Mutually Beneficial

Djinn walked into the office - that which belonged to owner of the house, of course. Azazel Sicarius, head of perhaps the most widely spread and quickly growing crime conglomerate in Europe.

He hadn't been invited. Even in disgrace, the demon was not one to adhere to human etiquette. Instead, he appeared in the hallway just outside the doors to the office, a box tucked under one arm. Then, he promptly barged in, crossed the rug separating the doors from the desk and tossed the box atop of it.

"A gift, to show my... good intentions," Djinn drawled. "Rival of yours, wasn't he?"

He tucked his hands casually into his pockets, lips turning up smugly. His eyes gleamed nearly as well as they did when they were red instead of brown. "It's a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance, of course. I've long been a fan of your work. You may call me Druitt. I have come to offer my services."

Azazel woke up from his thoughts, the walls were speaking. Something was not as it should. And right he were. Because in came someone, whos apperance was unknown to this godfather. ''May I-'' He stopped himself and as the stranger spoke and a smirk played on his lips as he looked in the box.

''Ah yes he were. How very.. Kind of you.'' He watched the man with slight curiousity.

''A fan of my work. Though I am pretty sure that you are not here to ask for my autograph.'' Azazel chuckled and continued. ''Offer your services, and how may you help me and my Mafia, Druitt?''

Djinn quirked a brow at the man, smirk firmly in place. "I just walked into your stronghold without hindrance, with neither wand nor physical force," he pointed out. "I brought with me the head of a man whose headquarters were equally fortified. I think you know just what help I might lend you and your Mafia, Mr. Sicarius."

He shook his head with a smirk. ''Ah yes, but what is the fun with living safe Mr. Druitt?'' Azazel asked.

''Since you're mentioning it the mafia do need an Assassin, and you seem to work. Bringing me a head of an enemy and having the guts to enter the mafia manison. I like that in a man. Not too easy to find that these days. Now, apart from all this. Why should I hire you? What more than killing is your good qualities?''

"Well, Azazel - good name. Reminds me of someone I know - there is no where I cannot go," Djinn replied, tone matter-of-fact. "And I know things. So very many things. I'd say I have more knowledge than anyone else you have ever encountered, but... that wouldn't be very modest, now, would it?

"Here's the offer, Azazel Jaro Sicarius: I will gladly take any and all of your more impossible cases, and you will pay me handsomely for it," Djinn informed him. "Otherwise... well, you're hardly the only one in need of someone unstoppable. This is your only offer."

Seemingly from the shadows in the room emerged a large canine with a dark, brindled coat. At first glance, one might have mistaken it for a pitbull, but it was far larger than a pitbull, its form and the way it held itself meaner. The body was that of a presa canario, but not even a member of that breed was a match for the hellhound within.

"Drust," the demon addressed the hound directly, lip curling from his teeth in displeasure, "dúradh liom tú a bheith taobh thiar de. Bheith ina suí. Beidh tú féin a iompar." Drust gazed back in challenge a long moment before looking away, seating himself at his master's side.

Djinn turned his attention back to the mafia leader. "I apologize. He doesn't always listen." He didn't sound especially sorry. "The decision is yours, Mr. Sicarious. You may either accept my services, or I shall take them elsewhere. I've little need to bargain with you."



*Note: Djinn is speaking a very ancient Celtic. For lack of a translation for that, I used Irish, instead.


Drust

Azazel looked at the man straight on- no sign of malice or friendliness, just a knowing gaze. He leaned back in his chair and let out a dry laugh. It was simple and pure, a sound someone of his disgusting nature shouldn't be able to create.

"Usually, I'd be calling off the guards by now," he stated, "But, you've killed them all, haven't you? That's wonderful." He closed his eyes and placed a hand on the bridge of his nose, "Truly wonderful.

"If you continue doing things like this," The mafia leader rustled the 'present' the man had left for him, "I'll be happy to pay you whatever you require. Money? Drugs? Women?" He paused to chuckle, "Men?"

The man leaned forward again, his sharp eyes never leaving the dog. He could probably kill it from here if he tried, but Druitt's help was too valuable to pass up. This was a time of war- he's sell his children if need be. Even so, he'd be keeping a close eye on the creature and his owner for the time they spent together. Trust was not easily earned here.

"Or, something else? I'm quite aware that other creatures such as yourself like to have other forms of payment."

Djinn smirked. "Quite the contrary," he replied. "Your... guards didn't even see me. Wasn't worth my time to stop and say hello." The demon moved forward and the hellhound moved with him, somehow managing to appear perfectly in sync with its master despite the two extra legs. It returned the human's gaze, dark eyes full of an unmistakable hunger for bloodshed.

A smile spread across Djinn's face; a genuine smile that succeeded in being far more chilling than his customary sneer.

"You wouldn't be able to give me the other form of payment I would ask for," he taunted, gaze malevolent. "Money will prove sufficient, Mr. Sicarius. Money, and the pleasure of causing horrific suffering."