Frankly, the look Zzyxx gave to both Able and Abigail could not have been more sour. It was as if he were trying to kill them with his glare - or indeed, trying to hold himself back from doing so - though it could also be misconstrued as severe constipation on his part if one saw the expression out of context.
Mister Person’s reaction to Able’s dramatic entrance was more subdued, at least visually, only taking another drag from his cigar. To Kimber, he offered but a shrug, and to Omnivore’s enthusiastic greeting, he responded ’Well, thank you. I’ve been working with some other agents on this for a while, so I’ve been a bit busy.‘ He nudged his head over at Zzyxx and Rutabaga as he mentioned the other agents, just as Rubert was gifted a box of apple juice by Vincent, much to his confusion.
‘Uh… thank you, Vincent,’ he muttered, accepting the gift somewhat hesitantly before poking the straw through the covering and taking a sip. Admittedly, he felt himself calmed just a bit by the notion of an assassin wanting to get on his good side - and it was at least better than the actual weedkiller Abigail seemed to be drinking.
Everyone else ultimately took their positions as necessary, gathering roughly around the three agents who’d called them there that afternoon, at which point Rubert double-checked his phone for something, before frowning and putting it away as he began to speak, more exuberant than he felt.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the zeroth day of… let’s call it a job within a job, shall we? You see, my fellow agents and I have had an idea. You all want to reach the top, do you not? Rhetorical question, of course you do. The upper echelons are where the money’s at, after all, moreso the number one position than any other, and that’s true no matter what your business is - assassination, corporate work, military, whatever.
‘And yet what some people don’t realise is that humans evolved to cooperate. They try to get up there on their own, taking all the weight without considering the benefits of allies, especially assassins. But you know what benefits you folks would get out of working together? Take a guess. Go on, take a guess-’
‘Money.’
‘...thanks, Person,’ Rutabaga deadpanned, his mildly drunken annoyance back to its former level after a brief inhalation. ‘But yes, money. Turns out, if the top few spots in the United Assassins Association actually unite their earnings, from odd jobs and rank defense and so on, they can actually earn more money per person than they would even if they simply held the number 1 rank. I know, I found it unbelievable too when I figured it out - but the math fits. Agent Person, you’re up.’
‘What doesn’t fit, more frequently than not, are the personalities of the assassins,’ Mister Person continued dryly, pointing at the assassins gathered round him. ‘You guys don’t like playing nice with one another. We even have examples present - The Heretic, right now, and Omnivore, just a moment ago. Left to your own devices, you’d probably all tear each other to shreds before getting anywhere near the top fifty, let alone-’
He was interrupted by the door being kicked open again, this time by a rather angry man in ragged gear with a beam katana already drawn and blazing, his other hand immediately pointing in the general direction of the entire group and screaming ‘KILLSTEALEEEER!!!’ at the top of his lungs. He proceeded to ignore everyone else as he stamped over toward the Killstealer in question, and held his weapon up against the agent’s throat, the hand holding the sword visibly juddering.
To his credit, Zzyxx didn’t lose his cool as he replied. ‘It’s pronounced “Zzyxx von Killstealr”,’ he insisted. Mister Person simply stared through his box at the newcomer, whilst Rutabaga barely held himself back from having an apoplectic fit, perhaps with the notion of Zzyxx’s over-timely death in mind to help.
‘I don’t care how it’s said! I care about what you did!’ the man ranted, angrily waving the weapon around without care for where it went. ‘My brother, a man whose life would have been spared… and then YOU come in and end him where it isn’t warranted, you BASTARD!’
‘Live by the sword... die by the sword,’ Zzyxx quipped, flicking his hair again, then unsubtly leaning back from the beam katana to grab the headgear off the floor again. ‘Mine, if not his foe’s... or, mine anyway. I take my dues, much like the Grim Reaper... you never know when I shall-‘
‘Okay, no, shut up, shut up!’ the guy raved, seeming rather unhappy with the direction the edgelord was taking. ‘You’re a fucking fool, do you know that?! What, do you think you’re DEATH now or something, in your stupid coat and dumb hat? Oh, well aren’t yuuurck.’
It wasn’t quite clear what had happened to make the man’s neck suddenly spray blood over the bar, and his head to come away from his shoulders. At best, the keener-eyed assassins might have seen a slight flicker of light, and maybe a hint of motion from Zzyxx’s arm, before he turned to his fellow agents and giving what he surely believed to be a cool smirk.
‘I guess that’s what happens when you… lose your head oh shit,’ he uttered, his hat now falling into a puddle of his would-be opponent’s lifeblood. As he picked the item up for the umpteenth time, he made to swipe the blood off, thought for a second, then evil eyed everyone around as he stood and placed the cap back atop his scalp. Apparently, having someone else’s blood dripping into your hair and down your face was a price he was willing to pay to try to look like a badass, even if to everyone else, he just looked like a lunatic.
‘...moving on,’ Mister Person sighed quietly, ‘as you can see, assassins dislike working with others. That’s what we’re here for: we’ve gotten special permission to shift you fellows up the ranks a little, just in order to practically test our theory. In exchange, we will be performing the murderous equivalent of herding cats. Not all of you at once, though, no no no. You’ll be split into teams of three: Heretic, Kraken, Chroma, you'll all be working together under Agent Zzyxx, as will The Savile Fist, Omnivore, and Whiteout under myself. Maiden of Bones, Silver Prowler... you ought to be in a team together under Agent Rutabaga, and in fairness, we might have somebody else showing up late; if they don’t show, we’ll figure something out.’
‘I assume you will know what to do from there,’ Zzyxx promptly butted in, for some bizarre reason contorting himself in a practically ballerina-ish fashion as he spoke. ‘Then again, if you need… help with your jobs, I would be most gracious as to offer my services in training you... for a certain price.’
‘We’re all willing to help you folks out,’ Rutabaga confirmed. ‘If you will, consider me a strength trainer: harder, better, stronger, that’s this Rutabaga’s goal for those of you looking to boost yourselves. Zzyxx, admittedly, is not entirely incompetent-’
‘I have never been incompetent shut up.’
‘-and he’ll be focusing on speed, and… shall we say weaponplay? Sure, let’s go with that… and Agent Person will be covering more general combat skills, martial arts, and the like. Maybe stealth, I don’t know. All, of course, for a price - but I think you’ll all appreciate the assistance.’
With all of that said, Agent Rutabaga finally leaned back on his stool and took another sip of apple juice. ‘Any questions before we go, boys and girls?’
