Technique shows up at The Rage, dressed in black shirt, black jeans, and a black New York Yankees cap on. It was about a good hour before actual opening time - it was truly amazing what dropping a fifty dollar bill in someones lap during a recession will get you. He had come looking for the proprietor of the club, a man named Jammer who Technique had never met but had already wronged. He wasnt here on orders - Jefe hadnt sent him, nobody had told him to apologize. He was here because, in every action, there had to be a counterweight, had to be justice. The scales would always stay balanced - atleast they should always be. And so, here he was, about to abase himself before a man hed never met, over a wrong he might not have even seen. Technique waits in the entrance hallway for the musician to show up.

Upon entering and walking his way down the hallway to the dance area, he notices how big the floor looks when its so empty. A few people are moving about, checking sound, lights, and re-stocking the bar. A dark man with dreads notices the Acanthus standing, just looking about, and walks over to him. "The party not be startin' for anotha' hour, mon," the man says, his Jamaican accent obvious and his question implied.

The accent almost took Tech by surprise - and then remembered the Dancehallesque music going on during the fateful night he was here to discuss."Ah, well, maybe i will just have to stay for that, permitting how you feel after our conversation. My name is Technique, and we have similar business interests." He extends a hand forward to the Apostate, a friendly smile on his face. "Do you have somewhere private we could go to, to discuss some matters?"

"Jammer," he answers in kind after a moment's thought, accepting the handshake. "Dis way." The Rage's owner leads the Arrow back past the DJ booth to a brick-walled office. The walls are adorned with pictures and posters of various DJs and big name metal, trance, and dance artists, lit up by a few lamps around the room and behind the desk. Jammer sits and reclines slightly in the chair, watching the Acanthus with interest as he asks, "What sort o' business you be wishing to discuss?"

He smiles politely, standing in front of the desk in the military pose of at ease. "Well, Jammer, for starters - i caused a disruption in your club not too long ago. I was aware that this was a meeting place for the Awakened - i was not aware of the specific rules of business in your club, and for that, I apologize." Technique stops, unsure of how Jammer would respond - Which is he gonna care about more - the fact that i broke his rules, or that i came back at all?

Jammer absorbs the information and takes the Acanthus in for a bit. "Mighty brave o' you to come and admit that, mon," he says. Then, he adds, "You be doin' this of your own accord, or you be followin' orders?"

"This was my fuck up, and my decision to come back. I am aware that there are some among us who are pretty miffed about what i did - i dont really give a shit. Im square with the sentinel.....and i want to be square with you. You offer up this place as a recruiting ground and social event for us, and i damn near ruined it." He casually looks around the office before bringing up another point. "I am capable of repaying you, in mundane ways as well. Perhaps i could offer to expand your sound system? An almost blank check, how does that sound?" Its not a bribe. Its repayment. I owe him, and this is a way i can finish that debt.

The establishment's owner considers for a moment. "Honest and to the point. I be likin' dese qualities in you," he says. He then digs in his desk for a cup with a few drops of what on first glance looks like juice, but then Technique notices a few motes of magic floating in the liquid. "Since you be offering, how 'bout dis, mon? You will pour a small bit of your Mana into dis fo' the next month to provide for additional effects. You can drop in anytime before da party starts. The punishment be fitting the crime, right?"

"Sadly, i am lacking in some of the requisite Arts to transfer mana in such a way - though i have some myself right now. Perhaps i could...with your assistance, maybe, offer some now?" Tech glosses over the specifics of 'what am i contribute magic to?' in favor of getting this debt out of the way. Hopefully the mana wouldnt be used in something more....sinister.

Jammer chuckles a little. "Dat's da beauty of dis item, mon: you won't be needin' to know how to give Mana yourself. You just need to say 'I'm makin' a deposit' while holding your finger at de lip like so to activate it," he explains and demonstrates, causing a few sips' worth of the same mote-filled liquid to bubble up from the middle of the cup like a very low-pressure fountain.

After considering a moment, Technique reaches his hand out, a ball of blue energy coalescing in the middle of his palm, and slowly gravitating into the cup.

"T'ank you very much," Jammer says, placing the cup on the desk, letting the liquid slosh around a bit but never enough to leave its container. "There be anything else you wish to discuss?"

He breaks his At Ease stance, just for a moment, to reach his hand forward. "Pleasure doing business with you, sir, and may we have continued prospering relations!" He says, turning to leave the premises.

"A pleasure," the rastafarian agrees, shaking the outstretched hand of the Acanthus warrior before letting him dismiss himself.