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Indie Raymond "Red" Reddington from NBC's Blacklist. Private. Selective. Mun/Muse 21+. Dark Themes present. Please read rules/bio before following/interacting. Written by Erick

whcwashe:

“I dunno. People surprise me sometimes. You think you can trust someone, but –” But you couldn’t, always. Sometimes you just COULDN’T. Sometimes even the people you put your faith in felt you were an acceptable loss. And maybe she was. Maybe she was the easy sacrifice. She wasn’t here to have that conversation though, and now certainly wasn’t the time to bring it up. She falls silent again, shaking her head as she directed her glance back down to her feet. It was – offputting, in a way. How conversational he was. How personable, even after having shot someone in the knee. Even if she didn’t feel threatened directly, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat frightened by the idea of it all. She had enough nightmares without replaying the sound of someone NEW screaming in the middle of the night, over and over. 

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“Uhm –” She pauses, pulling her notebook out of her backpack and glancing quickly around the room. She’s quick, and it’s hardly the most accurate map she’s drawn. But she’d been working on her cartography skills, enough that it’s at least obvious that she’s drawn a rough approximation of the room. Should do the trick, anyway. For all intents and purposes. “Hide something …” She paused, glancing around the room as she wrapped the chain to her amulet tightly around the palm of her hand. “Anything. Anywhere. Doesn’t matter what it is, just — hide it well…” She shrugged, setting the notebook next to her phone. “I’ll even cover my eyes if you want, you just …. need to tell me when you’re done.”

Red smiled, “Most people can trust me, unless they’ve done something to ruin their chances.” This is a normal occurrence to him. Not a stranger walking in on an interrogation, but the interrogation itself being something like a supper outing with friends. Conversation was never hard to have, and Red was a veritable font of knowledge and quotes that he never tired of sharing. Sometimes it was a smokescreen for something, but he enjoyed just how disconcerted people got around his particular conversational style. “You don’t know what you’re missing, honestly. It’s one of the best cheeses I’ve ever had, and it tastes even sweeter with the wine.” It really was affecting her, though, this whole ordeal. She was so innocent, a rarity these days. 

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The directions were given, and his eyes bored a hole into her as he watched her draw the layout of the room. A cartographer? He could always use another one of those. Hide something and she would find it. Well, that was exactly what she would be doing if she proved herself, it made sense. Tongue came out to wet thin lips before he spoke. A small part of him wanted to tell her that if she proved herself, Red would own her, would call on her whenever he needed something found and his other resources came up empty. Unfortunately, that may change her mind about helping him, so mum was the word. “Anything. Anywhere in the room,” he clarified. He was still for a moment, almost scarily still, before he removed the scarf from his neck and held it out to her. “Fine. I’ll bite. I’ll hide the rest of the bottle of wine,” he glanced at Steve, “dinner and a show, will you look at this?” he chuckled before taking stock of the room, finding an appropriate place, and doing just that. After a few moments, he returned to stand in front of her.
“All right, let’s see this trick.”

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