assassin_daddy | Duplicity Inbox

The Eagle is open to all, LIERS and natives, submissives and dominants. But the nature of what is discussed within these walls makes SIN Guards an unwelcome sight. Thankfully she's only a trainee, and not in uniform, so knowledge of her new affiliation isn't widely known, yet. When it is, Jacob may have to ask her not to come to his legitimate businesses, at least by the front entrance.

Jacob is easy to spot- he's still favouring those old-fashioned style clothes, the dark embroidered waistcoat over a white shirt. He still wears the same sort of trousers, the same big boots. Even if she wasn't familiar with his face, with his eyepatch, if someone asked you to point out the Victorian in the room, you could do it.

He nods a greeting to her, and reaches for a bottle kept under the bar. There's a little nook, just off to one side, closed off by panels that go from floor to ceiling, which make it a little room, private to the rest of the bar. He leads her in there, closing the door behind them.

"Thought it better to talk here," He says, sitting down on the bench seat on one side of the table, letting her sit opposite him on the other, or sit next to him if she likes. "Three months goes by quickly, doesn't it?"

It's honestly one of the things she's concerned about today, really; regardless of what her loyalties actually are, she's going to have to take some hits once she's actually wearing the uniform, especially if she ever wants to get in deep enough to ever do any good. People she cares about may not trust her anymore, or may not be able to associate with her for exactly the reason she'd never come here in uniform.

One of those hits may be this contract, so she sits across from him, glancing around the smaller space with a gaze that misses little before returning to him and doing the same.

"Does that go along with that whole time flies, having fun thing?" she answers back, setting the folder between them on the table; a copy of their contract, and the letter of notice about the renewal deadline. "But yeah. It did."

He offers her a smile and a nod- that was certainly what he'd meant. They've made a good team, he thinks. She's come to the Hollow and worked on it just as hard as if it were her own home, she's comforted him when he needed it, and given him a kick in the arse when he needed it too. He doesn't know if he's had as much of an impact on her, but the fact she's here and discussing this means that, as tight lipped as she can be, things have been agreeable for her too.

He sets down the booze on the table, and the two glasses, and pours a finger each. Negotiations of all sorts do better with lubrication after all.

"I think we were a good pair. I think we could continue to be, if you're interested." He says, putting his thoughts out in the open. "But I think we may need to think carefully about the future, and the factors influencing us both."

He looks at her then, not saying the words, but they both know what the elephant in the room is.

"The people who come here, who come to the Arena, the don't like the authorities. I can't guarantee they'll be pleased to see you."

The thing is, as tight lipped as she can be, she's already decided she doesn't like this part of it - this uncertainty that she realizes she's probably going to feel every three months or so as long as they're paired up. She hasn't forgotten that this arrangement serves a specific purpose in this case in particular, and she has no idea how much progress Jacob and Vrenille have managed to make - and if wanting to contract together again might happen as abruptly as breaking apart had. And then there's the matter, much simpler, that Jacob almost brings up.

She smiles and picks up one of the glasses, though she doesn't drink it yet. She's still used to liquor being an extremely rare luxury, and she thinks for a moment she should save it for celebrating - that, or go the other way and slam it back and ask for more. She doesn't, but she does consider it.

"I don't want you to try," she assures him, because she's never been stupid. Her dark eyes do level on him though. "You think they'll be pleased with you, associating with the likes of me?"

There isn't room in the snug for two elephants in the room, but if there were, his relationship with Vrenille would be it. They're talking, even friendly, but it is t what it was. He's come to the realisation it may never be, but he's not spoken those words out loud. He's not about to here, either. It's not the right place for it.

Jacob, for his sins, does take a drink. He doesn't drink nuch when he works- he shouldn't drink at all but that's easier said than done. But he doesn't drain it, just sips it and let's the burn warm him through as he considers the answer to her question.

"I can make it work in my favour. I have an in with the SIN Guards, a useful contact. That's very helpful in my... lines of business." He leaves some things unsaid. Again, it's best not to say things too plainly, even here. "Besides, they all think you're head over heels for me. I've not dissuaded anyone of that notion."

He knows she isn't, but some of the patrons that have seen her come by like to laugh about what she needs from him to come all the way down here. Let then think that, if it keeps them from getting in her way.

Both eyebrows go up when she hears that, because Rosita is clever enough to keep her mouth shut when it's prudent, she can sway people one way or another when she really wants to sometimes, but she'd much rather be direct and she hates letting rumors about herself fly. Especially those.

It's not funny, but she sees the sense in not spreading too much of their business so she won't demand it change. It does rankle just enough though that she doesn't stop herself from asking, "And does that make you the big dick playboy then?"

"It certainly doesn't."

He can tell that she doesn't like it even before her eyebrows rise up to the ceiling, and truthfully, he doesn't like it much either. But people everywhere- here, home, in the millions of other universes and worlds there might well be, seem to make these assumptions about a man and a woman who talk to each other.

"I'm sorry. I should have had the presence of mind to deflect it." He says, and he does mean that. He doesn't want to swagger and posture around like people are falling over themselves to sleep with him. "But if they think you're here for that, they don't think you're here on SIN Guard business, trying to investigate them and their business, or that I'm selling them out."

He doesn't want either of them to face an angry gang of criminals.

She doesn't want that either, which is why she won't do anything to change it. But she's not so great at subversion that she can just not feel any kind of way about it, especially when it's more or less just the two of them.

"Why can't it be that you ask me to come by because you're head over heels for me?" she poses instead, although it's rhetorical. She knows. As the dealer between them he can't be asking her for anything, she supposes. But she's been in too many of these conversations throughout her life - she's been the side slut too often - to ignore it altogether.

"Jacob, it's fine. I just won't come here anymore and it'll solve it. But the contract can't go away so easily if someone decides to try and go after you."

Now that suggestion makes him smile, but it's not the wide grin of a good joke. It's something tinged with something deeper than that.

"Rosita, if you heard a rumour that I was in love with you, you'd run a mile."

Besides, if people thought he was so utterly besotted, they might think he'd be all the more willing to sell them out. And that puts them both in a dangerous position.

Her solution is the better one, and he nods to consent.

"I think that's best. For both of us- your superiors aren't going to like you coming down here, the Rubies won't want SIN guards on their patch, and no one here starts getting suspicious. But I still want a contract with you, if you'll have me."

She has no idea, really, what to do with the odd expression he pulls first; her brow furrows and she points out, "I do know the difference between a rumor and the truth," but there's still... something there.

Maybe it doesn't matter. There's only the one solution regardless, and the one major decision to make with that resolved.

"Yeah," she says, clipped. Obviously, all of that. She reaches down and taps the folder with her finger. "Any changes?"

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