King of the LARPers

[Jaxen Marveet]

“Alright, alright, no need to get handsy,” he shrugged off the officials from yanking on his arm and walked off the field with his head held high. The sword was still in hand as he caught many an eye watching the parade. The expressions of the witnesses ranged from disappointment to awe to solidarity, but when he heard one guy lean to his friend and comment on the sword’s Irish style, Jaxen gave it a little waggle and then beckoned them to follow. The two seemed surprised, like the celebrity in their midst had actually noticed the regular folk, and they followed.

Once safely off the field, Jaxen’s disqualification became all the more real. The bastards even took away his arm band! Jaxen’s glare eventually eased, and he waved the two nerds up to join him and Mik.

“That’s an incredible replica,” the first guy said as he came up, gesturing at the sword. He was wearing a sleeveless, renaissance-style blue tunic, faux-bracers wrapped his forearms, and a sword belt wrapped his narrow waist. Despite the cool outfit, he looked about twenty, with a scraggly beard patched across his jaw to match his age. His friend looked about the same age, but he was wearing a Celtic style robe with a hood up around pointy ears. He had a white wig on and cool contacts that turned his eyes black.

“It’s not a replica,” Jaxen said, hefting the thing, which was a lot heavier than it looked.

“It’s a real Irish sword? Did you have it commissioned?” the dark elf said, coming closer. Jaxen held it up, but didn’t let the guy take it.

“It’s definitely authentic. I was in Ireland when I found it,” he said. Technically, it was Naga underalterworld, but Ireland counts.

“Found it?” They exchanged looks.

“Found, yes. Though you could say it was bestowed upon me in a contest of champions.”

The two suddenly laughed like they finally caught on. “That’s a great backstory. Seriously though, good find.”

Jaxen quirked a brow. Why was it when he told people the truth, they assumed he was making shit up? But since they were on a roll, he went on.

“It’s a magic sword, but I can’t seem to activate its powers. Any ideas?”

The dark elf pursed his lips. “Could be a sword of destiny. Only the right hand can activate its latent powers.”
His friend added on: “Maybe it’s cursed.”

Jaxen didn’t like either of those two options, so he let them spit ball some more.
“Could require a spell of awakening.”
“Or maybe it has to be moved through an activation form.”
“If it’s a magic sword, could require magic itself to activate it.”

Jaxen jumped in. “What kind of magic?”

“Incantation… spell… or simple approximation to its main force element.”

He was about to tune them out and give up on this whole endeavor in favor of Mikhail’s vodka when that last suggestion made him think.

“Approximation to … like what?”

“Maybe there’s a sister object that it requires the bearer to have. Like an amulet, crystal, or a touchstone.”

Then the dark elf rubbed his chin in thought, eyes squinting. “Maybe it’s not meant to be used as a sword at all.”
Jaxen blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know the legend of the twelve swords of power? Here-” He pulled out a very modern looking Wallet from a pocket deep in the robe and typed in a few commands. A moment later, he was showing the screen to Jaxen, who scanned the content. As Jaxen took the Wallet, he heard the two guys say in unison: "ARDNEH be praised" then they had a laugh like it was an inside joke he was oblivious to understand. Fucking nerds. 

The sword of fortune brings luck to whoever wields it.

The Sword of Justice can turn aside any attack or spell meant to harm the wielder and send it back to the attacker instead.

The Sword of Heroes allows its wielder to kill dragons and immortal beasts. 

The Sword of Vengeance can kill any person, demon, or god the wielder wishes, regardless of the physical distance that separates them or the level of protection they enjoy. 

The Sword of Mercy can heal any injury or ailment, regardless of severity or how long ago it was inflicted. It can even grow back severed limbs or heal massive trauma.

The Sword of Madness sends shards of poisoned light into the minds of anyone who views the drawn blade in the hands of its wielder.

The Sword of Force provides absolute protection from all other weapons.

The Sword of Stealth changes the perception of anyone looking at the owner, making the wielder appear as someone the viewer knows and trusts, and allowing them to move freely wherever they choose.

The Sword of Despair causes a wave of despair that induces a deep lethargy, making anyone affected by it simply give up on life.

The Sword of Siege can cut through any stone or mineral-based formation as easily as it would pass through air.

The Sword of Fury turns its wielder into an impenetrable wall of bladed steel, but only in an enclosed area and only in defense of the defenseless. 

The Sword of Wisdom can be used by the wielder to find any location or any object they wish, without error, even leading them to the items and people necessary to complete their quest.

In all his research, he’d never heard anything like this.

He turned back, noting the site so he could read further. “What do you think a Sword of Light would do?”

The two nerds exchanged looks.

The ranger guy spoke up. “Well, if it glows, it’s certainly going to be powerful. Teleportation maybe? A light to fight against darkness?”

Then the dark elf nodded. “A counter-spell. Like the Sword of Force. Maybe that’s the key. It’s not activating because it’s a defensive weapon only. Get attacked by a dark wizard and see if the sword will parry the spells.”

Jaxen scrubbed his chin in thought.

Then, he clapped both guys on the shoulder. “Thanks, guys. You nerds have a good one,” he said and gestured for Mik that it was time for vodka.

After a few steps, Jaxen leaned. “Know any dark wizards?” and laughed. Then they made their way to the nearest bar.





(Sorry for the slow response. Been toiling over what I wanted the nerds to reveal)

[Mikhail]

As far as swords went, Jaxen's was quite nice. Course he could only comment on the one he could see. But he imagine that being a billionaire and all that, he probably went for whatever beauty treatments they had for dicks. What that could be, he couldn't begin to guess. Maybe some lotion made from ground up seals from the Galapagos Islands. Washed in water tapped from the purest mountain mountain in the Himalaya's after some Yogi blessed it by kissing the ground for 10 days. Who the fuck knew what the rich and famous got up to. Himself, he preferred the off the shelf lubes and some regular loving attention from whomever was willing. And as far as he could tell, his dick looked as youthful as as ever, so he must be doing something right.

Anyway, but Jax's sword was pretty cool. At least for a moment. Certainly drew out the nerd patrol. Sadly, the only ones that ended up joining them weren't anyone he'd write home about. Not that he wrote. And not that he had anyone to write to. But certainly no one give more than a brief once over. Why it couldn't have been in the Elf Queen or the dude in the tunic and tight pants. I mean hey, the more the merrier, right? All of them drinking vodka? Some of the best times he couldn't remember started with vodka and strangers.

But Goofus and Galant engaged with Jaxen about the sword. At first, he thought Jaxen was shining them on. But then, not so much. The guy seemed to be really into his sword- and not in the normal way. And for the first time, Mik really looked at it, Wasn't really that much different than others he'd seen. There had been that moment, though, when he was playing around with the power and the Lady seemed to be goading him. 

Seriousness came over him for a moment and he listened. Jaxen was definitely interested in what the sword could do. Aside from the whole stabby bit. Mik cast about for a moment and then said fuck it and seized the power again. The smells from Galant and Goofus were not pleasant, that was for sure. But whatever body wash and hair treatment Jaxen used lessened the intrusion. And it wasn't like he hadn't been the sewage tunnels before and had to pay Nova extra to get his leather jacked cleaned within an inch of its life. 

But with the power, he looked at the blade and...well, it was still a blade. Yeah, he could see the detail now. Like the difference between a fuzzy picture and zoomed in high quality. But it was still...flat. Still, it was strangely beautiful. Patterns and such, some he recognized and some he didn't. Without thinking a small hair wide thread of fire began to float towards it and then- he stopped. For some reason, he just didn't want to touch it with the power.

Yeah, the two dorks were talking about it being activated by magic. And it turned out- to his great pleasure- that magic was real. And it wasn't like he wasn't impulsive or curious. But he just didn't want to do it. It felt...dangerous. And not the good kind.

He looked up and the Lady- Nadyia this time- was staring, expectantly. He looked around. Ok, so it wasn't like he was a chicken shit. But it seemed like she wanted him to do it. Maybe she did and maybe she was surprised he'd been about to. But not here. Not the park, anyway. He let the power drain away.

Jaxen seemed satisfied and Mik shook off the strange feeling. He clapped him on the shoulder. "Enough with the nerds. Let's drink. I know a place." It wasn't all hoity-toity. It wasn't a shit hole either. The Blue Hound was just a place to get a drink. Thought it was upscale, though. Not always a lot of info to pick up. Mostly business folks and the like. But he wasn't on duty anyway. Wouldn't break his bank, at least, not for now. Jaxen had to slum it anyway, at times, he was sure. If not, well, there was a first time for everything.

The bartender- head shaved so that only blonde stubble showed, tattoos running down each side of her neck down into their shirt- looked up for a moment, only briefly pausing on Jaxen's clothing. No comment, though. Money was money and alcohol was alcohol.

He did splurge and go for the top shelf- at least for this place. She left the bottle after pouring. He raised his glass. "za zda-ró-vye" The icy wash down his through burned in that beautiful way. Then, "So what's a billionaire doing fucking around with the park nerds?"

[Jaxen Marveet]

The bar was middle of the road. Not shitty enough to be a regular dive. Probably no illegal recs being dealt behind the bar. Definitely not the kind of place to hook up in the bathroom. Then again, last time he was in a place like that, he was almost eaten by one of Sybaris’s relatives. Major buzz kill. Best lay of his life was after that, though. Ahh, Zef. That made him wonder when their next round was. Damn. But imagine Jaxen having to actually keep a calendar for something! It was worth it though. He downloaded the calendar app just for that one date.

So the bar wasn’t a dive like devil’s lair, but neither was it dripping in gold like Manifesto. It wasn’t a nightclub. But at the door, Jaxen surveyed the entrance with hands on his hips and a sword belted at his leg. He found the sparkling bottles behind the bar satisfactory, though, and followed Mik to their stools. The first round was on him, as promised.

“Bóodeem zdaróvye!” he replied, clunked the glass on the bartop and knocked it back. It wasn’t a thousand dollar bottle of vodka, not like the one he wasted on Toma, but it did the job just fine enough for Jaxen. Next round he ordered a glass, on ice, with lime like a proper Russian boy. That he sipped.

He guffaw’d at the question. “Bah, i’m no billionaire. My father is, but hell if I am. My trust has been shut off so many times I don’t even know if I will wake up tomorrow with a dollar to my name. But no point worrying about it today, eh brother?!” he laughed.

“You can say I was suckered on a bait and switch to go,” he pulled the wallet from the pocket of his snug pants and showed Mikhail the advertisement that lured him in the first place. Hot princess elf girl was featured prominently.

“And some research… Nerds know the most about this kind of shit, and well, I was out of ideas,” he pat the sword which was still prominently belted at his waist. The tip of it kept banging into the stool when he moved. “Seriously? How are you suppose to sit around with one of these on?” He smirked. “You though? You a regular or something?” 

[Mikhail]

Jaxen"s comment about his pop's and his trust was tucked away. Not that he thought it was particularly useful. At least, not in any way he could see. No, rather it was just another bit of confirmation. The highs and the lows. 

The fact that Jaxen didn't bitch about it or complain and instead just took it as a matter of course pushed him up in Mik's oh so great opinion. With a half smile on his lips, he lightly hit the bar with his fist in acknowledgement. "Dude, you get it, man. Most people don't." His smile became a grin. "Bah. Life would be too boring, otherwise." He lifted his glass, briefly peering off across the bar, saluting the Lady- Alexya's face this time. "Lady Fortuna may fuck you over in the end. But you can't say it wasn't exciting. Especially if you learn to dance with her."

He rolled his eyes at the Elf Queen. "Fucking click bait! Or whatever. She was hot, though." He gestured at the warrior next to her. "Both of them. Bring out the nerd wannabes in droves, anyway."

Jaxen was struggling with that sword. Mik had a shit eating grin and leaned over. "Dude, quit playing with it in public, man." Of course he was joking.

But it was also almost a law. Like in the 10 commandments or something. The Bible anyway. Like the golden rule. Thoueth shalllt always bust on your bros. Busting balls was the highest form of flattery.

To his question, "Sort of. I'm a regular most everywhere. Dives and nice places and everywhere in between. Always good places to listen and learn. Make connections. Know what's what. Information is always valuable."

He glanced again at the sword, thinking at what those clowns had said, the interest Jaxen had shown, and his own reaction. He looked Jaxen in the eye. "What about you? It wasnt the Elf Queen. I'm sure you could have gotten any number of girls into cosplay. It's not that hard at all. You said you came down to grill them about your sword. What's the deal with it?"

He was definitely curious.

[Jaxen Marveet]

After fiddling with the sword just to get comfortable, Mik’s taunt bubbled up genuine laughter. Which well, Jaxen laughed often, but usually at other people’s expense or with gleeful anime for his own antics. Genuinely laughing at an unexpected quip wasn’t a frequent response because lets be serious here, most people just weren't that funny.

Jaxen nodded in complete and full understanding of what it meant to be a regular everywhere. It took a certain level of fluidity to saunter into Manifesto the same week as crashing in a shitty hotel. Not that Jaxen preferred the latter, but variety was the spice of life after all. It’s a wonder he hadn’t run across Mikhail before now, cut from the same cloth as they were.

As far as the sword went, he wasn’t particularly protective of its secrets. Not as much as he was of possessing it. He’d not hand it over, not after working so damn hard to get it in the first place, but he found that telling the truth usually resulted in people accusing him of the most outrageous lies. Since Mik traded in information, maybe he’d heard a thing or two about a thing or two. So Jaxen took his shot.

“This bad boy is the product of a game of champions if you will. I beat that shit-eating grin off Aiden Finnegan - the rock star? - after we were both abducted by these snake alien people and transported to some other world where we had to fight one another to the death. Clearly since Aiden is still out there walking around in his tight pants and making out with everyone under the sun, he’s not dead, but fight we did, and this was the prize.” He pat the sword hanging along his leg.

"A piece of advice. Do not get abducted by snake aliens. They'd do the weirdest shit to a good looking guy like you, comrade."

[Mikhail]

Mik took a deep pull on his vodka, the familiar buzz that told him he was operating at a billion percent present. He needed to maintain that, after all. Alcohol lubricated the brain, after all. But as anyone could tell you, too much lube was a problem. Made standing or holding firm or onto someone or something damn near impossible. Slipping off a high bed on to tiled floor was no fun, let me tell you. Plus, made it near impossible to feel anything. Morons lathered themselves up like they were on a slip and slide. Or going to give a nuru massage. Sliding all around just fine until you slid your self off to rug burns and bruises and a heel to his cheek that one time. Pain was normally part of the game. But heels to the face not so much. No sir, you had to be...judicious- yes, that was the word his wonderfully peaked brain brought him- in your usage of lube. 

Goldilocks that shit.

What was he thinking about? Oh yeah, his brain and alcohol and making him think clearer. That was it. So any way, he took his pull and stared at Jaxen, trying to make heads or tails of what he was talking about. I mean, sure magic was real and all. And it wasn't like he didn't see Lady Fate on the regular. But snake aliens? He'd almost bet Jaxen was fucking with him. And not in the way he'd enjoy, either.

No. As he looked at the man, he could see that Jaxen was telling the truth. Or rather, Jaxen didn't really care if he believed him. He said it and that was it. He didn't seem to want to be asked a story nor did he bait the conversation. Mik knew about that. He did it all the time. Usually in the other direction. Best way to get someone talking was to talk about something either similar to or the exactly the opposite of what you were angling for. Then gingerly steer it around the topic without every mentioning it so that it practically screamed in the other person's mind. It reminded him of Si Wang Mu's art. Definition with negative spaces. The image or idea was in the blank places, the emptiness that was carefully constructed. You provided the element. And it worked. Real good.

He knew all the tricks to pull information out of people. Jaxen used none of them. He believed what he said and he said what he said. 

Which meant he was either delusional or it had happened. He liked delusional. That could be fun. Not like rich folk were immune to that. In some ways, they could be just as fucked up as anyone else. But he'd never gotten that impression about Jaxen. His routine at Kallisti had been legendary. The jabs at the Ass-endancy had been thoughtful and brilliant. He'd wished he'd been their to see it in person rather than on a surreptitiously recorded holo. The moron who took it couldn't figure out how to hold it steady. 

His finger absently tapped on the bar as he thought. "Snake aliens?" He laughed. He didn't think Jaxen would hold back, but he decided to prod a bit. "You were hanging around with Aiden Finnegan, right? From Blarney Stone? He's a writer of fantasy shit, now, right? You sure he wasn't fucking with you? I mean, if there are snake aliens around, then....well...the world just became that much more awesome!"

The grin on his face said he was being completely honest.

[Jaxen Marveet]

Jaxen's eyes twinkled mischievously as he absorbed Mikhail's response, sensing an opportunity to amplify the awe. With a theatrical flair, he set his vodka glass down and leaned back, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Ah Mikhail, you have quite the imagination! But let me assure you, this is no fantasy spun by Aiden Finnegan's pen,” Jaxen replied, his voice filled with anticipation.

With a flick of his wrist, Jaxen channeled the Ancient Power, conjuring a grand illusion beside them into the form of a life-sized Naga, towering beside them in all its majestic glory. The creature's gleaming scales shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence, and its serpentine body undulated like a cobra rising from the basket.

"There it is," Jaxen declared, his voice filled with pride even as disgust curled his lip.

The illusory Naga loomed above them, casting an ominous shadow across the bar. Its slanted eyes glimmered with an ancient knowledge, and the intricate details of its scaled form seemed almost tangible. Even as the creature was his to command, he looked upon it with unease.

"Now, Mikhail, tell me this wouldn’t make you piss your pants if it curled its head around your shoulder... It sinks its fangs into the flesh of your neck, and you wake up trapped in a world filled with them. Some slithering larger than a building. Others walking on two legs like a man. And the women…don't get me started on the women.” His gaze fixed upon the other man, unsure if he was turned on by the memory or wanted to run for his life. Nope, definitely the latter. 

About then, there was a yell and a barstool was hurled through the creature’s shimmery form. The disturbance caused the illusion to dissipate in a thousand shimmering particles. Jaxen only grabbed his drink to protect it from harm and upon twisting around, found the disturbed face of one terrified bartender. To whom he triumphantly lifted his glass. “Well done,” and laughed.

[Mikhail]

So Jaxen did like telling stories. Or rather, he liked to be watched telling stories, that much was obvious. In truth, it made Mik question his initial assessment. He was honest enough to admit that just because he played games with people didn't mean that he was immune. Those tricks worked for a reason. That reason being that we were all meat puppets with handles and strings and levers. And for once, he didn't mean in the fun way. No. He was realistic.

So he was prepared to doubt...and then a sense of dread came over him. It was such an alien feeling that he had a hard time recognizing it what it was at first. Just an sense like something was wrong, that somebody was crowding behind him, threatening. Now normally, in those few times he felt that, his back went up, defiance reared and he dug in his heels, ready to make someone pay dear for the any flesh they decided to take. You might kill me, but you weren't gonna walk away without something to remember me by.

Thing was, it seemed to come from Jaxen who sitting there drinking his vodka as if nothing happened. Or nothing was going on. He narrowed his eyes but before he could react, the air seemed to shiver and a massive...snake thing was standing there, looming over them. He started back for just a moment before he realized Jaxen was doing this. Somehow it was the same trick as what he did in the park. Maybe it had been all the jumping around and exertion before, cuz he sure as fuck hadn't felt this feeling then. 

He closed the mouth he didn't realize had dropped open and studied the thing. It seemed solid enough- it cast a shadow- but no life stirred, no chest movements or anything. Like a dummy or something. He reached out his hand and it seemed to pass through. Not solid despite the shadow. Jaxen's words finally penetrated his brain and his gaze swung between him and it.

He wasn't even sure what to think. Snake people as big as a building, walking around? 

Now you might be thinking that he was so dumbstruck by what he saw that he wasn't himself. And you, my friend, would be wrong. Because despite Jaxen's obvious reaction, he raised his left eyebrow and half smiled. "Snake women, you say? Now that could be interesting..." he mused. He loved body modding. Horned implants and forked tongues, the sexy blend of human animal definitely got him purring like a cat.

Yeah, Mik was back. The bartender screamed and Jaxen let it disappear into the light, sparkly sparkles and all, and he watched them fade. "Man, you need to show me where to meet them. I'd like to see some shit like that." He paused, thinking. Story or no- as in, the fact that Jaxen had enjoyed telling the tale didn't mean it wasn't something special he'd shared. Mik was all about information. And he had learned something wonderful. 

And he realized in that moment that he liked Jaxen. Genuinely. Not in the get back to his place and fuck each other's brains out- though of course he'd like that. But he actually liked him. He didn't feel that often. So, turn about...he took another drink and started talking."You show me this world is more than it seems. I mean, yeah, magic and stuff." He leaned over and said, "And make no mistake, I'd love to learn that trick of yours." He swirled his drink, stared into it for a moment. "I want to see it. The lady behind this world is chaos. She plays no permanent favorites. All we can hope fore is to run with her a little while." He looked across the bar and she stood there, Oriena's face staring at him, curiously. 

He threw back the drink, the vodka burning his throat anew in the way he loved. Then he looked at Jaxen. "Me, I want to see it all. Everything wonderful and terrible and beautiful and terrifying, do everything while I'm here. Plant a kiss on Ascendancy's lips and then smack him in the back of the head. Burn a building to the ground and watch the fire in all its glory. Sneak into the most secret place on earth, steal the biggest treasure, and then leave a note saying I was here. Have some fun at the Almaz fighting some monster. Fuck every hot girl and guy and everything beyond and between- especially a snake woman."

He looked at Jaxen for a bit. "I bet you have some stuff on your list. You game?"

[Jaxen Marveet]

Jaxen was heartily amused by the reaction to his conjured snake, though he was glad to be rid of the burden of actually looking at it. One would think the female figures would be better, but his soul shivered just to imagine them. Mikhail could have a field day, though. In fact, Jaxen would drive him to the field himself. So long as it was in a supercar that sped out fast enough should a naga actually show themselves. Mikhail’s merriment left a twinkle in Jaxen’s eye, like the other Russian was the fire and Jaxen the poker to Mik’s 'log'. Well, the guy could only be so lucky.

“I’ve no interest in finding another snake, but if you’re in the mood, first time one found me was with a gun to my head and I thought my brains were going to water the flowers. The second time was following around Aiden traipsing through the hills in Ireland. No rhyme or reason to when they show up, but I hope for the best for you.” He shoved at Mik’s leg with his foot like a clap on the shoulder, only he didn’t think he could lean over again and not get tangled up in the sword.

With the sound of a toast coming on, Jaxen tapped his glass on the bar and tipped the liquid back with a satisfied gasp that warmed his belly. He was looking around when an idea trickled through his pleasantly floating mind. Oh he wasn’t drunk. It’d take twenty such drinks to get him drunk. It was a perk of practicing since he was eight, though his mother seemed to always be able to gauge her son’s sobriety.

“Hey, what’s Almaz?” he thought he knew all the best places in town, but this was a name that hadn’t yet crossed his path.

[Mikhail]

He took another sip as Jaxen recounted his story. He tilted his head, staring at the ice in his glass, the beads of condensation that formed, idly feeling it with his fingertips, thinking. About what? Well, as to that, he couldn't rightly put his finger on it. He wasn't one to worry too much about life or anything. Knowing what he knew, looking for meaning was frankly a circle jerk of wasted effort.

Life was what it was. 

Or rather, meaning was a fool's errand.

On the other hand, finding new places to play, new things to explore, well...why wouldn't he be interested? "Well, I could probably get us going in a fast car. You could too for that matter. And getting someone to put a gun to my head is cake. I got like five people who'd probably do it if I asked." He barked a laugh."Probably one or two who'd do it without me asking." His smile darkened and his voice became a little sharper. "If they thought they'd get away with it." That little bitch Pytor from the Kolos, for example. But he didn't have the balls and so Mik didn't worry.

He took another drink. "But plenty of folks drive fast or feel steel on the back of their heads without hooking up with snake people. So I guess that's not a sure thing." He tapped Jaxen's shoulder lightly. "But maybe hook a guy up if you are gonna go off with Aiden Finnegan. He's fucking hot." He laughed, as if it were a joke. Fame and celebrity didn't interest him. Sure, for a lay or whatever. Maybe. Mostly out of curiosity. Or bragging rights. But being in the public eye didn't stop you from being a slouch in sack if that is what you already were. Sometimes it made it worse, even, if that were possible.

But Aiden could be an exception. And at least he'd have the experience.

Anyway, back to bar. Jaxen's nudge of the foot was friendly. Best part of a bar was when you made a connection with people. Those little threads seemed to form fairly easily and he just sort of gathered them up into himself. Wasn't really something he thought about. But there they were and easy enough to pluck at and pull on.

Like right now for example. Jaxen wanted to know about the Almaz. Ok. So first things first. Because Mik needed to get this on the record. "So wait. How's a rich little queen ike you not know about the Almaz? You must've pissed someone off big time for everyone to keep it a secret from you."

So now, normally he would pull on one of those threads- in this case Elena de Armas, and give her a little call to swing an opening into Almaz. He did all right, mostly, but the cover for Almaz was a bit more than he had most times. But Elena owed him a few favors. And she was sweet on him in that old lady kinda way. Which wasn't to say he didn't enjoy her even if she was nearing 40. Old wine and alla that. And she never wanted more from him that the occasional favor, anyway. That and maybe a bit of arm candy when she wanted to be daring, and of course a little of the other fun stuff. The cover price was probably about what she spent on bread for the week too, so not like it bothered her.

But then again, Jaxen..."Trust me when I say it is definitely a club we should visit. I mean the hotties are a great reason. The help, of course. But people like to dress...." He thought for a moment. "Well, they like to be daring when there will be blood, I'll tell you that."

And then his smile became a wide grin. "Oh yeah, man. The games and fights are what it's about. I've got a friend who normally hooks me up. But if your family hasn't disowned you, we'd probably be able to get in without issue." 

He shrugged, checking his wallet for the time. "Probably have something good going on tonight. You down?"