Rowan Archeman had discovered that being independently wealthy could be extremely dull. Well, it was for him anyway, considering he wasn't doing anything with his days. Most of the more recent ones had been spent sleeping for lack of anything better to do. He'd considered going to school, briefly, but then he remembered those crowded crowded classrooms, and their fondness for open windows, and had quickly realized that it was a horrible idea.

So he had been sleeping. And using the internet, but as he found people on it even more idiotic than people on the street, he didn't spend too much time in front of his computer screen.

He'd spent enough though, to discover Bytorn. Bytorn who seemed so similar to him, a 20 year old heir to millions, who also happened to live in Bayville. Rowan's curiosity had been struck, and ideas had began to form, and finally he had had to call up one of his late father's research people to find out exactly where this Dorian Bytorn lived. They'd come through surprisingly well, as Rowan now stood at the man's front door.

He rung the doorbell somewhat impatiently, putting out a cigarette butt with the heel of his foot and lighting another one right away. Bytorn had an immaculate, and particularly loud lawn. Rowan couldn't wait to get inside, away from the idiotic little voices. He rung the doorbell again, and waited, giving the lawn an angry glare.

Getting into the elevator before Morgan had the chance, he quickly pressed for the fourteenth floor. Women, they're all the same. No respect! I will know all, Miss Thomaston! And Miss Marazzi, your training will begin soon. OBEDIENCE TRAINING!!!! BLASTED MIGRAINES! He thought as he pondered her last tantrum. Though he found it amusing that she was under the assumption that he would be the one to throw a tantrum. This probably angered her so much.

He arrived just at the small hallway to his place, to get a signal inside his place. Quickly unlocking his doors, he saw on the screens that a visitor had come. Not paying too much attention to the person, he nonetheless had pressed a few buttons for the man to enter. This better be important.

The great doors would slide open for the new visitor. As he exited the only elevator, it would be available to the visitor. He figured Morgan and Elisa would yell at each other a bit more. So no worries there, at most the three would be in the elevator.

Now back at his place he poured a rather great scotch for himself and took his seat in his "throne". This is so much better, just stay calm, Dorian.

A disembodied female voice started sprouting a message through the hall for the visitor. A rather monotonous voice, but it had worked in the past. The standard automatic message was even faintly echoing now.

"Mr. Bytorn will see you at his residence. You may proceed towards the only available elevator. The biometric palm print scanner of the elevator has been deactivated for your convenience. On arrival at the fourteenth floor, please proceed through the hallway towards his residence. If you do not wish to comply with these terms, please leave now or force will be taken. Enjoy your visit, sir and/or madam."

Morgan grinned as she heard this. She had wondered how to get to Dorian now it seemed this new visitor had given her a wonderful opportunity to do this. No scanning needed. So she headed towards the elevator and waited for the new arrival to come. Well if she used it before him then it may make Dorian pay more attention. So one trip up was all that was needed.

She sighed, this person was taking their time. She needed a cigarette. It'd be funny if this place had really sensitive smoke detectors. She could light up. Maybe in the elevator. That'd annoy the arrogant man upstairs. You wouldn't be able to get the smoke smell out for ages. So she took out her cigarette packet and removed her last cig. She sighed, she'd need some more of them. She'd also need to go out and get a fix. She played with her lighter as she waited. Flicking the top of the silver gas filled toy. The flame was fun. Fire was fun. This place, wasn't. She sighed again. How long does it take?!

Rowan stepped into the building, and raised an eyebrow at computerized voice. This was pretty snazzy, he had to admit. His home in Connecticut had been different. Older... it spoke of old money, of class, of American aristocracy. This building, and arrangement with the voice and the elevator, was much more industrialized. He shrugged it off, and walked towards the elevator, and stepped in.

He watched the numbers idly, expecting it to go straight to the top floor. No one would dare stop his ascent, after all. To his great surprise, it stopped at the sixth floor, and the doors opened. There was a woman there; she didn't look very impressive, he noticed as he looked her up and down. She looked downright classless. He gave her a look of derrission, and paid her no further mind. Leaning back against a wall he waited for her to step in, flicking his cigarette in the air and ignoring the ashes that sullied the otherwise spotless floor.

Dorian was already having his second glass of Scotch when the heard the elevator finally arrive at his place.

Blasted, this better not be for another fundraiser. He thought as he sighed. Sitting in his chair he awaited for the arrival of his guest. He hadn't take a closer look with the camera surveillance. He would see the person shortly after all.

At this moment he was hoping that Elisa wasn't putting any ideas into Morgan. Morgan seemed almost as stubborn as her, if not more. Elisa was trash to him, Morgan however had a good upbringing so in his eyes there was still some hope for her.

"The door is open, sir" He yelled. Not bothering to stand up and greet his visitor. Looking to the painting of his father, as an attempt to recieve some strength for this ordeal.

Morgan gave a dismissive look to the other occupant of the elevator and lit her cigarette, her gorgeous silver lighter glinting before she replaced it into the borrowed jeans. She leaned on the wall and sighed letting a long stream of smoke float up to the ceiling of the elevator. She smoked it quickly, she needed the rush, she aswell let the ash settle to the floor. Well he had those little robot things. She prefered maids. They could be scared and drop things. Then you could laugh at them. Laughing at robots didn't sound like it would be as satisfying. She gave another glance to the man inside the little lift with her before she stepped out first. Rather brashly infact.

Morgan heard that voice that already seemed to annoy her. Sir hmmm? Well this'll be such a nice surprise for him. Morgan grinned, she looked back to the man and softly spoke, "Excuse me sir but I would appreciate if should I be allowed to go in first?" Her voice oozed class and richness, her clothes did not. But she smirked and walked in. Morgan noticed the glass filled with something. Most likely alcoholic. Had she drove him to drink? Oooooh goody. She watched him as he stared at a painting on the wall. She raised an eyebrow. Something familiar in the eyes of the painting. Could it be a relative? "Rather intrusive painting wouldn't you say? I think it would sit better on the opposite wall." She waited for him to say something. Plus for the other man to enter the room too. She didn't know what to think of the other man yet.

Rowan ignored the woman's random attempts to show off the lighter she'd probably stolen. It was rather nice he had to admit, though he personally had a collection of cheap bic lighters; he was constantly misplacing them, and it was so much easier to not worry where he put them. He continued to smoke, until the elevator finally reached it's destination. The woman didn't give him a chance to step through first, and he glared at her from behind. He was the superior here, he should go first.

But he followed her, giving her a hateful glare the whole time.

"Well, aren't you a rude little whore." He hissed. Then he came in, and looked around the room. It was very impressive, but she was right about the painting. Very intrusive, sometihng about it really weirded him out. He looked over at the seated man. "Dorian Bytorn?" he asked, completely ignoring the woman again.

((OOC Note: I'm writing things from Rowan's POV. I know Morgan is wealthy and all that, but Rowan's a little snob. ^^ Also, I apologize if this post makes no sense, I'm really tired as I write this. >_O))

As Morgan suddenly stormed in, Dorian was more than surprised. Luckily he wasn't drinking or he might had sprayed his drink all over the floor. How on earth did she ..... BLAST!!!! as screamed in his mind as he remembered that he disabled the security for Rowan. Seeing her was becoming almost as annoying as Elisa now, her second image didn't help either.

I think it would sit better on the opposite wall

"Duly noted and ignored. I believe everything we needed to discuss was done already. If you have some further business, then state it. If you wish to accept my offering of employment, then accept so. BUT since I finally can have a conversation with someone with the capacity of abstract thought, please state it and be done with it" he said with the greatest restraint not to attack her. Remaining in his seat, he pondered for second about his migraines. The alcohol had not done any of their usual effect on it yet, if it would.

When Rowan entered, his statement about an intelligent conversation seemed to be correct. He had learned a lot about him and not only when he inherited the Archeman fortune. There were some extra observations in the profile, concerning mutant powers. As mental powers are Dorian's obsession, Rowan was an obvious subject.

For his standards he gave a rather nice, albeit tired, smile. "Correct, Dorian H. Bytorn, Mister....... Archeman if memory serves me." With press of a few buttons and using the trackball in the armrest, the nine screens suddenly showed the profile of Rowan. From newspaper clippings of his new fortune to detailed pictures. None of the mutant powers of Rowan were shown. In one of the lower screens he showed a picture of Morgan in her wealthy years, in hopes to upset her enough that she would at least keep her mouth shut.

"You have come a long way and so far you do not appear be some brainless playboy. On which I compliment you. Tough I am curious what steps you intend to take for further development of your fortune."

Taking the final sip of his glass, he observed his guest a little closer. "Which I may conclude is part of the reason you are here, Mr. Archeman?" He asked nicely, but with a sterner tone in his voice. Noting suddenly that one of the small vacuum-like robots went on its way to the elevator and around his guests, he saw the cigarettes. "But please put out that blasted cigarette, I cannot stand that ritualistic behavior or the blasted smoke, especially in my own home."

Suddenly turning to Morgan, "That goes for you too". Only in tone not even half as 'polite' as he had asked Rowan.

((That is the point, Umlaut XD and Linz, yes Dorian would rather she Morgan leave. But that is like Umlaut said, just POV of the char))

"Duly noted and ignored." Morgan mimicked. She gave a polite smile although it was obviously fake. She rolled her eyes and did spot the little picture of her in her wealthy days, "You have too much fun with your little gadgets." She muttered airily. Before she turned to look at Rowan, "I am not a whore." She then smirked, "I give it away for free." Oh if only she could annoy the both of them by only speaking once. "Now, Dorian. Everything needed to be discussed by you is done." She gave anothe brief glance to Rowan, he could wait until she was finished to speak. "If you had all these files on me Dorian you'll know I was never the goody goody lady of the manor, as of which it would be appropriate for you to know I will never be goody goody lady of the manor. I speak my mind, get used to it." She shook her hair a little then looked back at him, "Now, you know of my whereabouts, I can't have you blabing to all and sundry. Or more precisely, anyone who could pass on the information to my parents. So, don't tell anyone." She gave him another polite smile and nodded her head.

"You may speak now." She said to Rowan. Her accent now wonderfully rich and oozing the kind of charm only the rich and powerful had. She did hope both hated her now. It was so much more fun than when people were nice to you.

((^_^ I figured. And if this is blah please I pray for forgiveness :-P))

((Discussed with Umlaut. Considering that in real time, these 'two' different conversations aren't really taking up that much time, the thread will continue. Rowan is still here, but momentarily silenced by the conversations between Dorian and Morgan until Umlaut returns))

Getting incredibly annoyed by Morgan and moreover by the taste of his own medicine, Dorian got up from his chair. It was rare that he had so many visitors, but even rarer that someone kept calling him by his first name. Hating it perhaps even more than Elisa being called 'Miss Marazzi' all the time.

Carefully putting away the glass as a small insurance. In the past he once had thrown something similar to one of his girlfriends. His ex-girlfriend now though. He didn't want to look unprofessional before Rowan, but he was rapidly losing his patience with Morgan.

"Excuse me one moment, Mr. Archeman" he said while walking to Morgan. Not caring anymore about Morgan's secret identity, he politely said. "I believe you should get one thing straight, Miss Thomaston. If I were to pass on this information it would be anyone but your parents or their acquaintances. In fact it would be far more likely that it would be someone without any qualms of breaking that famous sixth commandment." answering her with a smile. Then almost half-yelling at her "Do you understand!? Miss Thomaston?"

Before waiting an answer, he immediately asked for music by the voice-recognition. "Vivaldi, Violin concerto Opus 9 No. 7 in B flat." A very classical piece even back in its own days. Performed in presence of only wealthy noblemen and kings. Very suitable according to Dorian, as with this particular party. One who had lost her wealth, one that always had his wealth and one that finally had received wealth.

((Aha, okies. Sounds sensible.))

Morgan stood her ground and her face and body posture didn't alter at all. She just stared at Dorian and waited for his little tantrum to finish, "Now, now Dorian, shouting isnt going to achieve anything now is it?" She smirked, oh she really bugged him didn't she? How fun. It would seem Elisa's plan to bring Morgan back in order to annoy Dorian had worked out afterall.

"But good boy not going to tell." She said condesendingly, hey he was allowed why wasnt she? She wanted his face to turn that neat purpley colour!

Stupid woman, you have a death wish? I'm the crimelord GENESIUS! One of the most wanted! he thought. Of course she couldn't possibly know that and possibly not even care about it even if she knew. Her manners were below everything he had ever encountered. Even Elisa showed some respect from time to time.

But good boy not going to tell

Dorian just had to strike back now. Annoy her, humiliate her, a stab at her heart, anything. He didn't want to lose. Running out of ways to do that, he gambled on his theories about her brother.
Giving a snide remark "Don't push your luck. I may hold back your identity for now, but not the information what happened to your brother. That would make your future quite certain. I believe it would not involve a mansion."

"And just exactly did happen to my Brother hrmm?" She knew he had no clue. Oh this was war! He was trying to beat her? Impossible. She couldn't allow that. She was too stubourn at times. "Because you have absolutely no idea, don't even think you can threaten me and don't tell me what to do!" She yelled back. Oh he had made her raise her voice. He was insufferable! Why did he get on her nerves so much?

She was not going to back down easily. He was so aragont and uptight and annoying and stubourn! She mentally kicked herself. She was all those things. She was cursing inside her head.

Dorian was cursing inside his head too. His little plan backfired, as he for sure didn't know what exactly had happened to her brother. From his observations it was certain she had some connection to her brother's demise. Question was if she was the cause of his death or not. And the question if it was an accident or not.

Trying to suppress the urge of yelling or hitting her, he answered her question. Gambling bit further on the brother subject. It at least drew some reaction from her. But realizing that he might lose, he remained vague as always. "Concerning your brother, I think we both can agree upon the fact that this motto would suit you, my dear." quoting dictator Joseph Stalin. "Death solves all problems. No man, no problem"

"Surely you can understand what I am saying. Or is your insignificant mind uncapable to comprehend that?" A slight change of tactics, to make certain she would ask any more questions he couldn't answer. At least hoping she was too stubborn or arogant to look foolish. Then again the word dignity is not in that womans vocabulary.

"And the man who quotes Stalin is dictating morals to me?!" She snapped back. She was so glad she had actually known that. And that was purely through chance. But she was standing ground. Although the talk about her brother was causing her to be a little rattled. But she didn't show every emotion, "And does you insignifficant mind comprehend, no man, many problems or has my present prediciment been forgotten by your clouded, arrogont, ignorant little mind?" Why did she care so much about this mans opinion? She shuddered and stared down at the floor. She focused herself and her thoughts then looked back up at him.

"I have said all I needed to and more than I had wanted to. I hope I didn't take up too much of your time." She thought taking the high road would stop the conversation about her brother. About her past, she had to stop that. "If you'll excuse I am about to walk out of your life." She gave him a small nod. Hoping he didn't say anything or do anything to keep her there. She hoped he didn't, she couldn't talk about Martin! She doesn't care about his opinion, nope, not at all, so she could leave and she wouldn't care if he should think of this as a victory. Besides she knew she had won anyway. She'd taken the high road and was willing to walk away.

Dorian was a bit surprised, he wasn't used that some people recognized some of his quotes. In his mind he admitted that she was right, that it was a rather foolish one to choose. However that way she talked back and insulted him even more than he did to her, gave him a little edge. When she shuddered, he was certain his gamble was at least partially true. Though his anger was still at a boiling point, as he didn't like to be insulted.

If you'll excuse I am about to walk out of your life

She is retreating, an interesting turn of events he thought. Answering her in usual manner, "No need to apologize, at least I did not threw away my life...or any possible chance to restore some of the past."

Turning his back to her, he was about to pour himself another drink and one of his other guest. When suddenly he looked at her again with a wicked smile. He added to his statement "See you again soon, Miss Thomaston."

Oh he was pushing his luck. Morgan stopped, she visibly had to withstrain herself. Her muscles tensed and she clutched her fingers into a fist, she moved her neck slightly and it cracked.

She turned around to look at him, she didn't say anything though, she just watched him. She was not seeing him again! She couldn't stand him. Why would she need to see him again? Why would he want to see her again? "Throw my life away?" She repeated, "Just because I had money and standing you assume that was a life?" She laughed, he wouldn't get the joke. "You can't live in the past Dorian, and you can't get it back." She said that softly and wisely. The past was where it should be, behind you. She gave him a slight glance then looked to the painting and shook her head softly as she started to walk away again.

Not even sparing one look anymore to Morgan. He finished pouring the glasses. Listening to what she said last.

You can't live in the past... and you can't get it back

"How many futile attempts you have tried to convince yourself of just that? It was a live indeed for you could control most of it, Miss Thomaston, now mere survival does control you every day." Not turning back to her, for his intentions was not to continue this conversation; he hoped that she would think about his rhetorical question. Hopefully she would not respond in the ways of his employee, who had the annoying habit of talking first instead of thinking. However he liked the fact that she was retreating, which in his eyes was that he was on the winning side. He always enjoyed a chance to gloat.

"Now leave to my other guest, I'm sure we will discuss it in the near future" he said. He could not care about the past, apart of his father that is.

Morgan laughed again and turned over her shoulder to glance at Dorian slightly, she raised an eyebrow, "You know at first I hated you, but you're very amusing...you think you've got all the answers." She laughed once more. "Bless." She added as an after thought in a mutter.

She gave a brief nod to the other guest in the room feeling quite sorry for him to be stuck here with Dorian. But she wasn't going to be. She headed for the door hoping he would not want the last word.

((Morgan out to Streets))

"Are you still here?" Dorian sarcastically remarked without looking. Before any reply could be spoken, he quickly added "and the feeling is mutual, miss Thomaston."

Returning to his more important guest, at least in Dorian's eyes, he offered a drink. Getting back in his seat, he apologized to him for the previous conversation with Morgan. "It is always the same with some people. Don't you agree, mr. Archeman?"

((It's blah, I know.))

Rowan had been watching the two fight like a bad ping pong match, keeping his silence in a sort of strange awe. He was appalled that they'd have the sheer gall to argue while HE was waiting. How could anyone possibly be so rude, particularly to HIM? Didn't they know who he was?

He took the time to examine the room. It was all very expensive. He approved, though it all looked a little too new. He preferred antiquity.

He watched Morgan storm out with a sneer on his face. He accepted Dorian's drink, and took a sip of it casually. He approved of it as well.

"That took long enough. What a waste of time." He said reproachfully.

((Not my best, but I'm out of practice. ))

Morgan really needed some further studying, Dorian thought as she left. He had made several critical errors in his judgement about her personality. Nonetheless he considered it a slight victory.

That took long enough. What a waste of time

As he watched his guest's future image from his seat, he really disapproved of the man's behaviour. Not something Dorian had totally expected and therefore a reason for annoyance. In his mind he was wondering where the respect of this world had gone to.

"So says the man who comes to my place unannounced, inexperienced in true business and less than interesting in personality." He said with a hard voice. "Now I don't wish to discuss the previous conversation, so please state your business. You obviously came here with some other reason then a friendly chat. Hopefully that reason will not be a waste of time." He then took a sip of his drink. He still had a migraine, but it was slowly getting better. Unfortunately he knew that he couldn't fully trust his powers from that point on.

Rowan raised an eyebrow, not liking the man's tone. How dare he talk to him like that? Part of Rowan wanted to reach over and smack him. Fortunately he had enough self control to hide this urge. He needed this Dorian Bytorn, and if anything, Rowan was smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut, most of the time.

"I was simply saying that the arguement was unnecessary and a waste of both our time. You are a busy man, and so I am, we don't need a crazy woman taking up what little time we have." He explained half lying. He'd really been angry at being ignored as though he was nothing.

"As for my business here, I have an proposition for you, Mr. Bytorn." He said, leaning forward in his seat, resting his drink on his knee. "One you might like, as a matter of fact."

It was now Dorian's turn to raise an eyebrow. The obvious polite lie from Rowan was nothing that impressed him, though he was glad that his guest was civil enough to do so. Especially considering the previous conversation.

When Rowan final announced he indeed came for business Dorian could help but smile. Being a bit dramatic in your role, aren't you?

Giving his guest a reply, aptly spoken in a milder voice. ""That you have a proposition is obvious. Given your new fortune you might be wary and mistrusting, there are many that can take away your fortune with ease. Even without breaking any law."

Turning his chair away from his guest towards the screens, he went on to show more pictures and clips of Rowan's rise.

"If another person could see us now, he would believe that you wish to find out my methods and somehow duplicate them. In a way to disguise that cause would be to act as a true businessman, while we both know you lack that experience or the reputation."

The word 'reputation' stayed with Dorian for moment. Given his own reputation he gave it some thought. Depending on this conversation, he might have some use for his guest. I may have a proposition of my own afterwards.

Turning back towards his guest he became a bit nicer, though not by much. "However in the words of Napoleon Bonaparte; ability is of little account without opportunity. And I perhaps may be interested in your proposition. That opportunity, so to speak, may be enough for me to grant you some ability. Or more commonly said, some power. So please continue."

Rowan was beginning to become frustrated by his inability to gain the upper hand in the situation. It was hard to believe that this man was Rowan's age. He behaved so much older. Rowan was reminded of his father.

This man, Rowan thought, was an arrogant idiot. You never underestimated someone, Rowan knew this despite all his own arrogance, no matter how small they might seem. Not that Rowan could ever seem small. At least not to himself.

No one would be taking his fortune, at least, legally or illegally. His father had had the brains to leave him a pricey team of lawyers to ensure the security of his wealth. It'd been in the Archemans possibly since America began, and there was no way it was going anywhere.

He knew he would have to play this carefully. Very carefully. Dorian Bytorn had a reputation that might even make Rowan's lawyer army tremble.

"You seem to be doing fairly well," Rowan began, knowing this was an understatement. "However, you could always do better. Anyone can. I myself am not doing bad, though I have representatives left by my father doing all the work for me. Perhaps we can combine our efforts and do even better? Of course neither of us would touch the other one's property. What is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours. We'd just work together and split any profits down the middle."

Hah. Like someone like Bytorn wouldn't look to make the bigger profit. Rowan was sure he planned to use him as a pawn.

((Sorry that took SOOOO long, I'm just really stressed lately.))

When Rowan gave the polite opening, by understating Dorian's fortune, it became rather easy to deduce where things were heading. Given his dealings with the underworld and his personal studies showed him something else too. It was understandable to reason that Rowan would rather have a lackey, rather than a partner. Though Dorian had trouble pinpointing if it was ONLY greed that motivated Rowan.

The deal was not what he had hoped for though, his pursuit in life was not money. Though it was partially materialistic, but mainly the challenge of defeating Xavier and the X-men. When it was Dorian's turn to answer to Rowan's promise, he spoke in clear but polite tone. "As Michelangelo Buonarroti once said: The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark."

Stretching a bit in his chair, he finished his drink. His headache was almost over by it and his powers more unreliable. He continued in usual matter: "The principle of parsimony, or more commonly known as Occam's Razor, would state that accumulating a greater fortune is not my priority. Given after all, by my own reputation. If my sin would be greed, my actions would be more of social kind so to speak. In order to gain business-contacts for one obvious reason. Hence I probably would be visitor at your place."

Giving Rowan a rather wicked and arrogant smile, he said "Yet as it is you who appears to be the guest, I would believe that the facts speak clearly for themselves."

Standing up from his chair, to put away his glass, he slowly turned his back on Rowan. When reaching the cabinet he decided to have another drink instead. All the while he continued speaking "That does not however, exclude any possible business between us. You clearly did some research on me, on which I commend you, Mr. Archeman. And if you have listened carefully to me, you could offer some assistance in one particular aspect of my life."

((It's okay, Umlaut. And for the record, it's NOT the X-men he's talking about. He has not mentioned them))

((OOC: Sorry about that on MSN by the way. I was re-reading the thread to familiarize myself with it again and it didn't ping when you messaged. :/))

Rowan raised an eyebrow, taking everything Dorian said in and giving it some thought. "I'm more... bored than greedy, to be honest." He replied, after some thought. "I need something to do with my life, and my former job was just not worth keeping. So I suppose I'm here because you may just have something for me to do." He shrugged.

"However, I think I know what you want me to help you with..." he went on slowly. "I think you want me to use my clean, if dull reputation to cover up your dirty one. People are more likely to trust someone who has no history over someone who does, after all."

((And sorry it was so short.))

Listening to what Rowan said, Dorian could not help but to have some respect for his guest. He did recognize somewhat of himself, It was a long time before he himself had found his "conquest in life". He seems to have some intelligence, though not a purpose. What a shame. He quietly thought.

Even more impressed that he figured out what Dorian had meant. His reputation was slowly becoming a tightening noose around Dorian's neck. The building alone gave many rumors. Not to mention Dorian's personal lifestyle.

"That your reputation is dull, as you put it, doesn't indeed mean it is useless." Deciding not to drink anymore for the day, he went back to his seat. "You are correct, there are many rumors about me." Laughing a bit he told some of the more extreme ones. "They say that I perform satanic rituals in here, or tremendous hedonistic orgies. Or that I'm actually one of the greatest crimelords of our time, that I have sold Lucifer my soul, or in fact that I am a demon or worse a mutant."

Sighing, though laughing in his mind for putting the truth in previous sentences. "I don't expect this to turn around very soon. My business requires my full attention, this will only make things worse. However being the 'silent partner' of your business can be very useful for me. At which I am certain we can work out an agreement. You can play the public face of our business."

With his familiar smile he added to all that, "Use what talents you possess; The woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best, William Blake."