Natasha leans back a little when Lucifer interjects, letting him take over. Arms propped against the back of the chair she straddles, she watches with a placid expression, looking completely unbothered by her partner's more extreme methods of questioning. Even if she has no idea what he's actually doing, she's pretty sure she can feel the magic simmering off him beside her. And she knows the signs of pain and internal injuries when she sees them. Interesting.
While she shoots him a look when he claims she can't help here, she otherwise lets him go about this how he wants, curious to see where his instincts lead him. Still, when he turns to her with that sharp, almost feral grin, she lets one corner of her lips quirk upwards in faint amusement.
Playing nonchalant, she inclines her head. "I suppose I can see how that would be true. If you lose your clients' trust, you lose your clients. Discretion is key in your business."
"But see, here's the problem with the people we're looking for." Almost primly, she withdraws a handkerchief from a pocket in her vest and reaches out to gently dab at the blood staining the prisoner's lips. Cleaning him up. "If they're growing desperate enough to start taking Summoned, they're escalating quickly. They're not going to care who gets caught in the crossfire now, or who suffers from their... eagerness. They're getting bolder in who they take and from where. And there's evidence they've been tampering with the grain shipments Thorne has received." Nothing conclusive, but their thief doesn't need to know that.
"So if left unchecked, this group - which is clever and powerful enough to take even Summoned off the streets - is going to have a big impact on your client base. Just how many of them do you think are going to still be around to need your services when the disappearances increase? When the food shortages grow worse, or when plague starts spreading along the streets of Nott? I may not be a native, but I've seen what happens to cities like that when panic and distrust overrules common sense and everyone out for themselves starts focusing on survival above all else. How do you think you'll fare on those streets then?"
She watches his face pale even more as she paints a picture of how easily a disaster could spread from this. The man was a thief and chaos in small doses would play to his benefit, but when it was all chaos? No one could work with that. The mention of plague especially has him looking terrified - no amount of skill and stealth can protect you from that.
He takes a shuddering breath, looking frantically between Lucifer and Natasha, as if searching for any semblance that her words are a lie. That there's any other way out of this for him, but it's visible when he gives up, shoulders slumping and head dropping in defeat, breath leaving him in a slow, stuttered exhale.
"I didn't take the job. They were very persuasive, but. What they wanted... it was too risky. Not when I'm working alone." He pauses, licking dry lips, looking nervous. "I can't give you names - they were careful in not revealing those, that's pretty standard in my business, we all work under aliases - but... If you give your word you'll let me go, I can tell you where they wanted me to deliver to. They left me a location, in case I changed my mind. But it can't be known that I was the one who let this slip. If it gets out that I'm snitching details on a client, I'm done for. No one will trust me enough to hire me. But I don't want no trouble with the Summoned, either."
He casts an uneasy look at Lucifer, especially, because if he never has to lay eyes on you in particular again, he'll be happy.
Natasha just leans back in her chair once more, having not picked up any tells of a lie in those words. She, too, glances over at Lucifer, one eyebrow arched in silent inquiry. Is there anything else he wants to ask? Even as she answers the man's request for an exchange. "I'm sure that could be arranged. Considering how cooperative you're being."
no subject
While she shoots him a look when he claims she can't help here, she otherwise lets him go about this how he wants, curious to see where his instincts lead him. Still, when he turns to her with that sharp, almost feral grin, she lets one corner of her lips quirk upwards in faint amusement.
Playing nonchalant, she inclines her head. "I suppose I can see how that would be true. If you lose your clients' trust, you lose your clients. Discretion is key in your business."
"But see, here's the problem with the people we're looking for." Almost primly, she withdraws a handkerchief from a pocket in her vest and reaches out to gently dab at the blood staining the prisoner's lips. Cleaning him up. "If they're growing desperate enough to start taking Summoned, they're escalating quickly. They're not going to care who gets caught in the crossfire now, or who suffers from their... eagerness. They're getting bolder in who they take and from where. And there's evidence they've been tampering with the grain shipments Thorne has received." Nothing conclusive, but their thief doesn't need to know that.
"So if left unchecked, this group - which is clever and powerful enough to take even Summoned off the streets - is going to have a big impact on your client base. Just how many of them do you think are going to still be around to need your services when the disappearances increase? When the food shortages grow worse, or when plague starts spreading along the streets of Nott? I may not be a native, but I've seen what happens to cities like that when panic and distrust overrules common sense and everyone out for themselves starts focusing on survival above all else. How do you think you'll fare on those streets then?"
She watches his face pale even more as she paints a picture of how easily a disaster could spread from this. The man was a thief and chaos in small doses would play to his benefit, but when it was all chaos? No one could work with that. The mention of plague especially has him looking terrified - no amount of skill and stealth can protect you from that.
He takes a shuddering breath, looking frantically between Lucifer and Natasha, as if searching for any semblance that her words are a lie. That there's any other way out of this for him, but it's visible when he gives up, shoulders slumping and head dropping in defeat, breath leaving him in a slow, stuttered exhale.
"I didn't take the job. They were very persuasive, but. What they wanted... it was too risky. Not when I'm working alone." He pauses, licking dry lips, looking nervous. "I can't give you names - they were careful in not revealing those, that's pretty standard in my business, we all work under aliases - but... If you give your word you'll let me go, I can tell you where they wanted me to deliver to. They left me a location, in case I changed my mind. But it can't be known that I was the one who let this slip. If it gets out that I'm snitching details on a client, I'm done for. No one will trust me enough to hire me. But I don't want no trouble with the Summoned, either."
He casts an uneasy look at Lucifer, especially, because if he never has to lay eyes on you in particular again, he'll be happy.
Natasha just leans back in her chair once more, having not picked up any tells of a lie in those words. She, too, glances over at Lucifer, one eyebrow arched in silent inquiry. Is there anything else he wants to ask? Even as she answers the man's request for an exchange. "I'm sure that could be arranged. Considering how cooperative you're being."