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New Allies
#11
The place was crawling with security. Personal, maybe undercover police, specially since it was a Yakuza party. Though it seemed like a lot for just a regular dealing, Nhyssa was right probably a lot to do with politics, of which Li had no interest. Monsters didn't delve into the realms of politics. But that was truly a lie, if the Ascendancy was a god, and a god was technically a monster the Atharaim hunted, then they did get involved in politics. The most powerful man on the planet truly was the most powerful man on the planet. At least from the sense Li had from the man's usage of the power.

But that was for another time, another person. Li hunted little before while on a shoot. Mostly underground, things he could hide in the shadows. Now though he was a drift in a world where the Atharim might decide he was worth hunting down. But so far they'd not shown themselves to him. He was such a minor worry. They didn't know he was a god. Well they did, but they were choosing to ignore that. Li knew without a shadow of a doubt that they had their fingers in the data the Ascendancy had requested which meant they knew everything the consulates did.

But there was a party to enjoy and a beautiful women sharing food to admire. "Not the traditional. A small taste, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your sweets." He smiled playfully at the darkness in front of him. Flirting with it was probably more fun than he'd had in ages. He hoped the enigma remained for quite some time.

"The Yakuza spared no expense for whatever it is they are showering their people with. Shall we wander and see what other treasures they have to offer?" Li offered his elbow, though he didn't expect the chivalry to be accepted, it was gentlemanly to offer and she deserved to be treated like a Lady even if she doth protest.
“What you must do," said Monkey, "is lure the monster from its hiding place, but be certain it is a fight you can survive.” 
― Wu Cheng'en, Monkey: The Journey to the West

biography


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#12
The streets were crowded. There weren't enough Syndicate allies in plain clothes to make Yun feel comfortable, but the Yakuza leaders were drinking and carrying on like there was no threat. Yun of course saw their men roaming about, but they weren't her men.

Yun caught a glimpse of Sarkozy's fuming head. She could almost see the gears turning in his head while he waited to take her down. They all thought that once upon a time in the beginning, until they accepted their servitude. His father had been broken, she'd break him too. It was interesting the differences in Vega and Sarkozy. Both here by coercion yet, Vega played the game. He had been Atharim, and that was his only usefulness, though his boy toy channeler was a nuisance to be dealt with - if she could ever find him again. Vega and Sarkozy would talk when she asked next, but right now the Yakuza captured her attention.

There were to be fireworks when the sky dimmed enough. The whole spectical planed out in advance. Yun glanced at her wallet for the time, another 40 minutes before the show would start. And the noise would cover any ill desired noises.
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#13
“Oh, you couldn’t deprive me of that if you tried,” she laughed, and it was not the pastry in her hand she was talking about. Dark eyes glittered, sun-starved, as she offered up a bite. The welcoming smile of an invitation tugged her lips, none too subtle.

He was perfectly edible.

Around them it was not yet dark, but the shadows had begun to pool in the deeper crevices, aided by the bright lights of stalls and music. Some might say they were darker in the flood beneath Nhysa’s feet, though it was probably a trick of the eye. It wasn’t until she first left the pits of the Facility that she had truly learned she saw the world through different eyes. All the broken and scuttling things even an Atharim like Li might be surprised to learn existed; the things that hid and slunk and lived in the periphery, rarely bothering humanity. Like the dark currently purring around her ankles and urging her feet to move.

Yes, yes, dear one.

Normal was a novelty, but not something she particularly cherished. It was the dichotomy that lured her, that knife-edge balance between light and dark like a lover’s tangle. Watching the merriment around them was cute as a button, but not a world she had any desire to truly live in. He offered an arm like the precious thing he was, and Nhysa’s slipped through, amused. It was an excuse for touch as anything else; to slide her hand along the hard muscles of his arm, and absorb the heat radiating from his body. Darkness possessed what it touched. Though maybe he ought to beware she did not swallow him whole.

She led the way, watching the adorable throngs of people as much as the entertainment laid on for their benefit. Or rather to say the dark led, for it nipped every now and then at her ankles like it suspected she had forgotten why they were here. “Do you know what happened to the wolf at the club?” A job had intervened last they met, and she had not sought an answer to that. It was the handler she was truly interested in, of course, but the wolf formed the crux of Li’s philosophical conflict that night -- the true nature of her query now. Whether the thorny questions of their conversation pulled him from his sunlit path, or if he strode on unchanged.
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#14
If flattery were uncommon Li might have blushed but it wasn't. The price you paid for living in the lime light, though he didn't take Nhyssa's jovial laugh and her own flirting as insincere. He was sure that the woman could break him if she desired. His one advantage being the gift inside, though he would never hurt another with it. He wouldn't teach the gift to hurt the innocent because of his own beliefs. Even the Atharim couldn't take that from him.

The pastry was sweet and not traditional but it was lovely despite that fact. It had been a long time since he'd traveled to Japan. It might be good to go there again one day. Though he wasn't sure his movie career would take him there any longer. But that hardly mattered. He could slip into silver oblivion with happiness. It wasn't a normal life he wanted but he'd take it if the Atharim left him alone.

Nhyssa's question caught him by surprise, not because of the topic but that he'd forgotten of the injured wolf. He'd not given him a second thought. "Sadly, I do not. I imagine he's still locked up in a cage. They have medics and such to take care of the beast... man's condition." The change of heart was still new to him. The wolfkin had been a prisoner of circumstance, and still was. But it wasn't his problem anymore, he was no longer Atharim. They would hunt him as soon as the monsters below. "Though the revelation from below has inspired me to teach those willing to learn." Not just the monsters, the dedication he was taught from the monks to hunt such monsters. Though he was really only teaching a bunch of snotty little rich kids how to hurt other haughty little rich kids, but there was promise in some of them.

As if summoned from his own thoughts Li caught a glimpse of a familiar face, though he had no intention of going over to the pair standing smoking a cigar when he had a pretty lady on his arm. Specially when he knew the potential fireworks could happen, and not the good kind.
“What you must do," said Monkey, "is lure the monster from its hiding place, but be certain it is a fight you can survive.” 
― Wu Cheng'en, Monkey: The Journey to the West

biography


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#15
Mik couldn't help but smir at the spectacle around him. He loved the press of crowds, the high energy, the smells and music and heat, and voices. It was a firestorm and he was at home inside it. Ryker was lounging, relaxed. Funny how things were different from the first time they met. This Ryker was far more enjoyable. Mik sensed that deep down, he was capable of almost anything. And he liked that quality.

He took the cigar, with a grin. "Thanks, brateek! Yeah, I gotcha!" One hand went to his red leather jacket pocket to finger the lighter. His pupils dilated and he inhaled sharply as the power rushed into him, felt the struggle and fight as he beat it down. The crowds and the sounds and the smells and everything got louder and stronger, as if they had crawled into his flesh. The firestorm whipped into a frenzy and he felt the flames lick around him. God, he was in ecstasy, as if he writhed in the heart of universe.

He saw her, then. Dear God, but she was beautiful. For some reason, today she once again wore the face of Ori. She always took different forms. Sveta and Sita, Rowen and Rina. And so many others. Today, her blood red nails were long and she wore a wicked smile. He laughed to himself. Yep. She had something up for tonight.

That feeling of pleasure and worry swirled through him. They usually went together when she was around.

A flame- touched with earth to be green because it amused him- flicked to life at the end of Ryker's cigar. A few puffs made the tip bright orange. The flame swirled playfully to his own and the hot taste on his tongue. He savored it for a moment and then pulled it out, looking at the wrapper. Cuban. He smiled, enjoying the lingering sensation on his tongue. "Dude! This is good shit!"

Another puff. "So, what's up?"
"Good and ill. 
We're like the wind, 
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
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#16
Oriena sauntered through the revellers, the flicker of a smile on her lips, though the source of her amusement was unclear. There was a wicked glitter in her gaze, brushing up and down those who met her eye like the allure of a crooked finger; held a beat then gone, as was she. She did not slow or pause. 

Some faces she recognised; some clearly recognised her too. None held her attention.

Her blood burned hot as she followed the vein to its beating heart, the thrill of a formless anticipation shivering against her skin like a lover’s touch. A reckless curiosity, but if one was going to take a gamble why exercise caution at all? Maybe it would end bloody; at worst, well… she was more curious than afraid, at least. (she walks amongst the rotting dead, O Lady of Sorrows, the torn hem of her robe caressing grey flesh and cold viscera, while in the distance hang the burning torches of funeral pyres) For a moment horror shuddered through the light splashed food carts, uninvited and unannounced; memory that was not memory, slipping from her mind like oil on water almost as soon as it hit her. It never penetrated far, and never left more than a disturbing sense of duality.

Fuck but she hoped that faded.

By now the pavilion was up ahead. Ori had little interest in power; not the sort desired by most, anyway. She certainly coveted no thrones. But the shifts and spikes and balances of it drew her like nectar, a game with which to toy like a kitten with string. Yun Kao knew her predilections. The Syndicate had as much use for Ori as Ori had interest in it, which was as much to say the woman had no reason to welcome her. Yet her stride did not pause, cutting through the lines of gift-givers until a hand grabbed her wrist. For a moment the clench of Ori’s muscles urged a physical retaliation; hungered for it. But it was only the power that unfurled, intricate and cloying as maggots on a corpse.

“Come now, I’m a friend.” A careless smile; an insolent wink. She was surprised and then amused when she felt the loosening of those fingers. The man nodded like she spoke an obvious truth. It was that easy.

And that boring.

For a moment her intent waned. Manipulation with no sting was an unappetising meal; she had precious little interest in victory when it lacked any challenge. Still, she ought to be pleased it had worked, even if it did not spark the pleasure she had anticipated. Her fingers wrapped where his hand still rested, more escort than security now, then glanced up ahead to where those in the chairs were beginning to stir faint interest in the brief disturbance. It was only their vantage she wanted; an easy way to observe the gathering. They held this celebration in the palm of their hands, for whatever ends they intended. Oriena did not care. She had her own.

It did not take much persuasion to urge him to take her on, not with the threads burrowing under his skull. They flowed and divided once she drew closer, and seeped their poison into a new target. Though she doubted it was mutual Ori had always liked Yun; or her ruthlessness, at least -- it was not like the woman had ever been fun. The touch of power she extended was light, as was the tease of her smile as she stepped into their territory. It was a welcome she solicited, and only from Yun. The rest she ignored. 

“Hello, beautiful. Did you save me a chair?” Low laughter followed, darkly amused to watch the woman smooth her intrusion like Oriena were the closest of companions. There was something bitter in it though, watching that loss of will. Too late to regret now, though.

[[Yun moded with permission]]
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#17
Business was business but today wasn't about that it was about what the Syndicate could help the Yakuza with and what they could reciprocate back. Right now it was protection. They cared about their people and that was what they did. Tomorrow was another day.

Gifts were dropped off and little commotion was made until a familiar face strolled up like she owned the place. At first Yun thought there might be an altercation, but with simple words the situation defused itself and their bouncer type brought her up without so much as a 'may i'. Who did she think she was?

But even that thought soon dissipated as the woman approached. Yun waved a hand for Oriena to take a seat. The club owner had looked better, but everyone was due a down day. Today wasn't about that. "Absolutely." The strangeness of the conversation struck a cord but Yun couldn't really figure out why. But there was a compelling reason somewhere inside her that said it was alright. One Yun couldn't quash in favor of being anti-social.

The Yakuza only looked slightly miffed at the intrusion and carried on with their delightful evening. The fireworks would start soon and then Yun could leave, the Yakuza had other business arrangements to make, and that was the true reason the Syndicate was here, to keep that from going sideways. The festival just a guise for the back door dealings. And in the end Yun would have herself her own stash of these god killing weapons. Thank you Vega, she thought to herself with a happy smile.
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#18
Nhysa tilted her head at the self-correction, the white flash of her smile genuinely pleased at the widening of that crack in his views. Broken and remolded, like gold veined Kintsugi. Li did not seem to worry either way over the wolf’s fate, and she did not find fault with it, though her own instincts were more motherly. Not that she had had cause to spare it much thought before now, but perhaps she would check upon him. Even Jaxen she might choose to watch following the pathetic snivel of his tears into the floor of his own apartment. An errant child, that one. Despite her kindly warnings, she doubted their dealings were yet done. He seemed the type to be slow to learn the patterns of his own errors.

By then she could feel her shadowy companion’s frustration with her straying attention, but she turned to nudge Li in the ribs. It was a playful accusation, like he had purposefully concealed his epiphany from her.“Where?” she demanded, but if the jab was sharp there was a sultry cast to her smile. A brow rose. “I’m willing,” she added.

When he’d brushed the hair from her face at the Almaz she’d seen nothing of how he did it; not like she could when other women used the same shadows (she could feel the use of that power now, as a matter of fact, but was currently paying it no mind, though the dark had proceeded to dig its little claws in the shadows beneath her neck; she could hear it hissing). He could not teach her that, but she would relish the opportunity to dance with him. She would be able to make the time. Another job had lined up, but the mark was overseas and her employers dithered over whether they should be collected or allowed to first return of their own volition. Well, this one was not a mark precisely. Another unruly Custody child; another easy job.

“Perhaps I might also teach you a thing or two.” She winked. There was levity to her tone, though in truth her own training had been brutal, crossing wires in her brain that would never be untangled. She would not wish that upon so bright as soul as his, besides which it was part of his allure. The dark light of the moon always chased the sun did it not? Almaz offered no real challenges; not like he might.
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#19
Nhyssa wasn't an avid watcher of the television it seemed. He knew the ads had been running, but he smiled mischievously. He would love to have Nhyssa in the ring, teaching or being taught, either way would be adventurous. "Oh this little place called The Monkey King's School of the Mystical Arts." Li gave the vaguest of directions, it wasn't fancy, but it was his own private venture, no investors to get bogged down. He grinned at Nyssa, "There is a commercial playing, maybe I'll have them play it on one of the billboards." He teased. Yes he was using his fame and his personality to get customers, and that was 99% of who came. Others were like Mik who wanted to know more.

And while the remark had been mostly in jest, Li decided to get his marketing team on it to target the city itself. How many other homeless Atharim were looking for a place? How many of his brethren wanted to do more. Moscow had fallen, and the Atharim hadn't yet recovered from the loss of their leader despite the new one in place. This one was just not pulling people home. New factions were being born every day. Why not profit off of them all.

"It would be me honor to learn from someone such as your self." Li's tone was jovial, he enjoyed the playful banter with this dark mistress.

They walked and Li smiled he knew there was ulterior motives, he enjoyed her company but he didn't want to be too much of a distraction. With the same playful tone he asked, "So what's the real reason you invited me along on this adventure?" He smiled happiliy "Not that it can't be purely pleasure, but what's the point in doing a job if you can't have a little fun doing it too?" Li didn't mind being the alibi, or the ruse, or whatever it was. He truly enjoyed her company, and told her as much, "Not that I'm complaining, or mind. No place I'd rather be right now."
“What you must do," said Monkey, "is lure the monster from its hiding place, but be certain it is a fight you can survive.” 
― Wu Cheng'en, Monkey: The Journey to the West

biography


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#20
He was teasing. The white tips of her teeth showed an indulging smile, amused by the banality of a television commercial -- or at the gulf between their worlds. It was easy to forget who he was when she knew the little dark crevices of his secret world, and the monsters that dwelt within it. Nhysa laughed. Li was recognisable to anyone who truly cared to look, and even in jest she had no wish to remind the drifting crowds around them of his identity. She leaned to his ear, smirking. “I think I would rather not share.”

The bald accusation of her duplicity was met with acceptance and not a hint of embarrassment. Rather her smile hooked a little deeper, a glint of calculation flaring the depths of her eyes. Had this been a job perhaps she would have been less inclined to honesty, though in that case she would not have invited Li along at all. “You remember the girl at the Almaz? The one with the wolf? She keeps unexpected company, don’t you think.” A brief incline of her head indicated behind, though she did not look; she did not need to, with the glow of intricate power that bloomed from that direction.
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