, hm?
Ah, well. Maybe I'll do something more exciting next time.
[What could be more exciting than a decapitation, he wonders...ah, well.]
[The man goes on. It makes sense - what he felt back there in that "job" of his was just that - a man used to pulling the strings. His body may be fair and lacking strength, but his skills laid elsewhere.]
[He wonders how many people fell in line for him.]
There is. I've never wanted anyone to do my jobs. [...] I had an Office once. A Crew. But my jobs were my own.
[ His interest is piqued. Is this what catches a man like Silco's interest? Quite possibly. You can't blame a guy for finding shows of violence interesting, can you? (Yes)]
A whole crew? [ And yet he did the jobs himself? That's more involved in the wetworks than Silco had ever been, a knife in Vander's back notwithstanding — a marvel, even when he thinks on the thought, a memory that had once been missing — but to be so involved was...
Foolish, he supposed. Also admirable, in its own way. There was a merit to being willing to get ones hands dirty. He did in his own way, of course, but there was only so much he could do compared to Sevika or Jinx. ]
But you kept your hands in it. I suppose I understand. My work necessitated violence, but it was... only one part of it. There was a network, an entire operation, you see.
[ Vergilius already knew he owned a club (because i just wrote it) but there had been so much more to that. Not that he thought Verg didn't realize that, after the murder of a man in the bakery. Silco had all the markings of something more than just a club owner. ] But what is it they say...? Delegation is the sign of a strong leader? Something like that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action
datePlanned Activity then that's just a coincidence.Mostly.
So at the previously determined time, and at Vergilius's selection of a place, he'll be waiting. Cigar in hand, back in his usual threads, which definitely at least makes him look slightly larger, and he stands out a little bit more than he did before. (Somehow??) But the addition of the cloud of cigar smoke over his head probably would have made him easy to find, even if his clothes weren't clearly out of style for the area now. (To be fair, they're probably out of style for where he's from, too.)
Right as he takes a puff on a cigar, someone with a comically large package passes by, whacking him on the shoulder, sending him forward a bit, and his cigar falls to the ground, into a puddle of what he presumes is rainwater, but could honestly also be a vile puddle of chemicals. Who knew?
He opened his mouth to say something nasty to the passerby who has clearly not even noticed that they hit him with their comically large box. The question is: does he get stopped before or after he speaks up? ]
no subject
[For an imposing man, it must always be a shock that Vergilius moves as quietly as he does sometimes, appearing like a wayward ghost in someone's vision. He saw the affair, too late to stop it, but (based on ooc coin flip) here to interrupt whatever nasty tirade Silco had to give.]
[He bends to fish out the cigar from its puddle, a sad little thing.]
...Surprised they didn't see you. You're not hurt, I suppose. [And then musing to himself.] No, you're made of hardy things.
[The place they're at is a little hole in the wall restaurant of sorts. It seems he is intent on actual wining and dining....possibly.]
no subject
No, I'm not hurt. [ He confirms. He may be small, lean, and unimposing, but Vergilius is right. He's made of hardier stuff than at least that. If a man can survive asphyxiation and drowning, a box is a trifle.
That doesn't mean it isn't annoying. His eyes dart back their way, but they've already disappeared into the crowd. He tips his gaze back to him, instead. ]
So. [ So. ]
How is the patient? [ He points at the cigar, who looks sad, soppy, and probably non-recoverable. ]
Maybe we should abandon it for more interesting things.
no subject
[He tosses it back to the ground with a little huff of a sigh, before turning his attention, always heavy as ever, to the man of the hour.]
Let's do so, then. [But first, he will ask, curious.] Are you hungry? Or would you rather we get a drink alone?
no subject
Hm.
[ He responded, a brief moment of consideration. ] I think I promised you only a drink, yes? Are we altering the terms and conditions?
[ His head tipped, a touch of a sarcastic smile on his face. Silco, normally, didn't tend to eat around others, but he'd had to get used to it here. The food was difficult to squirrel away back to his rooms, and he didn't have the advantage of what he'd had back in Kenos.
Yet... ]I will tell you what... [ He continued, hand itching to fish into his pocket for another cigar, but not quite yet. ] If you have an idea that's better than the food on base, I'll say yes to both.
no subject
[He's nice that way. A mild little smile plays on his lips - an offer for the crooked businessman, if you will.]
It could be dinner and a show, if that...might suit your fancy. Depends on what happens.
no subject
[ His eyebrows — eyebrow — lifted in question, and he considered for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the back of his other hand, folded in front of him. ]
Dinner and a show? [ He's curious, and his tone says as much. ] Be careful, I might start to expect the best treatment next time, too.
[ Was there actually going to be a next time? Well. Who knew, but this was technically a second outing. If they weren't careful, there might be a third. ]
no subject
[It might be delivered dryly, but he's obviously a little amused, turning around.]
Follow me. It's not too far away. And we'll see how things pan out.
[A little pause as he goes, before he speaks again.]
Do you ever like to get your hands personally dirty? Or are you always the type to let someone else do it for you?
no subject
I can't say no to someone who decapitates someone for me, it's true.
[ He says, with a put upon sigh. Truly, he is long suffering. As they walk though, he considers the question. ]
For a long time, I had people to take care of such things, and really, I don't exactly catch as much attention as someone like my second. [ To be fair... Sevika... ]
From time to time, though... [ A laugh. ] There is something satisfying about doing it yourself, hm?
no subject
[What could be more exciting than a decapitation, he wonders...ah, well.]
[The man goes on. It makes sense - what he felt back there in that "job" of his was just that - a man used to pulling the strings. His body may be fair and lacking strength, but his skills laid elsewhere.]
[He wonders how many people fell in line for him.]
There is. I've never wanted anyone to do my jobs. [...] I had an Office once. A Crew. But my jobs were my own.
no subject
[ His interest is piqued. Is this what catches a man like Silco's interest? Quite possibly. You can't blame a guy for finding shows of violence interesting, can you? (Yes)]
A whole crew? [ And yet he did the jobs himself? That's more involved in the wetworks than Silco had ever been, a knife in Vander's back notwithstanding — a marvel, even when he thinks on the thought, a memory that had once been missing — but to be so involved was...
Foolish, he supposed. Also admirable, in its own way. There was a merit to being willing to get ones hands dirty. He did in his own way, of course, but there was only so much he could do compared to Sevika or Jinx. ]
But you kept your hands in it. I suppose I understand. My work necessitated violence, but it was... only one part of it. There was a network, an entire operation, you see.
[ Vergilius already knew he owned a club (
because i just wrote it) but there had been so much more to that. Not that he thought Verg didn't realize that, after the murder of a man in the bakery. Silco had all the markings of something more than just a club owner. ] But what is it they say...? Delegation is the sign of a strong leader? Something like that.