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~The purple velvet sky is inturupted by the indecicive flickering of street lights and traffic lights. TV commercials and radio music disturbs the silence. A disgruntled looking individual walks down the dank streets towards the bussiest night club in the southwest side, corner of 23rd and West Street. He wears an old lamb skin jacket, red t-shirt with a mustard stain over his left peck, and beaten/fades blue jeans, along with a pair of timberland boots. He walks up to the door man after cutting infront of the entire line~

...

~He gets stopped by the door man, but the individual is slick and pulls out his $100 from his pocket, palming it to the man with his left hand and patting his back with his right~

Hey bro.

"S'up Dog."

~He walks in, past the velvet rope, into the night club. The doors open and a wall of sonic thunder crashes through the skull of the new club hopper. He looks around with weary eyes, half drunken from cheap booze, catching sights of multi-colored strobe and spot lights. Images flash and move along the dancing crowds and tables from the projectors. The bass pulses and thrubs inside his head, the smell of smoke and liquor wofts through the stail atmosphere, mixing with perfumes and sweat from cheap sex and easy nights. It was a paradise for the wrong kind of people.... The wrong kind of people if they weren't the right ones to find. The individual spots the one person he's after. A well dressed male in a black satin suit, blue lensed glasses, spikey black hair, and a cane. He stands on the balcony with both hands on his cane, overseeing the club. Obviously the owner, he liked to watch what he's built grow. A cocktail waitress approached him with a single whine glass on a tray, her skirt was the first thing to catch both thier attention~

Bingo...

~The individual cuts through the crowd like a tiger shark through the sea, making his way to his target. He just spent his last $100 to get in here, now he had to find a way to change $100 to an easy living doing what he likes to do best. Two bouncers stop him at the front of the stair well~

"Whoa... Hold up buddy, you can't go this way. Not like that anyway..."

... I'm looking for The Cobalt Eyes.

"Yeah, so's just about ever mook and minzy in this joint. Get lost."

~The individual steps back, not being to aggressive, he remebers his last $100. He slips into the crowd and looks for an opening... A way to the top. A spots two vixens dancing and smiles~

Excuse me ladies.

~The girls look at one another and then ignore the man, then he says one sentance~

Do you girls want to meet Blue Eyes?

~They both stop and step up to the man, smiling and batting thier eyes. He smiles and walks to the edge of the crowd with them and has them walk up to the bouncers. They flirt and pout, flaunt thier womanly whiles, holding the attention of the bouncers while the man slips behind them to the steps. Hes now about ten steps away from Cobalt Eyes~

~The man sniffs his shirt and shrugs~

Seems like Ms. Fortune and I had a lovers' spat. But lets not talk about what I look like now, lets talk business.

~The man smiles slyly~

I'm looking for a job, and you owe me.

~As Daven walks away, the man reached into his jacket and pulled out the a file containing a large bundle of papers~

I figured you'd say something like that... That's why I dragged this along...

~He waved the files~

In here is the information, and all the information, needed to bring your little empire crumbling to the ground. Everything from club money to drug money. And I do mean everything...

~He looks around and smiles to Daven~

And before you can call a bullet to my head, think about this... These are just copies. Before I came here I left all the originals with someone I trust at the station. So if I'm not back home, your case is open and you're behind bars before you know it. For life. So, want to listen to the man who can save your freedom now?

~This whole time, the man's voice was casual, not drawing any attention to them, but at the same time making it's point~

~A cocky smirk streaks across the mans face, he tucks the file away inside his jacket and walks after Daven~

Still the same cocky b*****d as before.

~He slides his right hand back, behind his back and under his jacket, clutching the handle to his pistol. Just in case~

Hey, Cobalt, don't for get your drink.

~The man reached to the wine glass and picked it up, carrying it with him as he followed Cobalt to his office. They cut through the crowded club and to the dors~

~Nodding his head, the man walks inside, hands lowering into his pockets in a nonthreatening manner. He surveys the room as he steps through the thresh hold, seeing no other dangers~

So... Cobalt, when are we going to talk business?

~He walks to the desk and leans against it, never taking his eyes off Daven~

-Daven closes the door behind him and takes a seat behind his desk-

First of all...get off my desk, secondly if I were to give you a job, what pray you tell can you offer me?

-Daven then opens up a book and begins to do his logs. A few moments pass by-

Well? I'm waiting....