Gods and Monsters
"...--" Excuses raddled on from the lowly businessman, causing a crease in the brow of the Nightshade employee. Cigarette held in suspension as it halted in it's path to his mouth and a glare intensified through blue tinted glasses. It was like this all day. Excuses, excuses, excuses on top of whining, bitching, and one too many failed attempts at sympathy. The weight of each irritant held on tightly to Shizuo's shoulders and he wouldn't be relinquished from such an annoyance until he found a proper outlet for it all.
"--This is what's to be expected for a new business. Profit, and a great deal of it, should be well on it's way. I just need a little more money, I could just take out another loan."
I'm gonna fucking hit him.
This thought was counterproductive to all the work he put toward good behavior at his new job. Even if his higher ups knew about his infamy in Ikebukuro, it wouldn't save him from getting that pink slip indicating a job loss. Grinding his teeth out of habit, the brute shot his hardened glance to the new recruit. This was their first job together, so needless to say he wasn't sure how she would react to this situation, but he sure as hell knew how to. Of course, he was simply the bodyguard, but that didn't stop him from taking the lead. After all, he had to show his trainee the ropes.
Taking a final drag from his cigarette as he threw it to the ground and put it out with a dramatic stomp. Upon removing his glasses and placing them within the safety of his pocket, a brow lifted in anger. Advancing on the lowly businessman, if he could even be called such a title, Shizuo began a rant of his own. "So, you mean to tell me after six months of business, you haven't come up with a single dime of pay? How are you surviving? I can tell from that damn gut of yours that you're eating just fine."
A huff of hopeless amusement, the brute cracked his usual grin. "--and you can pay us with anything. We have a barter system. You mean to say you can't even give us a fucking lamp as payment? A goddamn, old-as-shit, piece of junk lying around the house?" Managing to back the businessman into a corner, the blonde gripped his shoulder with the intensity of two cities. It was more than enough to get a small, satisfying squeak from his victim. Shizuo felt sick to his stomach, but continued on out of habitual animosity.
"Nishiki," He beckoned, eyes kept on their client. "I've had it with this louse's stupid fucking excuses. Why don't I just knock him out and take the clothes off his back for payment?"
