Delivery #2 (Lessien)

[Adrian Taylor]

~After the first delivery was dropped off, the old homeless man had a second destination to get to.

The second suite he had to find belonged to one Lessien Melwasul, another name that he had no clue who it belonged to. However, he had to make both deliveries to both women in order to get his money. This meant that after dropping the first envelope off at Lilith Creighton's suite, he had to find Lessien's.

The old man continued walking down the hallways of the SCW Towers. Finding his way to a different floor of the building before finally reaching the next destination that he had to go to.

He retrieved the second envelope from inside of his ragged trench coat pocket and knocked on the door in front of him. Then the old man awaited again for an answer from someone inside.~

[Lessien Melwasul]

~The answer came from behind him instead, as Lessien pressed the hollow mouth of her Glock against his neck.~

"I don't know you, Lover."

~There was no click. There was no motion. The safety was already off before it left her pocket. If there was a question in her mind, it did not make it to her face.~

"Old."

~Betty agreed completely.~

"Hm, the only things an old man like you might bring is bad news, bad memories or news of your own

fucking

death."

~That Cheshire grin appeared again.~

"I'm putting my money on door number three."

~The Glock slid around to the base of his skull.~

"And you?"

[Adrian Taylor]

"Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit--Please don't shoot!"

~If he had anything in his system right now, he probably would have evacuated his bowels all over himself. What has he gotten himself into? Who the heck were these women? First, the delivery to Lilith Creighton was a scary experience in itself, even if he did get the pleasure of seeing her... undergarments. But now? Now, he was being held up by gunpoint for knocking on Lessien Melwasul's door. It was not a good day to be him. No sir. Not a good day at all. The old man quickly threw his hands up into the air, trying to show he was not armed. All he had in his hand was an envelope. He simply waved the envelope in his hand and said...~

"I'm only here to drop off a package to one Ms. Lessien Melwasul! That's it! Please don't shoot!"

~The old man closed his eyes tightly and began to silently pray in his thought that he doesn't become a stain on the door in front of him. He should have just walked away when Adrian Taylor told him he had a job for him. He should have just walked away and went hungry. He would be back in his nice, cozy little alleyway and wouldn't have a gun pressed to his noggin. He wouldn't have gotten involved in all this insanity. He would have been safe. It was too late now. All that he could do was anything that would prevent harm coming his way. He was just the messenger, after all~

"Pleasedontshootpleasedontshootpleasedontshoot."

[Lessien Melwasul]

~An exasperated sigh parted her lips as she snatched the trembling envelope from his decrepit hand.~

"Five."

~The countdown began without ceremony. A steady and even count, it was more than fair.~

"Four."

~He was lucky this wasn't the rooftop. She would have started at one. But there were too many eyes and ears inside. She wasn't impervious to reality after all.~

"Run away."

~Alice had hardly advised before the old man was little more than a fleeting and hysterical memory turning a corner. The gun of Lessien lowered from the now empty space, and instead she lifted the envelope to her temple and tapped. A final payment from Gaiden or that dysfunctional Bloodworks gang? New instructions? New lawsuits? Empty threats from her 'superiors'? She stuffed the envelope in her pocket and turned away from the tower door, she would take this back to her real 'home' ... private and secure.~