[Nexus] MURDER I: Causing Fear Since About Five Minutes Ago.

[Slii Arhem]

He hovers up higher, as a person would if straightening indignantly

Son if you had a brain I could melt it out of your ears. Every mental trick I know that isn't for show is fatal, bar none. I have no use for weapons, armor, sustenance or rest, just a brain and the know-how to use it right.

He seems to deflate a bit at this point

That said, I'm pretty much only good for do or die, and even then only against those targets of the fleshier persuasion. I'm not exactly the perfect killer is what I'm saying, and I know my limits. However, as you may have noted, I'm more suited to the, shall we say, subtler forms of nefarious deeds you may come across.

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

The Operative considers this. "Essentially, then, your skills are mainly in reconnaissance and assassinating mundane targets." Virtually useless against other psions or even mages, but it had its uses.

[Slii Arhem]

Again, he looks as offended as a floating brain can get.

Mundane? Hardly, I've wasted mages with enough power at their fingertips to roast a continent. The thing is, against a machine or a zombie, heck even freaking houseplant, I'm as useless as the next mook come in off the street. Take the brain out of the equation and I got nothing, or close to it anyway.

Another face takes shape, this time a grizzled PI who stares into the Operatives reflective goggles quizzically.

You aint much for talking are you?

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

The brain won't find any sort of eyes or face behind that gas mask. "Perhaps you were able to destroy very powerful mages where you come from, but the Nexus is very different." In response to the question, the ghost simply stares. "I prefer to get things done." Rather ironic, considering his members' slow approach to things.

[Slii Arhem]

The face mimes a cough before dissapating.

So is there a form I need to fill out or something? Your standards are probably pretty high, so if there's a test I'm game for that. And hey, if you don't need me, the gunk is yours in exchange for what I'm asking for, like we discussed.

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

Normally, the Operative would get out a form for filling, but he's not entirely sure about it this time around. "I've already seen your disguising abilities for myself. Useful, I think. As for your psionics, they're far too specific to truly test here."

[Slii Arhem]

Well...

A sly grin, and nothing else, springs to being.

Tell you what, I'll go get your payment, and maybe we'll see about getting you a demonstration.

With that he floats out of the office without so much as a by your leave, and hauls away up the elevator shaft.

When he returns some time later, he's dragging a port-a-john, as promised, and a seemingly unconcious man dressed in rags.

So, where do you want to do this?

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

"Who is he, and why is his death desirable?" It's a very simple question, the Operative thinks. After all, why kill someone when such an action didn't really accomplish anything?

[Slii Arhem]

Remember that mage I may have claimed to have killed? Well I goofed, here he is, suspended in time, just as healthy as the day he was born. Physically I mean, mentally he's about as screwed as a cork, but give me five minutes and I'll have him fit and ready to be sacrificied for our amusement.

He plunks the booth down in the corner of the office, not really knowing what else to do with it.

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

"Amusement..." the Operative had never really liked the idea of killing for amusement. But, he supposed it couldn't really be stopped. "Is this man your enemy?"

[Slii Arhem]

Well, he was. Don't think I was joking about that whole "burn a continent" thing, back where I came from, this guy was hot stuff, the big meanie if you will. Now, he's just someone who wishes he was dead. Not like I get a kick out of him dying, but that's the way the game works, he lost, his life is forfeit. Besides, he was just languishing in a lake of eternity, a lake you now own I might add. He's better off out of my hair. Wouldn't surprise me if he's been cooking up a way to un-freeze himself this whole time.

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

The ghost pauses. "Very well, then." He really isn't much of a talker, is he?

[Slii Arhem]

He perks up a bit.

Glad to see you're coming around, so do you have facilities for stuff like this? Because the last boss I had didn't take kindly to me gutting people, metaphorically, in his office.

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

The Operative moves his stare to the brain again. "Why do you need a specific facility in order to kill?"

[Slii Arhem]

He grumbles sullenly at that.

Never said I did. Just don't complain about the mess.

He lifts a pen from the Operative's desk and begins painstakingly scraping the layer of transparent film off the ragged man before him. Some of it falls to the floor and collects in shimmering balls that skit about, pooling together into a silver puddle as if by instinct. The rest dissapates harmlessly in mid air. As the last of the goo is scraped off his face the man awakes with a harsh gasp, snatching the pen from mid-air and plunging it up his nose deep into his cortex. He collapses yet again, convulsing and spewing blood, mucus and cerebral fluid from his unclogged nostril, when a spot on the back of his neck visibly deflates and he goes still. Unearthly still, as if still locked in time, no breath fills his lungs, his heart does not attempt even a flutter. The only sound is the steady dripping from his nose. Then, yet another spasm, as legs and arms and head all curl inwards, pressing deep into his trunk until the limits of flesh are surpased, and they merge whole with his chest, shredding the clothes in between and leaving naught but an outline in their wake. Between the floating mind and its potential employer lies a feeble zygote, the size of a man, covered in fluids best left undescribed.

There, as far as I'm concerned I killed him thrice on your account. I swear the things I do to get a decent meal in this joint.

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

Well, that would be messy, if the Operative weren't using his fancy-schmancy telekinesis to keep any of those fluids from messing up the carpet, or walls, or anything, really. Anyone else would probably be impressed by the gore. The Operative is not. It was messy. Far too messy. In his view, an ice pick would've been quicker and cleaner.

"I do not believe this shall be needed for the contracts we take."

[Slii Arhem]

He's visibly taken aback by the ghost's casual dismissal of his technique.

What, a suicide, a selective spinal teleportation, a... okay you got me on that last one, the human fetus is mostly useless, if effective, but the other two are solid ways of taking someone out. I was right, you do have high standards. Well if I don't measure up, that's that, I was only offering for your benefit as I said earlier. So even without my supposedly worthless services, may I assume we have a deal? As it stands the substance would be great for capture and retrieval, and I really have no more use for it.

This was his last gambit, he seems almost depressed it didn't turn out.

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

The Operative is as non-reactive to the brain's reaction and rant as usual. "Your payment is acceptable. I shall place your payment in a designated area, and inform my members of a new contract."

[Slii Arhem]

He perks up, bobbing happily through the air before taking the form of the sailor last seen at the bar up topside.

Hey you're alright you know that? A bit surly though, but I can get why people come to you now. Hey, if you ever need a decent spy, I work freelance when I have the time, no charge. Anything to stir up trouble right? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna get a reaction out of that leading lady of yours while the getting's good.

With that he strolls out of the door, leaving it wide open behind him. Before it closes the Operative may hear a lost little girl whimper out.

Ay there lass, have yew seen my mommy?

[Devixer]

[The Operative's Office]

The Operative simply nods. It'll be difficult to get a reaction out of Jane, the most boring secretary ever, possibly a robot. She just looks at the little girl. "No."

[Slii Arhem]

More dissapointed grumbles.

Lords of faith in the celestial heavens woman, I've seen better reactions in a mortuary. Heh, now those folks knew how to throw a party.

And away he goes!

[Devixer]

[Leaving]

The unnamed brainy brain won't have any resistance to leaving.

[ThirdEmperor]

Bar

Sitting at the counter is a most unique individual. His build is slight, slender, not particularly muscular, his skin deathly pale, which only serves to contrast the fact that his veins are quite visibly jet black, lines of sickly darkness imprinted on his alabaster skin like a plague. His hair is blonde, neatly combed and trimmed short, his teeth, the ones not made of metal, perfectly white. He could almost pass for normal, perhaps even handsome, if it wasn't for his skin condition, and his eyes. His eyes are a very light shade of blue, but that's overshadowed by the bloodshot veins and the deep rings of red coloration at the edges of his eyes.

He wears gray-black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a gray-black jacket, all normal enough clothing, but at the same time perfectly suited to vanishing into the shadows. Less mundane is the fact that there's a longsword tucked into his belt, a well crafted blade with rather intricate, wave like patterns engraved on the edge, the hilt made of a silvery metal with an onyx embedded in the pommel.

He's had about three drinks by now, but doesn't seem in the least drunk, and setting aside the latest emptied glass he waives the bartender over. About time he got around to asking about this whole "assassin's guild" he's heard so much about.

[bladescape]

[Rec Room]

Turiel meditated laxly in the middle of the room, his cloak shadowing his face so that his closed eyes would be difficult to notice. His tome is open in front of him.

[Ashen Lilies]

"Everybody's unique buddy. Except for Magtok, anyway."
Says Kal, sitting at the bar sipping a whiskey, and rolling his eyes at the narration. That's the benefit of having a bar above your top secret assassin's guild... there's a bar above your top secret assassin's guild! =D
"Also, I'd like to point out that black is a horrible color for blending into shadows - unless of course it's so dark that no one can see anything anyway. Gray or dark blue is fine - black just makes you a silhouette."

[Lady Serpentine]

[Main Room]

Rael returns.

"Do you know where Sarah is? I need to discuss the details of the contract we're on."

[BladeofObliviom]

Main Room

Sarah is conveniently here!

What's going on? Is there another complication?

[Lady Serpentine]

[Main Room]

"Yes. There was some sort of separate plan going on, and someone leaked information about it. Since she had just arrived, it was believed that it might have been her. She's currently fighting against two people, at least one of whom has similar capabilities to her."

[Zefir]

Main Room

"I need your skills for the job I'm doing now. If possible."

Fade still comes from somewhere not even I know.

[ThirdEmperor]

"Everybody's unique buddy. Except for Magtok, anyway."
Says Kal, sitting at the bar sipping a whiskey, and rolling his eyes at the narration. That's the benefit of having a bar above your top secret assassin's guild... there's a bar above your top secret assassin's guild! =D
"Also, I'd like to point out that black is a horrible color for blending into shadows - unless of course it's so dark that no one can see anything anyway. Gray or dark blue is fine - black just makes you a silhouette."

Which is exactly why he wears grey-black, of a shade that easily blends into most shadows.

"What?" The man asks, not comprehending Kal's comments in the least. He simply isn't the brightest fellow, a side effect of the heavy brain damage he's taken over the years, and he certainly has no OoC awareness. So, in short, he is utterly confused by Kal responding to the narration text. "Who are you? One of the assassins I've heard about, by any chance?"