A Night You Won't Remember

The Job:

It was no surprise to Arsene when he was requested back again by Richmond LTD. Not only had he done, at least in his own opinion, a very thorough and professional job on their first request, but logical deduction already said there would be a second part to this job. After all, getting out of the settlement was great, but that was simply a medication to treat the symptoms, not to cure the disease inside the business. Somewhere, hidden in anonymity, was a mole. It was honestly pretty incredible when you think about it; one singular worker almost cost the company more than they make in several weeks, through one simple discussion. Such a strange level of power that anyone could feel; it was no surprise to the Troubadour that someone would do it. Hell, Arsene wasn't even one to judge. He was an information dealer; he made his living buying and selling secrets. Selling out one employer to another was nothing to him. Unfortunately though, his job wasn't to sympathize with them, but to catch them.

Finding a mole was a tremendous effort; after all, it could be literally anyone inside the company. Any single person who saw the plans, talked to a co-worker about it, or even just spread an office rumor. It was the definition of finding a needle in a haystack. Unfortunately for them though, Arsene had done his homework. Making his trip into J&G was not only to get the dirt needed to shut them up, but he also took the time to find their sources. As the trusted account of Elliot Gold himself, a short stop by his office to find a few missing budget papers wasn't even thought about, and provided ample time to check for letters or other forms of communication. Honestly, it was beyond Arsene why anyone looking to sell out their boss would keep a paper trail, but for Gold it make perfect sense to save it. After all, now that they'd made one deal, Gold could leverage that letter as a threat at any moment; 'Give me the information I want, or your boss might happen upon this little letter you left me'.

Arsene couldn't resist shaking his head at the shoddy work. It seemed so few people truly understood the nature of their jobs, and how careful you have to be when dealing with the devil. Maybe it was just experience warping his view, but he really liked to believe he wasn't that bad when he started out. At least, he desperately hoped not. No one seemed to know about his old work, which did help. No one, except Hidden Blades that was. Like the phantom pain of an old wound, Arsene felt his heart tighten as he remembered that. The only mark on his record; the scar that shamed him. Having joined the organization, he could see why they had access to that info, and it would be ridiculous for anyone to expect to be off their records, especially with the resources he had available back then. His pride was above such easy logic though, and bruised easily. A quick slap to each cheek pushed him out of his stupor, and Troubadour got up. He had work to do.


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They were on the third last call of the night, and the part was still going lively. Just as it had the year before that, and the year before that. After all, having suffered through the authoritarian regime that Richmond held it's works too for another full year, they needed a night out to get away from it. The retreat was a tradition at this point; once a year, during the company mandated holiday, all of the button pushers and pencils sharpeners at Richmond LTD got together and took a trip, away from the upper management and their office politics. A week of relaxation with enough partying to help them survive the next year. So, at 3am with a bar both desperate to close and trying to milk the ravaging partygoers for as many drinks as possible, it was no surprise it was still so lively. Tables were loaded with rowdy conversations, couples forming and dancing across the room, and the few quiet drinkers chugging away at the bar.

That was the group that both Mitchell and Daniel found themselves in. Having already danced as much as they could, and running low on steam, they huddled together at the bar, supporting their staggering forms as they tried to intake as much alcohol as possible before collapsing. Mitchell was gagging here and there, trying his best to ignore all the warning signs his body was giving him, but finally had to relent and take a quick trip to the john. Daniel waited for his return, hoping that the man could handle himself, and resolving to go pick him up if he wasn't out within a few minutes, acting as if he was able to handle himself any better at the moment. The liquor was good in Lavanitir, and was a great way to forget the last few months struggle and party hard.

Mitchell eventually staggered back, looking slightly better after letting whatever wanted out, out. He wrapped an arm around Daniel, the huge grin overtaking his face as they laughed together. They'd been friends since childhood, inseparable no matter how tough it got. They even ended up at the same company, and remained close as life tried it's hardest to drag them apart. Daniel looked down at his drink, smiling forlornly and wondering what he did to deserve a good friend. Mitchell, catching the look and understanding it's meaning despite his massive inebriation, hooked his arm under Daniel's shoulder and pulled him from his seat without warning, leaving the surprised and shook Daniel to struggle to keep his innards inside for a moment. "Alright, looks like it's time we get yah home," Mitchell struggled out with a long slur, "I recokon' if we don't you'll kill this party with that mood that's taking over yah." Giving Daniel no chance to resist, he started dragging the man outside, both of the drunk patrons struggling to keep each other standing.

As they exited the building, Mitchell paused a moment, staring Daniel in his eyes. "Danny, are yah ok? I know things were rough, do yah need to talk?" Daniel stared back at Mitchell, struggling to find an answer, before averting his gaze. "I-I'm fine Mitch, honest to goodness. I'm just tired." Mitchel couldn't accept that answer, and started turning towards the port, the rapid motion mixing up Daniel's lack of balance and sending him toppling down for a moment, losing all sense of direction. Mitch pulled him back up. "Alright, that does it. We're gonna have a talk, an open and honest talk, you need it." Knowing that Mitchell would never accept resistance at this point, Daniel followed in quite resignment.

The pair walked to the pier, staring out at the beautiful ocean before them. They parked themselves on a bench, struggling to even sit up right now. Still, the view was so serene and quiet, it seemed to set the tone for them. With a heavy sigh, Mitchell looked at Daniel. "Danny, what happened? I know you were strugglin' with your ma's hospital bills, but you never told me how yah met them." Daniel looked away, still afraid to say it. The guild was killing him, eating away at the inside as he thought about the mess he'd thrown himself in. Mitchell was his best friend, they'd known each other since they could walk. He could be trusted, right? "Well, maybe it's the alcohol loosing my lips, but I'll tell yah. I.... I know Elliot Gold. He's an old friend of my uncle, they play poker together. So, when he heard about my mom, he offered to help. He said he'd cover the bills, as a gift to a family friend. All I had to do was.... was let him know if anything happened. He had wind Richmond was up to something, and he just wanted me to let him know they were on the up and up. I was desperate, and it seemed like a fair deal, right? What Richmond was doing, working off stolen designs, was wrong. So I was doing a just thing, wasn't I? I thought he was a good man, and I was helping him out. But then, but then I gave him the proof, and suddenly he changed. He started asking for more from me, threatening to cut off my mom, or expose me to Richmond, if I didn't give him more info. I... I can't keep this up Mitchell. I can't keep living like this. The stress, it's killing me. What do I do?"

Daniel starred into the eyes of his oldest friend, seeking some sort of sage advice or wisdom. Mitchell seemed to be processing it all, before standing up and sighing. He moved behind Daniel, seeming to stare out into the ocean with him as he thought. "Well Danny, I'm afraid that isn't my job." Suddenly, Daniel felt handcuffs lock around his wrists, trapping him into the bench. Surprised, he attempted to turn back and look at Mitchell, before the world around him shattered. Like broken glass, the ocean around him vanished, replaced with an empty, dirty warehouse. A sole camera sat before him, recording everything that transpired there. "Wh-What?! What's happening?!" Both anger and fear took over Daniel, watching what he thought was his closest friend suddenly shatter as well, leaving behind an imposing figure of black armor.

"Unfortunately Daniel, your friend Mitchell is currently blacked out in the bathroom. He'll wake up tomorrow with no idea what happened last night, but that was his own doing. You, however, probably won't wake up tomorrow, and that too is your own doing." This was quite the simple job really. All it took for Arsene was waiting in a bathroom stall, looking to catch Mitchell and knock him out. Luckily, the alcohol had saved him time and did it for him. After that, one quick look in Daniel's eyes, and he Set the Stage to cover their walk, hiding their direction with clever illusions. It was easy to lead a drunk man around; they so rarely paid attention to minor details, like the sound and smell of what was around them. As well, with a quick spin to drop him and disorient him, Daniel had no sense of direction to notice the changed path.

Ignoring Daniel's desperate pleas, Arsene motioned towards the door. "Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do to help you. You did this to yourself, and I'm simply the janitor hired to clean up your mess. Even if I didn't do this, they'd find someone else who would. I just decided I wanted the paycheck for it. It was nice to meet you Daniel, and I wish the best for your mother." With that, Arsene donned a new costume, his skin rippling and replacing the armor with a well tailed suit and a blonde head of hair. Moving outside, he found the door surrounded by several similarly dressed men. He smiled, gave his greetings and collected his payment, before leaving just as quickly. After all, he was an artist above such macabre displays, and honestly felt like a drink after smelling so much himself.

WC: 1899
Spells Cast: Set the Stage
MP: 377.5