Establishing Connections [Open]

[Falenor Xante]

"Do you know him or not?!"

A poor freshman found himself in a rather painful predicament, held up by his throat to his locker with a grip so tight, breathing had become a concious struggle. Gasping for air so that he could speak, the hand around his neck released and the freshman dropped to the floor, holding his throat to cope with the pain.

"Talk."

"Okay fine, I admit it. I don't know him myself but I know someone who does!"

Falenor sighed. Yet again the promise of a lead in his search brought him to a clueless student, clutching at a name to give them influence. It was pathetic but right now, Fal was about to take every chance he could get. Standing tall over the student who had now crumpled on the floor, he cracked his knuckles and adjusted his posture to a dominant stance.

"Your friend is going to be contacting me shortly with any information he has on the serpent. I hope for your sake that you can convince him to do this or you're going to need to learn to write with your left hand, understood?"

The freshman boy nodded, grabbed his bag and stumbled to his feet before running off as fast as he could. Falenor remained perfectly still as the boy retreated and only moved once the sound of rapid footsteps faded to silence. Taking a look around, it was clear that a small number of students had lingered in the area to monitor the situation, others made no effort to mask their stares. Such attention often made people feel awkward but this was simply another chance to assume control of the situation.

Falenor turned to face the crowd and made eye contact with several of the students taking glances at him. A subtle grin formed on his face for a moment before the demanding voice came back.

"Is there some sort of problem here? Last time I checked, nobody saw a thing. That's still the case, right?"

Silence filled the corridor for a moment before being quickly replaced by the sound of students rapidly shuffling away. The grin returned to Falenor's face as he spoke quietly to himself.

"Good."

Reaching to his shirt pocket, Fal retrieved a cigarette and a zippo lighter, placing the cigarette in his mouth and opening the lighter with a simple flick of the wrist. The flint wheel rolled and the flame burst up as a sudden voice caught Falenor's attention causing him to rapidly turn his head and flick the lighter closed.

[Bishop]

"Last time I checked, smoking is prohibited on school grounds."

Aw, yeah. That was witty. Mir mentally patted himself on the back as he stood ten yards away from the troublemaker. Right before his shift as a tutor began today, some freshman came up running to him in a pitiful state. Frowning, he asked him what happened, and all he got was a finger pointing in a direction and some unintelligible nonsense.

"You gotta help me, Mr. Mir. This guy wants to beat me up!"

Bishop had no idea he was getting set up.

So as he stood there, taking a moment to size up the troublemaker of the day, the College student couldn't help but feel something oddly familiar about this guy. His nostrils flared up. He smells like me! His eyes shined brightly as a flash of intelligence passed through them. The young man began to tremble as everything before him turned red.

Rotten to the motherfucking core! A devil against a demon! Blood's reign is nothing compared to that of the Horsemen! Glory in devastation! Pleasure in thy pain! We are the seven flavors of death, the apocalypse's servants', the deadly Vices![/size][/i]

Or maybe it was a flash of stupidity. Shaking his head as he finally snapped out of his trance. With a nod, he returned to a stabler state of mind. Nonchalant idiocy.

"You seem familiar, bro."

[Falenor Xante]

Stupid fucker's about to learn who he's talking to... wait, you.

A wave of nostalgia rushed over Fal, memories came flooding back but they were clouded and little more than faded reminders of times passed. Looking the man up and down seemed far too familiar for this to be a first meeting.

Falenor knew this man from his past. They had met during Fal's time at #552, he was sure of it. There were so many different people in his memory though that he struggled to recall where all of them were from and yet something seemed significant about this man before him.

The lighter quickly slipped back in to Falenor's pocket and the cigarette found itself tucked safely behind his ear as he sized up the figure before him. Whatever this man had done in his past, violence had been involved and it had been enjoyed, that was a distinct feeling that never left Fal.

"I'd thank you for informing me of the no smoking policy but perhaps I should show a little restraint, you are certainly familiar."

A name, there had to be a name. Fal knew he would have made a mental note of the name if it was anyone important in his life but he couldn't remember. Suddenly, an image came to find and it all seemed to click in to place, a chess board held some significance.

"If you are who I think you are, you're comfortable between a knight and a queen. Sound familiar at all?"

That was it, Falenor was sure of it. He had heard the name on the winds long before he had met the man and yet it carried so much power. Perhaps it was time to play it careful until he was sure of this man was.

[Bishop]

"I'll plead the fifth."

Bishop snapped back in a joking tone. He shook his head in disbelief. There were some things he couldn't escape, PHS #552 was apparently one of them. Letting out a resigned sigh, he looked at the young man in front of him as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a used, but sturdy, black notebook. He let out the man out of his attention for a moment as he consulted the cluttered pages of the little book.

"Let's see here," Mir murmured as he continued to search. His eyebrows skipped as he hit the page he wanted.

"Falenor." Said Bishop as he put the booklet back where it belonged. "Former affiliations: Reign of Blood." There was a stern expression on the Persian's face. Falenor and him stood on opposing sides a few years ago. It was a bloody mess. Mir was pretty sure there were actual casualties at the end of the whole conflict.

That little tense moment came to an abrupt end as the young man shrugged.

"Well that's all in the past." Bishop said carelessly. "So what brings you here to sunny California bro?"

[Falenor Xante]

Green eyes followed the man's hand to his back pocket, watching him pull out a black notebook. This was never a great start when someone had written information on Falenor but for now, he'd let it pass. The man had essentially confirmed himself as Bishop by refusing to acknowledge the question so at least Fal had a name to go off. For some reason, the stench of sin hung above this man's head and yet here, he seemed so normal.

"First let me be frank; Reign of Blood is dead and it died long ago. All that remains are memories and blood stains. In regards to why I'm here, if I said it was for the weed would you believe me?"

Falenor smirked, he had indeed obtained a medical card as soon as he was able to, the convenience was incredible. That was not why he had come to California though. There were things Fal hoped to accomplish and this had become the next logical step in his journey. The black notebook in the Bishop's possession had now become the next logical step for more than one reason.

Clicking his neck slightly, Fal relaxed his stance and adjusted his posture so that he might seem approachable. It was all basic body language but subtle changes to the self made huge differences to other people's impressions, he had proved this again and again.

"Truth be told I'm looking for someone and I'll be blunt, I know you're good with information. " Falenor paused for a moment, struggling to recall anything specific about this man, his memories of the past had become increasingly blurred recently. "I remember that you tried to operate a radio station for a time at the school, no easy task. Honestly though, you know where I'm going with this."

In a brief moment, all the relaxation vanished as eyes tightened and Fal's entire face adjusted to show he was serious.

"The serpent is here, I've heard his name again and again and it's time for us to become reacquainted. You owe me no favours but I always repay mine. I need to find him, I need to find Amtrum."

[Bishop]

Bishop didn't mind sharing information, but he also didn't mind getting something out of it. Mir was ready to do some fair business until Falenor pronounced the forbidden word. The Iranian's calm traits twisted into a cringe as he heard that name.

"Amtrum."

Some individuals you don't want to mess with, Mathew Amtrum was one of them. Bishop knew about the snake's much more virtuous, but deceased, relative, Endrin. Oh how he wished that the one that survived was Endrin. So many things in his high school life would have been simpler had it not been for Mathew.

"Tell you what," Mir summoned the black booklet once again. "I'll give you some basic online contact information: Facebook, email, twitter. It's all I have as far as updated information goes. By the end of the week, I should put my hands on the essentials: mobile, address, class schedule."

Mir closed his inviting booklet with a quick snap. His head leaned down as he stared into Falenor's eyes, a half-smirk on his face.

"Considering the fact that we're talking about Mathew here, I'd ask an arm and a leg for this info." He bit his lower lip, considering his options. "As much as your promise of potential repayment is tempting," that last word was soaked in sarcasm, "I'm not fully sold. C'mon Fal, sweeten the deal for me!"

With that he did a quick 'come here' motion with his left hand, asking for more.

[Falenor Xante]

Sweeten the deal?! Well, it was fair enough really when you considered the value of the information the Bishop was waving around. More importantly, Fal found himself playing over the information that was actually available to him at this price and he struggled to believe what he was hearing.

"Twitter? He's on fucking Twitter?"

He wasn't sure exactly what to think about that, a lot of people had found themselves in the way of Falenor's hunt for the serpent and after all that, he was on a stupid social networking site? Fal was amazed he hadn't thought to check it before hand and surely, he would now not need the Bishop's help. He would accept it anyway though, even at a price. An ally once went a long way when it came to hard times.

"Sweetening the deal really is dependant on what it is you want friend. I can get you half a kilo of blow within the hour if that's to your interests but somehow, I doubt it. So what can I offer you? Money or my services which you can trust to be more than adequate for whatever you might need."

Had he really just offered his services over to somebody who may as well be a stranger for information he didn't really need? Perhaps but there was something strange about this boy, things had happened in the past and Falenor was very keen to remember what exactly had taken place. For the briefest of moments, violent thoughts filled Fal's mind as he saw blood running through the halls of #552. People were screaming and shouting all around and they could not escape and there was the Bishop.

The daydream suddenly cut out and Falenor snapped back to reality, desperate for another second of his memories to come to him. Playing his minor hesitation off as an intentional pause for effect allowed Fal to move swiftly back in to conversation, he would have plenty of time for his past in the future. Taking two bold steps forward, Falenor made eye contact with the man before him and kept it there, searching for any window to the soul but finding nothing.

"Tell me, friend. What is it you want of me? I'm ever so curious to know."

A small grin crept across his face as Fal folded his arms, never breaking the eye contact for a second.

[Bishop]

As Falenor closed the distance between them, Bishop took half a second to wonder about what he needed from this fellow. When the answer hit his head, he stated it quite bluntly.

"Not much, really."

There was a genuine sense of satisfaction coming out of the Persian as he shook his head and shrugged. The guy was pretty happy with what he had, he simply didn't want to give out info for free. Now how to make Fal understand that without the creation of an abusive relationship.

"You're lucky there's a 'Bishop's a good guy' special going on right now." The tanned man said as he playfully pulled out his tongue. "Give me your email, I'll send what I got now, and the rest you'll receive..." Mir's gears got working for a second, "in two days."

Bishop pulled out his smartphone to get the transaction going, but before pressing a button, he looked onto Fal with a twisted smirk, letting a whiff of intimidation fly by, though not voluntarily.

Some habits are hard to kill.

"Just be grateful, and give me a hand when I need it. Though, considering who you'll be dealing with, I think you're the one who's going to need help."

He extended his right hand.

"So how 'bout it?"

[Falenor Xante]

That smirk, filled with dominance and strength. I know that smirk. Who the fuck are you Bishop?

Not a single movement on Fal's face would show the intention of his thoughts, his body still and calm while his mind raged. Something about this man was very wrong and somewhere between the twisted thoughts of Fal's mind lay a deep understanding. Trust was always an issue, given only to those who showed proof that they had transcended their plagued and rotten humanity. The Bishop before him showed no immediate signs of being anything other than someone out for themselves but there was more, just below the surface and Falenor was sure of it.

"It is rare for me to meet a man who's intentions I struggle to predict, Bishop. My contact details serve only as another line in your notebook I'm sure so let this be the first gesture of trust."

Reaching to his pockets, Falenor retrieved a scrap of paper and a small pen, scribbling his details down and taking one last glance at them before surrendering his privacy to the Bishop's desires. Fal placed the scrap of paper in his right hand and accepted the friendly gesture from the Bishop, allowing the paper to change ownership as he did it. Given how close the two were, Fal lowered his voice so that only he and the Persian would be able to hear their conversation.

"I don't know what you did but I cannot deny my feelings Bishop. You are like me, perhaps you are no longer human and while I cannot see what lies beneath, I can see your disguise. For that reason alone, I pledge my services to you should you require them."

Falenor released his grip of the Bishop's hand and took a step back, increasing the distance between them in an attempt to reduce the tension of the moment. An arrogant grin appeared for a moment and there was a flicker of pure emotion in green eyes, anger and suffering pouring out for just a second before they vanished away again.

"The future is just ahead of us Bishop. Your name shall not be mentioned, know only that you are now in business with the man who deals with dragons."

[Bishop]

TIME FOR A STUPID ANSWER!

"Oh I'm a dragon too!" Bishop said as he flashed the most innocent of smiles. "Chinese zodiac, 'namean?" If tension had a pressure valve, Bishop was its irresponsible controller. His complete disregard for drama and decorum was part of the reason why he had such an unsettling presence.

This is the guy who offered a cup of coffee to someone who was about to break his teeth with a metal coated fist. Indifference was his middle name. Nothing fazed him from his modus operandi. He would fool around as he wanted, and threats would only add fuel to his fire.

Bishop opened the bit of paper offered to him and read its contents. Two seconds later, he crumpled the bit and tossed it in the air.

Your secret is safe with me.

Only to catch it with his mouth.

"You're right Fal, I'm not who I was," Bishop began in the most casual of tones, "I've grown." The Persian's gaze belonged to man twice his age. "And you will too. In the meantime," the young man turned on his heels as he focused his attention on his mobile device, "don't harm my students any more. It's hard to get paid as a tutor when your clients are hospitalized, 'namean?"

The second he got out of Falenor's sight, the green eyed man's phone vibrated. Knowledge awaited within.

[Falenor Xante]

Such ignorance! Again, of all the people Falenor had met over the years, only the Bishop was capable of being able to fake ignorance like that. It really was a unique trait and in all honestly, Fal didn't actually mind playing along, it was rather amusing. Green eyes followed the paper up and then down again as it fell in to the Bishop's mouth. It was nice to know that his information was actually going to be on a limited supply rather than it being available to everyone which seemed to be the current trend of things.

The Persian spoke of growth and of moving on but this was not something Falenor could do. Life had carried him too far in one direction to turn around now, his deeds had been done and he could now continue on his path or choose death by his own hand. The latter option was inevitable, only a matter of time before Fal decided he had had enough but today was not that day.

"I'll try to avoid your students in future, I'm sure there are plenty of other people to get in my way." Fal said with a smirk on his face. "I gave up the choice to grow a long time ago, I am who I am Bishop."

His eyes had not been off the man for a second when Fal's phone vibrated in his pocket. That was rapid service and you had to credit a man for that. Here was everything he needed to make a start, it was still hard to believe that after all the time searching, the serpent was on Twitter under his real name. In all honesty, that really pissed Falenor off but venting his anger was no difficult task.

Fal turned and slowly began to walk the opposite direction to Bishop, formulating his plan of action. As he walked out, he'd grab a student's head and throw them full force in to the lockers nearby. The sounds of agony as bone cracked against metal washed away all of the anger and Falenor breathed a sigh of genuine relief as he walked towards the school exit.