noli timere messorem (defyuntildeath) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-02-08 07:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | kali, loki |
all my life
Who: Jayati and Nishka
What: Introduction, deal making
When: Nov 1 2016 (backdated, date may change after mun discussion)
Where: Outside area of a coffee shop, New Port Beach, CA (subject to change after mun discussion)
Getting your information under the table from 'shady' sources could be a little touch and go when it comes to both availability (intermittent on occasion) and reliableness of it. This time however the information had been good; Nishka Adeline Bariss, 35, currently living in Newport Beach, CA after only recently moving there. Lawyer, very good at her chosen profession, not dirty but perhaps open to persuasion.
However she tried to go by her own assessments instead of staking her life on other people's judgements, not doing any of your own scouting could get you killed. At that thought she rubbed at the scar along her jaw as the waitress came back by to refill her coffee.
She had watched Nishka for a week after finding that the current address given to her was good, and had considered just knocking on her door like a normal, semi civilized human being. But there was a wariness in her bones that had not been there before what felt like a still fairly recent betrayal. A need to keep whatever advantages she had and that included a division between work and personal, and to keep things out of possible enemies territory and on neutral ground.
Instead, she had picked out a route that Nishka was most likely to take in the early evening towards one of her favorite locales and found a sandwich shop/deli where the seating area would put them in easy visual range of one another and waited until she saw the other round the corner.
Truthfully, she had only been in California for a week, after spending nearly two weeks on the road. But she could only pace in her motel so often, she was antsy and needed to get shit going before her money started to burn away in earnest. So she had cut a few inches off of her hair, put some blonde streaks in it from a box and tried not to dress like a former thug yankee and made herself busy.
Finally, she saw her round the corner and as she approached a boot extended to kick out the metal chair in front of her noisily, "Nishka, fancy seeing you here! Have a seat, I'll buy ya' a cup." Curbing her accent wasn't something she was good at, and she didn't even try.