Teresa
The sun had just began to rise when Ares had decided to follow through with his plan of snooping out more information on the angels. The curiosity between him and his new found friend, Dani, had led him deeper into the rabbit hole. Ares was willing to see how far it would go. 

Sliding down the railing of the stairs, Ares made his way down from the third floor and onto the main floor. He collected his favour points, and ran back up the stairs to the second floor. Ares had not slept, but was hyped up on adrenaline and enough caffeine to kill a horse. It didn't take long for him to scale the concrete facility, and make it to his destination.

He stood outside the mentioned dorm, Mattias' room apparently. Ares knew they had gone missing alongside Margo, but was clearly more willing to talk than the latter. In his hands were stolen drinks. An orange soda, and an energy drink. Both silver cans, cold to the touch. A peace offering. 

Ares didn't hesitate, not even for a moment. He raised his hand, and knocked with the back of his knuckles to avoid dropping the can. 

*Knock. Knock. Knock.*

Three solid sounds echoed through the dorm. The tanned boy awaited any sign that someone was alive on the other side of the door.
Elaine
The knocks jolted Mattias out of whatever hazy stupor they'd spent the first part of the day in, mind scrambling for some sense of order as they hovered near the door. "Who is it?" They asked quietly, phone still in hand, before remembering their conversation with Ares. Right. The chance that someone had read their private messages and made it to Matti's dorm in time to not only beat Ares, but impersonate him, was slim. Existent, yes, but slim. They dragged the deadbolt to "Unlocked" And pulled the door open just enough for Ares to enter. 

Matti's room was chaotic. Less so that it probably had been— there were traces of cleaning from a few days ago, stacks of papers half-organized, bed neatly made, trashcan full, but not yet overflowing. But chaotic nonetheless. Papers were tacked on almost every surface: grids taped to the closet door, sticky notes scattered across the desk, index cards pinned up on the walls. Pens rolled across surfaces, and Matti hopped over errant pencaps as they made their way to sit on the bed. Days old coffee— the instant, one-cup kind— sat abandoned on essentially any horizontal surface where it wouldn't immediately fall or get kicked over. The only thing that saved the scene from being a full conspiracy-board was the lack of red thread. 

Mattias themself was muttering, flipping pages between two notebooks. One a small, bright yellow, and the other a larger composition blue. If they hadn't let Ares in (and then immediately slammed and bolted the door afterwards), it might appear as if they'd forgotten about him.

"Right." They shut and latched the composition book, tying it closed with a complicated looking knot. "This is a business transaction and not a conversation, so I'm allowed to skip small talk, correct?" They came the closest they had yet come to looking Ares in the face (or looking at him at all), staring up from behind dark tinted glasses with narrowed, but unhostile eyes.
Teresa
Ares heard the lock click from the other side after a whisper he couldn't make out. The heavy door opened and as soon as Ares was inside, it was shut with a loud thud. *Spooky,* He jokingly muttered in his mind. 

He stepped inside and let his dark eyes scan the room. It was incredibly different from his own, but a part of him was enjoying whatever Mattias had going. The dimly lit furniture, covered haphazardly with papers and random sticky notes really gave Ares a one way ticket into understanding what kind of person they were. Each old cup of coffee reminded Ares of the unholy amount of empty energy drink cans he had in his room. Maybe they were more similar than he originally thought.

The multiple surfaces covered in papers, pictures and news articles was the main focus. There was no red thread, so it wasn't entirely predictable but it was still a sight to behold. Ares raised his brow in intrigue, he wondered what kind of connections they had made, and if they would tell him. He finally turned to look at Mattias.

They were muttering and tying a knot around a book, looking overall kind of crazed... Or tired. Ares couldn't tell the difference.

"I guess this kinda shit really can drive you insane." He muttered under his breath, before turning to look at Matti when they finally spoke. 

"Of course, feel free. I hate small talk." His tone was gravely and obviously sleep deprived, but it was still confident and smooth. An accent weaved its way through his words, but it was hard to make out. It suited Ares well.

As Mattias moved towards him, Ares returned the narrow gaze. He looked down at the other, without malicious intent but more so curiosity. The height difference between the two was shocking now they were standing in front of each other. After a few moments of silence, Ares extended the orange soda out towards Mattias with a troublesome smirk. 

"I brought a peace offering, Sherlock." The nickname almost made Ares snicker.
Elaine
Matti pulled the soda from Ares' hands and scrambled to open it, an action reminiscent of a racoon trying to open the latch on a trashcan. They took a quick sip before pushing it to join several paper cups clustered on the corner of their desk. Nodded their thanks. With a quiet sigh they sat on the edge of their bed and rolled the desk chair towards Ares. 

"This has to be a transaction," They started, voice unwavering. "I will give you information on my experiences with the Tower but you'll have to provide something in return. Information, a favor, I don't particularly care what. So long as it's useful." It'd been a while since they'd been blunt like this, and they admitted it was refreshing. Something about walking roads long walked before, or the repetition of putting on a particular mask. "What are you willing to offer?" 

Despite their seemingly iron resolution not to speak until an agreement had been reached, Mattias' fingers were already flickering over the yellow journal, brushing past pages and pages of dark ink to settle on a section marked along the top as "The Angels". They pulled the journal closed, but kept their finger bookmarking the split.
Teresa
Ares watched Matti with sharp eyes that followed them like a cruel examiner. He stared at the papers around the room, and then at the other. Making a feeble attempt to make sense of it all, before deciding he didn't care.

With a few quick steps, Ares followed Matti over and grabbed the chair with his free hand. He swung it around, and sat down with a single solid movement. A crack and a sizzle rang out as he opened his own drink, and took a sip.

"Right." Ares furrowed his brow in thought while he tapped his finger on his can. "I can do something for you, or I can give you information on people. Whichever you want." He didn't sound annoyed at this fact, if anything relieved. Ares absolutely despised having debts, so the sooner they were paid off the better. 

Matti was straight to the point and blunt to a fault, boring at times but overall more interesting than Ares had given them credit for. Overall though, Ares felt nothing. He was here for information on the angels for his own personal gain, relations and opinions were irrelevant.
Elaine
Matti tensed, clearly weighing the options in their mind. "A favor," They decided. "Sometime in the future. One reasonable request." With the matter of repayment settled, they crossed their legs and opened the yellow journal once more. "I'm not sure how much you already know about the Angels, but I'll start at the tower." 

"As you know, an Angel was, in some manner, able to get a phone with access to intranet. They posted an image of the tower in the general chat, before they were banned by moderators. Shortly after, I had the opportunity to have a conversation with that Angel, who instructed me to bring Margo to the location in the picture, alone. Naturally I had concerns, but the Angel did not intend to harm us. I informed Margo, and we left." They inhaled softly, gears in their mind churning to force the story into words. They hadn't even looked down at the journal once— it seemed to be more for reassurance than for reference. Anything Matti intended to say was already in their mind. 

"Once inside, Margo and I attempted to access the 13th floor. However, there was a. Complication. Angels from a lower floor stopped the elevator we were in, requesting that I stay and Margo go on. I thought it was a bad idea. Separating in unknown territory is almost always a mistake, at least in movies. But Margo... Urged me with physical force to stay behind, and I couldn't exactly do anything against her. I conversed with the Angels there— three of them, for some unknown amount of time. An hour, maybe? I gained very little useful information, only that the Eldest Angel is apparently able to distinguish between good and evil people, and that the Angels themselves are a vigilante group focused primarily on eliminating targets doing large scale damage who have not or will not be convicted through typical means. The Angels were not physically hostile to me during our conversation, and allowed me to return to the upper floor to look for Margo. By that time—"

.

They clenched their jaw an almost imperceptible amount, voice pausing for only the briefest of moments before they continued.

"By that time Margo had left, already. According to the accounts of various witnesses, which were verified to be true, she had attacked some of their number after a conversation with the leader. I believe that is most of the information that would interest you about what occurred inside the Tower. If you wanted to know more, I'd advice going to Margo." Matti shut their journal with a quiet clack, doing their best to broadcast finality and closure. There was more— of course there was more, but not telling someone *Every detail* About an event didn't constitute as lying. Omission had to be done with the intent to deceive, and Matti had not misconstrued. Everything they had said was correct, in technical terms and spirit. *You know what he meant, though*, a cruel voice whispered in the back of their mind. *Information means information. Everything means everything.*

They shook the voice off and took another sip of soda, silently hoping Ares wouldn't notice the oddness of their intentional wordings.
Teresa
Ares grumbled slightly at Mattias not specifying *What* Favour he would be required to complete, but he kept a mental note of this debt. He despised having debts, people always seemed to redeem such things at the most inconvenient times. The boy pushed his annoyance back with a sip from his drink, for now he had to listen. 

As Mattias mentioned the towers, and angels, and in and outs, Ares kept keen attention on every word. Having earned the nickname *'the human tape recorder'* Back home, Ares' ability to remember details was incredibly impressive. He didn't need paper or pen, his mind simply summarized everything and kept it stored away for when its best needed. 

A part of him wasn't certain *Why* He was doing this. Was it curiosity? Or was he interested in how much money Danica would pay him for his words. He wasn't sure, and frankly didn't care. The latter was appealing enough for him to be sitting here in the first place. 

Between speaking, Ares nodded intently. He was listening, alongside interested. 

The intranet Angel. He had a screenshot of the message, he knew the tower. Mattias had been *Inside.* If Danica and Ares were going to go through with their harebrained plan of investigating for themselves, this information would be incredibly useful.

"So... The Angels are looking to *Eliminate* People? What kind of people?" Ares questioned through a furrowed brow. "And they, didn't hurt you. I see." He said under his breath. 
_ _

This analytical demeanour did not suit Ares well. He leaned back against the chair, and tilted his head up to the ceiling with a frustrated sigh. Whatever information he was gaining *Had* To be for Danica, because the rush and buzz of his brain was getting on his nerves. In no way would he ever do this on his own accord. 

"Margo hates me. I doubt she'd tell me anything." He raised his head and gaze to look at Mattias. "I appreciate what you told me though, I'll find my way around Margo. I have connections, I guess you could call them." He tapped his finger on his can. 

"Do you know anything about their abilities? Like what the Angels are capable of?"
Elaine
Matti understood the desire for information. They understood the drive to seek what was unknown, to arm oneself with every weapon available. Knowledge was the wall they built, what made the weight of the world easier to bear. But as Ares' questions continued, they thought for perhaps the first time in their life not if they *Could* Share information, but if they *Should*. The Angels had been tolerant, if not kind. Though Mattias did not trust them fully, it didn't mean they were willing to throw a proverbial lion into their den. 



"They target corruption," They started half-hesitantly. "Not people like you or like me. Those with status and power, who use what they have to harm others. Usually, figures who are beyond the reach of the law. When I spoke to them, they told me about a company head who poisoned his workers and used his influence to avoid consequences."

Reluctance crept in them again, the reminder that the angel's Purpose was a half-step to the left of their own. 

"And no, they didn't hurt me. Even when I spoke in terms... To you they may classify as 'fighting words'."

Matti sighed. For a brief moment they imagined acid crawling from their stomach and burning their throat so they couldn't speak. 

"I wasn't told anything about strange powers the Angels have, nor did I directly observe any enhanced abilities of theirs." *Technically.* They quieted the rush of self-loathing. *Technically true. Technically not a lie.* They hadn't been told about strange powers. How could abilities be strange? Who was Matti to classify them as such? They hadn't witnessed enhanced abilities that the *Angels* Had. Just the leader, and the ability seemed to be wholly out of the realm of normality. Not enhanced. New. 

The words were sand on their tongue. Half-truths. They'd have to be enough.