#🎱 (your bank statement has arrived: ic)?🎱

[kalmaccountant]

[🎱]

"Is that an open invitation for me to join your little party the next time you end up fighting that gang? I'd be more than happy to show you how it's done." Zwei teased further, his honey coloured glare staring into those electric blue irises that Reno had, a small smirk tugging hard on the corners of his lips. The accountant still clutched the phone in his hand, taking his chance to be a little more adventurous. He began to scroll through the many photos that Reno had saved on his phone, a brow raised upon coming across a particular image. "Well ain't this just dandy. You look adorable." He turned the phone to show the other, quite a revealing photo of the red head to say the least.

kalmaccountant‌:

[🎱]

He could see it in the elite Turk’s eyes that he was getting more riled up, the way he tossed his phone at him was evidence to that. The accountant flipped the phone open and analysed what was on the screen. Everything seemed to match up just fine, maybe Zwei did overreact a little bit. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to dig a little bit further on the Turk sitting before him. He had been sitting here all day doing nothing but work, he could get away with a little bit of fun. “Well, Reno perhaps I was wrong about the cash stuff. Even so, I sure hope the next time you’re in a fight you don’t get beaten up so badly. How many times was it now, twice? By the same group of people? You can do better.”

     Reno just stares at the other with his piercing eyes, the jab was doing very little for Zwei at the moment. Reno wasn’t just recovering physically after all. He was jagged edges and emotionally raw. He’d been doing well to hide it, doing his best to get back to his cocky facade. And as much as he knows Zwei is just teasing, Reno is getting more pissed then he’s sure the other realizes. The second in command simply holding his hand out for the phone, “ …fuck you. I’d like to see you fight them and come back without a scratch. ” he seethes. 

[kalmaccountant]

He never understood why of all the people within the Turks, Samira picked him for this. Oh the stories that he was told about her games. In his mind, he was honoured that she thought so highly of him and was worthy of the attention that she had now gifted him. Equations, math, killing. To be able to let that go for at least a short moment with her. He would have to pay her back for this night in the future.

The sly innuendo was something Zwei picked up on almost immediately, causing him to raise a brow as he was tugged into the club. The male was about to display his own form of wit towards Samira until the booming, surround sound speakers replaced the calm quiet of the street halting that plan right in its tracks. The male had tightened his arm around Samira's as the tidal wave of song, loud banter and cheering washed over him. It had been far too long since he had been clubbing let alone with someone like Samira.

"Hey. Drinks first. Then we dance." Zwei had leant in quite close to her ear, hoping that his tone was loud enough to overpower the crowd and music that played above. There was a slight feeling in his gut. Nerves? Couldn't possibly be. This night was just about two work colleagues letting loose and having fun. No need to feel pressure right? His thoughts were aimed at just one person, opting to block out as much as he possibly could. Samira was right in front of him and he had every intention of making sure this night would be the best for himself and her.

Perhaps a couple of drinks in his system would calm him down.

"So why this place? Got tired of messaging me in the comfort of your room? Honestly, we should do shit like this more often. Just me and you, y'know?!"

kalmaccountant·:

{A totally unplanned closed starter for @thecleanvpcrew·) 

[🎱 ]

“So…. You want me to go to the club with you tonight? Sure. I’ll meet you there.”

Thus was he was wrapped around the Cleaner’s fingers once more as the accountant found himself on another escapade with the most alluring Turk in his eyes, and Zwei wouldn’t have it any other way. A ‘working relationship with benefits’, for lack of better descriptions was how he felt when with the femme fatale, and on this special occasion he had been invited to the club for the night. While he still had work to do, who was he to say no to one who was as persuasive, beautiful and brutally honest as Samira Declan. He counted himself lucky indeed.

Zwei had decided to wear a more simpler attire, but still looking as smart and intelligent and handsome as possible. He wore the classic Turk white shirt but being bold enough to unbind the top three buttons. It was a night out, he wanted to have fun and so a little bit of chest wouldn’t hurt anyone. Especially not Samira. A jet black leather jacket soon follows, wrapping around his shoulders cleanly and accentuating his upper body, making his shoulders seem much larger than normal. Outside of the club that they both agreed on did he wait for her, taking the time to calmly puff on a cigarette. Smoking was a habit that he shamlessly took from the woman taking him out for the night. 

Once Samira came into view however, the smirk creeping on Zwei’s face was very hard to fight back, there was something about Samira that he just couldn’t resist to indulge whenver they were away from the prying ears of the other Turks. Tossing the cigarette aside, the male bowed slightly before flashing her a knowing wink. “You know… If you were going to wear something like that, I might’ve tried a little harder.” 

      she was never anything but the image of professionalism. in the downbeat between jobs samira often lurked in the seedy underbelly of the world. she had lists of these places committed to memory, side jobs that kept her skills sharp and her senses on tack ——but places that demanded more exertion. clubs, with their too-loud music and liquor, the pulsing lights and writhing bodies. samira wasn’t satisfied unless she wandered out with a sheen of sweat glistening every spare ounce of her visible flesh, her lungs desperate for pulls of air only to be denied by the strangle of cigarette smoke outside. but even when she lost herself in the sea of flesh and breath she was still a turk. it was in the steel of her gaze, the square of her shoulders, the grime stuck beneath her nails that no amount of washing would ever really be rid of.

      to share this part of her with someone else was immense. offered in the most casual of senses, as if she wasn’t divulging a piece of herself to one of her fellow suits. if nothing else was obvious by this point, her visage of steel was her armor ——nobody knew her better than the turks, and none of them knew of her hobbies outside of ritual evidence clearing. perhaps tseng did, but she’d never invite her boss to her den of inequities.

      but zwei was not her boss. zwei was another story entirely.

      her approach to the club came only a short while after zwei’s own arrival. her garb significantly different than her usual turk attire: red the predominant color, and no flesh spared from any lurking eye, so they desire to peek. the only hint that the consummate professional lurked was the heels and the red lip stain, otherwise she was all leg and sweeping curve. his wink was met with a ghost of a smirk, samira looping her arm into his and tugging him toward the club’s entrance without a second thought.

      “ i hope you’re thirsty, zwei. it gets hot inside. ”

[kalmaccountant]

[🎱]

He could see it in the elite Turk's eyes that he was getting more riled up, the way he tossed his phone at him was evidence to that. The accountant flipped the phone open and analysed what was on the screen. Everything seemed to match up just fine, maybe Zwei did overreact a little bit. But that didn't stop him from wanting to dig a little bit further on the Turk sitting before him. He had been sitting here all day doing nothing but work, he could get away with a little bit of fun. "Well, Reno perhaps I was wrong about the cash stuff. Even so, I sure hope the next time you're in a fight you don't get beaten up so badly. How many times was it now, twice? By the same group of people? You can do better."

kalmaccountant·:

[🎱]

“Maybe you should try and not get your ass beaten up so hard by a couple of misfits next time.” Of course, it was in his nature to provide a scathing sarcastic commentary on an individual’s performance on the field. Zwei was still mildly annoyed that the transactions made were done without his informing, while the reasoning was fair enough he hated being left in the dark. “You don’t even wear a full suit, there’s no way on Gaia’s blessed green grass that a replacement suit would bump the price tag this high, even with the extra crap you bought along with it. You sure you didn’t buy aything for your own personal use?” Mused the financier as he flipped a single gil piece in his hand. 

     Reno was getting really fed up with the accusations. Brows knitting with a click of his tongue. “ I don’t really appreciate you accusing me a of shit. I don’t take unneeded money from the Turks pockets. Maybe you should go over the numbers again, because I only bought what I needed. ” he spits out, irritable. All but ignoring the comment of getting his ass kicked. That last fight had been a sore spot, not in any mood to go talking about it. Or be scolded for it either. Not unless Zwei wanted an actual physical confrontation. He’d then toss the other his phone without warning “ don’t believe me? Look through my payment history, I don’t honestly give a fuck. ” hands then sliding into the pockets of his new blazer lazily.