Sven's

“Did you get your car back from your friend? I hope it‘s alright,” the lady asks.

"Of course, of course," I say smoothly. "The car -- and the friend -- are quite alright. You know how friends can be sometimes." I hail Sven and get another glass of water. I'm starting to get the impression he's not into me drinking only the free stuff. But he delivers anyway. "Frankly, I'm not too fond of people using my things without my permission, but I can be a very forgiving individual," I say to Miss... hmm, I haven't gotten her name yet. We'll have to remedy that.

"I was always taught to make two friends for every enemy and you, madame, seem like a very friendly lady." I say this with a glance towred her new pal, who seems to be sizing me up. He's a little too friendly. Seems like he may have a slight case of 'the gay' -- he's staring a little too hard. Is there a lot of that sort of thing in this city?

"Anywho, what's your name," I ask her, "since i've already given mine?"

"Of course, of course," I say smoothly. "The car -- and the friend -- are quite alright. You know how friends can be sometimes."

I smile, but refrain from nodding my head. I don’t at all know what friends can be like. I haven’t got or had any. In fathers words ‘no one outside the organisation is worth knowing. Unless of course it benefit’s the family.’ I wonder just how much he really knows about his stolen car…

"Frankly, I'm not too fond of people using my things without my permission, but I can be a very forgiving individual,"

“How very tragic, no doubt karma will collect on your friend. Karma is not as forgiving as yourself Great Fitz Magee.”

I will be that karma, this man is no good to me, I can picture him now all thumbs some pimply teenager.

"I was always taught to make two friends for every enemy and you, madam, seem like a very friendly lady."

I politely smile at him and decide the most delicate way to blow off that statement. “I see I say simply, however is it not wiser to keep friends from your own fold?”
I’m still wary of this guy, he seems a little to sure, nothing wrong with a good self esteem. However it won’t get you everywhere. He asks my name.

“You may call me whatever you wish,” I tease. “Most others call me harmony…”
I’m starting to think I should change my name already, two people outside the chapter knowing it is bad enough. I don’t even know what they can offer me yet. I only ever take on friends with benefits and then I call those associates. When the cops ask questions I don’t name them at all. I turn to Kingston, feeling bad that he has been left out of the conversation.

“This, is The Great Fitz Magee. We‘ve only just met, Great Fitz Magee this is Solomon Kingston san,” I introduce the pair.

“How very tragic, no doubt karma will collect on your friend. Karma is not as forgiving as yourself Great Fitz Mcgee,” she says.

"No harm, no foul," I say. "Karma has no price to collect. Forgiveness, in this case, is free." I take another sip of my water and give her a very curious look, with one eyebrow raised. "But you seem to be taking this tragic turn of events harder than I. I can't fathom why that might be."

“I see," she says simply, "however is it not wiser to keep friends from your own fold?”

"Wise? About as wise as putting one's eggs in a single basket. But to each his -- or her -- own. Personally, I prefer to keep friends, family, and co-workers separate, but I suppose lumping them all together couldn't hurt."

“You may call me whatever you wish,” she says. “Most others call me harmony…” She turns and introduces me to her friend. “This, is The Great Fitz Mcgee. We‘ve only just met, Great Fitz Mcgee this is Solomon Kingston san.”

"Most others don't use the 'Great' on my title," I say, speaking to neither in particular. I'm pretty sure she was mocking me every time she used it anyway. I get the feeling I'm not being taken seriously. Good; that's when I do my best work. "We're all friends here. You're more than welcome to leave it off, Harmony," I say, admiring her name. It's got a nice ring to it. "And you too... sir," I add. I almost called him King Solomon. I don't think I can say his name without taking it in that logical direction. But he's no King Solomon. That name is far too epic for him, whoever he is.

"No harm, no foul," I say. "Karma has no price to collect. Forgiveness, in this case, is free." I take another sip of my water and give her a very curious look, with one eyebrow raised. "But you seem to be taking this tragic turn of events harder than I. I can't fathom why that might be."

I look at him bemused, I don’t recall acting in such a manner…But if he says so.
“No, not at all. It‘s not like it was my car. I‘m simply showing sympathy for your misfortune. You don‘t appreciate the sympathy of others?”

"Wise? About as wise as putting one's eggs in a single basket. But to each his -- or her -- own. Personally, I prefer to keep friends, family, and co-workers separate, but I suppose lumping them all together couldn't hurt." He says.

I study him bemused, a shrewd business man does not mix business nor friends, but at times family…now that’s another story. I simply acknowledge the statement with a smile.

"We're all friends here. You're more than welcome to leave it off, Harmony," I say, admiring her name. It's got a nice ring to it. "And you too... sir,"

I study him, friends…That’s what he thinks. We’ll chat he’ll grow bored and leave. Perhaps the same with Mr Solomon. I don’t draw those I don’t feel a need for into my word. Friends, family possible lovers. My job took higher meaning then those things. I’d die without love if I had to. After all that was what a good daughter did.

“Fine, Fitz sama,” I throw in the honorific, though I don’t know if he’ll understand it or not.

“No, not at all," Harmony says. "It‘s not like it was my car. I‘m simply showing sympathy for your misfortune. You don‘t appreciate the sympathy of others?”

I smiled in response. "I do. Therefore, I feel that sympathy should be repayed in some way. I don't know how the cello business is treating you, but I know importing vehicles is not for the faint of finance. Thus, I assume you came to America sans an automobile? If you ever need a lift, or just want a little chit chat, you know who to call," I say, giving her my card. It's got my name and number on it. Nothing else. Enigmatic as always.

“Fine, Fitz sama,” she says in response to my little tip about the name.

"Oh, you honor me, madame," I say. I'm not too fond of the Japanese stuff, but I know 'sama' is good. Better than 'san'. Does that mean she holds me in higher regard than King Solitaire over there? I can't help but grin a little. Niiiiice.

"I do. Therefore, I feel that sympathy should be repayed in some way. I don't know how the cello business is treating you, but I know importing vehicles is not for the faint of finance. Thus, I assume you came to America sans an automobile? If you ever need a lift, or just want a little chit chat, you know who to call," I say, giving her my card.

I study the card bemused. I didn’t see it as being in his personality to hold business cards.

I grin at him, “Oh I‘m never in need of a ‘lift’ However perhaps we‘ll run into each other again…”

I wonder at his agenda, it hasn’t occurred to me up until now that he might be trying to get into my pants. However I think if he was I would see it straight away. It can’t be that…

"Oh, you honour me, madam," I say.

My mind comes to a screeching halt perhaps not…I would like to know more about this man. If time will allow me to. However I can’t have him mixing with my true business. I change my mind about my previous statement.

“Perhaps, since you‘re a little more street wise then I…we could go out for a meal. I‘ll pay my way…I‘d like to know a little more about American culture…for my well being.”

“Oh I‘m never in need of a ‘lift’ However perhaps we‘ll run into each other again," she says. "Perhaps, since you‘re a little more street wise then I…we could go out for a meal. I‘ll pay my way…I‘d like to know a little more about American culture…for my well being.”

"Your being is quite well, indeed," I say with a smile. "I certainly wouldn't mind doing lunch sometime. Or dinner or breakfast or whatever." I think it's pretty obvious what you're thinking about doing, Fitz. Typical... I don't appreciate you insinuating such things, Daisy. I don't appreciate you picking up hoes in bars. I don't appreciate the little voice in my head telling me what to do. Ugh! Please be quiet while the real people are talking. Thanks.

"Anytime Miss Harmony," I went on. "We can get together and discuss your celloing and my... whatever it is I do." Getting in close with a car thief isn't exactly a good way to start things off in a new town, you know. It's called networking. Watch closely, you might learn a thing or two. You know what she is. And she's probably got connections in the East. You're gonna get in deep before you even know what's what. Deep waters. Big fish. Deep waters. Bigger waves. Fair enough. You win. So you're gonna take my advice and stay away from her? Hell no.

"I look forward to hearing from you," I say to Harmony with a smile.

I blacked out momentarily, coming back to the unique personality being asked to dine out by Harmony. She's not the traditional lady, lucky him. He looks like he hasn't been able to keep a woman too long. Is he psycho?

The lines he occasionally hurls at her make me believe it's a calculated craziness this Fitz Mcgee is working with. I nod and grin to myself as he lays it on thick, impressed that the lady is taking to the words ever so kindly. I go back to my Jack and Coke.

"Your being is quite well, indeed," he says with a smile. "I certainly wouldn't mind doing lunch sometime. Or dinner or breakfast or whatever."

I study him thoughtful, it almost sounds as though his ready whenever I am. I’ll make sure I do go with him for a meal. First I need to see about the operations here in New Avarus and who my competition might be. The number one though is to keep myself out of the spotlight. The vagrants here run motorcycle gangs. Then there’s the money lending and the punters. Car races, bike races and rebirthing of all things hot. They had been trying to get into the horses and hounds trying to fix races. However it would seem there is bigger muscle on that scene. The selling and manufacturing of illegal substances also came into play, however it was early days yet. Apparently there was talk about offing other peddlers to lift the price of what we were selling, however someone is scared of something…

"Anytime Miss Harmony," he goes on. "We can get together and discuss your celloing and my... whatever it is I do."

I find his vague way of saying things entertaining. However I doubt the delightful Mr Solomon has much of an idea what’s happening. Now he’s another interesting character I would like to keep around. I’m not overly sure what the benefit would be, that’s okay for now I just need to know the ropes of this place.

"I look forward to hearing from you," he says to with a smile.

It almost sounds like his cue to leave. Isaac must be getting annoyed with me anyway, sitting in here like some regal princess. To bad I’m the boss now.

“I‘m sure,” I reply. I look outside at the rain. My mind is rushing with excitement I can’t wait to get into my work, to make it count.

"I see you at a desk, not out in the field, but then again," I look over to him, my eyes piercing deep, "I have been proven wrong."

I snort at the man's comment. Desk work I couldn't think of anything more mundane. Knew from when I was a kid that I couldn't do something routine. Something that was the same every day. Something that made no difference. I wasn't trying to be famous but I liked knowing no matter how small I had some kind of influence on the environment around me. If I'd have worked in an office I think I would have take two pencils rammed them up my nose and smashed my head into the desk long ago. I don't do repetitive meaningless jobs. Sure I respect the folks that do but that just ain't me.

God he was looking at me intently what was this some kind of weird challenge? Prove him wrong... How'd a guy do that? Smash his face into the bar and arrest him to make a point that I wasn't the office type. I felt my mouth twitch as my lips curled into a smile at the sadistic thought. Not quite appropriate though. There’s another conversation going on nearby but I don't pay it much attention just two blokes trying to get a little company and warmth in their beds tonight I tell myself. Little to early to be trying that I think unless they had some serious stamina. Not the kind of thing I wanted to consider though.

"I like a bit of variation, a bit of action. Admittedly the police is a bit more limited than I expected thanks to the governments restrictions but still it’s a step up from the rest I couldn’t think of much more of a legitimate job with this variation except the army. I would say that’s too risky but from what I gather Avarus goers can have a shorter life span..." I leave the statement hanging for a moment before I go on. "You don't strike me as the office type either. In fact you strike me as the kind of guy that levels them." Well I was in a vigilante bar perhaps that was the look he was going for perhaps that was one of his exploits.

"I like a bit of variation, a bit of action. Admittedly the police is a bit more limited than I expected thanks to the governments restrictions but still it’s a step up from the rest I couldn’t think of much more of a legitimate job with this variation except the army. I would say that’s too risky but from what I gather Avarus goers can have a shorter life span..." I leave the statement hanging for a moment before I go on. "You don't strike me as the office type either. In fact you strike me as the kind of guy that levels them."

I grunt, drinking my foul bear, "I respect you, I suppose you could say that, but its too loud, too risky, why go for a frontal assault when you can slowly poison from within. The best way to kill your victims."

The man speaks curiously I found it strange that he was happy to discuss killing people in front of a cop he barely knew. Over trusting or baiting me I wondered. Either way I wasn't going to act on it not unless he turned round and said he did it to innocent people anyway. He gave respect easily and I wondered if his trust in people had every got him in trouble before.

My glass was barren once more and I wondered what to do. I'd already got a free drink and didn't want to not pay for anything in this place before leaving but then again I didn't want to get drunk but neither did this strike me as the kind of place I should just order a cup of tea. Guess I could make a compromise.

"Beck's non alcoholic?" I question Sven wondering if he stocks such a thing as I push my glass across the bar. I needed to find a place to live at some point today couldn't just be jumping from motel and hotel rooms every night. I wonder if it’s worth asking about property and decide I might as well. "Say any idea where to go or where’s best to get a place around here?" I leave the question open for anyone to answer best way to do it not that I know whose listening.

"Say any idea where to go or where’s best to get a place around here?" A man in an overcoat asked.

I turned towards the man, now that both the Great Fitz Magee and King were silent.

“My father has a few properties, that is if you‘re after something to rent,” I say to him. I’m not to sure if he is selling any at the moment, it’s not needed to give false hopes. The man is interesting, he feels…forbidden. Like he has a thousand secrets plaguing him and won’t spill a single one. I smile graciously at him.

"I was considering buying but if I found the right property I would be happy to rent." I decide not to voice the opinion that the pro of renting was that if I drew to much attention to myself here it wouldn't be quite as painful if my rented property got firebombed. Statements like that tend to result in refusal no matter how good a credit history or previous landlord referrals you get.

I'd managed to get myself involved with the woman that seemed to be commanding the attention of the other men. I was different however she'd choose to engage in conversation opposed to the others who had approached her more directly. Still this was a business transaction such a conversation meant little. She's half your age old man stop trying to pride yourself over the fact she's talking to you your old enough to have done business transactions with her father before she was even conceived.

Sven's tending to his regulars probably having a little chit chat discussing the sudden influx of custom. It was bizarre for it to be full of so many places still it made it easier for him to fit in. If people felt just as alien as him then that helped after all he didn't have his looks to play on to get others to approach him like the vixen he was conversing with now.

"A few properties? Your father sounds quite the Entrepreneur…” I wonder if he's a straight edge man and your his rebellious daughter involved with the underworld to hurt him or if your just following in daddy's footsteps. Interesting question one not best to ask when setting first impressions though.

It was hard to suppress my laughter as I listened to the rich little daddy's girl and the cop discussing renting and buying. What's so funny? Nothing, really. I'm just proud of daddy's little celloist. A car thief, a real estate agent, and a pretty face to hide it all behind. Simply amazing. She's nothing. The real estate is her father's and I'm willing to bet she doesn't know anything about cars other than who to call when she wants one stolen. She's nothing more than a rich b**ch pretending she knows what goes on in the underworld. Settle down, now. You're entitled to your own opinions, but I'd prefer you keep them out of my head. Don't make a fool of us, Fitz. I'm warning you. Would I ever do such a thing?

After I was done consulting with my 'agent' I turned to Graham, who was just finishing up consulting with his. "Looking for a place to live, ol' chap?" I said with a friendly pat on the shoulder. He almost spilled his whiskey or whatever it was he was drinkin'. "I thought little piggies built their houses themselves, out of sticks and bricks and whatnot? ...Or are you afraid the big bad wolf will huff and puff and blow it all down?" I grinned at him to see how he was taking it. I like him more than most cops I've met. He earned major points just for getting in the door.

I had been taking in the discussions between Harmony and every other man in the bar besides me that was interested in her. It was becoming apparent that I wasn't going to be able to gain an edge in attracting her attention, so I kept to myself and finished my Jack and Coke.

Harmony mentioned something about properties. Had I been a mind-reader, I probably would have advised her against giving up such information anywhere in this city. With all the cutthroats and petty thieves I've been asked to "take care of," I have the toughest time believing there's one soul from here even worth saving. Perhaps I'll do them a favor and set the city ablaze after collecting my money for the contracts I've been given. Speaking of which, what time is it?

"I thought little piggies built their houses themselves, out of sticks and bricks and whatnot? ...Or are you afraid the big bad wolf will huff and puff and blow it all down?"

"That's for the little pigs that like to squel when they're in danger. Guess you would call me the smarter one that roasts the wolf alive." I clicked my knuckles as I said it. Hated been called a pig but I didn't mind joining in with a witty retort though mixed with an air of menace.

"I've got a lot of wolfs to roast so I'm going to need a strong house with an alluring chimney and extravagant fireplace wouldn't you say?" I listened to my voice and almost cringed at the s*** i was talking. Still conversation was conversation. Let them know where ya stand aye.

"That's for the little pigs that like to squeal when they're in danger. Guess you would call me the smarter one that roasts the wolf alive," the cops said, crackin' his knuckles. "I've got a lot of wolfs to roast so I'm going to need a strong house with an alluring chimney and extravagant fireplace wouldn't you say?"

"Roast the wolf... No, I dont think I've heard that one before," I say, finishing off my glass of water. Sven doesn't look like he's giving any more free waters, so I don't even bother to ask. I consider ordering a real drink but decide against it. That's just not my style. "Good luck with your hunting, Grammie," I say to the cop, while I sit staring into my empty glass, "the house and the wolf. And try not to get roasted yourself."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you the end of the tale? Maybe you got it sugarcoated. Maybe all your pigs ran to the others house and took shelter and the big bad wolf gave up but in the harsh reality the first two pigs got eaten then the wolf was greedy and went after the final one only he couldn't blow the house down because it was made of brick. It tried befriending him but he didn't fall for trickery or bribery so it thought it would climb down the chimney. Only the pig was to smart for that he made a fire and got a cooking pot and placed it underneath and waited for the wolf to fall into it. And thanks."

I gotta say discussing fairy tale endings wasn't exactly what I'd expected when I entered this joint. What was next, whats your favourite disney character? Wolf hunting. It sounded fun. I was looking forward to it.

"Meh, there's about a million different versions of that tale," I say, still having a staring contest with my empty glass. Still losing. I turn to Graham again and wonder if he's heard the version where the third pig is a voodoo master and brings his dead brothers back to avenge their deaths by feasting upon wolf brains. You just made that up. All stories are made up. It makes little difference in the end. "But I'm yet to hear a version where two out of three pigs don't die. Kinda says something about the life expectancy of the average police officer, don't it? 66% chance you'll be swimming with cement shoes, Mr. Griffin. I can see why you're so determined to beat those odds."

"I was considering buying but if I found the right property I would be happy to rent." The man says.

I nod my head and slid a business card across the table. “These are my fathers agents,”

"A few properties? Your father sounds quite the Entrepreneur…” he continues I study him thoughtfully. He is and he likes to put his nose in a good many places. My father is a very rich man. I like most of his employees get a wage. Now that I can no longer live with him. I’ll have to start using my money instead of allowing it to accumulate in the bank. If thinks get bad I may even have to start taking on a darker profession. The one I thought I left back in Japan. I simply nod again at the man.

Fitz starts a conversation with the man and I soon learn he is a police officer. It’s nothing to worry about. Keeping your mouth closed and staying a foot ahead of the game is always a priority of mine. It comes from living life with police officers constantly coming in and out of it.

They continue to outwit each other and a man approaches me with a helmet. With a quick signal I understand he’s one of mine and I follow him outside. I chose not to talk about the failed boost and instead study the two ninja’s parked near the old piece of rubbish with racing stripes.

I look the bikes up and down, show room condition and this years model, I’m very impressed. The bikes are stock standard nothing on them has been changed. Your general manual bike, rear wheel chain driven and bright red. Such a cheerful colour, on an bike that will forever impress me.

“Very nice,” I finally say to the man that’s brought them to me.

He nods, “straight off the showroom floor gifts from your father.”

“So you get one too? What‘s the special occasion?” I ask.

He shrugs, “I brought my own bike, with a generous raise for something special we‘ve been working on lately.”

“Oh? More special then usual what might that be?” I say.

He grins, “I‘ll show you later when you come by the warehouse. As you know your father likes to have his finger in a lot of different things. He‘s not confined to one area of work.”

I smile, much entertained. He’s right, father’s influence comes from the Yakuza. His father worked for them. Grandfather never got to far up the ladder. He died in debt. My father had been watching from the sidelines learning what not to do and what to do. If he wanted he probably could have started with the Yakuza, he chose instead to exact revenge on those men in his own special way. To show them he could make it as big as they had.

"Kinda says something about the life expectancy of the average police officer, don't it? 66% chance you'll be swimming with cement shoes, Mr. Griffin. I can see why you're so determined to beat those odds."

"The average police officer doesn't frequent places like this does he. Well maybe he does but I find I'm a much better swimmer than them without the cement shoes. We're always working with odds. Did you know there’s 1 in 71 odds I'll commit suicide opposed to 1 in 140 that I'll get murdered? Interesting fact that of course my favourite statistic is somewhat bizarre something like 1 in 6000 that your kill yourself from shaving how many times do you think we shave in our lifetime? We've got to start pushing it at some point right?"

“These are my fathers agents,”

The lady slips over a card when I'm done with my strange talk and I accept it gratefully. Should prove useful. I pocket the card and go to thank her but she's already departing without a word to the people she's been socialising with. Clearly manners weren't her forte or maybe she was just burning them to keep them interested. Either way it was of little concern to me. I wonder how much longer I should stay here before I depart and investigate the housing market lead she had provided. If I got nothing else out of this visit at least I got that. That and 2 whiskeys to upset my ever complaining liver. It was getting off lightly recently that had accompanied my breakfast and been the beginning of a blur of a day that melded into a week of self pity. Good job I was past that now.