The soft sound of a clock, its hands ticking away the time at a steady pace, masked only by the soothing sounds of chopin and quiet crackling from the record player in the corner.

The tea is still warm; half-drunk on its saucer, warm hues of orange and red splashed over its surface.

Sunset.

A cool breeze blows the soft white of the curtains inward, silky fabric kissing fresh flowers in a vase nearby.

Scattered papers across the floor; an empty chair.

The recording comes to an end. 

Tick tick tick… 

pianowired:

Nein.

So little faith in me, Kris. When have I ever fallen for a fairytale?

A … certain … a Herr Wright is in the hospital. Not ours, another - shot.

By Fraulein Hawthorne - or, alternatively, by medium with no connections to him whatsoever.

Have you not read the case notes? It’s not the first time she’s manifested herself this way.

And yet I thought that she was long taken care of.

Oh, but how foolish of me to show skepticism over someone who was supposedly banished to hell, all those years ago.

A Wright in the hospital? And she is the reason for his having ended up there? Well then, perhaps she is not much of anything to be feared after all, hm?
Nevertheless, I will be cautious, I assure you.

thedarkersideofjustice:

[Apollo’s chin lifts slightly, in the smallest hint of defiance. Did Mr. Gavin really think that he wasn’t going to serve him in every way possible, after their deal? No, he’d make sure that everything would run just… fine, and keep innocent people from getting hurt. Nothing too much, just a few smaller things.

Crossing his arms at the other man’s first question, he presses his index finger to his forehead in thought, trying to figure out how to word it in the most positive way possible.]

Well… right now, they’re only offering a two-percent cut of profits for a week, in exchange for being able to say that they have our backing, but I think I can get that up to at least five- to eight-percent, by the end of the week.

[He lowers his hand in time for Mr. Gavin’s second question, and it’s all he can do to keep his lip from curling in a little bit of disgust. It wasn’t that he disliked the tea, really, it was that… tea was something Mr. Gavin always drank.]

Uh, sure… I’ll get it, don’t bother, sir.

[Kristoph regards Apollo carefully, taking in that slight lift of his chin; that crossing of his arms. Defiant to the last; his little bodyguard. Defiant, yet hardworking, and apparently loyal, if only due to their agreement.]

Two percent, hm? It is something to consider, however, you may tell them that we will not settle for less than five. If you are able to negotiate eight, then that is all the better, but five would suffice, to start.

[Drawing his hand back in, he nods, content to allow Apollo to get his own tea. He does, however, move to gather an infuser full of leaves for him, hands busying themselves with that task for a moment, before setting it carefully into one of the ornate cups that accompany the teapot.]

And might I ask what you have been doing with your free time? I assume that you have had a bit? I do not expect you to work twenty-four hours a day, after all.

pianowired:

From what I understand … she’s … possessing mediums, attacking at random.

Keep an eye out, ja?

Am I not always cautious, Klavier?

Have you seen this with your own eyes? Are you certain that it is not simply a story meant to scare people? You know how they are; how much they enjoy creating monsters of which to be afraid. I would not be surprised if this was something such as that.

thedarkersideofjustice:

[Mr. Gavin was smiling. That was almost never a good thing. Apollo’s tense again, like he always is while speaking to his boss, watching to make sure that he’s completely ready for… well, anything. Not like he expected Mr. Gavin to attack him, but… there were so many things that he didn’t want the older man to know, it was hard not to be tense around him.

He just nods at the order to take a seat, pulling the chair out and sitting back-straight, gloved hands loosely crossed over his lap at the wrist. Progress…? Shouldn’t Mr. Gavin already know about this? Choosing his words carefully, Apollo answers,]

Of course not, sir. I’ve been working on what you’ve asked of me — there are several small-time politicians who will answer to you now, and some of the police. I can give you a complete list of their names, if you require it. There’s an underground gambling hall that wants protection from us, and I’m in the middle of negotiating with their leader.

[He doesn’t mention that he’d almost had Flora to work with them — better to keep her out of it. He doesn’t mention anything with the Borscht Bowl, though he’s certain that he could take control of that business fairly easily, or at least have them working with them — after all, Phoenix worked there.]

…That’s all I have to report in the way of progress, sir.

[Apollo’s tension is more than obvious as he takes his seat before him, though it’s nothing out of the ordinary, the other man generally wound tight as a spring whenever Kristoph has the pleasure of being in his company. But then he begins to speak, and what he says is, indeed, sweet. Even if he does know most of it. Even if what Apollo is telling him is simply a recap, a putting together of all of the things that he’s accomplished since he’d come back to work for him.

A quiet sigh, and the blonde leans back in his chair, that small smile remaining on his lips, though it never truly reaches his eyes. At least not in any warm sort of way that one might expect such a thing as a smile to.]

That is quite the list, Mr. Justice. And to think that I ever had any sort of doubt in you, at all. This gambling hall. Tell me: What sort of protection are they looking for, and what do they offer in return? I want you to continue to negotiate with them, of course, as something like that very well could be our first real connection in this world. Small-time politicians are only good for so much, after all. However, think of the possibilities when it comes to a network of businesses such as these. Why, we could be out of this ridiculous apartment in no time at all, if such a thing were to turn out.

[Of course, his expectations are probably far too high for this world, but oh, what pleasure it gives him to imagine such things. And with that, he disentangles his fingers, one hand motioning fluidly toward a silver pot that sits at one corner of his desk.]

Tea, Mr. Justice?

pianowired:

Mmmh, I think she may have existed in our world, also, in fact. You’ve heard of Dahlia Hawthorne, ja?

Dahlia Hawthorne? But of course. Do you mean to suggest, Klavier, that she has become some sort of… malevolent spirit, here in this dimension?

thedarkersideofjustice:

I can be there in a few minutes, sir.

[Fortunately, after all the running around earlier, Apollo’s back in his customary spot in the lobby. It takes less than a minute to pack his laptop into his briefcase and move back up to the apartment he shared with the other two. Really, at this point he’d almost be willing to pay whatever he had to just to get a room down the hall, his own apartment. That wasn’t going to happen any time soon, though.

Three minutes later, he’s knocking on Mr. Gavin’s door.]

You wanted to see me, sir?

[Upon hearing the knock at the door, Kristoph looks up, pen poised just over the paper that he’s been working on, eyes going to the wall clock. Three minutes. A slow smile spreads across his lips as Apollo moves through the door, and he sets the pen down, fingers threading together over the top of his desk.]

Indeed, I did. Please, have a seat, Mr. Justice. I hope that I have not pulled you away from anything too important, however, it has been quite a while since we’ve had a meeting of the formal sort, you and I.

In any case, I would like to discuss your progress; to be updated on it, if you will.

pianowired:

Merely ensuring your proper protection, of course~

It seems there is a … ghostly psychopath on the loose.

Natürlich, I was merely asking Herr Forehead to keep an extra eye on you.

A ‘ghostly psychopath’, hm?

Well then, I suppose that a bit of thanks might be in order. Assuming that this is not complete and utter nonsense.

Ghosts, Klavier? Is this really all that we have to fear, here in this world?