retribution, motherf'er.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

Something sparkled in Neilen's eyes when Eve corrected him. She had delinquency in the blood, did she? That simply made things that much sweeter. "True," he conceded, "but you can always use sticky fingers to line your pockets." That was how he operated; aside from his mercenary work, he preferred to steal money when he could and when he couldn't, he'd steal goods and sell them quick, making sure to launder the money before using it to buy the things he wanted lawfully. It made it that much sweeter when the government tried to peg him for theft under his more affluent, visible, and non-wanted-criminal personages.

"That supposed to stop me?" Neilen replied with a laugh, clearly insinuating that a proposal from a girl like her would be far from a bad thing. Of course, what with the age difference he suspected there was and his decision that she couldn't possibly be single, he'd never actually want to get into any sort of relationship with her, and that's without even considering the fact that he would never marry anyone, but he figured a little harmless flirting couldn't hurt.

He took a moment to let the thought stew in Eve's head before explaining himself. "The catch is this; you're a fighter without a manager, and as such without cashflow, and I'm... I guess you could say, a manager without a fighter. Thing is, where I'll be rolling, the managers fight too, and there's no pay. Not officially anyway, but I'm not going to be kicking people out for betting." He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Eve, but didn't even bother lighting his when he put it in his mouth. Either he didn't want to stink the upholstery up, or he was too worked up about this 'deal' to bother with a lighter.

"So I'm wondering if you'd right help me out, and in place of a normal paycheck, I'll let you take the Shelby off my hands. I'm sure you'll love it though; might even do it without pay. It hasn't started yet, but it'll be a hell of a time. It'll be sort of like... have you seen Fight Club?"

His grin was dangerously devious.

[Eve Melona !]

While she never liked to think about it as such, Eve, in a sense, lined her pockets with blood money. She was being paid - and very well -to destroy, and more importantly, to humiliate, other people, and how little this bothered her was probably the only thing that really stung over time. Eve Melona was a sweet girl, with the best kind of heart - a big one. She was all about honor and loyalty and faith, and in the ring was the one place where she could say fuck all and step away from her ideals, where she could cut free and exercise everything that haunted her. Besides, if someone was stupid enough to sign up for a fight against 'Eve the Invincible', she figured that they knew what was coming.

"Not at all." Eve laughed, changing lanes without bothering to look over her shoulder. "It was actually supposed to encourage you." Harmless flirting indeed. The pretty Italian knew her boundaries, and she had no wish to overstep them, because honestly, no one had ever been as good to her as Kaylen was, but there was still always room for playful banter.

Now Neilen was talking, rather excitedly in fact, about his grand plans and Eve's role in them. And she listened carefully, diligently, her expression somewhere between amused and curious. Waving off the cigarette politely, the Italian merged effortlessly back into her original lane as they entered downtown.

Without Joe, ever knew she could still find work boxing. There was always someone looking to bet on a fight, even if it was in a back alley somewhere, but it just wasn't the same. Joe the Gangster, for all his faults, was connected, and Eve hadn't been enjoying the underground scene long enough that she could hedge her way in without him- not yet at least. And in truth, this realization weighed a lot on her answer. That, and the Shelby of course.

"One thing you'll probably learn about me, is that I can never turn down a fight." The Italian smiled, her expression a little to warm to be regarding the subject of violence. "Sweeten the deal with a Mustang and baby, I'm all yours." Save for Sailor Jerry's Spiced Rum, Neilen had more or less hit all of Eve's weak spots, and her answer had been obvious from the start.

"Yes, though I'm more partial to the book." Smirking with the same feline edge, Eve rolled down her window, stretching her arm outside the car before resting it against the outside of the door, her fingers lazily tapping against the vicious green paint job.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

"Encourage me? Well then, there's the Murciélago, the Beamers..." He ticked the two cars off as if he was about to spout a huge list of them, but the words trailed off with a grin and he dropped his hand. "How about we save that for another time, though," he suggested. Now was the time for business, if you could call it that. He was sure, if she accepted (and he was confident she would) that she would get a chance to see his fleet some other time.

His smile grew to epic proportions when she did indeed give him the go ahead. "You," he said, pointing a hand with a cigarette pinched precariously between two fingers at her, "are a pretty damn great little lady. I like you." He said this almost as if it was an immense honour being bestowed upon her. After resting the still unlit cigarette between his lips once more, he offered her his hand to seal the deal. It might not seem like a very solid contract, but if there was one thing Neilen - the thief, the mercenary, the thug, the killer - truly strove to uphold, it was the honour of the gentleman's agreement. If it was good enough for the mafioso, it should be good enough for anyone.

"And, you'll have to excuse me," he said, waving his other hand in a vaguely apologetic manner, "but I'm used to most of you kids not even knowing Fight Club is a book. I mention the movie first solely out of habit, I don't mean to insult your intelligence or anything. I should know by now you're no typical teenager."

[Eve Melona !]

They were closing in on The Cave now, and as Neilen spoke, Eve's all-or-nothing emerald eyes were flickering between the crowded downtown streets and the surrounding curbs, searching for a place to park their stolen green beast.

"Awh, thanks darlin'" At his compliment, Eve pressed a hand to her breast with a flattered smile, looking over at her new found friend with a sort of awe-inspired embarrassment before the expression quickly fell to pieces and she found herself shrugging as she looked back out the window distractedly, still searching for a parking spot.

"I do what I can." Finally, an opening caught her eye and Eve steered close to the curb, ignoring the mob of cars speeding past and the sidewalk packed with Missourians. "I figure that I like honest, smart, strong and real people, and it's only far if I practice what I preach." Guiding the monstrous green Porsche into a spot just behind a speedy looking Mercedes, Eve looked back at Neilen just as he offered her his hand. Grinning, she took it and gave his grip a gentle squeeze before shaking his hand; partners, or something like it.

His apology coaxed a nod from her, and a rather impish smile, but nothing more as she dropped his hand and quickly popped open the door and slid from her seat. Neilen would probably catch her toss her bomber jacket on the newly abandoned seat, and a flash of tan skin before she finally slammed the door shut and disappeared from view.

When Neilen finally exited the car, Eve would be leaning against the hood of the car, dressed in a green tank top with her combat boots crossed at the ankle and looking down at her fingernails with disinterest. The club was just at the end of the block, and even from where they were parked it was easy to see that there was a wild line, and all the people lingering around outside the door smoking made Eve want to lite up herself, a habit which she was desperately trying to kick for the sake of her work.

"Well come on, my handsome stranger," her smile, bright and honest as she directed it toward him in full bloom, was certainly something to be revered, "let's get to drinking!" The Italian tucked away a dark curl and offered out her hand as she pushed away from the curb so that she could rest it on Neilen's arm as they walked toward the packed club ahead if he so obliged.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

"You are very much welcome," he shot back, all the grace and pomp of a lord momentarily displayed before a grin swept it all away like so many dust bunnies before gale force winds. It felt kind of nice to be a little, dare he think it, silly, for once; normally being completely serious (and intimidating at that) was very important for even his survival.

"Yeah, nobody likes a hypocrite," he concurred, nodding as he shook her hand. "And who doesn't like an honest, smart, strong, real person?" There was, deep down, a twinge of something akin to guilt there, because he was, by nature, not 'real' in any sense of the word. He hadn't lived publicly in the body he was born with in many, many years.

Neilen slid out of his own seat with this on his mind, but by the time he made it to the street, he was all charming smiles. He wasn't exactly a prominent public figure, but he was sure to know at least a couple people in the area, and aside from that, it just never hurt to make a good impression.

Of course, it would be very difficult to not make a good impression with such a beautiful young lady on his arm.

"Let's," he said, meeting her smile with one of his own, but by the time he said this, he was staring at the line. There was no way he was waiting in it; he never did, but normally that would require him putting on a famous face, and he didn't think he wanted to go changing his appearance in front of this girl he'd just met, partners or not. It was a talent he liked to keep to himself, if he could help it.

Luckily, though, he didn't need any of that at the Cave. He strolled right up past the line to the doors with Eve at his side, and gave the bouncer his name. They got in without a hassle; one of the fringe benefits of knowing Raelena St. John as well as he did was that getting into her club was a joke, even at 'capacity'.

A few people in the crowded line seemed confused that someone they didn't immediately recognize as a celebrity was getting in so easily, but Neilen pretty much ignored that as he gestured for Eve to go on slightly ahead of him.

"Shall we?"

[Eve Melona !]

Eve fell into step beside Neilen as they headed for the club, bypassing the line with little passing for a second thought as the mysterious man offered up his name as both compensation and key. As the door opened and the heat of the club fell upon her in waves, Eve didn't even think to question how Neilen had been able to shirk the usually required drudgery that was standing in line. Perhaps it was because she didn't quite take to kicking gift horses, or because she had just accepted that there was something special about Neilen, something special and perhaps dark enough that it wasn't worth prying into.

Hence, "We shall," Eve's engaging smile was a sharp contrast against the murky backdrop of The Cave, complimenting her words with a decidedly organic and honest touch. Stepping in front of her brand new buisness associate, the Italian ducked inside the notorious club, immediately glad she had left her coat in the car. It was a getting late, darkness keeping a sharp tail on Eve and Neilen's adventure, and a Friday, which meant that the building was crowded, loud and muggy.

In truth, she didn't mind the conditions all that much, it was a nightclub after all, an establishment that was generally crowded, loud and muggy just on principle. Still, as they wove through the crowd and toward the bar, which thankfully, seemed a little cooler, Eve couldn't help but wonder if Neilen's important person status extended to the VIP lounge, a section of the club that looked to be playing it awful heavy on the air conditioning and light on the sweaty club rats.

"Well I suppose that question now is, what are you drinking?" They had made it to the bar, and with a curious look, Eve wondered as to what Neilen's poison might be. In all assumption, she figured the man to be well-versed in the vein of liquor, and further more, she suspected that tonight's madness had only more or less begun.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

It was a part of Neilen's line of work to pay really good attention to his surroundings. Very little escaped him, from the infinitesimally small movements of a single person's body language to the rumblings of dissent in a vast crowd. He could tell a natural smile from a forced one, and a crocodile tear from the real thing. He knew when someone was fidgeting because they were wired and when they were fidgeting because they had a gun and were itchy to use it. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that he could tell Eve was considering the VIP lounge, an observation that brought a hint of a grin to his face. He liked that the girl was, either consciously or not, always looking up. Ambition could be a dangerous thing, but without it no one would get anywhere.

"JD's, I guess. I prefer Midleton Very Rare when I can get my hands on it, but I wouldn't expect a nightclub to carry it." He was a man well-versed in the vein of liquor indeed, but whiskey was his specialty. Rye, Tennessee, Irish, Canadian, Bourbon, Scotch... You name it, the man had tried the most expensive bottle of it he could get his hands on. He had a weakness for Irish Whiskey himself, probably due to being of Irish blood, but he liked anything of high quality, and would drink even substandard whiskey if he really had to.

He ordered a couple shots of JD, downed one, signalled to the bartender to get the lady whatever she wanted, and turned around to survey the club. Dancing wasn't really his thing (though he did partake once in awhile), so the main appeal of clubs went right over his head. Add to that the fact that being in a crowded area put him on edge, and heat was less than his favourite thing, and he was ready to make the move to the VIP lounge any minute. He looked back to see if Eve was done at the bar yet, downing his second shot in the process.

"You feel like crashing the VIP area?" he enquired, though it wouldn't really be crashing by definition, since he was on the list. He did not, by any means, want to rush her away from the alcohol, being such a fan of it himself, but he was itching to go and refused to ask her to meet him there. She may have been able to handle herself, but it was just plain rude to ask a lady to traverse a crowd full of people by herself.

[Eve Melona !]

Eve smiled once again as Neilen answered, waving his hand about to order them something to drink - her father drank Midleton. Midleton and Mezzaluna with a thick cigar and Uncle Chili for company was her father's favorite way to wind down his day, and Eve was infinitely glad that - given the person her father had become when her mother had walked out - that he, and his drinking habit, had managed to calm down over the years. But unlike the senior Melona, Eve was still young and wild and very, very comfortable with her own heavy drinking habits.

"I'm a Rum girl myself," she replied with her usual impish grin as she ordered herself a pair of Sailor Jerry shots to better make her point. Eve, being the daughter of an alcoholic and of Italy, knew her booze and loved it all the same. She had a penchant for chaos and mischief and good times, and situations always seemed much easier to take advantage of under the influence of alcohol. Throwing back the first shot, Eve exhaled sharply, prepared, but still always caught by surprise at the spice that her drink packed - liquid fire at it's best.

Rum had been a good choice, she decided quietly, picking up the second glass as Neilen coyly inquired about the VIP lounge. Vodka would turn her into a fumbling, giggling mess, Whiskey would have disposed her into a fist fight before the hour was up, and Gin would end the night with her wrapped around a loo.

"You read my mind." Her smile disappeared behind the second shot as she emptied it and ordered a beer to even herself out. Looking back to her new partner in crime, the Italian's mischievous grin soon returned as she gestured for him to lead the way.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

The rum statement garnered an impressed sort of quirk of the lips from Neilen. "A rum girl? Well, I guess I should know you better by now than to catch you sipping on something girly, huh?" He chuckled to himself as he watched her down the first of her twins shots, impressed whether he let it on or not, and waited for her to grab the second for the road.

"Something like that," he said when she accused him of reading her mind, and he raised an eyebrow as she instead downed the other shot and requested a beer of the bartender. He figured the girl could handle herself, but he hoped she wouldn't overdo it; he didn't want to have to carry her around or anything. She may not weigh much, but navigating a crowd with her over his shoulder could prove interesting.

For the time being, however... navigating the crowd proved to be incredibly easy. He was never sure whether it was something he personally oozed, or the lycan vibe, but the crowd parted in front of him like a noisy Red Sea, allowing just enough space behind him for Eve to follow before the gap closed once more. He glanced backward every once in awhile to make sure his partner was following, but it wasn't long before they'd reached the stairs to the VIP area.

Here, he simply smiled at the employee guarding the place like it was Fort Knox, gestured to Eve, and began climbing the steps, stopping only to offer Eve his arm to help her on her way up.

Sorry, Hurgs, that's the best I seem to be able to come up with tonight @_@

[Eve Melona !]

Eve laughed, a small noise of joy. "Damn straight. Girly drinks are for girly girls." And while this Italian might have been many things, girly was not one of them. She could be docile or cute or feminine even, but the aforementioned term implied a sort of weakness, or one-dimensional personality, and that was just a sort of box that Eve would never fit in to.

The bartender finally slid the girl a beer, and after a quick drink to wash away the worst of the rum, she was ready for the journey to the VIP area. Sticking close to Neilen's heels, Eve couldn't help but be impressed at the way a path was provided for him, wordlessly. She quietly suspected that he was also the sort of man who could ride in a convertible with the top down, and not mess up a single hair.

The reached the VIP balcony and while Eve could climb the stairs perfectly well herself, it was good manners to take a gentleman's hand when he offers one, and so she took his outstretched arm and looked ahead with a slightly feline smirk just below the surface.

"So, boss," she began, gesturing backward to the walking clipboard and how they had been let loose in the very important persons only section without so much as a second glance, "friends in high places?" Her eyebrows were raised, but the words came off more as a comment, a side joke, than a real question. People's business, as far as Eve was concerned, was their own.