Narrator:
A room. A bed. A man. So simple, yet nothing as it seems on the surface. One must dig, tear away the skin to find the truth, the reason. Especially in this world where men and women dance and drink merrily in rooms made of glass and steel, high above the streets where their own kind struggle, fight and crawl for survival. And here, our story begins.
Darkness behind the man's eyes slowly left, seeped away, giving place for light. Too bright it was, as was this whole room. It would hurt eyes of even those used to such exposure. There was only white and silver here, even the lines of metal going over the ankles and wrists of the man. They did not grip him tightly, not enough to harm him, but they were firm. And the machines, the many machines were also white and silver, except for their screens on which many lines and numbers ran. The screens matched the man more, his dark hair, so different from this room.
As he woke, the machines began to beep like some virus had driven them mad. And with matching crazy haste, men and women came rushing into the white, soft room - the walls, the floors, even the ceiling were covered with some soft, maybe even bouncy material. The scientists - as one could assume from their lab coats and white hats that covered hair, stood in a circle around the bed, just one of them came closer, standing to the right side of the bed, his blue eyes looking over the sleeping body, stopping at each metal band, wire and node attached to it.
When the man's eyes opened, few gasped, and although they received glares, it was apparent everyone present was overwhelmed with some emotions. There was a short silence, and then the scientist who seemed to be in lead, coughed softly.
"You are safe, Mr. Emmerich. Do not be afraid. The restrains are for your own safety and will be removed in a moment."
Raphael Emmerich:
Well... the last thing he remembered was a training program. After adapting LAI's old coding, he hadn't used it nearly as much as he should. His street experience was training enough. But once Ragnarok ended, and the Wendigo was stopped--he retired to being the old chief of some sloppy version of the superfriends. He was due for training. Sure, he'd retired to domestic life but he always had a fighting spirit. His eyes cracked open and squinted. It looked eerily like the ceiling of Sheol I, his first base. "Jess...?" he groggily called for his personal Alfred, to no avail. Had some accident happened? He tried to sit up and was... Cuffed. Tug. They were surrounding him, none familiar. There was a moment of panic, quickly turned anger. "Sonofabitch, Lode, if you're still alive--" and responsible for this, his tone infered some sort of threat. His body state... Probably wasn't as trained as he had been after a lifetime of roughnecking and training, so... His attempt to pop the cuff by resistance, power of mind or not, was unsuccessful. "What the fuck is this?" despite Elsie's nagging, he never had quite gotten a handle on his tongue. It made a valid vacation fund out of the swear jar. He paused, realizing just how foreign the surroundings were. "I finally cracked, didn't I?" well... It was a padded room.
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok:
"No, no, quite the opposite, Mr. Emmerich," the doctor hurriedly assured him, putting on the best kind smile he could muster.
"You... seem perfectly healthy."
It sounded like this thought immensely pleased the man.
"It is completely understandable that you are confused, so, we shall leave you to freshen up," he motioned to one of the walls, where without sound doors opened up.
"There you will find clothes and other necessities. When you are ready, you will be guided to my office, where we can discuss everything in more..."
He paused, looking for the right word, "pleasant atmosphere."
The scientists hurriedly left, some nervously glancing back at him, and as soon as everyone was gone, the nodes, wires and even the restrains retreated away from the man, freeing him to do what he pleased.
On the other side of doors to corridor, a young woman stood. She watched as the scientists fled, a smirk playing in the corners of her mouth. They all greeted her silently, with a nod of head, but seemed to not want to linger in her company. And it was understandable. There was something about her, something strange, that made it seem as if she both belonged here, and stood out like a sore thumb. A little like faint smell and feel of death in hospitals - unwelcomed, unaccepted, yet unavoidable and somehow fitting.
She was similar to the machines in the white room, white - in hair and skin -, but her eyes and clothes under the white labcoat were dark. And just as seemingly mechanical, emotionless was her expression, smirk fading when the scientists disappeared from the sight.
She waited for the man to emerge from the room, their new lab rat she would spend her time with from now. But not for long, surely. Either he would go mad, like the one before him, or soon be unnecessary.
Raphael Emmerich:
He snorted. Damn straight. "Wait, clothes?" he looked down and noticed he was bare. "WHO UNDRESSED ME?" but... He probably wasn't getting an answer. The cords retracted and the clamps freed him. He flexed his wrists one at a time while gripping them. His legs swung over the side of the bed and he immediately searched out his clothing, grabbing them angrilly and muttering. Someone was gonna be punched when he figured out what was going on. What kind of clothes were they, even? For now, anything would do.
He stepped out, eventually, towards the open door and naturally gravitated his eyes to the woman, brow furrowing. "Hey." he was confused as to what to even say. He decided to cut to the chase. "What's going on? How long have I been out?" simultaneously he rubbed a hand over his face. His level of shaving would have told him, normally. He noticed his hands, smooth, and blinked. "...Why do I have girly hands?" well, considering he hasn't worked a day in his life...
Leila Ragnarok:
The young woman looked him up and down in silence, but it was hard to see what was the outcome of this judging stare. Now clad in simple shirt and pants of light blue fabrics, something that was typical wear in this world for higher class hospitals, he looked... normal. In her opinion, still not nowhere as impressive as the scientists had pictured him. But that was to be expected.
His questions, she did not answer directly, just shrugged. "Come. Doc Know-it-all will clear it up for you." Without waiting, Leila turned around and headed down the corridor. After short walk, she opened large wooden doors, without knocking on them.
"Oh, there you are, so nice, so nice," the doctor stood up and smiled. "Come in, make your self comfortable. My name is Magnus Johnson and it's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr Emmerich. Or would you prefer being called Wraith Beknight?"
Raphael Emmerich:
Stared at, he looked nervous. "Take a picture, it lasts longer." He hated feeling like a lemming, following along absently. He didn't have much choice, even if he passively let his eyes inspect the structure. Were there other doors, windows, cameras? He felt entirely uncomfortable... and somewhat winded, considering young neo was using his legs for probably the first time. What had HAPPENED?
The doors opened, and the greeting somehow made his skin prickle, even before the question. "Tch. Just because Rafe sounds like Wraith doesn't mean I'm a maniac running around in spandex. What kind of idiot would pick a codename like that? I'm a repair-man. Emmerich Repairs." apparently, he picked Emmerich. Of course he hadn't picked his own code name... And he ran around in compressed metal, not spandex. He figured it sounded dismissive enough, though. "Care to tell me why I feel like a ninny-boy, or why I was naked? ...where's my cell phone?" If it even still had signal. He still wasn't aware of his situation.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sat down in one of the large leather chairs. Although her posture was relaxed, she was alert of every move made in the room - and outside. Her eyes shifted to one of the upper corners, knowing that coin-sized window hid a camera. It would record everything, just like her memory.
Her attention then turned back to the man. She smirked mentally, at the way he spoke, of him and things around him. His oblivious ways were... amusing.
"Please, sit down, Mr. Emmerich. What I am about to tell you, could be quite shocking." The scientist retreated to the chair behind the table, seemingly feeling much more at ease there. The "newborn" man clearly made him nervous. And Leila didn't blame him, recalling the few previous 'versions' of this experiment.
"Mr. Emmerich, as you might know, all information regarding your physical and mental state was copied by Leviathan arms corporation. Not only that - it was saved in a form that could be used to recreate you, exactly you, not a body void of memories and experiences, as you were when the copying occurred."
The scientist, clasped his hands together and smiled - all too widely for it to seem sincere -: "you, right now, are the result of such recreation, Mr. Emmerich. Today is August 25th of year 2289, your body reflects you at age 27 - without any training of course -, and was created about half a year ago. Congratulations, Mr. Emmerich! Today is your new birthday!"
Leila nearly snorted, her mouth corners pulling upwards, in a darkly amused smile. Doc Know-it-all had the most absurd way of announcing life and mind shattering facts. If it was her, in "Mr. Emmerich's" position, she would strangle him right then and there. But then again, HE was the fool who had given a permission of recreating him self. No one would ever mess with HER mind or body. And stay alive, that is.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Jon... Did... WHAT?" apparently it wasn't permission as much as coincidence. Until spending a few years with Jessie, Rafe had trouble making the DVD player work. Even if his mental state was a slightly later recording, it... was hard to even try to adjust. 2200something. ...Yeah, right. "You're either insane... Or Lode's finally getting me." he rubbed his eyes wearily. "I'll settle with insane. Where's a phone? ...Give me a PHONE." he looked for something recognizeable. His eyes flitted to the camera the woman's eyes had told him about. Past experiments being trouble was no surprise. He was a Leo through and through, and in this moment he had released his mental control to confusion and anger. One can only imagine how an imperfect copy would react. His hands, smooth... His body, tired, but he still could not so easily believe what they said. "I want to call my wife."
Leila Ragnarok:
He was as shocked as expected. More than the previous one. But then again, that one had broken down after few hours, went hysterical and Leila had to... expose of it. She had dealt with her share of mentally ill and insane, but that had been disturbing experience. One moment, talking, telling about past - his wife, children (seemed like there were many of those) -, then began crying and tried to strangle her, screaming, "give me back my life!"
'I think death came as relief, ending his suffering," the woman thought, eyes following closely each Raphael's movement. It reminded Leila of her self, when she was just a child, torn away from home, right after her family was murdered. What wouldn't she give to be with them, then...
Magnus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but not because of guilt or compassion, more like afraid the new masterpiece could go crazy and attack him. "No, Mr. Emmerich you are not insane. But if trying to dial would give you some peace..." He slid small device over the table, but in the wrong direction, and Leila leaned forward to catch it, before it crashed to ground and then handed it to the young man.
He was only going to hurt him self this way, and even this probably wouldn't assure him. Maybe she should later take him to his old house... Test of his new mental stability.
Raphael Emmerich:
"I don't think it's me. I think you're cracked." nuts. Insane. He snapped out a hand to also intercept the phone with quick neural reflex, but not the muscular accuracy, catching it by the lip of the desk. Her hand had been necessary, which made his eyebrows and jaw tense. One dial brought up a generic message about an incorrect number. He looked concerned but... "Area code." he murmered. He had no idea where he really was! He dialed again, and got a ringing. There was a click as it picked up. "Elsie!" a man's voice was confused, mishearing and asking who it was. "...get out of my house, Brian. Where's Els?" of course... there was no Elsie there, nor was the man Brian. He listened to the man asking who he was in silence until the other end hung up, and listened to the dial tone for a few minutes before hanging up, himself. "This has to be a joke." he looked more hollow than vibrant, looking down at his wrist. It lacked the girth of a lifetime of grit and gristle. Hopefully they could deal with a minute of silence as he looked up. "Okay. Let's pretend I believe any of this. What makes YOU resurrect ME? There has to be... Someone more fitting. Einstein, or a president. Not a repair-man." well, most of those didn't have their brains uploaded in training programs. They had called him Wraith, but... Well, if it was true--which he still resisted--he had no family or friends to even worry about protecting. Vigilantes rarely had successful families.
Leila Ragnarok:
The doctor was quiet, as if afraid that if he said anything, Raphael could jump over table and break his neck. So, Leila shrugged mentally and looked to Raphael.
"It's simple. You are only one who has been copied so. They wanted to see if it actually works. Immortality, right at their fingertips, in shape of you."
Magnus glared at her, she had said too much most likely, but Leila couldn't care less. While mental tormenting could be extremely fun, sometimes it was unneeded. And knowing you're just a pawn in some power hungry shark games could be just as tormenting.
The scientist coughed. "Consider this as another chance at life. If all goes well, and it should, you will live a long, healthy life. Our corporation will offer you a good job, home, education, training." His smile was nearly pleading.
Leila rolled her eyes in her mind. 'You only will be watched nearly every minute of your life and you could break apart any moment, too," the woman mentally finished.
Raphael Emmerich:
"This is... stupid." of his many gifts, vocabulary was not one of them. He stood, then sat, chewed on a thumbnail and cracked his knuckles all within a few seconds. "So let me get this straight. You," he pointed at the nutty doctor, then back at himself, "are interested in me, because you think I'm immortal, but I had to be brought back to life." well, his form of immortality was... Different. He had aged, albeit well due to his late lifestyle. He had even lived to 98. He just... Hadn't had a recording of himself near that late. He was still in half disbelief, not willing to crack over his identity. It was the Wraith that could be killed without dying--another state of mind he entered entirely, and far from where he was right now: out of any state of control and... Lost. "I'm going to wake up and find out I fell asleep in my machine." he rubbed his face with both hands but was still... there, in the office. "I have a home. I've worked on it for twelve years. I have a business. We just went international.
"Okay... that makes it sound bigger than it is, but... My son's in college, I'm out. You can't give me what I already have." well... At least his voice was calm, almost dead-pan. Who knew what state his home was in now, regardless of how solid he built it... Unless his children had inherited it and taken care of it. Who knew about the apartments he rented. Those were always a little slummy. But he was still convinced this was either the past or a bad dream.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sighed softly, it was barely audible. This man was slow. Not that his previous version hadn't proven it, but... Well, she couldn't really fault him too much. He was a guy, for one thing, and it was something hard to comprehend.
Magnus was again fidgeting, and shooting glances at Leila, but she could be hardly bothered by them. The one who was in true control of her, had given her rights to finish this Doc Know-it-all, if needed. And, Leila was master of finding reasons.
"If this technology works, they can find to copy anyone and recreate him at any time. As many times as they want to. That's your immortality's point." Leila paused and brushed strand of hair outside her face, tucking it behind ear, revealing large earring, portraying some animal - maybe bat - in symbolic form.
"And all you're talking about... does not exist anymore. Maybe you could meet up with your great,-great-great-great-grand children or something. If they exist. I am sure Mr.... Johnson has researched that."
Raphael Emmerich:
"Find them." he demanded, eyeing the doctor, who he supposed was Johnson, for right or wrong. "I have nine kids. You can't tell me I don't have any living relatives." actually... He had closer to 20, just not at the time of his print. Not only had his wife wanted a prolific number of children, she had been an orphanage worker of the best breed. A former foster child himself, it was part of what made him fall for her. The two raised almost a few generations of children in their time, each supplied with a formidable college fund. The old house expanded from 5 to 8 bedrooms with time, older children rotating as caretakers and support in a matriarchal society all its own. But... Well, his eyes burned right then. He wasn't a crying man, but could he be blamed? "I need to see my old house. My basement. Take me to my house." His basement had been his lair, wrought of steel and running on generators, air filters and well sealed. If anything would survive time, that was it. "If any of my kids sold that house I'ma have you raise them just so I can knock the taste out of their mouth, myself." ... a little oldschool, this one. But despite the rough edges, perhaps his history spoke of his work.
Leila Ragnarok:
"I... I will, Mr. Emmerich," the man seemed shaken and ran hand over his thin hair, that began to retreat not only on the corners of his forehead, but also in middle of his head. "It might take me a day or two, though."
Leila's expression changed for a second, clearly portraying one word: "liar". But it was never voiced. With that, the scientist seemed to remember about her more clearly. "Oh, this young lady here will be your guide in this new world. A partner, if you will. Her name is Leila Ragnarok." He smiled, sweat beading on forehead. The woman wondered, from whom he was more afraid - her or Raphael.
"Let's get going," she stood up and without any good byes, any polite gestures left the room.
A room. A bed. A man. So simple, yet nothing as it seems on the surface. One must dig, tear away the skin to find the truth, the reason. Especially in this world where men and women dance and drink merrily in rooms made of glass and steel, high above the streets where their own kind struggle, fight and crawl for survival. And here, our story begins.
Darkness behind the man's eyes slowly left, seeped away, giving place for light. Too bright it was, as was this whole room. It would hurt eyes of even those used to such exposure. There was only white and silver here, even the lines of metal going over the ankles and wrists of the man. They did not grip him tightly, not enough to harm him, but they were firm. And the machines, the many machines were also white and silver, except for their screens on which many lines and numbers ran. The screens matched the man more, his dark hair, so different from this room.
As he woke, the machines began to beep like some virus had driven them mad. And with matching crazy haste, men and women came rushing into the white, soft room - the walls, the floors, even the ceiling were covered with some soft, maybe even bouncy material. The scientists - as one could assume from their lab coats and white hats that covered hair, stood in a circle around the bed, just one of them came closer, standing to the right side of the bed, his blue eyes looking over the sleeping body, stopping at each metal band, wire and node attached to it.
When the man's eyes opened, few gasped, and although they received glares, it was apparent everyone present was overwhelmed with some emotions. There was a short silence, and then the scientist who seemed to be in lead, coughed softly.
"You are safe, Mr. Emmerich. Do not be afraid. The restrains are for your own safety and will be removed in a moment."
Raphael Emmerich:
Well... the last thing he remembered was a training program. After adapting LAI's old coding, he hadn't used it nearly as much as he should. His street experience was training enough. But once Ragnarok ended, and the Wendigo was stopped--he retired to being the old chief of some sloppy version of the superfriends. He was due for training. Sure, he'd retired to domestic life but he always had a fighting spirit. His eyes cracked open and squinted. It looked eerily like the ceiling of Sheol I, his first base. "Jess...?" he groggily called for his personal Alfred, to no avail. Had some accident happened? He tried to sit up and was... Cuffed. Tug. They were surrounding him, none familiar. There was a moment of panic, quickly turned anger. "Sonofabitch, Lode, if you're still alive--" and responsible for this, his tone infered some sort of threat. His body state... Probably wasn't as trained as he had been after a lifetime of roughnecking and training, so... His attempt to pop the cuff by resistance, power of mind or not, was unsuccessful. "What the fuck is this?" despite Elsie's nagging, he never had quite gotten a handle on his tongue. It made a valid vacation fund out of the swear jar. He paused, realizing just how foreign the surroundings were. "I finally cracked, didn't I?" well... It was a padded room.
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok:
"No, no, quite the opposite, Mr. Emmerich," the doctor hurriedly assured him, putting on the best kind smile he could muster.
"You... seem perfectly healthy."
It sounded like this thought immensely pleased the man.
"It is completely understandable that you are confused, so, we shall leave you to freshen up," he motioned to one of the walls, where without sound doors opened up.
"There you will find clothes and other necessities. When you are ready, you will be guided to my office, where we can discuss everything in more..."
He paused, looking for the right word, "pleasant atmosphere."
The scientists hurriedly left, some nervously glancing back at him, and as soon as everyone was gone, the nodes, wires and even the restrains retreated away from the man, freeing him to do what he pleased.
On the other side of doors to corridor, a young woman stood. She watched as the scientists fled, a smirk playing in the corners of her mouth. They all greeted her silently, with a nod of head, but seemed to not want to linger in her company. And it was understandable. There was something about her, something strange, that made it seem as if she both belonged here, and stood out like a sore thumb. A little like faint smell and feel of death in hospitals - unwelcomed, unaccepted, yet unavoidable and somehow fitting.
She was similar to the machines in the white room, white - in hair and skin -, but her eyes and clothes under the white labcoat were dark. And just as seemingly mechanical, emotionless was her expression, smirk fading when the scientists disappeared from the sight.
She waited for the man to emerge from the room, their new lab rat she would spend her time with from now. But not for long, surely. Either he would go mad, like the one before him, or soon be unnecessary.
Raphael Emmerich:
He snorted. Damn straight. "Wait, clothes?" he looked down and noticed he was bare. "WHO UNDRESSED ME?" but... He probably wasn't getting an answer. The cords retracted and the clamps freed him. He flexed his wrists one at a time while gripping them. His legs swung over the side of the bed and he immediately searched out his clothing, grabbing them angrilly and muttering. Someone was gonna be punched when he figured out what was going on. What kind of clothes were they, even? For now, anything would do.
He stepped out, eventually, towards the open door and naturally gravitated his eyes to the woman, brow furrowing. "Hey." he was confused as to what to even say. He decided to cut to the chase. "What's going on? How long have I been out?" simultaneously he rubbed a hand over his face. His level of shaving would have told him, normally. He noticed his hands, smooth, and blinked. "...Why do I have girly hands?" well, considering he hasn't worked a day in his life...
Leila Ragnarok:
The young woman looked him up and down in silence, but it was hard to see what was the outcome of this judging stare. Now clad in simple shirt and pants of light blue fabrics, something that was typical wear in this world for higher class hospitals, he looked... normal. In her opinion, still not nowhere as impressive as the scientists had pictured him. But that was to be expected.
His questions, she did not answer directly, just shrugged. "Come. Doc Know-it-all will clear it up for you." Without waiting, Leila turned around and headed down the corridor. After short walk, she opened large wooden doors, without knocking on them.
"Oh, there you are, so nice, so nice," the doctor stood up and smiled. "Come in, make your self comfortable. My name is Magnus Johnson and it's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr Emmerich. Or would you prefer being called Wraith Beknight?"
Raphael Emmerich:
Stared at, he looked nervous. "Take a picture, it lasts longer." He hated feeling like a lemming, following along absently. He didn't have much choice, even if he passively let his eyes inspect the structure. Were there other doors, windows, cameras? He felt entirely uncomfortable... and somewhat winded, considering young neo was using his legs for probably the first time. What had HAPPENED?
The doors opened, and the greeting somehow made his skin prickle, even before the question. "Tch. Just because Rafe sounds like Wraith doesn't mean I'm a maniac running around in spandex. What kind of idiot would pick a codename like that? I'm a repair-man. Emmerich Repairs." apparently, he picked Emmerich. Of course he hadn't picked his own code name... And he ran around in compressed metal, not spandex. He figured it sounded dismissive enough, though. "Care to tell me why I feel like a ninny-boy, or why I was naked? ...where's my cell phone?" If it even still had signal. He still wasn't aware of his situation.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sat down in one of the large leather chairs. Although her posture was relaxed, she was alert of every move made in the room - and outside. Her eyes shifted to one of the upper corners, knowing that coin-sized window hid a camera. It would record everything, just like her memory.
Her attention then turned back to the man. She smirked mentally, at the way he spoke, of him and things around him. His oblivious ways were... amusing.
"Please, sit down, Mr. Emmerich. What I am about to tell you, could be quite shocking." The scientist retreated to the chair behind the table, seemingly feeling much more at ease there. The "newborn" man clearly made him nervous. And Leila didn't blame him, recalling the few previous 'versions' of this experiment.
"Mr. Emmerich, as you might know, all information regarding your physical and mental state was copied by Leviathan arms corporation. Not only that - it was saved in a form that could be used to recreate you, exactly you, not a body void of memories and experiences, as you were when the copying occurred."
The scientist, clasped his hands together and smiled - all too widely for it to seem sincere -: "you, right now, are the result of such recreation, Mr. Emmerich. Today is August 25th of year 2289, your body reflects you at age 27 - without any training of course -, and was created about half a year ago. Congratulations, Mr. Emmerich! Today is your new birthday!"
Leila nearly snorted, her mouth corners pulling upwards, in a darkly amused smile. Doc Know-it-all had the most absurd way of announcing life and mind shattering facts. If it was her, in "Mr. Emmerich's" position, she would strangle him right then and there. But then again, HE was the fool who had given a permission of recreating him self. No one would ever mess with HER mind or body. And stay alive, that is.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Jon... Did... WHAT?" apparently it wasn't permission as much as coincidence. Until spending a few years with Jessie, Rafe had trouble making the DVD player work. Even if his mental state was a slightly later recording, it... was hard to even try to adjust. 2200something. ...Yeah, right. "You're either insane... Or Lode's finally getting me." he rubbed his eyes wearily. "I'll settle with insane. Where's a phone? ...Give me a PHONE." he looked for something recognizeable. His eyes flitted to the camera the woman's eyes had told him about. Past experiments being trouble was no surprise. He was a Leo through and through, and in this moment he had released his mental control to confusion and anger. One can only imagine how an imperfect copy would react. His hands, smooth... His body, tired, but he still could not so easily believe what they said. "I want to call my wife."
Leila Ragnarok:
He was as shocked as expected. More than the previous one. But then again, that one had broken down after few hours, went hysterical and Leila had to... expose of it. She had dealt with her share of mentally ill and insane, but that had been disturbing experience. One moment, talking, telling about past - his wife, children (seemed like there were many of those) -, then began crying and tried to strangle her, screaming, "give me back my life!"
'I think death came as relief, ending his suffering," the woman thought, eyes following closely each Raphael's movement. It reminded Leila of her self, when she was just a child, torn away from home, right after her family was murdered. What wouldn't she give to be with them, then...
Magnus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but not because of guilt or compassion, more like afraid the new masterpiece could go crazy and attack him. "No, Mr. Emmerich you are not insane. But if trying to dial would give you some peace..." He slid small device over the table, but in the wrong direction, and Leila leaned forward to catch it, before it crashed to ground and then handed it to the young man.
He was only going to hurt him self this way, and even this probably wouldn't assure him. Maybe she should later take him to his old house... Test of his new mental stability.
Raphael Emmerich:
"I don't think it's me. I think you're cracked." nuts. Insane. He snapped out a hand to also intercept the phone with quick neural reflex, but not the muscular accuracy, catching it by the lip of the desk. Her hand had been necessary, which made his eyebrows and jaw tense. One dial brought up a generic message about an incorrect number. He looked concerned but... "Area code." he murmered. He had no idea where he really was! He dialed again, and got a ringing. There was a click as it picked up. "Elsie!" a man's voice was confused, mishearing and asking who it was. "...get out of my house, Brian. Where's Els?" of course... there was no Elsie there, nor was the man Brian. He listened to the man asking who he was in silence until the other end hung up, and listened to the dial tone for a few minutes before hanging up, himself. "This has to be a joke." he looked more hollow than vibrant, looking down at his wrist. It lacked the girth of a lifetime of grit and gristle. Hopefully they could deal with a minute of silence as he looked up. "Okay. Let's pretend I believe any of this. What makes YOU resurrect ME? There has to be... Someone more fitting. Einstein, or a president. Not a repair-man." well, most of those didn't have their brains uploaded in training programs. They had called him Wraith, but... Well, if it was true--which he still resisted--he had no family or friends to even worry about protecting. Vigilantes rarely had successful families.
Leila Ragnarok:
The doctor was quiet, as if afraid that if he said anything, Raphael could jump over table and break his neck. So, Leila shrugged mentally and looked to Raphael.
"It's simple. You are only one who has been copied so. They wanted to see if it actually works. Immortality, right at their fingertips, in shape of you."
Magnus glared at her, she had said too much most likely, but Leila couldn't care less. While mental tormenting could be extremely fun, sometimes it was unneeded. And knowing you're just a pawn in some power hungry shark games could be just as tormenting.
The scientist coughed. "Consider this as another chance at life. If all goes well, and it should, you will live a long, healthy life. Our corporation will offer you a good job, home, education, training." His smile was nearly pleading.
Leila rolled her eyes in her mind. 'You only will be watched nearly every minute of your life and you could break apart any moment, too," the woman mentally finished.
Raphael Emmerich:
"This is... stupid." of his many gifts, vocabulary was not one of them. He stood, then sat, chewed on a thumbnail and cracked his knuckles all within a few seconds. "So let me get this straight. You," he pointed at the nutty doctor, then back at himself, "are interested in me, because you think I'm immortal, but I had to be brought back to life." well, his form of immortality was... Different. He had aged, albeit well due to his late lifestyle. He had even lived to 98. He just... Hadn't had a recording of himself near that late. He was still in half disbelief, not willing to crack over his identity. It was the Wraith that could be killed without dying--another state of mind he entered entirely, and far from where he was right now: out of any state of control and... Lost. "I'm going to wake up and find out I fell asleep in my machine." he rubbed his face with both hands but was still... there, in the office. "I have a home. I've worked on it for twelve years. I have a business. We just went international.
"Okay... that makes it sound bigger than it is, but... My son's in college, I'm out. You can't give me what I already have." well... At least his voice was calm, almost dead-pan. Who knew what state his home was in now, regardless of how solid he built it... Unless his children had inherited it and taken care of it. Who knew about the apartments he rented. Those were always a little slummy. But he was still convinced this was either the past or a bad dream.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sighed softly, it was barely audible. This man was slow. Not that his previous version hadn't proven it, but... Well, she couldn't really fault him too much. He was a guy, for one thing, and it was something hard to comprehend.
Magnus was again fidgeting, and shooting glances at Leila, but she could be hardly bothered by them. The one who was in true control of her, had given her rights to finish this Doc Know-it-all, if needed. And, Leila was master of finding reasons.
"If this technology works, they can find to copy anyone and recreate him at any time. As many times as they want to. That's your immortality's point." Leila paused and brushed strand of hair outside her face, tucking it behind ear, revealing large earring, portraying some animal - maybe bat - in symbolic form.
"And all you're talking about... does not exist anymore. Maybe you could meet up with your great,-great-great-great-grand children or something. If they exist. I am sure Mr.... Johnson has researched that."
Raphael Emmerich:
"Find them." he demanded, eyeing the doctor, who he supposed was Johnson, for right or wrong. "I have nine kids. You can't tell me I don't have any living relatives." actually... He had closer to 20, just not at the time of his print. Not only had his wife wanted a prolific number of children, she had been an orphanage worker of the best breed. A former foster child himself, it was part of what made him fall for her. The two raised almost a few generations of children in their time, each supplied with a formidable college fund. The old house expanded from 5 to 8 bedrooms with time, older children rotating as caretakers and support in a matriarchal society all its own. But... Well, his eyes burned right then. He wasn't a crying man, but could he be blamed? "I need to see my old house. My basement. Take me to my house." His basement had been his lair, wrought of steel and running on generators, air filters and well sealed. If anything would survive time, that was it. "If any of my kids sold that house I'ma have you raise them just so I can knock the taste out of their mouth, myself." ... a little oldschool, this one. But despite the rough edges, perhaps his history spoke of his work.
Leila Ragnarok:
"I... I will, Mr. Emmerich," the man seemed shaken and ran hand over his thin hair, that began to retreat not only on the corners of his forehead, but also in middle of his head. "It might take me a day or two, though."
Leila's expression changed for a second, clearly portraying one word: "liar". But it was never voiced. With that, the scientist seemed to remember about her more clearly. "Oh, this young lady here will be your guide in this new world. A partner, if you will. Her name is Leila Ragnarok." He smiled, sweat beading on forehead. The woman wondered, from whom he was more afraid - her or Raphael.
"Let's get going," she stood up and without any good byes, any polite gestures left the room.
Narrator:
A room. A bed. A man. So simple, yet nothing as it seems on the surface. One must dig, tear away the skin to find the truth, the reason. Especially in this world where men and women dance and drink merrily in rooms made of glass and steel, high above the streets where their own kind struggle, fight and crawl for survival. And here, our story begins.
Darkness behind the man's eyes slowly left, seeped away, giving place for light. Too bright it was, as was this whole room. It would hurt eyes of even those used to such exposure. There was only white and silver here, even the lines of metal going over the ankles and wrists of the man. They did not grip him tightly, not enough to harm him, but they were firm. And the machines, the many machines were also white and silver, except for their screens on which many lines and numbers ran. The screens matched the man more, his dark hair, so different from this room.
As he woke, the machines began to beep like some virus had driven them mad. And with matching crazy haste, men and women came rushing into the white, soft room - the walls, the floors, even the ceiling were covered with some soft, maybe even bouncy material. The scientists - as one could assume from their lab coats and white hats that covered hair, stood in a circle around the bed, just one of them came closer, standing to the right side of the bed, his blue eyes looking over the sleeping body, stopping at each metal band, wire and node attached to it.
When the man's eyes opened, few gasped, and although they received glares, it was apparent everyone present was overwhelmed with some emotions. There was a short silence, and then the scientist who seemed to be in lead, coughed softly.
"You are safe, Mr. Emmerich. Do not be afraid. The restrains are for your own safety and will be removed in a moment."
Raphael Emmerich:
Well... the last thing he remembered was a training program. After adapting LAI's old coding, he hadn't used it nearly as much as he should. His street experience was training enough. But once Ragnarok ended, and the Wendigo was stopped--he retired to being the old chief of some sloppy version of the superfriends. He was due for training. Sure, he'd retired to domestic life but he always had a fighting spirit. His eyes cracked open and squinted. It looked eerily like the ceiling of Sheol I, his first base. "Jess...?" he groggily called for his personal Alfred, to no avail. Had some accident happened? He tried to sit up and was... Cuffed. Tug. They were surrounding him, none familiar. There was a moment of panic, quickly turned anger. "Sonofabitch, Lode, if you're still alive--" and responsible for this, his tone infered some sort of threat. His body state... Probably wasn't as trained as he had been after a lifetime of roughnecking and training, so... His attempt to pop the cuff by resistance, power of mind or not, was unsuccessful. "What the fuck is this?" despite Elsie's nagging, he never had quite gotten a handle on his tongue. It made a valid vacation fund out of the swear jar. He paused, realizing just how foreign the surroundings were. "I finally cracked, didn't I?" well... It was a padded room.
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok:
"No, no, quite the opposite, Mr. Emmerich," the doctor hurriedly assured him, putting on the best kind smile he could muster.
"You... seem perfectly healthy."
It sounded like this thought immensely pleased the man.
"It is completely understandable that you are confused, so, we shall leave you to freshen up," he motioned to one of the walls, where without sound doors opened up.
"There you will find clothes and other necessities. When you are ready, you will be guided to my office, where we can discuss everything in more..."
He paused, looking for the right word, "pleasant atmosphere."
The scientists hurriedly left, some nervously glancing back at him, and as soon as everyone was gone, the nodes, wires and even the restrains retreated away from the man, freeing him to do what he pleased.
On the other side of doors to corridor, a young woman stood. She watched as the scientists fled, a smirk playing in the corners of her mouth. They all greeted her silently, with a nod of head, but seemed to not want to linger in her company. And it was understandable. There was something about her, something strange, that made it seem as if she both belonged here, and stood out like a sore thumb. A little like faint smell and feel of death in hospitals - unwelcomed, unaccepted, yet unavoidable and somehow fitting.
She was similar to the machines in the white room, white - in hair and skin -, but her eyes and clothes under the white labcoat were dark. And just as seemingly mechanical, emotionless was her expression, smirk fading when the scientists disappeared from the sight.
She waited for the man to emerge from the room, their new lab rat she would spend her time with from now. But not for long, surely. Either he would go mad, like the one before him, or soon be unnecessary.
Raphael Emmerich:
He snorted. Damn straight. "Wait, clothes?" he looked down and noticed he was bare. "WHO UNDRESSED ME?" but... He probably wasn't getting an answer. The cords retracted and the clamps freed him. He flexed his wrists one at a time while gripping them. His legs swung over the side of the bed and he immediately searched out his clothing, grabbing them angrilly and muttering. Someone was gonna be punched when he figured out what was going on. What kind of clothes were they, even? For now, anything would do.
He stepped out, eventually, towards the open door and naturally gravitated his eyes to the woman, brow furrowing. "Hey." he was confused as to what to even say. He decided to cut to the chase. "What's going on? How long have I been out?" simultaneously he rubbed a hand over his face. His level of shaving would have told him, normally. He noticed his hands, smooth, and blinked. "...Why do I have girly hands?" well, considering he hasn't worked a day in his life...
Leila Ragnarok:
The young woman looked him up and down in silence, but it was hard to see what was the outcome of this judging stare. Now clad in simple shirt and pants of light blue fabrics, something that was typical wear in this world for higher class hospitals, he looked... normal. In her opinion, still not nowhere as impressive as the scientists had pictured him. But that was to be expected.
His questions, she did not answer directly, just shrugged. "Come. Doc Know-it-all will clear it up for you." Without waiting, Leila turned around and headed down the corridor. After short walk, she opened large wooden doors, without knocking on them.
"Oh, there you are, so nice, so nice," the doctor stood up and smiled. "Come in, make your self comfortable. My name is Magnus Johnson and it's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr Emmerich. Or would you prefer being called Wraith Beknight?"
Raphael Emmerich:
Stared at, he looked nervous. "Take a picture, it lasts longer." He hated feeling like a lemming, following along absently. He didn't have much choice, even if he passively let his eyes inspect the structure. Were there other doors, windows, cameras? He felt entirely uncomfortable... and somewhat winded, considering young neo was using his legs for probably the first time. What had HAPPENED?
The doors opened, and the greeting somehow made his skin prickle, even before the question. "Tch. Just because Rafe sounds like Wraith doesn't mean I'm a maniac running around in spandex. What kind of idiot would pick a codename like that? I'm a repair-man. Emmerich Repairs." apparently, he picked Emmerich. Of course he hadn't picked his own code name... And he ran around in compressed metal, not spandex. He figured it sounded dismissive enough, though. "Care to tell me why I feel like a ninny-boy, or why I was naked? ...where's my cell phone?" If it even still had signal. He still wasn't aware of his situation.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sat down in one of the large leather chairs. Although her posture was relaxed, she was alert of every move made in the room - and outside. Her eyes shifted to one of the upper corners, knowing that coin-sized window hid a camera. It would record everything, just like her memory.
Her attention then turned back to the man. She smirked mentally, at the way he spoke, of him and things around him. His oblivious ways were... amusing.
"Please, sit down, Mr. Emmerich. What I am about to tell you, could be quite shocking." The scientist retreated to the chair behind the table, seemingly feeling much more at ease there. The "newborn" man clearly made him nervous. And Leila didn't blame him, recalling the few previous 'versions' of this experiment.
"Mr. Emmerich, as you might know, all information regarding your physical and mental state was copied by Leviathan arms corporation. Not only that - it was saved in a form that could be used to recreate you, exactly you, not a body void of memories and experiences, as you were when the copying occurred."
The scientist, clasped his hands together and smiled - all too widely for it to seem sincere -: "you, right now, are the result of such recreation, Mr. Emmerich. Today is August 25th of year 2289, your body reflects you at age 27 - without any training of course -, and was created about half a year ago. Congratulations, Mr. Emmerich! Today is your new birthday!"
Leila nearly snorted, her mouth corners pulling upwards, in a darkly amused smile. Doc Know-it-all had the most absurd way of announcing life and mind shattering facts. If it was her, in "Mr. Emmerich's" position, she would strangle him right then and there. But then again, HE was the fool who had given a permission of recreating him self. No one would ever mess with HER mind or body. And stay alive, that is.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Jon... Did... WHAT?" apparently it wasn't permission as much as coincidence. Until spending a few years with Jessie, Rafe had trouble making the DVD player work. Even if his mental state was a slightly later recording, it... was hard to even try to adjust. 2200something. ...Yeah, right. "You're either insane... Or Lode's finally getting me." he rubbed his eyes wearily. "I'll settle with insane. Where's a phone? ...Give me a PHONE." he looked for something recognizeable. His eyes flitted to the camera the woman's eyes had told him about. Past experiments being trouble was no surprise. He was a Leo through and through, and in this moment he had released his mental control to confusion and anger. One can only imagine how an imperfect copy would react. His hands, smooth... His body, tired, but he still could not so easily believe what they said. "I want to call my wife."
Leila Ragnarok:
He was as shocked as expected. More than the previous one. But then again, that one had broken down after few hours, went hysterical and Leila had to... expose of it. She had dealt with her share of mentally ill and insane, but that had been disturbing experience. One moment, talking, telling about past - his wife, children (seemed like there were many of those) -, then began crying and tried to strangle her, screaming, "give me back my life!"
'I think death came as relief, ending his suffering," the woman thought, eyes following closely each Raphael's movement. It reminded Leila of her self, when she was just a child, torn away from home, right after her family was murdered. What wouldn't she give to be with them, then...
Magnus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but not because of guilt or compassion, more like afraid the new masterpiece could go crazy and attack him. "No, Mr. Emmerich you are not insane. But if trying to dial would give you some peace..." He slid small device over the table, but in the wrong direction, and Leila leaned forward to catch it, before it crashed to ground and then handed it to the young man.
He was only going to hurt him self this way, and even this probably wouldn't assure him. Maybe she should later take him to his old house... Test of his new mental stability.
Raphael Emmerich:
"I don't think it's me. I think you're cracked." nuts. Insane. He snapped out a hand to also intercept the phone with quick neural reflex, but not the muscular accuracy, catching it by the lip of the desk. Her hand had been necessary, which made his eyebrows and jaw tense. One dial brought up a generic message about an incorrect number. He looked concerned but... "Area code." he murmered. He had no idea where he really was! He dialed again, and got a ringing. There was a click as it picked up. "Elsie!" a man's voice was confused, mishearing and asking who it was. "...get out of my house, Brian. Where's Els?" of course... there was no Elsie there, nor was the man Brian. He listened to the man asking who he was in silence until the other end hung up, and listened to the dial tone for a few minutes before hanging up, himself. "This has to be a joke." he looked more hollow than vibrant, looking down at his wrist. It lacked the girth of a lifetime of grit and gristle. Hopefully they could deal with a minute of silence as he looked up. "Okay. Let's pretend I believe any of this. What makes YOU resurrect ME? There has to be... Someone more fitting. Einstein, or a president. Not a repair-man." well, most of those didn't have their brains uploaded in training programs. They had called him Wraith, but... Well, if it was true--which he still resisted--he had no family or friends to even worry about protecting. Vigilantes rarely had successful families.
Leila Ragnarok:
The doctor was quiet, as if afraid that if he said anything, Raphael could jump over table and break his neck. So, Leila shrugged mentally and looked to Raphael.
"It's simple. You are only one who has been copied so. They wanted to see if it actually works. Immortality, right at their fingertips, in shape of you."
Magnus glared at her, she had said too much most likely, but Leila couldn't care less. While mental tormenting could be extremely fun, sometimes it was unneeded. And knowing you're just a pawn in some power hungry shark games could be just as tormenting.
The scientist coughed. "Consider this as another chance at life. If all goes well, and it should, you will live a long, healthy life. Our corporation will offer you a good job, home, education, training." His smile was nearly pleading.
Leila rolled her eyes in her mind. 'You only will be watched nearly every minute of your life and you could break apart any moment, too," the woman mentally finished.
Raphael Emmerich:
"This is... stupid." of his many gifts, vocabulary was not one of them. He stood, then sat, chewed on a thumbnail and cracked his knuckles all within a few seconds. "So let me get this straight. You," he pointed at the nutty doctor, then back at himself, "are interested in me, because you think I'm immortal, but I had to be brought back to life." well, his form of immortality was... Different. He had aged, albeit well due to his late lifestyle. He had even lived to 98. He just... Hadn't had a recording of himself near that late. He was still in half disbelief, not willing to crack over his identity. It was the Wraith that could be killed without dying--another state of mind he entered entirely, and far from where he was right now: out of any state of control and... Lost. "I'm going to wake up and find out I fell asleep in my machine." he rubbed his face with both hands but was still... there, in the office. "I have a home. I've worked on it for twelve years. I have a business. We just went international.
"Okay... that makes it sound bigger than it is, but... My son's in college, I'm out. You can't give me what I already have." well... At least his voice was calm, almost dead-pan. Who knew what state his home was in now, regardless of how solid he built it... Unless his children had inherited it and taken care of it. Who knew about the apartments he rented. Those were always a little slummy. But he was still convinced this was either the past or a bad dream.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sighed softly, it was barely audible. This man was slow. Not that his previous version hadn't proven it, but... Well, she couldn't really fault him too much. He was a guy, for one thing, and it was something hard to comprehend.
Magnus was again fidgeting, and shooting glances at Leila, but she could be hardly bothered by them. The one who was in true control of her, had given her rights to finish this Doc Know-it-all, if needed. And, Leila was master of finding reasons.
"If this technology works, they can find to copy anyone and recreate him at any time. As many times as they want to. That's your immortality's point." Leila paused and brushed strand of hair outside her face, tucking it behind ear, revealing large earring, portraying some animal - maybe bat - in symbolic form.
"And all you're talking about... does not exist anymore. Maybe you could meet up with your great,-great-great-great-grand children or something. If they exist. I am sure Mr.... Johnson has researched that."
Raphael Emmerich:
"Find them." he demanded, eyeing the doctor, who he supposed was Johnson, for right or wrong. "I have nine kids. You can't tell me I don't have any living relatives." actually... He had closer to 20, just not at the time of his print. Not only had his wife wanted a prolific number of children, she had been an orphanage worker of the best breed. A former foster child himself, it was part of what made him fall for her. The two raised almost a few generations of children in their time, each supplied with a formidable college fund. The old house expanded from 5 to 8 bedrooms with time, older children rotating as caretakers and support in a matriarchal society all its own. But... Well, his eyes burned right then. He wasn't a crying man, but could he be blamed? "I need to see my old house. My basement. Take me to my house." His basement had been his lair, wrought of steel and running on generators, air filters and well sealed. If anything would survive time, that was it. "If any of my kids sold that house I'ma have you raise them just so I can knock the taste out of their mouth, myself." ... a little oldschool, this one. But despite the rough edges, perhaps his history spoke of his work.
Leila Ragnarok:
"I... I will, Mr. Emmerich," the man seemed shaken and ran hand over his thin hair, that began to retreat not only on the corners of his forehead, but also in middle of his head. "It might take me a day or two, though."
Leila's expression changed for a second, clearly portraying one word: "liar". But it was never voiced. With that, the scientist seemed to remember about her more clearly. "Oh, this young lady here will be your guide in this new world. A partner, if you will. Her name is Leila Ragnarok." He smiled, sweat beading on forehead. The woman wondered, from whom he was more afraid - her or Raphael.
"Let's get going," she stood up and without any good byes, any polite gestures left the room.
A room. A bed. A man. So simple, yet nothing as it seems on the surface. One must dig, tear away the skin to find the truth, the reason. Especially in this world where men and women dance and drink merrily in rooms made of glass and steel, high above the streets where their own kind struggle, fight and crawl for survival. And here, our story begins.
Darkness behind the man's eyes slowly left, seeped away, giving place for light. Too bright it was, as was this whole room. It would hurt eyes of even those used to such exposure. There was only white and silver here, even the lines of metal going over the ankles and wrists of the man. They did not grip him tightly, not enough to harm him, but they were firm. And the machines, the many machines were also white and silver, except for their screens on which many lines and numbers ran. The screens matched the man more, his dark hair, so different from this room.
As he woke, the machines began to beep like some virus had driven them mad. And with matching crazy haste, men and women came rushing into the white, soft room - the walls, the floors, even the ceiling were covered with some soft, maybe even bouncy material. The scientists - as one could assume from their lab coats and white hats that covered hair, stood in a circle around the bed, just one of them came closer, standing to the right side of the bed, his blue eyes looking over the sleeping body, stopping at each metal band, wire and node attached to it.
When the man's eyes opened, few gasped, and although they received glares, it was apparent everyone present was overwhelmed with some emotions. There was a short silence, and then the scientist who seemed to be in lead, coughed softly.
"You are safe, Mr. Emmerich. Do not be afraid. The restrains are for your own safety and will be removed in a moment."
Raphael Emmerich:
Well... the last thing he remembered was a training program. After adapting LAI's old coding, he hadn't used it nearly as much as he should. His street experience was training enough. But once Ragnarok ended, and the Wendigo was stopped--he retired to being the old chief of some sloppy version of the superfriends. He was due for training. Sure, he'd retired to domestic life but he always had a fighting spirit. His eyes cracked open and squinted. It looked eerily like the ceiling of Sheol I, his first base. "Jess...?" he groggily called for his personal Alfred, to no avail. Had some accident happened? He tried to sit up and was... Cuffed. Tug. They were surrounding him, none familiar. There was a moment of panic, quickly turned anger. "Sonofabitch, Lode, if you're still alive--" and responsible for this, his tone infered some sort of threat. His body state... Probably wasn't as trained as he had been after a lifetime of roughnecking and training, so... His attempt to pop the cuff by resistance, power of mind or not, was unsuccessful. "What the fuck is this?" despite Elsie's nagging, he never had quite gotten a handle on his tongue. It made a valid vacation fund out of the swear jar. He paused, realizing just how foreign the surroundings were. "I finally cracked, didn't I?" well... It was a padded room.
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok:
"No, no, quite the opposite, Mr. Emmerich," the doctor hurriedly assured him, putting on the best kind smile he could muster.
"You... seem perfectly healthy."
It sounded like this thought immensely pleased the man.
"It is completely understandable that you are confused, so, we shall leave you to freshen up," he motioned to one of the walls, where without sound doors opened up.
"There you will find clothes and other necessities. When you are ready, you will be guided to my office, where we can discuss everything in more..."
He paused, looking for the right word, "pleasant atmosphere."
The scientists hurriedly left, some nervously glancing back at him, and as soon as everyone was gone, the nodes, wires and even the restrains retreated away from the man, freeing him to do what he pleased.
On the other side of doors to corridor, a young woman stood. She watched as the scientists fled, a smirk playing in the corners of her mouth. They all greeted her silently, with a nod of head, but seemed to not want to linger in her company. And it was understandable. There was something about her, something strange, that made it seem as if she both belonged here, and stood out like a sore thumb. A little like faint smell and feel of death in hospitals - unwelcomed, unaccepted, yet unavoidable and somehow fitting.
She was similar to the machines in the white room, white - in hair and skin -, but her eyes and clothes under the white labcoat were dark. And just as seemingly mechanical, emotionless was her expression, smirk fading when the scientists disappeared from the sight.
She waited for the man to emerge from the room, their new lab rat she would spend her time with from now. But not for long, surely. Either he would go mad, like the one before him, or soon be unnecessary.
Raphael Emmerich:
He snorted. Damn straight. "Wait, clothes?" he looked down and noticed he was bare. "WHO UNDRESSED ME?" but... He probably wasn't getting an answer. The cords retracted and the clamps freed him. He flexed his wrists one at a time while gripping them. His legs swung over the side of the bed and he immediately searched out his clothing, grabbing them angrilly and muttering. Someone was gonna be punched when he figured out what was going on. What kind of clothes were they, even? For now, anything would do.
He stepped out, eventually, towards the open door and naturally gravitated his eyes to the woman, brow furrowing. "Hey." he was confused as to what to even say. He decided to cut to the chase. "What's going on? How long have I been out?" simultaneously he rubbed a hand over his face. His level of shaving would have told him, normally. He noticed his hands, smooth, and blinked. "...Why do I have girly hands?" well, considering he hasn't worked a day in his life...
Leila Ragnarok:
The young woman looked him up and down in silence, but it was hard to see what was the outcome of this judging stare. Now clad in simple shirt and pants of light blue fabrics, something that was typical wear in this world for higher class hospitals, he looked... normal. In her opinion, still not nowhere as impressive as the scientists had pictured him. But that was to be expected.
His questions, she did not answer directly, just shrugged. "Come. Doc Know-it-all will clear it up for you." Without waiting, Leila turned around and headed down the corridor. After short walk, she opened large wooden doors, without knocking on them.
"Oh, there you are, so nice, so nice," the doctor stood up and smiled. "Come in, make your self comfortable. My name is Magnus Johnson and it's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr Emmerich. Or would you prefer being called Wraith Beknight?"
Raphael Emmerich:
Stared at, he looked nervous. "Take a picture, it lasts longer." He hated feeling like a lemming, following along absently. He didn't have much choice, even if he passively let his eyes inspect the structure. Were there other doors, windows, cameras? He felt entirely uncomfortable... and somewhat winded, considering young neo was using his legs for probably the first time. What had HAPPENED?
The doors opened, and the greeting somehow made his skin prickle, even before the question. "Tch. Just because Rafe sounds like Wraith doesn't mean I'm a maniac running around in spandex. What kind of idiot would pick a codename like that? I'm a repair-man. Emmerich Repairs." apparently, he picked Emmerich. Of course he hadn't picked his own code name... And he ran around in compressed metal, not spandex. He figured it sounded dismissive enough, though. "Care to tell me why I feel like a ninny-boy, or why I was naked? ...where's my cell phone?" If it even still had signal. He still wasn't aware of his situation.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sat down in one of the large leather chairs. Although her posture was relaxed, she was alert of every move made in the room - and outside. Her eyes shifted to one of the upper corners, knowing that coin-sized window hid a camera. It would record everything, just like her memory.
Her attention then turned back to the man. She smirked mentally, at the way he spoke, of him and things around him. His oblivious ways were... amusing.
"Please, sit down, Mr. Emmerich. What I am about to tell you, could be quite shocking." The scientist retreated to the chair behind the table, seemingly feeling much more at ease there. The "newborn" man clearly made him nervous. And Leila didn't blame him, recalling the few previous 'versions' of this experiment.
"Mr. Emmerich, as you might know, all information regarding your physical and mental state was copied by Leviathan arms corporation. Not only that - it was saved in a form that could be used to recreate you, exactly you, not a body void of memories and experiences, as you were when the copying occurred."
The scientist, clasped his hands together and smiled - all too widely for it to seem sincere -: "you, right now, are the result of such recreation, Mr. Emmerich. Today is August 25th of year 2289, your body reflects you at age 27 - without any training of course -, and was created about half a year ago. Congratulations, Mr. Emmerich! Today is your new birthday!"
Leila nearly snorted, her mouth corners pulling upwards, in a darkly amused smile. Doc Know-it-all had the most absurd way of announcing life and mind shattering facts. If it was her, in "Mr. Emmerich's" position, she would strangle him right then and there. But then again, HE was the fool who had given a permission of recreating him self. No one would ever mess with HER mind or body. And stay alive, that is.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Jon... Did... WHAT?" apparently it wasn't permission as much as coincidence. Until spending a few years with Jessie, Rafe had trouble making the DVD player work. Even if his mental state was a slightly later recording, it... was hard to even try to adjust. 2200something. ...Yeah, right. "You're either insane... Or Lode's finally getting me." he rubbed his eyes wearily. "I'll settle with insane. Where's a phone? ...Give me a PHONE." he looked for something recognizeable. His eyes flitted to the camera the woman's eyes had told him about. Past experiments being trouble was no surprise. He was a Leo through and through, and in this moment he had released his mental control to confusion and anger. One can only imagine how an imperfect copy would react. His hands, smooth... His body, tired, but he still could not so easily believe what they said. "I want to call my wife."
Leila Ragnarok:
He was as shocked as expected. More than the previous one. But then again, that one had broken down after few hours, went hysterical and Leila had to... expose of it. She had dealt with her share of mentally ill and insane, but that had been disturbing experience. One moment, talking, telling about past - his wife, children (seemed like there were many of those) -, then began crying and tried to strangle her, screaming, "give me back my life!"
'I think death came as relief, ending his suffering," the woman thought, eyes following closely each Raphael's movement. It reminded Leila of her self, when she was just a child, torn away from home, right after her family was murdered. What wouldn't she give to be with them, then...
Magnus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but not because of guilt or compassion, more like afraid the new masterpiece could go crazy and attack him. "No, Mr. Emmerich you are not insane. But if trying to dial would give you some peace..." He slid small device over the table, but in the wrong direction, and Leila leaned forward to catch it, before it crashed to ground and then handed it to the young man.
He was only going to hurt him self this way, and even this probably wouldn't assure him. Maybe she should later take him to his old house... Test of his new mental stability.
Raphael Emmerich:
"I don't think it's me. I think you're cracked." nuts. Insane. He snapped out a hand to also intercept the phone with quick neural reflex, but not the muscular accuracy, catching it by the lip of the desk. Her hand had been necessary, which made his eyebrows and jaw tense. One dial brought up a generic message about an incorrect number. He looked concerned but... "Area code." he murmered. He had no idea where he really was! He dialed again, and got a ringing. There was a click as it picked up. "Elsie!" a man's voice was confused, mishearing and asking who it was. "...get out of my house, Brian. Where's Els?" of course... there was no Elsie there, nor was the man Brian. He listened to the man asking who he was in silence until the other end hung up, and listened to the dial tone for a few minutes before hanging up, himself. "This has to be a joke." he looked more hollow than vibrant, looking down at his wrist. It lacked the girth of a lifetime of grit and gristle. Hopefully they could deal with a minute of silence as he looked up. "Okay. Let's pretend I believe any of this. What makes YOU resurrect ME? There has to be... Someone more fitting. Einstein, or a president. Not a repair-man." well, most of those didn't have their brains uploaded in training programs. They had called him Wraith, but... Well, if it was true--which he still resisted--he had no family or friends to even worry about protecting. Vigilantes rarely had successful families.
Leila Ragnarok:
The doctor was quiet, as if afraid that if he said anything, Raphael could jump over table and break his neck. So, Leila shrugged mentally and looked to Raphael.
"It's simple. You are only one who has been copied so. They wanted to see if it actually works. Immortality, right at their fingertips, in shape of you."
Magnus glared at her, she had said too much most likely, but Leila couldn't care less. While mental tormenting could be extremely fun, sometimes it was unneeded. And knowing you're just a pawn in some power hungry shark games could be just as tormenting.
The scientist coughed. "Consider this as another chance at life. If all goes well, and it should, you will live a long, healthy life. Our corporation will offer you a good job, home, education, training." His smile was nearly pleading.
Leila rolled her eyes in her mind. 'You only will be watched nearly every minute of your life and you could break apart any moment, too," the woman mentally finished.
Raphael Emmerich:
"This is... stupid." of his many gifts, vocabulary was not one of them. He stood, then sat, chewed on a thumbnail and cracked his knuckles all within a few seconds. "So let me get this straight. You," he pointed at the nutty doctor, then back at himself, "are interested in me, because you think I'm immortal, but I had to be brought back to life." well, his form of immortality was... Different. He had aged, albeit well due to his late lifestyle. He had even lived to 98. He just... Hadn't had a recording of himself near that late. He was still in half disbelief, not willing to crack over his identity. It was the Wraith that could be killed without dying--another state of mind he entered entirely, and far from where he was right now: out of any state of control and... Lost. "I'm going to wake up and find out I fell asleep in my machine." he rubbed his face with both hands but was still... there, in the office. "I have a home. I've worked on it for twelve years. I have a business. We just went international.
"Okay... that makes it sound bigger than it is, but... My son's in college, I'm out. You can't give me what I already have." well... At least his voice was calm, almost dead-pan. Who knew what state his home was in now, regardless of how solid he built it... Unless his children had inherited it and taken care of it. Who knew about the apartments he rented. Those were always a little slummy. But he was still convinced this was either the past or a bad dream.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sighed softly, it was barely audible. This man was slow. Not that his previous version hadn't proven it, but... Well, she couldn't really fault him too much. He was a guy, for one thing, and it was something hard to comprehend.
Magnus was again fidgeting, and shooting glances at Leila, but she could be hardly bothered by them. The one who was in true control of her, had given her rights to finish this Doc Know-it-all, if needed. And, Leila was master of finding reasons.
"If this technology works, they can find to copy anyone and recreate him at any time. As many times as they want to. That's your immortality's point." Leila paused and brushed strand of hair outside her face, tucking it behind ear, revealing large earring, portraying some animal - maybe bat - in symbolic form.
"And all you're talking about... does not exist anymore. Maybe you could meet up with your great,-great-great-great-grand children or something. If they exist. I am sure Mr.... Johnson has researched that."
Raphael Emmerich:
"Find them." he demanded, eyeing the doctor, who he supposed was Johnson, for right or wrong. "I have nine kids. You can't tell me I don't have any living relatives." actually... He had closer to 20, just not at the time of his print. Not only had his wife wanted a prolific number of children, she had been an orphanage worker of the best breed. A former foster child himself, it was part of what made him fall for her. The two raised almost a few generations of children in their time, each supplied with a formidable college fund. The old house expanded from 5 to 8 bedrooms with time, older children rotating as caretakers and support in a matriarchal society all its own. But... Well, his eyes burned right then. He wasn't a crying man, but could he be blamed? "I need to see my old house. My basement. Take me to my house." His basement had been his lair, wrought of steel and running on generators, air filters and well sealed. If anything would survive time, that was it. "If any of my kids sold that house I'ma have you raise them just so I can knock the taste out of their mouth, myself." ... a little oldschool, this one. But despite the rough edges, perhaps his history spoke of his work.
Leila Ragnarok:
"I... I will, Mr. Emmerich," the man seemed shaken and ran hand over his thin hair, that began to retreat not only on the corners of his forehead, but also in middle of his head. "It might take me a day or two, though."
Leila's expression changed for a second, clearly portraying one word: "liar". But it was never voiced. With that, the scientist seemed to remember about her more clearly. "Oh, this young lady here will be your guide in this new world. A partner, if you will. Her name is Leila Ragnarok." He smiled, sweat beading on forehead. The woman wondered, from whom he was more afraid - her or Raphael.
"Let's get going," she stood up and without any good byes, any polite gestures left the room.
Raphael Emmerich:
He didn't like the look he caught on the woman, and sent his eyes scrutinously upon the doctor. He leaned over the counter. "Think about who you think I am. Don't lie to me." he pushed back up and turned to Leila. "Show me the way to my old place." He tried to sound matter of fact and in charge, even if he was still convinced he was in a dream. If it was a dream, it was time to make it a lucid one. He was quick to follow, wherever that road took him. He wanted out of here, to see the world with his own eyes. Once it was only the two of him, after a silent streak he voiced. "This isn't a joke, is it?" he was still coming out of the haze, with the idea that this might be reality still sinking in. "I just... Need to check something before I really... take this all in." his base, under his old home. Endless security cameras for family safety (and scaring the crap out of his kids with omniscience) were recorded in an enormous database. He could see for himself just what happened.
Leila Ragnarok:
She turned back at him, staring up - and seemingly trough - at him. Her eyes were dark, maybe black, maybe purple, and slit like those of a cat. And too void of emotions, even now.
"I don't know where your house is. In which city, even. Streets could be renamed by now." In fact, they had been, various times, as the ruling force changed. And they were not in one of the 'old cities', no. This facility was nearly in middle of nowhere, situated between one of the new Domes, and Chicago.
She was not entirely honest, but then again, the information she had gathered was not personal, just data that made clear WHY he was precious. Not about who he was, as a simple human. Scientists hardly cared for that.
Raphael Emmerich:
He didn't like people dodging his questions. He wasn't the brightest bulb in the box but he knew when he was being dodged. He trudged on mechanically, hands in his pockets and head hanging. Somehow a stray single bang fell in his eyes, leaving him wondering if messy hair was somehow genetic. "...Where did you find my..." he struggled to find a word. "Schematics." they wouldn't be far from there. The nexus city was loosely conjoined to a series of towns in the central US. If they got his data, they had to have gotten there somehow. His question was forward enough. He had a hundred other questions, but it wasn't time yet. He had to stabilize and recognize this as reality.
Leila Ragnarok:
"I am not a scientist or explorer. I wasn't there. They pulled me into this two months ago," Leila shrugged. "But maybe..." she tapped a wide metal bracelet on her wrist, and a small screen appeared. The woman kept walking, down the corridor, with many doors, merged in the walls and barely noticeable, still tapping. Sometimes her mouth twitched and then her hand fell to her side.
Coming to a halt, Leila turned to side and pressed small button on wall. Doors opened, revealing an elevator. As she stepped in, something like chair came out of the side wall, kindly offering her a seat, but she stepped deeper in the elevator. The woman motioned Raphael to get on.
The sooner he either went insane or was announced as 'stable', the sooner she could get her butt out of this and get onto the real deal. Not that Leila desired to kill, but this was no ice cream cup deal either.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Two months? How long have they been doing this?" he was trying to piece his situation together. The elevator opened and displayed a seat, "Please tell me stairs still exist and people haven't gotten so lazy they need to sit down in an elevator." he thought of the movie Wall-E, which was in his family DVD collection. "...we're not on a space ship, are we?" he had a warped idea of the future. Or... Present. "...maybe... What?" she seemed to spark hope into him.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sighed again, just as softly as before. She did NOT like to talk and the woman considered ignoring his questions. But... There was curiosity of her own, and maybe if she quenched his, Raphael would answer her questions. She wanted to know more about world back then, how people lived, how was art, music... Leila was deeply fascinated with singers and composers of the past, raging from few decades old to those who had lived more than 500 years ago.
Besides, she could be brief. "Stairs exist. Scientists wish to move their meek legs as little as possible. This ride won't be so short. No, not in spaceship."
When Raphael got on, she said "bottom floor" and the usual falling feeling began. There was barely any sound, but the elevator surely moved very fast. Still, it took several minutes before they stopped and doors opened. "Have a nice day," pleasant woman voice wished to them as they got out, now standing on edge of huge parking space. Shaking her head softly, Leila went to a strange, slim machine, whose doors slid open as she approached.
"Buckle up, don't want your blood or vomit all over the place," she commented, getting comfortable in the seat. Although Leila did not possess deep liking for technology, this vehicle was her baby.
Raphael Emmerich:
The elevator's steep fall reminded him of his own secret shaft at his home, albeit quieter and smoother. Still, his stomach felt like it shot into his throat, body not used to it. His power of mind was his strongest tool, but his mind was busy grasping his position. Realizing a rail had been grabbed reflexively, he cleared his throat to restore his dignity and stood to walk out with her. "...I already miss the Hornet." he murmered, seeing her vehicle. It brought a sense of familiarity. "Man... If only you knew how I drive." they had to dampen the cycle by a few hundred miles per hour in the day for stability's sake only. "Oh man... The Judge..." he started lamenting his vehicles already. Still, he slid into the seat begrudgingly, examining the gears and dials and whatever else the dashboard promised. He chuckled at an odd memory, lying to the Hourglass when he loaned her his bike during Ragnarok. /Here's the turrets, the accelerant, the flames--acceleration and break. Don't hit anything else. There's a self destruct button./ who DOES that?! She had demanded.
Leila Ragnarok:
The woman rose brow quizzically, maybe even a little annoyed, at his words. He seemed to be proud of his driving ability. Very proud, in fact. And his vehicles, as oddly as they were named. But, if she were to be honest with her self, both were things she deeply understood.
With quiet sound, seat belts slid across his chest, a little too tightly to be really comfortable, but in few seconds, Raphael was most likely thankful they were there. The vehicle shot up nearly vertically, flipping to side, to earn room where to spread small wings of sort. Then it's noise pointed to ground, smoothing into horizontal line seemingly a moment before unavoidable crash.
It moved fast, everything a blur behind the windows, but soon, they were not alone in the air, more vehicles running towards them, past them, crossing their path. In some maniacal way, Leila eased her way trough the stream, as if it was most common thing to do. Diving, moving side ways, rising above... Her face seemed to soften a little, as if she was enjoying her self.
One could say she really drove like a woman... Or maybe insane man.
"Music," she said softly, and record player began to work, first notes of some instrumental piece filling the vehicle. It was a piece with pan flute solo, a little like heartache or longing. But after that, something akin to doom metal began to play, powerful man's voice bringing forth quite deep words (although, they could be distinctly heard only when the lyrics were actually known).
As they neared a big city, with high peaks and towers, they slowed down, but only so much he could actually make out some of the scenery behind the window, which surely was not only bullet, but also explosion, acid and many other thing proof.
Raphael Emmerich:
Well, after pressing himself against his seat like he was part of it, and getting his heart to start working again, he took a few breaths and watched the other hovercars. "...meet george jetson." he jingled, even if the rest was somehow familiar. The metal startled him. "...and Dethklok." he blinked, trying to look out the window downward. "You still have... regular roads, right?" he gauged how far from the ground they were. "So... where are we going?" he raised his voice over the music.
Leila Ragnarok:
She looked sideways, not entirely understanding the reference, only that it could be not about the music, but more about the machine. But, at his correct recognition of the band playing, smile ghosted on her lips, although vanished quickly, when more intense dive - rise above - sideways combo had to be done.
"32," she said, and the music became more quiet, the number apparently meaning the one on sound scale.
"Yes, there are still roads. I could have used them, but it's faster this way." Leila could've mentioned she also liked to fly better - with vehicle or not -, but kept that to her self.
"To your house, or it's past location," the woman explained, doing a smooth turn and then shooting over some small round vehicle in neon green color. Something made a loud, beeping nose behind them and she rolled her eyes. Apparently, someone had blown 'horn' at her driving.
Raphael finally managed to measure how far they are from solid surface and it turned out to be a good deal of miles. Now, spanning from the city ahead, he saw many thin lines of roads and even smaller cars shooting up and down on them. Some were really colorful, but most looked dull. In fact, most of the surroundings seemed in toned-down colors.
As they flew closer, the vehicle moved towards ground, apparently to get into some kind of flying car flow, like second streets, high above the normal ones. After they went over the suburban area, which seemed to have small, round, white and colorful houses scattered all over it, each surrounded by small gardens, too green to seem natural or fit in, all the buildings seemed like skyscrapers or higher. Next on music playlist was female singer, with suicidal lyrics, but Leila ordered next song, before it played more than few lines. It happened to be a great cover of melody what could be recognized as "Autumn Leaves" by Eric Clapton with accordion and violin.
'Nearly there," she thought, now the speed being nearly normal, so she would more fit in the flow. Getting a speeding ticket of sorts was not in her to-do list for today. Then, she vehicle dove down, weaving between houses, that got shorter and shorter, as if someone had sprinkled a good deal of shrinking powder on this part of city.
Raphael Emmerich:
He tucked back in. He didn't necessarily have a fear of heights, but he had enough for his brain to digest right now, much less wondering how these cars handled turbulence. It was becoming increasingly clear that this was real; that, or a living dream. He normally would have been annoyed by her quiet demeanor, but it was peaceful as he assessed his position. He could bury her in questions, but if Level Nine still functioned he could get most answers himself. The house was surely age worn, but had stayed in the family for a few generations, much like the business that upkept it for a few decades. Sadly, eventually history was lost, and whoever had inherited the deed had sold it off as a historical find, and over time, it became slummy rental. It was already a giant affair, and the eight rooms and four bathrooms divided it into four apartments. His former garage, huge from workspace and for their collectors vehicles, was covered parking -- and a new tier supplied a few more living quarters. He twinged.
He already wanted to paint it and replace some boards. Still, he boldly went and knocked at the door, and rang a doorbell until an answer came. If she protested, he didn't hear. Whoever answered the door was pushed aside. He assessed the basic structure was the same, but it all needed sanding and reworking. He plowed towards the old laundry room in spite of protests, kicking through a door en route and applying his entire strength to pushing aside washers. The hidden door was jammed with age but a few shoulderbutts fixed that, and soon a button drew a whirring sound from an open shaft, where a rhudimentary elevator was rising to meet him. The revelation of the hidden chamber stifled protests with shock. With or without his new companion, he stepped into the old style shaft, and if she followed near, he nodded for her to stand next to him. She only had a few seconds to decide before it plummeted, quickly and noisily, a few hundred feet down.
Leila Ragnarok:
Without a moment of hesitation, Leila followed him. She only fell back a little, because she had to press button to lock the car, but after that, she was following Raphael on his heels. When the man standing in doors protested loudly at intruders, she pushed an ID card in his face, and he immediately shut up. Whatever she worked for was probably one of the biggest beasts among its kind. Top of the food chain.
Of course, she also stepped in the elevator with the newly reborn man, however due to her few stops, Leila was nearly too late, and her form seemed to blur briefly, but then she regained firm outline and footing, next to the man, giving a sarcastic wave to the confused, shocked, man above. Well, he had brought it upon him self, by informing their corporation of 'strange junk in the basement'.
'Woah,' was woman's first thought as she stepped out and took the sight in. Although in bad state, his headquarters of sorts were rather impressive. Especially taking note of the time they had been created at. In its glory days, this basement was surely something to be proud of. Maybe this Raphael character wasn't so empty brained after all.
Raphael Emmerich:
It's condition wasn't even that shoddy. The generators were still revving up, triggered by the elevator. It was the smaller of his two primary bases, but was still wider than the already large building outside. Flipping a light switch, oddly, most of the lights still worked. They hadn't had reason to burn out, and any that had were defects in the bulb. It was a filtered base, leaving little dust to settle, and minimized the effect of the elements. It was essentially an enormous block of steel, sectioned off. They descended first into a room of vehicles. Unless they had been comphiscated, it was a yellow and black sleek sports cycle, an orange musclecar with twirling black lines and "the judge" written near the headlights, a truck, and several odd accessories that the lights drew attention to. A massive gate waited to either side, the right already opened to a main area divided by sections of what looked like bullet proof glass. In one, a high pressure decontamination shower. another, old school machines (lathes and mills to make metal parts himself), and in another, something that looked like a small shooting range. The main area was halfly taken up by a computer mainframe that wrapped the corner, full of monitors of various sizes. "Dante, talk to me, baby." he spoke before ever reaching the computer. The glassy walls shimmered. agroserium tried to conduct a signal and the computer struggled to re activate with the power as it was programmed to. The responding voice was choppy, but Rafe dragged fingers over illuminated red basic boot up commands littered on the glass to give it a boot. -g, g, good morning, sire. I H, h, have not seen you for a while.- "Atta boy. Functional?" -Impaired. My internal clock seems to have run dry.- "...Not surprising." -Unidentified guest.- "Permitted." "Find a place to sit." there was only the computer chair and a gurney, on that front, but he shrugged. she could sit where she wanted. "Dante should help me sort myself out."
Leila Ragnarok:
And this all... is your handiwork?" she asked, looking about, her voice far more emotionless and unimpressed than she truly was. Although she lived in time of technology, where you could snap fingers and get practically anything, she recognized the power and thought that had to go into something like this. After all, Leila preferred to make and adjust things with her own hands, too, even that usually was switching someone's status down to 'dead'.
At the computer's voice, and Raphael's comment, woman crossed arms under her breasts. She had shed the laboratory coat somewhere, the gothic clothing out of place in the slightly rusty mech room. Somehow, she doubted the computer would have much, if any, correct information on what had occurred on the surface. But she wasn't about to get into discussion with a man, whose mind was set in history, and barely chirping computer.
"Great, that will maybe (this word was emphasized) save me getting you "Short history of Recovering medicine's effect on humankind in the last 200 years" which is about 500 pages thick."
The woman dusted off the computer chair, not caring if it would be more comfortable for him to have access to it, and sat down into it, crossing feet at ankles. She turned the chair slowly around few times, still taking in the scenery and expansions of her, invisible to the eye or sensors, slowly sneaked into every corner, every shadow, exploring, researching.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Eh. Mostly." he observed the read out. "This was my second base, after Emmerich Repairs." he spoke freely now, as reality settled on. Who did he need to protect? "The first was built by Leviathan Arms International under my rental property. But... when the sewers collapsed, I smuggled extra materials this way through the company and built it off of similar schematics. I used to work construction." among other things. "Jessie helped my build a new level nine for Dante." the computer, presumably. "...I cut and welded the pieces, he assembled them and transplanted the program." -Sir...- the computer seemed uncomfortable. Rafe's voice hit a deadpan. "It's fine, Dante." -No, not that. You appear so... Young.- "...that's what I was wondering. The last thing I remember was Steven returning from college... and Jared heading out. Load video feed starting a week after." -...Yes, sir.- the computer, bogged down with time and missing functions, popped multiple windows up on the main screen while re-initializing tasks and searching directories. "The clear walls.. Well, Agroserium was found by Jon. I'm just the one who figured out how to make it a resin for glass-like surfaces. Bulletproof and capable of carrying electrical signals. It's what I made the Accurst cockpit out of." he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "When was the last time Jessie logged in?" -That would be... august 27, 2033, when he retired and you left me to master Steven, Revenant II.- "...sounds right. Did he ever manage to be a botanist?" -Professor if biology, sir. How did you forget?- "...I'm not quite sure. Are you online?" -The internet? No, DNS protocol has changed.- "...Mm. They must have pulled data from the first Level Nine." -what data, sir?- "I'm still not sure." he turned to his new partner. "So you said... My 'immortality' interested them?" he snorted as if to scoff.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila tilted her head to the side slightly, listening to him. Rambler, apparently, no matter how sane or insane. Would this trait stay? If so, that would get on her nerves a little. But at least he wasn't asking questions, or expecting her to say anything. As an 'observation object', Raphael proved to be quite interesting. Her diary would get a nice, long entry tonight.
She listened to the man and artificial intelligence discussion. For the time they both came from, it had to be something like from fictional movie. Iron man? Batman? Some of their super heroes that she never remembered names of. Now everyone of importance was a super hero. Or super villain. Yes, more like a villain. And there were nowhere near enough the good kind to bring order, happiness and peace to world.
When his attention turned back to her, Leila shrugged and spun so she was facing him. Barely unnoticeable move, but she flicked the wrist and the thic bracelet grew dim, gaining color of coal.
"Yes. From what I know, Levianthan arms international crumbled, later followed by Lode Corp in its demise, the latter partially due to processes that washed over the whole world." The woman paused, wondering if the computer had any information on that, but hopefully uninterrupted, continued.
"People responsible for your project died, more or less naturally, however some branches, their documents and machines were sold to various sides of world. Traces of your 'copy' lingered, but until this bunk was found, they passed unnoticed. Then your name caught attention, and the corporation holding the project was about to begin realizing it, but was..." she smirked, "persuaded into selling it. That happened about 2 years ago."
Again, a moment of silence. "You are the fifth one, they are nervously waiting for you to have a mental or physical break down. But if you don't, then it's proof any big guy can eventually afford to have his mind copied, planted into some cloned super-man's body with any chosen power."
"I am sure you understand what it means. There is always a backup copy, and when the body is getting old, the big boss just gets a new one, even better than the last, maybe. Mind copies are nothing new, but until now, they have always been put into virtual reality. Merging it with real body has never had successful results. You're a miracle, a gift of God, if any of them believe in other god than themselves."
Leila shook head slightly, looking at him trough few silvery bangs. "But in few month's or year's time, you could grow unnecessary. Know too much, involved too deep. You better find a really (emphasized, again) good reason for them to keep you around, big guy."
Honestly, she was bored. It was dancing on edge that gave her the needed adrenaline rush Leila was used to. And there had been far too little of such exercises during these 2, maybe even 4 months. She told him this, warned him, not because she felt particular care or worry, for this reborn man, but because the higher ups would not be entirely pleased, yet, have no reason to even seriously scold her. It was like taunting them, showing the middle finger. What's even more, they most likely heard nothing of this conversation, the little recorder in her bracelet turned off. So, they could only speculate. Smirk tugged the woman's mouth corners upward again. Yes, that was certainly worth speaking uncharacteristicly much.
Raphael Emmerich:
By all odds they had lost her signal entirely. It was built as a bomb shelter. "I don't believe in god." he countered. "Or maybe I could say, I don't think god believes in us. Dante, minimize my files for later viewing. Display Ragnarok, as by Lode's satellite." the computer audibly confirmed, signal fritzing before showing a blackened earth, with storm of blackest pitch, deeper than the depth of night at planet's edge, highlighted only in faces. "Process that swept the planet... God. Dante, find record of penetration of the abomination." the reel fast forwarded, and a rare gap in the clouds revealed cyclones of steel and death, with rivers washing in blood and the seas turning black. Chaos rained as all sides held their own stands in the front. "Dante, Ophois and Athena." the camera panned, glitching heavily as it had suffered interference. A mechanical white wolf man glossed heroically, paused on for a moment before panning and zooming in the same frame to a tangle of black and red ribbons. "That little witch skinned the Ophois suit from Jon and gave it to another. That is to say how LAI fell. As for Lode Corp," the satellite saw a tremendous red blaze, and then the signal was dead. "This was only retrieved from delayed ping to a neighboring satellite. Lode finally died, after his HQ was shred. Cut feed." and then the window closed. "How is that... For your records?" he hoisted a brow her way as if to challenge. "Whoever tried to replicate me before must'a fucked up. Because me? Nobody controls me. Not you, not the government, and not God. You want my secret? That's my secret. Now figure it out." he paused, rubbing his temples and taking a breath. Calm. Losing control was against the point. "This is a bit much. I'm about to try to get Dante functioning again. If you can give me a net capable device for him to analyze with--and hopefully his connections are still valid--you won't have to worry about connections from me. ...besides. I need time to find out about my life, and you don't seem like the type to be interested." he snorted. "Besides... You want a reason for me to stick... It seems like I have another lifetime of training to catch back up on. Dante... Upside down." that might be confusing, until Rafe promptly put himself in a headstand against the wall, as it was evident he lacked the strength to do it freely as he once had. Video feed upside down, apparently he was reviewing whatever he had missed.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila laughed a short, dry laugh. Her eyes narrowed then, and mouth formed thin line, as if something had stung her, and the girl leaned back in the chair, resting head against the chair.
"So, you and me do have something in common, big guy. We are our own people, however it may seem."
At his request, she got up and placed a small device on the table. It would be something like evolved version of an iPhone or the like, but with apparently no data, rather than all the needed protocols to access Internet with. In fact, it could be used only once or twice, for call or message. The perfect thing to stay anonymous with. Leila always kept a few somewhere.
"Will do? If not, don't have anything better for you."
"I would leave you in this pleasant company, but I ought to stay, but don't mind me," she added, sitting back in the chair, her shadow on the floor swaying for half a second. Then casually, she pulled out earphones and listened to music, but it was only delusion for fools, to think that she did not see each his move. And in fact, she saw what was on the screen for him mostly as well, even if her eyes physically was not in the right angle for that. That's why Leila seemed to get lost in the music, as information was streamed from Shadow's eyes to hers.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Lady... You have no idea." the secret of the undying Wraith was based on that more wholy than many would understand. She probably noticed his arms start to tremor, what with lack of use and the current strain. "Pain... Is just weakness... Leaving the body." he strained out meekly, for himself more than her. The cameras depicted ages of busy life, skipping certain cycles by verbal cue. By all rights after hours blood should have rushed to his head and blacked him out, but... Somehow he stayed conscious and alive. The power of mind was just as important as of body, even if one was suddenly lacking. A few new births were seen, and other new faces of adoptees even into their fiftieth year, when they finally stopped for fear of being unable to live to support them. Weddings and anniversaries were bold affairs. Birthdays were parties even before friends. His family was what drove him to be a vigilante, unlike many. There were pets... Many, many pets. Some dogs goony, others tame. Cats, unidentifiable rodents and more. There was the first time he killed a human being, at 55--impressive with his profession--when Ivan Sokolov finally tried to strike back, and he snapped the man's neck while in civilian mode at home to defend his wife, seeming to instantly suit up as if growing a second skin to drag the bomb ridden corpse out before the house shook from explosion. "Knew I'd get that son of a bitch." or the moments of surprise... Like seeing Nin Akadochi at his table. Children grew and moved on, and by late in the film he lost reason to watch his domestic life, as apparently he had outlived his wife due to physical condition. Again rare in his life path. Then? He flipped down, cracking his neck. "Mm." he stood and popped out his back, but his arms were slow to respond and numb. He walked to her, if she was still awake and so on. "Hey. He said they'd get me what I need. I want ownership of this place back." Dante had been doing his own work meanwhile, assessing and recalibrating. -It seems the fiber optic cables are old, but I can sustain a basic connection.- that would have to do for now. "You'll need an update." but... He had no idea where to start, considering his idea of technology was fairly dated now. "See if you can find what Emmerich Repairs evolved into, Dante. It had to go somewhere, and if it's worth a damn I'm suing for ownership. Passing it in my will is irrelevent if I'm not dead, isn't it?" -about that, sir. This date is... Illogical.- Rafe grinned. "We get you up to snuff and I'm sure we can find whatever data we need for you to make sense of it." the computer only... Beeped, settling into silence. "And me... I'm going to need resistance training, a good old bed of coals, and a few other things," he addressed the woman. "But that can wait." for now, grievances were past. There was no use crying over a life already lived and fully, when it wasn't coming back. "Seems like I've got a point to make."
Leila Ragnarok:
Sometime during the movie, Leila got up and took a look around, not paying much attention to the screen anymore. While people, their past and personality rose an interest her, similar to that of doctors in asylum, watching his life lost its charm rather soon. Trough it, she could hardly learn something about the time Raphael had lived in, or about him - except that he had been happy. And quite powerful. But that last fact she knew already.
After inspecting the vehicles - which had been made copy of and could be found at their base as well - and few other things, the woman returned to the seat. She heard every word spoke trough the soft music and when the man finally decided to give it a rest, she opened eyes before he even made a move towards the chair.
"Yes, for now, they will give you anything you want. Except me off of your back and you - off of their lists."
Leila smiled nearly sincere smile, but something felt off in it, maybe her empty, dead like eyes, that gave the smile eerie feel.
"And for now, you will have to stay at the starting point of our journey," she added a moment later. She had been given permission to drag him back by force, if needed. No one was interested in letting him completely free on his own at least a week after 'birthday'.
Raphael Emmerich:
She, too, might detect something off about him. Upon waking, through the confusion he had fiery eyes, and a voice full of conviction be it right or wrong. He was oddly lulled now, with the calm tone of his voice matching an odd dulling of otherwise crisp blue eyes. Raphael had no dinner to attend. No parent teacher conferences. No particular reason to lighten his mood. They were worried over his stability. Perhaps the others they hadn't allowed what he had gotten, today. "And if I refuse?" it was blank and quiet. He turned about to check a few compartments. "Dante... where did I store Dragon?" -Dragon, last initialized 2038. I believe you housed it in compartment C-12, sir.- Rafe ended up under the computer. "Oh... Look at that. My gloves, too." he supposed he had gotten a little old for biker gloves. He stayed laid out beneath the desk, and as he slid back out he was applying slightly loose, black fingerless gloves. -You also recalibrated the launch sequence after a few erronious revelations. It is the original entry, then reverse and forward again.- "Good to know." -Sire... Your electromagnetic field seems weaker than it has been in several years of recordings.- "I'll fix that."
Leila Ragnarok:
"I will take you back," Leila shrugged. She wasn't surprised by his question, had half expected it, even.
"Fancy artificial intelligence and good old walls won't help you. Besides, it's in your interests to return - you will receive medical care and you can ask whatever you want your self. Don't rely on my tongue to deliver things correctly."
The young woman stood up, tip toed and spread her arms for moment, as if about to embrace something, then set them down to her sides. Again, she tilted head to the side, as if listening to something - the earphones had disappeared somewhere in her clothing a while ago.
They chose her, because she was one of the few in their reach, who could put him in line by force, when Raphael reached full potential. Maybe only one. Leila was good not only at killing, her powers worked for weakening, restraining, moving... Many things. If he would stay with this corporations, they would become... rival of sorts, maybe, for the top position, the trust.
She Needed to be the very best, until she had the chance to see the chairman wither on floor in agony, life slowly leaving his eyes, death coming as relief. Then... one down, one more to go. But that would be achieved with different name, different looks. And he would know what was coming for him. He would know, he would hide, scream... And die. No mercy. Ever. Pity, like pain, was unneeded, had to be crushed and banished, it only held one back down.
"You're coming now, or you need an hour?"
He didn't like the look he caught on the woman, and sent his eyes scrutinously upon the doctor. He leaned over the counter. "Think about who you think I am. Don't lie to me." he pushed back up and turned to Leila. "Show me the way to my old place." He tried to sound matter of fact and in charge, even if he was still convinced he was in a dream. If it was a dream, it was time to make it a lucid one. He was quick to follow, wherever that road took him. He wanted out of here, to see the world with his own eyes. Once it was only the two of him, after a silent streak he voiced. "This isn't a joke, is it?" he was still coming out of the haze, with the idea that this might be reality still sinking in. "I just... Need to check something before I really... take this all in." his base, under his old home. Endless security cameras for family safety (and scaring the crap out of his kids with omniscience) were recorded in an enormous database. He could see for himself just what happened.
Leila Ragnarok:
She turned back at him, staring up - and seemingly trough - at him. Her eyes were dark, maybe black, maybe purple, and slit like those of a cat. And too void of emotions, even now.
"I don't know where your house is. In which city, even. Streets could be renamed by now." In fact, they had been, various times, as the ruling force changed. And they were not in one of the 'old cities', no. This facility was nearly in middle of nowhere, situated between one of the new Domes, and Chicago.
She was not entirely honest, but then again, the information she had gathered was not personal, just data that made clear WHY he was precious. Not about who he was, as a simple human. Scientists hardly cared for that.
Raphael Emmerich:
He didn't like people dodging his questions. He wasn't the brightest bulb in the box but he knew when he was being dodged. He trudged on mechanically, hands in his pockets and head hanging. Somehow a stray single bang fell in his eyes, leaving him wondering if messy hair was somehow genetic. "...Where did you find my..." he struggled to find a word. "Schematics." they wouldn't be far from there. The nexus city was loosely conjoined to a series of towns in the central US. If they got his data, they had to have gotten there somehow. His question was forward enough. He had a hundred other questions, but it wasn't time yet. He had to stabilize and recognize this as reality.
Leila Ragnarok:
"I am not a scientist or explorer. I wasn't there. They pulled me into this two months ago," Leila shrugged. "But maybe..." she tapped a wide metal bracelet on her wrist, and a small screen appeared. The woman kept walking, down the corridor, with many doors, merged in the walls and barely noticeable, still tapping. Sometimes her mouth twitched and then her hand fell to her side.
Coming to a halt, Leila turned to side and pressed small button on wall. Doors opened, revealing an elevator. As she stepped in, something like chair came out of the side wall, kindly offering her a seat, but she stepped deeper in the elevator. The woman motioned Raphael to get on.
The sooner he either went insane or was announced as 'stable', the sooner she could get her butt out of this and get onto the real deal. Not that Leila desired to kill, but this was no ice cream cup deal either.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Two months? How long have they been doing this?" he was trying to piece his situation together. The elevator opened and displayed a seat, "Please tell me stairs still exist and people haven't gotten so lazy they need to sit down in an elevator." he thought of the movie Wall-E, which was in his family DVD collection. "...we're not on a space ship, are we?" he had a warped idea of the future. Or... Present. "...maybe... What?" she seemed to spark hope into him.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila sighed again, just as softly as before. She did NOT like to talk and the woman considered ignoring his questions. But... There was curiosity of her own, and maybe if she quenched his, Raphael would answer her questions. She wanted to know more about world back then, how people lived, how was art, music... Leila was deeply fascinated with singers and composers of the past, raging from few decades old to those who had lived more than 500 years ago.
Besides, she could be brief. "Stairs exist. Scientists wish to move their meek legs as little as possible. This ride won't be so short. No, not in spaceship."
When Raphael got on, she said "bottom floor" and the usual falling feeling began. There was barely any sound, but the elevator surely moved very fast. Still, it took several minutes before they stopped and doors opened. "Have a nice day," pleasant woman voice wished to them as they got out, now standing on edge of huge parking space. Shaking her head softly, Leila went to a strange, slim machine, whose doors slid open as she approached.
"Buckle up, don't want your blood or vomit all over the place," she commented, getting comfortable in the seat. Although Leila did not possess deep liking for technology, this vehicle was her baby.
Raphael Emmerich:
The elevator's steep fall reminded him of his own secret shaft at his home, albeit quieter and smoother. Still, his stomach felt like it shot into his throat, body not used to it. His power of mind was his strongest tool, but his mind was busy grasping his position. Realizing a rail had been grabbed reflexively, he cleared his throat to restore his dignity and stood to walk out with her. "...I already miss the Hornet." he murmered, seeing her vehicle. It brought a sense of familiarity. "Man... If only you knew how I drive." they had to dampen the cycle by a few hundred miles per hour in the day for stability's sake only. "Oh man... The Judge..." he started lamenting his vehicles already. Still, he slid into the seat begrudgingly, examining the gears and dials and whatever else the dashboard promised. He chuckled at an odd memory, lying to the Hourglass when he loaned her his bike during Ragnarok. /Here's the turrets, the accelerant, the flames--acceleration and break. Don't hit anything else. There's a self destruct button./ who DOES that?! She had demanded.
Leila Ragnarok:
The woman rose brow quizzically, maybe even a little annoyed, at his words. He seemed to be proud of his driving ability. Very proud, in fact. And his vehicles, as oddly as they were named. But, if she were to be honest with her self, both were things she deeply understood.
With quiet sound, seat belts slid across his chest, a little too tightly to be really comfortable, but in few seconds, Raphael was most likely thankful they were there. The vehicle shot up nearly vertically, flipping to side, to earn room where to spread small wings of sort. Then it's noise pointed to ground, smoothing into horizontal line seemingly a moment before unavoidable crash.
It moved fast, everything a blur behind the windows, but soon, they were not alone in the air, more vehicles running towards them, past them, crossing their path. In some maniacal way, Leila eased her way trough the stream, as if it was most common thing to do. Diving, moving side ways, rising above... Her face seemed to soften a little, as if she was enjoying her self.
One could say she really drove like a woman... Or maybe insane man.
"Music," she said softly, and record player began to work, first notes of some instrumental piece filling the vehicle. It was a piece with pan flute solo, a little like heartache or longing. But after that, something akin to doom metal began to play, powerful man's voice bringing forth quite deep words (although, they could be distinctly heard only when the lyrics were actually known).
As they neared a big city, with high peaks and towers, they slowed down, but only so much he could actually make out some of the scenery behind the window, which surely was not only bullet, but also explosion, acid and many other thing proof.
Raphael Emmerich:
Well, after pressing himself against his seat like he was part of it, and getting his heart to start working again, he took a few breaths and watched the other hovercars. "...meet george jetson." he jingled, even if the rest was somehow familiar. The metal startled him. "...and Dethklok." he blinked, trying to look out the window downward. "You still have... regular roads, right?" he gauged how far from the ground they were. "So... where are we going?" he raised his voice over the music.
Leila Ragnarok:
She looked sideways, not entirely understanding the reference, only that it could be not about the music, but more about the machine. But, at his correct recognition of the band playing, smile ghosted on her lips, although vanished quickly, when more intense dive - rise above - sideways combo had to be done.
"32," she said, and the music became more quiet, the number apparently meaning the one on sound scale.
"Yes, there are still roads. I could have used them, but it's faster this way." Leila could've mentioned she also liked to fly better - with vehicle or not -, but kept that to her self.
"To your house, or it's past location," the woman explained, doing a smooth turn and then shooting over some small round vehicle in neon green color. Something made a loud, beeping nose behind them and she rolled her eyes. Apparently, someone had blown 'horn' at her driving.
Raphael finally managed to measure how far they are from solid surface and it turned out to be a good deal of miles. Now, spanning from the city ahead, he saw many thin lines of roads and even smaller cars shooting up and down on them. Some were really colorful, but most looked dull. In fact, most of the surroundings seemed in toned-down colors.
As they flew closer, the vehicle moved towards ground, apparently to get into some kind of flying car flow, like second streets, high above the normal ones. After they went over the suburban area, which seemed to have small, round, white and colorful houses scattered all over it, each surrounded by small gardens, too green to seem natural or fit in, all the buildings seemed like skyscrapers or higher. Next on music playlist was female singer, with suicidal lyrics, but Leila ordered next song, before it played more than few lines. It happened to be a great cover of melody what could be recognized as "Autumn Leaves" by Eric Clapton with accordion and violin.
'Nearly there," she thought, now the speed being nearly normal, so she would more fit in the flow. Getting a speeding ticket of sorts was not in her to-do list for today. Then, she vehicle dove down, weaving between houses, that got shorter and shorter, as if someone had sprinkled a good deal of shrinking powder on this part of city.
Raphael Emmerich:
He tucked back in. He didn't necessarily have a fear of heights, but he had enough for his brain to digest right now, much less wondering how these cars handled turbulence. It was becoming increasingly clear that this was real; that, or a living dream. He normally would have been annoyed by her quiet demeanor, but it was peaceful as he assessed his position. He could bury her in questions, but if Level Nine still functioned he could get most answers himself. The house was surely age worn, but had stayed in the family for a few generations, much like the business that upkept it for a few decades. Sadly, eventually history was lost, and whoever had inherited the deed had sold it off as a historical find, and over time, it became slummy rental. It was already a giant affair, and the eight rooms and four bathrooms divided it into four apartments. His former garage, huge from workspace and for their collectors vehicles, was covered parking -- and a new tier supplied a few more living quarters. He twinged.
He already wanted to paint it and replace some boards. Still, he boldly went and knocked at the door, and rang a doorbell until an answer came. If she protested, he didn't hear. Whoever answered the door was pushed aside. He assessed the basic structure was the same, but it all needed sanding and reworking. He plowed towards the old laundry room in spite of protests, kicking through a door en route and applying his entire strength to pushing aside washers. The hidden door was jammed with age but a few shoulderbutts fixed that, and soon a button drew a whirring sound from an open shaft, where a rhudimentary elevator was rising to meet him. The revelation of the hidden chamber stifled protests with shock. With or without his new companion, he stepped into the old style shaft, and if she followed near, he nodded for her to stand next to him. She only had a few seconds to decide before it plummeted, quickly and noisily, a few hundred feet down.
Leila Ragnarok:
Without a moment of hesitation, Leila followed him. She only fell back a little, because she had to press button to lock the car, but after that, she was following Raphael on his heels. When the man standing in doors protested loudly at intruders, she pushed an ID card in his face, and he immediately shut up. Whatever she worked for was probably one of the biggest beasts among its kind. Top of the food chain.
Of course, she also stepped in the elevator with the newly reborn man, however due to her few stops, Leila was nearly too late, and her form seemed to blur briefly, but then she regained firm outline and footing, next to the man, giving a sarcastic wave to the confused, shocked, man above. Well, he had brought it upon him self, by informing their corporation of 'strange junk in the basement'.
'Woah,' was woman's first thought as she stepped out and took the sight in. Although in bad state, his headquarters of sorts were rather impressive. Especially taking note of the time they had been created at. In its glory days, this basement was surely something to be proud of. Maybe this Raphael character wasn't so empty brained after all.
Raphael Emmerich:
It's condition wasn't even that shoddy. The generators were still revving up, triggered by the elevator. It was the smaller of his two primary bases, but was still wider than the already large building outside. Flipping a light switch, oddly, most of the lights still worked. They hadn't had reason to burn out, and any that had were defects in the bulb. It was a filtered base, leaving little dust to settle, and minimized the effect of the elements. It was essentially an enormous block of steel, sectioned off. They descended first into a room of vehicles. Unless they had been comphiscated, it was a yellow and black sleek sports cycle, an orange musclecar with twirling black lines and "the judge" written near the headlights, a truck, and several odd accessories that the lights drew attention to. A massive gate waited to either side, the right already opened to a main area divided by sections of what looked like bullet proof glass. In one, a high pressure decontamination shower. another, old school machines (lathes and mills to make metal parts himself), and in another, something that looked like a small shooting range. The main area was halfly taken up by a computer mainframe that wrapped the corner, full of monitors of various sizes. "Dante, talk to me, baby." he spoke before ever reaching the computer. The glassy walls shimmered. agroserium tried to conduct a signal and the computer struggled to re activate with the power as it was programmed to. The responding voice was choppy, but Rafe dragged fingers over illuminated red basic boot up commands littered on the glass to give it a boot. -g, g, good morning, sire. I H, h, have not seen you for a while.- "Atta boy. Functional?" -Impaired. My internal clock seems to have run dry.- "...Not surprising." -Unidentified guest.- "Permitted." "Find a place to sit." there was only the computer chair and a gurney, on that front, but he shrugged. she could sit where she wanted. "Dante should help me sort myself out."
Leila Ragnarok:
And this all... is your handiwork?" she asked, looking about, her voice far more emotionless and unimpressed than she truly was. Although she lived in time of technology, where you could snap fingers and get practically anything, she recognized the power and thought that had to go into something like this. After all, Leila preferred to make and adjust things with her own hands, too, even that usually was switching someone's status down to 'dead'.
At the computer's voice, and Raphael's comment, woman crossed arms under her breasts. She had shed the laboratory coat somewhere, the gothic clothing out of place in the slightly rusty mech room. Somehow, she doubted the computer would have much, if any, correct information on what had occurred on the surface. But she wasn't about to get into discussion with a man, whose mind was set in history, and barely chirping computer.
"Great, that will maybe (this word was emphasized) save me getting you "Short history of Recovering medicine's effect on humankind in the last 200 years" which is about 500 pages thick."
The woman dusted off the computer chair, not caring if it would be more comfortable for him to have access to it, and sat down into it, crossing feet at ankles. She turned the chair slowly around few times, still taking in the scenery and expansions of her, invisible to the eye or sensors, slowly sneaked into every corner, every shadow, exploring, researching.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Eh. Mostly." he observed the read out. "This was my second base, after Emmerich Repairs." he spoke freely now, as reality settled on. Who did he need to protect? "The first was built by Leviathan Arms International under my rental property. But... when the sewers collapsed, I smuggled extra materials this way through the company and built it off of similar schematics. I used to work construction." among other things. "Jessie helped my build a new level nine for Dante." the computer, presumably. "...I cut and welded the pieces, he assembled them and transplanted the program." -Sir...- the computer seemed uncomfortable. Rafe's voice hit a deadpan. "It's fine, Dante." -No, not that. You appear so... Young.- "...that's what I was wondering. The last thing I remember was Steven returning from college... and Jared heading out. Load video feed starting a week after." -...Yes, sir.- the computer, bogged down with time and missing functions, popped multiple windows up on the main screen while re-initializing tasks and searching directories. "The clear walls.. Well, Agroserium was found by Jon. I'm just the one who figured out how to make it a resin for glass-like surfaces. Bulletproof and capable of carrying electrical signals. It's what I made the Accurst cockpit out of." he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "When was the last time Jessie logged in?" -That would be... august 27, 2033, when he retired and you left me to master Steven, Revenant II.- "...sounds right. Did he ever manage to be a botanist?" -Professor if biology, sir. How did you forget?- "...I'm not quite sure. Are you online?" -The internet? No, DNS protocol has changed.- "...Mm. They must have pulled data from the first Level Nine." -what data, sir?- "I'm still not sure." he turned to his new partner. "So you said... My 'immortality' interested them?" he snorted as if to scoff.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila tilted her head to the side slightly, listening to him. Rambler, apparently, no matter how sane or insane. Would this trait stay? If so, that would get on her nerves a little. But at least he wasn't asking questions, or expecting her to say anything. As an 'observation object', Raphael proved to be quite interesting. Her diary would get a nice, long entry tonight.
She listened to the man and artificial intelligence discussion. For the time they both came from, it had to be something like from fictional movie. Iron man? Batman? Some of their super heroes that she never remembered names of. Now everyone of importance was a super hero. Or super villain. Yes, more like a villain. And there were nowhere near enough the good kind to bring order, happiness and peace to world.
When his attention turned back to her, Leila shrugged and spun so she was facing him. Barely unnoticeable move, but she flicked the wrist and the thic bracelet grew dim, gaining color of coal.
"Yes. From what I know, Levianthan arms international crumbled, later followed by Lode Corp in its demise, the latter partially due to processes that washed over the whole world." The woman paused, wondering if the computer had any information on that, but hopefully uninterrupted, continued.
"People responsible for your project died, more or less naturally, however some branches, their documents and machines were sold to various sides of world. Traces of your 'copy' lingered, but until this bunk was found, they passed unnoticed. Then your name caught attention, and the corporation holding the project was about to begin realizing it, but was..." she smirked, "persuaded into selling it. That happened about 2 years ago."
Again, a moment of silence. "You are the fifth one, they are nervously waiting for you to have a mental or physical break down. But if you don't, then it's proof any big guy can eventually afford to have his mind copied, planted into some cloned super-man's body with any chosen power."
"I am sure you understand what it means. There is always a backup copy, and when the body is getting old, the big boss just gets a new one, even better than the last, maybe. Mind copies are nothing new, but until now, they have always been put into virtual reality. Merging it with real body has never had successful results. You're a miracle, a gift of God, if any of them believe in other god than themselves."
Leila shook head slightly, looking at him trough few silvery bangs. "But in few month's or year's time, you could grow unnecessary. Know too much, involved too deep. You better find a really (emphasized, again) good reason for them to keep you around, big guy."
Honestly, she was bored. It was dancing on edge that gave her the needed adrenaline rush Leila was used to. And there had been far too little of such exercises during these 2, maybe even 4 months. She told him this, warned him, not because she felt particular care or worry, for this reborn man, but because the higher ups would not be entirely pleased, yet, have no reason to even seriously scold her. It was like taunting them, showing the middle finger. What's even more, they most likely heard nothing of this conversation, the little recorder in her bracelet turned off. So, they could only speculate. Smirk tugged the woman's mouth corners upward again. Yes, that was certainly worth speaking uncharacteristicly much.
Raphael Emmerich:
By all odds they had lost her signal entirely. It was built as a bomb shelter. "I don't believe in god." he countered. "Or maybe I could say, I don't think god believes in us. Dante, minimize my files for later viewing. Display Ragnarok, as by Lode's satellite." the computer audibly confirmed, signal fritzing before showing a blackened earth, with storm of blackest pitch, deeper than the depth of night at planet's edge, highlighted only in faces. "Process that swept the planet... God. Dante, find record of penetration of the abomination." the reel fast forwarded, and a rare gap in the clouds revealed cyclones of steel and death, with rivers washing in blood and the seas turning black. Chaos rained as all sides held their own stands in the front. "Dante, Ophois and Athena." the camera panned, glitching heavily as it had suffered interference. A mechanical white wolf man glossed heroically, paused on for a moment before panning and zooming in the same frame to a tangle of black and red ribbons. "That little witch skinned the Ophois suit from Jon and gave it to another. That is to say how LAI fell. As for Lode Corp," the satellite saw a tremendous red blaze, and then the signal was dead. "This was only retrieved from delayed ping to a neighboring satellite. Lode finally died, after his HQ was shred. Cut feed." and then the window closed. "How is that... For your records?" he hoisted a brow her way as if to challenge. "Whoever tried to replicate me before must'a fucked up. Because me? Nobody controls me. Not you, not the government, and not God. You want my secret? That's my secret. Now figure it out." he paused, rubbing his temples and taking a breath. Calm. Losing control was against the point. "This is a bit much. I'm about to try to get Dante functioning again. If you can give me a net capable device for him to analyze with--and hopefully his connections are still valid--you won't have to worry about connections from me. ...besides. I need time to find out about my life, and you don't seem like the type to be interested." he snorted. "Besides... You want a reason for me to stick... It seems like I have another lifetime of training to catch back up on. Dante... Upside down." that might be confusing, until Rafe promptly put himself in a headstand against the wall, as it was evident he lacked the strength to do it freely as he once had. Video feed upside down, apparently he was reviewing whatever he had missed.
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila laughed a short, dry laugh. Her eyes narrowed then, and mouth formed thin line, as if something had stung her, and the girl leaned back in the chair, resting head against the chair.
"So, you and me do have something in common, big guy. We are our own people, however it may seem."
At his request, she got up and placed a small device on the table. It would be something like evolved version of an iPhone or the like, but with apparently no data, rather than all the needed protocols to access Internet with. In fact, it could be used only once or twice, for call or message. The perfect thing to stay anonymous with. Leila always kept a few somewhere.
"Will do? If not, don't have anything better for you."
"I would leave you in this pleasant company, but I ought to stay, but don't mind me," she added, sitting back in the chair, her shadow on the floor swaying for half a second. Then casually, she pulled out earphones and listened to music, but it was only delusion for fools, to think that she did not see each his move. And in fact, she saw what was on the screen for him mostly as well, even if her eyes physically was not in the right angle for that. That's why Leila seemed to get lost in the music, as information was streamed from Shadow's eyes to hers.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Lady... You have no idea." the secret of the undying Wraith was based on that more wholy than many would understand. She probably noticed his arms start to tremor, what with lack of use and the current strain. "Pain... Is just weakness... Leaving the body." he strained out meekly, for himself more than her. The cameras depicted ages of busy life, skipping certain cycles by verbal cue. By all rights after hours blood should have rushed to his head and blacked him out, but... Somehow he stayed conscious and alive. The power of mind was just as important as of body, even if one was suddenly lacking. A few new births were seen, and other new faces of adoptees even into their fiftieth year, when they finally stopped for fear of being unable to live to support them. Weddings and anniversaries were bold affairs. Birthdays were parties even before friends. His family was what drove him to be a vigilante, unlike many. There were pets... Many, many pets. Some dogs goony, others tame. Cats, unidentifiable rodents and more. There was the first time he killed a human being, at 55--impressive with his profession--when Ivan Sokolov finally tried to strike back, and he snapped the man's neck while in civilian mode at home to defend his wife, seeming to instantly suit up as if growing a second skin to drag the bomb ridden corpse out before the house shook from explosion. "Knew I'd get that son of a bitch." or the moments of surprise... Like seeing Nin Akadochi at his table. Children grew and moved on, and by late in the film he lost reason to watch his domestic life, as apparently he had outlived his wife due to physical condition. Again rare in his life path. Then? He flipped down, cracking his neck. "Mm." he stood and popped out his back, but his arms were slow to respond and numb. He walked to her, if she was still awake and so on. "Hey. He said they'd get me what I need. I want ownership of this place back." Dante had been doing his own work meanwhile, assessing and recalibrating. -It seems the fiber optic cables are old, but I can sustain a basic connection.- that would have to do for now. "You'll need an update." but... He had no idea where to start, considering his idea of technology was fairly dated now. "See if you can find what Emmerich Repairs evolved into, Dante. It had to go somewhere, and if it's worth a damn I'm suing for ownership. Passing it in my will is irrelevent if I'm not dead, isn't it?" -about that, sir. This date is... Illogical.- Rafe grinned. "We get you up to snuff and I'm sure we can find whatever data we need for you to make sense of it." the computer only... Beeped, settling into silence. "And me... I'm going to need resistance training, a good old bed of coals, and a few other things," he addressed the woman. "But that can wait." for now, grievances were past. There was no use crying over a life already lived and fully, when it wasn't coming back. "Seems like I've got a point to make."
Leila Ragnarok:
Sometime during the movie, Leila got up and took a look around, not paying much attention to the screen anymore. While people, their past and personality rose an interest her, similar to that of doctors in asylum, watching his life lost its charm rather soon. Trough it, she could hardly learn something about the time Raphael had lived in, or about him - except that he had been happy. And quite powerful. But that last fact she knew already.
After inspecting the vehicles - which had been made copy of and could be found at their base as well - and few other things, the woman returned to the seat. She heard every word spoke trough the soft music and when the man finally decided to give it a rest, she opened eyes before he even made a move towards the chair.
"Yes, for now, they will give you anything you want. Except me off of your back and you - off of their lists."
Leila smiled nearly sincere smile, but something felt off in it, maybe her empty, dead like eyes, that gave the smile eerie feel.
"And for now, you will have to stay at the starting point of our journey," she added a moment later. She had been given permission to drag him back by force, if needed. No one was interested in letting him completely free on his own at least a week after 'birthday'.
Raphael Emmerich:
She, too, might detect something off about him. Upon waking, through the confusion he had fiery eyes, and a voice full of conviction be it right or wrong. He was oddly lulled now, with the calm tone of his voice matching an odd dulling of otherwise crisp blue eyes. Raphael had no dinner to attend. No parent teacher conferences. No particular reason to lighten his mood. They were worried over his stability. Perhaps the others they hadn't allowed what he had gotten, today. "And if I refuse?" it was blank and quiet. He turned about to check a few compartments. "Dante... where did I store Dragon?" -Dragon, last initialized 2038. I believe you housed it in compartment C-12, sir.- Rafe ended up under the computer. "Oh... Look at that. My gloves, too." he supposed he had gotten a little old for biker gloves. He stayed laid out beneath the desk, and as he slid back out he was applying slightly loose, black fingerless gloves. -You also recalibrated the launch sequence after a few erronious revelations. It is the original entry, then reverse and forward again.- "Good to know." -Sire... Your electromagnetic field seems weaker than it has been in several years of recordings.- "I'll fix that."
Leila Ragnarok:
"I will take you back," Leila shrugged. She wasn't surprised by his question, had half expected it, even.
"Fancy artificial intelligence and good old walls won't help you. Besides, it's in your interests to return - you will receive medical care and you can ask whatever you want your self. Don't rely on my tongue to deliver things correctly."
The young woman stood up, tip toed and spread her arms for moment, as if about to embrace something, then set them down to her sides. Again, she tilted head to the side, as if listening to something - the earphones had disappeared somewhere in her clothing a while ago.
They chose her, because she was one of the few in their reach, who could put him in line by force, when Raphael reached full potential. Maybe only one. Leila was good not only at killing, her powers worked for weakening, restraining, moving... Many things. If he would stay with this corporations, they would become... rival of sorts, maybe, for the top position, the trust.
She Needed to be the very best, until she had the chance to see the chairman wither on floor in agony, life slowly leaving his eyes, death coming as relief. Then... one down, one more to go. But that would be achieved with different name, different looks. And he would know what was coming for him. He would know, he would hide, scream... And die. No mercy. Ever. Pity, like pain, was unneeded, had to be crushed and banished, it only held one back down.
"You're coming now, or you need an hour?"
Raphael Emmerich:
He grinned crookedly, almost acidically. "Don't doubt the power in these old walls. Ten feet of steel, a few hundred feet of magnetic sand outside and ocean dissonance for a start. If I choose, I could kill you and no one would hear you scream." it was a largely hollow threat. He had strict non-fatality rules. "You know, I can say one thing." he put a hand to his side. "Until entering mindstate which makes it irrelevent, I had no rib pain. Kudos." ever since Ragnarok, the shattered ribs always ached a bit. Well, until in 'mindstate', whatever that was. Perhaps it had to do with his change in demeanor. "I'll come along. I need a few things that are best handed across in person. I know my technology is outdated and I have a few technical requests. I don't enjoy being a guinea pig, but I might as well play along." he was a fish out of water. "Dante confirmed: you are not lying, or tricking me somehow. It is what it is. I have no one to go home to, and thus, no reason currently to resist." but... Bland tone or not, that did not seem like a permanent agreement.
Leila Ragnarok:
"If you think that, then you must be judging book by it's cover," Leila commented dryly. He was weak, untrained, and just some mental preparations and man's strength wouldn't be enough to finish her off. Or even give her a real trouble. She could now show off, disappear and next moment make him bend three times over, with knife at his throat, but girl decided to keep her cards hidden for now. She didn't show off her powers much, many thought it was various martial arts and chemistry knowledge that made her what she was.
She didn't mind that, with titles 'mistress of secrecy and poisons, ruler of night and its shadows' and few other that were handed down from generation to generation, one did not desire attention drawn. Especially when the goal was such as hers.
"Don't add me to that lot, tho'," she said suddenly, when heading for the elevator. She didn't like being counted among the many scientists with no worries other than their butts.
Raphael Emmerich:
His eyes closed, face speaking of amusement. It was a far more smug persona than he had entered the world with. "I have what I need... save for perhaps a change of clothes." the decontamination chamber en route to the elevator had shelving units for clothing changes. Nothing special. Faded and torn jeans and equally beaten tops and button ups. Largely preserved by the shelter's clean air, they had faded. That didn't mean they were in good shape. He had always been the most blue collar, white collar man around. He followed into the elevator, and as it rose, well... Having no particular idea of shame in his mindset, he shrugged off his hospital supply garb and pulled on battered jeans, a bit large for him considering his muscular girth being down, and a dark blue Tee shirt with the S.H.I.E.L.D emblem from avengers printed on the front. He never really grew up. A white shirt with faded pinstripe was thrown over, but not buttoned up. The rest was slung over his arm. Hopefully she didn't mind being trapped in a small chamber with a briefly naked man... Or the way the thing wobbled dangerously as he hopped on each foot to apply worn sneakers. "Much better." he let out a sigh of relief, and like a light switch as the doors opened there was a dopey smile to his face and a light in his eyes. "So... Could they, like... Bring my wife back?" annnd here come the questions as his mood shifts. Of course, such was improbable. She was never really recorded digitally.
Leila Ragnarok, Narrator:
"Looks like basics of respect and politeness were lost in the transplanting." Her voice was cold, expression unchanging, as if making observation, although maybe faint blush crept to her cheeks, but it would be unnoticeable in this light. Despite the swaying of the cabin she managed to stand still, as if the movement upwards was smooth.
"I will have someone teach you using table utensils and toilet again. That information must have been lost, too, if you can act like this."
Without saying anything else, she got into the car and as soon as he got in the seat, the vehicle took off, in the same gut shaking manner. This time, there was no music, no sound except the soft humming of engines.
If there had been some small thought that he might not be so bad as a person, this little act most likely destroyed even faintest trace of it. Deep down, Leila was a lady, and while she didn't proceed to follow every step of etiquette, her disrespected was only given in words, and became personal only after she had been insulted.
In same silent manner, they arrived and went up the elevator. She went with him to the cabinet of Mr. Johnson and gave him a simple message: "brought your precious baby back. Social mind sector seems to be failing. My job's done for the day, DON'T call me sooner than 8am tomorrow."
With that, Leila left. If she was really gone, scientist had no idea, and that always gave him creeps. She could be staring from any dark corner now. Nervously, he turned another lamp on and then went towards Raphael.
"Come, come, this way, I will show you your new room," he smiled and hurriedly went down the corridor.
Raphael Emmerich:
Rafe paused, and he seemed to click on what he was being scolded over. He turned more noticeably red. "Oh, I..." he resorted to an odd stutter. "Um... Sorry. I just... Kind of... Do whatever I think I need to... When in training--training mode." he cleared his throat and deflected his gaze away from her, face still lit up like a stoplight. "Nobody wants to see my pasty ass. Mybad." he followed in silence, stewing in blatant embarassment until meeting the scientist again. He didn't like him. He couldn't peg why, but the man bothered him. "Um... Can you not shine that in my face?" he squinted, putting up a hand defensively. "Before you put me in a playpen... I wanted to ask about some... stuff." yes, 'stuff'. No 'thus' or 'howevers' or demanding tone here.
Narrator:
"Oh, sorry, sorry, of course!" The man, nearly stumbling, rushed back and turned the lamp away from Raphael's face and tumbled in his seat. "Sit down and let's talk about anything you want, my boy. We are here to give what we possibly can to you! And believe me, that's a lot!"
The man laughed and rubbed forehead. While it was little known fact, in truth he was not the very head of this project, just one of the pawns. Fretting over his seat was a common thing to do for many here, and these fears possessed Magnus Johnson more than greed for money, fame and power. The science mattered to him much less than what he could achieve with it, how he could shine. Unfortunately, nature had not given him any bright talented, so the man had gone trough long struggle to be where he was now. And just as long, to remain there. This project was his big chance. In more ways than one.
"I hope... Miss Ragnarok did not bother you? She can be..." Magnus coughed and nervously glanced about, "a bit overwhelming at times. Did she tell you the basics? Take you for a tour?"
Raphael Emmerich:
He looked around, briefly uncertain. Taking a long breath, his idea of a seat was odd. He appeared to sit indian style square on the floor, hands stuck between his legs and spread out to prop him several inches above the floor. He didn't need to be tripping over his own words here, and the best way to mentally suit up without physically doing so was to train, as it was the quickest trigger. "As a beginning, I want my old house. The deed, signed over to me, no fine print. Secondly, I need the most modern schematics of vehicles you can assign me, so I can get a handle on just what has changed in my absence. Thirdly, I want to know, exactly, how many of me you have exterminated and what their trespasses were. I suspect a few of them simply did not enjoy your idea of protocol." his arms finally gave out, but it was an awkward position from the start. He would not request a techie here. He wouldn't give them that power over him. He stood. "...treat me like a human being rather than a lab rat and I may be able to give you what you don't even realize you are missing. I only need one day of food until you discharge me. The rest, I fast." training all over again. Might as well, if he's to be caged. "I may make certain requests in that time. For now, I'll see my limits." when the ego was loaned full control, he was another man entirely than he was in spirit.
Narrator:
The man was nervously playing with his own thumbs as they spoke. Nodding too enthusiastically trough the speech, he waited for Raphael to finish and then got up.
"But of course, dear boy, you are no lab rat to us, we hope that you will become a precious partner here, in Zofie Corporation, when you have settled in these new settings!" He smiled again, too wide.
"House will be signed over to you tomorrow's morning, first thing, and you shall be given documents on records about previous... versions," Johnson stumbled a little at last word. "As well as any equipment you desire."
"However," the man nervously started, "I hope you don't mind Miss Ragnarok's presence. I have little power over that, Mr. Emmerich." He cringed, again a nervous glance around. If it was up to him, she would leave with this man, and Never, Ever return. "She is assigned as your partner and guide, and not by my word."
Raphael Emmerich:
"You could only sound more scripted if you read from a teleprompter." he didn't sound enthused. Still, he nodded, keeping personal intent close to his chest. No point in being forward in his plans on eventually ditching them. "After a few days I will need a bed of nails, and of coals. For now, my body and a few meals to begin is enough." perhaps the doctor can detect a distinct difference in the man's demeanor. "And of course the documents. Now... Where is my cage?" put that as they will, he saw it like that all the same.
Narrator:
The man was clearly puzzled about the shifts in Raphael's attitude. He couldn't follow it, and that scared him further, since he was unable to predict the next move. 'Maybe this version is defected, too', Magnus thought.
"No cage for you, of course," he tried to sound enthusiastic, but without much success, leaving the room. Chattering meaningless things about the building, doctor led Raphael to a door, just as merged in wall as others. When opened, it revealed medium sized room, in white and silver, with bed, desk at window - which could not be opened -, few chairs. And door, that most likely led to bathroom. There was also bookshelf with some books and newspaper.
"If you need anything, the door onto right always has a nurse or two, you can ask them anything," he explained. "Now, good night!" And he hurried off, as if some beast from nightmares were chasing him.
From ceiling of the corridor, two invisible eyes watched how Raphael went in and shut the doors. They had witnessed the conversation and most likely, would watch over him further, too. The being slid away, but a new one appeared in the room, unnoticed and unknown, hidden in the corner. If anything of importance happened, Mistress would know it in a blink.
Raphael Emmerich:
He imagined the state of the place fairly well--a gussied up cage. No real exit, a bland environment, but that was fine enough. He filed through newspapers absently, reading the state of the world if they were up to date. He only occupied himself till dinner, and opted to sleep on the floor instead of in comfort, militaristic discipline putting him out quickly and in by early morning he was up naturally, going through routines of exercises. He waited to see if anyone held up to their bargain on paperwork, and spend the better part of the morning stiff as a board, propped up from the ground by one arm at a time, the opposite behind the back. He had spent months training in a cluster of wilderness similarly. He considered it reprising of training. Where else did he have to go? So... Staring at the door, guessing the passing of morning.
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok:
Johnson brought papers, all signed and completed, to him around midday. He apologized few times for being late, and Raphael guessed it could be because the previous owner had felt a little uncontent with initial offer. Not from the fool town probably, possibly figured how to milk the company more. With the documents, also came small map of papers concerning previous experiment outcomes. There were few results, apparently. Four previous merging attempts. Two never woke up, the mind and body refusing each other and gradually falling apart. After a while, they were taken off life support. The next one, went mad the moment he opened eyes. Thrashing, screaming and attacking scientists. Apparently, the reason for restrains he had encountered upon waking. Papers said he was treated well, in corporations personal hospital.
The one before him, had nearly visibly stiff information. After seemingly coping well, with the information dosage, he had caved in under the reality and stress few hours later, in city, "nearly causing a horrible crash with the vehicle he was in". No more information, but the most likely he had been killed. Or died naturally, brains and heart going highwire.
Whenever Raphael left the room, visibly or unnoticeably, Leila was around somewhere. Her presence followed him, even after the man was released to go to his 'new' old home, and even if she was in physical form, she remained silent. What ever he needed - be it paint, wooden boards, bed of coals, tech plans - all of it was supplied, and maybe, just maybe, her small finger helped the process move more quickly and smoothly. There was a line on her, too, in the papers, but it was brief and only mentioned she was to be assigned as any working 'prototype's partner'.
He remained somewhat intriguing observation object for the woman. His progress... was unnaturally fast. As talented and mentally prepared he came in this world, it was hard to believe how quickly he was developing, returning to his former form. She would refuse to believe, if it didn't happen before her very own eyes. Clearly, a trait that could deal him a permanent spot. Leila was not entirely pleased with the fact, for her feelings were rather split, swaying between cold neutrality and sprouts of dislike. She also observed something that had not been noted in most papers about Raphael's mindset - there was some kind of parts to him, not a solid personality that could be trusted to rule troughout the whole encounter. More reason for tension and annoyance from her side.
Raphael Emmerich:
Even when he had a girlfriend, not yet wife, he went into seclusion. They seemed convinced he would break down, and history in the papers, reviewed more than once at the desk, made it clear why. He left the room only when he had to. He took a week without food after his first day, figuring his body could use that much. But ignoring the strain, pain, and exhaustion was crucial. He finally conceded. If he wanted to perfect the body, after days of training, it needed sustenance to build and grow. After several days of rotation between arms, legs, abdomen and everything in between, the burning muscles needed repair. The militaristic schedule cracked, and with it the cold mentality. He leaned against the door, winded, before finally changing into another shirt, a faded "WW(batsignal)D?" shirt. She had little reason to see him personally. Exhausted, and out of 'mental uniform', his eyes still had more spark. His face wasn't as hardened or strained, just weary. "...I could use... a nice high protein, high carb meal. ...please don't chill the drink." and all at once knees tried to buckle, as if he suddenly remembered he was human. Oops. And once he had 'clocked out', burning with weakness, he didn't find it as easy to click back in. He was conscious and... Throwing up stomach acid right outside his room. Watch your shoes.
Leila Ragnarok:
"I am not your maid," she replied simply, one leg propped up against the wall, as she leaned on it. Today she had gathered all the hair in long ponytail, no bangs around her face, making her glare even more direct. Arms were crossed, as Raphel spoke, but when he fell, Leila threw them up in annoyed manner.
A minute later, she returned with towel and bottle of water, the first thrown at him unceremoniously, avoiding the spot on floor. "By all means, you just might match me in obsession level," she murmured, more to her self than him, putting bottle on the table.
"Nurse will get you your drink soon, and clean up the mess."
Raphael Emmerich:
"Can you think of anything better for me to be doing?" he laughed tiredly, deciding to sit and slump against the wall, only to intercept a rag and toss it at the mess. "Worst case scenario... I kill myself by trying too hard." he tugged at the corner of his gloves absently. "I won't give anyone else the chance at that. So... How much longer are they going to stare at me through cameras?"
Leila Ragnarok:
Casually, she sat on the corner of the table, shrugging.
"You could find first if this effort has got a point or the world now has different set of rules." If he did not get his suit or whatever back, and a good batch of medicine on top, even being muscle mass would not secure him a safe spot anywhere at all. A human was only discardable pile of junk in this world, in the end.
"But, well, none of my business, lad," Leila shrugged. "And probably the rest of your life, in some way." She had thought that was clear by now, from what had been said and shown to him.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Tch. You still don't get it, do you?" he smiled, as if knowing something she didnt. He might be exhausted, but held some bit of mischief. "Like you know so damn much... And you guys miss the simplest detail." he held up his hand to portray a centimeter of nothing between his fingers. So close, "right there. Under your noses." it made him giggle, which turned into a cough. "Hopefully... for all of your lenses and doctors," he pushed up tiredly, "You'll start to get just how I tick. So set in what you know... You won't stop to think that what you want with me is what you don't know. Now someone had better give me a mission or something interesting, or I will show that I'm very, very able to get out of here and away from you."
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila resisted urge to roll eyes at his pompous ways. They seemed... unfit, for this large man, now a slumped pile of tiredness. However, if he had to be compared to puzzle, then that of a large scaled labyrinth, or maybe optical illusion.
"They are not a mind reader, but the Doc could fetch one, specially for your high and mighty rear-end. You think you're pulling everyone by their noses, but one call, and you're without any cover, protection. Like the baby you are right now. Maybe they just let you think that they know nothin'." Stubbornly, she refused to count her self in with the others, with "them".
It wouldn't be hard, to destroy his Alfred and other bunks, with all they contained. And then trace him down. What he didn't know, that as moment passed, each his heartbeat and other impulses were recorded in device, set deep in his body. The way it would be practically impossible to remove, without killing even his alter-ego. Maybe he knew, maybe his fancy computer had told him, but most likely not. Made to be untraceable except for their machines, it was. And Leila had exclusive control and access to it. Supposedly, she could make his heart stop beating - right then and there, with a simple command.
"But you will get action, sure, when gust of wind won't blow you off your feet. This might not be the way to get there, tho'."
Raphael Emmerich:
There was something different about this cockiness. He didn't have the cold or callous eyes, but a careless grin and an impish look. "I might underestimate you... But anyone who sees me like an infant? Clearly only worked with a bad copy. Test me, threaten me, try to make me insecure. You're talking to a man with nothing to lose. You guys... Well, it's pretty clear I'm not an easy make. You're more disposable to me than I am to you. How many billions of dollars and years have you wasted trying so far? How many more dice rolls will it take to make it work again? I think it is those who want my secret who should be more willing to admit they're at a loss. Worst case, I go back to sleep." forever. He wasn't necessarily suicidal, but he had no reason to fight for anything but his ego. Just how valuable that was, they still didn't seem to understand. "The way I figure it, I'm only expendable once they have what they want. Until they have that... I'm what you call an enigma--an abnormality--a break in the equasion. A variable changes everything you know. I know you have all the cards. The difference is... I'm both batman and the joker."
Leila Ragnarok:
She smiled that hollow smile again, this time some true amusement spilling into it. "Oh, you're underestimating indeed. They're on the roll. Next version would be more... perfect. Maybe they would even manage to brainwash this rebelliousness out. For a test."
"No matter how much they spend, they will get it ten, twenty times back when this is completed, with few orders. And they aren't going to tiptoe and guess what makes you worthy to be kept, so, go ahead and show them." Leila stood up, dusting off invisible particles from her clothes.
"I'll be waiting, if no one else." She headed for the doors, pausing briefly before exiting.
"And for the memo, if you tremble in fear or boast is not my field of interest. Perceive me as a computer, who gives you information, not caring what you do with it." Then she was out, having told in her way that she did not try to intimidate him, or pressure him, about twenty seconds before nurse entered. The woman was young and caring, quickly cleaning the mess, bringing a tray with the ordered drink and expressing quite genuine concern for Raphael.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Brainwash him. You'll realize you eliminated what you seek. If your standards have failed, maybe your experiments aren't the failure, but the idiots at the helm." a brainwashed wraith was... Well, lacking the traits they sought. Still the point escaped them. He let her leave, and looked to the nurse. "How can so many people with a high I.Q. Have the collective wit of a frog?" he addressed the attendant. Regardless, he repeated his request for a meal. He would wait at least that long before putting this place behind him.
Leila Ragnarok, Narrator:
"Uhm, sir, if Miss Ragnarok annoyed you, I am sorry," the nurse bowed head. "She is not witless, though..." the woman trailed off, and then scurried off, leaving him alone with high carb, high protein drink, to fetch some easy to digest and swallow food, which was brought in few minutes later.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop, Leila was digging trough the seriously lacking file package on Mr. Emmerich. Her phone beeped, and after glancing at the number, she picked up, brow slightly furrowing.
"If he wants me to stay put, at least get me all the information. And I mean ALL of it. Or else the fish just might slip trough the net. Give me all you have on Wraith Beknight and more. I don't care if you have to raise another dead to get it." With that, the call was dropped. The person on end didn't have as much as chance to interrupt her.
There was something, in what Raphael had said today, that ticked her off... Because, to certain extent - he was right. They were ignoring few major facts about the man. He could be used more than just a revived guinea pig. But this vigilante needed a drive...
"Let's see just what you can pull of, Emmerich," Leila murmured softly, tapping on her knee, eyes traveling down the newly arrived fresh batch of information. Honestly, she was going out of her way already, and it was hard to pinpoint why.
However it may be, the next day there were seemingly no traces of the woman nearby Raphael. Maybe to a different personality it would cause a certain feel of emptiness, when the only firm thing from the beginning of his new life was gone, but doubtfully such feelings settled in his heart. And somewhere, she was having a cold dispute trough hologram call over said experiment object. "... If you want to keep and exploit him to the maximum, this is what you ought to do..."
He grinned crookedly, almost acidically. "Don't doubt the power in these old walls. Ten feet of steel, a few hundred feet of magnetic sand outside and ocean dissonance for a start. If I choose, I could kill you and no one would hear you scream." it was a largely hollow threat. He had strict non-fatality rules. "You know, I can say one thing." he put a hand to his side. "Until entering mindstate which makes it irrelevent, I had no rib pain. Kudos." ever since Ragnarok, the shattered ribs always ached a bit. Well, until in 'mindstate', whatever that was. Perhaps it had to do with his change in demeanor. "I'll come along. I need a few things that are best handed across in person. I know my technology is outdated and I have a few technical requests. I don't enjoy being a guinea pig, but I might as well play along." he was a fish out of water. "Dante confirmed: you are not lying, or tricking me somehow. It is what it is. I have no one to go home to, and thus, no reason currently to resist." but... Bland tone or not, that did not seem like a permanent agreement.
Leila Ragnarok:
"If you think that, then you must be judging book by it's cover," Leila commented dryly. He was weak, untrained, and just some mental preparations and man's strength wouldn't be enough to finish her off. Or even give her a real trouble. She could now show off, disappear and next moment make him bend three times over, with knife at his throat, but girl decided to keep her cards hidden for now. She didn't show off her powers much, many thought it was various martial arts and chemistry knowledge that made her what she was.
She didn't mind that, with titles 'mistress of secrecy and poisons, ruler of night and its shadows' and few other that were handed down from generation to generation, one did not desire attention drawn. Especially when the goal was such as hers.
"Don't add me to that lot, tho'," she said suddenly, when heading for the elevator. She didn't like being counted among the many scientists with no worries other than their butts.
Raphael Emmerich:
His eyes closed, face speaking of amusement. It was a far more smug persona than he had entered the world with. "I have what I need... save for perhaps a change of clothes." the decontamination chamber en route to the elevator had shelving units for clothing changes. Nothing special. Faded and torn jeans and equally beaten tops and button ups. Largely preserved by the shelter's clean air, they had faded. That didn't mean they were in good shape. He had always been the most blue collar, white collar man around. He followed into the elevator, and as it rose, well... Having no particular idea of shame in his mindset, he shrugged off his hospital supply garb and pulled on battered jeans, a bit large for him considering his muscular girth being down, and a dark blue Tee shirt with the S.H.I.E.L.D emblem from avengers printed on the front. He never really grew up. A white shirt with faded pinstripe was thrown over, but not buttoned up. The rest was slung over his arm. Hopefully she didn't mind being trapped in a small chamber with a briefly naked man... Or the way the thing wobbled dangerously as he hopped on each foot to apply worn sneakers. "Much better." he let out a sigh of relief, and like a light switch as the doors opened there was a dopey smile to his face and a light in his eyes. "So... Could they, like... Bring my wife back?" annnd here come the questions as his mood shifts. Of course, such was improbable. She was never really recorded digitally.
Leila Ragnarok, Narrator:
"Looks like basics of respect and politeness were lost in the transplanting." Her voice was cold, expression unchanging, as if making observation, although maybe faint blush crept to her cheeks, but it would be unnoticeable in this light. Despite the swaying of the cabin she managed to stand still, as if the movement upwards was smooth.
"I will have someone teach you using table utensils and toilet again. That information must have been lost, too, if you can act like this."
Without saying anything else, she got into the car and as soon as he got in the seat, the vehicle took off, in the same gut shaking manner. This time, there was no music, no sound except the soft humming of engines.
If there had been some small thought that he might not be so bad as a person, this little act most likely destroyed even faintest trace of it. Deep down, Leila was a lady, and while she didn't proceed to follow every step of etiquette, her disrespected was only given in words, and became personal only after she had been insulted.
In same silent manner, they arrived and went up the elevator. She went with him to the cabinet of Mr. Johnson and gave him a simple message: "brought your precious baby back. Social mind sector seems to be failing. My job's done for the day, DON'T call me sooner than 8am tomorrow."
With that, Leila left. If she was really gone, scientist had no idea, and that always gave him creeps. She could be staring from any dark corner now. Nervously, he turned another lamp on and then went towards Raphael.
"Come, come, this way, I will show you your new room," he smiled and hurriedly went down the corridor.
Raphael Emmerich:
Rafe paused, and he seemed to click on what he was being scolded over. He turned more noticeably red. "Oh, I..." he resorted to an odd stutter. "Um... Sorry. I just... Kind of... Do whatever I think I need to... When in training--training mode." he cleared his throat and deflected his gaze away from her, face still lit up like a stoplight. "Nobody wants to see my pasty ass. Mybad." he followed in silence, stewing in blatant embarassment until meeting the scientist again. He didn't like him. He couldn't peg why, but the man bothered him. "Um... Can you not shine that in my face?" he squinted, putting up a hand defensively. "Before you put me in a playpen... I wanted to ask about some... stuff." yes, 'stuff'. No 'thus' or 'howevers' or demanding tone here.
Narrator:
"Oh, sorry, sorry, of course!" The man, nearly stumbling, rushed back and turned the lamp away from Raphael's face and tumbled in his seat. "Sit down and let's talk about anything you want, my boy. We are here to give what we possibly can to you! And believe me, that's a lot!"
The man laughed and rubbed forehead. While it was little known fact, in truth he was not the very head of this project, just one of the pawns. Fretting over his seat was a common thing to do for many here, and these fears possessed Magnus Johnson more than greed for money, fame and power. The science mattered to him much less than what he could achieve with it, how he could shine. Unfortunately, nature had not given him any bright talented, so the man had gone trough long struggle to be where he was now. And just as long, to remain there. This project was his big chance. In more ways than one.
"I hope... Miss Ragnarok did not bother you? She can be..." Magnus coughed and nervously glanced about, "a bit overwhelming at times. Did she tell you the basics? Take you for a tour?"
Raphael Emmerich:
He looked around, briefly uncertain. Taking a long breath, his idea of a seat was odd. He appeared to sit indian style square on the floor, hands stuck between his legs and spread out to prop him several inches above the floor. He didn't need to be tripping over his own words here, and the best way to mentally suit up without physically doing so was to train, as it was the quickest trigger. "As a beginning, I want my old house. The deed, signed over to me, no fine print. Secondly, I need the most modern schematics of vehicles you can assign me, so I can get a handle on just what has changed in my absence. Thirdly, I want to know, exactly, how many of me you have exterminated and what their trespasses were. I suspect a few of them simply did not enjoy your idea of protocol." his arms finally gave out, but it was an awkward position from the start. He would not request a techie here. He wouldn't give them that power over him. He stood. "...treat me like a human being rather than a lab rat and I may be able to give you what you don't even realize you are missing. I only need one day of food until you discharge me. The rest, I fast." training all over again. Might as well, if he's to be caged. "I may make certain requests in that time. For now, I'll see my limits." when the ego was loaned full control, he was another man entirely than he was in spirit.
Narrator:
The man was nervously playing with his own thumbs as they spoke. Nodding too enthusiastically trough the speech, he waited for Raphael to finish and then got up.
"But of course, dear boy, you are no lab rat to us, we hope that you will become a precious partner here, in Zofie Corporation, when you have settled in these new settings!" He smiled again, too wide.
"House will be signed over to you tomorrow's morning, first thing, and you shall be given documents on records about previous... versions," Johnson stumbled a little at last word. "As well as any equipment you desire."
"However," the man nervously started, "I hope you don't mind Miss Ragnarok's presence. I have little power over that, Mr. Emmerich." He cringed, again a nervous glance around. If it was up to him, she would leave with this man, and Never, Ever return. "She is assigned as your partner and guide, and not by my word."
Raphael Emmerich:
"You could only sound more scripted if you read from a teleprompter." he didn't sound enthused. Still, he nodded, keeping personal intent close to his chest. No point in being forward in his plans on eventually ditching them. "After a few days I will need a bed of nails, and of coals. For now, my body and a few meals to begin is enough." perhaps the doctor can detect a distinct difference in the man's demeanor. "And of course the documents. Now... Where is my cage?" put that as they will, he saw it like that all the same.
Narrator:
The man was clearly puzzled about the shifts in Raphael's attitude. He couldn't follow it, and that scared him further, since he was unable to predict the next move. 'Maybe this version is defected, too', Magnus thought.
"No cage for you, of course," he tried to sound enthusiastic, but without much success, leaving the room. Chattering meaningless things about the building, doctor led Raphael to a door, just as merged in wall as others. When opened, it revealed medium sized room, in white and silver, with bed, desk at window - which could not be opened -, few chairs. And door, that most likely led to bathroom. There was also bookshelf with some books and newspaper.
"If you need anything, the door onto right always has a nurse or two, you can ask them anything," he explained. "Now, good night!" And he hurried off, as if some beast from nightmares were chasing him.
From ceiling of the corridor, two invisible eyes watched how Raphael went in and shut the doors. They had witnessed the conversation and most likely, would watch over him further, too. The being slid away, but a new one appeared in the room, unnoticed and unknown, hidden in the corner. If anything of importance happened, Mistress would know it in a blink.
Raphael Emmerich:
He imagined the state of the place fairly well--a gussied up cage. No real exit, a bland environment, but that was fine enough. He filed through newspapers absently, reading the state of the world if they were up to date. He only occupied himself till dinner, and opted to sleep on the floor instead of in comfort, militaristic discipline putting him out quickly and in by early morning he was up naturally, going through routines of exercises. He waited to see if anyone held up to their bargain on paperwork, and spend the better part of the morning stiff as a board, propped up from the ground by one arm at a time, the opposite behind the back. He had spent months training in a cluster of wilderness similarly. He considered it reprising of training. Where else did he have to go? So... Staring at the door, guessing the passing of morning.
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok:
Johnson brought papers, all signed and completed, to him around midday. He apologized few times for being late, and Raphael guessed it could be because the previous owner had felt a little uncontent with initial offer. Not from the fool town probably, possibly figured how to milk the company more. With the documents, also came small map of papers concerning previous experiment outcomes. There were few results, apparently. Four previous merging attempts. Two never woke up, the mind and body refusing each other and gradually falling apart. After a while, they were taken off life support. The next one, went mad the moment he opened eyes. Thrashing, screaming and attacking scientists. Apparently, the reason for restrains he had encountered upon waking. Papers said he was treated well, in corporations personal hospital.
The one before him, had nearly visibly stiff information. After seemingly coping well, with the information dosage, he had caved in under the reality and stress few hours later, in city, "nearly causing a horrible crash with the vehicle he was in". No more information, but the most likely he had been killed. Or died naturally, brains and heart going highwire.
Whenever Raphael left the room, visibly or unnoticeably, Leila was around somewhere. Her presence followed him, even after the man was released to go to his 'new' old home, and even if she was in physical form, she remained silent. What ever he needed - be it paint, wooden boards, bed of coals, tech plans - all of it was supplied, and maybe, just maybe, her small finger helped the process move more quickly and smoothly. There was a line on her, too, in the papers, but it was brief and only mentioned she was to be assigned as any working 'prototype's partner'.
He remained somewhat intriguing observation object for the woman. His progress... was unnaturally fast. As talented and mentally prepared he came in this world, it was hard to believe how quickly he was developing, returning to his former form. She would refuse to believe, if it didn't happen before her very own eyes. Clearly, a trait that could deal him a permanent spot. Leila was not entirely pleased with the fact, for her feelings were rather split, swaying between cold neutrality and sprouts of dislike. She also observed something that had not been noted in most papers about Raphael's mindset - there was some kind of parts to him, not a solid personality that could be trusted to rule troughout the whole encounter. More reason for tension and annoyance from her side.
Raphael Emmerich:
Even when he had a girlfriend, not yet wife, he went into seclusion. They seemed convinced he would break down, and history in the papers, reviewed more than once at the desk, made it clear why. He left the room only when he had to. He took a week without food after his first day, figuring his body could use that much. But ignoring the strain, pain, and exhaustion was crucial. He finally conceded. If he wanted to perfect the body, after days of training, it needed sustenance to build and grow. After several days of rotation between arms, legs, abdomen and everything in between, the burning muscles needed repair. The militaristic schedule cracked, and with it the cold mentality. He leaned against the door, winded, before finally changing into another shirt, a faded "WW(batsignal)D?" shirt. She had little reason to see him personally. Exhausted, and out of 'mental uniform', his eyes still had more spark. His face wasn't as hardened or strained, just weary. "...I could use... a nice high protein, high carb meal. ...please don't chill the drink." and all at once knees tried to buckle, as if he suddenly remembered he was human. Oops. And once he had 'clocked out', burning with weakness, he didn't find it as easy to click back in. He was conscious and... Throwing up stomach acid right outside his room. Watch your shoes.
Leila Ragnarok:
"I am not your maid," she replied simply, one leg propped up against the wall, as she leaned on it. Today she had gathered all the hair in long ponytail, no bangs around her face, making her glare even more direct. Arms were crossed, as Raphel spoke, but when he fell, Leila threw them up in annoyed manner.
A minute later, she returned with towel and bottle of water, the first thrown at him unceremoniously, avoiding the spot on floor. "By all means, you just might match me in obsession level," she murmured, more to her self than him, putting bottle on the table.
"Nurse will get you your drink soon, and clean up the mess."
Raphael Emmerich:
"Can you think of anything better for me to be doing?" he laughed tiredly, deciding to sit and slump against the wall, only to intercept a rag and toss it at the mess. "Worst case scenario... I kill myself by trying too hard." he tugged at the corner of his gloves absently. "I won't give anyone else the chance at that. So... How much longer are they going to stare at me through cameras?"
Leila Ragnarok:
Casually, she sat on the corner of the table, shrugging.
"You could find first if this effort has got a point or the world now has different set of rules." If he did not get his suit or whatever back, and a good batch of medicine on top, even being muscle mass would not secure him a safe spot anywhere at all. A human was only discardable pile of junk in this world, in the end.
"But, well, none of my business, lad," Leila shrugged. "And probably the rest of your life, in some way." She had thought that was clear by now, from what had been said and shown to him.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Tch. You still don't get it, do you?" he smiled, as if knowing something she didnt. He might be exhausted, but held some bit of mischief. "Like you know so damn much... And you guys miss the simplest detail." he held up his hand to portray a centimeter of nothing between his fingers. So close, "right there. Under your noses." it made him giggle, which turned into a cough. "Hopefully... for all of your lenses and doctors," he pushed up tiredly, "You'll start to get just how I tick. So set in what you know... You won't stop to think that what you want with me is what you don't know. Now someone had better give me a mission or something interesting, or I will show that I'm very, very able to get out of here and away from you."
Leila Ragnarok:
Leila resisted urge to roll eyes at his pompous ways. They seemed... unfit, for this large man, now a slumped pile of tiredness. However, if he had to be compared to puzzle, then that of a large scaled labyrinth, or maybe optical illusion.
"They are not a mind reader, but the Doc could fetch one, specially for your high and mighty rear-end. You think you're pulling everyone by their noses, but one call, and you're without any cover, protection. Like the baby you are right now. Maybe they just let you think that they know nothin'." Stubbornly, she refused to count her self in with the others, with "them".
It wouldn't be hard, to destroy his Alfred and other bunks, with all they contained. And then trace him down. What he didn't know, that as moment passed, each his heartbeat and other impulses were recorded in device, set deep in his body. The way it would be practically impossible to remove, without killing even his alter-ego. Maybe he knew, maybe his fancy computer had told him, but most likely not. Made to be untraceable except for their machines, it was. And Leila had exclusive control and access to it. Supposedly, she could make his heart stop beating - right then and there, with a simple command.
"But you will get action, sure, when gust of wind won't blow you off your feet. This might not be the way to get there, tho'."
Raphael Emmerich:
There was something different about this cockiness. He didn't have the cold or callous eyes, but a careless grin and an impish look. "I might underestimate you... But anyone who sees me like an infant? Clearly only worked with a bad copy. Test me, threaten me, try to make me insecure. You're talking to a man with nothing to lose. You guys... Well, it's pretty clear I'm not an easy make. You're more disposable to me than I am to you. How many billions of dollars and years have you wasted trying so far? How many more dice rolls will it take to make it work again? I think it is those who want my secret who should be more willing to admit they're at a loss. Worst case, I go back to sleep." forever. He wasn't necessarily suicidal, but he had no reason to fight for anything but his ego. Just how valuable that was, they still didn't seem to understand. "The way I figure it, I'm only expendable once they have what they want. Until they have that... I'm what you call an enigma--an abnormality--a break in the equasion. A variable changes everything you know. I know you have all the cards. The difference is... I'm both batman and the joker."
Leila Ragnarok:
She smiled that hollow smile again, this time some true amusement spilling into it. "Oh, you're underestimating indeed. They're on the roll. Next version would be more... perfect. Maybe they would even manage to brainwash this rebelliousness out. For a test."
"No matter how much they spend, they will get it ten, twenty times back when this is completed, with few orders. And they aren't going to tiptoe and guess what makes you worthy to be kept, so, go ahead and show them." Leila stood up, dusting off invisible particles from her clothes.
"I'll be waiting, if no one else." She headed for the doors, pausing briefly before exiting.
"And for the memo, if you tremble in fear or boast is not my field of interest. Perceive me as a computer, who gives you information, not caring what you do with it." Then she was out, having told in her way that she did not try to intimidate him, or pressure him, about twenty seconds before nurse entered. The woman was young and caring, quickly cleaning the mess, bringing a tray with the ordered drink and expressing quite genuine concern for Raphael.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Brainwash him. You'll realize you eliminated what you seek. If your standards have failed, maybe your experiments aren't the failure, but the idiots at the helm." a brainwashed wraith was... Well, lacking the traits they sought. Still the point escaped them. He let her leave, and looked to the nurse. "How can so many people with a high I.Q. Have the collective wit of a frog?" he addressed the attendant. Regardless, he repeated his request for a meal. He would wait at least that long before putting this place behind him.
Leila Ragnarok, Narrator:
"Uhm, sir, if Miss Ragnarok annoyed you, I am sorry," the nurse bowed head. "She is not witless, though..." the woman trailed off, and then scurried off, leaving him alone with high carb, high protein drink, to fetch some easy to digest and swallow food, which was brought in few minutes later.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop, Leila was digging trough the seriously lacking file package on Mr. Emmerich. Her phone beeped, and after glancing at the number, she picked up, brow slightly furrowing.
"If he wants me to stay put, at least get me all the information. And I mean ALL of it. Or else the fish just might slip trough the net. Give me all you have on Wraith Beknight and more. I don't care if you have to raise another dead to get it." With that, the call was dropped. The person on end didn't have as much as chance to interrupt her.
There was something, in what Raphael had said today, that ticked her off... Because, to certain extent - he was right. They were ignoring few major facts about the man. He could be used more than just a revived guinea pig. But this vigilante needed a drive...
"Let's see just what you can pull of, Emmerich," Leila murmured softly, tapping on her knee, eyes traveling down the newly arrived fresh batch of information. Honestly, she was going out of her way already, and it was hard to pinpoint why.
However it may be, the next day there were seemingly no traces of the woman nearby Raphael. Maybe to a different personality it would cause a certain feel of emptiness, when the only firm thing from the beginning of his new life was gone, but doubtfully such feelings settled in his heart. And somewhere, she was having a cold dispute trough hologram call over said experiment object. "... If you want to keep and exploit him to the maximum, this is what you ought to do..."
Raphael Emmerich:
Ah, what spare data can be found. There are those things that can not be quantified. The most that can be scientifically detailed is that more than once, he continued to operate without biorhythms. Defying all science, he moved without heartbeat or lungs, even continued to battle, for a point past logical brain death. More than once, Raphael Emmerich returned to the world of the living, dying not of violence but old age. His feats were many. Magicians, psions and gods all took their shots at the wraith, and were as effective as a drop of water rolling off the back. It was the utilitarians of the physical world: electromagnets, giant pikes and anvil-esque weights--combatants of raw physical prowess--that have ever offended him. His records were broad: pretending to be among the apocalyptic hoarde and gathering intel; hiding under their noses afterwards; he hunted those the police could not, and warred with a thief who took for herself a suit of the same model as one of his: a form of nanomachine acquired from Lode Corp. The stolen component was a watch, weilded by a rival. The original, given by his questionable 'mentor' Lode, were a form of master suit, originally intended to be worn under Lode's leather gloves as some sort of band; while harder to conceal, it dominated the watch and other suits, acting as a master hub capable of storing multiple forms. It was his second favorite suit, as he most often used a heavier form of suit from L.A.I., a modification of his original. Other suits varied, such as NEMESIS. Little was known there. His suits all had questionable code names: Wraith, Dragon, Nemesis. For a hero, he had a fondness of the darkness. Sheol were the names of his bases, numbered into depths. Two primaries were known, but small self standing shelters stood as hubs. The code name was after an old version of hell, as did Dante (of dantes inferno) oversee level nine, as a method of connectivity, but extractable within the network. He navigated by Accurst and Judge primarily, the former being his primary. The commoner imagined him as a mix of things, such as a water dwelling demon. He commonly showed at shorelines, public water supplies, and certain subterranean quarters such as subways before taking to the roads. He well abused ventilation systems, building structures and wiring connectivity with ease--as expectable from his mundane life history: plumber, electrician, construction worker, and survivalist. Certain old psychiatrists suggested he was satanic in nature, for a variety of reasons including lack of faith in god, but rather man and self. The symbol on his suit was a multi pointed oddity, most traceable to an emblem of the Sufi Faqir, whos knowledges were already almost lost in his days. The old monks were not found of lazilly gained knowledge, and demanded multiple pillars of training between mind, body, soul and ego. Each were seperate ideas, standing as individual pillars, but each necessary for the whole. The rest would surely take devoted spiritualistic research to understand. As she investigated, he sloughed about his room. A day of rest was needed. The protein would restructure his muscles once they were allowed to relax. Until then, he stared out the window, as if for the first time. Was it truly transparent, or just an illusion of light? Was there a world to be seen? Late in the day, he absently beat his head against the wall in seeming boredom now and then, slumping with a sigh. Another night of early retirement. A morning of clear aching, but more intent training began quickly, such as the one handed switch push up, rather than balancing on a fist. One fist hit the ground, stiff body sagging low only to thrust back up; the arm went behind his back, and the other caught him heavily. How many more days was he going to be left to his own devices? If another day followed, he went to finally wander the corridors, as far as he could see, at least. He was far from oblivious, recognizing camera points and, depending on mood, displaying cocky smile or purposefully goofy expression. his training began to show, at least. Definition was unmistakeable, although more than a few times their read on his biosystems might show the young body being dangerously close to a variety of limits. Blood pressure, heart rate, all spiked during different trainings. A good sleep cycle usually resolved it.
Leila Ragnarok:
Beyond the window, was a solid, vast gray sky, welcoming him unchanging every morning and turning gradually black in the evenings. The days seemed to be shorter, than he was used to, and despite the grayness, with no visible sun, people suffered from heat. But within these falls, the air condition was perfect, not even noticeable. The temperature and air humidity was great, as if without effort. However the people... They seemed to be under some strain often, as if they were afraid of something, that could attack them any moment, from any corner.
Just as Raphael was walking down the corridor, one of the nurses squealed and jumped back, as if the 'predicted attack' was about to happen. However, what appeared a moment later was Leila, a slight smug smirk on her face. "I... I'm sorry, Miss," the nurse mumbled, bowing head, but the other woman just waved her off. "I don't bite people like you."
Then her eyes stopped at Raphael and smirk widened, as if she had found just the victim she would love to not only bite, but also suck dry of blood. It shifted back to emotionless expression in a blink, though.
"Hey, big guy, feel like you can climb a fence or two? Or legs are still shaky?"
"Not that it matters, you got one chance to prove them you're a good catch, so if you're not in cheesy longing mood, you better not waste it. I will drop information package in your room."
With that, she continued on her way.
Raphael Emmerich:
Leila earned a hoisted brow. "Why is it always vampires?" he muttered presumptively. Still, he chuckled. "My first mission was after donating bone marrow. I think I'll be fine." ...an odd one, this man. The longing comment drew a grin, "The only thing I long for is to be... Out of here." if only they knew. If they understood his behavior at all, they hid it well. The staring let him see nearby grounds. The occasional, wandering head beating was a less blatant method of testing wall density. What sounded hollow? Where did support beams run? His more aggressive pushups told him the floor was probably more solid than he cared to test. He wasn't about to prison break yet, but he was learning his environment well. "If we're heading out, I'd like to go back to my old base and apply my original suit. It's not as technical, but has its qualities." regardless, he readily split paths and waited for his packet.
Leila Ragnarok:
"No," she replied - apparently they weren't leaving right away, for whatever the mission was. But Leila took notice of the request to get suit on. 'Good, maybe less chances he will get us in trouble,' the woman thought to her self.
In the few papers, there were information about some chip, basic plan of the building they were breaking in. According to plan laid down, most if not all devices and knowledge needed for this mission was in Leila's hands. He was... a backup of sorts. Most likely, this was test of his agility and strength, as well as reliability. If he would make a good employee and partner.
The mission was planned for tomorrow's night, around 8pm. They should be done around 10pm, so they could easily mix in the street flow and disappear, if anything went wrong and they were chased out of the building.
The assassin did not bother him for the rest of the night, although her spies never left his side. She arrived around 4pm, apparently Leila had decided it was enough to get him in the suit and arrive at the warehouse.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Heh... Wraith Beknight, now a petty thief." he snorted once reading the debriefing in private, chewing on a nail and rotating in a chair. A loathesome idea, but a chance to know of the outside world. 4 pm was plenty of time. She could choose whether or not to follow to the basement this time. He still remembered his routine. it was kept near the vehicles--a wall rotating out and exposing a jigsaw of pieces and wiring. It was designed to be walked backwards into, for breastplates to clasp shut with under tiers of wiring automatically connecting, taking a step into black leggings before squatting to manually sinch leg armors, gripping his biceps and forearms to clamp them shut and mild magnetism drawing out the joint guards to overlap. His arms slid into heavy, gorilla like extensions and a twist locked them in place, and over his biking gloves a more metallic show with rubber grips and multiple grooves on all sides were displayed. Rods ran along the arms, lapsing at the hefty armpieces but resuming at the wrist, between which black fabric hung like tattered wings. "...heavier than I remember." he admitted reluctantly, before sinching on the demonically grinning helmet. A brief electrical zapping sound came alive with the electric blue eyes and hazy glow from his twisted mouth. "Ah... that's better." the escaping voice then was mutilated and inhuman, basal and unidentifiable from his own with a darth vader style echo. His posture was hunched, arms hanging forward. -Well, sire. It's been some time.- the computer spoke, but without audible answer spoke -yes, sir- and went silent, reading off a rapidfire list of commands. Apparently some sort of private feed connected them. The rasped voice extended to the woman. "Are we taking your vehicles, or can I do it my way?" he somehow doubted it.
Leila Ragnarok:
"Taking mine, don't need you to crush in some lamppost like drunk pigeon," she replied, not even bother to mention that with her flying style, it would be hard to keep up with her and Raphael didn't know the way. However, if he insisted to do it the flying way, she would make sure it's extra hard to follow.
The young woman had followed him down, but stayed at the doors, in something she apparently considered a safe distance. In truth, Leila hated to be in close proximity with anyone. For the longest of time - and still - she considered rebuilding her vehicle so there was only one seat. Small spaces and strangers in them didn't work well with her.
The same went for work suits for these tasks. Too tight, too... revealing, even if no skin was shown. Although nothing in girl's behavior showed that, she often felt unconscious in body suits that clung to every curve and inch of body like second skin. And this was of exactly type. It was very elastic and wouldn't hold her back no matter what she did - it was ideally practical, having various devices built in it, but... just too tight!
'I will have to do something about it,' Leila thought. It had been long time since she had to be extra stealthy and wear 'uniform' like this one, so she had forgotten about them.
Without waiting any longer, she returned to surface and got into vehicle, leaving him only brief time to get in as well. Either way, the same gut clutching manner, the vehicle took off and flied into the skies. The target warehouse was good deal out the city. Again, there was no music and albeit she liked the silence, it ticked her off. However, Leila knew music one listens to reveals too much about the person. She would have to rework her whole playlist to safely play it in anyone's presence. Too much effort when it was easier to just get anyone out of area of effect.
The vehicle was parked in nearby side-alley, among piles of junk. She wrinkled her nose, getting out, but only briefly. After a moment, her bodysuit adjusted, and head, as well as top of her head, was covered in same attack deflecting material. The long hair was braided, to give little trouble. Normally, Leila would not need to hide her face, her shadows would do it for her, but in this mission, she had decided to use her powers as little as possible.
They stopped at a large fence, one unlucky touch would surely give away their location. From pouch to her belt - had it been there before? - the woman fetched miniature device and planted at the base of fence. It gloved briefly and then bleeped, signaling everything had went as planned. It froze signals and electricity in fence, as well all the security cameras - the current picture became a screenshot on which clock changed accordingly. The warehouse's fault for using united information circle. But Leila didn't explain that all to Raphael, just climbed over the fence nimbly.
Raphael Emmerich:
He was a little more adapted to life now, so the ride wasn't quite as unsettling. En route he asked, "I don't imagine you have the convenience of a radio frequency?" communication could be key. If so he offered up his frequency before He followed behind her. Without the need to be solo, he took opportunity to observe her equipment. If she glanced at him during operation she might have had chance to see his eyes flicker several times. Infrared was unlikely, but Ultraviolet and Electromagnetic lenses were blinked through, catching the tangle of electronics being halted. "...Mm. Jamming." his rattling voice was a whisper. "Hopefully mine still works." he had a lot to find about his limitations. Climbing the old fashioned way wasn't the most effective, but following in her footsteps was still easy enough.
Leila Ragnarok:
Although unwillingly, Leila had to admit inter communication could come in handy and with a little messing, she set her radio to match his frequency. The signal for some reason wasn't clear, as if there was someone talking in the background on her end, but still better than anything.
She waited for him to get over the fence, and sticking to the right side, moved towards the buildings. Although the cameras would keep the safe, the guards were still patrolling about. Without incidents, they got to the door, and with a card, she opened the door, slipping inside, without a sound. Inside was dark, few lamps blinking at the high ceiling. Despite the many security precautions, inside was more like two or three hangars joined together.
Leila successfully ducked, when a light beam from guard's huge flash light moved to the boxes they were located at. Smoothing a shadow cover in front of them, although Raphael wouldn't notice it in the dim light probably, she made sure the sensors wouldn't pick up heat signals from their bodies. "Take out or move on?" she asked in a whisper, when guard moved on. In her style would be graciously getting to the object, taking it without any ruckus, and if needed, knocking out or eliminating few guards, possibly just for the heck of it. But, if they were "partners" or whatever, one couldn't go sneaking, the other getting rid of guards...
The woman could always blame it on him, if they failed mission, though. She smiled a little wickedly at the thought. They had not discussed this before, because after the original plan, there would not be so many guards as her 'spies' now reported being around. But however it went, she would get the best outcome.
Raphael Emmerich:
He squatted in the safety of darkness, luminescent eyes going offline and leaving him a cold, black, steely figure. His own bodyheat was inside the metal, leaving him as detectable as a pile of steel. She might notice the distorted voice even naturally carried the radio channel without escaping the helmet. -I prefer keeping attacks minimal. Operated right, they never know you were present. Leaves less clean up tucking them away. You seem to have the keys in. I'll play shadow and keep watch.- He waited for the prying lights to turn about, taking the spare time to pull something from a belt which clamped into the underside grooves of his hand, then near his metal toes. She could ask details later, but he climbed the sides of the warehouse with the effort of a spider in between the central lights, minus a few legs, only to keep close to the wall, hanging above the lamps themselves. -And... Unless you make a noise... they don't normally look up. Warn me of any trips you know about.- she was the one that seemed to have it all in the bag. He was the outsider, still discovering the new reaches of technology.
Leila Ragnarok:
"Works my way then," she murmured softly, looking up to where he had climbed. His suit was pretty well done, Leila had to admit it, especially to be functioning after all this time. And she could bet there was a good share of surprises left for it to deliver. It would be interesting, to inspect it later... The woman took a note of the idea and then moved on, stealthily.
Shadow cover worked well, of course not as well as when she was one with them, but Leila wouldn't complain. A little hitch came at the doors to the next hangar, where the item was located. One guards, alert. But he patrolled, so the moment he was furthest from doors, Leila opened the doors and slid inside. Without waiting further, the woman moved to the corner where the item was hidden in safe. This room was bright, a disadvantage for her. But oh well.
Quickly, Leila entered the code, and with soft hiss, the safe doors opened. She looked in, and everything seemed secure. Unless they had did a quick installation of a new safe, there shouldn't be any alarms attached to the chip... Woman's hand went in, grabbing the item and then stashing it in the 'bottomless' pouch, as it could seem. The chip was a tiny box, though, easily hidden in palm.
For a moment, there was another voice in the channel, the man could nearly clearly make it out, and maybe even pull a joke of "your crazy voices in the head sure are loud", but there was no time for that, as seemingly from blue air, group of guards appeared. They certainly weren't there before, invisible or otherwise. Position in half circle, guards trapped Leila and she breathed out something barely audible, maybe a curse - or a satisfied sound? It was hard to tell.
The woman ducked, avoiding the gun shots and few laser beams, and leaped forwards, hitting nearest guard's legs, making him gasp in pain and fall forward. Next victim was across of her, whom she pounced on, and used as a shield for brief moment, before engaging in short lived brawl with third guard. The ground beneath her feet seemed to be boiling with something black and if a bullet went her way, it got out, capturing it.
Raphael Emmerich:
Well, teleporting guards throw a hitch in being a look-out. -Hold breath, move six.- hopefully she understood he meant the directional 'six o'clock', as a very traditional smoke bomb dropped in from overhead, and behind it so did the wraith, using a gun in rare display: instead shooting out a few lights and leaving little illumination. An explosion of gasses rolled out, and if she moved 'six' he dropped into her former position. She seemed adept, and if she took care of the guard there she was covered elsewhere, as the spines running along his arms erected. The electrical burst for it was small, but the fabric stretching between the spokes, once seeming haggard, went stiff and shone like metal. Tink tink. A few bullets deflected, and the reflective surface may have rebounded the laser lights as well. -If you got it, go.- he husked over com, serving as a wing-based shield. Perhaps the wing compound was something very different indeed. Hopefully the gasses worked their charm; not only was it for cover, but it was a basic sleeping gas. Anyone unfiltered had best hold breath or go to sleep. And a bull-rush towards any stubborn guard ended in a pistol whip from his smith and wesson 50 cal. It was no light gun. -I watched the way here. Meet me... Near the water.- just in case his codecs were outdated and someone was listening. Hopefully she got cue that he meant along the beach, where his old home went. -Get yourself clear, I'll follow.- no use making a clear cut to their escape route. Both cutting one way made it fairly evident where their vehicle may wait.
Leila Ragnarok:
More on an instinct, than following thoughts, Leila bent and then rolled in the said direction, taking deep breath. Next moment, she was up, landing few well aimed hits, among dodging a few thrown at her, and the guard fell, unconscious. Jumping out of the way from a bullet that had ricocheted ('Damn, did they have materials that deflect /this/ back then?'), the woman moved towards the exit.
Leila's shadow wrapped around the feet of the guard entering the scene, making him crash down full force. The next one received an arrow, penetrating the light armor at unexpected force. However, not made for large scale battles, but for picking off unsuspecting enemies, this one caused little to no harm. Job was finished by a fists blow, though. The guard who came next got direct hit of her weapon, and then the woman was out of the hanger. In the dim light, her shadows seemed to explode, throwing everyone nearby in walls with unreasonable strength, and then consuming her.
She appeared a little away from the fence, in case her magic could be traced (small chance, but still), and rushed to the vehicle. -I took most out, shouldn't be any more problems,- the woman said, wishing she could add that if there was, she wouldn't come back for his ass, but there seemed no reason for that remark.
After the plan, as wrecked as it was, Leila guided in the stream of other flyers, mingling and becoming untraceable, and then turned it around to head back to 'agreed' location. 'Agreed' was a misleading term, though. She was ordered... Ordered around! By some guy who thought she couldn't deal with the situation. Her pride stung, a little, at least. Her common sense told it was what Raphael had to do, though. They were called partners; team. Still, he was to tag along, not pretend he saved her, or even gave somewhat needed backup.
-What happened to non-lethal rule, Wraith? That was no water gun,- she asked, quite sure his receptor would get the message. Glancing at the wrist, Leila took note he was nearing the 'agreed' destination as well.
Ah, what spare data can be found. There are those things that can not be quantified. The most that can be scientifically detailed is that more than once, he continued to operate without biorhythms. Defying all science, he moved without heartbeat or lungs, even continued to battle, for a point past logical brain death. More than once, Raphael Emmerich returned to the world of the living, dying not of violence but old age. His feats were many. Magicians, psions and gods all took their shots at the wraith, and were as effective as a drop of water rolling off the back. It was the utilitarians of the physical world: electromagnets, giant pikes and anvil-esque weights--combatants of raw physical prowess--that have ever offended him. His records were broad: pretending to be among the apocalyptic hoarde and gathering intel; hiding under their noses afterwards; he hunted those the police could not, and warred with a thief who took for herself a suit of the same model as one of his: a form of nanomachine acquired from Lode Corp. The stolen component was a watch, weilded by a rival. The original, given by his questionable 'mentor' Lode, were a form of master suit, originally intended to be worn under Lode's leather gloves as some sort of band; while harder to conceal, it dominated the watch and other suits, acting as a master hub capable of storing multiple forms. It was his second favorite suit, as he most often used a heavier form of suit from L.A.I., a modification of his original. Other suits varied, such as NEMESIS. Little was known there. His suits all had questionable code names: Wraith, Dragon, Nemesis. For a hero, he had a fondness of the darkness. Sheol were the names of his bases, numbered into depths. Two primaries were known, but small self standing shelters stood as hubs. The code name was after an old version of hell, as did Dante (of dantes inferno) oversee level nine, as a method of connectivity, but extractable within the network. He navigated by Accurst and Judge primarily, the former being his primary. The commoner imagined him as a mix of things, such as a water dwelling demon. He commonly showed at shorelines, public water supplies, and certain subterranean quarters such as subways before taking to the roads. He well abused ventilation systems, building structures and wiring connectivity with ease--as expectable from his mundane life history: plumber, electrician, construction worker, and survivalist. Certain old psychiatrists suggested he was satanic in nature, for a variety of reasons including lack of faith in god, but rather man and self. The symbol on his suit was a multi pointed oddity, most traceable to an emblem of the Sufi Faqir, whos knowledges were already almost lost in his days. The old monks were not found of lazilly gained knowledge, and demanded multiple pillars of training between mind, body, soul and ego. Each were seperate ideas, standing as individual pillars, but each necessary for the whole. The rest would surely take devoted spiritualistic research to understand. As she investigated, he sloughed about his room. A day of rest was needed. The protein would restructure his muscles once they were allowed to relax. Until then, he stared out the window, as if for the first time. Was it truly transparent, or just an illusion of light? Was there a world to be seen? Late in the day, he absently beat his head against the wall in seeming boredom now and then, slumping with a sigh. Another night of early retirement. A morning of clear aching, but more intent training began quickly, such as the one handed switch push up, rather than balancing on a fist. One fist hit the ground, stiff body sagging low only to thrust back up; the arm went behind his back, and the other caught him heavily. How many more days was he going to be left to his own devices? If another day followed, he went to finally wander the corridors, as far as he could see, at least. He was far from oblivious, recognizing camera points and, depending on mood, displaying cocky smile or purposefully goofy expression. his training began to show, at least. Definition was unmistakeable, although more than a few times their read on his biosystems might show the young body being dangerously close to a variety of limits. Blood pressure, heart rate, all spiked during different trainings. A good sleep cycle usually resolved it.
Leila Ragnarok:
Beyond the window, was a solid, vast gray sky, welcoming him unchanging every morning and turning gradually black in the evenings. The days seemed to be shorter, than he was used to, and despite the grayness, with no visible sun, people suffered from heat. But within these falls, the air condition was perfect, not even noticeable. The temperature and air humidity was great, as if without effort. However the people... They seemed to be under some strain often, as if they were afraid of something, that could attack them any moment, from any corner.
Just as Raphael was walking down the corridor, one of the nurses squealed and jumped back, as if the 'predicted attack' was about to happen. However, what appeared a moment later was Leila, a slight smug smirk on her face. "I... I'm sorry, Miss," the nurse mumbled, bowing head, but the other woman just waved her off. "I don't bite people like you."
Then her eyes stopped at Raphael and smirk widened, as if she had found just the victim she would love to not only bite, but also suck dry of blood. It shifted back to emotionless expression in a blink, though.
"Hey, big guy, feel like you can climb a fence or two? Or legs are still shaky?"
"Not that it matters, you got one chance to prove them you're a good catch, so if you're not in cheesy longing mood, you better not waste it. I will drop information package in your room."
With that, she continued on her way.
Raphael Emmerich:
Leila earned a hoisted brow. "Why is it always vampires?" he muttered presumptively. Still, he chuckled. "My first mission was after donating bone marrow. I think I'll be fine." ...an odd one, this man. The longing comment drew a grin, "The only thing I long for is to be... Out of here." if only they knew. If they understood his behavior at all, they hid it well. The staring let him see nearby grounds. The occasional, wandering head beating was a less blatant method of testing wall density. What sounded hollow? Where did support beams run? His more aggressive pushups told him the floor was probably more solid than he cared to test. He wasn't about to prison break yet, but he was learning his environment well. "If we're heading out, I'd like to go back to my old base and apply my original suit. It's not as technical, but has its qualities." regardless, he readily split paths and waited for his packet.
Leila Ragnarok:
"No," she replied - apparently they weren't leaving right away, for whatever the mission was. But Leila took notice of the request to get suit on. 'Good, maybe less chances he will get us in trouble,' the woman thought to her self.
In the few papers, there were information about some chip, basic plan of the building they were breaking in. According to plan laid down, most if not all devices and knowledge needed for this mission was in Leila's hands. He was... a backup of sorts. Most likely, this was test of his agility and strength, as well as reliability. If he would make a good employee and partner.
The mission was planned for tomorrow's night, around 8pm. They should be done around 10pm, so they could easily mix in the street flow and disappear, if anything went wrong and they were chased out of the building.
The assassin did not bother him for the rest of the night, although her spies never left his side. She arrived around 4pm, apparently Leila had decided it was enough to get him in the suit and arrive at the warehouse.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Heh... Wraith Beknight, now a petty thief." he snorted once reading the debriefing in private, chewing on a nail and rotating in a chair. A loathesome idea, but a chance to know of the outside world. 4 pm was plenty of time. She could choose whether or not to follow to the basement this time. He still remembered his routine. it was kept near the vehicles--a wall rotating out and exposing a jigsaw of pieces and wiring. It was designed to be walked backwards into, for breastplates to clasp shut with under tiers of wiring automatically connecting, taking a step into black leggings before squatting to manually sinch leg armors, gripping his biceps and forearms to clamp them shut and mild magnetism drawing out the joint guards to overlap. His arms slid into heavy, gorilla like extensions and a twist locked them in place, and over his biking gloves a more metallic show with rubber grips and multiple grooves on all sides were displayed. Rods ran along the arms, lapsing at the hefty armpieces but resuming at the wrist, between which black fabric hung like tattered wings. "...heavier than I remember." he admitted reluctantly, before sinching on the demonically grinning helmet. A brief electrical zapping sound came alive with the electric blue eyes and hazy glow from his twisted mouth. "Ah... that's better." the escaping voice then was mutilated and inhuman, basal and unidentifiable from his own with a darth vader style echo. His posture was hunched, arms hanging forward. -Well, sire. It's been some time.- the computer spoke, but without audible answer spoke -yes, sir- and went silent, reading off a rapidfire list of commands. Apparently some sort of private feed connected them. The rasped voice extended to the woman. "Are we taking your vehicles, or can I do it my way?" he somehow doubted it.
Leila Ragnarok:
"Taking mine, don't need you to crush in some lamppost like drunk pigeon," she replied, not even bother to mention that with her flying style, it would be hard to keep up with her and Raphael didn't know the way. However, if he insisted to do it the flying way, she would make sure it's extra hard to follow.
The young woman had followed him down, but stayed at the doors, in something she apparently considered a safe distance. In truth, Leila hated to be in close proximity with anyone. For the longest of time - and still - she considered rebuilding her vehicle so there was only one seat. Small spaces and strangers in them didn't work well with her.
The same went for work suits for these tasks. Too tight, too... revealing, even if no skin was shown. Although nothing in girl's behavior showed that, she often felt unconscious in body suits that clung to every curve and inch of body like second skin. And this was of exactly type. It was very elastic and wouldn't hold her back no matter what she did - it was ideally practical, having various devices built in it, but... just too tight!
'I will have to do something about it,' Leila thought. It had been long time since she had to be extra stealthy and wear 'uniform' like this one, so she had forgotten about them.
Without waiting any longer, she returned to surface and got into vehicle, leaving him only brief time to get in as well. Either way, the same gut clutching manner, the vehicle took off and flied into the skies. The target warehouse was good deal out the city. Again, there was no music and albeit she liked the silence, it ticked her off. However, Leila knew music one listens to reveals too much about the person. She would have to rework her whole playlist to safely play it in anyone's presence. Too much effort when it was easier to just get anyone out of area of effect.
The vehicle was parked in nearby side-alley, among piles of junk. She wrinkled her nose, getting out, but only briefly. After a moment, her bodysuit adjusted, and head, as well as top of her head, was covered in same attack deflecting material. The long hair was braided, to give little trouble. Normally, Leila would not need to hide her face, her shadows would do it for her, but in this mission, she had decided to use her powers as little as possible.
They stopped at a large fence, one unlucky touch would surely give away their location. From pouch to her belt - had it been there before? - the woman fetched miniature device and planted at the base of fence. It gloved briefly and then bleeped, signaling everything had went as planned. It froze signals and electricity in fence, as well all the security cameras - the current picture became a screenshot on which clock changed accordingly. The warehouse's fault for using united information circle. But Leila didn't explain that all to Raphael, just climbed over the fence nimbly.
Raphael Emmerich:
He was a little more adapted to life now, so the ride wasn't quite as unsettling. En route he asked, "I don't imagine you have the convenience of a radio frequency?" communication could be key. If so he offered up his frequency before He followed behind her. Without the need to be solo, he took opportunity to observe her equipment. If she glanced at him during operation she might have had chance to see his eyes flicker several times. Infrared was unlikely, but Ultraviolet and Electromagnetic lenses were blinked through, catching the tangle of electronics being halted. "...Mm. Jamming." his rattling voice was a whisper. "Hopefully mine still works." he had a lot to find about his limitations. Climbing the old fashioned way wasn't the most effective, but following in her footsteps was still easy enough.
Leila Ragnarok:
Although unwillingly, Leila had to admit inter communication could come in handy and with a little messing, she set her radio to match his frequency. The signal for some reason wasn't clear, as if there was someone talking in the background on her end, but still better than anything.
She waited for him to get over the fence, and sticking to the right side, moved towards the buildings. Although the cameras would keep the safe, the guards were still patrolling about. Without incidents, they got to the door, and with a card, she opened the door, slipping inside, without a sound. Inside was dark, few lamps blinking at the high ceiling. Despite the many security precautions, inside was more like two or three hangars joined together.
Leila successfully ducked, when a light beam from guard's huge flash light moved to the boxes they were located at. Smoothing a shadow cover in front of them, although Raphael wouldn't notice it in the dim light probably, she made sure the sensors wouldn't pick up heat signals from their bodies. "Take out or move on?" she asked in a whisper, when guard moved on. In her style would be graciously getting to the object, taking it without any ruckus, and if needed, knocking out or eliminating few guards, possibly just for the heck of it. But, if they were "partners" or whatever, one couldn't go sneaking, the other getting rid of guards...
The woman could always blame it on him, if they failed mission, though. She smiled a little wickedly at the thought. They had not discussed this before, because after the original plan, there would not be so many guards as her 'spies' now reported being around. But however it went, she would get the best outcome.
Raphael Emmerich:
He squatted in the safety of darkness, luminescent eyes going offline and leaving him a cold, black, steely figure. His own bodyheat was inside the metal, leaving him as detectable as a pile of steel. She might notice the distorted voice even naturally carried the radio channel without escaping the helmet. -I prefer keeping attacks minimal. Operated right, they never know you were present. Leaves less clean up tucking them away. You seem to have the keys in. I'll play shadow and keep watch.- He waited for the prying lights to turn about, taking the spare time to pull something from a belt which clamped into the underside grooves of his hand, then near his metal toes. She could ask details later, but he climbed the sides of the warehouse with the effort of a spider in between the central lights, minus a few legs, only to keep close to the wall, hanging above the lamps themselves. -And... Unless you make a noise... they don't normally look up. Warn me of any trips you know about.- she was the one that seemed to have it all in the bag. He was the outsider, still discovering the new reaches of technology.
Leila Ragnarok:
"Works my way then," she murmured softly, looking up to where he had climbed. His suit was pretty well done, Leila had to admit it, especially to be functioning after all this time. And she could bet there was a good share of surprises left for it to deliver. It would be interesting, to inspect it later... The woman took a note of the idea and then moved on, stealthily.
Shadow cover worked well, of course not as well as when she was one with them, but Leila wouldn't complain. A little hitch came at the doors to the next hangar, where the item was located. One guards, alert. But he patrolled, so the moment he was furthest from doors, Leila opened the doors and slid inside. Without waiting further, the woman moved to the corner where the item was hidden in safe. This room was bright, a disadvantage for her. But oh well.
Quickly, Leila entered the code, and with soft hiss, the safe doors opened. She looked in, and everything seemed secure. Unless they had did a quick installation of a new safe, there shouldn't be any alarms attached to the chip... Woman's hand went in, grabbing the item and then stashing it in the 'bottomless' pouch, as it could seem. The chip was a tiny box, though, easily hidden in palm.
For a moment, there was another voice in the channel, the man could nearly clearly make it out, and maybe even pull a joke of "your crazy voices in the head sure are loud", but there was no time for that, as seemingly from blue air, group of guards appeared. They certainly weren't there before, invisible or otherwise. Position in half circle, guards trapped Leila and she breathed out something barely audible, maybe a curse - or a satisfied sound? It was hard to tell.
The woman ducked, avoiding the gun shots and few laser beams, and leaped forwards, hitting nearest guard's legs, making him gasp in pain and fall forward. Next victim was across of her, whom she pounced on, and used as a shield for brief moment, before engaging in short lived brawl with third guard. The ground beneath her feet seemed to be boiling with something black and if a bullet went her way, it got out, capturing it.
Raphael Emmerich:
Well, teleporting guards throw a hitch in being a look-out. -Hold breath, move six.- hopefully she understood he meant the directional 'six o'clock', as a very traditional smoke bomb dropped in from overhead, and behind it so did the wraith, using a gun in rare display: instead shooting out a few lights and leaving little illumination. An explosion of gasses rolled out, and if she moved 'six' he dropped into her former position. She seemed adept, and if she took care of the guard there she was covered elsewhere, as the spines running along his arms erected. The electrical burst for it was small, but the fabric stretching between the spokes, once seeming haggard, went stiff and shone like metal. Tink tink. A few bullets deflected, and the reflective surface may have rebounded the laser lights as well. -If you got it, go.- he husked over com, serving as a wing-based shield. Perhaps the wing compound was something very different indeed. Hopefully the gasses worked their charm; not only was it for cover, but it was a basic sleeping gas. Anyone unfiltered had best hold breath or go to sleep. And a bull-rush towards any stubborn guard ended in a pistol whip from his smith and wesson 50 cal. It was no light gun. -I watched the way here. Meet me... Near the water.- just in case his codecs were outdated and someone was listening. Hopefully she got cue that he meant along the beach, where his old home went. -Get yourself clear, I'll follow.- no use making a clear cut to their escape route. Both cutting one way made it fairly evident where their vehicle may wait.
Leila Ragnarok:
More on an instinct, than following thoughts, Leila bent and then rolled in the said direction, taking deep breath. Next moment, she was up, landing few well aimed hits, among dodging a few thrown at her, and the guard fell, unconscious. Jumping out of the way from a bullet that had ricocheted ('Damn, did they have materials that deflect /this/ back then?'), the woman moved towards the exit.
Leila's shadow wrapped around the feet of the guard entering the scene, making him crash down full force. The next one received an arrow, penetrating the light armor at unexpected force. However, not made for large scale battles, but for picking off unsuspecting enemies, this one caused little to no harm. Job was finished by a fists blow, though. The guard who came next got direct hit of her weapon, and then the woman was out of the hanger. In the dim light, her shadows seemed to explode, throwing everyone nearby in walls with unreasonable strength, and then consuming her.
She appeared a little away from the fence, in case her magic could be traced (small chance, but still), and rushed to the vehicle. -I took most out, shouldn't be any more problems,- the woman said, wishing she could add that if there was, she wouldn't come back for his ass, but there seemed no reason for that remark.
After the plan, as wrecked as it was, Leila guided in the stream of other flyers, mingling and becoming untraceable, and then turned it around to head back to 'agreed' location. 'Agreed' was a misleading term, though. She was ordered... Ordered around! By some guy who thought she couldn't deal with the situation. Her pride stung, a little, at least. Her common sense told it was what Raphael had to do, though. They were called partners; team. Still, he was to tag along, not pretend he saved her, or even gave somewhat needed backup.
-What happened to non-lethal rule, Wraith? That was no water gun,- she asked, quite sure his receptor would get the message. Glancing at the wrist, Leila took note he was nearing the 'agreed' destination as well.
Raphael Emmerich:
He took a different route--and intentionally more noisy. He wound up a punch, but the end of it brought a heavy spike jutting from under the heavy arms to abruptly strike the window with a few hundred pounds of centered force to shatter it and climb out. He could have just unlocked it, but he drew more attention his way. She had the item, the objective. He was of less relevence and, as said, expendable. She might even spot him nearby on the roof, throwing a trio of bombs from above. ...two just let out a pitchy, gaseous sound that even drew pause from the guard, who expected something more climactic. The third did nothing... at first. The wraith's eyes, reignited to purposely draw attention, stared blankly until the third belatedly went off, releasing a tear gas. He... cracked his neck and took to the roofs at different angle. -The bullets only met the lights, don't worry. The barrel is heavy, and the guy probably has a concussion, but should live from me cold cocking him.- the pistol whip had just... thudded him and knocked him out, after all. -He'll remember me, that's all. ..or have amnesia...- once it was evident she was clear, he tucked under a building awning and hung tight, eyes losing their light. The search was obvious, but he was taking the time to scour for anything like a manhole or sewer grate. He always loved that as an escape, and it led back towards water. He was named like a ninja turtle, after all. Waiting for a moment of clearance, he dropped to earth and then went subterranean. -Dante, can you remote control the Accurst to my location?- /not safely, sir. My connection is too inhibited for active feed and the sewer grids have changed./ -Well ain't that shitty.- literally. He would have to hoof it. He still chose to rise from the underground long before destination, and she might spot a shadow of him landing on a roof blocks from his home, with a glint of light momentarily betraying him from the rockets in his feet. -Clear?-
Leila Ragnarok:
-As if I was worrying,- there was a taint of distaste in her voice, but if it was for him, what he said, the unexpected assault or something else, was left for guessing. Although he got a point in his record for the distraction cover he offered, Leila found it slightly unnecessary. The more he lingered there, the shorter burnt the possibility next morning various corps would not be searching for mysterious new mercenary. He was too... flashy to go unnoticed as just another regular thief.
-All clear,- Leila informed, part of the mind merging with the faint presence of Shadow that followed Wraith. Even at this time, he would not be left without a spy nearby. Choosing good, but not well thought over escape route (not in his situation, anyways), he had fled the scene successfully. In truth, the woman was still comprehending the little display she had witnessed. Raphael had shown to truly hold a trick card or two up his sleeve - or /in/ the suit, in this case. The higher ups would be pleased. She - not so much.
The vehicle landed in the sand, like a black beetle, and the wings retracted, as Leila climbed out.
-John.- There was short pause, before she continued.-We were ambushed. When I come back, I will show those plans so far up where the sun doesn't shine that you can chew on them. And you will be lucky if that is all I do. I need correct, I repeat, CORRECT information and no safety leaks. Or does your database still have holes in size of moon in its security?-
Whoever was at the other end was never given chance to reply, as she dropped the transmission, the 'hood' retracting into the suit. When Raphael landed nearby, she was staring at the water, eyes narrow.
"This was a set up. I am sure of it. Well, by my calculations, you passed the test."
The woman headed to the flying car, to get him back to his bunk, and then their 'base'.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Somehow not surprising." the twisted voice was unshocked. His entire existence now seemed a bit contrived, so a 'set up' wasn't unexpected. In fact, all shock had been replaced by deadpan, only given inflection by the voice modulator. "You had the key," the metaphorical one, that is, "And you got away. I would hope I passed. Especially feeling like an undertrained puppy." he removed his hand fixtures, folding it up with a magnetic appeal and tucking the hand augment away. Hopefully she didn't mind some muck dripping off of him. "Ugh... Some of the circuitry needs to be fixed. The ventilation in here is dead. It's like a damn sauna. ...I'll need new bombs, too. Mine just... farted." he grumbled. He was coming back into 'Rafe', and the immunity to physical discomfort was suddenly evident to him. "So, what about you? You're no rookie, either." he gestured for her to head towards the house. If she seemed confused or anything, he hinted, "I smell. Badly. I doubt you want that in the car, and it gives us time to lay low. ...just, uh, face the other direction when I shower."
Leila Ragnarok:
He really needed the new map of the old, unused sewers that were often cleaned up on purpose to be used as tunnels. The people that kept low profile got craftier and loved comfort, if there was a chance of it. The shadow hadn't given her a clear enough view (nor had Leila paid attention so closely, after he was in the sewers) to see just how dirty he got. She wrinkled nose in distaste, and leaned into car, entering few command lines. Something whirred, and when she leaned out, the car shut down and took off.
"It will make two fake laps trough the main flow, manoeuvre out, then land on the other side of your house."
Leila took note of how blank he had sounded and the little confession about faults and feeling 'out of shape'. He had been good, too good for few months old body with a week of workout. The suit and the muscle didn't make him Wraith. No. A part of it, but it rooted elsewhere... That left his mindset as possibility. 'Curious,' the woman thought.
Her pace was slow, because despite the unwanted company, she always enjoyed being out and somewhere quiet. The thrill of the mission was dying down, and albeit it hadn't went perfectly, there was sense of satisfaction, warming up her body and mind. Being trained for this from age of 10, it had become something awfully similar to one of the key points to meaning of life, or the drive of it.
She chuckled softly, at Raphael's comment about her. Most likely a half-willed praise it was, and Leila felt that he was still most likely underestimating her. She could show off, tell him she was the best of the best and tonight had been just a sneak peak, that she was professional assassin and thief, doing this for 10 years, but decided to keep it to her self. The less he knew, the better. If there was something this woman was paranoid about then it was someone getting close to her or otherwise finding out about her past. Then all her hard work would be for naught. Or at least stalled for a while.
"Might as well be the last mission we do together. I am not hired for weaving flower crowns, babysitting or fetching an item or two." Leila glanced up at the sky, and the moon, as if it would hold some answers or promises for her. She wondered, if he had seen anything... unusual about the guards, or her shadow tonight, and if he had, when the questions would come. Or would Raphael again trust his computer to give the truth.
The building was empty now, the few people living there having left - if they had somewhere else to go, Leila didn't know. Maybe they had been thrown out on the street. The corporation was not known for exceptional kindness. When he headed for the shower, the young woman casually sat down, turning all of her attention to the thick silver bracelet. The symbols on it moved quickly, and she was concentrated, but this was probably the most peaceful look on her face Raphael had witnessed.
Raphael Emmerich:
At first, he entered the shower suit-on. Apparently it was relatively water-tight. The jet stream of water wasnt your typical massage strength, enough to leave a bruise or cut on many. He stepped back out to de-suit. "...water pressure's down... Probably means we're running on reserve tanks." -Yes, sir. We haven't needed active water flow and it subdued unnecessary attention. The external water pressure is also low, indicating...- Rafe sighed, walking by in a towel and back into the shower. "I'm a thief -and- a plumber." back to the mediocre. He'd have to do it when he had time. Into the shower, there was an audible hiss from him as the water struck, cleaving skin at first. Still, it was refreshing. He hadn't asked to shower in his time training, and the suit had broiled him. Doubtful she looked, but he looked as relieved as a man who had never taken a shower. Which was technically true. He had left the door ajar, so it wasn't soundproof as it should be. "Ahh--so... Mind telling me why I was accomplice to theft, or...?" he clearly didnt expect a straight answer. "And while we're at it, where can I find resources for wires and plumbing? I like doing my own work. You know." well, she might not entirely. He had a few reasons. He didn't want to ask for certain data. Too much asked for, was too much given away and if he planned on being self sufficient eventually, letting them know his full tactics were ill advised. As it was he was running a gamble, because she might notice he went -in the shower- with his gloves on. Then again, that would require her looking... while he was showering. Hah! Take that, nosy people! "And get this straight: I'm not exactly a merc either. I just have to cooperate until someone gets their head out of their ass and lets me do my own thing." yeah, he took it as opportunity to learn. case in point: guards seeming to teleport in. That was new, and worth learning. "...oh, god." he squinted, realizing something only out of his suit. "...I need glasses again." laser therapy was not part of his genetic coding. He hadn't noticed the contrast until free of the suit, which attempted minor auto adjustments. The sudden reversion to normal was making it evident.
Leila Ragnarok:
You talk too much."
Too straightforward, as in most things that weren't connected to her by flesh and blood, she earned only enemies, but not that Leila cared what he thought of her. The woman sighed softly, probably about this annoying trait of his, and tucked strand of hair behind her ear. The bangs were getting long, she would have to cut them soon.
"As I told you, it was a test. You wanted action, they wanted to see what you're capable of. Thought it couldn't be any more obvious. It could have been anything. They are trying to find category for you, Wraith." Most likely, next test would include them nagging at his no death rule and to see how witty he was. Leila was sure that would turn out interesting. But that was not information she would spill just like that, for no reason.
"/If/ they find one, you get to do your own thing with occasional call. And there is probably a shop just down the street for that equipment, like for anything in these areas. Or ask them, I don't care." Knowing Raphael, there had to be reason he was bringing up the plumbing work. Not just love for it, or love of it was based on something. Maybe the sewer exploring and another way to be in control of his house.
The peaceful feeling crashed as her system was suddenly overcome by sudden pain. Glancing at clock, she realized she had missed a dose. Working like clock, the woman's body required certain boosts at certain times. Thinking the mission would take shorter, Leila had not taken it previously. 'Unwise, Leila, unwise,' she chided her self, teeth gritting. Right palm clenched in fist, the breath ragged, and then she was in control again. At least enough to keep her expression in check and not claw a wall or two.
"Done soon? I have some business to finish with 'careless' people," her voice was a little strained.
Raphael Emmerich:
He paused at a particularly reflective surface, checking the beard that had been spawning by lack of shaving. "Mm. Harvey used to tell me that." talking so much, that is. He definitely needed a shave. "Look like a damn wolfman." he murmered, stepping out of the water... Plus some cuts and bruises from the water pressure. Might make one wonder what it did at full blast. "And don't play coy. I meant 'what did we just steal'." he snorted, walking by with a towel a second time before tucking into the cell and vehicle room to throw on a new set of clothes. Beaten down jeans and a shirt that had once been bold red but faded to 'i wont admit its pink', emblazoned with iron man. ...he never really grew up, you see. His hair refused to conform to any particular style. "So... Let's head back." he tossed his wet head. He had supplies to request, and no real shame in waiting around for a few days. "I do need to see someone. New bombs, the other stuff we talked about." pause. "You okay?" ABOUT TIME, knucklehead. He could be pretty dense for someone capable of fluxes of arrogance and intelligence. That seems to have left him, now--just bright eyes and a strained smile, as if he could make it okay -- even if it hid a bit of worry.
Leila Ragnarok:
She was staring at the bracelet, stiffly, until realized he has exited the shower and then the symbols disappeared. The woman straightened her back, doing her best to look casually around, while he was getting changed and dressed. It had been foolish to stay here, she could have went and explored the rest of the building. Then she could get the dose and all would be fine. If normally Leila was pale, then now her face got close to paper sheet white.
"You are so slow with things and wording that I can't always guess what you're asking about," she said, although mentally cursing a little that she had made a slip up like this.
"According to what I gathered, a chip containing information to aid experiment of changing the DNS part responsible of inborn illnesses," the lie was small, and not for the sake of 'confidential information' - because it wasn't such.
But until he figured out the power thing, it was all he needed to know. The thing that really interested 'their' corporation was research on changing the super power gene people carried. It was a dream and aspiration of many scientists, to figure a way for people to choose their own super powers. But things like mind reading, or shadow control as hers, were so vague and hard to understand, that even DNS data was a mystery. However, if it was the real chip, was up to question...
In reply to his question, Raphael got a glare. "I am tired of all this babbling." Stiffly, Leila stood up and headed out, where the vehicle patiently awaited. She felt relief, just a while more and she would be in the privacy of her own apartment, with everything she needed. That hint of worry... was unnerving. Who was he to care, and why would he? A plot of sorts? Too dense for that, mostly. Was she growing soft, treated him too nicely? Or he was indeed the kind of fool to grow worried for everyone? Yet, awfully observant.
Leila had done her best to push the pain away and even before she exited. By time the vehicle took off, it was pushed at the back of her mind. It now was fixed on things like her limbs, muscles that made them move and also a serene scenery, to soothe her. There was no pain. Not in that little world she was maintaining.
Raphael Emmerich:
He twinged at the reply. That probably meant 'yes' and 'screw off' at the same time. "Right. Standby, Dante." the computer voiced its understanding and dimmed, a small chip of sorts seeming to half eject somewhere amidst its boards. There it would stay, conserving the generator power as Rafe turned off the lights and headed out. In her car he... drummed his fingers boredly, as if looking for anything to avoid eye contact. She would have silence until arrival, unless she spoke up. Exiting, he reminded. "Someone to talk to." for now that depended on her.
He took a different route--and intentionally more noisy. He wound up a punch, but the end of it brought a heavy spike jutting from under the heavy arms to abruptly strike the window with a few hundred pounds of centered force to shatter it and climb out. He could have just unlocked it, but he drew more attention his way. She had the item, the objective. He was of less relevence and, as said, expendable. She might even spot him nearby on the roof, throwing a trio of bombs from above. ...two just let out a pitchy, gaseous sound that even drew pause from the guard, who expected something more climactic. The third did nothing... at first. The wraith's eyes, reignited to purposely draw attention, stared blankly until the third belatedly went off, releasing a tear gas. He... cracked his neck and took to the roofs at different angle. -The bullets only met the lights, don't worry. The barrel is heavy, and the guy probably has a concussion, but should live from me cold cocking him.- the pistol whip had just... thudded him and knocked him out, after all. -He'll remember me, that's all. ..or have amnesia...- once it was evident she was clear, he tucked under a building awning and hung tight, eyes losing their light. The search was obvious, but he was taking the time to scour for anything like a manhole or sewer grate. He always loved that as an escape, and it led back towards water. He was named like a ninja turtle, after all. Waiting for a moment of clearance, he dropped to earth and then went subterranean. -Dante, can you remote control the Accurst to my location?- /not safely, sir. My connection is too inhibited for active feed and the sewer grids have changed./ -Well ain't that shitty.- literally. He would have to hoof it. He still chose to rise from the underground long before destination, and she might spot a shadow of him landing on a roof blocks from his home, with a glint of light momentarily betraying him from the rockets in his feet. -Clear?-
Leila Ragnarok:
-As if I was worrying,- there was a taint of distaste in her voice, but if it was for him, what he said, the unexpected assault or something else, was left for guessing. Although he got a point in his record for the distraction cover he offered, Leila found it slightly unnecessary. The more he lingered there, the shorter burnt the possibility next morning various corps would not be searching for mysterious new mercenary. He was too... flashy to go unnoticed as just another regular thief.
-All clear,- Leila informed, part of the mind merging with the faint presence of Shadow that followed Wraith. Even at this time, he would not be left without a spy nearby. Choosing good, but not well thought over escape route (not in his situation, anyways), he had fled the scene successfully. In truth, the woman was still comprehending the little display she had witnessed. Raphael had shown to truly hold a trick card or two up his sleeve - or /in/ the suit, in this case. The higher ups would be pleased. She - not so much.
The vehicle landed in the sand, like a black beetle, and the wings retracted, as Leila climbed out.
-John.- There was short pause, before she continued.-We were ambushed. When I come back, I will show those plans so far up where the sun doesn't shine that you can chew on them. And you will be lucky if that is all I do. I need correct, I repeat, CORRECT information and no safety leaks. Or does your database still have holes in size of moon in its security?-
Whoever was at the other end was never given chance to reply, as she dropped the transmission, the 'hood' retracting into the suit. When Raphael landed nearby, she was staring at the water, eyes narrow.
"This was a set up. I am sure of it. Well, by my calculations, you passed the test."
The woman headed to the flying car, to get him back to his bunk, and then their 'base'.
Raphael Emmerich:
"Somehow not surprising." the twisted voice was unshocked. His entire existence now seemed a bit contrived, so a 'set up' wasn't unexpected. In fact, all shock had been replaced by deadpan, only given inflection by the voice modulator. "You had the key," the metaphorical one, that is, "And you got away. I would hope I passed. Especially feeling like an undertrained puppy." he removed his hand fixtures, folding it up with a magnetic appeal and tucking the hand augment away. Hopefully she didn't mind some muck dripping off of him. "Ugh... Some of the circuitry needs to be fixed. The ventilation in here is dead. It's like a damn sauna. ...I'll need new bombs, too. Mine just... farted." he grumbled. He was coming back into 'Rafe', and the immunity to physical discomfort was suddenly evident to him. "So, what about you? You're no rookie, either." he gestured for her to head towards the house. If she seemed confused or anything, he hinted, "I smell. Badly. I doubt you want that in the car, and it gives us time to lay low. ...just, uh, face the other direction when I shower."
Leila Ragnarok:
He really needed the new map of the old, unused sewers that were often cleaned up on purpose to be used as tunnels. The people that kept low profile got craftier and loved comfort, if there was a chance of it. The shadow hadn't given her a clear enough view (nor had Leila paid attention so closely, after he was in the sewers) to see just how dirty he got. She wrinkled nose in distaste, and leaned into car, entering few command lines. Something whirred, and when she leaned out, the car shut down and took off.
"It will make two fake laps trough the main flow, manoeuvre out, then land on the other side of your house."
Leila took note of how blank he had sounded and the little confession about faults and feeling 'out of shape'. He had been good, too good for few months old body with a week of workout. The suit and the muscle didn't make him Wraith. No. A part of it, but it rooted elsewhere... That left his mindset as possibility. 'Curious,' the woman thought.
Her pace was slow, because despite the unwanted company, she always enjoyed being out and somewhere quiet. The thrill of the mission was dying down, and albeit it hadn't went perfectly, there was sense of satisfaction, warming up her body and mind. Being trained for this from age of 10, it had become something awfully similar to one of the key points to meaning of life, or the drive of it.
She chuckled softly, at Raphael's comment about her. Most likely a half-willed praise it was, and Leila felt that he was still most likely underestimating her. She could show off, tell him she was the best of the best and tonight had been just a sneak peak, that she was professional assassin and thief, doing this for 10 years, but decided to keep it to her self. The less he knew, the better. If there was something this woman was paranoid about then it was someone getting close to her or otherwise finding out about her past. Then all her hard work would be for naught. Or at least stalled for a while.
"Might as well be the last mission we do together. I am not hired for weaving flower crowns, babysitting or fetching an item or two." Leila glanced up at the sky, and the moon, as if it would hold some answers or promises for her. She wondered, if he had seen anything... unusual about the guards, or her shadow tonight, and if he had, when the questions would come. Or would Raphael again trust his computer to give the truth.
The building was empty now, the few people living there having left - if they had somewhere else to go, Leila didn't know. Maybe they had been thrown out on the street. The corporation was not known for exceptional kindness. When he headed for the shower, the young woman casually sat down, turning all of her attention to the thick silver bracelet. The symbols on it moved quickly, and she was concentrated, but this was probably the most peaceful look on her face Raphael had witnessed.
Raphael Emmerich:
At first, he entered the shower suit-on. Apparently it was relatively water-tight. The jet stream of water wasnt your typical massage strength, enough to leave a bruise or cut on many. He stepped back out to de-suit. "...water pressure's down... Probably means we're running on reserve tanks." -Yes, sir. We haven't needed active water flow and it subdued unnecessary attention. The external water pressure is also low, indicating...- Rafe sighed, walking by in a towel and back into the shower. "I'm a thief -and- a plumber." back to the mediocre. He'd have to do it when he had time. Into the shower, there was an audible hiss from him as the water struck, cleaving skin at first. Still, it was refreshing. He hadn't asked to shower in his time training, and the suit had broiled him. Doubtful she looked, but he looked as relieved as a man who had never taken a shower. Which was technically true. He had left the door ajar, so it wasn't soundproof as it should be. "Ahh--so... Mind telling me why I was accomplice to theft, or...?" he clearly didnt expect a straight answer. "And while we're at it, where can I find resources for wires and plumbing? I like doing my own work. You know." well, she might not entirely. He had a few reasons. He didn't want to ask for certain data. Too much asked for, was too much given away and if he planned on being self sufficient eventually, letting them know his full tactics were ill advised. As it was he was running a gamble, because she might notice he went -in the shower- with his gloves on. Then again, that would require her looking... while he was showering. Hah! Take that, nosy people! "And get this straight: I'm not exactly a merc either. I just have to cooperate until someone gets their head out of their ass and lets me do my own thing." yeah, he took it as opportunity to learn. case in point: guards seeming to teleport in. That was new, and worth learning. "...oh, god." he squinted, realizing something only out of his suit. "...I need glasses again." laser therapy was not part of his genetic coding. He hadn't noticed the contrast until free of the suit, which attempted minor auto adjustments. The sudden reversion to normal was making it evident.
Leila Ragnarok:
You talk too much."
Too straightforward, as in most things that weren't connected to her by flesh and blood, she earned only enemies, but not that Leila cared what he thought of her. The woman sighed softly, probably about this annoying trait of his, and tucked strand of hair behind her ear. The bangs were getting long, she would have to cut them soon.
"As I told you, it was a test. You wanted action, they wanted to see what you're capable of. Thought it couldn't be any more obvious. It could have been anything. They are trying to find category for you, Wraith." Most likely, next test would include them nagging at his no death rule and to see how witty he was. Leila was sure that would turn out interesting. But that was not information she would spill just like that, for no reason.
"/If/ they find one, you get to do your own thing with occasional call. And there is probably a shop just down the street for that equipment, like for anything in these areas. Or ask them, I don't care." Knowing Raphael, there had to be reason he was bringing up the plumbing work. Not just love for it, or love of it was based on something. Maybe the sewer exploring and another way to be in control of his house.
The peaceful feeling crashed as her system was suddenly overcome by sudden pain. Glancing at clock, she realized she had missed a dose. Working like clock, the woman's body required certain boosts at certain times. Thinking the mission would take shorter, Leila had not taken it previously. 'Unwise, Leila, unwise,' she chided her self, teeth gritting. Right palm clenched in fist, the breath ragged, and then she was in control again. At least enough to keep her expression in check and not claw a wall or two.
"Done soon? I have some business to finish with 'careless' people," her voice was a little strained.
Raphael Emmerich:
He paused at a particularly reflective surface, checking the beard that had been spawning by lack of shaving. "Mm. Harvey used to tell me that." talking so much, that is. He definitely needed a shave. "Look like a damn wolfman." he murmered, stepping out of the water... Plus some cuts and bruises from the water pressure. Might make one wonder what it did at full blast. "And don't play coy. I meant 'what did we just steal'." he snorted, walking by with a towel a second time before tucking into the cell and vehicle room to throw on a new set of clothes. Beaten down jeans and a shirt that had once been bold red but faded to 'i wont admit its pink', emblazoned with iron man. ...he never really grew up, you see. His hair refused to conform to any particular style. "So... Let's head back." he tossed his wet head. He had supplies to request, and no real shame in waiting around for a few days. "I do need to see someone. New bombs, the other stuff we talked about." pause. "You okay?" ABOUT TIME, knucklehead. He could be pretty dense for someone capable of fluxes of arrogance and intelligence. That seems to have left him, now--just bright eyes and a strained smile, as if he could make it okay -- even if it hid a bit of worry.
Leila Ragnarok:
She was staring at the bracelet, stiffly, until realized he has exited the shower and then the symbols disappeared. The woman straightened her back, doing her best to look casually around, while he was getting changed and dressed. It had been foolish to stay here, she could have went and explored the rest of the building. Then she could get the dose and all would be fine. If normally Leila was pale, then now her face got close to paper sheet white.
"You are so slow with things and wording that I can't always guess what you're asking about," she said, although mentally cursing a little that she had made a slip up like this.
"According to what I gathered, a chip containing information to aid experiment of changing the DNS part responsible of inborn illnesses," the lie was small, and not for the sake of 'confidential information' - because it wasn't such.
But until he figured out the power thing, it was all he needed to know. The thing that really interested 'their' corporation was research on changing the super power gene people carried. It was a dream and aspiration of many scientists, to figure a way for people to choose their own super powers. But things like mind reading, or shadow control as hers, were so vague and hard to understand, that even DNS data was a mystery. However, if it was the real chip, was up to question...
In reply to his question, Raphael got a glare. "I am tired of all this babbling." Stiffly, Leila stood up and headed out, where the vehicle patiently awaited. She felt relief, just a while more and she would be in the privacy of her own apartment, with everything she needed. That hint of worry... was unnerving. Who was he to care, and why would he? A plot of sorts? Too dense for that, mostly. Was she growing soft, treated him too nicely? Or he was indeed the kind of fool to grow worried for everyone? Yet, awfully observant.
Leila had done her best to push the pain away and even before she exited. By time the vehicle took off, it was pushed at the back of her mind. It now was fixed on things like her limbs, muscles that made them move and also a serene scenery, to soothe her. There was no pain. Not in that little world she was maintaining.
Raphael Emmerich:
He twinged at the reply. That probably meant 'yes' and 'screw off' at the same time. "Right. Standby, Dante." the computer voiced its understanding and dimmed, a small chip of sorts seeming to half eject somewhere amidst its boards. There it would stay, conserving the generator power as Rafe turned off the lights and headed out. In her car he... drummed his fingers boredly, as if looking for anything to avoid eye contact. She would have silence until arrival, unless she spoke up. Exiting, he reminded. "Someone to talk to." for now that depended on her.
Leila Ragnarok, Narrator:
'When owl's tail blooms,' Leila thought at his remark. If the car didn't shut doors automatically, she might have slammed them shut, despite all the self control the woman was mustering. At least he had stayed silent during drive. Maybe, during it Raphael again noticed those little strange 'static' voice noises, but they were quiet and brief.
Leila didn't get off the elevator on his floor, but headed somewhere higher. Even though it was clearly a set up, and wrong information on purpose, she wasn't going to let anyone slip away with that. If this would turn into habit, it could pose a serious threat on her some day. Although she always did a research on where her mission led and what she had to do, Leila still had to rely on information given by the corporation.
When she could finally sink in her bed, face buried in pillow and pain leaving her system, it was a moment of bliss. The woman knew she put too much meaning to her small apartment, and felt far too secure in it, but ever since her childhood was brutally torn apart, Leila longed for a place of her own. Away from world. Only her and things she cared for, needed. Something stable in her ever dangling by the thread life.
Next morning, there was a knock on Raphael's doors. "Mr. Emmerich, you are requested at the Cabinet 2047," said a female voice. If he had paid any attention, he would know it was Magnus Johnson's cabinet.
However, the man sitting in the chair was not the nervous, small man he knew from before. Instead, there was a man with thick black hair, except for silver mist by temples. His eyes were black and sharp, piercing even. The way he held his mouth and his posture implied he was used to having things go his way. An intelligent, but cruel person.
"Mr. Emmerich, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Zachary Schorr." The handshake, if happened, was firm and a little too tight, making it seem a little threatening.
"Mr. Johnson encountered some health problems. He always have had a weak stomach," seemingly kindly, the man explained. As Leila would later learn, a few drops of special acid that became active only when coming in contact with stomach acid, had helped Doc Know-it-all earn a trip to hospital and then a long, nice rehabilitation process, from which he would certainly return to lower post. If at all.
"I have read about your accomplishments, in the past and also the most recent. Quite impressive. I also noticed you expressed, various times, wish to rebuild your previous life. We would like to run some tests today, and after that, you are free to go. We will provide any services and items needed."
There was a small pause. "Of course, if you choose to sign the finalizing contract with Zofie Corporations, we can help you so much more. I see that you are very independent person, Mr. Emmerich, but also one with common sense." It wasn't said in threatening tone, but the message underneath was clearly that. However, if Raphael attempted to leave, he would find the doors locked.
The man continued, as if his words had been most innocent. "I am sure you understand how a stable job that provides you with everything you need and wage, health insurance and other things in exchange for an occasional mission, test of experiment is not a bad deal at all."
Meanwhile, in the security and comfort of her apartment, Leila was digging trough piles of information. "So, Wraith Beknight, big man in a suit of armor with nearly bodybuilder's body... Take away and what are you?" she murmured. Cracking his little secret was not just a task from the Corp anymore, it was something that interested her personally.
After sleeping, Leila realized yesterday had been full of mistakes, one after another. And it annoyed her, that Raphael had been witness to it all. She was determined to find his weak point and knack this tough nut.
Raphael Emmerich:
After the quest and shower, he decided to pamper himself by actually using the bed, although it seemed to actually make his sleep more restless. Somewhere in the mattress' comfort and dream, he rolled now and then but found no one to curl against. He slept late, for once, rising groggily to his summons. "Mhm." he muttered tiredly, but still took the time to throw water on his face. It had become fairly evident that no matter how many times he slept, he would wake up here, alone. He narrowed his eyes at his younger self, albeit an increasingly furry faced version. Typically he even had a shadow on his jaw by five pm. He chuckled sourly. Elsie would be frowning, he saw it in his head. She never audibly griped about it, and seemed to enjoy the stubble, but her eyes always lit up a bit when he shaved off... Overgrowth. He had to even admit to himself it looked sloppy.
He found it hard, somehow, to slip back into neutrality today. Mental exhaustion and a restless night took its toll. Deciding he was still fresh enough, he attended the office in the clothes of the night prior. The last time he saw someone with the man's look, they had been more of a handful than he cared to admit; he never fought them, but saw the results and was glad he hadn't had to. Still, another chuckle, "That is to say... He shit himself when I was coming?" he didn't take full credit, but the first man was worth some laughs to him. Still, he slumped into a seat. "There is no rebuilding my life, only taking care of the scraps left of it." he answered dully. The Wraith wasn't checked in, but neither was his typical mirth there. "At least someone here has a brain." somehow the man reminded him of 'Harvey', which was a bit concerning--and meant he had to watch his steps very carefully. "All I want is some wire, cable, and pipes... Basic construction equipment." he was pretty basic in demands. "I'm not making any deals until I know who I'm making with, and what a deal implies. Leila doesn't look like the happiest employee. Service with a smile, y'know? So let's be straight. What is Zofie, and what does Zofie want out of me? Aside from the secrets of mortality and all that shiz. I work for you... I do what, and for why?
Narrator:
The man's expression didn't change trough Raphael's small speech, but at the end, he shook head, as if deeply dissatisfied by some revelation.
"Miss Ragnarok did not inform you of these things? And neither did Mr. Johnson? How disappointing." Somehow, it didn't leave a good feel about what would come over the heads of the two mentioned people.
The man leaned back in the chair, and looked directly in Raphael's eyes. They were as icy cold as Leila's, except lacked that spark of hate hers always held.
"Knowledge is power, power to make world a better place. That is the motto Zofie Corporation lives by. Rising from small company that manufactured and sold pain killers to a world wide known medicament and chemistry manufacturer, exploring the other vast branches of science, Zofie has created countless machines to aid people with disabilities, help finding and treating various diseases as well many things more."
He then paused. "You are probably still wondering how you come in this, Mr. Emmerich. You see, gene engineering took a very large leap in year 2083rd. However, due to the... changes it brought to world, and some blocks and bans, it was halted and stopped progressing further. Zofie Corporations are now picking up the threads left and weaving them into something better, stronger."
"You, Mr. Emmerich, are one of the outcomes. And you have a great potential. All we want is for that potential not to go to waste. I feel that you are more than simple key, you are a whole new door we have not seen before. We want to see and explore these new possibilities. Tests and observing missions would give us this chance. Your tests would vary from physical strength and agility ones to intelligence and psychological ones, at the beginning at least. Your missions... Mr. Emmerich, the chip you stole last night carries important information to bring happier, healthier children to this world. However, the Corporation that held it, was not interested in actually putting it to use in nearest future. We /will/. As we speak, our scientists are working to put this knowledge to use, to perfection their researches."
"Whatever you will do, Mr. Emmerich, it will benefit /all/. I know of your vigilante background and I understand that you would not agree to do anything that would bring harm on others. And as Corporation that aspires for greater good, Zofie finds you perfect for tasks like these."
There was no over-the-top pathos in Zachary's speech, although it painted a beautiful picture. He seemed calm and sure of what he said, looking like he earnestly meant every word. Except for those eyes...
"As for Miss Ragnarok, I ask of you to not judge Zofie Corporations after her sour demeanor. It is... her nature and Miss Ragnarok has always received the best from her employers. She is very good at her job, a trustworthy employee. Her position might sometimes get to her head, however, leaving effect on her attitude."
"So, what do you say, Mr. Emmerich, about our offer? Any more questions?"
Raphael Emmerich:
He listened, trying to absorb it all... and parse truth from propaganda. At the end... An odd laugh escaped him. "Sounds like I'm listening to a commercial." he rubbed the bridge of his nose. There was no telling how much was truth and what was fiction until he got Dante back to functionality. As it was he wasn't even sure of that, security-wise. He had always been behind, and the fine technical work had always been Jessie's field. Worse, to ask for an assistant would taint his results. He let out a sigh. It sounded nice, at least. And... If he had any hope of concealing his identity in the future, some mote of cooperation was in order. "I don't like contracts. Feels like selling my soul, and that's pretty important. But we'll see what we can work out. I'd suggest more... free hire contract. You debrief me, I choose if I want to do it, you pay me as fit. I don't take much... Just enough to rebuild my own place and eat until I get another day job." emmerich repairs hadn't always been a huge success, after all. Not like he had a family to support now. "Oh, and a confidentiality agreement. You don't talk about me, I don't talk about you. I'll sign that any day. Beyond that... I'd say I need time before I sell myself in full. I'm still feeling like Rumplestiltskin, y'know."
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok:
"It sounds like a good starting point. We want to make sure you feel as comfortable and safe as possible and if such freedom gives you such feeling, we will happily comply," it was hard to determine if his words were truthful, or the man was displeased.
"We do need to run some tests before you can leave today, so, while those are taken care of, the confidentiality agreement will be prepared for you to sign. You can also give me a list of certain items you need, so I can send it further and the materials will be sent to you after two days at most."
"The nurse will take you to the examination," Schorr informed. Apparently, if Raphael wanted to get out, there wasn't much choice in this question. However, he had warned of that at the beginning of conversation, so it wasn't much of a surprise.
The tests were various, such as running on treadmill, or lifting weight, short dummy beating, and also the kind that tested his IQ and psychological stability. Luckily, all the questions about time he hadn't experienced were left out in any 'quizzes'.
At the late end of test chain, Leila appeared behind the glass window, looking in. She looked better, no more black-purple circles around her eyes, or paper white skin. It was already turning evening when the tests were done, and the woman smirked at him slightly, as Raphael came out. "Weaved your way out of the deal with the devil, eh? They must trust you a lot."
Or they were just lulling him into false sense of security and freedom. Leila knew that no moment, even when their paths split and he returned to his home, he would be without a spy at his heels.
'When owl's tail blooms,' Leila thought at his remark. If the car didn't shut doors automatically, she might have slammed them shut, despite all the self control the woman was mustering. At least he had stayed silent during drive. Maybe, during it Raphael again noticed those little strange 'static' voice noises, but they were quiet and brief.
Leila didn't get off the elevator on his floor, but headed somewhere higher. Even though it was clearly a set up, and wrong information on purpose, she wasn't going to let anyone slip away with that. If this would turn into habit, it could pose a serious threat on her some day. Although she always did a research on where her mission led and what she had to do, Leila still had to rely on information given by the corporation.
When she could finally sink in her bed, face buried in pillow and pain leaving her system, it was a moment of bliss. The woman knew she put too much meaning to her small apartment, and felt far too secure in it, but ever since her childhood was brutally torn apart, Leila longed for a place of her own. Away from world. Only her and things she cared for, needed. Something stable in her ever dangling by the thread life.
Next morning, there was a knock on Raphael's doors. "Mr. Emmerich, you are requested at the Cabinet 2047," said a female voice. If he had paid any attention, he would know it was Magnus Johnson's cabinet.
However, the man sitting in the chair was not the nervous, small man he knew from before. Instead, there was a man with thick black hair, except for silver mist by temples. His eyes were black and sharp, piercing even. The way he held his mouth and his posture implied he was used to having things go his way. An intelligent, but cruel person.
"Mr. Emmerich, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Zachary Schorr." The handshake, if happened, was firm and a little too tight, making it seem a little threatening.
"Mr. Johnson encountered some health problems. He always have had a weak stomach," seemingly kindly, the man explained. As Leila would later learn, a few drops of special acid that became active only when coming in contact with stomach acid, had helped Doc Know-it-all earn a trip to hospital and then a long, nice rehabilitation process, from which he would certainly return to lower post. If at all.
"I have read about your accomplishments, in the past and also the most recent. Quite impressive. I also noticed you expressed, various times, wish to rebuild your previous life. We would like to run some tests today, and after that, you are free to go. We will provide any services and items needed."
There was a small pause. "Of course, if you choose to sign the finalizing contract with Zofie Corporations, we can help you so much more. I see that you are very independent person, Mr. Emmerich, but also one with common sense." It wasn't said in threatening tone, but the message underneath was clearly that. However, if Raphael attempted to leave, he would find the doors locked.
The man continued, as if his words had been most innocent. "I am sure you understand how a stable job that provides you with everything you need and wage, health insurance and other things in exchange for an occasional mission, test of experiment is not a bad deal at all."
Meanwhile, in the security and comfort of her apartment, Leila was digging trough piles of information. "So, Wraith Beknight, big man in a suit of armor with nearly bodybuilder's body... Take away and what are you?" she murmured. Cracking his little secret was not just a task from the Corp anymore, it was something that interested her personally.
After sleeping, Leila realized yesterday had been full of mistakes, one after another. And it annoyed her, that Raphael had been witness to it all. She was determined to find his weak point and knack this tough nut.
Raphael Emmerich:
After the quest and shower, he decided to pamper himself by actually using the bed, although it seemed to actually make his sleep more restless. Somewhere in the mattress' comfort and dream, he rolled now and then but found no one to curl against. He slept late, for once, rising groggily to his summons. "Mhm." he muttered tiredly, but still took the time to throw water on his face. It had become fairly evident that no matter how many times he slept, he would wake up here, alone. He narrowed his eyes at his younger self, albeit an increasingly furry faced version. Typically he even had a shadow on his jaw by five pm. He chuckled sourly. Elsie would be frowning, he saw it in his head. She never audibly griped about it, and seemed to enjoy the stubble, but her eyes always lit up a bit when he shaved off... Overgrowth. He had to even admit to himself it looked sloppy.
He found it hard, somehow, to slip back into neutrality today. Mental exhaustion and a restless night took its toll. Deciding he was still fresh enough, he attended the office in the clothes of the night prior. The last time he saw someone with the man's look, they had been more of a handful than he cared to admit; he never fought them, but saw the results and was glad he hadn't had to. Still, another chuckle, "That is to say... He shit himself when I was coming?" he didn't take full credit, but the first man was worth some laughs to him. Still, he slumped into a seat. "There is no rebuilding my life, only taking care of the scraps left of it." he answered dully. The Wraith wasn't checked in, but neither was his typical mirth there. "At least someone here has a brain." somehow the man reminded him of 'Harvey', which was a bit concerning--and meant he had to watch his steps very carefully. "All I want is some wire, cable, and pipes... Basic construction equipment." he was pretty basic in demands. "I'm not making any deals until I know who I'm making with, and what a deal implies. Leila doesn't look like the happiest employee. Service with a smile, y'know? So let's be straight. What is Zofie, and what does Zofie want out of me? Aside from the secrets of mortality and all that shiz. I work for you... I do what, and for why?
Narrator:
The man's expression didn't change trough Raphael's small speech, but at the end, he shook head, as if deeply dissatisfied by some revelation.
"Miss Ragnarok did not inform you of these things? And neither did Mr. Johnson? How disappointing." Somehow, it didn't leave a good feel about what would come over the heads of the two mentioned people.
The man leaned back in the chair, and looked directly in Raphael's eyes. They were as icy cold as Leila's, except lacked that spark of hate hers always held.
"Knowledge is power, power to make world a better place. That is the motto Zofie Corporation lives by. Rising from small company that manufactured and sold pain killers to a world wide known medicament and chemistry manufacturer, exploring the other vast branches of science, Zofie has created countless machines to aid people with disabilities, help finding and treating various diseases as well many things more."
He then paused. "You are probably still wondering how you come in this, Mr. Emmerich. You see, gene engineering took a very large leap in year 2083rd. However, due to the... changes it brought to world, and some blocks and bans, it was halted and stopped progressing further. Zofie Corporations are now picking up the threads left and weaving them into something better, stronger."
"You, Mr. Emmerich, are one of the outcomes. And you have a great potential. All we want is for that potential not to go to waste. I feel that you are more than simple key, you are a whole new door we have not seen before. We want to see and explore these new possibilities. Tests and observing missions would give us this chance. Your tests would vary from physical strength and agility ones to intelligence and psychological ones, at the beginning at least. Your missions... Mr. Emmerich, the chip you stole last night carries important information to bring happier, healthier children to this world. However, the Corporation that held it, was not interested in actually putting it to use in nearest future. We /will/. As we speak, our scientists are working to put this knowledge to use, to perfection their researches."
"Whatever you will do, Mr. Emmerich, it will benefit /all/. I know of your vigilante background and I understand that you would not agree to do anything that would bring harm on others. And as Corporation that aspires for greater good, Zofie finds you perfect for tasks like these."
There was no over-the-top pathos in Zachary's speech, although it painted a beautiful picture. He seemed calm and sure of what he said, looking like he earnestly meant every word. Except for those eyes...
"As for Miss Ragnarok, I ask of you to not judge Zofie Corporations after her sour demeanor. It is... her nature and Miss Ragnarok has always received the best from her employers. She is very good at her job, a trustworthy employee. Her position might sometimes get to her head, however, leaving effect on her attitude."
"So, what do you say, Mr. Emmerich, about our offer? Any more questions?"
Raphael Emmerich:
He listened, trying to absorb it all... and parse truth from propaganda. At the end... An odd laugh escaped him. "Sounds like I'm listening to a commercial." he rubbed the bridge of his nose. There was no telling how much was truth and what was fiction until he got Dante back to functionality. As it was he wasn't even sure of that, security-wise. He had always been behind, and the fine technical work had always been Jessie's field. Worse, to ask for an assistant would taint his results. He let out a sigh. It sounded nice, at least. And... If he had any hope of concealing his identity in the future, some mote of cooperation was in order. "I don't like contracts. Feels like selling my soul, and that's pretty important. But we'll see what we can work out. I'd suggest more... free hire contract. You debrief me, I choose if I want to do it, you pay me as fit. I don't take much... Just enough to rebuild my own place and eat until I get another day job." emmerich repairs hadn't always been a huge success, after all. Not like he had a family to support now. "Oh, and a confidentiality agreement. You don't talk about me, I don't talk about you. I'll sign that any day. Beyond that... I'd say I need time before I sell myself in full. I'm still feeling like Rumplestiltskin, y'know."
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok:
"It sounds like a good starting point. We want to make sure you feel as comfortable and safe as possible and if such freedom gives you such feeling, we will happily comply," it was hard to determine if his words were truthful, or the man was displeased.
"We do need to run some tests before you can leave today, so, while those are taken care of, the confidentiality agreement will be prepared for you to sign. You can also give me a list of certain items you need, so I can send it further and the materials will be sent to you after two days at most."
"The nurse will take you to the examination," Schorr informed. Apparently, if Raphael wanted to get out, there wasn't much choice in this question. However, he had warned of that at the beginning of conversation, so it wasn't much of a surprise.
The tests were various, such as running on treadmill, or lifting weight, short dummy beating, and also the kind that tested his IQ and psychological stability. Luckily, all the questions about time he hadn't experienced were left out in any 'quizzes'.
At the late end of test chain, Leila appeared behind the glass window, looking in. She looked better, no more black-purple circles around her eyes, or paper white skin. It was already turning evening when the tests were done, and the woman smirked at him slightly, as Raphael came out. "Weaved your way out of the deal with the devil, eh? They must trust you a lot."
Or they were just lulling him into false sense of security and freedom. Leila knew that no moment, even when their paths split and he returned to his home, he would be without a spy at his heels.
(decided to help with the logs)
Raphael: "Just up to date wiring for internet, electric... Plumbing. Some tools to sand out, repaint, and hammer my old place into shape. A big toolbox, if you can. One last question." he threw out before leaving the doorway. "What's the chance I'm going to, say, detrioriate cellularly? You know... Here today, 80 tomorrow?" he was no genius... He just played metal gear solid. He wouldn't allow visual impact either way about it, but his eyes indicated that he was serious. Regardless, physicality was expectably good. IQ? Might be kinda sad by future terms. He wasn't exactly retarded but in his own way he was a simple man, and didn't even get his GED for years, struggled through college business courses. Book smarts were not his thing. Building, fixing... Okay. IQ test? Don't laugh too hard at his 110. He might have stretched a few more points with ego at the helm, but he did look tired. A few smart-ass remarks over mental stability testing, but all fairly normal.
Leila earned a snort. "Dealt with enough devils. They'll still chew at my heels. This time I don't have a girlfriend for them to bag." whatever... that meant. Still, he rubbed his forehead. "So, you gonna babysit me at home, too?"
Leila, Narrator: "Since your body was created anew to this point, and it's also just a copy of your mind, there is no possibility of that," was the man's simple answer before Raphael left.
Leila unfolded arms, one landing on her hip, among the soft lace waves around her waist, above the smooth material of the round skirt that ended a little under her knee, revealing a boot laced up high, and with thick sole. It could be strange to Raphael, seeing that someone still wore gothic and gothic lolita clothing, after all this time. If not for her unusual hair and eye color (but maybe those were contacts and she dyed them), she didn't seem like someone from 250 years far future.
"I hope not," she replied. Well, not in person, at least. "But maybe they will find a reason for me to." Leila was clearly not happy about such thought. She was sure that as soon as they found a mission, they would be paired up again. After all, the deal was not announced to be over. "Schorr is waiting for you," the woman said dryly and began walking towards said cabinet.
Raphael: Well..." he sighed. "I mean... You can come over whenever you want that isn't work. I don't exactly know... Anyone else." he furrowed his brows. "Maybe Ivana's... still alive?" he thought out loud. that would be... Awkward, but familiar. Until he had his supplies he'd have nothing else to do. Still, he snorted. "Gonna test me against a monkey, now?" regardless, back to Schorr! Maybe the insightful doctor could see he wanted to be... anywhere but there.
Leila, Narrator: Leila halted in midstep and looked over her shoulder, eyebrow quirked in "are you really that stupid?" manner. He had invited her over, as if she was some sort of medicine against loneliness that surely stared at him from every corner of mind possessed by memories. Then shrugging, she walked on like nothing had happened.
Raphael's invite most likely would never be accepted, but if something went wrong, she could always use it as excuse for barging in like tornado.
'Monkey would have better results,' Leila thought, but never said it out loud. Without a knock (apparently, she never bothered to bang on doors if there wasn't chance the man inside could be naked), the woman entered the cabinet. "Ah, here you come," Schorr said in pleasant voice and invited them both to sit down. The contract, with no apparent 'small print' was slid over the table to Raphael. It contained simple confidentiality 'secrecy' rules, which assured that neither of parties involved would spread where and with whom they were involved.
The air between Zachary and Leila was freezing. One could ponder if a tennis ball put in middle of their stares wouldn't stay hanging, covered in layer of ice. There wasn't a word spoken, apparently the scolding had happened previously. And although their gazes very evenly matched in coldness, in truth even Schorr felt a little uneasy about this young woman. Countless times, they had tried to figure just what made her tick and do things she did, but tangled up in endless labyrinths of events, weaving a surely fake life.
"Now, unless you have other requests, Miss Ragnarok will take you 'home'," he said, when the contract was signed and back in his hands. "It was a true pleasure meeting you, Mr. Emmerich. I look forward to working with you."
Somehow, the way Leila was not graced with any more words and left, gave impression she was Raphael's body guard of sorts. Slightly amusing thought, knowing the true dysfunctional nature of their partnership.
Raphael: Rafe... Blinked at her. "What? Did I score that bad? It was english, wasn't it? The english section got me." point missed. But into the signing. He squinted. Badly. He had to make sure there weren't words flat out disappearing in his bad focus. It seemed in order, and he reluctantly signed his name away. He was a dead man, anyway. But elsewise, he sighed. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'll probably be back with you in a few days. Do I need some sort of pass to get in?" otherwise he's ready to go.
Leila, Narrator: "For pass, you need photo, and unless you want to look like wild boar on it, it will have to wait. I will pick you up in two days," Leila briefed it up, as the elevator carried them down.
"You could've asked for laser surgery. Milk them for all they're worth," she added, getting in the car. Not only had Leila heard his muttering in shower, but the fact he was narrowing his eye like half blind fool was apparent. Not that she cared how well he saw the world, his dense nature... Ticked her off. She felt like she had to point everything out to him. And then, he tended to surprise her with some clever observation. Puzzling. And hellishly annoying.
Leila didn't have to look in any map now, to know where to take him. The path was well memorized, even if due to crazy sky traffic they seemed to completely change direction every now and then.
Raphael: He... Turned red. "It's not a good look, is it?" still, onward and upward. "Eh. I don't like being dependent. Take too much from them, they'll ask too much from me. I might be able to recover Leviathan and get it self performed. ...even if that was traumatic. ...is it really that obvious?" once home he stepped out. "I'll make sure the doorbell works still, in case you wanna come by. Until then... whatever." he saw himself in to descend to the basement... Only to make use of the lift system elevating his cycle into the garage.
Leila, Narrator: Leila actually rolled eyes at his question - a certain accomplish, although not from the ones you should be very proud of. "Although it reflects your intelligence level, it still looks awful." And it was true. She wasn't interested in men much, if at all, but still preferred company that looked at least somewhat civilized. The old clothes he wore already didn't help Raphael's image much.
"And you're again mistaken. They will pester you with same persistence and no "oh, but I didn't want anything from you" excuse won't work. Wouldn't work on anyone but you anyways." The bracelet was dim again, and Leila faintly shrugged.
"It's as obvious as little green alien prancing down the street would be in your days."
When he got off, without as much as goodbye, she drove off. His shadow shivered for half a second and then stilled, as the spy settled in it after the brief reunion with its Mistress.
Raphael: He could control his mind and body, but not his shadow. She had ample chance to know of his route to the old manor. But... The player needs to ask the other player about inside the mansion. There was some sort of protection barrier there I don't know the details of. Not sure if it's intension based, or antimagic or what. It was noticeable that a confused pair of young adults, one male with shaggy black hair and another with pink, were first confused, then shocked when he asked Tara, Tyler? And yanked him inside, babbling about thinking they were dead. By his gestures, he knew them when they were... small.
Leila, Narrator: Leila 'parked' outside the city, the vehicle hovering in the air, as she realized Raphael was heading somewhere in determined manner. All attention going to the man and his little spy, her vision went black, and then appeared again - a little shaky and blurry. At first, it seemed to be nothing, and she thought of letting the vision go, but then a shiver ran down her spine.
Whatever was ahead, it would block her. Indeed, the shadow spy was thrown out of Raphael's shadow and hid into the nearest black splotch. Few more attempts, also fruitless, as he was greeted by the pair. Strange that he knew them... Leila marked the location of the house in map, to later gather information what lived there. Maybe someone of the 1st or monster rank if they were still alive.
The shadow found a sewer entrance and seeped in. Determined to find a loophole, Leila guided it towards the house, so it could get in trough the plumbing system. If it worked, she loosened to link so it would not be so noticeable, if there was some magic alarm system within the house, but kept as close watch as possible, returning to her daily routine. If this attempt failed, she would cuss mentally, try few other things and eventually give up, irritated. Upon returning home, she started full scale research on the strange stone manor and its inhabitants.
Unfortunately, amid them, a task was put on her, and the lookout for information was paused for the night.
Rafe-Narrator
It's apparently a basic wall meant to keep out negative intent. Spying as a borderline objective, it may be able to slip in, but meet resistance by distance. Rafe had briefly gone out back with the kids where he met Ivana, who came in from the pool. The delay was probable to come in when he dropped into an enormous pillow style chair, seeming like he just lost a few hundred pounds of burden. If the shadows could navigate the manor--oddly up to date inside with sliding doors and modern amenities, clearly revamped--then they might get some intel. as for the manor, it hadn't passed hands often. For a few hundred years it was in the name of one man, and then to Ivana Madia, married to one Ash Hun'virr Madia who also was on the title along with Tara and Tyler Madia, presumably heirs. Speaking of Ty and Tara, they took their leave with childish flirtations and gossip when Ivana brought Rafe inside. (the rest is still ongoing play.)
additions: Ivana owned it since a few decades before Rafe's era. Ash Hun'virr Madia also was registered as married to several women, most in ages past, but stretching a few hundred years of record, with Ivana being among the still living, and since somewhere around 2030.
(( On this, I'll see about getting the log accordingly from the player, and posting it in a seperate thread so this stays more on cue.))
Raphael: "Just up to date wiring for internet, electric... Plumbing. Some tools to sand out, repaint, and hammer my old place into shape. A big toolbox, if you can. One last question." he threw out before leaving the doorway. "What's the chance I'm going to, say, detrioriate cellularly? You know... Here today, 80 tomorrow?" he was no genius... He just played metal gear solid. He wouldn't allow visual impact either way about it, but his eyes indicated that he was serious. Regardless, physicality was expectably good. IQ? Might be kinda sad by future terms. He wasn't exactly retarded but in his own way he was a simple man, and didn't even get his GED for years, struggled through college business courses. Book smarts were not his thing. Building, fixing... Okay. IQ test? Don't laugh too hard at his 110. He might have stretched a few more points with ego at the helm, but he did look tired. A few smart-ass remarks over mental stability testing, but all fairly normal.
Leila earned a snort. "Dealt with enough devils. They'll still chew at my heels. This time I don't have a girlfriend for them to bag." whatever... that meant. Still, he rubbed his forehead. "So, you gonna babysit me at home, too?"
Leila, Narrator: "Since your body was created anew to this point, and it's also just a copy of your mind, there is no possibility of that," was the man's simple answer before Raphael left.
Leila unfolded arms, one landing on her hip, among the soft lace waves around her waist, above the smooth material of the round skirt that ended a little under her knee, revealing a boot laced up high, and with thick sole. It could be strange to Raphael, seeing that someone still wore gothic and gothic lolita clothing, after all this time. If not for her unusual hair and eye color (but maybe those were contacts and she dyed them), she didn't seem like someone from 250 years far future.
"I hope not," she replied. Well, not in person, at least. "But maybe they will find a reason for me to." Leila was clearly not happy about such thought. She was sure that as soon as they found a mission, they would be paired up again. After all, the deal was not announced to be over. "Schorr is waiting for you," the woman said dryly and began walking towards said cabinet.
Raphael: Well..." he sighed. "I mean... You can come over whenever you want that isn't work. I don't exactly know... Anyone else." he furrowed his brows. "Maybe Ivana's... still alive?" he thought out loud. that would be... Awkward, but familiar. Until he had his supplies he'd have nothing else to do. Still, he snorted. "Gonna test me against a monkey, now?" regardless, back to Schorr! Maybe the insightful doctor could see he wanted to be... anywhere but there.
Leila, Narrator: Leila halted in midstep and looked over her shoulder, eyebrow quirked in "are you really that stupid?" manner. He had invited her over, as if she was some sort of medicine against loneliness that surely stared at him from every corner of mind possessed by memories. Then shrugging, she walked on like nothing had happened.
Raphael's invite most likely would never be accepted, but if something went wrong, she could always use it as excuse for barging in like tornado.
'Monkey would have better results,' Leila thought, but never said it out loud. Without a knock (apparently, she never bothered to bang on doors if there wasn't chance the man inside could be naked), the woman entered the cabinet. "Ah, here you come," Schorr said in pleasant voice and invited them both to sit down. The contract, with no apparent 'small print' was slid over the table to Raphael. It contained simple confidentiality 'secrecy' rules, which assured that neither of parties involved would spread where and with whom they were involved.
The air between Zachary and Leila was freezing. One could ponder if a tennis ball put in middle of their stares wouldn't stay hanging, covered in layer of ice. There wasn't a word spoken, apparently the scolding had happened previously. And although their gazes very evenly matched in coldness, in truth even Schorr felt a little uneasy about this young woman. Countless times, they had tried to figure just what made her tick and do things she did, but tangled up in endless labyrinths of events, weaving a surely fake life.
"Now, unless you have other requests, Miss Ragnarok will take you 'home'," he said, when the contract was signed and back in his hands. "It was a true pleasure meeting you, Mr. Emmerich. I look forward to working with you."
Somehow, the way Leila was not graced with any more words and left, gave impression she was Raphael's body guard of sorts. Slightly amusing thought, knowing the true dysfunctional nature of their partnership.
Raphael: Rafe... Blinked at her. "What? Did I score that bad? It was english, wasn't it? The english section got me." point missed. But into the signing. He squinted. Badly. He had to make sure there weren't words flat out disappearing in his bad focus. It seemed in order, and he reluctantly signed his name away. He was a dead man, anyway. But elsewise, he sighed. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'll probably be back with you in a few days. Do I need some sort of pass to get in?" otherwise he's ready to go.
Leila, Narrator: "For pass, you need photo, and unless you want to look like wild boar on it, it will have to wait. I will pick you up in two days," Leila briefed it up, as the elevator carried them down.
"You could've asked for laser surgery. Milk them for all they're worth," she added, getting in the car. Not only had Leila heard his muttering in shower, but the fact he was narrowing his eye like half blind fool was apparent. Not that she cared how well he saw the world, his dense nature... Ticked her off. She felt like she had to point everything out to him. And then, he tended to surprise her with some clever observation. Puzzling. And hellishly annoying.
Leila didn't have to look in any map now, to know where to take him. The path was well memorized, even if due to crazy sky traffic they seemed to completely change direction every now and then.
Raphael: He... Turned red. "It's not a good look, is it?" still, onward and upward. "Eh. I don't like being dependent. Take too much from them, they'll ask too much from me. I might be able to recover Leviathan and get it self performed. ...even if that was traumatic. ...is it really that obvious?" once home he stepped out. "I'll make sure the doorbell works still, in case you wanna come by. Until then... whatever." he saw himself in to descend to the basement... Only to make use of the lift system elevating his cycle into the garage.
Leila, Narrator: Leila actually rolled eyes at his question - a certain accomplish, although not from the ones you should be very proud of. "Although it reflects your intelligence level, it still looks awful." And it was true. She wasn't interested in men much, if at all, but still preferred company that looked at least somewhat civilized. The old clothes he wore already didn't help Raphael's image much.
"And you're again mistaken. They will pester you with same persistence and no "oh, but I didn't want anything from you" excuse won't work. Wouldn't work on anyone but you anyways." The bracelet was dim again, and Leila faintly shrugged.
"It's as obvious as little green alien prancing down the street would be in your days."
When he got off, without as much as goodbye, she drove off. His shadow shivered for half a second and then stilled, as the spy settled in it after the brief reunion with its Mistress.
Raphael: He could control his mind and body, but not his shadow. She had ample chance to know of his route to the old manor. But... The player needs to ask the other player about inside the mansion. There was some sort of protection barrier there I don't know the details of. Not sure if it's intension based, or antimagic or what. It was noticeable that a confused pair of young adults, one male with shaggy black hair and another with pink, were first confused, then shocked when he asked Tara, Tyler? And yanked him inside, babbling about thinking they were dead. By his gestures, he knew them when they were... small.
Leila, Narrator: Leila 'parked' outside the city, the vehicle hovering in the air, as she realized Raphael was heading somewhere in determined manner. All attention going to the man and his little spy, her vision went black, and then appeared again - a little shaky and blurry. At first, it seemed to be nothing, and she thought of letting the vision go, but then a shiver ran down her spine.
Whatever was ahead, it would block her. Indeed, the shadow spy was thrown out of Raphael's shadow and hid into the nearest black splotch. Few more attempts, also fruitless, as he was greeted by the pair. Strange that he knew them... Leila marked the location of the house in map, to later gather information what lived there. Maybe someone of the 1st or monster rank if they were still alive.
The shadow found a sewer entrance and seeped in. Determined to find a loophole, Leila guided it towards the house, so it could get in trough the plumbing system. If it worked, she loosened to link so it would not be so noticeable, if there was some magic alarm system within the house, but kept as close watch as possible, returning to her daily routine. If this attempt failed, she would cuss mentally, try few other things and eventually give up, irritated. Upon returning home, she started full scale research on the strange stone manor and its inhabitants.
Unfortunately, amid them, a task was put on her, and the lookout for information was paused for the night.
Rafe-Narrator
It's apparently a basic wall meant to keep out negative intent. Spying as a borderline objective, it may be able to slip in, but meet resistance by distance. Rafe had briefly gone out back with the kids where he met Ivana, who came in from the pool. The delay was probable to come in when he dropped into an enormous pillow style chair, seeming like he just lost a few hundred pounds of burden. If the shadows could navigate the manor--oddly up to date inside with sliding doors and modern amenities, clearly revamped--then they might get some intel. as for the manor, it hadn't passed hands often. For a few hundred years it was in the name of one man, and then to Ivana Madia, married to one Ash Hun'virr Madia who also was on the title along with Tara and Tyler Madia, presumably heirs. Speaking of Ty and Tara, they took their leave with childish flirtations and gossip when Ivana brought Rafe inside. (the rest is still ongoing play.)
additions: Ivana owned it since a few decades before Rafe's era. Ash Hun'virr Madia also was registered as married to several women, most in ages past, but stretching a few hundred years of record, with Ivana being among the still living, and since somewhere around 2030.
(( On this, I'll see about getting the log accordingly from the player, and posting it in a seperate thread so this stays more on cue.))
Leila Ragnarok, Narrator:
Small fingers of 10 years old girl, clutching beautiful dress. "But Madame, I don't want to wear this dress.."
"But why, my dear? It is the most beautiful gown and you deserve nothing less, little princess."
Sharp voice, hand on her shoulder, gentle for now.
"The other girls... they envy and dislike me for the dresses... They don't want to be my friends."
The grip tightens, causing pain. She bites lip to not whimper. That would earn extra lashes tonight.
"There are no such thing as friends, Adelais. Only people who will betray you in the end. And you need no one, you are perfect, little one. The very best. That is why they envy you."
Plate with delicious food she pushes around. She doesn't want to eat, she doesn't want anything from this. If she could starve to death, it would be wonderful.
"Darling," again that voice she both fears and hates. "Why don't you eat? You must stay strong." A kiss on her forehead, and then Madame leaves.
Murmurs around her. The girls rumor how she is the Heir. The spoiled one. They will never talk with her, because she is so high and mighty. There is nothing, nothing that makes her better than others. Only Madame. And oh, how they all want to be Madame's precious one.
"Adelais, it is time."
"Madame, why? I was good girl today..." small whimper escapes her.
"You know I have to. Until you stop crying. Come here."
She complies, pulling off the dress and turning her back to Madame. If she didn't, it would be even worse.
First lash is always so hard. She arches and cries out. It hurts, it burns.
"Adelais! Stop crying! Lock out the pain! Ignore it! You MUST." More lashes, and she can't help but cry. It hurts, so much. Her back has never been given time to heal, the old wounds of yesterday and every night before that, open up under the whip.
"Banish the pain from your mind! You can, you have to! NOW."
The last lash, and she falls forwards, unable to stand anymore. She doesn't even sob now, only silent tears stream down her face.
Madame cleans her wounds. It burns. But if she will as much as cry one tear or whimper, Madame will pour more onto them so it really hurts bad. While she sits there, Madame tells her again how to create a room in her mind, where pain doesn't get in. Madame does this every night. When she finds that room, she will never feel pain again, so says Madame. And within that room, she will have to find room where no emotions reach in. That will be next step. Then she will be true perfection.
Leila woke up, face wet with sweat - or maybe tears? Stiffly, the woman got up and glanced at clock. 5am in the morning. Not bad time to start the day. She showered, wishing the hot water could wash away the cold grip of dream. But it was imprinted in her skin, in her soul. The mirror showed thin and thicker line webbing all over her back and lower, on her shoulders. Leila looked away. She didn't have to see, to know where each and every one of them went. They ached in ghostly way this morning.
Mug of coffee, steaming on the table in front of her. Whispered, comforting words of only beings that knew it all in her ears. Dull gaze, until the white mug started to blur. Crash! Leila watched as the liquid seeped down the tiled wall, face expresionless as if it hadn't been her hand to throw it. Enough with the memories. Madame had been right about one thing - she was perfect. The very best. And one by one, her enemies would be shattered under her force, just like this cup.
Leila worked in the small training room for 2 hours. When the excessive hate and pain generated energy was worked out, she showered again and returned to the research.For a while, she watched the 'video' gathered by the spy, who was still succesfully lurking. Apparently, this was a chasing away the loneliness more than anything else. An old friend, or one of his exes. More like one of ex'es. Digging trough the information files, Leila became more and more surprised.
Ivana, her husband (and his many other wives), Luci that swam up in the records and some other... They were no regular humans by Raphael's life standarts. Ash was even something off charts. He was considered Antique Monster rank, but to her belief, he was not a human at all. The brief records on this person surely were a coverup for some deep and rather dark story. So, what was Raphael? The more she learned about him, the stranger it became.
"Oh, Zofie, looks like you have no idea what wolf in sheep's skin you have let inside," she murmured. If Ivana and Ash were his allies -- this moment, the shadow spy shrunk and backed off, as Ash entered the scene. Leila could feel how anxious the shadow servant was. It feared to be noticed and so, got away as far as possible without leaving the house altogether. Yes, if these were to be Raphael's allies, he was indeed a force many had to reckon with. So, how much did he know about the world outside the frames of human's mind from 250 years before? He couldn't be oblivious to that they are different, because he had sought them out, assured they were alive. Would they tell him that their kind did not have to hide anymore? Interesting, interesting... Especially because it seemed Ash and Raphael were not on friendly terms. Wife, her reborn ex-lover, her husband - what a theater this all was turning into!
Raphael
Rafe--just a man. That didn't mean his associates were. His genetic data was pure, uncorrupted human; no special powers, no enhancements, even some gaps such as his vision, which would continue to degenerate until corrected. But Ash... Well, in some ways he might have founded generational corruption, albeit thousands of years before. Open in the world or not... Accepted, or not, he still played the ruse of a man. He didn't care to flaunt what came with truth about him. He saw it as bane, while others... Gave attention he did not want. Rafe retired to the outdoors, laying on the cement of the pool a bed of coals, which he traditionally ignited while the married pair loomed inside, Ivana preparing french toast. -Mm.- Ash wasn't much for words. -He brings something foreign with him. A... darkness?- he stared out the window. -It was not there when I met him before.- he watched, detached, as the man took a painful, destructive training, barefoot over the coals. Much like Leila, he learned to seal out pain. He ended up swearing profusely when his arms gave out early in the attempt to hand stand amidst it, leaving him crashing to the ground. -...For a human, he certainly is... Persistant. You would think it was he that had Vuh-Popul's blood.- Ivana laughed at that idea. Via? -...well, Popul's, then.- but no. Clearly, they were talking about someone else having unusual blood.
They chattered absently, Ivana informing him of sparse bits she knew: yes, he had died as was expectable. Someone brought him back. No, he wouldn't say who or why. -...Hah. The Wraith. He certainly picked the right name.- Ivana was shocked. How had Ash known? -...I went to war with his protoge at my wing. How else?- he could have at least told her. He retired to silence, not indulging the argument and stirring a new cup of coffee, doctored nearly exotically.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila wondered briefly, if trough the training he had again picked up, he was banishing not only the physical, but also mental pain the old friends... acquaintances brought back. Was he thinking, why them still here, but not his wife? Or my children? Maybe he didn't think at all.
As expected, Ash felt the shadow's presence. But at least he did not immediately link it to the true force. There were few, maybe not even half a dozen, who were in true tune with the Shadow side and if someone like him wanted to trace her down... He would be able to. This man... being would not get tangled up in changed true facts, and false ones. Leila shivered. Such raw power. Yet, she did not envy him, like many would. Detached he seemed, and no wonder. How many had he seen pass away? Maybe he had cared at first, for every woman and their children in his life, but then, it was easier to experience flings that passed away than love that grew and branched trough whole heart, tearing apart when the person unavoidably left for forever.
But those were only speculations. Would an inhuman like him even feel something, be able to? Leila didn't know. But for all the years he had, and all the power, she did not envy him. Guiding the shadow carefully, to keep an eye at the couple inside, and the main object of her interest, she anchored it there and then began virtually sneaking trough data walls of Zofie Corporation. She needed data, clean, true data of Raphael's DNS. Was he 'recovered' in the cloning process, or before? And if he would be, what would be his power? Was it all truly based on absolute mind control over his own body, as it began to seem?
Raphael
Fling perhaps. Even the married life seemed... fleeting. After her lamenting her husband's absence, he came at some point by night and... was quickly dismissing himself by the morning. She was an emotional individual and he... stood more like a pillar while she clung before Ash saw himself out. A few hours of scorching himself on coals, Raphael walked back into the house, shirt over his shoulders like a towel and step unwavering until he took a seat, where everything shut back down and he hissed. Ivana fretted over his feet, broiled and bubbling, not unlike his hands and parts of his torso from repeated tumbles. That's why his feet used to look like that?! Apparently ivana was discovering a lot about him, and convinced him finally to let her disinfect, salve and bind his feet and hands. She tried to slip off the metal bands on his hands, but he resisted and just let her tend the fingers before reprising his gloves. Beyond that, the cuts from shower and new burns had a motherly side come out, binding him up.
"I'm a mummy." he complained, only to be slapped on the shoulder. Regardless, he slid his shirt back on and ...was ready to leave, but forced back to sit and eat a traditional breakfast. Soon, he headed out, only to be glomp-hugged clingily, which turned him beet red, leaving him standing awkwardly. He'd return, he promised. Work to do, after all. But with a cleared head and bandaged body, he went back home to tend to himself, shave, and... Stare at his computer in the underground, reviewing different files now... cases and mysteries past, some remembered and others not.
His genetic file was clean, traditional human. Mother, jennifer emmerich, father jason emmerich, half brothers gabriel alexander (father: Brian Muriel or Alipes Conti, contested, unresolved by paternity test), and half brother michael (jennifer emmerich remarried to john starkovich, mike's father). None seemed impressive, save for gabriel's contested parents, namely brian, as alipes seemed to be a quiet lawyer married to a quieter woman afew hundred years ago and disappeared since.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila rolled eyes, watching the unfolding scenes. So, marriage was dwindling - again or maybe still - and this Ivana thought maybe she could get Raphael back in her arms? Would make sense - she was something from his past, a link to it. No responsibility asked of him, just support and understanding all around. Pah. She pushed away the clingy scenes and returned to research with full attention.
The information was nothing that she hadn't already know, therefor it was frustrating. But Leila had little to no knowledge about gene engineering, even the files with information of his genetic code didn't help her much. It would take her a while to quietly decipher them. Zofie 'spiffied up' information wouldn't work, besides she didn't want to point out at this factor just yet.
Headache crept up and although she ignored it, in the end, the woman gave in and took some painkillers. Somehow, this was being more difficult than planned. Leila searched out information on Raphael's half siblings, and also his own offspring, to find where their blood line had been carried to. Not important, yet, but could be vital later on.
Raphael
Gabriel had no biological heirs. He married a man and adopted. Michael went through a few unsuccessful marriages, spawned a few children and they moved on. Family hadn't seemed important to him. Rafe on the other hand took a day to himself. A mix of physical training and reviewing history. He shaved, cleaned up and ditched the beastman look, although by the time they came to pick him up the next day his face would already be shadowed. They were likely to find him hanging on a rope tied at the feet over the porch and... trying to do vertical situps. Doing anything normally clearly wasn't like him. Rafe had read Ivana differently... But hell, maybe Leila was right. Still, as far as he knew, the tall man had always been like that--juggling wives and responsibilities, neither of which Rafe cared to dig deep into. Finding out about demonic mobster activity was not on his to do list unless it made a big enough impact to demand intervention.
Small fingers of 10 years old girl, clutching beautiful dress. "But Madame, I don't want to wear this dress.."
"But why, my dear? It is the most beautiful gown and you deserve nothing less, little princess."
Sharp voice, hand on her shoulder, gentle for now.
"The other girls... they envy and dislike me for the dresses... They don't want to be my friends."
The grip tightens, causing pain. She bites lip to not whimper. That would earn extra lashes tonight.
"There are no such thing as friends, Adelais. Only people who will betray you in the end. And you need no one, you are perfect, little one. The very best. That is why they envy you."
Plate with delicious food she pushes around. She doesn't want to eat, she doesn't want anything from this. If she could starve to death, it would be wonderful.
"Darling," again that voice she both fears and hates. "Why don't you eat? You must stay strong." A kiss on her forehead, and then Madame leaves.
Murmurs around her. The girls rumor how she is the Heir. The spoiled one. They will never talk with her, because she is so high and mighty. There is nothing, nothing that makes her better than others. Only Madame. And oh, how they all want to be Madame's precious one.
"Adelais, it is time."
"Madame, why? I was good girl today..." small whimper escapes her.
"You know I have to. Until you stop crying. Come here."
She complies, pulling off the dress and turning her back to Madame. If she didn't, it would be even worse.
First lash is always so hard. She arches and cries out. It hurts, it burns.
"Adelais! Stop crying! Lock out the pain! Ignore it! You MUST." More lashes, and she can't help but cry. It hurts, so much. Her back has never been given time to heal, the old wounds of yesterday and every night before that, open up under the whip.
"Banish the pain from your mind! You can, you have to! NOW."
The last lash, and she falls forwards, unable to stand anymore. She doesn't even sob now, only silent tears stream down her face.
Madame cleans her wounds. It burns. But if she will as much as cry one tear or whimper, Madame will pour more onto them so it really hurts bad. While she sits there, Madame tells her again how to create a room in her mind, where pain doesn't get in. Madame does this every night. When she finds that room, she will never feel pain again, so says Madame. And within that room, she will have to find room where no emotions reach in. That will be next step. Then she will be true perfection.
Leila woke up, face wet with sweat - or maybe tears? Stiffly, the woman got up and glanced at clock. 5am in the morning. Not bad time to start the day. She showered, wishing the hot water could wash away the cold grip of dream. But it was imprinted in her skin, in her soul. The mirror showed thin and thicker line webbing all over her back and lower, on her shoulders. Leila looked away. She didn't have to see, to know where each and every one of them went. They ached in ghostly way this morning.
Mug of coffee, steaming on the table in front of her. Whispered, comforting words of only beings that knew it all in her ears. Dull gaze, until the white mug started to blur. Crash! Leila watched as the liquid seeped down the tiled wall, face expresionless as if it hadn't been her hand to throw it. Enough with the memories. Madame had been right about one thing - she was perfect. The very best. And one by one, her enemies would be shattered under her force, just like this cup.
Leila worked in the small training room for 2 hours. When the excessive hate and pain generated energy was worked out, she showered again and returned to the research.For a while, she watched the 'video' gathered by the spy, who was still succesfully lurking. Apparently, this was a chasing away the loneliness more than anything else. An old friend, or one of his exes. More like one of ex'es. Digging trough the information files, Leila became more and more surprised.
Ivana, her husband (and his many other wives), Luci that swam up in the records and some other... They were no regular humans by Raphael's life standarts. Ash was even something off charts. He was considered Antique Monster rank, but to her belief, he was not a human at all. The brief records on this person surely were a coverup for some deep and rather dark story. So, what was Raphael? The more she learned about him, the stranger it became.
"Oh, Zofie, looks like you have no idea what wolf in sheep's skin you have let inside," she murmured. If Ivana and Ash were his allies -- this moment, the shadow spy shrunk and backed off, as Ash entered the scene. Leila could feel how anxious the shadow servant was. It feared to be noticed and so, got away as far as possible without leaving the house altogether. Yes, if these were to be Raphael's allies, he was indeed a force many had to reckon with. So, how much did he know about the world outside the frames of human's mind from 250 years before? He couldn't be oblivious to that they are different, because he had sought them out, assured they were alive. Would they tell him that their kind did not have to hide anymore? Interesting, interesting... Especially because it seemed Ash and Raphael were not on friendly terms. Wife, her reborn ex-lover, her husband - what a theater this all was turning into!
Raphael
Rafe--just a man. That didn't mean his associates were. His genetic data was pure, uncorrupted human; no special powers, no enhancements, even some gaps such as his vision, which would continue to degenerate until corrected. But Ash... Well, in some ways he might have founded generational corruption, albeit thousands of years before. Open in the world or not... Accepted, or not, he still played the ruse of a man. He didn't care to flaunt what came with truth about him. He saw it as bane, while others... Gave attention he did not want. Rafe retired to the outdoors, laying on the cement of the pool a bed of coals, which he traditionally ignited while the married pair loomed inside, Ivana preparing french toast. -Mm.- Ash wasn't much for words. -He brings something foreign with him. A... darkness?- he stared out the window. -It was not there when I met him before.- he watched, detached, as the man took a painful, destructive training, barefoot over the coals. Much like Leila, he learned to seal out pain. He ended up swearing profusely when his arms gave out early in the attempt to hand stand amidst it, leaving him crashing to the ground. -...For a human, he certainly is... Persistant. You would think it was he that had Vuh-Popul's blood.- Ivana laughed at that idea. Via? -...well, Popul's, then.- but no. Clearly, they were talking about someone else having unusual blood.
They chattered absently, Ivana informing him of sparse bits she knew: yes, he had died as was expectable. Someone brought him back. No, he wouldn't say who or why. -...Hah. The Wraith. He certainly picked the right name.- Ivana was shocked. How had Ash known? -...I went to war with his protoge at my wing. How else?- he could have at least told her. He retired to silence, not indulging the argument and stirring a new cup of coffee, doctored nearly exotically.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila wondered briefly, if trough the training he had again picked up, he was banishing not only the physical, but also mental pain the old friends... acquaintances brought back. Was he thinking, why them still here, but not his wife? Or my children? Maybe he didn't think at all.
As expected, Ash felt the shadow's presence. But at least he did not immediately link it to the true force. There were few, maybe not even half a dozen, who were in true tune with the Shadow side and if someone like him wanted to trace her down... He would be able to. This man... being would not get tangled up in changed true facts, and false ones. Leila shivered. Such raw power. Yet, she did not envy him, like many would. Detached he seemed, and no wonder. How many had he seen pass away? Maybe he had cared at first, for every woman and their children in his life, but then, it was easier to experience flings that passed away than love that grew and branched trough whole heart, tearing apart when the person unavoidably left for forever.
But those were only speculations. Would an inhuman like him even feel something, be able to? Leila didn't know. But for all the years he had, and all the power, she did not envy him. Guiding the shadow carefully, to keep an eye at the couple inside, and the main object of her interest, she anchored it there and then began virtually sneaking trough data walls of Zofie Corporation. She needed data, clean, true data of Raphael's DNS. Was he 'recovered' in the cloning process, or before? And if he would be, what would be his power? Was it all truly based on absolute mind control over his own body, as it began to seem?
Raphael
Fling perhaps. Even the married life seemed... fleeting. After her lamenting her husband's absence, he came at some point by night and... was quickly dismissing himself by the morning. She was an emotional individual and he... stood more like a pillar while she clung before Ash saw himself out. A few hours of scorching himself on coals, Raphael walked back into the house, shirt over his shoulders like a towel and step unwavering until he took a seat, where everything shut back down and he hissed. Ivana fretted over his feet, broiled and bubbling, not unlike his hands and parts of his torso from repeated tumbles. That's why his feet used to look like that?! Apparently ivana was discovering a lot about him, and convinced him finally to let her disinfect, salve and bind his feet and hands. She tried to slip off the metal bands on his hands, but he resisted and just let her tend the fingers before reprising his gloves. Beyond that, the cuts from shower and new burns had a motherly side come out, binding him up.
"I'm a mummy." he complained, only to be slapped on the shoulder. Regardless, he slid his shirt back on and ...was ready to leave, but forced back to sit and eat a traditional breakfast. Soon, he headed out, only to be glomp-hugged clingily, which turned him beet red, leaving him standing awkwardly. He'd return, he promised. Work to do, after all. But with a cleared head and bandaged body, he went back home to tend to himself, shave, and... Stare at his computer in the underground, reviewing different files now... cases and mysteries past, some remembered and others not.
His genetic file was clean, traditional human. Mother, jennifer emmerich, father jason emmerich, half brothers gabriel alexander (father: Brian Muriel or Alipes Conti, contested, unresolved by paternity test), and half brother michael (jennifer emmerich remarried to john starkovich, mike's father). None seemed impressive, save for gabriel's contested parents, namely brian, as alipes seemed to be a quiet lawyer married to a quieter woman afew hundred years ago and disappeared since.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila rolled eyes, watching the unfolding scenes. So, marriage was dwindling - again or maybe still - and this Ivana thought maybe she could get Raphael back in her arms? Would make sense - she was something from his past, a link to it. No responsibility asked of him, just support and understanding all around. Pah. She pushed away the clingy scenes and returned to research with full attention.
The information was nothing that she hadn't already know, therefor it was frustrating. But Leila had little to no knowledge about gene engineering, even the files with information of his genetic code didn't help her much. It would take her a while to quietly decipher them. Zofie 'spiffied up' information wouldn't work, besides she didn't want to point out at this factor just yet.
Headache crept up and although she ignored it, in the end, the woman gave in and took some painkillers. Somehow, this was being more difficult than planned. Leila searched out information on Raphael's half siblings, and also his own offspring, to find where their blood line had been carried to. Not important, yet, but could be vital later on.
Raphael
Gabriel had no biological heirs. He married a man and adopted. Michael went through a few unsuccessful marriages, spawned a few children and they moved on. Family hadn't seemed important to him. Rafe on the other hand took a day to himself. A mix of physical training and reviewing history. He shaved, cleaned up and ditched the beastman look, although by the time they came to pick him up the next day his face would already be shadowed. They were likely to find him hanging on a rope tied at the feet over the porch and... trying to do vertical situps. Doing anything normally clearly wasn't like him. Rafe had read Ivana differently... But hell, maybe Leila was right. Still, as far as he knew, the tall man had always been like that--juggling wives and responsibilities, neither of which Rafe cared to dig deep into. Finding out about demonic mobster activity was not on his to do list unless it made a big enough impact to demand intervention.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila leaned against doorway, head tilting to the side as she watched the man exercise. He was indeed restless. She felt a little drowsy today, due to the strong pain killers (the headache was persistent) and another package of dreams and memories mixed together in nightmares, but on outside, she seemed as emotionless as always.
"Want me to tie the rope to my car and transport you that way?" she asked, in nearly friendly tone, as if it was the most common invite in whole wide world. The vision of such thing amused her and relieved a bit of pent up anger. No exercise sessions got that out of her.
Raphael
He had missed her during the first repetitions while she was there, belatedly noticing the striking white hair and remaining hanging to talk, arms descending to brace on the guard rail. "Yeah, then they'd have to start all over on me. That and it'd mess up my bandages." one final situp seemed infinitely harder after that few seconds of rest and he... Untied himself. And fell. His reflexes still failed to grab the rope on descent like he used to. He crashed a few times and slumped, letting out a string of profanities. He stood and wobbled. This experiment might work himself to death before anything. It would be easy to see a pounding pulse in several areas. "See?" he grimaced. "All ready for photo op." he tried to grin in spite. No shag! Just scruff. "What's up with you? It's almost like you have a sense of humor today or something."
Leila Ragnarok
Her eyebrows rose, at the little display of "fail", but otherwise she refrained from comments. However, she helped him up, grabbing by scruff.
"Good point, babysitters aren't given spare parts. So, all original still in tact and functioning?" She looked Rapehael up and down, without a woman's interest that would mostly be in such gazes, checking out the bandages. If she was right, then the burns were worse than it had seemed trough the vision.
"And my humor sense has always been here, just took you time to notice," Leila retorted dryly. It by no means softened her rather harsh comments however, because her humor sense was just as mean and twisted as her self. Even if it had been sarcasm from him, she didn't bother with replying in same way. The woman got into the car, the sliding door open invitingly for Raphael. However, the vehicle had strange scratches in the paint, all over.
The machine hummed softly, as they - in not so insane manner - went back to Corporation building. It was indeed tall, all white and glass, really standing out in the scenery, although there was bunch of other similar buildings nearby. Leila replied to few greetings on their way, and this time they took stairs.
Leila didn't enter in the room, where he was asked few basic questions by bored looking man, and had a quick photo taken. It took 3 more minutes for the ID to be handed over to Raphael, still warm.
"So, mister legal employee, where shall I take you? Home or you have some special requests from the babysitter?" she asked, when the man exited.
Raphael
"Ah, ah, ah!" he complained, suddenly finding strength to stand. He feigned a puppy dog pout, similar to how he convinced elsie to go to Pizza Shack. "Geez... You don't give a guy any breaks." but reprising his shirt, he stopped at the car, missing the scratches. Eyes, after all. The ID was squinted at. "Not for her, but you. Figured you could do something about these." he pointed at either eyes. "I forgot how bad my vision was getting at this age." hey, might as well milk them, right? "Something to be done about that? If I'm to help out, I probably shouldn't be going blind."
Leila Ragnarok
This man... He was certainly older than her, in mind, for at least 5 or 6 years, but acted like some teen. Leila shook her head lightly. How one could be so self destructive and tough, yet so childish at the same time? She couldn't comprehend it fully, but was glad for the silence trough the ride.
"Some sensible word from you," Leila commented. "Wait here and don't hope I will hold your hand trough the scary part." She left to give the message to someone and after 15 minutes, he was taken the room few floors above where the operations of this kind took place. It was even easier and simpler, no previous preparations, than the one he had went trough in his past life. The doctor and nurse was skillful and in another 20 minutes, it was done. His sight now was sharper than ever and would take a bit to get used to.
"So, where to now, Mr employee? Maybe volcano you would like to take a dip in?" the woman asked, sitting on small chair in the waiting room, sipping coffee in casual manner.
Raphael
He didn't expect it... right then. "Right... Now? Uh... Give me... a minute." he was trying to clock the wraith in, but it was a little hard when he was already shaken. Laser eye surgery actually terrified him. She might be able to see his eyes glancing about, like he was looking for an escape on the way. "Isn't there... Like... a sedative?" probably unlikely since his eyes had to be open and reactive. HOW had he gotten it before? It was forced. It would take more than a share of coaxing... and possibly a few restraints... To make him sit still. He came out sheet white, staring at Leila. "Not until I toughen my skin back up." ...now take a guess if he's serious or not.
Leila Ragnarok
"At least you can go on your merry ways and not worry about having any business here for a while," she shrugged. He had turned all baby again, apparently scared and shaken from the surgery. So tough about battles, scared from a little laser.
"Come on, you baby," she scoffed a little, dropping the cup in the can, where it was immediately recycled. Before they exited the building, Leila handed him huge sunglasses without a word.
She put on radio for about one song length, but the noisy, no lyric music was rather annoying, so Leila turned it off soon. They stopped by a big building. It seemed to be theater or cinema of sorts, and she bought one ticket for him. It was chip, with no visible information, except few numbers. Apparently, they were right in time for a show.
"Go on, enjoy your self," Leila smiled sweetly, gently 'pushing' him towards the entry in showroom. "I need to take care of some grown up business. I will be back by time it is finished."
If he went in, and found the truth of the show that way, or managed to squeeze information out of someone, it was a robot-doll show, a retelling of an old fairy tale of Goldilock and three bears. Although the group of children with their mothers and grandmothers gave the type of show away.
Raphael
"Oh, god this looks dorky." he griped about the glasses, and... Got a ticket? "A show?" he sounded confused. "Did you... Just buy me a ticket to a show?" he looked between it and her. "Hey, thanks." he smiled. No idea what he was seeing, but... that was as close to kindness as she'd shown, in her own little way. She coulda just locked him in a box. He gave sloppy salute for no real reason. "See you soon. Next one's on me." once he has... Money. And... Inside. Might as well make use of it. ...he's an odd one.
Leila Ragnarok
Inside, Leila was a little flabbergasted. He seemed to be perfectly fine with the kiddy show. "Geez," she murmured, getting in the car. She had expected some retort that would put her down a little, or downright refusal to see the show. But not big smile in sincere manner.
The deal was with a gunmaker, and after a short debate, she got the parts she needed, stacking the few boxes in the back of vehicle. Next was another weapon maker, who supplied her with parts for her crossbows and the like. When Raphael came, she was relaxing in the car, already visualizing her new, better weapon and making a list of things to upgrade on her car. First would be a new paint, for sure... She didn't like her only true "baby" looking shaggy like this.
Before the final stop at his home, Leila stopped by flying "drive-thru" which apparently offered not only burgers and mini-pizzas, but also ice cream. Somehow, her energy kept running low, low and lower today...
Although the woman pondered being evil and getting one only for her self, he also got a cup of his choice. If anything, ice cream was made to be shared! Hers was double black chocolate with cranberry sauce, with chocolate sprinkles on top. Vehicle went on half auto-pilot mode as she indulged in one of her true weaknesses.
"Here," she handed him a small card that flicked with information only when someone slid finger over it, and only for brief moment. Maybe it only recognized certain people touches. It contained nothing but phone number. "If you ever need to get in touch with me." Of course, calling her name out loud and telling to come would work as well, but she wouldn't tell him that. She was no genie from lamp to allow her self to be summoned like that.
Raphael:
He ... Probably looked somewhat downcast when stepping out, but wouldn't readily divulge why. How couldn't he think about his kids? Regardless... With new, sharp eyes he spotted the scratches, kneeling and putting a hand on the side of the car rather than getting in. "Yeowch... How long has that been there?" bad eyes make it easy to miss a lot. "Need me to take care of it? Unless you guys use, like, super hi tech paint too now or something." regardless of answer, he slid in and... Looked surprised at a drive thru. He figured people probably downloaded most food now or something. "Um..." he took a while. "Whatever you suggest." he had no idea what to pick out modernly. Reaching out he took the card, turning it over. "...movie, food and your number? did we just go on a date?" he tried to smile with signs of wear still showing through. Try not to kill him.
Leila Ragnarok:
"Pssh, dream on. I am just being a good babysitter. Don't they usually give treats after visit to the doctor?" Against her own will, her tone became a little downcast, in strong contrast with nearly playfully ticked off one from the beginning of the sentence. Few images, or more like feelings, flashed trough her mind. Warm embrace of mother, lavender scent enveloping her: "mommy, mommy, doctor said my teeth are perfect!"
But it was gone in a moment, and the stare was dull again, pointed out the window. "Okay, move your rear-end out now. Babysitting has come to an end for the day," she waved at the man in a little impatient manner. Damn unexpected memory flow. He was turning into bad influence.
She hadn't turned the offer to paint her car down, or accepted it. Leila didn't like anyone touching things that were hers. But she hadn't felt the need to inform Raphael of this fact. For ice cream, he got vanilla-blackberry and chocolate sprinkles. A little sweet, a little sour.
Leila drove off, turning Emilie Autumn as loud as possible without making her ears bleed. Well, except for some of the violin solos, that is.
Raphael:
"Right." he looked at her, disbelieving. "And what'd you go in for?" he scoffed. "Uh... Well, you know where to get me about that paint job." and with that she was going inside. If she was quick enough she might have missed him screaming like a little girl and grabbing an exposed beamer from jumping, hanging over where the mouse just went by. ... He'd... Have to fix that. Elsewise... He'd check for the delivery of requested supplies and, if found, went to work on the house. ...far from where he saw the mouse. Yeah, real tough guy today.
Leila leaned against doorway, head tilting to the side as she watched the man exercise. He was indeed restless. She felt a little drowsy today, due to the strong pain killers (the headache was persistent) and another package of dreams and memories mixed together in nightmares, but on outside, she seemed as emotionless as always.
"Want me to tie the rope to my car and transport you that way?" she asked, in nearly friendly tone, as if it was the most common invite in whole wide world. The vision of such thing amused her and relieved a bit of pent up anger. No exercise sessions got that out of her.
Raphael
He had missed her during the first repetitions while she was there, belatedly noticing the striking white hair and remaining hanging to talk, arms descending to brace on the guard rail. "Yeah, then they'd have to start all over on me. That and it'd mess up my bandages." one final situp seemed infinitely harder after that few seconds of rest and he... Untied himself. And fell. His reflexes still failed to grab the rope on descent like he used to. He crashed a few times and slumped, letting out a string of profanities. He stood and wobbled. This experiment might work himself to death before anything. It would be easy to see a pounding pulse in several areas. "See?" he grimaced. "All ready for photo op." he tried to grin in spite. No shag! Just scruff. "What's up with you? It's almost like you have a sense of humor today or something."
Leila Ragnarok
Her eyebrows rose, at the little display of "fail", but otherwise she refrained from comments. However, she helped him up, grabbing by scruff.
"Good point, babysitters aren't given spare parts. So, all original still in tact and functioning?" She looked Rapehael up and down, without a woman's interest that would mostly be in such gazes, checking out the bandages. If she was right, then the burns were worse than it had seemed trough the vision.
"And my humor sense has always been here, just took you time to notice," Leila retorted dryly. It by no means softened her rather harsh comments however, because her humor sense was just as mean and twisted as her self. Even if it had been sarcasm from him, she didn't bother with replying in same way. The woman got into the car, the sliding door open invitingly for Raphael. However, the vehicle had strange scratches in the paint, all over.
The machine hummed softly, as they - in not so insane manner - went back to Corporation building. It was indeed tall, all white and glass, really standing out in the scenery, although there was bunch of other similar buildings nearby. Leila replied to few greetings on their way, and this time they took stairs.
Leila didn't enter in the room, where he was asked few basic questions by bored looking man, and had a quick photo taken. It took 3 more minutes for the ID to be handed over to Raphael, still warm.
"So, mister legal employee, where shall I take you? Home or you have some special requests from the babysitter?" she asked, when the man exited.
Raphael
"Ah, ah, ah!" he complained, suddenly finding strength to stand. He feigned a puppy dog pout, similar to how he convinced elsie to go to Pizza Shack. "Geez... You don't give a guy any breaks." but reprising his shirt, he stopped at the car, missing the scratches. Eyes, after all. The ID was squinted at. "Not for her, but you. Figured you could do something about these." he pointed at either eyes. "I forgot how bad my vision was getting at this age." hey, might as well milk them, right? "Something to be done about that? If I'm to help out, I probably shouldn't be going blind."
Leila Ragnarok
This man... He was certainly older than her, in mind, for at least 5 or 6 years, but acted like some teen. Leila shook her head lightly. How one could be so self destructive and tough, yet so childish at the same time? She couldn't comprehend it fully, but was glad for the silence trough the ride.
"Some sensible word from you," Leila commented. "Wait here and don't hope I will hold your hand trough the scary part." She left to give the message to someone and after 15 minutes, he was taken the room few floors above where the operations of this kind took place. It was even easier and simpler, no previous preparations, than the one he had went trough in his past life. The doctor and nurse was skillful and in another 20 minutes, it was done. His sight now was sharper than ever and would take a bit to get used to.
"So, where to now, Mr employee? Maybe volcano you would like to take a dip in?" the woman asked, sitting on small chair in the waiting room, sipping coffee in casual manner.
Raphael
He didn't expect it... right then. "Right... Now? Uh... Give me... a minute." he was trying to clock the wraith in, but it was a little hard when he was already shaken. Laser eye surgery actually terrified him. She might be able to see his eyes glancing about, like he was looking for an escape on the way. "Isn't there... Like... a sedative?" probably unlikely since his eyes had to be open and reactive. HOW had he gotten it before? It was forced. It would take more than a share of coaxing... and possibly a few restraints... To make him sit still. He came out sheet white, staring at Leila. "Not until I toughen my skin back up." ...now take a guess if he's serious or not.
Leila Ragnarok
"At least you can go on your merry ways and not worry about having any business here for a while," she shrugged. He had turned all baby again, apparently scared and shaken from the surgery. So tough about battles, scared from a little laser.
"Come on, you baby," she scoffed a little, dropping the cup in the can, where it was immediately recycled. Before they exited the building, Leila handed him huge sunglasses without a word.
She put on radio for about one song length, but the noisy, no lyric music was rather annoying, so Leila turned it off soon. They stopped by a big building. It seemed to be theater or cinema of sorts, and she bought one ticket for him. It was chip, with no visible information, except few numbers. Apparently, they were right in time for a show.
"Go on, enjoy your self," Leila smiled sweetly, gently 'pushing' him towards the entry in showroom. "I need to take care of some grown up business. I will be back by time it is finished."
If he went in, and found the truth of the show that way, or managed to squeeze information out of someone, it was a robot-doll show, a retelling of an old fairy tale of Goldilock and three bears. Although the group of children with their mothers and grandmothers gave the type of show away.
Raphael
"Oh, god this looks dorky." he griped about the glasses, and... Got a ticket? "A show?" he sounded confused. "Did you... Just buy me a ticket to a show?" he looked between it and her. "Hey, thanks." he smiled. No idea what he was seeing, but... that was as close to kindness as she'd shown, in her own little way. She coulda just locked him in a box. He gave sloppy salute for no real reason. "See you soon. Next one's on me." once he has... Money. And... Inside. Might as well make use of it. ...he's an odd one.
Leila Ragnarok
Inside, Leila was a little flabbergasted. He seemed to be perfectly fine with the kiddy show. "Geez," she murmured, getting in the car. She had expected some retort that would put her down a little, or downright refusal to see the show. But not big smile in sincere manner.
The deal was with a gunmaker, and after a short debate, she got the parts she needed, stacking the few boxes in the back of vehicle. Next was another weapon maker, who supplied her with parts for her crossbows and the like. When Raphael came, she was relaxing in the car, already visualizing her new, better weapon and making a list of things to upgrade on her car. First would be a new paint, for sure... She didn't like her only true "baby" looking shaggy like this.
Before the final stop at his home, Leila stopped by flying "drive-thru" which apparently offered not only burgers and mini-pizzas, but also ice cream. Somehow, her energy kept running low, low and lower today...
Although the woman pondered being evil and getting one only for her self, he also got a cup of his choice. If anything, ice cream was made to be shared! Hers was double black chocolate with cranberry sauce, with chocolate sprinkles on top. Vehicle went on half auto-pilot mode as she indulged in one of her true weaknesses.
"Here," she handed him a small card that flicked with information only when someone slid finger over it, and only for brief moment. Maybe it only recognized certain people touches. It contained nothing but phone number. "If you ever need to get in touch with me." Of course, calling her name out loud and telling to come would work as well, but she wouldn't tell him that. She was no genie from lamp to allow her self to be summoned like that.
Raphael:
He ... Probably looked somewhat downcast when stepping out, but wouldn't readily divulge why. How couldn't he think about his kids? Regardless... With new, sharp eyes he spotted the scratches, kneeling and putting a hand on the side of the car rather than getting in. "Yeowch... How long has that been there?" bad eyes make it easy to miss a lot. "Need me to take care of it? Unless you guys use, like, super hi tech paint too now or something." regardless of answer, he slid in and... Looked surprised at a drive thru. He figured people probably downloaded most food now or something. "Um..." he took a while. "Whatever you suggest." he had no idea what to pick out modernly. Reaching out he took the card, turning it over. "...movie, food and your number? did we just go on a date?" he tried to smile with signs of wear still showing through. Try not to kill him.
Leila Ragnarok:
"Pssh, dream on. I am just being a good babysitter. Don't they usually give treats after visit to the doctor?" Against her own will, her tone became a little downcast, in strong contrast with nearly playfully ticked off one from the beginning of the sentence. Few images, or more like feelings, flashed trough her mind. Warm embrace of mother, lavender scent enveloping her: "mommy, mommy, doctor said my teeth are perfect!"
But it was gone in a moment, and the stare was dull again, pointed out the window. "Okay, move your rear-end out now. Babysitting has come to an end for the day," she waved at the man in a little impatient manner. Damn unexpected memory flow. He was turning into bad influence.
She hadn't turned the offer to paint her car down, or accepted it. Leila didn't like anyone touching things that were hers. But she hadn't felt the need to inform Raphael of this fact. For ice cream, he got vanilla-blackberry and chocolate sprinkles. A little sweet, a little sour.
Leila drove off, turning Emilie Autumn as loud as possible without making her ears bleed. Well, except for some of the violin solos, that is.
Raphael:
"Right." he looked at her, disbelieving. "And what'd you go in for?" he scoffed. "Uh... Well, you know where to get me about that paint job." and with that she was going inside. If she was quick enough she might have missed him screaming like a little girl and grabbing an exposed beamer from jumping, hanging over where the mouse just went by. ... He'd... Have to fix that. Elsewise... He'd check for the delivery of requested supplies and, if found, went to work on the house. ...far from where he saw the mouse. Yeah, real tough guy today.
Leila Ragnarok
The vehicle with ordered parts and materials arrived next morning. There was all he needed, and more. The man also offered workers, for the task to be done faster. Leila went on her with her regular life, except sometimes making some can of pain or board fall over, pushed by her little spy, in middle of night or when he wasn't looking. He really wasn't that interesting, in his every day life.
However, their separate lives were again wound together when another task was piled on their - hers, if he disagreed shoulders. It was late evening when Leila stopped by his house. It was repaired, repainted and a little rebuilt from inside. She was no mechanic, but without her watchful eye on him, no one would mess with her vehicle.
Depending if he was in or out, she either rang the bell really loud or called out, "hey, big baby, up for some job?"
Raphael Emmerich
He... rejected the help. It wasn't like it was Emmerich repairs, which he built ground up. As it was he was just now getting dante online and investigating modern codecs and security before downloading too much data. She probably hadn't seen him outside, unless her spies were still there. The door was open. He peeked over the slanted roof, pulling a few nails from between his lips after using his mouth like a spare hand, "Nicknames, now." he rebutted her degrading remarks, grinning. "Sorry, I'm not quite your baby. Am I going to be a thief? Crime isn't my style." ...she might note there was no ladder.
Leila Ragnarok
"Thank goodness you aren't." Why, she didn't explain, although the expression could have said a thing or two she thought about him. Raphael seemed a lot like slightly spoiled brat, who thought good looks and smile would get him what he wanted. Unfortunately, Leila could bet that it also worked in most cases. Maybe, due to his childhood, he was using all the opportunities to act childish. In a corner of the woman's heart, sat envy that she couldn't do so. Childhood cut short, never a teen. Thrown into adult life from age of 8. And here, he was so damn powerful and childish at the same time, as if life was a game he could win with a grin.
"Doesn't change the fact you are like a child, tho'."
"What, really not the type to steal candy? Not even if it was a bully's?" she quirked eyebrow, putting hands on hips. "They were telling me, you would surely help me jam a computer or two, if it saved environment, stopped production of biological weapons and saved lives. But if you don't want that, oh well." Leila nonchalantly shrugged.
Raphael Emmerich
"...kids are some of the best things about the world." he hung his feet over the roof, cracking a water bottle next to him he had carried up somehow. "I'll take it as a compliment. I mean, have you ever heard, 'damn, that's an evil kid'? Messed up maybe... But never their own fault." he kicked his feet idly, considering. "What a bully earns, he earns. What he takes was stolen and just being returned. I didn't get that impression about our first job." no, just that zofie thought they would use it better. He held a swig of water in his mouth while considering. "Sounds worth my time... Though I don't think I've seen the sun once since I woke up. Not sure what good can be done." he shrugged, tucking the bottle into the slot of a toolbelt and... Spinning to drop to hang from the roof, then to land on the ground. He doubted anyone would steal the small toolbox up top. "I'll do it. But you had all better damn well believe in a god to protect you if I ever find out I'm being lied to about my targets or the reasons I'm provided, yeah?" he said it with odd smile, all things considered. "What about you? Seems like you could use a dose of childhood. Ever gone mini-golfing? ...does mini-golfing still exist?" he could always build a course. Yes, he is that ridiculous.
Leila Ragnarok
With that last question, he had crossed a line Raphael had not even known about. It wasn't evident, but mentally, she grew a shell triple as thick as that of tortoise's and retreated back in it. Games and jokes aside, they had work on hands now. Later she would return to his words, though. Year and half, she had heard nothing but that she was bad and evil and later, it was still the underlying message. Perfect, but so bad. For being just a child. It was strange, how he was so extremely childish and sometimes fatherly. There was TOO much to him. Too many sides to put together to form a functional person. And yet, didn't the childish ones make the best fathers? They were willing to live trough each child's childhood, with the eyes of child. Like her father had...
"Suit up. We are going in half hour. If they lie... well, wouldn't be past them." The fact it was so sudden wasn't surprising, since she already was 'suited up', in similarly clinging body suit that still annoyed her. Leila got in the car and didn't follow him down. Rather, she focused on those two rooms in her mind, one for body and the other for heart. He really asked too much questions, nagging at bricks of the latter room so much some cement holding them together fell down. At least it wasn't December. Then Raphael would really drive her crazy.
When the man returned, she passed him a pad with few plans and brief information. It was well guarded spot, and the information systems were in the heart of it. Not an easy task. Well, Leila could pass easily, with her special invisibility, but he... Oh, Wraith would figure something. She didn't have to worry about that.
Raphael Emmerich
"I take that as a 'no'." he shrugged. Oh, well. There was only so much he could do to make the partnership tolerable. "...eh, gimme like, ten seconds." okay, it was a few seconds longer. Figure of speech. He stepped inside and closed the door, tossing his gloves to the floor and exposing metal bands beneath. He gripped his fists a few times and and was covered in what seemed like a film of fire, weaving quicksilver threads over him rapidly. "YyyeeeOW!" he hadn't felt that on fresh skin... ever. It started like his own voice, turning into a familiar modulation by the tail and having a techno bridge. A lighter version of his familiar suit became evident; the arms were not quite as bulky, and the plating was less evident, wrapping closer to his body with less seams -- a more obvious difference now than in the past. The mask was marginally different, human nose extended to where the other's grin started and flaring out like nostrils, while the grin became a more feral jawline. The eyes flashed red and the Dragon stepped out. "Now there's a way to wake up." he rasped while throwing his door open. Still a dark metal, it tinted to black as he stepped out and dropped into her car with gusto. Yeah, that was under a minute. Have fun figuring that out. "Lead the way, cheuffer."
Leila Ragnarok
Leila looked at him blankly, obviously wondering when he had gotten a suit upgrade that she didn't know about. Seriously, how the heck had she missed that!? The spying had to be intensified, apparently... By the love of... whatever was up there, would there ever be time she knew enough about this man? Mental sigh.
"So, does this one come with non-farting bombs?" she asked, in seemingly nonchalant voice, turning eyes to the road. "If not, I got some supplies with me." There was a box behind the seats, which, if inspected, held a large variety of small bombs. Labels said - sleeping gas, smoke bombs, sleeping gas & smoke in one, neyroparalytic, freezing and something as obscure as "genetic power disabler". They were maybe one third size of what he was used to, and according to some numbers, twice as effective.
This time, the drive was not so crazy and fast, apparently there was no rush, and she used the time to clear some things up.
"We will go trough roof entrance. First 2 floors, we have to be extra careful, then I can jam security cameras. 5 floors lower, is the main objective."
"And you don't go crashing the whole building in case something goes wrong," the woman finished, dryly. She was still debating how much of her powers to put in use, if to go the easy way or put a little strain on her. Leila considered taking up the challenge and doing things the 'human' way. Although, Wraith was cheating about that anyways, wasn't he...
Raphael Emmerich
"No." he admitted. "Different set of utilities. I haven't had the set-up to remake my bombs." why give away his ingredient list for everything to be surmised? Still, he picked up a very... small bomb. What labeling system made it identifiable? "Aw, hun, you shouldn't have." he tried to sound sarcastic as hell, which just made an eerie, choppy rendered voice, brusque and befitting his demonic and draconic forms. "...Dante is online. Send me a grid of your known alarm grids. Map is also useful." a basic exchange of IP data should suffice. "It's just a temporary allocation, so don't fire anything at it later or someone else will intercept." stolen IPs? Regardless he could be far more on cue, just describe the grounds and he should be more up to snuff. "...not sure who's satellite we're on, Dante's doing what he can." systems were still getting functional. Crashing? "You don't set off alarms, I don't make diversions. Fair?"
Leila Ragnarok
"Apparently, sarcasm has not been installed on your brains OR the suit, so refrain from it. Otherwise, a bit more and it will sound like you're flirting with me," she retorted, eyes on the invisible road. The bombs were marked by small labels near the 'ring'. Two of each kind, carefully laid down in a box that would secure them from any shaking. Although they surely were stable and wouldn't go off... just like that.
Letting go of the steering wheel, she took the pad from front panel and started typing something. The information of IPs, maps, security grids, ground plan, everything she had about this went to Dante. Even guard patrol plans. Then, she returned to guiding the vehicle, right in time to avoid probably lethal crash. There was a sort of... confidence cover up, over the cracks he had made, that whatever happened, she would come out perfectly. Or just strong belief she would survive anyways.
Her suit, apparently had been upgraded as well, now bearing a helmet of sorts, with filtering system (it somehow unpacked it self over her head, when they were about to reach the destination). If she was giving him bombs, she wanted to make sure they wouldn't affect her and willing their effect out wasn't the best option, if she could simply avoid inhaling them. Leila hated it, though, helmets made her feel suffocated. Indeed, he was a royal pain in her butt, as partner, from whichever aspect they looked.
-Even if alarms go off, you don't go around acting like some wacko that you actually are. You don't need attention on you. More cases like the last one and you will be tracked down in no time and that won't end good for you.- Pause in the channel. Not that /she/ would set them off.
-If the task is done, we get out quickly, if not, you stay behind and cover my back, I jam systems, and then we get out. But I /don't/ need you crashing the ceiling down on me also.- She had no doubt he could pull that off - the ceiling crashing part - so, it was a serious command.
The vehicle softly landed and as they got out, changed color to blue, from black, some kind of cat face appearing on engine cover. Then it took off.
Few more meters, avoiding security camera, and part of fence was 'jammed' along with security camera. On the other side, Leila debated about flying to top, but decided to 'spider crawl' up, avoiding camera searching lenses.
Raphael Emmerich
< Or what? > He challenged, < Someone will come kill me? Again? > He didn't exactly feel like he had a lot to lose in any case.
< I only flirt with the pretty girls. > She could take that however she would, but he looked like he was damn near escaping the car before she had a chance to think about it or respond.
He blinked a few times inside his suit, drawing up the indicated schematics. He typically didn't have chemical warfare in this belt, as the nanos couldn't comprise the complicated compounds. She had covered that weakness. It could, however, mimic basic functionalities.
The magnetic grips came out, abusing the metallic nature of the local buildings but opting to take a different avenue than her, an angle opposite but still in shadow. He climbed upward effortlessly, what with a mix of natural strength, hydraulics (though this suit made it more... nano-ulics? a semiliquid form that channeled like thick water, largely within the broadened forearms) and magnetic pull. He had several cheats. Once clear of a few guarded windows, a gun-like creation was pulled from the side, which shot a low power projectile upwards. A different magnet clung to wall's edge and... reeled him up a few more floors. A button triggered reverse polarity and the grip rejected the wall once he was dependent on his hands, peering over the edge in advance.
There were probably guards somewhere near the top, yes? He flipped and took cover behind a vent. If she was behind any paces, he, without magnetic draw, shot the gun -downward-, which extended some sort of fiber wire in offering to draw her up with the retraction. That was only -if- she was behind, however. < Minimal contact or maximum stealth? > In other words: Did she want him to avoid sight and use of any weaponry, which could leave incriminating trace and let it be known someone was there, or did she want him to just knock out any potential offender and not mind them knowing SOMEONE was there as long as they didn't know who?
Leila Ragnarok
< Death would be smallest of the worries then, > but she didn't bother with explaining how. Seriously, this was not chit-chat and coffee pause, but work. Just how blabber-mouthed could this man be?!
< What, picking up old practice of flirting with babysitters from previous life or something? The one of your children must have slapped you pretty quickly, 'cause, you know, you go around it pretty plainly.> Most likely, a low blow, to say he flirted behind wife's back he seemed to have loved. But Hell, unknowingly he dealt them all the time to her. And Leila was not one to tiptoe tenderly around things.
She defiantly ignored the rope. The woman had started first, but Wraith had quickly surpassed, much to her quiet dismay. However, when he looked away, she used a little cheat of her own, blinking higher up. That miniature power display wouldn't do as much as make fly rub its wings, so it was safe.
For her, the less to dissolve into shadows and then put together properly, the better. Every such transform was a complex procedure done in matter of 1/1000 second. If she wasn't careful, or hadn't been so good at it naturally, she could come back, on regular basis, lacking an arm or leg, or some of her weapons, in the best outcome. But he seemed to carry an army of toy soldiers that would slit everyone's throats, machine gun and canon, and of course, modernized Indiana -whatever was his full name - equipment.
< And let's do it as quietly and unnoticeable as possible, unless things go awry.>
On the roof top, she looked around to make sure it was clear and safe. It was. The security jammer worked as door opened, if they were with electronic code such as these. Leila slid inside, grabbing the item and holding the door open - once it would shut, it would have to be reopened again. As soon as Wraith was in, with quiet steps, the woman descended the stairs, checking mentally every plan.
Raphael Emmerich
Well... she got her silence. In fact, she got absolute silence. The cracked open door was propped by a foot. He said nothing to her about why he waited briefly, pulling a small circle from his waste. Duct tape made too much noise, but electrical tape was effective. A few layers were stuck together quickly, then fastened over the lock's "female part", so to speak.
He actively moved a small corner map. He was fairly effective at monitoring the small window. ...Rafe was a gamer, you see. There was a day where Metal Gear Solid was out. If he was looking to knock guards out, his tricks probably would have replicated Snake. Instead, he had an indicator map with estimated radiuses of cameras warning him in the top screen, and line-marked paths of guards, albeit not upgraded as actively as a convenient gamer map. Still, he pointed around the corner that it was clear, indicating a nice place to tuck into the hall. He took to walls again, this time opting to hang from the ceiling while giving cues to direction. Still silent, however.
A bottleneck in the necessary path, and a wisely placed guard, made it awkward. A simple gesture hinted to stay back. He waited for a turn of convenience as the guard changed pace, and released the magnetics to drop, and flip. It might look like he was breaking a neck. No, just pulling the man in, hand against his mouth. She might notice an expelled spray between his fingers which he allowed, so as not to hemorage the man's nose, but allowed no option but to directly breath in the gas without a chance to spot his attacker. Another advantage of his other suit--that gas was built straight in, but he would rather not find out that was expired too. He could see about... transfering some of the gas to the hand-dispensers from the new bombs later.
Another gesture. She was clear.
Leila Ragnarok
Maybe if she had been a little different, or Raphael had not prodded too many bleeding spots in too short time, she would have felt a pang of guilt. But there is little point of wondering how it would be, had she be different. For Leila stepped on feelings of others without care. Not that she was often around someone who actual felt something, besides greed and hate.
When in the corridor, she moved quickly, although a little behind him. Unwillingly, if Leila would have to admit it. Even if his little tech advancements could be helpful. After the guard was out of the way, the path to next floor down was clear. And then a bit more, and things would be easier. Next guard, patrolling at the doors of staircases, Leila took down her self. A self retracting dart hit the vein on neck and before man could touch the spot, he was already unconscious.
Careful around the turns, she paused only at system central on the wall. < Take the one around corner out,> Leila said. She would need a minute to deal with this, and by then the guard could arrive. When that was done, except for guards, rest would be child's play.
Raphael Emmerich
In a way, his most convenient devices were the basic ones. Magnets, alternate grips. She still had to learn how much he was built to work around his hands.
Rafe crouched over the man she had knocked out to pull out the dart--and only found that it was gone. How curious. He would have to ask--eventually. He didn't particularly feel like saying anything to her.
Actually, he felt like informing her of one thing as he disposed of a second guard not too much unlike the first--instead of flipping from the ceiling he spun around the corner at first opportunity and repeated the gas act, tucking away the used chamber once the deed was done. < Just for the record, don't talk about my family. In fact, don't even think about my family. If you were anyone, anything, other than a woman I would have knocked your brick off. Next time, I won't see you as a woman. > ...That was uncharacteristically threatening, but it sure blew off steam. He might honestly be in trouble if magic came into play, he was far from centered, and one wrong move by anyone away from putting a fist through a wall, or a skull; his temper had been the very thing that made him start his meditation.
Leila Ragnarok
< If you don't treat me like sleazy chick or ask about my past, I won't. > Unexpectedly simple and lenient answer, and if Raphael ever thought about it, maybe he could put it together eventually his seemingly innocent questions could have caused certain pain as well. But if not, it didn't matter, as long as he kept to these rules.
< Oh, and threatening me goes in 'off limits' list, too, because you can pretend you could overpower me, but that's nowhere to the truth. I am here to work, not chit-chat, especially about things that mean nothing to you. >
Tucking the little device back in pouch, she moved after him - and then past, to the next level. No guard at doors this time and since security cameras weren't a problem anymore, she could pick up her usual pace. Surprisingly accurately knowing where was each guard positioned, she paused only when around corner, there were two. If Wraith took one, she dealt another poisoned dart to the other, but if both were left for her to handle (if she had rushed ahead), Leila fired from both crossbows on her wrists, so the guards gave each other confused look before falling. The darts retracted, again, and nimbly, Leila moved to the end of corridor, where doors of the target room were.
The woman stopped, suddenly extremely alert. < Something's off, > she spoke, one hand frozen on pouch. She knelt and inspected the floor, then without further comments climbed the wall, and moved above the console to open the doors, upside down. Taking in breath, she placed the device on panel and... Nothing happened. That shouldn't have, at least. The doors bleeped softly, and opened.
< Stay here, don't go closer than 6 feet 7 inches to the doors, unless you want to play Tarzan and fling over the sector, but I think all floor inside the room is connected to alarm now. >
Leila crawled sideways, looked in and thought for a second, but then got into action. With shadows, it would be easy. But, then again, maybe he could help her out with all his fancy gadgets (getting a suit for human-style missions wouldn't be so bad, too).
< How long is that rope? Enough to reach over the sector and to any wall within the room? If you think that yes, attach it there and then I can easily get in.>
Raphael Emmerich
< Don't tell me what I can and can't do. It just makes me that more willing to do it. Maybe you could, I don't know, try not pretending to be Queen Bitch now and then. > He replied.
The sudden increase in security drew a curiosity. He could be an ASS and just climb on the ceiling and leave her behind. He was half tempted to this time. Still, He fished out a bomb. Any bomb, really, as long as it made a good haze. A quick activation might seem odd but... If there were any laser-based alarms, the mist would make a cloud that refracted the light and made it visible. A macabre cat's cradle of red lights shimmered in warning. It wasn't just the floors that were trapped. The hall itself was one big alarm unit.
The gun was a perfectly valid idea. The magnetic strip fired off with some purposeful aim, shooting a line through the longest projected area of clearance. It left him standing there. < Climb on board. > apparently he was going to hold the fake weapon and let her... monkey up along him until she could cling to the wire and go across, between safe zones. < Before the fog clears. > The hall should keep it relatively contained, but only for so long. < Tell me when you're opening the door so slack doesn't set it off. >
Leila Ragnarok
< Bring it on, whenever you want outside missions. But if you don't act like biggest stud of States that will be friends with everyone "or else", I might let you actually become something worth spending my time on first. > Haughty? Sure, but he wasn't acting all modest either. The woman knew that his weakness would be magic, especially one that would rip him apart inside his mighty suit. She would be no match in size or physical strength, but if she didn't 'exist', he couldn't predict from where side she would come. It wouldn't be fight to death, nor she had illusions of it being simple one, but Leila would love to show the man his place, to show her self a worthy opponent.
She tilted head, taking note of situation and then quickly moved to starting position. However, ignoring the fact it would be much easier to start steadily if she got on the wire from him, she gripped it with hands and pulled up. There was no way she was touching him! Physical contacts in general were unpleasant to her, but especially in this tense situation with Wraith.
The wire bent, nearly dangerously close to setting alarm off, but not enough, because the weight was far enough. Few seconds were tense, but then all went still and the woman quickly moved onward, sometimes pressing closer to rope, to avoid some side beams.
< Opening on 1.> She said, close to the system panel. The rope was held tightly between her legs, and the hand outstretched as far as she could. Leila couldn't get any closer without getting into way of laser beams. And, she could bet, they would not only ring alarm, but also fry her. < 3.> Placed the item, barely with her fingertips. <2.> Bleep. <1.> Doors opened.
The room seemed to not have such security. It was empty, except for huge column-computer, in middle of it. If there was similar laser beam security, it would be tough one, but if the trick was repeated, could be pulled off.
Raphael Emmerich
-I'm sorry that friendliness is beyond you. Ugh, what are you doing?!- he stepped back and had to brace his arm tightly, doing his damndest not to let the line waver as she took her own way of doing it. -I'll take you up on a match once we're clear of this job.- her warning had him stepping back, first to keep the line taut and, once she could slide inside, retracting the reel. It was strong, meant to lift several hundred pounds and recoiled rapidly. Another firing and she had another line. -Try not to set anything off this time.-
Leila Ragnarok
She did not reply, concentrated on the task. It was lucky that the whole room was not laser beam filled, although Leila was sure she... them, could deal with it, too. When he didn't blabber so much, there was certain point to Wraith.
The woman carefully moved to the other line, sliding out of the laser zone. Now the path towards computer was easy, however a little before computer, she stiffened. There was certain buzz in the air, as if something was giving static electricity. 'Blast,' she thought and then concentrated. The mind and body went still and then she swung upside down, hanging onto the rope.
Leila began moving towards computer again and paused, when she was in front of system panel. A little too far to reach, and dangerous to do so, with that soft sound. She pulled up to the rope again, wrapping her legs around it so she could rely on them alone, Leila pulled out the small device and fumbled a moment longer, fetching her slingshot. Rarely used, it was still in her arsenal. She had learned to trust any weapon that shot and it was perfect for cases like these.
She was aware of time running out and quickly pushed buttons on device, then placed it in slingshot. Twisting her upper body and arms, she aimed at system panel. With soft thud, the item landed and, holding breath, Leila waited for the familiar beep. Thankfully, it came few moment later.
The column lit up, and then went black. In the channel, Wraith could hear a soft sigh, most likely that of relief. Backwards, she began crawling out.
<In 10 minutes, they will most likely notice hitch in data stream and come looking. 5, if we aren't lucky,> she told him, landing next to Wraith, and already began moving towards stairs.
Raphael Emmerich
Well, at least he showed utilitarianism. The excitement hadn't hit yet, but if done right, it wouldn't hit at all. The bigwigs seemed to like it temperate. The AC had to come from somewhere. Doubtful vents went completely obsolete, even if filtering changed. A sensible duct was probably... He pointed down a hall by guidance of the map. She might think him crazy. He started to tug at his waistline, pulling out what... Looked like a screwdriver head. A quick magnetic pull attached it to the fingertip, which... rotated. He loved, loved working around his hands and rotation was also convenient for drills and some picks, albeit slower. One, two, three--a few seconds and screws came out, opening the panel, which he gestured her into first as opposite hand swept and gathered the screws by magnet. -squat and hold it.- hopefully she didn't mind several waves of heat as a few high leg poses requiring odd balance in the tight quarter released minimal bursts from rockets meant for gliding, from the heel.
It weakly soldered the corners in place, giving the ruse of a closed grate. -either American Ninja it-, she probably missed the reference of the vertical climb with limbs pressing to all sides, -Or grab on me.- she would still need to head toward the vertical duct and cling. Ducts usually let heat up and circulate cold air, so if right there should be a ceiling vent. The damn gun pointed upward, and he... Dropped the screws. In fact, he flicked them. Their advance time was up as evidenced by alarms, and the bouncing bolts were meant to noisily descend and give deception of descent. Him? He was about to fire upwards from the tether, so grabbing his foot would be advised. It just left free hand punching through the top gate... as ceiling guards ran downward from call of the noise a few floors under where they even began. Hah. Just to pull himself up and deal with anyone who didnt fall for the ploy... and pull her out if she was holding on. Now to just get off the roof.
Leila Ragnarok
<That is... awfully cliche,> she informed him, or simply commented. If Leila worked in security, not as thief, vents and the like would be the first thing she would make sure had a lot of security. It seemed like most people favored them as escape routes, if sewers weren't available. They had their good points, but seriously... How would he even push his mass and broad upper body trough it?
Apparently, without much problem. When alarms went off, much to her distaste, Leila realized it was better to 'tag along', clinging to his feet. Her grip was strong, probably most would lose it with the speed Wraith moved upwards. His plan was rather flawless, though, and there was but one guard on the roof. If he didn't deal with the man quickly, Leila 'knocked him out' with another poison arrow.
Darting to the edge, she looked down, spun around so she was with her back to the empty space, and stepped back, falling down. She 'attached' somewhere middle the house, and then went for a jump, kicking off the wall. A roll, and the woman was back on her feet, dashing to the insecure fence part, keeping to shadow side. She got on top of it, about to leap on other side, right when searching lights swept the area.
< So, your choice of place, or mine? > she asked, as soon as they were both in vehicle, which now was dark red color, settled a bit off from original spot. It shot out of the back alley, mixing into the stream of cars of those who enjoyed the night life. They had 'made a deal' and she wasn't going to pass it up.
The vehicle with ordered parts and materials arrived next morning. There was all he needed, and more. The man also offered workers, for the task to be done faster. Leila went on her with her regular life, except sometimes making some can of pain or board fall over, pushed by her little spy, in middle of night or when he wasn't looking. He really wasn't that interesting, in his every day life.
However, their separate lives were again wound together when another task was piled on their - hers, if he disagreed shoulders. It was late evening when Leila stopped by his house. It was repaired, repainted and a little rebuilt from inside. She was no mechanic, but without her watchful eye on him, no one would mess with her vehicle.
Depending if he was in or out, she either rang the bell really loud or called out, "hey, big baby, up for some job?"
Raphael Emmerich
He... rejected the help. It wasn't like it was Emmerich repairs, which he built ground up. As it was he was just now getting dante online and investigating modern codecs and security before downloading too much data. She probably hadn't seen him outside, unless her spies were still there. The door was open. He peeked over the slanted roof, pulling a few nails from between his lips after using his mouth like a spare hand, "Nicknames, now." he rebutted her degrading remarks, grinning. "Sorry, I'm not quite your baby. Am I going to be a thief? Crime isn't my style." ...she might note there was no ladder.
Leila Ragnarok
"Thank goodness you aren't." Why, she didn't explain, although the expression could have said a thing or two she thought about him. Raphael seemed a lot like slightly spoiled brat, who thought good looks and smile would get him what he wanted. Unfortunately, Leila could bet that it also worked in most cases. Maybe, due to his childhood, he was using all the opportunities to act childish. In a corner of the woman's heart, sat envy that she couldn't do so. Childhood cut short, never a teen. Thrown into adult life from age of 8. And here, he was so damn powerful and childish at the same time, as if life was a game he could win with a grin.
"Doesn't change the fact you are like a child, tho'."
"What, really not the type to steal candy? Not even if it was a bully's?" she quirked eyebrow, putting hands on hips. "They were telling me, you would surely help me jam a computer or two, if it saved environment, stopped production of biological weapons and saved lives. But if you don't want that, oh well." Leila nonchalantly shrugged.
Raphael Emmerich
"...kids are some of the best things about the world." he hung his feet over the roof, cracking a water bottle next to him he had carried up somehow. "I'll take it as a compliment. I mean, have you ever heard, 'damn, that's an evil kid'? Messed up maybe... But never their own fault." he kicked his feet idly, considering. "What a bully earns, he earns. What he takes was stolen and just being returned. I didn't get that impression about our first job." no, just that zofie thought they would use it better. He held a swig of water in his mouth while considering. "Sounds worth my time... Though I don't think I've seen the sun once since I woke up. Not sure what good can be done." he shrugged, tucking the bottle into the slot of a toolbelt and... Spinning to drop to hang from the roof, then to land on the ground. He doubted anyone would steal the small toolbox up top. "I'll do it. But you had all better damn well believe in a god to protect you if I ever find out I'm being lied to about my targets or the reasons I'm provided, yeah?" he said it with odd smile, all things considered. "What about you? Seems like you could use a dose of childhood. Ever gone mini-golfing? ...does mini-golfing still exist?" he could always build a course. Yes, he is that ridiculous.
Leila Ragnarok
With that last question, he had crossed a line Raphael had not even known about. It wasn't evident, but mentally, she grew a shell triple as thick as that of tortoise's and retreated back in it. Games and jokes aside, they had work on hands now. Later she would return to his words, though. Year and half, she had heard nothing but that she was bad and evil and later, it was still the underlying message. Perfect, but so bad. For being just a child. It was strange, how he was so extremely childish and sometimes fatherly. There was TOO much to him. Too many sides to put together to form a functional person. And yet, didn't the childish ones make the best fathers? They were willing to live trough each child's childhood, with the eyes of child. Like her father had...
"Suit up. We are going in half hour. If they lie... well, wouldn't be past them." The fact it was so sudden wasn't surprising, since she already was 'suited up', in similarly clinging body suit that still annoyed her. Leila got in the car and didn't follow him down. Rather, she focused on those two rooms in her mind, one for body and the other for heart. He really asked too much questions, nagging at bricks of the latter room so much some cement holding them together fell down. At least it wasn't December. Then Raphael would really drive her crazy.
When the man returned, she passed him a pad with few plans and brief information. It was well guarded spot, and the information systems were in the heart of it. Not an easy task. Well, Leila could pass easily, with her special invisibility, but he... Oh, Wraith would figure something. She didn't have to worry about that.
Raphael Emmerich
"I take that as a 'no'." he shrugged. Oh, well. There was only so much he could do to make the partnership tolerable. "...eh, gimme like, ten seconds." okay, it was a few seconds longer. Figure of speech. He stepped inside and closed the door, tossing his gloves to the floor and exposing metal bands beneath. He gripped his fists a few times and and was covered in what seemed like a film of fire, weaving quicksilver threads over him rapidly. "YyyeeeOW!" he hadn't felt that on fresh skin... ever. It started like his own voice, turning into a familiar modulation by the tail and having a techno bridge. A lighter version of his familiar suit became evident; the arms were not quite as bulky, and the plating was less evident, wrapping closer to his body with less seams -- a more obvious difference now than in the past. The mask was marginally different, human nose extended to where the other's grin started and flaring out like nostrils, while the grin became a more feral jawline. The eyes flashed red and the Dragon stepped out. "Now there's a way to wake up." he rasped while throwing his door open. Still a dark metal, it tinted to black as he stepped out and dropped into her car with gusto. Yeah, that was under a minute. Have fun figuring that out. "Lead the way, cheuffer."
Leila Ragnarok
Leila looked at him blankly, obviously wondering when he had gotten a suit upgrade that she didn't know about. Seriously, how the heck had she missed that!? The spying had to be intensified, apparently... By the love of... whatever was up there, would there ever be time she knew enough about this man? Mental sigh.
"So, does this one come with non-farting bombs?" she asked, in seemingly nonchalant voice, turning eyes to the road. "If not, I got some supplies with me." There was a box behind the seats, which, if inspected, held a large variety of small bombs. Labels said - sleeping gas, smoke bombs, sleeping gas & smoke in one, neyroparalytic, freezing and something as obscure as "genetic power disabler". They were maybe one third size of what he was used to, and according to some numbers, twice as effective.
This time, the drive was not so crazy and fast, apparently there was no rush, and she used the time to clear some things up.
"We will go trough roof entrance. First 2 floors, we have to be extra careful, then I can jam security cameras. 5 floors lower, is the main objective."
"And you don't go crashing the whole building in case something goes wrong," the woman finished, dryly. She was still debating how much of her powers to put in use, if to go the easy way or put a little strain on her. Leila considered taking up the challenge and doing things the 'human' way. Although, Wraith was cheating about that anyways, wasn't he...
Raphael Emmerich
"No." he admitted. "Different set of utilities. I haven't had the set-up to remake my bombs." why give away his ingredient list for everything to be surmised? Still, he picked up a very... small bomb. What labeling system made it identifiable? "Aw, hun, you shouldn't have." he tried to sound sarcastic as hell, which just made an eerie, choppy rendered voice, brusque and befitting his demonic and draconic forms. "...Dante is online. Send me a grid of your known alarm grids. Map is also useful." a basic exchange of IP data should suffice. "It's just a temporary allocation, so don't fire anything at it later or someone else will intercept." stolen IPs? Regardless he could be far more on cue, just describe the grounds and he should be more up to snuff. "...not sure who's satellite we're on, Dante's doing what he can." systems were still getting functional. Crashing? "You don't set off alarms, I don't make diversions. Fair?"
Leila Ragnarok
"Apparently, sarcasm has not been installed on your brains OR the suit, so refrain from it. Otherwise, a bit more and it will sound like you're flirting with me," she retorted, eyes on the invisible road. The bombs were marked by small labels near the 'ring'. Two of each kind, carefully laid down in a box that would secure them from any shaking. Although they surely were stable and wouldn't go off... just like that.
Letting go of the steering wheel, she took the pad from front panel and started typing something. The information of IPs, maps, security grids, ground plan, everything she had about this went to Dante. Even guard patrol plans. Then, she returned to guiding the vehicle, right in time to avoid probably lethal crash. There was a sort of... confidence cover up, over the cracks he had made, that whatever happened, she would come out perfectly. Or just strong belief she would survive anyways.
Her suit, apparently had been upgraded as well, now bearing a helmet of sorts, with filtering system (it somehow unpacked it self over her head, when they were about to reach the destination). If she was giving him bombs, she wanted to make sure they wouldn't affect her and willing their effect out wasn't the best option, if she could simply avoid inhaling them. Leila hated it, though, helmets made her feel suffocated. Indeed, he was a royal pain in her butt, as partner, from whichever aspect they looked.
-Even if alarms go off, you don't go around acting like some wacko that you actually are. You don't need attention on you. More cases like the last one and you will be tracked down in no time and that won't end good for you.- Pause in the channel. Not that /she/ would set them off.
-If the task is done, we get out quickly, if not, you stay behind and cover my back, I jam systems, and then we get out. But I /don't/ need you crashing the ceiling down on me also.- She had no doubt he could pull that off - the ceiling crashing part - so, it was a serious command.
The vehicle softly landed and as they got out, changed color to blue, from black, some kind of cat face appearing on engine cover. Then it took off.
Few more meters, avoiding security camera, and part of fence was 'jammed' along with security camera. On the other side, Leila debated about flying to top, but decided to 'spider crawl' up, avoiding camera searching lenses.
Raphael Emmerich
< Or what? > He challenged, < Someone will come kill me? Again? > He didn't exactly feel like he had a lot to lose in any case.
< I only flirt with the pretty girls. > She could take that however she would, but he looked like he was damn near escaping the car before she had a chance to think about it or respond.
He blinked a few times inside his suit, drawing up the indicated schematics. He typically didn't have chemical warfare in this belt, as the nanos couldn't comprise the complicated compounds. She had covered that weakness. It could, however, mimic basic functionalities.
The magnetic grips came out, abusing the metallic nature of the local buildings but opting to take a different avenue than her, an angle opposite but still in shadow. He climbed upward effortlessly, what with a mix of natural strength, hydraulics (though this suit made it more... nano-ulics? a semiliquid form that channeled like thick water, largely within the broadened forearms) and magnetic pull. He had several cheats. Once clear of a few guarded windows, a gun-like creation was pulled from the side, which shot a low power projectile upwards. A different magnet clung to wall's edge and... reeled him up a few more floors. A button triggered reverse polarity and the grip rejected the wall once he was dependent on his hands, peering over the edge in advance.
There were probably guards somewhere near the top, yes? He flipped and took cover behind a vent. If she was behind any paces, he, without magnetic draw, shot the gun -downward-, which extended some sort of fiber wire in offering to draw her up with the retraction. That was only -if- she was behind, however. < Minimal contact or maximum stealth? > In other words: Did she want him to avoid sight and use of any weaponry, which could leave incriminating trace and let it be known someone was there, or did she want him to just knock out any potential offender and not mind them knowing SOMEONE was there as long as they didn't know who?
Leila Ragnarok
< Death would be smallest of the worries then, > but she didn't bother with explaining how. Seriously, this was not chit-chat and coffee pause, but work. Just how blabber-mouthed could this man be?!
< What, picking up old practice of flirting with babysitters from previous life or something? The one of your children must have slapped you pretty quickly, 'cause, you know, you go around it pretty plainly.> Most likely, a low blow, to say he flirted behind wife's back he seemed to have loved. But Hell, unknowingly he dealt them all the time to her. And Leila was not one to tiptoe tenderly around things.
She defiantly ignored the rope. The woman had started first, but Wraith had quickly surpassed, much to her quiet dismay. However, when he looked away, she used a little cheat of her own, blinking higher up. That miniature power display wouldn't do as much as make fly rub its wings, so it was safe.
For her, the less to dissolve into shadows and then put together properly, the better. Every such transform was a complex procedure done in matter of 1/1000 second. If she wasn't careful, or hadn't been so good at it naturally, she could come back, on regular basis, lacking an arm or leg, or some of her weapons, in the best outcome. But he seemed to carry an army of toy soldiers that would slit everyone's throats, machine gun and canon, and of course, modernized Indiana -whatever was his full name - equipment.
< And let's do it as quietly and unnoticeable as possible, unless things go awry.>
On the roof top, she looked around to make sure it was clear and safe. It was. The security jammer worked as door opened, if they were with electronic code such as these. Leila slid inside, grabbing the item and holding the door open - once it would shut, it would have to be reopened again. As soon as Wraith was in, with quiet steps, the woman descended the stairs, checking mentally every plan.
Raphael Emmerich
Well... she got her silence. In fact, she got absolute silence. The cracked open door was propped by a foot. He said nothing to her about why he waited briefly, pulling a small circle from his waste. Duct tape made too much noise, but electrical tape was effective. A few layers were stuck together quickly, then fastened over the lock's "female part", so to speak.
He actively moved a small corner map. He was fairly effective at monitoring the small window. ...Rafe was a gamer, you see. There was a day where Metal Gear Solid was out. If he was looking to knock guards out, his tricks probably would have replicated Snake. Instead, he had an indicator map with estimated radiuses of cameras warning him in the top screen, and line-marked paths of guards, albeit not upgraded as actively as a convenient gamer map. Still, he pointed around the corner that it was clear, indicating a nice place to tuck into the hall. He took to walls again, this time opting to hang from the ceiling while giving cues to direction. Still silent, however.
A bottleneck in the necessary path, and a wisely placed guard, made it awkward. A simple gesture hinted to stay back. He waited for a turn of convenience as the guard changed pace, and released the magnetics to drop, and flip. It might look like he was breaking a neck. No, just pulling the man in, hand against his mouth. She might notice an expelled spray between his fingers which he allowed, so as not to hemorage the man's nose, but allowed no option but to directly breath in the gas without a chance to spot his attacker. Another advantage of his other suit--that gas was built straight in, but he would rather not find out that was expired too. He could see about... transfering some of the gas to the hand-dispensers from the new bombs later.
Another gesture. She was clear.
Leila Ragnarok
Maybe if she had been a little different, or Raphael had not prodded too many bleeding spots in too short time, she would have felt a pang of guilt. But there is little point of wondering how it would be, had she be different. For Leila stepped on feelings of others without care. Not that she was often around someone who actual felt something, besides greed and hate.
When in the corridor, she moved quickly, although a little behind him. Unwillingly, if Leila would have to admit it. Even if his little tech advancements could be helpful. After the guard was out of the way, the path to next floor down was clear. And then a bit more, and things would be easier. Next guard, patrolling at the doors of staircases, Leila took down her self. A self retracting dart hit the vein on neck and before man could touch the spot, he was already unconscious.
Careful around the turns, she paused only at system central on the wall. < Take the one around corner out,> Leila said. She would need a minute to deal with this, and by then the guard could arrive. When that was done, except for guards, rest would be child's play.
Raphael Emmerich
In a way, his most convenient devices were the basic ones. Magnets, alternate grips. She still had to learn how much he was built to work around his hands.
Rafe crouched over the man she had knocked out to pull out the dart--and only found that it was gone. How curious. He would have to ask--eventually. He didn't particularly feel like saying anything to her.
Actually, he felt like informing her of one thing as he disposed of a second guard not too much unlike the first--instead of flipping from the ceiling he spun around the corner at first opportunity and repeated the gas act, tucking away the used chamber once the deed was done. < Just for the record, don't talk about my family. In fact, don't even think about my family. If you were anyone, anything, other than a woman I would have knocked your brick off. Next time, I won't see you as a woman. > ...That was uncharacteristically threatening, but it sure blew off steam. He might honestly be in trouble if magic came into play, he was far from centered, and one wrong move by anyone away from putting a fist through a wall, or a skull; his temper had been the very thing that made him start his meditation.
Leila Ragnarok
< If you don't treat me like sleazy chick or ask about my past, I won't. > Unexpectedly simple and lenient answer, and if Raphael ever thought about it, maybe he could put it together eventually his seemingly innocent questions could have caused certain pain as well. But if not, it didn't matter, as long as he kept to these rules.
< Oh, and threatening me goes in 'off limits' list, too, because you can pretend you could overpower me, but that's nowhere to the truth. I am here to work, not chit-chat, especially about things that mean nothing to you. >
Tucking the little device back in pouch, she moved after him - and then past, to the next level. No guard at doors this time and since security cameras weren't a problem anymore, she could pick up her usual pace. Surprisingly accurately knowing where was each guard positioned, she paused only when around corner, there were two. If Wraith took one, she dealt another poisoned dart to the other, but if both were left for her to handle (if she had rushed ahead), Leila fired from both crossbows on her wrists, so the guards gave each other confused look before falling. The darts retracted, again, and nimbly, Leila moved to the end of corridor, where doors of the target room were.
The woman stopped, suddenly extremely alert. < Something's off, > she spoke, one hand frozen on pouch. She knelt and inspected the floor, then without further comments climbed the wall, and moved above the console to open the doors, upside down. Taking in breath, she placed the device on panel and... Nothing happened. That shouldn't have, at least. The doors bleeped softly, and opened.
< Stay here, don't go closer than 6 feet 7 inches to the doors, unless you want to play Tarzan and fling over the sector, but I think all floor inside the room is connected to alarm now. >
Leila crawled sideways, looked in and thought for a second, but then got into action. With shadows, it would be easy. But, then again, maybe he could help her out with all his fancy gadgets (getting a suit for human-style missions wouldn't be so bad, too).
< How long is that rope? Enough to reach over the sector and to any wall within the room? If you think that yes, attach it there and then I can easily get in.>
Raphael Emmerich
< Don't tell me what I can and can't do. It just makes me that more willing to do it. Maybe you could, I don't know, try not pretending to be Queen Bitch now and then. > He replied.
The sudden increase in security drew a curiosity. He could be an ASS and just climb on the ceiling and leave her behind. He was half tempted to this time. Still, He fished out a bomb. Any bomb, really, as long as it made a good haze. A quick activation might seem odd but... If there were any laser-based alarms, the mist would make a cloud that refracted the light and made it visible. A macabre cat's cradle of red lights shimmered in warning. It wasn't just the floors that were trapped. The hall itself was one big alarm unit.
The gun was a perfectly valid idea. The magnetic strip fired off with some purposeful aim, shooting a line through the longest projected area of clearance. It left him standing there. < Climb on board. > apparently he was going to hold the fake weapon and let her... monkey up along him until she could cling to the wire and go across, between safe zones. < Before the fog clears. > The hall should keep it relatively contained, but only for so long. < Tell me when you're opening the door so slack doesn't set it off. >
Leila Ragnarok
< Bring it on, whenever you want outside missions. But if you don't act like biggest stud of States that will be friends with everyone "or else", I might let you actually become something worth spending my time on first. > Haughty? Sure, but he wasn't acting all modest either. The woman knew that his weakness would be magic, especially one that would rip him apart inside his mighty suit. She would be no match in size or physical strength, but if she didn't 'exist', he couldn't predict from where side she would come. It wouldn't be fight to death, nor she had illusions of it being simple one, but Leila would love to show the man his place, to show her self a worthy opponent.
She tilted head, taking note of situation and then quickly moved to starting position. However, ignoring the fact it would be much easier to start steadily if she got on the wire from him, she gripped it with hands and pulled up. There was no way she was touching him! Physical contacts in general were unpleasant to her, but especially in this tense situation with Wraith.
The wire bent, nearly dangerously close to setting alarm off, but not enough, because the weight was far enough. Few seconds were tense, but then all went still and the woman quickly moved onward, sometimes pressing closer to rope, to avoid some side beams.
< Opening on 1.> She said, close to the system panel. The rope was held tightly between her legs, and the hand outstretched as far as she could. Leila couldn't get any closer without getting into way of laser beams. And, she could bet, they would not only ring alarm, but also fry her. < 3.> Placed the item, barely with her fingertips. <2.> Bleep. <1.> Doors opened.
The room seemed to not have such security. It was empty, except for huge column-computer, in middle of it. If there was similar laser beam security, it would be tough one, but if the trick was repeated, could be pulled off.
Raphael Emmerich
-I'm sorry that friendliness is beyond you. Ugh, what are you doing?!- he stepped back and had to brace his arm tightly, doing his damndest not to let the line waver as she took her own way of doing it. -I'll take you up on a match once we're clear of this job.- her warning had him stepping back, first to keep the line taut and, once she could slide inside, retracting the reel. It was strong, meant to lift several hundred pounds and recoiled rapidly. Another firing and she had another line. -Try not to set anything off this time.-
Leila Ragnarok
She did not reply, concentrated on the task. It was lucky that the whole room was not laser beam filled, although Leila was sure she... them, could deal with it, too. When he didn't blabber so much, there was certain point to Wraith.
The woman carefully moved to the other line, sliding out of the laser zone. Now the path towards computer was easy, however a little before computer, she stiffened. There was certain buzz in the air, as if something was giving static electricity. 'Blast,' she thought and then concentrated. The mind and body went still and then she swung upside down, hanging onto the rope.
Leila began moving towards computer again and paused, when she was in front of system panel. A little too far to reach, and dangerous to do so, with that soft sound. She pulled up to the rope again, wrapping her legs around it so she could rely on them alone, Leila pulled out the small device and fumbled a moment longer, fetching her slingshot. Rarely used, it was still in her arsenal. She had learned to trust any weapon that shot and it was perfect for cases like these.
She was aware of time running out and quickly pushed buttons on device, then placed it in slingshot. Twisting her upper body and arms, she aimed at system panel. With soft thud, the item landed and, holding breath, Leila waited for the familiar beep. Thankfully, it came few moment later.
The column lit up, and then went black. In the channel, Wraith could hear a soft sigh, most likely that of relief. Backwards, she began crawling out.
<In 10 minutes, they will most likely notice hitch in data stream and come looking. 5, if we aren't lucky,> she told him, landing next to Wraith, and already began moving towards stairs.
Raphael Emmerich
Well, at least he showed utilitarianism. The excitement hadn't hit yet, but if done right, it wouldn't hit at all. The bigwigs seemed to like it temperate. The AC had to come from somewhere. Doubtful vents went completely obsolete, even if filtering changed. A sensible duct was probably... He pointed down a hall by guidance of the map. She might think him crazy. He started to tug at his waistline, pulling out what... Looked like a screwdriver head. A quick magnetic pull attached it to the fingertip, which... rotated. He loved, loved working around his hands and rotation was also convenient for drills and some picks, albeit slower. One, two, three--a few seconds and screws came out, opening the panel, which he gestured her into first as opposite hand swept and gathered the screws by magnet. -squat and hold it.- hopefully she didn't mind several waves of heat as a few high leg poses requiring odd balance in the tight quarter released minimal bursts from rockets meant for gliding, from the heel.
It weakly soldered the corners in place, giving the ruse of a closed grate. -either American Ninja it-, she probably missed the reference of the vertical climb with limbs pressing to all sides, -Or grab on me.- she would still need to head toward the vertical duct and cling. Ducts usually let heat up and circulate cold air, so if right there should be a ceiling vent. The damn gun pointed upward, and he... Dropped the screws. In fact, he flicked them. Their advance time was up as evidenced by alarms, and the bouncing bolts were meant to noisily descend and give deception of descent. Him? He was about to fire upwards from the tether, so grabbing his foot would be advised. It just left free hand punching through the top gate... as ceiling guards ran downward from call of the noise a few floors under where they even began. Hah. Just to pull himself up and deal with anyone who didnt fall for the ploy... and pull her out if she was holding on. Now to just get off the roof.
Leila Ragnarok
<That is... awfully cliche,> she informed him, or simply commented. If Leila worked in security, not as thief, vents and the like would be the first thing she would make sure had a lot of security. It seemed like most people favored them as escape routes, if sewers weren't available. They had their good points, but seriously... How would he even push his mass and broad upper body trough it?
Apparently, without much problem. When alarms went off, much to her distaste, Leila realized it was better to 'tag along', clinging to his feet. Her grip was strong, probably most would lose it with the speed Wraith moved upwards. His plan was rather flawless, though, and there was but one guard on the roof. If he didn't deal with the man quickly, Leila 'knocked him out' with another poison arrow.
Darting to the edge, she looked down, spun around so she was with her back to the empty space, and stepped back, falling down. She 'attached' somewhere middle the house, and then went for a jump, kicking off the wall. A roll, and the woman was back on her feet, dashing to the insecure fence part, keeping to shadow side. She got on top of it, about to leap on other side, right when searching lights swept the area.
< So, your choice of place, or mine? > she asked, as soon as they were both in vehicle, which now was dark red color, settled a bit off from original spot. It shot out of the back alley, mixing into the stream of cars of those who enjoyed the night life. They had 'made a deal' and she wasn't going to pass it up.
Raphael Emmerich
He was in the lighter, more maneuverable suit, which made his snaking a bit more reasonable. That, and she'd find out how tantric yoga was good for more than sex. Awkward, but manageable. It almost seemed double-jointed. the old suit couldn't have managed. -That's why it works, with the right distraction.- everyone expects ducts, so you give them just what they want. Usually going down is far easier than up, and the screws gave a perfect red herring to chase. The resealed vent deflected attention. As she took all complicated and impressive methods of escape, he waited for the passing of the light. Reinstigating the wings she saw in her first mission with him, he took a glide down rounding the curve away from the searchlight so as to be lower when it passed by again. Didn't mean he didn't have others to worry about, but at least he cleared the fence and... Skidded on his feet. he was used to the drag and weight of the primary suit. -Your way.- no reason to split up this time, and she knew the new locale.
Give me a few months to learn modern wiring habits, and next time... a blackout could be effective.- his work in construction, electric, plumbing told him basic logic in structure, but electric had probably greatly varied in his absence. -...just bring me somewhere I can at least have pants. I'm a newborn under here.-
Leila Ragnarok
The goal of her moves were not being impressive nor if asked, she would find them complicated. She simply utilized the little suit-wise she had, avoiding using her powers or getting help from him. Although Leila knew she would have to use them during the fight, until then she wanted to keep them unknown. Surprise effect sometimes did wonders.
Leila quirked an eyebrow, taking note that he apparently wasn't planning to use the suit in battle. More advantage for her, definitely. Mind set or not, there was only so much he could do against something hardly visible and mostly untouchable. -Your home then, there is probably some abandoned basketball court or something like that near.-
The flight went in silence, unless he spoke up, and when Raphael went in, Leila fumbled along her suit, to make it more comfortable, as well as turn off unneeded features off. The radio and helmet were taken off - less to work on when 'flickering'. Both crossbows were kept, just in case, and the knife hidden on leg, too.
If by then, he had not returned, she checked for good place for their match on map. And probably sent a little spy after him, to see where he was staying for so long. Apparently, there was an abandoned warehouse nearby, which could work well. For her, the darker, the better. Not like they wanted spectators, too.
Raphael Emmerich
"I live on the beach." he reminded. "The property line includes the nearby sand unless that changed in time. So, when I knock your ass in the dirt, it won't hurt so bad." she could probably sense his cockeyed grin. But back to the lair! a drop of the elevator shaft, he retracted the suit, which revealed that most of even his gauze was gone, skin sunburnt. Casual jeans and a plain wifebeater. He caught is reflection in the glass. "...sad." by most standards he was athletic, but... Well, he was far behind what he was used to. He didn't take too long, really, and emerged with a red scorched tone to his flesh, like a long day in the sun. "Alllright." he cracked his knuckles, sporting his loose, leathery fingerless gloves again. "You ready?" if she had agreed to the beach it was several acres before the drop, which was a small knoll descending to the thick band of sands before the ocean.
Leila Ragnarok
"Well, sorry, I am not your property agent that I know what all you own," she commented dryly.
"Besides, you probably don't know if your land doesn't have "renters" by now." Leila didn't recall he had went on inspection of the area, although she might have missed it. Many of the no-ranks lived where ever there was spot of land, outside the eyes of government, in make-shift huts and tents.
But although the beach was not most strategically best position for her, the woman wasn't going to debate for ages about the location. It could as well turn into fight right here, then. Leila followed his directions in silence, seemingly a little lost in thoughts. The bracelet blinked red few times, but she seemed to not pay any attention to it.
"So, no man made weapons? I promise I will try to not deal any lethal damage to you," she said, in bland tone, apparently serious. To her luck, it was getting close to the second half of September and moon was just starting to grow again. The sky had little light to offer to the beach. The sand did not make a good footing, but it would be Raphael who would have to worry about that more. Leila circled her neck and stretched arms, taking in few deep breaths. Heart rate calmed down and she felt calm, confident.
Raphael Emmerich
"Whatever you feel like using." caution was thrown to the wind. He still had little attachment to the goings on of this life. "You already know I won't kill you, and I'm not a fan of beating up girls, even if you only barely fit the parameters." he spoke while going through a set of basic stretches, and a few essential tai chi foot movements to trace the movement of the sand. "So I'll stop once a point is made. Take it as far as you like, hun." beat him, bruise him, knock him unconscious or worse. He honestly couldn't care less. Looking at the stripped bandages from the shoulder regions under the tank-style top, it might be hard to do much worse to him than he'd already done himself. Poor illumination or not there were risen welts that bubbled most grossly as they tried to heal. He decided on an essential pillar strategy, or as much as the sand would allow. Shoeless and never bothering to even put on socks, his scorched right heel dug deep into the sand. Even the tops of his feet were visibly half-melted, so one might wonder about the soles--which were essential leather now, raw scar tissue. He took vague stance, one arm close to body and another extended, palm up, with a fingertwitch to beckon her in. She could even decide first move, if she wanted to.
Leila Ragnarok
"It's not 'woe is me, save me brave hero' attitude that makes girl a girl." Leila stretched and if he would have watched her carefully, Raphael would have noticed that the movements seemed to create ripples in the darkness, as would a rock thrown in water, only fainter. "Accepting foolish commentary doesn't do it either."
She took note of he took a stable position at first, maybe planning to keep to it as long as possible, and wear her out, then switch to offensive position. But it was not easy to tire her. Leila smirked softly. He was half broken, a weak reflection of Wraith in his glory days. Not that it would make him an easy opponent. As shallow and conceited as Leila could seem, she always tried to not underestimate her enemy. It was the biggest mistake one could make.
Leila launched an attack, but more to test his reaction, than with actual purpose to bring much harm. Leap, kick, dodge, punch, dodge, retreat, if all dodges were successful and Raphael had not grabbed her or something like that. She then retreated to shadows.
Raphael Emmerich
The leap-kick meant there was more air than foundation, probably. He swiveled, leaving his leg rooted and arms up in case it became a wide sweep-kick, to brace with his leg at a more edge of potential impact. Her dodge went unanswered, but the approaching punch earned the forward arm being swept up vertically. It was meant to knock away the arm by catching it at the outside of his forearm in quick 90 degree angle, which placed it further off to the side. The arm that had been held back, closer to the chest, jutted forward as her arm naturally extended, looking to jab two straight fingers as deep into the arm pit as his follow through would allow. Of course, the nature of her suit was still a mystery, so it may be far less effective than intended. Live and learn. If it hit, however, a nerve cluster was about to light on fire, sending a frenzied neural relay down the arm, across the shoulder and into the spine, attempting to briefly paralyze the arm. How used to recovering from pain, and nervous crippling, someone was, was a good part of recovery, but usually the arm would still feel sluggish until the nervous system figures out what the hell just happened. His foot remained placed, but body arced forward. It was preparation for a likely response from the other arm, or worse, finding that the precariously extended arm might not be disabled. The hunch had several flowing possibilities, part of which allowed footwork but he would do what he could to stay stationary.
Leila Ragnarok
The effect on her arm was not as dramatic as it could be. The suit was made to soften most attacks and slow - or stop - most motions directed at her. Despite that, he did manage to land the attack and successfully so, however, Leila's expression didn't change, as if she hadn't felt anything. It wasn't the truth, but the woman locked out the pain to her best ability.
One leg went to his left leg, under knee, delivering powerful kick with boot's edge, and sliding down to stop his foot, while the free hand aimed a blow at arm holding her - slightly below elbow - in hammerfist way. If the goal of freeing the arm was reached, she spun away from him, and disappeared in the shadows.
However, if not, in case, her attacks were deflected or not as effective as expected, she would try to finish the attack on his legs somewhat well, in hopes he would lose his balance and free the grip. As the very last resort, she could use simply 'flickering' away from Raphael.
Raphael Emmerich
In came her kick, skating down his leg. He grit his teeth as she contacted his foot, and when the sole of her shoe left it had that sticky sound, like seperating from hot leather. Yeah, his feet were already burnt but the pain was brief, most nerves deadened or hibernating from recent trauma. Still the force slid his foot back a few inches as well, leaving a small hill of sand behind him. His other foot kept its place, albeit less rooted, giving a broad stance. For her incoming strike towards the arm that blockaded hers, he fully straightened his arm with a rotation of the forearm. His arm lowered and tried to drag hers down with, and as they tried to naturally seperate he went for the wrist, twisting and yanking it across her own chopping path with a twist of his torso. Still, she seemed intent on kicking him regardless of if she chopped her own arm or managed to stop. Perhaps a few kicks to the already contacted leg, likely quick? It depended on how she delivered it, but regardless he finally would have to shift step. The former foundation leg being damaged and slid back, the best option he had was rounding it backwards and closer to his foot. One large sidestep, trying to take root on his other leg while using the (attempted) grip to her arm and tug. He wasn't perfectly rooted but neither was she if kicking, so he tried to sling her by the armgrab and follow through, releasing to try to toss her away. Not a bad first exchange, he had to admit to himself. The debilitating pinpoint blow had seemed minimally effective. Perhaps he would have to try blunt. His stance changed, legs remaining closer together but still a shoulder's width, a slight bounce to him and a pose vaguely comparible to a kickboxer entering a ring. "Nifty." he... either taunted or encouraged. It might be difficult to tell, in the moment.
Leila Ragnarok
Mentally, Leila hissed, despite no visible expression change, when he blockaded attack with her own arm, but reacted accordingly and managed to stop the hit, brief moment before she disabled her own arm for a while. It could have ended real nasty.
Raphael didn't lose balance, but by now she didn't expect it anymore, however, he shifted and she used it, while he was stepping, to use one leg kick in back of knee of the 'unharmed' foot, and although he managed to throw her away, it seemed to be... voluntary, more than anything, because after spin in air, she landed on feet, slid further, hand now touching ground and smirk on her lips. A moment later, and the woman had retreated in shadows.
There was no sound of steps, only the wind and wave splashing, and when she attacked, it was most likely somewhat of a surprise, as tense and cautious Raphael was. Out of seemingly nowhere she came, a kick to the left leg's Tibial point, in middle of his calf muscle, and when he turned to grab her, or spun fully around, a blow to side of his neck was delivered, unless blocked (she attempted to hit this spot no matter what the man did).
If successful, it most likely left him stunned and unable to move so easily for brief moment, which would maybe give her an option to deliver some strong blows to his chest and sides, especially aiming solar plexus.
If she was not captured in some block, which she would try to avoid, while dealing blows back, Leila would retreat, unless he fell or showed some extremely vulnerable position, which the woman doubted as possible outcome.
Raphael Emmerich
Sigh. Into the shadows. A quick glance about with freshly sharpened eyes told him she was using -some- sort of trick. Bare ocean strip, shallow water washing about in the distance, and a sheer drop they had come from. It was the kind of land people rarely built lasting structures on. Sand made poor foundation here, and flood was a threat till the cliff... So the most between them was some driftwood. He built his house a ways back for a reason, even with its... "augmented founndation". Then his best bet was to keep his ears to the waves, and the rhythm. Mm. Feng Shui, anyone? He didn't have full notice of where or how she reappeared, but the ocean's steady rhythm dulled mildly behind him, unmarked to most. It wasn't time enough to fully dodge, but she might be surprised when he springs to the side, losing some footing as he twisted. Her kick connected, at slightly varied angle and less force as the sand kicked up and gave way. That leg kicked forward as he purposefully let himself go for the dirt. The contacted knee to ground became enough center to twist the other extended leg, looking for follow through with his other leg. A literal attempt for a kick in the butt (or lower knee, probably). Still, he found mid-spin there was a hand chopping for the neck, having lost sight in his twist. Mometum was still momentum, so his kick-down might still connect, just intended to give more forward force than expected and maybe tumble her. He would have already been briefly downed as his leg siezed, but he took a dirt-dive and half roll from the neck blow. He tried to rise within a breath, as seen by tensed shoulders pulling his arms in, but that would take a few seconds to cooperate. If she hadn't took a mouthful of sand herself as he hoped, she would have ample time to riddle him with a few strikes. We'll have to see what happens first, because he's trying to get sparks out of his eyes.
Leila Ragnarok
His shift did mildly surprise her, but she carried out her attack routine, little time to re-do it. Although Raphael went away, she followed, and the hit to neck was delivered, a little less powerfully than intended, but still strong, although that moment, despite the twist she immediately performed, the man managed to kick her knee. Her leg bent, but it was a moment, and then she was back 'in line' launching a flurry of kicks and punches while he was slightly out of the game. But as she /had/ lost time, the time to assault him was not as long as Leila had hoped for.
Hopefully before he managed to counter attack or grab at her, or get back on her feet, Leila retreated again. It gave a certain satisfaction to her that she was not near to losing, without no direct usage of her powers. But on that, the woman would dwell later, because it had to be calmness, confidence flowing trough her, locking out any pain. It seemed her faster reflexes and response speed was not much of a help against him, except in few situations.
"I am just getting warmed up," she murmured softly, the voice coming from left, but the next attack came from the opposite in just matters of seconds. Cheating? Maybe. But like she /truly/ cared for things like that.
It depended on his pose, how Leila went about her attack, but most likely another one to disable his arm or legs, and stun. It would be nice to bruise his smug mouth in old-school way - her fist would deliver a punch strong enough for that, for sure.
Raphael Emmerich
It was more the momentum of his move than anything, so it was far from the sort of impact he had tried to put on it. She just... Shortcircuited him mid-swing, hah. His eyes came to focus as he pushed up, pushing the sparks out of his vision and draping his arm over his knee. "Yeah!" once a few seconds brought him into control, and he momentarily felt the burning pain before chambering it away, he sounded... revved up. He sprang up as quickly as he could to the sound of her voice, fully claiming his feet. Her tried to spring in upward angle away from the vocal source to give himself a moment's more reaction time, which meant he actually sprung towards her due to the feint. Accidentally surprise tactic, depending on how ready she was to adjust. If she was aiming for the legs she'd have to deal with his shoulder coming her way first. She might detect his shock spotting her last second, getting out half a curse and jutting out his elbow in a jab at her incoming torso with subconscious defensiveness, sheer reflex while tucking his shoulder up equally unwittingly, natural minimizing his exposed neckside after the last attack. Boom, at least his springing force channeled into a bodycheck, but the same exchange meant being in perfect range for his footing to still be cut out. He dropped to the ground as a good sweepkick cleared his footing out from under him. Rather than the natural reflex to roll away, however, when he hit the ground he half rolled toward a foot until getting one solid arm and foot on the ground. She could possibly step over him, or possibly trip. If she continued, though, he grabbed at an ankle and pulled back. Yoink. Sand fights can be fun. Even if he got her down he rolled fully in a circular way to avoid any punishing response kicks. "C'mon, show me I'm alive." she might notice--no dead eyes, but instead an unusual sharpness and vigor behind his crisp blues. He might be more focused, but there wasn't cold, ghost like detachment. The pain was refreshing and envigorating. It had been too long since a good match, and what pain he wasn't tuning out without a completist, centered mindset was answering something formerly feeling lackluster. He was always a brawler before training... and family. He pushed from the dirt, gesturing her back like he had at the start of the match. "Going to keep slinking off?" what an odd man, envigorated by his bruises and beatings. Well, he didn't have anything else to answer to, so why not feel young again? he was only 40something in mind, not body.
Leila Ragnarok
He was... Big! That was hard to forget in this fight, but, a slight advantage to her. She ducked, however there was also the elbow coming at her, so Leila dodged sideways, while managing to keep posture for a nice sweeping kick, which accomplished the goal - bringing him down. However, the way he acted was surprising, and albeit the woman avoided tripping over, and the first grab, if Raphael grabbed again, she went down.
The air was hit out of her lungs, leaving Leila panting slightly, but it seemed to not have much effect on her vigor. More than kicking and punching the man, she went for slight squirming, as if to get away, to distract Raphael, and then, if it went as planned, grabbed his head, and pushed thumb tip on point near under his earlobe - Mandibular angle point.
If delivered successfully, it gave her a good chance to kick him in stomach with knee and get up. However, if Raphael managed to avoid it, she would still do her best to squirm out of underneath him, possibly delivering a side kick to his butt, more in spite than actually meant harm.
"I will have to remember to beat the daylights out of you before every mission if it makes you so focused," Leila smirked at him. Her hair was a mess now, the long braid really more of caprice for the woman than anything. Some time, it would probably drag her back or down - quite literally.
And then she visible tensed, spinning around, arm extended to one of the dunes, the crossbow becoming more visible.
"You two! Cut out the foreplay and get lost! Some people are trying to sleep, you know," a slumped form appeared right in the shooting line. Apparently, as Leila had mentioned there were "renters" on this territory, who did not recognize either as someone who belonged to this area more than them. "Can't find a quiet corner even outside the city now, sheesh."
The woman lowered armed arm and looked to Raphael. "Seems like I will have to finish handing your rear-end back to you some other time." Her comment was dry. What the man would do with the stranger on his land was none of her business. Leila would gladly punch him, though, for that comment, but then again - the squirming in the sands could have seemed a little like making out from afar.
Leila headed back to the building. She, however, avoided getting anywhere close to Raphael, in case he decided to strike a finishing accord.
He was in the lighter, more maneuverable suit, which made his snaking a bit more reasonable. That, and she'd find out how tantric yoga was good for more than sex. Awkward, but manageable. It almost seemed double-jointed. the old suit couldn't have managed. -That's why it works, with the right distraction.- everyone expects ducts, so you give them just what they want. Usually going down is far easier than up, and the screws gave a perfect red herring to chase. The resealed vent deflected attention. As she took all complicated and impressive methods of escape, he waited for the passing of the light. Reinstigating the wings she saw in her first mission with him, he took a glide down rounding the curve away from the searchlight so as to be lower when it passed by again. Didn't mean he didn't have others to worry about, but at least he cleared the fence and... Skidded on his feet. he was used to the drag and weight of the primary suit. -Your way.- no reason to split up this time, and she knew the new locale.
Give me a few months to learn modern wiring habits, and next time... a blackout could be effective.- his work in construction, electric, plumbing told him basic logic in structure, but electric had probably greatly varied in his absence. -...just bring me somewhere I can at least have pants. I'm a newborn under here.-
Leila Ragnarok
The goal of her moves were not being impressive nor if asked, she would find them complicated. She simply utilized the little suit-wise she had, avoiding using her powers or getting help from him. Although Leila knew she would have to use them during the fight, until then she wanted to keep them unknown. Surprise effect sometimes did wonders.
Leila quirked an eyebrow, taking note that he apparently wasn't planning to use the suit in battle. More advantage for her, definitely. Mind set or not, there was only so much he could do against something hardly visible and mostly untouchable. -Your home then, there is probably some abandoned basketball court or something like that near.-
The flight went in silence, unless he spoke up, and when Raphael went in, Leila fumbled along her suit, to make it more comfortable, as well as turn off unneeded features off. The radio and helmet were taken off - less to work on when 'flickering'. Both crossbows were kept, just in case, and the knife hidden on leg, too.
If by then, he had not returned, she checked for good place for their match on map. And probably sent a little spy after him, to see where he was staying for so long. Apparently, there was an abandoned warehouse nearby, which could work well. For her, the darker, the better. Not like they wanted spectators, too.
Raphael Emmerich
"I live on the beach." he reminded. "The property line includes the nearby sand unless that changed in time. So, when I knock your ass in the dirt, it won't hurt so bad." she could probably sense his cockeyed grin. But back to the lair! a drop of the elevator shaft, he retracted the suit, which revealed that most of even his gauze was gone, skin sunburnt. Casual jeans and a plain wifebeater. He caught is reflection in the glass. "...sad." by most standards he was athletic, but... Well, he was far behind what he was used to. He didn't take too long, really, and emerged with a red scorched tone to his flesh, like a long day in the sun. "Alllright." he cracked his knuckles, sporting his loose, leathery fingerless gloves again. "You ready?" if she had agreed to the beach it was several acres before the drop, which was a small knoll descending to the thick band of sands before the ocean.
Leila Ragnarok
"Well, sorry, I am not your property agent that I know what all you own," she commented dryly.
"Besides, you probably don't know if your land doesn't have "renters" by now." Leila didn't recall he had went on inspection of the area, although she might have missed it. Many of the no-ranks lived where ever there was spot of land, outside the eyes of government, in make-shift huts and tents.
But although the beach was not most strategically best position for her, the woman wasn't going to debate for ages about the location. It could as well turn into fight right here, then. Leila followed his directions in silence, seemingly a little lost in thoughts. The bracelet blinked red few times, but she seemed to not pay any attention to it.
"So, no man made weapons? I promise I will try to not deal any lethal damage to you," she said, in bland tone, apparently serious. To her luck, it was getting close to the second half of September and moon was just starting to grow again. The sky had little light to offer to the beach. The sand did not make a good footing, but it would be Raphael who would have to worry about that more. Leila circled her neck and stretched arms, taking in few deep breaths. Heart rate calmed down and she felt calm, confident.
Raphael Emmerich
"Whatever you feel like using." caution was thrown to the wind. He still had little attachment to the goings on of this life. "You already know I won't kill you, and I'm not a fan of beating up girls, even if you only barely fit the parameters." he spoke while going through a set of basic stretches, and a few essential tai chi foot movements to trace the movement of the sand. "So I'll stop once a point is made. Take it as far as you like, hun." beat him, bruise him, knock him unconscious or worse. He honestly couldn't care less. Looking at the stripped bandages from the shoulder regions under the tank-style top, it might be hard to do much worse to him than he'd already done himself. Poor illumination or not there were risen welts that bubbled most grossly as they tried to heal. He decided on an essential pillar strategy, or as much as the sand would allow. Shoeless and never bothering to even put on socks, his scorched right heel dug deep into the sand. Even the tops of his feet were visibly half-melted, so one might wonder about the soles--which were essential leather now, raw scar tissue. He took vague stance, one arm close to body and another extended, palm up, with a fingertwitch to beckon her in. She could even decide first move, if she wanted to.
Leila Ragnarok
"It's not 'woe is me, save me brave hero' attitude that makes girl a girl." Leila stretched and if he would have watched her carefully, Raphael would have noticed that the movements seemed to create ripples in the darkness, as would a rock thrown in water, only fainter. "Accepting foolish commentary doesn't do it either."
She took note of he took a stable position at first, maybe planning to keep to it as long as possible, and wear her out, then switch to offensive position. But it was not easy to tire her. Leila smirked softly. He was half broken, a weak reflection of Wraith in his glory days. Not that it would make him an easy opponent. As shallow and conceited as Leila could seem, she always tried to not underestimate her enemy. It was the biggest mistake one could make.
Leila launched an attack, but more to test his reaction, than with actual purpose to bring much harm. Leap, kick, dodge, punch, dodge, retreat, if all dodges were successful and Raphael had not grabbed her or something like that. She then retreated to shadows.
Raphael Emmerich
The leap-kick meant there was more air than foundation, probably. He swiveled, leaving his leg rooted and arms up in case it became a wide sweep-kick, to brace with his leg at a more edge of potential impact. Her dodge went unanswered, but the approaching punch earned the forward arm being swept up vertically. It was meant to knock away the arm by catching it at the outside of his forearm in quick 90 degree angle, which placed it further off to the side. The arm that had been held back, closer to the chest, jutted forward as her arm naturally extended, looking to jab two straight fingers as deep into the arm pit as his follow through would allow. Of course, the nature of her suit was still a mystery, so it may be far less effective than intended. Live and learn. If it hit, however, a nerve cluster was about to light on fire, sending a frenzied neural relay down the arm, across the shoulder and into the spine, attempting to briefly paralyze the arm. How used to recovering from pain, and nervous crippling, someone was, was a good part of recovery, but usually the arm would still feel sluggish until the nervous system figures out what the hell just happened. His foot remained placed, but body arced forward. It was preparation for a likely response from the other arm, or worse, finding that the precariously extended arm might not be disabled. The hunch had several flowing possibilities, part of which allowed footwork but he would do what he could to stay stationary.
Leila Ragnarok
The effect on her arm was not as dramatic as it could be. The suit was made to soften most attacks and slow - or stop - most motions directed at her. Despite that, he did manage to land the attack and successfully so, however, Leila's expression didn't change, as if she hadn't felt anything. It wasn't the truth, but the woman locked out the pain to her best ability.
One leg went to his left leg, under knee, delivering powerful kick with boot's edge, and sliding down to stop his foot, while the free hand aimed a blow at arm holding her - slightly below elbow - in hammerfist way. If the goal of freeing the arm was reached, she spun away from him, and disappeared in the shadows.
However, if not, in case, her attacks were deflected or not as effective as expected, she would try to finish the attack on his legs somewhat well, in hopes he would lose his balance and free the grip. As the very last resort, she could use simply 'flickering' away from Raphael.
Raphael Emmerich
In came her kick, skating down his leg. He grit his teeth as she contacted his foot, and when the sole of her shoe left it had that sticky sound, like seperating from hot leather. Yeah, his feet were already burnt but the pain was brief, most nerves deadened or hibernating from recent trauma. Still the force slid his foot back a few inches as well, leaving a small hill of sand behind him. His other foot kept its place, albeit less rooted, giving a broad stance. For her incoming strike towards the arm that blockaded hers, he fully straightened his arm with a rotation of the forearm. His arm lowered and tried to drag hers down with, and as they tried to naturally seperate he went for the wrist, twisting and yanking it across her own chopping path with a twist of his torso. Still, she seemed intent on kicking him regardless of if she chopped her own arm or managed to stop. Perhaps a few kicks to the already contacted leg, likely quick? It depended on how she delivered it, but regardless he finally would have to shift step. The former foundation leg being damaged and slid back, the best option he had was rounding it backwards and closer to his foot. One large sidestep, trying to take root on his other leg while using the (attempted) grip to her arm and tug. He wasn't perfectly rooted but neither was she if kicking, so he tried to sling her by the armgrab and follow through, releasing to try to toss her away. Not a bad first exchange, he had to admit to himself. The debilitating pinpoint blow had seemed minimally effective. Perhaps he would have to try blunt. His stance changed, legs remaining closer together but still a shoulder's width, a slight bounce to him and a pose vaguely comparible to a kickboxer entering a ring. "Nifty." he... either taunted or encouraged. It might be difficult to tell, in the moment.
Leila Ragnarok
Mentally, Leila hissed, despite no visible expression change, when he blockaded attack with her own arm, but reacted accordingly and managed to stop the hit, brief moment before she disabled her own arm for a while. It could have ended real nasty.
Raphael didn't lose balance, but by now she didn't expect it anymore, however, he shifted and she used it, while he was stepping, to use one leg kick in back of knee of the 'unharmed' foot, and although he managed to throw her away, it seemed to be... voluntary, more than anything, because after spin in air, she landed on feet, slid further, hand now touching ground and smirk on her lips. A moment later, and the woman had retreated in shadows.
There was no sound of steps, only the wind and wave splashing, and when she attacked, it was most likely somewhat of a surprise, as tense and cautious Raphael was. Out of seemingly nowhere she came, a kick to the left leg's Tibial point, in middle of his calf muscle, and when he turned to grab her, or spun fully around, a blow to side of his neck was delivered, unless blocked (she attempted to hit this spot no matter what the man did).
If successful, it most likely left him stunned and unable to move so easily for brief moment, which would maybe give her an option to deliver some strong blows to his chest and sides, especially aiming solar plexus.
If she was not captured in some block, which she would try to avoid, while dealing blows back, Leila would retreat, unless he fell or showed some extremely vulnerable position, which the woman doubted as possible outcome.
Raphael Emmerich
Sigh. Into the shadows. A quick glance about with freshly sharpened eyes told him she was using -some- sort of trick. Bare ocean strip, shallow water washing about in the distance, and a sheer drop they had come from. It was the kind of land people rarely built lasting structures on. Sand made poor foundation here, and flood was a threat till the cliff... So the most between them was some driftwood. He built his house a ways back for a reason, even with its... "augmented founndation". Then his best bet was to keep his ears to the waves, and the rhythm. Mm. Feng Shui, anyone? He didn't have full notice of where or how she reappeared, but the ocean's steady rhythm dulled mildly behind him, unmarked to most. It wasn't time enough to fully dodge, but she might be surprised when he springs to the side, losing some footing as he twisted. Her kick connected, at slightly varied angle and less force as the sand kicked up and gave way. That leg kicked forward as he purposefully let himself go for the dirt. The contacted knee to ground became enough center to twist the other extended leg, looking for follow through with his other leg. A literal attempt for a kick in the butt (or lower knee, probably). Still, he found mid-spin there was a hand chopping for the neck, having lost sight in his twist. Mometum was still momentum, so his kick-down might still connect, just intended to give more forward force than expected and maybe tumble her. He would have already been briefly downed as his leg siezed, but he took a dirt-dive and half roll from the neck blow. He tried to rise within a breath, as seen by tensed shoulders pulling his arms in, but that would take a few seconds to cooperate. If she hadn't took a mouthful of sand herself as he hoped, she would have ample time to riddle him with a few strikes. We'll have to see what happens first, because he's trying to get sparks out of his eyes.
Leila Ragnarok
His shift did mildly surprise her, but she carried out her attack routine, little time to re-do it. Although Raphael went away, she followed, and the hit to neck was delivered, a little less powerfully than intended, but still strong, although that moment, despite the twist she immediately performed, the man managed to kick her knee. Her leg bent, but it was a moment, and then she was back 'in line' launching a flurry of kicks and punches while he was slightly out of the game. But as she /had/ lost time, the time to assault him was not as long as Leila had hoped for.
Hopefully before he managed to counter attack or grab at her, or get back on her feet, Leila retreated again. It gave a certain satisfaction to her that she was not near to losing, without no direct usage of her powers. But on that, the woman would dwell later, because it had to be calmness, confidence flowing trough her, locking out any pain. It seemed her faster reflexes and response speed was not much of a help against him, except in few situations.
"I am just getting warmed up," she murmured softly, the voice coming from left, but the next attack came from the opposite in just matters of seconds. Cheating? Maybe. But like she /truly/ cared for things like that.
It depended on his pose, how Leila went about her attack, but most likely another one to disable his arm or legs, and stun. It would be nice to bruise his smug mouth in old-school way - her fist would deliver a punch strong enough for that, for sure.
Raphael Emmerich
It was more the momentum of his move than anything, so it was far from the sort of impact he had tried to put on it. She just... Shortcircuited him mid-swing, hah. His eyes came to focus as he pushed up, pushing the sparks out of his vision and draping his arm over his knee. "Yeah!" once a few seconds brought him into control, and he momentarily felt the burning pain before chambering it away, he sounded... revved up. He sprang up as quickly as he could to the sound of her voice, fully claiming his feet. Her tried to spring in upward angle away from the vocal source to give himself a moment's more reaction time, which meant he actually sprung towards her due to the feint. Accidentally surprise tactic, depending on how ready she was to adjust. If she was aiming for the legs she'd have to deal with his shoulder coming her way first. She might detect his shock spotting her last second, getting out half a curse and jutting out his elbow in a jab at her incoming torso with subconscious defensiveness, sheer reflex while tucking his shoulder up equally unwittingly, natural minimizing his exposed neckside after the last attack. Boom, at least his springing force channeled into a bodycheck, but the same exchange meant being in perfect range for his footing to still be cut out. He dropped to the ground as a good sweepkick cleared his footing out from under him. Rather than the natural reflex to roll away, however, when he hit the ground he half rolled toward a foot until getting one solid arm and foot on the ground. She could possibly step over him, or possibly trip. If she continued, though, he grabbed at an ankle and pulled back. Yoink. Sand fights can be fun. Even if he got her down he rolled fully in a circular way to avoid any punishing response kicks. "C'mon, show me I'm alive." she might notice--no dead eyes, but instead an unusual sharpness and vigor behind his crisp blues. He might be more focused, but there wasn't cold, ghost like detachment. The pain was refreshing and envigorating. It had been too long since a good match, and what pain he wasn't tuning out without a completist, centered mindset was answering something formerly feeling lackluster. He was always a brawler before training... and family. He pushed from the dirt, gesturing her back like he had at the start of the match. "Going to keep slinking off?" what an odd man, envigorated by his bruises and beatings. Well, he didn't have anything else to answer to, so why not feel young again? he was only 40something in mind, not body.
Leila Ragnarok
He was... Big! That was hard to forget in this fight, but, a slight advantage to her. She ducked, however there was also the elbow coming at her, so Leila dodged sideways, while managing to keep posture for a nice sweeping kick, which accomplished the goal - bringing him down. However, the way he acted was surprising, and albeit the woman avoided tripping over, and the first grab, if Raphael grabbed again, she went down.
The air was hit out of her lungs, leaving Leila panting slightly, but it seemed to not have much effect on her vigor. More than kicking and punching the man, she went for slight squirming, as if to get away, to distract Raphael, and then, if it went as planned, grabbed his head, and pushed thumb tip on point near under his earlobe - Mandibular angle point.
If delivered successfully, it gave her a good chance to kick him in stomach with knee and get up. However, if Raphael managed to avoid it, she would still do her best to squirm out of underneath him, possibly delivering a side kick to his butt, more in spite than actually meant harm.
"I will have to remember to beat the daylights out of you before every mission if it makes you so focused," Leila smirked at him. Her hair was a mess now, the long braid really more of caprice for the woman than anything. Some time, it would probably drag her back or down - quite literally.
And then she visible tensed, spinning around, arm extended to one of the dunes, the crossbow becoming more visible.
"You two! Cut out the foreplay and get lost! Some people are trying to sleep, you know," a slumped form appeared right in the shooting line. Apparently, as Leila had mentioned there were "renters" on this territory, who did not recognize either as someone who belonged to this area more than them. "Can't find a quiet corner even outside the city now, sheesh."
The woman lowered armed arm and looked to Raphael. "Seems like I will have to finish handing your rear-end back to you some other time." Her comment was dry. What the man would do with the stranger on his land was none of her business. Leila would gladly punch him, though, for that comment, but then again - the squirming in the sands could have seemed a little like making out from afar.
Leila headed back to the building. She, however, avoided getting anywhere close to Raphael, in case he decided to strike a finishing accord.
Raphael Emmerich
Not entirely sure how it went from a brawl to a few odd twists and being on top of her squirming, he had a moment of being jerked to attention at the taunt somewhere into the motion to just sock her in the chin, he blinked. One, it looks inappropriate. Two, remember you were about to sock a girl in the face. ...embarassing and mortifying, he shuffled back, stood, and dusted off. "Tch." he scoffed. Beat him up every time? "Like I've said. Thievery is pretty petty. Send me somewhere worth my time and dents." he... stayed behind while shaking sand out of his hair. And shirt. ...and pants, when she was decently ahead and he ...cleared out. Hey, at least he didn't have shoes they got in. "Next time, we can play in my basement, if you trust me." if his actions were as straight forward as his fight, she could probably expect even grounds downstairs, or as much as he expects. It was vaguely but not entirely clear she used some odd magic to slink about. The fact that it was literal shadow... well. Oops at the encompassing light downstairs. If it was played there, it would be plenty apparent. "But..." he cricked his neck as he caught up with brief jog. "So, until then. You wanna... go for a beer or something? ...earth does still have beer... right?" or had the whole world gone mad? He paused, realizing how that may seem. "By the way... that's like... Platonic. In my time, you ask girls to a drink, and guys after beer, especially after a good fight and a rearranged nose." odd paused. "Don't exactly have a lot of guys around so..." yeah, probably not her favorite form of respect but being one of the guys was probably more than 'queen bitch' in his head. No false flirts with bros, man. Whether or not she accepted the drink was irrelevent. "Oh man... Haha, it's bleeding." he realized and... Laughed, sitting at the first convenient knoll to dust it off and look. His already damaged skin had become first like leather, and peeled off like paper, ripping and showing a base, deep pink skin. "I'll be back." well, it had made that awkward sound after she stomped on it. "Come in if you want." he... One foot hopped back as much as he could. clearly he hadn't seemed to feel it, but he had the sense to wash that sucker out. To the house, the alcohol, and good ol' antibiotic cream. And more gauze.
Leila Ragnarok
"I don't trust anyone." Her self included. Not fully, at least. However, Leila truly believed in her self. Her power, her strength, her skills... and her goal. The thing everything else rooted from. If it would wilt, Shadow Mask would crumble and fall and maybe never rise from corner she would confine her self in, unless a new drive would be found.
"However, your basement sounds find to me. But don't expect anything even remotely easily compared to tonight, then." Leila knew what she was signing up for. Her powers would be revealed, but, hey, it had to happen sooner or later. And secluded space would be the way she preferred it. The cameras he had, she could disable, or destroy the records. In fact, the woman most likely would do it. And on his word alone, no one would suspect her true self.
To his invite... She was silent briefly, and then informed him: "I don't drink. But if I can get strong coffee, I won't refuse." If he "chilled" with a beer in his hand, perfect thing to set her in a not-sour mood was awfully strong coffee. Any time of day. And ice cream, of course.
Leila didn't accept it because trough fight she had come to like him in any way, no. She needed strong coffee and... although there was something very faintly alike twisted respect growing for him, because Raphael was indeed a formidable enemy, she saw this as an opportunity to find more about him and his weak points. The man seemed awfully "high" after the battle, rising her trough some kind of ranks, maybe taking her as one of the guys, even? There was chance he could sputter something that could come in handy later.
She did come in the house, but only after she fetched a brush from the vehicle. On the steps to the porch, she pulled off her boots and shook the sand out of them, leaving them at the door, after trying to get some sand off her clothes. Then she followed in, most likely to kitchen, and sat down there, unbraiding her hair, to turn it into less tousled and sandy mess.
Raphael Emmerich
The inside of the house had once been elegant in its simplicity. Entering was a short corridor, leading into a livingroom that had gotten cramped when his house was full, but opening secondly into a den with a bay window, around which stairs climbed to the upstairs. To the other way, another narrow hall, which led to a side garage door, an old wash/laundry room (she had been through there a few times for the hidden elevator), and across the hall, the master bed/bath--he doubted his original fridge was in place for the custom convenience... But he doubted he needed the bed-side fridge half. He also went to the kitchen for the basic medical kit, but she got to see him washing his foot out in the kitchen sink, leaning against the island counter behind him. The sink had been replace more than once in his absence, a more simple, boring style. The worn wooden counters in areas were gross misrepresentations of the marble that cracked and had been cheaply replaced in time. It led to a dining room, which squared Off a larger corner of building. The upstairs was mostly mystery, unless she'd had spies bother slinking about. "You should cut that hair, though. I could'a been a douche and swung you around by it. I just don't like fighting dirty." not in a spar, for sure, even if his opponent held to a different code. "Seriously though... You don't drink?" he boggled at her. "I mean... I don't go crazy anymore... Messes up the diet. But man." oh, well. "Coffee, then. So like... does the future have starbucks?" he chatted while tending his foot mid-lean. Flexibility, point. They were everyyywhere before. "And hopefully a bar close to it?" he paused, furrowing his brow. "Brian?" he seemed to talk to no one, subconsciously tapping his ear. "The hell are you calli--you unbearable fuck you're alive. No, now is not a good time." he... realized he just... Did that in front of her. Blinkblink. Conversation over, apparently.
Leila Ragnarok
She brushed her hair, and sent a glare his way. "If you think it would give you serious advantage in the end, you are mistaken." Raphael had a point, but most of the time, her hair length didn't matter. Not with her normal fighting style. Although Leila never got lazy about her physical training and exercises, it was more of a back up thing, except for the mental training and mindset that came with it.
The woman could have explained him that she had tasted wine maybe once in her life, and had never touched beer, but didn't find the need to. Knowing him, he would probably try to talk her into trying it out. But Leila preferred to keep her mind clean. One thing holding a claim over her body was already enough. But she DID intend to drop the boosts, or drugs as they should properly be called.
"No Starbucks, but plenty of evolution. Many are more bars than coffee places during nighttime, from what I know. We will probably stop by one such." Observing his tending of the wound, she arched eyebrows noticing the sudden conversation.
"So, they cloned tech into you. How considerate of Zofies," Leila remarked when it was apparently over. "Need to cancel "plans" and meet up with someone?" she asked casually, braiding the hair back together and now looking at least somewhat normal. She sometimes cared about personal appearance more than liked to admit it.
Raphael Emmerich
"No." he corrected both her assumption, and the talk of plans. "Wait, they would do that?" he looked surprised. Well, he did feel a little odd when he channeled his body flow, but... That hadn't crossed his mind. ...He'd have to find some way to check. Last thing he wanted to find out was he was walking around with a self destruct button in his brainstem or something. "Just... someone figuring out who was on the new line." someone he apparently... Knew. They were just as confused as he was. Word didn't always get around between 'family'. Not his family, by any stretch. Now, how he got a 'line' she can try to figure out, or where it might be. "...Really, would they do that?" he swung down his thickly bandagd foot, applying pressure over the split skin. "...ugh. Getting that in a shoe will be fun." boy, even before the fight he looked like he had beaten himself up, but now he really was a trainwreck. She might notice his skin peeling from the 'sunburn' caused by his nano-suit's launch. His skin hadn't had chance to toughen yet, but it would have no choice, soon. "Think I left my boots in the basement."
Leila Ragnarok
She hadn't thought there were more tech in him than the one reading his vitals and stopping them, if needed, but it seemed like there was. Strange. More information Zofie held from her. Ugh, it really was annoying, that she was to be his "babysitter", yet everything she had to steal from their information sources and check four times to figure if it could be truth, and if not, which version was the closes to truth.
Leila thought back to the Level Nine and The All Seeing Eye he had mentioned, and she had seen briefly noted about in papers about him. Maybe something about that? But how many super naturals did this man have on his friend list? It was a little ridiculous, taking note of fact he was 250 years "out of date". Or should be.
And, despite looking like survivor from bar fight where someone had a miniature fire thrower, Raphael was still strangely lively. She noticed the burns, coming to conclusion the new suit was not truly wearer-friendly. Apparently, the fight had dealt more to him than the man would want to admit. It was a little pleasing, but Leila found her self caring less for this miniature victory than she had expected. Maybe the fact he wasn't bummed about it helped that. Or maybe the wish to strangle Raphael and do various other morbid things to him had simply died a little during battle.
"Go ahead, I will be in vehicle," she said, standing up and slowly walking to exit. The house... The woman shivered. In back of her mind, she could smell the mix of scents burning house produced. And flesh. Leila's pace quickened and when Raphael came outside, she was in vehicle.
"I would... hate to live in such a large, empty house," she said, strangely honest, but it wasn't like she would die every time she said something truthful. Not even her goals forbade to confess things like these. When he got in, she took off, floating towards the large buildings ahead. No music, even if Leila missed it a little now.
They parked at a gnome-ish, or even cat-sized building, when compared to sky scrapers all around it. Its sign was of sun within a moon and looked a little freaky, especially because it changed colors every 3 or 4 seconds, and said "At Crazy Jo's". But it looked welcoming enough and no one drunk came tripping trough the doors.
"One of the bars and coffee places in one," Leila said, getting out.
If they went in, the inside reminded a little of chaos. It was much like someone had thrown a regular bar, with counter, stools at it, secluded seats, and also dance spot, in same building with most common-looking cafe-coffee lounge. Somewhere in area in front of doors, they merged, the colors of walls going over one another in blurred stripes, half of seating styled in bar's way, the other in cafe's. Crazy did fit it after all.
"So, I will order coffee, you can go to bar counter."
Raphael Emmerich
Funny enough, just an easily missed trick of the eye in the past, and an earpiece made for rough skintone concealment to begin with, punching a few small holes round the ear near the skull and projecting a muffled reception. Easy to assume elsewise, though. He's been persistant about slipping by little secrets. The beaten old house still had fresh work, probably is--sanding and, if a few new, half finished spokes of the winding banister said anything, carving out a fresh re-imagining of the once self-crafted home. Something about the house ate at him. No family, no wife to impress, but he was sanding the stairs down from the rough as he had the first time he purchased the shack that became the old heart of the new house a few hundred years ago. He twinged at her comment. "I don't intend to keep it empty." though lord only knows what he might have thought out. He went his way about going downstairs, booting up, and coming along, going to the counter and leaning over. He didn't mind a little rough environment. "Uh..." he somehow doubted his old brands of beer were valid. "Hit me with a few bottles of something cheap and stout." he threw out passively. ...boy, he hoped old currency worked. That was a belated thought. Ivana had offered him work but he hadn't had chance to take care of it. It was as close as she could get to making him take a handout.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila came over a short moment later, wielding (for in size and hotness, it could indeed become a formidable weapon) coffee mug that spread strong scent all around. She stopped next to him, and while the bartender was filling Raphael's glass, pushed money sign to his elbow. "Here, small part of payment for tonight." The money had '100' on it, but he probably had no idea if that was a lot, or not so very much, but it was a considerable sum. Value of money had risen over the time and prices had fallen, albeit not much.
"However, drink with consideration. I won't chauffeur you home if you get totally wasted on the first beers of your life. I rather spare the trouble of kicking you out of my vehicle if you are about to vomit." In her own odd way, it was a not badly meant reminder that his new body would be rather unused to getting drunk, mental training or not. Her tone was no particularly poisonous, as it would be when delivering an insult.
She sipped the coffee, and no matter if Raphael decided to say at the counter or find more quiet corner and chose seats, looked rather comfortable with the situation, despite the somewhat shaggy look. The warmth of the drink, the smell, the taste - all of it was somehow comforting to her. Tea had weaker, but slightly similar effect.
"So, does that stuff tastes like in your time, or different?" Leila was somewhat genuinely curious about that, because although beer was below her interest range, the differences in everything between her world and his were fascinating.
"What you're going to do about the people on your property? Offer them spare bedrooms?" Slight sarcasm, but not meant in too ill manner. "Probably most of them are teens," she finished thoughtfully. Many sought out refugee on properties like his - far from police's and everyone else's sights and some people didn't report them, even when they were found out.
For all Leila knew, there could be even 10 tents and make-shift shacks scattered over the beach area there. She did doubt there were so many, however. It was not too well positioned - hard to escape, and it wouldn't be easy to get food around there. She recalled those scary months, when she had been nine years old, on streets. So confused, horrified. After the glory of her family home, and horror of her kidnapper's place, streets were horrible, yet offered certain freedom. But never were she free from the fears...
Shivering slightly, the woman took another sip, enjoying the warmth at her fingertips. It quieted the memories.
Raphael Emmerich
He was happy at the counter. reminded him of his bartending days at azucenas's green dragon. "I dunno. Hard to really say. Beer comes in all kinds, and I didn't taste it all. Reminds me a bit of Shiner. Not quite the same." he hadn't tasted every beer ever to say if it was the same or not, but just casually tipped it back to try again, and shrugged. "I honestly haven't drank much in... Six, seven years." plus several hundred. Hopefully she gets what he means. "Eh. I'm big enough to hold my own." hopefully that wasn't overconfidence. "I dunno. I was considering renovating it, seeing if I could get Ivana--old friend of mine--to donate towards an orphanage. She's freaking set. Inherited a mansion, married a king." Go figure, the only handouts he'll take is for other people. "I mean, things look grim. I somehow doubt orphans have disappeared. Feels about right for the house. Elsie would have wanted it." as it was their house had half-been one anyway. "So the younger ones might end up staying there. A lot of work to be done first."
Leila Ragnarok
You might have some problems with opening it officially," she said, looking past him to decorations on the wall. The distinction between ranks and no-ranks was very sharp, a mere human like he was, would have problems and lot of tripping stones put in his way, even if Raphael got enough money. And with his work, Leila guessed he would, little to no help would be needed from others. Although Ivana's name as sponsor always would aid the cause.
"But until you want to make it official, I don't see anyone bothering you too much."
"So, you knew in your time that bunch of your friends were... really long lived?" Curiosity killed the cat, but this was no harming question Raphael could get all snappy about, besides if he answered honestly, it would help to gain some clarity in this all. And since it was second person he mentioned as someone he knew, it wasn't too out of blue air.
Raphael Emmerich
He shrugged. "If not that, a shelter or something. It's supposed to be a warm place, not a soulless dump." he'd find his way. That was just his way about it. The question made his brows range. "Well, mostly just Ivana. I avoided 'immortals' or whatever. But between dating Ivana, and my brother being half-whatever they are, I couldn't totally avoid them. Trust me, I wanted to. Damn peacock was a demolition expert, I swear." yes. something about an immortal peacock.
Leila Ragnarok
'Too bad for you then,' she thought. In this coffee-bar, everyone but him was gifted with powers. Well, maybe those scrawny looking teens-young adults in the corner, whom probably had nowhere to really go. They were quiet, so the bartender hadn't found a reason to throw them out. And it wasn't like "no-rank" was written on their forehead. Some years more, with failed rebellion ahead, and they could be branded, though.
"I could bet future looks and is nothing like you imagined. Even I sometime think we stepped back, not forward." If racism, war and poverty had been problems before, they still were, only now there was another thing to judge people about and even larger chance for someone to squeeze others under their heel. She didn't care much for well-being of the World (because it would end with what it began: crash), but those were facts anyone without blindfold would see.
Raphael Emmerich
"Eh, in a way. I didn't know what to expect, but I didn't like the way it was going to begin with. That's why I tried to change it, even just a little bit." one man couldn't change the whole world, though. "If Lode hadn't died we'd probably be... Enslaving alien species, so whatever. At least we're still keeping our problems mostly to ourselves." he tipped back his drink, nearly bottoming his first bottle. "But fuck the grim state of the world. What about you? You seem to know all about me and all I know is you clearly went grey young, and you never smile."
Leila Ragnarok
Leila cringed mentally, her mouth corner twitched and she took big sip of coffee. There had been little hope questions about her could be avoided, maybe only if she asked enough of those to him. But she wasn't good at making conversations casually. Although she had been taught all sides of etiquette and how a lady should behave, look and talk, the woman did not enjoy any of it enough to make it part of her day life. There was no law that made an assassin a quiet person, it was just how Leila was.
"There is nothing to know about me, really. The person from my ID card doesn't even exist," she smirked. And it was the truth. Except a name in Zofie database, she was nowhere else. Apparently, what she did, she did well, or paid well, that even police files had nothing on her. "And the one behind that name... Long since dead." Take it as you will - if she felt dead on inside, or there was a name borrowed of someone deceased, or something more tangled up.
"So, you can think I am like a shadow or ghost walking. And those don't have a real past, do they?" She took another sip of coffee, eyes clouded with thoughts. Apparently, this ghost felt rather haunted with whatever was behind her. But it was a brief moment and then the emotions were tucked away in secret corner again.
"However, I can tell you one thing: I am very focused person. I don't back down or give up, or tolerate much chatting when I am about to start to work. I /will/ accomplish what I have to." It sounded like a promise, and not necessarily to Raphael.
"I wish you luck with the mighty goals, if you pick them up again. You will have wider field to work than ever, I believe. It would be... ironical, really." How, Leila didn't really explain, but she had thought that someone from Zofie would finally do what they kept blabbering about.
Raphael Emmerich
"No, I'm the ghost... The wraith." he cracked his second bottle, half-cursed and looked at the print in his fingers. A few burn layers still hadn't given him the natural leathery grip he was used to. Regardless, it was more to wet a palatte than drink right then. "Someone's gotta exist. You're sitting right here. I ain't asking about the card, I'm asking who stood there and tried very valiantly to beat the shit out of me tonight?" even if it had just revved him up.
Leila Rangarok
He was getting in the swing, or at least it seemed so. Mentally sighing, she braced for whatever would come after 3rd ale. Drunk singing? Wouldn't be past him.
"Fine, then I am Shadow, as usually," Leila shrugged nonchalantly, finishing the coffee. Bartender looked at her, about to offer something, now when there were so few people left, he had lot of time on his hands. But she just shook head, before the man even opened his mouth.
"Depends what you consider makes anyone them selves. Likes, interests, past." If he was persistent, and not set on finding about things she had went trough, there were some stuff she could say. It didn't even have to be real, did it?
"I am very goal driven, it has kept me moving for most of my life."
Raphael Emmerich
He drummed his finger to the table. Let's see. "Yeah, that's a pretty good list to start. Since you seem shy," well, it wasn't the right word, but a subtle taunt, "How about this? You tell me something like that: goals, interests--I'll tell you something reaaallllly embarassing about me. Each small story, one moment of mortifying history you'd never guess." he tried. come on. What little sense of humor he'd seen had always come at his misfortune, so maybe?
Leila Ragnarok
"You're persistent, I have to give you credit for that," as a relentless person, she could appreciate this trait to certain extent. However, Leila didn't like when it was focused so strongly on her. Then again, few more beers and maybe he wouldn't remember anything she told him.
"Fine," she gave in. "Embarrassing stories, or answering my questions about your time." Well, it was either arguing endlessly, or talking, apparently. Why Raphael wanted to know about her so badly, Leila did not truly understand. Did it really bug him so much, that a stranger was assigned as a partner to him? Where did he... have all this friendliness from? The worst, or best of it, was that it seemed rather genuine. He hadn't had an easy life, no sunshine and butterflies, there were even some similarities between him and her, but they had went so different paths. She wondered, twirling the empty cup in her hands, how her life would have turned out to be if someone like him had found her, instead of Madame. Were there even people like that left?
"I am interested in old music, books, art, culture. It can be antique, such as from Renaissance, or from around your time or a little earlier. It has... lost lot of its value in these times, due to new position of their creators, but I find it great nonetheless." Now, in fashion was everything from olden times that came from 1st rank families. And although she was of them, her parents from early childhood had taught her to appreciate all creations and all people. Too bad nobody appreciated them.
"Emilie Autumn, metal bands like Nightwish and Within Temptation, Gheorghe Zamfir... Some artists I really like that people listened in 2000's, from what I know."
"Your turn."
Raphael Emmerich
He paused, rubbing a finger under his nose while pondering his options. Okay. That was better than nothing, he guessed. "Let's see then. You like old art... How about this?" he... Paused to finish bottle two before trying to spit it out, "...I'm an ace in ballet." the statement came suddenly, and he checked to see if his first bottle had leftovers. Negatory. He sputtered out after, "...it, uh. I'm not like, a fag or anything." nice use of language, Rafe. "Just... I was told it was the best way to learn balance and different muscle strengths. I couldn't tell you the name of the classical composers who wrote the songs, but I still have routines I mostly remember." he was red, and not from liquor. He decided to fix that, holding up two fingers to the nearest barmaid or tender and trading off the empty bottles. "How's that? You go."
Leila Ragnarok
She stared at him, half inclined to laugh, but then decided against it. Well, not right now, at least. Although she knew well men didn't dance in women tutu, old childhood cartoon image merged with Raphael, and it looked quite hilarious.
"Well, most men your size don't know how to dance, no matter what they've went trough, so I wouldn't say it's /really/ bad. Would be nice if you knew how to dance waltz, too, however."
Leila narrowed eyes at the order of more bottles. "I would suggest you take those home with you, not finish here. I am not feeling up for experiments how well you will handle more." Actually, she felt rather sure how it would be, after 4 bottles. Maybe she was being a little paranoid about it, but maybe not. But probably paranoid. Anyone drinking made her feel insecure. The thought alone of someone pretty much drunk nearby, made a chill run down her spine.
"In fact, I think the conversation is pretty much over, if you plan to drink them both here." She was absolutely not going to try to carry him out of this place, while he hiccuped and maybe drunkenly sung, or whatever drunks did. "Consider it another fact: I despise drunken men and being in close proximity, such as the same room, with them."
Raphael Emmerich
Not waltz. Elsie didn't go out much anymore until after Ivan was dead. No reason to learn. ...can do a gymnast floor or air routine to song, though." what? Goddamnit he needed to learn how to flip and spring and be spry. He had been rather odd looking, in a group where most men were 5'8'', there he was half a foot taller. In a leotard. He cringed at his own memory. But... She was retracting. He was about to protest, cracking the third when something she said verbally socked him. The things one spots easily are often the things they know themselves. "...bad history?" he frowned. "Sorry. Um... Didn't know." he wasn't sure what he knew but he'd seen alcohol's dark sides. "Coffee house next time." coffee had been his third addiction, and the one he had never quit. amazing how his lungs felt without years of smoking roughing out his breathing. He had quit but... fresh lungs, hey. "Um... should I throw this? I mean... Open bottle in car... was bad in my day. And your shit flies around."
Leila Ragnarok
"We can go for a short walk first or I can fly calmly, so you can finish it slowly either way." Leila shrugged, offering a sort of cooperation, in return for his half-retreat. She felt relieved that he hadn't insisted on finishing At least they didn't have to get into debate about it. Not that leaving him here to get his own transport was something she couldn't do.
She didn't respond to his question, feeling as if admitting it would make the frail barrier fall and all the memories would crash over her. While talking had its pleasant points, this reminded Leila why she preferred to be silent and withdrawn. Too many casual, every day things reminded her things she tried to put aside.
The woman got up, without any further talking, and exited. "So, your turn now."
Raphael Emmerich
He stood, shoving one bottle in an oversized jean pocket and walking alongside. "That was a pretty lame revelation compared to the first one. Right after I gave you something embarassing. Okay... Hm. I failed my first GED test." if she knew about the test, where people who didn't finish highschool went to can an equivalent diploma later. "I waited two more years after that. I'm... Not very booksmart. Show me a blueprint, I can make it, but the rest just goes down a drain or something." well, that and fighting/training, apparently. "Mike got the brains, Gabe got... I'unno, the ability to keep a clean house. And powers, I guess. I fixed pipes. Hah." sip.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila knew he said only because he knew only the tip of the iceberg, and it was fine that way. She didn't feel like explaining drinking was one of things that had eventually pushed her on the bloody path she was now walking. Her first kill... Close eyes. Shut thoughts.
She didn't comment on his little 'secret'. It was not surprising, and in fact, she had read it before in papers about him. Leila didn't care much for official education, she had never went to actual school. Always home-schooled. First with tutors, then under Madame's firm hand - and whip.
"I like animals better than humans. Honest in their likes and dislikes, they don't go around backstabbing. Tricky, yes, but everyone needs to survive."
"And I think three rounds will be enough for tonight."
Raphael Emmerich
"Mm... I thought like that for a bit, can't blame you." at least he showed no signs of being a violent drunk, just overly social, which was probably no surprise. "I figured it never really got me anywhere expecting it. You lose out on a lot that way. Not just people... chances, life. ...tried to make a message of that a long time ago. Doesn't seem like anyone heard." oh, well. "Mm. Great, now you're making me gloomy. It's like... A cloud." he gestured up and down her vaguely. "I will learn to make you laugh, as long as you're stuck around me. I feel it. You wanted to when you pictured me in a tutu." No, he even pictured that when it had first been suggested for training. "Pink doesn't suit me. ...fucking Gabriel..." random odd flashback of Gabriel turning many of his objects pink. Rafe being immune didn't help his car back in the day.
Leila Ragnarok
"Oh, now you see auras. Wonderful." And welcome back, sarcasm! "There is little to nothing not "gloomy"" - hands made quotation marks in air, although the tone and expression lacked mockery that normally came along with it, "about me, especially if you call keeping certain, healthy distance "gloomy"."
"I am not the sunshine type." Half pun, but also the truth. "So, if you're also of the 'smile and all will be well from that alone' people, or can't stand when "gloominess" wears off on you, we can end the get to know attempts with this one." Not a harsh tone, not yet, at least.
But Leila was indeed sick of people who thought like that, especially those that restlessly liked to poke nose into business' of others. She had smiled, and held her head proudly, while welts on her back bled and everyone envied her. And nothing had ever turned better, until she wiped smile along with wishes to have friends.
This was another reason why animals were much better than humans. Cat could climb in your lap, purr and comfort you like that, but the woman was sure, even if they could speak, they wouldn't ask stupid questions: why, how, for what?
"And for your information, I know male ballet dancers don't wear tutu." Pause. "So, are you soon finished with it?" Leila motioned at the beer.
Raphael Emmerich
"Nah. That don't make it all right. Neither does frowning forever, though. Man I almost gave up caring once. That's when it stops getting better." he eyed his bottle. Close enough. "Mmyeah. Let's go. ...where's a trash can? 'N auras are a crock of shit. It's just your EM field."
Leila Ragnarok
"Aura technically a human's bio-EM, so, whatever you really meant by that, I wasn't so far off." She knew people who 'read' and even 'manipulated' with them, although differently than most would expect, but the woman wasn't about to get into discussion about that, especially because she was no expert.
They returned to the vehicle, and for a change, she put some music on. It was a slight relief for her, because Leila really liked to listen to music while driving. It as rather soft instrumental music again. She let Raphael out at his house with dry "good night" and flew off.
Not entirely sure how it went from a brawl to a few odd twists and being on top of her squirming, he had a moment of being jerked to attention at the taunt somewhere into the motion to just sock her in the chin, he blinked. One, it looks inappropriate. Two, remember you were about to sock a girl in the face. ...embarassing and mortifying, he shuffled back, stood, and dusted off. "Tch." he scoffed. Beat him up every time? "Like I've said. Thievery is pretty petty. Send me somewhere worth my time and dents." he... stayed behind while shaking sand out of his hair. And shirt. ...and pants, when she was decently ahead and he ...cleared out. Hey, at least he didn't have shoes they got in. "Next time, we can play in my basement, if you trust me." if his actions were as straight forward as his fight, she could probably expect even grounds downstairs, or as much as he expects. It was vaguely but not entirely clear she used some odd magic to slink about. The fact that it was literal shadow... well. Oops at the encompassing light downstairs. If it was played there, it would be plenty apparent. "But..." he cricked his neck as he caught up with brief jog. "So, until then. You wanna... go for a beer or something? ...earth does still have beer... right?" or had the whole world gone mad? He paused, realizing how that may seem. "By the way... that's like... Platonic. In my time, you ask girls to a drink, and guys after beer, especially after a good fight and a rearranged nose." odd paused. "Don't exactly have a lot of guys around so..." yeah, probably not her favorite form of respect but being one of the guys was probably more than 'queen bitch' in his head. No false flirts with bros, man. Whether or not she accepted the drink was irrelevent. "Oh man... Haha, it's bleeding." he realized and... Laughed, sitting at the first convenient knoll to dust it off and look. His already damaged skin had become first like leather, and peeled off like paper, ripping and showing a base, deep pink skin. "I'll be back." well, it had made that awkward sound after she stomped on it. "Come in if you want." he... One foot hopped back as much as he could. clearly he hadn't seemed to feel it, but he had the sense to wash that sucker out. To the house, the alcohol, and good ol' antibiotic cream. And more gauze.
Leila Ragnarok
"I don't trust anyone." Her self included. Not fully, at least. However, Leila truly believed in her self. Her power, her strength, her skills... and her goal. The thing everything else rooted from. If it would wilt, Shadow Mask would crumble and fall and maybe never rise from corner she would confine her self in, unless a new drive would be found.
"However, your basement sounds find to me. But don't expect anything even remotely easily compared to tonight, then." Leila knew what she was signing up for. Her powers would be revealed, but, hey, it had to happen sooner or later. And secluded space would be the way she preferred it. The cameras he had, she could disable, or destroy the records. In fact, the woman most likely would do it. And on his word alone, no one would suspect her true self.
To his invite... She was silent briefly, and then informed him: "I don't drink. But if I can get strong coffee, I won't refuse." If he "chilled" with a beer in his hand, perfect thing to set her in a not-sour mood was awfully strong coffee. Any time of day. And ice cream, of course.
Leila didn't accept it because trough fight she had come to like him in any way, no. She needed strong coffee and... although there was something very faintly alike twisted respect growing for him, because Raphael was indeed a formidable enemy, she saw this as an opportunity to find more about him and his weak points. The man seemed awfully "high" after the battle, rising her trough some kind of ranks, maybe taking her as one of the guys, even? There was chance he could sputter something that could come in handy later.
She did come in the house, but only after she fetched a brush from the vehicle. On the steps to the porch, she pulled off her boots and shook the sand out of them, leaving them at the door, after trying to get some sand off her clothes. Then she followed in, most likely to kitchen, and sat down there, unbraiding her hair, to turn it into less tousled and sandy mess.
Raphael Emmerich
The inside of the house had once been elegant in its simplicity. Entering was a short corridor, leading into a livingroom that had gotten cramped when his house was full, but opening secondly into a den with a bay window, around which stairs climbed to the upstairs. To the other way, another narrow hall, which led to a side garage door, an old wash/laundry room (she had been through there a few times for the hidden elevator), and across the hall, the master bed/bath--he doubted his original fridge was in place for the custom convenience... But he doubted he needed the bed-side fridge half. He also went to the kitchen for the basic medical kit, but she got to see him washing his foot out in the kitchen sink, leaning against the island counter behind him. The sink had been replace more than once in his absence, a more simple, boring style. The worn wooden counters in areas were gross misrepresentations of the marble that cracked and had been cheaply replaced in time. It led to a dining room, which squared Off a larger corner of building. The upstairs was mostly mystery, unless she'd had spies bother slinking about. "You should cut that hair, though. I could'a been a douche and swung you around by it. I just don't like fighting dirty." not in a spar, for sure, even if his opponent held to a different code. "Seriously though... You don't drink?" he boggled at her. "I mean... I don't go crazy anymore... Messes up the diet. But man." oh, well. "Coffee, then. So like... does the future have starbucks?" he chatted while tending his foot mid-lean. Flexibility, point. They were everyyywhere before. "And hopefully a bar close to it?" he paused, furrowing his brow. "Brian?" he seemed to talk to no one, subconsciously tapping his ear. "The hell are you calli--you unbearable fuck you're alive. No, now is not a good time." he... realized he just... Did that in front of her. Blinkblink. Conversation over, apparently.
Leila Ragnarok
She brushed her hair, and sent a glare his way. "If you think it would give you serious advantage in the end, you are mistaken." Raphael had a point, but most of the time, her hair length didn't matter. Not with her normal fighting style. Although Leila never got lazy about her physical training and exercises, it was more of a back up thing, except for the mental training and mindset that came with it.
The woman could have explained him that she had tasted wine maybe once in her life, and had never touched beer, but didn't find the need to. Knowing him, he would probably try to talk her into trying it out. But Leila preferred to keep her mind clean. One thing holding a claim over her body was already enough. But she DID intend to drop the boosts, or drugs as they should properly be called.
"No Starbucks, but plenty of evolution. Many are more bars than coffee places during nighttime, from what I know. We will probably stop by one such." Observing his tending of the wound, she arched eyebrows noticing the sudden conversation.
"So, they cloned tech into you. How considerate of Zofies," Leila remarked when it was apparently over. "Need to cancel "plans" and meet up with someone?" she asked casually, braiding the hair back together and now looking at least somewhat normal. She sometimes cared about personal appearance more than liked to admit it.
Raphael Emmerich
"No." he corrected both her assumption, and the talk of plans. "Wait, they would do that?" he looked surprised. Well, he did feel a little odd when he channeled his body flow, but... That hadn't crossed his mind. ...He'd have to find some way to check. Last thing he wanted to find out was he was walking around with a self destruct button in his brainstem or something. "Just... someone figuring out who was on the new line." someone he apparently... Knew. They were just as confused as he was. Word didn't always get around between 'family'. Not his family, by any stretch. Now, how he got a 'line' she can try to figure out, or where it might be. "...Really, would they do that?" he swung down his thickly bandagd foot, applying pressure over the split skin. "...ugh. Getting that in a shoe will be fun." boy, even before the fight he looked like he had beaten himself up, but now he really was a trainwreck. She might notice his skin peeling from the 'sunburn' caused by his nano-suit's launch. His skin hadn't had chance to toughen yet, but it would have no choice, soon. "Think I left my boots in the basement."
Leila Ragnarok
She hadn't thought there were more tech in him than the one reading his vitals and stopping them, if needed, but it seemed like there was. Strange. More information Zofie held from her. Ugh, it really was annoying, that she was to be his "babysitter", yet everything she had to steal from their information sources and check four times to figure if it could be truth, and if not, which version was the closes to truth.
Leila thought back to the Level Nine and The All Seeing Eye he had mentioned, and she had seen briefly noted about in papers about him. Maybe something about that? But how many super naturals did this man have on his friend list? It was a little ridiculous, taking note of fact he was 250 years "out of date". Or should be.
And, despite looking like survivor from bar fight where someone had a miniature fire thrower, Raphael was still strangely lively. She noticed the burns, coming to conclusion the new suit was not truly wearer-friendly. Apparently, the fight had dealt more to him than the man would want to admit. It was a little pleasing, but Leila found her self caring less for this miniature victory than she had expected. Maybe the fact he wasn't bummed about it helped that. Or maybe the wish to strangle Raphael and do various other morbid things to him had simply died a little during battle.
"Go ahead, I will be in vehicle," she said, standing up and slowly walking to exit. The house... The woman shivered. In back of her mind, she could smell the mix of scents burning house produced. And flesh. Leila's pace quickened and when Raphael came outside, she was in vehicle.
"I would... hate to live in such a large, empty house," she said, strangely honest, but it wasn't like she would die every time she said something truthful. Not even her goals forbade to confess things like these. When he got in, she took off, floating towards the large buildings ahead. No music, even if Leila missed it a little now.
They parked at a gnome-ish, or even cat-sized building, when compared to sky scrapers all around it. Its sign was of sun within a moon and looked a little freaky, especially because it changed colors every 3 or 4 seconds, and said "At Crazy Jo's". But it looked welcoming enough and no one drunk came tripping trough the doors.
"One of the bars and coffee places in one," Leila said, getting out.
If they went in, the inside reminded a little of chaos. It was much like someone had thrown a regular bar, with counter, stools at it, secluded seats, and also dance spot, in same building with most common-looking cafe-coffee lounge. Somewhere in area in front of doors, they merged, the colors of walls going over one another in blurred stripes, half of seating styled in bar's way, the other in cafe's. Crazy did fit it after all.
"So, I will order coffee, you can go to bar counter."
Raphael Emmerich
Funny enough, just an easily missed trick of the eye in the past, and an earpiece made for rough skintone concealment to begin with, punching a few small holes round the ear near the skull and projecting a muffled reception. Easy to assume elsewise, though. He's been persistant about slipping by little secrets. The beaten old house still had fresh work, probably is--sanding and, if a few new, half finished spokes of the winding banister said anything, carving out a fresh re-imagining of the once self-crafted home. Something about the house ate at him. No family, no wife to impress, but he was sanding the stairs down from the rough as he had the first time he purchased the shack that became the old heart of the new house a few hundred years ago. He twinged at her comment. "I don't intend to keep it empty." though lord only knows what he might have thought out. He went his way about going downstairs, booting up, and coming along, going to the counter and leaning over. He didn't mind a little rough environment. "Uh..." he somehow doubted his old brands of beer were valid. "Hit me with a few bottles of something cheap and stout." he threw out passively. ...boy, he hoped old currency worked. That was a belated thought. Ivana had offered him work but he hadn't had chance to take care of it. It was as close as she could get to making him take a handout.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila came over a short moment later, wielding (for in size and hotness, it could indeed become a formidable weapon) coffee mug that spread strong scent all around. She stopped next to him, and while the bartender was filling Raphael's glass, pushed money sign to his elbow. "Here, small part of payment for tonight." The money had '100' on it, but he probably had no idea if that was a lot, or not so very much, but it was a considerable sum. Value of money had risen over the time and prices had fallen, albeit not much.
"However, drink with consideration. I won't chauffeur you home if you get totally wasted on the first beers of your life. I rather spare the trouble of kicking you out of my vehicle if you are about to vomit." In her own odd way, it was a not badly meant reminder that his new body would be rather unused to getting drunk, mental training or not. Her tone was no particularly poisonous, as it would be when delivering an insult.
She sipped the coffee, and no matter if Raphael decided to say at the counter or find more quiet corner and chose seats, looked rather comfortable with the situation, despite the somewhat shaggy look. The warmth of the drink, the smell, the taste - all of it was somehow comforting to her. Tea had weaker, but slightly similar effect.
"So, does that stuff tastes like in your time, or different?" Leila was somewhat genuinely curious about that, because although beer was below her interest range, the differences in everything between her world and his were fascinating.
"What you're going to do about the people on your property? Offer them spare bedrooms?" Slight sarcasm, but not meant in too ill manner. "Probably most of them are teens," she finished thoughtfully. Many sought out refugee on properties like his - far from police's and everyone else's sights and some people didn't report them, even when they were found out.
For all Leila knew, there could be even 10 tents and make-shift shacks scattered over the beach area there. She did doubt there were so many, however. It was not too well positioned - hard to escape, and it wouldn't be easy to get food around there. She recalled those scary months, when she had been nine years old, on streets. So confused, horrified. After the glory of her family home, and horror of her kidnapper's place, streets were horrible, yet offered certain freedom. But never were she free from the fears...
Shivering slightly, the woman took another sip, enjoying the warmth at her fingertips. It quieted the memories.
Raphael Emmerich
He was happy at the counter. reminded him of his bartending days at azucenas's green dragon. "I dunno. Hard to really say. Beer comes in all kinds, and I didn't taste it all. Reminds me a bit of Shiner. Not quite the same." he hadn't tasted every beer ever to say if it was the same or not, but just casually tipped it back to try again, and shrugged. "I honestly haven't drank much in... Six, seven years." plus several hundred. Hopefully she gets what he means. "Eh. I'm big enough to hold my own." hopefully that wasn't overconfidence. "I dunno. I was considering renovating it, seeing if I could get Ivana--old friend of mine--to donate towards an orphanage. She's freaking set. Inherited a mansion, married a king." Go figure, the only handouts he'll take is for other people. "I mean, things look grim. I somehow doubt orphans have disappeared. Feels about right for the house. Elsie would have wanted it." as it was their house had half-been one anyway. "So the younger ones might end up staying there. A lot of work to be done first."
Leila Ragnarok
You might have some problems with opening it officially," she said, looking past him to decorations on the wall. The distinction between ranks and no-ranks was very sharp, a mere human like he was, would have problems and lot of tripping stones put in his way, even if Raphael got enough money. And with his work, Leila guessed he would, little to no help would be needed from others. Although Ivana's name as sponsor always would aid the cause.
"But until you want to make it official, I don't see anyone bothering you too much."
"So, you knew in your time that bunch of your friends were... really long lived?" Curiosity killed the cat, but this was no harming question Raphael could get all snappy about, besides if he answered honestly, it would help to gain some clarity in this all. And since it was second person he mentioned as someone he knew, it wasn't too out of blue air.
Raphael Emmerich
He shrugged. "If not that, a shelter or something. It's supposed to be a warm place, not a soulless dump." he'd find his way. That was just his way about it. The question made his brows range. "Well, mostly just Ivana. I avoided 'immortals' or whatever. But between dating Ivana, and my brother being half-whatever they are, I couldn't totally avoid them. Trust me, I wanted to. Damn peacock was a demolition expert, I swear." yes. something about an immortal peacock.
Leila Ragnarok
'Too bad for you then,' she thought. In this coffee-bar, everyone but him was gifted with powers. Well, maybe those scrawny looking teens-young adults in the corner, whom probably had nowhere to really go. They were quiet, so the bartender hadn't found a reason to throw them out. And it wasn't like "no-rank" was written on their forehead. Some years more, with failed rebellion ahead, and they could be branded, though.
"I could bet future looks and is nothing like you imagined. Even I sometime think we stepped back, not forward." If racism, war and poverty had been problems before, they still were, only now there was another thing to judge people about and even larger chance for someone to squeeze others under their heel. She didn't care much for well-being of the World (because it would end with what it began: crash), but those were facts anyone without blindfold would see.
Raphael Emmerich
"Eh, in a way. I didn't know what to expect, but I didn't like the way it was going to begin with. That's why I tried to change it, even just a little bit." one man couldn't change the whole world, though. "If Lode hadn't died we'd probably be... Enslaving alien species, so whatever. At least we're still keeping our problems mostly to ourselves." he tipped back his drink, nearly bottoming his first bottle. "But fuck the grim state of the world. What about you? You seem to know all about me and all I know is you clearly went grey young, and you never smile."
Leila Ragnarok
Leila cringed mentally, her mouth corner twitched and she took big sip of coffee. There had been little hope questions about her could be avoided, maybe only if she asked enough of those to him. But she wasn't good at making conversations casually. Although she had been taught all sides of etiquette and how a lady should behave, look and talk, the woman did not enjoy any of it enough to make it part of her day life. There was no law that made an assassin a quiet person, it was just how Leila was.
"There is nothing to know about me, really. The person from my ID card doesn't even exist," she smirked. And it was the truth. Except a name in Zofie database, she was nowhere else. Apparently, what she did, she did well, or paid well, that even police files had nothing on her. "And the one behind that name... Long since dead." Take it as you will - if she felt dead on inside, or there was a name borrowed of someone deceased, or something more tangled up.
"So, you can think I am like a shadow or ghost walking. And those don't have a real past, do they?" She took another sip of coffee, eyes clouded with thoughts. Apparently, this ghost felt rather haunted with whatever was behind her. But it was a brief moment and then the emotions were tucked away in secret corner again.
"However, I can tell you one thing: I am very focused person. I don't back down or give up, or tolerate much chatting when I am about to start to work. I /will/ accomplish what I have to." It sounded like a promise, and not necessarily to Raphael.
"I wish you luck with the mighty goals, if you pick them up again. You will have wider field to work than ever, I believe. It would be... ironical, really." How, Leila didn't really explain, but she had thought that someone from Zofie would finally do what they kept blabbering about.
Raphael Emmerich
"No, I'm the ghost... The wraith." he cracked his second bottle, half-cursed and looked at the print in his fingers. A few burn layers still hadn't given him the natural leathery grip he was used to. Regardless, it was more to wet a palatte than drink right then. "Someone's gotta exist. You're sitting right here. I ain't asking about the card, I'm asking who stood there and tried very valiantly to beat the shit out of me tonight?" even if it had just revved him up.
Leila Rangarok
He was getting in the swing, or at least it seemed so. Mentally sighing, she braced for whatever would come after 3rd ale. Drunk singing? Wouldn't be past him.
"Fine, then I am Shadow, as usually," Leila shrugged nonchalantly, finishing the coffee. Bartender looked at her, about to offer something, now when there were so few people left, he had lot of time on his hands. But she just shook head, before the man even opened his mouth.
"Depends what you consider makes anyone them selves. Likes, interests, past." If he was persistent, and not set on finding about things she had went trough, there were some stuff she could say. It didn't even have to be real, did it?
"I am very goal driven, it has kept me moving for most of my life."
Raphael Emmerich
He drummed his finger to the table. Let's see. "Yeah, that's a pretty good list to start. Since you seem shy," well, it wasn't the right word, but a subtle taunt, "How about this? You tell me something like that: goals, interests--I'll tell you something reaaallllly embarassing about me. Each small story, one moment of mortifying history you'd never guess." he tried. come on. What little sense of humor he'd seen had always come at his misfortune, so maybe?
Leila Ragnarok
"You're persistent, I have to give you credit for that," as a relentless person, she could appreciate this trait to certain extent. However, Leila didn't like when it was focused so strongly on her. Then again, few more beers and maybe he wouldn't remember anything she told him.
"Fine," she gave in. "Embarrassing stories, or answering my questions about your time." Well, it was either arguing endlessly, or talking, apparently. Why Raphael wanted to know about her so badly, Leila did not truly understand. Did it really bug him so much, that a stranger was assigned as a partner to him? Where did he... have all this friendliness from? The worst, or best of it, was that it seemed rather genuine. He hadn't had an easy life, no sunshine and butterflies, there were even some similarities between him and her, but they had went so different paths. She wondered, twirling the empty cup in her hands, how her life would have turned out to be if someone like him had found her, instead of Madame. Were there even people like that left?
"I am interested in old music, books, art, culture. It can be antique, such as from Renaissance, or from around your time or a little earlier. It has... lost lot of its value in these times, due to new position of their creators, but I find it great nonetheless." Now, in fashion was everything from olden times that came from 1st rank families. And although she was of them, her parents from early childhood had taught her to appreciate all creations and all people. Too bad nobody appreciated them.
"Emilie Autumn, metal bands like Nightwish and Within Temptation, Gheorghe Zamfir... Some artists I really like that people listened in 2000's, from what I know."
"Your turn."
Raphael Emmerich
He paused, rubbing a finger under his nose while pondering his options. Okay. That was better than nothing, he guessed. "Let's see then. You like old art... How about this?" he... Paused to finish bottle two before trying to spit it out, "...I'm an ace in ballet." the statement came suddenly, and he checked to see if his first bottle had leftovers. Negatory. He sputtered out after, "...it, uh. I'm not like, a fag or anything." nice use of language, Rafe. "Just... I was told it was the best way to learn balance and different muscle strengths. I couldn't tell you the name of the classical composers who wrote the songs, but I still have routines I mostly remember." he was red, and not from liquor. He decided to fix that, holding up two fingers to the nearest barmaid or tender and trading off the empty bottles. "How's that? You go."
Leila Ragnarok
She stared at him, half inclined to laugh, but then decided against it. Well, not right now, at least. Although she knew well men didn't dance in women tutu, old childhood cartoon image merged with Raphael, and it looked quite hilarious.
"Well, most men your size don't know how to dance, no matter what they've went trough, so I wouldn't say it's /really/ bad. Would be nice if you knew how to dance waltz, too, however."
Leila narrowed eyes at the order of more bottles. "I would suggest you take those home with you, not finish here. I am not feeling up for experiments how well you will handle more." Actually, she felt rather sure how it would be, after 4 bottles. Maybe she was being a little paranoid about it, but maybe not. But probably paranoid. Anyone drinking made her feel insecure. The thought alone of someone pretty much drunk nearby, made a chill run down her spine.
"In fact, I think the conversation is pretty much over, if you plan to drink them both here." She was absolutely not going to try to carry him out of this place, while he hiccuped and maybe drunkenly sung, or whatever drunks did. "Consider it another fact: I despise drunken men and being in close proximity, such as the same room, with them."
Raphael Emmerich
Not waltz. Elsie didn't go out much anymore until after Ivan was dead. No reason to learn. ...can do a gymnast floor or air routine to song, though." what? Goddamnit he needed to learn how to flip and spring and be spry. He had been rather odd looking, in a group where most men were 5'8'', there he was half a foot taller. In a leotard. He cringed at his own memory. But... She was retracting. He was about to protest, cracking the third when something she said verbally socked him. The things one spots easily are often the things they know themselves. "...bad history?" he frowned. "Sorry. Um... Didn't know." he wasn't sure what he knew but he'd seen alcohol's dark sides. "Coffee house next time." coffee had been his third addiction, and the one he had never quit. amazing how his lungs felt without years of smoking roughing out his breathing. He had quit but... fresh lungs, hey. "Um... should I throw this? I mean... Open bottle in car... was bad in my day. And your shit flies around."
Leila Ragnarok
"We can go for a short walk first or I can fly calmly, so you can finish it slowly either way." Leila shrugged, offering a sort of cooperation, in return for his half-retreat. She felt relieved that he hadn't insisted on finishing At least they didn't have to get into debate about it. Not that leaving him here to get his own transport was something she couldn't do.
She didn't respond to his question, feeling as if admitting it would make the frail barrier fall and all the memories would crash over her. While talking had its pleasant points, this reminded Leila why she preferred to be silent and withdrawn. Too many casual, every day things reminded her things she tried to put aside.
The woman got up, without any further talking, and exited. "So, your turn now."
Raphael Emmerich
He stood, shoving one bottle in an oversized jean pocket and walking alongside. "That was a pretty lame revelation compared to the first one. Right after I gave you something embarassing. Okay... Hm. I failed my first GED test." if she knew about the test, where people who didn't finish highschool went to can an equivalent diploma later. "I waited two more years after that. I'm... Not very booksmart. Show me a blueprint, I can make it, but the rest just goes down a drain or something." well, that and fighting/training, apparently. "Mike got the brains, Gabe got... I'unno, the ability to keep a clean house. And powers, I guess. I fixed pipes. Hah." sip.
Leila Ragnarok
Leila knew he said only because he knew only the tip of the iceberg, and it was fine that way. She didn't feel like explaining drinking was one of things that had eventually pushed her on the bloody path she was now walking. Her first kill... Close eyes. Shut thoughts.
She didn't comment on his little 'secret'. It was not surprising, and in fact, she had read it before in papers about him. Leila didn't care much for official education, she had never went to actual school. Always home-schooled. First with tutors, then under Madame's firm hand - and whip.
"I like animals better than humans. Honest in their likes and dislikes, they don't go around backstabbing. Tricky, yes, but everyone needs to survive."
"And I think three rounds will be enough for tonight."
Raphael Emmerich
"Mm... I thought like that for a bit, can't blame you." at least he showed no signs of being a violent drunk, just overly social, which was probably no surprise. "I figured it never really got me anywhere expecting it. You lose out on a lot that way. Not just people... chances, life. ...tried to make a message of that a long time ago. Doesn't seem like anyone heard." oh, well. "Mm. Great, now you're making me gloomy. It's like... A cloud." he gestured up and down her vaguely. "I will learn to make you laugh, as long as you're stuck around me. I feel it. You wanted to when you pictured me in a tutu." No, he even pictured that when it had first been suggested for training. "Pink doesn't suit me. ...fucking Gabriel..." random odd flashback of Gabriel turning many of his objects pink. Rafe being immune didn't help his car back in the day.
Leila Ragnarok
"Oh, now you see auras. Wonderful." And welcome back, sarcasm! "There is little to nothing not "gloomy"" - hands made quotation marks in air, although the tone and expression lacked mockery that normally came along with it, "about me, especially if you call keeping certain, healthy distance "gloomy"."
"I am not the sunshine type." Half pun, but also the truth. "So, if you're also of the 'smile and all will be well from that alone' people, or can't stand when "gloominess" wears off on you, we can end the get to know attempts with this one." Not a harsh tone, not yet, at least.
But Leila was indeed sick of people who thought like that, especially those that restlessly liked to poke nose into business' of others. She had smiled, and held her head proudly, while welts on her back bled and everyone envied her. And nothing had ever turned better, until she wiped smile along with wishes to have friends.
This was another reason why animals were much better than humans. Cat could climb in your lap, purr and comfort you like that, but the woman was sure, even if they could speak, they wouldn't ask stupid questions: why, how, for what?
"And for your information, I know male ballet dancers don't wear tutu." Pause. "So, are you soon finished with it?" Leila motioned at the beer.
Raphael Emmerich
"Nah. That don't make it all right. Neither does frowning forever, though. Man I almost gave up caring once. That's when it stops getting better." he eyed his bottle. Close enough. "Mmyeah. Let's go. ...where's a trash can? 'N auras are a crock of shit. It's just your EM field."
Leila Ragnarok
"Aura technically a human's bio-EM, so, whatever you really meant by that, I wasn't so far off." She knew people who 'read' and even 'manipulated' with them, although differently than most would expect, but the woman wasn't about to get into discussion about that, especially because she was no expert.
They returned to the vehicle, and for a change, she put some music on. It was a slight relief for her, because Leila really liked to listen to music while driving. It as rather soft instrumental music again. She let Raphael out at his house with dry "good night" and flew off.
Raphael Emmerich, Narrator
"Mm. Yup." he... Apparently wasn't behind on that. He'd run into a lot of new age hooplah when he started trying to train, and found too many frauds. Of course the body produced a field--even Dante had commented on one of her visits, to Rafe, that his EM field was weakened. But auras, pink because happy, green because healing, he took that about as far as the magic talk in my little ponies. The ride back was quiet. "Yeah. Thanks and... We can kill each other another time." and with that, she was gone and he was sitting on a damaged porch with a beer. Dante was still webcrawling, updating, and finding basic intel about the state of the world. Rafe took a whole hour to himself, staring off and drinking his last bottle. His sleep was more restful than normal, possibly alcohol induced... And he woke on the steps. His next day would be returning to Ivana's after driving seemlessly aimlessly through the city, seeing the changes. Ivana's security barrier was further active than normal, making slip ins difficult; it was no response to Rafe's situation, but rather protecting from a perceived threat in the basement. That would be a mystery for later, though. He made use of the back yard jacuzzi to release tension, the pool to stretch and exercise, and ultimately went back home, gathering spare piping and wires. Next day? heading back with a small bundle and disappearing into the manor, taking several hours and coming back sans pipes and such. Yes, he's back to being a repairman, but he had money for it, albeit only about 100. And that was after she forced a tip on him. It might be noticed that Ivana, Tara and Tyler were staying outside both days, and nights, under a quick-fold tent. No sign of Ash.
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok
Dark room, foul smell. "Safe" corner in which to hide. He is home. He is coming. It gets worse every time. This could be 349th night of Captivity. Or maybe more? Less? After His beatings, it's hard to keep proper count.
Doors crash open, light making a path across the dirty floor.
"Come 'ere, yu little bitch." Shivers, tears. "I SAID: COME 'ERE, BITCH."
More tears, getting up, and trembling steps. Yanked harshly by arm. Wince. The touch is Disgusting. Slap. Head spinning.
"Yuu little bitch, yu no good for anythang!" His breathe reeks. He reeks. Alcohol, vomit, sweat, all the odors of drunk man who hasn't washed for long time.
She has bad feeling about tonight. "Yuu bitch, stubbrn, not do as I say!" He holds her tight, she squirms, tries to not cry. Suddenly He shifts, leans toward her. "Well, whores need'ta be taught early!" He grabs her by hair and drags to the mattress in corner. Throws her onto it.
And starts to unbuckle. She panics. She doesn't know what is about to happen. But she is afraid. Sometimes He has touched her. All over body. Holds her down, no squirming or screaming helps. He just laughs then. He is laughing now, too.
It's dark, she can't see properly. Is He really naked-half naked? She tries to get past him, to the doors. He catches, hits her now, again and again, throws her back down. She whimpers, head bashing against the brick wall.
He drops onto mattress, clumsy, but strong hands tearing her clothes. "No one gonna help ya, whooore! Why resist, eh? Yur mother, whore too, whor'd round till got ya from profitable guy. STOP SQUIRMING, DAMN IT!"
She snarls and hisses, in sudden rage claws at him. And then something happens. The room... it becomes brighter, no, not brighter. It's like fog has lifted, and she sees better than ever. And... Now he screaming. Someone - something - is helping her! He is pulled back, restrained by dark tendrils. Ripped apart, slashed all over. Gutted. And she can see every detail. It's so close, the blood splashes on her. It's warm, sticky.
She doesn't want to see, the joy of being saved turns into horror. But she can't leave, no. It's display just for her. Someone in her mind tells her that. It asks, if mistress is happy now, when final body part - head with gouged out eyes - hits the ground.
She scrambles up, rushes out of the room, slipping and falling few times into all that is now on the floor. The strange darkness follows, it's part of her, SHE is the Monster now...
Leila stared in the darkness, blankly. She had thought... hoped that she had gotten over it. She had managed to keep her cool in the bar, with the drunk people, watched Raphael drink and not flipped out at the scent of alcohol. But dreams revealed the truth. Memories were still there. Each scent, touch, feeling. Groaning softly, the woman buried head in pillow.
Air felt cold on her arms and back, until soft darkness fell over her physically, as a comforting layer. It had taken her so long, so long to accept them, to accept what they - her - had done. But now they were her most dear, loyal companions. Leila sighed softly and then got up. After shower, she avoided looking in mirror, not wanting to envision her self covered in blood, from the dream.
It was afternoon now. Because of night coffee, she had stayed up late, researching and planning. Avoided sleeping, on purpose. But in the end gave in, for few hours. It had been enough. Leila dived full force in her paper work, until Zofie sent her message she was supposed to give Raphael his new identification papers, and instruct him about bank.
Screw them. It could wait. He wasn't in her reach right now anyways. His ex had become more cautious, the shadows had very hard time finding anything out and she couldn't just drop by their doors, too.
Two days after that, however, the vehicle stopped by his house, maybe just before he was about to leave. Leila got out, looking slightly worn down - it was mostly visible in eyes that seemed duller, slightly lacking the angry spite, always boiling in them. "Here." She simply handed him a package. "All papers to make you a proper citizen. Bank card and information on your account, too. You're wealthy again."
Raphael Emmerich
is own memories and dreams were ironically on his would-be restful nights, such as days of menial labor on Ivana's sink rather than training or full blown reconstruction. His were different. The phantasmal feeling of a wife alongside, even when waking. As far as he cared, it had only been a month or so, no more than two, since she was right there with him. He even imagined a bit of the next child they had recently thought of, as Elsie bordered that nervous 40 mark. Nothing ever stuck till morning, though. No matter where he slept it was cold and vacant when he sat up. It all sealed away nicely as he trained himself ill.
Ivana... Was an awkwardness, but his closest to comfort. He learned long ago not to read anything from her incidental advances. She was just 'that way'. Instead there was that... Odd fact that the kids he had considered stepfathering were there, still alive, looking younger than him. Man, even he realized he was an idiot at times. ...wash away. The handstand he'd been performing parallel to a support from the porch, but not touching, lowered him further. Dreams, memories, nothing useful now. Elsie had always hated the Wraith, even if she loved the man. Both the suit and attitude could be frightening. One thought after another vanished. By the time Ragnarok got there, he was in a cross legged and folded arm position, supported by the neck. Yes, he did lean to the wall, but still it couldnt be particularly healthy, could it?
He opened his eyes--crisp blues coldly focused, and unfolded an arm to reach out. There was a noticeable quake of muscles but nothing to show signs of quitting. He flipped the paperwork... While upside down. "Enough to buy back time lost?" of course, it was a cool rhetoric. "I don't need your money, just my life." he bluntly rejected. Well, not like she couldn't just leave it there, as he clearly wanted at least the I.D. "You seem paler than usual."
Leila Ragnarok
Leila understood his bitterness, his spite. The wish to return long lost. When she was a teenager, she spent nights imagining her life how it would be, had not the tragedy.... No, the monstrosity, the massacre, occurred. She would have studied to become a chemist, or even doctor. Probably save, not take lives, with her gifts, whichever path she chose. She would have been happy, not the broken shell of today. Shell that the woman started to believe she would never be able to fill with anything else than hatred, pain, memories and well hidden fear.
"Nothing's more precious than memories of happiness, although they bring bitersweet taste with them. At least you never watched them scream for mercy before their death, you just woke to find them gone, after your past self and them had a good life." It wasn't truly anything personal, no revelation. Leila never heard them scream for mercy. Only thing she knew of that night was scent of burning mansion and flesh. Her parents probably didn't even beg for mercy. Father certainly didn't. Maybe mother asked for her daughters to be spared...
Leila leaned against the wall, staring blankly across. "I would say that you would be more fool than ever to not use what you earn. You go on their missions, you have a house to rebuild. If you don't believe Zofie's cause, you can use them to make your own."
"Have you made a chart of my skin shades?" she asked, in response to his observation, crossing arms under her chest, eyes finally focusing on the man. Dull eyes, as if even the sarcasm brought no flare to her. Leila knew she was paler, the drugs had been taking their toll on her recently. She was losing appetite, too, either because of drugs, or the memories that haunted her so strongly. Oh, December suddenly felt so near and a true Hell she would have to live trough.
Raphael Emmerich
He flipped down and cracked his neck a few times. "No, he just watches what he could have, convincing himself he isn't a copy." ignore the third person narrative. "A few jobs barely make me worthy of 'wealthy'. I'll be making sure I don't find myself indebted to anyone." his house to finish drew a snort. Perhaps a nice funding for an orphanage. Anyone trying to call favors later for fund sourcing would have to explain pulling it from homeless kids. Hopefully empathy wasn't totally lacking these days. But that was a thought long away. "It is the effort, not the simple answer, that gives a house heart and makes it home." that... was apparently not how he was going to spend it. Of course, a crack at the open doors revealed an oddly simplistic but charming style of woodcrafting for the banisters and rails. A few pieces of driftwood nearby baked and dried in the sun, waiting for a few more places in the stairs. It wouldn't be solid flooring, but was light and easy to piece together in trimmings. ...he is an odd and stubborn man. "No, but I should start. I never realized there were so many shades of white."
Leila Ragnarok
She sighed, softly, slightly agitated by Raphael, yet again. He was stubborn and this... honor code of his, he seemed to follow, no matter what. No debts, no deaths, no beating up a woman, blah blah... Strange how she always met people who fell into one end of exaggerating or other. Either they were morally crippled, or shackled by their ideas of justice. The last never really reached their goals.
"You will always be in debt to them, in their opinion. I am not saying, wealth makes you worthy or anything, but if you're inclined to do some good, the money your earn is pretty good beginning for it."
She was silent for a while, staring at the house, and the little she could see trough the cracked door. When the woman spoke, her voice was quieter than before.
"Sometimes I think, would be best for you to pour your feelings and memories in it, make a standing embodiment of it, and then move to someplace else. Leave it behind, honored, unforgotten, but not haunting you every moment. As long as you walk these halls, their laugh will echo."
Then she shrugged, as if dismissing seriousness and feeling of what she had said. "But, oh, they call me crazy and it's your place. However, you should look into shades of white and gray, if you're so interested. Opens lots of possibility for paint colors." The woman smirked slightly.
Leila then straightened up, turning around to go to the vehicle. Yet, she paused, as if she had just remembered something. "I keep thinking, are you really able to go for what you need and want, or will you tangle in nobility ropes and hang your self? I do wonder about that. Hasn't happened for a while." She chuckled then, shaking head softly. "Well, we will see, we will see. Maybe you just need to find it a-new."
Raphael Emmerich
"If it is my life they feel I owe them for... They should come and takt it before I make it my own." he reviewed his documents. Anything new to know about, as he leans there? "...I'll stay, if only because Sheol is beneath it. If I manage to get what I want... Then there'll be enough new noise to not hear echoes. I built myself from the dirt before, I can do it again. Even as a 'no class'." er, rank... But an appropriate slip, no? "...and white is an accent, not a primary. Just enough to make the right features pop. But I guess you work in monochrome. It'd be nice to see you in more color some day." he shrugged, wandering towards his door and hesitating. "Oh, right. I was gonna ask. Are the police like... Civilian, or militarized? Always wanted to take part... Couldn't before. I just don't intend to occupy or supress." and if that was an answer, regardless of what difficulties he had, "Just walk into a department and ask, or has that been made needlessly complicated too?"
Leila Ragnarok
"Have you even figured out what "no rank" means? Or computer's priority is set on hacking security of some high tech corp?" She tilted head to the side, waiting for answer as Raphael finished reading.
His official story apparently was that he was his own great-great-great-something grandson, who came back from Europe to live in his rightful place. His education was nothing special, normal high-school in England, some special courses for repair-man job, things like that. Nothing he couldn't pull off.
"Maybe I will wear blood red /just/ for you sometime." Despite sarcasm - or maybe even slight threat? -, she still sounded dry and cold. In the neon colored world, Leila felt her gothic clothing was like another set of armor. A mental one. Madame always dressed her as Princess, to herd her away from others, and now she kept the same distance by her own choice.
"As for police, vigilante not enough anymore with working only next to the law? Well, it's as civil as it can be. Thought it has always needed a police academy or something before it? But good luck trying." If he didn't figure the rank thing until his visit to police, Raphael could become a laughingstock or at least have a nice little failure. But maybe not. He rarely did what was expected, after all.
The woman left, on her way to the apartment, stopping by in some cafe to eat. It was long and boring process for her right now, but one she had to do, to keep her self in somewhat of a shape. Leila had already cut down the dosage of drugs some week ago, but it kept getting worse. Maybe because she had done that?
Raphael Emmerich
"Means I've not been crunk on something that makes some alien magic part of my DNA superhuman, right? Dante's webcrawling for general information." state of the world, medicine, wars, valid media references to not act like an alien. "Always wanted to be a cop... Before I ever put a suit on." he answered simply. Having had enough of his false history. "...high school in England? Do I SOUND British?" actually, he sounded like some unattractive amalgamation of a united states hitchhiker... which at the core wasn't far from the truth. "Police academy is simple enough. Make sure you're sane, and go through physical trials. What, think I can't make the grade?" he hiked a brow.
Leila Ragnarok
"Europe's better because you can be dumbwitted about most things happening in world. They are taking things at their own pace. I /did/ tell them Australia would be better, but they don't care." She nonchalantly informed him. Raphael seemed a little annoyed at his background, but did it really matter? As long as he valid citizen, no one gave a damn from where he came. "You can always request new ones."
"And good luck with it. Because, if you said that part about alien magic to someone else, they would call you moron, and in school you would get F with three minuses." After this, Leila had left, leaving him to ponder or discard what she had said.
Raphael Emmerich
So.. Loik, does aye hafe'ta sound loik this?" he... tried a british accent. Horribly. Please, no, never again. "Never did well in school anyway." he grinned casually. Yeah, like failing a g.e.d. Still, he sighed as she drove off, rubbing the back of his head. Dante could webcrawl for the information forever, that didn't mean he had absorbed it right. It was time to get back to the basement, slumping into his rotating seat. The large, cold metal environment felt no more empty than the small hand-built manor above, anymore. At least here there was someone to talk to. Sort of. "Dante... From everything you've gathered... I need the top to bottom, start to finish, of this whole... Genetic voodoo." -sir?- the computer was confused at his wording. "I mean... Tell me from the beginning about people... augmenting themselves." -Ah.- and so, as you're the GM of the setting, it may be safest for you to decide what all is found with several days of tactical surfing, after a few of dante trying to update security. He would probably forever have gaps in security until he found a new techie. No matter how advanced he was a few hundred years ago, he was still learning about changes in their absence. And so... -Chronology of the evolution of man. Starting... After your death I imagine?- "Anything after age 42."
"Mm. Yup." he... Apparently wasn't behind on that. He'd run into a lot of new age hooplah when he started trying to train, and found too many frauds. Of course the body produced a field--even Dante had commented on one of her visits, to Rafe, that his EM field was weakened. But auras, pink because happy, green because healing, he took that about as far as the magic talk in my little ponies. The ride back was quiet. "Yeah. Thanks and... We can kill each other another time." and with that, she was gone and he was sitting on a damaged porch with a beer. Dante was still webcrawling, updating, and finding basic intel about the state of the world. Rafe took a whole hour to himself, staring off and drinking his last bottle. His sleep was more restful than normal, possibly alcohol induced... And he woke on the steps. His next day would be returning to Ivana's after driving seemlessly aimlessly through the city, seeing the changes. Ivana's security barrier was further active than normal, making slip ins difficult; it was no response to Rafe's situation, but rather protecting from a perceived threat in the basement. That would be a mystery for later, though. He made use of the back yard jacuzzi to release tension, the pool to stretch and exercise, and ultimately went back home, gathering spare piping and wires. Next day? heading back with a small bundle and disappearing into the manor, taking several hours and coming back sans pipes and such. Yes, he's back to being a repairman, but he had money for it, albeit only about 100. And that was after she forced a tip on him. It might be noticed that Ivana, Tara and Tyler were staying outside both days, and nights, under a quick-fold tent. No sign of Ash.
Narrator, Leila Ragnarok
Dark room, foul smell. "Safe" corner in which to hide. He is home. He is coming. It gets worse every time. This could be 349th night of Captivity. Or maybe more? Less? After His beatings, it's hard to keep proper count.
Doors crash open, light making a path across the dirty floor.
"Come 'ere, yu little bitch." Shivers, tears. "I SAID: COME 'ERE, BITCH."
More tears, getting up, and trembling steps. Yanked harshly by arm. Wince. The touch is Disgusting. Slap. Head spinning.
"Yuu little bitch, yu no good for anythang!" His breathe reeks. He reeks. Alcohol, vomit, sweat, all the odors of drunk man who hasn't washed for long time.
She has bad feeling about tonight. "Yuu bitch, stubbrn, not do as I say!" He holds her tight, she squirms, tries to not cry. Suddenly He shifts, leans toward her. "Well, whores need'ta be taught early!" He grabs her by hair and drags to the mattress in corner. Throws her onto it.
And starts to unbuckle. She panics. She doesn't know what is about to happen. But she is afraid. Sometimes He has touched her. All over body. Holds her down, no squirming or screaming helps. He just laughs then. He is laughing now, too.
It's dark, she can't see properly. Is He really naked-half naked? She tries to get past him, to the doors. He catches, hits her now, again and again, throws her back down. She whimpers, head bashing against the brick wall.
He drops onto mattress, clumsy, but strong hands tearing her clothes. "No one gonna help ya, whooore! Why resist, eh? Yur mother, whore too, whor'd round till got ya from profitable guy. STOP SQUIRMING, DAMN IT!"
She snarls and hisses, in sudden rage claws at him. And then something happens. The room... it becomes brighter, no, not brighter. It's like fog has lifted, and she sees better than ever. And... Now he screaming. Someone - something - is helping her! He is pulled back, restrained by dark tendrils. Ripped apart, slashed all over. Gutted. And she can see every detail. It's so close, the blood splashes on her. It's warm, sticky.
She doesn't want to see, the joy of being saved turns into horror. But she can't leave, no. It's display just for her. Someone in her mind tells her that. It asks, if mistress is happy now, when final body part - head with gouged out eyes - hits the ground.
She scrambles up, rushes out of the room, slipping and falling few times into all that is now on the floor. The strange darkness follows, it's part of her, SHE is the Monster now...
Leila stared in the darkness, blankly. She had thought... hoped that she had gotten over it. She had managed to keep her cool in the bar, with the drunk people, watched Raphael drink and not flipped out at the scent of alcohol. But dreams revealed the truth. Memories were still there. Each scent, touch, feeling. Groaning softly, the woman buried head in pillow.
Air felt cold on her arms and back, until soft darkness fell over her physically, as a comforting layer. It had taken her so long, so long to accept them, to accept what they - her - had done. But now they were her most dear, loyal companions. Leila sighed softly and then got up. After shower, she avoided looking in mirror, not wanting to envision her self covered in blood, from the dream.
It was afternoon now. Because of night coffee, she had stayed up late, researching and planning. Avoided sleeping, on purpose. But in the end gave in, for few hours. It had been enough. Leila dived full force in her paper work, until Zofie sent her message she was supposed to give Raphael his new identification papers, and instruct him about bank.
Screw them. It could wait. He wasn't in her reach right now anyways. His ex had become more cautious, the shadows had very hard time finding anything out and she couldn't just drop by their doors, too.
Two days after that, however, the vehicle stopped by his house, maybe just before he was about to leave. Leila got out, looking slightly worn down - it was mostly visible in eyes that seemed duller, slightly lacking the angry spite, always boiling in them. "Here." She simply handed him a package. "All papers to make you a proper citizen. Bank card and information on your account, too. You're wealthy again."
Raphael Emmerich
is own memories and dreams were ironically on his would-be restful nights, such as days of menial labor on Ivana's sink rather than training or full blown reconstruction. His were different. The phantasmal feeling of a wife alongside, even when waking. As far as he cared, it had only been a month or so, no more than two, since she was right there with him. He even imagined a bit of the next child they had recently thought of, as Elsie bordered that nervous 40 mark. Nothing ever stuck till morning, though. No matter where he slept it was cold and vacant when he sat up. It all sealed away nicely as he trained himself ill.
Ivana... Was an awkwardness, but his closest to comfort. He learned long ago not to read anything from her incidental advances. She was just 'that way'. Instead there was that... Odd fact that the kids he had considered stepfathering were there, still alive, looking younger than him. Man, even he realized he was an idiot at times. ...wash away. The handstand he'd been performing parallel to a support from the porch, but not touching, lowered him further. Dreams, memories, nothing useful now. Elsie had always hated the Wraith, even if she loved the man. Both the suit and attitude could be frightening. One thought after another vanished. By the time Ragnarok got there, he was in a cross legged and folded arm position, supported by the neck. Yes, he did lean to the wall, but still it couldnt be particularly healthy, could it?
He opened his eyes--crisp blues coldly focused, and unfolded an arm to reach out. There was a noticeable quake of muscles but nothing to show signs of quitting. He flipped the paperwork... While upside down. "Enough to buy back time lost?" of course, it was a cool rhetoric. "I don't need your money, just my life." he bluntly rejected. Well, not like she couldn't just leave it there, as he clearly wanted at least the I.D. "You seem paler than usual."
Leila Ragnarok
Leila understood his bitterness, his spite. The wish to return long lost. When she was a teenager, she spent nights imagining her life how it would be, had not the tragedy.... No, the monstrosity, the massacre, occurred. She would have studied to become a chemist, or even doctor. Probably save, not take lives, with her gifts, whichever path she chose. She would have been happy, not the broken shell of today. Shell that the woman started to believe she would never be able to fill with anything else than hatred, pain, memories and well hidden fear.
"Nothing's more precious than memories of happiness, although they bring bitersweet taste with them. At least you never watched them scream for mercy before their death, you just woke to find them gone, after your past self and them had a good life." It wasn't truly anything personal, no revelation. Leila never heard them scream for mercy. Only thing she knew of that night was scent of burning mansion and flesh. Her parents probably didn't even beg for mercy. Father certainly didn't. Maybe mother asked for her daughters to be spared...
Leila leaned against the wall, staring blankly across. "I would say that you would be more fool than ever to not use what you earn. You go on their missions, you have a house to rebuild. If you don't believe Zofie's cause, you can use them to make your own."
"Have you made a chart of my skin shades?" she asked, in response to his observation, crossing arms under her chest, eyes finally focusing on the man. Dull eyes, as if even the sarcasm brought no flare to her. Leila knew she was paler, the drugs had been taking their toll on her recently. She was losing appetite, too, either because of drugs, or the memories that haunted her so strongly. Oh, December suddenly felt so near and a true Hell she would have to live trough.
Raphael Emmerich
He flipped down and cracked his neck a few times. "No, he just watches what he could have, convincing himself he isn't a copy." ignore the third person narrative. "A few jobs barely make me worthy of 'wealthy'. I'll be making sure I don't find myself indebted to anyone." his house to finish drew a snort. Perhaps a nice funding for an orphanage. Anyone trying to call favors later for fund sourcing would have to explain pulling it from homeless kids. Hopefully empathy wasn't totally lacking these days. But that was a thought long away. "It is the effort, not the simple answer, that gives a house heart and makes it home." that... was apparently not how he was going to spend it. Of course, a crack at the open doors revealed an oddly simplistic but charming style of woodcrafting for the banisters and rails. A few pieces of driftwood nearby baked and dried in the sun, waiting for a few more places in the stairs. It wouldn't be solid flooring, but was light and easy to piece together in trimmings. ...he is an odd and stubborn man. "No, but I should start. I never realized there were so many shades of white."
Leila Ragnarok
She sighed, softly, slightly agitated by Raphael, yet again. He was stubborn and this... honor code of his, he seemed to follow, no matter what. No debts, no deaths, no beating up a woman, blah blah... Strange how she always met people who fell into one end of exaggerating or other. Either they were morally crippled, or shackled by their ideas of justice. The last never really reached their goals.
"You will always be in debt to them, in their opinion. I am not saying, wealth makes you worthy or anything, but if you're inclined to do some good, the money your earn is pretty good beginning for it."
She was silent for a while, staring at the house, and the little she could see trough the cracked door. When the woman spoke, her voice was quieter than before.
"Sometimes I think, would be best for you to pour your feelings and memories in it, make a standing embodiment of it, and then move to someplace else. Leave it behind, honored, unforgotten, but not haunting you every moment. As long as you walk these halls, their laugh will echo."
Then she shrugged, as if dismissing seriousness and feeling of what she had said. "But, oh, they call me crazy and it's your place. However, you should look into shades of white and gray, if you're so interested. Opens lots of possibility for paint colors." The woman smirked slightly.
Leila then straightened up, turning around to go to the vehicle. Yet, she paused, as if she had just remembered something. "I keep thinking, are you really able to go for what you need and want, or will you tangle in nobility ropes and hang your self? I do wonder about that. Hasn't happened for a while." She chuckled then, shaking head softly. "Well, we will see, we will see. Maybe you just need to find it a-new."
Raphael Emmerich
"If it is my life they feel I owe them for... They should come and takt it before I make it my own." he reviewed his documents. Anything new to know about, as he leans there? "...I'll stay, if only because Sheol is beneath it. If I manage to get what I want... Then there'll be enough new noise to not hear echoes. I built myself from the dirt before, I can do it again. Even as a 'no class'." er, rank... But an appropriate slip, no? "...and white is an accent, not a primary. Just enough to make the right features pop. But I guess you work in monochrome. It'd be nice to see you in more color some day." he shrugged, wandering towards his door and hesitating. "Oh, right. I was gonna ask. Are the police like... Civilian, or militarized? Always wanted to take part... Couldn't before. I just don't intend to occupy or supress." and if that was an answer, regardless of what difficulties he had, "Just walk into a department and ask, or has that been made needlessly complicated too?"
Leila Ragnarok
"Have you even figured out what "no rank" means? Or computer's priority is set on hacking security of some high tech corp?" She tilted head to the side, waiting for answer as Raphael finished reading.
His official story apparently was that he was his own great-great-great-something grandson, who came back from Europe to live in his rightful place. His education was nothing special, normal high-school in England, some special courses for repair-man job, things like that. Nothing he couldn't pull off.
"Maybe I will wear blood red /just/ for you sometime." Despite sarcasm - or maybe even slight threat? -, she still sounded dry and cold. In the neon colored world, Leila felt her gothic clothing was like another set of armor. A mental one. Madame always dressed her as Princess, to herd her away from others, and now she kept the same distance by her own choice.
"As for police, vigilante not enough anymore with working only next to the law? Well, it's as civil as it can be. Thought it has always needed a police academy or something before it? But good luck trying." If he didn't figure the rank thing until his visit to police, Raphael could become a laughingstock or at least have a nice little failure. But maybe not. He rarely did what was expected, after all.
The woman left, on her way to the apartment, stopping by in some cafe to eat. It was long and boring process for her right now, but one she had to do, to keep her self in somewhat of a shape. Leila had already cut down the dosage of drugs some week ago, but it kept getting worse. Maybe because she had done that?
Raphael Emmerich
"Means I've not been crunk on something that makes some alien magic part of my DNA superhuman, right? Dante's webcrawling for general information." state of the world, medicine, wars, valid media references to not act like an alien. "Always wanted to be a cop... Before I ever put a suit on." he answered simply. Having had enough of his false history. "...high school in England? Do I SOUND British?" actually, he sounded like some unattractive amalgamation of a united states hitchhiker... which at the core wasn't far from the truth. "Police academy is simple enough. Make sure you're sane, and go through physical trials. What, think I can't make the grade?" he hiked a brow.
Leila Ragnarok
"Europe's better because you can be dumbwitted about most things happening in world. They are taking things at their own pace. I /did/ tell them Australia would be better, but they don't care." She nonchalantly informed him. Raphael seemed a little annoyed at his background, but did it really matter? As long as he valid citizen, no one gave a damn from where he came. "You can always request new ones."
"And good luck with it. Because, if you said that part about alien magic to someone else, they would call you moron, and in school you would get F with three minuses." After this, Leila had left, leaving him to ponder or discard what she had said.
Raphael Emmerich
So.. Loik, does aye hafe'ta sound loik this?" he... tried a british accent. Horribly. Please, no, never again. "Never did well in school anyway." he grinned casually. Yeah, like failing a g.e.d. Still, he sighed as she drove off, rubbing the back of his head. Dante could webcrawl for the information forever, that didn't mean he had absorbed it right. It was time to get back to the basement, slumping into his rotating seat. The large, cold metal environment felt no more empty than the small hand-built manor above, anymore. At least here there was someone to talk to. Sort of. "Dante... From everything you've gathered... I need the top to bottom, start to finish, of this whole... Genetic voodoo." -sir?- the computer was confused at his wording. "I mean... Tell me from the beginning about people... augmenting themselves." -Ah.- and so, as you're the GM of the setting, it may be safest for you to decide what all is found with several days of tactical surfing, after a few of dante trying to update security. He would probably forever have gaps in security until he found a new techie. No matter how advanced he was a few hundred years ago, he was still learning about changes in their absence. And so... -Chronology of the evolution of man. Starting... After your death I imagine?- "Anything after age 42."
Narrator
The information... It seemed to have more holes, blind spots and conflicts, than anything of value. However, it held the information detailed high-schooler history book would hold. Only maybe given from more disagreeing sources, one praising, another belittling the events. Most of it was seemingly neutral, though.
The first events occurred well past his memory life-time. It was 2047th year when scientists, supposedly accidentally, discovered that humans not only use only about 5% of their brain power, but most never use even more potential, written in their DNA. However, it was not immediately announced to world. Only about 10 years after the second breakout, in year 2083rd, it became known to the general public.
The reaction ranged from outrage to cheers, from fear to belief ultimate key to happiness has been found. As this turn in world's history was brought forth by USA, Mexico and Canada's scientists, other countries even dismissed it as bluff. Despite various small conflicts, especially after it turned out Russia was on the same level of new gene engineering path, if not a step ahead, no new wars broke out.
Countries were forced to accept the new, altered reality when many high positioned, powerful people admitted to come from families which cultivated unusual abilities for generations. They were rich, strong and on top of the things. They became the 1st rank. It is not a rank that flourishes in numbers, despite accepting some of the more-unfortunate families who possessed abilities before discovery of medicine (if they were able to prove it). However, they are looked down upon.
Religions all around the world reacted differently, but in the end, any negative responses were quieted, for the sake of faith's survival. Especially because by the first public announcement, there were already plenty of people possessing most unusual skills and abilities. Some were the living experiment objects, others were the scientists them selves, and corporation heads who had funded the project. And of course, high rank military men. That is the beginning of the 2nd rank, which were made to bend their knees in front of 1st rank.
General presentation of the event was positive, as something that would make life better for everyone. People with powers were called Recovered or Changed Ones, the first title implying that humans had finally gained back that was rightfully theirs, as the best beings of the world.
Still, due to various protests, many conflicts with people, especially in USA who delivered rather drastic changes to its inhabitants around 2100th, many bans were put on the "Recovery medicine's" development. The laws became even more tight after people began stealing and reproducing the equipment and medicine, to sell in narrow back-street shops. During this phase, most people attempting to be "recovered" died, or morphed into something only vaguely human.
Those rich enough to be able to afford trough go official Recovering, joined the 2nd rank at this point. As time progressed, anyone below them was more and more suppressed. Some revolted, but were quickly silenced. After all, no one of importance worked high enough to cause a serious problem. However, work on medicine was restarted and in few year's time, common people were allowed to apply for Recovering. It was costly, but more affordable to the middle class. People took credits, went bankrupt just to get money to recover them selves and their families. Government closely followed the process during the first years, limiting the amount of people. The ones Recovered in this period became the 3rd rank.
For some of the 3rd ranks, life was rather awkward because they were suddenly better situated, but had literally nothing, so despite being 3rd rank, they were "street rats" for some time, until they scrambled out of the gutter or... gave up. Later in the 3rd rank phase, special centers were created to help people who ended up with nothing after Recovering. Most of them were run by Catholic Church. In this messy time, it found a way to bring faith back to people's hearts and gather new people to it.
The most progress on Recovering was USA. Old world changed slower and the distinction between ranks did not form so strongly, at least not at the very beginning. In USA however, soon anyone that did not belong to 3 official ranks was put down. The wages dropped, many people became unemployed and in this crisis, everyone struggled to become one of the Recovered ones, to fit in. Eventually, situation stabilized and from year 2230th onwards, anyone Recovered became 4th rank. Life for them is not sweet, they are considered only somewhat better than humans, but they have better chance at getting job and home.
Church blossoms now, albeit warily. It has large amount of people following, of many kinds. Humans, 3rd ranks, 4th ranks, Empty Ones and Monsters, and even some more religious 1st and 2nd ranks. At this point, Raphael could wonder what were Empty Ones and Monsters, but brief article offered an explanation. It turned out that not every human carried this part of DNA, responsible for "super powers". The ones who do not are then called Empty Ones. If born in family with powers, they are considered disgrace and mostly sent to live and even educate in monasteries. Some families have generation long line of being Empty and normally, only humans would marry with them. No self-respecting person of a rank would fall so low.
Monsters, however... Any article on them was either obviously avoiding to give clear information, or was speculating, guessing. Apparently, some people during Recovery are "messed up", the medicine altering them completely. It is painful, hard process with high fatality chance. The outcomes are unpredictable. It could be a spider monster, lizard man, something goo-like and maybe shapeshifting, or anything else, even most disfunctional beings (however, most of these could not breed). There were more common types, however, such as what people would recognize as "vampires", "werewolves", "sirens" and others.
These new beings often posess more power than various Recovereds combined, as their powers are not limited to just 1 or 2 (in rare cases), but they often come with a "package" of them. For that, they are feared and it's rumored they form their own rank, possibly more influental than the 1st one. That's why some went trough disfunctional Recovering, just in hopes to become a powerful Monster.
It is known that some of the people with powers before Recovery medicine are in fact Monsters. They then are called Ancient Monsters. If Raphael would think, he would probaly figure that Ivana, her husband and their children belonged to this "rank", if it was indeed official.
There were further articles on vampires, werewolves and some other. Apparently, they were alike the myths - stronger, faster, heal quicker, but with no allergy to anything God-related. Well known quirks of being unable to stand sunlight or silver are not necesery as well. Some are able to morph into disfigured creatures of bats and wolves. Unlike many monsters, they can have children, for their DNA is more human like. The Monster genes are most likely to inherit, but there are no reports of a woman-werewolf. Werewolf factor usually comes around only around 18 years of age. Or so said the information. How reliable it was, could not be known.
But back to situation of the world. The rank system is deeply set in the country now. The higher the rank, the more ability strength person usually has. The genes seem to develop certain strength, affinity trough inheriting and time, becoming more powerful over the generations. That is why only 1st and 2nd rank have some people with 2 abilites at once. And if stronger lineage mixed with lower rank, the one longest existing is most likely be handed down to the offspring. Rank wise, however, ranks are given after father's. Most likely the reason why first two ranks looked down onto mixed marriages, fearing that their count would lessen if daughters married unworthy partners, and the family line could cease to exist.
This fact has set a deeper break between the ranks, and pushed humans even further away, where they have become a worthless work force. There is unrest among the people, and newspaper titles tell how government and idols work to bring better life to everyone. There are ads for Recovering many places now, even Internet, although it long since is not a key to better life. And most of the offers are still illegal. Any Recovered is supposedly happy and proud of being one, their faces smile from everywhere.
At the end, Dante also offered him a small information about how all powers had their "bad sides", such as if one was gifted with immortality, it would be allied with either defiance against age, or this person would never die from injuries (possible reasons: unbreakable body, amazing healing ability). The exceptions were Monsters, of course. It also noted that all powers had to be trained to reach their top performance and many of the most powerful ones were like double-edged blades, cutting down both the foe and its user. In another note, Raphael found that compared to the count of all the people on world, 1st and 2nd rank was awfully small number, although they were still formidable, when their by far superior abilities were kept in mind.
When Raphael finished reading, if he was careful, it was most likely morning, unless he decided to do it in parts. And still, it felt like only the tip of the iceberg, as if so much more was hidden behind this.
Raphael Emmerich
Rafe doesn't need to READ, reading is for suckers! ...he just has his robo computer narrate the details for him while he experimented around the lair. He found that, vaccuum packed or not, 200 year old coffee tastes like shit, and that cockroaches somehow can invade nuclear shelters after that long, and... that the world truly was a messed up place. "Rather be empty than arrogant." he grumbled from the pot. Dante didn't pause for master having to go to the bathroom. "Great. So it's back to being a street urchin, or blowing off my humanity." he folded his arms. -sir?- "I'll go for 'coincidentally rich street urchin'." the computer beeped. Perhaps its idea of laughter. -As to be expected. I take it that when i am functionally secure I should use this data for keywords and further searching?- "...yeeeap. And maybe try to dig at who started this. Reminds me of some Lode Corp hoo-ha." -myes. speaking of lode corp, I've found the most interesting bit of data. One... Stacey may still be alive?- an image pulled forward--only perhaps five years older than she once looked, but elsewise a china-fair cougar-aged woman with black hair. "Her heritage would indicate that she is a descendant, but Stacey Muriel--hah, that is new.- rafe just about sprayed his coffee all over dante's panels. Horrible or not it had kept him awake. "...so, the walking homoqueer married my secretary?" the data indicated the new woman as a greatgreat descendant, much like Rafe's own bogus story. -superficially, at least. Shall I contact her?- "...no. Not yet. Try to find out why she's alive. If it's actually her."
Leila Ragnarok
Retelling did not make the process much shorter, however. While Raphael learned about the true, rather wrecked state of the world, Leila went off on her own little research. The woman had long since learned that knowledge was power, and the one who would trigger all other powers into the right direction. However, some knowledge came more slowly than the rest... Like the one she needed the most.
Leila had been a good employee (albeit sarcastic) for now nearly three years to Zofie Corporations. And in this time, she still had not reached her goal. She reassured her self it would be soon, though. While the blade hung over her, as her employers dug further trying to find truth about /her/, step by step she cleared the fog around them one by one, uncovering their lives and their identities.
Zofie Corporation was not as old as sometimes portrayed. Not in its current shape, at least. It had changed names and owners many times before raising to what it was. In fact, it had changed owners a lot even after that. But for last five generations, it finally seemed to be on the "right track". If Leila's suspicion was right however, the man on top of this food chain, was actually the same for long, long time. First it was handy to disappear, due to "impossibility" of immortality, and later, it became a great cover.
There was nearly no traces of him, anywhere, at any point in time. But she was finally getting closer to this man. It was important to not rush now, but be cautious... If patience and calmness had not been beaten into her, to the very bone, she would be hasty, though. Leila wanted to relieve world of his presence, the sooner the better. No set of powers would protect this monster, by heart, from her revenge.
She also looked further into the information about Raphael, finally obtained the full information on his suit(s) and did some research on Ash. Her spies never left the bunk of her partner, but it was hardly importantly spent time, except for this mention of Stacey Muriel, whoever she was.
Leila didn't sleep that night, but spent it in meditation and training until anxiety left her body and mind, cold determination and certain... emptiness taking its place. The mirror showed that Raphael had been right about her being awfully pale and she covered the dark rings under eyes with soft powder, thankfully unnoticeable. She was not fan of makeup, but for disguises and hiding what the woman didn't want to show, it was perfect.
Called in by Zachary Schorr, she was given another mission. In fact, it was double mission. One for them together, another solely for her. Raphael didn't need to know anything about the second one, though, since it fell into her usual profiles - assassination.
Leila landed in Raphael's yard, looking around for the man. She just needed to give him a briefing of tomorrow's event and let him prepare for tomorrow, take shopping if needed. She guessed he could just say no, and she would even prefer it. Going to a ball of the rich and powerful with him (and bunch of other Zofies) seemed like a bad plan. But Zachary insisted he was needed to back her up, during the action plan part.
The information... It seemed to have more holes, blind spots and conflicts, than anything of value. However, it held the information detailed high-schooler history book would hold. Only maybe given from more disagreeing sources, one praising, another belittling the events. Most of it was seemingly neutral, though.
The first events occurred well past his memory life-time. It was 2047th year when scientists, supposedly accidentally, discovered that humans not only use only about 5% of their brain power, but most never use even more potential, written in their DNA. However, it was not immediately announced to world. Only about 10 years after the second breakout, in year 2083rd, it became known to the general public.
The reaction ranged from outrage to cheers, from fear to belief ultimate key to happiness has been found. As this turn in world's history was brought forth by USA, Mexico and Canada's scientists, other countries even dismissed it as bluff. Despite various small conflicts, especially after it turned out Russia was on the same level of new gene engineering path, if not a step ahead, no new wars broke out.
Countries were forced to accept the new, altered reality when many high positioned, powerful people admitted to come from families which cultivated unusual abilities for generations. They were rich, strong and on top of the things. They became the 1st rank. It is not a rank that flourishes in numbers, despite accepting some of the more-unfortunate families who possessed abilities before discovery of medicine (if they were able to prove it). However, they are looked down upon.
Religions all around the world reacted differently, but in the end, any negative responses were quieted, for the sake of faith's survival. Especially because by the first public announcement, there were already plenty of people possessing most unusual skills and abilities. Some were the living experiment objects, others were the scientists them selves, and corporation heads who had funded the project. And of course, high rank military men. That is the beginning of the 2nd rank, which were made to bend their knees in front of 1st rank.
General presentation of the event was positive, as something that would make life better for everyone. People with powers were called Recovered or Changed Ones, the first title implying that humans had finally gained back that was rightfully theirs, as the best beings of the world.
Still, due to various protests, many conflicts with people, especially in USA who delivered rather drastic changes to its inhabitants around 2100th, many bans were put on the "Recovery medicine's" development. The laws became even more tight after people began stealing and reproducing the equipment and medicine, to sell in narrow back-street shops. During this phase, most people attempting to be "recovered" died, or morphed into something only vaguely human.
Those rich enough to be able to afford trough go official Recovering, joined the 2nd rank at this point. As time progressed, anyone below them was more and more suppressed. Some revolted, but were quickly silenced. After all, no one of importance worked high enough to cause a serious problem. However, work on medicine was restarted and in few year's time, common people were allowed to apply for Recovering. It was costly, but more affordable to the middle class. People took credits, went bankrupt just to get money to recover them selves and their families. Government closely followed the process during the first years, limiting the amount of people. The ones Recovered in this period became the 3rd rank.
For some of the 3rd ranks, life was rather awkward because they were suddenly better situated, but had literally nothing, so despite being 3rd rank, they were "street rats" for some time, until they scrambled out of the gutter or... gave up. Later in the 3rd rank phase, special centers were created to help people who ended up with nothing after Recovering. Most of them were run by Catholic Church. In this messy time, it found a way to bring faith back to people's hearts and gather new people to it.
The most progress on Recovering was USA. Old world changed slower and the distinction between ranks did not form so strongly, at least not at the very beginning. In USA however, soon anyone that did not belong to 3 official ranks was put down. The wages dropped, many people became unemployed and in this crisis, everyone struggled to become one of the Recovered ones, to fit in. Eventually, situation stabilized and from year 2230th onwards, anyone Recovered became 4th rank. Life for them is not sweet, they are considered only somewhat better than humans, but they have better chance at getting job and home.
Church blossoms now, albeit warily. It has large amount of people following, of many kinds. Humans, 3rd ranks, 4th ranks, Empty Ones and Monsters, and even some more religious 1st and 2nd ranks. At this point, Raphael could wonder what were Empty Ones and Monsters, but brief article offered an explanation. It turned out that not every human carried this part of DNA, responsible for "super powers". The ones who do not are then called Empty Ones. If born in family with powers, they are considered disgrace and mostly sent to live and even educate in monasteries. Some families have generation long line of being Empty and normally, only humans would marry with them. No self-respecting person of a rank would fall so low.
Monsters, however... Any article on them was either obviously avoiding to give clear information, or was speculating, guessing. Apparently, some people during Recovery are "messed up", the medicine altering them completely. It is painful, hard process with high fatality chance. The outcomes are unpredictable. It could be a spider monster, lizard man, something goo-like and maybe shapeshifting, or anything else, even most disfunctional beings (however, most of these could not breed). There were more common types, however, such as what people would recognize as "vampires", "werewolves", "sirens" and others.
These new beings often posess more power than various Recovereds combined, as their powers are not limited to just 1 or 2 (in rare cases), but they often come with a "package" of them. For that, they are feared and it's rumored they form their own rank, possibly more influental than the 1st one. That's why some went trough disfunctional Recovering, just in hopes to become a powerful Monster.
It is known that some of the people with powers before Recovery medicine are in fact Monsters. They then are called Ancient Monsters. If Raphael would think, he would probaly figure that Ivana, her husband and their children belonged to this "rank", if it was indeed official.
There were further articles on vampires, werewolves and some other. Apparently, they were alike the myths - stronger, faster, heal quicker, but with no allergy to anything God-related. Well known quirks of being unable to stand sunlight or silver are not necesery as well. Some are able to morph into disfigured creatures of bats and wolves. Unlike many monsters, they can have children, for their DNA is more human like. The Monster genes are most likely to inherit, but there are no reports of a woman-werewolf. Werewolf factor usually comes around only around 18 years of age. Or so said the information. How reliable it was, could not be known.
But back to situation of the world. The rank system is deeply set in the country now. The higher the rank, the more ability strength person usually has. The genes seem to develop certain strength, affinity trough inheriting and time, becoming more powerful over the generations. That is why only 1st and 2nd rank have some people with 2 abilites at once. And if stronger lineage mixed with lower rank, the one longest existing is most likely be handed down to the offspring. Rank wise, however, ranks are given after father's. Most likely the reason why first two ranks looked down onto mixed marriages, fearing that their count would lessen if daughters married unworthy partners, and the family line could cease to exist.
This fact has set a deeper break between the ranks, and pushed humans even further away, where they have become a worthless work force. There is unrest among the people, and newspaper titles tell how government and idols work to bring better life to everyone. There are ads for Recovering many places now, even Internet, although it long since is not a key to better life. And most of the offers are still illegal. Any Recovered is supposedly happy and proud of being one, their faces smile from everywhere.
At the end, Dante also offered him a small information about how all powers had their "bad sides", such as if one was gifted with immortality, it would be allied with either defiance against age, or this person would never die from injuries (possible reasons: unbreakable body, amazing healing ability). The exceptions were Monsters, of course. It also noted that all powers had to be trained to reach their top performance and many of the most powerful ones were like double-edged blades, cutting down both the foe and its user. In another note, Raphael found that compared to the count of all the people on world, 1st and 2nd rank was awfully small number, although they were still formidable, when their by far superior abilities were kept in mind.
When Raphael finished reading, if he was careful, it was most likely morning, unless he decided to do it in parts. And still, it felt like only the tip of the iceberg, as if so much more was hidden behind this.
Raphael Emmerich
Rafe doesn't need to READ, reading is for suckers! ...he just has his robo computer narrate the details for him while he experimented around the lair. He found that, vaccuum packed or not, 200 year old coffee tastes like shit, and that cockroaches somehow can invade nuclear shelters after that long, and... that the world truly was a messed up place. "Rather be empty than arrogant." he grumbled from the pot. Dante didn't pause for master having to go to the bathroom. "Great. So it's back to being a street urchin, or blowing off my humanity." he folded his arms. -sir?- "I'll go for 'coincidentally rich street urchin'." the computer beeped. Perhaps its idea of laughter. -As to be expected. I take it that when i am functionally secure I should use this data for keywords and further searching?- "...yeeeap. And maybe try to dig at who started this. Reminds me of some Lode Corp hoo-ha." -myes. speaking of lode corp, I've found the most interesting bit of data. One... Stacey may still be alive?- an image pulled forward--only perhaps five years older than she once looked, but elsewise a china-fair cougar-aged woman with black hair. "Her heritage would indicate that she is a descendant, but Stacey Muriel--hah, that is new.- rafe just about sprayed his coffee all over dante's panels. Horrible or not it had kept him awake. "...so, the walking homoqueer married my secretary?" the data indicated the new woman as a greatgreat descendant, much like Rafe's own bogus story. -superficially, at least. Shall I contact her?- "...no. Not yet. Try to find out why she's alive. If it's actually her."
Leila Ragnarok
Retelling did not make the process much shorter, however. While Raphael learned about the true, rather wrecked state of the world, Leila went off on her own little research. The woman had long since learned that knowledge was power, and the one who would trigger all other powers into the right direction. However, some knowledge came more slowly than the rest... Like the one she needed the most.
Leila had been a good employee (albeit sarcastic) for now nearly three years to Zofie Corporations. And in this time, she still had not reached her goal. She reassured her self it would be soon, though. While the blade hung over her, as her employers dug further trying to find truth about /her/, step by step she cleared the fog around them one by one, uncovering their lives and their identities.
Zofie Corporation was not as old as sometimes portrayed. Not in its current shape, at least. It had changed names and owners many times before raising to what it was. In fact, it had changed owners a lot even after that. But for last five generations, it finally seemed to be on the "right track". If Leila's suspicion was right however, the man on top of this food chain, was actually the same for long, long time. First it was handy to disappear, due to "impossibility" of immortality, and later, it became a great cover.
There was nearly no traces of him, anywhere, at any point in time. But she was finally getting closer to this man. It was important to not rush now, but be cautious... If patience and calmness had not been beaten into her, to the very bone, she would be hasty, though. Leila wanted to relieve world of his presence, the sooner the better. No set of powers would protect this monster, by heart, from her revenge.
She also looked further into the information about Raphael, finally obtained the full information on his suit(s) and did some research on Ash. Her spies never left the bunk of her partner, but it was hardly importantly spent time, except for this mention of Stacey Muriel, whoever she was.
Leila didn't sleep that night, but spent it in meditation and training until anxiety left her body and mind, cold determination and certain... emptiness taking its place. The mirror showed that Raphael had been right about her being awfully pale and she covered the dark rings under eyes with soft powder, thankfully unnoticeable. She was not fan of makeup, but for disguises and hiding what the woman didn't want to show, it was perfect.
Called in by Zachary Schorr, she was given another mission. In fact, it was double mission. One for them together, another solely for her. Raphael didn't need to know anything about the second one, though, since it fell into her usual profiles - assassination.
Leila landed in Raphael's yard, looking around for the man. She just needed to give him a briefing of tomorrow's event and let him prepare for tomorrow, take shopping if needed. She guessed he could just say no, and she would even prefer it. Going to a ball of the rich and powerful with him (and bunch of other Zofies) seemed like a bad plan. But Zachary insisted he was needed to back her up, during the action plan part.
Narrator, Raphael Emmerich
Rafe had several suits; a few never saw action and were on intense lockdown, one recorded as "nemesis". Its features were far too destructive for his style, and weren't even pulled out during 'Ragnarok', instead weilded by Lode. His others were simple: one was bulletproof, even resisting his own turrets during an accident, and highly absorbent to most physical damage (the high cal rapid rounds still broke his ribs from the impacts, however). It was made of a curious hypercompressed metal, and unless full LAI data was uncovered the wing structure remained a mystery, as some microfiber woven of unidentified metal. The helmet had filtration, was water proof, and heat resistant up to 1000 degrees if the suit was in optimal condition. It had night, infrared, uv and other systems and was capable of projecting multiple screens, controlled by voice or blink. As she knew it had internal radio capabilities and, when fully functional, could route through 'level nine' multiple ways to commune with dante. The suit's Hands were built to attach accessories, including velcro, magnets, tools, and anything else a hands-on kind of man would use. Chambers in the arms held pikes for launching below, and containers of knock out gas above to work through the palm, which could also attach a taser system. The back plating was the weakness of the suit, which had almost had Necoc Yaotl Rudianos (enemy of both sides, the red war god) slay him during ragnarok by piercing opportunistically between the plating that allowed movement. This was the first discovery of his 'continued animation', as the suit also capable of reading biorhythms detected he was medically dead. The suit multiplied his weight drastically, but took some time to apply. His other was instantaneous, sponsored by lode corp instead of lai and running on nanotechnology. It ocmbusted most clothing and burnt weak flesh upon launch, and was concealed as bands on the hand with a trigger sequence. Perhaps she remembered him asking dante where he last put it, codename: dragon, and the extended launch sequence. the suit was lighter weight, lacked certain chemical traits but recreated the simpler hand tools and effectively made a minimalistic version anywhere. It lacked the plating weakness, but wasnt as impervious to high caliber rounds, capable of deflecting most hand guns, semi automatics, and low power rifles. As for where the man was, expect to have to go in through his door, left open. His stairs had been finished with the same dream-house appeal he first envisioned it with, twining from the den to the upstairs, which were both shoddy. The carpet had been torn up for him to rework the floor underneath, which he was likely doing whenever she spotted him. Actually, he was already standing and wiping his brow off, as the bay window of the den gave view of the car he heard pulling up. Yeah, rafe, at a ball. The sweaty, sawdust-and-finish smelling man there. "Sup now?" whenever she came by, it meant business.
Leila Ragnarok
The vehicle's doors slid shut and she got out, heading for the building. Leila paused briefly, taking in the changes done on its outside and inside. When he greeted her, she came in, careful to not step on something extra slippery or broken, not wanting to fall disgracefully.
"Mr. Emmerich, you are cordially invited to the Grand Ball hosted by famous Renov Corporation, held at their HQ tomorrow's night 9 pm." She said it in perfect English accent, in mockery to his awful attempt last time. "If you chose to accept it, I shall inform you on further details about the mission. Upon refusal, you shall bring dismay to the whole Zofie Corporation team."
"Oh, and also, if you don't have fitting outfit, I am to take you shopping, or something along those lines." Back to normal speaking, in extremely bored manner. Apparently, despite being a girl who seemed to spend awfully much time working on her image (all the lacy, fancy dresses and jewelry suggested that), Leila did not like cloth shopping /too/ much.
Raphael Emmerich
"A... Ball?" he stared blankly. "Like... A dancing ball?" no, one that fucking bounces, Rafe. He stared, waiting for the punchline. None came. "Um... I don't really have anything to wear and... what's dressy fashion like now, anyway? I'm kinda... still in the late 90s." he admitted. Yeah, like 1990's.
Leila Ragnarok
"You can avoid dancing, so some lady from fancy corporation doesn't punch you for stomping her foot off. So, don't worry about that." She smirked slightly, at his somewhat startled look. A bit like deer in headlights. It was a bit surprising he didn't just say "no" and get over with it. Oh well, another hope washed down the drain. But maybe it wasn't too late?
"It's... not that bad. You can get some nano-fabric suit from high class brand and still look reasonable. I am sure there will be shopping assistants or whatever to help you out." The woman looked him up and down and then shook her head. "I refuse to transport you in this state anywhere, though." Seriously, it would be pain already.
Raphael Emmerich
"Oh... Um..." he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly... and immediately regreted it. A minor ripping sound followed as a sticky liquid on his fingers had glued a few strands of hair to his hand. ...oddly he didn't flinch, just stared oddly. "I'll... Uh... I'll go take a shower." work was work. He might not take absorbent amounts of money for it, but if he had means to pay dues, Emmerich did it. He stopped on his way to the elevator. "Got some basic shopping done, by the way... So check the fridge out if you want, or something." married life had straightened Rafe out a good deal, but bachelor Rafe was a bit of a mess. What few dishes he had were in the sink. Drinks came in jug or can form only. His idea of basics were eggs, cheese, bread and a few things to throw between them. Microwave dinners had always been a thing but he was nervous about the modern equivalent. ...by the looks of it he actually hadn't eaten much of anything since... ever. Without a wifey there, as she had been for many years as a home maker, he forgot to feed himself. Or maybe... He just didn't care enough to bother. She had ample time to do as she liked as he descended and took a power shower below. The place still wasn't much to look at save for the few mentioned areas. He insisted on doing it himself, no extra crews. It had taken him over a year the first time, so there was little reason for this to be different. But something like thirty minutes later he was emerging, toweling off his hair still, which... By then was out of control. Not terribly long, but never shaped and falling in the eyes. At least he had thought to shave off his impending chin-shadow.
Leila Ragnarok, Narrator
She wasn't going to eat, not feeling hungry, but in casual manner, Leila checked out his food reserves and found them more than lacking. Mental sigh. She had thought he had figured that pizza and take-homes still existed, but apparently not. Well, one more thing to mock him about eventually. Seriously, how did that mass of a man manage to sustain him self and keep on leading an active life. Mental training or not, this seemed a bit absurd. Leila wondered if Raphael was malfunctioning because he /missed/ his wife, or he missed her because he failed at living normally without someone to take care of him.
The young woman sat down and stared at the wall, then, waiting for him to come back. She glanced at him, considering taking Raphael to some salon to have his hair cut, among other things. She would mention it, when they would be on their way back.
Leila didn't speak, except informing to take his Zofie ID to show in shop, until they both eventually got in the car. She turned on some music, which sounded far more aggressive than anything she had listened when he was around, although it was played rather quietly - he wouldn't have to worry about his ears. The drive took a while, but then they reached the shopping center. More like a sky scraper that had everything, from hotel, to gym and various malls and other "necessities".
It was crowded and although she didn't let him get lost, Leila walked onward quickly, weaving her way between the people as if it was nothing. Her face, however, showed faint distaste. Secretly, this person hated large crowds, all these squished people, pushing, bumping, making noise, running around from one shop to another for the best of deals, the stupid laughter the girls made... And basically every feature of shopping malls and crowds.
"There we go." They had reached a more quiet corner of the third floor of the shopping mall. Apparently, few hundred years didn't change it that men weren't the biggest shopping maniacs, although there were bunch of rich and fancy looking people around, "swimming" from one shop to another. They chose a chain of shops under some foreign name, that had various type shops under its "wing", so there wouldn't be running from one shop to another.
"Dress him for a high class ball, from head to toe, with the best you have," she casually told the man behind the counter, who was staring at them. The frail, fair woman with the dark, laced clothing together with the large, worker-type man indeed made a strange pair, the latter one obviously not fitting in. Leaving Raphael in the hands of professional, she exited the shop, to return a hour later, when the torture would be finished. Apparently, the ID was enough to create no doubts there would be pay.
As Raphael learned trough the process, the trends had hardly changed. Mostly only tie patterns, but most transformations had happened to the fabrics. Now, the suits, and even more expensive shirts, adapted to their wearer for the best look, even adjusted their temperature within certain set frames, so the wearer would always feel good. Some were able to change colors. In the end, the man got Raphael look... well, not so much as a country bumpkin in the big city. It is not cloth, but attitude and way one carries him self that makes a high class man, but at least the cloth part would not fail him.
If he wanted, he could probably grab some jeans, sneakers and casual clothes along the way, too, before Leila returned.
Raphael Emmerich
His lack of self care was a little of column A and B, with a mix of the fact that... Without incentive, Rafe had been a sloppy bachelor. After training, for focus' sake he wouldn't let his house become a sty again, but... Well, a few protein shakes and things to generally build were all he cared about. Crack a drink or a raw egg (and make use of futuristic toilets!) and all was well enough. Of course, it might account for trace lines under his eyes indicating malnourishment, but he was still alive and functioning, for what that was worth. "Oh, right. ID." he jogged to another room and returned with it. Hopefully he hadn't forgotten anything else important, like his brain. Rafe wasn't one of those guys who indulged in shopping. However, he did stare around mystified at the population, the changes in technology, and culture. He hadn't bothered going anywhere that congested yet. He followed blindly, bumping a few passers-by while rubbernecking and having to catch up to her.
In the store, he tossed the poor clerk an awkward smile and wave. Yes! Update him. Leila was leaving and he threw out a "woah woah woah" as the closest thing to a mental safety net walked out, but that probably didn't stop her. Well... Okay. He had a vague sense of this style of fashion. He had to dress up for some meetings when he temporarily headed LAI during John's break, even if he spent them tipped back in a chair balancing a pen on his nose. Hopefully technology had made the tie-tying part easier. If not he cursed life. Rafe didn't often deal in fancy clothes. For so long they seemed unreachable to him that by the time they made it, it was pointless. Still, he could spot a snazzy suit when he saw one. Simple black, moderately casual, reigned in by the tie that was figured out one way or another. Leila might be surprised that he cleaned up nicely. At least, that's what Azucena had told him. A set of matching gloves were found to replace his biker wear, and he insisted on sunglasses, even if they were far from prim. By the time she came, they were flipped up to sit on top of his head. She might notice traces of casuality--an untucked shirt beneath it, for example--but for the most part he seemed mostly civilized. He hadn't grabbed spares. In casual situations, his clothes suited him well enough for all he cared. He was the type to be fond of a hole earned in a certain pair of underwear. But now, he grinned at her with the same awkward expression he had given the clerk before. "Well?"
Leila Ragnarok
She gave him an approving nod, after inspecting his looks from top to bottom. "Well, finally you look somewhat smart at least in some aspect." More of a praise than insult, in this case. It wasn't said as coldly as a word attack would be.
Apparently, he wasn't a complete failure and Leila could bet the assistant hadn't helped out that much, in the end. Maybe only guided from one isle to another.
She paid with credit card casually, maybe Raphael noticed there was no name on it as he was used to, only a logo, which the man could recognize as Zofie's, and the number. If it wouldn't be purchase for him, Leila would never use credit card. She paid only in clear cash, taken out in small sums from accounts in various places. Most of them even Zofie didn't know about. The woman was careful to leave as little electric footprints as possible. Her sneaking around databases of all calibers were dangerous enough. The less information out in the web about who did it, the better. And with higher security, the abilities of tracing had also grown over the centuries.
When all was packed, and they got out of the shop, she paused. "Want to go to barber or going for the "careless stud" look, or whatever they call it in fashion magazines?" Her expression became a little bit disdained at this.
Leila apparently had stopped at a shop or two, having a small shopping bag, but it was from brown paper, no logos or anything that could give away its contents.
Raphael Emmerich
"Careless... stud?" He looked up at his own bangs... indicator enough they needed a trim.
"Oh. Els alwas gets this sad look when I trim it short." Go figure. The wifey enjoyed tossed hair and scruff. Regardless, he belatedly looked taken down a few pegs. "Got." He corrected his tense appropriately to the past.
"I ain't a total bum." He spoke all elegantly and stuff. "As a kid I hit the clubs all the time." He muttered. Of course, his idea of being a kid was only a few years younger than he looked then.
"I... guess I could go for a cut. Just don't buzz me."
Leila Ragnarok
Leila actually did not have anything against long hair on a man. But then it had to be thick and shoulder, or shoulder-blades length, or else it looked laughable. Not that she paid much attention to such details, or male appearances in general. Once, she had been in love, yes... But it was the deceiving safety, the feeling that there was someone to trust, someone who would support her, that had made him so precious to her, not his looks.
At his club commentary, the young woman rolled her eyes. She went clubbing only when it was part of the mission, or she needed some information. But if she said that, Raphael would probably be just as surprised as when she told she didn't drink. And chattering wasn't in her to-do list.
"Fine then," she quickly replied and in decisive manner, moved to the right. However, it took a bit of wandering for her to find the barber shop. There, Leila left him again, leaving the decision of hairstyle up to her "partner" and his barber. Last thing she wanted to do was to be seen sitting in barber shop, reading a fashion magazine and waiting for him, as if she was indeed some nanny.
Raphael Emmerich
Well, his order to them was simple. Just... trim it a never bit. Rafe was never sure why, but he never got a real cut. It was probably a good deal of why it always managed to grow back into a mess so quickly, but at least it would serve for the night. Once shortened, with a bit of gel his hair held minor spikes nicely, sweeping back comfortably as needed. The simplicity of it kept it from taking long, and soon he was alongside again. "All right. So.... a ball... why?" He still wasn't clear on it. Order a worker ant to do something and it tends to mindlessly go on its task without ever pondering the reason. What little he'd been told was still enough to leave him confused. "I'm not going to get graded on my waltz, or something now, am I? I already told you I'm no good there."
Leila Ragnarok
She groaned softly at his questions.
"Not here." Did he have any idea that there were some topics off the public discussion? There was very little chance someone would be eavesdropping right now, but it existed. And how many great people had failed because they had not paid attention to things like these? Plenty enough.
When they were in the relative security of her vehicle, she leaned back slightly, shutting eyes briefly. A bit more and vein on her temples would be pulsing - the headache had come out about hour ago and got gradually stronger and stronger. Three deep breathes and she was back in line, the car taking off in the usual gut wrenching manner.
"You're probably being tested for social uses, but I don't think dancing means much. Mission is to swap some of their chips with ours, so some "potentially highly dangerous weapon" doesn't fall in the wrong hands. The security will be high, but it's a great path right in the heart of their Corporation, few floors above the target."
The woman paused, thinking over the other details. "You are supposed to stay in the central room, as decoy and backup. I carry out the business. Anything else? I am not good at briefing up for others."
Raphael Emmerich
"You okay?" He hiked a brow at her. She looked like she had a headache--probably because she did. "...Social uses?" He seemed boggled. "I'm like a fish out of water in high-toned and fancy to-dos."
"Highly dangerous weapon. Great. And what makes Zofie the right hands?" Hopefully he'd learn to shut his mouth about it, but as she was a partner he was treating her as such. Questioning his superiors was eventually going to be considered out of line.
"...Right. So I'm bait. Or a herring. Or something. I think I've got it. 'Long as I can find you if I have to take up on the 'backup' part."
Pause.
"...They'll have food there, right?"
Leila Ragnarok
First question went unheard, apparently, because there was no answer. Even if Leila didn't manage to hide all symptoms, she wasn't going to admit something wasn't well. It was tiring to put up a show, however. She was used that most of the time was /hers/, and if she chose to, she could yell and punch some walls when in pain. Oh well, soon she would be alone again. In the mean time, the woman listened to Raphael's musing.
"Good question," she smirked sideways at him. "Schorr would give you a fancy answer. My opinion: there are no good hands when it comes to highly dangerous weapons. But at least Zofie won't use it until they have turned it into something truly formidable. But that's some time off, which gives other Corporations time to prepare an anti-weapon."
Or Zofie simply won't exist as people know by then... When their highest leader will be taken out, all the Corporation will be shattered. From research, he was heart and brain behind everything. Of course, other Corporations will snatch up the remains of Zofie and their projects, but it will take a good deal of time before everything stabilizes and serious research on them are done.
"There will be food. The fat ladies and gentleman just can't do without it, you know." Another smirk. "I am surprised you remembered about it, however. Didn't seem to be important factor to you these days."
They were getting closer to the house now, and Leila mentally sighed in relief. Being a solitary creature for most of her life, it was hard to adjust to often recurring conversations with the same, slightly annoying specimen. Maybe she could do it with time... But what was the point? Raphael was just a tree growing on side of the road she was taking. She would reach her destination, and then disappear from the road. With her goal, there was no space for friendship - if it could even be formed with someone so absurdly different from her.
Raphael Emmerich
Good question? "Was that almost a compliment?" He half-teased, but was equally surprised. Still, he absorbed what she said and sighed. Right, right.
Her mention of his lack of food drew a twinge. "...Yeah, I uh... I kind of forget really. A few protein shakes or eggs to train. I'm used to dinner being on when I get home, or at least in the fridge." Yeah, he's kind of dysfunctional without the family unit around. "...But damn if I'm not hungry, and at least it'll give me something to do." Hopefully he could linger at the banquet table and not look entirely awkward.
Regardless, he slipped out when they arrived, and ruffled his hair, letting out an aggitated sound. "Feels weird." Yes, being clean cut feels odd to him now. He's used to feeling it flop around awkwardly. Well, don't worry, at least he got rid of a bit of the refined combing and gave it a little bit of frazzle. That was more characteristic, right? "...Lead on? Am I your date or... what?"
Rafe had several suits; a few never saw action and were on intense lockdown, one recorded as "nemesis". Its features were far too destructive for his style, and weren't even pulled out during 'Ragnarok', instead weilded by Lode. His others were simple: one was bulletproof, even resisting his own turrets during an accident, and highly absorbent to most physical damage (the high cal rapid rounds still broke his ribs from the impacts, however). It was made of a curious hypercompressed metal, and unless full LAI data was uncovered the wing structure remained a mystery, as some microfiber woven of unidentified metal. The helmet had filtration, was water proof, and heat resistant up to 1000 degrees if the suit was in optimal condition. It had night, infrared, uv and other systems and was capable of projecting multiple screens, controlled by voice or blink. As she knew it had internal radio capabilities and, when fully functional, could route through 'level nine' multiple ways to commune with dante. The suit's Hands were built to attach accessories, including velcro, magnets, tools, and anything else a hands-on kind of man would use. Chambers in the arms held pikes for launching below, and containers of knock out gas above to work through the palm, which could also attach a taser system. The back plating was the weakness of the suit, which had almost had Necoc Yaotl Rudianos (enemy of both sides, the red war god) slay him during ragnarok by piercing opportunistically between the plating that allowed movement. This was the first discovery of his 'continued animation', as the suit also capable of reading biorhythms detected he was medically dead. The suit multiplied his weight drastically, but took some time to apply. His other was instantaneous, sponsored by lode corp instead of lai and running on nanotechnology. It ocmbusted most clothing and burnt weak flesh upon launch, and was concealed as bands on the hand with a trigger sequence. Perhaps she remembered him asking dante where he last put it, codename: dragon, and the extended launch sequence. the suit was lighter weight, lacked certain chemical traits but recreated the simpler hand tools and effectively made a minimalistic version anywhere. It lacked the plating weakness, but wasnt as impervious to high caliber rounds, capable of deflecting most hand guns, semi automatics, and low power rifles. As for where the man was, expect to have to go in through his door, left open. His stairs had been finished with the same dream-house appeal he first envisioned it with, twining from the den to the upstairs, which were both shoddy. The carpet had been torn up for him to rework the floor underneath, which he was likely doing whenever she spotted him. Actually, he was already standing and wiping his brow off, as the bay window of the den gave view of the car he heard pulling up. Yeah, rafe, at a ball. The sweaty, sawdust-and-finish smelling man there. "Sup now?" whenever she came by, it meant business.
Leila Ragnarok
The vehicle's doors slid shut and she got out, heading for the building. Leila paused briefly, taking in the changes done on its outside and inside. When he greeted her, she came in, careful to not step on something extra slippery or broken, not wanting to fall disgracefully.
"Mr. Emmerich, you are cordially invited to the Grand Ball hosted by famous Renov Corporation, held at their HQ tomorrow's night 9 pm." She said it in perfect English accent, in mockery to his awful attempt last time. "If you chose to accept it, I shall inform you on further details about the mission. Upon refusal, you shall bring dismay to the whole Zofie Corporation team."
"Oh, and also, if you don't have fitting outfit, I am to take you shopping, or something along those lines." Back to normal speaking, in extremely bored manner. Apparently, despite being a girl who seemed to spend awfully much time working on her image (all the lacy, fancy dresses and jewelry suggested that), Leila did not like cloth shopping /too/ much.
Raphael Emmerich
"A... Ball?" he stared blankly. "Like... A dancing ball?" no, one that fucking bounces, Rafe. He stared, waiting for the punchline. None came. "Um... I don't really have anything to wear and... what's dressy fashion like now, anyway? I'm kinda... still in the late 90s." he admitted. Yeah, like 1990's.
Leila Ragnarok
"You can avoid dancing, so some lady from fancy corporation doesn't punch you for stomping her foot off. So, don't worry about that." She smirked slightly, at his somewhat startled look. A bit like deer in headlights. It was a bit surprising he didn't just say "no" and get over with it. Oh well, another hope washed down the drain. But maybe it wasn't too late?
"It's... not that bad. You can get some nano-fabric suit from high class brand and still look reasonable. I am sure there will be shopping assistants or whatever to help you out." The woman looked him up and down and then shook her head. "I refuse to transport you in this state anywhere, though." Seriously, it would be pain already.
Raphael Emmerich
"Oh... Um..." he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly... and immediately regreted it. A minor ripping sound followed as a sticky liquid on his fingers had glued a few strands of hair to his hand. ...oddly he didn't flinch, just stared oddly. "I'll... Uh... I'll go take a shower." work was work. He might not take absorbent amounts of money for it, but if he had means to pay dues, Emmerich did it. He stopped on his way to the elevator. "Got some basic shopping done, by the way... So check the fridge out if you want, or something." married life had straightened Rafe out a good deal, but bachelor Rafe was a bit of a mess. What few dishes he had were in the sink. Drinks came in jug or can form only. His idea of basics were eggs, cheese, bread and a few things to throw between them. Microwave dinners had always been a thing but he was nervous about the modern equivalent. ...by the looks of it he actually hadn't eaten much of anything since... ever. Without a wifey there, as she had been for many years as a home maker, he forgot to feed himself. Or maybe... He just didn't care enough to bother. She had ample time to do as she liked as he descended and took a power shower below. The place still wasn't much to look at save for the few mentioned areas. He insisted on doing it himself, no extra crews. It had taken him over a year the first time, so there was little reason for this to be different. But something like thirty minutes later he was emerging, toweling off his hair still, which... By then was out of control. Not terribly long, but never shaped and falling in the eyes. At least he had thought to shave off his impending chin-shadow.
Leila Ragnarok, Narrator
She wasn't going to eat, not feeling hungry, but in casual manner, Leila checked out his food reserves and found them more than lacking. Mental sigh. She had thought he had figured that pizza and take-homes still existed, but apparently not. Well, one more thing to mock him about eventually. Seriously, how did that mass of a man manage to sustain him self and keep on leading an active life. Mental training or not, this seemed a bit absurd. Leila wondered if Raphael was malfunctioning because he /missed/ his wife, or he missed her because he failed at living normally without someone to take care of him.
The young woman sat down and stared at the wall, then, waiting for him to come back. She glanced at him, considering taking Raphael to some salon to have his hair cut, among other things. She would mention it, when they would be on their way back.
Leila didn't speak, except informing to take his Zofie ID to show in shop, until they both eventually got in the car. She turned on some music, which sounded far more aggressive than anything she had listened when he was around, although it was played rather quietly - he wouldn't have to worry about his ears. The drive took a while, but then they reached the shopping center. More like a sky scraper that had everything, from hotel, to gym and various malls and other "necessities".
It was crowded and although she didn't let him get lost, Leila walked onward quickly, weaving her way between the people as if it was nothing. Her face, however, showed faint distaste. Secretly, this person hated large crowds, all these squished people, pushing, bumping, making noise, running around from one shop to another for the best of deals, the stupid laughter the girls made... And basically every feature of shopping malls and crowds.
"There we go." They had reached a more quiet corner of the third floor of the shopping mall. Apparently, few hundred years didn't change it that men weren't the biggest shopping maniacs, although there were bunch of rich and fancy looking people around, "swimming" from one shop to another. They chose a chain of shops under some foreign name, that had various type shops under its "wing", so there wouldn't be running from one shop to another.
"Dress him for a high class ball, from head to toe, with the best you have," she casually told the man behind the counter, who was staring at them. The frail, fair woman with the dark, laced clothing together with the large, worker-type man indeed made a strange pair, the latter one obviously not fitting in. Leaving Raphael in the hands of professional, she exited the shop, to return a hour later, when the torture would be finished. Apparently, the ID was enough to create no doubts there would be pay.
As Raphael learned trough the process, the trends had hardly changed. Mostly only tie patterns, but most transformations had happened to the fabrics. Now, the suits, and even more expensive shirts, adapted to their wearer for the best look, even adjusted their temperature within certain set frames, so the wearer would always feel good. Some were able to change colors. In the end, the man got Raphael look... well, not so much as a country bumpkin in the big city. It is not cloth, but attitude and way one carries him self that makes a high class man, but at least the cloth part would not fail him.
If he wanted, he could probably grab some jeans, sneakers and casual clothes along the way, too, before Leila returned.
Raphael Emmerich
His lack of self care was a little of column A and B, with a mix of the fact that... Without incentive, Rafe had been a sloppy bachelor. After training, for focus' sake he wouldn't let his house become a sty again, but... Well, a few protein shakes and things to generally build were all he cared about. Crack a drink or a raw egg (and make use of futuristic toilets!) and all was well enough. Of course, it might account for trace lines under his eyes indicating malnourishment, but he was still alive and functioning, for what that was worth. "Oh, right. ID." he jogged to another room and returned with it. Hopefully he hadn't forgotten anything else important, like his brain. Rafe wasn't one of those guys who indulged in shopping. However, he did stare around mystified at the population, the changes in technology, and culture. He hadn't bothered going anywhere that congested yet. He followed blindly, bumping a few passers-by while rubbernecking and having to catch up to her.
In the store, he tossed the poor clerk an awkward smile and wave. Yes! Update him. Leila was leaving and he threw out a "woah woah woah" as the closest thing to a mental safety net walked out, but that probably didn't stop her. Well... Okay. He had a vague sense of this style of fashion. He had to dress up for some meetings when he temporarily headed LAI during John's break, even if he spent them tipped back in a chair balancing a pen on his nose. Hopefully technology had made the tie-tying part easier. If not he cursed life. Rafe didn't often deal in fancy clothes. For so long they seemed unreachable to him that by the time they made it, it was pointless. Still, he could spot a snazzy suit when he saw one. Simple black, moderately casual, reigned in by the tie that was figured out one way or another. Leila might be surprised that he cleaned up nicely. At least, that's what Azucena had told him. A set of matching gloves were found to replace his biker wear, and he insisted on sunglasses, even if they were far from prim. By the time she came, they were flipped up to sit on top of his head. She might notice traces of casuality--an untucked shirt beneath it, for example--but for the most part he seemed mostly civilized. He hadn't grabbed spares. In casual situations, his clothes suited him well enough for all he cared. He was the type to be fond of a hole earned in a certain pair of underwear. But now, he grinned at her with the same awkward expression he had given the clerk before. "Well?"
Leila Ragnarok
She gave him an approving nod, after inspecting his looks from top to bottom. "Well, finally you look somewhat smart at least in some aspect." More of a praise than insult, in this case. It wasn't said as coldly as a word attack would be.
Apparently, he wasn't a complete failure and Leila could bet the assistant hadn't helped out that much, in the end. Maybe only guided from one isle to another.
She paid with credit card casually, maybe Raphael noticed there was no name on it as he was used to, only a logo, which the man could recognize as Zofie's, and the number. If it wouldn't be purchase for him, Leila would never use credit card. She paid only in clear cash, taken out in small sums from accounts in various places. Most of them even Zofie didn't know about. The woman was careful to leave as little electric footprints as possible. Her sneaking around databases of all calibers were dangerous enough. The less information out in the web about who did it, the better. And with higher security, the abilities of tracing had also grown over the centuries.
When all was packed, and they got out of the shop, she paused. "Want to go to barber or going for the "careless stud" look, or whatever they call it in fashion magazines?" Her expression became a little bit disdained at this.
Leila apparently had stopped at a shop or two, having a small shopping bag, but it was from brown paper, no logos or anything that could give away its contents.
Raphael Emmerich
"Careless... stud?" He looked up at his own bangs... indicator enough they needed a trim.
"Oh. Els alwas gets this sad look when I trim it short." Go figure. The wifey enjoyed tossed hair and scruff. Regardless, he belatedly looked taken down a few pegs. "Got." He corrected his tense appropriately to the past.
"I ain't a total bum." He spoke all elegantly and stuff. "As a kid I hit the clubs all the time." He muttered. Of course, his idea of being a kid was only a few years younger than he looked then.
"I... guess I could go for a cut. Just don't buzz me."
Leila Ragnarok
Leila actually did not have anything against long hair on a man. But then it had to be thick and shoulder, or shoulder-blades length, or else it looked laughable. Not that she paid much attention to such details, or male appearances in general. Once, she had been in love, yes... But it was the deceiving safety, the feeling that there was someone to trust, someone who would support her, that had made him so precious to her, not his looks.
At his club commentary, the young woman rolled her eyes. She went clubbing only when it was part of the mission, or she needed some information. But if she said that, Raphael would probably be just as surprised as when she told she didn't drink. And chattering wasn't in her to-do list.
"Fine then," she quickly replied and in decisive manner, moved to the right. However, it took a bit of wandering for her to find the barber shop. There, Leila left him again, leaving the decision of hairstyle up to her "partner" and his barber. Last thing she wanted to do was to be seen sitting in barber shop, reading a fashion magazine and waiting for him, as if she was indeed some nanny.
Raphael Emmerich
Well, his order to them was simple. Just... trim it a never bit. Rafe was never sure why, but he never got a real cut. It was probably a good deal of why it always managed to grow back into a mess so quickly, but at least it would serve for the night. Once shortened, with a bit of gel his hair held minor spikes nicely, sweeping back comfortably as needed. The simplicity of it kept it from taking long, and soon he was alongside again. "All right. So.... a ball... why?" He still wasn't clear on it. Order a worker ant to do something and it tends to mindlessly go on its task without ever pondering the reason. What little he'd been told was still enough to leave him confused. "I'm not going to get graded on my waltz, or something now, am I? I already told you I'm no good there."
Leila Ragnarok
She groaned softly at his questions.
"Not here." Did he have any idea that there were some topics off the public discussion? There was very little chance someone would be eavesdropping right now, but it existed. And how many great people had failed because they had not paid attention to things like these? Plenty enough.
When they were in the relative security of her vehicle, she leaned back slightly, shutting eyes briefly. A bit more and vein on her temples would be pulsing - the headache had come out about hour ago and got gradually stronger and stronger. Three deep breathes and she was back in line, the car taking off in the usual gut wrenching manner.
"You're probably being tested for social uses, but I don't think dancing means much. Mission is to swap some of their chips with ours, so some "potentially highly dangerous weapon" doesn't fall in the wrong hands. The security will be high, but it's a great path right in the heart of their Corporation, few floors above the target."
The woman paused, thinking over the other details. "You are supposed to stay in the central room, as decoy and backup. I carry out the business. Anything else? I am not good at briefing up for others."
Raphael Emmerich
"You okay?" He hiked a brow at her. She looked like she had a headache--probably because she did. "...Social uses?" He seemed boggled. "I'm like a fish out of water in high-toned and fancy to-dos."
"Highly dangerous weapon. Great. And what makes Zofie the right hands?" Hopefully he'd learn to shut his mouth about it, but as she was a partner he was treating her as such. Questioning his superiors was eventually going to be considered out of line.
"...Right. So I'm bait. Or a herring. Or something. I think I've got it. 'Long as I can find you if I have to take up on the 'backup' part."
Pause.
"...They'll have food there, right?"
Leila Ragnarok
First question went unheard, apparently, because there was no answer. Even if Leila didn't manage to hide all symptoms, she wasn't going to admit something wasn't well. It was tiring to put up a show, however. She was used that most of the time was /hers/, and if she chose to, she could yell and punch some walls when in pain. Oh well, soon she would be alone again. In the mean time, the woman listened to Raphael's musing.
"Good question," she smirked sideways at him. "Schorr would give you a fancy answer. My opinion: there are no good hands when it comes to highly dangerous weapons. But at least Zofie won't use it until they have turned it into something truly formidable. But that's some time off, which gives other Corporations time to prepare an anti-weapon."
Or Zofie simply won't exist as people know by then... When their highest leader will be taken out, all the Corporation will be shattered. From research, he was heart and brain behind everything. Of course, other Corporations will snatch up the remains of Zofie and their projects, but it will take a good deal of time before everything stabilizes and serious research on them are done.
"There will be food. The fat ladies and gentleman just can't do without it, you know." Another smirk. "I am surprised you remembered about it, however. Didn't seem to be important factor to you these days."
They were getting closer to the house now, and Leila mentally sighed in relief. Being a solitary creature for most of her life, it was hard to adjust to often recurring conversations with the same, slightly annoying specimen. Maybe she could do it with time... But what was the point? Raphael was just a tree growing on side of the road she was taking. She would reach her destination, and then disappear from the road. With her goal, there was no space for friendship - if it could even be formed with someone so absurdly different from her.
Raphael Emmerich
Good question? "Was that almost a compliment?" He half-teased, but was equally surprised. Still, he absorbed what she said and sighed. Right, right.
Her mention of his lack of food drew a twinge. "...Yeah, I uh... I kind of forget really. A few protein shakes or eggs to train. I'm used to dinner being on when I get home, or at least in the fridge." Yeah, he's kind of dysfunctional without the family unit around. "...But damn if I'm not hungry, and at least it'll give me something to do." Hopefully he could linger at the banquet table and not look entirely awkward.
Regardless, he slipped out when they arrived, and ruffled his hair, letting out an aggitated sound. "Feels weird." Yes, being clean cut feels odd to him now. He's used to feeling it flop around awkwardly. Well, don't worry, at least he got rid of a bit of the refined combing and gave it a little bit of frazzle. That was more characteristic, right? "...Lead on? Am I your date or... what?"
Leila Ragnarok
"If you're so desperate for them, go ahead and consider that as one." Right back at you, mister. It was a considerably light banter for her, however, without trying to bite to his backbone. Leila doubted there were many things besides his family that would get him so painfully, however. Didn't seem like the touchy-touchy all around type. Maybe just too dull to take more things in that manner.
"We will be group of 6, but as you're my "partner", it goes for things like these, too." Apparently, she didn't like using the words "date" and the like, so it was avoided smoothly. The woman refrained from commenting that he was the one weird. "Be ready at 7, I'll pick you up then." And just like that, she left. As usually. Chit-chat really wasn't get strong side.
For a change, Leila slept like log trough the night. Credits went to sleeping pills she had taken, however. It was rare when she did something like that, not liking the "knock out" effect. But there were times when it was just needed. She wanted a peaceful night.
After training and messing with her car for a while, Leila began preparing with good time reserve. It was a large ball and she knew that everyone there would be dressed in their best. And so, the young woman prepared accordingly. Although she would stand out in style choice and would not be perfectly matched to her partner, Leila stayed true to her sense of beauty.
She chose a silvery-white long dress, with rich skirt. The material was heavy, but moved beautifully when she walked. Top layer, from waist to mid thigh had floral pattern in slightly darker tone than base, but bottom gradually changed color, depending on light - from white to light gray, from no glow to slight silver sheen. The bodice was very similar, well fit, but on her breast, it became more free, the fabrics falling in soft waves. Across the exposed skin from above breasts to neck, two straps formed a cross. Her back was hidden and so were her shoulders. One of Leila's favorite part about this dress were the arms - the fabric ended slightly under her shoulders, straps weaving down from there to her elbows, where a flared sleeve began. It was split in front and it fell around her arm elegantly. All her scars were hidden, the back of dress fully closed, and shoulder part covering the rest.
Instead of tons of makeup with fake lashes and creating a whole art on her face that was now in fashion, Leila chose light mask. It was more for beauty than anything, in shape of butterfly, made from crystals in white and faintly blue color. The hair probably took the most time, although her most trusted shadow helped her, with slightly clumsy fingers. Top half of hair was braided and then wrapped like a crown around her head, held in place by hairpins with crystal heads. The rest was also braided, but more loosely, and in more intricate manner, held together by white band with crystals. No other jewelry was chosen. Her shoes were silvery-gray, with nice, stable heel. A small "envelope" type bag, with essentials. However, the things that /really/ mattered were hid between the skirt and underskirt, in pockets sewed there.
In the end, in possible surprise for Raphael, Leila arrived exactly on time, without any excuses or usual lady lateness. "Traffic is busier than I expected, so, prepare for bumpy ride," she warned him in casual manner, while someone sung about having lost faith in holy wars in the background.
Raphael Emmerich
Had a chance to rest on it first. Great. He might even eat. The subtle traces of malnutrition were even becoming evident to him in the mirror as he cleaned up a shave, and their conversation had reminded him of just how little he was eating.
But the time to rattle his nerves came, and her with it."How bumpy can traffic be in the sky?" He probably shouldn't have asked, and may end up remembering his fears of turbulence. But, true to form, he had cleaned up fairly well. A sleek suit, a bit casual in form with an untucked style and loose tie, but overall not sporting a look from a 90s music video was an improvement. A pair of dark gloves were a bit uncomfortable for him, but necessary for a reason he wouldn't admit. Fingerless gloves weren't exactly fancy, but he was the type of man who enjoyed feeling his grip. It actually drove him nuts about being in the suit at most times, but leaving fingerprints around wasn't exactly tactical for a vigilante.
Get him inside before he embarasses himself worse! Then again, that might be the worst thing to do. The best he could do was hope 'boyish charm' went over well with the right bigwigs.
It took until they were exiting the vehicle for him to view the full scope of her dress. He paused, and stared. "...Wow." he sounded surprised. "It's... easy to forget you're a woman." It's amazing how often he puts his foot in his mouth without even realizing it. His words, often intended well, always manage to come out in the worst possible way. Still, he'd taken to placing her less in the fine feminine bracket and more in burly coworker in spite of her lolita styles. He never much cared for that, but the classic dress made him remember. Jokes about dates, this and that--they were shallow and autonomous, but the more embarassing the statement, the more he probably meant it--just not that way.
Leila Ragnarok
"You're about to find out," she responded about his question about air traffic. And indeed, he did. If the first drive had been a chaotic up-side-down-side-up-up-down, like out of some over-the-top video game, then this was triple as crazy. Apparently, Friday nights were a small hell on the literal high ways. It all went in shaky, head spinning blur until they joined another two black vehicles, taking the place of second in line. The other cars seemed to give path to them, although it just could seem so, due to the huge car that led them.
Leila did all the stomach wrenching driving casually, her instincts and reflexes taking them smoothly out of any dangerous situation. The vehicle made to respond to every move from her, if needed, made a perfect team with her. Of course, they could have went the slow way, getting stuck in jams, which apparently existed even in skyways. But that wouldn't be like her. Besides, this woman hated to be late.
When the line of cars smoothly landed and she got out, Leila was given another chance to mentally sigh about him. It was a compliment, most likely, taking in consideration how awkward he was about things. She cultivated her girly style to hold at least something from her gender, but with her life and how she went about things, it was understandable she was counted among the men. Too little gentleness and sweetness.
Leila gave him a sweet smile to that, but it held those certain steely qualities she possessed. Most would shiver when gifted with such smile. "You look great, too." Mockery or honesty, that was for Raphael left to decide.
Although she was always graceful, it seemed she felt good in fancy dresses. Certainly, she carried it with regal posture, keeping to Raphael's pace nicely, especially if he remembered his manners or played along the other pairs and offered her his elbow.
The building was grand, all lights from inside and outside. Golden and burgundy apparently were still considered colors fit for such occasions, so everything lit in those. The old he knew and new merged well, in intricate, moving paintings on the walls, in old frames, or the lights that turned to bring attention to everyone who passed them.
When they reached the grand room, it was dim, a stark contrast to the hall. There were murmurs all around the room and it was full with people. Diamonds lit sparks everywhere. When the light would come, the two of them would certainly stand out.
When everyone had gathered, one of the walls slid open and a small stage with someone standing on it slid out. The lights now turned solely on the man, in his mid sixties, hair already turning silver. Leila stiffened next to Raphael, as if she was about to pounce, but it was just few seconds, and then she relaxed. The man gave a speech about what a great night it was, to have them all here, and how he hoped everyone would enjoy them selves and there would be attention brought to their cause. Apparently, it was a partial charity drive ball. Mentally, the woman smirked that if not for image, none of these people would care what happened to low ranks or humans...
When the official talking was over, light returned, and the orchestra played music. They were electrical instruments, however, and different music than Raphael would know as official ball music. Modified waltzes and the like, since the old composers weren't "fit" for this society. Everything was "remade".
Leila casually talked with the other Zofie representatives, one pair being Schorr and his wife. Then they swam off somewhere and she engaged in casual conversations with other men and women. Strategically, she had positioned them near the table, hoping he wouldn't cause too much shame on both of them. Obviously, she seemed quite different from usual Leila, slipping into Society Cream personality like it was her second skin... Then again, it should have been her natural one.
However, even now in her remarks there was certain well hidden sarcasm and they were witty, although it was mostly lost to the receivers. While the chattering continued, the woman casually took in surroundings and followed position of her target.
Raphael Emmerich
Rafe remembered then why he had avoided aerial vehicles. Aside from the absurdity of John's Halo, the turbulence was not something he cared to deal with more than once. And, for once, his mussed hair was not a lazy fashion statement as he slid out of the vehicle and straightened... everything, a little bit at a time.
He wasn't a total hooligan; he did, indeed, even offer an elbow. He wouldn't have guessed she was expecting it, even. In fact, he personally expected it rejected and looked mildly surprised if she took it. "...Feel like I walked into a cabaret." He muttered at the color scheme, but then flinched at the visual once the muddled crowd of elderly people lingered about. That... would be a horrifying cabaret.
He noticed her apparent nerves, and took it as a cue to be on alert himself rather than just floundering in the culture. He tried to lighten the mood, leaning over and whispering into her ear behind a cupped hand. "...How much money do you think they could raise if they just sold everything they used to set up the shindig?" Well, it was kind of ironic for a charity event, but he knew even from his time, it often went that way.
By the time dances came into play, he... awkwardly ushered himself off to the side near the table, even if it involved splitting from her. He watched the modern dance trends more than even listening to the music, awkwardly idling like the bachelor he was at the side of the floor. He kept distant eye on Leila as she did her best to mingle into the crowd, but did what he could to remain a few casual paces away. Schorr wasn't a particularly welcome face to Rafe, anyway, and any notice of him was met by a deflection of his gaze elsewhere while lingering a few awkward yards from his partner, unless someone went out of their way to engage him.
Leila Ragnarok
"Probably to build a new village for the homeless," she quietly replied to his question. Not that she had absolutely all the rights to judge - her father made impressive balls as well, but he also donated to charity and actually made sure it reached the right hands. No person was ever treated as servant there and everyone got their gifts on Christmas. Although their house was rather big, it was nothing compared to some mansions, so everyone that had lived there, had been part of the family. Or so she had thought...
After a while more of talking, dancing took place and the young woman managed to avoid accepting any invites, by going to her partner. The polite smile cracked and fell, when she turned her back to the dance floor and her eyes narrowed, but then Leila sighed and regained her composure. "I have one favor to ask of you," she said in soft voice, and then put campaign glass to her mouth, but didn't actually sip any of it. It was just to keep her hands busy and waiters away from offering her another.
"If someone asks me for a dance, I will say they have to ask you as my partner. Do tell them no. I am rather sure it will be only thing I ask of you." Just the thought of these grimy men touching her made Leila shiver in displeasure. She then turned back to face the ballroom again, eyes travelling from one man to another, but often stopping at the one who had given the speech. He was not her victim for the night, but the woman dearly wished he would be. Maybe she would manage to get him out of the way, among other things? No, too risky, two assassinations in the same night.
Raphael Emmerich
"So... technically..." he muttered, "you're mine all night. So if i ask you to da-just messing. Sorry. I'm pretty sure I'd look like a dying bird." But the mood stayed serious enough as she went in her way and eyeballed someone.
Rafe wasn't always the brightest but he knew he was once again largely in the dark. It was generally infuriating as a man indoctrinated with raw independence. His world had been re-arranged and he was still parsing the nightmare, albeit the currently very posh nightmare, he had woken into.
He searched out the wine. They served in pansy glasses he wouldn't even feel anyway.
Leila Ragnarok
"By laws of etiquette, maybe, but I am no ones, dear partner," Leila sweetly reminded him, even smiling. "And I would probably refuse, to save you from public shame. Although, I think you would make a good dancer if only you had a fine teacher." If he could keep his balance and dance ballet, he had to have some sense of rhythm, so Raphael couldn't be an absolute dancing disaster.
She scoffed a little at him drinking, but then sighed mentally. He wouldn't listen anyways, having some obscure excuse to drink. The young woman hoped it wasn't a dominant trait of his - to get to alcohol whenever possible.Well, not that she will have to put up with it much longer. That made things easier to tolerate.
About twenty more minutes of chit-chat with him and then she tip-toed to reach up to his ear (the height difference could be annoying). "I have to go now, to make this party really remarkable. If someone asks for me, say that I am in the lady's room." A giggle, as if she had shared a private joke or rumor with him, and Leila left the ballroom.
She indeed did go to lady's room, but since it was empty, she never lit the lights, using the advantage of darkness to dissolve, now moving much quicker up the stairs. Leila knew where she had to go, and knew her victim. Like predicted, he was in his nearly empty cabinet, looking over the city, screen on right showing the ballroom.
The man's hair were white, and when he turned to her - and he did - his face and most of all - eyes - were tired. So tired. But Leila wasn't surprised about that. Many of the old sharks were tired of their lives, of cunning and lies that made their suits. However, he spoke, and that's what took her aback.
"So, this is the true grand finale of his plan. I always thought he hid one detail from me." And his tired eyes stared in hers, while on the screen, the wall of ballroom erupted in chain of explosions and masked people darted in.
"Go ahead," he spoke, and so Leila did, knowing that this time, it was a relief, a punishment and grant of freedom all at the very same moment. Quick work and the chips were also replaced and then she fled, in same non-physical form she had kept. Her goal was to find Raphael and then get lost as quickly as possible. /Something/ hadn't gone as planned - the chaos on the screen was proof.
Raphael Emmerich
His own jest got rebounded onto him with embarassment. He rubbed the back of his head and glanced down with awkward grin. "Just get me the tutu." He managed at his own expense.
He hadn't thought about the drink causing such distaste in her. With them going different ways, he imagined it would be a non issue. Silly little man. She shared her faux-secret, and he blinked. "Um... have fun?" he hadn't any real followup to that, and watched her vanish with a mix of confusion and suspicion. As was typical, he could assume there was more going on than he had been told, but the most he could do was flash grins at the few faces in the crowd he unfortunately recognized from the facility, which spoke of falseness and the general discomfort being there, amidst the glamor and refined tastes.
His own presence was fairly casual, as to be expected of him. Still, the rattling of an explosion surely threw debris and decorations and fine glasses in shards across the room, and several more were following. The first response was to tackle the nearest elderly person to the ground in defense, which drew just as much protest. Well, they were going to go down regardless, so better from him than shrapnel. The pandemonium resulted in gritted teeth as he remained squatted. Between legs moving as quickly as the would-be prestigious crowd had in them, and just as much self-important disagreement of importances over each other--he spied masked assailants. Was THAT what he was brought here for?
Remaining crouched for a second, he ripped off the gloves he had completed his attire with. A quick series of button presses and he was taking off in a crouched sprint through the crowd as sparse wisps of fire from the explosion of energy wove a quicksilver suit around his frame. "MOVE." He bellowed through distortion, forcefully seperating the tides of men and women in panic to forge his own path in the primary noticed direction of assailants. The crowd was his biggest trouble; both protecting and getting through the pandemonium were almost contradictory tasks, so by the time he slid to the front it was almost into the face of another explosion. At fringes of heat and concussion dangerous to even a steel-wrapped form, he raised his winged arm which flared, buffering the fiercest waves. Beneath it, a set of bolos were thrown beneath the defensive covering. The rotating weapon was aimed at the nearest offender's ankles. Once horizontally reaching the balls rotated around and interlocked, with irony weight to catch their feet out from under him. "ALRIGHT, WHO'S THE WISE ASS?" He bellowed with a voice far more ripe with aggression than the man belief. Funny what a modulator could do.
How many were there? Where were they spilling from? Did they have any armored vestiges, or uniform attire? What weapons were they weilding? These were all surprisingly quick assessments to divide enemy from crowd and also try to identify his targets; even if he then realized he knew nothing about the world. -Dante.- Yes, sir. The feed from the visor helm in the now active connection ran a series of searches in the current and still growing database for any identifying marking his eyes caught and focused on.
But there was more than that. He needed to be on assault, rather than play sitting duck. Give them something else to focus on. He closed in at a sprint to the next assailant of the party, rushing head on and trusting that lower caliber weaponry would be deflected. At least, he hoped calibers were equally effective now. He'd hate to learn otherwise. Without the ability to have stored his alternate bombs on hand without a potential for a frisking, he'd have to resort to good-old fashioned brutality. A series of close quarter combat moves came from a surprisingly nimble figure. The old suit had better bullet resistance, but for his size he ducked and weaved a few attacks with the efficiency of the boxer, responding with more foreign jujitsu moves. Were martial arts even still practiced? Pressure point beneath the arm pit when raised and swung at, crippling pain. Flat palm to the plexus, almost crushing with the weight from his forearms--though not as devastating as Wraith. While still in personal codename, his current suit was clearly Dragon. Thump. One floored, a second approaching responded to with a sweep kick, and the brief distance reacted to with a high jump.
"I GUESS NOBODY TEACHES FIRE DRILLS ANYMORE, HUH?" he roared in frustration at the general situation.
"If you're so desperate for them, go ahead and consider that as one." Right back at you, mister. It was a considerably light banter for her, however, without trying to bite to his backbone. Leila doubted there were many things besides his family that would get him so painfully, however. Didn't seem like the touchy-touchy all around type. Maybe just too dull to take more things in that manner.
"We will be group of 6, but as you're my "partner", it goes for things like these, too." Apparently, she didn't like using the words "date" and the like, so it was avoided smoothly. The woman refrained from commenting that he was the one weird. "Be ready at 7, I'll pick you up then." And just like that, she left. As usually. Chit-chat really wasn't get strong side.
For a change, Leila slept like log trough the night. Credits went to sleeping pills she had taken, however. It was rare when she did something like that, not liking the "knock out" effect. But there were times when it was just needed. She wanted a peaceful night.
After training and messing with her car for a while, Leila began preparing with good time reserve. It was a large ball and she knew that everyone there would be dressed in their best. And so, the young woman prepared accordingly. Although she would stand out in style choice and would not be perfectly matched to her partner, Leila stayed true to her sense of beauty.
She chose a silvery-white long dress, with rich skirt. The material was heavy, but moved beautifully when she walked. Top layer, from waist to mid thigh had floral pattern in slightly darker tone than base, but bottom gradually changed color, depending on light - from white to light gray, from no glow to slight silver sheen. The bodice was very similar, well fit, but on her breast, it became more free, the fabrics falling in soft waves. Across the exposed skin from above breasts to neck, two straps formed a cross. Her back was hidden and so were her shoulders. One of Leila's favorite part about this dress were the arms - the fabric ended slightly under her shoulders, straps weaving down from there to her elbows, where a flared sleeve began. It was split in front and it fell around her arm elegantly. All her scars were hidden, the back of dress fully closed, and shoulder part covering the rest.
Instead of tons of makeup with fake lashes and creating a whole art on her face that was now in fashion, Leila chose light mask. It was more for beauty than anything, in shape of butterfly, made from crystals in white and faintly blue color. The hair probably took the most time, although her most trusted shadow helped her, with slightly clumsy fingers. Top half of hair was braided and then wrapped like a crown around her head, held in place by hairpins with crystal heads. The rest was also braided, but more loosely, and in more intricate manner, held together by white band with crystals. No other jewelry was chosen. Her shoes were silvery-gray, with nice, stable heel. A small "envelope" type bag, with essentials. However, the things that /really/ mattered were hid between the skirt and underskirt, in pockets sewed there.
In the end, in possible surprise for Raphael, Leila arrived exactly on time, without any excuses or usual lady lateness. "Traffic is busier than I expected, so, prepare for bumpy ride," she warned him in casual manner, while someone sung about having lost faith in holy wars in the background.
Raphael Emmerich
Had a chance to rest on it first. Great. He might even eat. The subtle traces of malnutrition were even becoming evident to him in the mirror as he cleaned up a shave, and their conversation had reminded him of just how little he was eating.
But the time to rattle his nerves came, and her with it."How bumpy can traffic be in the sky?" He probably shouldn't have asked, and may end up remembering his fears of turbulence. But, true to form, he had cleaned up fairly well. A sleek suit, a bit casual in form with an untucked style and loose tie, but overall not sporting a look from a 90s music video was an improvement. A pair of dark gloves were a bit uncomfortable for him, but necessary for a reason he wouldn't admit. Fingerless gloves weren't exactly fancy, but he was the type of man who enjoyed feeling his grip. It actually drove him nuts about being in the suit at most times, but leaving fingerprints around wasn't exactly tactical for a vigilante.
Get him inside before he embarasses himself worse! Then again, that might be the worst thing to do. The best he could do was hope 'boyish charm' went over well with the right bigwigs.
It took until they were exiting the vehicle for him to view the full scope of her dress. He paused, and stared. "...Wow." he sounded surprised. "It's... easy to forget you're a woman." It's amazing how often he puts his foot in his mouth without even realizing it. His words, often intended well, always manage to come out in the worst possible way. Still, he'd taken to placing her less in the fine feminine bracket and more in burly coworker in spite of her lolita styles. He never much cared for that, but the classic dress made him remember. Jokes about dates, this and that--they were shallow and autonomous, but the more embarassing the statement, the more he probably meant it--just not that way.
Leila Ragnarok
"You're about to find out," she responded about his question about air traffic. And indeed, he did. If the first drive had been a chaotic up-side-down-side-up-up-down, like out of some over-the-top video game, then this was triple as crazy. Apparently, Friday nights were a small hell on the literal high ways. It all went in shaky, head spinning blur until they joined another two black vehicles, taking the place of second in line. The other cars seemed to give path to them, although it just could seem so, due to the huge car that led them.
Leila did all the stomach wrenching driving casually, her instincts and reflexes taking them smoothly out of any dangerous situation. The vehicle made to respond to every move from her, if needed, made a perfect team with her. Of course, they could have went the slow way, getting stuck in jams, which apparently existed even in skyways. But that wouldn't be like her. Besides, this woman hated to be late.
When the line of cars smoothly landed and she got out, Leila was given another chance to mentally sigh about him. It was a compliment, most likely, taking in consideration how awkward he was about things. She cultivated her girly style to hold at least something from her gender, but with her life and how she went about things, it was understandable she was counted among the men. Too little gentleness and sweetness.
Leila gave him a sweet smile to that, but it held those certain steely qualities she possessed. Most would shiver when gifted with such smile. "You look great, too." Mockery or honesty, that was for Raphael left to decide.
Although she was always graceful, it seemed she felt good in fancy dresses. Certainly, she carried it with regal posture, keeping to Raphael's pace nicely, especially if he remembered his manners or played along the other pairs and offered her his elbow.
The building was grand, all lights from inside and outside. Golden and burgundy apparently were still considered colors fit for such occasions, so everything lit in those. The old he knew and new merged well, in intricate, moving paintings on the walls, in old frames, or the lights that turned to bring attention to everyone who passed them.
When they reached the grand room, it was dim, a stark contrast to the hall. There were murmurs all around the room and it was full with people. Diamonds lit sparks everywhere. When the light would come, the two of them would certainly stand out.
When everyone had gathered, one of the walls slid open and a small stage with someone standing on it slid out. The lights now turned solely on the man, in his mid sixties, hair already turning silver. Leila stiffened next to Raphael, as if she was about to pounce, but it was just few seconds, and then she relaxed. The man gave a speech about what a great night it was, to have them all here, and how he hoped everyone would enjoy them selves and there would be attention brought to their cause. Apparently, it was a partial charity drive ball. Mentally, the woman smirked that if not for image, none of these people would care what happened to low ranks or humans...
When the official talking was over, light returned, and the orchestra played music. They were electrical instruments, however, and different music than Raphael would know as official ball music. Modified waltzes and the like, since the old composers weren't "fit" for this society. Everything was "remade".
Leila casually talked with the other Zofie representatives, one pair being Schorr and his wife. Then they swam off somewhere and she engaged in casual conversations with other men and women. Strategically, she had positioned them near the table, hoping he wouldn't cause too much shame on both of them. Obviously, she seemed quite different from usual Leila, slipping into Society Cream personality like it was her second skin... Then again, it should have been her natural one.
However, even now in her remarks there was certain well hidden sarcasm and they were witty, although it was mostly lost to the receivers. While the chattering continued, the woman casually took in surroundings and followed position of her target.
Raphael Emmerich
Rafe remembered then why he had avoided aerial vehicles. Aside from the absurdity of John's Halo, the turbulence was not something he cared to deal with more than once. And, for once, his mussed hair was not a lazy fashion statement as he slid out of the vehicle and straightened... everything, a little bit at a time.
He wasn't a total hooligan; he did, indeed, even offer an elbow. He wouldn't have guessed she was expecting it, even. In fact, he personally expected it rejected and looked mildly surprised if she took it. "...Feel like I walked into a cabaret." He muttered at the color scheme, but then flinched at the visual once the muddled crowd of elderly people lingered about. That... would be a horrifying cabaret.
He noticed her apparent nerves, and took it as a cue to be on alert himself rather than just floundering in the culture. He tried to lighten the mood, leaning over and whispering into her ear behind a cupped hand. "...How much money do you think they could raise if they just sold everything they used to set up the shindig?" Well, it was kind of ironic for a charity event, but he knew even from his time, it often went that way.
By the time dances came into play, he... awkwardly ushered himself off to the side near the table, even if it involved splitting from her. He watched the modern dance trends more than even listening to the music, awkwardly idling like the bachelor he was at the side of the floor. He kept distant eye on Leila as she did her best to mingle into the crowd, but did what he could to remain a few casual paces away. Schorr wasn't a particularly welcome face to Rafe, anyway, and any notice of him was met by a deflection of his gaze elsewhere while lingering a few awkward yards from his partner, unless someone went out of their way to engage him.
Leila Ragnarok
"Probably to build a new village for the homeless," she quietly replied to his question. Not that she had absolutely all the rights to judge - her father made impressive balls as well, but he also donated to charity and actually made sure it reached the right hands. No person was ever treated as servant there and everyone got their gifts on Christmas. Although their house was rather big, it was nothing compared to some mansions, so everyone that had lived there, had been part of the family. Or so she had thought...
After a while more of talking, dancing took place and the young woman managed to avoid accepting any invites, by going to her partner. The polite smile cracked and fell, when she turned her back to the dance floor and her eyes narrowed, but then Leila sighed and regained her composure. "I have one favor to ask of you," she said in soft voice, and then put campaign glass to her mouth, but didn't actually sip any of it. It was just to keep her hands busy and waiters away from offering her another.
"If someone asks me for a dance, I will say they have to ask you as my partner. Do tell them no. I am rather sure it will be only thing I ask of you." Just the thought of these grimy men touching her made Leila shiver in displeasure. She then turned back to face the ballroom again, eyes travelling from one man to another, but often stopping at the one who had given the speech. He was not her victim for the night, but the woman dearly wished he would be. Maybe she would manage to get him out of the way, among other things? No, too risky, two assassinations in the same night.
Raphael Emmerich
"So... technically..." he muttered, "you're mine all night. So if i ask you to da-just messing. Sorry. I'm pretty sure I'd look like a dying bird." But the mood stayed serious enough as she went in her way and eyeballed someone.
Rafe wasn't always the brightest but he knew he was once again largely in the dark. It was generally infuriating as a man indoctrinated with raw independence. His world had been re-arranged and he was still parsing the nightmare, albeit the currently very posh nightmare, he had woken into.
He searched out the wine. They served in pansy glasses he wouldn't even feel anyway.
Leila Ragnarok
"By laws of etiquette, maybe, but I am no ones, dear partner," Leila sweetly reminded him, even smiling. "And I would probably refuse, to save you from public shame. Although, I think you would make a good dancer if only you had a fine teacher." If he could keep his balance and dance ballet, he had to have some sense of rhythm, so Raphael couldn't be an absolute dancing disaster.
She scoffed a little at him drinking, but then sighed mentally. He wouldn't listen anyways, having some obscure excuse to drink. The young woman hoped it wasn't a dominant trait of his - to get to alcohol whenever possible.Well, not that she will have to put up with it much longer. That made things easier to tolerate.
About twenty more minutes of chit-chat with him and then she tip-toed to reach up to his ear (the height difference could be annoying). "I have to go now, to make this party really remarkable. If someone asks for me, say that I am in the lady's room." A giggle, as if she had shared a private joke or rumor with him, and Leila left the ballroom.
She indeed did go to lady's room, but since it was empty, she never lit the lights, using the advantage of darkness to dissolve, now moving much quicker up the stairs. Leila knew where she had to go, and knew her victim. Like predicted, he was in his nearly empty cabinet, looking over the city, screen on right showing the ballroom.
The man's hair were white, and when he turned to her - and he did - his face and most of all - eyes - were tired. So tired. But Leila wasn't surprised about that. Many of the old sharks were tired of their lives, of cunning and lies that made their suits. However, he spoke, and that's what took her aback.
"So, this is the true grand finale of his plan. I always thought he hid one detail from me." And his tired eyes stared in hers, while on the screen, the wall of ballroom erupted in chain of explosions and masked people darted in.
"Go ahead," he spoke, and so Leila did, knowing that this time, it was a relief, a punishment and grant of freedom all at the very same moment. Quick work and the chips were also replaced and then she fled, in same non-physical form she had kept. Her goal was to find Raphael and then get lost as quickly as possible. /Something/ hadn't gone as planned - the chaos on the screen was proof.
Raphael Emmerich
His own jest got rebounded onto him with embarassment. He rubbed the back of his head and glanced down with awkward grin. "Just get me the tutu." He managed at his own expense.
He hadn't thought about the drink causing such distaste in her. With them going different ways, he imagined it would be a non issue. Silly little man. She shared her faux-secret, and he blinked. "Um... have fun?" he hadn't any real followup to that, and watched her vanish with a mix of confusion and suspicion. As was typical, he could assume there was more going on than he had been told, but the most he could do was flash grins at the few faces in the crowd he unfortunately recognized from the facility, which spoke of falseness and the general discomfort being there, amidst the glamor and refined tastes.
His own presence was fairly casual, as to be expected of him. Still, the rattling of an explosion surely threw debris and decorations and fine glasses in shards across the room, and several more were following. The first response was to tackle the nearest elderly person to the ground in defense, which drew just as much protest. Well, they were going to go down regardless, so better from him than shrapnel. The pandemonium resulted in gritted teeth as he remained squatted. Between legs moving as quickly as the would-be prestigious crowd had in them, and just as much self-important disagreement of importances over each other--he spied masked assailants. Was THAT what he was brought here for?
Remaining crouched for a second, he ripped off the gloves he had completed his attire with. A quick series of button presses and he was taking off in a crouched sprint through the crowd as sparse wisps of fire from the explosion of energy wove a quicksilver suit around his frame. "MOVE." He bellowed through distortion, forcefully seperating the tides of men and women in panic to forge his own path in the primary noticed direction of assailants. The crowd was his biggest trouble; both protecting and getting through the pandemonium were almost contradictory tasks, so by the time he slid to the front it was almost into the face of another explosion. At fringes of heat and concussion dangerous to even a steel-wrapped form, he raised his winged arm which flared, buffering the fiercest waves. Beneath it, a set of bolos were thrown beneath the defensive covering. The rotating weapon was aimed at the nearest offender's ankles. Once horizontally reaching the balls rotated around and interlocked, with irony weight to catch their feet out from under him. "ALRIGHT, WHO'S THE WISE ASS?" He bellowed with a voice far more ripe with aggression than the man belief. Funny what a modulator could do.
How many were there? Where were they spilling from? Did they have any armored vestiges, or uniform attire? What weapons were they weilding? These were all surprisingly quick assessments to divide enemy from crowd and also try to identify his targets; even if he then realized he knew nothing about the world. -Dante.- Yes, sir. The feed from the visor helm in the now active connection ran a series of searches in the current and still growing database for any identifying marking his eyes caught and focused on.
But there was more than that. He needed to be on assault, rather than play sitting duck. Give them something else to focus on. He closed in at a sprint to the next assailant of the party, rushing head on and trusting that lower caliber weaponry would be deflected. At least, he hoped calibers were equally effective now. He'd hate to learn otherwise. Without the ability to have stored his alternate bombs on hand without a potential for a frisking, he'd have to resort to good-old fashioned brutality. A series of close quarter combat moves came from a surprisingly nimble figure. The old suit had better bullet resistance, but for his size he ducked and weaved a few attacks with the efficiency of the boxer, responding with more foreign jujitsu moves. Were martial arts even still practiced? Pressure point beneath the arm pit when raised and swung at, crippling pain. Flat palm to the plexus, almost crushing with the weight from his forearms--though not as devastating as Wraith. While still in personal codename, his current suit was clearly Dragon. Thump. One floored, a second approaching responded to with a sweep kick, and the brief distance reacted to with a high jump.
"I GUESS NOBODY TEACHES FIRE DRILLS ANYMORE, HUH?" he roared in frustration at the general situation.
Moderators: Elek Royce (played by Sadrain) Aiolia Serna (played by Sadrain)