Dance of The Knights (( One x One ))

[Symorin]

(( This is a one on one RP between me and Matinaru. You're more than welcome to follow along but no posting, please. ^.^ ))

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❝If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared...❞

♔

❝...For men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries - for heavy ones they cannot.❞

Alexei took his seat, smoothing out the wrinkles of his suit as he waited for his 'guest' to arrive. The lights of the Mariinsky Theatre dimmed as the dancers slowly made their way onto the stage. There was a choir, right before the stage. He heard the first telltale ominous notes of Sergei Prokofiev's "Dance of The Knights". A grin tugging at his cheeks now. Haven't lost the ear for opera music, it seems. Alexei was, admittedly, a fan of theatrics... and after an extended leave from the city; he'd found his old enemies began slipping in. Like cockroaches hiding under every crack, they waited for the landlord to vanish before returning to ruin his home. So what better way to not only announce his grand 'return' to the world of crime, than in the most flamboyant, noticeable way possible?

He glanced at the seats next to him, they were empty. He'd hoped his invitation had reached the man in time... after all, the opera wouldn't be complete without a grand finale! Withdrawing a silver cigarette case, he cracked it open. A variety of brands and flavors were at his fingertips. He chose Cuban tobacco, he wanted to treat himself tonight. Bringing it to his lips, he flicked open his father's tobacco lighter. He wasn't sure whether the theater had any rules on smoking... but he didn't particularly care.

Inhaling the rich scent, he reclined back in the soft seat. They were ground level, just as he asked... it would give him a good view of the show; and of his enemies' worlds crumbling apart. He looked up at the extravagant mural dominating the ceiling. The hands of saints interlocked with cherubim circling around the chandelier. Sending a few more your way, Lord. The warmth of the theater overcame him, he closed his eyes and drifted with the music. They were halfway through the first act by the time his special 'guest' arrived. A balding man in his mid-forties with a pretty young wife following behind. They sat next to him, completely ignoring just who was only an armrest away from them. "Care for a cigarette?" He muttered, opening the silver cigarette case for the man to see.

The bald man narrowed his eyes. "And here I thought you were dead." Sergei Polzin didn't grab a cigarette, not now at least. "You delayed my death for a bit of torment, didn't work I'm afraid." He withdrew the cigarette, sending a puff of smoke into the air. Sergei would be able to see the smug features of Alexei Volkov staring at him. The lit "cherry" of the Cigarette providing an ominous glow to his grin. "I'll admit, statistically speaking... shooting me in the leg and leaving me to bleed out in the middle of Siberia should have been the end of me. Yet, I seem to have Rasputin's blessing over my shoulders. You'll have to do more than that to kill me, Sergei." He shook the Cigarette case lightly, calling Sergei's attention back to it.

"Now come, have a cigarette. I promise I only have the best brands around." Sergei continued to glare at him, the woman sitting beside him growing a bit tense now. She just wanted to watch an Opera... not be in the middle of some gang showdown once again. "Heh... well you shouldn't tempt fate, Alexei. You're young, impetuous, and it wouldn't take much for me to have you drowned in a lake." Sergei snorted derisively, grabbing a random cigarette from the case, not caring for which brand he chose. Alexei lit it for him.

"I hope you know... I can't let you continue operations in my city, Sergei." The bald man rolled his eyes, speaking now with the cigarette in his mouth. "How do you intend to stop me now, Volkov?" The younger man smirked. Pointing the cherry of his Cigarette towards one of the balconies in the far eastern corner of the room. "Well, I believe that man there is your accountant, no?" He leaned back in his seat. "Keep your eyes on him... you have a few other officers here, in case you didn't realize. They're the ones I never bothered to bribe. Now, while normally this would give you the numerical advantage... I have a friend here in the theatre." That special friend was Dahlia, a shockingly useful associate... and one who'd soon be silently eliminating all the threats he had to deal with in this little Opera House.

Before the ballet ended, he'd be back in control of his old home.

[matinaru]

Ɖαнℓια βℓαcκωαтɛя

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"Boom, head shot."

►Pulling to a stop at the edge of the curb, Dahlia stepped out of her black Aston Martin Vanquish. Cars and limos were pulling up to the front of the theater. Calm red eyes assessing everything she was taking in. She turned on her stiletto heel and walked with purpose to the back of the theater house. Her white blonde hair was pulled back into a sophicated bun, Dahlia was dressed in a black floor length dress. The outfit would somewhat match the other musicians entering along side her. They chatter to each other about tonight's performance. Even through Dahlia understood Russian perfectly, she refrained from talking. Not wanting to make herself memorable. Though she did smile here and there to pass off a sense of normalcy.

Once inside, Dahlia slipped into the shadows of the back stage. Gripping the violin case, she ascended the stairs. Moving quickly up towards the spotlights would be held. Slipping off her heels, Dahlia pulled on black toe socks. This allowed her to move like a wraith in the shadows, most of the spotlights were automated but there were a few people up this high to make sure anything went wrong. Dahlia didn't feel the need to address that problem just yet, she assumed that Alexei would have told them to just "mind there own business" while she was up here. Locating the spot, she set to work.

Opening the sleek black violin case revealed not an instrument but a deadly weapon. The rifle had been broken down so that it would be easier to travel with. Swift hands moved to reassemble the tool and set it into position. Now Dahlia's favorite part began; waiting. For some reason, she had always enjoyed waiting. Counting her heart rate and breath. Assessing the area she would be working in. It was rather relaxing. Keen red eyes scoured over the growing audience. Her first mark had arrived on time and alone. She zoomed in on his face; as a professional courtesy, Dahlia liked to know every detail of her target. Mentally confirming, she leaned into her rifle and took aim.

Her gaze flicked downwards, to her new "employer". He was causally sitting in his seat, smoking again. Dahlia neither smiled nor frowned at the sight of Alexei. The man was professional and ruthless, but he did have a sense of humor. Even though most of the time Dahlia didn't understand his jokes. One of the things she liked about him, was that he never treated her like a tool. Unlike other employers she had previously been with. The velvet curtain rose and the opera was on it's way. Dahlia's attention went back to her target. Occasionally she would glance down at Alexei; after the first act a couple joined him. Dahlia recognized them both, having read their files. All the pieces seemed to be in play, now it was time to make a move.

Red orbs focused on her boss. She could see his lips moving, Dahlia may not have had super hearing but she could tell what Alexei was saying. Both men were looking up at the man in the box who was about to die. Choosing to flick on the laser sight for a dramatic effect, Dahlia loaded the rifle. She left the laser on for a few more seconds before switching it off, it wasn't like she needed the silly thing anyway but Dahlia knew it would have made Alexei happy. Her eyes zoomed in on the man's chest, just over his heart.

Most snipers would concern themselves with head shots. While Dahlia did enjoy those as well, especially when she could see it as if she was standing two feet away from her target, it would be too much of a mess for the current area. Pure stealth was required for this shot. Crimson eyes calculated the distance and drop of the bullet, all without a scope or spotter. Timing the music to it's crescendo, Dahlia fired. She had chosen a slightly smaller caliber bullet for this evening, deciding on it's speed and impact over power. For her, choosing a bullet for a specific kill was like choosing a particular pair of shoes for an even out, it had to have the right feel for her.

Dahlia could see the man's shocked face as he was rocked back in his chair slightly. He slumped forward slightly as if he had fallen asleep. Nodding with satisfaction, Dahlia picked up her rifle a moved swiftly yet silently to the next point for her next kill. Her black ball gown swirled around her as she got into position and waited for Alexei.

((Out of Commonsense: Hope you like it!))
Location: Mariinsky Theatre
With: No one
Mood: Calm

Symorin

[Symorin]

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❝If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared...❞

♔

❝...For men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries - for heavy ones they cannot.❞

Alexei grinned, watching those disgusting, pudgy lips sloop down into a frown. Sergei's eyes widened so much that it looked like they would pop from his skull. He began to get up, only for Alexei to place a hand on his chest. "Sit." He commanded, though his tone lacked anger. "The ballet isn't even done yet, you want to see Romeo and Juliet ending, no? It's quite a tragic play, you see." The man growled, placing a large hand on Alexei's wrist and beginning to twist it away. "Plus there's the fact if you leave, my friend will splatter your [********] brains all across the aisle, so sit down." His tone was firm, eventually Sergei released his arm and sat in his seat. Alexei rubbed his wrist.

"Nice. Quite nice. Regardless, over there is your Sovietnik-- and oh, it seems that Lady Dahlia has already taken care of him too." He grinned, noting the "sleeping" man in one of the balconies. Across the opera house, more and more men related to Sergei began to "sleep". Alexei had to resist the urge to cackle at Sergei's increasing panic. "Fear not, Sergei. I don't plan on her shooting you." He patted the man's shoulder. Sergei looked over at him, lips sealed shut tightly, skin pale, his eyes a sickly yellow color. "...You're already dead. You'll find I'm smoking the only safe cigarette in this box...The rest had their filters quite thoroughly coated in a layer of wolfsbane." He grinned, pointing to a single empty sleeve he kept the cigarette in. Separate from all the rest and with a blue button knitted to it for good measure.

Sergei tried to cough, foam was forming around his mouth, yet he was unable to get a scream out. Alexei kept his arm pressed against the man's chest, to keep him from falling onto the ground. In the end he merely slumped over, 'asleep' with the rest of his goons. Alexei turned to face the now horrified man's "accomplice". He offered her a small grin. "I said I don't intend to shoot him, poisoning is another thing entirely. Fear not, beautiful, I have no intent to kill you." He smiled gently at her, leaning back in his seat. "Just do not scream, do not accuse me, and do not give me a reason to have you mauled by a few hounds, mh?" The woman had tears in her eyes as she nodded, unable to even look at the dancers now. Alexei chuckled, happily turning his attention back to the play. They'd just reached the final part of act one. Romeo had finally discovered Juliet at the ball and their tragic romance had 'begun'. Now the curtains were pulled and it was time for a brief intermission. Most of Sergei's men would have been killed by Dahlia at this point.

Alexei stood, happily leaving the corpse of Sergei and his devastated 'lady-friend' behind. When he slipped out of the main theatre, he withdrew his cellphone and dialed Dahlia's number. Waiting until she answered, he'd have nothing but praise for her. "You work efficiently, Lady Dahlia. I imagine my empire will be back in my hands by tomorrow morning. I also noted that little trick with the laser sight. You treat me too well, friend~" In his entire career as a criminal, he'd never encountered a more efficient and useful ally than Dahlia. It was rather amazing that she hadn't been recruited by any other organizations yet!

[matinaru]

Ɖαнℓια βℓαcκωαтɛя

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"Boom, head shot."

►Needless to say, Dahlia was amused slightly by the shocked expression on the bald man's face. Her gaze landed on the woman next to the dying man. It would be easy to take her out, though she knew that Alexei wouldn't care for it. Dahlia didn't always agree with his methods, humans can be unpredictable and simply scaring someone doesn't always work. Crimson eyes focused on her dark haired boss; the game was over. Pulling back from her rifle, Dahlia skillfully broke it down and slipped it back into its' violin case. She wiped down the area with ammonia then moved back to her first position to do the same. Dahlia knew that the police wouldn't be able to trace her bullets, having made them herself but it was a routine for operations such as these.

The five foot four woman slipped her three in heels back on and descended the stairs. A gentle vibration tore Dahlia from her current thoughts of dinner. She slipped quickly into the ladies room and pulled up the hem of her dress. On her thigh was a small caliber handgun, a six inch knife and her cell phone, all clipped in a harness around her pale leg. Of course it was Alexei, calling to congratulate her on her shot. Dahlia didn't need her ego to be fluffed, she knew she was the best but she let the man talk anyway. At his remark about the laser sight Dahlia spoke for the first time that evening. "I thought it fit the mood for the evening, sir." Dahlia hung up and exited the ladies room, continuing down the stairs until she met Alexei in the Grand Foyer.

She still looked as if she had just stepped out of her car, makeup was pristine and the same could be said for her hair. Dahlia stopped in front of Alexei and inclined her head to him. "I am pleased that you are satisfied with my performance tonight." There were a few ushers in the foyer that would be able to hear their conversation. She had killed every single associate of the late Sergei Polzin. Dahlia walked with her employer outside, "Do you think it wise to leave his wife alive?" Her lips formed into a slight frown; it was rare that Dahlia even showed emotions such as this.

Her stomach rumbled slightly and she shifted hands with her "violin" case. Dahlia wanted a large medium rare steak with a pile of fries. Never mind that she had watch a man's heart explode backwards out of his chest by her deadly aim. Letting work get in the way of her appetite was illogical. The night air was brisk but she didn't pay it any attention. Calm eyes looked up to Alexei. "Do you have another assignment for me, if not I am rather hungry." She was sure that Alexei would find it amusing that she was hungry after just killing a man in cold blood. For some reason he always thought what she did was "cute" or "entertaining". Dahlia didn't understand these notions.

((Out of Commonsense: ))
Location: Outside the Mariinsky Theatre
With: Alexei
Mood: Hungry

Symorin

[Symorin]

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❝If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared...❞

♔

❝...For men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries - for heavy ones they cannot.❞

Alexei eyed Dahlia casually, a small grin on his face. "The dress looks quite nice on you, Lady Dahlia." He bowed his head to the white-haired assassin, folding his hands behind his back and continuing forward. "Sometimes mercy should be given out, though only when you're positive the person behind it cannot claim revenge. That... wife of his married him for the money, while he married her for the looks. If she hadn't killed most of her brain cells through a copious use of narcotics and actually fostered some mob connections.... she'd potentially be a threat." He shrugged his shoulders. "But for now, she's merely the widow of Mr. Polzin, her only use will be spreading word that if anyone tries to claim my territory, then even if I'm at a disadvantage, it'll just lead to them and their organization being ended. Swiftly."

Alexei threw his burnt out cigarette into the garbage bin, he sub consciously reached for another... only to remind himself they were poisoned. He'd have to dispose of them and buy some more later. "I'm afraid I don't have any assignment for you at the moment, but I'd be more than happy to buy you some food, if you're interested of course." He chuckled lightly, her complete, almost sociopathic dissonance from from what just transpired was rather funny to him... though it did make him wonder if he was a sociopath as well, considering what he was laughing over. "I actually have a... proposition of sorts, we can discuss over dinner." He grinned at the assassin. "What do you say? Interested?"

[matinaru]

Ɖαнℓια βℓαcκωαтɛя

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"Boom, head shot."

►Dahlia nodded, acknowledging the complement that Alexei had given her. Most normal women would probably blush and be pleased with the remark, but Dahlia thought it slightly redundant. Of course she looked good, she had dressed logically for the operation. She kept her thoughts to herself; crimson eyes noticed her boss fiddling with his silver cigarette case then choose to put it away. Dahlia made a quick educated guess that they probably had been tampered with, most likely by Alexei. He did love to play the game Russia Roulette in many forms. She made a mental note to grab the unused pack out of her car. It was professional courtesy.

She listened silently to his words as he showed her the logic behind his mercy. Still, Dahlia didn't like it but couldn't deny the woman may be potentially useful and if she did turn out to be a "threat", Dahlia would make quick work of her. At the promise of food, she nodded slowly. Her curiosity peaked at this proposition that Alexei wanted discuss with her. His ideas were typically profitable, so Dahlia nodded.

Reaching down into the bosom of her dress, Dahlia pulled out her keys to her Aston Martin. "You are treating me to dinner, I will drive us there." The calm statement was absolute, not really giving Alexei much choice in the matter. Dahlia turned on her stiletto heel and walked over to her sleek black British monster. She of course had it customized by one of the various machine shops Alexei had owned. It was made mostly of carbon fiber, making light but she had the frame and engine block made from titanium and aluminum. The wind screen and windows were bullet proof. Just for kicks, Dahlia had them install a v12 engine.

She clicked a button on the key fob, the doors unlocked and opened for them. Dahlia popped the trunk and set her violin case into it's depths before getting into the driver's seat. The interior of the vehicle was custom red and black leather sewing. With the dash being black and chrome. Ruby red eyes looked over to Alexei has he climbed in. Dahlia didn't care if his masculinity was bruised, she wanted to drive. Turning over the engine, the black beast purred under them. She slipped on a pair of black driving gloves and gazed forward. "Where would you like to go?"

((Out of Commonsense: Lol, couldn't resist.))
Location: Dahlia's car
With: Alexei
Mood: Calm

Symorin

[Symorin]

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❝If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared...❞

♔

❝...For men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries - for heavy ones they cannot.❞

Alexei grinned, he had to admire Dahlia's taste in cars. "Well, I have no issue with you driving us, Dahlia, though I'll admit it seems un-gentlemanly of me." He entered into the passenger's seat, relaxing against the very expensive lining of the seats. "Mmh, as for restaurants how about the Bellevue Brasserie? It has a great view of the city and if you aren't a fan of Russian food... they serve some Mediterranean dishes as well." He had some decent respect for Italy. While the government there was so hilarious they made politicians here look clean, they had good food and the crime syndicates there were rather respectful.

"It's by the moika river, if you need directions." Alexei knew the restaurant was rather... upscale. Still, he'd retaken his city. That was something to celebrate. Eyeing Dahlia casually, he decided he may as well begin this conversation early. "Tell me, Dahlia... do you know how much of a cut your company takes out of the money I pay you?" He wasn't sure just -how- loyal to the company she was... but she was skilled and recruiting her would only be a boon to his group.

[matinaru]

Ɖαнℓια βℓαcκωαтɛя

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"Boom, head shot."

►Noting the restaurant in question, Dahlia drove down the streets of St. Petersburg. The walk ways and streets were fairly empty. Unlike natives, Dahlia didn't have a dash camera to record incidents. She thought if anyone was stupid enough to attempt insurance fraud on her, Dahlia would kill them anyway. On the straighter roads, she shifted gears and sped up, enjoying the feel of the engine.

Pulling up the restaurant a valet walked over to the passenger door. He was a little puzzled with he opened it to find Alexei. Dahlia emerged from the driver's side and walked around. The still confused valet took a step back, the white-blonde now 5' 8" woman slipped her keys into his breast pocket. She leaned in close and whispered in the poor man's ear, "Скретч краску и я убью тебя." Dahlia took the parking number from the man's hand and waited for Alexei. She didn't mind Russian food, the carbohydrates were perfect for this climate.

((Out of Commonsense: ))
Location: Bellevue Brasserie
With: Alexei and scared valet
Translation: "Скретч краску и я убью тебя." : (Russian) "Scratch the paint and I'll kill you."
Mood: Hungry

Symorin

[Symorin]

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❝If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared...❞

♔

❝...For men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries - for heavy ones they cannot.❞

Alexei chuckled at the confused valet. "I'd be careful." He said in their native tongue. "She really means it." Alexei soon followed after Dahlia, hands slipping behind his back. "So, tell me, Dahlia... how are you enjoying Russia? The work here is steady, no?" He grinned at her. "We may not have as much funds as the Cartels, nor the same traditions as the Yakuza but we make up for it with... well, let's call it 'ambition'." He managed to get them a seat quickly, it seems he frequented this restaurant long enough for them to know his face... and who he was.

Worrying, to a degree, but without any hard evidence it wasn't too much of a problem. The cops would be on his side if the chips fell down. Most of them, anyways. As he walked up the stairs, he looked down at Dahlia behind him. "Tell me, Dahlia... have you ever been curious why, when the Cartels have most of the money and the Yakuza have the most 'sympathy' from the government, it's the organizatsiya that people fear the most?" He smiled at the assassin, finally reaching the top of the stairs, a wall of glass panes lightly fogged by frost gave them a beautiful view of St. Petersburg. Their waitress laid two menus on a small table, closest to the window, and left to get them some water. "Ever wonder how I was able to find your company and hire you when I wasn't some dictator or billionaire CEO?"

[matinaru]

Ɖαнℓια βℓαcκωαтɛя

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"Boom, head shot."

►Dahlia understood what Alexei was implying. He basically wanted to know if she liked working with him. Keeping her eyes forward she walked in step with the man, "I have." Her words were simple and to the point. Dahlia had never been the type to beat around the bush. She refrained from answering his question until they were seated. Relaxing slightly in her seat Dahlia leveled her gaze at Alexei, she decided to answer his question with a question of her own. "Alexei, do you know what a trained attack dog does?"

She paused for a moment, watching his features with her crimson eyes before speaking again. "It does what its master tells it to. Yes, that is what I am supposed to be and with other organizations or syndicates that is how I am treated." Dahlia paused once more as the waitress came back with water, she looked up at the woman. "У меня будет Белый русский." She turned her attention back to Alexei and gave him a small smile. "I'm assuming you liked my services?" Slipping her hand causally into the bosom of her dress, Dahlia pulled out an unopened pack of Alexei's cigarettes. She set them down and pushed it across the table.

((Out of Commonsense: ))
Location: Bellevue Brasserie
With: Alexei
Translation: "У меня будет Белый русский.": (Russian) "I will have a White Russian."
Mood: Interested

Symorin

[Symorin]

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❝If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared...❞

♔

❝...For men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries - for heavy ones they cannot.❞

Alexei smirked at her example of an attack dog. He wasn't sure if she had a low opinion of herself. "The difference between you and an attack dog, however, is that an attack dog isn't more efficient than the master at making sure people die." He quickly turned her attention to the waitress, smiling politely at her. "просто кока-кола для меня ... диета, пожалуйста." When the waitress disappeared with their drink order, Alexei breathed. "A Russian that doesn't drink. I'm not poor, either, so I'm sure somewhere in the world an American is panicking." His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Though all funny business aside, Alexei heavily looked down on drinking. After all, it cost his father his life... and he was playing roulette far too much when it came to cigarettes to pile on the added risk of drinking.

"Regardless... let's get back to talking about you, eh?" He chuckled lightly. "How much do you think your company takes from your pay? I'm just curious." He dealt with the company enough to know how it operated. He found it's lack of honesty towards a star asset to be almost insulting. Thankfully, he'd teach them a lesson in humility, if all went according to his plans tonight.

(( просто кока-кола для меня ... диета пожалуйста = "Just Coca Cola for me... diet, please." ))

[matinaru]

Ɖαнℓια βℓαcκωαтɛя

======== ☠ ========

"Boom, head shot."

►Crimson eyes locked onto Alexei's cool orbs. There was the faintest hint of a smile on her pale lips as she sat back to take him in. Assessing him. Dahlia knew he was confident, even a gambler at times but he had always made results. Before take the first couple of jobs for him, Dahlia had looked into Alexei's history intimately. He was adaptable and smart. Both lucrative qualities to have in his line of work.

She exhaled a soft breath at his question about her company. Strictly speaking, there was no love lost on her end of the equation. Dahlia merely saw them as presumptuous assholes, at least the administration board. Growing up, Dahlia had very little contact with that part of the company until she was ready for missions. She mostly was close to her personal trainers and the scientists that made sure her eyes were functioning at high performance. It was those people that she actually, truly cared about. Acting like they were gods. As far as her pay was concerned, "I set the figures for each assignment; half up front and half after completion. The administration board takes about a quarter from each."

Her voice was calm, but it was apparent in her eyes that Dahlia disliked the management of the company she worked for. She had personally wanted to be free to choose who she worked for and now be dictated. Dahlia understood that she had debts to pay but she also knew that they would use her like a cash cow if they wanted to. The waitress returned with their drinks and waited to see if they wanted to order an appetizer. Dahlia had already memorized the menu, her intense gaze locked on their poor waitress. "Мы начнем с Bruschetta."

((Out of Commonsense: ))
Location: Bellevue Brasserie
With: Alexei
Mood: Mildly annoyed
Translation: "Мы начнем с Bruschetta." : (Russian) "We'll start with Bruschetta."

Symorin

[Symorin]

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❝If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared...❞

♔

❝...For men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries - for heavy ones they cannot.❞

Alexei didn't stop grinning as she mentioned her pay figure. He opened his mouth to speak, only for the waitress to ask if they wanted any appetizers. Alexei shook his head, waving her off after Dahlia ordered Bruschetta. Once the waitress had left, Alexei turned his attention back to Dahlia. "Mmhm, that is the contract we made. However it didn't take me long to learn of the... stipulations they seem to enjoy." Alexei reclined back in his chair. "I was contacted not long after you'd begun working with me by your... company. I was expected to pay for your weapons... and oddly enough, when I offered actual weapons to supply you with instead of cash, they were rather insistent in saying I needed to pay them directly."

He took a long sip of the diet coke, smacking his lips and letting out a pleasant sigh once he was done. It seemed Alexei really liked Coca Cola. "...After that, I was approached with several offers I'm not sure you were properly informed about. I could pay them a few thousand monthly to ensure that I'm never a target of you. I even had one of them send me a call, never making any specific offer, but he was quite serious when he said that if I found you... visually pleasing, he could arrange for 'some fun'." Alexei flashed her a serious look. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you what that implies." Of all of those company goons, he found the last one to be the worst. He had only a few standards, but he found "human trafficking" to be one line he was completely unwilling to cross.

[matinaru]

Ɖαнℓια βℓαcκωαтɛя

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"Boom, head shot."

►Her rage was controlled completely, not letting the slightest emotions come to her face. Dahlia calmly took a sip of her White Russian and looked out of the window at their view, the city lights. She wasn't entirely surprised at the administration board's offers to Alexei. His last comment made her eyes harden ever so slightly. "I've known for a while; they think they are so sneaky and clever. Though that last offer is news to me, but I have an idea as to who made it to you." She spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact manner. Detaching herself completely for the situation.

Dahlia took another sip, this one a little more deeper. She set the glass down lightly and turned her gaze back to Alexei. "But you see, it's how I pay off my debts to my ever so generous bosses." Dahlia's voice was dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. She was only a tool to the company and they treated her as such. Dahlia sat back in her chair once more, as the waitress returned with the Bruschetta and two plates. She waited for her to leave before serving herself a slice. The appetizer was light and flavorful.

She took another slice but paused before eating it. For the first time, Dahlia did not meet Alexei's gaze. "Besides, I am merely their tool that they can throw away at any time." She didn't want to say it outright but inside her brain was a chip. It served as a tracker and possible kill switch. Dahlia had been blissfully unaware of the chip until one of her scientists' friends had quietly told her. The rational part of her mind justified it but somewhere inside her heart, Dahlia felt violated.

((Out of Commonsense: ))
Location: Bellevue Brasserie
With: Alexei
Mood: Bitter
Translation:

Symorin

[Symorin]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx⊹⊱ A L E X E I x V O L K O V ⊰⊹xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

❝If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared...❞

♔

❝...For men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries - for heavy ones they cannot.❞

He tried his best to read her expression. It was something he was rather good at. He looked for anything, from the subtle twitch of her eyes to the curling of her fingers. What he got in return, was nothing. It seemed she either had no care for anything she told him... or she was very good at pretending to be an emotionless machine. Leaning back, he took one large gulp of the coke. There wasn't much left after that. "Oh? Now... who says you must work for them?" He leaned forward, still smiling. "Tell me... if I were to pay you and you alone, including the company's cut... what would you say to working for me and me alone?"

He was grinning, a cool and mellow look of preparedness ruled his countenance... though in reality he was quite excited. He was wondering just what her reaction would be and secretly hoping she'd choose to work for him. "You'd be making more money... and I'd say I'm a less intrusive boss than most, no?"