Money In Progress (Nebesa's Gate Casino)

[Maksim Marveet]

A Thursday night. Not so far from the weekend to make his visit remarkable. At least, not by those in his inner circle. For the valet, doorman, coat check, teller, server and dealer...? Maksim was a familiar face. Almost as familiar as if he signed his bills Vasiliev rather than Marveet.

Maksim strolled through the casino floor like an arrow on target. He stopped part-way to respond to an email that inconveniently popped up. The reply was short. He relied on auto-grammar and auto-spelling to convert what emerged from his fingers into legibility. Then he continued on his way without interruption.

He came straight from the office wearing the same suit from the day’s work. The true blue suit slicked him with a fashion-forward look without sacrificing panache. The color was spectacular against the intense set of his gaze. He paired it with a crisp white shirt heavily starched, red polka-dot tie and matching pocket square. His hair was a mop of curls pushed back from his forehead about a hundred times throughout the course of the day. The fit was trendy and close to his form. He looked like money, and the reaction he earned from the casino staff made him feel like it too. There were hundreds of people milling about the common floor. Some were dressed up and some were casual, but there was a reason he strolled straight through the crowd. No need for Maksim to check in at the teller’s window. He deserved a better level of service and frankly, a better level of player.

He walked to the high-limit room and was greeted by the occupants inside through doors that were opened for him upon arrival. 

A short conversation with the host told him about some of the current games in progress. Due to his longevity and the fact he was married into the family, Maksim’s personal comp rate was significantly higher than probably most people in the room. Even before marrying Alina, his rebates kicked in at half a million, a hefty sum sooner than the average. Of course, easily plying 200-400-600 k a night into the casino made up for the rebates long term. Still, he appreciated the gesture. So the host graciously offered a suggestion of which game he might enjoy most. He thanked him for the information.

“I didn’t eat lunch today,” he told the host then delivered precise instructions for what he wanted for dinner. His usual drink was in hand before he reached the table.

The game he joined was already in progress, and he filled in the fifth seat. Two of the four faces he recognized with a nod. The others were soon to be introduced.

[Xander]

Xander hated walking into a place that was fortified. He hated security cameras and guards and all that. For obvious reasons. He had to forgo the usual tricks that would keep the security cams from identifying him and go old school if he wanted to work a con that targeted those in places like Manifesto and Nebesa's Gate Casino. They'd never even let him in if they didn't pick up the image on their scans at the door. Thankfully Xander was a pro at altering his physical appearance just enough that no one put one and one together until it was too late and he was gone.

Moscow as thriving with rich money and he'd yet to take a dime of it. That had to change!

But first he had to spend money to make money. Or at least that was how Kristian Osterhagen felt about life and everything around him. Kristian Osterhagen, the fence. A man who dealt with nothing but the best. He wore the finest clothes -- and today was no different. Kristian was perfectly well kept, perfect business man out for a little gambling. Who better to take money from than people so willing to risk it to the house. They might spend it on something a bit more tangible if just as risky.

Stories were easy to fabricate. Identities even more so -- and in Moscow he found even more reliable hackers to do all the necessary work. And some of them -- one in particular -- hardly charged for the job. Which was concerning -- but the work was above par -- so much so Xander made sure he contacted The Wicked Truth first before hitting up anyone else. Speed and accuracy and the added benefits of being cheap that was something he really liked.

In the high rollers room -- which had taken Kristian a few months of work to get into but he made it. Selling his story of looking for pieces of exquisite art for his buyer -- who no one had seen or heard of but Noah was a recluse -- it was the best persona he had yet. Noah could be anyone and everyone.

Today's game was Texas Hold 'em. It was his turn and he matched the bet and raised another grand. The Ace and King of Diamonds were face up and Kristian had the two black aces in his hand along with the Queen of Diamonds. And the dealer just flipped the Queen of Spades to the table. He already had an Ace high full house with still two cards left to go. He could still get that Royal Flush, but those weren't good odds. Xander glanced around the table at dropping his shields just enough to check out his opponent's auras. They were all muted colors and none of them was in for a winning streak tonight -- no silver surrounded a sole in the place. The house was going to be a big winner tonight.

[Sofia Vasilieva]

Pavel (Pasha) Vasiliev

In one of the private suites, Pavel sat amongst associates, suited and stern-faced. When a messenger was allowed through the armed men at the door to whisper into his ear, he frowned and glanced at his watch. He did not involve himself in his sister’s marriage, though sometimes he perceived it as not much more than little Linochka with a bright-eyed puppy tight in her stubborn grip. But in the current climate she needed a husband, not a pet. “Alina?” he queried, and nodded at the answer given as to her whereabouts and safety. His sister had never been part of the turbulent undercurrent of family business, and he preferred to keep it that way. She would not know that family security had been tightened of late, and Pasha would not be so remiss as to preclude a sibling who nonetheless had a family and protector of her own. He held a rather dismal view of a man who chose his kicks before familial duty though. Maksim ought to have at least gone home first. If anything ever happened to Alina, and his fault or negligence lay at its root, not even Scion Marveet would be able to protect him from Vasiliev vengeance. 

A number of recent, low-key deaths had changed the field of play; that being the cause of concern, and the theme of the meeting. A home invasion gone wrong, was the official line. But the Syndicate’s leaders had been decimated. Who or why was not yet known, but someone was sure to sweep in the vacuum. In the meanwhile Pasha aimed to shore up the connections and alliances Yun Kao’s death left flapping in the wind.

[Maksim Marveet]

As soon as the dealer indicated the round was past, Maksim joined the table. The server folded the napkin for his drink to avoid dampening the felt, to which Maksim showed his gratitude with a tip. He hadn’t played Hold’Em in a while, but the energy was right among the players according to the host. Maksim always took the recommendation when offered.

He nodded politely to the other players. Each of them paused long enough to sip their own drinks, and they took the opportunity to shake hands. It was the proper thing to do. A gentleman’s game.

“Maksim Marveet,” he said to each of them in turn. Andrei and Leonid were regulars. The three of them basically traded money. The other two were foreign. A man with an accent so thick, Maksim barely registered the name. They dealt with Asians at work often, but he never really grasped the nuances of their names.

The other was also foreign. They shook hands, “Maksim,” he added again. He didn't linger on the man long, except noting that he was European, Swedish or something like that.

The first game was over fast. The 20k fell like sand through his fingers. No big deal.

[Xander]

The new face at the table introduced himself and Xander took the man's hand. "Kristian Osterhagen." He said with a smile.

Since finding the Casino he'd put his effort into studying the ins and outs of the people behind the scenes as well as the dealers and other employees. He followed the trails and the auras where the biggest hit my be. Maksim Marveet was hardly worth the effort -- his gambling might be used but Kristian wasn't a loan shark or someone who offered up more cash, no he wanted to sell and big gamblers like him probably wouldn't take the bite unless it meant something more to him -- which might be doable. Maybe... Xander thought to himself. But it needed to be a big score, dropping money in the casino took a hit to his bank roll. Though Xander typically only spent as much as he made at the table with an added cap of his own money. He had a building pot of credits, but it might be time to lose a few more hands. All in the sake of maintaining the role.

Kristian donned his best smile and turned it for the dealer. "So my new friends," he included the dealer in his smile. "Who knows who painted the painting on the back wall? Someone local? And is it for sale?"

[Maksim Marveet]

Like the others, Maksim followed the line of sight to the far wall with Kristian. He’d passed by the art hung there a hundred times but never really glanced at it. Now that his gaze was leveled upon the piece, he found it to be unremarkable, which explained why he’d never remarked on it before. There was no plaque to display the artist, so Maksim retrieved his wallet from inside the pocket of his jacket and snapped a picture.

After the wallet did its work, he showed the screen to Kristian. “Tilt your Wallet and I’ll send the info,” he asked casually, then he leaned aside and added an additional answer. He smiled at the other players as he said, “Everything’s for sale,” and the group laughed.

[Xander]

Xander grumped inside his head. He could have done all that himself. It wasn't about the painting itself but the conversation. But as Kristian he tilted the new wallet in the direction of the eldest Marveet son and took the offered information. And he laughed at the comment with the others. "So what's your price? If everything is for sale?" he quipped in return.

"Though that's not really the question is it? What would you pay if there were scandalous images of you or some family member doing atrocities that could harm the fabric of society as we know it? As an example, a complete fabrication, of course," Kristian waved his hand as if to dismiss the claim as false, and then pointed as he spoke. "His wife, your wife, all the wives, doesn't matter, it's rhetorical, getting frisky with the American Presidential forerunner."

[[ooc sorry for the slow reply didn't know where to go and then it went someplace I didn't completely intend exactly ]]

[Maksim Marveet]

Andrei and Leonid were both Moscow businessmen. Each were obscenely rich, which explained their presence. Andrei was in his forties about Maksim’s age. Leonid, on the other hand, was in his seventies, overweight and mostly bald. He had a rich Russian laugh that most heartily responded to the quip about everything being for sale.

It was old Leonid that responded to Kristian’s question. “Oh young man,” he interrupted before Maksim could. Frankly, it wasn’t difficult. Maksim was quite taken aback by the suggestion that he might be blackmailed, or worse, that he already had been subject to blackmail.

Leonid luckily took the hit. “Little Maksim here is not old enough for that nasty business… not yet, are we young Maksim?” he laughed loud and boisterous. Then he reached across the table and clunked their drinks together in a toast. Max didn’t usually swallow his drinks in one gulp, but tradition demanded it else he risked offending the older Russian. The man was friends with his father from back in the day.

As soon as he put the glass down, though, he realized something was wrong. Leonid broke out into a sweat. His face turned pale. He sat back, then gasped like he couldn’t get a breath. Max stared in misunderstanding.

Then Leonid promptly fell out of his chair and toppled to the floor. Maksim and the other players rose to their feet. The dealer rushed around, and the host was already calling emergency services.

Maksim backed away from the table shocked and horrified when it was clear that Leonid was already dead. It was suddenly very hot, but loosening his tie did not help. 

He backed up to another table and sank into one of the empty seats. "I don't... I don't feel good.." he uttered, feeling like he was going to be sick. Meanwhile, Andrei was standing back. Their fifth player, the Asian, was already leaving.

[Maksim Marveet]

((Mark of a good thread when it goes someplace you don't expect. Bet you didn't expect that to happen either? *Grin))

[Xander]

The fuck?

Xander let his shields down. A man keeling over next to his was definitely not in the cards. Fuck! All these godforsaken special people around he'd locked up too tight and he was missing shit. Where the fuck were the days that he saw this shit coming! He was pissed.

Kristian jumped out of his chair and looked around the room examining every person he spied. The man was clearly dead. The dealer didn't have an aura of death, no one left had the distinct aura of a killer, but the man leaving the game, the asian clearly did. Xander tried to grab a reading but he was out of sight before he could clearly see anything. And he was being pushed out of the way so they could tend to the already dead man.

Maksim was sitting in a chair, he looked pale and about to get sick. "First time seeing a dead man, or...." Shit! Fuck! If this was murder.... FUCK! There was no way out of this. And any means of reaching out to his contacts to clean up his identity was definitely going to go down in the records. Kristian wasn't more than an identity. There was no paper trail, no digital footprint, he just popped into existence. His hacker would have done historical dating but still a good forensic cyber dig and he was dead in the fucking water. His entire life gone to shit because he didn't have his fucking shields down. Fuck! Fuck! and more Fuck!