<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/08/dc/b6/08dcb66af76f79ed5eb8a99d80d99931.jpg)</div><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center"><strong>Date / Time:</strong> Monday 26th, Early Afternoon</div><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Name:</strong><strong>Dimitrius Maranzano</strong>(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=334101.msg15907266#msg15907266)<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>As Pictured, minus Goggles.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Night Daze<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Lady Anna<br/><strong>Warnings:</strong>None<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Ah, yes...Neia. A small smile crept across his face unbidden at the mention of her name. The beautiful little Butterfree was quite the star attraction at The Night Daze, and he had to admit that he had a very strong fondness for the girl. Whilst she was almost half his age - closer to his age, not further, thank Arceus - she had a kind of youthful vigor that he found appealing. She was genuine, sweet, sincere, charming and captivatingly energetic about anything that took her fancy, and the two of them had struck up a connection after he had helped lift her up from a bad situation. Though of course, as he always insisted, he did nothing more than offer her a hand; she worked her own way up from the bottom. She picked herself up, she pushed<em>herself</em>out of the doldrums she'd found herself in and she'd found the strength within<em>herself</em>to stand on her own two feet. Yes, he was powerful and wealthy and having a patron of that sort was not something that you could discount...but any degree of self improvement came with an accompanying struggle, and she had fought her way through that struggle herself. He had simply given her the support. The fight had come from within her.<br/><br/>She had forged herself a rather star-studded reputation even amongst the beauties and talents of The Night Daze - no mean feat, he would say right now - and managed to get herself top billing. And of course, Dimitrius was there every day to see it. No matter what she was performing or when, it was a rare evening that he wouldn't come to take in one of her shows and at least drop in for a kiss and some flowers afterwards. He was well aware that he was still technically a client, but he liked to believe that Neia was excited to see him not because of his wallet, but because they had a real, genuine connection. After all, Neia insisted that he never paid a dime for her time, and even if he tried to pay her directly, she would rebuff him rather sternly and maybe even throw a tantrum over it. That wasn't to say the time was free - he paid Anna behind the scenes to compensate her for the lost time and facilities, of course; you should never expect free things simply because of your reputation, that was an easy way to spend it quickly and frivolously - but the simple fact that Neia would get upset if she ever found out that he'd been charged for time with her? Well...call him a sentimental old man, but he hoped that meant something more than just Anna and Naia taking gullible old him for a complex and unnecessary ride!<br/><br/>Dimitrius shook his head and took another slow sip of his tea, the smile flickering away after a long moment. The posters outside indicated that Neia's next performance was tonight - which was another reason he was there - but he still had business to deal with first. Though, it was clear that Anna was not quite so above it all and not quite so resistant to casual flirting as they did their scheming. He inclined his head to one side.<strong>"You are correct as always, my dear,"</strong>he mused softly.<strong>"Pouring endless cups of tea would be a waste of your talents. But a gentleman never broaches such topics in polite company, or over such delectable finger-food."</strong>His eyes twinkled a little as he reached forwards to take a small pastry, of course taking his own small cutlery out to dine on it delicately and sparingly. He wasn't particularly hungry, but it would be rude not to at least sample her hospitality after she went to such effort! And whilst he knew Fae wouldn't much care, he cared about her enough to not want to disrespect her anyway. His eyes took in her heaving form in that tight dress, clearly worn to draw attention and desire.<br/><br/>He knew the games she played, so he was very rarely caught off guard by them...but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the sport as a spectator, now did it? And she looked<em>very</em>good her uniform.<strong>"Though they are hardly the most delectable things on display as of this moment,"</strong>he finished with a sly wink. Yes yes, it was stroking her ego a little, and she likely wouldn't take his words at face value. But being obvious flattery didn't make it any less<em>true,</em>now did it? But there was business to discuss, and he listened carefully as she spoke. He didn't interrupt or interject; a wise man knew when to hold his tongue and listen, and how to contemplate before speaking. Silence spoke volumes, but careless words often said volumes<em>more,</em>and when somebody was giving such insightful intelligence, well, it was wrong to cut them off at the source. You never stemmed the tide. You simply paid attention enough to pick out the important details. Clearly her spies had been rooting around her competitors for some time - as had his, though for different reasons - and her suggestion was a good one...but too small-minded in its approach.<br/><br/>No. No, that wasn't fair, it wasn't too small-minded...it was too...cautious. Hesitant. Passive aggressive, you might say, which made sense for her position as somebody far smaller and more vulnerable than him, but the point remained that she wasn't thinking dramatic enough. This kind of opportunity only came along once in a blue moon, and whilst he had been thinking of getting his fingers into this particular pie...he had been considering along a different line. He paused, considering her idea...whilst it was not one he thought was wise, elements of it coalesced into a notion that combined with one of his own earlier musings, giving birth to something truly devious. This was why he and Anna worked so well together; even if their initial ideas were not workable for whatever reason, they usually inspired the other to think even deeper and further afield. Hoenstly, if ever they wanted to nominate an heir to take over when they were gone, well...he'd leave that thought right there. Cassie was his successor, but it never hurt to have an aide or assistant to the next Kingpin. Anyway. Back to business. He took another long, slow sip of his tea...then shook his head.<br/><br/><strong>"A good idea, Anna,"</strong>he said quietly, his tone dropping,<strong>"But a touch too narrow in its scope. Many of the businesses we would probably care to target are too entrenched in their customer base. Brand loyalty and personal familiarity is difficult to overcome. They would survive, and the only casualties would be enterprises so small that they wouldn't be worth the effort to crush in the first place."</strong>He set his tea down on the table, taking another small bite of the pastry.<strong>"Furthermore, our involvement would be obvious. All it would take is one counter-bribe, and they would learn that the plans were accelerated by a day for no apparent reason. From there, it isn't much of a leap to make the connection that we had something to do with it...at which point, we have directly provoked these less desirable businesses and organisations with an opening salvo that did little more than ruffle their feathers. If we are going to strike, we need to do so as viciously and crushingly as possible to eliminate any chance of a counter-attack."</strong>The problem was, such a move would only eliminate the weaker ones...and leave the stronger ones to gather up their lost business after the temporary blip in delays. The blockades would not last long enough to starve those larger enterprises into submission, which meant it was not a wise move at all. No. No, they needed something<em>bigger.</em><br/><br/><strong>"I have a counter hypothetical for you, if I may?"</strong>He lifted an amused eyebrow before continuing.<strong>"My friends have told me that many of these undesirables are beginning to become...friendly with each other. They are beginning to turn against more common rivals."</strong>He stirred his tea thoughtfully, leaning forwards and dropping his voice. He wasn't worried about it - they were not nearly strong enough to challenge him, and he could have the leaders assassinated in a heartbeat if he had to - but any challenge to his authority had to be taken as seriously as possible. It was always the one you ignored that would end up slitting your throat.<strong>"But considering their reputations, trust is hard to come by, and harder to maintain. It's so very fragile that the simplest act of recklessness can shatter it beyond repair...and in every organisation, you'll find a middle man with more ambition than sense, people who are hungry to the point of recklessness...and people just powerful enough that they can't be disavowed convincingly."</strong>He lifted a knowing eyebrow, a small smirk crossing his face.<strong>"Perhaps one or two of these middle-men hear about the blockade through their <em>trusted sources,</em> and move their product early, eager to prove their initiative. They act first...and think far too late."</strong>He chuckled softly, glancing out over the soon to be filled dining and viewing area, looking up at the stage.<br/><br/>It was odd, how much of what he did was a performance. It was a good thing that he was such a good actor.<strong>"And in their haste, why, they miss somebody watching. Perhaps that concerned citizen reports to the Guard. Suddenly, the businesses are out of pocket...and when the blockades go up and certain letters are found, that tenuous trust is shattered. People begin to wonder who wasn't so honest about their sources, who received something more personal than a letter...and why their new friends didn't warn them about the blockade. The new friendships are shattered, disagreements break out...perhaps they escalate, the wrong property is damaged and a quiet word from concerned, wealthier citizens to overzealous Guards ends with the businesses shuttered and the heads rolling in a jail cell...until they realise the hopelessness of their situation, and prefer dangling bedsheets to trial."</strong>A knowing look entered his eye; he was being circumspect for a reason, after all, he had no idea who was listening or taking notes, and he always needed to be able to maintain plausible deniability. Besides, he kind of liked couching his plans in such a way. It meant he didn't give away too much, or moving parts that she didn't need to know about...and he liked the ever so slight crinkle she got in her nose when she was thinking about what he was saying. It was cute.<br/><br/>Of course, she would know what he was implying; the assassination of an ascending gang leader or business-owner? A tragedy that leaves a power vacuum. The "suicide" in custody of a disgraced former-mogul-now-criminal as he stands in the ruins of his shady enterprise? A tragic end to a tragic tale...and one that sends a warning to would-be copycats. And all of it, without so much as a whisper of their personal involvement. Oh, people would speculate...but the point was to leave it vague. Always keep your strength uncertain, so your enemies moved more carefully. When you did things right, people wouldn't be certain you'd do anything at all...and so would ascribe other things to you as well, even if you had no idea they had happened in the first place. Reputation was a funny thing, after all; Other people always determined what yours was. And if you could make them<em>believe</em>you cast a shadow over the entire city, even if you didn't...then you soon would. Reputation and power were 50% perception. And he was very good at making people see what he wanted them to see.