A single light hung over the ceiling of a rundown pub in the streets of London, the owner sat at his table counting his ill-gotten goods with a chuckle and a large cigar. [i]Puff Puff Puff[/i] clouds of smoke rose from the plump man’s full cracked lips as his green eyes twinkled at the money in his hands, he was full of indescribable joy until the front door opened and shut. “We’re closed.” The man bellowed in dislike of the arrival. “Oh I know.” A deep voice said in response as the door slammed shut with a vast amount of authority that pulled the plump man from his money to the person in the door way. The six foot two dashing young man made his way inside, his hair was fluffy and dark but nicely taken care of. His muscular built body was well hidden behind a set of muggle clothing of a black shirt with a leather jacket and dark blue jeans. The bright blue eyes of the dark haired man dug into the plump owner as he strolled his way casually across the pub before taking a seat across from the owner and his money. The young man looked around the pub for a minute before looking back at the owner and raising his eyebrows. “This place blows…” “Excuse me!” The plump man snapped at the young man. “Just who do you think you are barging in here when the sign obviously says we’re closed, and then insult my place of business!” The young man slammed his fist suddenly on the table, the money bouncing and clattering about from their perfectly stacked way across the table. “Excuse me?!” The young man snapped back with much more authority that seemed to overshadow the plump man. “I believe I was talking!” A solid glare of disapproval left the young man as he looked deep into the owner’s eyes. “As I was saying…” His tone started to lighten up from his fist slam and harsh speak earlier, “This place blows and you owe some very important people a lot of money…” “You’re from…” Again the young man slammed his fist onto the table top; the only following sound was some of the money hitting the wooden floor. “I’m talking.” The young man demanded in a forceful tone that shook the room. “You owe money to some very important people and they have sent [i]me[/i] to collect it.” The plump man swallowed hard, his eyes filled with fear and that was enjoy to cause the blue eyed man’s full lips to curl into a smirk. “I am from them, and you picked the wrong group to mess with. As I see it you have one of two choices, you can pay me all you owe and the interest you have built by making [i]me[/i] come all the way out here for this piss-poor reasoning or…” He pulled out his wand and slowly spun it in his fingers. “you can die. Those are your only options.” The plump man sat in silence staring at the young man who was playing with his wand in such a casual manner. It was eerie in a way; the man being so young and yet so casual about taking another man’s life. Just how long had he been doing this? How many lives has this particular guy taken and what the fuck was he doing tracking down protection money? “Hhhheeerreeee…..” The plump pub owner said in a shaky manner pushing the money that he had been counting from the safe across the table to the brunette. “That’s all the money I have from my back safe. Please just… just take it; and please… please tell Mister Gigliotti I’ll never be late for another payment again.” “That’s right.” The young man said sliding the goods cross the table and waiting the rest of the money to be picked up off the floor by the man who was drastically pleading to be left on good terms with his employer. “You won’t be because next time, you won’t get a choice. And dying by my hand isn’t the best way to go.” His voice was sickeningly playful, a threat and a promise with a mix of his humor. “Now before I leave.” He said collecting the bag and standing up, “What do we say when we’ve done something wrong?” His lecture to the man who was clearly older than him was that of someone doing to a child. “I… I…. I’m ssssorry…” The man said nearly groveling at the feet of the young man who just smirked down at him before turning on his heel and leaving the pub. A single encounter with Trenton Arklander can leave quite a few people breathless; in this case the man was left holding his heart and staring at the shutting door, just thankful to be alive. ---- “Don’t ever make me do that again.” Trenton said standing at the full service bar in black dress robes talking to an older man in maroon colored dress robes. Both men were sipping on glasses of scotch enjoying a conversation about the situation that had transgressed earlier in the evening. “I had no choice,” The older man, Emanuel Gigliotti said with a shrug of innocence to him, “I’ve sent multiple people to collect the funds from him and he still didn’t figure out that he was supposed to pay on time. So I thought, ‘Send Trenton and it will never happen again’; and I’m sure it won’t.” “I doubt he’ll want to pay the next amount of interest with any body parts so I’m sure it won’t be an issue again.” Trenton said with a sly grin before the two knocked their glasses together and finished the last of their scotch. “I must get to my seat before the dinner begins and I have to give my speech. The food’s great tonight so enjoy yourself tonight, you work hard for me it’s the least I can do.” The old man said gratefully as he patted Trenton on the shoulder and walked off. Trenton couldn’t help but grin, he didn’t work hard; in fact that man enjoyed his job rather well and found fun in it. Plus it kept him in good shape and the Ministry never caught on that a young man like him would be so tremendously skilled and deviant in his ways. But no one’s taken the time to get to know him… their loss; he thought he was funny and fun to be around. Shrugging more to himself than to anyone else, he picked up his refill of the scotch and walked around the room, talking to a few people before everyone was instructed to find their places for the meal to begin. After searching for a little while, Trenton finally found his place with two familiar faces and two unfamiliar faces. “Hello Morgania, as beautiful as ever.” Trenton said with charm in his voice and a twinkle in his eye, only to match the aged woman’s flirty eyes and playful wave. “And Mister Bernard, looking as dashing as ever.” “You clean up well Trenton.” The older man said with a chuckle as the tall young man sat down next to a beautiful young Indian woman who was with some [i]way[/i] too clean cut guy. Oh yeah, he could spot that a mile away. “Hello, I’m Trenton.” He introduced himself to the man beside her before turning his complete attention and those bright blue eyes to her. “Trenton Arklander,” The ministry had a basic file on him. Graduated Durmstrang Institute with the highest marks in his year; qualified for Auror training but turned down the job due to ‘seeking other life opportunities’. Pureblood from a long line of pureblood families born with the silver spoon of society that just so happens to be resting in the golden bowl. Current Job: “A little of this, a little of that. I help where I can.” a quote for the notation in his file at the Ministry of Magic. “And you are…” He inquired as he took her hand from the shaking position and gently kissed the top of it, smart enough to not take his eyes off of her but charming enough to still hold that playful twinkle in his eyes. Okay, maybe tonight won’t be a total loss. [img]http://media.giphy.com/media/rNRcRkvuq3b5m/giphy.gif[/img]