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It'd been a process, but Albite - Waru - he'd loved every second of it. The lead up. Long conversations on rooftops, and over phones that trailed late into the night. Him constantly checking in, checking up. Every little thing he'd gotten out of her, his bossette, his friend, and he didn't care that she had no background for him to know. He didn't judge people for s**t anyways. He liked Nembus for who she was, even if that person sometimes felt like a ghost. He liked Dee, learning, growing, doing little bits of research and the bright smile she held when she got praise for it.

As if she'd been starved of anything and everything good in her life.

That thought - it broke his smile - lengthened his fangs and made him wish to earn his namesake. To bite into the nearest stupid throat of every worthless person who'd wronged her, however slightly. Seek and rend and tear out any semblance of those who'd done that to her. Bright flushing waterfall of a being, and she'd been treated poorly by his standards. Abandonment was still abuse. Aloneness begot nothing but ruin.

There was no one though - as he was so often finding the case to be. No one to hunt, no one to end, just ghosts, shadows, and hauntings of a past life that didn't exist for her. Semblances and torn threads of one that hadn't really gotten started. Then she'd gone and gotten burdened with him? He knew it, felt it, and his bossettes boss didn't know how to people any better than she did, had maybe pushed him off on her a little? So Waru wanted to reward her for it. Give her something nice for putting up with all his antics, and his endless stupid questions. Dealing with him so carefully sweet when she hadn't had to be.

He'd give her a chance to show off. Fashion. She'd mentioned it before. Only a secretary, but still, she seemed like a girl who could clean up good. She liked trying new things; she'd said as much before.

The place was expensive - high end by all standards - La Mothe Chandeniers - a reimagining of the lovely romantic styling of the 13th century castle. Waru had pulled strings, called in favors. Gotten reservations days in advanced.

He cleaned up good. Aftershave, cologne went to his Amant to be dolled up handsome. Went to Syrus for the rest, spending money and for them to drag him into something like a suit - suit adjacent. Hunter green paisley vest, dark enough that it could've been black to match the, black tie, black slacks, a jacket that he wanted to flex out of (because ******** sleeves) and shoes that shined.

He'd have preferred a rental, but they insisted. Had a whole ******** time with him. Pulling him in and pinning him up into something tame and dapper. A semblance of a groomed mutt. He cleaned up good. He'd behave, try and show Dee the kind of time she should've been getting shown by people who should've been around to care about her. That the Negaverse should've shown her - for all the resources and wherewithal they claimed to have. Hooks in the hooks of societies seams.

Waru waited, felt the evening set in, itched beneath the choke of the collar of the thing - out of excitement - to get in - play at wining and dining like grown people with money worth burning did.

"Hey Dee? Where you at."

A simple text sent in her direction. Dark brown eyes scanning the front of the establishment, looking for a shock of blue.

'I put out for it' would've been the most honest, but crude response. Saying he had friends, of friends, of dead men - one in particular - from parties that were closer to soirees held at penthouses back in the day. From a life he'd never been built to fit into, but could always have been trained at pretending to fit it.

Even the dumbest of dogs could learn how to sit pretty and heel; so long as they got a treat at the end of it.

Simply saying he knew people, that some of his friends knew people. That they were better listeners than him, got those kinds of secrets from salon dates and hanging off of up and coming lawyers arms. People smarter than him who knew how to use that sort of info to grease their way into places that demanded social graces...

Except he didn't want her curious about that either, because he had a feeling she wouldn't like the people he knew. Even the nicest of them had serrated knifes for teeth. Poisoned vipers fangs that drew blood and were easily licked clean by scalpel tongues.

Even Warus skin was only so thick against them. His ability to be blithely unaware and uncaring of so much; was an armor sometimes. One with chinks, limits, and gaping holes; but armor nonetheless. Armor he feared Dee didn't have built up quite yet.

It was far easier instead to ignore the text, eye the fish sculpture in question, wonder at how it reminded of him of a Pisces or maybe a salmon? Let his breath be stolen away by Dee. Stunning, absolutely stunning, diamond of the ocean and he wanted to parade her in front of everyone - show off -let her be the candy on his arm for once, because damn did she clean up nice.

"You're stunning..Just, absolutely stunnning. We really gotta get you someone Dee. A girl, boy, whatever?" the sigh for that, and if he'd had the world to give for her. If ever he'd met a girl who deserved it - No, a Lady, because that's what she was. How she needed to be treated. "You're gonna love this, one of my boys used a name to get us a private booth, yeah? Well, about as private as this place gets. They've got all those little meals, yanno? Like, seven to ten courses n' such, if you stay for deserts. It's a treat."

Megawatt grin on full display, and he eagerly held out his arm for her to take. He could be a gentleman, he knew how to do that, like pulling off familiar tricks, like riding a bike; even if it'd been a minute since he'd last had to do it, he knew he still could. "We're in here under D'Arnot, friends of friends and all sorts of esteemed etcetera's..." the slight eye roll for that. Curbing his tongue of the need to curse. Letting it die under the suit, drown under the soft glowing atmosphere, the wash of lilted harps and something like a lyre and flute crescendoing from deeper within the place. Mood music.

"It's gonna be so fun. You've earned this, a reward for putting up with me." emphasized it, slapped his intent on it for good measure, because she had. He knew he was a lot to put up with, a lot to put upon someone who hadn't asked. He needed her to know he appreciated it.

A wild part of him wanted to insist she had someone, needed a gaggle of someone's at her beck and call, better and smarter than him surely. The kind that could keep track with her soft smiles, would accentuate rather then detract or overwhelm. He wished he could explain to everyone he'd ever met how people needed people. How a girl or boy, the words held so many different connotations, that they weren't all ******** buddies. To stress and impress upon others that those needs could've been simple - without complexity of feelings or grandiose attachments and bedroom banter - so long as they were getting met. Made people better when they had it, made them happy.

He let it go though, wasn't here to smother her with his own ideas of peopledom. "Man, if only I'd be so lucky, yeah? You should absolutely make someone that happy!" He snickered at the notion, all warm mirth trapped in his eyes. The only other girl he'd ever considered it with would shank him for the thought, and he'd tease her with it, his girl, just to make her bare her teeth over the stupidity of needing a ring to represent the meaning they held for each other.

"Breathe Dee, I swear it to you, its all handled n' then some. This place is kinda - ah - pre-paid packaged deal? Everything was covered the moment I got the reservations set up." to lead her along like the elegant thing she was, enjoy her awe and questioning, her reservations at being dragged into the deep end of the shark tank without water wings.

Simple enough to lay his hand across her arm on his, make the picture of a couple, smirk and introduce himself to the nameless maitre d'. Stiff quiet people who handled things with lists and silent nods - the man at the front simply snapped his fingers, had some quick thing lead them back over soft carpet. Velveted reds and dark candled shadows, easy polite conversations that floated like whispers caught amongst the musical accompaniment. Gold trim and rustic murals depicting ancient battles that likely belonged in a museum rather than a dining hall.

"Sit yeah? Then you can ask all the questions ya want. I swear I'll explain it all - " pressing the whisper just above her wound braids, looking for all the world like someone sharing sweet nothings rather than secrets - let her sit first as was proper; before tucking himself in alongside her.

His eyes never leaving the polite little server, holding his tongue until he left.

It was remembering little things as they sat. Tiny rules that had once been muscle memory. Basic etiquette about keeping elbows off the tables, removing the neatly folded napkin along the dining set and smoothing it out across his lap with over large fingers. Letting his grin smolder along with his gaze at Dee’s excited questioning.

He wanted to tell her she was well adjusted enough, that if Waru could be a hot mess and get people then anyone could. To express that as movie magical the place was - he’d never return to the types of scenes that gave him access to it on the regular.

Her brief slip of the tongue into cursing made him thrill, made him consider dragging her to a bar next time.

Then he was spilling - “So, one? I’m like - living sightly better than most church mice? Straight up slumming it really - by choice mind you- not ‘cause I’ve got money to pave my way, but like, cause I could be with people who do?” Could, had, would not again. Not ever. Being a kept boy had its limitations - phenomenal cosmic powers with itty bitty living spaces. Dealing with the kind of men and women who looked at him like a choice cut. All fun and games until the knives came out. Of course he’d been stupid and young then. Wanted easement of circumstances, fun and someone else’s money to have that fun with. It’d seemed right and fair to not have to work for any of it. Nothing to lose in that sort of game except for himself.

“D’arnot? Is a judge. I’m just using his good name to get in, because his wife has a prenup. A really damned good one. I know because my amant - that’s ‘lover’- does his wife’s dogs nails. These little French Pom things - and she goes on about it. Which really came in handy when my boy Syrus caught the good judge with this stunning little paralegal up under his robes.”

The sharp grin for that, all the pleasure as Syrus had described the man and his actions. Normally Waru didn’t care about other peoples indiscretions or infidelities. As he’d gone on describing the guy though, his mannerisms, the familiar little something of recognition had clicked in his mind. Made him ask what the guy looked like, if he’d be easy prey to get something nice out of. Remembered the wife’s name and thought about what well deserved retribution it would’ve been for the judges jilted wife. What a boon for them if they made it into something more.

“Men like that, of a certain age? I only ever see ‘em at the kinds of pent house parties I used to go to when the sugars dusting their arms are of the baby variety. I knew the face, if not the name - knew where to catch the two at it - get a nice set of visual aids going - took all that plus what my amant had detail wise? Passed it to Sy.”

He’d gotten Aramis on the line, and they’d all gotten to talking about what they wanted out of the deal, how best to get it. How it’d be good if Aramis let things slip to the wife, casually, about clients he’d had and lovely blonds that seemed to mention the judge fondly while getting their nails and hair done by him. Lies, but women with prenups and money were always quick to snatch those threads up. How Syrus would ever so casually let slip knowledge of pictures from a recent party - ask if the judges been there - scroll through a set and ‘oops’ - there he was and what would he be willing do to make it disappear? What was a deleted photograph worth to someone with a reputation like his?

“It’s all technically black mail - except that when wife comes looking for a blond bombshell? She’ll find a reassuring young blond man who’ll swear up and down that the judge is simply being a good citizen. Devoting time to a promising up and coming pre-law student. The judge will be eternally grateful to Syrus for keeping his secrets - that gets him an inroad.”

A pause for a moment - as a soft bell chimed - as waiters came around with chilled glasses of ice-water. Crystalline pitchers left at the tables - followed by small saucers that contained the appetizer. A chilled dish to start. A small ladle full of frothed colored cream, nearly like bisque, only it appeared brighter, vibrantly soft greens and orange herbs with a sliced clear vegetable as a garnish.

Silent service that bowed out once all the accoutrements had been placed. It took Waru a moment to remember what a soup spoon looked like, to wait to finish talking before tasting.

“I get free dinner for the pictures, my ‘amant’ gets access to more women who tip well in that zip code. Cause all wives want in home services that listen well. Especially ones who might have gossip about their husbands….”

Everybody got something they wanted, it was perfect.

Seiana_ZI

“I mean, it was kinda like indirect blackmailing? Like, uh, side hustling my way in on something that someone else shoulda really obviously used as blackmail.” He’d an opportunity and run with it, made the most profitable choice, and it wasn’t like the guy was a good person. No great evil, but still - a nice easy gray line to skirt through and enjoy twisting into use for himself and the others.

The question mark that became his expression, because he didn’t know Delilahs life enough to say if that were true or not. Cared only about the facets of her stories that seemed to make her unhappy. The rest was negligible, unimportant, far to much for him to pay attention to.

“That your lacking for….No. There’s nothing about you that ‘lacks’ Dee.” Not a damned thing, not of herself especially. Even her emptiness was filling, heavy and consuming in all sorts of ways.

“I picked you, because you told me you liked to try new things? This seemed like a you kinda thing? Like, it’s something you should have, maybe.….” It’d been the easiest choice he’d ever made. Any one of them could’ve looked good in a dress, or a suit. Could’ve come in and played the roll of posh pretty thing and Waru would’ve been dumb meat on their arm. A different type of eye candy.

Delilah though?

“You deserve this…to make nice memories. Plus I figured that outta everyone? It’d be the most fun to take you out.” his words sheepish almost at the end; trailed and brushed unsureness. A bit of the bravado lost, but he was hopeful that she’d understand.

She was his friend too.

He didn’t play favorites, didn’t choose one or the other over for typical reasons. It was all situational to him. The situation he found himself graced with simply called for her.

“You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried.” Blunt honesty, pleased as punch and glowing with the idea that Dee was happy - that he’d given her something nice. An experience was always better than an object in his opinion.

Objects could be lost or broken or sold, had too much weight to them, and what was the emotional with of a gift if someone lacked the emotions with which to attach to it?

No, better to give her something like this. Bask in the afterglow of her enjoyment, because that was more than enough for him. Meant more than any small trinket and whatever expression she would’ve given him if he’d gone that route instead. One in a lifetime event and food that cost as much as a months rent?

Perfection.

Waru sipped daintily at the chilled bisque, enjoyed the flavors theirim, easy little spoonfuls that melted and were soon gone. Endeavored to take Dee around the room once after. Get little snapshots of all the interesting arts and architecture involved in the place to its fullest - gawk at the musicians alike the tourist he was.

“You told me - you did the secretary thing…Did you ever get to design stuff? Did you want to?” Licked his lips and asked about her brief stint in Fashion. She’d mentioned it from a background perspective a pause into stepping up. She was always taking things in, wide inquisitive eyes, Waru couldn’t help but notice it. The way she researched everything, went at it like a task to be surmounted and conquered.

He wanted to come up with things for her to do - maybe she could be a critique - someone who could have the kind of influence that would get her the invites she deserved. Maybe find someone who would drag her into places where she could hone her interests, narrow hem down to fine points instead of broad strokes.

The Plan - always someone else's design - Waru suppressed a soft frown for that. Hid it behind his own drinking glass with a soft humm of interest. Maybe whoever had planned things out for 'Delilah'- for 'Nembus'- had some insight on whoever she was before? On what she might've been good at in the past that they'd suggested it at all. He'd never met her superiors, knew they weren't close enough to meet each others friends yet, maybe? It was sheer serendipity that they shared any common connections now and really it was just that he'd gotten lucky with his timing on hunting Fuastite down; demanded things of the man relentlessly.

"I can tell you'd have an eye for it, I mean, you picked all this out on your own yeah?" let his eyes rove, catch over her well done hair, her beautiful attire. Internally preened over having such a lovely date to take along.The way everything on her matched and accentuated properly. The knowledge that she'd probably done it all based on her own meticulous research alone. Probably on a strict budget too. "Like the whole - ah - ensemble. Doing that? It takes talent. I say that as someone who wasn't allowed to dress themselves for this thing." played with the slowly collecting condensation beading over his glass briefly as he listened.

"S'allright Dee, jobs're hard, having nerves for 'em. Especially if it wasn't something you choose on your own to start with?" A dismissive shrug because he understood to an extent, didn't think he'd ever have that same sort of courage. To be thrown into something like that and try to thrive without a past to lean on. "Wait...you got a degree? Cool! What's it in? Was it hard? Were you like...a valedictorian or something, you totally would be, yeah?" Avid curiosity suddenly, because higher education had never been for him.

He'd never had such lofty aspirations, had instead briefly considered going to DCU just in the interest of taking out loans to live on, and to get access to that flourishing college dorm frat life he'd heard so much about. Summarily talked himself out of it once he realized what getting into school without an actual goal might've done to him.

The dedication it would've taken.

Big people using small words to explain things to him. Like how recklessness with financing 'ruined peoples credit' and how 'No, actually he couldn't sleep his way into a degree'. His major had to be an actual profession.

“You’re good Dee - and you’re welcome. S’impressive as heck.” Awe and banked praise, assurance across his glowing pleased features that Delilah wasn’t babbling. He would’ve known. He was the current holder of the champion belt labeled ‘babbling’.

He couldn’t help but be impressed, he never would’ve made it work. Figuring things out on his own the way she seemed to seamlessly, without any aid. All has successes relied on will, stubbornness, and the kindness of others to some degree. He lacked the wherewithal to put things together with any elegance that he didn’t already have the means for. Wouldn’t have managed half of what she had on the same budget.

Girl poppin tags and if she’d had a blog she woulda been hella popular. He could see it. Shy thrifty thing. Bachelor of Communications - impressive even if she’d had a leg up on it.

“I don’t have a single clue” chagrined as he truly had not the foggiest idea. Someone had mentioned it before, he was sure. Using a connection or two within the organizations boundless resources to secure himself with something. A position, a place, stability, and if everything that lived within him hadn’t roiled and frothed at the ominous ******** thought of being kept.

Never again.

“You deserve it, like, I couldn’ta done anything like that. Wouldn’t have. Even if I’d had the help.“ shaking his head at very the idea. There were just some things he naturally balked at.

Cocked his head at the sound of another small chime. Something looked little dishes of cypress and watercress salads added to the growing array on the table. They looked like bowls of tiny gardens, purple and white floral images topped with a clear drizzle of dressing.

“So, Auro was my boss originally, yeah? Gone now, but maybe he coulda been a good guy to be under? I’m sure he had big plans for me. Probably woulda been bigger if they hadn’t involved any feline attendants.” And he’d liked the idea of the tournaments, of being useful that way. Despite the falling out - which was really more like him creating distance to get his own personal life in order.

Taking the granted power and literally running with it. So long as he did the bare requirements, and that sort of grunt work had come easily, had the least responsibility attached to it.

“Our uh, heh, current boss? He’s been real good about not pushing that sorta stuff on me. He’s been a good choice so far, for what I want outta the ‘job’” Waru would’ve bolted the second he’d tried. Had made it clear, crystalline, that he was happy to be theirs - his - and his teams - in all sorts of ways.

Would give everything right up until the very second it started crossing his own well entrenched lines of self.