[u][i]Laraxis Valco[/i][/u]

[center][i]Darkness. A small candlelight hovering o'er a table, casting pale shadows along the wood. She wept, her beautiful tears falling before I could dry them. I knelt at her feet, gently taking up her hands in my own. The sorrow bitterly lining the soft edges of her face brought a lump in my throat. 

'My dear, why do you cry?'

Her hand clasped my cheek, ever so warm. Why did she look so pained?  'You shouldn't be here, love.' Her voice was the sweetest music. 'We're compromised. They come... for me.'

'I would never leave your side. Even in death.'

~***~[/i][/center]
Laraxis blinked, snapping back from his reverie. Hannibal's speech bored him terribly, and he ruined one of Laraxis' favourite china cups. Regardless, it briefly reminded him of something quite precious from his past. The over-sized lizard talked like he had it great, preying on the weak. And he [i]dared[/i] to mention morality. What did he know about liberty? About sacrifice? 

The beast brought up another point. [i]"What happens then, should they try and oppose you? How will you threaten them?"[/i] Hannibal said. [i]"I am not the only one. Consider this my gift to you, Laxaris. You'll need it."[/i]

The monk regarded him with steely eyes before a smile crept at the edges of his lips. He burst into laughter. Hard, forced laughter that landed cold. It was unnerving, hearing a single, mocking noise echo off the white walls. 

[b]"You... How dare you."[/b] The mockery in his eyes drained away, and he scowled at Hannibal. [b]"You don't know me in the least. Not like I know you."[/b]

[i]"I'm also curious,"[/i] His little gem spoke up, making Laraxis smirk. [i]"What other forms of [/i]persuasion[i] might we be expecting? Surely you're not planning to leave us empty-handed at the end of this, eh?"[/i]

He walked over and snatched the cup in Alter's grasp, but otherwise ignored him. Compensation was an easy one, he'd address that in a moment. He peered at the lizard through the hole in the bottom, his first subject to coerce. [b]"I'll give you reasons not even a beast could ignore. You've made your home in the sewers, pitifully eating the scraps of humans alone in the darkness. Like a vampire, you can't reveal yourself in the light. Out of all the Operatives, you're the one they especially want put down. Did you know you have a bounty, internationally? Exactly five million in cash for whoever finds the enigmatic beast. Dead or alive, of course."[/b]

He looked down at the cup again, noticing the residue of the meta blood. Maybe he'd scan it later, see what secrets were withheld in its make-up. For now, the cup was gently placed in its matching saucer. 

He turned back to them with a dramatic spin. [b]"What I offer, however, is so much more!  Be it money, compensation, the finer things in life,"[/b] He nodded to Alter. [b]"Or [i]morality[/i]..."[/b] His glance fell on Hannibal. [b]"I am here to help fight for your freedom. Aren't you sick of hiding? Of being looked down on for what makes you superior in every way? Are you done playing the masochist, ready to take back what is rightfully entitled to you -- the lesser's respect, and their fear."[/b] He said, his voice glowing in confidence. Freedom was an ideal close to his heart, one that appeared wrenched from his grasp most of his life. Humans were vile things meant to fear, not be feared.

He raised a single brow at Citrine and Cheshire, baring his teeth wickedly. [b]"I also offer an assurance from a sudden and unexpected death~"[/b] Citrine sputtered on her tea, but was otherwise silent, eyes narrowed. 

[b]"Now, the mission in more detail..."[/b] Laraxis paced back and forth in front of the monitor, hands held behind his back. [b]"The agency I mentioned would be the CIA. Their headquarters is situated in Langley, Virginia, a few miles off Washington. I have plane tickets, floor plans and decoders; no door should oppose you, and I trust your skills in espionage. The blueprints are in an underground vault guarded by sensors and cameras. As for the device behind the blueprints, you needn't concern yourself. Technology is my 'speciality', I will have complete control over the situation. The device itself will help assist in... Mm, breaking a few choice individuals."[/b]

[i]"Wait! Wait! Are you trying to ransom the world or something? Are you like some super-villain in those stupid movies?"[/i] Cheshire said with disgustingly sweet enthusiasm. Laraxis wrinkled his nose, but nonetheless spared her a glance.

[b]"What I am, dear, is nothing that can be defined by a single word like 'super-villian'. My goal is liberty, the means are insignificant. Those who oppose me will be swept aside as the dust they are. And if liberty comes down to ransoming the world, so be it."[/b] 

He frowned at the newcomers joining them in the underground. [b]"Ah, the notorious Arsenic and Ghost. Any [i]complaints[/i] to add, or can I continue?"[/b]

[u][i]Citrine[/i][/u]

[i]"Yes, being shot and torn apart like I've been would raise one to think I would be."[/i] Hannibal loomed over her, leaning his maw down. All she could see was teeth, long and sharp. With him so close, she wouldn't have time to react to his moves, even with her advantage. Goosebumps tickled her arms, but she didn't flinch. [i]"Tell me, Citrine, are you disappointed?"[/i]

The thrill of potential death delivered by a lizard (as opposed to a kill switch) was almost a comforting thought. A death actually worthy of a killer -- to kill and be killed. A smile played at her lips. [b]"Disappointed? No. I've never been more pleased to see such a familiar face my whole life."[/b]

Hannibal and Arsenic were the only Operatives Citrine was exceptionally wary of, simply due to the nature of their powers. Cheshire, she was a dear, but it was only so long before even the ex-con couldn't stand her company. Ghost was the single individual she didn't mind, surprisingly. Alter... Alter was an Operative Citrine considered a traitor. Sure, he helped them get through locked doors as they took down Obsidian. But it was he who originally helped create the KSP, something she could never forgive him for. 

As Laraxis drawled on about his plans and motives, Citrine seriously wondered if Cyrus knew about this man. The enigma's parting words at her cafe seemed incredibly foreboding as she considered things in hindsight. [i]Be careful, my ass.[/i] She looked down at her near-empty cup, feeling a little abandoned. There was no way out of this stupid situation for her.

[b]"I have a complaint, though it could be interpreted as a question."[/b] Citrine locked eyes with Laraxis. [b]"How long will this Operative puppet show last?"[/b] She referred to the KSPs subtly, ever so conscious of the remote itself within his reach.

[u][i]47[/i][/u]

This Operative standing before her tried to be clever. She saw right through his bullshit. The more he talked, the more she calculated he would try to make a break for it. [i]How uncooperative...[/i] She considered as he called her something awful. 47's vocabulary module notified her that his insult was sexual in nature. Her rose eyes never blinked, giving a cold stare as Rook floundered about. Yes, it was called subtle unnerving. And yes, robots were the best at it.

[i]"Nice lil phone I got here right? Got it off one of Valco's wallet chuckin lakeys."[/i] He showed her the cracked tech. Wrong move. 47 had a gracious master who gave her a unique scanner patterned after his own power -- communicating via electrical signals with technology. It only took a matter of seconds to perceive the mundane contents within the phone, bought yesterday and destined to be thrown away later today. A few calls, a few names. All conversations were short and spoken in code. So it didn't compute right when Rook started going off the handle about intel. 

Rook was bluffing. She knew Master Valco didn't even wear underwear. The elastic band left rashes around his hips, quite a rare allergy from what her databases said.

[i]"I'm leaving here on my own two feet, tell that flamboyant jedi that if he hits that KSP his late nights at the Opera are over!"[/i] He said, firing some shots at the robot.

If 47's humor module was working properly she would have laughed. Instead, she briefly contemplated on the strange relation between her master and a Jedi. Her sight charted the trajectory of the bullets he fired, catching them in a bullet-resistant grip. It wouldn't do to have rips in her velvet dress, nor damage the motel, otherwise she wouldn't have reacted the slightest.

The porcelain child was quick on Rook's heels, leaping out the window after him. The multitude of targets was overwhelming, and he used that to his advantage. His coat unfurled and was tossed into the air, which she caught. There was a brief shower of loose bills which caught some attention from the passerby. Rook quickly disappeared into the crowd and 47 held tight to the jacket, debating her objectives. 

Well, most of the stolen goods were recovered. The papers didn't matter nearly as much as the faked ID's, their superior forgery was worth a fortune. Rook seemed like an unwilling participant she'd likely have to tranquilize to even get into the theatre. Her objective, it seemed, was obviously completed. 

It was as if the thief never existed in the first place. 47 spun on her heels, returning to the motel where she picked up the discarded duffle bag, double-checking its contents. Satisfied, the child returned to the theatre, dodging traffic with ease despite the bulk.