Well, the trip with Benny was planned, a good amount of data cataloguing done, security flaws ironed out with Joseph, and the professors were updated on when applications for the university were due- so there was only one major bit of business left over.

He in all honesty didn't expect anything at all when he gave the thief instructions. So when she asked if she could come by with the job done like it was nothing, it definitely left Braxiatel somewhat intrigued. She had the guts, he gave her that- but he wasn't entirely sure he believed it, either. Would she have come up with some trick that would get it traced back to him? That would need to be checked.

Ten minutes on the dot from her last message, the distinctive groan of TARDIS engines permeated the air. Judging by a soft clinking, echoing from down the halls, she was probably materializing below a chandelier. She was an adequate pilot, he didn't think she'd damage it at the very least. The Redjay was a thief- if she didn't have money for possible damages, he couldn't do much. So in short, things had better have stayed undisturbed.

Well, Roda could tell that the security nearby was disabled- from the place she landed not immediately having been cordoned off, or her getting shot at again. She'd already had enough of that for today as the Redjay, singed hair, ashy clothing and all. Her ship didn't particularly like being a cabinet, but a tree wasn't likely to want to balance inside the mansionhouse without roots, and the size of openings from the external doors when it was like that were inconsistent at best- she needed a good deal of space to lug this anywhere.

As if by some miracle of the breeze, the door underneath a stasis portrait creaked itself open before she could even touch it. Eerie start to things once again, not that it would be particularly easy to open while carrying the painting though, so Roda secretly appreciated it just a little bit.

He was sipping red wine, something from the case that got brought here the previous week, seemingly uninterrupted. The glass was artistically made and unique, one of a set that was unfortunately rather delicate and largely broken, modelled after Marie Antoinette's breasts. From anyone else, drinking from this would look ridiculous and tacky. But Irving Braxiatel made it known that he was not anyone else. And he had a sense of humour about himself, just one that only hit on certain wavelengths.

He finally felt kind enough to give her the time of day by speaking first, despite not looking her in the eye. "Well, you're punctual. I give you that."

Roda wanted to make a good impression for once. Really, very badly. She wanted the job, and also to not leave the Collection again in a casket. But the display wasn't her sort of thing at all. How could this man act so ostentatious? It was unreal. Roda planned to make the effort to be polite, but couldn't help rolling her eyes at it all. "Nice trick. Does it impress the other thief?" And snickered a bit at his comment. "And of course I am. Centuries of experience-" a bit of a fib, that, but technically true. Millennia were just groups of centuries after all.

Brax eyed the package she was carrying, still swirling the wine in his glass and occasionally taking another sip. "I have no need to go out of my way and impress my other thief. She's my friend. Knowing I'm impressive is generally part of the deal," then shrugged affably.

Something seemed a whole lot less wrong about him than the time last they'd met. And not just in the department of her having been rude to him the first time, so he'd respond differently. Either he was a whole lot better at masks than she realized before, or there was something distinctly different with Brax's circumstances between now and then. It made her more... comfortable. Or less. She couldn't quite pick out which. But the shines of her dark eyes danced in the firelight and she winked. "Oh, so you're trying to impress me? I'm flattered."

"Not particularly. This is just my regular level of extra." He rolled his eyes at that, taking another sip of wine and smirking.

"I'm just insulted." Roda stuck her tongue out as she headed towards one of the seats, but fell into a look more neutral and professional. Trying to take this man seriously was harder than she thought. He had the classic dramatic evil villain door, and there was a distinct feeling of power that was different from other Time Lords she knew. But he also drank from a glass that looked like a pair of breasts without any evidence suggesting whether or not it was for the irony, and was apparently so dysfunctional in regards to some personal matters that he begged for dating advice from randoms on the street. It was difficult to really form an opinion on that.

But, eventually, she slid the package over and fell back into the nearest chair. "So... business then?" It was difficult to get it all the way there, but manageable. Looking at it though, Roda couldn't help but complain. "Not as simple as you made it out to be. Do you have any idea what the security is like on the governor's estate? I mean, you probably did, knowing you."

Brax just laughed. "Of course I knew. I simply assumed it would be no problem for someone with your level of experience." He took a pocket knife to cut the twine tying the package shut, then unwrapped the brown paper around the canvas to reveal a landscape with green sky and lavender grasses. For once, he seemed to approve, even though the praise was limited, and more likely directed at the painting than her. "Not bad."

The Redjay fell back into the chair and crossed her arms, both in frustration and exhaustion. "There you go. One painting of the planet Bulmegantu, I can only assume. Owned by governor whats-his-name, who surprise surprise - turns out was an absolute bastard of a man who, as you know, is now part of a crater." There was a long sigh and tired smile she pushed into a smirk, before casually adding- "Perfect condition."

His eyes widened at what she said about the governor, mildly amused by her little story. Braxiatel didn't seem surprised, but also considering he himself was rather a bit of a bastard, and knew it well, didn't insult whoever it was further and be pot calling kettle. "Was he? I'm afraid I don't often keep track of those sorts of details..." He trailed off, examining the painting and admiring its craftsmanship.

Brax gently set it back down on the desk and looked back at her, with a cool expression Roda couldn't quite decipher, but was definitely far better than anything she got when they last met. "Well, congratulations, I would consider this a fairly successful interview. I will be in touch if I have any future work for you."

Even such tiny accolades couldn't help but put a massive grin on her face, she was so used to nothing at all, never being good enough. Roda leant over his desk and rested an elbow on it, teasing him herself. "Was that a little praise I heard? I've still got it, then, I see." She paused, backing up,"-Not that it was ever in doubt."

"No, simply pointing out that you didn't get arrested." Perhaps he was really just underestimating her.

It was really quite dumb to think she'd risk that here. "Like I'm clumsy enough to get arrested these days. Especially when arrest means blowing up." She looked at it closely herself. It was rather beautiful. And there was definitely something special about it, but didn't know what it could be. "...So, why this painting, then?"

Braxiatel ignored her, then leant down and opened a desk drawer, taking out (and needing both hands to boot,) such a comically massive stack of paper it shouldn't have reasonably fit. He dropped it on the desk in front of her with a loud thud, and offered Roda a pen. "Sign this please- and, oh, about your question? I just like it."

"I suppose that's fai-" Her eyes widened at what must have been a pound's worth of paper. Roda picked them up to inspect them, but didn't know where to start. "...What am I signing?"

"It's a contract." He dismissed her like it was an extremely stupid question to ask. "You're in luck, because it just so happens that my preferred thief is on something of a sabbatical. Time is on your side, I have an opening."

She just nodded and started scanning through it, luckily being able to read and register the information extremely quickly courtesy of a common Gallifreyan skill. Roda picked at it though, even as she was a third of the way through. "I... see. Never actually signed a contract before."

"Well, I require them of all my staff. All of them." Well that was reassuring, wasn't it? But she thought it was safe to assume that was pointed at his other thief and his girlfriend.

Reading a fair bit further again, she added. "A sabbatical? She's alright I hope?"

Brax shrugged. She'd started noticing that he did that a lot. "Oh yes, quite alright. Her business though."

Finally reaching the end, or at least so she thought, Roda stated, "Oh, I'll sign it. Probably. Unless it says..." She scrunched up her nose and held it up to her face like a lawyer. "The undersigned here agrees to sell their soul to the Braxiatel Collection."

"Not in those exact words, no." His manner was so nonchalant and comparable to what she'd already seen thus far that once again she had no idea whether he could possibly be joking. Could that really be in there? Or he was just enjoying watching her squirm. Again.

In response, she just flipped through it again, not sure whether to be angry at the idea or only more morbidly curious. "Right. ...How would you even display a soul?"

"Oh, no- not for my collection. That would be ridiculous. Not everything I happen to acquire is pretty enough to go on a shelf here." Well- that was certainly a burn. But likely an accurate one- she wasn't particularly pure of hearts. She supposed it could be archived for historical value though, adding to his joke.

Roda gave him a pointed glance. "And the painting, then? Is it for the Collection, or did I burn through the last charge of one of my better tools until I can barter for a new battery- just for something shiny to go in your living room?"

Braxiatel nodded, going back to his wine and subtly boasting. "Technically all of the Collection is my home, so both."

At that, a few of her conflicted feelings about Brax fell away, and she laughed, really laughed, for once. "Well! I suppose that's me told. Richly decorated home, then."

Looking out for any fine printing, Roda finally seemed confident in believing that he wasn't going to take her soul if she signed this, so struggled to reach the final page, then took the pen and signed her name, both in Gallifreyan and the common Latin alphabet spelling. Her handwriting seemed rough and old, at least with a pen where mistakes couldn't get erased. Roda took a breath."Okay, for better or worse, one signature, one contract, then. Do me a favour and let me keep my soul until I die, at least?"

He brushed away any remaining concerns- only to bring out more as he slid it away to make a copy. "Don't worry, there's nothing in there about me owning your soul at any point. There is, however, a clause that says you can't sue me if or when I inevitably at some point try to kill you."

His scanner already snatched the last page before she could take it back, but Roda skimmed through the rest for a fourth time with increasing anxiety, desperately hoping this part was a joke. Him acting so casually about that part either meant he just took pleasure in her fears, had experience doing it several times before- or just as likely, both. "...If. If you try to kill me, Mr. Braxiatel- which I'd really rather you didn't, by the way- I'd appreciate a heads up. Because I think it's only fair that you accept that I'll probably try to at least punch you back, since I don't have anywhere near enough money to hire a lawyer anyway."

Brax just rolled his eyes at that, shooting a stare that could kill over the rim of his glass. "Please, I'm not an amateur, the chances that you'll know it was me trying to kill you are almost zero."

"Well, if that's true then there's no need to worry about me suing you, then, is there? On the other hand, you've just seen my investigation skills..." she trailed off. Maybe this 'not wrong' Braxiatel was really worse than the one she'd met earlier in the week. Back then she assumed he was trying to kill her. Evidently, this meant he nearly could've done so without trying, and all while underestimating her too. Roda probably should have been a lot more afraid of him now. But she wasn't. Turning on the charm really did make people putty in his hands, didn't it?

Brax thought back to the rather large number of ex-employees he didn't actually end up taking out, but did remember doing it to- or maybe he did and it just didn't stick? Some things just bled through these days, and he wasn't always quite sure which Braxiatel got out of the bed one morning. "Suffice it you say- you wouldn't be the first person to eventually figure it out and be a... bit upset."

Roda sighed. He would just be a new person added to the list, really. She was tired of not being able to trust people. Braxiatel most likely wouldn't be any different. "I'll be honest. Enough people have tried to kill me that if you keep it hidden long enough, and you have a good reason- I might just... shake your hand and forget about it. Hard to say anything unless it happens."

Her general acceptance of it after him sealing this deal and subtly admitting the need to off enough people it became a regular contract clause actually did impress him a little. "Well, you're a bigger person than Jason, at least." Not that what Braxiatel said was actually a compliment. Jason Kane was literally one of his least favourite sentient beings- and quite far down the non-sentient list too, just below K-9. If anything, comparing someone to him at all, regardless of their stance together, was quite an insult to everyone involved.

"I keep telling you, I'm over a thousand. " She paused to giggle a bit. "How do the humans put it... I think any Time Lord who's survived to deal with everything can have a little murder, 'as a treat.' Which, to be clear, was a joke. I make a better thief than I do fertilizer, I'm sure."

"Bold of you to assume I would ever put you in my garden. But yes, I'm well over a thousand and I feel that I've earned a few casual murders by now." Braxiatel was actually getting rather amused at this- almost more so than when she'd seemed terrified of him. Well, there was no need to worry about such silly little things as their manners when he now had the Time Lady named Rodageitmososa so totally and completely under his thumb with the most extensive legally binding document he could come up with in four days. If she tried to fight back- well that didn't matter much now, did it?

"Bold of you to assume you'd succeed in killing me." She gave a cheeky wink. He probably could. But he'd certainly need to make a lot more of an effort than he might have done before. "-But apparently I've just signed off on your right to try."

"Oh, not necessarily you. We'll see." That implication still wasn't much better, but definitely a start.

"Well, this is the start of a dysfunctional collaboration. Couldn't expect more! I assume you know how to reach me..." Roda pushed herself up to her feet with a genuine grin and gathered up her coat, stretching out after a long time sitting down.

He looked closely at her signature on the screen. Written in Old High- interesting. "Yes, I will find you when I need you."

"Brilliant." Her face turned serious for a moment. "Look, I know you aren't the friendly sort, but for what it is worth... Thanks. I appreciate having a little... direction, right now."

"You're welcome," he nodded quietly, over another taste of wine. Still not really acknowledging her.

Roda left in silence, smiling. The door swung shut behind her and left Braxiatel in peace with his wine and a lovely painting. He'd need to look up her biodata and make a plasti-disc for later- disabling the mansion security just for her was the equivalent of turning off a bug zapper for the sake of a single mosquito- which were both hazards, after all. And sort through all this paper. That part was just going out of his way to annoy her, but it did still leave quite the mess.

Perhaps speak to Bernice about when and how they were going? Or was that too early-

But the point still stood.

She had a new job.

He had a new disposable.

Really, they were winners all around.