[devils den] we stopped checking for monsters under our beds... [grisha]

when we realized they were inside of us.

Everything in his life was changing, Darren had been... recruited. He wasn't even sure if that was the right word or not. He'd been brought into something bigger than himself and that was good and all but it was also terrifying as hell. He had no idea what was going to happen next. He was under the supervision of a wizard who, upon first meeting him, beat him to a pulp and branded him with a smiley face. Even just the word recruit seemed like an insult. Like it was a public reminder that he was the lowest man on the totem pole.

Darren had bills to pay, debts to clear, and he didn't really have any other options but there was a small part of him, buried in the back of his mind, that was actually looking forward to whatever came next. He knew the stories about the Nightmare League, just like everyone else from the neighborhood, and he wanted that glory. Wanted that reputation. And this was exactly how he could get it, as long as he could survive that long. And so he cut his ties and opened the next chapter of his life as a criminal wizard. He gave Ryan the deed to his flat, broke things off with Jane, tried again to send a letter to Alvin and Kelly (Vin's warning him, Kelly's with love), and packed a bag.

He aparated to Knockturn Alley and entered the Devil's Den like he had on more than one occasion but this time he was going to be allowed further that just the first level. He was going to become a true recruit and that meant he was going to live and train here either until he was ready or until he was dead. He pushed his way through the crowd, he wasn't a regular by any standards, but the calculating wizard had been here enough times to know about where Grisha sat when he was around. When he found the dark wizard he let his pack fall to his side and nearly hit the floor, waiting for instructions on where he was supposed to go next. He wasn't going to give Grim another any excuse to be disappointed by him, not until he had a reason to.

"Everything is taken care of." He said plainly, coldly with robot like efficiently. He meant cutting ties to his former life, his family, Jane, everything. He wouldn't be missed, he was a denizen, they might even throw a parade back in Shoreditch with him gone. He assumed Grisha would know the meaning behind his vague words so he didn't elaborate further.

@Grigoriy Zukov

Grigoriy lit the cigarette in the alcove in the Den, light eyes peering out into the crowd. He was bored. Bored Grisha was bad thing. His Queenie had already pissed him off by ignoring his floo, and not being where he wanted her to be, so he was raring to fight. He’d already been reprimanded by boss Bones to stop tormenting people, so he’d decided to lurk in the shadows like a creep. Two had kicked him from the bard for babysitting the same tumbler of vodka for 30 minutes, so he couldn’t even find solace in the bottom of the bottle.

The door opening drew his attention, and like a sharp, all his teeth appeared when he smiled. He looked like a particularly hungry well dressed beasty as he weaved his way through the crowd. His little baby boy was there, ready to play. The men met each other halfway, and Grisha was about to teach him, when the boy’s bag almost hit his shoes and almost scuffed the expensive leather. Grigoriy arched an eyebrow, and tilted his head to the side.

“Are you trying to get deck in your jaw, Shark Bait?” He threatend jovially, slapping the boy on the shoulder. “And unless you took care of your debt, everything is not taken care of…” He didn’t know why the boy was so persistent on breaking away from his former life. Like those people wouldn’t find him. And demand what he was doing. If her wanted to be a loner, he could. That wasn’t anything that he was going to worry about.

“Get your shit, and follow me…We gotta go see Vul…” The big man would scare the shit out of the teen, and it’d be beautiful. “Don’t slow me down…”

Resolute in the fact that nothing he could do was right Darren set his jaw as Grisha threatened to break it. He was afraid of the older wizard, that was obvious, but that didn't mean he had to quiver at the mere sight of him. He knew his place now and if he ever forgot it all he had to do was look at his shoulder. He looked to the ground and pulled his bag back up quickly, some part of him hoping he'd get Grisha's approval for his obedience but most of him hating himself for wishing it. Instead he got a slap on the shoulder and he cringed involuntarily, the wound still wasn't completely healed. Sure the skin was healed, it was going to be quite the purple scar for some years to come, but not all wounds were on the surface.

Darren shook his head when Grisha said all was not taken care of. He hadn't been talking about his debt but he knew that was the whole reason he was here. Even that bit was some how still humiliating. He hadn't been chosen because he was particularly memorable, only because it was a means to an end to get the boss back his money. And that made Darren feel useless too.

He was sick of feeling this way. Some part of him had convinced himself that once he got here things would be different. That he'd be a part of this organization he'd been hearing about on the street and that would make him worth something. He didn't feel that way. He wondered if that was Grisha's specialty: breaking people. He used to think he was particularly good at it but he wasn't called shark bait for nothing. In that moment he found himself feeling tired of this, feeling abused, and backed into a corner.

"Who is Vul?" He asked knowing he shouldn't of before he stopped walking for a moment. "When do I start actually working so I can get the hell off the shit list?" And now he had gone farther than he planned. There was no taking it back though. The young wizard lifted his head high, slightly resembling the fearsome Darren Hadditch he once was and waited for what came next.

“Vulcan’s this really big man who can crush your head to a pulp with his bare hands.” Grigoriy said, smiling widely. Honestly, they were just going to go get his lunch from Vulcan’s workplace, hoping that the walking black hole hadn’t forgotten that the food wasn’t his. But Darren was being a little cunt, and he didn’t need to know that. It always amused him how sensitive new recruits were, especially when they were dragged into the situation.

“And you’re being a little bitch, so maybe I should make you wait.” Grisha continued, grinning even wider. “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase about honey attracts things better than sour? Or however the english goes.” He waved his hand negligently, walking forward, and expecting Darren to follow. “Don’t get over your head, little bait. My patience is non existent…”

He walked to the back door, opening it without any resistance. The backroomd were protected, but not like the lower levels. They were going to head into one of the many meeting rooms where Grigoriy could inform him about how things were going to go, but if Darren wanted to do things the hard way, they could do things the hard way. Opening a door on the left, Grigoriy peered in to make sure the lady of the house wasn’t in there being a mapgie.

“Come in…have a seat. “ He gestured towards a couch and draped himself on another couch, staring deadly like at the other boy. “…You don’t really want to start off this relationship with your sour ass attitude, Darren…” He warned, sneering.

"Sounds like someone I want to meet sure." He said with a roll of his eyes, he was not paying enough attention. He should of stuck with what he had originally planned to do. He was going to be respectful, or at least as respectful as he could muster. Was going to do what he was told and speak only when he was told but instead he had come crashing in like a freight train. His mouth was writing checks again and he had no filter on it. He had more than half expected to get hit after what he had said. It wasn't particularly insulting but it was snarky for sure. Instead of being smacked he was hit with words and Darren frowned deeply at them. He didn't care about the saying or getting in over his head or Grisha's patience. He was out of his element and it made him uncomfortable. It made him volatile.

He huffed loudly as he followed Grisha into a room, expecting it to be some horrifying place used as a scare tactic but he was surprised to see it wasn't much more than a sitting room. He dropped his bag before dropping into the cushy sofa with a sigh. He was already in over his head and he was beginning to spiral. He didn't want to be here, but he did. He didn't want to be owned, but he wanted to be part of this. Everything felt wrong and he felt like he was in the wrong skin. He wasn't the kind to doubt himself and here he was going over his bratty attitude moments earlier wondering if he was really acting like a little bitch.

And then it hit him.

He didn't have to put up with this did he? And if so, for how long? Was he going to be their slave forever? "My attitude is not sour." He retorted quickly, rolling his dark eyes at the other wizard with a scowl. He leaned into the seat, crossing a leg over the other and resting one arm dominantly on the arm of the sofa. He was a tough guy too, maybe not as tough, but he didn't have to play the wimp forever. He certainly hadn't signed up for that.

"I signed up to pay off my debt man, but if you ain't gonna' give me the chance to earn it proper than I'd sooner die then be a slave forever." He stared coldly at the other wizard, trying to some how same some face even though he barely had any left to hold onto at this point. He knew Grisha saw him as nothing more than a sewer rat, some punk kid who owed his boss that he could use as a chew toy, but Darren wouldn't roll over forever. He wasn't made that way. He'd get his shit kicked in day in and day out before he sold his soul like that.

Blink

Blink.

Grisha could only stare at the boy as he opened his fool mouth and let garbage pour out. As if they’d not have this conversation before. Like Grigoriy hadn’t treated the boy like a human being, trying to ease him into the depths that were the pit. But like an idiot, he bucked against everything. Grigoriy was all too aware of when it was time to fight, and when it was time to listen, but apparently his new apprentice wasn’t quite sure of how to balance those two things.

“You’re either extremely stupid, or just …well, no you’re just extremely fucking stupid.” His accent thickened in his anger, and his fingertips made a rapid beat on the armrest of the couch. “You think I brought you here so you could not work? If so, you’re even stupider than you look. The Den is hard to manuever, and I was going to explain to you how things worked her, but I see you want to walk blind. Fine.” Shrugging, Grisha just leaned back into chair, as if he was going to relax, but in one swift movement, he was in Darren’s personal space, his hand gripping Darren’s throat.

“The first thing you’re going to learn is to respect me.” He rumbled, head tilted to the side. He applied more pressure, hoping that the boy could hear him over the sound of his own breath seeping from his lungs. “The second thing is how to listen. Unless you want a repeat of the alleyway, I’d sit here, ask smart questions, and listen…You get me?”

For a split second, a tiny moment in time, Darren actually believed his little rant would actually make things better. Like maybe in some twisted way it would register with Grisha that Darren was more than just another cog in the machine but those ideals were quickly squashed. Being called stupid didn't phase him, he knew he was smart, he was probably too clever for his own good most of the time. And he was entirely too confident about it. The next bit though, that part stung. That had never been the plan, well he'd never know for sure now because he'd gone and ruined everything. Grisha was going to wade him into the machine slowly, help him get acquainted and then put him to work, that was all Darren had been asking for. But he'd been stupid enough to believe that demanding it would make it so. Instead he pissed off probably the one and only ally he had in this camp, it was an estranged alignment, but Grisha was his point of contact none the less.

He chewed nervously on the inside of his lip until everything changed. In an instant the other wizard was on top of him, hand to his throat, applying pressure. Darren sunk into the sofa, trying to create distance instinctively as his wide dark eyes peered over toward Grigoriy. He set his jaw, trying to not show fear like he'd seen Alvin do so many times before but he wasn't as practiced. He did respect him, he had just never learned how to show it instead of demanding it. He felt the crushing weight on his wind pipe increasing as his fingers curled around the arm of the sofa. His nails dug in as he began to assume the worst. It was going to be just as bad as the alley and there was nothing he could do but accept it. And then he was given a choice.

Darren didn't need any further reminder.

Dark locks of hair fell into his eyes as he strained himself to afford the other man a few quick nods. "I... okay... yes.." He said between hard earned breaths before using a hand to push at Grisha's. He would obey, be a good little soldier, it wasn't like he had any other option. He had to stow his own pride for a little while. It was going to be hard but Darren was a determined wizard, he'd never met a challenge he couldn't beat and he wouldn't let this be the first. "Smart.. questions.." He could do that too. He did have questions, real ones and he could leave the toddler tantrum behind, first he had to get this man's death grip off his throat. "Got it... Sir." His eyes flashed toward Grisha and he stopped fighting, his arm fell complacently and he just waited for him to release him. He was certain he'd have some kind of bruise but he wasn't going to push against it anymore, he was supposed to respect Grisha, this was the only way he knew how.