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

Laraxis almost smiled as Cheshire pledged herself, cocking a brow at her question. [i]"I'm just confused in one fashion: why threaten us with the Killy Thingy? You'd think that maybe one of us might y'know want your head for such a threat."[/i] She said.

[b]"That's quite possible, yes,"[/b] He said, deviously narrowing his eyes. [b]"You don't think I've prepared for such an outcome? Come now, I'm a genius. And my tactics certainly forced your undivided attention."[/b] 

[i]"You've done this before, haven't you Laxaris. And you lost something or someone... then failed."[/i] Hannibal said, a look of victory in his eyes. His eyes swept the room before he concluded his profiling. It was strange watching a lizard assume a very human posture. [i]"Have I ever told you the definition... of insanity?"[/i]

Laraxis flinched, curling his lip in a look of disgust. Oooh, Hannibal hit a nerve. It flashed so vividly behind his crystal eyes, his darkened, bloody past in another world. And her, the woman. His everything, his life. He did it for her. 

Everything he did, it was for her. Just to see the tears dry.

[b]"...You're right."[/b] His chuckle sounded hollow. [b]"I have done this before. And it would have worked if we hadn't been betrayed for a few extra coins. Really, it was quite pitiful. You should have seen everyone falling with their heads fresh blown off. Rather messy, I'll admit..."[/b] He clenched his teeth, refusing to unblock the entire memory. There were some things he simply couldn't live through again. 

Anger sparked behind his eyes, flushing whatever sentiments he entertained before. [b]"Hannibal..."[/b] He hissed. [b]"You are dismissed. Get the hell out of my sight."[/b]

Citrine eventually brought up a question he was simply waiting in anticipation for. [i]"How long will this Operative puppet show last?"[/i]

Laraxis lost the anger, merely smiling with metallic eyes. [b]"Puppet show? Please, dear, give yourself more credit. I like to think of it more as a... Hm, a league of 'super terrorists', as your government so eloquently puts. We will work together only as long as it takes to place you on the pedestal of the world."[/b] 

With a flourish he spun around, hands flying across the keys of the main console. A synthetic note sounded, and a blue line lit up on the shiny floor. It snaked away in 90 degree angles, turning down the hallway to the right of the console. 

He gestured to the line. [b]"This leads to my private armory. You will find everything you need for your mission therein. Walk it, would you? I'm tired of talking."[/b] 

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

Hannibal had the option to leave.

That motherfucker. What did she have? Well, not the option. The elevator, it almost glittered behind her, looking so enticing to run back into. However, her own thread of gold stopped short if she pursued her escape. She could see it; He'd press the button on her, and she would become the second example. Case closed. 

Laraxis was a crazy man, hands down. The last thing she wanted to do was help him help himself. Hannibal seemed to strike a nerve as he disrobed Laraxis for all to see. It amused a twisted part of her, listening to him breathe live into his darkest memories. As he told Hannibal to leave, a bubble of laughter fought its way up Citrine's throat, which she disguised as a polite cough. 

Jealousy. Jealousy was the source of her laughter. Damn, what a strange creature she was. But a part of her resented Hannibal for his lack of an Obsidian noose. Operatives weren't very vocal about whether or not they still had the switch. To her knowledge only Hannibal had rid himself of it, naturally. Damn him.

As the blue light lit up along the white floors, Cheshire caught Citrine's eye. She was the single meta who dared to keep her infallible enthusiasm about her, though Citrine recalled she was always like that. She was likely the only one who'd respond with kindness first, suspicion later. Even with death threatened over her head. 

[b]"Cheshire,"[/b] She cooed, holding her hand out to the petite Operative. Yes, it was high time they departed. She might have no choice in the matter, but no one said she had to walk alone. [b]"Come with me, honey. Let's admire the shiny new toys waiting for us down the hall."[/b]

The armory was less than a minute walk through white corridors, the blue light leading the way down the maze of halls. A great, circular steel door wheeled to the side as they approached the end of the line, revealing a bright and spacious room. Lockers lined the far wall and long, steel tables were spaced evenly on the floor. Guns and swords supported in soft velvet covered the tables, riffles and assault weapons decorated the walls. Oooh, it definitely glittered. The armory was a beautiful sight to take in.

Citrine instantly felt at home, running her hands over the many katanas the armory housed. The metal felt like it could sing to her; she remembered the last time she held a sword, and that was exactly two years and a day ago. The blades winked at her, gleaming and sharp. How she wanted to sate their hunger, their thirst.

[i]Now that doesn't sound so bad, does it?[/i] Citrine licked her lips, gently holding a hopeful smile.

Eventually her steps graced the back of the room, taking in the lockers. They were seamless, no locks or buttons to open them. Each stated a single codename in elegant design, and she found her own locker a little left of the middle. Curious, she placed her hand on the metal, wondering what contents it held. It gave a sudden beep at her touch, flashing green before slowly opening. 

A bright, beautifully crafted outfit faced her, and she instantly recognized the jacket. Bright yellow, genuine leather. Ribbed at the elbows with stripes of black. Even the smell gave away how divinely expensive the jacket's design was. Yes, it was an excellent replica of the infamous jacket in [i][url=http://www.leatherjacket.tv/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/kill_bill_292-940x1320.jpg]Kill Bill[/url][/i]. The pants she noticed Laraxis took the liberty of switching up. They were black with a little strip of yellow down the sides which she preferred over the whole thing being yellow. Black leather boots up to her knee replaced the traditional yellow shoes. 

[b]"Look at this, Cheshire."[/b] Citrine called to her, pulling out the jacket. [b]"Do you recognize this, by chance?"[/b]

Laraxis' humor wasn't lost on her. Oh yes, this was a play on her codename. Honestly, she usually went on mission in full-black. But this outfit seemed to embrace her, identify her. Her name, her vision, and even her clothing, all in different shades of gold. Shimmering, trans-dimensional gold.