Night 55: Stairwell by Waiting Room/Lobby 1

[yin_yang_fox]

[from here]No sound came from inside the stairwell, but that amounted to little at times. Still the Digimon stretched her senses, moving quickly and quietly into the dark. None were in this place yet, despite the small crowd in the hall below. It might mean none have moved upstairs, or it might simply mean they were quicker than she

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[predictator]

Even for Izaya, who liked to spread rumors and false information at times, there was a line between business and pleasure-no matter how fine that line may have been. When it came to his business, there was one very simple answer about how 'good' he was.

"If I weren't, I wouldn't still be in business," he stated. "If I were paid for incorrect or even shoddy information, my clients would be terribly upset with me."

As far as Alfred himself went, if he had been hoping to deflect Izaya's interest in him by calling himself 'a regular guy', he would be disappointed. On the contrary, for Izaya, who was interested in every aspect of humanity that made up the 'average', downplaying any sliver of importance only made him more interested. One thing that Izaya could appreciate about Landel's Institute was the opportunity to observe people from several different countries in a setting other than Tokyo.

"You do look the part," he said in answer to Alfred's question. "So what is it you do in Virginia? I've been trying to determine if there are any common factors among those here, and one of the potential similarities lies in profession."

In truth, he had only decided to start looking for similarities just now, but Alfred didn't need to know that part.

[brb_burgers]

"You got clients in this place?" There was business to be had everywhere. He couldn't complain, he was all about commerce. Capitalism thrived on it and he would be a staunch advocate of it wherever it was. Opportunity for the common man was right up his alley. All of the feel-good, identifying with another guy from another place sort of fell to the wayside when he was asked what his profession in Virginia was.

Not that it really had any bearing on who Izaya was as a person but he sort of wanted his story to add up with the other America that had been here so as to not provide a suspicious conflict. This guy was an information specialist-- he'd be bound to find out about the suspicion that Cana-- Matt and Kiku and Arthur had had. Oh, and Ivan. That bastard.

"I fly, for a living. Commercial flights," it had been a common trend in his alias-making. It wasn't patently untrue, either. If it didn't mesh with the previous America's story he'd tweak it somehow. Hopefully in an inconspicuous way. "Maybe not so regular after all but I don't like the attention I get when I say I'm a pilot! Haha..." which was patently untrue, he loved attention. But maybe this Izaya wouldn't give it to him. "Where you headed anyway? Meeting up with friends? I'm in the market to make friends, I'd like that. Sort of a you help me I'll help you thing. I haven't got much to offer just yet but I'm pretty sure I'll come up with something you'd like one day..."

[predictator]

"I've done some trading, yes," was Izaya's answer in regards to his business. He didn't have regular clients yet, but that would come in due time. He was still setting up shop, so to speak, so what he was able to offer was unfortunately little at the present time.

He whistled as they continued up the stairs. "A pilot? Very nice." That meant Alfred would be the first one to see if anyone stumbled across an airplane (as unlikely as the possibility was).

They'd reached the top of the stairs, and Izaya stepped aside to let Alfred into the hallway as he contemplated where to go from here.

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