secret heart, why so mysterious | [semi-open 8) | incomplete ]

[stillnamed]

WHO: Tom Marvolo Riddle, Usopp
WHAT: Discussing his options.
WHERE: MONACERRO TERRITORY. A vaguely classy bar.
WHEN: d160.

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[longnosedliar]

Usopp walked into the bar, a hand slipped easily into his pocket. He had noticed something around him, lately. Now, Usopp was paranoid at the best of times, and was able to imagine the greatest dangers lurking behind the most innocent of trash cans (or at least as innocent as they got, around here) but this time, he was positive. There was somebody following him, and he didn't know who, or... why, even. Usopp was a bland figure to most, a lanky kid who seemed to be permanently stained with grease and paint

[stillnamed]

A gun. A gun would've done little against him, really. He had fast reflexes, but a faster mouth; the gun would've been on the floor of his own volition before the thought to pull the trigger had even passed the young man's mind. Of his own abilities, Tom was overly confident -- not much had changed since his school days.

The boy was sharp, he was convinced of it. He was one of many to come, of which Tom was also convinced. So many young, scared, confused children looking for guidance. And who better to protect them? To help them grow? After all, they were part of the future, just as Tom was. Their destinies were all thoroughly intertwined, in the long run.

"My name is T. Riddle, Mr. Usopp," Tom said with restrained elation. This was the beginning. On his face sat a smile -- it wasn't happy, however. It was greedy.

"I believe I can help you become something great."

[longnosedliar]

As engaged in thought as he was, Usopp jolted when the man next to him spoke. Almost immediately after, he assumed that this was the man following him. What else would explain the fearsome glint in his eye, the humorless smile upon his face? Usopp fought his primal instincts to look as if he was halfway brave, and he turned to face Riddle slowly, his hand fisting around the mug to stop it from shaking.

"H-hello--" damn, a stutter, "--Mr. Riddle."

He paused, releasing the mug immediately. What if it was poisoned? A million what-ifs crossed his mind, but thankfully, his tongue wagged of its own accord. Asking how he knew his name? Stupid. Usopp's name was one given freely. "What are you talking about?" Not much better, but it was, by some.

This was terrifying.

[stillnamed]

Tom brought his own glass to his lips, peering at Usopp over the rim. He watched the boy carefully, registering the fear and the careful cover blankly; that didn't concern him now.

"What do you know of the name Monacello?" asked Tom slowly, fingers curling around his glass, eyes alight with possibility.

[longnosedliar]

As soon as the question left his lips, Usopp's mind buzzed with the possibilities. A Vescovo, venturing dangerously into Monacello territory for information. A corrupt AMC officer driven to the brink of insanity by the families, turning to more physical approaches as opposed to the boundaries set by his officials. A Monacello, trying to find more allies to build the family, who knew of Yasopp, and therefore Usopp.

"It depends," Usopp said, careful not to let his voice squeak (it did anyways, just a bit, "who's asking."

He could have used the drink right about now, but he was becoming increasingly positive that it carried some sort of terrifying virus. Even as his eyes widened in fear, an inkling of hope burst in Usopp's heart, the thought of even the remote possibility that he would return to the family in his father's blood sending excitement rushing through his veins.

[stillnamed]

"I guess you haven't heard about the change of power in the ranks of the Monacello, then," said Tom, his eyes leaving Usopp at once. The implication was clear. He stared straight forward, sipping his water delicately at an almost measured pace. If one were to analyze the scene, Tom's movements would all seem just a little too perfect.

One could go as far as to say almost rehearsed. But in reality, Tom was just a master. He knew what worked and what did not and what would work with this man was to disarm and then dazzle with possibilities. Smart boy, smart tactics.

"Your drink isn't poisoned, friend. I'm simply here to make you an offer," he started, eyes slowly going back to meet Usopp's. Dropping his voice an octave, he continued. "How would you like to help my cause?"

[longnosedliar]

Usopp stared openly at Tom for a moment, watching his every precise movement. As he listened, the contents of the world almost rushing past him so intent he was upon watching the man, he marveled at who must have been one of the higher ranking members of Monacello. Those actions, those eyes, that was the family of Usopp's dreams.

He had heard inklings of the change in power. Usopp heard a lot of things, about everything. When people talked, he listened. He was the sort of guy who could fade into the background, and even if he didn't fade in, nobody assumed he was listening, or that he had anybody important to tell. He was good at waiting, and listening and averting his eyes as if what happened to the Monacello family didn't matter to him.

Usopp met Tom's eyes, but looked away first. Then, meeting them once more, he breathed, "Yes."

These words might damn him. Maybe this was a well thought out trap. But for once, Usopp wasn't afraid, not now--not yet, anyways. Instead he savored the thought of his dreams coming