[center][h3][color=9e0b0f]Business Dealings[/color][/h3][/center] [center][i]Some indiscriminate time in the past...[/i][/center] [center]Tatiana, Lucien[/center] [center]Rtron, Monochromatic Rainbow[/center] Lucien strode into the bunker, eyeing the six guards and other automated defenses. He could kill the six guards in a heartbeat, he knew. The other defenses, which he was sure consisted of far more than just guards and turrets, were impressive and likely extensive. He doubted he’d leave here alive if he tried to kill anyone. What was far less certain, however, is the amount of people that would be left alive if he tried to kill anyone. With a grim smile at the thought, Lucien walked all the way through, coming to a halt in the entry room, his steel clad foot tapping impatiently on the ground. [center]~✦~✦~✦~✦~✦~[/center] Tatiana sighed, stretching her arms out as she pushed her chair away from the desk. Being the CEO of a company was a lot of paperwork - being the [s]kingpin[/s] queenpin? of a major multinational criminal enterprise dealing in large scale arms dealing, drugs, racketeering, and just about anything else produced roughly enough paperwork to stop a bullet or ten. Granted, it was all digital, and hard drives weren’t known for being reliable body armor, but the point still stood. Paperwork was not and never would be her forte, too much sitting in one place doing menial and mind numbing tasks, not enough interesting things happening. Setting the computer to sleep, she stood from the chair, letting out an exagerrated yawn. Right about now was the time one of her… most frequent customers was to show up, dealing with his cynicism, grit, and general grumpiness would be a welcome change from decoding reports and sending orders. Shedding the fluffy bathrobe she usually did paperwork in, she dressed quickly, not forgetting to pack some armor on underneath her usual attire - he might’ve been a major buyer, but Lucien was… unstable. That was a word. His single minded thirst for vengeance intrigued her, but kept her on edge. Men like him, or, well, Angels like him she supposed, were dangerous. Far more dangeorus than she. It had only partly to do with his personal skill in combat, and far more to do with his quest for vengeance blotting out all else in his life. He would unhesitatingly kill anyone who stood in his way, and he had no mind for anything but revenge. Contrasted to her, he would stop at almost nothing if it meant the end of his enemies. If she were to become an obstacle, and he had a way of killing her without himself being killed, she had no doubt he would do so without a second thought, without regard to the repercussions and consequences. She, on the other hand, did have earthly attachments. She liked sex, good food, and rock’n’roll, though she didn’t generally partake of any drugs. A mind addled by addiction was not a mind that could continue to keep her out of jail. She had people she cared for, even if she would never admit it. The thought that someone could be so completely, so single mindedly dedicated to killing those who had wronged him, that as far as she could tell his life had no purpose beyond that goal - the prospect terrified her in some way. Oh, she could understand it alright, and the fact that she could - and that she routinely did business with someone who lived that every day of his life, days, weeks, months, years. That was what truly scared her. Revenge was a dark, winding road, and one that she would rather not have to tread. A friend had done so once, and watching her tread that path, her heart decaying and darkening as it consumed her life and very being… Tatiana shivered despite the cozy temperature of the room. Thinking about the past could wait for later, she had a meeting to conduct. [center]~✦~✦~✦~✦~✦~[/center] “So, Lucien, how are you doing today? Please, follow me, we can talk in the coffee room.” She beckoned him to follow her with a finger, leading him to a separate room furnished in a rather traditional manner. Vaguely reminiscent of an 18th century study. Plush armchairs were arrayed around a small lacquered table of mahogany, itself laden with a large engraved silver cylinder, steam gently rising from the top. Mugs and plates were arranged neatly around it, and small glass bowls with chocolates and other sweets were within easy reach. Some people bought out politicians with money - Tatiana had less grandiose tastes. “Take a seat, wherever you wish. Try some of the coffee by the way, it’s imported, specially cultivated or something pretentious like that. Still tastes like shit to me, but that’s what the sugar’s for.” She gave Lucien a vague wave towards the chairs, taking a seat in one of her own, facing the door. “So, how can I help you?” “I haven’t killed anyone who doesn’t deserve to die yet. So it’s a good day so far.” Lucien replied following the...what was the word...Russian! Russian. Humans had so many different ways of identifying themselves. Not that it mattered anymore, with the Three Worlds combined. He briefly gave the room an unimpressed survey, searching for any sign of something out of place from last time that would indicate an attack. Tatiana eyed him in amusement. “If I were planning to attack you, or ambush you, or anything like that, why on earth would I risk myself being this close to you, welcoming you right into my home, and all that? Do you really think I might’ve sold out?” She sighed, “Just sit down and drink some damn co- actually no caffeine probably isn’t a good idea, have some water and a chocolate.” “Got that comfortable once. Ended terribly for all parties involved and set me on my current path, ending the lives of hundreds who did not need to die. Forgive my paranoia.” He gave a slight smirk at the human woman. “So you’re willing to offer me caffeine but not willing to let my sword be free?” “This is implying that you couldn’t kill most anyone under the sun with just your bare hands?” Tatiana quirked an eyebrow at him, sipping from her cup of sugar with a little coffee added. “And to be fair, you can’t disembowl people with a cup of coffee nearly as easily as you can with a sword.” She sipped again, unwrapping a chocolate and taking a bite out of it. “Nevertheless, I presume you’re not here for a booty call or to swap pleasantries about coffee. Who needs a boomstick this time?” Lucien shrugged, pulling a chair at an angle so he could see both the door and Tatiana should anyone come bursting through, laying his wings over the back of it.. “Death by sword is far quicker than death by bare hands. But, whatever makes you feel better.” He merely quirked an eyebrow at her mention of a booty call before sighing. “Azael again. Ever since he found out I know you he’s insisted that I get weapons for him from you. Says ‘I have more pull.’ I owe him so I do it. Besides, gives me time to move from place to place lest the Peacekeepers start noticing me using his home as a base.” Lucien shifted slightly, unused to the feeling of a chair with backs. “What’re you willing to sell?” Tatiana laughed softly for a moment. “That’s what this was about? You could’ve simply sent me an email, letter. I thought something big had happened for a moment!” She took another nibble of her chocolate, pausing for thought. “I have no reservations about selling to him and yourself, but I need to know just what he would like to purchase. I can’t think of anything I have access to that I wouldn’t sell to him for some reason, but if you have something specific I can do a little digging for you, see if I can’t pull up something extra special.” She winced as she took a sip of the coffee, setting it aside with a sigh. “I can’t drink this. Would you like some tea while we discuss weaponry for our dear Azael?” “Big for me is stumbling through your doors, injured and bleeding profusely, while Musicians and other Peacekeeper forces chase after me. You don’t want something ‘big’ to happen.” Lucien gave an unapologetic shrug. “He just said ‘the ones that are most likely to sell.’ I don’t know much else.” He shook his head at the offer of tea. “No thank you. Water would be preferable, if you have any.” Tatiana gestured to a small table next to Lucien’s chair. “Water in there.” She looked back up at him, “I’m well aware that if something genuinely big were to happen, there would be bullets and magic flying right now.” She reclined in her chair, raising an eyebrow. “And is that really all he said?” She sighed, “That’s not helpful. I have swords, guns, armor, pretty much everything.” Lucien opened the table, examining the water bottle to make sure it was sealed before opening it and taking a drink. [i]First safe drink I’ve had in a while.[/i] He mused, before replying to Tatiana. “What can I say. When he sees something shiny he just kinda….goes for it. Kinda ridiculous like that. Dopplegangers are like that, in my experience. Granted, my experience has only been killing all but one of them, but nonetheless.” “Speaking of armor, I need mine repaired again.” Tatiana rested her forehead on two fingers, sighing. “Well, tell him that I can’t help him much unless he gives me specifics. I can’t think of anything off limits, so just get what he wants and I’ll see if I can’t get my hands on it.” She was about to continue until a small robot rolled into the room with a cup of tea sitting on top of it. She smiled at it, taking the cup and shooing the little robot away. “What’d you do to your armor this time?” She smirked at him, “Truthfully, you are the only one who can damage masterwork equipment this easily.” “What can I say. I killed one of the Cowards. She died but left her mark. Had to kill all of her guards too though, and that was quite the bloody mess. Left most of a small town in ruins, bodies everywhere. Didn’t endear me to the Peacekeepers, that much is for certain.” Lucien gave a morbid chuckle. “Not that they liked me all that much to begin with, what with my nasty habit of killing after they had forbidden killing. Regardless, my armor is in need of repair once more.” Tatiana shook her head. “Master crafted armor, of the highest quality. Tested to stop multiple impacts from 6.8mm ammunition, a full magazine of 9mm ammunition out of a submachine gun, sledgehammer impacts, a direct hit from a .338, and still be little the worse for wear. Using bleeding edge laminated graphene to form a nigh indestructible plate hundreds of times stronger than steel and far lighter to boot. Specially reinforced over the vital areas and incorporating a dilatant and gel backing to minimize blunt trauma and shock damage. And you’ve already broken it.” She gently rested her face in her hands, “I don’t suppose your sword is secretly chipped to hell and you need a new one as well?” She reached down to a small table next to her own chair, pulling out a flask of aged bourbon, pouring herself a glass and slowly but steadily draining it. “You do realize,” she deadpanned at him, refilling the glass, “That you’re telling me I’m going to be spending the next three days working with almost no sleep to get this back into proper shape?” Downing the glass again, she raised an eyebrow at him, “I hope you’ve got something good to make it worth the trouble.” Lucien shrugged, smirking slightly. “Should’ve tested it against angry Original Angels. We pack a hell of a punch.” “Next time I see a clearance sale on them, I’ll make sure to buy them in bulk just for you.” She snipped at him, pouring the bourbon into her tea. “I can make you some armor that actually will stop damn near anything, but it’ll be heavier. Like an actual suit of plate armor.” Lucien smiled. “I have offered my services in testing your toys in return for free repairs. As for the weight, that’s no problem. What you Humans consider heavy and what is actually heavy are entirely different things.” Tatiana quirked an eyebrow at him. “Remember who you’re talking to.” She sipped at her tea, frowning at it before dumping a spoonful of sugar into it. “I’m not talking about heavy by the standards of some couch potato - it actually is heavy.” Laying the mug of tea down, she stretched her arms out, “The armor I can make covers a wide range - I can make something as light as a second skin but with little to be impressed by as far as protectiveness goes, I can make you armor that will last through hell and back and a couple trips through the ghetto to boot, but you’ll feel the weight alright.” She leaned back in the chair, “Before I go and make assumptions, just what do you actually want? Don’t assume that when I say heavy I mean heavy for a twelve year old girl. We’re talking heavy even for you.” “I need something that can withstand the strongest hits you’ve got. My healing factor won’t save me from everything. That’s where the armor comes in. I’d show you my sword, but someone keeps insisting upon it being tied. So you’re just going to have to take my word for it when I say I accidentally snapped it off in a Demon’s neck.” Lucien waited for the inevitable reaction, a slight smile playing on his lips as he took another drink. Tatiana looked at him for a moment. Her breathing remained even. She closed her eyes. She reached for the small table again, pulling out the bottle of bourbon and upending it into her mouth. The room was silent for a minute aside from the steady [i]glug glug glug[/i] of the rapidly emptying flask. Tatiana kept her index finger held up to Lucien, bidding him stay silent as she drained the flask. It was oak aged ninety proof bourbon, some of the nicest on the market. In truth it was a drink to savour and appreciate. But it was also strong, and that was what she needed right now to continue talking to the Angel without strangling him. “That sword,” she began, covering her eyes with her cybernetic hand, “took me ten days to make. A small fortune in resources to build it of only the best materials in the world. Services from the best enchanter in continental Europe. Two days alone spent working on the edge to make it second to none in the world. A piece of art, a true masterpiece of bladesmithing. Light as a feather to the user, crushing in its blows, unyielding in its sharpness.” She gritted her teeth, “Material worth well over its weight in gold. Successfuly tested against [i]diamonds[/i] for hardness, flexed two hundred and forty degrees without taking a set, battered six hundred times by hydraulic hammers to test its resilience. A blade that any warrior would weep to have received for next to nothing. And you [i][b]SNAPPED[/b][/i] it?!” She screeched at him, losing all semblance of restraint. “Are you [b][i]TRYING[/i][/b] to break my equipment?! You would have to be! What in the name of all the fires of hell were you using it for!?” Lucien’s eyebrows merely rose in amusement. “There was a Demon Lord trying to eradicate a town. I stabbed him through the neck, and his stone like skin closed in on it. To prevent him from going on a rampage in his death throes, it used the sword as leverage to throw him away from the town. The blade snapped in the process, but hundreds of lives were saved. A fair trade.” Seething, Tatiana closed her eyes, trying to calm herself before something regrettable happened. After a moment, she had mastered the impulse to strangle the bastard and looked back up at him. “That agreement was for basic repairs. I’m no miser, but that blade alone cost me…” she trailed off. “Do you have any idea just how much money I lost? Your offer netted me barely anything, I only lost with it. You’re not getting a single thing from me until you make it worth my while. I run a business, not a charity.” “I thought you might say that. Fortunately, I left several things with your guards so they can bring them in. Didn’t want them all cluttering the room. So you’ll have to call them and tell them to bring everything in. There’s quite a lot of them.” Lucien waited expectantly, gesturing towards the intercom Tatiana had. “You really shouldn’t be so distressed. I’m helping you find weaknesses in your equipment that you can improve upon.” Tatiana fixed him with a look of pure venom. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to get me to punch you or actually think that.” She looked at him for a minute. “Whatever it is you have it had better be damned impressive. It wouldn’t kill you to find some information for me either. That’s of far greater importance than money.” Tapping a finger to her temple, she paused for a moment before speaking. “Raine, bring in the ‘things’ he says he left out there, please.” Lucien watched as the pretty, by human standards, guard brought in the various items. The first was an unusually large axe. “Angel Forged.. Minerals and metals you won’t find here or anywhere else but Heaven, which I’m sure you’re aware is locked down. Was wielded by Maximilian. He is dead, but the abilities of the axe have not decreased. It’s far stronger than anything you can create with your Human metals. He used it as a...what’s the word...bangarang. That Human thing. He could throw it and it’d always come back to him. Light as a feather, sharp enough to slice through most armors.” A shamshir was next. “Ah, I had forgotten about this. Sarian did always enjoy your Human culture. Same metals as Maximilian’s axe, only when this blade cuts the air the cut would project several feet, creating a minorly ranged weapon. He relied too much that ability, however, and wasn’t nearly as dangerous in close range.” A pair of daggers clanked on the table. “Sasha was a vicious close ranged fighter. Her daggers draw energy from whoever they cut. Every cut would drain energy and give it to Sasha. She didn’t go down easily. But a sword through the skull kills just about everyone, no matter how much energy you have left.” A bow was lain in front of Tatiana. “Crafted from metal, and strung with a thin wire. Creates it’s own arrows of Angelic Essence. What Vivian didn’t know was that Angelic Essence can’t hurt Angels. The look of surprise on her face as she died was enough to assure me of that. I assume it draws on the Essence of whoever is wielding it, so it’ll fire Human essence if a Human is wielding it, Demonic Essence if you give it to a Demon, so on so forth.” A straight sword, similar to Lucien’s former one, was put on the pile. “Gabriel and I always did prefer simplicity. It can turn invisible, making it impossible to gauge the length of your opponent’s blade. Something that was useless when I had seen it countless times. I was the better sword fighter.” A spear was the last weapon to be put down. Lucien became quiet. Morose. “Cerria. First of the Weather Angels. Strongest of our fighters. She was terrible at precision strikes, which made a spear an unusual choice until you saw how she used it to orchestrate storms. It still holds a charge of a lightning bolt, ready to be released into your enemy once you stab them.” Lucien gestured behind them. “The rest is their armors, a verifiable ocean of metal for you to melt down and make use of. Stronger than most of the armors you can create here, while still being incredibly light. That’s what I want you to use to make my new armor. Oh. And one last thing.” He pulled a rucksack from the piles of armor and tossed a beaten journal onto the pile. “Found it in Gabriel’s home. Looks like it’s reports. Don’t know how old.” Tatiana’s jaw had been steadily decreasing the distance between it and the ground below it right up until Lucien mentioned melting them down. “Are you out of your mind?!” She exclaimed in horror, “Should I use the Mona Lisa as a blank canvas for a painting of my own?! Should I demolish Michelangelo’s David to make room for a new sculpture?! Do you not hear the words coming out of your mouth, man?!” “I am not an artist. I am a soldier. Soldiers use whatever is at hand. If I need Mona Lisa’s canvas for padding, I will use it. If I need the stone of David to create a wall, I [i]will[/i] tear it down. The armor does not fit me. I need it repurposed to fit me, so I can kill the last one.” Lucien leaned forward, his eye suddenly intense and burning with desire. “She’s the last one. Do you understand? She’s all that’s left. I kill her, and it’s over. The deaths, the needless slaughter, the crimes, the crusade of vengeance. It all ends. I pay for my crimes, just as she will pay for hers.” He gave a slightly crooked smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t mention a thing about you.” If one looked closely, the sudden subtle but distinct shift in Tatiana’s demeanor would’ve sounded alarm bells of all sizes. Her cybernetic arm clutched the now empty bottle in her hands and her jaw was set in a firm line. She sat silently for a little while, staring at the expensive Persian rug currently adorning the floor beneath the tables and chairs. With a sudden cacophany of sound the bottle shattered, shards of glass flying in all directions, yet Tatiana didn’t move. She remained almost motionless save heavy and uneven breathing. “Don’t talk to me about being a soldier.” She looked up, a fire burning in her eyes, even the cybernetic one, snarling in a low growl, “Don’t fucking talk to me about being a soldier. Don’t you ever fucking talk like that to me.” Her tone was even, but her voice cracked at almost every other word. “I’ll make you your armor, not of these, but I’ll make it.” Her eyes narrowed, “But talk to me like that again and we’ll be having a different discussion. Some of us have different things to war, don’t talk to me about pragmatism in it. I know it all too well.” Lucien waited, eyes on Tatiana for the slightest movement. His hands were free, ready to grab whatever necessary should things turn violent. Not that he hadn’t half expected it already. As the glass shattered, he merely smiled his crooked smile. It was more pained this time. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. Easy to forget I’m not the only one with pain these days.” He shrugged. “Armor is armor.” Tatiana took a deep breath, brushing away glass fragments. She lowered her other hand, realizing it had unconsciously strayed close to her gun. “Then we have an agreement.” Letting the breath out, she poured herself some more tea, drinking deeply of the beverage to calm herself. “Anything else you wanted to discuss?” “Nope.” Lucien stood up and stretched, his wings flaring out as far as he could without smacking into things. “I’m going to be heading into Heaven soon, so if I don’t come back for a long time, assume I’m dead.” Nodding solemnly, Tatiana stood as well. “Well alright then. Expect the new gear within a fortnight. I still need more information about just what Azael wants before I make something for him, however. Raine can show you out if you would like.”