1 ɂ voice

[mattersverymuch]

[ There's the tapping of fingers, the click of a tongue, and a long silence before anything's actually said. When the marquis speaks, he sounds hoarse, as well as almost cheerful. Spoilers: he's not really. ]

Naïveté is catching these days, I notice. Whose idea was this? I have places to be.

Comments

[mattersverymuch]

Then you're not interested in trade?

[Video] -> [Spam]

[omar]

Think you barking up the wrong tree, man.

[He's not. But any criminal living in post-9/11 America knows the rule: never do anything on the phone. At least, not any good criminal. Even the mighty Stringer Bell was almost taken down by a network, and that's enough to make anyone take note.

Come to think of it, anyone with enough paranoia would be seriously careful who he talked to, too. Omar himself wore a wire once, so why not anyone else? But his recon on the Barge has told him that it probably doesn't go that far. So he hangs up right now, but the next day, when he "just happens" to see the marquis at lunch, and "just happens" to sit down near him... that's another story.]

Said you hear a thing or two.

[spam forever]

[mattersverymuch]

[ Things one learns: there are no coincidences. Ever. So when the marquis sees Omar heading his way at lunch, he just smiles and continues eating. He doesn't answer for a moment, and when he does he's looking at his plate, not at Omar. ]

So did you.

[ The frustrating thing is that he has no idea if they're actually useful or relevant stories. Still, given that this is the only person who has thus far expressed interest in playing by his rules, he can't afford to be too picky. ]

[spam forever]

[omar]

[Frankly, he's pretty sure this stuff isn't going to be all that interesting. Neither of them have been around long enough to get any good dirt, and neither has said anything that wouldn't be easy enough to dig up in other ways.

But in a place like this, allies are important. Even the great Omar Little isn't a lone wolf. If he plants this seed now, it could easily grow into something useful. The kind of man who doesn't look up, that's useful.

So he keeps his eyes on his own food, and grins down into it.]

A'ight, bro. I can go first.

I seen you call yourself a Marquis, that right? Just so happen there be another one on board: Marquis de Sade. Got hisself a pretty long rap sheet, apparently, once upon a time. [The name had twigged some memory, so he'd looked it up.] He a man in charge now, though.

[mattersverymuch]

[ He controls his reactions, because that is important, now more than ever. But he is surprised. It's a familiar enough name, certainly. Still, time and space being what they are here, nothing can be assumed. ]

[ And: 'call yourself a Marquis'. Was that a figure of speech, or a carefully placed assumption meant to trip him up? ]

A Warden. Reformation is possible. What a relief.

[ He looks up as if contemplating the opposite wall. One at a time, and he might keep some in reserve. He wants to learn more about Willow. ]

You were interested in murderers? Ladd Russo.

[omar]

[He raises a brow at his sandwich, stretching the scar on his face in interesting ways.]

Not just a murderer, though. You said something about a spree.

[mattersverymuch]

A spree of sprees. [ He shrugs, more to himself than anything. ] Of which this individual was a part.

[omar]

Mmm-hmm. [He studies his drink.] You know who-all he hit?

[mattersverymuch]

[ Putting down his fork - with which he has been toying, not actually eating - he reaches out his hand in a small but very clear beckoning motion. Quid pro quo, et cetera. ]

[omar]

[The man is strict. He can respect that, so he nods.] 'Nother one called Rhade. Fair few ex-cons up in this joint, as a matter of fact.

So who be getting targeted in these sprees?

[mattersverymuch]

[ His hand returns to the edge of the plate, fingers tapping on the rim. None of this is terribly surprising - of course there are ex-cons, it's a prison ship - but still, the name is valuable, and he'll need to put a face to it soon enough. ]

It depends on the individual. [ Obviously. And an index of motivations would be an interesting thing to develop, wouldn't it? - Thought for later. ] Randomized murders seem common. As a way to make a name for oneself. [ He wouldn't be able to keep the disdain out of his voice even if he wanted to. ]

[omar]

[That's not all too surprising, either. He knows how this works; he practices a more subtle version of the same.]

Inmates, though? Wardens? [And there's a streak of disdain in his own voice.] Anybody and everybody?

[mattersverymuch]

As I understand it, there's a strong tendency towards indiscriminate killing. Exceptions exist. [ He looks at his nails for a moment, then decides why not. ] Willow. And someone creatively called Amanda, although apparently not anymore.

[omar]

[And now he definitely looks disgusted, although he raises a brow at the last two names.] Got some murderous babies around too, huh? Used to it being more a boys' show back home.

[And now he figures he probably owes something else, but the truth is, he doesn't have much else to give. He prods thoughtfully at his food.] You know what it is, is a real lack of consequences up in here. Even if one of these honeys get real creative with it, still don't land 'em more'n a week in the hole, so. Real lack of fear in the system, seem to me.

[mattersverymuch]

[ He shrugs. ] Women are as bloodthirsty as anyone. Sometimes they're the best. [ Stupid Hunter. ]

[ And look at that, Omar has actually managed to hush him up for a minute. Something to think about. ] It does seem somewhat . . . soft. Being trapped here notwithstanding. I understand people complain, but there are worse fates.

[omar]

So my grandmother used to tell me, anyway. [He grins.] Decked out in her church finest. This ain't so much the kind of afterlife she was thinking of, I thinks.

I told her I was goin' to New York, of course. [Or, you know, died in prison. But that seems as good a story as any.] Didn't think she'd want to hear none about this.

[mattersverymuch]

Mm. [ His expression is almost farcically neutral. ] You don't think there's some measure of justice in all of this?

[omar]

Don't know. What's it say when a dude can get up to all that badness and still walk around with no care in the world?

[mattersverymuch]

It says that either justice is measured differently than people expect it to be, or . . . [ He shrugs. Or there's no justice at all. ]

[omar]

[He raises his eyebrows, in turn, but the gesture is deliberately ambiguous, and he doesn't elaborate. He takes a big bite of his lunch, instead.] Food ain't bad, though.

[mattersverymuch]

[ All right, then. Make it difficult. It's more fun that way. And maybe he's even smiling a little. ] I've certainly had worse food.