An antique - but still very fast - sleek black British motorcycle, a Vincent Black Shadow, roars its way through the West End. It's taken some time, but Alain's learned how to make his way through narrow RhyDin streets with it, when to coast and when to open up, which routes to take and which to avoid at all costs. After learning all the tricks, it's almost like driving in a normal city.

It also helps that at least some of the regulars to the West End district have gotten used to seeing him, and know to drift to one side or the other when they hear that roar.

Alain coasts the rest of the way to the Onyx Lotus shop and kills the engine. He pushes back his sunglasses to squint at the sign, and as he climbs off onto the cobblestone street, he adjusts his trench coat to stay over his shoulder-holstered revolver. The shopkeep (and hopefully Myllyanna, if he gets to see her) will notice he's packing sooner or later, but there's no need for that to be the first thing they see.

The last time he saw the Lady of ShinKa Keep, he was a mercenary and a smuggler with a pair of hip-holstered blasters and a matching swagger. Now it is a quieter, more mature confidence that carries him through that front door, plucking his sunglasses from his hair to pocket them.

With his history in smuggling and now in security contracting, he's quite used to exotic goods, but rarely such a wide variety in such a small space. He looks around for a "No Smoking" sign or anything in other language that might resemble one, and when he finds none, he assumes it's allowed. He lights an elvish cigarette and, after another look around, approaches the counter.

Alain understands maintaining a deceptive surface better than he would like to now... More than his poise and stride, the cut of his clothing, has changed about him. His skin is a shade paler, his eyes a brighter blue, and if she has any means of reading feelings, his are a confusing and deceptive mass.

Working undercover has its upsides and downsides.

As Ami puts herself out of the way, Alain places all his attention on Myllyanna. He taps his cigarette over the porcelain ashtray and smiles slowly at her.

"Indeed... I believe the last time you saw me, I was well on my way to earning these scars," he says with a soft chuckle, turning his right hand over to hold his cigarette aside and show the palm of his hand at the same time. Burn scars, quite faded now but still distinct.

"As I imagine you can guess, it's business that has brought me here. The political and economic landscape of RhyDin has changed since you and I worked together - there is peace to be kept, and profits to be made."

He grins with the cigarette set between his lips, twisting it around as he does. "And for once, the two go hand in hand."

He follows her - if there weren't such serious business to attend to, he would spend more time examining his curious surroundings. But it is critical he pay close attention to the Ancient.

"They serve as a good reminder," he replies simply to the question of the scars, and takes a seat across from her, tapping his cigarette again over the ashtray. Ami gets a subtle motion of his hand and a slight nod for the tea.

"I understand completely... and I agree - such matters are better behind closed doors, or at least beyond the curtain, as it were." He smiles again.

"How's business?"

"The family?" That question always makes Alain pause. His fellow D'Mourirs (and he's heard rumor of a Clarendon or two wandering around, though not for some time)...

"...They've slipped off the map, mostly. I see a few of them occasionally - and as for the rest? Who can tell?"

He sips his tea carefully. "Business is good, though. I've been expanding into other small businesses while the detective agency and security company continue to grow, slowly but surely. Engaging more in entrepeneurship has... opened my eyes on a level I did not entirely expect."

"The health of the city and the strength of the market are closely linked, and there are many out there who make this city ill in the name of short-term gain. I have a contract of sorts, a very unusual one, with a man of business who understands this dilemma all too well."

"The view is my own." He sets his tea down quietly and retries his cigarette from the edge of the ashtray, watching her carefully.

"Call it what you will, but I've had a fair amount of time to arrive at the views I have now. I realize that, inevitably, a RhyDinian black market is going to exist... and a grey market may even be healthy, necessary for the economy. If these sections of the market are going to exist, and may even need to exist, they may as well be controlled by the best and the brightest."

He takes a long drag, and blows a little smoke ring just for kicks. He watches it dissipate slowly... "People who won't run around blowing up buildings and shooting up diners and murdering just because they can. People who understand long-term gain." Bright eyes cut over to her again.

"Businesspeople."

"It's not the pawn shops that concern me, but the larger black market business interests of this city who use violence in senseless, excessive ways."

He watches her walk to the window to watch the street below, a fine-lined frown etched into his brow.

"With many of these businesses out of the way, your own would flourish... and as you've always handled your affairs quietly and responsibly, I don't see any reason why anyone, lawman or otherwise, would pay you any mind. These senseless crimelords... well..."

He finishes his cigarette and puts it out. "Quite frankly, some of these people need to die."

It's a chess match, carefully planned - every pause not only for consideration of the next move, but to let the other know that you are thinking, and keeping from them what those plans are. He sips his tea carefully not once but twice, clicks the teacup back into its saucer, folds his hands, and at last speaks.

"If my people or if Watchmen begin killing off gang and syndicate leaders, questions I don't want asked will arise. ...If your people assassinate the odd crimelord, I can arrange it so it is merely considered 'bloodletting' - that the rival gangs are killing each other, and the best thing is to let them kill each other off without any intervention. Each target would be a rival of yours on some level. Every assassination would add points to your stock."

He pauses to itch at his jaw, and looks up at her: "It is a risk, to be sure... but this gamble could, say... double your profits, in the end?" He smiles.

"As far as a guarantee... I have contacts within the Watch, including an entire company wholly trained by an employee of mine. Lt. O'Brien within the West End has demonstrated his flexibility so far, and the Watchman they call Paladin is a friend and ally of mine. Obligations that follow?"

He smiles, shrugs his shoulders slightly. "Don't engage in senseless violence. Don't blow up any buildings - that is, unless it's strictly necessary."

He taps the edge of his saucer thoughtfully, his smile growing. "Ironically enough, the man I am under contract with is not aware of the more specific actions I have been taking - I think he wishes to be able to plead ignorance. He's allowed me a great deal of flexibility with his funding... and if I find his name has gone beyond your closest confidantes, the deal is off, and we will never have any business with each other."

Another sip is taken. The cup replaced, he too crosses the room to the window, looking out at the street. "Count Longden, of SECTOR. There are other funds I have directed towards this particular project in secret, but he is the largest contributor by far."

"As you said yourself, it's been a long time, Myllyanna," he smiles, bowing his head to her. "A lot can change... though for my part, I'm happy to see you haven't changed much at all."

He turns to reapproach the table, facing her.

"As sharp as you are beautiful, as careful as you are dangerous." His smile turns a bit crooked as he retakes his seat, refills his cup, and sips it.

"I'm sure you have your own informants and your own funding... but I'm prepared to offer the intelligence to see this done, and I'm willing to negotiate a limited degree of direct financial compensation... although I'm sure you realize the long-term payoff is much greater than what I can offer you out of my own contract."

He stands slightly to remove his trench coat and folds it double over his lap; he takes a long envelope out of one of the pockets, tears open the end, and pours out two neatly folded papers. One is slid directly across the table - it has numbers, figures. The technical data. The offer itself.

The second paper has a list of names, with a paragraph detailing places and types of operations, aliases, known henchmen and contract workers for each big name... He leaves it in the open just long enough for her to get an idea of what's on there, and then draws it back several inches and places his hand over it.

Bright blue eyes rest directly on hers. "You were saying something about sealing the deal."

"It's not an issue of money outright, Myllyanna... but power," he says plainly, as if he were discussing the weather.

"In my line of work, I get to see a lot of what goes on in this city... and I think I've come to an understanding, that this city does not need to be rid of its criminal element per se, but those most reckless, perhaps on both sides. Financially speaking? Other than the continuation of the contract that makes this possible for another quarter, in the long term my security businesses would suffer as a result of the increased stability. But the security business is not my only business, so this is a cut in profit I'm willing to take."

He steeples his fingers, frowning as he thinks this over, chin leaned onto his hands, staring somewhere past her. "I guess... what I've really come to desire is... just one morning where I can go to Lt. O'Brien of the West End Watch and ask him, Quiet night? And for him to turn and look me in the eye, and say quite seriously, Yes, and leave it at that. Too many mornings I've had a knock on my door at dawn to see the latest grisly murder, and a few times too many, I've known the victim. I've appealed to one of the city's larger wallets for a chance to see one quiet night... but it's not about money for me."

He looks back at her again. "You have my personal guarantee... but if you're still concerned, give me a contract and I'll sign it. Keep it with you, keep it secret, and if I ever betrayed you, all you would have to do is show the contract to the Watch or the Governor, and my career would be ruined. Give me such a contract, and I'll gladly sign it. I'm sure I can even get a few Watch officers to sign similar contracts that they've been bribed, for me to hold onto lest they have any second thoughts."

He looks at the paper... and then begins to write. Usually he's not the one writing out the contracts himself, but he's learned a thing or two about them, and it doesn't take him more than a few minutes. When he's done... he sighs, and removes the massive revolver from its holster.

"One of my favorites... I was hoping to kill a man with it before we parted ways." He smiles and offers it over to her. "Taurus Raging Bull - uses .454 Casull rounds. Not the easiest ammunition to find, but I'm sure with your resources, you'll be able to locate it well enough. It's powerful... precise... sure to stop a man in his tracks." It's a rather modern-looking revolver, but a thing of beauty in its own right.

...things will be much more formal from this day on.

"But of course," Alain smiles, at last rising from his seat. "Next time, Myllyanna, dinner - my treat. Enjoy the rest of your day. I'm sure we'll be in touch." His head is bowed respectfully to her.

He straightens his collar and descends the stairs, greeted by the seven. He cannot help but wonder if the number is deliberate. It's a good opportunity to try and commit the faces of her lieutenants to memory, in any case... Out through the curtain, he leaves the shop of this dangerous but valuable ally.

"I am fine Hao," she had walked away from her chair a bit. A new smoldering cigarette in the end of her stick. The ashtray and stand that had been near Alain's seat quietly and most curiously became animated and walked towards the beckoning finger of the Dragon Lady. It even made the sound of a small pet as it hurried over to her.

"I want you to have one of your choosing to get a part time job." He would know what she meant right away. Instead of tapping her ashes into the tray, she plucked the spent end of the one Alain D'Mourir had left behind between silver nails.

"wasn't that sweet of him to leave me an extra gift?" the smile that grew across her lips was pure delight as she held it up, as if watching it do a trick of some sort, that only she could see. She turned as she dropped it into a small pocket on a string.

"That will be all Hao. Unless you want to help move the warehouse..." she looked over her shoulder and sharply raised her brow.