Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26104528-20150531022109/@comment-26130256-20150601163243

(For Ochre, I more imagined the grandfather from Spy Kids 2 and 3.  With that suit and that voice, I can only imagine him running a crime family on the side.)

"Please, call me Ochre for now," the man chuckled as he sat down. "You already know who I am, and I see no reason to keep reminding you every minute." For a man of such stature, Ochre's friendly demeanor seemed rather out of place, but this friendly attitude was why he was sometimes called "Grandfather Cardamom." That, and nothing threw off adversaries more than the idea that their threats weren't even worth getting worked up about. Trigo sat down as well, but he was too busy watching for any potential threats to contribute much to the conversation.

"Now, the help I can offer depends on what help you desire.  For materials, I can either provide capital or perhaps broker a deal with some suppliers to secure a bulk discount.  If you need workers, I may be able to put the word out in my turf that you're hiring, some of the poorer neighborhoods would love that sort of news.  And if you're truly desperate, perhaps some of my own men can help, but I warn you they're more used to swinging swords and axes than hammers.  Unless, of course, this is a union project, in which case I refuse to work with anyone more criminal than I." He laughed again. "Trigo, in whose territory is that factory?"

"Clockspring's gang, last I checked," Trigo replied.

"Excellent.  Fortunately for us all, Zephrion, even though your building is far from our turf, Clockspring is an old friend of mine." Trigo coughed loudly.

"Or at least an ally." Another cough.

"An acquaintance." A third cough.

"He's not actively seeking my death, and in my line of work, sometimes that's the best one can hope for." Ochre said with finality. Trigo only nodded in approval, and went back to his searching.