[RP]Seekers of Power

Levont Mires

“You dropped something, I don’t..…I don’t know what it is. But you are Levont, yes, so it’s yours? It must be important.”

"Dropped something?" Levont muttered until he caught sight of the white envelope.

His eyes widen a bit as he looked over to his jacket on the table. No envelope equals the stranger must have found his paycheck.

"Chết tiệt.Đó là kiểm tra của tôi trả tiền. (Damn. That's my pay check.)" Levont whispered as he looked outside.

"Second floor. Room 205." Levont yelled to the guy down on the street. He might as well get his pay check back and offer some tea to the guy for finding it.

He closed the window and started to grab a pot to boil some water. He opened a cabinet and pulled out two cups as well as a bag of Green Tea. He then remembered his chain in his bedroom. He quickly ran and grabbed it. If the guy were to do something funny, he would not be caught unaware. Safety and caution first if anything.
 
Ren saluted, rather senselessly and turned towards the door. Bounding up the steps with the grace of a gazelle, and delighting in the sound of the crunch of snow beneath his feet, he stopped short. Hesitantly, his hand falls on the doorknob. “Hey, don’t I~”

The door ebbed forward, creaking with the age that showed heavily on its face. Clearly, it wasn’t in the best of shape, and if that were the case, it had troubles staying closed. “Oh. Nevermind.” He said to himself. It didn’t matter anyway; nobody was around to hear his inner monologue.

Jostling the door open, and slamming his body against it to shut it behind him, Ren progressed up the first set of stairs, and down the fall until he stood before the right door.

“205?” He gently drummed against the door, with an unnatural rhythmic beat that was both soft and uncharacteristic of a man.
 

Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep

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Besides the two people that was also on the street with this Miranda Lin, the area was rather deserted and there doesn't seem to be anything overly suspicious. Despite her ditzyness, Iglesias is not stupid. Small things like nonessential time and dates she may get mixed up, but personal information related to her were kept shut like a safe. There should be no reason for this woman to know anything about her besides that she wants to meet "Muscles".

Iglesias, i'm going in. The usual. If i dont contact you within twelve hours, then go on alert. 24, take action.

... Got it Ani.

Cutting off the connection, Anarchia slipped the thin, transparent device into her pocket and dropped catlike from the rooftop before taking a position in line with Miranda, directly behind her, 15 meters back. Basically walking in her footsteps, Anarchia would approach the woman until she was three meters from her, then call out. It was enough distance to be out of reach, but enough for herself to attack, should Miranda do so. Gun or knife. It didnt matter. From the indentation of her footsteps, it did appear that she was preoccupied in thought and didn't appear to be in the best of moods. Running her hand under her teal pigtails and dropping them behind her back, Anarchia took another five obvious steps and called out. There was an obvious slight german accent to her english.

Ms Miranda Lin, i take it?
 
Miranda was more than well-prepared for such situations, but she had to admit - the sudden call for her startled her. Stopping in her tracks, she adroitly unzipped her jacket and turned - all without letting the person behind notice. Whoever this person was, if there was to be any hostile intent, Miranda was more than ready to draw her weapon. Thankfully, this person kept a comfortable distance from the girl. She didn't seem particularly dangerous, but she did appear prepared for any signs of aggression. Definitely a trained warrior.

With some really weird choice of hair color, however. Miranda had to exert a lot of mental effort to stop staring at the lady's teal hair. Even her brows were teal, which didn't help things. Still, on the more serious note, this lady did some background check on her. Or, maybe this was the client that Muscle had been talking about. If so, she was certainly about to get a piece of her mind. Still, until her motives are ascertained, there was no harm playing along.

"... Are you calling me?"

Miranda easily slipped into the faked persona of an average citizen. Her face projected the confusion of being called out by a stranger as she stared at the lady and her hair of teal. "I think you got the wrong person," She said, chuckling as she played up the hint of amusement at the stranger's folly.
 
Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep


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The woman was cautious. In the silence of the empty street, Anarchia could pick up the sound of her unzipping her jacket slowly. There were many reasons for why one would unzip their jackets, but given that it was dead in winter(?) and the snow has piled on thickly, Anarchia doubted that she was hot. More likely, this Miranda had some form of weapon under that jacket of hers. That was also equally understandable. She was a criminal. She worked with an arms dealer and it should not come to a surprise that she should be armed. Ms Haktanir had an entourage of gunmen that could probably storm the American Embassy in Iraq. So local dealers should be similarly protected, albeit scaled down. She did, however, act ignorant.

"... Are you calling me? I think you got the wrong person"

Anarchia was not convinced. Iglesias provided indepth detail and she was a honest to goodness intelligence officer. This woman was Miranda Lin. As if reading a report, Anarchia began listing off data. Her hands were held behind her back, right hand drumming along the handle of her Blackhawk Tatang. "Have a plan to kill everyone you meet" was the way she lived and has seen her through many a tight situations before.

Miranda Lin, age 21. Date of birth, November 1st 19XX. Singaporean nationality with Chinese ancestry. Weight, 50 kg. Height, 175 cm. Blood type, AB+. Currently lodging with local arms dealer by the street name of "Muscle". Shall i go on?

She paused for a second or two to let the information sink in.

You are Miranda Lin. Now, i believe a form of apology is needed first. My... aide happened to have made the mistake with time and date, in which caused you to have wasted your time in waiting. I formally apologise for her incompetence. However, i require your service in procuring off the book firearms. I was told you would be the best in New Bedford to contact. Would i be mistaken?

Anarchia spoke in a normal conversational volume. Soft enough that no one unaided can hear, but loud enough for Miranda. Her speech is still stiff and formal as ever.
 
Whoever she was, she was damn good. Damn. Good. That was quite fair bit of important detail, along with some mundane ones that not many would consider reading up on. Either way, it was clear that there wasn't any point in continuing the act.

"You are Miranda Lin. Now, i believe a form of apology is needed first. My... aide happened to have made the mistake with time and date, in which caused you to have wasted your time in waiting. I formally apologise for her incompetence. However, i require your service in procuring off the book firearms. I was told you would be the best in New Bedford to contact. Would i be mistaken?"

At least she was polite. Although her knowledge of her personal details had just sank in, Miranda was hardly pleased to deal with a late customer. She didn't allow this displeasure to show, however, instead putting on an amused smile."Well, lady," Miranda reached into her jacket, pulling out her USP Elite pistol and the silencer. Fitting the silencer on the barrel of the gun, she raised it, switched off safety and fired a well-aimed shot at a bench opposite them. "I'm sure you know how it is, and why we're the best huh. Not many can sit with us, you know. Anyway, if you're looking to get guns, you best be telling me what sort, how many. Numbers stuff."

Casually, she removed the silencer and switched safety back on. Looking down at her gun, she smiled as she watch puffs of mist emanate from the barrel.

 
Levont Mires

*knock knock knock*

The soft rapt of the doorway instantly got his attention as he walked over to the door. Peering out of the eye hole of the door, he saw the same straw hat outside. Straw hat, check. Undoing the lock and the chain lock, Levont opened the doorway to see the guy there. Now with the bright light there, Levont noticed a few things he missed while on the streets. One is that his frame looked at bit too delicate to be a guy. But yet again, he has seen a few cross dressing guys with frames like a lady. The rest was not important until he saw the guy's hand. They look far too delicate to be a man's hand in terms of general width. But with so little information outside of that, it was better to play the safe route.

"Hello. You aparent... apparently know my first name. It'll be nice to know who you are at the very least." Levont muttered looking at the man/woman?
 
Ren was too busy staring down at the floor, envelope in hand, feeling the texture of a document between his fingers. He relished the odds things in life; the sensation of something hidden underneath a cover, be it paper or cloth, the story of a building that was lost to the ages. Already his eyes were scanning all corners of the hall. The grain of the wood was dark, the floor carpeted, the doorknob in front of him a brilliant brass with major scuffs. This room had seen many visitors and tenants.

Entranced by the thoughts in his bubbly head, Ren didn’t notice Levont was standing before him, and that he was staring down at the man’s shins until he spoke. “…my first name. It'll be nice to know who you are at the very least."

He shifted in his place, raising his eyes until they fell on the man’s bare abdomen. An unfamiliar heat spread throughout his face, starting from his cheeks and moving outward, even being so bold as to worm its way down to his stomach, causing a peculiar churn. He hesitated, keeping his face hidden beneath the hat so that the stranger couldn’t see the abnormal reaction he was having. This was exactly why he chose not to live with men.

“W-Well.. It was on the envelope. How else could I come to know your name?” Ren came off as a bumbling fool, fumbling with his words as they poured from his dainty lips. “It’s not like I know all strange people’s names like that. I don’t really know anyone’s names except my own.”

It was then, that he remembered Levont asking about his own name. He stuck out his right hand which held the man’s cheque, followed by his left hand which overlapped the other, open to a handshake. Only he could manage to trip over his own limbs like that.

“My name’s Ren, my acquaintance to meet your pleasure. No! My pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” His limbs weren’t the only thing he was tripping over, it seemed.
 
Levont Mires

“My name’s Ren, my acquaintance to meet your pleasure. No! My pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

Levont's eyes rose a bit as Ren stumbled on his words. But that was none of his concern.

"At the very least look at my general direction of my face when you are saying your name." Levont pointed out noticing the gaze of the guy.

He turned back into his apartment and went to the kitchen. The pot water finally boiled as he grabbed it and poured it into the two cups. Putting some green tea into the cup, he grabbed a pair of spoons and place one beside Ren's cup before he used his to stir the tea.

"You can come in you know. It's not the warmest time of the year. So how about a cup of Green Tea to warm you up. It won't hurt you if anything else." Levont muttered looking at the person.
 
Levont scolded Ren like a child, urging him to at least look him in the eyes when introducing one’s self. He cursed himself inwardly, always looking to Felix, his mentor, for manners and advice, and now he was being so rude! He couldn’t help it though.

Raising his head, he met Levont full in the eyes for a moment, before the man turned away to retrieve some tea, and it was then that he probably noticed that the straw adorned stranger was a little more peculiar than he originally thought. Certainly no man.

“Tea? Oh, yes please, that’d be lovely.” At that notion, in trying to recapture his manners, he realized that most men probably didn’t use words like ‘lovely’ in the company of other guys. He coughed, bumbling something to himself before shutting the door behind him and stepping in.

Taking a seat at the rather shabby looking dining table, he gathered up the small cup of tea and spoon, and started swirling the clear green mass with the device. Sugar was nearby, and he reached out, spooning at least two heaping piles into the still dancing jade water. This time he let the current mix the sugar, leaving whatever may fall to the bottom of the cup. He liked it that way, it always left the last few sips extra sweet.

However, now at a loss for words to the kind stranger, Ren glanced in his direction, still taking note of his half-clad body and how it made him feel weird. To break the silence, all he could say was, “Thank you.”
 
Soren stood over the sink in the bathroom of his penthouse apartment, washing the blood form his hands. A bar of soap was clenched in his left hand and was scrubbing away at the caked on blood when the soap slipped from his fingers and clattered into the marble sink. His hand began to move against his will, the tendons pushing against the skin as it flexed. He seemed to sense things, twisting this way and that as though searching, finding naught but Soren himself it seemed to settle down, albeit with a petulant air. Soren merely sighed and took the bar of soap in his right hand before holding it under the water and rinsing off the suds.

"Fucking pricks," he muttered. "I've told them so many times not to call me at this hour."

He began scrubbing his left hand which twitched under the action. Obviously it didn't like what he was doing. Each repetition seemed to follow his words.

"I was perfectly fine until they called. Would've been better if the bitch had simply gone with it but no, she has to be so fucking difficult and I had to take an extra 2 hours getting her. Fucking perfect and then the pricks call. Someone broke into our account and hijacked 14 millions dollars. They bypassed all the security and firewalls. They've no idea how it happened."

The last three line were spoken in a higher pitched mimic voice to which his hand seemed to perk up, looking up at him curiously before the soap hit the marble sink and its wrist was taken by his right and forced down under the water.

"I'll tell you how it happened, dipshit. I did it," he continued, his voice back to its normal sound. "Security and firewalls my ass. Pieces of shit from 3 years ago. A fucking 12 year old can crack it. Surprised no one did it before I did. And of course it's just soooo urgent you have to call me now. Have to use up more of my power to keep the bitch in check and keep the phone clean of her blood. And of course that was a waste. Didn't talk or anything. Did she or didn't she? Don't fucking know. I bet it was something shitty. Bitch had no clue what the fuck she was doing. Some sort of luck manipulation I'm sure."

Checking his hands, he shut of the water and grabbed a hand towel with his right and began drying them both, his left squirming under it.

"Shitty power comparatively. Probably nothing wrong with it. Not like MINE!"

With his last word he slammed his still squirming hand against the wall. Instantly a jolt of pain went up his arm but his hand stopped moving. Lowering it, he kept it by his side, making his way to the messenger bag where he kept the job documents. A thin layer of dust covered it; he hadn't used it in about 3 weeks. That was when he had found Stephy. He'd been called to called to test a bank's security system in Michigan and he'd stopped for lunch at the local Applebee's and found her. He'd only been there 3 days but he saw the headlines in the local news the second night. Two weeks and she was manager; definitely something strange. As soon as he'd gotten back to his apartment he'd ripped open his search programs and scoured the area's records. Everything pointed to it being highly unusual. So he'd gone to fetch her just yesterday and bring her back for interrogation.

He shook out the bag over the hardwood floors, the dust scattering on it. He shoved his fully charged work laptop in it and it's assorted cables and closed it just as his hand started to reawaken. It hung at his side, twitching slowly, as if still groggy. Laying the bag by his bed, he went out onto the balcony. You could see a good part of New Bedford from this height. Not clearly though, which was why Soren had the binoculars out there. Set up on a stand, it was a high powered one, probably over $1000 if it was on the lower end. It was good enough that he could read the street names on the signs from any distance within New Bedford, with some modifications to the focus and such.

It was late though so he doubted much would be going on. Broadening the focus on it to where he could see entire blocks he began scanning the city where he could. Some buildings were tall enough to mask sections but he could see a large number of the alleyways and most of the street. Already he had found one person lying in what he had assumed was a pool of their blood; they weren't moving and there was a scarlet pool underneath them.

"Not my problem," he muttered before continuing on.

Eventually he came to rather interesting scene. Two women, or at least they looked like women seemed to be having a face off on a street. They seemed to be talking though the distance between them made it seem as though they were...enemies? Or at least at odds. Then one of them reached into her jacket and pulled two things out. Fitting them together in an unknown way, she pointed the creation as something nearby.

"A pistol and silencer?" he muttered.

It was the only option that kinda sorta made sense. And that made it interesting to watch. Definitely better than the shit on the late night shows.

"And now Mrs. LeBlanc, I don't think I'll be going with you at all," he said, adding voice commentary to the silent scene he was watching.
 
Levont Mires

“Thank you.”

Levont nodded as he took a big gulp of tea, savoring the taste of it all. He looked at the guy as he put sugar into the Green Tea. Ignoring that fact for the time being and hoping that he could get the guy at least comfortable enough for him to practice, Levont decided to get straight to the point. The guy was not out for a midnight stroll after all.

"Vì vậy (So) Ren, why are you up at this time of the night? People that are up at this time are usually working, having fun with their friends or getting ready to sleep. Something bothering you or the likes?" Levont muttered looking at the guy trying very hard to ignore the hat despite the fact that the pair were inside a building with lights on.
 
Ren’s eyes mulled over the tea in his hands, the swirling jade mass making tiny whirlpools as he swished his cup. It amused him, calmed him, eased his mind of the nights previous happenings. And then he spoke out.

“Nightmares.” As if so casual like they were long-time friends, Ren throws out the word nightmares as if Levont could relate. Maybe he could, maybe he couldn’t. It didn’t really matter. Ren didn’t feel like there was anything to hide by saying he had nightmares, although what they were could put him in danger and make the last several years of running all for naught.

“I have bad dreams sometimes. It makes my head hurt. So I go for a walk to get some air. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t. But mostly I just need to try and remove myself from them, as best as I can.”

His eyes remain downcast at his tea, face shaded mostly by his hat, a conscious attempt. It’s rude, and yet necessary. He raises the cup to his thin lips, sipping at the bitter-sweet liquid.
 
Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep
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Instincts were screaming out at Anarchia like a fog horn. Training was kicking her on the inside of her head as the middle woman reached into her jacket and removed a H&K USP Elite with an additional silencer. All her bodily reflexes were telling Anarchia to take the opportunity of her slow movement to whip out her knife and lash out across her throat before jamming it back handed into her temple, but her will persisted. She was a foreign national and killing anyone, even a criminal, was going to cause an international stir. Particularly since she herself was military. Germany would not hesitate to let the Americans have her head if it meant things don't escalate.

Well, lady, I'm sure you know how it is, and why we're the best huh. Not many can sit with us, you know. Anyway, if you're looking to get guns, you best be telling me what sort, how many. Numbers stuff."

Anarchia was begging to disagree. Had she been able to have it her way, she would rather have gone to Haktanir. From the run of the mill pistol to spec ops gear, the woman could dispense them as if candy. In any location too. However, this Miranda seem confidant enough with her merchandise and it seemed less street talk. Her instincts were telling her she, or this Muscle" could get her some decent firepower. Anarchia had to deal with the pistol first though. Standard operating procedure would have her suddenly grabbing her hands and pulling Miranda forward before pivoting to the woman's side, twist and break the wrist whilst simultaneously pull the pistol from her hand and tap her twice in the head from the back. Her stance was relaxed, making the above method that much easier. However, it also meant that it was likely Miranda wasn't going to shoot her. The woman let off a single shot into the bench nearby. Unfazed, Anarchia brushed it off. Miranda was smiling at the smoke emanating from the barrel and wasn't particularly impressed with the reaction, but she kept her reaction internal.

Either she doesn't use her own products, or she is easy to entertain....i

If you are quite done, can we move on? If you are attempting to intimidate me, I'm afraid you'll have to do better. I have had much bigger guns held at my head before and even bigger bullets fly by my head be have survived much worse than just threats. As for numbers, two sets of what i will order.

Besides herself, Iglesias needed one. It took Anarchia a second to sort which guns she wanted. Anything too high tech and it'd bring unwanted attention. That ruled out the ACR, the XM8 or the FN2000. The SIG 550 was also out of the equation

I need a HK 53, MSG90, two Glock 18, MP9, Browning High Power and M4 Carbine.... how far do you go in terms of optics and accessories?



 
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So it seemed Miranda may be dealing with someone different this time. She quickly forget the lady's earlier failings as she took in this new information. Not only is she experienced in intense combat, but she is also asking for a rather large supply of weaponry. Judging by her reaction to Miranda's actions, it was clear she wasn't lying. It happened in a flash, but Miranda could see that if she even had a single hostile intent, this lady would have retaliated. Considering her preparedness and Miranda's casual stance, Miranda would be the one going stiff in a pool of blood. Despite the thought, this new revelation forced a genuine smile onto Miranda's face.

"Don't get me wrong here. I'm not trying to intimidate you, not now at least. IF you had reacted differently, that'll be an entirely different story though..."

Miranda chuckled as she noticed her own contradiction. "Basically, you have my heartfelt," she placed her hand over her chest. "Respect. But right now, this request you're making gets a little too technical for my puny brain. It'll be easier for us all if I get you to meet the man himself."

Which was true. Although she have had quite a fair bit of experience helping broker deals with Muscle's clients, she had always worked with information that Muscle provided about the client's request and potential requests. Rarely did she encounter one such as she did now, where the client threw out a list of firearms to request for. Some of the names did sound familiar though, like the Glock 18. She did consider buying that to use as a pistol until Muscle convinced her to buy her current USP Elite. The rest of the names this lady threw out were just alien to her. Probably, they were rifles of some kind, and powerful. No doubt, something that Muscle must personally discuss.

"Follow me, ah... Arna... Arna-chee-ah? Speaking of which, I have no idea how to pronounce the rest of your name."

Gesturing for the lady to follow, Miranda started towards her crib which she shared with Muscle. Looks like the night was about to get interesting. Muscle's negotiations with his clients were always entertaining to watch.
 
Altera stood before a huge building. She had heard news of a person working there. Rumors had spread about them being able to read minds. How interesting. They were probably a Holder. While the ability wasn't something she wanted, it would make a perfect test for her machine. She had to send somebody in on purpose to know how it truly worked, after all.

Looking around, there was nobody in sight. Not that it would matter. She was going to be anything but discreet with this. A man by the name of Michael Crombie was the supposed wielder of the power; and her target today. It was an uncommon name, and he apparently worked on the third floor. Since she couldn't just walk in without clearance...

A distortion under her feet told her her force field had taken form. Willing it to rise, she stood on it as it moved up like an elevator, taking her with it. First floor...passed....second floor...passed. Priming energy as she continued to ascend, she was ready within a few seconds.

The third floor was the same as every other floor; but fifty feet above ground level. Glass windows, closed off with blinds, blocked her entry. But that wouldn't be a problem for long. Red light glowed behind her, spinning rapidly in a nexus of its own constitution. With a sound like a tiny hydraulic fan, four red lasers burst forth from the pinpricks of light, piercing through the window and dropping melting shards of glass to the ground.

And then, perfectly on cue, the screaming started.
 
Most people that knew Alyss also knew there was no pleasing her in the slightest. Unfortunately, the woman in front of her didn’t know her very well. Even though the woman had “apologized”, Alyss was now annoyed and upset over being a waste of time. “You are completely unbelievable!” Her anger was evident by the tone in her voice as she turned around and left the diner. She didn’t have the time or patience to deal with riff raff like her. She had gone to the diner for her soup and she had gotten it and eaten it. It wasn’t beneficial for her to stay any longer.

Just as she had gotten to the diner, she was going to use that very same method to get back home. She walked into the alleyway, looked around, and teleported back inside her home, in particular, her room. She couldn’t believe the nerve of that woman back there. Who was she to go around picking on people like that? She had no right so say things like that to her. Did she have any idea in the slightest whom she was speaking to? The whole situation had Alyss fuming as she took her shoes off and threw them on the floor.

From there she got out of her coat. It was thin, but it was also completely unnecessary. It may have been cold out, but Alyss rather liked the cold. Just as she had pulled her coat off she heard a rather loud knocking at her door. It is way past midnight… who could that be?, Alyss thought. No one ever knocked on her door that late at night. Sliding in her socks on the hardwood floor of her apartment, she came out of her room and into the living room to get to the door. She was starting to get tired. Foolishly, she didn’t bother to look in the peephole. Of course, she wouldn’t have been able to anyway.

Lyra was on the other end of the door with her finger over the peephole just in case. Once Alyss opened the door, she pushed Alyss aside on her chest and simply walked in. Alyss would have been furious if she wasn’t so shocked. “Rather nice apartment you have here, Alyss.” Lyra closed the door behind her and led Alyss to the couch by placing her hand on her back and pushing her forward. “W-Who are you? What are you doing here?” Her questions were answered by her shoulders being grabbed, her being turned around, and forced to sit down on her own couch.

“Funny how you can get into an apartment without opening doors, huh?” Alyss’ heart immediately sank. She panicked so much she was just about to teleport. However, before she could do so Lyra had sprung forward, sat next to her on the couch and wrapped her arm over Alyss’ shoulders. “Nope. ‘Fraid I can’t let you do that.” The way she spoke to her made her angry, yet she was too scared to do anything about it. “You’re probably worried that I’m going to kill you, right?” Alyss quickly nodded her head; unaware of all the trembling she was currently doing.”

“Luckily for you, I’m not here for that. Killing isn’t my style, so to speak. However, I do have use for you… and you’re going to accept it.” Alyss looked over at the woman and looked her right in the… eye. Now that she was looking at her, she took her appearance into account for the first time. The woman in front of her had somewhat long black straight hair and the eye that wasn’t covered appeared to be red. She wore a black suit that looked like it was well ironed and pressed as well. In fact, it was somewhat like what the lady back at the diner was wearing.

Once Alyss took in her appearance she tried to speak as calmly as possible. With the woman in black having her arm around her, she couldn’t teleport, and for all she knew the woman could have a knife, and she had already shown that she wasn’t afraid to get physical with her. “I will not be doing anything… please, get off of me.” Remarkably, she made sure to speak without any tone of annoyance at all. “So you can just teleport away? No, I’m not going to let that happen. You see, you’re important, and I need you for something.”

Alyss blinked as she looked the woman in the eye. “What makes you think I am going to help you? How do you even know that I can teleport? You still have not told me who you are.” In response, Lyra simply gripped her shoulder harder. Just enough to not hurt majorly, but still enough to make her wince; it didn’t take long for Alyss to realize that he shoulder was also heating up. “Since you’re going to be so pushy, I’ll just get direct to it.”

She moved over just a bit and got closer to Alyss, making her all the more uncomfortable with the entire situation. “My name is Lyra, and I’m quite a bit like you. Only, I don’t teleport, I create and control fire. And as of right now… you’re working for me.” She sounded so smug in the entire delivery of her speech. What made her think she worked for anyone? “I do not underst-“ She was cut off rather quickly. “You see, I have a friend that lives here. He specializes in tampering with memories. With one little touch, he can make you forget or remember anything he wants.”

Lyra paused for a quick moment to laugh. “And… you no longer exist according to most people.” Alyss’ eyes grew wide as Lyra continued. Her voice was non-challant. It was as if she did things like this all the time. “Your teachers won’t recall who you are, or ever seeing you. Nor do the few friends you have… nor do your parents.” Alyss tried to pull away. It was clear to Lyra that she was beyond panicked at this point… but she couldn’t help but drive the point in. “That’s right, little rich girl… your source of money is cut off. Your parents have no relocation of ever having a daughter.”

Alyss’ voice shook as she tried to piece things together. “W-what about my p-pictures at my parent’s h-house? Su-surely they are s-still there? The w-workers… th-they will remember me… right? I-I still exist on paper…” Lyra pulled Alyss in closer. “Not anymore. I’ve spent the entire last two weeks erasing you, Alyss. No one remembers you. The pictures in your parent’s house are being removed as some kind of prank. In fact… they think you broke in there and placed them. So, police are searching for someone matching your description now.”

The more Alyss tried to push away, the more she found that Lyra wouldn’t let her go. “I can’t let you teleport away.” After a while, Alyss’ pushing became more of a squirm and then right back down to a tremble. “However, you can get it all back, Alyss. I promise.” Lyra was practically glowing at just how well everything was going. “All I need you to do is teleport me and yourself into a few bank vaults. I’ll let you keep 25% of it and I keep 75%. Once I’m happy with how much I’ve earned, I give you your life back. You can refuse if you’d like… but then you’d get nothing. What do you say?”

Alyss whimpered in response. “I-I cannot do that… It is… it is wrong. B-besides, if you know so much about me, y-you would have known that I cannot teleport to places that I have not been.” With her free arm, she pulled something out of her suit coat and placed it on the table. “Pictures of the insides of vaults with their respective blueprints. You’re not getting out of this. I’m letting you go now. Calm down and think about it. Teleport away and I’ll take that as a ‘no’ and you’ll never see me again. Of course… you’ll also never get your life back.”

True to her word she let Alyss go and walked into the next room over where the kitchen was. As she raided Alyss’ fridge, Alyss took her phone out of her pocket and texted one of her friends. “Are you awake?” In less than two minutes, she only got the reply: “who is this” in return. Lyra wasn’t lying… and as Alyss realized that, she started to cry. Lyra returned with a bottle of wine in her hand. “You’re too young to have this in your fridge, you know?” She opened the bottle and took a swallow and then passed it over to Alyss.

Alyss refused, “I-I do not drink. I just have that around just in case…” Lyra pulled the bottle back and drank from it again. “Lucky for me… have you thought it over?” Alyss nodded her head. “I-I will do it. But… I never want to see you again after this is done!” Lyra smiled and stood up again. “Not a problem. Your first order of business is to stick your ankle out.” Despite the order being somewhat odd, she did so. From there, Lyra pulled what appeared to be a long chained pair of handcuffs out and placed one end around Alyss’ ankle and the other end around the leg of the couch. “Just in case you change your mind… Good night, Alyss.”

Alyss watched in horror as Lyra went back to her room. “H-HEY! That is my room!” Lyra only laughed in response as she opened her door and closed it. Alyss simply sat on the couch in shocked amazement. She was being forced to sleep on her own couch as some black haired barbarian drank wine and slept in her bed. “This is not fair…”
 
The girl left without another word. Candice couldn't say she was sorry to see her go. Her unkempt appearance and indignant voice had driven her to distraction, and her food and drink had already arrived at her table by the time she turned back. Tch, what an annoying deterrent that girl had been. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't run into her again.

As she moved her legs around, a sharp burst of pain running up her calf made her freeze in place. Damn. Had she injured herself on today's run? Looking around in hopes that nobody was watching, then lifted her skirt to check the source of the pain.

The sight was such a shock she barely suppressed a hiss of displeasure. A jagged cut, rather wide, though shallow, ran from ankle to knee. It wasn't bleeding, but it stung with a consistent, throbbing pain. What with her wearing a knee length skirt, her wound was probably visible to anyone who cared to look at her. Considering she wasn't too bad looking, anyone could do that.

As she looked away from the wound, she felt a burst of fatigue that briefly made her vision swim. Tch. It was trying to activate. Heal her wound. That wasn't acceptable at all. I'll deal with it myself. I don't need you, she hissed mentally, forcing the swell of power back. Energy returned to her with the force of a punch in her stomach, and a wave of nausea rose in her.

Her appetite gone for the time being, she took the coffee and sipped at it, her frustration growing with every second. She would have to clean and bandage that wound when she got home.
 
Levont Mires

“Nightmares. I have bad dreams sometimes. It makes my head hurt. So I go for a walk to get some air. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t. But mostly I just need to try and remove myself from them, as best as I can.”

Levont nodded, understanding Ren's position. He was no exception on getting nightmares and he can also relate to the straw hat boy trying to get rid of the demon in his mind through any means.

"I see. The nightmare must have been a bad one if you decide to take a walk at this time of the year. Why not tell me the nightmare. It might not help much, but at the very least you can get it off of your chest." Levont muttered as he took a sip of tea.

"In any case, it's late. You can stay here for the night if you want." Levont offered looking at the guy.

 
OOC: Take us straight to Muscles, unless you have another event planned out?

Anarchia Iilyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep


​
"Don't get me wrong here. I'm not trying to intimidate you, not now at least. IF you had reacted differently, that'll be an entirely different story though..."

It seems that the impasse between the two crumbled and that they were actually able to start doing business. The quicker they completed the deal, the better. Anarchia had better things to do than to just stand and chat in the middle of the night in the middle of winter. In fact, she had wanted to be at her home working on her power. There was still so much research that was needed to be done. She knows at the very least that she can alter an objects momentum and even force movement on a stationary object, but that was still too brief for her liking. Anarchia preferred to know everything about her assets. Ignorance always equal to death on the field.

"Basically, you have my heartfelt...Respect. But right now, this request you're making gets a little too technical for my puny brain. It'll be easier for us all if I get you to meet the man himself."

Anarchia was taken aback slightly. So unexpected that she let slip and her teal eyebrows creased slightly before it relaxed back to normal. She did not expect to be asked to go to the dealer herself. At most, she expected to leave her list and perhaps, a further appointment to finalise details. So much thoughts were running through her head. Should she take a risk and go? Pulling out right now would effectively mean she would no longer be able to use Muscle as a potential dealer. She steeled herself and decided to go through. Should anything happen, her powers were still with her as well as her experience as a soldiers. Downtown gangsters would not stand a chance.

Very well. I dont see any other options. Lead the way then.

"Follow me, ah... Arna... Arna-chee-ah? Speaking of which, I have no idea how to pronounce the rest of your name."

You wouldn't be the first. My own countrymen sometimes seem to struggle. Its prnounced An-Ar-Kee-Ah.
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