He swirled the vodka in his glass, it was half empty, it was always half empty. He looked down at the street below him, 5 minutes from now he'd be meating another one of the faceless rats that clung to the underworld of this city. Another one of the rodents trying to chew them selves a nice slice, regardless of what they had to sink ther teeth into to do it. This one had bitten off more then he could chew, and now he was a big shot. Another one of these kids with an ego bigger then the gun he had behind it. Darminian was getting tired of catering to people's ego's to get what he wanted. Tired of all the mental manipulation required to just figure out who people were these days. She leaned on the railing of the balcony next to him.
What do you think sir?
I think you should stop calling me sir.
What do you think boss?
He chuckled and rolled his eyes as he downed the rest of his drink.
I think i miss the days of old, where all you needed to do was be on the right side of the gun to get the answers you needed.
I don't like the idea of you going in alone.
If i walk in with backup he's gonna bail or think i'm trying to flaunt you and call in his goons, it's better if i just go in alone.
I still don't like it.
Not something we can control, just business as usual.
He walked back into the room from the balcony and placed the glass down on the table. He grabbed his coat off the hotel room bed, and looked back out towards the balcony, he couldn't see her face but he could tell she was sulking. He withdrew the bedlams one at a time, checking the mags and cocking them. He slid them back into their holsters and pulled the coat tight around his shoulders. Moving towards the balcony again he stopped only momentarily to look back at her. He flashed the usual sly smile and leapt from the balcony, the air rushed passed him as he fell - the trench coat whipping about wildly behind him - his hair rustling slightly before it all stopped with the deafing thud. A small restaurant stood in between two larger buildings, it didn't seem like much from outside, a small building like the ones all over richland. He walked through the front door and looked around.
Inside was more cramped then he'd expected - there was booths hugging the wall, a table near the middle and a counter where the cashier was standing. He approached the counter slowly, avoiding eye contact with the blues, since the fiasco at camon the reds once again had the ability to suck all the air out of a room full of them. Of course these people didn't even know what they were standing on. He looked at the cashier and hesitated before speaking, there was something about him - more than a blue pill, but not a red, didn't seem to be an exile either - a bit baffling.
I'd like to place an order.
What can i get you?
Foie gras.
The man behind the counter narroews his eyes at Darminian, slowly he spoke.
13th floor, the elevator is through there.
The man pointed to a door between two booths hugging the wall. Darminian nodded and headed through it, watching the cashier grab the phone out of the corner of his eye. He pressed the button on the elevator and waited for the doors to open, he heard the familiar ding and stepped inside. He looked down at the panel and stopped for a moment, floors 1-12 all had functional buttons, there was no button for the 13th, only three blank circles at the top of the panel. He chuckled as he pushed the blank circle on the left and watched it light up, the box sprung to life as it began to descend the shaft. As he got lower and lower , it felt like it went a lot lower then 13 floors. As it descended lower and lower he could hear the sound of muffled music, it got louder and louder until it was right outside the doors, like an eruption the moment the doors opened it flooded in. That usual mixture of techno metal filled the whole area as the moving mass of people danced and lost themselves in what one can only describe as a narcotic dream.
It was more than just music and dance to them, and to Darminian it was just another obstacle to navigate. Beyond the dancefloor that seemed to go on for hours, he could see booth areas to his left and right, and in the back beyond two run of the mill elite guards and a velvet rope he could see the entrance way into the so-called VIP area.
Arkab, the exiles name was arkab, some up and comming merv hotshot, this city was running out of places to help the up and comming morons in the merovingian organisation. This club had to be run underground lest one of the bigger players on his side of the fence find out what he was doing, and shut him down permanently. At this point he'd accumulated enough wealth that he could afford lackies, that was a step up from the usual side of things, but good help was, is and always will be hard to find. He slithered and weaved his way through the mass of people and towards the two guards.
I'm here to speak to speak with Arkab.
So what?
His friend chuckled. The two of them had about a foot on Darminian, the seemed to puff of their chests and try to really flaunt the heighth and width advantage. They probably wouldn't have had they known that the only impression it left on Darminian was that they'd be easier to shoot if necessary.
I think he'll want to see what i have to offer.
I don't think he want's to deal with your kind, and more so i don't think you should be down here.
His friend piped up.
Yeah and i don't think -
Look, i know both of you don't think at all. That's not what your boss pays you two morons to do. And if he finds out that you kept me from seeing him, he's not going to be paying you any longer. And quite frankly if you keep talking down to me, you're not going to be doing anything much longer.
His tone was that ice cold calm, matched only by the color of his eyes which now peered over the top of his code drenched shades. The smugness from the two guards vanished as one cleared his throat and moved the velvet rope.
Cheers gentlemen.
He walked into the VIP area and looked around, there were leather couches and chairs all over the place, a large desk with a few chairs around it and some kind of oversized matress covered in cheap fur and pillows.On top of it laying back with a drink in his hand was Arkab - surrounded by a attractive gals. No guards were in the room, one of the biggest mistakes Arkab could make. Darminian grabbed a nearby chair from the desk and put it down just short of the bed, sitting down he interloced his fingers and stared at the exile over his glasses.
So you're the infamous Arkab, quite the setup you got here - but i'll skip the pleasantries as i'm sure you want to get back to 'business'.
Well, you have my attention.
The girls all seemed to giggle and murmur, that's when he noticed the one that didn't quite seem to fit in, the black sheep of his harem as it were.
I know you deal in all sorts of underground circles and the like, and i mean the real underground, the only other person i've talked to is the jewler, and he dropped your name. I'm looking for something that isn't easily found by just anyone.
It was a long shot, but this would get the word out, if anything.
I see...
He replied stroking his goatee, one of those curios types, Darminian had figured he would be.
And i know a man of your talents and skill...
He had almost not been able to get the words out as he'd been dreaming of the good ol' days not so long ago.
Might know about it or have dealt with it.
There was no way in hell he knew what it was, but it wasn't like he had the right people to ask, he was hoping the word would get out to the right circles, things had a way of rippling through the code like that.
What is it that you are looking for Darminian?
He was caught off guard that he knew his name, perhaps this one wasn't such an amateur - or perhaps Darminian had been spending too much time in the light these days, either way he didn't let it show that it surprised him.
I'm looking for 'the tower'.
The tower you say?
It's some kind of construct, some sort of hidden place within the matrix.
Ah yes, yes the construct, i've heard of it.
He was lying through his teeth, which Darminian was thinking about knocking out of his head, but he kept his cool.
You know how i can get there?
Perhaps, give you what you want to know - for a price.
That's how we do business isn't it.
He had to play it up like this to get the word out, shame really, he would have just preferred to kill him, siphon the funds from his operation and call it a day, but some things required a more delicate touch.
Darminian reached into his coat and pulled out the envelope, inside it was tightly packed with information disks, about 50 gigs or so.
You get me all the information you can on the Tower, and there will be a lot more than that for you.
He pushed the girls off of him and away from the bed as he fumbled with the envelope, looking inside and running his fingers across the edges of the disks he smiled. He dumped them out in front of him and his eyes lit up with a sick kind of joy.
I'll see what i can do for you.
He beamed as if eager for more possible work. The girls had spread out across the room, at all sides he could see them out of the corners of his eyes - save for the blacksheep.
Good.
Darminian was about to get up from the chair when he heard the whisper of a shot from behind him, the shot had gone just over his shoulder and painted the wall with brain and skull fragments from Arkab's head.
As Arkab's lifeless body seemed to hang their limply, Darminian pushed off the matress with his foot and fell backwards sitting in the chair. The second shot whizzed through the air flying just above his head by an inch or two. As the back of the chair collided with the floor, two bedlams had reared their heads from inside his coat and he now stared at the black sheep with guns on her, and her silenced pistol on him.
It's always the pretty ones that are trouble....
((More to come, but feel free to post about what your charachter is up to, if you like.))
~Darminian
