[@Xandrya]

[i]Donny lived in many places. Mostly various small homes and apartments, so that his location couldn't be pinpointed. Whenever he traveled in his van, he did so by night and at high speed, avoiding police routes. There was no primary base of operations, only safehouses stocked with everything he needed to carry out his job. The place he took Lily to was a high rise apartment. The desk clerk ducked below the counter and began whistling loudly as Donny dragged the hostage chair through the lobby and to the elevator. Chances are everyone that worked here was on Donny's payroll, and the mere absurd notion of alerting the authorities probably only entered their thoughts during early morning bad dreams. 

Donny's taste in music was bad. His taste in décor was good.

[img]https://s31.postimg.org/i6j69uiez/real_pad.png[/img]

He must have been fond of crimson. Figures. There was also a bong, yoga DVDs, and some accented candles on a table. No wonder the man could be so damn mellow and ruthless at the same time. He was one of those "inner peace" freaks, who disconnected from their negative emotions as easily as they disconnected their phone from a charger. He'd prop Lily in front of a nice big television and tune it to the news as he spoke.
[/i]

[color=f26522]"Don't yuh worrah, missus. Ah ain' that bad, ayuh. Ah'm not killin' nobodah if Mistah Red Clah is a no show. Jus' felt like a lil' extrah motivation'd help him smart up an' come fah sure. Heeyuh, have some vittles missus."[/color]

[i]By now Lily had probably guessed that to Donny, words were just another tool to abuse. There was absolutely no way to know when he was telling the truth or lying. He only said what was most useful under the given circumstances. Unless, that's just what he wanted her to think. Or was it? Ugh, what a bastard. On the bright side, there was some real fancy food and drink he was offering.
He sat down on a couch opposite Lily and opened up a jar of beluga caviar, the tin lid popping with freshness. He likewise opened up a fresh bag of rye bread squares, a container of organic cream cheese, and a bottle of thirty year old white wine. He'd try to feed Lily, all the while droning on in his unusual dialect about the most boring shit possible. International sports, minivan paneling, the best kinds of detergents...[/i]