Deal or No Deal? [OPEN]

Cabel Sokot was perched on the edge of the sidewalk, holding an unlit cigarette between his lips and fumbling through his backpack with both hands. Anyone walking past him would see a young man looking for his lighter and not much else.

Of course, Cabel didn't smoke.

The average person walking by wouldn't know this, and that's what Cabel was banking on. He was waiting for someone to know that the unlit cigarette wedged between his lips was a subtle indication that Cabel was open for businesses.

He was accepting all kinds of orders for goods, ranging from the chemical kind to the obscure potion ingredients for those ever popular but ever forbidden love potions. He prided himself on his ability to find anything.

There was a cost, of course, to be paid in full at a later date. Cabel was nothing if a generous business partner.

So he sat on the curb, his eyes alert, waiting for someone to come to him with a request.

Because Cabel really needed a favor.

Cabel looked up at the man before him and grinned, the cigarette still hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

"That would be great, mate," he said, holding the cigarette out to him. "Least I can do is offer you one in return...unless there's something else I can offer you."

He had an eyebrow slightly cocked, and Cabel wished he was wearing sunglasses. This whole situation would be infinitely improved by sunglasses, both because they would make him harder to identify later if needed, hide his eyes so he could look wherever he wanted without fear of revealing any slip-ups...and look cool as hell. He made a mental note to have someone bring him a pair of sunglasses next time.

This was the part where Cabel was waiting for something, some indication of what he was to procure. People who asked for the news were looking for information, for the classifieds were looking for a specific service, and if they asked for directions....that was a whole other ballgame, one that Cabel particularly enjoyed.

This man was unfamiliar, not one of Cabel's usual customers or one of the associates, but Cabel was opportunistic. He wished there was a more discrete way to study the man infront of him, who was obviously older than Cabel, and employed. In a real job. The suit told him so.

"You mind if I ask what you do for a living?" Cabel asked, still grinning like a vapid high school kid. "That's a hell of a suit and I'd like to work in a field where I can wear something like that to work."

"I'm a lawyer...Trust me, it's not a profession you want to be in unless you're really.... Passionate, about it. Otherwise you're going to hate it."

Cabel nodded and brought the cigarette to his lips, placing it against his mouth, and pretending to inhale. He exhaled down low just like he would have if he was blowing smoke.

"Huh, a lawyer, no shit. Truthfully, I hate most things, so it might be nice to have something to aspire to. I think it's too late for me, though. I'd need another 4 years of law school and that bar exam?" Cabel shook his head, grinning. "Good for you, man."

".. So, what? You just sit here and bum your ass away?" he made an idle comment. "Not many people blatantly ask what I do right away for a living and have much to show for it anyway."

Cabel seemed unfazed by the comment, shrugging his shoulders as if he'd physically shrugged off any kind of insult that could come of it. Truthfully, Cabel was trying to play nonchalant while he tried to figure out this guy's motives. He didn't seem like a customer, but he was older than Cabel was, so he could just be a bystander who happened to notice he needed a light...or he could be someone chatting him up first, trying to show that he'd been around the block or something like that. It wasn't uncommon. He'd had a few people do this to remind Cabel that, no matter what, he was still just a child.

"Naw, student, and marketing intern. So, wait, actually I think your assessment of me is technically correct," Cabel laughed, rising to his feet. "Besides, I had to ask, because I'm always curious about the people who actually stop around here. You're only the second one in a suite. "

Cabel shook some of the ashes off the cigarette and onto the ground. He squinted towards the sun and frowned, thinking he saw something.

((ooc: i will have something happen eventually i swear))

"If you don't want to put in that much work, I suggest going into something else. You look like you'd make a better rock star than anything."

Cabel shrugged again, his lazy grin still on his face, but something was making him decidedly uncomfortable about this situation.

"Second one..? Is that so?"

Cabel's discomfort grew. A man in his position often employed other people to do this kind of stuff, the street stuff, chatting with customers, dealing with the cops and the crazies, but that was exactly the point. Cabel was hiding in plain sight by doing the grunt work himself.

He cast a nervous glance towards his backpack but when he looked back up, any trace of discomfort had vanished from his face and was replaced by that damn smile. It was all part of his camouflage.

"I think it'd be in your best interest to tell me what you know."

This was so not going well, not for Cabel.

"I know a lot of things," he said, "and I don't know a lot of things, too, so being more specific would be great."

He was still holding the cigarette in his hand, and he pretended to take a drag on it now, but really it was because the ashes were starting to dot the edge of his fingertips.

Fuck, this was probably a cop, he realized. Or someone even worse than a cop.

The last person in the suit paid him a handsome sum of money for everything he had, and disappeared. Three weeks later, there was a slew of overdose reports in the paper, and Cabel knew for certain the pills he'd made were impossible to overdose on. He'd done some trial runs, first. He was certain he'd been tampered with.

If this guy was here to tamper with another round of Cabel's stuff, he was having none of his shit. "I can't imagine a lawyer would need anything from someone like me, really, that he doesn't already know himself."

He tried to keep his voice cool but Cabel knew he was probably fucked.

This was a pissing contest, a dick-slinging contest, call it what you like....this was about who was the bigger, badder predator. They both had considerable resources, they were probably close in age, and it sounded like this was about the drugs.

It was always about the drugs.

Of course, in this instance, Cabel wasn't going to show his fangs. Better to let this asshole think that he was some low-level grunt, not the one running the ring.

But when he crossed his arms, glared down at his glasses, and took the cigarette from his arms, Cabel had to admit it was a display that had him fuming in the inside. This dude had a sword, and Cabel had a gun tucked into his shoe, but who was going to bring a gun to a sword fight? He probably wouldn't be able to draw it before that sword was plunged three inches into him. Oddly specific number though, no?

"I don't like you. And I'm not afraid to put my sword three inches into your chest. You're a worthless little shit that goes by on these disgusting 'abilities' just like the rest of this island. And I will get away scot free. I will assure you that.....So. You were saying?"

"Good," Cabel said, though he still didn't get up. That would imply that he gave a fuck, and the way this day was going, Cabel was starting to think he'd run out of them before lunch time. "I don't really like you either. You're arrogant and I'm tired of arrogant people, but since you did me the favor of telling me you're a...how did you put it? A nasty motherfucker? I'll return the favor of spelling this straight out for you."

He enunciated each word carefully. "If you want to know something, you need to be more specific. "Tell me what you know" is pretty fucking vague, man."

"If it wasn't clear enough already, I'm looking for someone. I'm looking for someone that seems to be peddling some sort of narcotic; preaching that it's a power enhancer. Ability enhancer. Whatever. Point is that the DA of the island doesn't like it. I don't either, probably moreso than him. Police can't get a warrant on drug addled parrots.. Much like yourselves. So he sells them on the corners.. Much like you're sitting on."

Cabel's heart started to race a little and now he wished he really did smoke because he wanted to do something. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, listening carefully to what this man was telling him.

The kicker was what happened next.

"Seen any of this?"

It might have been some high-end pixie stick, but Cabel didn't think so. You didn't put powder in a tube like that unless it was something serious. the fact that it was in a tube made him grit his teeth.

Cabel made pills. He did not do powders. It wouldn't be possible to ground his pills up into a powder, either. He didn't structure them that way--they'd dissolve. Easy to dispose of, easy to hide the evidence.

Which mean that someone was on Cabel's turf, and he was wondering if it was the same fucker who'd tampered with his first batch..

"How long ago did you find that" he said, the disdain clear in his voice.

Still, he was a little worried. An ability enhancer? That's what he did. He'd give abilities, albeit temporarily, to the non-gifted. They thought it was just a good trip, and maybe it was, but he'd seen people fly with his own eyes, and Cabel didn't sample his batches.

Someone was trying to compete with what Cabel did best and he did not like that. Which meant he had to deal with this insufferable asshole to find out more. He tried to figure out what kind of information he'd be willing to barter.

"Hey man, hookers can sit on this same corner, how do you know I'm not an escort?" he laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Ability enhancers are dangerous. If you don't do them right, it's very easy for there to be....unintended side effects. Whoever gave you that stuff is either doing it right, or playing with fire. How much of it was there?"

Cabel kept thinking about that stash he'd sold a few weeks earlier. He was dreading the answer, if he was lucky enough to get one.

".. There seemed to be an abundance. At least 60 grams of tubes worth in this hypothetical coat that the man was wearing. So, you seem to have knowledge. I'm going to ask you this up front. Your answer will depend on what happens next. Are you the one making this?"

60 grams?!

"Jesus freaking Christ," Cabel murmured. 60 freaking grams.

That was more than he'd sold--45grams--and that infuriated him. Someone had gone under his nose and conjured up 60 freaking grams worth of product and not only hawked it on Cabel's turf, but got caught?

Cabel never sold a batch higher than 100grams before. He felt there was a decrease in quality if he tried to produce anymore, and Cabel was all about quality of quantity. But 60 freaking grams?

It took Cabel a moment to realize there was a question at the end of the man's statement. He was still caught up plotting how and what he was going to do to this person when he found out who he was--assuming it was a he.

He realized the answer was sitting right next to him, dressed in a suit, sort of a dick. Why the hell shouldn't Cabel use this man to eliminate his competition?

"No," Cabel said, opening his hands to show his palms, then closing them again. He stopped himself from saying I wouldn't be dumb enough to get caught because it would tell the man that Cabel did make-stuff. It seemed like he already knew, but the less Cabel confirmed, the better.

This would be dangerous. This man worked for the police. He knew enough to find Cabel on this corner. Cabel did not believe in dumb luck.

"I'm going to a party, though, in a couple of weeks. A big one. " Cabel tilted his head, making eyecontact with the man, letting the underlying implication of his words creep through. "I'm thinking you should come, not dressed like that, though."

He motioned to the suit. "Come unwind. Meet some new people. You might go have a great day at work if you unwind the night before."

Come to this party and catch the son of a bitch that made this shit.