[CLOSED: Champagne, Cocaine, Gasoline

[strikesthrough]

WHO: Victor Vale strikesthrough & Kaz Brekker roughworkdone
WHERE: A bar in Nonah
WHEN: After the world is saved! 🙌
WHAT: Drinking fun times for Victor, drinking less-than-fun times for Kaz.
WARNINGS: Alcohol and probably discussion of dark themes, knowing them--will update as necessary



Heroes.

Conceptually, the place has been teaming with heroes since long before Victor arrived, but the celebrations from avoiding the end of worlds puts all of this into much sharper relief for Victor and he doesn't much care for it. He wonders, idly, what Eli thinks of all this,

Evidently, what Kaz thinks is this is all rather nauseating, so Victor does what any decent enabler would do: agree to take him drinking and provide a real reason for the world to spin.

In fact, whenever Kaz arrives at the exposed-brick and dimly lit bar Victor has found for them in Nonah, there is already a drink waiting for him, while Victor is about a finger out of two down in his own already. Truth be told, he prefers the vibe of Maurtia Falls and the way people avert their eyes and unsee many things, but this is a place that neither he nor Kaz would likely be seen at normally--all quirky decor in a style Victor would probably consider 'hipster' in his own world, but he's not sure that has entirely caught on here yet.

He doesn't flag Kaz down as he catches sight of him, instead just watching him with a sharp stare and all the expectation that he'll find his way over. Victor's eyes also drift just beyond him, lingering a look on the door as if half-expecting another figure to follow in after.

"You sounded desperate," Victor comments as he leans back into the worn leather of the booth once Kaz is in earshot and clearly alone, "So I went ahead and ordered you a double."

Comments

[roughworkdone]

Kaz is in fine form as he prowls into the bar. He doesn't look any worse for the wear beyond the storm cloud rolling in with him. A quick scan of the place finds him Victor. Kaz is happy to get off his feet and doesn't seem inclined to complain about the choice of venue, especially since there is a drink waiting for him.

"I was," he admits. He nearly knocks back the entire double. "You're too kind," he says as he sets the glass down, supposing he could take time to actually taste it now that he's away from crowds and noise and hero-worship.

He sighs and leans back against the leather, comforted by the familiar creak even if he's never set foot in this particular bar.

"So. The world didn't end."

[strikesthrough]

Kaz is the second person to facetiously call Victor kind in recent days and the comment earns an amused snort into his glass, though he quiets as he watches his company basically down his drink in one. It really must be some kind of fucking day.

"The world didn't end," Victor echoes lightly, not even bothering to lift for a toast since Kaz has clearly taken them well beyond that already. The tab was open though and the refills would find their way to the table--Victor made sure there would be few interruptions.

"And it sounds like you helped save the day. Should I be asking for an autograph?"

[roughworkdone]

"Only if you plan to sell it and then split the profits."

Kaz tries to unwind some of the tension he's been carrying for--a week? He's still a bit fuzzy on how time passed in the storm. But according to everyone at the vigil, it's been at least a week.

"Didn't even have to kill the little girls, imagine that."

[strikesthrough]

"You do have your own means of mass-production right there, but sure."

It's an odd feeling, getting to lightly tease someone like this, but Victor has spent so many years with a young woman in her late teens stuck as a thirteen-year-old, a hacker, a solider, and a dog.

As far as the adorable kids are concerned, Victor sort of shakes his head. It's not that he's especially enamored by the idea of child death, it's just he didn't care either way.

"Imagine," he says with a slight upward tip of his headshake.

"But if they had died, so what?" He shrugs, not even looking around to see if anyone overheard or finds his comments distasteful, "They'd do their job and then get 'mourned'--" and the air quotes are definitely there with his free hand, "--memorial isn't about the lost, it's about the people that remain so they don't have to feel guilty about going forward with their own lives."

[roughworkdone]

"Less face to face time with the adoring public. Avoiding that is worth splitting the profit."

Kaz finishes his drink and looks at the glass as he sets it down. He turns it slowly, matching the pace of the gears in his mind. He thinks of things he heard while in the storm. People giving up things to save random locals. Other people experiencing horrific flashbacks. That was enough for Kaz. He needs a long bath and a lot more alcohol.

This is a start.

"The person that owes me money for procuring them better still be alive." The last time he saw Kavinsky he was in one piece, but Kaz doesn't know how long ago that really was. He's going to add hazard pay to the arrangement. That will do something to smooth his thoroughly ruffled feathers.

Would he feel more at peace about Jordie if he'd managed a memorial of some kind for him? Something better than watching his bloated body drift back out to sea? The revulsion creeps up his throat and Kaz swallows it down. He adjusts his gloves and rolls his shoulders, trying to take some comfort in the feeling of layers between his skin and the world.

Maybe it would have been better for the girls if they died.

[strikesthrough]

As Kaz drinks, and talks, Victor listens. He listens to both the words and the pauses, the things Kaz says with his voice and the things he says without speaking.

And what he hears, is that there's actually a lot of drinking for them still to do and a lot that is still not being said.

In fact, he pauses mid-sip, staring at Kaz for a long second as he processes what he's saying.

"You got them? The kids for the ritual?"

Victor breathes out a slow breath from a slightly puffed out cheek before downing the rest of his own glass.

"What was in it for you? Beyond the money, I mean. Unless it was really good money."

[roughworkdone]

"I did," he confirms, because it doesn't matter who knows now, does it? A whole mess of heroes saw them bring the girls to the ritual site. But he doesn't rat out Kavinsky; he may rethink that position if he doesn't pay.

"Someone hired me for my expertise."

They aren't the first children he's made off with, though generally the rest have not been potential pawns in rituals or sacrifices. On top of that, Kaz has a history of taking jobs that other people won't. It's how he made his reputation in Ketterdam and apparently it's how he plans to start building one here. Kaz lifts a sharp brow, cut through with a thin scar, when Victor suggests he might have any other motive.

"Really good money."

[strikesthrough]

Money has never been a motivating force in Victor's life. Money is means to an end, numbers shifted between bank accounts. For some people, it's everything, motivation enough. Kaz, evidently, is one of those people. It makes Victor shake his head a little, but everyone is fueled by something.

"Then I hope they're still alive. For your sake."

Refills arrive pretty smoothly, and Victor already has the sense that if they are going at this pace it'll be a short trip to a long night.

"Does the gig potentially lead you to more really good money? Not that I expect there to be more rituals in the immediate future, but someone with money to pay for a job like that must have an eye to why they're paying you for you for it. Or did they just want to see the end of days? In which case, money is sort of pointless in the long run."

[roughworkdone]

Money is still a means to an end; Kaz knows how much it can help when making plans. Poor and ambitious is admirable, but staying poor only gets one so far. Kaz does not intend to be at loose ends for long; the bird sanctuary is all well and good, but he does not intend to retire to a life of prayer and industry just yet.

This job was a start.

He plucks up his refill and leans on the table.

"Potentially. It starts establishing reputation. The party interested in having the girls at the ritual wanted to make sure that the world didn't end because a bunch of idiots were unwilling to play by the prophetic rules. The job was to get the girls and deliver them to the ritual site. Just in case."

[strikesthrough]

"Your reputation as what?"

For Victor, reputation was something he wanted to keep relatively singular. Being on the run meant he wanted to keep it minimal--no trace and no tracks, nothing to announce him, nothing to precede him except in very specific circumstances.

Maybe that was different when he was younger, when he was Kaz's age, somewhere in his late teens to early twenties, but not after everything that's happened.

"So the opposite--they didn't want to die and wanted to give you a bunch of money to make sure the incentive was shared. Fine."

Victor leans across the table.

"What reputation are you trying to build here? Are you trying to recreate what it was in Ketterdam, or are you aiming for what you weren't yet able to create?"

[roughworkdone]

Kaz's existence in Ketterdam straddled a fine line between infamy and obscurity. He's known by the authorities and in the Barrel, but since the age of fourteen, he's gone untouched by the law. No one can attach him to anything, but the people that matter know how to identify his work. Aliases, alibis, and proxies.

And in the Barrel, everyone knew that Kaz Brekker did jobs no one else would touch.

"Yes," he answers as he stares down his drink. He lifts his gaze, eyes nearly black in the unobtrusive lighting. "I'm getting my feet back under me, Victor, in the way that I know how. Different world and different circumstances, but some things are apparently universal and I'm content to leverage that in my favor."

Content is not a word that applies to him but it serves for now. He hears Inej asking him what will be enough. The utter lack of one of the driving forces in his life here isn't a pitfall, just a small obstacle. Someday he'll go back to Ketterdam and he would hate to have grown soft in the meantime.

[strikesthrough]

"I'm not judging your methods or means," Victor clarifies as he presses the back of his head against the seat.

He tips his glass back and forth a few times, quiet, thoughtful. It's a strange place Victor finds himself in, between projects, between extreme feelings, feeling out where he wants to push himself into over time. He feels like he's been cut out of a body of work he'd been in before, perhaps like a cancer, and set aside. It's probably better for those he's left behind. For Mitch and Sydney. They can move forward; Victor can go somewhere else.

"You seem to have a good sense of direction, keen awareness of your needs and wants, a sense of goals."

Victor leans forward slowly, the faint orange light flooding his pale eyes.

"But what is it that you want, Brekker? Money only does so much to have. What do you want it for? What kind of empire are you building? Where are you picturing your throne, on high in the light, or below in the shadows? Now that the world isn't ending, what kind of world are you looking to build?"

[roughworkdone]

He's heard that question a dozen times before with different emphasis and different tones. Kaz pushes his gloved fingers through his hair. The memory of Jordie's death is fresh in his head (as if he could ever forget) after the storm. Kaz wants Pekka Rollins to speak his brother's name. He wants to dismantle his entire empire and he was on his way to seeing it done when he was pulled here, ripped from his brilliant momentum.

"I don't belong in the light, Vale," he says with a breathy laugh. Kaz sits back and brings his drink with him. The restless energy of determined survival that's kept his going for the past week feels like it's finally taking a toll. How long has it been since he's eaten, even? Doesn't matter. Alcohol is filling the empty space in him.

What does he want?

"In Ketterdam I bought and rebuilt Fifth Harbor and the Slat. I made the Crow Club profitable and competitive with every other gambling hall on the Stave." He had designs past that. Kaz's jaw ticks. "I want to tip every old boss off their thrones. Rip down the old order and build something new."

The Barrel bosses are left over from a different age, a time when rules mattered and there were platitudes about civility in the underworld. Kaz wants nothing to do with it. He'd started cultivating a new breed, filling the Dregs people he brought on, people that would be loyal to him if and when he ever moved higher.

Maybe the Maurtia Falls establishment needs similar shaking up.

Kaz rubs the bridge of his nose and finishes whatever's in his glass.