Two Flints to Make a Fire // Harry & Ursula
"Who wouldn’t do something like this is the question you should be askin’. It’s all social politics, babe. You don’t know dog eat dog world until you’ve been to Regium, California. It’s a pit. If someone says they’re your friend, it really means that they would crawl over your shambling corpse to get out of here." Harry shrugged, as if everything he was saying was very normal. "C’est la vie. I don’t threaten, doll, but I would put money on the fact that this won’t be the last time you’ve got cleaners scrubbing blood out of your carpets. I hate when they ruin the carpets. Had to get mine replaced after that slaughter on Halloween. For some reason, playing poker in Marshall Koning’s blood stain just didn’t sell like I hoped it would. Guess you can’t count on anybody to live life on the edge anymore, huh?"
He approached her, pie in front of him, thinking (or hoping at least) that she would be less likely to hit him if he was carrying pie. “Should have ducked and covered, darlin’. You can’t step outside your door these days without getting dragged into the game. You play or you get played.” Unsure if she knew how heavily entrenched he was in the Sidera and their drug trade, he didn’t say anything to the effect of his own involvement in the game. “How does it feel to be part of it? Because you are now, even if you managed to avoid it before. They put a bullet right between the comish’s eyes in your club. You been marked, Lennox.” He held up the pie. “Pie? It’s apple.”
Ursula knew about the dog-eat-dog world that Harry spoke of. Even before she made her way into the center of the city where all the big boys played, she had learned that it was eat or be eaten, kill or be killed. She and Triton both had learned that the hard way. "I guess it's a good thing I don't believe in friends," she said, before heaving a sigh. "I always did find them to be a pain in the ass." Looking down at the carpet, she couldn't help but smile a little at his joke. Harry might have been the scum of the earth, but he shared that particular dark sense of humor that she had, and she appreciated that in a way. He wasn't afraid to speak his mind - a fact that both enraged her and endeared him to her the slightest amount. "Here's hoping that any future corpses will bleed out in the bathroom where it's easier to clean," she said, shaking her head slightly.
She looked back up again, watching him carefully as he moved towards her, carrying the pie as if it were his shield. She couldn't help but chuckle a little inwardly. If she wanted to hurt him, there was no way a little bit of pie was going to stop her. Raising her hand up to stop him as he got close, she fixed him with a stern look. "I told you Harry, no funny business. I'm in a mood, and I will poke your beady little eyes out with a fork if I need to." Lowering her hand, she still watched him carefully, as on guard as she always was. It occurred to her that perhaps inviting her worst enemy to spend the evening with her while she was in a vulnerable situation wasn't the wisest move that she had made, but it was too late to back out now. Harry would never let her forget it if she showed weakness now. "It feels like I want to put five more bullets between his eyes myself," she said, tilting her head back slightly. "I'll be taking this up with some of my clients, don't you worry. Someone's gonna pay, and it ain't gonna be me." As he offered the pie, she patted a spot on the bar, nodding to it. "You want me to get plates so that we can eat like civilized folk, or do you mind using your hands like the uncouth animal that you are?"
