Nov 1, 2017 - the Serpent's Lair - 12:50 PM

Ronan leaned back in his chair, feet up on the table. He was rubbing the chin of one of the cats that often came into the bar. He had just witnessed a bundle of incidents. After the first, Ronan chuckled to himself. Magnus truly believed he would live. He would, just not for long.

Ronan still had an eye on his target, the cat getting upset on the few occasions where he stopped petting it. Ronan didn't know what Magnus did, but, like the board said, he clearly pissed some people off. Maybe, instead of killing him, he should tell him how to not be a complete ass. That is, if Magnus would listen. 

Ronan moved the cat onto his lap and he sat normally, ready to dig into the meat pie he had ordered. That was, until the sound of Magnus's head slapping a table startled the cat and drew his attention. A very shady man, one even more questionable than Ronan was, had smacked Magnus's head against the table. The only place he recognized the man was from earlier, he was the guy that threw money at the beggars. Ronan figured this guy was a menace, and should probably leave him and anyone he deals with alone. He had to kill Magnus though. He accepted a contract and wouldn't, no he couldn't, go back on that. Even if he promised a message board, he still wouldn't go back on it. 

Ronan's hand went into his pocket as he eyed Magnus's drink. Even after being assaulted twice, the man didn't budge from his spot. He even ordered a replacement drink, since his original fell onto the ground. It was time to go in. Ronan took one of his groceries out of his pocket and read the label. It was a bottle of pure, liquid zinc phosphide. He'd pour the whole damn bottle into Magnus's drink. It would either kill him or make him very sick. Either way, it would lead to something Ronan wanted. The only downside was that after Magnus drank it, it might take days or weeks for the effects to show. If the Devil said he wouldn't die today, Ronan hoped it would be tomorrow. 

Ronan asked for his meal to be put in a bag. After poisoning the son of a bitch, he was going to head home and start working on his stew. He didn't want to be caught up in the mess that would come after. 

Ronan walked over to Magnus, sliding the poison back into his pocket. He undid the lid as he spoke, leaning onto the table where the replacement drink was. 

"Hey man, you alright? Not really your day, is it?"

"Not really, but I'm still alive." 

"That's right, you're not going to die today right? Not according to that fancy dish." Ronan pointed to what was left of the Devil's Taste. It was sitting on the floor. Ronan's sister would've described it as sad, and Ronan agreed. It was sitting there, deflated. If it were alive, it would not be happy. 

Magnus laughed, looking at the sad dish on the floor. "Let's just hope it's right!" 

While Magnus was looking at the revolting blob on the floor, Ronan slipped the poison into his drink. It wasn't as quiet as Ronan would've liked, but the chatter around them was enough to distract. 

Ronan gave Magnus a pat on the back, "Good luck to you man, hopefully you won't get assaulted a third time today."

Ronan grabbed the bag that held his meat pie and walked out the door, a smirk on his face. Sure, he wouldn't die today, but he would be eventually. His next hit was the girl, but he didn't want to do that one today. Ronan wouldn't kill her, he'd just silence her. Whether that meant fixing whatever was bothering her or some other means, he didn't know yet. 

Ronan sat down in the park closest to the Serpent's Lair. He pulled out his meat pie. It wasn't crushed, nor was it flakey. He could eat it like a large cookie. Ronan held it in his hands while he ate it. As soon as the flavor of it hit his tongue, he smiled. Hopefully today would be as easy as pouring a vial of poison into a drink.