[i]Lalalala, he was dreeeaaaming. He was absolutely sure of it, and there was no way to change his mind. When the man sat down, Jason grinned to himself, amused by his words about the Russian having doomed himself or whatever -- he didn't care, at least not really.[/i] "Doomed myself? Hardly! I'm dreaming right now... makes me wonder [i]why[/i] my subconscious is making this all up, but at the same time, I can't remember much of anything... Strange. See, I can't even remember the deal I supposedly just made... probably by drinking my whiskey o whatever." [i]He simply shrugged to himself, grey eyes staring at the man in front of him. He made a little 'hmm' noise as he swirled the strange pink liquid around in its glass, only to bring it up to his lips as he had the vodka, drinking it down with a single gulp, just like how shots were intended. With a slow sigh, he sat the glass back down.[/i]

[b]Sadly, the pink liquid was pepto-bismol, a digestive medicine. Needless to say, it tasted absolutely horrible. Though there was something else mixed in there... It tasted like vanilla. It was very faint, but it was very much there. He began to feel faint again.[/b] “Doom yourself? I never said that. Have patience, Jason. You must have patience, wait for your time.” [b]Quickly after, Jason fell again. He woke up very soon this time, in a black room with a window. Beside the window, was a briefcase.[/b]

[i]Jason was literally on the verge of replying to the strange man when he passed out again, only to "wake up" in a new room. Going by the singular window and lone briefcase, he assumed the job he accepted to be an assassination of... someone, though that was a guess. A wild guess in a wild dream, eight eyebrow rising up in curiosity and confusion both as he did nothing more than stare for a little. Slowly, he started walking towards the briefcase, dress shoes lightly tapping on the wooden flooring, echoing throughout the empty room. He paused when he stood before the briefcase, carefully laying it down on its side and on top of the windowsill-thing it was on, flicking open the little locks after. He lifted the lid, peering inside with curiosity shining in his eyes..[/i]

[b]Inside, however, was not a gun. It was a handheld telescope, looking very old. It was brown on the body of it, with a gold trim around the edges. It was oddly light, and looked polished. It appeared to be wooden, or maybe even some sort of rough metal. Perhaps his goal was less violent than he originally thought.[/b]

[i]Jason sighed quietly, gently picking the telescope up and out of its case, making sure to handle its seemingly old frame with care, lest he accidentally break it. He blinked his two silver eyes in mild confusion, taking a glance out the window before he lifted the telescope up to his eyes, peering through it and out the window without another thought. He wondered what he'd see, and what the job he took was supposed to be.[/i]