Good↓Greed

"Well, you are being rude yourself. I don't have eternity to spell and that's not nice for those of us with finite lifespans."

In that moment, Adam would pull his nose upwards towards Yaksha and give a pout as it was true -- he was human. Well, a human with an insanely prolonged lifespan, but a human none the less! He didn't have until the heat death of the universe to get to the point. So it was only natural that he'd become irritated when people can't just dive into what they want. It was perhaps a pet-peeve of his as he was more curious to know the nature of a person rather than having to smash his head into the metaphorical table when getting through small talk to get to the deep stuff.

"And I don't care what I'm called. The ends justify the means in my book."

Male, female, mafemale; none of it mattered in Adam's mind was it was hard to offend him given his lack of grasp on the concept of sensibilities, politeness and all things civil. He was a bloody terrorist: he was going to be called every name under the book. So there was no sense in getting worked up about what gender someone might refer to him as. Since, in his mind, he was already a vessel of humanity's best and worst traits; so having the embodiment of feminity and masculinity within himself were desirable traits as far as he was concerned.

And as Yaksha started to go on about his long verbal scolding about Adam's manners, one could almost see the boy staring at the screen and giving a "what the fuck?" kind of reaction to the camera. If he was doing all this research into the boy, one would believe that a terrorist wouldn't be the most pleasant, well suited, professional and no non-sense person in the world. Which is why The Monsuta operative mouthed the letters "w h a t" to this whole segment about how he ran his ship.

"I'm a terrorist. We aren't exactly known for our manners."

That was the truth. What, did this guy expect Alfred J. Pennyworth to come and whisk him away into a world of wonder and awe? Not in a million years!

"Anyway, moving past your morbid desire to cut off your own member, I'm certain you want to expand your casino operations, right?"

At this point, Adam was getting starved, so he was going to need something to get him through the meat and bones of this conversation. It's why he reached into his sleeve, pulled out another chocolate bar and started munching on it to give him the strength to get through this.

"Well, The Monsuta can help with that as I'm certain you aren't happy with how small scale your operations are. I mean, you are agitated enough to want to rip off your own family jewels, so I know you are frustrated in more than one way. It is why I'm acting as a gateway to bridge the gap between our people to you to help you in exchange for favors."

With a snicker out of his mouth, Adam threw a piece of paper on the table before him which listed out some of the benefits of being a Monsuta contractor. They could set their own rates, have a flexible schedule, set the terms of the contract and pick and choose what missions they wanted to do with them. The human was interested in working with The Hollow, but he was beginning to have his doubts that this sale would go through. Which, in his mind, was fine. After all, you can't persuade everyone, but you miss all the shots you don't take!

"We're a pretty flexible group, so I just want to figure out what exactly are YOU looking for from us?"

That was extra emphasis given on this sentence as Adam's eyes squinted down and locked sight with Yaksha. Really, what was the point of this meeting if he couldn't attain anything he wanted from it? While the boy was savage in the way he attained his goals, that didn't necessarily equate him to being unfair. If he could help, he would like to give the people he is working with a fair deal. Which is why he was so keen and insistent on this. Everything is give and take in the world; even down to the smallest of actions.

"As I can offer you the sun, the moon and the cows that live under it; but it won't matter if you don't also make the effort to make your desires known. As I want to have your assistance with equipping us with more allies we can depend on, so what exactly do you want in return for that service?"

Coding By: [THEFROST]

"A terrorist? Now don't you think you should -lead- with that? You've spent a lot of time here, leading me along and trying to convince me that you know something deep and philosophical about your fellow man. Then you start probing and prying about muscle. I've had to pry every little nugget out of you, while you sit on my couch, stuffing your face. You make demands that cut me to the quick, and you don't even notice."

His eyelid was twitching now, face still a perfectly pleasant smile as he folded his hands behind his back, and began to rock in place, looking up at the roof. This child was infuriating, more infuriating than any human he'd met to date. He seemed to be following some completely parallel line of thought processing, something too alien for even Yaksha to comprehend. He sucked at his lower lip, with a sound like a clogged drain, for about ten seconds, then finally pulled his hands apart, and let them hang by his side.

It was hard, so very incredibly hard, to remain calm and professional during this conversation. But he couldn't allow this little child to take the conversation by the reins and lead it, or to tug Yaksha about like some kind of a beast of burden. He had to make sure the child didn't get a chance to cut ahead in the conversation, and lay down tracks. To buy himself time, he picked up the contract, eyes scanning over it, poring over each word, expression faintly frustrated as he read.

"I do hope you at least have some reputable shell corporation for all of this. Something well and distanced from your terrorist activities. I will turn state's witness on the Monsuta at the very first opportunity, if I feel our relationship is becoming a matter of public scorn or disdain."

He folded the paper, once, twice, four times, hands trembling ever so slightly as he set it on the table, then reaching up to tease a few stray locks away from his face. There was a look of terrible, agonized concentration on Yaksha's face right now, as if he were trying to remember the steps to a very difficult and complicated recipe, or trying to recite and recreate an especially long soliloquy from a play. He was silent for nearly 30 seconds, hands trembling slightly less with each passing moment.

"I'm trying my best here. There are niceties that need must be observed. However frustrating it is for you, I guarantee you that one of my outbursts would not be any better. Please. Negotiations are not meant to be done in under an hour. I have a plan. It's a very good one. I know the steps I need to take to get to where I want to go. My expansion is on schedule, and needs no funding, or allegations of funding, from terrorists. I am trying my best to keep an open mind here, but everything you show me leads me to believe your presence in my plans would be more liability than asset."

He turned away from the child, hands folding over his chest once more, eyelid once more twitching, albeit slightly slower now. He walked towards the kitchen, taking great pains to observe each and every one of the pots, a bit longer than was necessary in all honesty, before he finally turned back to Adam, and managed a sickly, almost painfully false smile.

"My desires are simple, Adam. Right now, in this moment. I want to feel like you aren't treating me as a means to an end. I don't want to wonder if you're going to throw me aside when it becomes convenient. I don't want to spend time second guessing my instincts. I want you to reach deep into that heart of yours, give me a big old smile, and tell me, with the most sincere tone you can muster, that this isn't just some one-night stand. Because I'm finding it very hard to take the bait when you're dangling it so half-heartedly in front of me. Cut the shit, kid. From stumbling across one another in the streets, to you suddenly revealing you know about my casino aspirations, and my race? It stinks."

He leaned over the stove once more, his voice drifting back stronger, more confident, when he wasn't looking at the child. When he could shove these feelings out of his mind, and focus on the simple rituals at hand.

"My casino will be a neutral party in this disgraceful state of affairs. Should the time come when you feel like stepping out of the dark and actually drafting your letter of intent, I will happily lend a hand. Should you need a safe haven with which to extract information from a high-profile target. I will supply my services. Should you need to know the powers of any particular individual, or anything of that sort. My casino will be the place to come. Contracting with a terrorist organization just sounds like it would destroy my bottom line. It's tedious in the short term, inadvisable in the middle ground, and utterly catastrophic in the long term. So how about you start taking some actual interest in my desires, for a change? Instead of offering me the sweet release of death as a bargaining tactic."