tampered | Log; Incomplete

Log; Incomplete

When; Saturday, May 16th; Evening
Rating; PG-13 (Probably no higher than that)
Characters; Kincaid

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Summary; Solomon thinks it's time that he made their agreement clear.
Log; He was near the door as usual. It was a good place for keeping an eye on things. It was either here or over by the bar. Hey, he was good at his job. Didn't matter what the job was. He was good. End of story.

While he was working anyways. That was what had led to what was probably considered a scolding in Solomon's mind. It hadn't mattered to him. The guy was some businessman who wanted someone who would kick ass without taking names. The guy paid well so he didn't care much. However, it was also a rather boring job.

Hoorah. One punch and the guy was out.

He should've hired someone else for the job.

Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms. Solomon was supposed to show up at some point for drinks here. They hadn't established a time which meant he was still waiting for him to show up. Even a couple of days later.

If the guy was the kind of business tycoon he thought he was, he'd show up in the next day or two. Maybe even tonight.

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Solomon had intentionally kept his arrogant young bodyguard waiting for as long as possible. After all, with how he was being treated, it served his purposes best to keep as tight of a control of the situation as possible. Two days had passed since they'd last spoken. Enough time for his irritation to dissipate, and for him to consider the best course of action. Kincaid had to be taught a lesson in manners, there was no doubt about that... otherwise, their relationship would have to come to an abrupt end.

A servant without respect for their employer was less than useless.

Having wrapped up his work in the lab early, he took a leisurely stroll through the darkened streets of the City. Night time was always relaxing to him, although he by far preferred to spend his days in the warmth of the sun. Even in the blackness of the night, his chiropteran eyes could see clearly through the murky shadows. Crossing the street, he finally caught sight of the somewhat shabby exterior of the night club known as the 'Blue Light'.

Narrowing his eyes in distaste, he forced a grim smile to play upon his features. It was hardly going to be pleasant, but Solomon had a way with words, and when he really put his mind to something, he almost always got his way.

Picking up his pace, it took but a moment for his hand to alight upon the door. The interior lights stung his eyes slightly while they adjusted to the rustic atmosphere of the club. The distaste he felt at being in such a place flickered only briefly on his face, while his eyes finally zeroed in on his target. Kincaid....

Oh that look was one he wished he had a picture of. Solomon was so out of place here. He couldn't help but to love it. Grinning, he nodded to him and pushed himself off the wall. There wasn't anything going on out there anyways. Besides, he could chat and bounce at the same time. Drink too. He had a good tab going on here but that didn't matter since Solomon was paying this time.

Hands in his pockets, he nodded to the bar. He didn't care what kind of pansy drink Solomon ordered, he wanted some hard liquor. It had a better sting to it.

"Ya took to the place rather quickly. This way."

He didn't bother waiting for the man. He just went right one walking until he reached one of the empty barstools. There was one right next to him that was free so his 'employer' could take that one. Nodding to the the person behind the bar tonight, he ordered a couple shots of whiskey. He didn't order for his companion. His boss was a big boy, he could do that himself.

Frowning, his eyes narrowed as he watched Kincaid's form walking away from him. His bodyguard had warned them when they'd first met that he was an 'ass', and Solomon had to agree with his assessment as being highly accurate. Still, he'd only tolerate so much...

Taking a deep breath, he moved with a quiet grace to the bar where Kincaid had seated himself. Things were worse than he'd imagined. Kincaid exhibited absolutely no respect for him whatsoever. Obviously it was only the money he cared about, instead of holding any kind of value on the job. Perhaps he'd have to consider the approach that he was going to take with the man. Or even if he wanted to keep him on retainer at all...

It was really Kincaid's claim to his demonic origins that kept Solomon from ridding himself of this nuisance once and for all. If it had been any of his brothers, Kincaid would have died long ago, but the softer spoken Chevalier had a weakness for novelties. And as much as he was regretting it now, his senses told him that this insolent bastard just might have value...

Nodding at the bartender, Solomon ordered a glass of red wine. It was the closest he could come to the beverage of his choice in a public place. “Interesting place that you work, Mr. Kincaid... very... quaint.”

Wine.

...Wine.

Pansy.

He downed the first shot like it was water. Some of the alcohol these days couldn't compare to the crap he used to drink all the time. But, the sting was there and that's what he was looking for. The other shot he left for the moment. There was a statement to respond to. He shrugged for his answer before giving a verbal reply.

"It's a downgrade from the Hellsing place. Been in places that were actual dumps. This ain't like those shit holes. Least they serve wine here."

He snorted and downed his second shot. Again one would think he was only drinking water.

“Hellsing? Ah, yes... Sir Integra Hellsing. I had the pleasure of meeting her and he companion Alucard when they first arrived. She seems to be a most practical sort of person... I hadn't realized that you were currently employed by them.” Taking a sip of his wine, he turned over this new bit of information carefully.

It was all very tedious at times, keeping up with peoples backgrounds and other pertinent data. In the past Van would have handled all that, compiling every facet of a prospective employees life. Before someone had even been hired, he'd have presented a neatly typed and bound report for Solomon on his desk for his consideration. He missed Van terribly now that such matters had fallen entirely in his hands if he wanted them done at all. Tedious.

There were so many other matters that demanded his attention, especially since Saya had become a major part of his life.

“Are you on full retainer with Sir Hellsing as well? I hope there would be no conflict of interest...”

"No conflict. If there was going to be I wouldn't have let you hire me."

He knows his schedule perfectly. He knows what he can handle and how he'll handle it. Besides, he's slipped away to do things before. And when curses strike he's not working for the Hellsing place. Nope, he's here during those times. A bouncer. It's easy to slip away to take care of things and then slip back. He's tested it just to be sure. Things don't usually get crazy here anyways.

Might as well explain.

"Only work days for them, daddy. Nights I'm here at Blue Light."

Solomon inwardly cringed to hear that mocking nickname once again. It seemed as if this was going to be a pattern. His mouth tightened, and it took everything he had to not crush the fragile wine glass held in his hand.

"... must you call me that, Mr. Kincaid?"

It wasn't that he was unused to teasing... his brother Nathan had a penchant for poking fun at some of the younger members in his family... in his 'old' family. Thankfully, James had taken the brunt of Nathan's attention, but it was only because he set himself up as such a target.

Solomon, however, was not a target. And certainly not for the likes of anyone like his abrasive, uncultured bodyguard.

It was just the intent behind the way Kincaid mocked him that got under his skin. Something that he was set on changing this evening. Even if it meant only silencing his impertinent words for 24 hours...

Oops. Struck a nerve with that one.

Oh well.

He looked over at his boss with an amused smirk. There was no way in hell he was going to stop calling him that. It was a nickname he kinda liked. No point in wasting a perfectly good thing. That would just be stupid. And he wasn't stupid.

An ass, sure.

Stupid? Nope.

"Yup. You're definitely 'daddy' now."

What could he do but to ignore the response? That was always James' downfall, falling prey to the taunts that were thrown his way. Turning his attention back to study the deep red of his wine, more violent images played out in his mind.

It was a pity that they weren't alone.

"I'd like to address the position that you've undertaken in agreeing to work for me, Mr. Kincaid." The crimson color swirled around the glass, staining the edges with a translucent tone. Listening carefully, he could make out the slow steady beat of the other man's pulse. It was slower than what he'd consider normal for a human, but then again, his bodyguard was part demon.

"Would you mind telling me what your understanding of the job entails?"

Edited 2009-05-16 07:45 (UTC)

"Knock you out if you're likely to reveal your secret shit to everyone."

That was the basic gist of it anyways. He was sure there were further details but he usually simplified it to keep the work quick and easy. He knew what he was paid to do. The situation he saw the other day was one where secrets weren't going to come out except for fake drama crap. No big deal. No need for a knock down, drag out.

He figured he wasn't going to get paid so he didn't care when he was told he wasn't getting the money. He hadn't done his job.

"You going to tell me you didn't tell me everything?"

He glanced up at the bartender, before shifting in his seat to gaze around at the other patrons. "... nothing that I care to speak about here."

Solomon was no fool, and had been very careful to keep his secrets close to him throughout his very long life. Humanity, although inferior, tended to be quite troublesome when something unusual caught their eye. He'd seen it many times before, and had learned quite quickly that discretion was always the better part of valor.

No, there were far too many witnesses around for him to even show the slightest bit of his true nature off so carelessly. "I'm a very private man, Mr. Kincaid. It's important for me to safeguard anything that could compromise the success of my work, which is why I'm entrusting in your abilities to keep things to yourself. It would be unfortunate if anything were to get out."

The fact that Solomon was looking around to make sure no one was listening amused him. No one heard a word he said. He knew something about keeping secrets. How else had he gotten this far with only a few people knowing he was more than human? When he said that he was good, he meant it. He was good.

"Good thing shit won't get out then."

Solomon's business was his own. He didn't care what he did. But the pansy ass was doubting him and that irritated him.

"Anything else ya wanna remind me of? I know that crap."

He sighed, feeling a headache coming on. Although there would be many benefits to having a half demon as a bodyguard, Kincaid had yet to prove that he was even worth the aggravation he was causing. Of course, for all Solomon knew, being a pain in the ass was par for the course in associating with a demon. He hoped not.

Glancing back over to his companion, he forced his expression to remain calm and pleasant. "I'm glad that you've kept all that in mind, Mr. Kincaid." He crossed his legs, listening to the movement around them; aware of every patron in the room with extreme precision. It was one of the benefits of being a Chevalier to a chiropteran queen.

"I was wondering... you should be getting off of work soon, is that right?" It was why Solomon had waited until near closing before showing up. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you mind taking a stroll with me?"

Had Solomon just asked him to take a stroll with him? Who the hell said anything like that anymore? His brow rose high as he ordered a couple more shots. Might as well make use of the guy's gentleman-like personality. It's his own fault for offering to buy anyways. He never would let someone not pay for his drinks. Besides, this shit isn't going to get him drunk anytime soon.

His eyes glanced at the clock. What the hell was a pansy like Solomon doing out this late anyways? Oh well. Not his problem.

Draining one shot upon arrival, he looked over at the man.

"Yup. Five minutes. And sure, we can go a-strollin'. Sounds like a jolly good time."

Solomon merely nodded, noting the dripping sarcasm in the other man's voice. Kincaid underestimated him greatly. But soon, very soon, that would be corrected. Not that the Chevalier intended to show all of his 'cards' to his bodyguard. But a lesson in respect was long past due.

The corners of his mouth curved up slightly. "Mr. Kincaid... will you even be alright to take this walk with me?" He gestured blithely towards the empty shot glasses in front of the man, knowing full well that his question was likely to strike a nerve.

Kincaid was a soldier, no doubt used to far heavier doses of the intoxicant. And adding the fact that only half of him was human, it was bound to give him other perks when it came to tolerances. Such as... a tolerance to pain...

Solomon dearly hoped so considering what he intended on doing to the man. But if the worst came to pass, he could always try to patch Kincaid up using his century of knowledge in the medical arts. Or if he was far weaker than the Chevalier was giving him credit for, he could always send an apology letter to the man once he joined the City dead...

On the whole, he hardly cared what happened at this point, so long as he got his point across.

Edited 2009-05-18 04:18 (UTC)

Alrighty then. Why was the guy smiling?

"Yup. Takes way more than that to get me started on being tipsy. Drinking games are always interesting." He drained his next one. "Like drinking water. Besides, this is only four." And as if to prove his point, he made sure the glass made a sound when he set it down. Stretching, he glanced at the clock one more time. He stood and reached under his jacket to shift his holsters to be more comfortable. Sometimes the damn things shifted.

Then he left without a word to head into a back room. He just needed to gather his other guns and other weaponry. 'Never leave home without 'em.' He loved that quote.

When he came back the rest of the five minutes was done. "I'm done. Heading out time." And he turned and went outside to wait for Solomon.

Swirling the last of his wine in it's glass, his eyes followed the movement of his bodyguard as he went into the back. What was to come would have to be carefully orchestrated in order to achieve his end goals, and Solomon didn't like to have his objectives not be met...

Truth be told though, Solomon didn't like violence. He'd seen too much of it during his short time as a mortal during the Great War to end all wars... as if that had happened...

He'd hoped to escape all that when Amshel had approached him about a very 'unique' opportunity. To be free of all the carnage of war, to no longer be a part of the human race that would allow such atrocities to occur under its watch... he would have done anything.

But, things were never so easy. War was war, and no matter what the species was, fighting was inevitable in the end. He sighed, frowning, not wanting to have to do what needed to be done. But, Kincaid was a grown man, and he'd brought it on himself with how he was acting. He might have been twice as good as a human, but there was still a pecking order, and at least Solomon would get the enjoyment of seeing just who was better. If anything, it would alleviate some of the boredom to his never ending existence...

He didn't even have to look to sense Kincaid walking towards the door without any consideration to his still sitting there at the bar. He sighed again, hearing Kincaid's dismissive tone, and got up to follow.

Edited 2009-05-18 05:02 (UTC)

He wasn't tired but he yawned anyways as he waited for Solomon to come outside. It was a nice early morning. Not cold anymore but not hot. Scratching his chin, he heard the door open and looked over his shoulder. A stroll, huh? Where the hell are they going to go at this time of night anyways? Or at this hour of the morning. Whatever.

"So, where are we going, daddy?"

No point in him leading. He had no idea where the guy wanted to go. Dipping his hands into his pockets, he fingured the trigger of the gun there. He was off duty technically but he wasn't about to give up the chance to earn some money. Though, it was unlikely anyone was going to actually attack them.

"Lead the way."

Even now it seemed as if Kincaid were the one directing the course of this meeting. His words held the commanding undertone of one who expected his orders to be followed, than the polite inquiry of the one who was the employee. Still, nothing could be done about that in this very public locale, even if it was closing time. Appearances were everything (second only to his love and devotion for Saya), and it was still possible for some straggler to witness any acts of punishment even at this late hour.

His mouth twisted into a forced smile. And he gave a polite nod of his head. “Yes. Of course.” He kept his pace slow yet determined as he headed off down the street. It was a path less traveled, heading towards the business district of the City. There, it would be far less likely that their talk would be interrupted by any bar hopper. “Right this way..."

It wasn't important that he knew where they were headed. The location was irrelevant as long as it was somewhere dimly lit by the blaring street lights, and more importantly, somewhere where they could have some privacy.

He shrugged. He didn't particularly care where they went. All he was doing now was humoring the guy. It wasn't like he was on duty for him at the moment or anything like that.

Yawning, he looked up at the sky. Not a bad night. Clear sky and plenty of stars. It was one of the few things he actually liked. Seeing stars up there like that. There was only one of there person who'd learned about that. Well, two. One of them was dead. The other wasn't going to say anything to anyone.

Looking back down, he looked ahead of Solomon. Huh. Dimly lit place. Special.

Likewise, Solomon's eyes were raised to the stars twinkling overhead, admiring the beauty that came with the night. It was such a pity to be in such difficult company on a night such as this, but business was business and since Van wasn't around to deal with it, the duty fell to him.

Dropping his gaze to the ground, his brow furrowed in concentration as he expanded his awareness in a wide circle around them. He'd been prepared to take them as far as was necessary in his quest for a remote area, but thankfully that hadn't been necessary. The streets had thinned considerably as their feet led them away from the seedy bar Kincaid worked at. Enough that Solomon felt comfortable enough for their little 'chat'.

"Mr. Kincaid..." Slowly, his feet came to a stop. One arm crossed over his chest as the fingers of the other alighted under his chin in thought. "I was wondering... even though you have only recently started working for me... are you happy enough with the position?"

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

It's a job. He didn't care about it. There's only one job he ever was happy with. No, that's not true. He couldn't afford to be happy with working for the Archive. She was a charge. If she didn't pay the fees, he would kill her. That was how he worked.

Only...he didn't want to have to kill her.

His answer to Solomon was to shrug.

So Kincaid was choosing to be difficult.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to try another route. Perhaps this time he could get more than a seemingly bored reply. "Sometimes silence speaks louder than a thousand words, Mr. Kincaid. Let me phrase it this way then so there will be no mistakes..."

Tilting his head, he eyed his bodyguard disapprovingly. Did it matter anymore if they could mend the fractured working relationship the two of them shared? His mouth pressed in a tight line, remembering just how long it had taken just to find someone with the required set of skills. Lestat would have been perfect, but the City had other ideas when they'd snatched him away.

Sighing quietly, he resigned himself to the task at hand. "Do you have a problem with me?"

Edited 2009-06-05 04:34 (UTC)

Other than the fact that you're some pansy ass human?

"Nope."

He was smart enough to know that there were some things you didn't say to those who were providing the paycheck. That was one of them. He hadn't survived this long by being stupid. And he wasn't about to start being stupid now.

He was a survivor.

One with a love for money but details.

"Hm, is that so?" At least Kincaid had some manners. It was a start.

He smiled, masking the myriad of thoughts that were going through his head. Accepting his obvious lie in an attempt at politeness, would get them nowhere in the long run. Kincaid would continue to carry that derisive undertone in his voice whenever he spoke to him, and even worse, his body language would send out the wrong message to anyone that was around them. Solomon just wasn't willing to accept being seen as trailing around weakly after his bodyguard as if he were a child clutching after his mother's skirts.

Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, he pressed on. "Yes, yes... I understand your hesitation. But I assure your answer will in no way shape or form affect your status as my employee. This talk is completely 'off the record'. I'm genuinely interested to hear what you have to say."

Edited 2009-06-05 05:30 (UTC)

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