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Hidden 17 days ago Post by Estylwen
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Estylwen The Villainess

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The Blue Feather Reverers


Harriet's Orphanage, Hamlet


Mentions: NA Interactions: Harriet (@SporkoBug)




The boys all sat down on the sofa and loveseats, already looking more visibly comfortable in warmer temperatures. The younger of the boys immediately perked up at the mention of hot drinks, and they allowed themselves to smile.

The older boys, however, were looking amongst each other, talking in hushed whispered, before one turned to Harriet. His clammy hands pulled on his jeans, and there was earnestness in his eyes.

”Miss Talon? We don't want to be compensated. At least, not like this. Please, would you consider hiring us? We all know how to fire a gun, and we don't want to see anything bad happen to you.”

The other boys all nodded their heads in agreement. Life must have been hard for them to be so willing to protect the few bastions of goodness left remaining in Nocturnia. However, they were good and willing boys, ready to take on the responsibilities of men.

As Harriet would consider it, an unexpected noise would break the silence. Her cellphone. If she were to look at the screen, she would see the caller ID read “Nocturnia PD”.

If she decided to pick up the call, a melodious baritone voice would croon on the other end.

”Miss Talon, this is Detective Kingsley with the Nocturnia Police. I had a proposal for you. You see, there's quite a bit of disturbing information coming to light on you. I wanted you the opportunity to get ahead of it, and maybe reduce the sentence coming your way.

“Surrender yourself willingly, confess to your crimes, and we can work out a deal.

“Or… I'll be coming after you with the full force of the PD. Up to you.”



Harriet: W +1.5 P +5
Webb: W +0.5 P +0
Ezra: W +6 P +10 | W -0.5




An Anonymous Email Incoming Across Nocturnia


Mentions: NA Interactions: Emily (@LanaStorm), Bella (@Qia), Glyde (@Estylwen), Leon (@Herald), Asterion (@The Savant), Matthias (@ERode)




The afternoon clouds had yet to depart, almost seemingly oppressive over the city. Despite the gloom and mystery they brought, work still had to be done. And for Cyrus, that meant sending out a few fish hooks in the stream. His intel was good, he knew. Now? If he could turn a profit on that, all the better.

In the next few minutes, emails were sent out separately to Emily of the Blue Bloods, Bella of the Red Rose Syndicate, Glyde of the Del Guarde, Asterion of the Kairo Mafia, Leon of the 2nd Division, and Matthias of the Order.

The email read as follows:




Emily: W +3.5 P +7


The Invasion of Merryland


Merryland


In collaboration with @ERode
Mentions: NA Interactions: Matthias and the Order (@ERode)





Merryland was quiet today.

Too quiet.

Residents went about their daily business. Shanking a person here, selling or taking drugs there. Pawnshop owners turning a blind eye to obviously stolen goods. Drunken brawls in the midday light. Homeless people slumped against the wall, bearing the cold weather in their tattered coats.

Del Guarde personnel patrolled the area in black vehicles, dressed in fake cop uniforms. Convincing enough from a distance. However, their weapons were certainly real.

It was quiet. But, some would say, not for long…

The Order came surreptitiously. Since the takeover by the Del Guarde, both illicit and artistic activities within Merryland had to be pushed further underground, and the once thriving music scene was forced to keep quiet under the gaze of the men in black. Junk Valley, certainly, was no longer a popular hang-out spot for the wannabe gangsters, and the last few people who were killed in the Bottom Barrel were killed by cops, a quick burst of gunfire silencing dissidence.

So it was simple. Where the Del Guarde sought to enact control over the community, instilling an order that ran counter to the culture of Merryland, those that sought Enlightenment promised to allow such expressions to flourish. After all, though the Industrial Revolution was one of the grand eras of humanity, so too was the Renaissance, that period of time where scientists, philosophers, artists, musicians, all sought to surpass antiquity, to test the limits of their capabilities. Pamphlets were passed, as were QR codes. Would Merryland remain naught more but another crime-infested slum, another Pauper Town? Would they let this winter remain, guarding their tongue lest they lose their lives?

Foolish. That was how art truly died. Not through steel entering heart or brain, but through fear silencing the passions of the mind.

It wasn't long before Del Guarde caught wind of this interference from the Order. It was everything they feared. So, obviously, there was only one thing to do. The patrollers picked up pamphlets of their own, and kept their ears to the ground. If the Order was going to organize any type of gathering, Del Guarde would know.

And then, they would act.

Where could they gather, after all, except the Bottom Barrel? It was an open meeting, for all those in Merryland to voice their dissent and complaints, to express whatever they’ve bottled up. Emotion was anathema to rationality, but that didn’t mean that it was necessarily something to seal away. It could be guided. It could be used.

So of course, in the evening, the people gathered, trickling in over successive hours. Officially, the venue was offering discounted drinks. Unofficially…well, there was a reason why the dress code that night was ‘Masquerade’.

Soon, at least five members of the Del Guarde intermingled in the party, dressed the part as well. More were stationed outside in case things got out of hand.

Their goal?

Arrest as many people as they could if things got a bit too active. And, of course, arrest the hosts at the right time.

It was of course, active from the get go, when the first performance was that of them bringing out an effigy of a pig dressed like a cop and setting it aflame while a half-naked man hammered nails into the burning straw. Strobe lights struck like thunderclaps as others performed their own arts upon a rotating stage, from visceral freestyle rap to esoteric interpretive dance.

There was a seething resentment there, one that further heightened with every performance, the vibrant, bristling crowd jostling around the undercover Del Guarde as they hooted and hollered. No fear this time, no restraint!

It was a pressure cooker. And the Order was powering it.

Thought it was certainly a shock to the system to see the utter hate that the people had for the pretend-cops, that's what they were at the end of the day: pretend cops. Del Guarde had a much bigger agenda than appeasing some peasants.

They wouldn't make a move, not unless this crowd got riotous and truly violent. Of course, Del Guarde also tried to look a little more carefully for the organizers. The Order had to go.

The night continued, but once things kicked off, it became a self-perpetuating cycle. The energy was feverish, infecting both regulars at the Bottom Barrel and residents of Merryland who had simply been drawn in with the promise of pizza and performances. There was no doubt that the Order had sponsored the event, but how much of a role did they play in organizing it?

Masked as all the partygoers were, who could tell, really?

It was becoming evident, however, that the intensity of the meeting had reached a boiling point. Alcohol had gotten into some people’s systems. Their friends’ opinions had gotten into others' systems. Animosity bloomed like steam from a nuclear reactor. And then, the trigger.

All lights and music turned off, and the projected screens switched to reveal a collection of photos. Military-grade weapons wielded by the Del Guarde. The type of plane that flew overhead just last week, the package that was parachuted down. The identity of some of these ‘cops’, social media accounts revealing how their entire family was outside of Nocturnia.

A voice sounded out across the darkness.

“THE DEL GUARDE ARE MILITARY!”

Alright, that was enough. The hidden Del Guarde glanced at one another, some murmuring into radios, others pulling gas masks from a bag. Then, it was go time.

Some of the Del Guarde that had been stationed outside burst through the doors, firing tear gas canisters from launchers. Very quickly, the building was filled with choking smoke.

And the Del Guarde within the building began picking off the roudier attendants, arresting them with zip ties and dragging them outside. Even if they snagged one actual Order out of this, it was fine. And the rest? Fine ‘em, put ‘em on house arrest. This district was under military occupation, after all. They had to learn who was really in charge.




Wherever Matthias was, he wasn't there for long. A group of masked people broke into his office and took his at gunpoint, throwing him into the back of an SUV and peeling off. Their getaway vehicle lacked any license plate or obvious markers, making it harder to track.

Matthias eventually found himself dragged out of the SUV and shoved into a wooden chair in the shambles of a dusty safe house, windows boarded up and light offered only by a single floodlight on the floor. His hands and feet were bound in place, restricting his movements.

Among the shadows in the corner of what might have been a living room, a single figure approached, crossing her arms over her punk black outfit. Anna D'Rochelle, or better known as Phade, loomed over Matthias.

”Well, well, the ‘prophet' himself.” She said, snake bite piercings framing a contemptuous smile.

”My boss has quite an interest in you, Lodestar. Why don't we start with some easy questions, hm? Let's start with your real name.”

Her smile quirked slightly. ”And you can tell me about this… expansion you've got going on with your little cult.”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, he knew he should’ve set up all that annoying stuff like guards and all that! God, why on earth did he think he’d be harder to find without a face than with? The only thing that he ought to be grateful for was the fact that they didn’t just gun him down right where he stood, but wasn’t this fucking terrible too? C’mon Matt, breathe, c’mon…

He tried to breathe, but it wasn’t like his lungs really functioned like actual lungs anyways. Which was good, because his heart didn’t really function like a regular heart either, so as long as he kept his movements stable, it was basically impossible to tell just what he was feeling in that moment. Physically, at least.

Mentally? He was fucked. Could only hope the Order continued to follow his orders once the upper echelon realized he was missing.

But first, this one before him required his attention. How should he approach this? Casual? Hard-boiled? Super compliant? Pull off the mask? Hrm…

“My real name is on our faith’s website,” Matthias said, doing his best to keep his tone even. “And as for the Order’s expansion…what reason do I need, other than to get rid of the cops bordering my territory? You look like the sort that’d enjoy Merryland as it was; it’s a better place without gung-ho pigs watching every corner.”

Matthias could hear the grumbling of guards and the shift of rifles in tight grips. Phade stared him Matthias with a flat stare, before rolling her eyes, hand on her hip.

”Hot out the box and you're already giving me attitude. But… no matter.”

Phade reached for one of the chairs scattered in the darkness of the room, sliding it across worn wood and sitting down with a thump in front of Matthias. Her pistol was upholstered, and she pulled out the magazine, drawing up one of the bullets. The gun was reholstered as she held up the bullet for Matthias to inspect.

”What am I holding here, Lodestar?”

“A bullet.”

Matthias would feel his insides turn cold and airy as Phade suddenly stuck her hand through his chest, holding the phased bullet directly inside his beating heart.

”And, tell me, what would happen if I were to let go of this bullet inside your body?”

He shrugged, despite himself. Gyfts functioned in many differing ways. One could never be certain how exactly they functioned.

That, of course, was entirely just a logical veneer. After all, Matthias was currently squeezing his pelvic muscles as hard as possible in order to keep his urine inside his body rather than inside his pants.

There was a cold gaze in Phade's eyes. ”So. Your plans for expansion. The real reason. You're not a mafia. Or are you?

“Where are you expanding? And when? And please, give me a bullshit answer. I want to see how a bullet lodged in your heart kills you.”


Thankfully, when even his eyelids were an amorphous substance that only occasionally appeared, it was supremely difficult to tell whether his eyes were closed or not in that instance. Even as he could feel the iciness of Phade’s eyes creep into his gas-skull, Matthias still found solace in the darkness granted by closing his eyes.

He had to gather himself. She had no clue after all, about who he was, if she couldn’t even be bothered to check the Order of Enlightenment’s website. It was a rush job, no doubt, orchestrated by someone who hadn’t even considered him to be on the radar until the Order had claimed Pauper Town. The thing then, was whether or not to tell the fabricated truth, to tell a convincing lie, or to tell the actual truth.

The prophet quieted his mind.

“The Order is an organization, in the end. The ‘mafias’ make their money through drug sales. The ‘police’ make their money through contracts with for-profit prisons. The Order, by comparison, makes money from the donations of our followers.” It was hard to gesticulate, but the smoke that constituted his head curled, in a way that seemed intentional yet meaningless. “Money’s hard to come across when it’s spent on drugs or bail. Del Guarde’s closest and an active threat, considering the Commissioner’s got it out for me. So, you get it, right?”

Matthias shrugged.

“And if you don’t, we run private schools. Never too late to start learning.”

Phade smirked, staring at him a long moment more before withdrawing her hand, the bullet glinting between her fingertips.

”Well, it just so happens I'm aware of your people making an appearance in Merryland. So here's how this is gonna work. You call off your people. You promise to leave Merryland alone. And maybe, I'll release you.

“You have to realize Del Guarde has ways of making you hurt, starting with you and I, right here.”


Her smirk widened slightly. The Lodestar should be made aware that Del Guarde made a move on him just as much as he made a move on Del Guarde.

“I can’t imagine that the Order’s been all that clandestine about their activities,” he responded. “I’d be worried if you weren’t aware, honestly.”

Fucking Adel, what was he paying him for if he couldn’t even warn him about an imminent kidnapping?

“And the thing about cults,” he continued without missing a step, “is that they’re easy to point and direct, but notoriously hard to stop. You can probably hurt me a lot. It’d definitely suck. But I can’t exactly stop them with a snap of my fingers, so…”

A tendril of a smile crept on his features, then disappeared as if dispersed by the wind.

“…how about a different deal?”

Phade raised an eyebrow. ”I'm listening, ghost boy.”

“The other mafias are out for blood, and no one’s gonna want to play nice with the Del Guarde,” Matthias replied. “Hell, half the reason why I’m attacking Merryland now is because Asterion reached out with intentions towards taking 93rd Street. You can see how things are gonna go real poorly for the cops here soon, yeah?”

Or maybe she didn’t. After all, she called him a ‘ghost boy’ rather than a ‘smoke boy’, which clearly indicated that this woman here had no clue what a ghost truly was.

“Hand over Merryland and give up Yellow Brick. Make it convincing, of course. Real dramatic last stand of a brave precinct. In return, I can ensure that your folks will be the first to set foot upon Heavy Crossguard. Heck, give me a couple of weeks extra, and I can even help relocate you to Smoke Risers or North Battleford.” Make them a problem for the ‘real’ cops and all. Matthias himself didn’t care for northern Nocturnia yet. He could consume the entirety of the south first. “How’s that sound, ghost girl?”

Phade stared for a moment, before she shook her head and rolled her eyes. Standing, she gestured to one of the guards, who brought a tripod with a little camera on top of it. It was positioned to capture Matthias' hopeless state.

Phade was passed a mask, which she slipped on. ”Shame, I liked you. But it seems we'll be sticking with plan one, sending a message to your people.”

And, as one of the guards pressed the record button, there was a click of a switchblade in Phade's hand as she stood over Matthias, prepared to make him scream.


Matthias: W -2 P -4 | W +2.5 P +8


The Spies of Silverside


White Pine


Mentions: A few small mentions Interactions:Adel and Spies (@Yankee)




The spies worked quickly in White Pine. Their contact, a sweaty Thorned Rose pusher, sat in one of the cathedrals on a day with no service, prepared to confess to the Silverside spy.

For a price, of course.

”I can tell you what the new drug, Sugercrush, does to people. It'll cost you, though. Boss'll have my head if he ever found out.”


The Cost of the Secret: 2 W


Del Guard Territory





As the spies kept their ears to the ground in Del Guarde territory, they overheard an interesting conversation. Two Del Guarde dressed as cops, standing in front of a hot dog stand, having a quick bite before they would hit the road again. Their voices were low, but they might not notice anyone standing in the line behind them…

”The Order is breathing down our necks. I'm just waiting for Sarge to give the green light, and we'll wipe them off the face of Nocturnia.”

His companion turned to him. ”Relax, man. They're not even the reason why we're here. You know what Sarge's little earworm said. A new drug ripe for the taking in Heavy Crossguard. We make that territory ours, we get all those drugs. Sell ‘em off, make a quick buck, and maybe figure out if it's the same as what those Tweakers were high on. If that's the case-”

He got smacked by the other. ”Bro, keep your voice down. Come on, let’s get outta here…”

And they wolfed down what remained of their dogs, heading back to their patrol car.




Heavy Crossguard





As Swift joined the rest of the crew in Heavy Crossguard, they had front row seats to the dirty business of the district. Each warehouse was filled with all kinds of goods that were constantly moving - it was impossible to keep track of it.

Unfortunately, to the trained eyes of the spies, nothing exceptional stood out. That either meant one of two things. Either Poppy's child was being held incredibly secretively, or…

Noah wasn't here. Which meant Heavy Crossguard was a dead end in this regard.






Canary's Offices, Silverside


Speak of the Devil And the Devil appears




It was maybe a half hour after the meeting had been adjourned in Adel's offices when a familiar tap of polished shoes came walking through the front door. Cyrus, dressed in a tan overcoat over a well-fitted suit, entered the building. There was a smoke between his lips, and his stance was relaxed.

His eyes found Griffon almost immediately. ”Hey hon’, how are things on this side of town?”

He took another couple steps forward, tucking his hands in his pants pockets. His smile was easy. ”Is the boss in by any chance? Got a little something for him, his ears only. Something to do with those bombs in Nickel earlier today…”


Adel: W +3 P +5
Asterion: W +3 P +5
Bella: W +2 P +6




Laterdale Jazz Bar, Laterdale


In collaboration with @Herald
Mentions: NA Interactions: Leon (@Herald)





”I think you'll find if anything I'm traveling light compared to what I could bring,"
Leon


The bouncer visibly paled, lips drawing back in a snarl as the detective pushed past him. Lucky for everyone in the den of the bar, there was a lobby filled with jazz memorabilia that separated the entrance door from the second door that led to the den, tables and stage. That gave the bouncer more than enough time.

The bouncer turned away, reaching into his coat and pressing a button on a device. Immediately, red lights flared up along the walls of the bar.

The detective was fast, but the cockroaches knew how to scramble faster. When the detective and his team entered the smoke-filled den of the jazz bar, all that remained were the two musicians playing their instruments as if nothing had happened, and Vincent, relaxed with his arm over the backrest and a smoke between his lips in the central VIP booth. Every single other audience member had suddenly, and strangely vanished.

Vincent looked over casually. ”Detective MacAoidh! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes.”

As Vincent spoke, he did a sneaky little thing. Leon would notice the air grew slightly heavy around him as the aether attempted to discern his thoughts.

(Proof 1 Proof 2 Vincent: 1, Leon: 2)

Leon kept himself professional as he entered the building, though he was impressed with the speed of their response. He may not have had any intentions of arresting anyone else, but seeing the right faces in the right crowd could still have done wonders for his case. As the air grew heavy around him, his brow furrowed and there was a slight halt to his step. His instincts felt something off, but there was no way for him to understand what was going on. All he knew is that it didn’t appear to be affecting him beyond a feeling like deja vu. He shook it off, it must have just been nerves.

”Vincenzo Accardo, I am Detective Leon MacAoidh of Nocturnia Police Department. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you politely to come with us down to the station for an interview. I was going to say I would rather not cause any undue embarrassment by bringing out the handcuffs,” he looked around pointedly for a moment, “but it seems this place is not as… popular as I had been told.” He gave the man a fake smile, well aware that this place had likely been full of people just minutes ago.

Vicente kept his face as placid as possible, though the static shock he got from a failed attempt to discern the detective's thought was… unpleasant, to say the least.

No matter. He still had his rights.

The low tone of the jazz brought an almost liminal feel to the space as Vincent didn't move an inch from his spot, shooting a slanted smirk right back at Leon.

”I believe I have the right to be informed why exactly you're going through all this trouble for little me, Detective MacAoidh.”

”Of course you do, as a matter of fact, you have a whole list of rights I’d be happy to read to you and very likely will before we exit this building. You and I both also know that once those words get spoken, this all becomes a train of one thing happening after another with official charges and paperwork,” Leon said, continuing to smile back at him, “I take it then you do not want a free ride to the station to answer a few questions and would rather be detained?”

The utter disdain and contempt rippled across Vincent's face for a fraction of a second. Indeed, the detective had him with that one.

His smile twisted, taking a long drag on his cigarette, before he stamped it down in a crystal tray, the slightest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

”The Commissioner has you doing her chores, does she?”

His head shook a little for dramatic flair, before he stood, hands raised to the sides casually to show he wasn't dumb enough to hold anything like a gun.

He moved slowly towards Leon, shrugging with that slanted smirk again. ”Alright, I'll bite. Let's go.

“Been a while since anyone's had the gall to interrupt my musicians’ performances, anyways.”


“Well, my superiors have often noted in my personnel reviews that I am a prideful man with little consideration for others… hobbies,” Leon said, stepping back and putting his arm out to point Vincent towards the door. “The lead cruiser if you please, don’t mind the gentlemen with the shotguns, reports have been going out across the police bands of some rather extreme amounts of violence occurring nearby and so I felt it wise to bring along a little more protection for your personal safety as a citizen.”

”Oh, my personal safety,” Vincent said dryly. ”I'm flattered.”

Soon, Vincent found himself in front of the lead cruiser, and entered it without a fuss. With everyone settled, it was time to return to Burberry.


Leon: W +3.5 P +7, Vincent W +5 P +11




White Pine


Mentions: ??? Interactions: NA




Flint sat as his desk in the evening of the day, staring out at the glinting neon lights of Nocturnia. A glass of wine was absent-mindedly swirled in his hand.

There was a knock at his office door, and he turned in his swivel chair. ”Come in.”

An older man, beat red and out of breath, stood half-way in his door. ”Sir. The crows have flown.”

A beat of silence, before the glass of wine in Flint's grip shattered, red liquid splattering on the floor and glass scattering.

”You've confirmed this?”

Then man nodded, staring at bit fearfully. ”Yes, sir. It's confirmed.”

Flint shook his head. ”I told her… I told her.”

“Your orders, sir…?”

Flint sighed, shaking his head as he stared back out the window. ”...We observe. They knew what they were getting into.

“And, get me a new glass of wine. Please.”







Laterdale


Mentions: Leon (@Herald) Interactions: NA




Matteo pushed his white locks back, a smoke in between his lips as he stared at the catastrophe at the Laterdale Jazz Bar from across the street, half-hidden in the alleyway.

The cops, more specifically, that straight-laced MacAoidh took The Boss. Matteo knew they didn't have anything. Couldn't have anything. But the train had to keep moving, despite everything. Despite their setbacks.

He turned away from the street, walking deeper into the alleyway where his chauffeur was waiting. He pressed a phone to his ear.

”Yeah, they got him. You still in position?”

A pause.

”Yes? Then let's get a move on. All lights green. Let's go.”


The Thorned Roses Attempt to Capture Highpoint
Vincent: W -5 P -10
Antonia: W +3 P +5
Glyde: W +1.5 P +6
Pops: W +1.5 P +5


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Hidden 16 days ago Post by Qia
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Avatar of Qia

Qia A Little Weasel

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago


Mentions: Vincent (@Estylwen), Asterion (@The Savant) Interactions: Emily (@LanaStorm), Emilia (NPC)



High Hopes in Highfair


They rolled in overnight, the thugs lended to Clash by the Commissioner, they weren’t trained spies or diplomats of any sort. Muscle, the type that Emily admired, the type with big biceps and iron fists that smashed skinny drug dealers’ heads in and collected loot. Maybe there should have been more prep or maybe she didn’t care, getting shit done was her motto and testing the waters was also in the cards for dear Detective Clash.

The stall was set up over night, designer goods for not designer prices the men looked like models selling tiny shirts, crop tops, bags and more to the consumer-frenzied residents of the district who gobbled up designer swag though this attention did not bode well for the mafia in control, twas neither high nor a fair show of force by the Blue Bloods yet nothing was fair in the city the fabled Del Guarde would see that shortly.

With her people captured and eventually escorted out of the turf thus ended the short-lived disruption campaign Emily had set out for her ‘enemy’. Next time she would come deep with tanks, SWAT and death and despair with a hint of chaos should things ever escalate to such a bloody and dangerous extreme. Such a world would exist if a webb slinger found itself flying about in that district but that was a different beast to tame. Of course as the Iron Rose governed the line to Detective Clash always remained open for parlay.

Speaking of.

The subtle crackling of the connection permeated the room, soon followed by the unmistakable sound of someone responding on the other end.

“Detective Newport,” Isabella articulated with smooth clarity, her voice imbued with the blend of affability and the undercurrent of intimidation. “I believe we have a few pressing issues to go over. Your recent… endeavours in Highfair have not escaped my attention and I deemed it only fitting to extend the courtesy of a dialogue before we consider any additional measures.”

The sound of loud crunching was heard on the other end of the encrypted line before a response came back to the Mafisio. “Hey girl, you should of copped that Mariana crop top they were selling. That shit would of looked good on you!” The voice came back, smooth like honey but there was truth to it designer ain't cheap unless it's from a blue blood! Clash stood in her Gold Rim penthouse with little but a sports bra, shorts and socks as she chomped down on a pantina shiny green apple.

The corner of Isabella’s lips curled into an almost imperceptible smirk, a sign of her amusement at the detective's audacious indifference.

“Highfair has a profound appreciation for sophistication, Detective, and as for your men…let’s just say they decidedly faltered in their execution of such.” She allowed the silence to stretch, the subtle pulsation of music echoing in the backdrop.

“Mmmm…” Emily chomped on her apple a bit more as she took in the woman's words. “You must of a been a naughty girl recently if the commissioner is sending me after you. My guys are more tuned to kicking ass than like selling stuff? So how do you want to resolve this, you know I’m super reasonable. Hate beating up biz but you gotta work with me babes.” Emily leaned up against her kitchen table top pondering the situation.

“Naughty, you say?” Isabella pondered. “It's quite interesting how you frame it as if I was the one encroaching on unfamiliar territory. Something quite naughty as you so nicely put it.” She clicked her tongue with an air of disapproval before pressing on, her voice slightly chilling.

“As for how I’d like to resolve this…I appreciate reason, Detective. It’s an admirable quality, especially in a city with such short supply of it.” Her crimson orbs, though they could not be seen, narrowed with intent. “But I believe there’s a larger issue at play here in actuality. You must be familiar with Vincenzo Accardo, yes?”

“I meant your drug trade Isabella, if anything us showing up helped you but what about the Boss of Throned Roses? Pray tell what the hottest, meanest, strongest boss in the city has to do with this?” She inquired with peaked curiosity.

“Your enthusiasm is duly noted,” Isabella remarked, skillfully circumventing Emily’s reference to the illicit drug trade. She had no intention of entertaining the detective’s provocations, especially when the subject danced dangerously close to her operations. Instead, she leaned into her calculated redirection.

“As for Vincent,” she elaborated, her tone deepening into a more sombre timbre, “his curiosity concerning your matters is far from accidental. The Thorned Roses readily capitalize on discord to advance their schemes. You may regard their maneuvers as trivial distractions, but I promise you that Vincent’s scrutiny is seldom misdirected. His aspirations possess the propensity to evolve into something more…deeply personal for those who don’t tread carefully.”

Pausing, Isabella allowed her words to sink in.

“You and I, Detective, are far too valuable to be relegated to mere chess pieces in his game. So perhaps it’s more worthwhile to discuss how to ensure the Thorned Roses’ roots don’t grow too deep.”

Chomp.

Another bite came from the apple. “Mmff… Well let's hear it then, no one is off the table from the commissioners justice but I'm hesitant to I don't know attack the king of Nocturia ya feel me?” The detective chirped back.

“Attack the king of Nocturnia? I wouldn’t dare suggest such a bold and unsophisticated move. However,” Isabella retorted, her voice dwindling to a chilling, subdued timbre, “as much as I’d prefer to let him gamble with his illusions of grandeur, there are matters far more personal at stake.”

The raven-haired woman exhaled a soft sigh, feigning a subtle air of anxious reluctance.

“Vincent has someone close to me- a piece I cannot afford to lose. And while you might hesitate to make a move against him, I assure you, you are already part of his game. His eyes aren’t just on my domain; they’re on the Blue Bloods, your operations, perhaps even your commissioner

“So here’s what I propose: an exchange of interests. You bring me whatever scraps of intel your men have uncovered about Vincent’s recent moves-anything that suggests what he values most or where he’s vulnerable. In return, I ensure Highfair’s borders remain firmly intact, and I grant you my insight into how Vincent operates. You might find it useful when he inevitably turns his attention to you.”

A yawn is returned to the Rose’s detailed plan and plot.

“I like games Iz, but I also like games that are exciting and not boring. Intel is a nerds game, and I’m not a nerdy bitch.” Clash responded in her clash ways.

“So he has someone you love, a boyfriend, husband or mistress?” The detective giggles mischievously. “How about I help you bust him out of Vincenzo’s perfectly sculpted Mafisio hands and you cut me into some of your biz or give me one of your enemies you hate so I can take them to jail. Nocturnia’s prison is just a resort for criminals, so it's a win-win but you didn't hear that from me.” So the counter was presented.

Isabella’s gaze shifted to the glow of the cityscape beyond her window as if lost in thought.

“Since you’ve been so delightfully direct, I’ll return the courtesy. Yes, he has someone I care about-family, in fact. And as much as I despise acknowledging Vincent’s hold, I won’t deny the truth of it.”

“Either way, cutting you into my business is no trivial ask. But…a rival? That’s a different conversation entirely. The question becomes whether you want one worth your time, or one who won’t make it past the first skirmish in your little crusade.”

“Gimme someone easy, need a collar if it isn't going to be you. Commissioner doesn't care, or cut me in. I’m a better business partner than any of the Mafia, they will all betray you in the end to get ahead. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to max my pension girl.” Her eyes gaze to the skyline, her private island awaited thousands of miles away.

“Very well. Allow me to draw your attention to Asterion Kairo, the illustrious figure Nickel deems a ‘visionary.’” She pivoted away from the window to her desk which held an intricately bound file that contained the detailed dossier on the individual she had just named. Her designated sacrificial lamb.

“Kairo’s Echo Chamber currently stands as the foundational pillar of his empire, an enterprise entirely constructed upon exploitation, deceit, and, undeniably, vice. Excluding him from the equation would not only fulfill your commissioner’s desire for retribution but also reinstate a semblance of much-needed stability in the city.”

Not that Bella wasn’t aware that she was one of the reasons for that instability. Nonetheless, she pressed her lips together, her tone now imbued with the air of someone sharing an invaluable secret with a confidant.

“Kairo’s exact abilities remain somewhat a mystery, but I have enough intelligence on him to ascertain he is far from an ordinary opponent, if you catch my drift. So, it would be wise to prevent him from using whatever he has against you by taking any necessary precautions.”

“D’aww c’mon that is not easy, you don’t know his power. He’s a fuck-you distance away from where I’m at, in a rich spot too. Easy my dear Izzy, is our young strapping Kairo wrapped up in NPD caution tape to take him away. So I could help you take Nickel with some manpower, you keep the district and hand over our vice addicted friend. A big win for you, and maybe me. Or or or, just give me something monetary wise when we spring your lover. I wanna narrow it down to one or the other. If I was you I’d want to save my man… but I’d also like to have him on a big comfy silk bed in Nickel, so it’s a tough call for sure!” Emily looked at a big ass map she had sitting on her kitchen planning what to do next.

“Okay, here’s what I propose now: I’ll assist in gathering the intel and resources needed to tip the balance against Kairo. In return, you ensure that Vincent’s grip weakens, starting with any connections he might be exploiting.” The woman was sure she couldn’t be the only one who wanted to take the man down a notch.

“Sure Izzy, but who’s your man though?” Emily wasn’t known for taking boyfriends, was she?

“Who he is less important than what he represents. A reminder that in this city vulnerabilities are weapons waiting to be exploited,” Isabella replied. “Today, it’s my family. Tomorrow? It could be yours.”

“I mean what’s he look like, what’s his name. We’re breaking him out right doll~?”

“His name is Mathieu. Mathieu Delacroix.” Isabella admitted, her tone softening for a fraction of a second before hardening again. “ And while I appreciate your enthusiasm, this is going to be far from a simple jailbreak. Vincent doesn’t make mistakes. If we move recklessly, it could cost far more than just Mathieu’s freedom.”

“We’ll get him out, pinkie promise. I’ll call you when I know more, and likewise for ya right?”

“Of course.”




As Isabella concluded her conversation with Detective Newport, she reclined in her chair, her eyes drawn upward towards the ceiling. A long sigh escaped her lips, suggesting a moment of reflection. Her meticulously curated facade, often a mask of composure, momentarily wavered, revealing a glimpse of deeper emotions swirling within her—exhaustion, frustration, or perhaps an unsettling blend of both.

The door to her office opened with a creak, allowing Emilia to enter the space. She carefully navigated the polished floor, pausing just a hair's breadth from the imposing desk that dominated the room. “I trust the conversation was…illuminating?” the auburn-haired woman inquired, her voice imbued with curiosity.

Isabella turned her head slightly. “Illuminating, yes. Reassuring, no.” She motioned toward a nearby chair. “Sit, Emilia. We need to debrief.”

Without hesitation, Emilia took the seat, her posture straight and attentive. “How cooperative was she?”

Isabella let out a soft, sardonic chuckle. “Cooperative enough—for now. She’s agreed to assist with Kairo, though her terms are, as expected, self-serving. She wants a prize for her trouble, either monetary compensation or a target she can parade in front of her superiors. A collar, as she so elegantly put it.”

Emilia arched a brow. “And you offered her Kairo?”

“I offered her the opportunity to focus her attention on him, yes,” Isabella replied. “For all her bravado, Newport has no love for Vincent, but she also has no real understanding of the depth of his power. Kairo, on the other hand, provides a useful distraction. If she’s eager to remove him from the equation, so much the better for us.”

“And what about Vincent? He’s not the type to be appeased by half-measures, Bella. Sending Newport after Kairo might buy us time, but it won’t satisfy him.”

“No, it won’t. But it will disrupt his plans. Vincent wants Kairo eliminated, which means Kairo poses a threat to him somehow. By involving Newport, we shift the focus onto Nickel and force Vincent to play a more defensive game. It’s not about satisfying him—it’s about outmaneuvering him.”

Emilia furrowed her brow. “But aren’t we risking giving him too much room to maneuver by letting her interfere in Nickel? Kairo might retaliate—and hard.”

Isabella didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she rose from her chair and approached the window, staring out at the glittering lights of Highfair. Her reflection in the glass seemed almost spectral, a ghost of the woman she had been before the burden of her family’s legacy and her father’s betrayal shaped her into the Iron Rose. “Risk is inherent in every move, Emilia. My father once told me that the strongest player on the board is the one who turns a weakness into a weapon. He believed that until the day I buried him for his own treachery.”

She turned back to face Emilia, her expression shadowed by the burden of memory.

“Mathieu isn’t just my brother; he’s the last thread to the life I had before all of this. I will not let Vincent sever it. But if I misstep—if we misstep—then I may well condemn him to the same fate as my father. But that is the weight we carry with every decision.”

Emilia nodded gradually. “So…while Vincent focuses on Newport and Nickel, we’ll hopefully gain the breathing room needed to find Mathieu and prepare for the next move?”

Isabella inclined her head. “Exactly.”

She watched as Emilia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her remaining unease evident but not expressed. Instead, the other woman exhaled slowly.

“Understood. I'll head out to Kairo's myself then and see what I can find, and continue having the others gather intelligence on Vincent’s movements. If there’s any opening to secure Mathieu, you’ll still be the first to know.”
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Hidden 16 days ago Post by LanaStorm
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LanaStorm

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Emily Newport



NOCTURNIA POLICE DEPARTMENT PRESS CONFERENCE


Standing in front of the media was Clash herself, dressed in her police blues typical for a blue blood. The formal uniform left her tattoos covered as she adjusted the microphone on the stand. Flanked by her officers the men were dressed for war just like the woman wanted, chaos always bred opportunity as much as it bred death, despair, and more. The flashing of cameras dazzled and enamored the young drug-dealing and stealing cop, a perfect white smile spread onto her face before she opened her speech to the media. It was called quickly without too much fanfare or why, what could Nocturnia's perfect detective have for the vultures this time around?

"Good day everyone, my name is Emily Newport and today my division has conducted the biggest raid in Nocturnia's history. Throughout the last few months, my team has investigated and uncovered criminal elements in North Battleford. This morning tactical teams struck and raided organized crime groups operating from the industrial area, a large number of drugs and weapons were recovered and of course, scumbags were taken to Nocturnia's jail. The Nocturnia Police Department remains committed to keeping the streets safe and cleaning up those who wish to bring us back into lawlessness. Thank you!"

With that she left the podium, leaving the media teased and frenzied about what would be next from the dynamic detective. They all wanted more, the next scoop something to put on the front page. The front page would be pictures of the carnage and destruction of these thugs and their drug labs or the police lineup. The Battleford 20, trial would be set later in the month.

Kicking ass and getting paid, two of Clash's favorite things.

Blue Bloods invade North Battleford.


AN EMAIL TOO FAR


While at her desk, Clash worked on her next project. Remotely manned turrets around orphanages, any spider or human that got too close and took one of the armband ID'd kids would get blasted into kid-snatcher hell. Or so, that's how it would play out on paper but the turrets could also shoot her enemy's vehicles.

Snickering and giggling alike she sketched out more concepts and schematics on her busy desk when a pang from an email hit her inbox.

A quick review of the email had the woman clicking delete, two Microsoft clips with NPD hats grabbed the email and physically escorted it to the deleted bin before it was smited by IT.

"What a scam." She mused, going back to her drawing of a net gun capturing Webb.


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Hidden 16 days ago Post by The Savant
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The Savant The darkening

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🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅸🅾🅽

&
Ⓚⓡⓘⓢⓗ




"If people want to play these games, I will play games," Asterion huffed out while pacing back and forth in his office. Krish was silent along with Kaela and Elara. While Zarek and Varek were outside guarding the office doors and checking with the ground floor guards if there were anyone else in the immediate area of the Kairo Skypscraper.

A fainter cough to attempt to clear the heaviness in the air could be heard, "I believe Kaele should leave if you are going to say something too important ~" the auburn haired woman with big blue doe eyes faintly spoke as she looked over to the neutral character of the room.

The redheaded woman glared though she wasn't able to say anything before Asterion flicked his hand up and held it up as if to say stop. "No one needs to leave, now shut up Elara," he stammered his words in deeper thought while he paced around. Krish followed each step and movement of his friend with his eyes while Elara and Kaela were eyeing each other. They didn't get alone very well because Elara didn't trust how neutral and possibly unloyal Kaela could be.

"Have you thought about hiring more quiet individuals? Possibly ones that do not complain as much?" Kaela decided to be a little bit of a smart ass about the whole ordeal.

Elara scuffed her breath in protest, "How ab---" she was cut short with a growl.

"Can you two please be quiet or LEAVE!? Please. Just leave. I am thinking. I told you that once why do you both think I need to stay that again?" Asterion was trying to figure out why two individuals were going straight for his tower and nightclub. If they were apart of the same company or not. He began to rub his temples while he continued to pace while closing his eyes for a second.

The arburn haired woman stood up, "If you are going to raise your voice like that, I will," she had a prissiness to her voice as she flipped her hair around and left the room. Purposefully slamming the office door.

"E! --- mhm..." he went to shout her name but he bit his tongue to not hear her complain even more than she will later about him raising his voice. Kaela rolled her eyes. Krish sat there like this was a normal Tuesday afternoon.

Asterion waved his hand, "You too, Kaela. Please," his voice was softer for a second with sounding overly stressed. By this point, a thumb was on the one side of his forehead while his fingers were on the other side while he stood by the large bay windows of his office. Without a word, Kaela got up and left, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Rubbing at the bridge for a few seconds before he heard the door close all the way.

"They always remind me why it's nicer to be single, aye?" Krish tried to lighten the mood.

The darker haired man standing by the bay windows let go of the bridge of his nose as his eyes flopped to the side to look at his friend. "You are single because you thought it was a good idea to date three girls that worked here all at the same time and girls talk, Krish," Asterion straightened himself while looking forward to the city while shaking his head with a roll of his eyes.

Krish stood up and gestured his hands out, "And why are you single then boss? Maybe think of something else than work for a hot minute and you could find someone to destress you," Krish came over and poked Asterion on the cheek.

"Do not touch me," Asterion sideyed his best friend.

The redheaded man gestured his hands up as if to declare defeat or he wouldn't do it anymore.

Asterion walked away from the windows and away from Krish to sit down at his desk. Looking at the laptop that was still open and noticing a notification for his emails. "I think we should plow into 93rd and without mercy, dive into Newport," he spoke half mindedly as he opened the email to read it.

You're a lucky winner!

There are certain, shall we say, ‘gems’ in the city. Gems ripe for the taking. Heavy Crossguard is one of those such locations.

There is a certain warehouse in the heart of Heavy Crossguard that is home to a biker gang. Yes, it's true they're subsidized by yet another big player in the city. But what I want to draw your attention to is the hoard of wealth they literally sit on.

Mainly, they have stacks of crates of Sugarcrush, a new drug. And they have a motherlode of stolen materials, such as artifacts from outside the Wall, and rare pieces of art. Even a few slot machines. Vintage wines.

Now, you could search Heavy Crossguard for days on end, trying to find this one particular warehouse. Or.

You could wire a transfer of $10,000 (1 Wealth) to Nocturnia Bank Account Number 35721 003 472951, and I'll tell you exactly where that warehouse is.

Before I forget, you'll want to actually fast. These goods are going to be moved in three days, where someone else will cash them in for money. I would prefer that someone is you.

Looking forward to your continued patronage,

-C

Asterion sat there while reading, getting very quiet, and not even absorbing anything around him. He didn't know if Krish was going off on one of his rants and being chattier than the girls. Shaking his head, "Read this shit," he gestured to his screen.

Krish was on one of his rants though he broke out of it and quickly moved over to Asterion while leaning on the comfy chair behind the big guy's desk. "What?" he seemed curious while he began to read the email right away.

"This person must think the leaders of Nocturnia are idiots... who would fall for that crap? That has to be a trap, right?" Krish looked over to Asterion to confirm that his suspicions weren't wrong that it could be a possible trap.

"I think it is a trap. I will not be surprised if others fall for it. We will be focusing on 93rd for the time being but before that, let's go visit our friends, shall we?" Asterion's midnight blue eyes flicked up to Krish with a smirk to his lips.

Krish grinned, "We shall. I almost forgot about those two," he seemed excited to remember that had two individuals to have some fun with.

Asterion stood up, closing his laptop, and following Krish out of the office to go down the hall to a room where their two friends - the bomb lunatic and the lock picker were located - and when the door opened. Krish and Asterion stepped into the room. They were both tied to chairs in an excessive way, bound, and gagged to stay quiet. "Hello sweethearts~" The lights flicked on which caused Hailey and the military man to be emphasized in a glow while the rest of the room was dark. And the door closed heavily behind him without any help.



Mentions: 93rd Street & Newport
Interactions: Hailey & military man @Estylwen
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Hidden 16 days ago Post by SporkoBug
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SporkoBug The Cosmic Engineer

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Harriet's Orphanage, Hamlet

Interactions: Jack (@Estylwen)
At Harriet's orders, two of the guards headed out of the room and disappeared down the hall, only to reappear rather quickly with drinks for each of the boys before moving to offer Harriet a small glass of what looked to be red wine, but the fruit smell and the soft trail of mist from it, it was mulled wine.
"Ah, you're too kind Vonny." She cooed to her bodyguard before she turned to the boys as they spoke.

She gave a small smile as the boys spoke about not needing pay and just wanting to work, she took a sip from her mulled wine and reveled in the warmth that flooded down her body before she opened her mouth to speak; her phone suddenly chiming off catching her off guard as she moved to put the glass of mulled wine down with a bit of a sneer. "Forgive me, little ones. I need to take this." She said to the boys before she moved to answer the phone with a bemused look on her face.

She listened to the words spoken to her, this 'Detective' seemed so full of himself when it came to her having crimes against her.
"I'm curious to know what crimes you have against me, Detective." She responded calmly, flattening her ears back as the boys could see the silent anger rumble in her coloured eye. "And if it is majorively 'taking kids' away from their families, then you need to look into what really happened." Her voice grew angry for a mere second before turning back to cold and almost emotionless.

"If you think you will dare take those sweet souls back to the places that abused them-" She pushed her chair back as she stood, her wings ruffling angrily as she said so, her tail swishing in anger. She wasn't yelling down the phone, but her voice raised in volume and slightly shifted in tone, "-Be it Sexually, Mentally or Physically; all while your shitstains you call police officers do everything in their power to help the Abuser; you will find yourself sorely mistaken. And if you think I am solely going to give myself up; you mustn't have heard who I am." She rumbled before she hung up on Kingsley before he could get another word in.

There was a moment of silence, as Harriet stared at the table in anger as he sharp nails and claws on either hands dug into the table before she seemed to switch personalities as if the phone conversation never happened.
Her tail moved quickly, pulling the chair back under her as she sat down and picked up her glass and gave a gentle smile to the boys.
"Apologies, you needn't have seen that." She spoke softly.

"I'm aware you do not need money, but everyone who works for me, is paid. We do not do one-sided relationships here; you help me, offering yourselves as soldiers - Although it harms me to think of young ones like you as such - You will be compensated. Yes?" She motioned with her hand slightly, as if gently pushing something away. She waited for the teenagers response patiently, despite the rage through her body bubbling aggressively; wanting to rip and tear at Kingsley as soon as she got close to him.
Webbs' Penthouse, Xaviar Tower, Jeweled Bank

The shower was what he had needed, now he was warm and dry, bundled in the blankets of the master bed.

A bed, he'd never had a bed before.
This Bed was warm.
But he couldn't dwell on that currently, he needed to think of what he was going to do, he had to earn where he resided, after all.

Maybe he'd wait until dusk, when the sun went down so he wasn't going to stick out too much. But would they still be around if he was to wait until then? Many had to sleep, even Mafia had to do so, yes?
He grumbled to himself, stepping out of the blankets on the bed before he moved over to where his fresh clothes were.
Must remember, Thank Ezra. Webb thought to himself as he got dressed and looked over out his window, his spider-butt twitching slightly before he breathed out slowly.

Plan. Action.
Silverside

Webb would admit he had no idea where he was looking, he walked the streets quietly as he kept an eye out; looking around with his ears pricked.
Canary of Silver, where are hiding?
Apartment, White Pines

The Night Before

He stumbled back into his Apartment after his Gig, it wasn't has secret filled as a few of his last ones, his sources were quiet at the moment. Possibly people were planning different things, sure; but so was he. But he needed money.
Money, and people.

He groaned as he dragged himself to the bathroom, he felt like death. The Scent of alcohol drenched most of his clothes and the dusty smell of Weed hung in his hair.
The white haired musician looked at himself in the mirror, watching his reflection look back to him with a cocky smirk that he knew he didn't have on his own face.
"What."
"Look at you. This is the lowest you've been in a while. Let me in and I'll show you real fun, might even get us where we want. Get Alia back, break some necks-"
"Don't Bring up her name. Don't even fucking think about her you retched bastard." The words were venom out of his mouth, he felt queazy and weak, and he wasn't going to fight Bard off in this state. "You stay where the fuck you stand now. I'm going to do this my way."
"Bah, you're no fun."

He opened his medicine cabinet, moving the mirror away from view as he did so. He reached up for a small bottle of pills; swearing internally as he realized he only had a couple pills left.
Shit, and my last doc threw me out because of Bard. How am I going to get rid of him? He thought to himself before he opened the bottle and dropped the two, pink pills into his hand. He closed his eyes and winced as he moved his head back to throw down his pills dry.

He felt his stomach lurch at this action, but at least he wasn't sick...


"They died because of you. You did this to them. She's gone because of you. You should have been killed that day. Should have been you.
Should have been you.
It.
Should.
Have.
Been.
You."


Glade jolted awake holding his head, stifling a loud scream that would almost ring through the entire apartment.
Fuck he needed to stop having those night terrors. He was going to be kicked out again if he continued doing this.

Augh, he was definitely Hung over. Hopefully his bread was still good to eat.
He pulled himself up off his bed and stumbled out into the kitchen and over to the counter. He stared down at the bread in its bag; Mouldy.
Fuck.
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Hidden 15 days ago Post by ERode
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ERode A Spiny Ant

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“That’s enough, Celina.”

The pedestal of arms retracted, bringing him to the ground. The eyes closed too, dissolving into the walls that were once again stone. Blood seeped into the cracks of the floor, no longer any mouths left to slurp it up. Once again, the door was present. And beside Matthias now emerged a trembling woman with clear blue eyes and platinum-blonde hair, hugging herself as if it was only through her own hands that she could keep her form humanoid, distinct.

The Lodestar stood up, shakily. His hand reached up to his head, cupping a stream of smoke and wafting it towards her. Gradually, her tremors ceased, and she let out a deep sigh. “Thank you, Prophet.”

“Did a number on you, mm?” A voice sounded through the door, before a heavy blade sliced through the lock. It swung open without resistance, the woman with an eyepatch stepping through. Blood dried upon her skin and clothes, flaking off with every movement, but she paid it no mind as she bowed in a manner that certainly wasn’t genuine. “Hope it was worth it. Can you even stand?”

“The body is but the puppet of the mind,” was Matthias’s own response. Celina was the crazy sort, but Lenore was the crazier sort. He had to will himself to be stronger. “It’s done?”

“Beat them back, yeah. Less casualties on our side, but that’s just because we got the civilians to absorb most of it.” The one-eyed swordswoman flicked a lighter open and close. “They’re all gathered outside. Need a change of clothes?”

He looked down at his body, then decided that he’d rather not look. “Celina, help me up the steps. I’ll address them alone.”

“Yes, Prophet.”

“And Lenore?”


She pocketed the lighter.

“Rest up. It's gonna get busy.”

Day would break soon, but in these scant few hours, the darkness was heavy still. The people were restless, without direction. They had driven back the Del Guarde, but they had made an enemy of the military in response. Next time, the soldiers would be more prepared, more heavily-armed, more merciless. Sure, they could plunder what remained within the police department’s armory, could salvage the gear of the soldiers they beat with bricks, but what of it? The passion of heroism was fading away, and now, there was only uncertainty. The future was d-

A single spotlight turned on, sending a piercing beam of light across the city to illuminate a man with no head, a man standing atop the roof of the police department.

His figure was slight, and his clothes no more than rags. Wounds covered his body in every which direction, from knife marks to electrical burns. It was a tapestry of pain, his injuries even now oozing, and yet, he stood tall, his smoke-head as white as a plume of steam.

“People of Merryland!”

Even without a microphone, his voice carried through. There was no sticky, supernatural Gyft clinging to his words, only a human strength.

“Tonight marks the end of one era, and the beginning of another! You have bled for this, have lost for this!” Because they had. After that riot, after that four hour war, there was not one person who had been sheltered from the loss of friend or family. “They shall be immortalized, not with monuments of stone that fade to time, but with art! And those of you who stand still, despite bearing the full weight of that storm of steel, will live to ensure that what they sacrificed themselves for shall never be for naught!”

He swung his left arm to the side. “It was not the mafias that drove the Del Guarde out.”

He swung his right arm to the side. “It was not the police that freed your district.”

Both arms joined, hands clapping together with the vigor of thunder. “It was you!”

“They will return. We will beat them back. They will hide in their fortresses. We will tear down their walls. They will beg for help. We will rip the wings off their planes and free Nocturnia of these government-funded criminals!

The crowd shifted, drawn by the fervor of this faceless man, this individual who had known only inhumane torture at the hands of the Del Guarde. Who had not cowered in the face of pain, who had risen above.

“I shall be your guide!”

He raised his fist in defiance of the darkest hours of night, raised it to the single star bright enough to outshine Nocturnia’s neon lights.

“For the Future! For the Enlightenment! FOR THE NEW AGE!”

A thousand fists rose up, a thousand to resist.
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Hidden 15 days ago 15 days ago Post by The Savant
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The Savant The darkening

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Asterion & Krish

&
Uninvited Guests



The tension in the room could cut a knife. Hailey found herself biting down on her gag, willfully trying to quell her heart that she swore they could hear. At least they graced her with the presence of the ‘actual’ boss. Maybe she could die with the peace that he decided to show his real face. Not that it meant she succeeded any further. Not now, at least.

She tested her restraints. Couldn't move a budge; they had tied her tight.

The burns along her body cried in the moderate heat of the room; they needed ice, salves and bandages. But she very much doubted she'd get that.

All the while, she pointedly was avoiding staring at anyone, or anything, too long or too much. Especially not the weirdo strapped to a chair beside her.

The weirdo, readily enough, seemed far more relaxed than Hailey, staring Asterion straight on with a dead look in his eye. If he could talk, he'd be saying some pretty crass words right about now.

His bullet wound had been bandaged up a bit more, but the bullet was still in his thigh. He wondered if he'd ever actually get treated for it, or if he was gonna die over this shit.

The man might have not shown any of it but he did feel bad that they were being left in such a state. Neither of them did much… Well, the cartoon-character looking woman did more damage, but the military man barely did anything. He wasn’t successful with his attempts either. “Do you not care to look at me, doll face?” Asterion smoothly asked while making sure his footsteps were quiet while he moved to her and exposed himself at the edge of the light. Crouching down and looking towards her. He was trying to get a good concentration on her eyes to see if he was going to be able to jump into her or not.

Krish stayed in the shadows of the room not saying anything since he didn’t want to bother Asterion. His lighter eyes focused on the military man and he was wondering how the man didn’t bleed out by now. He was somewhat worried if they spent too much time with the bomb-girl that they would get no words from the man — he glanced over to Asterion who was trying to get a mere glance of her eyes to attempt to jump in. He only needed a second of connection.

When he crouched in front of her and called her softly, it was almost instinctively for her wide eyes to lock with Asterion's, staring with fear.

Do not fear me love,” Asterion kept his voice soft and pleasant. “And do not be scared. I have no plans to hurt you. Not yet. Especially if you cooperate with me,” Asterion attempts to jump into Hailey.

Outcome of attempt 5 Response 4

”Not yet?!” Was the shrieking voice inside Hailey’s head as she was thrust to the back, now a prisoner even in her own mind as Asterion stepped in and made himself at home. She didn't resist the infiltration, hoping to avoid punishment for her actions as much as possible.

Asterion would be able to take a delightful gander of her memories as he saw the world from her lowly chained self. Most poignant of these memories were the one in a smoky room, sitting across from a red-haired man who held a goblet of wine in his leather seat.

”It's imperative you get to the top of the skyscraper. Really give them a run for their money. The more eyes you get on you, the better.”

Hailey's vision tilted in the memory as she stared at the man, her feelings filled with pride. But also, nerves. ”So I bag this Kairo. Then what?”

”You leave the rest to me, my dear. Just bring him back. And if you get overwhelmed, retreat. But know that if you're caught, I can't throw out a lifeline right away, mm?”

”I understand, M.PHAT. Leave it to me.”

It was clear Hailey was given a story. But, looking carefully, it would appear to the astute that something was missing. How did the military man fit into all this?

It might have not been detectable to Hailey at the time since she was the one being taken over but Krish jumped when he heard the thud against the floor. “Oh shit, boss. I’m sorry,” Krish moved over to Aesterion’s lifeless body. With Hailey’s eyes, Asterion was looking at him with slight annoyance though his body wasn’t standing so he didn’t fall that hard.
Asterion focused on the memories that showed themselves with ease. Who was the man ordering this bomb lunatic around? Sweetheart, tell me who he is, the thought echoed out in her mind and it was Asterion’s, not her own.

And why did you follow such a stupid plan? You seemed a little unhinged, but I was not taking you for a moron, he continued. Coming into a territory that would clearly make you an enemy, alone, without any consideration of help? That is a suicide mission and I am sorry to say. I doubt your friend will send anyone to help you but I could consider helping you, if you tell me who he is, and where he is, Asterion was not playing by the tone of his echoing thoughts.

Hailey's thoughts were panicked and fluttering. ”He's M.PHAT, and he will break down the Wall! I… I don't know where he is! He moves around a lot.”

There was the hint of a lie in her thoughts, which were much harder to hide within her own mind. She quickly added in another thought, trying to control the flow of the conversation.

”I was just a distraction! M.PHAT's plans are always well-thought out. He would have anticipated this. And if I'm just an expendable piece-” A rush of new-found dread clouded her thoughts. ”-...Then so be it!”

Asterion hated that for the bomb throwing lunatic, he honestly didn’t want anyone to be an expendable piece, and Hailey might have felt the disgust that conjured in her. A disgust that would make her own body feel sick to her stomach, I hate that for you, was an honest reaction from Asterion — he hated that for anyone. Being nothing but an uncared for pawn.

What if you do not have to be an expendable piece, doll face? he wondered how she would react to that and feeling the new-found dread that clouded her body and thoughts made it apparent that she did not want to be an expendable piece. A pawn for nothing.

Rolling her head on her shoulders as he was thinking and getting an understanding for her body’s motor skills, Asterion sat there so obediently in the chair. Now, is this M. PHAT individual called anything else or do you not even know who he is? Because that is quite sad if you are working for someone and know nothing about them except that they are… how would you put it? Solid possibly? Breaking down the wall might cause horrors for everyone. It will make people suffer and I am trying to cause the least suffering… that was when he focused on his eyes again and jumped back into his own body.

Krish helped him up without a second thought and he stood there, smoothing his several piece suit to look decent for appearances. “Hailey,” he spoke softly to her while staring. This time, he didn't care to jump into her. “I do not care for liars. I do not care for blind followers. Though I want you to remember, you matter to me, your life does, but I will make you my play thing if I have to figure out more from you without your cooperation,” there was a lifeless emotionlessness to his tone, to his eyes, and his whole being. His stare down was almost similar to a disappointed father. Unapproving.

Then he ignored her existence by stepping to the other side where the military man was, “Are you going to fight me? Or am I welcome to come join you in that beautiful mind of yours?” He chuckled a little with a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Hailey was a bundle of nerves, melted into her chair, happy to attempt to put herself back together with the respite.

The military man, on the other hand? Oh, he was staring daggers into Asterion's soul. With the boss’ eyes on him, he struggled a bit in his bindings, as if he wanted to reach out and punch the guy. Which was pretty impressive, given the fact that any excessive movement could kill him.

Rolling his eyes at the pathetic attempts of the man struggling. Asterion grabbed the military man’s jaw and chin with an excessiveness to keep him in his hold while he looked into his eyes. “Stop struggling and you will receive proper care. If you do not cooperate. I might have to change my mind,” the sad thing is… Asterion might not be able to actually keep care from someone even someone that wanted to kill him or wanted him dead. It was a fault. He could understand why someone wanted him dead but it took a few special types of people for Asterion to wish they would die themselves.

Staring into his eyes a little longer, he smirked, “You have beautiful eyes by the way,” the man stated before trying to jump into the other.

Outcome of attempt 9 Response 11

The military man hardened his will, finding a sweet spot to grip the invasive force and throw it out, rejecting Asterion's advances. He stared up, trying to jerk his chin away from Asterion's grip, smugness in his eyes.

Asterion took a step back with a sigh, “Fine. Be that way,” his voice sounded like there was poison on his tongue. “Die like the working dog you are,” the man stepped away, not facing the military man or Hailey, and he began to step away. “Do not let the medics in here for him. Have them check on Hailey,” he whispered in Krish’s ear. “I’ll be back in half an hour to see if he wants to be more cooperative. If not, I guess I might have to get my hands dirty today,” he chuckled while leaving the room.

Krish stood there and nodded his head. He was scared Asterion was losing himself in this world. How cruel it was. He used to not hold necessary treatment or anything. The man glanced at the military man with a little frown, “How are you feeling?” he wanted to know. He wanted to see how willing the man was to die, possibly, and he was hoping it would make him feel better if he did end up perishing…

In the pause between Krish's words, and in the silence that took the room, there was the steady drip-drip of blood seeping out of a wound, despite all first-aid efforts. The military man, having put on a brave face and expecting immediate backlash, almost seemed to deflate. His skin was sweaty and pale, and it was more like the chair was holding him up, instead of him sitting in the chair.

It would be a long half-hour…

Krish stood there and watched how deflated the man became and he shook his head, “We aren’t like this…” He whispered to himself. With the thought running through his mind. Asterion, you aren’t like this… why are you acting that way? Was his friend becoming sick of the world? He looked to the door and back to the military man. Krish was so conflicted and the military man and Hailey would be able to see it on his face.

That was when Krish left the room and within ten minutes came back with medical providers, “Do not untie them. Nothing sharp, unless it needs to be, and take care of him first,” Krish gestured to the man that was looking more lifeless by the seconds. Please forgive my actions, Asterion, you’ll thank me later.

The medics moved forward, giving one look at the military man and shaking their heads.

”He needs an infusion.”

With quick hands, an IV was placed, giving the military man a transfusion of blood while, still keeping him bound, removed the bandages and belt gently.

”Shit. Still a bullet in here.” One murmured low to the other.

The lead medic glanced at Krish. ”Gotta use forceps for This, and sew it up. A couple sharp objects. We’ll be careful.”

The military man was given anesthetics, and then the bullet was removed, and the wound was sewn up. Already, color was returning to his face, and he seemed more relaxed in his seat.

Them the medics moved to Hailey, cleaning her burns, applying salves, and bandaging them.

”They're both going to be fine.” The lead medic said confidently.

Krish nodded his head, “Thanks,” he muttered out from the hand covering his mouth. What was Asterion going to say to this? Did he overstep by making sure the military man had proper medical care? Rolling his shoulders back, it was a waiting game, and he stared at the door for a very long time. At least it felt like a long time but in actuality, the medics were here most of that half hour, and Krish only stood there for about five minutes before his boss and best friend came back through that door.

Hey~” an anxious vocalization came from Krish.

Asterion’s brows knitted a little as he stared at his friend for a few seconds before helping the door close this time, “What?” he wasn’t unfamiliar with Krish’s vocals or actions. The man knew his friend did something and his eyes scanned that room — a disappointed sigh echoed out. Both of the individuals that were tied up were treated.

The man slowly made his way over to the military man and took out the man’s gag, “Are you ready to talk?” He was going to see if the man was going to talk willingly or not. If not, he would attempt to jump back into him.

The military man seemed relieved to finally have the gag out, mashing his lips together a couple times, before he gave Asterion a defeated look.

”Your man could have let me die… Of course I'll talk.”

Rolling his shoulders a bit, the man nodded, “He could have,” Asterion glanced back at Krish who was standing almost protectively in the shadows as if he was trying to hide a little bit. He knew that Krish disobeyed him for good reason though it was still nipping at him that he did it. Looking back at the military man as he began to talk.

The military man's jaw clenched briefly, before he spoke again. ”I work for the Del Guarde. I was tasked with stealing from you, to hurt your finances. I ended up failing, even after capitalizing on your little ‘sister's’ distraction.”

Hailey’s eyes silently bugged out, noticing something strange with the military man's wording.

Asterion’s brows furrowed while he stared at the military man for a second, “You did fail…” he murmured while thinking about what the man meant by little sister. Shaking his head while glancing over to Hailey as she seemed to react, “What do you mean by that last part? I do not understand,” his words were plain as he stared at the unfamiliar man.

The military man realized his trip up in his words, and appeared a bit flustered. ”Ah, nothing. Just that, you know, she's small, and a girl, and…”

He trailed off, cheeks reddening a bit to show his elevated heart rate. Then he swore quietly under his breath.

Oh, something was definitely up.

The man stood there in slight confusion, the man seemed to flustered, and Asterion was not understanding why. Was he talking about Hailey? He glanced over to Hailey again to try to determine what that would even mean but nothing particular came to mind. Staring at her for a few seconds before looking back at the man to notice his cheeks reddened even more. “Since you cannot get your words out, I am curious. Let me come in,” he stated before attempting to jump into the military man, once again.

Outcome 8 Response 2

The military man's heart dropped, and he gritted his teeth reflexively. Then, all that resistance faded away as Asterion made his home in the military man's body and mind.

All Asterion would be able to hear was the man's panicked strings of curses echoing around in his mind.

Then, the memories started.

And, curiously, the same red-haired man as before came into view, in that one smoky office. The millitary man was pacing, obviously anxious.

”Sit down, Reid. You're going to give me motion sickness.” The red-haired man stated plainly.

The military man's vision instantly snapped to the red-haired man, dread colouring the memory briefly, before he sat down.

”You sure about this? You're putting Hailey at risk for a ‘maybe’.”

The red-haired man propped an elbow on his desk. ”I'm willing to gamble that. If you can convince them Del Guarde is at fault, indirectly or by your words, they'll be stuck fighting each other. Waste resources, all that.

“It's perfect.”


The military man, or more aptly named, Reid, nodded his head. ”Right… I'll make it happen, boss. I'll try to keep little sister safe too.”

And the memory concluded.

Asterion watched the memory as he was in Reid’s body, if he had his own face, he’d frown a little bit, but Reid’s face frowned instead. Something that the owner of the body might be able to feel. Hailey might have noticed how quickly Krish supported the lifeless body of the man he worked for. Holding him up and making sure he didn’t hit the ground hard before slowly lowering him down into a sitting position against stable legs.

Asterion was doing little movements with Reid’s body to familiarize himself with it. Would my thoughts be wrong to assume that Hailey is your bosses little sister? his thoughts echoed out into Reid’s mind. And, if you want to be proud of something, you have convinced me that your boss has no worth in this world. Using you and Hailey as pawns. Varek could have killed you on the spot and I could have killed Hailey. I could kill you both now and I doubt your boss would care to even give you an improper burial, he simply continued speaking to Reid inside of his own head.

There was minor hesitation before Reid's thoughts came to light, much harder to hide here. ”Yes, she's the boss' little sister.”

A pause, before Reid continued his stream of thoughts. ”The boss will be the one to break the Wall. He might be a little ruthless, but he does care about us. Like I'm betting you now he's sent out a proposal to negotiate for our freedom.

“Not that I like thinking about the prospect of dying. But I think the boss knew you might hold back…”


And if Asterion had access to his phone at that moment, he'd see a message pop up from an unknown number, asking to talk.

He does not mean the best when he is sending his little sister into such a sticky situation, Reid. Nor does he mean the best when he is doing the same to you, all of those attempts to get into the Skyscraper and steal for him were pathetic in his opinion. And you know that. I can tell that you are smart. Plus, do you think breaking down the wall is the best idea? Asterion had doubts about breaking the wall down. They didn’t make sense to him. People have brought it up in the past but everyone has failed plus the rumors and truths he has heard about what is on the other wise didn’t make him confident to ever step into a plan like that. No one had an actual reason or evidence on how it could benefit any of them… they just wanted to do it.

Also, I am not killing you because I do not believe you are a bad person, Reid. Nor do I think Hailey is, but I want answers, and if I do not get them. I will do what I must,

Asterion would be able to feel the unbridled fear that passed through Reid in that moment. ”I… I'll be cooperative.”

Asterion’s phone began to sound out a notification and he focused more on the external factors. “Do you want me to answer that boss?” Krish asked while looking at Reid then back at the body of Asterion.

With Reid’s voice, he shook his head, “Answer it, Krish.

Krish reached into Asterion’s pocket where the notification sound came from and he pulled out the phone. “An unknown number wants to talk,” he shook the phone almost playfully as if he was offering it to Reid.

Call it.

Krish opened Asterion’s phone with a password and pressed the call button on the random number that was messaging him.

A smooth voice rang out on the other end. ”Hello, am I speaking with Asterion Kairo or the Mairo Mafia?

“You have something of mine. I'd like it back, if at all possible.”


Krish glanced up to Reid who was possessed by his boss. He shook his head, “No, you are talking to Krish. Mister Kairo is a little busy with being inside of someone right now,” he stated plainly before his brows furrowed.

Reid’s expressions lacked the same muscle memory that Asterion’s own face had though the expression came out offended. Absolutely offended. “How could you have thought that was good wording?” the offended tone of Reid echoed out before Asterion jumped back into his body. Asterion was in disbelief and while sitting there against Krish’s legs, he looked up, and took the phone, “Yes, you are talking to Asterion. Who is this?

There was a somewhat amused tone on the other end of the line. ”Flint. Flint Weathersteel. From the sounds of it, I take it Reid and Little Sister are quite comfortable, yes?

“What do you need for them to make it safely home?”


Asterion did not believe the man when he said his name was Flint Weathersteel though he would extend some faith into the man. He thought for a second before a smirk appeared on his face, “They are currently tied up,” he was being truthful with the man. “They got proper medical but I am not wanting to let them go just yet, Mister Weathersteel,” he chimed with his voice, looking at Reid, and staring into his eyes. Reid sweated a little under his gaze.

They will be my guests from now on. You have my word, but if you want them back. Take 93rd street over and give it to me. Then come to Kairo Skyscraper because I want to meet you,” Kairo wanted to meet this man and see his face. He wanted to know what type of person he was dealing with but he wouldn’t let Reid or Hailey go until 93rd was handed to him.

There was a light chuckle. ”And how do I know you won't kill me upon meeting me, Mr. Kairo? And how do I know you won't kill my people while I'm busy working 93rd Street?”

Because I am curious and I want answers and when I want answers… or not… I try to be a pleasant man. You know, setting meetings up, introducing myself, and making sure a truce is held,” he spoke mildly with the man as if he was speaking to someone he's spoken to many times before.

”A truce, huh…?” Flint's voice was contemplative, as if entertaining a dream.

Asterion stood up, And let me make it easy for you. Under reason, how would you like me to prove to you they are safe? I plan to put them into very nice rooms that are very difficult to break out of. If you want, I can make sure you have access to live video of them at any hour,” he thought that was a reasonable suggestion.

There was a pause before Flint spoke again. ”You send me a link to those live feeds when they're active. When I can see them both settled and safe, I'll begin.

“I can agree to your terms, Mr. Kairo.”


See you soon,” he chimed in before hanging up.

That was when Asterion placed his phone back into his pocket before jumping into both of the captured individuals. Dividing into their minds and making them take a sedative before jumping back into his own body. “I am sorry for making you take a sedative though it is a precaution,” he told them while they were fading into sleep.




By the time both of them were waking up, they were separated, and in places that might have been trippy to experience in reality. Reid was waking up to the sound of rain. The bedroom was handcrafted for him right out of his desires. Glowing strips were around the room while his bed was placed by a window to see the rest of the city. He was floors up on the skyscraper. He’d end up noticing that there was no visible door in the room or nothing that he could tell was a door at first. If he went to look in the mini fridge of the room, there would be his favorite drinks, snacks, and things he wanted to try. The same with some of the cupboards. Other things had games or movies that were on discs or different outlets so he could put them into the computer and play.

Reid stared in confusion for a long, long time. In another time, when he was a boy, he had always wanted a room like this. A safe place to sleep, without the screams, without the noise.

He numbly wrapped one of the blankets around him, taking a few seconds to notice the hot tears falling unbidden from his eyes.

Hailey on the other hand would wake up in a totally different room from Reid. Her room was made for a princess. There were a variety of stuffed and plush animals or other friendly and cute looking things. These plushies were all scattered around the room. When she woke up, if she ventured around, she would notice there was no visible door to get out. Not one that was easy to find. If she checked in the mini fridge in her room it was the same as Reid’s in a sense, her favorite types of drinks and snacks. Things she had wanted to try. The same with the cupboards around it. Things she loved. Things she wished for. Except her room seemed to be a little more lively as if something else was there…

A cat tower?

A food and water bowl by the mini fridge. That wasn’t for Hailey was it?

No, not at all. Asterion wouldn’t treat them like animals, would he? Hailey might have heard one of the comfy sitting areas that were in the room purring. A very happy and very fluffy beast that was sprawled out where the windows of the room allowed warmer light to get in. Her room was a comfort incarnate — the rug was plush, soft, and fluffy. She had a wing that was also comfortable. All the bed linens and pillows were extremely soft and nice to the touch.

”KITTY!” Hailey cried with excitement, reaching out to give the purring cat a pet.

She would find coloring books, movies for the T.V., and other activities that she liked to do in the room.

There was only light-hearted giggles that escaped Hailey. There were lights in her eyes, and she had a childish demeanor. She spun and spun in her room, landing with a whump on her soft princess bed.

Neither thought about the door being absent, and neither thought to leave. At least, not yet.

Both Reid and Hailey might notice, there was a pyramid of paper propped up on their mini fridges. With the note:
Dinner is at six,
A


Handwritten by Asterion himself. What could that mean?

Hailey stared at the note, her curiosity evident in her face. Her moment of trepidation soon passed. It had been a long time, indeed, since she could remember her father preparing dinner and sitting down with her.

Her excitement grew somber, and she stood there for a long moment, just staring at the note, feeling quite cared for.

By this time, Mister Weathersteel had the link sent to him and full access to the room, sadly there was no two-way communication though he could hear what was happening in the room. The link was highly encrypted and wouldn’t be easy to try and get a ping from. Its pings would come from all around the city as if a personal VPN was being used to static it through the networks.

Flint tilted his head and the feeds. Kairo had given his little sister a princess bed, and Reid was a puddle of emotion on the floor.

Well, both seemed alive and safe. That meant one thing, and one thing only.

He passed his tablet to one of his men, “Keep an eye on them. I have some preparations to do.”



Interactions: Flint Weathersteel, Reid, and Hailey @Estylwen
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Hidden 14 days ago 14 days ago Post by flux
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Khor Kosavić - The Eel







The Brewery Disctict, The Jolly Jalopy


Alcohol sprayed onto the bar from a choked chortle. Antonio’s expression froze, unsure to settle on surprise or frustration until Khor pointed at the tv screen in the corner. “Turn it back, you have to see this.” Antonio complied, rewinding the news broadcast a couple seconds to watch whatever caused such reaction. It wasn’t long until he was snickering alongside Khor as well. “Was that a cartoon bomb?”

Khor started wiping themself clean, still chuckling. “The round ones with the burning wicks, yeah.” Antonio looked back to the bar smiling, wiping the mess away. “Who throws old mortar bombs around anyway?” Khor attempted to stand but fell back into their chair. “Go-getters, that’s who. People building a brand, an image with vision, gusto even!” Khor’s face suddenly scrunched. “Why the hell aren’t we moving and using round wick bombs Antonio?”

Antonio rolled his eyes, still smiling. “Probably because we don’t have the time anymore to get ourselves killed throwing cartoonish bombs at some boss’s building.” Khor gave a vigorous nod. “That we don’t. Shame, sure does look fun.” The tone began to turn, Khor slumping into their chair. Looking to the tv again it played the footage over earning one last scoff. Khors eyes began to darken before Antonio broke the silence. “You alright Khor?”

Thoughts broken, Khor lit up again, a smile flashing. “I love this city.” Antonio stood drying the glass. He’d been in this profession long enough to see a drunken ramble coming a mile awhile. Leaving the silence to Khor to collect themself they eventually let their drunken thoughts spill onto the bar.

“It’s a place, of broken dreams. Beautiful little fragments left to pick up and make into something tragically beautiful. Something earnt through blood. Something real. Ours. Wrought in beautiful blood. Tragic beautiful…” Khor trailed off in catching Antonio propping a concerned eyebrow. Locking eyes with him, sliding forward, Khor took one of his hands.

“Has anyone told you that you’re beautiful Antonio?” Antonio ripped his hand away and pushed Khor back into their chair laughing. “You’re an idiot.” Giggling Khor tried to steady themself. “You wouldn’t have it any other way. Anyway. Business.” Antonio nodded in agreement. “Business.”

Khor stabbed a finger into the bar. “Military birds. Crapping cargo on the city. Weapons?” Antonio tilted his head. “Most likely. Lads think there's reinforcements too. Del Guarde, if info’s good.” Khor ‘s face soured. “Deeeel Guarde’oooh. Lovely, and the Order just exploded with action today didn’t it.” Antonio looked back to the bottles stacked along the wall. “Yep. Also rumour is Vincent was taken in for questioning.”

Khor froze hearing that. Finding Antonio’s stoney expression in the bar’s backsplash mirror it took a moment before they could manage a reply. “Shit.” Khor’s eyes eventually rose again to Antonio. “Anything else?” Antonio shrugged. “Uptick in Gyfted abductions, massive rise in activity city wide, that’s about it.” Khor pursed their lips, processing everything they’d just heard, resting their chin on their hands. “Whole goddamn city’s exploding.”

Antonio grunted an affirmation and Khor’s head slid further into their hands. “We’re out of time then.” Khor slowly rose, fingers covering their mouth. “Out. Of. Time.” Brow scrunching, they let their hands fall to slap against the bar. “There’s some fucked up irony in that somewhere, isn’t there.”

Antonio stopped for the first time tonight, leaning against the bar, voice low. “Plan B then.” Khor frowned. “BlitzPlay. Couldn’t hide forever I suppose. William as runner, activate the cells, and tomorrow morning will be a very new day for the Brewery District.” Antonio’s expression fell. “Oh. You haven’t...” He stopped to take a breath. “William got himself killed this morning. Shot at some badges who found his package.”

Khor winced. “Goddamnit. Stupid kid should’ve known just to run. Freddy then, and keep those little shits in line. Things are going to get rough enough as it is.” Standing up with a stumble Khor picked up their helmet and Antonio stopped what they were doing. “Not coordinating the troops tonight?” Khor waved without turning. “Got a doctor’s appointment, urgent. I’ll still make it for go time.”

Antonio called out as Khor began sauntering toward the door. “You’re not riding drunk as a skunk.” Turning Khor gave a shake of the head. “Nah, got a ride with Rada.” Antonio recoiled slightly, looked away then back to Khor “I think you should take your bike.” Khor laughed. “Nah she’s good. Nothing like the gut shitting fear of death to sober you up anyway.”

Hesitating before closing the door, khor looked back to Antonio. “Thanks. For this. It was nice to feel like things were normal.” Antonio nodded, a warm smile forming before Khor closed the door and embraced the brisk night as another nobody one last time before getting into the car waiting for them.




The Brewery District, In transit

soundcloud.com/tokyoroseofficial/toky…

“WOOOOHAHAAA!”

Rada hollered at the wheel, narrowly missing another car before ripping hers around. Tires screeching. Horns blaring. Metal groaning. Clearing the corner a moment of reprieve was quickly replaced by dread again as the engine roared once more. G-force squeezed what adrenaline was left out of Khor’s body alongside gears thudding and Rada cheering. “Nothing like a midnight cruise! Come on even you thought that was impressive.”

Rada looked over to find Khor pressing their entire body against the edge of the seat and door, arms splayed holding onto any false hope of security. Khor’s eyes caught hers for a moment and though nothing was said their expression begged that she turned hers back to the road. Sighing she kept her attention facing forward. “You know this is your fault right.”

Khor forced a response through clenched teeth. “How.

Rada gripped the wheel prepared to tear through another intersection. “Shouldn’t have given me the contacts to get such a nice ride.” The wheel spun, shortly followed by the car. Cabin filled with hollering again Khor squeezed their eyes shut trying to shield themselves from their current reality. The violence of motion was enough to inspire fear alone though and in opening them they found two bright headlights glaring through the windscreen.

The pitch of the truck horn blaring dropped like a rock while the car kept its pace. The wheels of the wall of steel beginning to slide in slow motion, the smoke building on its tires like water condensing from the air. Once clear the truck rushed forward. The pitch of screeching tires rising. Rada turned, unimpressed. “It’s not fun when you cheat like that.”

Khor again forced out a word. “Reflex.” Rada eased off the throttle. “I thought you were in a rush.” Khor let out a breath, unsure how long they’d been holding it. “Not that much. Jesus.” Rada tutted before exclaiming and rummaging around the centre console. “Got something I could use your help with actually.” She eventually tossed a handgun onto Khor’s lap. “Stupid thing won’t fire. Think you can make it work?”

Khor’s eyes sharpened on the weapon before grabbing it. “That’s an easy fix.” Briskly tossing it out the window Rada responded with slamming the brakes. “Wha- Dude! The fu-”. Khor cut her off. “You don’t want to be a courier Rada. Certainly not a smuggler. Stick to racing.” Rada blew a raspberry. “Rich coming from you.”

Khor looked to Rada, something about her determination filling them with dread. Looking back through the windscreen Khor nodded forward. “I do have an urgent appointment.” Without breaking her glare, Rada slammed the car back into gear. She made sure the rest of the trip was especially exhilarating.




The Brewery District, Hoc Joc HQ

soundcloud.com/thoughtmusic/nmrih2-dr…

Khor almost fell out of the car. Legs still jelly from the trip. Turning to thank Rada the wheels were already spinning, screeching before taking off. Khor watched the taillights disappear around the corner as a voice came from behind. “She looks pissed.” Turning on their heels Khor greeted the woman curtly. “Akir.”

Taking a moment for one more drag on the last of many cigarettes’ Akir gestured for Khor to enter the tower. “Your late.” Riding the glass elevator upward Nocturnia began to sprawl out before them. It’d be a pleasant sight if not for the gravity of the moment. With the silence getting awkward Khor glanced at Akir. “Heard that Otto’s projects are coming along quickly, your brother been well?” Akir squinted toward Khor. “Won’t shut the fuck up about how the numbers keep telling him how bad my research is for business. Hasn’t seen mum and dad in months now.”

The silence became cold. The elevator frigid with tension. The release of the doors sliding open turned the focus of the two to the purpose of the meeting at hand. Akir pointed at a chair, Khor sat, and Akir slapped test results onto the desk letting them slide out of their stack. “You’ve aged a year.” Khor looked at her, then away, and back to her. “Uh… no shit? Everyone ages.” Akir closed her eyes blowing air through her nostrils. “No. Your as old as I am now. You’ve lost a year of your life.”

Khor sat expressionless. “Ah.”

Akir waiting for more than just an ah. Nothing forthcoming Akir pressed straight into questions. “How often have you been using your Gyft.” Khor responded flatly. “Pretty liberally.” Akir bounced her head. “Pretty liberally.” The bounce turned to shaking. “Well good work, at this rate your body will begin to fail in a few years.” Akir sat, head falling back onto her headrest. “Just what the hell are you doing Khor.” Khor spat back. “You know damn well what.” Akir began spinning a pencil in her fingers. “Alright. What for then. Why?”

Khor collected themself. Thought where to begin and settled on the start. “I used to hate this city.” Akir scoffed. “I still do.” Khor continued. “These Gyft’s. It’s like radiation. You can’t see it, but it permeates everything. Our communities. Our sense of self. Our bodies. But. One day I realised that blaming Gyft’s was just an excuse. All they did was expose who we really were and, in a way, showed us true freedom. Realisation of the self. Forced us to look in the mirror to see what was really there. With that I saw true beauty, tragic, but undeniable beauty. An undeniable reality.”

The pencil in Akir’s hands stopped spinning, eyes filled with a cautious curiosity. “And what is that?” Khor looked down and smiled. “That this city is a pure thing. Something that may even, one day, become something good in every intention. But as long as the outside world tries to influence or control it, then the city will keep lashing out, defending itself against perverse intentions for it.” Akir stared past Khor, unsure how to process what was said. “Alright. What are you going to do about it?”

Khor swallowed before looking Akir in the eye “I think it’s time to put a face behind the Eel.”

Her response was immediate. “No.” Khor pleaded. “Listen-.” Akir stood. “No!”

Silence filled the clinical room. Akir took a breath and began to pace.

“I have kids strapped to beds down there, Gyfted kids, who are a threat to themselves and society just because of some bad luck catching a Gyft they can’t control. They aren’t happy being locked up in a tower watching the world go by out the windows but then they hear a legend like the Eel, and they start thinking ‘I could be that, I could be free’. Gives them some hope, sure, but you turn that legend into reality and their hope turns into action. Action that gets them killed. Not just them, but people out there who worship that legend, people like Rada, and everyone in their way. All because you have some fucking fantasy about the future of this city.”

She stopped only to look at Khor as if they were a demon, her voice dropping low to a growl. “But you already know that don’t you. You’ve already lost kids because you made them believe in your own bullshit, haven’t you.”

Khor sat still looking down at the desk, leaning on the back of the chair. “We’re out of time Akir.” Akir’s eyes flitted. “What the hell does that mean.” Khor looked to her. “Gyfted abductions are increasing. Military incursions are increasing. The violence is increasing. It’s starting to fall apart, and I don’t know what happens after that.” Khor paused for a moment. “All I know is that people like us. We’re the target.”

Akir stopped pacing, eyes moving side to side, mulling over recent events in her mind, comparing them to her studies of the events that led to the culmination of warzone 13. Eventually her eyes became still staring at the wall as if she was lost in a grand view of the city before falling back into her chair. “We’re out of time.”

Akir stared at the ceiling while Khor toward the desk. Neither were sure how long had passed, and it wasn’t until Akir spoke under her breath that both their trances were broken. “Out. Of. Time.” Her eyes shot to Khor. “Ironic. Considering your condition.”

Khor allowed themself to smile, if only briefly. Akir put her pencil to paper. “So, what do we do.” Khor gestured to the lab. “Well, you keep trying to find a cure for the Gyft. That way people can at least wash the target off their backs if they choose too.” Akir nodded and spoke again without looking up. “And you?”

Khor clenched their teeth. “I’ve got some ideas on how the city could be secured.” Akir stopped writing. “That’s insane. Even if it was remotely possible, the famine from cutting off aid drops would be devastating at best.” Khor nodded. “That’s why I’m really hoping your brother has some solutions in his self sufficiency city program. If not, I’ll figure something.”

Akir snorted. “You’ll figure something. Great. Inspiring.” Akir shook her head and dropped the pencil, looking to Khor one last time. “I’ll be honest. I’m expecting that you’ll be dead within the week, and that might be the best outcome opposed to you trying to start a civil war.” Khor met her gaze. “I’d rather die trying than be tied down to a bed, and if we’re being honest, I’m sure those kids down there feel the same way as well.”

Akir froze, then came the fire in her eyes. “Get out.”

Khor stood and gave a half salute. “We’ll see who solves this first then.”

Akir spat. “Get. Out.”

The elevator doors closed and Khor disappeared downward. Akir wandered to the window scanning the city for anything that Khor might see in it that she couldn’t. Staring until her eyes strained, she turned away rubbing her face, walking back to her desk to get back to work, muttering as she sat. “To hell with this city.”


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Hidden 14 days ago Post by Herald
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Herald

Member Seen 22 min ago

Collaboration with @Estylwen




With Vincent tied up at the police station in Burberry, it was almost too easy to send a convoy of patrol cars to White Pine. The lights were on, but the sirens were silent. And, as evening approached, some of the patrol cars parked down the street of the Irish Pint, just out of its line-of-vision. Other patrol cars parked at the back, hoping to cut off anyone who ran.

The Commissioner sat in the back of one of the patrol cars, eyes glancing out towards the neon-lit street before turning to her partner in crime for the day, Leon's recommended: Walter Shaw.

”They aren't expecting us, so we should have the advantage. I'll let the officers secure the building, then we should be free to put your talents to use.

“Sound good?”


“Anything that keeps me bullet free sounds fantastic commissioner,” he said, chuckling as though he had just made some hilarious joke.

At that, the Commissioner stepped out of the vehicle, twirling her hand loosely in the air to ‘round up’ the criminal. It was go time.

”Nocturnia police, don't move! Hands were I can see ‘em”

The lively scene within the tavern was stopped short by the police bursting through the front. A few employees took off, dipping through the kitchen door, only to be stopped at the back alley, where the cops had surrounded them.

So, with the building appearing to be secured, the Commissioner and Mr. Shaw were free to look through the restaurant area, bar, kitchen, and back offices. Strangely, though they knew there was a basement, the door to it didn't present itself blatantly…

Shaw whistled an upbeat tune as he wandered through the doors, keeping a casual stroll as his eyes flitted over the armed men and women in uniform covering what could have been mistaken by most as casual drinkers and diners. An average looking crowd you might look around and see at church on Sundays.

Continuing his whistle, he pretended to examine a few of the tables and windows, shaking his head and looking towards the kitchen. It was all an act, one that cost them a few minutes, but he had his own secrets to keep after all. Still, he cut most of his act short, heading over to the main counter and slapping both hands down on its surface, his gyft triggering and the sudden touch of his hand to a solid surface.

It had taken days of practice to get used to the image that played out in his head, the vibrations echoing much further than normal and painting an image of the building around him. The first floor was legitimate operations, aside from a few concealed weapons and some kind of alarm switch that one of the chefs was trying to inch their way towards.

“Commissioner, tell your boy with the big boots in the kitchen area to cover the walk-in freezer, there’s a shotgun and some kind of panic button just inside the door,” he said, then struck the counter again with his palms, getting a better feel for the image in his head.

The Commissioner nodded, then jerked her chin in the direction of the kitchen to her cop heading the sting. He immediately moved into action, entering the kitchen along with the cop already sweeping the kitchen area.

“Speaking of the chillbox, hope you don’t mind a bit of cold. Pretty sure I’ve picked up a hidden door behind some kind of storage rack,” he said, looking at the commissioner, “Shall we?”

The Commissioner raised her eyebrows behind her shades. ”Impressive… Yes, let's.”

As they approached the walk-in freezer, the cops already had it opened and sweeped, picking up the shotgun and removing it from the scene. The Commissioner stared at the panic button, seeing it's lack of depression.

”Well, that's either a really good thing, or…”

The storage rack was moved to the side, revealing a slim door that slide to the side. There were narrow steps that led down. The basement, they had found it!

The Commissioner glanced over at her cops. A look was all that was needed, and they entered first, hollering for hands to be raised.

But, as the Commissioner and Walter entered the basement, it was… Void of people. There were tables and clean beakers, typical lab equipment. But all the ingredients, anything incriminating - it had been cleared out entirely.

”...Fuck.” The Commissioner cursed, shaking her head. ”What tipped them off…?”

“Damn, they are good whoever they are,” Shaw said, whistling again and running his fingers along the counter, “they even took the dust bunnies with them.”

Shaw continued to make a show of looking around for another few moments, then reached over and slapped the wall like he had nearly tripped over his own two feet. The echo image formed in his mind again, tracing over the entirety of the room and their empty drawers and shelves. Even the vibrational image of the place was clean, save for a small piece of paper that looked like it had somehow been caught in one of the drawers and overlooked. Shaw reached over and opened the drawer, well aware there were no signs of booby trapping or tampering. “Hey Boss Lady, got something here,” Shaw called out, not wanting to touch it in case of fingerprints, “maybe some prints, but probably not much more than that.”

Antonia, staring with another impressed look, snapped on a glove and picked up the sheet.

The shipping receipt was dated for earlier that morning. A half hour after Antonia's meeting with her detectives had concluded. A moving van had come and taken everything, delivering it to 32 Dreadnaught Ave in Heavy Crossguard…

“Shit,” Shaw said when he looked it over, looking over at Antonia, “sorry for the language, but that’s before Leon even called me. Either you two have the worst luck imaginable, or you’ve got a bird singing pretty early on in your house. Best of luck with that.”

Antonia shook her head, dropping the sheet in a plastic baggy and handing it over to the nearest cop. Then she turned to Shaw. ”Detective MacAoidh was right. You're quite indispensable. I imagine you'll be looking for your fee?”

“Leon has always been good for it, but the sooner the better if we’re finished here,” Shaw said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out what was obviously a handmade business card, “here, in case you ever need me and can’t reach Leon. My rates are very reasonable considering my success rate.” Ironically he counted this as a success. After all he had found the hidden basements, it was hardly his fault… and really none of his concern that they were apparently empty.

Antonia accepted the card, giving him a nod. ”Very good, Mr. Shaw. Then I may be contacting you about a warehouse in the future…”

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Hidden 13 days ago Post by The Savant
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Avatar of The Savant

The Savant The darkening

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Asterion Kairo

&

Flint Weathersteel & Vale



Asterion decided to go to his guests instead of sending guards to harass them. He promised Flint Weathersteel that he would treat them like guests instead of prisoners so he would do just that. Going up a floor, he walked down the hallway with Elara by his side. “You want me to only restrain him if he tries anything?” she sounded a little confused by her own words.

Exactly, you are going to treat them as guests unless they make it so we cannot do that,” the man explained while walking up to the door and knocking. That knock echoed out into Reid’s fantasy bedroom before it sounded like an intercom turned on.

A tap could be heard as if the microphone was being tested, “It is five thirty Reid. Are you wanting to get ready for dinner and join us? I would appreciate it if you did,” he spoke out to the man that was in the room. Earlier, he noticed how defeated Reid looked while curling up in the blankets on the bed. It made him feel bad for the man but he knew he was as much of a killer as he was. There was going to be caution even if the man didn’t have any weapons.

Reid's gaze snapped to the wall where the knock had been heard. He still couldn't see a door, but had to assume one was there. He had since calmed down from his earlier outburst of emotion, and had entirely zenned out on the sounds of rainfall.

At the mention of dinner, he looked down at his clothes. The bandage needed changing, and his army fatigues were spotted with blood and stank of sweat and fear. Not entirely presentable for dinner.

”...Yes, I just need a few minutes.” Reid said. He had a feeling there would still be a security detail, and he had a huge hunch that Asterion was going to drill them with questions again. Maybe this whole farce of playing ‘house’ was really a way for Asterion to capitalize on his prisoners.

At least he wasn't being tortured. That had happened once before, and it sucked.

Reid hobbled to his feet, gritting his teeth in hot silence as his wound produced a stabbing pain. Doing his best to walk without a limp, he opened the closet door and found a loose-fitting, simple yukata.

How did Asterion know he always wanted to wear one?

A quick dip in the bathroom to remove his old clothes, rinse off in the shower for thirty seconds, wrap some fresh gauze around his leg, and dress in the cool fabric of the yukata took about six minutes.

Then Reid was at the wall that he assumed was a door, trying to tamp down the thudding in his heart. This was either going to be dinner, or another interrogation, or a torture session. The uncertainty had him on edge, but he didn't dare let it show in his voice.

Instead, he straightened up and said in a calm voice, “Ready.”

Asterion did something on the other side of the door before taking a step back. He was prepared for Reid to come at him though he was silently standing there. The door automatically decompressed and slid into the wall. Disappearing.

His twilight blue eyes glanced at the door that disappeared into the one side of the wall before he looked at Reid, “Reid, this is Elara. She’s very nice and sweet. Quite sensitive, so I do hope you treat her well when she walks you to the dining room so I can go get little sister,” Asterion stepped to the side more so Reid could come out. Gesturing for his guest to leave the room he was in.

Distrust flickered in Reid’s eyes as he glanced at Elara, before looking back at Asterion. Yes, he had stepped to the side, a written invitation to come and walk to his doom.

A soft sigh as Reid slowly walked out of his room and into the hallway. The Kairo man was clever, and he was certain this ‘Elara’ had some kind of gyft. For now, he would just have to play along, and hope they weren't secretly trying anything.

”Right… I'll follow you, Elara.” He said, turning to Elara with a nod. He would, as he said he would, follow her without a fuss.

Reid might notice that Elara walked beside him more than in front of him. She gave him a pleasant smile, “Just this way,” she hummed out softer words as she led him to the dining room.

Asterion went the other way and down a floor to get to where Hailey was. Going all the way to the end of the hall before knocking on her door before pressing the button, “Baby doll, are you ready for dinner?” He asked while looking at his watch. It was five forty-five. “It is fifteen minutes to six,” he spoke over the microphone in the same fashion that he communicated with Reid in. Except his voice was more soothing. Purposefully lighter and more soft.

Hailey’s head turned to the wall, broken from her reverie petting the kitty. She felt a bit squeamish. She had really messed up Asterion's district. But from the tone of his voice, he didn't… sound angry. Real question was if she had the guts to apologize. If her apology would even matter, or be taken seriously.

Then there was the whole ordeal of, if there was, in fact, a door to her room, what she would do once it opened. She could run fast. She could try to leave. Make it so her big brother didn't have to conquer 93rd street on her behalf.

The cat in her arms could sense the tension rolling off Hailey, and meowed. She winced, speaking softly to the kitty. ”Sorry, you're right.”

She put the cat off to one side and stood, already dressed in a modest evening dress with sparkles doting the fabric. She had found it in the closet, having prepared for dinner an hour earlier. So, it was simply a matter of padding over to the wall, and standing there a bit awkwardly.

He should be furious at her.

Why wasn't he furious?

”I'm… yeah, I'm ready.”

Pressing the door in before it moved to the side and went into the wall, Asterion was stepping back, as if he was preparing for anything. To make sure he had a second or two more to react. His eyes looked at Hailey once over and he softly smiled with one side of his lip, “You look very pretty in that dress. Honestly more flattering than what you were wearing earlier,” it might have been a backhanded compliment though Asterion fancied dresses and skirts on women more than not. A personal taste.

Come with me, please,” he decided to take a chance and extend his hand out for Hailey to take it.

Hailey stared for a moment, feeling a bit flustered. But when Asterion reached out with his hand, she immediately thought of her brother. He would do this with her when he was in a good mood. It always made her smile.

So, seeing this now, it put her at ease, even slightly. She accepted his hand, and stepped out. ”...Okay.”

While Asterion was walking with Hailey, he encouraged her to grab onto his arm instead of holding his hand to walk with him. “I wanted to ask a question before we stepped into the dining room. When you were throwing bombs around. What was your goal? I know to be a distraction but deeper than that, Hailey. Was it to cause as many fatalities as possible? The most destruction?” With an even tone and he was curious and wanted to hear from her what her goals were. There was an understanding from the interrogation early that she was a distraction for something bigger but he didn’t care about continuing to dip into that. Not at the moment at least.

Hailey's head bowed as she delicately held onto his arm, shame crossing her face. ”...The most chaos. It would draw the Kairo Mafia out, and I was… bored. My target was the tower, but I wanted to see how strong the response would be. I'm… not used to much resistance, you know? Not everyone is gyfted, and many districts lack a police force….

“Of course, after that, my goal would have been ascending the tower and uh… kidnaping you.”
She said sheepishly, looking away.

Listening to Hailey, he nodded his head, “We might not have an official police force but we try our best here in Nickel to keep everything running smoothly. Most of the members of the Kairo family do not have to deal with such chaos so they came to me and I love dealing with chaos,” he admitted with such a lightness in his voice as if dealing with Hailey today was fun to him.

A chuckle came from Asterion as a smile that showed his pearly whites ran across his face, “You are pretty cute. You could have just asked and I would have let you kidnap me,” Asterion teased the young woman.

”What!” Haiely said incredulously, eyes bugging out.

Opening the double wide doors to the dining room, he walked Hailey over to a chair before pulling it out, and allowing her to sit before pushing it in slightly.

Going to his own chair at the end of the table, Hailey would notice there were a few familiar faces: Reid and Krish. Then there were unfamiliar faces such as Samuel, Varek, Zarek, and Elara at the table. Krish and Zarek were arguing with each other while Elara was sitting in silence and Varek was asking Reid about his leg. Pretty normal for the most part.

Can you tell your bitch to lay off?” Zarek snapped up while he noticed Asterion sitting down.

Asterion glanced at the two of them bickering.

Krish was gesturing to Zarek, “He started it. He’s being quite an ass tonight and I told him that I am not in the mood,” he glared back at Zarek who was grinning.

A sigh left Asterion, “I thought you two would behave while guests were among us…” he sounded like a disappointed father while staring at Krish and Zarek as if wordless commands would work.

Zarek crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, “You are lucky there are guests here or I would have zapped the hell out of you already,” he mumbled while glancing at Krish.

Do it. I dare you,” Krish egged him on.

Please do not. Why are you in a bad mood, Zarek? You have done nothing today,” Asterion chimed in.

Zarek looked offended but rolled his eyes and stayed quiet before putting his attention on Samuel and whispering something in the man’s ear. Samuel blushed instantly and leaned more towards the table while looking at Krish.

What are you telling him?” Krish demanded.

Asterion rolled his eyes and smiled slightly while looking at Reid and Hailey, “Please do not mind them. We are like a family here so if you want to fit in while you are staying here. Pick on Krish the most,” he chuckled while glancing at Krish with a slight smirk.

Krish threw up his hands in defeat before grabbing the glass of what appeared to be a darker liquid before drinking it to keep himself quiet.

Is there any questions from the two of you before dinner starts?” Asterion was putting his attention on Reid and Hailey.

”...We're not for dinner, are we?” Reid said, not missing a beat. It was an attempt at a joke, but he asked in a half-honest question.

Hailey shot him a look. ”Reid, what kinda question is that? …And don't think I've forgotten how you left me out of the loop when you planned this whole… uh, thing with my brother. If I woulda known…I- ah… hmm…” Hailey suddenly remembered what company she was in, and fell into an awkward silence, staring down at the table.

Asterion shook his head, “I know that you are Mister Weathersteel’s little sister and I know that you two were in on the same plan but you were blindsided, Hailey, you do not have to keep things from me. I will find them out sooner or later,” he then looked over to Reid when he felt his eyes on him.

Reid stared at Hailey for a moment, before glancing at Asterion. ”No questions. If you're not eating us, we are honoured to be here as your guests…”

I have never tried human before,” Asterion placed his hand on his chin as if he was pondering. “Maybe I should try it,” he teased before leaning back in the chair. “Though I suppose I can be nice today and not do so,” he chuckled a little bit before his eyes went to the door when it opened.

Two workers came in, one pulling the cart, and the other pushing it. They kept it off to the side before bringing each person a plate of food. Specifically made for them. Elara was having a salad with chicken and a red dressing. Samuel, Zarek, and Krish were all having similar dishes. Burgers with fries. Varek was having a sub.

However, Asterion was having something that was more common around the poorest of communities. It looked like a bowl of stew or soup to a point. It had stew meat in it, parsnips, potatoes, and cabbage with a dinner roll. Very simple and not costly to make at all.

Then there was Hailey and Reid, their plates were delivered covered by a cloche. Both of them would end up removing those cloches to uncover comfort foods. Something that Asterion figured out when he was in their minds.

Did you two want anything more than water to drink?” Asterion asked before the staff would leave them be.

Reid discovered his dish to be a steak, along with a large helping on mashed potatoes and asparagus. His jaw dropped a little, seeing it even had the caramelized onions. Everything he liked.

Hailey pulled back her cover, and found red velvet pancakes. At least three of them, with whipped cream and syrup, and a side of hashbrowns. Now, one would say these don't go together, but for Hailey, she was staring at two of her most favourite foods. And she continued to stare, wondering how on earth Asterion could possibly know, before she broke off he gaze.

Right. Drinks.

”Uh, orange juice, please.” Hailey said.

”...Saaake?” Reid said, tilting his head as his voice inflected upward. He didn't want to trust this. But it was very, very easy to get disarmed in a situation like this.

Asterion nodded at the drink requests, “Please,” he gestured to one of the staff members with a gentle smile and expression. “Get Hailey some orange juice and Reid some sake,” the man glanced over to Reid while the staff member nodded before the both of them left.

Are you able to hold your alcohol?” he asked with curiosity. There was an honest wonder why the man would request something that would intoxicate him and thin his blood. Maybe he was hoping to bleed out or possibly not drink enough but ease the pain of the wound on his leg?

Reid made a dramatic grimace, ”I'm not about to become a drunk to my own prisoner's-good-behavior-buffet. I'm not an idiot.

“I can hold my liquor fairly well. At least, I think.”
he admitted, self-consciously rubbing the back of his head.

Hailey rolled her eyes. ”Do you see anyone else drinking, Reid?”

”...No. Reid became a little blob at the table, reduced to a puddle by Hailey and Asterion. He mumbled where he sat, something about just liking the taste.

Asterion shrugged his shoulders, “I am more worried about his leg than him getting wasted at the table,” he chimed in towards Hailey. “Your request will be given to you and do not worry. Elara tends to have a glass of wine before dinner is over, so you will not be the only one,” his voice teased a little while he glanced over to Elara who was rolling her eyes.

I sometimes do myself, maybe I will tonight,” Asterion wouldn’t waiver to one glass of wine. He enjoyed the taste of a variety of alcohols. “I doubt anyone has any religious obligations that they want to impose on others? None? Then enjoy dinner,” he started before taking a drink of warm water and enjoying some of his food.

Hailey started on her pancakes in earnest. It was only a few minutes until one was gone and the second was quickly disappearing. Reid was quick to tear a part at his steak, though he was very aware of the steak knife now in his hand.

Hailey looked over at Reid, ”When's the last time you had a steak.”

He offered a small smile. ”When the crows flew.”

Hailey laughed, ”You mean when you were with my brother?”

Reid nodded. ”Yep. It was actually a setting much like this. Among friends. Though- uh, ‘friends’ may be a bit of a stretch. Kind of like that clock game you like to play. Like a six and a nine.”

”I preferred the nines too. All the numbers were pretty easy to get.” Hailey said nonchalantly back.

Reid nodded, hummed a bit, and went back to his food, savouring another bite of steak.

Clock game?” Asterion had never played a clock game or at least he couldn’t think of when he played such a game but he was interested in it. At least in the terms of discussing what it was with his guests.

Hailey nodded. ”Mhmm, you set your playing cards in a circle, and you organize each suit according to a clock. Kings are dead-ends, and you have to draw another card from the pile.”

The one staff member that he asked to get drinks for them set sake down in front of Reid and orange juice in front of Hailey. She walked back over to Asterion who whispered a few words before he thanked her and she left.

Asterion looked at the two guests before reaching to the side and grabbing a remote, pressing a button, and almost the long wall, a T.V. appeared and came down from it. “I hope you do not mind. I want to see the 5 cent news about what happened today,” he turned the T.V. on and live footage of the attack came on. Elara seemed disgusted and so was Varek. Samuel seemed absolutely uncomfortable. Krish frowned and looked away from the T.V. while Zarek turned to it. Asterion continued to eat while watching the whole scenario until a bomb landed by a handful of cars and went off. Going off right beside someone and them exploding in the capture zone of the city cameras. He continued to eat like it was nothing.

I know you told me you wanted to go with chaos but did you realize how many individuals, innocent lives that you took, Hailey?” his darker eyes glanced at her before going back to the T.V. and taking a drink of his water.

Hailey stared at the TV for a moment, seeing her own actions play out, before she shot a glance at Asterion. Despite his casual demeanour, it felt like he had slapped her. And Hailey, having lost her appetite, quietly set down her utensils and stared at her food.

Reid noticed and felt his anger flare up. He leveled a glare at Asterion, his voice ice. ”You don't get to talk to her like that.”

Krish seemed to tense up when everything began to lay out. Asterion glanced over to Hailey and before he could continue speaking, he noticed Reid, and his icy tone attempting to stab at him. “I am speaking truth to her. Do you want me to lie? I had to face all the casualties,” he stood up and pressed the remote.

The T.V. flicked to another perspective to a middle aged woman holding a child who was bloodied. “I do not believe you or her understand the damage that was done. You only hurt my heart. Only saddened my emotions. However, you changed the lives of the people in Nickel forever,” Asterion hit the remote again to another perspective, bodies lying on the street with pools of blood. “If you can —- if Hailey cannot understand and handle the chaos she has caused. She should not be causing it. Her ignorance is deafening to me and I want her to understand that none of these people deserved that when there could have been other measures. It could have been different if Mister Weathersteel decided to talk instead of sending her to kill innocent people to kidnap me and send you to steal money. I could have given you the scraps of what is in that safe, Reid, instead of this,” Asterion hit a button again. It went back to the woman who was bawling out holding her child. Screaming in pain and sorrow.

People in Nocturnia have no consideration for anyone but themselves or the immediate people they call family or friends. If people started caring a little more or at least being aware of others, it could be better for everyone, and I do not blame either of you for what happened especially by her reaction,” he gestured to Hailey who looked absolutely defeated.

His eyes stared down at her, “Do you want me to turn it off, Hailey?” he asked politely. Over this whole time, his voice barely rose in emotion or volume. However, when he spoke towards Hailey, his voice became more soft and pleasant as if he knew she needed that more than him raising his tone with her.

She visibly flinched as he addressed her, tears in her eyes again. It was evident the cries of the families haunted her and dug at her core. She was looking at her hands, before pushing them over her face and through her hair, as if she could push away the horror building in herself - the horror of her own actions, her loose-cannon tendencies that caused actions she could never take back.

She did deserve punishment. She didn't deserve to sit here eating her favourite food. She couldn't even bring herself to look at Asterion, shame and guilt consuming her.

It took a couple tries of Reid calling out to Hailey before she realized, and her head jerked up, showing these large, white-hot tears escaping down her cheeks.

Reid gave her a pained smile. ”When the crows fly, they get to see your brother.”

Hailey blubbered for a moment, trying to form words. Before she hastily rubbed her eyes, and nodded.

In that next instant, everything changed.

Reid stood, launching his knife at Asterion. Hailey knocked over her chair, bomb thrown to the window as she ran. There was an ear-piercing shatter of glass as the window exploded. And both Reid and Hailey dove towards the window, hands clasped, fully intent on leaping from the ninety seven’s floors window to the distant traffic below.

Asterion stood there while the whole room flipped and everyone started to stand up. He watched the knife and purposefully didn’t move. Krish for a second panicked before he used his ability and focused in on Hailey.

Outcome 6 [Power move]

That would be when Hailey felt something stinging into her skin and her being yanked back and hard. It would start draining her energy levels. She tried to struggle, and she even took a step forward. But the loss of energy was like a sedative, and she stumbled, falling to her hands and knees.

Elara stood up and with a lift of her hands, Reid was yanked back and vines spun around him and tightly. “Do not move! Or I will have these vines grow thornes,” she threatened the man while tightening the vines a little more. She then moved her one hand and vines curled around Hailey as well.

Reid cursed, spinning his head wildly. Seeing Hailey near collapsed on the floor, and stuck just as much as him, it caused anger and fear to twist across his face. He struggled in vain once; they had been so close!

Asterion stood there without much movement but a deep breath that shook a little. He didn’t move, purposefully not blocking the knife, and he grabbed the knife and ripped it out of his shoulder as blood came out of it. Blood seeping into his nice suit while Krish kept his line intact with Hailey and Elara kept them bound with vines.

Walking over to them as he spun the knife in his hands, “I am disappointed in both of you,” Asterion looked at both of them. “Take them back to their rooms. Dinner is over,” he demanded while pointing the bloodied knife at Reid. “I know you wanted to prove something but I think you proved the wrong thing to me today.

Crouching down and getting close to the man, he whispered, “I do not mind a bit of pain. This will easily heal, yours will not,” that was when Asterion lifted up his hand with the knife clutched in his grip before fully forcing it into Reid’s leg that was already wounded. Not letting go of the knife or allowing the pressure to release.

Reid bit back a scream, face contorting with pain. Before his instincts took over, and he shrieked in agony. Weakly flailing, trying to get away though he couldn't move. His eyes bugged at Asterion, before they rolled back, unseeing, blind with pain. Convulses shook him, making the wound slightly worse.

”Y-You're hurting him!” Hailey weakly called out, now more like a puddle on the ground, her breath labored, eyes twisted against the fatigue that wanted to pull her to oblivion.

”Please, Asterion! Hurt me instead! He doesn't deserve it!” She cried out hoarsely, panic tearing her voice.

Asterion seemed unphased by the screams as if he heard screams a thousand or so times. He began to turn the knife a little with a deadpan stare at Reid while he screamed and reacted. It was hard to tell if he was absorbing anything else, “You have taken my kindness for weakness,” he added before pulling the knife out and tossing it on the floor.

Reid whimpered, lying there on the floor, reeling from the aftershock.

You both are going back to your rooms and I will make sure you get medical attention, Reid, though I will make sure it is one of our medical students. They need to learn on someone,” he chuckled a little bit at that comment.

Then he looked over to Hailey, “I am going to hurt you in a different way, little sister. Now take Reid away,” Elara and Varek did so. They began taking Reid away while Asterion walked up to Hailey and looked down at her. He put his hand up, Elara kept her vines wrapped around her, but Krish removed his ability.

I know you are good, sweetheart, and I know you have your own priorities and missions, though I want you to make an on-air apology to my people for the pain you have caused. You do not have to apologize for your mission, your morals, or anything else. Simply the pain that you have caused even if you do not mean it. It will help some of them with their healing process,” and he emphasized certain points that were not one-hundred percent the truth.

He sighed, “You are not the one that threw the knife, so you would not get punished for that,” he added on. “I am disappointed that you blew up my dining room though I can always replace that. Make it better or make it different. However, I cannot replace humans,” his twilight eyes fell upon Hailey as he stared at her. There was an undertone to his voice showing he was not in the best mood anymore.

Hailey swallowed hard, listening to what was being asked of her. She watched as Reid was taken away, and then her eyes drifted to the gaping hole in the window. Their would-be escape route, just feet away…

With the dart removed from her, there was nothing drawing on her energy, though she still felt weak. Likely not enough energy to conjure a bomb, even if she wasn't bound by vines. It made her feel weak and helpless.

She glanced up at Asterion, hating her situation, but knowing she was backed into a corner. Her teeth gritted. ”You want me to… apologize?

“...What if I refuse?”


I do not think you will want to do that, princess,” Asterion smiled slightly. It was hard to hide the mischievousness and almost lightly lingering sinisterness to his smile. This was beginning to feel like a game of cat and mouse —- Asterion loved showing his claws to people that deserved it.

He shook his head, “I will not tell you that consequences of your actions, though I will make sure you have a front row seat to them, you and Reid are making me realize —” he added on while he looked away from her eyes for a moment as if he was contemplating the possibilities of what to do with her and Reid. “ — I was right,” his eyes flicked back up to hers as he stood there and stared.

And I wished so badly for you two to prove me wrong. I wanted that for the both of you so badly…” he groaned at the thought of it. One hand combing through his hand as his shoulders rolled backwards with the thought.

A shrug came, “Agree to it or not. My people will get an apology from you, sweetheart, even if it is not from you. If you get my train of thought.

Hailey's heart sank, dread filling her. To be subject to Asterion's body control, and to be a prisoner on a soulful level…

No. She would rather the words were from her. It would humiliate her, sure. But she would rather not be traumatized further. Asterion was showing more and more that he could get what he wanted. It twisted her stomach and made her sick, but she would be an idiot to think fighting this would make it any better. If she wanted to get through this without further psychological torture… It was better to fall in line.

Her head bowed as bit. ”Fine… Fine, I'll do it. Just… don't control me. I can speak on my own.

“I'm not gonna try anything… You can remove the vines…”


Asterion stared at her for a few seconds too long as if he wasn’t going to cut her vegetated bindings off from her though he walked over and picked up the knife that had a mixture of his and Reid’s blood on it. Going back over to Hailey and cutting each vine, slowly, as he stared into her eyes. “I hope one day you will understand why I am doing what I am doing and I am glad you are cooperating with me,” he ended up cutting the last vine for all of them to loosely fall around her so she wasn’t trapped anymore.

He stepped back and looked at everyone else in the room and he looked back at Hailey, “How much should I trust your brother, doll face?” he asked plainly while standing there with the knife in his hand. “I probably should trust him less than I trust you, right?

Hailey weakly stood, looking small as she wrung her hands. It gave her no small amount of trepidation to see the knife that Asterion and literally just lodged into Reid, still in his hand. She took a breath to steady herself.

Knowing her brother, he was preparing for a slaughtering in 93rd Street as they spoke.

She swallowed again, trying to fight down the nerves she was feeling. She really was a prisoner here. ”My brother can be trusted enough to meet your… requirements to get us back. I… I won't hide it, he has no love for mafias. He'd kill you if he had the chance.”

Her gaze snapped up to Asterion, her hands rubbing her eyes dry as she now had her mobility back. ”I… I want to convince him… I will convince him… that you're a good person. Not like the mafia that destroyed him…

“So that maybe, he doesn't try to kill you later, once we are safe…”
She spoke honestly and plainly. Asterion might not want to hear it, but it was as truthful as she could be.

A sigh left his lips, “Being unorthodox does not mean I am a good person,” he began while looking at Hailey who looked exhausted as she was trying to gather herself together. “And I do not believe it is your responsibility to convince him of what he sees me as or not. I will meet with him and he can determine for himself who I am, and how he wants to deal with me is how he will want to deal with me. Dead or not. I do not matter to this world and my death will do nothing more than eliminate me from existence and I am perfectly fine with that,” Asterion sounded so truthful and he was being truthful as he stared down at Hailey. His twilight eyes flashing a purplish-pink before going back to normal.

Now, let us get you back to your room,” Asterion held his hand to help her up and lead her back to her room.

Hailey wordlessly allowed herself to be escorted away, eyes on the floor. It was when they were a few paces from her door when she finally voiced her thoughts.

”You're not going to kill my brother… are you?”

Asterion did not stop walking when she asked that question, he shook his head negatively, “I have no reason to kill your brother, princess,” his eyes glanced at the woman as he spoke. “If he gives me a reason, I will always choose myself or my family, though I do not believe that will happen for the time being or hopefully at all, so you do not have to worry about anything. Okay?” He had no plans on going after her brother or killing him. Not right now. There was no need for unnecessary violence. Asterion always needed a reason to take someone’s life or he had a difficult time doing so or simply wouldn’t be able to bring himself to it.

Without a fuss, Hailey continued to walk with him, staring up at him for a few moments more. ”...When will I be giving my apology to your people?”

Tomorrow morning, around ten. If that works? I can always change it,” Asterion offered.

Hailey nodded, steadying her breath. ”Yes… Yes, that works fine. I… Uhm.”

She couldn't meet his eyes. ”I'm sorry. I wrecked the dinner party. I wrecked your window. I should have told Reid not to try and… well, ‘bust us out.’ Who even decorates a prisoner's room exactly how they like it?

“I don't expect you to forgive me, but I felt I should say it. While I'm here.”


Asterion shrugged his shoulders though the gentle curl of his lips showed his appreciation for the apology and words. “I know you are and I know Reid and you are only doing what you believe is the best course of action. I would honestly do the same. Stab the man in charge and I know that Reid most likely has had training by his reflexes. He could have thrown it into my throat or into vital organs but he chose to go for the arm and shoulder area. And you could have loaded that room up with bombs and decided to kill Elara, Varek, Zarek, Krish, and I… and even little Samuel. You choose not to do that,” By this time, they were standing in front of the open room door, and he looked at Hailey.
I have already forgiven you,” Asterion stared into her eyes. “And I decided to decorate them in ways that would make you both comfortable. You might be my prisoners but I have no reason to be a monster. Do I?” Asterion smirked a little at his words as if he wanted to know if he should be a monster or not towards Hailey and Reid. His tone was light and showing he was trying to be playful in a twisted way.

Hailey sweated a bit under his gaze, though the relief showed through. ”No, no… no reason. I'll uhm. Wait until tomorrow, then.” She said with a dip of her head, allowing herself the tiniest smile.

Giving her a little smile back, “Have a goodnight, princess,” Asterion encouraged her to go into her room before closing the door and making sure it shut properly. Once the door was secure and everything was in place and locked, he walked away from the door of the room, and pulled out his phone. His shoulder was still bleeding from earlier though he was so dissociative to pain that he was forgetting about it. Where were his limits? Where was his humanity and connection to his own body? Sadly, it was twisted and messed up because of all the games he has played.

Pulling out the phone, he went to the unknown number, and called it. Contacting Flint Weathersteel once again.

The line connected after a single ring. ”That was quick. What's on your mind, oh great and mighty Kairo?” There was a condescending tone in Flint's voice through the smoothness; he didn't mean a word.

Asterion rolled his eyes at the introduction, “I rather you refer to me as jackass than falsely praise me like a god, Mister Weathersteel. And what is on my mind? Why don’t we meet, tonight, Kairo Skyscraper. You and me. Ten o’clock. You can bring a plus one or two. I do not mind. I’ll have my own plus one and possibly plus two with me,” he admitted.

Little sister has talked about you so much that she has caused me to be overly curious about who you are and what your plans are about taking down the wall —-” he paused. “ — and I really want to know why you wanted to kidnap me.

There was an irritated groan on the other end, ”Great, figured that one out, didya?”

A pause, calculative. ”Sure, Mister Kairo. I'll pause my world domination of 93rd Street, just for you. We'll be there.”

And he hung up.




Tokyo Tower, Jeweled Bank


”...And the bunny hopped all the way home~”

It was a warm sight. A father beside his daughter, the daughter tucked in bed. The soft glow of the lamp washing over them as they stared at the last page of the picture book together. The little girl, Daisy, giggled, nestling her face a little more into her father's chest. He responded by patting her head, looking down.

Oh how strange it was indeed, having a killer for a father.

”Alright, bedtime, Daisy.”

Daisy didn't protest, ducking down deeper into the sheets while her father, Flint, moved to stand by her bedside. He leaned down and gave her a kiss. She smiled, before looking up at her father with a questioning look.

”Daddy, when is Auntie Hailey coming back?”

Flint's expression was an unreadable smile. ”Daddy's gonna bring her back, Daisy. You don't worry about a thing.”

Her little voice asked innocently. ”Do bad people have her?”

She was smart beyond her years. Flint smirked slightly, feeling a well of pride for his daughter, before nodding. ”Yes, dear. But Daddy will bring her back.”

He gave her one last kiss on the forehead, before turning out the light. He softly closed the door behind him, before getting prepared for the evening ahead of him.

A blindfolded, brown-haired figure stood behind him, crossing her arms and leaning by the door. ”This is a trap, and you know it.”

Flint loosened his tie, eyeing his walk-in closet for something suitable. ”Whether it's a trap or not is irrelevant. That's why I'm bringing you. Wear your best dress, Vale.”

Vale nodded, and left, leaving the man to get into a new suit. Tonight would be… interesting.




At ten o'clock sharp, a black limousine arrived in the valet area of Kairo Skyscraper. The chauffeur opened the back door, and Flint stepped out, dressed in a rich blue, well-fitted suit and wingtip loafers. He moved to Vale's side, extending his hand out to her. She was dressed in a midnight blue gown and white fur shawl, her back blindfold switched out for a sparkling navy one.

They were armed in arm as they entered the lobby area of the tower - right on time.

A receptionist at the lobby of the tower was waiting for them, she had blonde hair in a bun, and a business casual dark gray pencil skirt with a light pink blouse with some frills around the collar, “Welcome, we are glad to have you here tonight Mister Weathersteel and guest,” she dipped her head while gesturing. “If you can come this way,” she would lead the two down a back hallway that didn’t seem to match up with the rest of the layout of the ground floor. They passed the stairs and elevator or at least the public ones. She walked up to a regular looking door before opening it to reveal a hidden elevator, “Step inside and press floor forty-eight. You will meet a guard there. He is armed but he is not there to hurt you at all. Only to lead you to where you need to go,” she had such a pleasant smile.

”Dotting his I's and crossing his T's…” Flint murmured, eyes on the elevator before glancing at the receptionist. ”Thank you.”

They entered the elevator, pressed the number for floor forty-eight, and the doors slid shut. In the moderate privacy of the elevator, Vale's hand squeezed on Flint's bicep a feather harder.

”Hidden elevator… That throws the escape plan out the window. It wasn't on any of the schematics.”

Flint glanced down, the slightest smile on his lips. ”If all goes well, we won't need an escape plan.”

Vale pressed a bit more. ”It already feels off, boss. We may very well be walking into a trap.”

Flint gave an easy shake of his head. ”If he wanted us dead, he would have done so already. Relax, Vale. That brilliant mind of yours is going to tire you out.”

Vale pursed her lips, before nodding. ”Right, sir.”

And the doors opened to floor forty-eight.

When the door of forty-eight opened, a guard smiled, an average looking man, “Come with me,” he began to walk down the hall. All the way down the hall which took a minute to get to another door and he pressed a button as the elevator opened. “You can only go up to floor seventy-two from here. When you exit the elevator, no one will be there, go right down the hall, and you will see a sign that says stairwell. Go up three floors and you’ll find yourself on floor seventy-three. When you exit the stairwell, you will find a door right across the wall. It’s another elevator. When you enter that elevator, press number one-hundred. That will bring you to a revolving floor. The place you want to be. Asterion apologizes that it is somewhat of a maze to get to the higher floors,” the man dipped his head with a general smile while stepping away from them to give them space to enter.

Flint gave a low whistle and gave the guard a nod. ”Thank you.” Before both he and Vale entered the elevator. Once again, the rose up through the floors, and got out at floor seventy-two. Up the flights of stairs, then into another elevator, then finally - Flint And Vale stepped out into the revolving floor.

When they arrived at the revolving floor that was decorated as a personal restaurant. Modern. There was a table set up for multiple people and only one person was at it. A woman that was dressed in a semi-revealing two piece skirt and top combo and she shifted while she heard the noise of the door open. A smile appeared on her face as her long legs uncrossed and she stood up, “Welcome to my skyscraper,” she pleasantly gestured to the area around them. The invited guests might have noticed there were a few people standing around the inner areas at this time. Nameless guards. Except one, Zarek, but he was nameless to them.

I do apologize that I cannot meet you in my body though it is healing from a mishap today, so I thought you would love Elara’s friendlier face and softer voice,” Asterion was using Elara as a host for the moment and he reached up to touch her face to emphasize her beauty and cuteness with a gentle smile and a lift of her shoulders. “I hope that does not offend you,” Asterion continued to speak through her voice.

Stepping towards Flint, she got close enough to lend a hand out for a shake, “It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard so much about you and who is this lovely lady with you?

Flint's head tilted. Interesting.

”You have me at a disadvantage. It almost seems inappropriate to call you ‘Mr. Kairo’,” Flint said, giving her a pleasant gaze and a firm handshake.

He then stepped to the side, gesturing to Vale. ”This is Vale Hart, my one-plus and second-in-command.”

Vale smiled, staring right at ‘Asterion' despite wearing a blindfold. She extended out her own hand. ”Forgive my boss’ rigidness; he got a little worked around on the way up here. It's a pleasure to meet you in, well, almost-person.”

Elara’s face showed more sweet emotion than his own face would, “You can call me Asterion, Mister Kairo, or you can use Elara’s name. I will understand who you are truly speaking with,” he mentioned while giving a decent handshake back, nothing like his own hand, but still a decent one.

Then through Elara’s body, he turned to Vale with a smile, and shook her hand as well. “O, do not worry about your boss. He’s one of the more pleasant people I have met. He has not tried to shoot me in the head, yet,” Kairo chuckled, on Elara’s cheek his expression flustered a little bit and she smiled with her teeth and that made her smile with her eyes. “And when June is done with my body along with its natural healing process. Maybe, just maybe, I might feel social enough to jump back into it for you two,” Elara stated while gesturing to the table she was sitting at.

”Mm, testing the water? Smart man.” Flint said, a smirk flashing across his face.

Let me pull your chairs out and make sure the staff gets us all something to drink. Do you two have any particular requests?” Elara began to move over to the table and when she got there, she pulled out a chair for one of them before pulling out another. Then sitting on the other side of the table herself. Vale sat first in her seat, Flint tucking her in, before sitting in his own chair.

”Wine for me. ‘68, if you have any.” Flint said, a little amusement in his eyes. There was something else in his gaze. Something that watched like a hawk.

”Champagne, please.” Vale said in an easy tone. ”I will say, you get quite the view here, Mr. Kairo.”

Elara glanced out the window, “I’ve always enjoyed the view of heights. It reminds me how vulnerable I can be and how beautiful the world is when it looks peaceful especially at night,” he confessed with honesty.

Looking towards one of the staff, he raised the delicate hand he was in control of, “Please can you get those requests, 68’ and champagne. I would love champagne myself,” he was drinking what Elara preferred instead of himself. It would taste better that way.

Without more than eight minutes on the clock passing, a staff member came and set down an unopened bottle of ‘68 wine in an ice bucket with an unopened bottle of champagne in the same bucket. “Thank you, Susan,” Elara put her hand on the back of Susan’s with a smile. Susan smiled back and stepped away.

Elara stood up and grabbed each bottle before opening them and pouring each person a drink before sipping his drink first and sitting down. “Are you two hungry? I bet we have anything you want,” she smiled as the staff member stood there beside the table in wait.

Flint picked up his glass of wine, giving it a contemplative swishing, before glancing at Vale, ”Fine dining at the Kairo Skyscraper, must be our lucky night.”

Vale's eyes were hidden, but one could hear the flatness that entered her tone. ”Stop playing and order something.”

Flint chuckled. ”Fine,” Before he glanced at ‘Asterion’, then the staff. ”Two tuna steaks. Imported, not from the river. With,”

He glanced at Vale again, ”Salad?”

Vale nodded, and Flint gave a confirming thumbs up to the staff. ”With salads.”

Elara smiled, “You know what I like,” she kept a pleasantness and Susan nodded. “I will tell the chef, Mister Kairo,” Susan stated while walking away and disappearing into the background.

Leaning back into the chair and sitting more properly now, Asterion looked at the two of them, “You seem like a lovely couple,” It was a tone that was a little teasing to keep it light if they were not a couple but he loved the individuals chemistry before him. Grabbing the glass and taking another sip of champagne. “Is there any questions you have for me?

A dark look crossed Flint's face, even as his smile froze. Vale glanced up for a moment, before she covered. ”We do have a few questions. However, I believe a toast is in order, first.”

She raised her glass, glancing at Flint again. His eyes had shut, taking a deep breath, before he regained his composure, raising his own goblet. ”Indeed! To ‘friends’, and delighted company at the summit of the world.”

Elara joined in with the clink and took a drink of her own champagne.

The cheers was as tasteful as it was going to get. However, before Flint took a sip of his wine, Vale taste-tested it. A minute passed, before she handed Flint back his glass, and took a sip of her own champagne.

The woman dressed in white and pink brows furrowed in concern, not the fact that Flint was being careful, but he had his plus one testing it. There was no poison. He had no intentions in doing that to them and found it quite boring to poison people at all.

Flint gazed at his wine for a moment, swirling it, before his hard eyes glanced at ‘Asterion’. ”I saw my Little Sister leave, then return to her room, and sob her eyes out for the next hour. Reid left a trail of blood when he was dragged back into his room.”

His voice dropped to a menacing tone, pleasantries gone. “...The hell did you do to them?”

If you wanted a poison taster, I could have tasted it for you,” Elara joked a little and ignored the slight awkwardness in the air when Flint brought up Reid and little sister leaving the room then returning.

Elara shook her head in the negative, “I brought them to dinner. I showed Reid and Hailey exactly what the damage of the bombs caused. I wanted them to understand the suffering of my people. The majority of the citizens in my district are innocent and I try so hard to protect them from the rest of Nocturnia. I wanted them to understand the consequences to their actions even though I understand why they were doing such actions. Everyone has their own motives and I do not believe yours or theirs are evil motivates. Hailey got upset. Understandably so. Reid was not happy with that and stuck a steak knife into my shoulder. Then they blew up a window so they could escape. My team restrained them before they could escape and I…” Asterion stared as if he was trying to remember what he did before he looked directly in Flint’s eyes, “Stabbed him in the leg for stabbing me in the shoulder,” he nodded at that confession.

That might have been a little much. An overreaction, June has seen him since, and his wounds should be healed by now. Completely.

Elara seemed to look at her champagne before swirling it in the champagne glass and taking a sip. “I did not want them escaping until I could at least talk to you and get to know who you are, apologies,” Asterion sighed.

Flint took a sip of his wine, his face an unreadable mask. He kept his tone even, though there was a hint of ice. A hint of anger.

”Well, Mr. Kairo, I am here in front of you. You are welcome to ask me whatever questions you like, as long as they don't include changing our negotiation terms. I'm already booked to purge 93rd Street, you see.”

Elara nodded her head with a smile, “I will not change those. I promise,” she put up her hands as if she was stepping down or accepting defeat in that category. “Why did you want to kidnap me? I am curious about that,” she spoke softly while looking over to Flint.

”There's a lot I could force you to do, if I were to kidnap you.” Flint said with a shrug. ”Have you plant evidence, steal evidence, get cozy to another mafia boss and kill them… any number of things.”

Asterion grinned with Elara’s face as if completely absorbed in Flint’s words, “I think I really like you,” he chuckled with such excitement. Placing the feminine chin on the back of her own delicate hand while staring at Flint. “And you cannot force me to do anything, Flint, but I am very bored, and if… we are exterminating the waste of Nocturnia. I think we could make a deal,” that was when someone came through the door and Elara looked at them. It wasn’t Susan. It was an unfamiliar face to the guests.

Asterion,” Krish stated plainly. “Your body is healed and stop smiling like that, it’s creeping me the fuck out,” he confessed while seeing Elara in such a mood like it was unnatural.

Elara’s face went into a resting bitch face, “Do you like this face better?” she raised her brows.

On her, yes,” Krish confessed.

She stood up with a smile, “I will be right back, plus, I do not want Elara hearing any of this,” he confessed while walking away from the table. “I will be back in about fifteen or hopefully sooner,” he waved the delicate hand before walking into the door with Krish and disappearing.

It gave Flint and Vale an opportunity to talk. One turned to the other.

”A deal, huh?”

Flint shook his head, ”He really doesn't get it.”

Vale leveled a stare at him. ”You'd really throw away an opportunity?”

Flint snarled. ”The man wants to save his own skin.”

”He has Little Sister. Boss, I know your heart is coal black for these people, but consider it like this. You simply wait… Until the crow flies.”

Flint and Vale stared at each other for a long moment, Flint clearly not liking Vale's words. His voice was pained. ”You know I can't do that.”

Vale shook her head. ”I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking you to do that… for a little while.”

Flint scoffed through his nose, leaning away in his seat and taking a large sip of his wine. Vale, knowing her boss, kept her silence, sipping on her own champagne. It stayed like this until Asterion was finished.

It was roughly a minute or two past the ten minute mark when that elevator door opened again. A taller man came through the door dressed simply though dressy as he made his way over to the table. His twilight eyes flicked pink-ish purple. “I am sorry to keep you waiting,” His deeper voice was a hard contrast from Elara’s soft and feminine one.
Stepping in front of them, he looked at Flint and held out his hand, “Pleasure to meet you, once again,” he was wondering if the man would shake his hand again or not.

Flint smirked, standing from the table, and held them man’s hand in a firm shake. ”You've made a full recovery, I take it?”

Unlike Elara’s hand, Asterions’ was a firm handshake this time.

Vale stood beside him, chiming in right quick. ”What my boss means to say, is that he would like to apologize on Reid’s behalf for stabbing you.”

Flint made a face, grimacing slightly, ”Always the damage control…”

Asterion nodded his head, “Do not apologize for the actions Reid had done. If I was him, I would have tried to get a kill shot, to be honest, he was polite to only get me in the shoulder,” he chuckled. Grinning with his teeth. “And you do not need to speak for Flint in this case, he seems like a man that would say it if he truly meant it,” his twilight eyes glanced to Flint to confirm his words as if he was asking for approval more than anything.

Flint gave a light chuckle. ”That obvious, huh?”

I rather people be as honest as they can with me Flint and I am an expert in psychology, if I say so myself, so I know. You will not say anything you do not want to say to me but I love that. I appreciate it. It is such a respectable characteristic,” he stated before grabbing the drink that he poured for himself, for Elara, and he set it to the side. Grabbing himself another glass and pouring himself the 68’ wine instead before picking it up and taking a sip from it.

Flint tilted his head. ”Buttering me up, eh? What, you want me to make a bloodbath out of 93rd Street now, rather than in the morning?”

It seemed as though he was attempting a joke. Vale seemed a bit exasperated, but held her tongue this time around. It appeared Asterion had a good read on Flint and his… well, straightforward mannerisms.

Flint thought it was funny, allowing himself a little chuckle. Before he raised his eyebrows questioningly. ”But there's a reason you came out in person. And a reason you're being so kind to the man who ordered sabotage on your district.

“So, Mr. Kairo, you know I'm all ears. What exactly were you proposing, bringing us all the way out here…?”


Asterion kept standing and he took another sip of his drink, “Believe it or not, I try to be pleasant to everyone even people who do things not in my favor or my exact interests,” he spoke evenly as he glanced at Flint and Vale before setting his glass down. “I want to know this plan, little sister kept bringing it up. That you plan to take down the wall?

Flint's eyebrows waggled slightly, tossing back the rest of his wine before setting it on the table. Not the best way to enjoy ‘68, but sometimes, drowning yourself was rewarding.

”Ah, she told you about that, did she?” He said, his gaze turning to the window, neon lights twinkling below. He seemed almost wistful, as if his sense of purpose had reignited.

Then his sharp eyes glanced back at Asterion, crinkled slightly in humour. In grandeur. ”It's true. I have been given a bit of… Providence, if you will. If enough mafia bosses suddenly… bite the dust, if you get my drift, Providence will open, like rivers of wine and honey. And the Wall will be shattered. And those who are with me will be free, finally.”

Asterion stood there, staring at Flint for a second, “You believe if you kill enough mafia leaders, god will tear down those walls?” he sounded a little confused. “Mafia leaders fall constantly and we have recently come from a city-wide war that spilled so much blood. I do not know if doing such a thing would tear down the wall and I do not know if that would help the people of Nocturnia, especially the ones that cannot fight for themselves,” he glanced to the side as he thought. His eyes flicking up to Flint while thought dwelled in those twilight eyes.

Flint stared back, before him and Vale shared a look. Vale's head tilted, before she shrugged. ”You know you can't speak in code words to just anyone.”

Flint ran a palm over his mouth, staring at Vale, before glancing back at Asterion. ”I could tell you. But it's, shall we say, highly confidential. If word got out…”

Then Flint shrugged. ”Ah, what the hell. I'd kill ‘em anyway.”

He raised a finger, listing out the details. ”Providence is what turned my life around a few years back. A guarantee, if you will. There's a military group outside the Wall I'm in contact with. They fund me, and in turn, I get full privilege to tear down the bigwigs here. Now, they do say something about granting passage out when the job is done, but that's something I highly doubt.

“So, I've been creating an army.”


He stared at the man as he spoke, he was not sure if he could believe Flint, and he nodded. “You do not fully trust the military that you are in contact with but you are hoping it brings the best outcome nonetheless? What happens if they betray you or slaughter the people of Nocturnia? Do you know if they would do that or not? Do you trust that they wouldn’t rampage through the city and kill everyone after the protectors of districts are gone?” Asterion was clearly fishing. He was curious. There were plenty of thoughts in his mind and many more questions yet he wanted to ask what felt the most important to him — the innocent people of Nocturnia who suffer the most at the hands of the ones on pedestals.

”Caring for the people, how noble!” Flint laughed. A cold, cruel laugh. ”But you have to know, the only way anyone is getting out of here, is through violence. Unified, dirty, unbridled violence.” There was a sheen in Flint's eyes now, a fire. He was speaking passionately now.

Asterion seemed unphased when the sentence blew out from Flint like it meant nothing to him. Him caring about people, in his mind, was not for a noble reason. There were so many people he would kill without a second thought while others he saw as innocent —- a godly complex. Specifically a hypocritical one. But one had to do what one had to do to keep their people safe, right?

”That, that is what the revolution is for. Those military dogs throw money at us to kill ourselves, I get some catharsis killing some mafia bosses - but only so much. They feed us money only drown in it. The revolutionists will burn down every guard tower, every Wall, every goddamn militant that thinks they can cage us like animals - And I will lead it. I will bathe in the blood of the militants as the Wall is broken, and Nocturnia is turned free.”

Listening to the man’s words, he thought about them, and he shook his head, “So you plan to doublecross the military that will most likely doublecross you,” he nodded at the thought. “Interesting,” Asterion put it simply. That was when the door opened and Susan came back through it. He held his hand up to Susan with one finger up.

Am I walking into something important?

A little bit, yes,” he downplayed the conversation. At this time, Flint might have noticed all the guards that were standing around, there were barely any left except two. Then there was Susan as well. With a cart that had dinner on it. Someone with a keen eye would notice there were four cloches instead of three — was someone else sitting with them.

Asterion gave a small smile to Flint, “I am sorry that our conversation was disturbed,” he added but they did order dinner. Susan came over to put all the cloches down. One in front of Vale, one in front of Flint, one in front of Asterion, and one to Asterion’s side.

Susan gave him a look and he nodded. She smiled then walked away. “We should wait for our other guest,” Asterion gestured for Flint and Vale to sit as he did himself.

It was almost in unison that Flint and Vale scanned the room, eyes, blindfolded or not, falling on the extra dinner. Before they exchanged a look between them, and sat down.

Who could the mysterious extra guest be?

The reduction in guards was an encouraging sight. At least, Vale was assured by it. Flint couldn't care less, but he didn't make a comment on it. Didn't want Vale seething at him again, after all.

They sat, mirroring Asterion. An empty glass of wine and and an empty glass of champagne were refilled, and Flint and Vale shared a quiet clink before taking a sip.

”If I may ask,” Vale started, her voice polite. ”Who else is joining us tonight?”

Asterion took a glance at Vale with a gentle smile, “A pleasant surprise,” he answered so vaguely. The man took a glass of water and took a sip of it. It was warm. The way he enjoyed water, warm or hot.

Not soon after, the elevator door opened and Elara, dressed like she was, came through the door along with two men — Varek and Krish. “As you asked for, Asterion, little sister is here to join you,” she stepped to the side for Hailey and gestured for her to go join Asterion, Flint, and Vale.

Flint immediately stood, eyes widened, palms pressed on the table as he half-turned to face Hailey. One could see his hands were trembling, before they circled into fists to hide it.

Vale stared for a moment, before she glanced at Asterion, ”Permission for Flint to hug his Little Sister?”

Asterion shook his head, “I told Flint that little sister and Reid are guests…of sorts,” he added with a nod. “He can go hug her. He does not need permission to appreciate family with me. I thought it would be a pleasure for him to actually see her so he understood that she was not being harmed,” he added. By this time, Hailey’s wounds and burns and everything else would have been healed by June. The man had no intentions to keep Hailey or Reid suffering.

Flint was out of his seat, and facing Hailey and her entourage in that next instant. He had eyes only for her as his arms spread wide.

Hailey beamed, glancing up at Elara questioningly, before she hurried to her brother's arms. They embraced, Flint looking like a man who'd just entered Paradise. He patted his sister's head, before leaning back, holding her arms.

”Are you hurt? Are they treating you good?” His voice was hushed and soft. A tone he hadn't used before.

Hailey had tears in her eyes as she looked up at her brother. ”I'm fine, Big Brother. They have a gyfted healer. And my room even has a cat!”

Flint's dead eyes actually gained some light at that comment, and he embraced his sister once more. He whispered in her ear. ”I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. I got you involved in the wrong side of work again.”

Hailey softly shook her head, whispering back. ”I'd do it again, Big Brother. You will set us free. And you will rescue me, yes?”

Flint leaned back, looking into her eyes again, gripping her arms strongly. His voice was at a normal volume again, impassioned. ”By this time tomorrow, you will be back home with Daisy and me. I swear it.”

Hailey sniffled, brushing away a tear, nodding. Before her eyes glanced over Flint's shoulder, glancing at Asterion and Vale. There was a self-conscious look to her face as she glanced up shyly at her brother. ”We… shouldn't keep Mr. Kairo waiting.”

Flint stared at his sister a moment longer, before he relented. He held her hand and brought her to the table, releasing her to sit beside Asterion. His sister still wasn't his, and wasn't free yet, after all.

”...Ensuring I do a good job tomorrow?” Flint asked with a slanted smile towards Asterion.

Asterion looked up to Flint with a gentle smile, he had plans already, but he wasn’t going to share them. It would be surprising more than anything. “You can have Reid after dinner, if you would like,” he added while staring the man in the eyes.

I would rather not get stabbed in the shoulder again or anywhere, to be honest, plus I would assume he has some…” twirling his hand in the air. “...gyft that allows him to fly or safely jump from floor ninety-seven of a skyscraper,” Asterion added. Showing that he had lost interest or passion to keep Reid at all.

Flint's head tilted. ”So you got that much from him… Very well, we will take him back after dinner.”

He and Hailey took their respective seats, continuing to listen to Asterion.

Asterion glanced at Hailey, “And yes,” his twilight eyes flicked towards Flint, “You will get your little princess back tomorrow,” Asterion leaned back in his chair. “Before you go after dinner, I will have little sister go back to her room, because I want to talk to you about a few more things before you leave. What was disturbed between us and I do not think it is appropriate to have little sister or a few others here,” Asterion glanced up to Elara who was standing against a wall. Her eyes glared at him. He smiled and waved and she rolled her eyes.

If you understand,” Asterion looked back to Flint as he began to lift the cloche and reveal a dish that was common among very poor people. Ratatouille.

Flint's eyes narrowed at that, but he kept his thoughts to himself. ”Very well…”

Flint and Vale removed their covers, revealing succulent fish with a side of salad. Hailey, predictably, had pancakes with whipped cream again. Hailey, this time around, had her eyes more focused on her brother. Flint too, was watching her closely.

There would be business to talk of after this. Flint was fine with that. He already got more than he bargained for. He got to see his Little Sister.

All three, however, didn't touch their food. Not until Asterion would start to eat.

The man sat there for a few seconds looking at the three and got the hunch that they might not be eating because of him. Asterion took a forkful of his dish and put it into his mouth. Setting the fork down and chewing slowly while glancing at all of them before swallowing, “Please, do not starve on my watch,” he joked. “If you need a poison taster, Flint, I can try all three dishes on the table,” he gestured from how Flint had Vale test his wine earlier.

Flint smirked. ”If you wanted me dead, you would have done so already.”

Vale stared pointedly at Flint for a long, long moment, before he softly sighed and pushed his dish over to her. She tried the fish and the salad, waited a moment, before she was satisfied and pushed it back over to Flint. Then went back to her food like nothing happened.

Hailey pouted a bit. ”Mr. Kairo wouldn't poison you. That takes too much effort!”

Vale glanced at Hailey, before bowing her head a bit at Asterion. ”My apologies, old habits die hard. Flint has been… Well, burned before. It's my job to ensure he doesn't have to worry about that ever again.”

Flint stiffened at the table. ”Yes, let's talk about literally anything else.”

Hailey giggled, finding it incredibly funny. And, soon enough, everyone was eating their food. It was Hailey that voiced what may have crossed Flint and Vale's minds, as a curiosity.

”Mr. Kairo?” Hailey asked, a bit shy. ”I've seen you eat inexpensive dishes twice now, even though you could eat anything. Can I ask why?”

Asterion glanced at Hailey when she asked the question and he set down his fork on the cloth napkin that the other utensils laid on. “Why would I eat better than the poorest people in my district? And I was not always in such a high position of power, princess. I grew up poorer than dirt and I find comfort in these foods more than fancier things as well. They remind me of simpler times,” he confessed.

And by not spending money on myself constantly even though I do appreciate finer things. I am able to funnel money into aid shelters to make sure everyone in my district does not go hungry or they get access to the basic necessities of what they need,” Asterion explained. Which was something he had been doing since the very beginning. Making sure every approved individual in his district was able to get the necessities of food, water, clothing, and roofs over their heads.
People could not move into the Nickel district without going through application. People without approved cards, Nickel Citizen cards or tattoos, would be kicked out. They were not allowed to access housing. There were landlords and tenants that were regulated. People had jobs. Individuals were allowed to access schooling and higher education because he put money into making Nickel a paradise amongst the other districts in Nocturnia. He had his own little government and economy setup that kept things rolling steadily. “Most of everything is to make Nickel better for the people that are approved to live here even if it is simply not splurging every night,” he chuckled a little bit in amusement as he took another sip of his water.

Hailey stared in surprise. ”...Huh.” Before she grinned cheekily. ”Are you sure you're not a good person?”

Flint smirked. ”No one is a good person in Nocturnia. Now eat your food and stop pestering the man, Little Sister.”

Hailey let the look of admonishment pass over her face, before she dutifully took another bite of her pancake.

Asterion smiled, “As I said earlier, unorthodox, not good,” his eyes glanced at Flint when he emphasized it. “Exactly. No one can be truly good in such a world.




Time passed and everyone was finishing up their plates and drinks. Asterion sighed and glanced at Hailey, I am sorry, but I have to have you go back to your room. You and your brother can say your goodbyes,” he gestured to emphasize that they could take a few minutes. Susan was there taking the plates from the table.

Hailey's face crumpled a bit, but she nodded. ”...Okay…”

A look of conflicted emotions passed over Flint's face as he got out of his chair. Hailey moved to bury her face in his chest one last time, squeezing him tight.

”You'll do what he asks, and come get me tomorrow, right? You promise?” Hailey said in a small voice.

Flint patted his sister's head again, before taking her hand and walking with her towards the elevator and waiting escorts. ”I promise. I'll come get you.”

And with that, he let go of Hailey's hand, and nodded towards the escorts. It was time for Hailey to go.

Flint watched a moment longer, before returning to his seat, his jaw set firmly. A pause, hand clenching and unclenching, like he was really fighting with his own desires. Before his gaze locked on Asterion.

”You wanted to discuss some things. I'm listening.”

Asterion sat there and looked at the man, “For the situation at hand, you are doing a favor for me. I enjoyed listening to your plan, so I am asking you. What favor do you want me to do in return?” his eyes met Flint’s seriously. He was not playing a game or poking fun at the man. He was doing his reasoning, an eye for an eye, and he didn’t see the current situation to be an even exchange.

The man had surprises up his sleeve but they were surprises, so he couldn’t share them with Flint, and he was testing the man all at the same time by doing so.

Flint shook his head, a crass smirk alight on his face. ”Don't take me for a fool, Mr. Kairo. I tried to make you a pawn in my game, and I failed. You now have one piece of my heart. I'm not in a position to ask anything from you, except that you keep your word and return Hailey to me after I hand off 93rd Street to you.”

Everyone makes each other pawns in a game that they set the rules for, Mister Weathersteel. Now, I will not ask you again. What favor do you want me to do for you?” Asterion’s voice became serious and stern unlike any other tone he has used. Staring at Flint, he was not playing games, and he was not prodding and poking at Flint for fun.

Flint stared for a moment, his eyes narrowing despite the smirk not leaving his face. She shifted in his seat, procuring a pack of smokes and a light. Marlboro.

”You don't mind if I smoke in here, do you?” Flint asked, fitting a smoke between his lips and lighting it. A heavy scent of dried fruits and tobacco filled the air, smoke curling around Flint.

”...” Flint's face turned a serious tone, propping his smoking hand against his forehead, elbow on the table. He already had a favour he'd ask. It was the same goal that he had since the beginning of his campaign against Asterion.

His eyes stared unfocused at the table for a moment, before he glanced at Asterion. ”Did you ever figure out why I had Reid dressed like a military man?”

Asterion kept his eyes on Flint while he raised a hand. Someone went over to something and pressed a button and a few of the windows around the revolving floor cracked open. Letting fresh air in to make sure the smoke of the cigarette didn’t stain anything too aggressively. “No, I did not care to look that far into his mind. Plus, with how… pathetic his attempt was with the situation in Echo Chambers, I assumed he could not be military at all,” he stated plainly. Leaning back in his chair.

Thinking for a second before shaking his head, “I could learn anything and everything about Reid or little sister that I want. Or you —” he glanced at Vale and smirked. “ — though I cannot learn about Vale. Unless she tells me what she wants to.” Asterion’s eyes seemed to have a different hint in them while staring at her.

Then it went away when his eyes flicked back at Flint, “I understand that you do not want to work with mafias, Flint, little sister has told me plenty of things. How you hate me and my kind. How you will kill me the second you get a chance. And…” Asterion paused for a second. “... I enjoyed listening to your plan and I do not think our goals are far apart even if we come from opposite sides of the coin, Flint. If you believe you can tear down those walls and make the future better for Nocturnia. I will let you kill me, under one condition,” Asterion stared at the man before taking a drink of his water again.

Flint's eyes gained a light of curiosity. Masked, but still there. Asterion knew quite a bit, but still, it intrigued Flint.

”Oh? And what condition would this be?”

Asterion set down his drink and glanced to see who was still in the room. Zarek was the only one else in the room which he appreciated that the others left with Hailey. He didn’t want Elara hearing this, Krish, or anyone. The emotional reactions of others was something he didn’t want to deal with when it came to his own self. “I will help you get those walls to fall. I want the best for the people that deserve it. I want Nocturnia to be better than before. I want it cleansed but once those walls fall, I understand, it will need to be cleansed more. Once it is certain that Nocturnia will flourish and be better. I will let you kill me but only when it is certain that tearing those walls down was for the better,” he explained while taking another drink of his water before putting it down.

Plus, I cannot kill myself and no one following me will do so. I only suffer in this world the longer I am here and my gyft has done a number on my mind and body. One could say that I am losing myself or not myself anymore,” Asterion opened up a little bit. He knew Krish was catching onto the psychological issues that were becoming more and more present with time.

Flint and Vale shared a look. There was something in Flint's eyes. Pity, maybe. Not empathy, but something close to it.

”I get it. Fuckin’ gyfts, right?” His voice was black, as if he was speaking from experience.

He took a long draw on his Marlboro, considering Asterion's words. ”...Wasn't expecting you to offer yourself up on a silver platter.”

He pretended to consider it further, before he shrugged, leaning back in his seat. ”Deal. We can tear down the Wall together.

“Meanwhile… There was that little bit with Reid. I'll be honest, I wanted to see you and Del Guarde fight to the death. But perhaps we can do something different now. That favour? Wipe Del Guarde off the board.”


Asterion laughed a bit, a grin on his face, as his tongue slid across his upper pearly white teeth, “I do not think you get it, Flint, not my case,” how could anyone understand that? How your mind begins to merge with everyone you jump into but you have to do that at times to continue to do better for everyone but it was like cancer. Spreading. No cure.

The man stood up and dusted himself off at the thought, “No one gets it,” all the emotion fell from his face as if he was a husk of a person at that thought.

Flint merely looked at him, smiled, and held his silence.

Asterion nodded at the thought, no one did get it, but he wouldn’t continue to whine and bitch about it. Walking away from the table to one of the closed windows to stare down at the night lit city. “I was planning on getting rid of them anyways ~ Plus, I have a friend wanting the same outcome,” he let his head fall towards his left shoulder as he smiled at Flint and Vale before he looked back to the city with his hands behind his back.

If that friend is competent enough, I bet they have already started attacking the Del Guarde or have even a better outcome. You are taking 93rd for me. I will focus on Yellowbrick, hopefully by tomorrow night when we meet ~ The Del Guarde will be running from their nest like rats. Lose all their footings and steps. Then I will focus on eliminating their leader,” Asterion plainly said. His eyes have lost all of their emotion and the majority of emotion in his voice disappeared as well.

Flint couldn't help the evil smirk that crossed his face. ”That sounds like a plan.”

He glanced once at Vale, before he stood, adjusting his suit before staring at Asterion. The man was a picture of dominance over his district, looking down at it from above.

Flint found it a bit funny.

Chewing a bit on his Marlboro, Flint gave Asterion a side glance. ”If there's nothing more to discuss, I have some preparations yet to do…”

Asterion flagged his hand up as if he was telling Flint to wait and stop. He felt his hand up for about thirty seconds before that elevator door came open and Varek came through it with Reid. “Have a pleasant night you three,” he smiled slightly before looking back through the window. Varek walked up to Asterion with a questioning look.

Reid gave Varek a parting grimace, before glancing over at Flint. His face was colored in humiliation.

Flint only smirked, before giving Asterion a nod. ”We'll see ourselves out.”

And he held a hand out for Vale, which she took, and they went arm in arm towards the elevator. Flint gestured with a hand for Reid to follow them.

”Come, my man. Let's talk about your mission, and where it all went wrong.”

Reid's face grew hot, and he fell in line behind them. ”Y-yes, Sir.”

And the three departed from the revolving floor of the Kairo Skyscraper.

Start the invasion of Yellow Brick, we will burn the Del Guarde on stakes,” Asterion smirked a little bit and Varek seemed to be nervous. He shook his head without any debate or protest before leaving his boss alone.



Interactions Flint Weathersteel, Vale, Hailey, and Reid @Estylwen
Mentions Vaguely mentioning Matthias @ERode & The Del Guarde
Invading Yellow Brick
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LanaStorm

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Mentions: Interactions: Asterion (@The Savant)


Heart Takers & Weight Lifters


See the lifter?

Pumping iron along in a pretty gym, nobody is with her. Carrying the NPD required muscle mass of an olympian and the mental will of a navy seal of which both was acquired by Emily Newport through grit, dirty tricks and sheer brute strength did she get where she is today. Today was a provocative gym day, Noc-Noc Burger sports bra, the inklings of her blue blood tattoos hidden by the hem of her clothing but itching to escape her chest. A pair of gym shorts held the smaller woman together, each punch led to atrophy which led to growth.

Growth in Nocturnia meant destruction and chaos and that’s what was going on in the Detective’s body with each dumb bell press or shoulder fly she grew stronger. Though she would not be the only one seeking redemption through muscle, prowess and a good eating regime

The taller man stepped into the gym that was on the outskirts of the Nickel district and he glanced around to notice only a few people in the establishment. A worker that barely looked like an adult playing on his phone with earbuds in. Someone that looked like they might have worked there but it was difficult to tell — they were definitely cleaning equipment.

Walking past the large window that showed the majority of the gym, he noticed a silverish haired woman, but he didn’t pay any actual attention to her. He came in dressed quite nicely which might not be noticeable to anyone who was distracted working out and he passed the internal bay windows within a few seconds before going to the changing room.

After changing and coming into the larger area of the gym, he was in all black, and it looked like he was wearing a mock swat suit. Not the usual gym attire. He had an elevation mask that blended into the long-sleeve turtle neck that was clearly made out of breathable material with a vest over. A vest that only had weights. Tactical pants and boots. In the pockets of the tactical pants, there were weights too, and he was placing himself under immense pressure to train.

There was a few seconds when he passed by the woman in her training and he glanced at her. His twilight eyes flashing pinkish-purple for a second but he looked away. Asterion went over to a pull up bar to begin doing reps.

Oooohh who was this?

Purple eyed, weird attire and get up for the gym like he was some sort of super soldier. Nay, could it be the infamous Del Guarde? The blue blood put down her weights, potent sapphire blood running through her veins as she ended her workout for now to poke, gawk and flirt with the mysterious stranger before her. Sliding up and over to the heavy lifter she introduced herself, almost brushing against the man.

“Hey, heavy lifting you’re doin’ there huh?” The vixen spoke with honey and venom mixed together, a deadly combination. One that broke hearts, or backs.

The man honestly didn’t think he would be bothered with the lack of patrons in the gym though he found himself corrected. Holding himself up as he felt someone brush up against him, his brows furrowed, and he glanced over his shoulder to look at the woman who was now beside him instead of doing her own thing. He stared with somewhat of a questioning look before lowering himself down.

Lifting up his one hand, he pressed a few releases on the mask and it dropped into his palm while he inhaled. It was so odd to inhale through that mask versus being able to casually breathe, “Mhm. Today is my endurance and cardiorespiratory day, actually,” he casually spoke with her.

Deciding to show more interest and not be rude, he asked, “And how about you?” His darker eyes glanced over her, a quick pass of regard. She looked like she was barely over a hundred pounds soaking wet to him. A gentle curl of one side of his lips could be seen as if he thought of something funny. It was something funny to him since he imagined he was wearing what she weighed in weights but he kept that to himself.

Small digits slowly wrap around a bicep of his, Emily was not one to ask before touching. She took what she wanted “Ohhh your arms are massive man, you’re so big.” She said groping his arm for a moment before letting go for now, releasing the man from her truly ‘earth shaking’ grip. “Me? Mmmm.. I just try to work on everything y’know? I wish I could build muscle like that but I can’t, just not built for it? But don’t I look great?”

With a wink a spin the Emily did a 360, albeit she lacked the sweat and grit the man had built up for however many hours he ended up in the gym. When she finally spun around she catch her landing, staring up at the giant she was measly 5’8 compared to his massive stature. “Emily by the way, and your name handsome~?”

His body naturally tensed at being touched by the stranger. It wasn’t something he was able to control right away until he realized that she wasn’t a threat — not at the moment? She was definitely handsy without permission. At least she was pretty… he supposed.

What was this? There was a flick of suspicion in his eyes while she began to flirt with him. Did she come to the gym to flirt on guys that she thought was attractive? That was a little weird in his opinion. “You look attractive, yes,” his words were plain and almost hinted disinterest though he was being honest. She was attractive but he wasn’t sure why she was looking for any type of validation from him, a stranger.

Asterion,” he held out his hand which was gloved so he didn’t have to touch the public equipment with his bare hands. “It is a pleasure to meet you even if it is under such… unique circumstances,” he never had to introduce himself to anyone at the gym before. It was a little strange to him.

A friendly shake, for now, though it could have been a hug or bro fist Emily was not disappointed. The name rung a bell, a fancy little bell she had been hearing about. “Quite a name, so have you ever heard of me or are you as star-struck as I am my dear friend and hopefully, new pal?” She puffed out her chest feeling the aura of policing, and crime take over her body in a good way though she felt the bitter coldness of Kairo, maybe he had enough girls flaunting around him in his fancy tower?

The man looked at her, looked her up and down, and grew even more suspicious. Was he supposed to know who she was? There were plenty of people in Nickel as a whole without counting all the nameless faces in the city of Nocturnia. He shook his head, “I am sorry. I do not recognize your face or your name,” though she clearly recognized him, at least his name.

Am I supposed to know who you are? I do not mean to be rude, I do not get out much, I apologize,” Which was the truth. He was trying to think. Emily….Emily…Emily? Was there someone else in higher power named Emily? Emily was such a common name that he was starting to feel bad. Did he meet her before and forget? God… was his mind going out the window that much?

“D’aawww..” Emily’s hands soon fell onto her soft hips, yet those digits would attack his muscle mass later when they saw fit. “It’s fine, me? I’m just a lowly cop, protecting the weak and serving justice to criminal scum. If I was a good cop, I’d totally stop you and whatever evil plans you have planned in that genius brain of yours. But I’m pretty lousy, I’m kinda evil myself.” Emily slowly inflates herself back up bragging but none of her crimes could compare to the Nickel-Jumper of Nocturnia.

“I’m not sure what drew me over to be honest, was it your strength, that fact you look stressed or that you’re the most powerful mobster here right now in the flesh? I don’t mean to fangirl but, I just had to come say ‘hay’.” And there it was the truth, the truth always comes out Jumping into bodies or naught.

Asterion stood there and became very quiet while the woman went on about being upset which felt false in emotion along with a sense of humor in bragging that she was a cop — an evil one — and his eyes sharpened while she confessed that. Thinking about how he should go about this. A cop, good or bad, was standing in front of him. Her overdramatized interest honestly made him think she was trying to sugar him up without having the actual capabilities of doing so or… she wasn’t joking about being a fangirl and for someone that creeped him out.

Then a smirk appeared on his face with a huff, “I am sorry. I do not talk to officers without my lawyer being present,” Asterion’s tone was light and playful. He was trying to joke with her. He was somewhat interested in why she came over though she made it clear, she really didn’t know why she did, but he had a hunch that there were ulterior motives behind her playful charades.

And…” he paused for a second as he thought about his next words, his tongue running on the back of his top teeth before he continued, “I do not care for the flattery and the false praise. I am not one for any of that even if it is not fake,” Asterion wanted to make that clear. He didn’t care for being touched and she had already crossed that boundary though her words were more like spikes into his flesh.

“Oh come on Asterion, you don’t have a lawyer. He’s buff, and sauve like you but carries a mini gatling gun in his brief case ready to spring you from any situation.” A glance around and said lawyer was not present, or any goons he ran deep with for now - yay? She ran her hands through her hair, happens when you get sweaty lifting. Staying fit was a full time job but that was it was so hard not to call in sick!

“So what you’re too good for a compliment, pray tell what you’re musing up in Kairo Tower? Is it something that will change the city or you just kicking back from your ivory tower? Either sounds fun, and I’m a fun type of gal. You though, are definitely stressed. You should get a massage!” A smile grew on her face again, always ending on a positive note.

A roll of his eyes probably said more than any of the words he could have said in that moment. When she looked around, he did too, and he chuckled. “You still looked around,” his voice teased while he smiled more.

I would argue that I do not deserve compliments,” Asterion didn’t believe he deserved compliments even if they were truthful ones. It might have been how he was raised but he discovered through experiences — compliments were usually backhanded in some fashion or the person was lying. Hardly ever any truth in them especially between strangers.

He shook his head and put his elevation mask into his back pocket so he wasn’t holding onto it anymore. Instead of crossing his arms over his chest, he decided to place them into his front pockets since he didn’t know what to do with them at the moment. “And why do you believe that I am stressed?” he rolled the last word off his tongue like it was poison. The man didn’t know what not being stressed meant but that was a different argument.

Not giving her much time to answer such a stupid question, he went on, “And who do you think I should get a massage from? My schedule is a little busy so I tend to not have time and I tend to not have time to have fun with strange females who confess about being dirty cops to me, but I do love the idea of handcuffs,” Asterion chuckled at his own words. Finding them amusing. He could care less if she was uncomfortable by such a statement.

“I looked around because I’m careful, a little bit naughty too but anyone might come and ‘nap me. Not something I want, yet atleast.” Emily flicks her hair her bangs coming into play and falling naturally yet again. “Oh you’re one of those guys huh, punished. World on their shoulders, trying to redeem their sins. Power to you ‘brother’. Glad I didn’t have that burden, nay naught a care in the world for thee. Neither yonder nor hither, it’s fun. Taking ground, running into the fight. I could teach you, but you might say something like. ‘I don’t need teaching, I’ll teach myself’. Or something machoey, I don’t bite that much Asterion.” She huffed.

“You’re stressed because I can read it, smell it off you. It’s a scent only a woman can smell and you’re oozing in a half bottle of stress and the other half is of pity. It’s a turn off, but I can push past it. I’m sure the half naked babes you keep in that base of yours has smelt it too - bweheheheh. Now, don’t tell me you’ll reject two or three of them massaging you like, oh massages don’t matter. C’mon, live a little. I like a man who uses hand cuffs, it’s a bit kinky but it’s what you do after you cuff my hands behind my back that matters~” The vixen lingers a little bit closer to our gas mask wearing hero but saunters back a bit, giving him his precious ‘space.’

What would Krish say if he was here? Asterion thought for a second — she talks too much. Way too much. You always have to be careful about the ones that do not shut up but you have to be way more careful about the ones that barely talk — that is what Krish would be saying right now or something like it. He was better with women and socializing with strangers. Why couldn’t he be here to entertain her? “I am truly not interested in easy women, Emily,” he sighed out while shifting his weight. Her reference to half naked girls was somewhat insulting. What type of person did people think he was? In Emily’s case it sounded like he had no self control or responsibilities and he fooled around all day. Oh, how wonderful that would be.

I bet you could teach me a thing or two, but I really do not have time,” he confessed. “Nor do I have time for this,” he looked at the watch on his non-dominant wrist and sighed. His workout was ruined for today. Maybe he should have gone to the slightly busier gym that was closer to his skyscraper or he could have stayed home and worked out in his home gym but he was feeling like spicing something up in his routine.

Asterion nodded his head at the thought, “I usually do not let people touch me, at all,” his eyes grew with a seriousness. The man only allowed himself rare intimacy. He didn’t have time to play the bachelor. “Now what do you actually want? I could tell that you recognized my name. You keep flirting and attempting to degrade me at the same time, there must be something you that,” His mind was so used to exchanges that he didn’t believe she didn’t want something other than to fool around with their conversation and interaction. His attitude might have been influenced by the bombing that happened right at his skyscraper and around it. Plus, other things.

“Who hurt you my sweet purple eyed child.” A reassuring non-flirtatious hand laid itself on the nearest shoulder she could grasp. “So damaged, so torn that you think I would come up to you in the middle of my set. In the middle of the Emily Newport Nocturnia take over play list to talk Biz with a hunk like you? I am the one who should be flattered, but know at the gym nor on silk bedsheets will I ever talk business.” A few pats of her small hand reassures, or tries to reassure the giant all is swell.

“Tell me who did this to you, ruined your life and made you the roaring beast you are today. You must have some type of sad origin story, my intention was to flirt with you but now seeing you’re this poor broken thing. My bleeding, pumping heart covered in hundred dollar bills is telling me. Emily, you should see what’s wrong with this sweet boy, now Asterion who did this to you? Tell me, I’ll help you seek justice my dear sweet purple assassin… But uhh if you wanted to talk business, I could give you my number~?”

No ulterior motive, just lust and a heart aching for heart break.

Asterion’s eyes grew heavier with suspicion as she continued to talk and his eyes dropped to her hand that placed itself on his shoulder. Gently, he shrugged her off and stepped back. He began to laugh a little bit before his face twisted and shut the emotions down. Shaking his head in the negative, “You have a strange way of flirting and approaching people, Emily,” he commented in a flat tone.

I had no intentions of hooking up with a stranger today nor am I in the dire mood to share my emotions or cry about my feelings or the possible sadness of a backstory,” his voice was mocking as he rolled his eyes. “Go find someone else to be in between your legs and cry, Emily. I cannot be that man for you,” The man couldn’t be. She seemed to have a savior complex of sorts. Something that wanted to tug at the deeper emotions of someone while being intimate with him or anyone but he couldn’t find himself caring enough to go for it. Maybe it was the wrong time. Stress had him by a choke hold. His mind couldn’t relax enough to demand that desire but there was darkness lingering in his eyes. A darkness that was only attached to lust and something that flared with danger.

Looking down at his watch again, he shook his head, “My time is up. It was a pleasure to meet you, Emily Newport,” that was when a flash of knowing glimpsed his dark eyes. Emily Newport. He knew that last name. The man shook his head, “I have to get going,” Asterion stepped around her and began to head for the locker room.

“Bye~”

So she saw the giant leave, oh how she loved when they were toxic.


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Southern Exit Gate, Waterfront Vale
Mentions: Matthias (in passing) || Interactions: none


Adel was privy to many, many things. Confidential things, inconsequential things. The bevy of information he personally possessed was huge, and even larger was what he could get access to. However, out of all of them, there was one thing he knew to be truer than anything else:

He needed to get the fuck out of this city.

The cops and the mafias could fight over the fate Nocturnia. Adel didn't want to spend the rest of his life here.

Ultimately he was headed to Yellow Brick tonight, but since Matthias had given him a free pass in Waterfront Vale he stopped by the area first. He stood on the street in a casual coat, scarf, and gloves, smoking the second to last cigarette in the pack. Before him was the gate... one of only two gaps in the wall that surrounded the city. He thought of how easy it would be to walk up to those iron plates, whisper sweetly to them and watch them creak open just enough for him to slip through. He'd get a glimpse into the world beyond right before he was shot to pieces by the men tasked with keeping every person on one side of the wall or the other.

"Sir, step back behind the white line," a soldier called out to him, raising his hand to motion. Civilians and non-personnel could only get so close. Adel glanced down at his shoes. Barely a toe over the paint.

He shuffled backward, then turned and left. He didn't usually like indulging in fantasies, and there was only so much time left in the day. He had to get a move on, maybe let Matthias know about the woman poking around the area looking for him. Although surely the leader of the Order of Enlightenment wouldn't be dumb enough to get ambushed in the middle of his invasions. It could wait for the 'official report.'

He turned his steps northward.


A Quiet Cathedral, White Pine
Mentions: none || Interactions: none


Unfortunately for the pusher, the Canary's people were less than impressed with this offer.

"We need something better, man, not something we can find out in two minutes." Since their boss had been given some vials of the stuff already, some of their colleagues were already working on finding out what Sugarcrush did. It probably wouldn't take them long at all. "Where's it made? Hell, how's it made? C'mon."

“Fine, fine, I can tell you what I know. Where and how. But you realize I'm a dead man if this gets back to me. So you better make it worth my while…”

“Relax, nobody wants you risking your neck for nothing, right?” One of the men nodded to his tag along, who nodded back. The second man flashed a stack of bills.

The greed in the pusher's eyes was palpable. He licked his lips, looked over his shoulder once more, then leaned in.

”Alright. There's a hidden basement at the Irish Pint, that's where they make it. The codeword you tell the bartender is ‘gimmie sweets’. If it ain't there, it'll be at a warehouse in Heavy Crossguard on Dreadnaught Ave. Same code word. It means you're there to buy.

“They make it with this jelly-like glowy substance called Nyla. No one knows where they get it, but this jello is mixed with cocaine, and diluted. And bam, you got your Sugarcrush.”


“That’s more like it. Does the code word ever get changed?”

The pusher nodded. ”Once every Wednesday. The new code word coming up is ‘red bean mochi’. Swear, it's like a totally different person comes up with each code word. And the code word after that will be ‘gasoline sundae.’”

The first canary raised an eyebrow, mouthing the last password in confusion as his partner approached the mole. As he was about to hand over the cash he stopped, fixing the man with a hard look. “We both know this info is good, don’t we?”

”On my life!” The mole said. He hastily reached into his pocket, procuring an ID with his address on it. ”Look, my address. You come find me if the info isn’t good, hm? I wouldn’t fuck you guys over, I swear.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Seemingly pleased with the answer, the payment was finally made. The two groups split up without much other conversation, at different times and in different directions.


Front Office, Silverside
Mentions: Adel, Flint || Interactions: Cyrus (in collaboration with @Estylwen)


There were times when it was unfortunate for the Silver Canary that he was such a busy body. Like now, when he was currently out and unable to receive a guest personally. Thankfully for Adel, he had Griffon - and as soon as she spotted Cyrus Levine she sprung up from her chair and tossed her tablet onto a random desk. Love is Blind was going to have to wait - Swift's prediction somehow came true!

"Weeeeell if it isn't my second favorite boy toy," Griffon said, striding over to stand in front of him. She placed one hand on her hip. "You dressed up all nice just to come visit us?"

The boss wasn't around, but Cyrus didn't need to know that immediately. If he had time to come all the way here he had time to entertain her.

"And how much is that little something gonna cost, huh?"

Cyrus smirked. ”He's not in, is he?”

A long draw on his cigarette, the end cherry-red. His eyes creased a little, eyeing Griffon. If the great sphinx was out, his right hand tomcat could be trusted. She always had been dependable.

”Well, hon’. If you wanna broker a deal on his behalf, I don’ mind. I do take two cream, two sugar, though.” He said with a wink, hinting for a place a little more private.

For a moment Griffon just took stock of the man in front of her. She didn't look upset that he'd caught on so quickly - that was why guys like Adel and Cyrus did the sneaking and the snooping. She was just the one left looking after the nest. It worked out though, since Cyrus wasn't turning around and leaving. Not that she'd let him get very far without hearing her latest 'sales pitch.'

"Alright, come on," she said, turning and swishing one arm out to gesture towards a small room nearby. As the two of them walked, she snapped her fingers a few times to get another employee's attention. Like hell was she gonna act like an intern or something. "Somebody get this man his sweetener with a side of coffee."

It wasn't long before they were seated in a private waiting room. Griffon tipped her head at Cyrus, one of her eyebrows raised. Cyrus merely grinned in response, stamping out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray to take a sip of his coffee.

”Mm. Perfect.”

He seemed to inhale the aroma, as if giving himself a moment's respite, before giving Griffon a serious look.

”I've uncovered a new player on the board. One that may be more powerful than anything Nocturnia has faced. Not since the Wall was put up, at least.

“Getting ahead of this, and capitalizing on what I know is in your best interest. You and your boss will be able to sell this information as many times as you want - who isn't scared of the unknown they don't know, mm?”


He took another sip of his coffee, leaned back and comfortable as he was in his chair.

”50,000. (5 Wealth.)”

Griffon very nearly barked out a laugh - instead she scoffed, a small amused grin on her face. That was even more expensive than she would have guessed.

"So why aren't you selling it? Besides to us, I mean. Do you even have any proof there's some mysterious other group out there?"

”Not gonna try and talk me down? Come on, hon’, you and your boss know my info is always good.” Cyrus said with an easy smile, pulling out his cellphone. After a few seconds of scrolling, he found a recording, pressed play, and placed the phone on the table.

”So you're saying we just have to eliminate the mafias, and you'll let us out?”

The voice was clear, baritone, and focused. The voice that followed was a bit more of a drawl, and a lot more uninterested.

”Yeah, yeah. Get rid of those wannabe gangsters, and you'll get a free pass past the Wall. Access to the rest of the world, a clean record, whatever you want.”

”And you'll fund my ‘campaign’?”

”Yeah, whatever you need.”

The focused voice seemed to be practically beaming. ”Then you got a deal. I have a number of ideas to tear them down. I'll just need time.”

”You got it. You know how to contact me if anything comes up.”

The recording stopped, and Cryus smirked over at Griffon. ”You just listened to the esteemed M.PHAT, or in real terms, known as Flint Weathersteel. He was on call with none other than one of those bastard militant leaders outside the Wall, watching over us like our own brand of angels…

“You can see why a military-backed faction hell-bent on destroying the other mafias is bad news, right?”


"Yeah, of course," she said. The loss of business being the primary reason, potential bloodshed of this little 'campaign' notwithstanding. Griffon pressed an index finger to her forehead as she considered the situation.

"I mean you're right - you do have a brain in that cute head of yours. You are frustratingly good at your job," she said after a moment, "so I'll buy your story... figuratively! No way am I paying for what you just told me - I'm not looking to lose my cozy job over 50 Gs.

"Buuut maybe we could pay for any other details you got on that whole situation. Try a little lower though. Or hey-" Griffon leaned forward in her own seat, getting a little closer to Cyrus and grinning at him. "Job offer's still on the table, too."

”I'll one-up ya, hon’.” Cyrus said easily. ”How about we work out a whole-sale deal? You come to me with questions, I get you info. And you and your boss can turn around and make a profit on it. You just gotta give me more business - that Canary, always the independent, ‘I-can-do-this-on-my-own’ fellow.”

He shrugged, sipping on his coffee again. A relaxed sigh of contentment, before that easy smile was on his lips again. ”I know times are a bit tough for your boss. So how about this. $10,000 for everything I know on the Flint, and their play with Kairo. All I ask is that you come to me more often.”

“You want to keep seeing me that much huh,” the older woman teased. She leaned back and crossed one long leg over the other. Truthfully she thought it was a pretty good deal, but she wondered if Adel would be pissed if she took it on his behalf. Just as Cyrus said, the Silver Canary preferred to do things on his own. Going to see their westside competition for info also seemed kind of… well, submissive? Or maybe the boss would just see it as yet another cost of doing business.

Eh, what the hell, Griffon thought. After another moment of contemplation she stood up, one gloved hand in the pocket of her slacks and the other extended out to Cyrus.

“Sounds like a deal, boy toy.”

His hand clasped around hers, shaking firmly. He let himself chuckle a bit. ”I know his hesitation. I don't bite, much.”

He finished his coffee and set it on the table, pulling out a new smoke from his pocket and lighting it. After taking a drag, he settled into his seat, recounting his information.

”So, after getting in cozy with the outside military, Flint's first notable move was today. He had his girl make a mess near that tower while another one of his boys tried to steal from Kairo’s strip club. He was dressed like a soldier, trying to make it appear like he was Del Guarde. Flint attempted to get those two factions to start fighting each other, and he would have been successful, if his boy hadn't been caught…

“Flint runs… well, he's not a mafia. He'd kill you if you called him a mafia. No. He runs what he called a revolution, with a bunch of revolutionists under him sold on the dream of breaking down the Wall. With his military backing, he can afford a lot despite not owning any of the city's districts.

“What's interesting is that he tried to dog out Del Guarde. So… It's possible there are two different types of military factions in this city.

“And regarding Del Guarde, I feel like they are connected with the outside forces surrounding the Wall. A lot of those calls don't travel far.

“The call with Flint, though? The guy he was on call with was miles away. All the way in Washington. Makes me think CIA, but that's a theory.”


Griffon whistled at the information, even if it was just Cyrus’ thoughts. The CIA, huh? “I’m not really surprised the CIA’d throw some money around to try and get all of us to eat each other alive, but I am kind of wondering why a guy like Weathersteel would even believe they’d let him out of the city after its done. They’re not gonna allow him to tear down the wall - they’re not gonna let anybody out, ever. Why would they?”

If she was in Flint’s shoes, she’d still take the cash though. Getting paid to take out his rivals was a good deal, as far as Griffon saw it. “He’s gotta have some kind of other plan in mind, I bet. Something crazy,” she said. “I guess not even you would know that much though.”

Cyrus gave her a conspiratorial look, clearly enjoying this. ”Well. There’s a reason they call him a revolutionist.”

‘Well sure, but…’” She paused, working through a few of the pieces of information in her mind. Tons of wannabes thought themselves agents of revolution, even regular people without gyfts. But if this guy had the funds and the manpower to eliminate Nocturnia’s mafia groups, if he got his hands on their wealth and personnel, on whatever equipment the other military group in the city had… then would it actually be possible it bust a hole in that wall?

Griffon stared at Cyrus, her golden eyes darkening a little more seriously. “That’s actually insane. Do you really think he has a chance?”

Cyrus leaned back in his seat, propping his head behind his hands, staring up at the ceiling. Smoke curled past his lips as he smirked.

”I'll tell you a little story. Once upon a time, there was a mafia raid on a house. Forty men strong, all armed to the teeth. The sounds of chaos ensued in the house. But by the end of it? Only one man was standing. A man wholly unbothered by the bloodsoaked floors of his house, and the mutilated bodies.

“That man, was Flint.”


His arms dropped, and he leveled a serious expression at Griffon. ”He will cause Nocturnia to be emptied, through death, or through tearing a hole in that Wall.”


42nd Street, Silverside
Mentions: Adel, Ezra || Interactions: Webb (in collaboration with @SporkoBug)


It was a cold start to the month, especially after the sun started to set. People hurried to and from the warmth of buildings with their coats pulled close. Swift was much the same as she made her way back to the office. She had nothing to show from her time in Heavy Crossguard besides the known fact it was a hub of industry, both the legitimate and illegitimate kind. There were suspicious people and places, but nothing like what her boss had been asking for… not that he had been specific. That was the frustrating part about him, how secretive he was even with his own people.

She sighed. As she considered calling a cab for the remainder of the trip, something ‘more suspicious than usual’ pinged her radar. The shape was fuzzy due to the quiet way it was moving, but it was person shaped - and moving around well above the ground.

What in the world… Swift thought to herself. She glanced around, then changed directions to move towards the mysterious thing. She opened her mouth slightly, releasing a noise outside of any other human’s hearing - but whose soundwave could be felt on the sensitive legs of arachnids.

Webb paused as he felt a soundwave, his ears pricked up and the pupils in all four of his eyes became slits for a moment before he gave a small shiver.
What was…? He looked around slowly before he completely stopped his travel movements.

His ears twitched, that noise wasn’t natural, but he couldn’t figure out where it was. His second pair of arms slowly tensed, he wanted to head back to his house; but he had a job to do, he needed to be here.

Where coming from? He narrowed his eyes as he tried to trace where the sounds came from, instinctively stepping back towards the darkness of an alleyway; pulling his feet away from the ground in case that was how he was being tracked.

He awkwardly sat against the wall with his feet holding most of his weight as he looked out towards the street, trying to think of where the noise would have come from.

As he waited, another soundwave brushed gently against him. The noise came irregularly, but was growing stronger each time - which meant that the source was getting closer. And for Swift, the image she was getting back was getting clearer. Her brain fit the echos and vibrations together into a picture that suggested some kind of creature… someone with an unfortunate gyft perhaps? Powers that changed people into part animals were not unheard of after all. She could leave the person alone, but they were on her -and therefore her boss’- hometurf. If they were a citizen whose gyft had just manifested, she might be able to help. Maybe even bring them into the group. And if they were a troublemaker… then she’d quickly find out.

By the time Webb was able to see Swift, she was able to see him. Technically. She brushed her brown hair away from her face and squinted up at where the shape was from the mouth of the alley. She knew his outline and could tell he was there, but in the darkness he was concealed from her sight.

“Hello,” she said, her voice quiet and calm. She did not move towards the unknown. “Even around here it can be a little dangerous at night. If you need help I can escort you to the Jeweled Bank line.”

Webb felt the waves as they came at irregular intervals, he waited as they felt like they were getting stronger - Meaning whoever was making them, and he was sure it was a someone, was getting closer to him.

He readied himself, closing his eyes as he took a breath inwards before he noticed Swift coming towards him.
Not am looking for, but possibly friend? He thought to himself before he narrowed his eyes a bit before she slowly got closer.

”You… Work for Canary?” He asked, his shakiness wasn’t feigned in his voice; admittedly he was still very new to the whole ‘speaking to people’ thing, and this was his first job where he had to go find someone like this.
”I need… Canary help, Offer valuable information - Secrets. Being hunted.” he tried to explain in a way that hopefully Swift would understand.

To say that Swift was surprised at the creature’s response was an understatement. She blinked owlishly, and then smoothly tempered her expression into one of neutrality.

“Why do you need the Canary’s help?” She asked carefully. That had to be addressed before accepting anything. “They don’t run a shelter. If someone is after you, you can seek the police or pay a fixer.”

Webb watched Swift carefully, taking in her features and mannerisms. He breathed in, trying to figure out his next words carefully.
How was he going to let her know that he needed to see the Canary and not just a police officer.

”The.. Midnight man.” Webb spoke, Ezra’s ‘working’ name, as Webb understood it, hopefully Swift would understand what he meant. ”After me, told Canary help..” He tried to piece the words together, scrunching his nose a little.

”Have, value secret.” He spoke, ”Found out… Not supposed to know. Will, help Canary.” He half urged towards Swift, slowly moving himself down off the wall to show he meant no harm, flattening his ears as he awkwardly half-stepped from the shadows to reveal himself.

His clothes looked like he would have been in a bit of a scuffle, shirt torn in a few places; dust and dirt on other pieces. ”Please.”

Swift stayed quiet for a few seconds. She knew the shape of the creature already, so it didn’t come as a surprise when she saw him with her eyes. Poor thing, she thought. He was small, possibly even a child. And targeted by the Midnight Man?

“Alright, we can help you,” she told him. For the moment, at least, it couldn’t hurt. “My name is Swift. What’s yours?”

”Nice to meet Swift, name is Webb.” He gave a soft smile as she said she’d help him, his ears pricking up from his scruffy hair. ”Thankful for help. Was worried would not find.” He relaxed his shoulders, his little hands relaxing in the evening wind before he gave a bit of a shiver.

He instinctively took a mental check of where he kept the envelope that was meant to go to the Silver Canary; and thanks to Ezra’s kindness giving him lunch earlier, he was able to not have to worry about hunting for at least the next night - Even more if he was offered food here.

Swift made a humming noise to show she was listening. She crouched down slightly to make herself even less threatening.

“It was a good thing I found you instead of… hm. We’ll leave it at that,” she said. “Before I bring you to see the boss, who told you about the Canary…?”

Webb instinctively tilted his head as she crouched, his fur bristled slightly but he knew she wasn’t trying to scare him in any way. He blinked his eyes carefully as she talked about someone else finding him instead.

Uh oh. Webb thought when she asked about how he knew about the Canary, he definitely couldn’t blurt out ‘the one who is hunting me’, he flicked his ears a little.
Did he know someone viable to say?

”Heard talks from people. Spend a lot time on walls, roofs.” Webb explained, moving to use his hands to form a sort of roof shape. He hoped he was able to properly get his point across. ”Sensitive ears, pick up words ease.”

That sounds believing…

“Mhm. And where did you come from Webb? What area of the city?”

Webbs’ ears instinctively drooped a little. ”I do not have a proper place.” He said quietly, ”I have shelter- Xavier Tower, but I float.”

That’s in Jeweled Bank, Swift thought. Not far at all, that was good. Before she spoke again she tried offering Webb a smile, though it hardly reached her eyes.

“I see. Thank you for answering my questions. I know you came all this way, but Mr. Canary is away from home at the moment. If you meet me here tomorrow I can bring you to see him. Is that alright?”

Webb’s ears drooped at the mention of the Canary not being in, but the offer of being brought to him felt good. He gave a small nod to her words, ”That sounds good.” He said before he paused, ”Same place? Can offer number for texting?”

He admittedly had completely forgotten the phone that Ezra gave him, it would be a helpful tool in everything he was doing.

“Sure. Here.” There was slight amusement in Swift’s voice as she swapped phone numbers with the strange bug boy. Once that was settled she stood to her unimpressive full height and watched Webb take his leave. She waited until she could no longer see him with her sonar before she left her spot by that alleyway. She didn’t put her phone away as she resumed her return to base, instead flicking it back open and dialing a certain number.

“This is Swift. No need, Heavy Crossguard was quiet. Sorry to disappoint you. However I did run into something… peculiar. I was unable to determine if it was a threat or not, so I’ll be counting on you tomorrow to help me. We’ll be hosting them at the office. Mhm.”

A long pause.

“Oh yes. Extremely suspicious.”


In the Brewery District
Mentions: none || Interactions: none


Meanwhile, as the evening progressed in Nocturnia's east side, it being a Tuesday didn't stop some people from enjoying the nightlife. The Brewery District wasn't called that just for fun, and wealthy young adults hopped from bar to bar and club to club. Though most traveled in groups or pairs, it was the singles that a few of the Canary's men kept their eyes on. One of them reached out to steady a lone stumbling bearded man before he tripped into the street. The man laughed and mumbled a thank you, but before he got any further the spy leaned in with an offer. "You want to have some more fun, friend? Get really fucked up?"

Assuming that the other man was just one of many random drug dealers in the city, the bearded man responded with an enthusiastic, "hells yes," and let himself be guided away. Without a forensics lab or anything of the sort, they had to experiment with Sugarcrush the natural way - and with a semi-willing test subject at that. They set the man up in the back of a luxury SUV, pushed his sleeve up and tied his arm off, about to see the effects of this ‘new drug’ themselves.

The needle pierced the skin, and the bearded man stared for a long moment before he suddenly swooned. ”Oh maaaan, the hell is that.”

He started giggling like a little girl, absolutely delighted with the high coming on, almost not noticing, or not caring, about the glowing purple veins that snaked over him, or his irises glowing a bright purple.

“What the hell…” The three canaries look at each other. One hovered nervously near their guinea pig, the syringe still in hand. This was some supernatural shit, had to be for the guy to be glowing from the inside out like that. After a beat one of them flicked out their phone, finally thinking to document what was happening.

It was a few minutes later that the man flopped around a little more, his giggles turning into full-on laughter. A crazed realization glowed behind his eyes, and he tore off the tie, raising his hands. In his palms, little crystals of ice began to form, mist wafting off them.

”I… I have a gyft!” He exclaimed.

He reached for the door of the SUV, coating it in ice instantly. The ice disintegrated, leaving a gaping hole in the back of the SUV that he stepped out of. And he moved down the alley, his feet sending out waves of ice that froze the concrete. Anyone who got too close would begin to feel themselves freeze up, starting from the feet, and very quickly it would encompass their whole body.

As the man high on Sugarcrush made it to the mouth of the street, he stared at his misting hands with delight, not noticing that his powers were far out of control. Around him in a sixty degree radius, people were freezing over in seconds. Cries of terror filled the street… and back at the car, the people responsible for it argued over what to do.

“Call the cops!” “Hell no, they’ll connect it back to us.” “Then let’s get the fuck out of here before they get here anyway?” “We’re so fired…” “Wait, we can handle this, just…”

The men were covered in frost, spared only by the fact that Nocturnia’s newest gyfted had run before their bodies had been frozen solid. The lot of them had already fallen into hypothermia, but the adrenaline of the situation kept them on their feet for the moment. Two of them hopped out of the hole in the SUV and drew the handguns they carried for protection, leveling the weapons at the ice man and firing.

As the bullets were fired, they impacted with a wall of ice, the Sugercrush-high man turning back in confusion, before he stared incredulously.

”What the hell! Some pusher you lot are!”

And he growled, the wall cracking and falling, bullets falling uselessly to the ground. He raised a hand, and shards of ice appeared in the air around him. With a throw of his hand, hundreds of ice shards, sharp like knives and with the velocity of golfball-sized rocks, sailed towards the canaries as they dove out of the way. The shards easily tore up the SUV, littering the roof and insides with holes that started to ice over. Their last man inside wasn’t lucky enough to avoid the ice; he pressed shaking hands to the punctures in his stomach even as the wounds began to freeze.

“Shit, shit-” one of the other men repeated as he scrambled up from the pavement. Maybe they couldn’t handle this. The plan had to change now. He went and ripped the license plates from the car, opened the SUV’s door and discharged the gun to destroy the VINs. No way would the vehicle last long, so they’d have to abandon it. It was time to bail… for the most part. They might still be able to save their jobs if they kept watch and reported on everything that was going to happen, but they had to save their own skins first.

Satisfied that the canaries had given him some space, the man went to go enjoy his high and his new powers. It was about ten minutes more of this, a miniature ice age spreading death and chaos on the streets, before he began to crash. Then he laid as an unconscious, crumpled heap on the sidewalk.

It was going to be impossible to cover the event up. Of course wild gyft manifestation was something that just happened in Nocturnia, but if the ice man talked people would know about the drug. Even if he OD’d if forensics got their hands on him then they’d find out. It was a lose-lose for the group that wanted to keep the information secret in order to make a buck off of it.

Only one of the Canary’s men remained at the scene. The other two had high tailed it out of Brewery to find a hospital after making sure the car was destroyed enough that it would be impossible to track it back to Silverside. He hesitated in the shadow of a tavern, keeping watch over the unconscious drunk and periodically texting information back. What the fuck were they supposed to do about this?

…well, when in doubt, call the boss.


At Night in Yellow Brick
Mentions: Glyde, Matthias, Vincent, Akula Crew || Interactions: none


Getting into Yellow Brick had been rather casual for it being a military occupied borough. Maybe it was because they had to masquerade as NPD that they weren't as strict or vigilant as the men stationed at Nocturnia's gates. Or more likely Adel just didn't raise any flags for them as he moved around, looking like just another random citizen of the area. Besides, Del Guarde was only "allegedly" military at the moment. Adel was fairly sure that they were, but he could never be 100% certain about something without seeing it for himself - which was why he was in Yellow Brick in the first place. He'd get all the information he could here and give it back to the Lodestar, but then again... if he could broker some kind of deal with their leader...

Adel puffed on his cigarette as he walked, shrugging his coat a little tighter around himself. His gaze flickered around the streets, where Del Guarde men were stationed, where civilians seemed to be congregating before the night was over. He passed by the old courtyard and the police department in it, only slowing down to take in the exterior details.

Eventually he came across something promising. In the dark parking lot of some old long closed business there was a cop car. Its single occupant was in the driver's seat, looking quite bored out of their mind.

No partner? Adel wondered, glancing around for any sign of one. Gone for now, or maybe one trained soldier was worth two of Nocturnia's badges. Didn't really matter, anyway. Adel pulled his scarf up a little higher and kept an eye out as he slowly approached the car.

"Hey, officer! Do you have a moment?"

The Del Guarde posing as an officer looked up in surprise, before rolling down the window. ”Yes? How can I help you?” His voice was smooth, as if he was very much used to his role.

His partner, as fate would have it, was in a very long line to get burgers and fries.

"It's just..." When Adel started speaking he had to push Commissioner Franchesca's comment from earlier out of his mind. His tone carried some amount of concern with it, as he hoped to sell the image of a normal, well meaning citizen. "My daughter's been pretty scared today, you know with the bombing the district over and the plane this morning... We saw it drop something around here and I just wanted to reassure her that it wasn't another bomb. Did you guys find it and what was in it?"

This was how it usually went: try and get the information for free, then with money, and only then with violence. Normally no one gave anything away for free in Nocturnia, but sometimes a little casual conversation went a long way. If this guy was from outside the wall, maybe he could be duped like this. If he was too well trained, then onto plan B it was. Adel usually carried cash for plan B, and if it came down to plan C he always had his 'personal safety device' on him.

"You know how it is, right? Do you have kids, officer?"

The Del Guarde didn't miss a beat, offering an easy smile. ”Got a daughter of my own. You'll be pleased to hear it was just an aid drop of designer clothes. Even had a few children's clothes in there. Your daughter may get to see them in the shops soon.”

"Oh! Clothes? That’s weird… why would they send that by plane and not through the normal aid trucks?" He leaned in a little conspiratorially. "I’ll tell her it was clothes, but between us, what really was it? Something that can keep us all safe I hope?"

The Del Guarde narrowed his eyes at Adel, his suspicion starting to peak. Before his eyes widened. ”Hey, wait a second. Don't I know you…?”

"Me? Oh, maybe. I've been around the area a few times."

Adel searched the man’s eyes and found that, as expected, plan A was probably not going to work. It was better not to drag it out. He turned away to take a drag of his smoke first though. When he turned back he smiled, the corners of his mouth only barely visible from behind his scarf.

"...jeez, is that really the story you guys came up with? Designer clothes?"

His voice returned to its more natural, neutral tone. "You don’t get paid enough to sit around and make up stories. Will this gig even qualify you for a pension? I'll just cut to the chase. Tell me where and what that early Christmas present really was and you can walk away with an early holiday bonus for yourself."

The Del Guarde appeared to be more straight-laced than Adel had given him credit. His face twisted with disgust and open suspicion, eyes scanning Adel’s face again and again. He was actually at a huge disadvantage here - Adel stood over him while he sat in his seat. Time to change that.

”...I’m gonna ask you to step back, turn around, and raise your hands, buddy.” He said, hand on his holstered gun.

Why does it seem nothing is working out for me today? Adel thought as plan B immediately fell apart. He’d clearly underestimated the corruption level of people from outside the wall. He stood there for a drawn out moment, considering his options and locked in a staring contest with the fake cop.

He sighed and stepped back, raised his gloved hands to show there was nothing in them. Let the guy think he had the situation under control for the moment.

”...I said turn around.” The Del Guarde said, beginning to open his car door. He'd detain the guy, run his ID and name. If this character was who he thought he was…

Well, it was quite the opportunity.

”Fine,” Adel said as he turned on his heel, shuffling over a step as he did so. He could have easily stopped the man from getting out, pulled out his gun and threatened him, but that wasn’t really the Canary’s style. So he sighed again as the Del Guarde stepped out of the car with his hand still hovering over his sidearm. When it didn’t seem like the suspicious man was going to try anything he reached for Adel’s wrists.

He didn’t hear the silky whisper that came from the man in front of him. The word was cloying, coaxing, commanding; and its target had no choice but to obey.

The back door of the vehicle swung open violently. Taken by surprise the Del Guarde jumped to assess the threat, but when his hand went to his gun he found it already removed from the holster. Adel had been expecting the sudden noise after all, and when the Guarde turned to process what happened he had turned to relieve the man of his weapon - and then shove the guy’s back so that he ended up in the wrong part of the vehicle with the door slammed shut behind him. Now he was trapped between bulletproof plastic and leather seats.

Without any further dramatics Adel slid into the driver’s seat and closed that door, fiddling with the dash mounted computer.

"Should’ve just taken the money," he said to the man before he whispered to the laptop and watched the screen flicker and fill in the soldier’s login info.

There was frantic banging, ”What the hell?! Let me out, you bastard! I know who you are! You goddamn Canary!” The Del Guarde's voice broke, betraying a strong fear. He had played right into the Canary's hands…

Adel didn’t respond, though the fact that his existence was a known element to even outsiders like Del Guarde was something he catalogued for later. He’d be a little more careful in the future around them, but at the moment what’s done was done.

He searched the databases the computer was connected to. He wasn’t really the hacker sort as he didn’t need to resort to it, but at this point in his life he was fairly used to how these systems looked and how they operated. He worked quickly.

"Hm, you really do have a daughter," he said after pulling the man’s information up. The comment was made casually, but not without an implication. He let his eyes flicker to meet those of the trapped Guarde for a moment. "I’m getting out of here with the information I want, so you can either help or keep your mouth closed. For everyone’s sake."

The Del Guarde gritted his teeth, staring back before flickering to the computer, then back at the Canary. His voice was hoarse, eyes tight.

”Please, leave my little girl out of this. She's got nothing to do with it. I-... I'll tell you what you want. Anything.”

"Start with the airdrop. What is and where is it."

The man's voice was hurried and quivering. ”An M134 GAU-17 Gatling gun. The second crate was ammo for it. They're both in the basement armory at the PD station in Yellow Brick. The code is 2-21-9-12-4-20-8-5 23-1-12-12. There's a second hidden panel at the back of the armory. You have to input the same code there within two minutes, or the alarm goes off…”

"Good," Adel said, completely calm on the outside. On the inside, a little alarm bell was going off. A fucking minigun…?! If there was still even a sliver of doubt that Del Guarde was military, that was long gone now. "Where do you plan to use it…?"

There was only a hint of hesitation from the Del Guarde. Of course he knew. That's what everyone was getting prepared for.

”Heavy Crossguard.” He said through gritted teeth.

Unsurprising, really. Once again Adel didn’t respond. He clicked through the laptop, pulling up dossiers on the various members of Del Guarde he thought might be important. Their captain, of course, and any of the higher ranking men and women. He scoured the screen, briefly glancing at the time in the corner. He didn’t want to push his luck by sticking around too long, especially since he was feeling a particular lack of luck that day.

"Don’t suppose your boss would be any more receptive to a deal than you were," he said, tapping a finger on the side of the computer.

The Del Guarde’s face grew a bit sweaty. ”There's talk. Movement at the borders. Merryland is gone. He uh, may be more, uhm, amiable, than normal.”

Some possible good news for once. After getting what he’d come for Adel fished a small cardboard rectangle from his jacket pocket, placed it on the keyboard and shut the laptop. "Well then. Tell Sarge you were visited by an informant. You sent the guy away but still got the card. Give him the card. Nobody needs to know that devoted husband and father Private First Class Gonzales said anything to anyone, right?"

Gonzalez was sweating bullets. ”Y-yes. Of course. Not a word. I'll pass on the card.”

"Great. Might want to think up a good excuse for why you locked yourself in the back of the car too."

"Wha-" Thunk. Adel extracted himself from the vehicle, shamelessly scooped up the still smoldering cigarette that had fallen earlier, and hurried away.

He slunk back through alleys and quiet streets, and once he crossed over into the next borough he allowed himself a huge exhale. Jesus Christ. A minigun. Whatever poor people that was going to be used on were going to be mulched. Adel reached up to remove the hair tie from the back of his head, flicked his phone out and called for a driver. It'd been a real long day. It wouldn't take long for the car to arrive, but while he waited he sent a short and simple message to his current client Matthias: Got it.

Nestled in the back of a rather simple looking sedan, Adel let his head thunk against the headrest. Personal drivers were definitely one of the better luxuries in life, he thought. Though he tried relaxing, he knew he'd be tense until they got back - and probably after that too. His brain sorted through the day's events, the new pieces of information, the agenda forming for tomorrow. He'd have to meet with the Order, collect, and then—

His phone's vibration cut through Adel's thoughts. He glanced at the number on the screen: one of his people. Why the hell would they be calling instead of sending their findings back to the office? Or calling Griffon if they were in trouble? Adel sat up and rubbed a hand on his forehead, eyes squeezed shut for a moment to fight off the oncoming headache before he answered.

"What is it?"

After a few seconds of silence Adel made a rather interesting noise, partially surprise and partially anger. The driver checked on his boss in the rear view mirror, finding Adel making with a tightly clenched fist pressed hard to forehead.

"I'm not even going to ask why the fuck you thought that was a good idea-" he replied, exasperated, to the person on the other end of the phone. When he'd told them to find out what the deal with Sugarcrush was, he had expected them to bribe their way into a lab, or at least do some tests in a controlled environment. Fuck, if they had to abduct someone at least have the common sense not to test it on the street! "-but yeah, obviously don't just leave him-"

A pause. "No. No, do not-" Adel pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment, turned his face up and his previously clenched fist now clawed like he wanted to strangle someone. His driver very wisely took his eyes away and just focused on the road without a word.

His day was so close to being over, now there was this. His guy was rattled enough that he wanted to kill their test subject and be done with it, which in Adel's opinion was the worst option. A murder on top of everything else would make it too obvious what had happened. At the moment, from an outside perspective all that had gone on was some party boy manifested a gyft and went wild with it. Of course, if the guy started telling people he'd gotten said gyft from a drug some might believe him - which would make Vincent's Sugarcrush a known element. Which would then bring Vincent's attention east, which was close to the last thing Adel wanted.

"Damn it," he sighed. He thought for several long moments, ignoring the slightly concerned voice on the other end of the call. Eventually a plan began to hatch, and Adel brought the phone to his ear properly once more.

"That gang of smugglers in Brewery, the Akula Crew. Yeah. Implicate them. Leave the guy right where he is, scrub any sort of clue you were involved. You're just another curious bystander that heard Akula brought something new in, alright?"

After that they didn't need to stick around. In fact it would be best to leave the area as soon as possible. With instructions to leave by way of Corlet, the call disconnected and Adel clasped the phone between both of his hands. More and more problems were popping up. As an information broker he didn't exactly like spreading misinformation, bad for the bottom line and all, but no one would be able to track the incident back to Silverside. At least not for a while, more than enough time bought if Vincent came looking for his missing shipment after learning what had happened in Brewery.

After a moment Adel cracked open a new pack. Silence took over the car for the rest of the drive.
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Hidden 10 days ago 10 days ago Post by flux
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flux Tuna Tube

Member Online


Akula gun team: Clover




Mentions: @Yankee Canary's ice man, @The Savant Presider of Noc burger
The Brewery District - Underground


An alarm beeped. The man squeezed his eyes shut. Not again.

“Get up!” The largest man in room grabbed the smallest from a makeshift bunk and tossed him to the floor. “Contacts up above, get geared!”

The smallest man of the four bounced and scrambled to his feet. “Piss off with the falsie’s Donkey! We drilled this morning let us sleep.” The smallest man’s face fell as Donkey launched a helmet at him. Barely catching it he tossed over his mattress revealing the rest of his gear. “Shit, no drill?”

Donkey was already pulling something reminiscent of a space suit on. “No drill Snaptrap. Report is active shooter. Be ready.”

Rushing through preparations they stormed through tunnels beneath the streets, head lamps carving through the darkness, helmet filters working double time under laboured breath. Soon they reached an access ladder. Donkey paused only to hurriedly brief the group. “We rise around the corner from the report. Eliminate the threat, secure the site. No idea what we’re dealing with so be ready for anything.”

Snaptrap argued. “Going in blind as fucking moles. Why not let some badge’s cop it?”

Donkey was already moving up the ladder. “Because the good people of the district pay us to actually do something about it, now start climbing.” Snaptrap complied as Donkey called out again. “And because you’re such a hero, you get to be point man tonight.”

Snaptrap muttered. “Goddamn it.”

Donkey threw off the manhole cover and forced themself upward. Snaptrap followed quickly forming a perimeter while the other two emerged shortly after. With everyone ready Donkey pointed for Snaptrap to peek around the corner. Grumbling Snaptrap moved forward and leant around the building for a quick glance only to find himself staring.

Donkey moved up behind. “What do you see?” Snaptrap didn’t reply, just slowly went around the corner with weapon raised scanning the street. Donkey seethed a whisper. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

Snaptrap lowered his weapon, still fixated on the scene in front of him. “Whatever happened here we missed the party.”

Donkey peeked around the corner and found themself staring as well. The street was frozen over, people trapped in ice with what appeared to be snow flaking upward as everything began to melt. Snaptrap leant closer to Donkey. “Think it’s safe to go in?”

Donkey nodded. “I think so. Worst case the suits will keep you safe.” He paused looking over the freeze again before adding to his statement. “To a point at least.”

Walking into the glacial hellscape it was hard not to be distracted by the people frozen in place. Faces contorted into different portraits of shock and horror, a few surprised and one just smiling dumbly. At the centre was the culprit, face down, ass up, snoring. Donkey and Snaptrap looked to each other, then to the man on the ground. As they watched, the mans snoring reached a crescendo, stopped abruptly, then after a smacking of lips continued again.

Snaptrap was the first to break the silence. “I’ve seen some weird shit, but this is just…”

Donkey blinked at the sight before contributing. “Yeah. I don’t know about you, but if I were a genocidal maniac, my first instinct after a slaughter wouldn’t be nap time.”

Snaptrap shuffled his feet. “I mean, you don’t know that. Would’ve taken a lot of effort this. Big business needs the big sleep. One biddy bee, Mr McBiddy… bizzy-buzz-boy.”

Donkey just looked blankly at Snaptrap. “What? Are you having a stroke?”

Snaptrap began bouncing their foot. “Shit I don’t know man. I’m just trying not to think about all the dead people around us. Can we deal with this and leave? Now?”

Donkey nodded, then pointed at the other two men. “You two. Get this freak underground.” The two men hesitated at the task. Donkey assured them. “He gives you trouble you give him a hole in the head.”

The two men nodded, grabbed the ice man by the legs and crammed him down the manhole, one below and one above hoping not to lose their grip and break the ice man’s neck. Donkey looked over the scene again. Frozen screams. Frostbitten bodies. No sign of discrimination. Mindless slaughter. Donkey’s mind began to slip somewhere else before something hit his helmet.

Ducking instinctively. Jerking around. Weapon raising, he found Snaptrap readying another snowball. “Come on. It’s snow. You should be glad I’m not down on the ground leaving angels.”

Irritation flashed within Donkey, but he could see through the guise. Snaptrap wasn’t dealing with this any better than himself, just processing it the only way he knew how. Beginning to walk away from the scene Snaptrap toddled up behind. “You know, if the threat is eliminated, that technically counts as a successful job.”

Donkey paused contemplating what that meant for them. “Noc burger?”

Snaptrap clapped, his helmet bobbing to his own beat, barely containing his grin. “Noc Noc city burg~ Noc Noc city chow~ hell yes~.”
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Hidden 9 days ago 8 days ago Post by evierose
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evierose A Pear Bun

Member Seen 4 days ago

Omakase’s Pennystakes Hideout


As expected, talking with Adel has proved to be more than informative. No longer did Poppy feel like a headless chicken, having no idea how she was going to proceed with the sudden request forced upon her.

Lying back into her creaky office chair and mindlessly sipping on the rest of her spiked coffee that was beginning to turn cold, she pondered the new information she received along with the resources she had on hand.

There was a moment where she dreamed that this corrupt Newport would have incriminating evidence lying about on her desk, and Omakase could just bust in to grab them, guns a-blazing and fists a-punching. But she knew it couldn’t be that easy, given that so few even knew about this cop’s illegal involvements. She had to go about this the smart way.

Poppy stared down at the paper she hastily made her notes on. The paper warped where her pen had met with it so many times, besides where “Ragged Gavel” was written. She had stayed away from that region for so many years, hoping never to cross paths with a certain man again. Yet, here she was, considering to contact him. No matter how she went about Emily Newport and the Thorned Roses, she had to warn him about Newport, who had presumably become his new big boss. How was he supposed to survive under a corrupt authority if he couldn’t even land in anyone’s favour when the jurisdiction remained neutral?

The question was what should she tell him and how would she even approach him? She knew how stubborn John was. Any ounce of amicability between them had dissolved the moment she hurt their mother. He wouldn’t forgive her for that no matter how much time had passed, much less when she had become a crime boss – the very kind his father had vowed to eradicate. It would have to be an anonymous tip for him to give it any amount of consideration. She also needed to make sure he was the only person made wary, lest Newport had watchful eyes in her new jurisdiction and such information would surely bring about suspicions.

That left only one option.



Later

On the street somewhere in Ragged Gavel

Mentions: Emily (@lanastorm) Interactions: NA

John LeRoux was patrolling the streets as usual. He might have been a detective in name only, never getting any real assignments, but he made the most of his position. While he envied those who had entered the precinct the same time he did, now working big cases or promoted to other divisions, he found a sense of duty in his patrol duties, where he could proactively offer a hand to those in need.

Ragged Gavel was a poor district, which saw substantially more minor trouble and petty crimes. The mere presence of a policeman was able to deter potential criminals. He really felt like he was making a difference even if no one else seemed to agree, telling him to just let the small stuff slide, that what he was doing was futile.

He stopped by a hole-in-the-wall convenience store. It was where he always grabbed a pack of cigs. It was bad for his body but he was allowed one vice to mellow out the ever-lingering hint of defeat.

A young man wearing a mechanics jacket was already there, chatting with the shop shopkeeper about something in the news. John thought he heard a bomb being mentioned? It must be some mafia factions going at it again. He couldn’t understand why there was so much lawlessness in this city.

Sensing John’s presence, the young man quickly wrapped up the conversation, “Seems like you have another customer to tend to, I’ll leave you to it. Nice talk.” With that, the young man brushed passed John and strolled down the street.

“Nice fellow, that one.” The shopkeeper said to John. They had become somewhat of friends over the years. “The usual?” The shopkeeper handed him a pack before he even finished his sentence. John could only smile and offer him the exact change he already had in his hands. They exchanged a few more lines of pleasantries and sighs of worry before John headed on his way again.

A few more streets down, John found a corner to enjoy a puff in solitude. He reached into his pocket for a lighter, when his hand was met with something else – a piece of paper. Thinking it was a receipt he had forgotten about, he pulled it out. Alas, it was a note.

Beware of Emily Newport and her people


The note had been typed and printed on common paper, giving no indication of its author. John recalled the young man he had met earlier at the newsstand. He was indeed odd. For one, he had obviously been chatting with the shopkeeper for some time even though he should be on his way to a job. Second, his clothing suggested a mechanics or repairman profession, but he didn’t carry any tools nor seemed to have a car parked nearby.

He glanced back at the note. Someone had obviously wanted to pass him this message discreetly. He recognized the name. She was one of the rising top brasses and was made a role model for the big moves she had been making recently. As far as he knew, she was the image of justice and someone he revered. The author of this note apparently believed otherwise.

He didn’t believe the note entirely. There was a high possibility that the note had come from a criminal organization that wasn’t happy with Newport. But that begged the question, why would they inform him specifically? However, he also didn’t completely discredit the note.

Taking a last drag of his cigarette, he lit the note on fire with the remaining embers.

It was time for him to undertake the biggest, and potentially the most dangerous, investigation yet.



Gold Rim


Just a district over, the young man who had brushed past John at the newsstand, better known as the Handy Man, was now setting up a myriad of surveillance devices with his team.

Omakase infiltrates Gold Rim




Ivory Tower
somewhere close to the Thorned Rose safehouse

Mentions: NA Interactions: Thorned Roses (@estylwen)

“Are you ready?” In the back of a van, a man asked the girl who was playing with the rat in her hand.

“I have more faith in Teddy’s body than in your driving, Uncle Pat.” The girl jabbed at the man without lifting an eye from her rat, Teddy.

The last person in the van barely held back a chortle. “Uncle Pat” shot a physician a darted look.

Perhaps trying to alleviate the man’s embarrassment, the physician asked him why they had to thoroughly investigate this hideout before arranging a meeting with the Iron Roses and hopefully setting them loose on the Thorned Roses who clearly violated their territory.

“We’re making sure that Noah isn’t being held here.” Everyone agreed that it would be quite unwise to hold a hostage on foreign territory. “Plus, Pops didn’t want to approach the Iron Roses easily after we caught wind that the suspected Blue Blood spies were released without much fuss.”

Paying no mind to the other two, the girl, Talia King, gave a kiss to her pet rat, and activated her gyft. Controlling Teddy’s body, she left the van and approached the unassuming residence.
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Hidden 6 days ago 6 days ago Post by Estylwen
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Estylwen The Villainess

Member Seen 36 min ago




Beckham’s Pawn Shop, Highpoint


Mentions: NA Interactions: NA




Matteo walked casually into the well-kept pawn shop, eyes gracing over the glass shelves filled with all manner of beyond-the-Wall trinkets and baubles. Before his eyes fell on the shop owner, face pressed into the glass counter before him, and two of Matteo's thugs pinning his arms.

Matteo hummed, his loafers clicking against the polished floor as he walked up to the counter and casually leaned against it. He shot the shop owner a side-long glance.

”Been looking for you, old man. Who'da thought the boss of the Withering Stares would be playing as a fence this whole time?”

The shop owner growled from where he was pinned. ”The hell do you want?”

Matteo stared for a moment, before he twisted around and stooped, hovering over the hunched shop owner.

”I'll make it as plain as possible. You take your men and leave, and I won't kill anyone on the way out. Capiche?”

The shop owner thrashed a bit ashe was restrained, causing a chorus of curses from Matteo's men to snarl out, tightening their girl on the shop owner.

”You really think I'm gonna just walk away from everything my family has built? It's taken generations-” The shop owner said, before he was interrupted.

Matteo sighed, raising a hand. ”Yeah, yeah, your family's blood, sweat and tears, blah, blah, blah.”

Wisps formed in the air above Matteo's hand, and a shiny, sharp knife fell into his grip. Matteo twirled the knife a bit, before nodding to his men. To the shop owner's surprise, the men wrestled with him to get a single hand splayed out on the glass counter. He struggled against them, but it was futile.

Matteo grinned, eyeing the ship owner's hand like a piece of meat. ”Let's try this again, hm?”

The shop owner whimpered, trying to pull his hand back in vain as Matteo's knife danced over top his fingers. Matteo soaked in every heightened fear the man was oozing out.

”You're gonna take your men and leave, or…” Matteo rested the blade of the knife on top of the shop owner's pinky, applying the slightest pressure. The shop owner stopped breathing, sweating.

Matteo continued. ”...Or, I'm gonna take your digits as presents for my pets, starting with your pinky.”

Matteo applied a little pressure. ”...So?”

The shop owner was a sweaty mess, ”I-I… I can't j-just w-walk awa-”

Matteo didn't say a word. He only moved his blade in a horizontal manner, cutting down to the bone. The shop owner shrieked.

”Okay! Okay, please! Don't hurt me, we'll leave. I swear, we'll leave!” The shop owner said, broken.

Matteo smirked, pulling his blade up. He jerked his chin at his men, and they threw the man, clutching his bleeding pinky, into the wall. After smashing the glass shelves and shoving priceless trinkets to shatter to the ground, Matteo and his men hovered at the door.

”You got an hour, Withering Stares man.”

And they left, onward to move their men into the district proper. Highpoint was now theirs.


Vincent: W +6 P +16


The Thorned Roses Informant and the Red Rose Syndicate Spy


The Cathedral, White Pine


Mentions: NA Interactions: RRS Spy (@Qia)




It was a short meeting. These kinds of Interactions usually were.

They sat at the back of an evening gathering, pretending to listen to the sermon while speaking in hushed tones to one another. The informant was sweating bullets, looking over his shoulder almost every thirty seconds. Not even the calm of the cathedral could soothe him.

The informant's gaze glanced at the RRS spy before looking forward at the priest again.

”I'm really busting my balls for ya, ya know? I'm not going any lower. $200,000 (20 Wealth) and you'll get the address where they're keeping Mathieu Delacroix.”

He slipped a hand in his jacket pocket, before pressing a card in the spy's hand.

”Listen, you get the funds, you call that number. Then we'll talk.”

And, with one last glance around, the informant hastily stood, and excused himself from the remainder of the sermon, disappearing down Nocturnia's streets.


Bella: W +2 P +6




Gold Rim, Then A Warehouse in North Battleford


In collaboration with @LanaStorm
Mentions: NA Interactions: Emily (@LanaStorm)





The Battleford 20 were crippled and weak from the sweep the Blue Bloods had done on them. But they wouldn't be silenced. No, not yet. And not like this.

The boss had a plan, after all.

In the evening, a courier would arrive at the PD station in Gold Rim. ”Letter for the detective. Her eyes only.”

It was the contents of the letter that were the interesting part.

It was white paper littered in rows of cut out magazine and newspaper letters, like a classic random note. It read as follows:

We have one of your boys.

Come to the Stillwater Warehouse in North Battleford, alone. Tonight, 11:45 PM. Let's talk.


And indeed, Emily would notice that one of her boys was missing. It seemed the boss and what remained of the Battleford 20 wanted to negotiate for their freedom.

Or, perhaps it was a trap.

Regardless, Emily had the option to go, or ignore and risk one of her boys dying on her.

Who was nabbing up blue bloods!? While your average detractor might think Emily was a cold hearted bitch she had the biggest heart for her own guys, maybe too much so. It didn’t take her long to make it to the warehouse in question, she was still wearing her dark blue uniform that pistol of hers? Sat perfectly on her hip, so she made entry to find the bastard that took her man.

The guard at the warehouse door held a hand up, hand on his slung rifle. He eyed the pistol at her hip, ”Come on, lady. No guns. No radio. Hand those over and I'll let you through.”

“Mmm.. You’re lucky I don’t have to use it. Here big boy.” She slides her equipment over with a wink before entering the Lion’s Den.

A lion's den it was. The boss of the Battleford 20 stood with a cigar in his mouth, other hand on his slung Tommy gun. He was ringed by five men, who stepped back, carefully eyeing Emily as she approached. And as Emily entered the dusty, semi-lit warehouse, the door was closed behind her and two guards stood in front of it, effectively blocking her exit.

The boss sneered delightfully at her, puffing on his cigar. His voice was raspy, like he'd had one to many of those smokes. ”Clash of the 2nd Division. You've caused me a lot of trouble, you know?”

He shrugged, hefting his gun slightly. ”Here's the deal. You leave my district alone, I don't give your boy a tortured death. And we'll be keeping him company for a while to ensure you stay off our turf.

“How's that?”


She was expecting someone handsome, Sauve, a Vincent or Asterion to sweep her off her feet and tell her it would be okay before sweeping her off her feet and taking her back to that Ivory Tower of theres.

“Your gang is dead in the water, you guys could let my little boy go free and work from me earn some real coin. If you were good at being criminals you would of held on, that’s the counter.”

Twas a good counter offer at that!

The man sneered at her counter offer. ”Not a chance. You're not in a position to demand anything, actually, your boy is in our hands, remember. How about this. We will cut you in on our drug operations. $5,000 (0.5 Wealth) every pay day. But we keep your boy and you stay outta our hair.”

“How about you give yourselves up and we call it a night~?”

( roleplayerguild.com/rolls/28107 )
( roleplayerguild.com/rolls/28108 )
(Emily: 7, Battleford 20 Boss: 10)

The boss gave Emily a real funny look. ”Girl, have you ever negotiated before? Clearly you're not taking this seriously…”

He gestured with his hand, and out of a back office in the warehouse, one of the goons rolled out a dolly hand truck with a figured strapped down to it. In the light, Emily would recognize him as one of her boys, with a swollen, beaten face, desperately trying to look brave. The boss pulled out a taser from his pocket, causing it to crackle with electricity for a second before looking at Emily menacingly.

”Let's try this again. Get your men off our turf. And we promise we won't kill your boy. Or I'm going to have some fun with your boy, and you'll be forced to watch.”

(rolled a 1 lol roleplayerguild.com/rolls/28109)

“Pretty please?” She smiled, tilting her head a little. Negotiating sucked, especially when it was with some slob. She wanted to talk to some real men, or women. Emily didn’t discriminate, but she was prejudicial when things didn’t go her way. The low hum of a helicopter was heard outside the warehouse as flood lights from nearby and the chopper’s very own shined in, it was the NPD!


Emily -1 P


Before anything could be said or done the warehouse was sprayed with 5mm from a minigun, Emily roughly dived as smoke grenades busted through, painting the room with white over the visceral carnage that ensued.

”WHAT THE HE-”

The bullets fired true. In a matter of seconds, all of the Battleford 20 were shot, lying in their own blood on the warehouse floor without as much as a peep. Only one remained - the boss, huddled behind the dolly and body of the captured Blue Blood. His gun was pressed against the Blue Blood's head, squinting through the smoke.

Shame it was impossible to see…

The smoke cleared, steel and chrome stuck out from the emerging clouds. Emily stood still aiming in between the eyes of the boss, a swift trigger pull sent lead out flying at breakneck speeds to his cranium

Negotiations were over.

And, as the scene was cleaned up, Emily and her Blue Bloods found a backroom in the warehouse, filled with crates. Popping open one of the crates revealed intriguing devices. One crate held Gyft EMPs. The other held Gyft Enhancer devices, while another held Gyft Negator devices. And, a neatly typed shipping address, where apparently the Battleford 20 were paid to keep ahold of these strange devices for an ‘Ig Notus’. And, curiously, the devices were not powered by electricity. Their power source was… Unknown. A simple, pink gem…


Emily: W -7 P -14, W +7.5 P +14 | Bonus: 10 Gyft EMPs, 10 Gyft Enhancers, 10 Gyft Negators




The Blue Feather Reverers


Jeweled Bank, and Then Harriet's Orphanage in Hamlet


Mentions: NA Interactions: Harriet (@SporkoBug)




There was only silence as the line disconnected, before Detective Kingsley put down his phone. His narrowed eyes and stern face did little to shed light on how he actually felt - save for the quirk at his lips.

This would be fun. He did always enjoy prey that ran, or fought with their little claws. Miss Talon may have felt secure all the over at the edge of Nocturnia, but she would soon realize none were beyond his grasp. And he would have justice.

The detective stared once more at the Winged Blade's case file, before he picked it up and stepped out of his office. He raised the file up so the officers at their desks in the open-concept floor could see.

”Boys, I need a couple volunteers to help me with a case from the Commissioner. Anyone feeling antsy to go undercover in Hamlet and shake a few trees, step in my office.”

Of course, more than one officer stood up. If there was one thing Kingsley was proud of, it was that his men were dedicated and willing to put in the time to get the job done, especially if this was from higher up.

Your days roaming free are numbered, Miss Talon.

Jeweled Bank sends spies into Hamlet


***

The boys sipping their drinks gratefully couldn't help the fear that passed over their eyes as Harriet grew more angry over the phone.

There was a long silence in the room before one boy spoke up. ”This is what we were afraid off… Wll, if you'll pay us, then we can put even more time into this for you.”

He smiled at the teenagers around him, before giving Harriet a nod. ”Thank you, we will work very hard for you, Miss Talon.”


Harriet: W +1.5 P +5 | Bonus: P +5
Webb: W +0.5




Glade's Apartment, White Pines


Perhaps he had just arrived. Or perhaps he had been there all along. Regardless, when Glade turned around with his bread, he saw a well-dressed man with a midnight black face, sitting at his kitchen table.

He seemed to be smiling, but it was impossible to tell. ”Don't be alarmed, you left the door unlocked.”

He gestured a gloved hand to the table, where two cups of black coffee and a box of muffins were laid out. Glade would notice the cups were his.

”I took the liberty of using your instant coffee. And-” He lifted up a bottle of Glade's pink pills. ”Risperidone? You don't strike me as a psychotic, though. At least, not at the moment.”

He shrugged, before gesturing to the seat across from him. ”I have a job for you. Why don't you join me for breakfast…?”


Ezra: W +6 P +10




Burberry, then Oliver Fields


In collaboration with @Herald
Mentions: NA Interactions: Leon (@Herald), Vincent (@Estylwen)





True to his word, Leon had done everything possible to keep Vincenzo at the station. His cruisers had taken city streets only, stopping for every red light and never once activating their lights and sirens. Once at the station he put Vincenzo in one of the nicer ‘briefing’ rooms, saving him from the confusion of being placed in their interrogation cells in the back. When the inevitable call for a lawyer came, Leon just smiled and then insisted on personally finding him a phone to make the call, which of course were under maintenance by the armory officers and took him a long amount of time to retrieve. He asked Vincenzo only the most mundane of questions, offering him coffee, bagels, water and changing the subject any time it drifted to why he was there.

Unfortunately, it turned out Leon didn’t need to hold him for long. The call came from the commissioner, reporting the empty basement that had been cleared out hours before the raid. He nearly broke the phone in anger, and had to take several deep breaths to stop himself from just walking into the room and slamming Vincenzo into the table. How had they known? The commissioner and Leon didn’t even know that soon.

Leon considered the mess his fault, despite his part of the op going nearly flawlessly. He had picked the target and suggested the operation. Now he had no choice but to let Vincenzo walk out of here with the apologies of Nocturnia PD for the inconvenience.

This wasn’t over. Leon may have missed the first shot, but he would see to it that the next one struck true. Even if he had to handle the matter personally this time.

He walked back into the room where Vincenzo was sitting, the fake smile back on his face, “Mr. Accardo! I’m pleased to let you know it seems we won’t need to take up any more of your time after all. Without delving too much into an ongoing investigation, we had received some information that indicated you were some kind of criminal boss with designs on harming the city,” Leon said evenly, “fortunately our investigators have determined that the information was invalid given what we already know of your whereabouts. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience and would be happy to offer you a ride back if you like? Otherwise, you’re free to go. It would seem I have to go about my hunt in a slightly different method.”

Vincent smirked from his seat, arm draped on the back of the chair. ”Your hunt, mm?”

He adjusted his suit coat, moving to his feet. ”Well, let me know in a hundred years how that goes for you. I'll see myself out.”




Watching Vincenzo walk only built Leon’s frustration, and the officers he had taken with him to pick up the Boss knew better than to try and assuage his temper.

“Next time,” he promised himself.

Leon’s radio crackled.

“Officers Herrerra and Isylic, reporting shots fired! Suspects are fleeing into Oliver Fields!”

Indeed, some thugs in cheap suits had fled into Oliver Fields. What the officers didn't know what that they had a safehouse filled with men, drugs, and guns. Lots of guns.

The cops would have been made aware that the cheap suits had kidnapped a random girl off the street. A hostage. Make the cops think twice about simply storming them.

So, with a screech of tires, the cheap suits and their little doll drove into the parkade of a rundown apartment building. They dragged their hostage to the tenth floor, locked the suite door, and lowered the blinds. The two-bedroom suite had at least ten other men, interrupted from counting money and measuring drugs.

”Are you fucking nuts, bringing the cops here?!” one yelled to the other.

The man still holding his hostage simply raised a Tommy gun in his other hand. ”Shut up and get to work - we negotiate free passage! And if they try anything, we kill the girl!”

So the men took positions at the edges of the windows and doors, holding their Tommy guns in wait. The girl was bound and forced to kneel in front of the only window without a blind, and she appeared scared out of her mind.

Surely, the cops would send a negotiator, yes?

Leon stepped out of his cruiser, his eyes already scanning the building that had half a dozen SWAT team members pointing their weapons at the entrances and exits, with another two snipers covering the windows and watching for any signs of activity outside of the obvious hostage.

“Shit,” he muttered, reaching for his radio and switching the channel to a more private one he had set aside, “bring in the Nemean gear.”

Two clicks was the only response he received, but he had the channel set up for a reason. He switched back to the regular frequency.

“Adam 9 10-8,” he called out, advising his team he was on site and taking over the operation, “confirm power control and get me some means of talking to these assholes.”

“Sam 17 at the box, on your go Adam 9,” one of his officers responded, confirming they could turn the power on or off to the entire building at his command.

“Adam 9, Oscar 2, suspects are on the 10th floor, confirmed six targets, unknown total.”

“Adam 9 copies all,” Leon said, cursing loudly once his mic was off. With the idiots on the 10th floor they couldn’t even get them a phone to talk to and calling any local landlines in the building had little chance of answer.

“K-9 units, confirm sweep?,” Leon asked over the radio again, confirming his K-9 teams were ensuring any underground entrances were covered.

“Affirm Adam 9, ready to pop.”

“Hold K-9, hostage on site. Talk first, pop if necessary. All units confirm,” Leon said, and received a chorus of replies indicating everyone understood.

“Adam 9, Lincoln 3, I have a… delivery for you?”

Moments later, Leon was standing at the back of a black delivery style van with Nocturnia City plates and blacked out windows. Inside the van, a young woman turned herself in the driver seat to face the open back doors, kicking a huge black case towards Leon.

“Appreciated, Ms. Smoak,” Leon said, then activated his radio, “someone get a big sign up in the air, let them know I’m sending in a negotiator. They can meet him at the front door in ten minutes.”

The sign was read. ”Damn, a disgrace to all digital construction signs.” One of the suits commented, peeking at the edge of the window before pulling the shade back and backing away.

”Quit your complaining. Remember, we want free passage. Ask for some dough too, so we can drop that later on in the talk.” The other suit said in a clipped tone.

In exactly nine minutes and forty-five seconds, two suits, Tommy guns resting in their hands, appeared at the glass double doors. They shoved a small, heavy nightstand into the inner door, holding it open. And a carton of milk into the outer door, holding that one open too.

One suit called out, ”Shoot us and the hostage dies! Where's that negotiator?”

Leon walked out from the line of police officers, hands held up high and his holsters empty. Over his police uniform he wore what looked like overlapping pieces of kevlar with more straps that hung empty and loose off of the armor which looked like they could have been used to hold additional weapons or pieces of equipment. It was labeled with Nocturnia PD symbols, but looked far bulkier than the rest of the Officer’s armor.

Leon stopped just out of earshot of the door, grabbing his radio slowly and holding it out so it could be seen. “Sam 17, Adam 9, flip the switch in 15. Oscar 2, put four rounds into the window directly below the hostage when the lights are off,” Leon said, then made a show of putting his radio on the ground and approaching the suits with his hands still held out.

“I’m Captain Leon MacAoidh, Nocturnia Police. Let’s see if we can cut a deal, gentlemen,” Leon said, waiting for them to wave him forward. A search of his body would reveal no weapons, just the stuffy looking armor.

They two suits waved him forward, allowing him to enter the front of the building. They gave him a quick pat-down and, once satisfied, one looked at him with a crass look.

”You going to war, captain?” He was a slim fellow, clearly didn't eat enough protein.

The suit beside him, with dark hair and a stern face, shot his companion a look. ”I'll send your ass to war if you don't shut up and focus, Gwent.”

Slim Gwent stiffened a bit, but knew better than to run his mouth. So that left the stern-looking one to adjust his grip on his Tommy gun, ”We don't want no fun and games, Captain. You work with us, the hostage stays safe. But if we e'en get a hint ‘o foul play, the hostage gets a bullet.”

His eyes narrowed. ”We want $50,000 and free passage outta here. We will drop the kidnappee off in a public area when you hold up your end.”

“Not unreasonable, but I’ll have to cut into the Officer’s pension for fifty grand,” Leon said, keeping his voice even, “the public dropoff won’t work though, you want the money and safe passage, we get the girl as soon as you are in the clear. Way I see it, we got two options gentlemen.”

“Option A: You take me to the girl and drop us both off on your way out. You know I’m unarmed and I left my helmet back at the van so I’m sure if I caused any trouble I’d catch one of those .45’s against the dome, right?,” Leon said.

“Option B: You take me to the girl and hand me a phone. Once I have proof of life, I’ll pull my guys back and you can walk right out of here for all I give a shit. Either way, money gets wired into an account of your choosing,” Leon continued.

“So you tell me how this is going to play out,” Leon said, eyeing them both carefully.

Gwent was nodding along, before eying his companion. ”They're good deals, Danny.”

It almost looked as if a vein was gonna burst out of Danny's forehead. ”Gwent, I swear to God, you keep talking and I'll send you back upstairs. Shut. Up.”

Danny then turned his coal eyes on Leon. ”You really think this is my first rodeo show, mm? You aren't getting close to her. The best you're gonna get for your ‘proof of life' is her tear-stained face from the tenth story window.”

He sighed, raising up a finger. ”New deal, no cash. Just the free passage out. You clear your men from the back entrance. When we've all hopped in our vehicle, we'll let her go. And every ten minutes you keep me waiting, we're chopping off one of her fingers.

“Deal?”


Leon considered the options, reading the man’s body language. He could make that work. There would be risk to the hostage, but less so than if he stormed the building or pushed to see the girl.

“Your boss gonna be good with you giving up the money? I mean, you’ve already burned this place as a safe spot for your crew,” Leon said off handedly, prodding Danny in an attempt to get a feel for if he was really the boss of this outfit, “you know what, never mind, sounds like a deal. Leave her alive and whole at the back door, we’ll collect her in… ten minutes enough time for you guys to head out?”

Danny gave a cold, stacattic laugh. ”Fishing for info, I like that.

“Clear the back so we can safely get to our vehicles, we will leave her at the back door before we leave.

“We'll be at the back in five minutes. It'd better be cleared.”


And with that, Danny jerked his chin at Gwent, and they both slowly backed up, still facing Leon cautiously, before they moved to the stairs and up to the tenth floor.

True to Danny's word, money and drugs were hurriedly stuffed in four duffle bags, carried by four men in the center of the group. Danny had an arm around his hostage girl, Tommy gun pointed at her, at the front of the group. He was using her as a shield, eyeing the back parking lot to see if the cops had, indeed, backed off. And, men at the back of the group had their heads on a swivel, eyes over their shoulder, keeping an eye on the hall behind them.

Would the captain keep his word?

Once the two criminals had backed up a reasonable distance, Leon simply turned on his heel and walked back calmly over to his radio. Five minutes wasn’t much time, but he had the advantage of already controlling the outside. He picked up the radio and relayed his orders to the teams, pulling back the more obvious cruisers and SWAT from the rear of the building and moving his snipers into a line of sight on the alley.

“New plan gentlemen. Oscar teams, stay low and get line of sight on the back of the building, all other units pull back, full lights. Get EMS on the way as a precaution. Priority is the hostage. Oscar teams, when you have sight on the hostage, call for Sam 17 to kill the power to the building,” Leon said, waiting for the confirmations to come in.

He rolled his neck around, loosening up his body. This was going to hurt. It always did. He waved over a SWAT team member, reaching over and taking two grenades from his equipment and clipping them to his armor.

As his cruisers pulled back, lights blaring like an early christmas he knew it would draw any spotter’s attention away from the base of the building. He used the cover to slip inside, moving into a side room and closing his eyes, tapping into his gyft.

The pain was significant, but temporary as his body grew in size and musculature. The armor he had been wearing stretched, plates sliding into new places and straps straining to contain his new bulk as the real purpose of the armor was revealed. His limbs elongated, and savage claws broke through the tips of his fingers. His hair grew out rapidly and descended down to surround his neck. Every shadow in the room sharpened, and he could pick up the scents of dozens of people and their activities as they had gone about their daily lives hours ago.

He could hear them moving, boots stomping along the stairs, still two or three floors up from him. He could hear the little girl’s muffled crying, an inward flinch of rage rising and being suppressed. Part of him was going to enjoy hurting these men, a very un-coplike thought. His senses tracked the group as they moved, his feline form moving with supernatural speed and stealth.

They were halfway out of the building when the power shut off, dragging their attention towards the sudden change. Leon moved fast, blurring out of the darkness and using his oversized bulk and musculature to slam through the crew. He lashed out with a massive clawed hand, aiming to sweep the gun away from the hostage and then strike the man in the chest hard enough to crumple him against the nearest hard object. He then threw himself over the hostage, covering her smaller frame with his armor as his snipers opened fire.

Danny cried out hoarsely in the darkness, crumpled against the wall after Leon's savage form had attacked him. Bullets shattered the back entrance way, mowing down Danny's remaining men.

Just like that… It was over.

Danny stared angrily, pushing up off the wall. No. He might have had a smashed ribcage, but he wasn't going out like this.

He slung a duffel bag over his shoulder, grabbed a new gun, and hoisted one of his dead men over his chest, carefully walking backward from Leon, the hostage, and the back entrance. Bullets tore through the dead man's body, but saved Danny, and he was able to retreat to the stairwell. He dropped the body and took the stairs up as quickly as he could, hand pressed against his shattered ribs.

He pulled out a smeared phone from his pocket, pressing it to his ear. ”Plan B, Plan B now!”

And as he reached the roof access, a black helicopter prepared to land on the helipad…

Leon was sure the girl was terrified, but the darkness and his armor blocked her from seeing the worst of the carnage. When the bullets stopped flying, he could hear one man retreating back up the stairs.

“Easy little one,” he rumbled, his voice several degrees lower than his already deep tone, it sounded inhuman but there was little he could do to offer her further comfort, “keep your eyes closed until the police arrive. They’ll be here in a moment and they’ll take you to a doctor, then back home again.”

“Remember, eyes closed, and you tell the officers Captain Leon says you get to raid the soda and candy stashes. Can you do all that for me?,” he said, moving away from her and doing his best to keep his form shrouded in darkness. Even if he told her to keep her eyes closed, children were notorious for disobedience anyways. He just didn’t want her to see the blood.

The small girl nodded furiously, her eyes squeezed shut. She huddled herself on the floor, awaiting rescue. But before Leon got too far, he heard a little whisper, ”Th-thank you…”

Leon nodded, but it was the only response he gave. Already he could hear one of the SWAT teams moving back in to secure the scene. He moved to the nearest fallen bodies, checking to make sure they were incapacitated and posed no threat to the child, then began to dash after the last man. His elongated limbs ate up the distance he had fallen behind, but it would still be closer than he liked if he could beat his target to his destination.

As Leon would approach the roof access, he would see Danny stumbling his way towards the helicopter as it touched down, wind from the blades cutting the air.

Danny spared a glance back, eyes widening, and he tried to shuffle faster, nearly losing his footing.

It would be close.

Danny’s fingers touched the helicopter, starting to curl around the edge of the opening to haul himself to safety. Leon’s claws ripped him away and threw him to the ground. Leon rounded on the helicopter, shouting through the noise. “Nocturnia fucking Police. Get off this rooftop or you’re next.” He had no idea if the pilot understood him or not, but it didn’t matter to Leon.

He walked calmly over to Danny’s prone frame, grabbing the front of the man’s shirt and lifting him into the air, the blades of the helicopter passing inches away.

“You’re under arrest. Comply and you’ll live to confess the crimes and serve your sentence. Harm anyone else and I’ll have to decide whether you look better with a haircut or falling ten stories to the pavement,” he rumbled, twisting his fingers in the man’s garment and continuing to hold him effortlessly off the ground.

Danny struggled weakly in the air, staring down at Leon with fear, panic, and pain. ”I yield, I yield! Take me in, please- D-don't hurt me-”

The Tommy gun and the duffle bag fell from his aching fingers, and he hung there limply. The chopper, without much hesitation, decided the Nocturnia Police certainly could convince them to leave. And, soon enough, the chopper was out of sight.

Leon dragged the man over to the access door, away from the weapon and the duffle bag. He stared at the man for several seconds, but it seemed he was really defeated. He reached up and activated his radio again.

“All teams, Adam 9. Targets secured. One on the roof with trauma to the torso, have EMS escorted up here and get the power back on. Confirm hostage secure?,” he rumbled.

“Victor 21 confirms. She’s with EMS right now. Social worker is en route to get identity information.”

“Adam 9 copies,” Leon replied, then waited patiently for his officers to arrive. Once they did, he would find a quiet place to let his gyft fade once more.


Leon: W -5 P -10, W +4.5 P +10


Thorned Roses Safehouse


Ivory Tower, Thorned Rose safehouse


Mentions: Talia (@evierose) Interactions: NA




As the controlled rat entered the premises, the scent of cooking stew on the stove overpowered most of their senses. Entering through the open windows in the kitchen, Talia would notice the bubbling pot on the stove. She could also hear voices from the other room.

As she snuck into the living room, she saw Thorned Roses men all gathered around at the table, relaxing with their drinks and smokes. They were knee-deep in another round of poker, poking fun over who had a terrible bluff.

One got up and stalked right past Talia, not noticing her, before moving to check on the stew.

”Hey, fellas! Stew's ready!”

Cards were slapped on the table as the men joked with one another, slowly making their way to the kitchen. As the last footstep left the living room, Talia would have the opportunity to check the rest of the house. The upstairs rooms were all unlocked and empty. And the basement had a layer of dust.

Noah… Noah wasn’t here.


Pops: W +1.5 P +5














Mafia Headquarters, 93rd Street


Mentions: Asterion (@The Savant) Interactions: NA




It was pre-dawn. Fog enclosed the streets, and lamps held a suffused, choked glow. There was a tap-tap of wingtip footsteps down the slicked sidewalk, before a sudden rap-rap at a door.

A thug opened the door, bleary-eyed, expecting it to be the postman.

It wasn't the postman.

The thug's eyes widened, as if he was staring into the face of the devil, and staggered back, leaving the door to creak wide open. The man, maroon hair swept, stirred dark trench coat and a shadow over his face, took a leisurely step inside.

”Wh-who are you? S-stay back!” Said the thug, alerting the other in the foyer. They both, in unison, drew their pistols, pointing them at the man. The man, in response, looked from one, to the other, watching their change in demeanor.

Both thugs seemed gripped in their emotions, pistols lower, hands shaking, eyes dancing behind their eyes. One seemed to have a smile crossing over his lips, but was looking to the maroon-haired man, almost looking for permission.

Flint smirked, almost looking kindly to the thug. ”You don't need to ask for my permission.”

The thug beamed, and spun his pistol on the other thug beside him. The crack of gunfire, and the other thug crumpled to the ground, blood pooling on the floor.

This alerted the rest of the establishment, but it was already far too late for that. Flint walked deeper into the establishment, passing by offices like a shadow of death, his presence marked by pistols firing at other thugs or at themselves. He ascended the steps, followed closing by the thug that had opened the door for him. Flint moved through the hallways, until he moved into a room where two thugs held down the boss. The boss’ eyes were wide, clearly missing the effect all his men were under. And, as he struggled, Flint turned to the thug beside him.

”You don't have to hold back for me.” He said.

And the thug, now empowered, raised his pistol, and shot his boss with little remorse. Flint smiled, before he turned and began to head out from the room. The three thugs behind him turned their pistols on each other, and, in unison, shot each other.

The floors were slicked in blood. The establishment was as silent as the grave. Flint moved through it, casual-like, opening the back door. Cleaners dressed in protective suits entered from the back door, immediately setting about removing guns, bullets, and bodies. Blood stains were scrubbed clean.

By the time Asterion went to claim the headquarters of this place, it would be ready for business.

Satisfied, Flint didn't say another word, simply took a cigarette from its pack and bit down on it, lighting it, and walked down the misty streets, disappearing into the fog.






Kairo Skyscraper, Nickel


In collaboration with @The Savant
Mentions: NA Interactions: Asterion (@The Savant)





Despite her circumstances, Hailey slept rather peacefully. It helped when the kitty of her prison room enjoyed cuddles as much as she. She woke early, around eight in the morning. She had a quick shower and looked through the closet again. It was as if Asterion had anticipated that she would be speaking to the public: within the closet was a blouse and a pencil skirt. Hailey pulled it out immediately and changed into it, looking at herself in the mirror.

It would do. The pale whites and greys gave a somber tone, which fell in line to what she would be, well, forced to do today.

Her stomach twisting a little, Hailey sat at the edge of her bed, waiting.

The apology was not going to be held until around ten in the morning and Asterion had been awake for hours. Refreshing after his usual routine of the morning and his shifty sleep from the night before. At least nothing too detrimental had happened last night with Flint Weathersteel and his guest, Vale. His mind wandered to the woman and it was because he knew he could never jump inside of her. People like that caused his curiosity to bloom into a slight obsessive thought process.

While going to Hailey’s room, he knocked on the door, and pressed the button, “Are you awake princess? And would you like to join me for breakfast before we get done with the rest of the day?” he asked in a pleasant voice.

Hailey pursed her lips. Asterion was being nice, despite setting her up for public humiliation later. She sighed, standing from her bed and presented herself at the wall-door.

”Yes… That sounds nice, I think. I'm ready.”

Asterion knew that the mood was ruined from everything that happened yesterday — the failed escape, him stabbing Reid, showing her what her actions did to his people, and then the small meeting with her older brother. Everything was tense in a sense to put it nicely. The man pressed the door in and the sound of it decompressing before sliding into the wall and disappearing with a quick action.

Come with me,” he gestured while waiting until she was at least beside him before he began to walk. “We are eating somewhere else today since the dining room is under construction,” he mentioned while leading her down the hall.

Hailey winced at that. ”Ah, right…”

So she fell in step beside him, smoothing out the fabric of her skirt with only slightly clammy hands. The skyscraper was massive. She was certain he had at least ten, maybe twenty other halls that he used as dining rooms. So, desperately trying to forget that she was, indeed, being escorted, instead of this being an innocent walk, Hailey instead focused on where they were going.

Alas, she didn't have much to say in terms of conversation. Her stomach was in knots for later, after all.

There was something odd about this walk, he was quiet, and he didn’t say much to Hailey. She seemed to have nothing to talk about nor did he. What was there to speak of at this point? The girl might have noticed that they went down a few stairs before going to a hall with no window at the end of it. Turning right and entering an elevator. This brought them up a handful or two of floors before they stepped up. Walked across the hallway and entered another stairwell where they went up two flights before coming to a wall.

Asterion reached out placing his hand on a particular placement on the wall and the lights went out. A feminine voice of artificial intelligence echoed out, Welcome home Asterion, the voice stated before the wall decompressed, air came out, and gentle accent lights came on to expose an elevator.

He brought Hailey into the elevator before pressing a black button on the side. Not one of the white buttons with a number or letter on it. The black button almost looked false in a sense but the doors closed and they went up. The door opened to a mood lit living room or sitting area and he stepped into the area and began to move towards the right of the opening that led into a bigger part of the area. It seemed to be a penthouse on the top of the skyscraper by the way the windows were designed. Asterion lived on the highest floor he could.

Opening two wide doors brought them to another common room and this was when the artificial voice echoed out again. How has your morning been?

My morning has been fine, Eden,” he spoke back to whatever was talking to him.

Going over the kitchen he gestured for Hailey, “You can take a seat at the table or the counter. Whatever you want,” he didn’t mind but he was just going to cook a simple breakfast for them. He had no one working today because of the plans to take over Yellow Brick.

Hailey blinked. It was beyond luxurious. The pinnacle of decadence.

Why was Asterion bringing his prisoner into his luxurious penthouse home? No matter how Hailey looked at it, she couldn't make sense of it. Honestly, she was expecting to have breakfast out of the mini-fridge and then be hauled in front of a press conference before ten.

As she sat at the counter, she watched Asterion quietly. Before her curiosity begged her to ask. ”You, uhm… This isn't typically how a prisoner is, well, handled. You are the mafia boss, and yet you are making breakfast for someone who did unspeakable things to your district… In your own penthouse, no less. Aren't you like, worried I'll blow something up?” Her tone was incredulous.

A quietness was in the air after Hailey spoke and he shrugged, “Materials can be replaced. People cannot be,” the man seemed indifferent. As if he wasn't worried about her blowing his penthouse up even if her words were a threat to do so.

Are you going to blow everything up?” he asked curiously while glancing over his shoulder with a slightly pained smile. “The worst it would do is damper my mood and that technically would not change or be too far from the usual,” he confessed.

He put a pan on the stove and put it on medium heat. The man went over to his fridge and began to grab ingredients out of it. “And you are not a prisoner. You are a guest with limitations,” he softly spoke while closing the fridge and going back over to the counter and putting the ingredients down.

Hailey felt an embarrassed heat rise to her cheeks. ”Course I'm not gonna blow it up, I'm not stupid.” She mumbled.

She cleared her throat a bit, watching Asterion prepare breakfast. ”A guest with limitations… I'll be honest, I think you invented this.”

Hands squeezing the fabric of her skirt briefly, before she tried to smile. ”Well, for what's it's worth, I appreciate it. Though, I mean, it's hard for me, I suppose.”

She tapped the horns that curled out of her black hair. ”Big Brother says these are a manifestation of all the trouble I get into. So, I mean, I would deserve being chained down in a basement.”

Her smile was wider now, her forearms leaning on the counter. ”So, thank you, I suppose.”

A glance over his shoulder before continuing to cook them breakfast. “He truly loves you,” the man could see that clearer than day and internally it pained him. He once had siblings, technically still does, but he had to do what was best for them. Separating the family at his younger age, killing their mother to make sure it happens, and everything else. His siblings didn't have memories of him anymore, well, his little sister didn't. There were times when he and his younger brother stayed in touch but that couldn't continue. No matter how much he wanted it to.

Have you ever read a religious text, princess? I think it is a good lesson even if you do not follow those beliefs because you learn two things,” he put two fingers up to emphasize it.

You learn that Lucifer was once an angel and that he could be considered the most charismatic and beautiful creature yet he is purely evil. You learn that God supposedly created all and if he created all and tries to forgive the mistakes of others even if he knew. Why can I not try to forgive the actions of others even if it may upset me or put me into a place that I do not care to be in,” he continued to let the omlette cook while he shredded some cheese.

Then he shrugged, “Except I can always forgive but I cannot forget yet I am a man that can only lose material possessions. I have nothing to live for. Nothing deep. Not like you or your brother. You two can lose each other. I do not have that,” he continued to make breakfast.

Hailey listened carefully. She wasn't expecting a talk about God, but she enjoyed it all the while. It was often that Flint, her and Daisy attended the cathedrals in White Pine.

But her gaze drew a bit concerned. ”I… I know it's tough, not having family. I don't have my parents.

“But you have your crew. They treat you like family. That's pretty good, I'd say…”


Asterion nodded at her words, “It is,” he agreed with her as he held his tongue about other things he wanted to say. Reaching into the cupboards, he grabbed two plates, and two forks. Setting them to the side as he took off the cheesy omelette and cut it in half. Giving one half to himself and the other to Hailey. Going into the fridge, he grabbed some homemade salsa and put a serving on each plate before putting it back. Then he grabbed a peach for each of them before washing those off and putting one on each plate.

The man set her plate in front of her and sat his down beside her. Before he sat down, he poured them both orange juice and put those filled glasses in front of the plates. “When I was very young, princess. I destroyed my family. I killed my mother so the only person to blame is myself for not having a family,” he confessed to her while glancing over at her before taking a drink of his orange juice.

It was for the better. If I did not do that. I would not be here today,” his tone was even as he spoke. Then he smiled a little before he started enjoying his breakfast.

Hailey stared for a moment. The more Asterion spoke, the more it made her realize the man held on to a lot of pain. Of course, it was the exact same with her brother. Great men were made of pain, it seemed.

”...You have a lot in common with Big Brother, you know…” She said softly. ”Nocturnia is a city of pain, though. Different degrees, and that pain breaks us all in different ways.”

She shook her head, pursing her lips. Her own broken-ness caused her to not care when she was using her gyft. But, a little therapy session with Asterion seemed to be clearing that up.

Hailey snorted through her nose, keeping her thoughts to herself as she took a bite of breakfast. Her eyes widened.

”I didn't think you'd be able to cook. This is… Quite delicious. Thank you.”

There was a quick thought about something before he stuffed it down. Maybe in a different life or world, he could have befriended Flint Weathersteel, but he made a deal for the man to end his life when the time was right. He wouldn't share that with Hailey. She didn't deserve to know that knowledge unless her big brother wanted her to know it.

Hearing her snort caused him to raise a brow in curiosity, he was about to ask what was so funny, but she broke her silence after taking a bite. Asterion grinned at her compliment and laughed, “I would be quite pathetic if I did not know how to cook and useless as well. Thank you for the kindness, princess,” cooking was a necessity. Being on his own for the most part since his younger teen years, he would have starved, but he learned how to cook. At least a little bit. He was no star chef but he knew his way around the kitchen. Maybe that's why Krish stayed around — that man could burn anything he touched when it came to cooking.

Now enjoy your breakfast and relax before the day truly starts,” he encouraged as he started to eat the omelette while dipping it into the salsa.

Haily nodded, feeling her insides beginning to unwind a bit more than what they were before. Yes, today wouldn't be so bad. She'd do what she needed to get done, and wait for her brother. And, maybe, she could ask Big Brother to forge some kind of alliance with Asterion.

Yes, that sounded alright.

She took another bite of her omelette, and then another. Soon, it had disappeared entirely off her plate, and she worked on the peach. It was perfectly ripe, and she delicately placed the pit on her now rather empty plate. The orange juice, the same that she had requested for her first dinner, was also polished off. It was one of her favourite drinks, after all.

In good time, she had finished her food. There was a seriousness in her eyes - she was ready for the day.

Asterion finished his breakfast and when he noticed Hailey was done as well, he grabbed both of their plates, and put the peach pits to the side on the sink before rinsing the plates and forks off. Then filling the sink up a little with soapy water to actually do dishes. “Eden, what time is it?” he called out while he was drying the dishes and setting them into the cupboards.

It is about ten minutes after nine, sir,

Thank you,” he finished putting the plates away and he looked over to Hailey. “Are you ready?” he asked while drying his hands on the towel that he dried the dishes with.

Hailey considered it. She considered backing out, running away. But it was a pipe dream, and it would be a slap to the face to Asterion.

So, she pushed down her doubts, and regarded Asterion with steely eyes.

”I'm ready.”

Thank you for cooperating and doing this,” the man stated while leading the woman back into the elevator and this time pressing the button that had G on it. It took them down to a floor that was definitely not the ground floor but it looked like a false one to a point except with no exit. A receptionist was there and she smiled and waved. Asterion gestured a hand up to simply wave back before leading Hailey down the hall. The woman was doing something and two double wide doors opened to her right and upon entering. It was like a production studio.

While they walked through the production studio, there were big lights, different chairs, and a bunch of other equipment though they didn’t stop at any of it. They walked past it all into a room that looked comfortable. It looked so fake with the setup of furniture and the colors were so relaxing of the talk-show like room.

Asterion smiled back at Hailey, “Here we are,” he gestured both hands out.

Hailey could feel her heart racing. The lights, the stage. She was really doing this. She was really going on live television and apologizing.

Her hands wrung quietly, before she bit down on her lip and clenched her hands to be still. No, no more fear. She could do this.

Fuck, she couldn't do this-

Hailey bore her gnashed teeth, smacking her cheeks to get into the zone. Then, a nod.

”Let's get this over with, I'm not scared.”

That was when another pair of footsteps could be heard coming towards the room. It sounded feminine by the weight and it sounded like they were wearing heels. Juniper came through those doors with a smile, her hair styled nicely, along with her dressed in an emerald suit jacket with a matching pencil skirt. A white frilly undershirt with a purple floppy bow tie for women. “Good morning you two,” she shyly smiled at Hailey with a little wave before walking over to Asterion.

Good morning, June, thank you for agreeing to do this. I did not want to bother Mitzie, she has a lot of work on her plate and the day off,” he confessed while putting his hands on June’s shoulders and pressing a quick and quite formal peck on her cheek.

June shook her head and with a teasing tone, “So I don’t get days off?

He rolled his eyes, “You will be reimbursed, do not worry,” his voice was more serious than joking in the sense.

She huffed out with a humorous tone, “Go sit down so you do not hurt yourself,” she waved him over to a seating area off stage. That was when the two went over there and Asterion sat down. Within seconds, he looked at June, and a bright flash could be seen. Asterion’s body limped in the chair like a lifeless husk. No energy. No soul. Nothing was in his body for the moment.

June walked over to the equipment before pressing a few buttons and grabbing a remote that she kept out of the picture, just incase, “We are on in forty-five seconds, princess,” she said with such a feminine and cheerful voice while she walked onto the stage. Her hips moved a little more with the walk unlike how her regular walk looked compared to when she came in and walked up to Asterion.

You can stand or you can sit, I have to make a little speech beforehand, so you can try your best to relax. I will queue you by gesturing to you. I will make sure not to name you either,” he added. He did not want any of his people linking Hailey to Flint or any other district.

Hailey watched as Asterion jumped into the body of the healer. It was time, wasn't it?

She used her forty-five seconds to sit on the right side seating of the stage, sitting up straight with her legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. She tried to be the picture of calm, though her insides wanted to boil over.

She tried to ignore her own fears as much as possible, instead focusing on ‘Asterion’. And, keeping her eyes open for the cue.

There was a screen higher up that June, aka, Asterion was looking at and it was counting down the time. Once the timer hit all zeros, he smiled with the woman’s face, “Good morning Nickel District, this is Asterion Kairo, and I am here to speak about the events that happened yesterday. It was a saddening time for quite a few people. We lost loved ones, community members, and damage had been done to some of the institutions, establishments, and material goods. It’s because I am considered a threat to the outer districts and the rest of Nocturnia. I know. That statement might not make sense to many of you but it is true. I can be a threat and that scares people. It scares people to a point where they meant to only cause chaos or simple issues but not what happened last night,” this was when Asterion gestured for Hailey to come stand up beside him if she wanted to. Hailey did so, smoothing out her skirt and standing beside ‘Asterion’, a look of admonishment on her face.

And people do not always mean to go through with actions that they did. We are all human and we need to understand each other and accept our flaws and arrogance with grace,” Asterion continued to speak before he gently smiled at Hailey with June’s face.

Hailey glanced at ‘Asterion’, swallowed the lump in her throat, and gazed at the camera. Her hands folded in front of her skirt, and she bowed. Her brother might have been crazy, but he had ensured she knew her manners, especially when she messed up.

Eyes averted, she spoke in a subdued voice that still carried. ”I want to apologize for my actions yesterday. I hurt a lot of people and caused terror in Nickel. My heart goes out to the families whom I harmed, and I give my most sincere condolences to them. I will endeavor to improve myself and do better, so no one has to suffer like that ever again.”

She held her pose for a few seconds more, before she slowly straightened up, eyes flickering at the camera once before averting themselves again.

Asterion smiled, “Thank you, the people of Nickel appreciate your apology,” the man stated before looking at the camera. His eyes flashing pinkish-purple, “Handfuls of my men and women are already working to fix the damage and help the families that experienced personal losses. I know we cannot replace lives but we can replace other things. Thank you for giving us our time, citizens of Nickel, and we will see each other again,” with the hidden remote, he pressed it, and the camera cut out. The equipment could be heard powering off.

Walking back up to the equipment and setting the remote down. Asterion walked back over to his body and with a flash of light jumped back into it. June seemed slightly dazed at the sudden transfer and she brought a hand up to her head, “That is a feeling I will never be able to get used to,” she confessed.

Asterion chuckled, “I am sorry but I do appreciate that you let me use your face instead of using my own,” he seemed to roll his shoulders and stretch his hands to check for control before standing up. “Thank you, June. We will talk later. Okay? I have to attend to little sister,” he stepped around the woman and she waved versus speaking her mind. She knew he was a busy man and she was busy herself — she needed to get out of this makeup and go back to working at the medical center.

The man walked over to Hailey, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Thank you for doing that, princess. That takes a lot of courage and maturity. You might not understand but that apology means a lot to the citizens of Nickel and it means a lot to me as well,” this was when he stepped back and allowed his hands to fall away from her shoulders and arms.

Haiely stared up curiously at him. The affection was the same as what her Big Brother would do. Would she end up calling Asterion ‘Big Brother' one day too?

Is there anything you want from your room or to do anything else before you go?” Asterion asked while he gestured for her to walk with him.

She fell in step behind him, surprised once again. ”Wait, you're letting me go? But you haven't heard word from Big Brother yet, have you?”

She glanced down at her clothes. She had a tattered outfit she should change back into - the clothes Asterion had lent her weren't her own after all.

”It's a wonderful room, but I wouldn't feel right taking anything…”

The man glanced over a broad shoulder and smirked crookedly, “Take whatever you want from that room. If you do not. It will only go to a donation center but I think those outfits were chosen for you and not many others could pull such styles off,” he confessed while continuing to walk. Gesturing for her to keep up as he continued to go through the maze of doors and hallways before stopping at a door. Facing Hailey as he stood there.

The main thing I wanted was an apology and I got that. My people got that. If you want nothing from your room or anything else. I will walk you to the lobby and see you off. It does not matter if I do not hear from Big Brother or not. I think we have a deal we both can mutually respect and if it cannot be… then we have no deal at all,” he shrugged at the thought. Having a deal with Flint meant he was going to die. Not having a deal meant that deal was off. Neither of them would be able to keep their words to each other if one couldn’t hold theirs.

”Ah, I see… So you're working together now?” Hailey smiled. ”That's good, that's really good.”

She shuffled a bit, stammering with her words. ”Is it… Is it possible for me to keep the kitty and this outfit…? That would… That would really help me.”

He shook his head in the negative, “Not quite,” he added. “Let me say, I think we understood each other to an extent and nothing more,” Asterion wouldn’t consider Flint Weathersteel and him as partners or even working together. He could say that they had an understanding to a point and they both wanted very similar things even if that meant Asterion’s fate to be sealed in the end.

A pursed lip smile appeared on his face as he dipped his head, “Yes, you may. If you want to know the name of the cat, it is Chamomile,” he informed her. “Let us go get here and then I can see you out,” he walked up to the door and opened it. Revealing a semi-hidden elevator. Then he glanced at Hailey, “I could keep you until your brother contacts me though I think you would be bored and I have business to do. It would not be proper for a young lady to follow me around and hear all that…nasty information,” once Hailey was into the elevator. They would go back to her room — she would have time to gather her original clothing and Asterion would get the cat into a comfortable carrying bag for small pets for Hailey.

Hailey grimaced before nodding. He was probably right.

Giving the room a once over, Hailey draped her old clothes over her arm, eyeing the carry case. ”Chamomile is very cute, I'll take good care of her.”

I know you will.

She nodded to herself, imagining all the ways she was going to spoil Chamomile at her Big Brother's estate. Then glanced back over at Asterion.

”I think that's everything.”

Asterion led Hailey out from the maze of rooms, tricks, and the hidden mysterious of the skyscraper. When her cellphone back, she called up one of her Big Brother's drivers. And, in about ten minutes, Hailey was off to enjoy her freedom.

It was only about a half hour later when Asterion received a call from Flint, letting him know that the deed in 93rd Street was done.

93rd Street was now Asterion's.


Asterion: W +3.5 P +7


NOCTURNIA NEWS - 11AM






Mentions: The Order (@ERode, Nickel (@The Savant), 93rd Street (@Estylwen), Emily (@LanaStorm), Leon (@Herald) Interactions: NA




The morning news was broadcast to all areas of Nocturnia, live from the main news station in Jeweled Bank.

A young woman sat in front of the camera, flashes of images appearing in the screen behind her.

”Good morning, Nocturnia. We have breaking news from seven districts today. And please stay tuned for a special note from our sponsor later on in the program.”

The camera shifted angles, getting closer as the news woman prepared to give her overview.

”Last Night the Bewery District was covered in snow, and living popsicles. Fair warning, some of the images may be graphic.”

Snapshot views of the district covered in snow, and frozen statues.

”Eye witnesses report seeing a person weighing an ice-type gyft. However, the suspect as disappeared, and we had heard no word from the Akula Crew that run the district.”

The news reporter shuffled her papers. ”There was an uprising in Merryland yesterday as people took to the streets to remove what is now being confirmed as a military group from the district. The leaders of this riot have remained uncomfortable, but supporters of the riot have claimed that an organization named the Order of Enlightenment are the ones to thank for that.”

The camera shifted angles again, and images of explosions in an expensive district shuffled across the screen.

”Explosions shattered the air in Nickel as a lone gyfter caused chaos in the district. They were quickly thwarted, but not before several casualties had occurred. The leader of the district, Asterion Kairo, gave an official word on the situation this morning.”

Then the camera cut to show clips of the broadcast in Nickel, showing June and Hailey. After Hailey gave her apology speech, the camera cut back to the Nocturnia news reporter.

”Our sources have confirmed the identity of the bomb-wielder, 23-year-old Hailey Vagabond, known for her connection with a mysterious organization only known as ‘M.PHAT’. It is unclear if charges will be pressed.”

The screen behind the news reporter switched to scenes of a lowly office building in 92rd Street, bullets piercing many of the windows.

”Witnesses reported multiple rounds of gunfire emanating from the main holdings of the local criminal organization. However, with lack of a police presence, there has been a lack of an investigation on this issue.”

”That brings me to the next segment in our breaking news. There was a massacre in North Battleford late last night, where Detective Newport and her team attempted to save a hostage from the local criminal syndicate, the Battleford 20. By the time the press got to the scene, all remaining members of the syndicate were shot, and a lack of negotiations was made apparent. Citizens are crying out, calling for justice for their befallen.”

”On a lighter note, Detective MacAoidh and his crew restored order in Oliver Fields, apprehending the boss of the organization and saving the little girl that the criminals had abducted.”

The news reporter shuffled her papers once more, before fixing her gaze on the camera.

”As most citizens of Nocturnia are aware, air traffic is forbidden over the Nocturnia skies. However, there are reports of an air drop in Yellow Brick. The local police force in Yellow Brick reported the drop to be designer clothes. However, reports from Merryland have confirmed that the drop, in fact, was a military-grade weapon and ammunition.”

The news reporter gave the camera a nod. ”And we'll be back after this short message.”

The camera cut away, and an ad started to roll. A jingle familiar to all Nocturnians began to play.

”Noc Noc city burg, Noc Noc city chow~☆”

A happy child holding a burger, taking a big bite, splashed across the screen. It then cut to some menu items and their prices.

”Try our classic Noc Noc Burger, the famed and reknowned! Or, go for our newest selection, Noc Noc Veggie Burger!”

The jingle played again as the ad faded to black, and the intro to the news broadcast played again. The news reporter sat in her chair, her demeanour the same well-kept and polished.

”Early this morning, Ceo Soylent Green of Nocturnia's famous Noc Noc Burger held a press conference.”

The camera cut to a dark-haired, green-eyed woman standing at a mic-riddled podium. Her gaze was calm and composed.

”There have been allegations of our company not being forthright with our ingredients. I want to put everyone at ease, here and now, that Noc Noc Burger is completely transparent with our ingredients and labels. We are proud to be the first franchise to be completely self-sufficient from the incoming aid. We will not back down, and we will not be coded by these pointless rumors.”

There was another cut, and the news reporter in her seat once again appeared on the screen. Images of missing people, both children and adults, appeared behind her.

”This morning, the Mayor of Nocturnia, Valencia Nocturnal, addressed the press in regards to the missing persons cases.”

The screen showed the mayor, a white-haired woman standing behind a podium outside Town Hall in Jeweled Bank. There were flashes of cameras as she spoke.

”I want to assure all the citizens of Nocturnia that we are utilizing every resource available to put an end to the missing persons cases. It's true, there have been an uptick in cases this month alone. But I have my best officers on the case, and am hopeful for a resolution. Meanwhile, I would advise every Nocturnian to adhere to safety guidelines. Stay indoors after dark, travel in groups.”

Then the camera cut to the news reporter one last time, and gave the camera a nod. ”That concludes our Breaking News 11 AM session. Thank you for tuning in, and stay safe, Nocturnia.”






Nocturnia Prison, Jeweled Bank


Mentions: NA Interactions: Emily (@LanaStorm)




The Commissioner sat in her office, leaned back in her seat, cellphone pressed to her ear. Her eyes occasionally flickered to the news broadcast playing on a live streaming platform on her computer.

”Miss Mayor, I would ask that you reconsider.”

A long pause, before the Commissioner sighed. ”Very well, I'll come by your office later today.”

Her eyes glanced to the live stream again, before hardening. ”Right… I look forward to it, Miss Mayor.”

That was when she pulled her phone away fast enough to dial another number, and pressed that one to her ear. Detective Newport's would be ringing at that moment.

”Detective Newport, I need to see you in my office today, at your earliest convenience.” The Commissioner said, her voice hiding a hint of ice.


Antonia: W +3 P +5


The Brewery District Ice Man


The Jolly Jalopy, Brewery District


Mentions: NA Interactions: Antonio (@flux)




It was the shakes that woke the ice man up. He found himself face down on a counter. Shifting a little, that counter was actually a bar, and he was in a cute stool to match it. Not that he really cared, in that moment.

”Ughh… shit.”

His head pounded, and there was a burning need in every tremor of his bones. He needed more of that glowy stuff. He had to find his pusher, yes, the ones who leveled guns at him. Where else was he suppose to find that high again, though?

The ice man slowly blinked, wiping his beared face with a hand, before he squinted.

Where exactly was he?


Khor: W +3 P +5




PD Station, Yellow Brick


In collaboration with @Yankee
Mentions: Asterion (@The Savant), The Order (@ERode) Interactions: Adel (@Yankee)





It was a shitshow.

He had lost Merryland and 93rd Street in one fell sweep. The soldiers also reported movement on the border of Yellow Brick and Nickel.

It was clear. An attack on Yellow Brick, his stronghold and final district, was imminent. With his luck, both the Kairo Mafia and Order would time their attack at the same time.

Phade had mentioned Matthias had tried to strike a deal. An unfair one. One that would result in him losing all his territories and being relocated. But now?

Would he fight to the bitter end? Would he surrender? Would they kill him? Or would they, in fact, relocate him?

One of his soldiers, pale-faced, had passed him a card. The Canary, an entity he had marked out as a key player within the city, was interested in striking a deal.

There wasn't much more Glyde could lose, at this point. Except maybe his life and the life of his soldiers. So, he proceeded to call the number on the card.

”...Canary? It's Glyde, the Staff Sergeant of the Del Guarde. As I'm sure you're aware, we're backed up against a corner. I'm interested in what kind of deal you wanted to cut.”

"Straight to the point, huh? That's fine."

The call had come sooner than Adel had expected it, but all that implied was that Glyde was really desperate. Adel had his dossier, but knew admittedly little about the man as a person. So far he seemed sensible at the very least, one to think things through with restraint since he hadn't unleashed the literal big guns yet. It might very well be possible to work with him.

"It's nothing big. I don't have a fighting force to lend you," Adel said, though briefly his eyes looked out of his office's interior window. No doubt Griffon would love to see some action, but he wasn't about to let that happen. "I can give you information instead. Whatever you think will help you out I can get for you if I don't already know it. I can put you in touch with our police commissioner too, she might jump at the chance to collaborate against the mafias targeting you. And I'll even do it for cheap."

Imperceptible to Glyde, Adel leaned forward at his desk. "In return, I want your outside contacts. And a safe passage out of Nocturnia for whoever needs it."

There was a growl on Glyde's end of the line. Whatever his thoughts were, he had the wisdom not to voice them. ”...I can get you that contact. But I don't have authority to grant free passage out. Only the upper echelon outside. And they won't budge unless you sweeten the pot considerably for them.

“If you can agree with that… I'd need to know what gyfts they have on their end. And who's close to their leader. Someone that their boss will cave for…”


There was a moment of quiet as Adel considered it. It had been too much to hope for that Sergeant Glyde could guarantee a way out, he knew that. But military contacts were a good start, especially as he now knew they were interfering a lot more in Nocturnia than anyone had originally thought.

"Second part's gonna be harder. And more dangerous," he said, "but not impossible. 10k and I'll find out, and tell you what I’ve already got."

”Done.” Glyde said with little hesitation. ”Just give me the bank details and I’ll send it.”

After Glyde was given the bank details of the enigmatic Canary, he wired $10,000. ”You’d really better not be fucking me over, I swear…”

"I take my business very seriously, sergeant," Adel responded humorlessly. "And I trust you'll be connecting me with your superiors. For now, I hope you've got a pen."

It would take time to find information on a mafia's loved ones if they didn't want them to be found. And most didn't, for obvious reasons. Their gyfts were a different matter entirely, and much harder to keep secret as it were.

There was a shuffle of paper on Glyde's side. ”Ready. Fire away, Canary.”


Adel: W +3 P +5, W +1, Glyde: -1 W




PD Station, Yellow Brick


Mentions: NA Interactions: Anyone attacking Yellow District




The afternoon sun failed to penetrate low clouds. Glyde sat there on the roof, legs over the edge, staring in the direction of Nickel. Just yesterday morning he thought things were looking up for him, with the airdrop from outside.

But now? He had lost two districts overnight, and he could feel hands tightening around his throat for the last one.

He stared into the distance, his teeth gritted as his mind racked with options. Before his radio buzzed. ”Sir, we got ‘em.”

”Put him in the holding cell, like how we discussed.” Glyde answered easily, before he rose to his feet.

The Canary had given him quite a bit of helpful information. Hints on the Kairo Mafia Boss’ ability to swap bodies. Their identity, dark-haired and light-skinned. Someone to look out for. Elara and her plant ability. Existence of a Zerek. Someone named Mitzie without a gyft. Someone named June who was a healer. Hints of a ‘gun head' in the Order. And, what he already knew - Matthias and his smoke head, and that one woman, named Celina, and her ‘monster house' ability.

Appraising the information, it wasn't a lot to go off. But it was more than what he knew the night previous. And taking the Kairo Mafia's right hand man, Krish, might just be his ticket out of this.

His soldiers were deployed to patrol a block out from the PD station. Soldiers had their guns drawn and ready, patrolling every inch of the station, eyes on every entryway. Krish was strapped down in a chair in a locked holding cell, a button-activated bomb wrapped around his chest. The words ‘Parley’ were written on a sign board on the roof of the station.

Glyde was counting on Celina to use her ability to find Krish, and stop before he was forced to blow him up. Krish was their gambit to get an audience with the boss of the Kairo Mafia, maybe Matthais. And negotiate a way out of this.

He lowered a pair of shades over his face, matching the rest of his men. And, taking his station with his men in front of the holding cells, he waited.




Glyde: W +1 P +3
Matthias: W +3 P +10


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Hidden 6 days ago Post by LanaStorm
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LanaStorm

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Emily Newport



BAD NOC COPS

When Emily entered the Commissioner's office, Antonia hand her cheek on a palm, elbow propped against her armrests as she spun to meet her gaze.

”Ah, Detective. Please, have a seat. I won't take up too much of your time.”

Her shades hid her eyes as she gestured for Emily to sit.

Emily strutted her ass into the Commissioner office, a night of gunning down goons in North Battleford had the young woman fiending for a Noc Noc Veggie Burger. She smiled and slowly took a seat before the woman.

“Hey boss, what do you need from me~?”

[b][color=b20000]”I wanted to discuss your performance last night.”[/b]

Antonia made a show of lifting up the written report Emily had submitted regarding the incident. ”’Nothing of note’? So why am I getting reports that not a single gang member from your confrontation was put in cuffs?

“It was a bloodbath, Detective Newport. You know what that makes us look like?”


“Like winners, sucks when they don’t wanna give up huh chief? It’s ok we can sweep this shit under the rug.” Emily smiles.

The Commissioner scoffed through her nose. ”Not good enough. That's not how we do things here, you know that.

“Put your badge and gun on my table. You're suspended for the rest of the day.”


“Listen boss it sounds like some losers have been breathing down your neck, about me or something else.” Emily puts her very special gun and badge on the table.

“Just tell me what I have to do to deal with ‘em, criminals die in Nocturnia all the time. This sounds and feel political.” She was right the Commissioner wasn’t herself, maybe she didn’t eat or maybe Vincent or some Mafiso was pounding down on her.

”It's true, you're right.” The Commissioner said, pressing her temple with a hand. ”We kill the criminals, we wring out the cloth of Nocturnia soaked in blood we take. But we always try to take ‘em alive. It is the only thing that separates us from them. The Battleford 20 boss survived the fire from the copters. There was a discharge from your gun. You had every advantage, but you didn't bring in a man to serve his sentence. He escaped us in death.

“You see where I'm getting at here? Look at Detective MacAoidh's case yesterday. He killed his entire gang too. But he brought the boss in. That's what I'm looking for. If you have the advantage, the opportunity, take it.”


Antonia sighed, leaning back in his chair. ”Take the day off and think about it. I'll see you at work again tomorrow, alright?”

“He held my guy hostage, couldn’t let a NPD officer go down with him. I’ll ‘try’ to bring more in next time.” With that Emily sauntered off, probably to grab that veggie burger she was craving.
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Hidden 6 days ago 6 days ago Post by flux
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flux Tuna Tube

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Akir Bondar, Otto Bondar





Mentions @flux Akir Bondar[NPC], Otto Bondar[NPC], @The Savant@LanaStorm Soylent Green.
The Brewery District - HO JOC HQ


Akir’s leg bounced. She looked over the numbers on the screen again. Nothing. No correlations, no data of significance. Another fruitless experiment. Tired eyes darted back to the top of the report. Maybe she missed something. An error present, maybe. Nothing. No interference, another sleepless night turned morning, another dead end. Frustration fuelling her movements she swatted for her packet of cigarette’s only to smack them off the table across the room.

“Oh. Just. Shi-.” She turned finding one of her patients. “-iiiiiooooot.” She looked the child in the eye. Her hardened expression quickly softened. “Heeey bud. What are you doing up here?”

The child’s eye’s stared through her to the screen. “Did it not work again?”

Akir’s mouth fought a frown and instead smiled. “Not quite. It showed us what not to do.” Akir’s smile became genuine. “So that means we’re a little bit closer to a cure.”

The child’s eyes lit up somewhat. “Does that mean we’ll be better soon?”

Akir looked at the child. The professional inside her knew not to lie. False hope was as deadly as the worst of diseases, but the humanity inside her begged to say yes. She forced her mouth open. “I don’t know, but I hope so.”

A nurse entered the room. “Akir, Mr Bondar is demanding your presence at the top of the tower.”

Akir held her emotions back. “Then you should tell him he knows where to find me and why I have to be here.”

The nurse shook his head. “He’s not taking no for an answer.”

Akir spat back involuntarily. “Then you tell that fu-.” She glanced at the child again. “-uuuuuny man. That I’ll be up shorty.”

The child spoke quickly. “Please don’t go. The rooms are scary. The glowing snakes in the ground will start talking again-.”

Akir moved to the child, crouching down. “I know. I know. Mr Bondar is a… foolish man though. If I don’t see him, he might do some silly things.” Akir took in the fear within the child’s eyes and softened her voice further. “And I know the rooms are scary, but if you’re not in your rooms while I’m away kids like Scotty could accidently set the whole tower on fire. That wouldn’t be good, would it?”

The child looked unconvinced. Akir sighed. “I’ll be as quick as I can. I promise.” Akir looked to the nurse. “Let me know the moment they’re secure.”

Akir rode the elevator up watching the city sprawl before her. Every floor she passed upward dropped her heart lower. She had her post, and she was being torn away from it. There were those who needed her more than anyone else in this city and rather than come down the big man upstairs still saw fit to drag her up to him. She growled looking at the door. “This better be important. Or I’ll throw you off this bloody tower myself.”

The doors slid open. A stiflingly warm office with a reflective floor and a sturdy metal desk next to the window walls looking over the city. A thin wirery man wearing glowing glasses and a coat that didn’t quick suit or fit him held two glasses and a bottle of alcohol. He greeted Akir with a nod, opening the bottle and pouring out two drinks, offering Akir one. “Courtesy of our familial friend Antonio.”

She declined. “You know I don’t drink. Also aren’t you sweating in all that with the aircon off?”

Otto tilted his head. “Ah yes, watching your health. Best stick to smoking.” Akir snarled but Otto paid no mind, tilting the glass through his mask filter and diving into his thoughts at once. “I have good news dear sister of mine. Firstly, affordable every day eviro-wear.” Otto adjusted his jacket. “If the world won’t take a climate crisis seriously, then we can at least prepare the vulnerable for it. Should the wet bulb temperature tip past the lethality mark, they can at least survive it.” Akir raised an eyebrow, frustration building and ready to boil over if this was the only reason she was here.

Otto continued. “Secondly, thanks to the good subsidiary of Noc Noc Burger and the personal aid of that charming miss Soylent, the self-sufficiency city program test was successful. All that stands now is actual city-wide construction of infrastructure and Nocturnia might never worry of shortage or aid delays ever again.” That was good news. It might even be the best news Akir heard in an exceptionally long time. Otto walked along the side of his desk running his hand along the edge. As his hand flew off the end his head rolled over, eye’s back on Akir. “However.” Akir grimaced. It was never good when Otto said ‘however’.

He spoke again. “It is highly unlikely that the forces that be outside this city would enjoy us finding such stability. In fact, they might see it as a rogue state possessing the power of God becoming a cohesive threat.” He picked up a file and passed it to Akir. “The reason you’re here. Skim that. Can it be done?”

Akir looked at the blank folder, then Otto. “You could have just sent me this. You know what happens to those kids when I’m not around.”

Otto offered a curt smile. “Then I suggest you stop wasting our time and review that little document.”

Akir furrowed her brow and flipped the folder open. She found herself skimming through the theory quickly and it wasn’t long before frustration turned to anxiety. Looking up after a few minutes she questioned Otto. “Modular heavy armour outfits, light grapple rigs, Gyft protective suits, what the hell are you planning?”

Otto smiled. “The chaos within the city is increasing. Nocturnia Performance Vehicles has already been split, it’s other half now operational as Nocturnia Defiance Armouries, N.DEF ARMS, and adapted for personnel protection applications. I think native police units would be dying for an upgrade specialised for the nature of the city, and through incorporating Khor’s experience with firefights I think they shouldn’t be found wanting. Educational conversation that was. Fire and movement.”

Akir paid no notice to Otto’s rambling as she went over the project that followed. Pages flipped more rapidly. Anxiety turning to fear. The information not being fully digested but the overall content sinking in. Finally at the end of the folder in the appendages she found her eye’s locked with the photos of the prototypes. Her voice was a whisper when she spoke. “Why?”

Otto drank then looked out over the city before repeating himself. “Can it be done?”

Akir’s eyes wandered side to side, speaking almost trance like as she recounted what she’d just read. “A metallic cage enveloping the body for purposes of elevating personal performance and or combat endurance. The suit must be permanently fused to the user via drilling bolts directly into the skeletal structure enabling synaptic clamps to splice into the nervous system. The suit may then be used to amplify the user’s physical ability according to the power available to the suit.”

Otto rolled the glass in his hand impatiently. “Yes, I know what it is. Can. It. Be. Done?”

Akir locked eyes with Otto. “Damaging the bone marrow in such a way leaves rejection and necrosis inevitable. The immune system will fail first. If they’re lucky they’ll suffer infection and perish. That's if shock from the pain caused by synaptic clamps slicing nerves doesn’t-. “

Otto interjected. “Pain can be managed.” He took another sip. Akir continued. “-doesn’t kill them after integration. If the suits are powered to the degree in the report the body will slowly tear itself apart. The user will eventually expire through multiple organ failures, driven by cellular death, not unlike lethal radiation exposure.”

Otto finished his drink. “So, it can be done. How long would such a subject last, physically, your estimate?”

Akir's eyes darkened. “At best, in a sterile intensive care environment with the power source off, a few weeks, months maybe.” Her eyes began to water. “Otto what poor bastard have you done this to?”

Otto raised his hands. “Whoa hey. I haven’t done this to anyone. It’s just on paper. A theoretical project for a rainy day.”

Akir dropped the file. “Why would you design this?”

Otto picked up the glass he poured for Akir, raising it to the wall on the horizon out the window. “Because beyond this great pen we live in, we find ourselves surrounded by a military force with more men than we have bullets. I balanced that equation by formulating a force multiplier. So should such contingency be needed, we have one.”

Akir felt fire rising in her. “We wouldn’t need a contingency if they didn’t have a reason to fear us. If we cure the Gyft we wash the target off peoples backs. If you just distributed a fraction of the wealth in this tower to my efforts, I might have even already had that goddamn cure! A cure for you Otto! So you can see the world like everyone else again!”

Otto drank from the second glass, eyes locked on Akir. He raised the glass to eye level, liquid sloshing around it’s halfway mark. “That’s the problem with you. You see the glass as half full. You think if you are noble and just that the world will become a better place. A future dependent on hope, dependent on chance. I see the glass half empty. It’s statistically proven that the pessimistic make the best judgements on risk analysis, and the numbers don’t lie Akir.”

Otto walked to the window. “And even with you here, your Gyft suppressing mine, blinding me to the flowing numbers of reality, I can still see the facts laid before me.” He turned to Akir, the desk in between them. “The entropy within this city is increasing beyond that which is measurable. The system is fracturing, failing under forces it was never meant to contain, and the unknown is seeping in through the cracks, corrupting what we thought we once understood. It may not be long now until we have no choice but to manifest our destiny through blood alone. The only question is, will you be ready?”

Akir stood resolute. “I know that I’m not giving up. I could lose my clinic, my research and everything around me, and I’ll still keep trying to find that cure. To hell with your projects. You can’t steer me down this path Otto.”

Otto’s eyes rested on Akir for a moment, then back into the drink. “Foolish.” He contemplated finishing the glass. Instead, he put it down. “But admirable.”

He pulled his chair back, then slid down to the desk. “I’m not a monster Akir. I want to believe you will succeed. I want to put the entirety of my resources behind you. The times being as they are however will not be kind to miscalculation. If we are to survive the coming violence, we must follow where the numbers tell us is safe.”

Akir huffed and turned to leave. She’d wasted enough time up here. As she walked to the elevator Otto spoke. “I’ll arrange for more funding to be allocated to your clinic. Enough so your patients are cared for as not to distract your efforts on your cure.”

Akir entered the elevator. Her eyes betrayed the confusion of emotion within her from that statement. As she looked back at Otto, he rolled down his mask and gave a small but genuine smile. “I don’t like your odds Akir, but I wish you the best regardless.”

In that moment Akir saw her brother for the first time in what felt like years. The quiet, inventive boy who created contraptions alongside his sister. She raised her hand but the elevator doors closed before she could speak. The elevator began to trundle back down toward her clinic. She stared at her reflection thinking back to the kind-hearted man her brother used to be before his Gyft slowly stripped him of his humanity.

Her head fell low as she tapped her fingers on the door. “I’m going to make this right Otto. I’m going to make this right for everyone.”

The doors retracted open. She marched to her desk.

Back to work.
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Hidden 4 days ago Post by Qia
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Qia A Little Weasel

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago


In collaboration with @The Savant
Mentions: Vincent (@Estylwen) Interactions: Asterion (@The Savant)


Shuffling Allegiances: Part One

The streets of Nickel thrummed with a vibrant, nocturnal dynamism that pulsed through the air like an electric current. As Emilia Castiglione emerged from a narrow alleyway, her keen, observant gaze was immediately drawn to the imposing structure of the Kairo Skyscraper looming ahead, the gravity of her mission settling heavily upon her shoulders. She had meticulously chosen her attire for what was bound to be a pivotal meeting, donning a tailored crimson pencil skirt that beautifully accentuated her figure, complemented by a sophisticated black lace bodysuit beneath. Draped over her frame was a midnight-blue leather bomber jacket, its exquisite texture and sleek silhouette drawing the eyes of passersby; the jacket featured subtle embellishments that shimmered gently, enhancing its overall refinement without overshadowing her ensemble.

Crucially, her look was completed by a glossy clutch, masterfully crafted in a dark hue that harmonized artfully with the rest of her attire. While it might appear merely ornamental at first glance, this seemingly innocuous accessory concealed an assortment of carefully chosen essentials—discreet yet indispensable tools she might require during her time in the bustling district.

The chaotic essence of Nickel revealed itself to have an underlying design, one woven by the astute hands of Asterion Kairo. Emilia's extensive exploration into his persona had crafted a vivid portrait of a man who relished the thrill of unpredictability and challenge, whose ambitions were driven as much by the allure of dominion as they were by the turmoil he sought to master.

In other words, the woman was not entirely sure of what to expect of the man.

As she approached the grand entrance of the towering skyscraper, she became acutely attuned to the myriad sensations that surrounded her, each element cataloged as part of her sensory panorama. However, it was the sudden flicker of movement in a shadowy side alley that made her pause instinctively. A silhouette swept across a dimly illuminated doorway, vanishing too swiftly for her to discern its purpose. Was it a lookout? A random passerby? Or one of Kairo’s many eyes?

She didn’t stick around to confirm the answer.

Instead, Emilia stepped inside, the lobby before her a study in modern elegance, its polished floors and sleek furnishings illuminated by soft, ambient lighting. As she moved towards the front desk, she couldn’t help but notice the subtle tremor of unease in the receptionist's demeanour. The young woman, likely no older than eighteen, wore a crisp uniform that spoke of professionalism, yet her stance revealed hints of uncertainty and inexperience.

“Good evening,” Emilia greeted regardless, her voice imbued with the practiced calm of a seasoned negotiator accustomed to maneuvering through tense interactions. “I’m here to see Mr. Kairo.”

The cute blonde behind the front reception desk on the ground floor smiled at the woman approaching. She had a curiosity in her eyes but a slight confusion at the same time. Was Mister Kairo expecting someone that she didn’t know about? Her voice a soft, pleasant, and welcoming tone, “Welcome to the Kairo Skyscraper,” it sounded like she had said that same line a thousand times until it sounded perfect coming out.

Sitting there in her comfortable office chair as she clicked a few buttons and used the mouse to pull up the agenda. “Is Mister Kairo expecting you?” it was. with the time of day — night actually — she didn’t assume he was expecting anyone when she glanced at the time. 23:20.

However, Mitzie still pulled up the scheduling to reveal that there were not scheduled visitations or meetings at this time. Her bright blue ocean eyes glancing up at the woman who was dressed very nicely — lacy — maybe this was one of those visits? Her face cracked a crooked smile as she was trying to keep her face straight, “I do not see any registered meetings scheduled, what is your name? I will give him a call and figure out if he’s taking visitors.

Emilia graced the receptionist with a measured smile, an expression artfully crafted to exude both warmth and authority.“Emilia Castiglione,” she introduced herself confidently, allowing the other’s eye to remain on her demeanour. “And no, he isn’t expecting me, but I would be most grateful if you could inform him of my presence. Kindly mention that it pertains to a shared acquaintance.”

“Please take your time,” Emilia continued, infusing her words with an almost soothing quality. She gestured toward the chic and contemporary aesthetics of the skyscraper, appreciating its impressive design. “It’s clear that Mr. Kairo possesses a strong appreciation for both style and structure. I would prefer not to disturb that needlessly.”

Emilia then expanded her awareness, attuning her senses to the subtle vibrations of the building and the small sounds of any of its occupants bustling about. This awareness had become a practiced habit-an amalgamation of instinct and practicality- that she remained ever cognizant of her environment. Her gaze briefly flitted to a corner of the lobby, where the polished gleam of metal signalled the presence of security personnel. A slight inclination of her head indicated she had silently documented their positions, assessing their potential threat level as effortlessly as one might glance at a watch.

However, her focus quickly returned to Mitzie, brimming with patience. “I’m happy to wait,” she said. “Though I imagine Mr. Kairo wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity for engaging conversation.”

Mitzie was somewhat confused about this whole ordeal since she usually never had guests showing up at this time and assumptions, questions, and a bunch of other thoughts were popping into her mind. Things that she knew she couldn’t share outloud or not so openly. “I will warn you. It’s a little late so I do not know if he will be up for such a spontaneous meeting,” she giggled a little while moving the chair with wheels over to the side of the desk that had the direct phone line that connected to all the other phones in the building. She pressed a few numbers and let it ring.

The phone rang twice before Asterion picked up. Mitzie could tell there was a flatness and exhaustion to his voice. “I apologize for disturbing you, Mister Kairo, though you have a visitor.

Yes.

I understand.

Mitzie glanced up at the woman before looking away again in concentration, “Her name is Emilia Castiglione and she said that you two might have a shared acquaintance,” her lips rubs together a little bit while she played with the cord of the phone. Nodding her head while listening to the man.

I do not know how to answer that, sir,” Mitzie seemed nervous and glanced at Emilia yet she forced a smile.

Nodding her head while listening, “Yes, I will let her know. Thank you.

The woman hung up the phone with a smile while turning to Emilia, “He said he will meet with you,” she stood up while finishing her words. Mitzie gestured for the woman to follow her. “It is a little bit of a maze up to the penthouse,” the woman confessed while leading the woman down a back hall. A different hall compared to others going through even the last main guests of Asterion — Mitzie stepped and angled herself in a way that Emilia wouldn’t be able to see the buttons she pressed before pressing enter.

When the proper code was entered and enter was pressed, two doors opened and slid into the walls before an elevator door opened up. “If you press the highest button with a T, it will bring you to floor one-hundred. It’ll open to a long hallway, go into the third door and it’ll take you up a spiral staircase. Stand at the top of the staircase, it ends into a wall, but knock onto the wall and wait,” Mitzie smiled at the woman.

Emilia nodded graciously. “Thank you, you’ve been very helpful.”

As she stepped inside the sleek confines of the elevator, she caught Mitzie’s gaze one final time just as the doors began to glide shut. “It seems Mr. Kairo has quite the labyrinth to protect himself,” she quipped lightly with an amused lilt. “I’ll make sure to follow your instructions carefully.”

With that, the doors sealed her within the unassuming yet sophisticated elevator, enveloping her in a cocoon of metal. Upon pressing the button designated "T," her countenance shifted subtly, her lips setting into a contemplative line. The instructions she had received were decidedly unconventional, but she recognized the wisdom in not dismissing them as mere quirks of eccentricity. Each element, she understood, was likely intended to test visitors or disorient them before the pivotal encounter with the man himself.

As the elevator ascended, Emilia adjusted the strap of her clutch, her exterior concealing the anticipation that simmered beneath the surface. This meeting, she knew, could shift the balance of her mission in ways she could only begin to imagine.

The elevator's gentle chime signalled its arrival at the designated floor, the doors gliding open to reveal a long, lavishly appointed hallway that was precisely as Mitzie had described. Emilia stepped out, her stilettos clicking softly against the floor, and made her way to the third door on the right. As she reached the door, her hand hesitated briefly on the handle before she ascended the spiral staircase that led to the next level. At the top, she stood before the wall as instructed, raising her hand and knocking firmly.

And then, she waited.

There was a handful of minutes between the woman’s knock and a ding that could be heard. A light vibration from the wall could be heard and felt before the wall popped out and the secret door lifted up. Elevator doors opened up and Asterion was standing there, his immediate body language was not very welcoming and stone-like, as his eyes were icy. His once put together suit was missing a tie, the first few buttons of the midnight blue shirt unbuttoned. His cuffs were rolled up nicely but looked like it was quickly and carelessly done. The raven black hair of the man was disheveled and he combed a handful of fingers through his hair while looking at the woman.

Asterion’s eyes seemed to go from icy to slightly confused when looking at the woman, his eyes glancing over her once, and meeting her amber-hazel looking eyes. One quick thought went through his mind before he spoke — Is this Krish’s doing? — with how she was dressed. He wasn’t sure if she was a prostitute, a hooker, or someone that enjoyed the aesthetic of a late night walker.

Hello, Miss Castiglione,” he spoke evenly while staring into her eyes. It might have been a little intense since he wasn’t shifting away from her gaze. “Is there a particular reason you are here? So late at night.” he wanted to emphasize the time. It wasn’t like he was doing anything besides the mountains of paperwork he had been ignoring for the past few weeks. Figuring out where everything was at. He was balancing books at the moment which he did need a break from but he wasn’t sure about being bothered by a stranger.

Emilia’s gaze absorbed every nuance before her- the tousled strands of hair that framed his face, the haphazardly rolled cuffs that hinted at apathy, and the conspicuously absent tie that suggested a lack of concern for decorum. Was he a man surprised or merely indifferent to the world around him? His frosty demeanour, a manifestation of his disinterest, scarcely unnerved her; on the contrary, it mirrored her expectations of a figure with his reputation, leaving her poised and composed in the face of it all.

“Good evening, Mr.Kairo,” Emilia began, her tone respectful but not deferential. “I apologize for the late hour, but I assure you my reasons for being here warrant the inconvenience.”

The silence lingered momentarily, a calculated pause that served to establish the flow of the discourse and assert her dominance in the exchange.

“As you might suspect, my visit is not without purpose. I’ve come to discuss matters of mutual interest-issues that could affect the stability of Nickel and perhaps even extend beyond it.” Her gaze briefly flicked to his unbuttoned collar, then returned to meet his piercing stare. “I won’t take more of your time than necessary, despite us both being able to benefit from this conversation. Otherwise, I can take my leave and we’ll consider this encounter a fleeting introduction.”

Mutual interest issues, and he thought about that line a little more as he listened to the rest of what she had to say. A nod came from him as his eyes looked elsewhere in thought. There was some severity to the situation if she was coming this late at night but he wondered if it was a trap. An implantation of thoughts and his eyes sharpened while he focused off her line of sight then he looked at her. “I will entertain your visit,” stepping to the side in the elevator, he gestured for her to come in, and gave her space to do so. It was a more private elevator, smaller, but it could probably hold three or four people comfortably close.

Who do you work for?” his eyes glanced over to her. “I would say it is safe to assume that you work under one of the other district leaders,” he added.

Emilia stepped into the elevator, her lips curving into a subtle, almost cryptic, smile.

“Your assumption regarding my affiliations with influential entities is not entirely misplaced,” she replied. “However, I think we should refrain from framing this dialogue within the confines of loyalties or power structures. Instead, I invite you to perceive my presence here more as a potential collaboration—an opportunity to forge a mutually beneficial alliance.” She shifted slightly, though she maintained complete ease in his territory.

“Let’s just say my interests lie in ensuring that the delicate balance in Nickel—and perhaps beyond—remains intact. I believe in dealing with destabilizing forces before they escalate into chaos, and in that regard, I believe our goals might align more than you’d expect.”

With a fleeting glance at the array of buttons adorning the elevator panel, her tone softened imperceptibly. “I assure you, I have no intention of squandering your valuable time, Mr. Kairo. Quite the opposite; my purpose here is to ensure we maximize our time together—for the enrichment of both our interests.”

Instead of using any of the main buttons on the panel, he chose to use a button somewhat out of the way. A black looking button that looked somewhat false or more like a camera in a way. He placed his thumb onto it and within a few seconds, the door shut, and they began to move up. An artificial feminine voice calling out, “Welcome back, Mister Kairo. You were not gone that long,” it ensued a conversation or at least tried too.

I did not leave at all Eden,” he casually replied to the artificial intelligence.

Oh! I did not notice. I am sorry,” Eden apologized.

Asterion sighed while glancing over to Emilia, “I have a guest, Eden,” he informed the A.I..

I apologize, Mister Kairo. I will give you privacy,” she stated while something dinged like she turned herself off.

As the elevator doors opened, they opened into a modern sleek office space that was its own room from the other parts of the house. “You talk as if you know my interests, Miss Castiglione. It is a little insulting that your boss did not show up themself, but I understand…us leaders can be very busy,” he walked into the office and approached his desk but did not sit down.

What do you mean by the balance of Nickel and beyond. It sounds like you are holding back something,” he picked up a decor item from his desk as he looked at it. Examining it a little before setting it down and glancing at Emilia.

As the elevator doors glided open, Emilia entered an environment that seemed to embody all she had anticipated about Asterion Kairo. The office was an arresting amalgamation of opulence and authority, and beyond the expansive windows, the myriad lights of Nickel shimmered against the velvety night sky. This breathtaking panorama served as a bold proclamation of supremacy- a reminder that this was a man who was perpetually a step removed from the fray below, always masterfully in control of his domain.

Much like the woman she’d come to respect and represent in this very moment.

Her gaze returned to Asterion, her amber-hazel eyes momentarily straying to the decorative object he had lifted before returning to his visage. “An impressive space,” she remarked. “It reflects a keen eye for balance-strength tempered with refinement. Much like its wonder, I imagine.” With an air of nonchalance, she adjusted the strap of her clutch, her movements fluid and effortless.

“I can empathize with your sentiments regarding the less-than-ideal scenario of addressing a mere emissary instead of the mastermind orchestrating the dynamics behind the scenes. Nevertheless, allow me to reassure you that this is wholly intentional and not a mere oversight on our part.” Emilia held Asterion’s gaze, the faintest bit of tension visible in the set of her shoulders before she exhaled softly, allowing a touch of vulnerability to creep into her tone-not as a weakness, but as a calculated gesture of sincerity.

“You’ve built something remarkable here, Mr. Kairo, but even the most formidable players must stay ahead of the game. The truth is, this isn’t just about balance per se; it’s about the forces threatening it. Forces that I suspect intersect with certain individuals you’re already keeping a wary eye on.” She lowered her eyelashes contemplatively before meeting his gaze again.

“Take for instance, Vincenzo Accardo.”

Asterion glanced at her when she complimented his office and he stayed quiet on the note. How she explained it was an indirect compliment to him and he didn’t care to respond. His eyes seemed to catch how she adjusted her clutch which she has done before. Was there something in there? Was the woman nervous to be around him or alone with him? That was something women were terrified of at times, to be alone with any guy, so he could understand if there was some uncomfortability in her because of that.

Thank you,” he finally got out when she began complimenting the material goods — his space once again. The tower. “Working behind the scenes? So…” he thought for a second. “I cannot fully trust you since you could be working behind the scenes, against… let’s say me?” the man wanted to see her reaction to his words. Everyone worked behind the scenes in one way or another. Emilia was choosing her words carefully, too carefully in his opinion, and he was getting the vibe that she was not letting on a lot that was on her mind.

His eyes rolled when she brought up, Vincenzo Accardo, “And I was hoping to not have to talk about business for the rest of the night,” his tone was sarcastic. There was no truth in that statement because he knew she was there to talk business. Showing up at such a late hour to talk about other districts was somewhat annoying. A hand lifted to his head and he began to rub his temple on that side softly.

What about him?” The man asked.

“Business has a regrettable tendency to encroach upon the most inopportune hours, would you now agree?” Emilia responded, a subtle hint of a sardonic smile dancing upon her lips. She allowed his earlier remark regarding trust to linger in the air, savouring the silence a moment longer than might seem socially acceptable; however, her expression was one of deep contemplation rather than defensiveness.

“You’re right to approach any representative with caution. After all, trust is earned, not given. But I suspect we can agree that caution doesn’t preclude conversation. Especially when it concerns someone like Accardo.” Emilia’s amber-hazel gaze locked with Asterion’s as she leaned in slightly, just enough to suggest she was about to say something worth his attention. “His network is expanding into territories its presence was previously minimal. Key assets- people and resources- have been quietly redirected, some from areas that would typically warrant more oversight. It suggests preparation. For what, exactly, remains to be seen, but the pattern is undeniable.”

Her gaze briefly wandered to the skyline, drawing an implicit connection between the city’s luminous exterior and the maneuvers of power that transpire beneath its surface.

“Vincent isn’t simply expanding blindly either; he’s targeting vulnerabilities, exploiting fractures in alliances, and gathering information on those who stand in his way.”. Her eyes returned to his. Secrets, Mr. Kairo, are as valuable a currency as power in this game. And Vincent? He’s proven quite adept at collecting them.”
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Hidden 1 day ago Post by LanaStorm
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LanaStorm

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Emily Newport



NOC NOC, WHO'S THERE?


Ding dong.

Felix opened the door to his apartment within the nuzzled depths of Smoke Risers, he had been running high-grade drugs and weapons out of this 'shop' for a while now sitting in this apartment was just a part of his job. With aid coming in from the north the gang that had taken over this section of the city always got a cut of the pie, using what they got it would be traded up and used in organized crime. Organized crime funded the gang and the military was paid off nicely, whatever happened down south had nothing to do with Felix and his team. The door crept open and there he saw it.

Staring down the barrel of a shotgun, this wasn't how he was expecting this morning. Some roided up, absolute units that were the blue blood. The 0% body fat, 110% muscle flexed itself the blue-blooded tattoos oozed out on every side of these SWAT units as about a dozen prepared to blow the doors open and everyone inside to the body count. Emily Newport, the voice of reason to the chaos in Smoke Risers, would guide their calloused and twitchy hands.

"Get the fuck down, NPD!" Screamed the point man as the whole troop entered the apartment, Felix was kicked and went flying. The rest was history.

Emily got her collar, and the factory lines for Soylent Green starved as the northern enjoyers of Noc Noc Burger experienced a shortage of meat.
Blue Bloods invade Smoke Risers
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Hidden 10 hrs ago Post by Qia
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Qia A Little Weasel

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In collaboration with @The Savant
Mentions: Vincent (@Estylwen) Interactions: Asterion (@The Savant)


Shuffling Allegiances: Part Two

It seemed like everyone was preparing for one thing or another. Flint was preparing to take down the wall. Other mafia leaders were preparing for their own endeavors — what would Emilia and her leader think of him? If they were scared of Accardo spreading through Nocturnia, would they be worried about him? That he was going to gain 93rd soon enough along with rampaging through Yellow Brick in hopes to concur it. That made him think but somewhat carelessly — would he be next? Would he even be worried about Emilia and the people she was attached to. His eyes examined her, giving her a once over, and staring at her as a whole. Seeing the expression on her face.

The man listened to what she had to say and he was in thought the whole time. “You and your leader are worried about him,” Asterion stated plainly while moving away from his desk. He gestured for Emilia to follow him out of his office, going to a singular door, and opening it up into the living area of his penthouse. Walking into the kitchen, “So, Mister Accardo is worrying you and whoever you are connected with, yes, and you came here to negotiate, because you and your connections are scared, are not able to stand their own, or some other variable?” the man went on asking questions. He was clearly fishing for answers to get a scope of the whole scene from Emilia’s side and to maybe dip into her overall intentions for this meeting.

Everything was mood lit and dark, something that soothed Asterion, and allowed all the outside light to come in. A branch off from the kitchen was the common space. “Do you want anything to eat or drink, Miss Castiglione?” He asked while getting himself something. Why stay in his office when he could sit down with a drink and something to snack on while the woman brought up potential partnerships and explained what she wanted to explain. It’s not like he could go to bed with her in his penthouse. She looked like the type of girl that would take him out of his sleep or at least that was the vibe he was getting from her. Someone who was serious and down to do business.

Emilia trailed Asterion, her heels producing clicks against the floor as they stepped into the expansive kitchen. She paused for a minute, allowing herself to appreciate the streamlines sophistication of the space before responding to his inquiry.

“A drink would be appreciated, thank you. Your choice in which,” she said, her tone polite but assertive as well. While Asterion attended to her request, she leaned against the counter, her eyes unwavering as they tracked his movements and listened to his guesswork.

“How astute of you,” Emilia acknowledged once he had completed his thoughts. “It’s true that Accardo’s moves concern us. He thrives on disruption, on forcing people into situations where they make decisions they wouldn’t otherwise consider. But while some call that fear, I call it leverage. And while he’s been quite effective at exploiting the weaknesses of others, we have no intention of letting his little tricks work for long.”

You are a guest… of sorts,” he commented on her vocalization of acknowledgement. The man began to make a pomegranate vodka drink for the both of them. It was a slightly stronger drink in the sense of having the equivalent of almost three shots though he didn’t imagine either of them would down the liquid nor could you safely with the drink that he was making.

He put a small saucepan on the stove, medium heat, and put water and honey into it. As this was warming up, he grabbed a shaker and put that on the counter. Grabbing vodka, pomegranate juice, orange juice, some fresh mint, and an orange. Before stirring the creation on the stove with a spoon, “Most of the district leaders fuel off forcing others into situations that they wouldn’t otherwise consider. Sometimes it is a necessity to do so,” he glanced over his shoulder as he spoke.

Though why does any of this concern me? I would assume that your leader is concerned about Mister Accardo so you are hoping that I can help or become an ally of sorts?” That was the impression he was getting. If the district leader that Emilia was under was nervous and unsure — he could totally understand reaching out but he was a little busy with having a truce with Matthias and having a promise with Flint. He was unsure that he wanted to get into whatever this group's problems were.

As the saucepan contents boiled down a bit, he poured the contents into the cocktail shaker, tossed some mint leaves into it, ice, orange juice, pomegranate juice, and vodka at the proper ratios for the drink. He began to shake it in one of his hands while turning off the stove, moving the pan to the sink, and looking at Emilia.

Continuing to shake it. The sound of the ice sloshing around in the liquid as he did so, “From what you mentioned, it sounds like Accardo has plans for me. How would you know that? That he has his eyes on Nickel unless you are in contact with him,” Asterion was not fully sure if they were in contact with him or not, but he was pressing buttons to get visual reactions. Sometimes, body language or the lack of vocalization after such comments were such truthful actions versus words.

Before pouring the contents into the two glasses, Asterion put a handful of pomegranate seeds into the glasses. All the seeds mixed around with the ice and some floated to the top. The drinks were pretty visually. Adding a little more mint as a garnish before slicing the orange into circular slices and adding a few to the rim of the glass. In the way he folded them and sliced them to fit on the glass, they looked like a flower.

Asterion took a sip of his and seemed pleased with the outcome, handed Emilia her glass, and he moved out of the kitchen and into the sitting area of his penthouse.

Emilia accepted the glass with a slight incline of her head and trailed behind Kairo into the sitting area. Settling into a seat opposite him, she raised the glass to her lips and savoured a sip, her face a mask of inscrutability-save for a glimmer of approval that betrayed her appreciation for the drink’s exquisite craftsmanship.

“It would be rather reckless for us to remain oblivious to the machinations of those who create ripples in Nocturnia, wouldn’t you agree? Accardo’s maneuvers lack discretion, despite his self-perception of subtlety. He is fundamentally not the kind of person who engages directly with those he perceives as adversaries- at least not until he has already tilted the scale in his favour,” she remarked with an air of sagacity, allowing a brief intermission as the corners of her lips turned upward in the faintest trace of a smile. “Rest assured, we have no correspondence with him. In fact, he has made his intentions unmistakably clear: he regards us as impediments to be eradicated, rather than potential allies to be wooed.”

“That said, alliances are ultimately forged on a foundation of pragmatism. There are instances when even the most autonomous players must acknowledge the advantages of mutual interests.”

Seeing her features falter before taking control of them again caused Asterion to chuckle, “You can smile. That is allowed,” he sat down in his own chair and looked at the woman. “The only thing I can do is use it against you. Remind you that you had a semi-not-so-horrible time while being around me,” Asterion teased her.

Also, watch that drink. It has roughly three shots in it, so I would recommend not downing it,” he mentioned casually while taking another sip of his glass and putting it on the little built in coaster of the chair.

Leaning forward, he grabbed something from the bottom tier of the coffee table, “I am a man that can acknowledge and value the occurrence of shared interests. Yes. It is possible,” he stated while leaning back in his chair and having a deck of cards in his hand. Opening it up as he looked back at Emilia. “Which I might have said this to you before, I have no idea what your interests are, Emilia~, nor do I know the interests of your district leader. You have no idea what my interests are. I could be a hundred times worse than the Head Honcho of the Thorned Roses,” his tone had a voice of not being serious. He was being serious but at the same time, it was late, and how could he rationally sit here and bask in work before going to bed. He had more to do tomorrow… more than he wanted to do in a sense.

Why would I partner with you or your district leader, Emilia? What benefits me?” He pulled out the deck of cards from the pack, setting the pack onto the coffee table, and shuffling the cards — jokers and all.

Asterion started laying cards out in front of her and cards out in front of him. Seven cards faced down. “Since I am entertaining your presence. You can at least entertain me as well, do you know how to play Runner?” Runner was a common street kid card game. It had a few names — Coin poker so you could make cheap bets on it and win small amounts of money, runner because you had to run all cards in a line, or the Nocturnia Dream because if you had all the same suit with all the cards running in a line including the joker; you had a district of cards and won that run against the opponents other cards.

Her head tilted just so, the motion almost imperceptible, Emilia’s lips curling into a smile that spoke of clandestine understanding. “ Runner is it? A game of strategy, intuition…perhaps a bit of luck? No…no, I cannot claim familiarity with it.” Her voice carried a lilt of amusement, as though she were speaking about more than the game.

Shall I confide something?” she murmured, her lashes lowering in a deliberate sweep as her finger traced the crystalline rim of her glass. “ I don’t always need cards to see the game in front of me. It’s…in the shift of weight when someone moves, the hesitation in their voice when they speak, the faint trace of cologne that tells me where he’s been.” Her gaze fixed on his. “ You might even say I’ve made a career out of noticing the things others overlook.

She reclined with an air of cultivated nonchalance, her demeanour softening into a poise of measured self-assurance. “ It’s served me well in more ways than one. After all, when you know what your opponent is going to do before they do it, you don’t need luck. But since you asked about my interests, I’ll admit…I do find a certain charm in unpredictability. It keeps things interesting when observed and kept close.” She picked up her cards, arranging them thoughtfully as she let her words settle.

Now then, shall we see how well I fare at this Runner of yours?

Asterion leaned back slightly, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he considered her words. His fingers tapped on the deck of cards in his hands, the one he didn’t set between them yet. “A career built on noticing what others have missed? Now that is a talent to keep close. I bet you have got kicked out of a lot of casinos,” the man teased her while setting the cards in the middle of the table.

His gaze met hers, steady and unflinching, as though testing whether her confidence might waiver under scrutiny, “But I wonder, Miss Castiglione, does that make you predictable or just —” he chuckled a little, “ — unpredictably consistent?

The man reached out for a card, one that was facing down, flipping it between his fingers, the motion practiced and unhurried. “Runner is an unpredictable game — strategy, luck, and just enough misdirection to keep it interesting. In that way, I suppose it is a bit like people. But since you have got a knack for reading the play before it happens, let us see how well that intuition of yours serves you.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he placed one card face-up on the table, it had a shiny design faintly gleaming under the mood-lit lights of the room. “How you play is you grab five cards, when you get rid of a card, you want to grab from the top of the deck as soon as possible. You do not have to grab a card but you tend to always want five cards in your hand and each turn, you have to make a decision on where to put cards each turn but you cannot continue onto the next row of cards until the first row is filled, then the second, and until the last row,” he continued to explain while he flipped all his seven cards facing up.

🃃 🂫 🃔 🃈 🂳 🂮 🃛


Three of Diamonds. Jack of Spades. Four of clubs. Eight of diamonds. Three of hearts. King of Spades. Jack of Clubs.

We will play, but know this — my deck has a habit of surprising people,” he then flipped over her seven cards as well.

🃕 🂦 🂢 🃉 🃇 🃞 🂾


Five of clubs. Six of Spades. Two of Spades. Nine of Diamonds. Seven of Diamonds. King of Clubs. King of Hearts.

Asterion leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice, his tone dipping into something more private. “And if unpredictability is what keeps things interesting, well, I think we will both enjoy this.

Gesturing for her, “You can select your five cards first, Miss Castiglione.

Emilia scrutinized the array of cards before her with the precision of a tactician unravelling a critical enigma. The polished facade of her composure remained unbroken, her fingers hovering just above the selections like a pianist preparing to strike the first note.

A game of decisions, then,” she mused, selecting her first card—the King of Clubs—and setting it aside. “Much like life itself. Strategy is important, but sometimes, it’s the risks you take that define the outcome.

Her second choice came with equal precision: the Nine of Diamonds. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint but knowing smile as her eyes lifted to Asterion. “As for predictability,” she continued, selecting the Six of Spades, “it’s seldom about being inscrutable. The true art lies in knowing precisely when to let someone believe they’ve unravelled your mysteries.

She placed the King of Hearts alongside the other three cards, her movements unhurried but decisive. “The illusion of predictability can be just as powerful as a genuine surprise, don’t you think?

Her final choice, the Seven of Diamonds, was laid gently on top of her growing hand, completing the selection. Emilia settled back into her chair, her fingers brushing lightly against the rim of her glass. “As for casinos, you might be pleased to know I don’t frequent them. Not out of fear of being banned—more because I prefer games where the stakes feel a little more personal.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, her voice lowering into the same private tone he had adopted moments ago. “And as for your deck’s surprises, let me assure you: I’ve yet to meet a challenge I couldn’t handle.

She gestured toward the table, her posture effortlessly poised. “Your move.

Are you referencing the risk that you took coming here? Alone? To figure out if I would be an ally or not?” Asterion was fishing for answers. They were light hearted and not very deep though it was clear what he was doing. Drawing a card, ace of hearts.

Reaching out and drawing another card, six of diamonds. “And for the illusion of predictability. Statistically, that cannot be an illusion at all,” he added his two cents in while drawing another card. Four of Spades.

There is always a day and time for something new, aye?” he chuckled while picking up his drink and sipping on it before putting it down. Drawing his fourth card while glancing at the ones at the table, eight of hearts.

He thought for a second before drawing his last card, Queen of hearts. That sucks… he thought to himself though it was pleasant to know he was taking away from Emilia’s points by having the Queen and Ace of hearts in his hand.

Asterion placed his first card down, six of diamonds right under his eight, and drew another card — Five of diamonds. “Your turn,” he gestured for the woman before taking another sip of his drink.

Can you play and talk at the same time?” his tone was teasing when he said this. “Business, I mean. We should get back on topic or you are only entertaining me while I am doing absolutely nothing for you. Now answer me this, other than common interests. Why would it benefit me to become an ally of your district?

Emilia’s lips curved in a subtle, enigmatic arc at Asterion’s teasing inquiry. Her fingers hovered above the array of cards, poised as if weighing not just their value but the significance of the moment itself. At last, she selected the King of Hearts, laying it before her.

I suppose you could say venturing here alone was a gamble,” she remarked, her tone dipping into a register of intimate softness. “But tell me, should I fear being alone with you?” She leaned forward just enough for the movement to feel intentional. “Let’s just say I have a penchant for distinguishing wolves from sheep-and you, Mr.Kairo, are anything but a sheep.

Without missing a beat, she drew the Nine of Spades from the deck and positioned it with care beneath the King of Hearts. “As for what benefits you,” Emilia continued, “you’re correct-shared interests are insufficient by themselves. Vincent’s strategy is glaringly transparent: destabilize you, bide his time, and wait for someone else to sweep up the remnants of your influence. That someone, of course, being him. It’s why he approached us instead of risking direct confrontation.

The next card she selected, the Seven of Diamonds, was placed neatly onto the board. “But true alliances, the kind that endure, are not forged from perceived weakness. In my district, we understand the delicate balance of power and the importance of control. And we know when someone like you has the capacity to tip the scales decisively.

Revealing the Queen of Clubs, she placed the card with intention beneath the Nine of Spades. “Consider this,” she mused. “You’ve already placed yourself ahead of Vincent, or he wouldn’t expend energy trying to undermine you. But imagine how much further you could advance with someone capable of deciphering not just the moves on the board, but the motivations behind them. Someone who can see when the queen is maneuvering for your king—or when a pawn conceals ambitions far greater than its station.

Her final draw, the Five of Hearts, was then laid beneath the Seven of Diamonds. “So,” she concludes, “the question isn’t why you would form an alliance with us. It’s why you would choose to face what lies ahead without every possible advantage at your disposal.

Asterion grew quiet as he listened to the woman speak about why he should consider an alliance with them and a part of him wanted to chuckle about it — was she indirectly threatening him? It was an odd scenario. It felt like a trap. “It sounds as if you are giving me two options and two options only. Agree to an alliance with you and your district or bad things happen,” he huffed those words out with a lack of seriousness. Deciding to glance at her cards before putting four of spades under jack of spades, ace of hearts under his three of hearts, and then he drew two cards — two of hearts and three of clubs.

From my perspective, Emilia~ you are saying that I am helpless unless I have you and I benefit from having you if this man ever attacks me. What happens after that? If he ever attacks, are you going to truly be beneficial to me? And after the attack, are we going to continue such a truce or alliance or is it to get him out of the way?” He was curious since he felt like he wasn’t getting the whole story from the woman. There had to be more.

Gesturing for her to go, “Your turn,” he gestured while taking a drink of his drink and crunching on a few pomegranate seeds. Leaning back into his chair even more to get comfortable, “And I would love to meet your district leader before finalizing anything.

Emilia paused, her discerning gaze sweeping over the arrangement of cards before her. She drew her next card: the Ten of Spades. After quiet deliberation, she set aside the Seven of Diamonds and placed it beneath the Nine of Diamonds in her row. Without hesitation, she replenished her hand, drawing the Ace of Clubs with a flicker of satisfaction barely discernible in her expression.

A man like you would hardly need me to point out the flaw in assuming my offer comes with threats. Let me clarify: my presence here isn’t about coercion. It’s about opportunity. I am not giving you two options—just one. The choice to elevate your position by aligning with us.

Asterion’s eyes sharpened when she promptly stated she was giving him one option instead of two — that was a threat in his eyes. Either way, it was a threat nonetheless. “I do not need you to elevate my position,” he evenly stated. “So how about you make me want you instead?

She placed the King of Hearts beneath her Queen of Clubs, drawing a replacement card: 9 of Hearts. “What happens after Accardo?” she continued, her tone firm yet contemplative. “I won’t pretend I can guarantee perpetual collaboration; that’s a decision only time and circumstances can dictate. But consider this: alliances built on mutual interests don’t dissolve when a single threat is neutralized. They evolve. And I believe you’re shrewd enough to see the merit in that.

Her hand hovered over the array before selecting the Ten of Spades and placing it beneath the Six of Spades, bolstering her position. “Should Accardo act against you, the question won’t be whether we’ll stand beside you—we will,” she asserted. “But alliances are not merely about weathering a single storm; they are about fortifying for the ones yet to come. The true question isn’t how we can serve you in this moment, but how we can position you to remain untouchable in the moments that follow.

Drawing the Jack of Diamonds, Emilia’s movements stilled momentarily, her contemplative pause lending gravity to her otherwise seamless actions. She placed the Ace of Clubs beneath the Nine of Hearts, inaugurating her third row, and quickly replenished her hand with the Three of Spades. “As for meeting my district leader,” she added, leaning forward slightly, “I consider it indispensable. My role is to prepare the foundation, but the ultimate decision rests with those above me. Still, I suspect their vision aligns with yours in ways that might surprise you.” The shadow of unspoken complications—Isabella’s precarious position and Mathieu’s kidnapping—flitted across her expression for the briefest moment before vanishing into her usual composure.

Does that address your concerns? Or are there still mysteries you’d like me to unravel?

Listening to her speak had him nod his head a little bit. There was only one thing that her and her district leader wanted — safety. Safety from Accardo and he wondered why. Did they make a deal with him and it went south? Was he targeting them for a reason? She did hint and give vague details but there was always more under the surface.

And why would you want to help me so greatly?” that was a somewhat concerning position for him. Emilia was here on behalf of her district leader which he found somewhat insulting that Bella Delacroix. Glancing at the cards in his hand; eight of hearts, queen of hearts, two of hearts, three of clubs, and five of diamonds.

Asterion put his three of clubs under his four of clubs, five of diamonds under his three of diamonds, and decided to end his turn by drawing two cards — eight of spades and four of hearts. “I will be generous to you, your district, and your district leader. I will overlook that she did not meet me herself and you are here to set the foundation for such a meeting. Color me interested but not finalized in any way,” he added his two cents in. Wanting Emilia to know that he wasn’t completely pleased with this initial situation.

It sounds like we will not necessarily be an alliance but a situational convenience for each other. How could you put it? You itch my back and I itch yours, type of deal,” the uncertainty in Emilia’s tone and words showed him that her district leader was most likely not interested in continuing anything long term but he wasn’t necessarily interested in playing big brother for her district either. He would humor and entertain the district leader and figure out what they truly wanted but he would focus on Emilia at the moment — she was right in front of him.

Emilia deftly placed the Jack of Diamonds beneath the Ace of Clubs, her third row steadily taking shape. Yet, beneath her measured exterior, a flicker of turmoil lingered, an unspoken tension etched in the subtle tightening of her jaw. She drew her next card—the Ten of Diamonds—and her fingers hovered briefly over the deck before selecting the King of Diamonds. Placing it beside the Jack, she bolstered her third row with the assurance of someone who understood the stakes all too well.

Her pause before speaking was infinitesimal, a hesitation so fleeting it could be mistaken for nothing more than a breath.

You want to know why Isabella sent me and not herself?” Emilia met Asterion's gaze squarely. “Because Accardo already holds leverage over her. Someone she cannot afford to lose. Someone she…” Her voice faltered for the briefest moment before she pressed on, her composure visibly hardening.

Someone she would burn the entire district to save.

Emilia placed the 9 of Hearts beneath the King of Diamonds, drawing another card—the 4 of Diamonds.

We are not here to beg for protection or to barter for scraps,” she continued, her voice regaining its sharpness. “We are here because Accardo’s strength lies in exploiting vulnerabilities, and our district’s survival hinges on forging alliances strong enough to withstand him. If he continues unchecked, it won’t just be Isabella’s pain he leverages—it will be yours, too.

The Three of Spades found its place beneath the Nine of Hearts, her third row now nearly complete. Drawing the Jack of Hearts to replace it, Emilia seemed to dismiss the card entirely, her attention fixed on Asterion. Her gaze, tinged with an almost incendiary crimson in the dim light, bore into him with an unrelenting intensity. “Isabella’s readiness to act, to make sacrifices others would balk at, may be a liability to some. But to a potential ally like you, it is an assurance. She will not hesitate—not for a heartbeat—when it comes to defending those who stand beside her.

The room fell into a weighted silence, the subtle flicker of light reflecting off the polished surface of the cards. It was a moment not just of negotiation, but of calculated risk—a gamble Emilia seemed intent on winning. Whether her declarations carried unvarnished truth, shrewd manipulation, or some amalgam of both was a mystery that time alone would unravel. And then…

Perhaps I overstep. But tell me, what would you do for someone you couldn’t afford to lose?
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