closed ♔ fed on nothing but full of pride

[behindcloseddoors]

♬ devil inside (cover) - london grammar

WHO || Sark, Nicholas St. Andrew, Audrey Petersen[Closed]
WHAT || Sark severs ties with the Children of Chaos
WHERE || London, England
WHEN || April, 2014 [backdated]
HOW || Actionspam. Single thread, don't worry about maintaining tagging order.

Sark's employment with the organization known rather heavyhanded-ly as the Children of Chaoas has certainly been... profitable for him. And for Nicholas St. Andrew, charismatic leader of the organization itself, who has paid him exorbitant amounts to 'recover' various artifacts for him, ostensibly in the private collections of others around the world. Individually, there seemed little worth noting from the sort of things being collected, but a pattern began to emerge that was difficult to ignore: sacrificial daggers, scrolls and tomes to fill a library, several stone and ivory altars...

Sark's returned from one such job - recovering three sacred ancient urns - and is sent up to see St. Andrew in his office.

Comments

[certainproclivity]

[Sark wastes no time when he enters the office, stepping up the desk and flipping the large case he carried in with him onto whatever empty space will surface. He flicks the latches and pulls open the lid, revealing the urns nestled safely inside. His expression, as always, is unreadable, even as he regards St. Andrew from across the desk.]

I trust you have no complaints per usual.

[fatherofchaos]

[ nicholas moves to set down a file that he was flipping through while standing at the window, and sark catches the name "Barrik" sprawled along the label, before st. andrew turns the case so as to cover it, as if to get a better view of the urns. he examines them with hands clasped behind his back, leaning in to study them with a look of satisfaction before straightening up. ] You've certainly yet to disappoint, my friend.

[certainproclivity]

I make it my business not to, Mr. St. Andrew. [He tilts his chin up slightly and his eyes fall on the urns, a perceptible twitch forming at the edge of his jawline. He has certainly not missed the implications of all these artifacts (wis 15)] I know it isn't my place to comment on such matters, but you seem to be building quite an unusual collection.

[fatherofchaos]

Unusual. [ he repeats the word as if amused, turning from the urns to go pour himself a drink, with a smirk ] It seems to me, Mr. Sark, that whether it's your place or not, you have something to say.

[ he turns once he's finished, gesturing with his glass before taking a swig ] Well? Let's have it.

[certainproclivity]

I simply mean that, and I say this with all due respect, one does have to wonder about your intentions. I think I've earned a bit of full disclosure as to the ends I'm being paid to help you build towards.

[No hint of judgment. Nothing that would belie a trace of nervous apprehension. Because he's not judging- or nervous. It's just not to his personal taste. People are murdered or die all the time thanks to things he's hired to do, but ritual sacrifice is probably a bit over the line.]

[fatherofchaos]

[ he studies his expression for a bit, taking all that in. ] Just how much do you know about what the Children of Chaos stand for?

[certainproclivity]

Enough. [That's a vague as hell answer, but he doesn't care to admit exactly how much he's gleaned and found out.] Of course, I am merely assisting your organization on the fringes of it. I don't mean to make presumptions about your ultimate endgame, sir. I'm only curious.

[fatherofchaos]

My endgame. [ he smirks at that, setting down the glass as he moves to look out the window ] Ah yes.

If you know enough about the Children, then you know what their membership is mostly composed of, I assume.

Short-sighted, zealous maniacs, power-hungry fanatics, who are in many cases, functioning sociopaths. [ he turns to look at sark again, tilting his head ] Idiots. In a word.

[certainproclivity]

[Something Sark is decidedly not. Then again, he's not really invested in chaos for chaos's sake. It's a job, for certain. But genocide and destruction with no real agenda or gain beyond... whatever the hell they're getting from this Project Mayhem bullshit.]

I suppose if your objective is chaos, inefficiency is key. It keeps them from thinking too much on what might really be happening around them. [He cants his head.] You're no fool, Mr. St. Andrew, and nor am I.

[fatherofchaos]

If my objective were chaos, that would be entirely true. But chaos isn't an objective worth pursuing. Anarchy is no more a sustainable system than anything else in this world. It does, however, attract the appropriate element for the work I need completed. Their beliefs make them, well...

Malleable, I suppose you might say. Ideal, really. And the abstract nature of the power they pursue makes them quite flexible as well, and not easily frustrated when they don't receive the benefits they so desire.

[certainproclivity]

And they don't ask as many questions. [He folds his hands behind his back, smirking at the irony of such a statement.] It's a wonderful scheme, to be certain. Flexible, expendable operatives whose personal agendas not only avoid conflicting with yours, but aide in its completion. I daresay I'm impressed. Truly I am. Which is precisely why all of this piques my curiosity, in the first place.

[fatherofchaos]

And I'd love to be able to tell you more, my friend, and yet-- [ whatever he meant to say is cut off, however, by the door being thrown open by a woman who looks in an absolute tizzy about something, mid-way into ranting as she opens the door before seeing sark and stopping. "Nicholas, that was a disaster and a half, if you had any idea what I'd been through--" ]

[certainproclivity]

[Annnd Sark recognizes her with another awesome wis check, because he's fucking on fire today. (wis 20 total) He gives her a look as if to say NO DON'T STOP TALKING ON MY ACCOUNT and smirks a bit. Just to, you know, annoy her about the fact that he's here.] Mrs. Peterson. How lovely of you to join us.

1/2

[mislabeled]

[ jfc sark, she turns to look at him like BITCH PLZ just for... being there. ] I didn't know you had company.

[fatherofchaos]

Mr. Sark was just leaving, I believe. [ he moves closer to her, tilting his head as if he's checking her out, or... looking for something, more likely. ] At least tell me you were successful.

[certainproclivity]

Well, now I have to hear Mrs. Peterson's story. [Still smirking. #greatworkdynamics]

1/2

[fatherofchaos]

It's alright, my dear. You may speak freely. [ he gestures for her to continue as she draws out two small totems from her pockets. nicholas takes them and encloses them in his hand, meaning its difficult to see much of them as he takes them back to his desk, pulling out a handkerchief to wrap them in ]

[mislabeled]

[ audrey looks (unsure) but moves to sit in the seat across from his desk, legs crossed, as she flips some hair over her shoulder with one hand ]

Wynn sent in the Knights, just as you hoped. But they suspected me immediately. I think they had a telepath. I was hoping to slip out from the hospital, but Wynn sent Helen Magnus and several other Knights to intercept before they could even direct me into an ambulance.

[certainproclivity]

[Sark's smirk fades.] I suppose this is going to put dear Mr. Peterson in something of a bind.

[Good job, woman.] After all, there's only so much a devoted husband's willing suspension of belief can endure.

[fatherofchaos]

It seems, perhaps, it would be best if you simply laid low for the time being. Perhaps his suspicion will give way to concern. The Knights do love to believe the best of everyone. He may think you were coerced into assisting me.

[certainproclivity]

If all else fails, I imagine you're not above forging your own ransom note. Grief may lead him to lash out at his employers for insinuating your intentions could have been anything less than the desperate acts of a woman attempting to protect her family.

[mislabeled]

I'm not planning on remaining in hiding forever. But this was meant to discredit Grant, not me, and those fools put that plan in jeopardy.

[certainproclivity]

There may still be a chance to turn the tables on them. [Sark glances at St. Andrew.] A desperate wife worried that the organization her devious husband works for might choose his word over hers. The spin could be worth the frustration.

[He turns back to Audrey.] You're a clever woman, I'm certain you can make it work. Unfortunately, the telepath may be more difficult to fool.

[fatherofchaos]

We have ways of thwarting their kind - if we were prepared for them. Wynn can't have many in his ranks, but we won't take any chances in the future.

[certainproclivity]

If anything, they can't surprise you now. Consider it a learning experience. Speaking as someone who has come out of many learning experiences in significantly less pristine than conditions, it could have gone far worse.

[mislabeled]

I was hoping for better, not worse.

All your men are either dead or captured. I doubt they'll talk - none of them ever do.

[certainproclivity]

There will always be more. Really, I think the status quo remains intact.

[He drums his fingers on the desk, an idle gesture he allows himself.] And everything worth doing has an element of risk involved. I personally enjoy these stakes.

[And little do they know what's on his mind.]

[fatherofchaos]

Rather soon it won't be something we have to worry about. [ with that mysterious comment, he turns to sark: ] But for now, I'm afraid I'll need to speak with Audrey in private for a bit.

[certainproclivity]

Oh, certainly. [He steps away.] You know where to reach me.

[He heads to the door, fully planning on dropping his phone into the nearest body of water. DONE WITH YOU AND YOUR CREEPY BULLSHIT, NICK.

SO DONE.]