Snippet #2559412

Letitia - 'Titi' - was certainly perceptive, if nothing else, Valentine noted. Her mention of Old World mythology was fascinating - it was rather unusual for a woman of her status to take such an interest in mere stories. The few upper-class socialites who could be bothered with the Old World in the slightest were more interested in finding out what had happened to the world, to place it in such a grim state.

But this woman - girl? She could hardly be much older than one, whatever her intellect suggested - was something else. There was a kind of idealism to her, a lackadaisical lack of concern for the actual state of the world, in a way; seeing only her dream, not the reality. Not sheltered, nor ignorant - deluded, perhaps, in a way. Knowing all too well the truth, and yet fighting against it for its' own sake.

Perhaps the two of them had that much in common, from a given perspective.

"You're not wrong about that," Valentine nodded to her. Her requests were reasonable - she'd hardly want to get shot, after all. And he could afford whatever she required in that area - for as long as she was of use, naturally. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of her - just how seriously did she take this, and how far was she willing to go? An idealistic child, a mischievous manipulator, or a ruthless revolutionary?

Nevertheless, she'd already caught on to his plan, and so there was little point in postponing things further. And - by all indications - she had some idea of what was coming. Looking to his left, he saw one of the agents moving towards them with purpose - having spotted the two of them, evidently. Likely on orders to identify whom Letitia was negotiating with. Not a problem - he could almost feel the crosshairs levelled on the man's chest as he moved.

"Tell me, 'Titi'," he said, hand going to his concealed earpiece, ready to issue the order -

"Are you ready?"