Reality & Fantasy. [private]

[Mikaela Lye]

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[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light

[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind

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Jackson Hoar - Hope this works! - ### Words

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Mikaela could feel the criminal’s eyes on her, as though she were the threat in this situation. There were plenty of people in the casino, whether they were employees or blending in amongst the gamblers, that were far worse than her. She had a reputation for being temperamental, but I’m this setting, and this setting alone, she would not step out of line. Hurting one of the casino’s clientele, whether she started it or not, would get her in too much trouble.

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”The way you Canadians make your coffee all the bitterness is already gone,” she sighed. She put a dash of milk in the empty cup then filled it with coffee, ignoring his request for sugar. It was in one of the cupboards but she didn’t know which one.

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She stirred the contents of the second cup as she debated what to say about her offer. She would be sending him to do some completely meaningless work if they came to an agreement, but she doubted they’d get that far. ”I’d be a fool to start a negotiation of any kind by telling you what exactly what I’m looking to end up with.” She tapped the spoon against the edge of the mug and tossed it in the trash.

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”I suppose I’ve been enough of a fool today anyway. I have a… job of sorts that I double booked myself for and I need someone to take my place. It’s a few hours of relatively boring work - no fighting or smuggling or otherwise illicit action that might get you in trouble with whoever it is you work for. Oh, and anybody could probably pull it off so you don’t need to worry about embarrassing yourself by messing up. I’m sure you do enough of that on your own time.” she smirked as though the words were meant to mock, although getting on his nerves was not her main intention. She didn’t know what this man could do, nor did she know what crazy stories he’d heard about her. She didn’t want to scare him off. She approached him slowly, as she would a wild animal, to give him the coffee. She’d done quite enough threatening and it hadn’t gotten through. “Will that information suffice for the time being?”

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[Jackson Hoar]

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YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT

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Cautiousness was a required shield in the world of miscreants and evildoers, especially when somebody found necessity in a disguise. Despite the stories he told, every fabricated fact of his life was a location where everything could unravel. While portions of his persona held overlaps to his genuine life, he used a sharpened mind to remember truth from the fiction. His eyes remained on her, observing the creation of his coffee. The attentions appeared to had calmed, however, Jackson desired to avoid risks at any cost.

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The simple request made by the demon for his coffee received mild criticism from the young woman. A brow was lifted by the disguised man, curious about how his decision sparked that reaction. Alas, he gained a shred of information from Sarah's reaction to his coffee preferences. A single sentence revealed that the woman did not originate from Canada, however, Jack remained skeptical about the information. The entire life he lived was a fabrication forged for the purpose of deceiving and gathering information.

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He shrugged at the woman's words, adding the accent of a sassy eye roll. It was an attempt to distance himself from his phlegmatic origins, minor showings of a snarky criminal hardened from his days. Though when the conversation shifted to negotiations, Jackson returned to confusion.

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"Then how the hell am I supposed to do whatever deed you wanted?" The demon grumbled, annoyance leaking in.

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Those masked emotions, crucial in assuring he would succeed in reaching the objective. Furthermore, he noticed the woman's neglecting to give him sugar, but Jackson cared little about the missing element of his drink. As she explained, the undercover agent played his role by providing an unamused expression to exhibit his displeasure about the situation and his coffee. He remained quiet as he stood in her presence, attempting to understand the circumstance presented to him. The mockery prompted an annoyed 'hmph', his eyes narrowing.

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"That's still kinda suspicious, ya know? Why should I just trust you after everything I heard?" He said, crossing his arms.

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While Jackson held the necessity to maintain a front, it was likely he would accomplish whatever this woman wished, or fake it if it fell from legal graces. The coffee was accepted into his hands, the warmth admired, but the feigned criminal failed to take a sip. Rather, he wished to learn more about this exchange if the opportunity existed.

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399 words for Mikaela Lye

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[Mikaela Lye]

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[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light

[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind

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@// - Hope this works! - ### Words

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Mikaela cast the man an annoyed look as he questioned her. He definitely hadn’t dealt with her in the past if he felt the need to ask such stupid questions. She had a time and a place in mind for him, but she wouldn’t reveal that until after their negotiations had reached a close. And who knew, maybe by the end of this they could both do a little good in the world and get Karma off their backs.
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Mik’s eyes widened at his expressed suspicions. “Suspicious? Me?” she asked, the picture of innocence. Then she dropped the act and glared at him. “Coming from the strange man who cornered me at work to ask me for help on some mysterious job that’s quite the accusation.” She definitely wasn’t interested in having this turned around on her. She was doing him a favor by offering this deal. “Tell me, Angel Eyes. What makes you trust what you’ve heard?” she asked. “What makes you trust the rumors that I… hell, I don’t know… Poison nuns and torture puppies?” She raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know what rumors were out there, but she knew they weren’t good. Sarah Murray was a bad person. Much much worse than Mikaela herself. “And what do you and the ‘cowardly bastards’ need from me that doesn’t require trust?” She sauntered over to a table and placed her cup on it before sitting down in a chair that allowed her to face the criminal.

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[attr=class,Mikredfootertext]Tell Me Beautiful Lies

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