deiter-neumann-blog

[deiter-neumann-blog]

casspage‌:

She watched as he stuttered, not quite able to process what she had just revealed; Cass knew the feeling. “If you’re in, you’re in,” Cass spoke, reinforcing what he had to already be thinking. Syndicate members were fish on a hook, and every day they were reeled in a bit more until they were at the complete mercy of its iron fist. “Marco King decided to pick me up from school that day,” she answered, beginning to put the pieces together for him. “It was planned, Deiter, it wasn’t a freak thing. They got rid of my driver, they sat in that car, and they waited for me to open to the door.” That was where everything started to get fuzzy, but Cassidy would never forget the sick smile that spread over Marco’s lips when he saw the terror dawn on her features. “Sera was supposed to be a mail order bride.” Cass shifted on her feet, deciding to leave it at that - Sera’s story was her own to tell when and if she saw fit.

The question could have been a slap in the face, but Cass knew that he was only thinking of their safety. She had thought the same thing, which was why she had told him not to tell anybody he had seen her when they first saw each other again months ago on the street. “No. And we have to keep it that way,” Cassidy said slowly, her eyes locked on his face even if he could not meet her gaze at the moment. “You can’t tell anybody, Deiter. Don’t give them any reason to dig. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Not to mention what might happen to her if the Syndicate discovered their connection.

If you’re in, you’re in. He was not technically in, though. He was an associate, and knew little to nothing about the internal ongoings of the Syndicate. Hell, he was only learning about this now, after all. He had committed no major crimes, yet. There was a feeling in him, deep down, that things were going to ramp up for him somehow. Whether he grew deeper in, or found his way to get out.

Hearing her story made him feel like he was going to be physically sick. He had not spent all that much time in the presence of Marco King, but he knew enough to say that he was not the man’s biggest fan. And as she spoke, he could feel that feeling turning into a hatred he never saw coming. “But she wasn’t involved with it? Not directly at least?” More questions he did not want answered. Sera was probably one of the people in the Syndicate he trusted the most, and if she was involved with Cass’s kidnapping…

“Hell no, I’m not telling anyone,” he replied firmly, knowing pretty well what the consequences would be. As much as it killed him to say, it was true in all senses of the statement. He wanted nothing more than to call NYPD and tell them she was alive. However, he knew better, knew that it would never end well for either of them if it did. “I’m not worried about me, Cassie. I could never do anything that would directly get you hurt. I like to think I know who we’re dealing with here.”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

farrenbeauchene‌:

Farren wouldn’t deny that the feeling of his hand on her exposed skin made her warm to the touch, but as she leaned back to get dressed, her eyes squinted at him in confusion. She really did not remember what had happened the night before, a brief moment of passion flashing before her eyes as she attempted to regain her memories — ultimately, alcohol was a fickle bitch, and would not allow her to have any control over what she remembered and what she didn’t. Not yet, anyway. The memories tended to come back to the woman a few days later, making her angry for ending up in Deiter’s bed once again. It was a vicious cycle, but one that Farren was secretly addicted too — not that she would ever admit that to him.

“I think we went at it so vigorously that you banged your head on the headboard. That or I smacked you upside that big noggin. Can’t remember.” She shrugged and looked at him, ruffling his hair in typical Farren fashion before getting up out of the bed once again.

Ever since moving back to Montreal, Deiter had let parts of his previously carefully crafted life have some spontaneity. He realized the fun that came with spur of the moment decisions that he might regret later, having always been so scared of them as a kid. And Farren and their nights together definitely fell into that category. As long as nothing changed between them, and they could just continue to have their mostly drunken fun, he saw no reason to regret the choice. Unless of course, someone on the wrong side were to find out, but that was not something he wanted to think about that early on a Sunday morning. Or ever really, for that matter.

Scowling playfully as she ruffled his hair, he shrugged and pushed himself completely upright, trying to ignore the ever growing pounding in his head. “You know, I would not be shocked if both happened. Knowing you.”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

emiliaking‌:

She hadn’t really taken the time to consider the consequences of the accident, the events at the hospital sitting at the forefront of Emilia’s mind. The day after the gala, things had changed for her. Staying at the penthouse, the occasional drop in from her mother’s business associates- which she knew served as more of a check in than a friendly visit. Was that going to become the norm now? Eyes constantly on Emilia no matter what she did, distance becoming a rarity. Maybe… at least in this case, it was with someone she didn’t mind being around. Even enjoyed. Leave it to her mother to somehow know the best course of action.

“You know, that would probably be an easier thing if I was shorter.” A small laugh left her lips before settling into the car. No matter how many times the nurses around her had told her to rest and not worry, that was an impossibility. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion continued to sit on her shoulders, heavy and taxing. The accident had opened to possibilities in her mind. Possibilities where the people she loved could get hurt, situations growing out of her control with every new day. It did little to quell any nerves circulating through her body. Not knowing what the future could hold, the unpredictable… it didn’t sit well with her.

The ghost of a smile crossed her features, Emilia doing her best to try and stuff whatever feelings were creeping up on her away. This was stupid- letting fear set its roots in her head when it came to something as simple as driving around. Pull it together. Fingers tapped against her lap, eyes falling on Deiter as she shook her head. “No- It’s fine, I’m just… We can go…Can we talk about something else? Anything.” 

He could tell that life had changed distinctly in the past year, they had that much in common. Emilia had established her own life here, as far as he could tell, and he could not imagine the strange feeling of so many familiar faces converged on the city that it was built in. Hell, even Deiter was having his own battles with his childhood and the Syndicate colliding in Montreal. At least for him, his past was merely a ghost here, and the people he knew from New York were now forging a new path for him. Something he had chosen, and he was sure Emilia had not chosen for herself.

Laughing softly, he nodded playfully. “Yeah, I can’t say that would be a comfortable position for anyone over five feet tall,” he mused, knowing full well there was no way either of them would ever be able to hide that way. This was he was good at, keeping the conversation light and fun in order to avoid any discussion of a deeper topic. He could thank his mother for that skill, and it was probably the only thing he would ever thank her for, aside from getting him away from the situation of his childhood.

Nodding as she responded, he started the car and began making his way away from the hospital. “Alright then, what do you want to talk about?” he replied, “School? The weather?” Turning for a second to shoot her a grin, he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. He was always a cautious driver, but her nerves getting into the car made him concentrate even harder, to male sure nothing would spook her. “As long as it’s not my opinion on celebrities or politics, we can talk about anything.”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

serakaran‌:

Gratitude hardly surmised what she felt for Deiter, his instinct not to question her relationship with Emilia more than a little appreciated considering how thoroughly it threatened to consume the brunette in a moment such as this one. Her concern extended towards so few beyond the pair entering her apartment now, but Emilia would always exist to be one of the most paramount. “Tipped them off how?” She questioned, closing the door behind them. “You mean about our movements with Milena? That would be unwise on their part.” Though that would hardly stop someone with shaky loyalty from doing so, except Sera could hardly pinpoint a figure amongst their ranks who held enough ire or stupidity to play for both teams. “You’re my eyes and ears… Anyone on your list who might have reason to flip?”

“Well, yeah. Maybe someone’s looking to jump ship and thought it would look good to slip intel like that. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time. And maybe they thought they would be granted protection in exchange,” he replied, his shoulders rising into a small shrug. Maybe he had just seen too many spy movies, or maybe it was because he was on the outside just enough to be able to look past biases and prior knowledge of people. “Personally, I can’t think of anyone that’s been acting off at the moment. And I can’t see anyone wanting to jump ship or get in good with them.” It was the truth, no matter how frustrating it might be. But he was a journalist, and a damn good one, and he had the skills that might just give something, or someone, up. “Give me a little time, and I can see what I can dig up.”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

nicpclltier‌:

“Strange?” She’d consider it for a slow moment, shoving everything back into her pockets and peeking around the corner into the street, “Not in a while, but hell, I could be fucking boring. You’d be back there with your buddies looking as if you’d rather watch grass grow.” And she certainly wasn’t one to openly apologize for anything at all. Even as she watched him massage his wrist. It was true, he didn’t know who she was, whether that was a trying win for him or for her, she could live with it. “C’mon bright eyes, you don’t gotta’ know who I am to out me to some bull headed cop asking for a description.” Which, certainly wouldn’t have been her first time caught either way. “You gonna’ stand here in the alley all night then?”

Deiter could not help but let out an amused laugh, knowing full well that she was completely right. “Very observant of you, even while running. That’s impressive. Plus, that was much more fun than talking about the trajectory of the stock market.” He actually loved moments like this, random things that happen when you least expect them were something that came so rarely in his adult like, so he was not going to complain. “Any description I could give of you would fit thousands of other woman in this city, so I think you’d be safe then.” A lie, as Deiter usually had be knack for describing people with enough detail, but he was not about to bring that fact up around her. “Nah, I’ve gotta get home. I’ve got a hot date with takeout and my couch.”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

casspage‌:

His entire body tensed in an instant, and Cassidy felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Deiter had always been smart, nobody ever had to spell anything out for him. That was what made him a good friend and, she imagined, a good journalist. She had never said as much out loud, but Cass admired him even during their teenage years when there were few people she even liked at all. And now the look on his face as the reality of her situation settled in his mind nearly broke her heart. 

But only nearly. Because he was one of them. The name of the very organization that had turned her entire life upside down fell from his lips with ease - it was clearly the first thing that came to mind when she pushed just a bit further. The man in front of her was the only person in the entire city who truly knew the person she was before, flaws and all, but now he was also connected to the after. “They took me.” There was no other way to say it. There was no sugar-coating it. The people with whom Deiter decided to do business were the very same who had taken Cassidy Page from her family. Cass took a step forward, unable to tear her glance from his face. “Say it,” she repeated quietly, the desperation in her voice unmistakable as she tried to control her own emotions. “Tell me that you’re one of them. Tell me that you work for the people who made me disappear.”

“I- I’m not in deep, but fuck. Fucking fuck,” he managed out. No matter how he worded it, no matter how little he was involved, he was involved, making him feel like he had been betraying her from the day he agreed to work with Sera. All for the advancement of his career. That had been his only priority back then, and up until recently even. Moving home had shifted his perspective, even if he had not realized it fully. The old connections and the new were merging into a life in limbo for him, balancing where he was and where he was headed as a person.

Taking a deep breath, he finally managed to meet her eyes again, if only for a fleeting moment, “Who was it? And how was Sera involved?” More questions he did not really want the answers to, but knew he needed them. He had been naive to turn a blind eye to that part of the Syndicate, to think he was not involved because he had never dealt with it directly. And now, standing in front of him, Cass was living proof of his stupidity. “Does anyone else know that we know each other?” It may have sounded indelicate at that moment, but they needed all cards on the table now. To protect both of them from what might happen should the wrong person know the wrong thing. He already felt like he failed her once, he was not about to do that again.

[deiter-neumann-blog]

farrenbeauchene‌:

For two people who could not be more different, Farren and Deiter had gotten quite intimate in a short amount of time. They knew parts of each other’s bodies like a map they would never forget, even during their most drunken nights when standing upright was damn near impossible — and yet, Farren kept coming back for more. Albeit mostly incoherent interactions, the woman continued to find herself wrapped up in his arms and his sheets, sleeping deeply before the world looked upon them with a frown.

So, when the lanky woman turned to face her maker, she scrunched up her face at the same time she began putting her bottoms back on. “Depends. Does you eating my whole ass count as breakfast? In which case, I’m in.” She quipped, her snarky attitude being on full display in the same way her bare skin was. Without much thought, the woman crawled partially onto the bed, leaning well over her counterpart in order to grab the bra which was sitting on his bedside table. What an odd place for that to end up, the woman thought to herself as she put it back on.

“Did I come to you last night or did you come to me?” Farren pondered, stretching her arms as she turned to look at Deiter, a man who — thought she would never admit it — was equally as good looking in the daytime as he was in the dark of the night.

Deiter could honestly say he did not understand their arrangement at all, if one could call it that. Normally, he would not see the same person nearly as many times as they had found their way to each other without an idea that it would lead to something beyond the physical. Farren, however, had become an exception to an otherwise adhered to rule. It seemed to work for them, at least for the time being, and he did not see a reason to put any sort of stop to it any time soon.

Watching her with an amused smile on his face, he let out a chuckle at her remark. “I mean, if that’s something you’re into, to each their own,” he quipped back, a hand raising to graze the exposed skin of her side as she leaned over him. Her attitude had been what drew him to her in the first place, amused by the snarkiness. If not for her connections and the nature of their encounters, he might have looked at her as a potential friend or ally. But he knew better, knowing that this was probably the best scenario for anything between the two of them, and it worked.

“I think, and I could be wrong, that you called me,” he said lazily, rubbing his face as he tried to wake up fully. Shaking his head to attempt the same end, he let out a laugh. “Either I had a good night before, or we had a lot of fun, because fuck my head hurts.”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

channingmcrx‌:

“I could say the same thing”, the words fell from her lips with little to no regard of holding back. Channing stepped forward, dropping the hood back to its place between her shoulders. She had hid in the darkness as her alter ego for so long, had gotten so used to being two different people so situations such as this never happened. So the people she spent her time with were never the wiser, so no one knew the blood that she dipped her fingers into willingly. Deiter was only ever supposed to know her as the flower shop owner, the girl who had no shame in flirting with him as she tucked a little white flower behind his ear. Not this. Part of her almost ached at the idea of him knowing, Channing had found enjoyment in his belief that she was truly as good as the act she put on. Suddenly self conscious, Channing’s fingers reached up to brush at the dried blood on her cheek. But the damage was done, vile acts that she was known for had a face for Deiter and it was hers.

Channing swallowed, gaze remaining glued to his as the quiet of the night threatened to swallow them whole. There were so many questions to be answered on both sides, she was sure, but picking the right ones to ask right now was a task on its own. Her lips parted and closed, the process repeating herself as she reflected back on his kind words and glances. “What are you doing here?”, she finally asked, though it was meant to be deeper. What was he doing here, on this roof top, meeting her after she killed a man? Why did he want her to kill a man? Her fingers moved to grasp the knife concealed in the band of her pants, her mind going to a darker place. Maybe his kind eyes were just a trick, the same way her flowers had been. And Channing was the fool who fell for it. 

Deiter’s mind was reeling, trying to make sense of everything that was attempting to be understood. There was no way that the beautiful woman who had helped him buy flowers was the person he had been sent to settle with. The two entities in his mind were so different, there was no reason for him to suspect they could ever have been the same person. Though he had only been an associate for a few years, he probably should have known better than to assume that the people he would be dealing with were alike. Hell, no one would have ever thought that he was involved, and he obviously could not be the only person to have something hidden in their closet. There was a strange pull that came through once the realization began to settle, now more curious than ever about the woman in front of him. How could one person have lives so extremely different?

Looking at her, he realized she might think he was more involved than he was, someone higher up that would typically be the one ordering jobs to be done. “I’m merely the middle man here, a broker, if you will,” he attempted to clarify, “I was told when to meet and where, and not given any more information than that.” There were so many questions he wanted to ask her in return, but he knew better than to try to mix business and his personal life in a moment like this despite how much he wanted to. He wanted to know the story of how a florist got caught up with the Syndicate enough to do their bidding, in a much darker sense than his own roll. Slowly raising his hand to his chest, eyes trained on her the whole time, he pulled out the bundle that sat in his pocket. “I was instructed to give you this.”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

julianpistris‌:

The Dandy Pig was a place of refuge, in all its disgusting glory, for the Vittori. It wasn’t explicitly obvious that outsiders weren’t welcome, but this pretty bastard next to him was proof of it. Holding his whiskey glass in his hand, Julian’s eyes rolled at the other man’s comment. “Sorry come again?” What Julian loved, above all, was chaos. It could come in any form, a gunfight, sex, two fists colliding with a face… no matter what it was, Julian rarely shied away from it. Hence why he’d volunteered to do a suicide mission against the King’s precious daughter or perpetrating one North America’s most nefarious drug trades. From what he could tell, this idiot had no idea who he was walking to. If only if only…

Letting out a dramatic side, he folded his arms on the bar and turned his gaze to his counterpart. He hadn’t seen him before, meaning that the man was probably insignificant to any business Julian had. Though who was he to turn down some excitement. “Best I’ve got is turning to the illegal, but frankly I don’t feel like making the staff here clean up another body. It’s bad manners.” 

The only thing Deiter wanted to do in that moment was get the hell out of there, and never set foot in the place again. To get back into the part of the city that he felt more comfortable in and where the company was at least a bit more civilized than the man in front of him, as well as most of the people in the bar. “You heard me,” was all he cared to say as he started to put on his jacket. He cursed himself for not being able to just keep his mouth shut and just walk away from the situation, but his pride just had to sneak in there and ruin a perfectly good exit.

Deiter usually prided himself on handling himself better in situations like this. If he had been on the clock officially, he knew the switch would have dropped and been able to keep his cool. Instead, he let out a laugh at the man’s ridiculous statement. “Cute,” he retorted, fixing the sleeve to sit better on his arm, “And you wouldn’t want to do that to your friends here, would you? Can’t have bad manners, can we?”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

emiliaking‌:

The finality of death was beginning to hit her, like a wave crashing upon the shore. There would be no more family dinners- not ones that were whole, at least. The graduation ticket Emilia had been so excited to secure for her mother would leave an empty seat, the penthouse all but abanded by a woman who’d called it home. A constant piece missing, from this very day until Emilia’s last. It hurt- having no real goodbye, no closure, no peace. For all she knew, someone out there was stained with her mother’s blood, their hand pulling that fateful trigger that decimated Emilia’s biggest sense of safety. With one shot, Milena King was gone. All that remained of her was the shadow she cast on her daughter, the gates of hell finally opening and swallowing her whole.

She wasn’t sure what to do next, the thoughts of funeral planning or even gathering her mother’s things started to feel like a monumental task. The moment she’d been grabbed by Alex, everyone began treating her like she was a powderkeg ready to explode. So far, Emilia had kept it together, shock numbing her from it all. But now with the silence of the hospital falling still and the too bright fluorescent lighting feeling invasive, her vision started to get blurry. Fuck. Emilia’s eyes closed, letting herself sink into Deiter while she listened to him talk. His arrival was unexpected, something she’d never pictured happening. Yet the second he’d fallen into the chair beside her, a strange calmness was ushered in. Soft, careful, warm. A stark contrast to the world around her. “Deiter… thank you.” The words left her lips a whisper. Maybe people were still kind? This certainly felt like it… At the mention that everyone else was okay, a small weight was lifted off her shoulders. Emilia wouldn’t lose anyone else, she wouldn’t let it happen. “She’s really gone, isn’t she?” 

While Deiter could not understand what it was like for a parent to die, he did know what it was like to no longer have one in his life. Even though he hated the man and what he put his siblings and him through, there was still a void left in his life. A dull ache that surfaced every time someone asked him about his father, knowing that he was going to have to try and explain the darkest part of his life, something similar to what he was sure Emilia was going to feel for the rest of her life. It was not something he would wish on anyone, not even those he considered to be his enemies, let alone one of the kindest people he had come to meet. If there was something he could do to help someone in a similar place, he would do it. Who the hell was this man he was becoming?

“Anytime, Emilia. I mean it,” he replied, squeezing her shoulders just a bit tighter as he spoke. Hearing the word s that come next, the dreaded question that he knew was bound to come, his heart dropped into his stomach. Looking down at her, she looked strangely small, reminding him just how young she actually was. In that moment, he wished he was a higher rank in the Syndicate, so he could know for a fact that no one else had gotten hurt, and that he could be someone they turned to in order to get revenge. There would be very few trusted to do that, and he knew that he was not among them. “I’m so sorry,” was all he was able to say to her, knowing that he was nowhere near the first or the last to say those words to her.

[deiter-neumann-blog]

If Deiter had thought he had been concerned for the woman in front of him before, now he was passed that. The look in her eyes, the force with which her words were coming out, he had never seen the likes of from her before. He stared at her as she continued, not sure what was bringing this on. It was odd that she would bring up Sera, especially if she had only seen them together the once. There was some meaning behind her words that he just could not figure out, much to his frustration.

“I told you, she’s a friend. We happened to both be in the park when…” he trailed off, his eyes widening as what Cass said to him truly sunk in. I met Sera when I was fifteen. The insinuation of that statement suddenly very clear, and everything about Cass’s story started to actually make sense to him. He felt a flash of rage flood through him, causing his fists to clench tightly. He had heard about the girls, but he had never met or seen any of them personally. It was easy to ignore when it did not involve him. But if she had met Sera around the time she went missing from New York… “Cass,” he finally managed out, barely able to keep his voice even with the emotion now surging through him, “Does the Ivory Syndicate have something to do with how you disappeared?”

deiter-neumann‌:

Deiter tried the best he could to not draw parallels in his mind between the Cass he knew and the Cass he was around now. It was not fair to her to old her to the standards she had set all those years ago, when it was clear just how different her life was now. But her behavior sometimes still jarred him with how similar it could be, yet still be so different from how he remembered.

Keeping his eyes trained on her, even as he closed the door, her question completely caught him off guard. How could she possibly have known that he knew Sera? He could not remember a time they had been together anywhere that Cass would have been in the same vicinity, to his knowledge. “Sera? She’s a friend. A met her a while back in New York, and we reconnected recently. Why do you ask?” That question was something he both did and did not want the answer to.

He was surprised. He was confused. Hell, Cass would have been too if she were in his shoes. Ever since the world threw them back into each other’s lives, Cassidy had kept Deiter at a distance. She had plowed through conversations with him just to make it to the other side without having a full-on panic attack. She avoided him at all costs so that she wouldn’t have to have another one of through anxiety inducing conversations. But with everything going on around them, with the world spiraling out of control, it all had to come to an end.

I met her a while back in New York. Cass assumed that was after Zephyr had picked Sera up out of the gutter because while she may have missed a dozen or so years of Deiter’s life, she didn’t peg him for a brothel visitor. Then again, she would have never begged him for a Syndicate associate either. “So did I,” she returned slowly, resisting the urge to place a poignant pause in the conversation. “I met Sera when I was fifteen.” Cassidy’s hands found her hips and she tried to give off an air of strength, but the facade was beginning to crack as her adrenaline dipped. “I saw you two in the park. When everyone was running. When Milena King was killed. Deiter–” She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again and refocused on him. “Deiter, I need you to tell me– I need you say it–”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

channingmcrx‌:

Channing let an amused laugh out, shrugging her shoulder carelessly. “I guess you could say that. Though, I’d like to say I know flowers better than I know people. Flowers are much easier,”, she confessed with a rare moment of honesty laced within the facade she wore in the day to day. People were complex and difficult, sometimes predictable and sometimes impossible to read. People, by definition, were puzzles meant to be solved. But that came with emotions and heartbreak. Even now, trying to read the smile that played on Deiter’s lips sent conflicting emotions and assumptions through the blonde. “Well where is the fun in guessing? I’m a girl who likes to know”, she tossed over her shoulder, turning to hide the wide smile daring to pull at her lips. “Safe? That would definitely be something along the lines of daisies or tulips”, Channing confessed as her steps carried her over to the flowers that seemed to illuminate a nook of her shop in bright colors. “I’m personally a fan of tulips in that category, but if you want my opinion I’d say do something along the lines of sunflowers. Every girl wants to be given a sunflower once in their life, even if its for a birthday”, she mused with a grin, gentle finger tips caressing the bright yellow petals. 

“Does that mean you like flowers more than people?” It was meant to be a joke, but he could see how someone could say yes. Flowers held a mysterious yet reliable beauty to them, something he had heard his mother talk about before things between them went south. Tilting his head, he laughed softly as he looked at her, “I take it you’re not one for guessing games, eh? That’s a shame, they’re a specialty for mine.” Finally looking away from her as they were speaking, he followed behind her as he looked around at the colorful array around them, feeling silly not knowing what half of them were called. “So tulips wouldn’t have any hidden meanings that would embarrass me, do they? I mean, I’ve heard that every flower has a different meaning, especially roses? Or is that just something girls have made up to make fun of me?” he asked sheepishly, as he looked back at her. Wrinkling his nose slightly, he almost scoffed. “What’s so special about sunflowers? I mean, they’re nice and all, but what makes people want them?” he asked, his eyes watching as her fingers found their way to the petals she was indicating. “Have you ever gotten sunflowers, or are you still waiting for that moment?”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

Sunday mornings were the one time a week Deiter let himself sleep in. Weekdays required early rising to get anything done he wanted before work, and Saturdays were to finish what he did not get done. Sometimes, he had to take care of certain business in those early hours as well, before most people woke up. Sundays, however, were meant for staying in bed until the hunger pangs became too much. This Sunday morning found him waking a bit earlier than normal, feeling the movement in the bed he had to himself most of the time.

He did not even need to open his eyes to figure out who was getting out of his bed, something the pounding in his head was grateful for. Since moving back to Montreal, very few woman had caught his attention enough to actually bring them home, and for some reason Farren Beauchene was one of them. It was an interesting situation for him, knowing that the two were headed for anything but a relationship, but the affair seemingly was continuing, no matter what sober words might have exchanged between them. And for now, he was seemingly okay with that.

Feeling her hand far too close to his face, he willed everything in his body not to move. He always liked to keep his timing just right, and let her think she was going to get away without him noticing. As soon as he felt she had her back turned, he sat up, propping himself against the headboard as the blanket slipped from his chest. Waiting for her to turn around, he could not help but grin. This was all too familiar of a morning, and he could not help but be amused each time they went through it.

“You weren’t really going to leave before I could offer you breakfast, were you?” he teased as she turned around to meet his gaze, never one to turn down the opportunity for an ill timed joke.

[ starter for @deiter-neumann ]

My head is killing me. Am I naked? Who’s bed am I in? God, my head hurts. I shouldn’t drink again. Seriously, where am I? Okay, we’re opening our eyes. We’re biting the bullet. One, two—

The light poured in almost as soon as Farren had opened her eyes. She squinted, dark brown hues almost instinctively retracting as soon as the morning indication touched them. Everything hurt; her head, her body, her mouth. Another night of successful alcoholism was in the books and, unfortunately, she had ended up in a bed that wasn’t her own by the end of the night. Her shoulders tightened at the idea of turning over to see who she had been with but, she was biting the bullet, and so the woman looked over her shoulder cautiously to see an all too familiar face.

Deiter Neumann.

It took almost everything in her to not let out an audible sigh. It wasn’t as though this happened before, that wasn’t the problem — the problem was that it had, time and time again. The two had been sleeping together for the better chunk of a few months, the unsolicited affair having started when Farren had dipped her toes in just a bit too far with the Ivory Syndicate. She had done business on the side, not that anybody really knew, but it was obvious to Deiter as the two had met under less than ideal circumstances. And now, in the wake of an early Sunday morning, Farren found herself underneath his blankets once again.

Waving her hand in front of his face, the woman was able to tell that he was deeply asleep — or at least he was making it look like he was. She pushed the blankets back carefully and crawled out of the creaky bed, gathering up her clothes almost as quickly as the man had taken them off the night before. But as she padded around, trying to be soft on her worn feet, the woman heard the body behind her moving and she froze. Please don’t be awake, please let this go smoothly. Her eyes moved slowly from their spot on the floor to the bed she had just come from and, alas, the man was staring back at her — a shit eating grin on his face.

“Do not say a word.” Farren murmured, putting her hand out in a gesture to emphasize the fact that she wanted to hear absolutely nothing from him.

[deiter-neumann-blog]

dxncingonglass‌:

A laugh and a subtle smile, shrugging the comment off quickly, though talk of his name did interest her, it was one of those little things that Harlow loved, where peoples names were from, their different meanings, the story behind a name. “Well, it’s certainly different.” She admitted with a nod, taking a sip of her drink while he spoke again, the mention of New York pricking her ears, from what little she had learnt since returning and being in Montreal it seemed connections were everywhere, and they set off more alarms bells in her head. Harlow raised a brow, their story so similar, before speaking herself, “Originally New York myself actually, I was meant to attend college here and join Les Grands Ballets, but life got a little crazy and I ended up with the Bolshoi and living in Moscow mostly, though I got to explore a lot of Europe and that side of the world before coming back here.”

“You could probably say that about my entire upbringing. Until college, when I forced it to be as normal as possible,” he said with a laugh, never being shy about the fact that is life had been rather unconventional until then. He spared details occasionally, but never shied away if someone asked. “What part of the city? Maybe we’ve crossed paths before,” he asked casually, draining the rest of his drink. It was a small chance, but it was a tool to stoke the conversation, making a connection between them. All part of the formula he had perfected reserved for meeting new people. Hearing her story, he quirked his brow in surprise, “Bolshoi? Now that’s impressive. What brought you back here? I’ve heard Moscow is a beautiful city, though I’ve never been able to go myself.”

[deiter-neumann-blog]

Tribeca Filme Festival Portraits

[deiter-neumann-blog]

Deiter was not sure what he was even doing there. Ever since Milena was killed, he had questioned his place within the Syndicate. Up until now, he had been a mere errand boy, feeling her and Sera information they asked for, and perhaps a little more when the intel was too good to withhold. It was never a question of who’s side he would prefer to be on, having already built a dislike of the Vittori’s not only from what he had been told about them, but also what he had found out they had done. The question more so for him was simple: Am I stationary or am I going to move up? And was trying to move up something he really wanted to do with his life, with everything that would put on the line. Saying yes to a few more jobs was how he was going to figure himself out.

It was new to him, the lurking in the shadows waiting to meet with someone. Someone he did not even have a name for. They were each just given a location and a time to meet, like something from the crime movies he had loved as a child. Trying to keep an eye on the time was getting harder as it grew darker, not wanting to give away his position to anyone with a sudden flash of light. As nervous as he felt inside, he could not ignore the thrill that came with this assignment, realization dawning on him that this was one of the reasons people did what he was doing. Each step toward the agreed spot only heightened the excitement, before his eyes landed on the person in questioning, widening slightly as recognition hit him. Squaring his shoulders, he made sure that none of the nerves inside read on his exterior. “You were definitely not who I was expecting.”

among the rooftops w/ @deiter-neumann

The job came like they all do. Just a faceless demand for information and request for silence. It was always silence that was the stipulation for those of weak stomach and strong heart. True silence and peace of mind was something that was only possible through death, at least as Channing was taught. As long as air passed through their lips, so could words. Death had never been something that she shied away from, it was simply part of the job. A job that she had become quite skilled at over the years. This task appeared just as any other did, nothing more than a get in and get out with what I want type of situation. As the blonde tucked back into the shadows, the blood that stained her cheek lost into the shadow of her hood as Channing ventured away from the business building and to the agreed rendezvous point.

The night was beautiful, in a wicked sort of way, as the full moon hovered so low in the sky that the rooftop was bathed in its glow. Still, the fixer hung in the shadows awaiting the temporary business partner to show their face.   The part of the deal that always assured her safety and her secrecy, it was always easier to kill prey from the shadows. Whether or not this person would be another prey tonight was yet to be determined. At least, it was until the door cracked and her eyes turned to the face emerging into the suddenly now eerie glow of the moon. Channing was left stunned as the charming smile and handsome eyes she had enjoyed partaking in during their brief exchanges stood in anticipation of her arrival. How could it be? He was too innocent, too kind for a deal of this nature. Or, was he like her, merely a vapor in the sun waiting to be interpreted by whoever passed?

[deiter-neumann-blog]

channingmcrx‌:

It took no more than a second for Channing to realize just who had walked through her door that morning. The charming smile and handsome eyes were all too difficult to miss, effortlessly seeming to whisk away all attention she had focused anywhere else previously. The thought of poisons and plans were sat on the back burner as the blonde dusted her fingers off on the jeans she wore. “Well that seems a bit like a trick question”, she offered, a wicked grin pulling at nude lips without hesitation. “If you’re asking that I believe that you don’t know how to pick out flowers for a birthday gift, then I would absolutely believe that. No one knows how to pick out flowers for a birthday”, she started, measured steps carrying her closer to where he stood. Channing was someone who was too careful and too calculating, who often times never partook in those fleeting moments. But that day in the coffee shop had stirred a kind of curiosity inside of her, one only further ignited by his presence in her shop now. “Now, if you’re asking whether or not I’d believe your simply running an errand and this is just a chance encounter? I’d have to say that one stands on shaky ground”, Channing’s steppes stopped in front of him, nimble fingers plucking a small white bell shaped flower from a pot before out stretching it to him. “So birthday flowers?”

“No one except you, I’d imagine,” he replied, unable to hold in a small chuckle as he spoke, his eyes darting around the shop before landing back on her. The thoughts from their first encounter came flooding back, turning the annoyance of the errand into something more of a grateful nature. “I’m going to let you guess which one I mean,” he replied, his grin growing into more of a mischievous smirk as he spoke. Between the seriousness of work conversations, piled on to the seriousness of his conversations centered on the Syndicate, he found that he enjoyed simple moments like this. There was no play for him, just simply enjoying talking to the woman in front of him. Which was something that become rare for him even before he moved back home. “But unfortunately, I’m the new guy and we’re between interns, so here I am. Asking for your help,” he sighed, trying not to laugh at himself for how cheesy that line was. “Seriously though, I hardly know the woman, so I have no idea what to get her. What’s something safe for someone you’re not sure about their preferences?”