The Offer

The ancient homeland of the Elw and the cultic centre of its religion. Much desecrated during the period of Vanic occupation, but now slowly returning to some semblance of order.

Moderator: (Elwynn) Prince of Elwynn

Post Reply
User avatar
Prometheus
Posts: 25
Joined: Tue Jun 19, 2012 2:49 am

The Offer

Post by Prometheus »

The silence in the room had long past the point of awkwardness and barreled right on ahead into the excruciatingly painful. “It seems to have healed quite nicely miss Rakhmelevitch. Your nose that is...” Richard tested tentatively. Wrong thing to say. The glare he had been subjected to from the moment he sat down across from her went from a icey ‘your end is near’ to a terrifying ‘You will never understand the full extent of the atrocities I am commiting on you and your family in my mind’. While he was not one to shy away from intimidation, he had to admit to himself that that small part of him screaming to turn and run as fast as his feet would take him was - at least this time - more than just a part of his imagination.

Just as Richard began to wonder why exactly the boss had sent him - which was a testament to how uncomfortable the lady was making since he was well aware Montiaceae never did anything without reason - the latch into the cell-like room clicked open to admit the very same man. This surprised him since it was very rare of the Boss to reveal his face to any but his highest level operatives. The faint echoes of a previous conversation played out in the back of him mind.

“Hope and fear. Those are the root of all power Richard.” They were in Patrick’s study sharing a glass of Scotch in from of the fire. “A man can inspire hope or he can instill fear”, a pause, “a truly masterful artist can do both. But when it comes down to it he is but a man. Flesh and blood. I Consider the gods Richard. How many men do you know ready to defy them? In their intangibility is their power and the key to balancing fear and hope. It is for that reason that I am not - no - cannot be Prometheus. If anyone were ever to connect Patrick Montiaceae to Prometheus, he would become vulnerable. He would become a man.

He came out of his revery to calmly tackle the suddenly airborne Yvona Rakhmelevitch who had, upon Patrick’s entrance very nearly started foaming at the mouth in rage. “You! I should ave done Micras a favor and killed you ven I had the chance” she raged. “Prometheus.” This last remark made an unpleasant sound as the spit that had accented it collided with his meticulously polished shoe. The room fell dead silent as the pinned Yvona came to terms with the knife that was suddenly pressed uncomfortably close to her throat. “What did you just say?” Richard’s voice was nearly a whisper. “How do you know that?”

“She knows because I told her.” A few heavy steps took him over to the upturned table which he righted and, grabbing a chair, took a seat at. “Let her go Richard. She’s been through enough trauma these last few weeks.” Just as quickly as the knife had appeared, it was gone. Only a slight indent on the skin remained as reminder of the indiscretion. Hawksblood took the second of the three seats and Patrick motioned for Yvona to take the last. “I trust there won't be any further trouble? Isn’t that right Darling?” There, behind her eyes, flashed a moment of pure hatred but she seemed to have gotten control of herself and took the seat without another word. “I brought you here to talk Yvona. Richard is here to make sure I leave the room alive. I have an offer for you though and I only ask that you give it full consideration before trying to tear my throat out. Once I’m done - no matter your answer - you will be brought to an extraction point and from their your life will be your own to do with as you please. I swear it on my faith in the Lady.”
Richard looked over at his employer not quite understanding what exactly it was he was currently witnessing. “Are you sure that is prudent sir? With the knowledge she seems to possess she can only be a liability if we set her loose.” An expression crossed Patrick’s face that he had never witnessed before. It was sadness.

“You will have to trust my judgment in this case Richard.” Baffled, he man nodded and settled back into the chair. The subsequent conversation lasted hours.
~Patrick Montiaceae

User avatar
Prometheus
Posts: 25
Joined: Tue Jun 19, 2012 2:49 am

Re: The Offer

Post by Prometheus »

“Are these really necessary?” Yvona was indicating the the composite plastic pull-ties that bound her hands and feet together. “I mean, vut could I possibly do vith my feet vith you big, strong, men vatching over me.” She hopped the slight bust waggle would be distraction enough from the needle sharp four inch stilettos she was wearing. Some of the men were surprised to find their heads nodding in agreement despite not remembering ever telling it to do so. One of the armed guards seemed to have his wits about him though - it was always prudent to have at least one man of questionable sexuality in any group responsible for guarding a female prisoner. “Don’t even entertain the notion gents! You’d all be dead before the restraints hit the ground!”

Damn! She scolded herself mentally for not having noticed the way Private Brooks had been watching Lieutenant Lessard, watch her, pretending not to notice him, pretending not to notice Brooks. Vell I guess I’m doing this ze ard vay. She sighed. Her hands had been free for about ten minutes now but her feet were going to prove difficult without their help. Executing a textbook perfect Mavrick’s Flying Kic-

The scene froze and Yvona slowly turned her head to find a gleeful Carwood standing just beyond the html border of the story. “No” The sheer viscerality of her disdain shook the poor Mavrick to his very core and, dejected, he made his way back to his own narrative arc.

Executing a textbook perfect jab, Yvona collapsed the Lieutenant’s windpipe and knocked the gun out of the hands of the private standing to his side. In another smooth motion she loosed one bullet which bit at her bindings before embedding itself into the acrylic flooring. The following scissor kick landed one man in the ER with a pierced lung and the other with severe lacerations in the trauma unit. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” shouted Private Brooks who had taken up a defensive stance at what he naively believed to be a safe distance.

“You sure you know how to use vun of those?” she taunted.
“Of course I do, now shut up before I make you,” was the valiant retort.
“Then vhy is the safety still on?” A shot rang out in the room. Brooks had shot.

“Interesting.” said a steely voice next to his ear. “You av guts Private! You didn’t even flinch at my bluff. I like you.” He was stunned to find his weapon was no longer in his hands. “Shame it’s unrequited.”

With a sudden change in tone she strode over to the door, stepping over the body of one of the felled guards. “You can tell your boss that I accept his offer and that I expect more of a challenge next time he az me ‘escorted’ somewhere.” With that she left the man to tend to his colleagues and stepped out of the complex and into the vast expanse of Araxion.

Part 3
~Patrick Montiaceae

Post Reply

Return to “Araxion”