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Thread: Furious

  1. #1
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    Furious

    Preface:

    Before I begin, I wanted to state that this is purely out of character of me, in more than one way. In my mind, this has always been a place that is separate from the realm of personal beliefs, ideas, and so forth. But recently, I've come to believe that it's never that simple.

    I've been on these boards a long time, and I've probably spent time on hiatus for even longer periods, and I've found that the reasons that I cannot write are the same in their psychological base for the reasons that I enjoy writing. I write, as a form of catharsis, as well as a form of developing a deeper understanding of who I am. If I cannot write, then it is a matter of realizing that I cannot write because I do not understand the reasons that impede my creativity on countless levels.

    And I am writing now upon the realization of this, in a full-hearted attempt to combat my psychological impediments and grow in a manner that exceeds who I am now.

    Now. The relevance to this thread.

    I always believed in the existence of individuals that are simply exceptional to the majority. This exceptionality is individual, in itself, and I do not care to clarify for the sake of corrupting its vague nature. I write, to explore the archetypes of the heroes that I believe in. The characters, that I hope to find in myself, so that I too might demonstrate some virtue that is exceptional.

    I am not the most talented writer on these boards, but every time I do write, I can proudly say that there is some fiber of my being invested in every line of ink on the page. That I bleed myself upon these boards in order to truly live and breathe. And when I could not write, it was because I was scared to live up to my own ideals. I needed affirmation of my beliefs outside the realm of writing in order to return to it.

    In terms of this thread, I only hope to explore precisely what I've always done. To define the significance of the epic, as a tale that envelops the very pit of our own being. And more importantly, to inspire the same from others. And together, be a part of something that perpetually sparks joy and brilliance within ourselves. To challenge each other in tests that we could never perform upon ourselves.

    In other words. This thread is me. As usual, I hope to advance a plot that resonates within myself, but I hope for every form of diversion. I expect the plot to change and grow beyond whatever I initially imagine. It's frustrating for me, to say the least, yet it is inspiring and emboldens me in a way that I would never achieve writing my own story and for that, I always have you fellow players and writers to thank.

    Follow along the scheme that I've laid out for a while. And when the time comes, I shall lay down my usual ground rules and give a little more basic background. But, please, give it consideration, and hopefully you will join me.

  2. #2
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    --

    It was a cold evening for what had been just been a hot summer day. But then, that's just how the weather shifted in the Dice. It was the same as the luck shifted in the casinos, or the temperament of a woman.

    But to walk along that analogy, going from hot to cold didn't mean that all the passion had left a woman. Fiery hot passion, in the hands of the professional, could be just as easily wrapped and concealed in the smooth, definitive mechanisms of a business.

    For Na'ila, her business was assassination. She sat on the roof, staring down the scope of a high powered rifle, the likes of which were beyond top secret. The rifle itself was enormous, and she was leaning against a smokestack on a roof, the bulk of the gun between her outspread legs but continued outwards to a grand total of 5 ft.

    Nothing but business. She was dressed in a dark tight-fitting jumpsuit, which covered almost the entirety of her body ending in a high collar. It had wires built into the arm that were designed to restrict her arm movements, lest the slightest twinge of apprehension make her miss her mark. To cover her face, she work an elegant mask, as black as the rest of her outfit and revealing little else but glittering hazel eyes.

    As she stared down the scope at the target, she was compulsively reminded of Calvin the Giant. They shared the same sort of bristly square jawline, and a steep furrowed brow. True to his name, Calvin had been a massive man. This target was much shorter, and slimmer. Calvin was used to abusing his power for the sake of the company of expensive call girls. As far as she knew, the only real obvious vice that this target had was being a workaholic, other than occasional glass of expensive scotch. Calvin had been a memorable target. He was a high-level government official, and killing him had put Nix on the map. And of course that was the same night she met Haydn Alighieri.

    --

    It had been lightly raining that night and it had clung to her hair and clothes in a warm mist. But these little hindrances were nothing in the face of her long list of eliminations. Nevertheless, even experience was tempered by foolhardy humanity. She had taken the assignment from one of her favorite clients: a man who was full of senseless pride and actually indulged in calling himself Lucifer. Favoritism is a natural instinct: a person favors those who he admires, respects, and is most similar to.

    She liked Lucifer primarily because he paid extraordinarily well. But she also enjoyed his extravagance. He paid her well because he enjoyed flaunting his wealth. He was the sort of man that fed himself upon the view of himself in others' eyes. In her eyes, he was a gentleman with more aces hidden up his sleeve than could possibly fit. A proficient gambler, a heavy drinker, and a dastardly womanizer, he was the sort of man who do anything he wanted to change your opinion of him. It was his driving momentum that inevitably drew her to him, and she had made the unprofessional mistake of ending up in his bed.

    His real name was Linus Gregor, and for all his talents, she was certain that in the end her lack of professionalism had become a mutual situation. So one night in bed, when he had brought up his troubles with Calvin, it was Na'ila who offered up the idea.

    "Darling, I'm pretty sure you don't know what you're talking about. You can't just go around killing Tax Collectors. That'll bring down the whole lot of them on our heads."

    He had a certain southern drawl to his speech that Na'ila was certain was purely affected. He was a European born and bred. He had only recently come to the states for the sake of business.

    "Call Dan. He'll make the paperwork lead to Jonathan Destrier. It won't even touch you, baby." Na'ila said "baby" in a tone that was strictly foreign, in a way that conveyed both disgust for the American language, yet subtly mixed with the necessary hint of affection.

    He looked at her calmly with his pale blue eyes set in a distinguished, yet simultaneously boyish face. Only one instance of his many indiscreet paradoxes. "Well, if you think you can do it."

    "Of course, I can."

    So Na'ila, taking into the account the rain, the wind, the angle, the speed of the bullet, and any changes in movement of the target even as he wildly giggled amidst his hired harem, fired, and Calvin the Giant fell. However, she hardly had the time to smile, much less celebrate.

    "I never liked the guy much anyway." The voice came from right beside her and Na'ila reached for her pistol, quickly firing off two shots in the direction, but she was already too late. She was quickly ambushed and disarmed with swift movements before she even had a chance to take a look at her.

    "So you're Kite," her assailant said, revealing her call-name as he were merely checking off items on a grocery list.. She made a quick inventory. He was dressed in jeans and an untucked, button-down striped shirt, as if he had just come back home from a relaxed day at a boring job. The difference was that he was holding her gun in his hand.

    "Who are you?" she demanded, adrenaline rushing. She had never been caught before.

    "I'm Haydn. You just murdered my partner."

    "You're a Tax Collector?" Her disbelief was evident. "You hardly look a day over 16."

    Haydn gave her a disappointed look. "Well, I wasn't too mad about the partner thing, but the whole talking about my age is a pet peeve of mine."

    "What do you want from me?" Na'ila asked. She had little hope of getting away. The way he had snuck up on her was profound evidence of his abilities.

    "Well, like I said, I don't really care about Calvin. But nevertheless, my bosses aren't likely going to be too pleased. I'm going to have to arrest you, of course. I'm going to quietly lead you downstairs where this is a discreet car waiting for us. We'll be driven to the airport, and you'll disappear as Linus had suggested you do after this job. He won't know the difference." His tone was even, casual, if not entirely bored.

    Na'ila narrowed her eyes. "You plan on using me to get to Linus."

    "Well, yes. But you'll soon realize that Linus isn't what you think he is."

    The choice of word, "what," did not escape Na'ila. But he did. He moved like a wraith, sneaking around her field of vision. His arm slipped around her neck and squeezed. Na'ila fought, her fingers stretched backwards, ripping at his ears, but he merely tightened his hold and immediately she blacked out.

    --

    What Na'ila didn't know about the Tax Collectors could have filled several encyclopedia, but she spent the next half dozen years training under a man who had been just like her.

    Gerald Gade was an executioner, although an entirely more brutal sort. The man had been a nut, and had stalked the streets of Brand New for several years, filtering through the worst scum before Federal Investigators (FI) found him. For a few years, he had been employed by a small time mob as a hit-man. He had been excrutiatingly good at his job, but before they could promote him in the ranks, he turned on them, obliterating the mob in its entirety.

    For the longest time, the FI was even hestitant to pursue the man for two main reasons. The first being that all those he killed were generally of a higher priority than he was. Gade had developed a taste for murdering murderers. But Gade's inevitable fate would that the lone tiger stands out the most. However, the second reason that delayed his arrest was the fact that Gade was a kind of savant for predicting the movements of the FI. For the 5 years that he evaded the FI, it was as if this ability was purely unintentional, and for the most extraordinary part, completely harmless. In the end, they dubbed him the Vigilante Serial Killer, until the day he stepped into the City Mayor's office and decapitated the mayor's office.

    Afterwards, he allowed himself to be led away, murmuring little else than "My guilt is absolved by the guilt of others." He spent another six years of his life in prison until some talent in the TC office started hand-picking criminals for a very secret training program. At which point he disappearred.

    When he emerged back on the scene as a TC, nobody would've have guessed it was the same man. Retaining soft-spoken nature, and enormous figure, Gade had assumed his present alias with a new, altered face. Although, if there was one position that no one would have originally passed onto Gade, it was that of teaching new "recruits."

    "Nix," Gade called to her. She was asleep atop her books. Her immediate response was appropriate. "Damnit. What time is it?"

    "Nearly midnight."

    She sighed,"That means I have still have 8 hours to cram. Thanks for waking me." She turned back to her books. Gade merely stood guard.

    Finally, she turned back to him. "God, don't you sleep? I thought this material was hellishly boring, but I can't imagine that watching me pore over them is much more excitiing."

    Gade shrugged. "You will do fine on your test." He spoke slowly, as each word was a fossil being unearthed with systematic precision. He thought a little more and added, "You should sleep."

    "Let me ask you something, Gade." Na'ila demanded. Gade nodded almost imperceptibly. "How do you go from being a murderer to this work? Half of this is actuarial work. Crunching numbers. Assessing risk. It's bull**** math. Fortunately, it's easy, but it feels as if it's a waste of our talents."

    Gade said nothing, but it was as if his gaze upon her had shifted to a point beyond her. At this point Na'ila was used to it and waited patiently for his answer, spinning her pencil as she jotted down an additional note.

    Finally: "Because it is establishing order in a world of chaos."

    She looked at him for a moment longer and went back to her books. And then, she added, "That's it?"

    Gade shrugged again. "It is also better than prison. I enjoy my work."

    At this Na'ila smiled. "Thanks, Gade. Go on to sleep. I'll cram a little more and then go to bed."

    --

    "Establishing order," she whispered and pulled the trigger. The bullet teleported through the night, and created a hole in the neck of Christian Brutus Mitchell, the CEO of the CBM Holding Company.

    The cold resolution of a woman was merely fiery passion tempered into a formidable weapon.

    --

    The assassination of the leader of the CBM Holding Company crushed stocks on the Brand New Stock Exchange. Rumors of the involvement with the mob in Dice were, of course, recovered, dusted off and proclaimed through the news networks like fire. The vast majority of CBM's board resigned. At least one turned himself into the witness protection program. Files were surrended to the TC, and their case was quickly settled and back taxes were swiftly paid. At which point, the Tax Collectors disappearred as if they had never been there in the first place.

    For a while the Dice would know a little calm in the aftermath of a storm.

    --

    The funeral was a quiet affair. CBM had no family to speak and fewer friends. A few employees that felt obligated showed up, and were surprised to find among the small number of mourners, the famous face of Linus Gregor.

    Linus, in the last half-dozen years, had emerged as a multi-million dollar playboy known for spending his nights endlessly drinking with beautiful women, and his days behind the scenes managing the three most profitable casinos in the Dice: The Infamous, Ragnorak, and Brand New 2. His favorite was Ragnorak, a crimson and ebony, futuristic-themed park that attracted the newly rich like honey for flies. Outfitted with a den of famous magicians, rockstars, and night clubs, it attracted the best gamblers in the Circle.

    It was rumored that he had never been seen in the daylight, therefore his presence at the funeral was a pure anomaly. Nevertheless, those who saw him didn't have a chance to speculate very long. He disappeared long before the priest began to read a single word.

    --

  3. #3
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    OOC:

    Background: For those of you who are familiar, this is based on the Fast and Furious, the previous thread of mine. I lost the old data (which I originally thought I had), so I'm relying on my shoddy memory for some things.

    I've advanced the plot a bit, and obviously changed things around. But more or less, we're starting fresh. I shall be bringing back other characters, but so far I've only presented a faction, the Tax Collectors.

    Those of you who are unfamiliar with this world, it's more or less the present. Take some liberties with the technology, as it would be fun to do in a semi sci-fi thread. I'll sooner or later be taking much bigger liberties, but until then, please follow my lead in that realm.

    Ground rules:

    A. I have final say in all matters. Simply because arguments occasionally arise and it's simply easier to have one person settle things. I don't intend to abuse this power in any fashion. If there is something you truly disagree with me, for whatever reason, please email me at ryren @ uchicago <dot> edu. I'd be glad to talk to you regardless of issues.

    B. Feel free to play a little with other people's characters. Take liberties. Try to stay true to their character. However, the original owner is unhappy with developments, they have the ability to correct any previous characterizations made by other parties.

    C. I prefer to not have an OOC thread. If you have to make some small OOC comment, I'd prefer you tagged it onto a much longer IC post. If there's an emergency, just post it in this thread.

    Personally, I just believe that we start chatter on OOC to give ourselves excuses to not post IC and absolve ourselves of that obligation and responsibility. If you can't post, don't post and feel guilty. If you can post, post. I'm not going to let you get away with not posting, and yet not feel guilty so you end up forgetting about it all.

    If the vast majority really wants an OOC thread, create it yourselves, but I highly discourage it.

    D. No sign-ups. No character sheets. Just start posting.

    E. Have fun, but attempt to challenge yourselves and your fellow-writers to do their best. Much easier said than done, I know. But try anyways.

  4. #4
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    Lindsey (Min Sun) Song

    An angry red car pulled up outside of Ragnarok. It was an RX-8 with white stripes and red lights glowing from underneath. The first door to be opened was the driver seat. A young girl stepped out, dressed in a red satin creation. Her hair was black and kept in a short page cropped short in the neck, where one side followed her slender jaw line and the right side had been cut with a sharper angle ending just above her clavicle. On her feet she wore a pair of well matched red high heels, making her even taller than she already was. She looked at the entrance of Ragnarok where the long line of people almost looked like a live snake licking its body around the corner. She took a deep breath of the clear air and smiled with content.

    Dice, the city that never slept. It suited Lindsey perfect, since she seldom did sleep at night. Her nights had always been dedicated to doing the town (or someone) in one way or other. With her background, or rather with her older siblings, the Song twins, she had practically grown up on the streets of Dice. That meant of course not actually growing up on the street as in having no home. No she had a home, a very grand flat of her own in the northern east part of town, Korea town.

    She threw a contemptous look at the red car as she and her girlfriends headed for the entrance, the colour and ugly stripes mocking her. The RX-8 was her first car, well not the first car she owned like many would associate those words with, but the first car she had won. She hadn't had time to repaint the ugly thing yet to the dark violet associated with her clan, and since it was her first car she couldn't just leave it home in the garage just for being ugly. Lindsey's ego prohibited her for that. She had won it, and she wanted to brag. She had been racing for a couple of years now, but she had firmly decided that she wanted to do it on her own. No money or cars to back her up from the family nor the Big C. This had not been her first race to win, but rather the first race where she had been able to bet a pink slip. The previously races had been cash only, where she had driven others' cars taking a percentage of the winnings.

    "Here Sam," she yelled with a clear voice as she threw the keys to one of familliar faces standing in the line. He catched them elegantly and nodded, knowing that he was supposed to park the car for them. With a clear disappointment in his eyes he left his spot in the queue. Lindsey gave him a smile in return, knowing that he was one that wouldn't refuse her, even if it did mean standing almost an hour more in the line. Standing in lines though weren't for her.

    "Hey Big D," she greeted one of the guards by the door.

    "Min Sun, a bright ray of light as always!" he said jokingly as he let her and her friends by. She slipped him a little something, as she brushed her hands on his chest, as thanks. Lindsey, or Min Sun as she was known as on the streets, had perhaps been illegaly visiting the clubs before she had turned 21 last month. That didn't bother the crowd at Ragnarok though since girls like her lured in the money-whales. Plus she wasn't a half bad player herself with the C backing her up.
    Last edited by SoHee; 11-09-2008 at 18:17.

  5. #5
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    Dante Kane

    (Alright, damnit, I couldn't wait any longer haha)

    A sleek glossy-black coupe slid down the highway, avoiding the other drivers with ease and finesse, earning the driver many honks and shouts of annoyance. The driver merely smiled and pushed the car faster. As it flew past, they can just barely make out a dark, dark red blur of the kanji lettering 'Freedom' 'Loyalty 'Strength' born across the door right under the bottom of the window on both the driver and passenger sides. Not long later, the same car glided into a parking space and several people walked forward.

    The doors opened, both at the same time, and out of what would traditionally be the passenger side of the car (hint: Japanese made car) emerged the driver standing at 180cm and dressed in nearly all black. The black pants were worn loose and made of a soft yet surprisingly strong and resilient material, and the shirt was of similar design though the fabric was a bit thicker yet of the same type and was patterned with a seemingly random yet pleasant design with a overall black with deep azure coloring. Over the shirt was worn a light leather jacket which was void of insignia of any type. The figure turned and watched the on comers through a pair of hand crafted and specially made sleek black sunglasses. They numbered six with an even mix of men and women, and all stopped five feet from him, various weapons on their persons.

    "I was wondering when the welcome party would get here." the driver said in an obviously synthesized and masked voice though there was no modulator in sight. The seven figures stood there for several long moments, just watching across the pavement. A good ol' Mexican standoff it would seem, perfect. One of the men, a tall burly SoB with thick arms and various scars and tattoos, stepped forward and punched the figure on the shoulder, rocking him back only slightly even though he had put some strength into it. "Quit yer playing, Dante." he said in a deep bass rumble, though the humor was evident, "Took -you- long enough to get 'ere." At that Dante Kane grinned, slapping the man on the shoulder, "Now now big guy, never any worries with me, neh?" he laughed and walked forward, looking at the others in turn. He upturned his hands slightly and said innocently "What?" with a childish grin and they shook their heads.

    "It's good to have you back, Dante." the shortest of the seven racers said, in a light and airy female voice. "It's good to be back, Lily." Dante replied seriously and was suddenly lurched forward as the big brute grabbed him around the shoulders and propelled him towards the nearby garage door. "C'mon in now. We been eager to hear 'bout what you been up to." Grizzly, as the big guy was aptly called, said. "Yeah, we have." a male voice said, this one belonging to Tekk, the gearhead of the group. Well, they were all gearheads so to speak but that's not the point. "It's been, what, three years?"

    Dante nodded as he plunked down into his favorite chair, "Thanks for keeping this one 'round guys." he said and turned to look at them again, "But yeah, it has. Look, I'm sorry it's..." Dante began, but was cut-off by a lean yet fit and nicely-toned female slid into a seat nearby. Her hair was long and sleek, and blacker than the tires on the cars they drove. Her eyes were almond shaped and dark, hinting to her almost fully Japanese and Filipino ancestry, and she had a set of full dark lips which smiled at him. "Don't apologize onore. We know you were just out to please yourself." she said, and though her words had some bite she was playful all the same. "Ouch. We hello to you too, Asuka. Or do you still prefer Passion?" he grinned with a wink and she smirked. "Always the charmer, Dante." she said, shaking her head and leaning back in the chair. "Alright alright." Grizzly said, "Now tell us what's been up wit ya or else I'll hafta beat it out ya." he growled, shaking a fist in mock anger.

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Hours later, Dante was alone in another part of the garage. He was standing in the car storage section drinking a beer and thinking out over not just the past years he was gone, but before he had left. "Hello Asuka." he said as he heard footsteps behind him, and they stopped just behind his back. "You'll never cease to amaze me." she said with amusement, moving gracefully forward and leaning her elbows against the high railing. Dante smiled as he looked at her in silence, he had be leaning back against the wall which gave him a prime view of Asuka's rear. Knowing her, it was intentional.

    Taking a sip he grinned and stepped forward, moving to stand next to her at a slight distance, gazing over the cars and other vehicles below. "I see you still like that fragrance." he said as a simple reply. The scent of it was rather alluring, one might say intoxicating, and she chuckled softly. "Old habits die hard." she said almost wistfully as she smiled. Dante had been the one to give her the original bottle perhaps a year before he left Dice. The memory of that day was still bright, in both of their minds, and Asuka stood straight, finally turning to face him.

    "You know that nobody blames you." she began softly, looking slightly up at him given the few inches he had on her. Dante set down his beer on the railing, barely thick enough to balance it, and looked over. "I know what you are going to say, and please.... don't." he replied, looking down at the ground below. The silence lingered as she watched him, unsure if she should continue, though he beat her to it after a minute. "I don't need any more reminders or kind words or anything about it. What happened, happened." his hand flew out, snatching up the bottle as it fell to the ground, bringing it back up. "I'm sorry, Dante, but not all of us can just accept..." she began, her temper flaring as she glared at him. Her words halted, however, as he turned to her with a smile, his eyes bright with their usual intensity.

    Danted stepped forward, placing his hand on her upper arm as he stopped. "Please don't misinterpret my words, Asuka." he said quietly, his words cutting right through her fiery temper as she gazed into his face. "And.... Thank you." he added, giving her arm a slight squeeze before walking off. Asuka watched him leave, absently raising a hand to the spot his hand had touched. She could still feel it's warmth as she left the garage not long later.

  6. #6
    Post Fiend Shari Tana's Avatar
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    Yamato Jun

    It wasn't unusual for Jun to find himself at the elegent, yet modern, Ragnarok casino and hotel. One of many establishments owned by the famous Linus Gregor. A sufficiently ominous name for one who fancies himself as Lucifer. He, however, was not Jun's purpose for being here. The Ragnarok, also appropriately named, was frequented not only by the rich and powerful of the Brand New elite, but also its dangerous and equally rich and powerful underworld crime lords. Such a designation was not Jun's honor, but that of his employer, Katsumoto Yuri. At the moment, Katsumoto was having a less than friendly meeting with one of his, shall we say, associates.

    Jun fully expected someone to end up on the business end of his .45 semi-automatic or the ninjatō he carried quite comfortably across his back beneath the black overcoat he wore over a business suit, also black. Completeing his ironically formal attire was a white dress shirt, red tie, and polished shoes. Jun often sighed at how he looked much more like a stock broker than a ruthless hitman for one of the most powerful cartels in Dice. Ruthlessness, often seen as a negetive quality, was necessary for Jun and just about every other person who found thier calling in Dice, despite the sun's place in the sky. From the street-level racers of the underworld, to men like Katsumoto and Linus Gregor; ruthlessness, caution, self-preservation and street knowledge were second-nature.

    Katsumoto emerged from the soundproof, bullet-proof, and other types of security-proofed room in which he held his meeting. He looked appropriately frustrated, but at least the poor sap with whom he was talking was still alive. Jun bowed his head slightly as Katsumoto paused outside the door, as did the three other bodyguards there with him. One of the others handed the aged man his coat, and Katsumoto turned to Jun.

    "Mr. Yamato," he began. His japanese accent was once very obvious, but now it was quite subdued, "It seems my need of your services are suspended for the night. I've had enough of those who seem to think they are immune to my inluence yet can still profit from my protection. The night is yours, see me in the morning, will you?"

    With that Katsumoto headed for the garage in the company of his bodyguards, but his words were transparant. Jun got the message. Katsumoto was insulted by the wretch from his meeting, and was no longer intrested in continuing thier business together. Jun headed downstairs into the casino. He looked around the impressive room. Many people lost a lot of money here, but for some reason, continued to visit. For instance, it was not the first time Jun saw the group of four Korean girls who just entered. He nad no reason to consider them a threat, and therefore knew little about them. He did know they were street racers, but most could tell that from the variety of cars they arrived in. Their relatively small clan had some noteriety, but as far as Jun knew, they were mostly legitimate. Thier business consisted mainly of winning cars and selling them or giving them to fellow clanmates. It was a simpler life than what Jun lived. One he did not envy, but would nonetheless be curious to know how different his life would have been if he chose a similar path.

    His target emerged from the above meeting room looking nervous. Small beads of sweat were drying on his brow. He was a Dice native, and had two thuggish bodyguards with him. He didn't look apprehensive, merely as if he escaped a deathblow. Little did he know it had yet to be given. Afterall, Katsumoto rarely went into these meetings without knowing exactly what he wanted to happen. And if that didn't happen, there was no alternative. Either Jun or someone like him would take the next step, and Jun only knew one dance. The man had a room in the hotel, and it was likely that is where he would spend the night, though Jun did not know which room. The group of Korean girls passed Jun. They were talking among themselves, and Jun wasn't too obsessed with his job to not take a moment to admire their more feminine features. They were probably used to the attention, judging from the return looks he recieved. Perhaps on a different night (namely, one in which the fellow upstaris had not insulted his boss) Jun might persue the oppertunity, but his obligation to Katsumoto was far too important to ignore. Instead, he gave the girls a grin and looked towards the escalator.

    At the top, he saw his target moving down to the lobbey having a hushed, but expressive conversation with his bodyguards. It seemed they were actually his partners, and that they thought they were in the clear now. They continued towards the elevators leading to the hotel rooms, and Jun was presented with a problem. Modern elevators did not have a little needle at the top showing on what floor the thing came to rest. Additionally, this was in internal elevator, and therefore watching it from the outside and counting the floors was impossible. Jun considered the stairs, but unless it stopped at every level, or one not above the fifth, it would pass his rate of climb and the time it would take to look in each hallway. Jun sighed. He didn't like having to pay for information from the hotel clerk to gain the room number. And there was always the indiscriminately small chance that the clerk had been paid off. Besides, Katsumoto would already have to pay respect money to Mr. Gregor for staging a killing in his casino lest he end up next on Lucifer's funeral list.

    As luck would have it, Jun's target parted from the company of his partners and decided to hit the casino floor. He headed towards the casino cage to buy chips. Coincidentally, the group of Korean girls Jun had admired recieved the same admiration from his mark. Jun smirked. The group had stopped to discuss what they would do first, and Jun took this oppertunity. Two of the girls parted the group to buy chips, leaving only the driver and one of her friends to wait for them. Jun removed the sleek black sunglasses from his face and slid them into an internal pocket on his overcoat.

    The girl he chose didn't matter. They were all pretty enough to flatter his less than remarkable target into giving up his room number. Jun's appearance was too suspicious for them to suspect anything other than the fact that Jun was not on friendly terms with this fellow, so he decided not to try and play any games with the girls.

    "Evening ladies," he spoke in near-perfect English. His japanese accent was less noticable than Katsumoto's, but was still there, "I have a problem that requires your... expertise, if you will." He withdrew no less than three hundred dollars from his pocket and flashed it before them. "Interested?"
    Last edited by Shari Tana; 11-09-2008 at 22:43.

  7. #7
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    OOC: Some quick clarifications, as I think I failed to explain some things clearly.

    First. Linus Gregor was not responsible for the death of Christian Brutus Mitchell, in any manner. Although suspicions are entirely fair, and suggested.

    Second. Brand New is an entirely different city from Dice. The world I've attempted to describe is pretty much the US, for now. Brand New is merely my rendition of New York City (similarly the Brand New Stock Exchange is my fantasy equivalent of the NYSE). Dice is actually Kain's Paradise, which is my rendition of Las Vegas and Sin City. Although it obviously draws from a lot different other cities, namely Chicago, with which I'm most familiar.

    Third: The Tax Collectors, I have not explained very clearly, especially if you have not seen the previous thread. They are a branch of the government, and the actual collectors are more or less government sanctioned killers. They are a newly emerging discipline within the government itself that is sort of modeled off of a 1984 society. Further details and elaborations will be written in IC.

    Before I continue:

    I'd also like to welcome the both of you. I highly appreciate your presence and your writing.

    This thread itself is modeled off of several inspirations. The Fast and the Furious being among the top of the list, but it's quickly spread from that. Sin City and the Anne Rice vampire also rank near the top of the list. Perhaps my other inspirations will become evident as I continue.

    IC: Linus spent the evening in his room, knowing very well that the death of Brutus was an emphatic message from the Tax Collectors. Half a dozen years ago when he had asked Na'ila to eliminate Calvin, he had an idea what it would bring upon him, despite the painstaking diligence he had put forth in order to avoid such disaster.

    He had thought that losing Na'ila would be the worst thing that could happen to him. But alas, it appeared that it would only be the tip of the iceberg. They had dropped their investigations against him, but it appeared that they were merely making a long, but very tactical retreat.

    When the Tax Collectors had arrived in the last month to investigate the CBM Holding Company, he had held his breath and tip-toed in their wake, ceasing the vast majority of his illicit activity, as did most of those who had the same instincts. The TC were not the sort to wait for justice. They created it.

    No one knew when the Tax Collection ever began. It was rumored that it had been started by a group of conservative senators that bandied around the idea the White House for decades before it began to be implemented. And now, they were a terror. Unfortunately, they were also a very effective terror. In essence, they were a very well educated, incredibly-skilled government-sanctioned mob. Nothing on the surface in which they engaged was actually illegal, but things such as the disappearance of corrupt officials, business men, etc, significantly increased almost as soon as the Tax Collection solidified their jurisdiction, which seemed to be nearly all things.

    And the world gradually changed. The corrupt dealings of the corporate world in the United State (ooc: note the lack of the letter s) suddenly took a back-seat to the importance of paying taxes and avoiding the Collection. Government revenue went up, social reform programs were suddenly well financed. Things were very much improving for the better.

    Nevertheless, old habits die hard. And those such as Linus Gregor who had a nearly unsustainable list of old and bad habits would continue to rule their undergrounds that only dug deeper.

    "Call Kincaid." He stated, his airy voice commanding his electronic phone. It buzzed at the recognition of the command, but before it began dialing Kincaid stormed into the office.

    "Mr. Gregor. It appears that Mr. Katsumoto is downstairs. I'm unsure of why he is here, but since you asked to be informed of all ... dealings in the casino. We want to be extra safe to limit the amount of ... mishaps while - in the aftermath of such tragedy."

    Linus smiled a little. That's what he loved about Kincaid. Always so delicate in his precision. Each choice of word was carefully selected, as if each were an expensive, rare bottle of wine. Kincaid's phone rang. He paused to look at it before returning his attention to Linus.

    "You called for something else?"

    "Yes. I want you to put me into touch with the Brahma Initiative. I need to hire some consultants."

    Kincaid looked appalled, and worked quickly to clear the look of shock off of his face. "Mr. Gregor, you understand that the Brahma Initiative doesn't look kindly upon ... your kind."

    "I am well aware of what the Initiative is, Kincaid. Spiritual descendants of Van Helsing, who are out for my head among other things. Nevertheless, I require their expertise. Channel your request through a variety of channels so they don't know that it's me. Pay them whatever you wish."

    "And what exactly do you want from them?"

    "I need to find a woman."

    "Mi'lord. I can easily find you a woman for the night. That is -"

    "No, Kincaid. I would like to know what happened to Na'ila."

    Kincaid paused. A certain rigidity swept through his expression and hardened in his eyes.

    "I thought that you put her behind you. The Collection left only recently. Are you sure it is wise to put forth that kind of investigation so soon?"

    Linus did not bother to look at his major-domo. "Yes." He said simply. "I've heard good things about this Gideon character. If you have a chance to request a specific consultant, I'd like to hire him."

    "Of course, Mr. Gregor."

    "And about Mr. Katsumoto, send a courier to fetch him. I'd like to speak to him about a few investments that I'd like to make in Japan."

    "Yes, Mr. Gregor."

  8. #8
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    Lindsey (Min Sun) Song

    OOC: Oh sorry, I got confused. I thought we were actually in Dice atm, but it's Brand New then?

    IC: Ragnarok was as always filled with people. Lindsey and her friends immediately went for the casino-floor, a place good as any to start their evening out.

    "Hana, go pick out our usual stack," she called out to the shortest of the two who were quickly accompanied by Jin, leaving Lindsey and Tory Lee to look out at the many tables, searching for their first target.

    "I feel like 21," Linsey told Tory, one of her oldest friends and also a member of the Clan. The ruby eye of the chimaera, her clan's crest, she wore around her neck almost seemed to blink at Tory by the reflected light.

    Tory shrugged in response as she spotted a group of men oogling them, rolling her eyes slightly at their obvious staring.

    "Sure, why not? I'll go get us a good table," she said just as a well dressed guy approached them.

    "Evening ladies."

    Tory merely waved as a brief greeting before disappearing in the crowd. Lindsey couldn't help but to notice the slight accent he had. Her final response was perhaps not what he had expected as she laughed at him.

    "300 dollars?" she said, raising a thin eyebrow at him while studying him abit more closely. Not too shabby, although she wasn't sure she really appreciated his stiff appearance. "You think I look like a cheap hoe? Puh-lease. I have better things to do than to play a bussiness man's toy. If you want a solution to your little problem," she pointedly looked down at his package, "then I suggest head down to the red light district."

  9. #9
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    Dante Kane

    (Yeah, now I am confused lol I'm just gonna play things like we're in Dice, it's easier on my brain that way. It can all be fixed later if we are wrong XD)

    The afternoon dragged onward, slowly growing cooler as the sun arced through the sky. The gang was out in the yard behind the rather large shop, tossing a ball around. Business had been slow for the past few days, which was very strange. While not the most widely known car shop in Dice, Black Lotus was very popular, especially with the racing crowd. They specialized in all sorts of modifications, including those of questionable legality. That sort of thing, however, was open to very select customers, as the partners of the business were not stupid. They never did anything that would attract attention to themselves, and Dante had established a firm rule of keeping their books more or less clean, enough in the middle to look normal and free of suspicion of being too clean to outright dirty. After all, you never know just when the TC might decide to point their beady eyes your way.

    They had just finished up a decent order on a couple cars that morning, though they expected more as the next race was upcoming. The shop wasn't in the heart of the city, rather it was in the outskirts, keeping them free of the major businesses and scum of the higher ups. As for the clans, well, that was a different story altogether. No one really understood why, but the clans never put any pressure on their shop. In fact, though they were right on the border of the Chimaera territory, neither the Chimaera nor the other clans leadership tried to pull them into their conflicts, or even hassled them in any way. Dante kept a firm hold on the business before he left, and they had seen to it that those around them knew it would stay that way. And so it was that, in all of the city, the Black Lotus was possibly the one shop that was completely neutral of any clan rivalries.

    Dante preferred it that way. He was the type that gave respect where it was given, and never sought to escalate, or create, a conflict. He believed it was better to work together than it was to remain divided. Of course, he didn't try telling any of the clans that, or rather he didn't try to influence them in that way. Dante would be a fool to think that his simple words would change the Dice. But that suited him just fine, as long as they were left in peace he wouldn't care one way or the other. Some people might call it apathy, however, Dante and his team considered it good business sense.

    And so it was that, amidst the conflict around them, Dante's, well, family was relaxing outside and having a grand time. Dante was perched atop a couple of old cars and parts and junk that had been stacked up, watching over them as always. He always reminded them of a hawk guarding over his brood when he did that. Grizzly grinned as he looked up, being the one with the football at the moment, and saw Dante gazing off in a different direction. With a flick of his wrist he sent the ball zooming through the air towards Dante's head. A moment before impact, his hands shot up and gripped it, his body unmoved save for that motion.

    "Well yer ain't rusty, that fer sure." Grizzly rumbled a laugh. "C'mon Grizz, you know you can't catch Dante like that." Lily giggled, poking her tongue at the burly man. The others merely laughed as Dante flipped the ball back to him and hopped to the ground. "Well it's not hard," Dante grinned, "You are getting old, after all." he said to Grizzling, who scowled. "'ey dere now. Watch yer mouth!" he growled, throwing a mock punch at Dante's face, who grinned and sidestepped.

    They both grinned, and Dante stepped past him in the direction of the garage. "Anybody want a beer?" he called, received a chorus of various affirmations. He grinned, waving over his shoulder to them, having known that answer long beforehand. He had managed to bring back several cases of hard to find beer, among other things, and they had taken to it very quickly. It wasn't the sort of thing you could just go to the store and buy, but Dante always seemed to have some sort of connection for everything. He had just entered the building when he heard the sound of the front door's opening, and he looked up. Expecting a new, or old, customer, he gladly headed for the front to see who it was.

    (mostly filler, and to make sure I keep posting, but had some background info to establish as well, plus a free opening for anyone lol)
    Last edited by LordKain; 15-01-2009 at 00:16.

  10. #10
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    OOC: Again. Some clarifications. I apologize for the confusions, but we are certainly in the Dice. My references to Brand New are merely my attempt at fleshing out the world beyond Dice. That's all.

    Also. The Collection is not simple law enforcement. There are still cops for that. The Tax Collection specializes in very simply taxes, most often the corporate sort. If one small business is not filing things accurately, you might get a visit from a lowly agent of the more bureaucratic sort.

    IC: Gideon was at the office when he received the call. A surly voice, from a reliable source, indicated that he had spoken with Gideon's superiors, and they had indicated Gideon would be available for a special assignment. Was this correct?

    "Yes."

    It would be a difficult task, and unique from his regular assignments.

    "I understand."

    He was requested to look for a woman. She was presumably dead, but confirmation was desired. Details would be forthcoming by courier.

    "That is all?"

    Yes. It is to be understood that the task is much more difficult than it sounds, especially for one with your talents. The request is simply that the task be completed as soon as possible.

    "Understood."

    He hung up the phone and immediately descended the elevator. In the garage was his very unprofessional car waiting for him, heavy Japanese muscle in the form of a dark blue Mitsubishi Lancer. He wasn't going to bother to wait for a courier, as he knew that the message would get to him rapidly no matter where he was. That was just the way the Initiative worked.

    Within rapid minutes dashing through traffic, Gideon found himself at the Black Lotus, knocking at the door as a frequent customer.

    He smiled as he saw Dante. "Dante. I would like your crew to give my car the basic run through. Check everything. I want it pristine for the race."

  11. #11
    Post Fiend Shari Tana's Avatar
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    Yamato Jun

    The right corner of Jun's lip twitched slightly at her remark, but perhaps his wording was insufficient. He wasn't quite used to dealing with women, having few girlfriends in his lifetime, and none of them very serious relationships. Jun was something of a loner, but necessarily so. He could not afford to have someone who coud be used against him or to get close enough to spy. Paranoia was synonomus with survival in Dice.

    "I think you may have misunderstood, but I should have known better than to offer you so little. The assistance I need does not involve myself or anything under our clothes," though Jun wasn't opposed to the idea. He reached again in his pocket, this time pulling out a roll of 100s. He wasn't sure how many there were, but it was at least a thousand. He grabbed her wrist, not too agressively and in gentle manner and dropped the roll into her palm before releasing it. "I need you only to find out the room number of the gentleman in front of your friends in the cashier's line."

    He nodded his head towards the two girls that had seperated from her. The man in question was finishing his transaction and Jun was running out of time. "I will be in the hotel bar, having a well deserved drink. Find me there, and bring either his room number or the money I've given you. Enjoy your night, Min Sun." He picked up the name from the two Korean symbols on a piece of jewelry she wore.

    Jun slid the glasses back out from his pocket as he turned, not giving the girl the option to refuse, but rather letting her hold the money and toss the thought around. After all, it was very easy money to ask one simple question, and one thousand dollars was pretty much the standard rate for sub-standard information. The bar was next to the casino and had a view of the escalators. With any luck, Min Sun would have the information before the mark decided to call it a night. Then Jun could wait comfortably in the man's room instead of trying to break in while he was already inside.

    Jun sat at the bar and ordered a glass of bourbon. No sooner did he recieve his drink did his cell phone ring. He answered and had a quick conversation in japanese with the person on the other end. Apparantly, Katsumoto was contaced by a person working for Mr. Gregor. It seemed the casino tyrant could not be patient and wait for his tribute pay. Or it was something else entirely. Jun would clean up his business here, since paying tribute would actually require him doing something illegal, then head up to see Lucifer. Jun chuckled to himself at the irony of that last thought.
    "I am the brightest light, for I am darkness. I know everything, for I know nothing. I am a container, brimming with emotion, for I am empty."
    --Bebedora, Arc the Lad

    "Intelligence is the key, and she is locked out." - Josh Sneed, in reference to his ex.

  12. #12
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    Lindsey (Min Sun) Song

    OOC: Kain - if you are hinting at my clan in the previous thread, Dragons, not sure what to call them this time around. Having their crest to be a chimaera (dragon, tiger), just FYI

    IC: As he explained it seemed as if her first reaction had been a bit off the mark. That didn't make her feel less of a hoe though, rolling the money between her fingertips. Lindsey pursed her lips as she was deciding wether or not to take the money.

    "Enjoy your night, Min Sun."

    Before she had had an honest chance of either accept or reject his offer he left, leaving her feeling a bit insulted as well as intruiged. Insulted by the job itself but intruiged by the fact that he knew her name. She was quite certain they hadn't met before. He wasn't of Korean descent, or at least she was guessing. She continued to play with the money, studying the mark, now that the guy already had managed to slip away into the crowd. He was still waiting for his chips, and he had already glanced more than twice at Jin who was standing a bit too his right. Who could blame him though. Jin was probably the most beautiful of them all, and she had a certain innocent look that made all the men wanting to take care of her in every possible way.

    "Jin-a," she said after she had dialed her friend's number. "I need that guy's roomnumber, the one standing next to you," she told her over the phone in Korean. "Sorry for doing this, but you gotta help me....Wae? No, I'll explain why later."

    She heard Jin speak to Hana, in English this time.

    "The party is cancelled!" she sounded disappointed. She heard Hana make a disappointing sigh, although for a second or two looking a bit surprised, noticing that the guy had turned around to catch another glimpse of them, and perhaps trying to listening in. No, hopefully trying to listening in.

    "The girls couldn't get a room..., " Jin continued, looking at Hana as she paused.

    "He is looking interested..." Lindsey pointed out over the phone with a smile on her face. "Tell him that you're about to leave! You have him, I'm guessing he is already thinking about it."

    "They are thinking we should try Infamous instead. Maybe we can get a room there.... Oh, I'm sorry sir," Jin said as she made it look that she lost her balance. He quickly came to her aid.

    "Are you okay?" she could hear him ask, touching Jin's arm a little bit longer than necessary, almost caressing it. What a creep, she thought, not too unfamiliar with the feeling. Men always had a way of believing that they were imported objects, here in this very city just for their own pleasure.

    "Kkaesekkia!" she swore over the phone. "I'm really sorry, hun. I'll owe ya big time!" It was one thing to seek the attention from men that knew how to appreciate you, another thing to seek the attention from men that were pure sleeseballs.

    "Oh yes... ehm, excuse me, I'll call you back," she told Lindsey and hung up. She couldn't hear anymore but she saw that Jin had begun to talk to the man, standing a few steps closer to him. She hated herself for putting Jin in that position, and couldn't help but to hate the guy a little, who that had given her the money in the first place. It only took them a couple of minutes before the mark headed for the casinofloor, throwing a last glance at Jin who was waving at him. When he was out of view she gave her the thumbs up.

    Perhaps twenty minutes had passed until the rightful owner had receieved the money, following an earned explanation and a few laughters. The girls headed for the table Tory had found while Min Sun made her way over to the bar.

    "What'cha drinking stranger?" she asked as she slid up at the empty spot next to Jun. "A whisky sour, please," she told the bartender.

    "So, what's your name, stranger? You know mine, so it's only fair I know yours!" she twiddled with a white piece of paper between her fingers, hinting that the mission had been a success.

  13. #13
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    Dante Kane

    (Ah, yes, I could have sworn you had posted that name this time around. That's what I get for assuming lol But yeah, it can be changed to whatever name you decide on, I don't care, it was just an extra tie in)

    Dante cracked a grin as he saw the face of the man standing on the other side of the counter. "Gideon!" he said happily, grinning as he put out his hand to shake the man's, "How have you been old friend?" Though he used the term, they wouldn't really be considered friends. Dante simply had a way of being friendly with all the customers, especially the regulars. Gideon was one such regular, and a respected one at that. Dante never got into the personal business of his customers, however he was remarkably good at discerning their personalities and mannerisms, and was very good at adapting to each.

    The added plus to this encounter was seeing another new face, and just the day after he had returned. Dante had been gone for almost three years, practically vanished. After the.... incident, Dante had begun to lose track of his place in the world, a dangerous thing in the Dice, and sensing this he decided to get away from it all. After bidding his crew a farewell, he left, giving them only the briefest contacts over the time he was gone. But he seemed whole once again, and was determined to repay old debts.

    Bringing himself quickly back to the present, he nodded. "Sure thing, we'll take care of ya like always." he paused and scratched his jawline slightly, "Just a checkout on it? Anything extra you'd be looking for on it?" he added openly. Dante felt it never hurt to ask, after all the aftermarket additions was one reason racers came to his shop in particular, but also because he had no clue how this car in particular was doing.
    Last edited by LordKain; 15-09-2008 at 21:13.

  14. #14
    Post Fiend Shari Tana's Avatar
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    Yamato Jun

    Jun hadn't expected it to take very long for Min Sun to get the information he asked for. Enought ime for him to enjoy a few rounds to take the edge off. Between drinks he conversed with an associate of Mr. Katsumoto in hopes of finding out what it was Lucifer wanted to know. All he know, however, was that he had 'a few investments he like to make in Japan.' Jun wasn't sure if it was the country he was referring to, or the Yakuza affairs there. In either case, Katsumoto was probably his best connected option in Dice, though, his affiliation with the Yakuza was informal.

    Jun slid his phone back into its small leather sheath on his belt and was no sooner joined a the bar by his newly appointed agent. She posted her drink order and gave Jun a couple questiones. He directed his gaze towards her as he answered.

    "It's bourbon," he replied in response to her first question, his accent more noticable now that he had a slight buzz, "It isn't popular among most Japanese, but I've always favored it.

    "My name is Yamato Jun. I am an associate of Katsumoto Yuri, of Eclipse Futuristics Inc." The corporation was a front for Katsumoto's less legal activities, but was still a rather profitable legitimate organization dedicated to cybornetic and genetic research. Katsumoto was the chairman, but most of the board members were unaware of his underworld connections. Just about everyone in Dice knew the company due to its large research facility in the nearby desert. "The man I had you contact owes the company some money and should not be here gambling."

    He tried to put it lightly, just in case she was unaware that she had basically sealed the poor man's fate. Jun did not pity him. He knew the risks when entering into a contract with Katsumoto. It would have been no different if he had gone to Lucifer or any other crime boss. If you spend money that doesn't belong to you, it is best if you are able to repay it in an acceptable time frame. Jun pulled a business card from his jacket pocket. Part of his job was to scout and recruit potentially useful people for Katsumoto. Being a hitman, he didn't often talk to people who were alive afterwards to recruit, but he carried the cards just in case. He extended the card to Min Sun, and exchanged it for the piece of paper she carried.

    "Katsumoto-san is always in the market for talented individuals to help in his day-to-day business. There is much more to running a corporation than simply spending money and making deadlines. If you're interested, give his office a call, and ask for Mizaki. She's one of his secretaries, and she oversees recruitment." If Min sun was as smart as Jun believed her to be, she should be able to interpret his words to thier real meaning, which was basically 'we need people who can gather information efficiently.'

    Jun finished off his drink and stood. The bartender returned to collect his glass. "Put the girl's drink on my tab, Jerry." The bartender nodded and moved away to help another patron, "I hope we meet again, Min Sun." He turned to the casino, "And good luck," he added, "at the races." Jun left the bar, reading the room number from the girl's note, and headed upstairs.
    "I am the brightest light, for I am darkness. I know everything, for I know nothing. I am a container, brimming with emotion, for I am empty."
    --Bebedora, Arc the Lad

    "Intelligence is the key, and she is locked out." - Josh Sneed, in reference to his ex.

  15. #15
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    OOC: Shari, I really like the background you're giving Katsumoto. Just FYI.

    IC: Gideon smiled at Dante openly, surprised to see him. Nevertheless, there was something about Dante's presence that always set him on edge. It was instinct, trained and honed to sniff out the supernatural. Dante had always been a man of many abilities, most of which was merely hearsay, but the volume of gossip occasionally makes up for the lack of its substance.

    Nevertheless, Gideon had over the years learned to trust Dante. His disappearance had been timely, and now his re-appearance seemed far too coincidental for Gideon to believe that Dante had merely taken some lengthy hiatus for some rest and relaxation. Nothing was ever simple in the Dice.

    "Just a quick tune-up. Nothing fancy, Dante." Gideon wore his hair long that it swept the back of his collar as well as the bridge of his nose. His cold and bright eyes made his attention abrupt and calamitous that few ever doubted him. A useful skill in the world of consulting.

    The Brahma Initiative was a multi-faceted consulting firm. It's most money-making arm was a small group of very skilled strategy consultants that often met one-on-one with CEOs of the biggest firms. In general, they liked to work with public relations human resource. Gideon fit into the latest category, specializing in isolating talent in a vast organization of individuals. Although his appearance was boyish, and occasionally off-putting, he was particularly adept at putting people at ease, which suited his ability to read people.

    "Listen, Dante. While your people are at it, I have a few things to ask you. I know you have your nose into some ... otherworldly business. My bosses have me looking into something that might interest you."

    This was a side project of the Brahma Initiative. As if the life-style of a busy consultant weren't enough, the Brahma Initiative put their unique talents to good use, hunting down what can only be described as the supernatural. The request that Gideon had received to dig up a dead woman was chump change compared to some of the things they had investigated.

    Their current project was a man that was supposedly somewhere in the desert looking for a dragon. It was likely that this man was a common lunatic, but there seemed to be some evidence that he was actually capable of magic, and not merely parlor tricks. So far, he had avoided their surveys, and they had found out little except for the fact that he wore crimson robes and had dark brown eyes that seemed to suffocate people as they stood. Two of his previous known acquaintances, supposedly adept wizards themselves, had been left behind in endless comas in Brand New.

    Gideon looked at Dante sharply, careful to watch his response. "What do you know about the Red Mage of Ark."

    OOC: I doubt any of you will get this reference. I happened upon it myself, so I worked in a whole backstory just to toss it in. The first to get it wins my respect

    Shari, I'm also taking some minor liberties with Katsumoto to close the circle. Please excuse me.

    IC:

    -Linus Gregor

    When Katsumoto entered the conference room, the first thing to notice were the mirrors. Elegant, full-body length mirrors on both sides that literally followed a man as he entered, creating endless visions of hallways and doppelgangers.

    Linus spoke in stilted Japanese. He had spent a significant time in Japan, but his mastery of the language never seemed to be quite complete.

    "Your company is doing very well these days, Katsumoto-sama. I have heard great things about what you are doing. I've also heard tell that the government has put a lot of it to good use. Both yours in Japan as well as here in the United State of Rica."

    His tone was even, but it was as if there was a subtle message by the way he clutched a glass of what seemed to be dark red wine. His other hand idly left his fingers to idly dance around the rim.

    "The influence of the Eclipse Futuristics has extended quite far. I don't mean to flatter you too heavily, Katsumoto-sama, but I envy the ground upon which you stand."

    He looked at Katsumoto, his pale blond hair drifting past his ears, before he reached backwards to tuck it back. His violet-tinged, pale blue eyes seemed to gleam in the night, especially in the darkness of the barely lit room.

    "Our usual business is merely cursory, Katsumoto-sama. I care not for the pitiful fee that you extend as just courtesy while you indulge in business worth far more precious than what my casinos do. But you and I both know that our business can't be taken at face value."

    He sipped at his wine cautiously. As if to think and intensify the deliberation between his comments. So far Katsumoto had sat in his own quick-silvered lining of meditation and said nothing in response.

    "I ask nothing more than a partnership. A sharing of information that would be of benefit to the both of us. I already know exactly what is about to take place in my casino as I have my eyes on your Jun. I could easily report this to the proper authorities, but I choose not to based on our previous friendship. Not only that I will give you a very secret glimpse of my newest casino, and all that it contains. In exchange, I'd only like a little information on your research."

    He winked at Katsumoto. A sly, devious gesture that belied his rebellious nature. "I don't like to pressure my friends with serious decisions. As usual, your stay here in your suite is bereft of cost. Stay as long as you would like in order for you to make your decision."

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