The Otter
NoriWasHere
Yankee
Andre Valias
Evil Ghost Note
IAmTheIsland
Atrophy
LanaStorm
Memoria
flux
A bright, golden thread wove itself down the aisle, alerting Citrine of the stewardess slowly making her way with the food cart. Watching the hand-out of snacks and drinks made her tummy audibly growl; she hadn't had a thing to eat all night what with the rushed packing and a quick taxi. When the stewardess reached her she spun a quick sob story that scored her two extra cookies, crackers, and a free sandwich. Happy with the spoils of her labour, she devoured it all in ten minutes flat.
Satisfied, she spent the rest of the flight going through scenarios in her head. While her vision couldn't show what awaited her in New York, she assumed a couple things. There would be other Operatives in Manhattan Square, some of which she may not be happy to see. And the eccentric trying to control the most rare breed of humans in the world, she was curious to see what his game was. Security would be on high alert at the Square (the masked man was an idiot, really), so going in disguise would be her best chance. It wouldn't do to have the suits walk her off in handcuffs, not with the game only beginning.
10:15am
After holing up in a hotel and finding a couple hours of sleep, Citrine treated herself to a small spree down the flashy stores of New York. Her disguise went for a chic, trendy look, dressing in a cashmere shirt, dark slacks, a beige pinstripe blazer and white high heels. A colourful silk scarf wrapped around her head and white Ray Bans hid her eyes, perfectly disguising her most noticeable features.
Manhattan Square was encircled by officers and shiny police cars, just as Citrine anticipated. She knew talking her way in would be useless and resigned to simply walk around the Square, eyes open. The other Operatives would be faced with the same predicament, she just hoped the eccentric man had a way to contact them despite the cops crawling around.
"Miss, excuse me but I believe you dropped this." Said a man behind her. When Citrine shook her head he simply pressed a wallet into her hand and walked off, disappearing into the crowd. What surprised her was what the wallet contained -- $1000 in cash and a brand-new identity with her picture on it. The fakes were very convincing; whoever forged these had some serious skill. The wallet also contained a note, which Citrine curiously read:
Come join me at my facility under Magnet Theaters, 254 West and 29th Street. Come alone. Don't be followed. The consequences could be... Well, unpleasant.
Hugs and Kisses,
~Laraxis
Citrine re-counted the bills, debating if it was enough to cover her shopping bill. Quietly tutting, she hailed a taxi and made her way to the west side of New York. Stopping ten blocks away, Citrine stepped out and continued the rest on foot, quickly glancing around. It was too easy, slipping back into the old ways. Back when predators hunted predators...
Her senses unfolded outwards, picking up the emotions broadcasting in her vicinity. Dozens of pinpoints registered on her internal radar, commanding half her attention as she methodically zig-zagged her walking, searching for any suspicious patterns. About five minutes from the theatre Citrine finally spotted two shady spots shadowing her movements, and she darted into an alley. The suspicious targets rushed in after her, panicking, to which she quickly diffused in the darkness. With two men knocked out cold, Citrine departed the alley and finished her journey.
The theatre was wedged in among many other buildings along the busy streets, windows facing the road with an elegant, dark green awning overhanging the concrete. Thick gold letters spanned the awning: MAGNET THEATER
Citrine slipped through the doors, unsurprised to see the theatre empty except for one child hostess who seemed to recognize her. The child escorted her to an elevator behind the 'Employees Only' door, and she was sent several levels underground. To her amusement, this Laraxis character installed the elevators with music. The lamest piano music possible.
The elevators opened to a hallway of shiny white floors, walls, and a high ceiling of equal shine. The hallway led to a huge warehouse-like room filled with various containers, strange bits of metal, and rolls upon rolls of copper wire. Laxaris stood at the center of a massive computer console, surrounded by men in white working on glass dashboards flickering with data. Laraxis still wore the same robes he did when he hacked into the broadcasting channels, but the mask was gone, revealing perfect platinum hair short on the sides and slicked back. His angelic face was offset by the sharp line of black underlining his blue eyes.
A wolfish grin flashed across his face. "I see you got my gift."
Citrine played the magnanimous card, returning the smirk. "I was so intrigued, Mr. Laraxis. 'Twas very generous of you, to be sure. Nothing's free these days, however, and I know there's a catch."
He waved her off, shaking his head. "No catch, no catch. Please, do you think of me so negatively? I have only an innocent proposal, one which I'll give once more of your brethren arrive." He gestured to a tea tray beside him. "Do you take sugar?"
"Hah, I don't know if we were that close." Citrine scoffed. "No, straight with a shot of peach Schnapps please."