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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 3:49:51 GMT -5
Somehow, Gale wasn't surprised that the food was good. It was a relief, too, that Al didn't mind the plates - it was a little embarrassing, truth be told. While he had normal cups and glasses alongside his novelty ones, he did not, in fact, have any normal plates. Maybe he needed to invest in that one day, but he also didn't want to.
"You don't even know if I'm any good at what I do," he laughed quietly. Him? An asset? Nah. He did, however, drop the subject and instead ate his food. It had been a while since he had had anything proper like this. Hell, he wasn't sure if he'd eaten 'real food' for the past few years. He had takeout and junk food and didn't eat much besides, and yet today he'd eaten breakfast and dinner. It was strange. Like being a real person. Wild.
He had to admit, the question caught him off-guard. He didn't really...think about places he went to, never went to places of interest. Piraeus was just a place where he lived, nowadays, and being asked about places to stop off in Greece was a little wide-ranged, though he supposed he'd been around.
"Honestly? I don't know," his smile was vaguely sheepish, "not gonna lie, I've never had a chance to explore or pay much attention to places. There's a cool cafe not far from here, and there's some historical monuments around that are super cool, but..." he trailed off, shrugged. "I got nothing. Sorry."
If he was being honest with himself, he felt bad for being unable to recommend any places. Gale just didn't visit places, preferred to stay home or go to clubs (which he decided he didn't particularly want Al to go to), or he just...did his jobs. He was more familiar with the rooftops of Piraeus and other cities in Greece than he was anything else, which probably wasn't very useful, when he reflected on it. Great for him when he was on a job or something, but not so great for going oh yeah, that's a good place to go to. He frowned a little and focused on his food.
The rest of the night, as expected, was uneventful. He watched Alphonse's card tricks (and found that while he memorised it all, he couldn't actually do it), and then he played his video games until some ungodly hour. He fell asleep on his beanbag (which was getting more comfortable the more he slept on it), and he'd done the dishes beforehand so everything was good. Everything was fine. He'd given up his bed for Al because he wanted the other man to be comfortable, and that was fine. Gale didn't often manage to fall asleep in the bed anyway - it was pushed against the wall and yet still he didn't often manage to feel safe there. It was just one of those things.
Morning came along all too quickly - he was just waking up when the door opened and he heard Sabah and Jacques talking quietly to each-other. He sighed softly and sat up, glad that he'd had enough rest but unsure of if he was ready to deal with the day. It was either going to be nothing or a job. That was how it always was.
"Why are you sleeping there?" her amusement was too much for the morning, but he didn't respond, just shrugged. "'kay. Anyways," she made herself comfortable on the couch, crossed one leg over the other while Jacques sat next to her and relaxed. Both of them were far too comfortable on his couch but whatever, it wasn't as if he was sitting there. The beanbag was his new best friend. "Got a job for you! There's a dude's skull that needs a bullet."
Descriptive. It was only a few seconds before a file smacked into his forehead, and he frowned a little and watched it drop to his lap. He flicked through it briefly, and his brow furrowed.
"A priest?" he asked doubtfully.
"Yeah. Lotsa money in it. Dude's a pain in someone's a** for them to want a hit badly enough to come to us, so lookie," she leaned forward, "it should be done soon, too. Apparently he's getting a promotion in a couple of days that would conveniently move him out of Piraeus. He's doing a preach-y thing later today. Think you can set up quickly?"
"Depends on where he is and why this is so last minute," he flicked through the file again. "One or the other is fine."
"Agios Nikolaus," she leaned back casually, flicked her gaze to the television that sat on the title screen of the game Gale had been playing the previous night. "The church steps."
"Wow, it's not as if this is symbolic or anything."
"Shut up and take the job, Nuri."
Gale frowned and gave her back the file, but shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. I can do it. Easy job. This supposed to be a public thing, then? Am I walking into some kind of political statement? Again?"
"Yes and no," Sabah made a see-sawing motion with her hand, "but you're definitely going to be killing him in front of a lot of people, so distance is vital. Hence why you're doing it and Jac isn't."
"One day," Jac said softly, "I will get to re-enact Caeser's death. Today is not that day."
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 4:15:41 GMT -5
Unable to say simply that he didn't need to know whether or not Gale and he wanted the man because of the man's nature had sounded like a terrible idea and trying to bluff was also an equally bad idea, so he kept his silence. Instead, he ate the food in silence, sharing a pleasant time with the young man, chuckling at his response about locations to visit. Honestly, he had gotten his hopes up on expecting the younger man to have any good suggestions, but he couldn't be blamed for trying.
"That's fine," he said with a soft laugh, shrugging easily, "I'll find something to do during the day on my own accordance, though I'd love to see the cafe you speak of." It was a quaint scene for him, cafes and whatnot, but it was a matter of some interest to him. If Gale recommended it, perhaps it had some sort of interesting novelties like the other bakeries Annabelle spoke of multiple times a days. Hers was charming, but apparently she and the other bakery owners were in cahoots and all fawned over one another.
He had been meaning to go to the beaches and whatnot, look around, maybe enjoy a walk at the streets and be pleasantly surprised at a delightful meal at a small corner shop. He still had to find a postcard from Greece. He'd been many places before, but Piraeus, Greece was a first and he appreciated it very much now that he was lot less drunk and a whole lot more sober. The night was spent in a rather domestic manner that actually allowed him to relax.
He showed Gale basic shuffling techniques and then more complicated card tricks that verged on the art of cardistry. He'd always taken interest in the fancy flourishes, mastering sleight of hand from his early adulthood, shuffling came easily and so did the tricks. It was a lot about dexterity, about knowing how to utilize the cards to give on an elegant show. The art itself was something he enjoyed very much and after that, he had excused himself to the room once Gale had had settled to play video games. He had taken his suit case with him.
He had spent the night mulling over the fragments of his life, a terrible idea all in all. Sleep didn't come easily either and when morning came, it was with the stench of blood and the stickiness of it on his hands. Clement's eyes were still open when he had stopped breathing. He found himself hunched over the bed, breathing in and out heavily, working to develop a rhythm before heading into the bathroom for a cold shower to sober up. He didn't go out then, of course, knowing he was up far too early. He had instead actually done his usual exercises, some push ups and sit ups. He would have went for a run if he wasn't shaking from the lingering aftereffects of the nightmare.
He'd taken another shower soon after, getting dressed into another one of his suits. Today was a swimmingly good day for blue, he would think. Pulling out the navy suit, he outfitted it with a striped silver and red tie, white dress shirt, and burgundy oxfords. He was going to head out when the sound of the door opening caught his interest so instead, he stayed inside, listening into the conversation instead. It made for better intelligence gathering than going out there immediately.
Listening into the details of a rather political and religious assassination job, he frowned slightly. Interesting. The manner of which they went over the job details certainly didn't seem professional, but hell, he was starting more and more to believe his conclusion that they hardly anything but was slowly becoming solidified. Opening the door to the bedroom, he headed out, once again finding himself comfortable at the doorway where he had stood yesterday morning.
Raising an eyebrow in mock surprise, he smiled to Sabah in a seemingly cordial and friendly manner, "It's a pleasure to meet you again. I don't think we've ever got the chance to truly be acquaintanced with one another." Fighting words, he knew, but who could blame him? He would avoid talking to Gale this time. It seemed as if his acknowledgement of the younger man last time had gotten him into trouble. After the woman was gone, then he would state his morning greetings. "Alphonse Fournier, though I suppose you already know that. You though? I've never quite heard of you." It was an accusation stated in a seemingly civil manner, a statement that they were nothing in the criminal rings.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 4:40:27 GMT -5
Some days, he wondered what it would be like if Jac got his wish of re-enacting Caesar's death. Who would he kill? It wouldn't be much of a re-enactment if it didn't mean straight up killing a friend, but hey, who was he to judge? Once of Jac's other wishes was to re-enact a Judas betrayal or something. Do the kiss. Gale had done that - played nice, kissed the cheek of a man whom had thought he'd loved him, and had then killed him. It wasn't a big deal. Jac had been p*ssed for weeks after, but hey, it had been Tea who'd given the dare for Gale to do that, so it was whatever. Dares were dares and Jac understood that.
He listened to Sabah's calm tone as she told Jac that no, he couldn't stab the priest, and no, he couldn't join in on the assassination. Their interactions were, he noted, a kinder sort; Sabah treated Jac like a younger brother rather than something to toy around with. It hurt, sometimes, but he found that he didn't care as much as he once had. Becoming numb to a thing was one way to deal with it.
"I'm just saying," he tuned in to Jac saying, sounding rather heated. "Caesar's murder was a work of art I would recommend it."
"Yeah, well, no," she seemed exasperated, but he couldn't quite tell. "First of all, I don't even think you know how to use a knife, and second of all, this is Nuri's job and he can probably do it."
Gale shrugged as Jac looked at him, but anything he could've said was interrupted when Al made his appearance.
"Sabah Ganim," her smile was sharper around the edges, eyes narrowed as she watched Alphonse's movements. Gale glanced to the other man from the corner of his eye, but otherwise didn't acknowledge his presence. "I'm glad you haven't heard of me. Somehow, I think that's the point of being a stealth assassin," her gaze moved from Al and she frowned mildly at Gale, switching to Arabic. "I didn't know he was sticking around."
"I didn't either until last night," he responded in the same language, picked at his bracelets absently. "It doesn't matter. I don't think he's going to cause any trouble."
"Yeah, because your opinion is great," she sighed heavily and stood up, picking up the file and absently bopping Jacques over the head. She switched back to French. "Come on, Jac. Try not to miss the deadline, Nuri, and make sure your dog doesn't make a mess. I think this apartment building has a no pets policy."
Sabah waved lazily before she left, Jac on her trail. He waited until the apartment door closed before relaxing and turning to look at Al, raising his eyebrows slowly.
"I have never seen her leave my home that quickly," he said, but didn't expand much on that.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 5:04:26 GMT -5
Ignoring the conversation shared between Sabah and Jac - he recalled the mention though he didn't know the man's full name, he grinned at her response, amused at how defensive her response had gotten. It seemed he had touched a sore sport even as he tipped his head to the side. "I would beg to differ, the assassin by the title Eight works exclusively with the Alkaev Bratva, there is no intel on what he looks like yet he still has a reputation as one of the best in the job," he said in response. Even spies knew the best in the circle despite their lives revolving around living a life of lies and secrets. "I think you mistaken being good at what you do and being completely obsolete, but what do I know?"
Chuckling he pulled out his cigarette, watching them in a bored manner even as he eavesdropped onto their conversation as he placed the cigarette between his lips. He was running low, now that he checked, and given that these were foreign exports, he would have to order them sooner than later. Sabah Ganim. He would remember that for later. She was nothing, but she was slowly becoming a nuance and her endless yapping was starting to grate on his nerves.
And if he were to be honest, he didn't have much patience left in him. At least, not for Sabah's sort. At the very least, he was still slightly pleased that Gale was defending him against Sabah in his own way. It was respectable and sweet in a strange manner. Watching her get up and leave, he couldn't help but call out after her, "Until next time! It was a delight speaking to you!" Craning his head to watch the door slam shut behind her, he grinned, chuckling softly as he did so and pushed away from the doorway.
Straightening up, he turned to Gale who was looking at him. The words that the younger man said only brightened up his mood. "Do you think I hurt her feelings?" He was clearly pleased with himself from the manner he spoke, finally lighting his cigarette now that she was gone. Exhaling a lungful of smoke, he nodded to himself, chuckling softly, "I think I struck a nerve."
Pausing, he collected himself and focused entirely on Gale rather than what had just inspired. Being called a dog had been insulting, he had always fancied himself more of a feline. He certainly knew for sure he wasn't a dog person, but it was what it was. "Good morning," he finally offered, raising his cigarette to gesture at Gale loosely.
Contemplating what he had to do today, he continued to look at Gale with a rather thoughtful expression. "Gale, would it be fine if I came along? I don't have much to do," he wasn't going to add that he wanted to see for himself what Gale could do. Besides, he wasn't quite lying. He was starting to become bored. He hadn't brought along any of his books and card tricks, cigarettes, and knife tricks could only fuel him for so long. He could explore Greece by himself, but that wasn't the reason why he was in Greece and once he set an objective for himself he was damn well not going to drift from it.
Hell, his day was already starting to look pretty up from here on out. Walking over to the kitchen, he rummaged for something to make a quick omelette for the two of them, unconsciously working without even realizing what he was doing. Pausing as he cracked the eggs and dropped them in the pan, he turned his head to look at Gale, "Would you mind if we made a stop on the way? For some groceries? You're in dire need of some." He was going to pay for it, he wasn't going to mention that bit though. Gale would find out soon enough.
Finishing up the omelettes, he plated them and brought them over before realizing oh. Smiling sheepishly as he looked down at the food, he shrugged and gestured to them. "I apologize for just intruding upon your kitchen without asking just now, it was a force of habit," he shook his head, "I won't do it again." And his word was as true as a promise.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 5:24:14 GMT -5
Al was a troublemaker, in his own way. Gale could pick up on that. People didn't usually mess with Sabah because they could, but it seemed that the Frenchman was doing just that, and in a way, it was amusing. On the other hand, he was scared of the consequences. He groaned quickly, pinched the bridge of his nose and finally stood up. Something cracked. Maybe he was getting old or something. Yikes. He was also in a semi-foul mood, but he knew the cure for that and was doubtful that he'd be able to actually do it anytime soon. Oh well. Oh well! He was fine.
His gaze trailed Al as the man went to the kitchen, an amused expression replacing the frown.
"She doesn't have feelings but yes, I think you struck a nerve," he crossed his arms and walked over, leaning idly against the counter. "She doesn't like being told that she's bad at her job. She's not, either," he couldn't deny that she was pretty good. Not as good as she thought she was, but eh, she got things done.
The question was something that caught him off-guard - but, sh*t, Al had done nothing but catch him off-guard. It was a little unnerving, but he found that he didn't mind too much. His life had been predictable and now it had a little bit of unpredictable in it, and that was pretty cool. The request was an odd one, though, and he frowned thoughtfully.
"Okay," he spoke slowly, as if unsure of his own words. "There's not really anything for you to do, but sure, you can come along," he paused and squinted. "Yeah, we can get groceries. I would've preferred to get them after, but there might be some commotion, so it would be best to get them beforehand."
Also, his hands would get shaky afterwards as the adrenaline left his body. That was something he wouldn't want Al to see, either, but whatever. He'd deal with it. He crossed his arms and smiled faintly as he watched the older man cook. "Nah, it's fine. What's mine is yours, or whatever. I really don't mind. Feel free to use the kitchen whenever you want."
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 5:36:31 GMT -5
She doesn't have feelings, those words more than anything amused him and he could only chuckle at them, shaking his head as he did so. "I never said she was bad, just not good," he responded, shrugging simply. He'd been in the profession as a hitman, referred to as by Ghost. Riagan O'Brien didn't work with the titles, arrived, sniped the target, and disappeared from the scene of the kill. It was something that held true for a number of assassins he knew in his days as one and during his reign as a Godfather. It was always good to know who was out there, available for hire and get the job done without messing something up here or there.
Sabah Ganim was a name he had never heard, didn't garner the interest or attention to even bother looking into until she had tried to push him over the edge by her accordance rather than on his own sweet time. He would have teetered over the edge had he been given the chance to overwhelm himself in guilt and push everyone away, but Gale's assessment from yesterday hadn't been wrong entirely. It had been the spite somewhat, but moreso the concern.
Hell, it was starting to become a tad bit frustrating how his actions took into account Gale and trying to keep the young man out of trouble. If he was too apparent about it, that would only cause the man more trouble and danger. Hell, Gale might be used against him. He paused at that thought. There was no way, he wasn't foolish or stupid enough to give up everything and anything for Gale. There was a fair bit he was willing to do for Gale at this point, but they were not family yet until Gale made the call. He was just an acquaintance as of now.
He had to remind himself of that just in case he fell too far down the rabit hole the way he had with Jerome. That had been dangerous and he had been lucky that Jerome was a good kid with enough sense to realize who was actually there for him. Still he felt pleased at being given the go ahead to come along, eating a spoonful of the omelette he nodded as he listened to the younger man talk about the groceries as well.
"I won't take long buying the groceries, I know what I want," he chuckled. With someone like Colette, they would spend at least an hour ambling about with her becoming excited over this dish or that dish or what she could make with this and that. He on the other hand knew what he wanted, had a plan for the dishes already. In addition, being granted access to the kitchen was also a matter he was highly thankful of. Smiling brightly, he nodded to the younger man, "Thank you for allowing me to use the kitchen at my own disposal. Though I must say it once again, if anything I say or do bothers you or inconveniences you at any given moment, please tell me." Finishing up his meal, he nodded at Gale, waiting to see when the younger man was ready to move.
He, personally, was excited to look at the fresh produce. Terribly charming, he knew.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 6:01:05 GMT -5
Not bad, but not good. Though he wanted to defend Sabah, he decided not to - the conversation wasn't worth getting into, and he doubted that Al cared. He knew that Al and Sabah didn't get along, that was fine and dandy because Sabah hadn't even pretended to be a nice person. It was strange. Maybe she'd felt threatened by him, or maybe she had figured that he would actually die when she told him to. Either way, Gale knew her well enough to know that she despised Al, and it was...more than a little amusing to watch, if not a little scary.
"Fair enough," he smiled as he finished up his own breakfast. Al was a good cook, but he knew he couldn't get used to this. "It's no problem. Really, nothing you do bothers me."
He was amused, but also he knew he was being too polite. Verging on lying. He didn't like it, but he didn't want to voice any complaints - so he simply moved to the sink once he'd finished his food and began to wash up. Once that was done, he moved to shower and get dressed; a fairly quick task. Then it was a matter of getting his gun case from the top of the closet; it was disguised, he supposed, as a guitar case. It looked better with his general attire, and it didn't garner any looks. Who cared about a scruffy young man and his guitar? Nobody did. Especially not in a large city. The case was definitely worn with stickers here and there, and it was fitting for the gun inside, he supposed.
His Springfield Armory M1A IDF Sniper Rifle was not his pride and joy, but it was close enough. It had been a cheap sell when he'd first gotten it years ago, even cheaper when the man had decided that Gale was a decent shot. Technically, it had been a win rather than a buy, but he'd take what he got. It wasn't the best anymore, but he didn't have the funds to get a new one and frankly, it was the most trustworthy thing he'd had for a while. Also, he was attached. It had scratches and was worn down now, and he may or may not have thrown stickers on it at first to hide the scratches - but in the end, it had never failed him. Not his pride, but definitely his baby. Like an ugly biological child, or something.
"I'd like to leave soon," he said as he entered the living space again, setting the case on the ground near the door as gently as he could, "Sabah didn't give me a time estimate, and I'd rather be waiting for a few hours than have to wait for tomorrow."
The longer he waited, the less likely it would be for him to complete the job. Being given such a small time window was a pain, but he could deal with it. As long as the priest was dead soon, before he left Piraeus. This was likely the best opportunity he'd have, so he could be grateful that Sabah had told him now and not later.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 6:20:50 GMT -5
It was strange, though Gale's response seemed genuine enough it also felt like a lie and he didn't call out the other man on it. Wasn't quite sure what was wrong and he was uncertain of how to go forward or back up from there so he accepted the words as a tentative truth until proven otherwise. "I just want to impress upon the fact that I do not mind fixing any of my habits if it makes you uncomfortable," he said, standing up and stretching out as Gale left to go grab his rifle or whatever. He supposed if the man was a sniper and he was given a case, he would need his sniper rifle. It was the logical conclusion, of course. "But I'm glad I don't bother you." And it was strange how honest he was being.
For a man who was a compulsive liar he had been shockingly honest with Gale to the point where he was starting to wonder what had gotten into him. Maybe it was the depression. Definitely the depression. Nodding to the guitar case - he had seen one like that, knew exactly what it was. Ah, kids and their toys and their guns and their murder. "You look like you're going to put on a street show with that," he chuckled in slight amusement, nodding, "How quaint."
Heading over to the door, he couldn't help but find himself agreeing with the younger man. He wanted out surprisingly enough. He was not a restless man, but he was also used to having the freedom to do what he wanted. He could have left Gale alone to his job, but he was lying if he denied his curiosity regarding the other man's abilities. Instead he waited, smiling politely, "I'm ready to go whenever. After you."
It turned out, the walk to the grocery stop was not that far. It was spent in an alright silence, not too uncomfortable but certainly not familiar. He knew what both of those were like, and this was seesawing somewhere in between, which side it was leaning on, he wasn't certain. The task was fast though. He had plucked a couple of vegetables here, some meat there, some bread over on the other side, and a few choice brands of wines that he had noticed Gale was lacking much to his disappointment. He was efficient about it, almost to a militaristic precision. It was when they were waiting in line to check out for the food when his phone buzzed.
Pausing to pull it out of his pocket, he glanced up briefly to check that they were not already being rung up. They weren't. Glancing back down, he realized it was from Maxim's number that he had yet to save from his other phone that the Russian liked to refer to as his "business" phone. It was amusing to say the least. On the screen was a few words.
Tomorrow. 5 am. Piraeus Harbor.
Light weight. Low Recoil. Scope included. AS50.
20k Euro.
Fair enough. It was fun doing business with Maxim, but seriously? On Alphonse's business number? He couldn't have just called? Hearing a soft and politely annoyed cough, he glanced up to see the attendant at the register. The check out went smoothly after that, all things considered and in due time they were off to do Gale's job. He hoped it wasn't going to linger to that late. He had places to be in the early morning and though he couldn't sleep anyhow, he wanted to try to sleep early and get a little bit more rest than he was generally getting.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 6:33:54 GMT -5
Ignoring the first part of Al's words, he smiled faintly. "Quaint," he repeated, but didn't say much past that.
The trip to the grocery store was the worst part. His gun wasn't an issue; carrying it around was normal, he was stronger than he looked. It was more so the boredom. He knew, now, why he didn't often bother with grocery shopping. He'd been here maybe a few times in his years of living here, had never really bothered much. There were markets elsewhere, smaller places with less people. He shifted away from people who brushed against him but otherwise didn't react much. It was just a part of life.
He did watch to see what Al bought, curious as to what was going to be put into his kitchen. The wine amused him. Gale went for whatever was cheap and tasted decent, but it seemed that the other man had a better idea of what he was doing. It was a huge difference to his own shopping, which tended to lean more towards the junk food.
Gale was glad when it was over (didn't miss Al's attention to the phone but didn't intrude), and led the way much like an excited puppy to the location he'd chosen. It wasn't in a good part of Piraeus - the building itself was abandoned and waiting to be demolished or bought, one or the other. The steps up were crumbling and he had to hop over more than a couple of them, but getting to the roof was easy. From his pocket, he pulled out his spyglass and checked the distance.
He could see the church rather clearly from here, could already see the crowd for the priest mulling about. This wasn't the ideal distance - a little too far - but it was the best he could do on short notice. If he'd been given warning beforehand, he could've scouted out a better place; but this was fine. He was used to Sabah working against him, used to the world working against him.
Most of his focus was on setting up - finding the ideal place for his rifle before ensuring that it wasn't going to give out on him. It probably wasn't going to. Once everything was secure, he settled on his belly and rested his chin on his arm, checking the time. Alright, that was fine - it wasn't even near to midday. He checked the scene of the church from his spyglass again, and watched idly.
"I don't usually have someone with me so I'm used to watching my own back, but do you mind keeping an eye on the roof access?" he flicked his gaze to the other man. "We're a little too far from my target, so I'd rather be able to focus on him than have to check my surroundings every five seconds, if you don't mind."
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 6:49:08 GMT -5
Distracted wasn't usually his best facade, but once the phone was tucked away he was alert at the situation at hand. He followed alongside Gale, not missing his assignment. He couldn't remember the last time he had been that excited to finish a job. As exciting as the hits could get and as much as the wining and dining of the more cultivated culture had been, there was a certain excitement Gale possessed that he couldn't help but smile at. He supposed perhaps, quite some time ago, he had been quite the same. It was strange to recall he was old. Much older than Gale was, old enough to be his father, if he were to mull over it briefly.
Still, it wasn't bad and he looked at the place Gale had chosen to snipe from. Abandoned and falling apart. It looked like it must have been quite a beautiful building in its earlier years, but whatever fate had in store for it was not kind. The stairway up was questionable and shaky at best and though the passage wasn't exactly safe, it wasn't exactly dangerous either. Being fleetfooted himself, he didn't quite mind the climb upwards and it wasn't that bad of a place all things concerned once they reached the roof. A little too dusty to settle down onto in his three piece suit, but the view from here was gorgeous.
Looking out at the other buildings and crowds, he watched Gale and looked towards the direction he was focused on. It was far, he realized, especially even moreso once the young man removed the spyglass. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight, he could barely make out the blips of the crowd. This was going to be quite a spectacular shot, something that would match Riagan's sniping ability if the young man pulled it off.
Thoughtfully, he looked at the man. He would be impressed if that was the case. Hearing his request however, he straightened up slightly, almost amused at being asked to help. He hadn't been intending on doing much, but now that his presence was being utilized, he couldn't find it in him to mind. "That would be absolutely no problem," he responded, and the words were honest. He was trained at close quarters combat, had practiced it for more than forty some odd years of his life. He dare said he was an expert of sorts. Certainly not the best, but formidable at the least.
If anyone were to breach the rooftop, he would be able to take them down quickly and silently. He had no doubts about it nor his own abilities. "I'll watch the entrance," he agree, heading back a fair distance to be close enough just in case someone did come up to immobilize them before they could even sound the alert that a sniper was set up. He was still able to watch Gale work from this distance. It was no big deal.
The only problem was he was craving a smoke, but he knew better. Had been taught ever since his military days that the cherry red tip of a cigarette was a death sentence. The same would stand for a sniper. Instead, he settled, shifting his weight onto his right leg and waited. He'd sniped before, wasn't the best shot. Hell, he wouldn't call himself a half decent sniper. Just enough to get by, practiced on the range and on people, but he wasn't an ace of shots. No talent in gun handling the way Riagan and other snipers or more gun-inclined assassins were.
He only ever utilized when he direly needed them in a situation where a knife or his hands or whatever he could get his hands on wasn't going to work. He'd found out long ago he despised sniping solely because when he waited, it was over in a blink of an eye. Once the target lined up for the perfect shot and was down, the next step was to pack up and leave. There was a certain different kind of thrill than the adrenaline rush Riagan spoke of when a body was perfectly strangled to death in silence or a poison was slipped into a cocktail looking more like an allergic reaction that turned lethal than an assassination. It was the proximity that spoke of his skills in espionage, stealth, and assassination.
This, in and of itself, was an entirely different art he had never learned to master.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 7:11:40 GMT -5
The minutes or hours or whatevers before the kill were the quietest. He was in position, watching through his spyglass. He could see the target, now - setting up, preparing his preach. Even in the spyglass, at this distance? He was just an ant. It wasn't as nerve-wrecking as it should've been. I'm used to it. He was calm as could be, barely moving from where he lay on his belly. His breathing was calm and even, barely there, really. Once he could confirm that his target was staying on the steps (he was talking now, Gale thought), he adjusted his rifle slightly.
Lining up long-distance shots was Gale's specialty. He was confident in his ability, now wholly unaware of Al's presence behind him. He didn't care about that. Instead, he focused on ensuring that his gun was supported well despite minimal human contact (his tripod was a blessing), and took aim. A little bit further.
If there was one thing he hated about his work, it was how loud it often was. When he took the shot, the only indication was the bang. He'd gotten used to it, never flinched, but sh*t if it wasn't inconvenient. Piraeus, however, was a sniper-friendly place. He'd learned that in his early years. The wide open spaces made it hard to detect where a certain sound came from, but that was often the case in cities.
For a moment, there was a silence after the shot that he took advantage of. His mark was dead. He could tell that much; sort of hard to not tell when he could see through the scope. The people around the priest would take a moment to process, and he took that opportunity to pack away his rifle with quick and efficient movements, soon zipping up the case and wincing a little as he rubbed at his ear. Earmuffs, he thought idly, I need to invest in earmuffs.
Gale crouched for a moment before standing up and turning to Al, raising an eyebrow slowly. There were screams, now - made quiet by the distance, but certainly audible. Hmm.
"Alright, let's go," his tone was calm, and he kept one hand on the strap of his case while he shoved the other hand into his pocket. The shakes wouldn't start yet. "I'll tell Sabah it's done later. You don't have anything else you want to do before we go back home, though, do you?"
Admittedly, there wasn't much they could do, now. He opened the roof access door and listened for a moment before heading back down the stairs, expecting Al to follow. After all - it had been Gale's job, and he knew how to take charge in those situations, at the very least. Enjoyed the moments were he was in control, but they were few and far between. In the distance, he could make out police sirens (and perhaps ambulance sirens, but that was a little less easy to distinguish). It would be best to lay low, but he doubted the Jackals would be blamed. They never were. He wasn't sure what Sabah did to get them to stay so low on the radar despite being so active, but it had to be something. He didn't know. Didn't particularly care, either.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 7:25:33 GMT -5
It was one of those situations where there was nothing much to do. The rooftops were silent, everything was still and silent and he heard no footsteps detailing an approaching individual which meant they were safe for the time being and he was free to watch the people in the distance, moving about like a mass of ants. It was amazing. He could hardly make out anything and he wasn't certain of the strength of Gale's scope but he knew one thing, that rifle - stickers and all included - was old, worn down, and well used. It wasn't a weapon of a trained professional or an elite member of a ring of assassins.
Yet every bit about the way Gale held himself to his comfort with the rifle told Alphonse he was a professional with the tool, no matter how old and worn it was. When the gun went off, the sound didn't startle him. He had been in close contact with rifles before, had handled them himself, but the loud sound of it didn't become familiar especially due to how he just didn't utilize them often. Lifting a hand to touch right beneath his ear, he decided next time he would come with ear plugs.
He could see Gale was doing the same thing and he squinted briefly. No, Gale wasn't wearing ear plugs either. Interesting. If he kept that up, he would go deaf in a few years. He had seen a sniper who was insistent on not wearing ear muffs or ear plugs or any sort of that protection for the matter, had known him cordially as acquaintances. The man yelled when he spoke, unable to truly hear himself. But when he prepped for a job, he fell as silent as a rock. It was like two different extremes to a very small and surprisingly skilled man.
Seeing the young man stand up, he stretched out his limbs, hand briefly travelling down to make certain his knife was still where it was usually located - easily accessed. He removed his hand from his suit jacket, nodding to the younger man. "That was an impressive shot," he said the words, and they were not a lie. Looked like Riagan had somebody competing him on the fields if Gale decided to expand his business opportunities outside of his little stint with his false "family".
"I know many snipers, but few who could execute a kill like that from this distance with a gun like that," they were in now way meant to inflate Gale's ego. They were the truth, plain and simple. It was starting to make less sense why a talent like Gale hung around a woman like Sabah. If he placed his name out in the job market, he would have become a popular hand for hire in the gangs. He knew he had no qualms against hiring young and talented assassins. Hell, he found it easier to reach out to them to secure an exclusive contract the way the Alkaevs did with Eight or Artem or whatever he went by.
It was a large gesture of generosity and unity for them to offer him the opportunity to recruit the man for himself. "And I have nothing in mind, we could go back to your apartment. I could cook something nice for you considering we've bought quite a fair deal of groceries," it hadn't been heavy enough to really hinder him so he had almost forgotten he had been holding them even as he followed Gale. He could hear the police sirens in the distance but didn't turn to look. The curiosity was normal of bypassers and the fear common of criminals. He was neither a petty small time criminal nor a watcher, so he ignored it.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 7:50:42 GMT -5
After a job was just as quiet as beforehand; he never cared enough to see what damage he'd caused, and he would much rather go home and get rid of his headache. The shakes, too, were often a bad problem - the adrenaline leaving his body after a job did not like to leave in a quiet way, liked to make him shake as much as possible. He wanted to go home. The compliment made his cheeks warm, and he smiled a little.
"Thank you," he lowered his head a little. "Longer distances are my specialty."
He left it there, however. It wasn't often that he was complimented on his skills - but then again, he didn't have the best judges around. None of the other Jackals were marksmen, none of them were often with him, either. He was a one-man team, but having Al with him had been nice. To be able to focus on the shot rather than his back was a nice feeling, but he knew not to dwell on that for too long. He was fine with how he usually worked, and it was just convenient to use the tools he had laying around. Al wasn't a tool, but he sure as hell had been useful.
"You don't have to," his amusement was clear in his tone, and he tilted his head to look at the other man. "I'm going to lay on the couch and probably suffer for my mistakes. Like not wearing earplugs," he tapped his ears lightly. "One day I'll learn. One day."
He probably wouldn't ever learn, but it was a thought he could sit on. Gale didn't forget - he just didn't think about it. And then didn't think about it until it was too late. He'd eventually learn his lesson, but today was probably not going to be that day.
Gale was glad when they reached the apartment building, and even more glad once he was in the safety of his own home. He set the guitar case next to the couch (he'd clean it later), and then let himself flop onto the beanbag. He'd taken his shoes off at the door, so it was just a matter of curling up. He did exactly that, and absently hid his hands between his thighs to try to mask their shaking. Al had complimented his shot - and Gale didn't really want him to see the shakes that happened afterwards. Sabah had seen once and had mistaken it for regret, thought that he had been emotional over a kill. She was wrong, and he didn't want other people to make the same mistake.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 8:10:55 GMT -5
Smiling at the humility of the younger man, he was going to lie if he said he wasn't becoming increasingly fond of Gale and that was a terrible thing. Hell, he hadn't actually even gotten a full name for the young man. Just Gale. And that had been it, professional enough for him to address in a relaxed setting and not be able to identifiable if he wanted to. He didn't think the young man thought about that matter, had only introduced himself by his first name as most did. He was just exposed due to his stint, and if he allowed it time to blow over, he would become a ghost sooner or later. People eventually would forget. But that was not what he wanted, to return to being a ghost.
He still remembered his promise to Clement, the goal they had wanted. To make Paris safe in a strange manner, they did the jobs the police had failed so direly to complete. They swept it of drug deals, recreational ones here and there got through as long as the dosages were small and were under constant monitor from the men of honor in the area. The sales of fire arms passed through the family as well. It made it so that the more dangerous inclined criminals stayed out. Paris was the Fournier Family's.
Criminals learned in due time that any action that hindered business or safety or bothered family members would come with punishment. And his judgment was neither kind nor merciful, sometimes it was hardly swift. There had been bodies found with fifteen stab wounds, left to bleed out in front of the gates of a hospital, unnoticed in the side of the corner underneath a burnt out street lamp. It had been enough of a message, and those who tested the boundaries like that man had suffered similar fates. Until the streets were clean, safer than they had ever been despite being under criminal control.
The police had worked for him for the longest time. They worked under a faceless man, were fed lies and fear by his lawyer persona and given money by Clement and his other members who kept them well fed to be silent. It was the same humility that Gale possessed that he saw in his most beloved and trusted members. Though Clement loved speaking about his achievements within the circle, he held his tongue and temper remarkable well in an interrogation room.
Having complimented the man and been thanked for it, he didn't press the conversation, instead placing his hands into his pockets as they ambled along. "It's fine," he said simply, words with barely laced amusement and genuine sincerity. "I enjoy cooking, it's no hassle."
When they had returned, he had set out the ingredients necessary to make Hachis Parmentier, a savory meal that was homely to say the least. He glanced towards Gale briefly even as he set aside the bottle of red wine that he had bought from the store. It was old, a bit on the expensive side, but he had always loved his wine. He could see the young man placing his hands between his thighs as if he were trying to savor warmth. It was hardly cold, so that couldn't be it. Perhaps the aftershakes from the adrenaline? But that was... he couldn't quite fathom why the man was hiding it. Though when he came to think of his own muscle tremors that occurred from time to time, he hated the appearance of being weak. That was perhaps it.
The meal didn't take long, barely even fifty minutes before he plated it and turned to the younger man, pouring out a glass of red wine. This was becoming so strange and familiar, traversing into domestic territories. Breakfast, lunch there, dinner here, and small talk and sometimes more pressing conversations. It felt as if he were at home even though he was so far away. "Please, try the wine first. It's among one of my preferred brands." Sue him for recommending the wine and not the food. He was a sommelier for many reasons and his love of wine was definitely one of them.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 14:25:21 GMT -5
If someone had told him when he was younger that he'd be complimented by a goddamn Godfather, he wouldn't have even known what a Godfather was. Maybe he'd think of the movie the Godfather, or something like that. Either way, he probably wouldn't have believed himself - especially not when it came down to guns. As a kid, he'd been confident enough to be violent, but not enough to trust in his own skills. When he thought about it that way, maybe something had just been f*cked all along, but hey, he didn't have to dwell on that anymore. He had the diagnoses to his problems and opted to ignore them, like any responsible adult.
Listening to Al make food was already something of a comfort, and he hated that. Don't get attached. He wasn't allowed to think of Al as anything more than temporary, wasn't allowed to fall into a sense of security. He wasn't foolish enough to trust Al to the ends of the earth - but hell if he didn't trust him enough. After all, he'd let his guard down to focus on his job on the rooftop, had trusted that his back would be watched. It had been, too. No trouble had occurred but he also hadn't been harmed in the perfect opportunity, and that was...it was something.
He shifted his weight so that he could press more on his shaking hands, managed to keep his shoulder tremors to a minimum. Al was not Sabah - he'd proven time and time again that he was different in more ways than just one, but Gale realised that he couldn't help the thought process. Whatever other people did, he found himself wondering how she'd react to his actions and if he was doing anything bad by her standards. It was something interesting to realise, but not pleasant. He was glad for a distraction when Al spoke, and he stood up from the beanbag and walked over to the table, sitting down lightly.
Still shaking, he thought idly, smiling faintly. Oh well.
"I'm going to tell you now that I'm awful with wines," his tone was amused and he leaned back a little, raising an eyebrow. He did, however, taste the wine - it was nice and that surprised him, made him pause for a moment before he flicked his gaze back to Al, his amused little smile remaining. "This is telling me that the wine I had laying around yesterday was potentially offensive, and you're pretty good with your wine."
Gale was a whiskey sort of man. And vodka. He didn't mess around, didn't often drink just to have something with a meal - but Al's taste in wine was a surprise. It was more surprising that he actually liked it, too. He could see why he was asked to try it before anything else.
There was something homely about Al being in his apartment. That, in itself, was strange. He was used to feeling unsafe, knowing that Sabah or Jacques could just decide they wanted to crash for a while, knowing that they'd visit every morning. Maybe, while Al was here, the morning visits would lessen or stop altogether until the man was gone. That seemed like the ideal. He wasn't even sure how long he was staying, though - and he couldn't exactly hope that Al was going to stay for a while.
You could always just go with him. He offered it before, the less-rational part of his brain reasoned. It would be easy. It's not as if you have any real personal belongings. Could be easy to get a new job.
It would be easy to get a new job. To set himself up. Gale knew that logically - but it was the isolation aspect that scared him. This was where his family was, and even if he was being used, he didn't particularly care. He was allowed to be self-destructive, because he deserved it. It would be easier to stay here and to continue life (for his short time), would be easier to stay out of the way.
He flicked his gaze down and exhaled slowly through his nose, but managed to keep the faint smile. His hands were still trembling and he knew it, but it wasn't as bad as it had been before.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 19:01:03 GMT -5
He had seen men like Gale in his lifetime before, men who, despite possessing a home shrunk in and of themselves. Men who were afraid to occupy space, of allowing themselves to be noticed. They tried to draw less attention to themselves, to be ignored and even forgotten. He knew the reasons why too and whatever it was Gale was trying to hide from him, he could see the slight shakes running through Gale, nothing large enough to be brought up. It clearly wasn't guilt because had it been guilt, he knew there would have been some compulsion following it.
The repeated washing of one's hands, the desperate attempt to hold back tears, the carelessness, the overwhelming desire to try to forget and not think about the deed. He knew the list, knew how long it was and how terrible things like that was. This was... adrenaline? He supposed so, so he didn't understand why Gale was attempting to hide it, but he allowed the young man his own secrets and the comfort of his own habits. It wasn't as if the shaking was doing anything to bother him.
Smiling as the man had a sip of his wine and complimented he couldn't help but grin. It had been something that people weren't exactly surprised by, but still mildly impressed by. He liked his wine, had known people very well who brewed wines, had had his own wines brewed from time to time from a grape vineyard he owed aboard. He went there from time to time, inspected the grapes, tried the wine. It was good quality, strong taste with more alcoholic content to them than most others. Perhaps, if Gale came to his house, he would be able to allow the man to try one of them.
"Oh, well, honestly, as long as you're drinking something you prefer, there's no harm to it," he chuckled, laid back and easy though he was a little amused by how Gale hadn't inhaled the scent of the wine before drinking it. It was a small nuance he knew, at least Gale didn't try tasting it by downing the entire cup like Clement had done when he had wanted to mess around with Alphonse. The thought of his friend stung a little, but he pushed it aside. "Besides, your wine was fine, I just prefer something more... familiar."
It wasn't exactly a lie. The wine yesterday had been quite decent, something cheaper but also decent. That was rare to come by and it made for something he could probably get Renato to drink. The young man seemed averse to anything overly expensive, swearing on his life he couldn't afford it so he wouldn't bother to try. "I honestly don't mind it, but wine like this?" He lifted the bottle up just to emphasize his words, "I would feel sinful if I drank the whole bottle in one sitting for no other purpose than to get drunk." Now that definitely wasn't a lie.
Inhaling the sweet aroma of the red wine, he slowly took a sip from it. As he lowered the glass, he looked through his wine glass at Gale, appraising him. Loyal to a fault to the wrong people, skilled, and kind to those around him. Those were admirable qualities if he could only redirect that loyalty... Placing the glass cup down, he slowly started to cut into his meal.
"How long have you been sniping for?" He said, interested in learning more about the young man's impressive skill at the rifle. "You're a seasoned sniper, I've seen many shots during my time in the military and even more as a hitman. You could be a name to be feared, you certainly have the skills." His own intents and purposes aside, the question was fueled by an honest curiosity. There was a good amount of money that would go to a sniper of Gale's caliber. Hell, he knew a lot of organizations would try to seal them as an exclusive act for themselves the way he had Riagan, Leopald, and a handful of other specialists.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 19:43:03 GMT -5
His smile remained amused as Al explained that his wine was fine, but he could understand, to a degree. If he put it into other terms, he could understand where the other man came entirely. It only broadened his amusement to a degree, and he wished he was more into wine. Maybe he would've understood more or whatever etiquette came with wine, but whatever. Al didn't seem to mind, and that was good enough for him.
"That's fair," he seemed to watch briefly for a cue that he could eat (hey, he was hungry), and cut into his own food when the other did. "My wine is usually the cheapest I can find," his smile was sheepish. "Wine is pretty popular in Egypt, but I really enjoy being awkward. Also, the wine market there isn't big."
It was strange to talk about home after so long. He cleared his throat and lowered his gaze.
When questioned about his experience, he paused. There wasn't a reason to lie and he didn't want to - knew that he wouldn't - but it was a touchy subject. He hadn't realised that, had thought about it before without really considering it. He didn't know when he'd started treasuring certain parts of his past, had always seen nothing but the bad; but that, he supposed, was a mindset he'd been forced into rather than one he had willingly. He took a moment to consider his words, and then shrugged. There was no harm in telling.
"I was thirteen when I first picked up a gun," he flicked his gaze up, "wasn't much older when I started getting into sniping. I couldn't have been older than sixteen when I killed my first," it sounded...terrible when he put it like that. His mother hadn't been the best influence, but hey, she'd been doing her best. Maybe it was best to keep her out of this, for now. It was easier to keep the details vague.
Gale hadn't ever regretted his first kill. Hadn't cared, now that he thought about it. People around him sometimes talked about it being life-changing, but it had just been a step in the right direction. His mother had been impressed, had realised that she could train him. Hadn't realised that it could backfire at any point, but that hadn't been her fault. He hadn't talked to people openly, had never talked about his feelings. Sh*t, he still didn't - but he wasn't going to let angst make him a bad person again.
"All I needed to be taught was how to handle and respect a gun, taught how to position myself. When it came down to sheer skill, I had it down," it wasn't a brag. Just the truth. "I've always been good at the basics. Aim and shoot. Getting used to everything else wasn't too hard. I guess you could've called me a prodigy. It got me into crime pretty early, but that was always a thing for one side of the family. Didn't see it until I was doing the crime."
Why was he telling Al all of this? It felt like the man had earned it, after telling him about the Fournier Family. It wasn't quite equal, but it was getting there. He didn't like owing people truths, he knew that much.
"I had a few people teach me along the way, too. Different snipers for different things. There was this man named Altair," he paused momentarily, smiled faintly. A.F. Al. Funny. Then he continued, "he taught me how to position myself and how to keep a check of my surroundings. He's probably the reason I'm," he made a little gesture, "better than I would've been if I'd relied purely on skill. He taught me to actually think about my actions."
And then he'd been recruited by Sabah, and thinks had gone to sh*t - but he decided that it was best to skip over that. He expected that Al could come to his own conclusions.
"Pretty sure I was destined for crime, or something. If I hadn't joined her," clearly talking about Sabah, "then I would've fallen in with somebody else, eventually. I was always more interested in shooting than I was in actual education."
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 9, 2017 20:38:31 GMT -5
It was, without a doubt, something endearing. In his younger years as a soldier, he had been a little low on money. Had not had the easiest time trying to pay off the rent and the food money, but he had made ends meet barely here and there and food wasn't what was best, but what was most affordable. And those days had been some of the hardest, but also some of the best. His father had laughed then, smiled at him, was proud of who he was and what he was. The time following after he was hired by the DGSE and he resigned from the 13th parachute dragoon regiment to marry Seraphin, the smiles had become less and the arguments more often.
His father had been disappointed, had said that spy work was filthy and cruel and dirty. It was a lot more about sh*t slinging and putting evidence that the newspapers could use against good men who didn't bow down to pressure. Some of it was true, but most of it wasn't. Ends had been easier to meet somewhat. He had been poor then too, didn't quite live a life of more affordable luxuries until his third or fourth year in the DGSE. "There's no shame in buying what's affordable if it gets the job done," he chuckled. He had, after all, bought a 15k euro bottle of white wine before just to have it taste like utter sh*t.
It had been a mistake in hindsight, and the wine that Gale had had actually tasted a lot better than that. He had come to make a habit of buying wine out of impulse and shared a drink with those who entered his trusted circle. If the wine was good, he gifted it to them. If it was terrible? He cracked open a new one. It made for quite a way to taste test wine.
Taking in Gale's words, he listened idly to the story, impressed but also saddened by the young man's story. I was destined for crime. That certainly was one way of putting it. He knew that there were many men and women like Gale who didn't have much of a choice, found themselves good at crime than at leading a normal life solely because of the way the system was made. It pushed a lot of good people to the brink, causing them to do terrible things.
"Well, those who taught you taught you well," he said and the words were the truth. Gale was a prodigy, he supposed. Now that he'd seen the young man's skills, he knew that there was little arrogance fueling the words, but confidence. He didn't know why, but he felt as if his own story was warranted, if only to give Gale even grounds. It seemed as if he was taking more than giving and that was what the others - Jac and Sabah - had been doing.
"I never thought I would have led a life of crime," he chuckled, running his finger on the outer brim of the cup of wine. "I had been taught how to fight when I was young, but the purposes of learning had been more out of self defense than with the intents to harm. I pursued criminal law, intent on becoming a lawyer myself." It was strange to hear those words, more stranger to realize they were being told to a stranger because despite all he was learning about Gale, they certainly weren't more than two strangers under a roof. Perhaps acquaintances if he allowed himself to believe that.
"At the insistence of a good friend, I joined the military and became a part of the 13th Parachute Dragoon Regiment. I was good at what I did then, better yet when I was recruited by the Direction gΓ©nΓ©rale de la sΓ©curitΓ© extΓ©rieure," he chuckled, taking a bite of his meal. "I used to work for the government, used to want to be a lawyer. I finished my studies in law, but..."
He shook his head, amused at the notion, "On good authority I was told the Director of the DGSE wanted me dead. So I fled, became a hitman for hire. And somewhere, somehow along the road, I took the interest of the Godfather of the Chapelle Family who had one son he despised with every fiber in his body. So he gave me the crown to his criminal empire."
It was a condensed story of his life, one that few could verify due to the information of his past affairs being wiped completely from the systems by the DGSE. His own jobs and hits were more than stories of violence and admiration told by other assassins. He had went by an alias then, had been fearful and had done what he wanted until Chapelle had him secured for conversation. The man had wanted him as one of his own hired hands, his own associate. His own skill and cunning had only impressed the man and Chapelle had promised him all he wanted. The Family had been small then.
"It's a strange story," he said, pausing to eat a bite. "I suppose some of it was luck, other was skill. But thinking about it now tells me one thing for certain. If I left to rebuild what I had lost, I would succeed." You could too went unsaid. It was strange how he had ended up telling the young man a parable of sorts, life lesson included at the end. It was strange, but the more he spoke to Gale, the more it became like he was speaking to one of his own children. He wanted to tell the man ti was not too late, to instill into him the same belief of better days he taught his children.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2017 23:59:07 GMT -5
He kept the same subtle smile on his face, but despite Al's words, he still felt a little self-conscious. It went the same for his rifle - old and worn out, it had been secondhand when he'd bought it, too. That had set him back quite a bit, but his previous one had pretty much fallen apart. The case was secondhand and old, too.
Gale didn't think that his money situation was bad. He'd been poor before and he could deal with it. When he did jobs, he got a small cut of the payout just like the rest of the Jackals, because they shared. Made it easier for the younger ones to settle down and cause less trouble, meant that the older ones didn't have to hold them up as much. But, well. He knew that he had enough to get by - money for his bills and his rent (which was steep), some money for food (most of that went to decent whiskey), and maybe some for a game every few months or something. It wasn't a bad situation, more comfortable than what he'd had when he'd been living back home, maybe a little too tight to just scrape by.
His jobs had the highest payout; the high-skill sniper jobs that none of the other Jackals could do. It meant that he was likely to breeze by during that month, maybe two months if he got lucky. This job was one of the one-month ones; where he'd be able to not worry about a possibility of being low on rent or something. It was nice, but his situation wasn't ideal. Maybe it was part of the reason he bought takeout; the stuff could last for a few days, it was often cheap, and it meant that he didn't need to get groceries.
It made him more self-conscious while he had a guest, and he didn't like it but he'd just push on. So what if Al judged his rifle? It didn't matter, because Gale had been complimented and that had been nice.
"Yeah," he said softly at Al's comment. He hadn't really thought about his mother or Altair for a while; both of them back in Egypt. He'd heard a little about Altair from time to time - the man wasn't just a mentor, he had jobs to do - but there was radio silence on his mother's end. Really, he didn't have the courage to try to contact anyone from his past. It felt wrong.
Now, he listened to the other man's story with interest.
He was impressed. Al had done so much with his life - he was a lawyer, had been part of the military, he'd been a hitman and then he'd been the Godfather of the Fournier Family. He turned it over in his head before giving a faint smile.
"You do seem like the lawyer type," he commented. "Good with words, unfazed by sh*t thrown at you. Honestly, your entire life sounds like a crime novel."
It wasn't a bad thing! Gale liked crime novels. It just sounded all so unreal when said out loud - despite knowing that Al had had an active life, he hadn't thought that it stretched that far. The only unsurprising part about it was that the man hadn't thought that he was going to lead a life of crime. Everything else was just...wow.
"Not many people can say that," he looked down at his food, "to rebuild an entire empire is a daunting task that a lesser man wouldn't take on. Sometimes, people just give up because it's too much," he figured that the night he'd found Al had been something like that, but he didn't mention it. "You're a very strong man, Al."
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 10, 2017 0:21:28 GMT -5
Their conversations seemed to follow some sort of pattern in his mind. They would bring up topics, but before they were well and truly exhausted and either side could get far too uncomfortable about it, they were dropped quickly just to be replaced with a new subject matter of interest. It was a delicate dance, if he were to be honest. It didn't take much to see Gale's situation wasn't good and well his situation was the public ridicule. They both had a fair share of skeletons locked away and he knew that Gale didn't know what would affect him the way he didn't know what would hurt the young man. Other than Sabah.
All the small tells of Gale being uncomfortable or withdrawn from a situation had been difficult to pick up on the reason why, causing him to back off. It was difficult trying to communicate him to some degree. It felt as if he was stepping on the younger man's toes and every time he asked if the deed had actually been done or not, they were dismissed. It was a situation, if he were to be honest, wasn't entirely ideal. But then again, Gale was lying to him in order to avoid conflict.
"Do you still keep in contact with your other associates or do you work exclusively for Sabah?" At least, that was what he had garnered. Sabah was in charge, she had forced the job onto Gale and she had control in every single one of their engagements. This question interested him not out of curiosity, but out of good business. If he knew associates that Alphonse knew, perhaps a common ally would be a better voucher than his own kindness which he knew could easily be falsified. Perhaps that was what Gale was wary of. The duplicity.
Chuckling at Gale's statement, he silently picked away at his food. He seemed like a lawyer. Maybe, he supposed. Quick on his feet, sharp with his wit. There was, he decided, some truth to that statement and he felt amused by the mention of the crime novel. Well, had his life been fitting for a story, it was one filled with far too many tragedies. He supposed it wouldn't have made for the best of reads where the audience cheered on the protagonist. He had come to the conclusion in all his years of life, he would make for a poor protagonist, but a better antagonist that the audience would want dead.
"I suppose that's a compliment?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, a smile plastered on his face. It was something, that was for certain. He'd never had those exact words said to him before and it amused him greatly. "Thank you. I suppose there are some qualities that translate into daily life even outside of the courtroom." He knew that for a fact and had more than once been told by Seraphin to stop assuming the lawyer voice when he was in an argument. He wasn't even sure what that was supposed to mean.
His smile fell though, when Gale brought up him being a strong man. He was many things. A survivor, an opportunist, a violent man who was used to getting his way at the very end of the day. Taking a sip of wine to avoid allowing Gale to see the slip in his mask, the pain. He shook his head. "I am not a strong man," he said softly, voice almost bitter. His father had been. Clement had been. Firm in their ways, never to bend or break.
He bent. He called it versatility, but he knew it for what it was. He was stupidly lucky in times when others ran out of luck, had been so in the military and was still that even today. All the bodies in the streets, but not his. Never his. "I just have a lucky lot in life that allows me to recover from situations I shouldn't be able to," he smiled softly, eyes carefully blank as he stared at the table. Lifting his head up to look Gale in the eye, his smile became more genuine, "But at the end of the day, what matters is that I recovered regardless of the paths that led me there."
"I cannot reminisce about the past if I will for change," he said, near echoing Clement's words. "And I have not finished what I have started." It was too early to die. He realized that now and despite the bitterness on his tongue and the emptiness in the pit of his stomach, he knew that this resolve would pull him through through the worst of it. And when he finished, he would be left with nothing. It would be ugly, but the fallout was not what he had to focus on. His own relapse, his own breaking point would have to wait. He was rescheduling that depressive episode, god damn it.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2017 1:01:25 GMT -5
"I work exclusively for Sabah," he tilted his head to the side. "I haven't been in contact with my associates for..." his brows furrowed as he counted off the years. Hm. That was too many years. "I don't remember," a lie, but he decided not to think about it too much. As much as he hated lying, he also didn't like the years he'd ignored his associates for. "It's been a little while, though."
When he finished his food, he set the fork down neatly. It was easy to ignore the low hum of his phone on the other side of the room; if someone really wanted him, then they'd use the landline number, instead. He didn't want to be rude and wander off to answer a call that could be as stupid as Jacques getting stuck outside his own apartment. He could call one of the others for help, because Gale wasn't going to make the trip out just to walk with him.
"It is," he gave an amused smile.
He'd only ever met corrupt lawyers. The slimy kind who made empty promises and didn't really care about their clients, were ready to sell out or whatever. They weren't nice people, didn't seem like they were good at their jobs. Al didn't seem like that sort of person, though - seemed like a better man, someone who was good at his job.
Gale did not miss the mood drop, and his smile flattened a little to accommodate for it. He watched Al quietly and listened to his words, but disagreed internally. He rested his hands on his lap, played with the bracelets idly and looked down. His smile didn't come back; instead, he maintained a neutral and careful expression.
"Sometimes, it's not just luck," was all he would say on the matter.
I have not finished what I have started. Those words were rather intimidating, and he glanced up to the man across from him and watched for a few moments. Then, he exhaled slowly and leaned back. What will you do once you're finish? stuck at the back of his throat, and he swallowed it down without allowing the question to pass. He flicked his gaze up to the ceiling and considered his thoughts carefully. He wasn't quite sure what to make of Al, anymore. He was a trustworthy man with heavy baggage but strong determination, had pieced himself back together nearly overnight. It was strange that the man didn't think he was strong, but Gale didn't want to push his luck. Instead, he let his faint smile return.
"I have another job coming up soon, but I'd rather you didn't accompany me. It shouldn't take me more than a few days," he tapped his thigh with his still-shaking fingers lightly, for something to do. "If you want, I can write down the address of the cafe I mentioned before, so that you can check it out?" phrased more of a question than a suggestion.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 10, 2017 1:24:32 GMT -5
So, it would turn out it was exclusively for Sabah. What a waste of talent. He didn't even stay in contact with the associates that had taught him tricks and tips to the trade. A real shame, if he were to be honest. One of the most powerful weapons in their line of business was connections. Without a good name, a reputation, and an abundance of contacts - criminals remained nameless. It was one of the reasons why this particular gang was completely under his radar, had stowed away talent. What an unfortunate circumstance.
"I see," he said softly, mulling over the words as he tilted his head, hearing the sound of Gale's notification and amused that the man didn't immediately check it. Knowing his kids, they would have. The polite gesture was not missed as he finished up his meal and smiled slightly in appreciation of the respect. "You should try to see if they're still about, it's never too late to rebuild contacts. They're useful in our line of work."
Deciding that was enough of a word of advice from an old man, words that Gale didn't ask for - advice unsought that would probably only ruffle feathers - he leaned back chuckling at Gale's admission. "Well then," he said, smile genuine "I'm flattered."
It was a unique compliment, one of a sort that he had never received before. Colette had always dreaded why her father could be so, and he quoted, "uncool" when he had been the biggest advocator, donator, and runner of the bake sale drive at her school. She had said he would ruin her social life if he had stumbled upon her campus. It made him amused as he thought about it. Well, now she was right. He was her biggest disappointment, he wondered if her friends isolated her because of him. Glancing up, he could see that the shift in his mood during the conversation had not gone unnoticed. That Gale himself seemed to deflate a bit.
"Perhaps," was all he could say in agreement.
He knew he was dangerous, knew damn well he had grown his fangs with time. He knew he was a survivor, a killer, with hands stained in blood. A man who had sent many to their graves long before their time. A man who had once been considered to be playing God before he had come out and said he didn't believe in any higher power. This was a world ran by demons and devils, and he aspired to be the most fearsome of them all. For the sake of those who trusted him, he became the strongest. So that those who tried to touch his family would face nothing but an iron fortress. A family so powerful, they did not want to try to trespass.
That hadn't went well. He was the surviving evidence of it. Still, he would take what the young man had said, would accept it for now until his luck ran out and proved the young man wrong. The change in topic had came as something he appreciated and he perked up slightly. Well, Gale wanted to do it solo? Perhaps his presence had been unwelcomed afterall. Nodding in agreement, he smiled.
"I hope all goes well on your job," he said simply.In this life, things could go very wrong very quickly. "And I would love for you to give me the address of the cafe if that isn't much trouble." Ah well, he'd entertain himself. At least Gale would have a brand new sniper for this job, he thought, softly reminding himself of the meet time.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2017 1:44:05 GMT -5
The idea of rebuilding contacts was intimidating - more so with Altair than his mother. His mother was...his mother. She had stated time and time again that she was there for him, that she would support him if he needed her. Altair, on the other hand, had no such obligation. He didn't have to care about the kid he'd taught, didn't need to know what had happened. The man worked solely from various contacts and connections to various gangs, and Gale didn't feel like he was enough to be involved in that network - but maybe he'd take Al's words into consideration. If he beat his timer, then sure, he'd consider it.
He didn't respond, too busy thinking about it. If he was being honest with himself, it genuinely made him anxious - he'd barely talked to people outside of the Jackals, had only been involved in business here and there but was otherwise just part of the background, even if Sabah used him as a name. He didn't mind it, but he hadn't really considered how...alienated he'd become. That Al suggesting he rebuild contacts made him anxious was interesting.
"Thank you," he smiled, hoped that he hadn't offended Al by asking him to stay back. After a couple of moments, Gale stood up and walked to the little table that his landline sat on, flicked through until he found his notepad and wrote the address (it took him a moment to translate in his mind), before returning to the table and gently setting down the paper for Al. "It shouldn't be hard to miss. There's nobody who speaks French there, but there are a few employees who speak English. It's not really in a busy part of the city, so they're used to Greek customers and they'll probably try to speak Greek to you at first. They'll switch when they realise what you speak, though."
It felt like a good idea for a beforehand warning.
The rest of the evening consisted of minor chores; washing the dishes, cleaning his rifle, making sure the twins hadn't managed to get into trouble with anyone (they hadn't). It was surprisingly domestic to have Al around, but a little better, too. He didn't feel as lonely, didn't have to worry as much about the appearance of Sabah or Jac. If he knew Sabah, she'd probably avoid the Frenchman for the duration of his stay. That, or attempt to kill him, but he doubted that would work. Alphonse was stronger than she knew, and that was strange to think about.
The late hours of night didn't offer him sleep. In fact, he didn't fall asleep until near three in the morning - at some point, he half-woke up to the sound of the door closing, but fell asleep soon after, curled up in the beanbag with a blanket over himself. The distant sound of traffic was something he was used to and he was glad for it, for once.
He woke up again, not long after the door had closed, to check his texts. Dates, from Sabah. It took his sleepy mind a brief moment to process that they were for the long job, took him a little longer to realise oh yeah, that's already sorted, and then he dozed off again. He was still asleep when the sun rose entirely, phone loose in his fingers and no longer on the beanbag, but on the floor. This was where he woke up to the sounds of birds and light over him. He remained where he was laying, staring up at the ceiling.
Gale had slept longer than he'd intended to, but his mind was quick enough to process that Sabah hadn't made an appearance. He glanced over the couch sleepily and blinked, before shrugging. Whatever.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 10, 2017 2:17:12 GMT -5
Accepting the address from Gale he appraised the piece of paper before pulling out his wallet to slip it into, pocketing it away for later. He would check it out eventually, he knew that for a fact. Listening to Gale's words, he nodded along. That was fair enough. He had known, when arriving in Greece, that a lot of folks had somebody who could speak English working in their vicinity more often than not. Smiling, he spoke, "I appreciate the warning. I'll keep that in mind."
It would be like with Flavian when the man had first attempted to communicate with him in Greek and then immediately swapped to English upon the realization that Alphonse didn't speak a lick of Greek. It was nice that it was at least tourist friendly to the say the very least. It wasn't bad either considering he knew a fair deal about the language despite not preferring it over his own native tongue, it made for one of the best for securing contracts considering exactly how global English had become in due time.
After finishing the meal and watching Gale head off to do his own things, Alphonse headed back to the room, giving the younger man space to do whatever he wished to. It was a relatively uneventful night. Just the fear of the nightmares keeping sleep at bay before finally exhaustion won over. At three forty five am, his alarm had went off, quiet enough to only wake him, despite him not truly sleeping. He felt worse for wear, but he had been through times like this many times before. Showering and getting dressed, he looked over his clothes and mulled over the idea of bringing them to get dried clean. That honestly wasn't a terrible idea. And the more casual clothing he could bring to a laundromat.
He headed out silently, heading to the piers as instructed by Maxim. The skies still were dark, light having yet to break out, yet the seagulls were already perched about and flying, cawing without much concern to the sheer volume they produced. Rubbing his ear as he headed down the rickety wooden pier, he headed over to the only boat with an attendant waiting. The man straightened up upon seeing him approach. He was met with a flurry of Greek where he only recognized the word 'Maxim'. He had to raise his hand to stop the other man, shaking his hand slightly. "I do not speak Greek," he said in Russian and the man seemed to perk up slightly at the words. Apparently the man hadn't liked speaking Greek.
That amused him slightly. "I suppose you are Maxim's contact, yes? You have the money?"
The man was larger than he was, but not by much. He would've been intimidating had Alphonse not been trained, military stature. Impressive payroll, but all in all he was a businessman and the gruff words made him frown. "I already wired the payments." He fixed the man with a stare, knowing full well that this was not Maxim's doing. Looked to him like a certain someone was trying to make a few extra euros here and there. That made for bad business, he would have to tell Maxim.
The man only laughed, raising his hands before moving back into the boat. Following him inside, the man continued to speak as he worked pulling out a large box, "I was just testing you." He highly doubted it, but he didn't press the argument. Instead, he leaned over to look at the contents of the box. Well that was quite a beaut. "Everything in tact, just as promised."
"Do you by chance carry ear buds?" He asked, recalling it as he nodded at the contents even as the large Russian man closed the container and locked it up. Accepting the key, he watched as the man paused, looking around thinking about the words.
"I do. 10 euro a pair, cheap business, yes?" He said, pulling out a brand new pair. These were good, high quality. Something he'd used before on his time at shooting ranges. Not bad. Pulling out his wallet, he paid for them, pocketing them before giving the man a firm handshake.
"A pleasure doing business," he said softly, heading out with a small wave. The gun was lightweight, just as Maxim had promised. It wasn't too much of a hassle to carry and was easy to transport. Not bad, not bad. Heading back to the apartment in the new light of the morning was easy enough. There were few people out and about, not enough to take interest in him or the contents of container. Besides, it looked like a large suitcase, and he was wearing suit. Easy enough. Professional and businesslike, nothing to garner much attention.
Returning back, he found Gale still asleep. Smiling at the sight, he headed back to his room with the box to doze off for a bit. He didn't rest for long however, the light flooding in from the blinds far too overwhelming as compared to earlier. Sitting back up, he stretched out and grabbed the case, heading out silently tot he living space. It turned out Sabah was not here, well, that made her appearances less predictable than he had first thought. Oh well. Smiling at Gale, he nodded to the younger man, placing the box down on the table and settling on the couch. "Good morning."
"I thought it rude of me to come without a gift, and though it is a little late - please, forgive me for that - I thought perhaps you would like it still," he said softly, unsure if the man was truly awake yet. Pulling the earbuds from his pocket out, he placed them on top of the box alongside the key.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2017 2:45:33 GMT -5
It hadn't really occurred to him that Al would've left while he was asleep, but that seemed to have been the case - rather than Sabah or Jac dropped by to raid his freezer or whatever. He shifted his weight and absently draped one arm over his stomach, blinking up at the ceiling rapidly to focus his mind. It didn't work. He needed coffee. With a small groan, he pushed himself into a sitting position and pinched the bridge of his nose, before flicking his gaze towards Al.
The floor was not as comfortable as it had been the previous night, and he moved so that he was sitting on his beanbag again, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his thighs. It was strange how quickly he'd become accustomed to Al's presence, how easy it was to accept that he was around. He blinked, however, at the mention of a gift. He didn't really understand why Al had thought it necessary, but he gave a small smile nonetheless.
After a couple of seconds to allow himself to process, he watched Al for a couple of minutes before shifting forward to gently unlock and open the case.
Instead of one eyebrow, both eyebrows raised - and he bit his lip. Christ almighty that was a sexy gun, but also - what the f**k. What the living sh*t.
"When most people talk about gifts to their hosts, they're talking about, like. I don't know. The hamper things," he laughed, though it was a little weak. "Not an expensive a** rifle, holy f*ck."
He shifted his weight a little to pinch the bridge of his nose. Al was going to give him an aneurysm, one day - but he still couldn't help but smile a little, even if he felt a little weight of guilt in his stomach. Gale absently brushed his fingers through his hair, glad that he caught some tangles that hurt enough for him to bring himself to reality.
"I don't - I don't really know how to repay you or thank you or," he made a little gesture with one of his hands, smiled sheepishly. "Al, this is a lot."
Far more than he deserved. All he'd done was try to help - he hadn't needed repayment for that, and the gun was extreme. He was more than a little touched, but wasn't entirely sure how he could repay the other man; this was not something cheap and it wasn't easy to acquire either, and sh*t, it was brand new, too. It felt like far too much, but hell if he wasn't grateful. He'd been worrying about the idea of getting a new rifle, didn't have any funds put aside; he was used to his old one, but he didn't think that it would take long to adjust to this one. He'd always found himself adaptable to different types of rifles - probably from a time where he'd never had a single gun, just what he'd been given.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 10, 2017 3:14:45 GMT -5
There was something almost endearing about Gale's trust to him. He hadn't bothered to stay on guard when Alphonse had left, hadn't paid much attention to him leaving, hadn't even noticed him returning from the looks of it. Had he wanted to kill Gale in his sleep, that would have been laughable easy and an unfortunate end to a very proficient sniper. He supposed, with due time, he might mention that matter. Instead, he watched as Gale seemed to be going through the motions of waking up.
He smiled slightly, endeared at the sight, almost a splitting picture of one of his own children drowsily waking up. He watched the young man carefully for his response as his hands worked on the lock, opening up the case simply enough while looking at the gun. The response was something he had expected, but far more also. The way he responded was surprise at the grand gift and the words he said well... He wasn't sure what it meant.
Well, he was actually. Gale didn't know how to repay him. "It's nothing," he said, raising a hand to placate Gale before the man could try to continue progressing on how this was a lot. He didn't want to hear if it was just too much because those words would sadden him. A sniper was represented by his weapon of choice, just as many assassins were by their weapons. The skilled professional wielded an extraordinary weapon. It had been something he had been taught in his line of duty, knew that the more expensive killers made their marks with blades forged by exclusive weaponsmith and the best mercenary units used weapons found in military bases.
Gale deserved it and it was not too much, but hardly enough. He, despite how homely his apartment was, deserved a lot better. A space that was his that neither Alphonse nor the likes of Sabah could intrude upon. He definitely needed a better payroll if he was investing in what was cheap and takeout. It meant that he was making ends meet, not barely, but just above that where he could fuel his own interests and hobbies without losing back on the food money. Or at least, that was what it seemed like.
"I've been intruding and you've been nothing but kind and hospitable," he continued, explaining his actions even as he leaned back to allow Gale the chance to handle the gun. "If I am to be quite frank, I don't know where I would have been right now had it not been for your gesture of kindness. I am not a man to owe others for their favors and yet this," he gestured to the rifle, "This is a small gift for what you have done for me."
"I understand you have your heart set in staying by Sabah and your... family," it hurt. Those words hurt, to say the word family to something as undeserving as what Gale possessed. "I'll leave some time after your next job and if you're still set on staying, I would like to tell you that regardless of the situation you find yourself in, I will be there. And I will help you if you need my assistance." A Godfather's promise. That went a long ways and very few received it.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2017 3:47:23 GMT -5
This felt like too much, but he backed down when Al said it's nothing. It wasn't nothing; it meant the world to Gale, and had he had worse self-control, he probably would've cried, because he was emotional like that. He was gentle in his movements as he took the rifle and tested the weight of it - his other gun wasn't too heavy, but he knew he'd have to get used to the much lighter weight of this. It was like a feather, in comparison to many other rifles that he'd held. It was well-designed, too; he'd have to test it out later. Hell, now he couldn't wait for the mission coming up, if only to see how this would hold up in one of his usual setups. It was nice, and he liked it already.
"Thank you," his tone was soft and he gently replaced the rifle into its case, closing the lid so that he could focus on the other man, instead. "You don't know how much this means to me."
Perhaps he did! Perhaps Al had an idea, but Gale wanted to express it. At the next words, he lowered his gaze and smiled faintly.
"Alright," he said, leaning back a little and exhaling slowly. It was a surprise - his heart sunk at the thought of Al leaving. "My next job will be starting in two days, though I'm not quite sure when it ends. It could be a long game or a short game," he flicked his gaze away, "that's why I need to be alone."
He didn't know why he was explaining his reasoning behind not allowed Al to come, but he felt like it was the least he could do. Hell, though. He was gonna be sad to see Al go, and the man had only been around for a few days.
"I was trying to think of a proverb we have," he began slowly. "Ψ§ΩΨ¬Ψ§ΩΨ§Ψͺ Ψ£ΨΨ³Ω Ω
Ω Ψ§ΩΨ±Ψ§ΩΨΨ§Ψͺ. I think the translation in French is...what is coming is better than what is gone. I think it fits your situation."
He was glad that he'd thought of the saying; it was something he'd heard his father say directed towards one of his older brothers, but it had never been something that Gale had ever had said to him. It was a first that he was saying it to someone else, too - it felt strange on his tongue but he was glad to say it to Al. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"I'm just glad I could help you," there was something else in his tone, but he couldn't quite pick it up. Maybe it was disappointment at himself - at his lack of ability to leave Sabah. Al was great, but...the Jackals were home. "And if I can help you again in the past, then I would like to be able to."
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 10, 2017 4:12:22 GMT -5
It was touching to be told by Gale that the sniper rifle was highly appreciated, all things considered. He had no doubts the sincerity when Gale had told him that the gift meant a lot to Gale. It broke his heart to some extents. Somehow, he felt as if nobody had ever done a gesture as kind to Gale. Those he had devoted himself to hadn't been bothered to be kind to him.
"It was my pleasure to give this to you," he finally settled on, deciding that 'it was nothing' was far too dismissive of Gale's own emotions. "And like I said," he smiled, the smile reaching his eyes this time around, "It's quite a small price to pay for everything you've done for me."
It was the truth, but still. Listening to Gale speak about his mission, he nodded along in understanding. If he was working and the stint was short, he wouldn't mind somebody coming along, but if it was something more precarious and indefinite, it was best to work alone just in case of complications. Sometimes adding that one extra person made things all the more dangerous. It made it so there was another individual who could mess up somehow. A step out of place in the criminal industry was a terrible, terrible thing. And mistakes weren't tolerated. They were punished. Harshly.
The police, other criminals, twisted vigilantes, they took hold of opportunities of misguidance, failure, and compulsiveness. It was not a forgiving profession and he understood it. "I understand," and he did, "If you need time or space to look over the details or speak of it to Sabah, I can leave for the time being. I still have yet to look around Greece, and I'm starting to think this haircut doesn't quite fit me." He chuckled at the words, shaking his head as he raised a hand to run a hand through his hair. It was different from his usual hairstyle, something new he had wanted to try out, but it was a little too unruly with the wavy texture of his hair.
It didn't look bad, but he was starting to miss his usual haircut. Call him sentimental, it was true, foolishly enough. "If not, you could always bring me to the cafe yourself. There's something charming about cafes that I'd never been able to put my finger on."
It was amazing at times like this, he was unburdened by self doubt and overwhelming guilt. But he knew it wouldn't last for long. Still, he would take what he was given. And this? This was rare, and it felt nice despite being a bittersweet end. It was unfortunate that Gale wasn't going to come with him, but he would wait, see that Gale was certain after his job and leave Greece of his own accord. Maxim had promised to give his contact with Eight. Had said that there was no better duo he could think of than the infamous Ghost - the alias had made him chuckle and shake his head in slight embarrassment - and Eight.
He was better known nowadays as the shame and failure of the Fournier Family like Sabah had mentioned. He knew. And besides, no one truly knew who Ghost was save for him and his acquaintances. It would be a shame to tarnish that good name with his... current affairs. Word spread quickly, people sharpened their knives, and the birds of prey readied their talons. It was just how it was.
But the proverb was well appreciated. He had no idea if it would prove to hold true, if his stupid luck would remain, but he appreciated it nonetheless. "Thank you, I'll remember that," he said softly. Repeating the phrase to himself, his first ever gesture of showing that he knew Arabic, he nodded over it. It sounded pleasant, and he would keep it in mind. It was no mistake, revealing that truth, but a small gesture of solidarity.
"This has been quite a pleasant stay and you're a kind man." He didn't want to stray it back into what Gale deserved and how he was better than Sabah and Jac and the others. Instead he left it be. He hoped the words were enough and that his suggestion would be of more interest. If Gale was uninterested, he had been up the last night on his phone for once, trying to combat his inability to sleep with something other than aggravated attempts at sleeping or alcohol. There was a place, the Archaeological Museum of Piraeus. Though he didn't really understand art, he appreciated the sheer aesthetic value of it and how pleasing it was to look at. A visit wouldn't be that bad, a quiet and nice way to spend his day.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2017 4:33:25 GMT -5
Al was a good man. A very good man. Gale's intentions had been far from wholesome; he'd thought that the man would be useful to Sabah, but now he just wanted to help. It was strange, to go from one thing to another in a matter of days. Perhaps it was from seeing the complete turn that Al had done, the realisation that though Al had been down, he'd been far from out. He'd misjudged, but that wasn't such a bad thing. Being able to help left a warm feeling, but...still. There was a degree of sadness he held with the knowledge that Al had to leave.
"I should probably go over the mission details," he smiled apologetically, brushed a hand through his hair again. "I need to finalise my plans now that I have dates, and then I'm probably going to go with Sabah and scout the area I'm supposed to be in," he flicked his gaze up and laughed quietly. "I think it fits you, but you do you."
That reminded him that his own hair was becoming a little unruly. He could tie it into a tiny ponytail at the base of his neck, which was sort of a huge sign that the undercut was grown out and needed cutting again. He was lazy, though, and haircuts were expensive - so he wouldn't bother for now. When it p*ssed him off enough, he'd go and deal with it, but for now he could look like a rebellious rock star or something like that.
"Piraeus is a good city, but beware of pickpockets," that seemed like a silly thing to say. He was sure Al could handle himself. "They're not supposed to be around, but Dante has a weak spot for orphans and kids that remind him of...himself, so just look out for the kids who are brave enough to approach. There's a stupid high chance that they'll try to steal from you, or that they're trying to distract you."
The Jackals hadn't eradicated crime. If anything, they'd encouraged it, caused hell for the police. That was just how they were. Sabah usually smoothed things over if they were blamed, but it was rare that they were. They were associated with petty crime, not political assassinations, which seemed to be Gale's thing, nowadays.
"Oh, yeah," he stood up and walked over to a little chest of drawers, rummaging past various things (fake documents, mostly; though his real passport was in there too), before he found a little key. He returned and held it out for Al. "If I'm not here when you get back, then this should come in handy."
If he was spending the day scouting, he didn't want to have Al stuck outside his apartment. That was just bad etiquette. And hell, he really wanted to go to the training range, so that would be a reason for him to not be in the apartment, too. "If I'm not back before you, then I'll probably be back by eight tonight, since I have some other errands to run."
Being a Jackal was not, unfortunately, all sitting around and waiting for jobs. Checking the territory for any unwanted gang members was one thing. Patrolling, in general, was just a mess that was split up between them, and it was likely that Jac wanted to shirk his duty if he heard Gale was going to scout (he probably had).
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Sept 10, 2017 5:15:37 GMT -5
Thought Gale's rejection made him feel a tad bit disappointed, he didn't allow it to bother him. Listening to Gale's advice, he nodded his head along with the lull of Gale's words. The advice, though unnecessary, was highly appreciated. He had been in the business of stealing from people for fun, knew better than most what the tricks consisted of and how the sharp bump was just a means to disguise quick hands. He honestly didn't mind giving money to younger children despite all that. Would give it willingly if they came up to him for those intents and purposes. "It's fine then," he said softly, "I had alternative plans in the case my suggestion didn't work out. Good luck with your work."
"And I appreciate all the advice, I will pay attention to the pickpockets" he chuckled, not mentioning that he had wrenched his wallet back from a pickpocket a week ago. The woman would have been more successful if he was drunk, but he wasn't. He had only gotten about two or three drinks into his system and had went outside for a smoke. The rashness of the actions had caused her a sprained wrist, but nothing she wouldn't heal from.
Accepting the keys, he looked at the offering before pocketing it. "Thank you, I'll give the door a knock first just in case you are back," he said, standing up, straightening his jacket as he did so. He didn't bother to mention he was adept at picking locks - actually carried a lockpick set on his personnel at nearly all times - Gale didn't need to know that. Not to mention it would be incredibly rude to just pick somebody's lock whether or not he was allowed to stay there.
They weren't that close. He'd done it to Xingfu, Leopald, Maxim, and a handful of others who were surprised to find him inside and sleeping, but that was because their relationships extended a little past just normal colleagues. Hell, they were all really close friends. He also didn't dwell too hard on the proverb. H e had appreciated it, but it had also bothered him to some extent. As much as he loved and appreciated the friends he had in the time being, none of them were Clement. None of them could ever be Clement, the man was irreplaceable.
He had known Clement for nearly all of his life. Clement had always been a constant whereas not everyone else had been. They came. They went. But Clement never did. Clement had been by his side from the very beginning, from all his endeavors to informing him of Corriveau and the DGSE's betrayal, the man had watched out for him. Taken care of him in ways many wouldn't have. Still.
His hand lingered at the door knob and he glanced up, looking at Gale, "I'll be off then." With the words of departure, he opened the door and left, locking the door behind him. The day was relatively peaceful. He had stopped by a small deli some distance off of Gale's apartment, bought a sandwich, sat down, ate, and left after leaving a generous tip in the tip jar. Then he had stopped by Flovian's barbershop - or at least that was what he had come to think of it - asked for his usual hair cut and had gotten another close razor shave.
The last experience had been nice and given how his hands were still trembling when he had picked up his own razor, he would rather Flovian's steady hands do the job. The man had been kind and equally chatty as the previous time. He spoke for the short time Alphonse was there and he tipped the man greatly for his services, thanking him of it. On his walk to the museum, he had called Maxim, informed him of his weapons broker's behavior and had been told by the Brigadier that the man would be removed and thanked for his information.
The Russian deal was still on the table apparently, and due to his departure being soon, he decided to accept it. It was in two weeks time. He supposed that gave him plenty of time and if Gale wasn't coming, at least Eight - or Artem, as Maxim called him - was a party of interest that was available to his recruitment. The walk to the Museum had proven to be quiet and slow. He took his time, looking at the beautiful sights the city offered while having a casual morning smoke he had skipped during his time giving Gale the gift.
The Archaeological Museum of Piraeus had proven to be beautiful. He spent his time wondering about, looking at this piece and that. One caught his eye in particular, it was a piece titled simply:
Greek pursuing a wounded Amazon (scene of Amazonomachia)."
Marble. Neo-Attic relief panel. Mid-2nd cent. CE.
Inv. No. 2115.
There was a certain air of violence in the image held that captivated him. The agony in the Amazon's posture spoke as much as her obscured features and it caused him to remember his loyal soldiers. Men of honor. They died with that honor in tact. Lowering his head, he sighed heavily. Heavy was the heart of the man who lived. He had been told once that he had developed something of Survivor's Guilt after his time with the 13th. He had been involved in the ChadianβLibyan conflict as a young man, barely twenty one years of age. He had shot a Libyan boy, the child had been holding a grenade that would have killed all of the soldiers involved in the raid. He had been congratulated on the deed, but he hadn't felt like he... had done the right thing.
Nowadays, he knew it had been the right call. It had been a hard call, but the right one nonetheless. Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it on his walk back to Gale's apartment. It was dark outside, but only approximately 7 pm. He knew he would be back before the younger man at any rate. Thinking of the 13th reminded him of the saying they had memorized like a mantra. Above and beyond the possible. It was a surprise how much those words meant to him now and how they kept him on his path. He would not let what people thought of him confine him to the grounds.
Reaching the front door of Gale's apartment, he let himself in. It had eluded him how quiet the apartment was when it was just him alone. How quiet his life was when he was alone. Taking the time to make a dish of TΓͺte de Veau, he almost expected Gale to return by the time he was done. The young man wasn't. Sighing, he sat in wait with a bottle of red wine. Twenty minutes later when the food had gotten considerably less hot, he ate and washed his own plate and utensils and cup. He left the wine out and the food on the table.
Heading into the bedroom, he took a quick shower and settled down for the night. It scared him to some degree how familiar Gale's presence had become and how lonely it was without him. Strange. He would have to be cautious of that.
Closing his eyes, he sighed heavily as he tried to sleep. He knew almost instinctively sleep was not going to come easily, but... it was what it was.
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