It was no surprise that Blackjack Venturo was a nocturnal creature, working among shadows cast by cool moonlight and retiring as the sun rose. There were exceptions to be made to his schedule, particularly for any matters pertaining to the Pitt, but for the most part, he chose to work and live in darkness, a befitting trait of an individualistic person.

His back strained from the weight of the beast upon it: a cheetah that had met her fate by his powerful hands as per a contract. What was his reward? What was their name? Things were getting to the point that he could hardly remember the details of the tasks assigned to him in the first place — only the face and a potential location was required, and then he would be off on his next hunt.

He found himself at the Crimson Nile tonight, the blood red waters turning to a nearly dark blue color in the black night, with only the moon's light to offer guidance. The jaguar extended a bloodstained paw into the Crimson Nile, his paw painted with even more crimson as he pulled it out. He had yet to make use of the river as a means of getting rid of a body, but perhaps now would be a good opportunity. Sliding the spotted feline's limp corpse off from his back, he began to push it into the river unceremoniously, thinking of the carnivorous aquatic wildlife that could make better use of it while simultaneously disposing of evidence of the bounty. He watched the body float down and felt nothing at all.

Why he took it upon himself to stay in this line of work, he had no goddamn clue.

[member=16195]Kold[/member]

A familiar voice made his ears twitch, and he turned to face Kold, who had made a remark about his dumping a bounty into the Crimson Nile. Jack's muscles tensed at first, unsure of how to react to someone spectating him disposing of evidence of a crime. Then again, Kold was a Pittian, and even if she wasn't, it's not like she would care about his hunts in the slightest. He let himself relax quickly after, enough for him to be able to respond to her after a few beats. "If no one else wants these bodies around, the river monsters here would surely be glad to have them." He nodded towards the blood red river as he spoke, alluding to the aquatic creatures known to consume the carcasses that have been deposited in the waters. He considered his act to be beneficial for at least two parties: himself and whatever lay beneath the surface.

It seemed like there was rarely a moment in the Pitt in which Blackjack could breathe and not be approached by some other member. Truthfully he felt annoyed by the idea, but over time he had adjusted to the others' much more extroverted selves and even began to willingly show up in the central plaza. Though he still vastly preferred to spending nights by his lonesome (or with the silent Oscuro), he admittedly didn't abhor conversation as much as he used to. "What brings you here tonight?" the feline asked in an effort to remain polite to the other.

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Blackjack watched the canine conjure up light within her own paws, an orange flame flickering in her grasp that illuminated her features and cast shadows upon her face. She looked quite intimidating in this light, though knowing her well, he didn't feel all too afraid at all. Kold was quite capable of manipulating certain elements to her will, he realized, and he wondered silently when she had first discovered this ability. He considered mentioning his own recent experience with inadvertently summoning electricity, but he ultimately decided against it. That was his own personal problem.

Despite not wanting to delve into his private experiences, the feline sure seemed interested in her own thoughts. "Good thoughts or bad?" he mused to the other with a slight inquisitive tilt of his head. Blackjack wasn't sure if he had any strong opinion on Olalla or Vale. They were drastically different individuals, but at the end of the day, they seemed to be quite capable Ardents and worked well together. The Pitt didn't seem to be struggling, so that was a good enough sign. As for why he would indulge Kold on the matter, he was merely curious. She was an outspoken individual for the most part, but that didn't mean that she wasn't capable of withholding things for herself.

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"I think both of them are respectable, all things considered. Though you've been here longer, you know things better than I do," Blackjack said. Truly he felt that the Ardents that controlled the Pitt were productive and fairly dependable, which was all he really needed in a leader. He wasn't a sheep incapable of forming his own opinions and schedules and mindset, so what the Ardents did now were good enough. There were projects being taken care of, territories to protect. Things were going fine, though he didn't have a personal connection to either one of them.

He had never quite made note of Kold's relationship or overall standing with Olalla. Clearly Olalla trusted her, making her a Marauder, but to what extent? Was it all a mere professional facade? "Something happen between you and him?"