LOCATION: A small eatery in Essyrn has tables set up outside, each with a large umbrella for shade. They set unused by the patrons, but it is a frequent resting stop of random passers-by and occasionally Bartelby Jove.
The sun had worked from behind the giant blue umbrella, and now its golden rays assaulted Bartelby as he laid back in his chair. His fingers were interlaced behind his head as he laid there, and his legs crossed out in front of him. A small grunt escaped his throat, a clear call for attention. Somewhere beyond his closed eyes, someone or something suddenly blocked the sun from reaching him. He very narrowly opened one eye to see the blur of one of his nameless, faceless men standing before him. His eye closed again and a small smile cracked his lips.
Life for Bartelby was good.
For a few more moments, Bartelby laid there in complete comfort, until a simple pain shot up from the sole of his foot. He reeled in surprise, his legs quickly contorted back underneath his chair and his head shot up. He opened his eyes as much as he could to see who was assaulting him. There was no threat. There was no attacker. There was no one at all, just the nameless, faceless bodyguard. He looked around, trying to see if he was missing a joke, or if someone would apologize (maybe it was an accident).
"W-wut was that fur?" He asked, his voice shaking a bit as he looked up to the man.
The man didnt speak. They seldom did. He simply held out his hand, palm up.
From somewhere behind Bartelby, someone elses voice spoke up. "Its Five O'Clock, Mr. Jove." The normally quiet men let out signs of agreement. Bartelby had been lost in thought, but didnt remember having an appointment. "That officially takes us off the payroll." The voice continued as Bartelby turned around to face the man, "You know, I'm surprised. I figured a man of your delicate... situation, would be more eager to keep his loyal henchmen paid on time."
"Oh," Bartelby was nervous, quickly going on the defensive. "I- I jus' lost track of time guys, I-it wus a mistake." Around him laughter erupted. Bartelby tried to control the situation by repeating himself. "I lost track of time, t-thats it. T-thats it."
His damned voice always shook when he got nervous. He hadnt lost track of time, his men had just decided it was a good time to hit him up for more cash, and apparently they were hitting hard. He was definitely nervous now. "I-i can go g-get your money right now fellas. Its not a bi...."
"You dont have our money?!?," the voice exclaimed, as the others begin jeering and mocking him. One of them cleverly copying his stutter as he did.
The situation is getting out of hand, and quickly. His own men were only as good as long as the money was flowing. Bartelby suggested they just walk over to the house and get their money, but they very simply and colorfully told him that they didnt work for him. "Go get it yourself, you know where to find us.", the man told him.
Bartelby nervous walked out into the street. He could not afford to be alone. Anyone of his competitors could easily take the opportunity to remove him from the picture. The X on his back was bright and shiny.
He slowly starts walking up the street, looking over his shoulder. His hopes that the men would decide to come along dashed as he saw them piling into the eatery. "Fuck" he exclaims as he starts to face forward, but before he can, he runs into someone or something in the middle of the street.
