Two spies on a park bench (Closed)

[ukase]

Who: Brock Rumlow (ukase) & Byerly Vorrutyer (vorrutyer)
What: Two perfectly normal gents meeting on a park bench to people watch, drink alcohol, and gossip.
When: The evening after this thread occurred.
Where: Park bench. In a park. Per the map.
Warning(s): Probably language. Will add as necessary


[Rumlow had been amused that they had agreed on friendship over discussion of orgies, then moved to attempting a dinner date somewhere and finally settled on drinking on a public park bench. That seemed to be his stride, and he recognized that this was one of those situations that would either allow them a better assessment of each other and keep the 'friendship', or they would likely hate one another for life. That's how most of his relationships went anyway. He was either liked and respected or he was loathed.

His opponents generally didn't survive long. He'd hate to have to go that far with his first friend of new beginnings.

He had come to the park bench earlier than the set upon time, performing some general recon on the area, the escape routes, the general population that came around here, and noting all the points where he could have his head blown off. There were many of the last point, but that was the risk with public meetings. He didn't consider himself well-known or infamous enough to earn a hit so soon.

He stepped up to the bench at ten minutes to seven and settled himself upon it, armed with a sidearm on his hip and a knife hidden on his calf. He might not be expecting trouble, but he was always prepared for it; he was from a country where openly carrying a sidearm was allowed in the law, and he saw no reason to change that here and now.

He slung an arm along the back of the bench and watched people as they did their evening walks. All chatty, all hands gesturing, all with weird manner of pets in tow. He set one ankle on his opposite knee and looked perfectly comfortable, like he belonged there. He also had a bottle of his own alcohol of choice, since friends shared. The bottle was sealed; he hadn't looked into the laws of public alcohol consumption.]

Comments

[ukase]

I definitely am curious, but it's up to you what you decide to share, if at all. Let's me gauge what kinds of things we might do in our friendship.

[He grinned broadly and swept a hand through his hair, looking casual but as curious as his tone was.]

[vorrutyer]

Well, you're a prude, so we can't fuck. And obviously drinking is already happening. Have you ever been arrested?

[ukase]

[Rumlow snorted at being called a prude but decided it wasn't worth challenging.]

Yes, I have. You?

[vorrutyer]

More times than I can count. But the charges never really stuck. What about for you? Ever do a stint in prison?

[ukase]

[He rolled his eyes.]

Good lawyer or set the evidence to point at someone else eventually? And yeah, I landed in prison a few times, though it was juvenile prison. Where I'm from, your age makes a difference on how deep they throw you.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, neither. Sheer Vorish privilege. Plus the skill of my tongue.

[ He leers suggestively. Though - good god. Framing someone? Byerly is clever, but he wouldn't have had the skill to do that in the days when he was getting arrested. (And, admittedly, his honor wouldn't allow it.) ]

But ah, now my head is filled with such images. You as a daring youthful bandit. Knocking over old people, snatching their jewels...

[ukase]

Ah, so you're a rich bastard who is above the law, huh? That fits I guess.

[There was a time when he hated people like that, people who could afford to defend themselves, who had the rules bent for them. Familial privilege. He had thankfully grown out of that angry teenage idea.

As for framing someone, he had done that. Many times.]

Knocking over old people is an assault charge. Stealing from them takes real skill so they don't notice right away.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, on the contrary. I grew up as penniless as you, my young brigand. But even for a poor lad like myself, the Vorrutyer name earns someone a certain something. [ And - ] So you prize subtlety, then? I'm surprised - I'd have thought that a fellow with a physique like yours would prefer strength to skill.

[ukase]

I wouldn't know what's that like. I had to make a name for myself, but I also wasn't exactly penniless. [He snorted and folded his hands behind his head, tapping a heel on the ground.]

When you're me, you have both skill and strength. I know the value of both and when to use them.

[vorrutyer]

[ Mockingly: ]

And modesty.

[ukase]

Modesty is for schmucks that don't know their value, or want to downplay it for ass patting from those around them.

[He really had no shame. He'd done and seen way too much for that.]

[vorrutyer]

Or who are close observers of certain aspects of the social contract.

[ukase]

Are you one of those people?

[vorrutyer]

[ Delighted at the opening: ]

Oh, very much so. I'm handsome as Ivan Tsarevich, clever as Reynard the Fox, and more charming than the first springtime dandelion - but you'll certainly never hear me talking about it.

[ukase]

[Well, well, wasn't that all just charming?]

Where I'm from, dandelions are weeds. At least you know what you're about, which means I likely will enjoy your company in future.

[vorrutyer]

Not so fond of people who observe politeness, eh?

[ukase]

From my experience, those who do are more likely to want you dead and plot to do so.

[Okay, a lot of his experience had come from the internal affairs of an organization that weeded out the 'weak' quickly and brutally.]

[vorrutyer]

So cynical. [ By tilts his head to the side. ] You know, some of us are just ordinary people with ordinary desires. No murder lurking in our hearts. I can't even kill a cockroach without swooning. Did your coworkers plot murder?

[ukase]

[Look, don't be judgmental, street rat. He'd purposefully lived a rough life, had been forced to see much of the worst side of humanity. He might have even thrived in it.

Order in pain, after all.]

Some, yeah, but there are a vast majority that want more than their slice of pie. Oh man, did they ever!

[vorrutyer]

[ Laughing - ]

All right, I want to hear the most dire murder plot. Come on.

[ukase]

[Well, okay, just because he was warm on alcohol, though not drunk. Besides, it didn't even have to be particularly believable.]

Off the top of my head, they thought that capturing a duke wasn't enough, and they were of the opinion that the honor guard should be made to turn on each other, make it all seem like it was an inside job and no one left alive to say otherwise. They had it planned to the minute, but then higher ups vetoed it and the team just stole the duke away without anyone noticing for some hours.

[vorrutyer]

[ By's lips purse, and his eyebrows raise in apparent admiration. Inwardly, there's a bite of sharp disapproval - inevitable, of course, from a man whose life is dedicated to preventing plots precisely like that against the Emperor and his Counts. But - well. That's something to keep hidden. ]

Good heavens. How dramatic. It sounds like something straight out of a holo-drama.

[ukase]

[Rumlow simply shrugged, like the story was not particular big deal. The truth was that they dealt with those kinds of international missions occasionally. Most of their work was protecting US soil against international incidents, and if the plots were foiled, no one actually knew about them. All in the name of secretive intelligence.]

You gonna regal me with a story with such high stakes too? All this give and take, after all.

[vorrutyer]

[ With a laugh - ]

What, hoping for some revelations about how I plotted against my cousin the Count? - Well, actually, there was an instance where I did, truthfully. And ended up arrested. Dreadful thing.

[ And then he gives a rueful little smile, and a shake of his head, like he's going to stop there. ]

[ukase]

Well, I wouldn't say no to details about it. Did he deserve what you had plotted against him?

[He was always curious how family turned against each other. Of course, there were some bad apples in every tree, but he likely was the bad one of his.]