A well done steak [Poptart]

Marco Lopez was a nuclear bomb.

He had all the traits of one. Both were horribly dangerous. No one wanted to be around either. And of course, neither had to actually try to start trouble to make him intensely paranoid. A nuclear bomb did not have to come in with the intention of screwing shit up to screw shit up. A nuclear bomb just had to exist.

Marco had not managed to slip onto his islands unnoticed. He'd bought a large piece of land, which had not been particularly concerning... and then he'd managed to put up a large and (as far as Ignatius was concerned) gaudy casino in what seemed like record time. Money was the best grease, after all, and then he'd started to look into the man who could afford to just put up a casino.

An initial investigation had found remarkably little. Marco Lopez was a rich, god-fearing catholic with a lovely wife and a whole legion of lovely kids. It wasn't until he'd started really digging that he'd found anything. More or less every single one of his kids seemed to be some kind of delinquent, and while there was no evidence of anything, Marco seemed to be exactly the kind of businessman that everyone thought Ignatius was - the kind who had more going on behind the scenes than people thought possible.

Beyond being just a nuke, the more he learned, the more he realized that Marco was everything he wanted and everything he hated rolled up into one neat little package. He had a wife and heirs. Children. A proper family he would likely never have. He had more money than god, and he could do whatever he wanted with it. It was like an entire string of things he wanted, all wrapped up in a package that he'd never, ever admit he found attractive.

But there was only so much ignoring that could be done. Marco was still there, even if he ignored him. And, much like the nuclear bomb that Ignatius had declared him in his head, he could not just be ignored.

So after a lot of humming and hawing and trying not to make any decision, he'd finally sent out a nicely worded formal invitation, inviting Marco to sit down with him for dinner at one of his favorite restaurants on the strip. They made an excellent steak, and it was more or less his home turf when he needed a place that he didn't actually own to serve as a neutral meeting place.

And now he was waiting. Dressed formally in his usual suit, already at the table ten minutes early, and waiting. Waiting for Marco to show up and... and what? He wasn't really sure if he could have put together an explanation for the actual purpose for the meeting. He supposed he just wanted to know just how dangerous Marco was. He supposed he wanted Marco to know that he was aware of him.

Mostly he just wanted to stop having to worry about the fact that Marco Lopez was on his island, which was unlikely to be resolved by one dinner meeting.

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Tag to @"Poptart" ​

Somehow, meeting the man in person made everything worse. He'd expected it to somehow be better, to feel that he was more of an actual person and less of an unstoppable force, but that feeling didn't subside at all looking at him in person. He looked normal, and completely self assured. He looked like he feared nothing, but also like he was a perfectly ordinary person, and not at all a cutthroat businessman.

But Ignatius knew otherwise, because no one got to where Marco was without being exactly that.

He was, somehow, even more attractive in person, which just made the entire experience all the worse. Were whatever gods existed angry at him? What other explanation could there be? Could he not have had someone threatening (whether actually threatening or not) to destroy him who was just plain ugly? No, instead he had to be everything Ignatius wanted to be, all rolled up in a neat little package.

He stood from his spot at the table, all polite smiles and good social graces, and held his hand out, giving Marco's hand a firm shake. A business handshake, which was exactly the sort of thing he'd been doing for years. Firm, but not too firm, because for some reason how tightly you squeeze another person's hand actually mattered.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lopez. I've heard great things about you." Well, about his company, but they were all but one and the same, weren't they? "I apologize for the abrupt meeting. I'd been eager to meet you, but there's never really a good time to set something like this up." They were busy men, and busy men made for busy schedules. "How are you enjoying the islands?" Despite having no true claim to the islands, they were his home, and Ignatius was oddly proud of them. Part of it was no doubt that he would not pass as human anywhere, but the majority of it was simply a general affection for the island and it's inhabitants.

Without further ado, he gestured for them to sit, taking a seat himself. Even sitting down he was a monster of a man, dwarfing the chair he was sitting on.

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Tag to @"Poptart" ​

Ignatius would have liked for Marco to sit across from him, and it was for the exact same reason Marco hadn't. He played the intimidation game with years of experience and several obvious natural advantages. Normal humans could be intimidating with effort, but Ignatius did not have to put any in. He was naturally intimidating to most people, in part because of his height, and in part because of his features. Sharp teeth and reversed eyes practically screamed 'predator', and they made a lot of people nervous.

So Marco was entirely correct when he decided sitting down beside him would leave things more casual, and Ignatius himself settled in. Marco did not seem... well, he did not seem intimidating. He seemed very businessy, but he didn't seem particularly threatening. He hadn't come into the meeting with guns blazing or anything, and he seemed willing to have a perfectly ordinary chat.

"I can imagine." He commented, entirely off hand, when Marco brought up how troublesome his children could be. Ignatius did not, in fact, know how teenagers were with their high school drama. He had no children, and he dealt with precious few people under the age of twenty. Of course, he had vague ideas about how he would raise his future children (because, of course he would have kids... at some point), but he didn't have any solid ideas.

Ignatius did not even have to order. His order was almost inevitably the same, and he waved off the waiter when approached. He gave them enough of his business and tipped well enough that they knew exactly what they meant, and the waiter headed off to the kitchen with nothing more than a polite 'yes sir'.

"Of course. I was tutored as well on the side, but the vast majority of the non-humans on the island attend Starlight Academy. It's why the island exists, in so many words." Ignatius made no effort to hide what he was. Even if he'd wanted to, it would have been too much work. His height was abnormal, his eyes were abnormal... even if most people couldn't figure out what he was at a glance, he was clearly something that was not 100% homo sapien. "It's a fine institution, with some of the very best teachers. Very odd teachers a lot of the time, but good ones just the same." And any children he had would be going there too, because he wouldn't accept anything else.

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Tag to @"Poptart" ​

It was largely Manta Carlos's seclusion that made certain it had such good teachers. There were plenty of excellent teachers who would never teach in a traditional system. Teachers that were dead. Teachers that were inhuman. Teachers with secrets too large to be kept in one place - or at least in any place other than the islands. Some of the best and brightest were just that because they knew too much, and there was nowhere else they could teach as they wished. People who taught magic. People who spoke of the paranormal. People who had seen things that couldn't be explained.

The brief mention of Marco's past piqued his interest, but he doubted he'd get much more than what the official blurb on him would say. Grew up in mexico, poor family, the whole deal. Official bios like that never got into any real detail, and it wasn't as if Marco had decided to write out an autobiography for him to peruse for details.

He nodded. Yes, he ran it. It had been his father's company, but it had not been handed down as so many family businesses did. No, he had taken over the company like an outside would have. He'd dragged himself to the top and forced his way into the top position.

He had expected the question. It always came up, when he dealt with other businessmen. So many expanded, and Ignatius simply hadn't. He'd felt no desire. He'd practically memorized his response, and he answered Marco with all the precision of a surgeon.

"I think of the firm as a local business, despite it's size. It was born on Manta Carlos, and it will no doubt exist on Manta Carlos for many generations to come. Many - if not most - of the businesses that exist here owe their thanks in part to the company's funding, and it makes for tight ties." Tight ties was good business. When everyone owed you, it was just so easy to negotiate.

"On a more practical level since I've taken over... It would mean needing a mediator for all off islands business, which I'm not terribly keen on." He made a brief gesture to his face - to the blacks of his eyes, which were almost the exact opposite of what any human would have. Black sclera with white irises, distinct and so clearly inhuman.

And that wasn't even mentioning the sharp teeth.

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Tag to @"Poptart" ​