milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ramon is in the bar and is not in a good mood at all. No particular reason, he just gets like that sometimes. Company could either make it worse, or better, depending on who you are and what you have to say. Either way, he'd like to talk to someone because being pissed off on your own is never as much fun.

[OOC: Irish firebomb!tag: Fiona Glenanne]

[OOC: 2:30am and I have to hit the hay. Am around for slowtimes...well, until forever, practically. Catch y'all tomorrow!]

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'Mmmhmm.'

He doesn't sound surprised, or curious, or anything. He doesn't need to know why the man wants it.

'When?

Is it a human you're trying to kill?

And do you have the money?'

The last question is, to him, the most important.

Jason nods. "I've got the money. I keep a direct line to my account here."

He'd been saving it for a place for Khemrys, but now...

"No. I'd need special ammo. Glaser Safety Rounds is what a friend of mine uses, but I think she tips them with silver. It'd be a custom order for you, I'd think."

He takes a long swallow of his beer. "As soon as you can get them...I'm not looking to wait long."

'For a werewolf,' he says flatly, thinking. He can't go home just now but he has two other worlds he has access to and people who can work with weapons on both.

'Do you know if your friend uses them with any particular weapon or are you not bothered? If you want power, I'd suggest a forty-five. And they're expensive.'

Must reiterate the cost. He's not about to let Jason screw him on this, though he supposes it wouldn't be too hard to shift silver tipped bullets in Milliways.

"Look, I know jack shit about guns. I just know that I need something that's going to be small and cause a lot of damage."

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "How much are we talking here?"

He contemplates, weighing up the cost against what Jason looks like he can afford against profit against how much the guy obviously needs this.

'I'll do you the gun itself for five hundred. The ammo will be a lot more - how many bullets do you need?'

Jason takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He doesn't argue, because going through Ramon will be a hell of a lot easier than trying not ot get caught buying one in his world. Or rather, the fucked up version of his world.

He closes his eyes, obviously doing some mental calculations.

"Do...do they come in certain amounts?"

It's obvious he knows nothing at all about guns.

'Five hundred is cheap for a hand gun,' he tells him, in case he was getting ideas about taking his business elsewhere. And shakes his head.

'A custom order, you can have as many or as few as you want. Probably be a bit cheaper overall if you buy more, but its up to you.'

"Ok."

His brow knits as he tries to think. Damn it, he just wished Anita was here.

"If I can't get the job done with a few shots, I'm not going to be needing any more."

'So...four? Six?'

He's internally quite amused that Jason is obviously quite poor.

Jason sighs. "Make it six." He's really hoping he doesn't need any more than that.

By Ramon's standards he's likely in a poverty state, but when in his own version of his world, between work and Jean Claude's gifts, he lives very well.

He nods, all business.

'I would guess that it'll come in at somethink like two thousand for the ammo but I won't be able to tell you for sure until I speak to the guy who's going to make them for you. Do you want me to get the price and come back to you or should I just tell him to go ahead and make them anyway?'

He refrains from cursing. He can think of a lot of things he'd buy with two thousand. But then, can he put a price on seeing those two dead...again?

He shakes his head. "No. Just get them made. Do you need money down?"

Ramon laughs shortly and reaches for his drink.

'No. I imagine you're good for it. And if it turns out you're not...well, I'll have this shiny new gun and six silver-tipped bullets to put in it, see?'

And Jason knows very well that he'd do it.

"I'm good for it," he mutters quietly.

He drains the rest of his beer and waves to Ivanhoe for another.

"I'm a...businessman such as yourself doesn't need to be asked to keep this quiet?"

He shrugs a shoulder languidly, looking amused.

'If that's what you want. It's not like I give a damn who you're planning on killing, as long as it isn't me.'

Jason gives him a friendly smile.

"No, I wouldn't need silver tipped ammo for that. Though I'm sure it'd still do the trick."

Ramon eyes him steadily, unconcerned.

'You may find it wouldn't be as easy as it might have been years ago. And you can keep your veiled threats to yourself if you want me to get this stuff for you.'

The not-so-veiled too.

Jason's eyes roll. "I have no intention of fighting with you. Arithon wouldn't like it."

He knows what Arithon can do, but he's more afraid of losing his friendship. Though only marginally.

Arithon can be scary as hell.

His beer arrives and he gratefully tilts it back, trying to wash away his next words. "I'm sorry." (Oh, it really is hard)

'Sorry? For what?'

Confusing! Ramon wasn't insulted by the threat. He's nfinitely more comfortable when people are at odds with him, to ge honest.

'No need to apologise. You're right about Arithon not liking it but he's not here so I wouldn't worry about that.'

Jason lets out a breath. "I'm sorry for not keeping the conversation on business. You get me the gun and ammo; I'll get you the money; and then we can both go back to our respective opinions about each other."

Ramon laughs and pulls a cigarette from his pocket, lights it.

'Fine fine. Should I leave a note at bar when I have it or will you be around?'

He shakes his head. "Not going anywhere until I have it. But I want to know as soon as you have it, so if you don't see me right away, leave a note. Or snag one of the rats to find me."

Jason eyes the cigarette. The one he bummed from Asar-Suti was nice...maybe he'd have to make a habit of smoking with people he thought were assholes.

He nods to Ramon's pocket. "Got another one of those?"

He looks surprised. Maybe with Jason being a werewolf, he'd assume the smell or taste or whatever would be horrible to him. Whatever.

'Sure.'

The pack is produced and tossed towards the other guy.

'Keep those if you like. I have more.'

Jason nods, a cigarette already resting between his lips. "Thanks."

The smell and taste is really strong to him, but the nicotine makes up for it. It'd been a long time since he'd had a smoke, and it was a nice feeling to do it again.

"Fire?"

That makes him laugh as he reaches for his Zippo and holds it out. Jason sounds like a ten year old on his first smoke, unsure of what to do.

'Yeah.

...new to this?'