Description: Metallica (1986). The Devil of Koga approaches Elle with a proposition that holds the promise of what could be incomprehensible levels of power. However, her naturally elusive posture becomes her downfall. Elle is forced to extract all the details from Marise through heavy handed demands, which eventually reveals a possible end to Jinchuu which comes at a price. However, some opportunities are just too costly.
There are moments in everyones life where who they are boils down to a simple, inescapable choice.
There are those who desperately try to hide themselves behind the veneer of things such as compassion, righteousness, detatchment or vengeance. For all the labels one desires most to attribute themselves the most, only the one granted by action is what matters. And for some actions.. there can be no middle ground. No grey to hide the depth of one's true nature.
The most terrifying thought of all is the notion that absolutes exist. That there is a black. And a white. And sometimes, this weighty choice is as deceptively simple as flicking a small switch.
Click.
Elle finds herself back once more in her little home away from home. Of course, for the sleep-deprived budding crimelord these four walls are becoming more home than any other place the rugged rockstar could claim to live. The drawers and paperwork is much as she left it to her clearest recall.
The only difference now is that the tall gangster has herself a complimentary Ninja to complete the room set. Revealing herself the moment the lightswitch is turned on, the Devil hardly stirs. As motionless as the corpse she so often seems. This time, facing Elle with her hands neatly folded within the depths of her kimono. Her parasol leaning against the wall at her side as she looms in the corner hauntingly.
"Miss Elle." The Devil's errie, sultry yet discordant voice crosses the distance, "I believe we need to talk. Yes." Lips quirked into something of a self-satisfied smile. Hidden gaze may not be noticed, but most clearly felt.
Choices are easier to make for some more than others. Elle has no problem making quick decisions, no matter how definitive. Every day is a series of numbers and measures as she dutifully moves things around, constantly keeping one step ahead than those around her.
Truth be told, if there was a faster way to do this without breaking the law, she'd do that just as quickly. As it is, the rules that others put around her are merely constructs followed by anyone without the right kind of ambition. If there were enough people out there that knew how simple it was to just mow through social mores, then the pool would be a lot more crowded.
The end result is someone that appears arrogant, egotistical, and cruel to an unwarranted extent. Those characteristics are usually associated with people that share her thought processes. Nevertheless, Elle stays grounded in reality. A firm grip on her own mortality causes rampant paranoia, sleeplessness, and an almost obsessive eye to detail that she's loathe to allow herself to grow lax with.
But with that obessive personality comes certain expectancies. Elle has ceased to be surprised by Marise's odd appearances. Her comings and goings are usually sudden and abrupt and Elle has gotten accustomed to them. Instead of responding to the sinister visage as some might, Elle just sniffs.
"You first," is the reply as Elle steps into her office, hanging a red motorcycle jacket on her coat hanger. "Make it interesting."
"I have spoken with he whom was once known as Ryouhara Hiretsu."
Oh, the rocker may well never know how much the Devil appreciates Elle's business ethic. The grim creature has always considered the foilables of lesser minds to be.. tiresome. To work with someone possessed of a keen intellect, an eye for detail and no insipid moralistic reservations? It's a joy, really.
Precisely why the ghost feels comfortable enough to offer Elle a deal she may not be able to refuse..
"We caught up on.. old times." The Devil cryptically smiles at that. Her voice a touch whistful, "He believes much as we do, really. Honestly.. I am surprised at your continued vehemence at their Clan. They are so very much like you, truly. All intellect. Rationality. Careful and attentive. Soulless. I wonder.."
The Devil tilts her head, voice lilting across the room in a playful manner, "..Do you hate them most because they are so very much like you?" Displaying a level of verve that Elle has not seen in the ghostly thing since they had first met. Perhaps the mysterious creature has decided to reconsider her earlier submissiveness.
..Or perhaps now Marise has finally decided to bring Elle into her full confidence..
"Regardless.." The Devil animates. Shifting from her position smoothly as she slowly stalks around the room, waiting for Elle to settle herself before slowly spiralling inwards towards her, "..We are now at a crossroads, my friend. It is time for us to decide the fates of the Agents of Jinchuu.. and who they shall be."
The question is easy enough to answer. "Vehemence is a strong word," Elle says as she opens her desk drawer to root out the candy she has in there. "But you're around the ballpark. They're 'like me', except they make no sense." She pauses for a moment to unwrap an orange Starburst. Not her favorite, but that's what she's got available. "And the last thing I need around me are people that sit around and think as much as I do about how to get rid of people. You're bad enough as it is. I don't need any more."
That being said, the wrapper is crumpled up and chucked haphazardly at a garbage can, where it bounces in more out of luck than care.
"So what did the old man have to say to you that could possibly be so important that you need all this verbal build up for purposes of suspense?"
It's fairly obvious that Elle's more interested in getting to the heart of the matter immediately. But that's not really anything unusual. As it is, Elle's never really displayed much in the way of patience if she has no real reason to wait. Mincing words has never been her clarion call, and is indeed the reason people say she has a 'bad attitude'.
The Devil chuckles softly as she settles herself onto the edge of Elle's desk. Crossing one lengthly leg over the other as she leans gently one one hand. Facing the rocker in full as she answers in a veritably jovial tone, "Quite right."
As the Rocker pops that candy, a shock of the devil's tresses unweaves itself from the arrangement of twin golden needles. The black silk slithering itself into the depths of the pale woman's bodice as she continues, "Presentation, Miss Elle. As a musician surely you must know its importance, yes?" The black tentacle withdraws a small metal container. Descending to the desktop with careful precision, "Theatre may be overdone. Drama, oblique poetry and literary allusion may be unforgivably bourgeois however.."
The steel encasement is tapped upon the desktop soundly. The impact flipping the case open and revealing precisely eight cigarettes. Hand rolled by the looks of them, with the scent of fine tobacco quite unmistakable. Sweeter than any candy. A big girl's treat.
"..They have their place. After all.. There is more to life than the ticking of the clock, the whirl of gears.." The devil's off hand arises. Pale fingers gently clutching a silver zippo lighter, "..And the clink of metal."
The alluring ghost smiles then, "You understand this on a level that even the Ryouhara do not. The only know the cogs and springs of their cold, lifeless automation. And if you desire to exploit their weakness to the fullest.."
The case of cigarettes is held before the rocker's vision,
"You must be ready to cease opportunity as it arrises."
The Devil continues regardless of Elle's immediate reaction to her present, "The Ryouhara have no personal Jutsu. Their efforts have rendered them all but helpless.. It is why, by and large, they are not often seen. Of course.." Hidden eyes glint beneath their veil, "...I am wondering if there is more information you have uncovered yourself.. Hiretsu refered to the Suiryuu as a great egg. And I am suspecting.. yes.. you may know what they plan to hatch.. hrm?"
Cigarettes. It's been a while. Several months, in fact. In certain ways, the addiction has only been replaced. Candy is eaten almost obsessively now, to quash the hunger and the need to busy her hands with something. "Maybe later," she says, pushing them aside for the time being. "When I have something worth smoking about." Resolve is heavy when you're dedicated. Still, with only eight to the can, wasting them on a chain smoker's compulsion isn't how they should be enjoyed by any means.
"And I have an idea as to what they're doing. If the Suiryuu is an egg, it's all in one basket," Elle replies. "And they're armored it up and down, but it still doesn't mean it can't be cracked."
"There's not much more to the story that you don't already know. So I'll keep this brief. Nikolai's a placeholder and the obvious dark horse meant to wiggle in front of the amatures. The ship's just getting stronger and everyone keeps playing into the Ryuohara's hands. Our closest competion just got sent up the creek with a bunny slipper for a paddle, thanks to Naerose."
"That, and according to certain people on that boat, Hiretsu's gunning for a few people. He's got all kinds of Nietzcheian fantasies about how the world is corrept and that he seeks to usher in a new era of whatever complete and utter dipshit nonsense that he's got going around in his head. The point," Elle says, grabbing the top of the cigarette can, "is that the ship is /somehow/ supposed to perpetuate the existance of the Ryuohara ninja clan." The can is shut with a clang as she brings the lid back on.
"I just don't know how. And while I'm sure everyone is shitting their pants over the Ryuohara getting some new members, I'm sure the 'how' is more valuable than the why at this point."
The mercenary takes a moment to sit back in her chair before picking up the canister and tossing it from hand to hand. "Now, are you going to sit there looking like the cat that ate the cnary all night, or are you going to actually /answer my damn question/?"
The Devil listens very, very attentively as Elle goes through what details she's gleaned recently. Marise herself making sure there was any gaps in her understanding or any new facts uncovered that could perhaps sway her judgement.
The case of cigarettes is easily settled asside for the moment as her hair obediently returns to its formal arrangement. The offering forgotten for the moment as the donor is lost in a moment of contemplation.
For Elle's clarification.. That smile she had before? That was being smug.
The grin that woman sports on her now.. Now that looks like it could swallow more than a canary whole. Information about the Russian was good.. Elle's assessment of Hiretsu is better.
"No no.. You're looking at it from the wrong perspective." The Devil states evenly as she leans just a fraction closer, "They do not desire more Ryouhara. They desire for the Ryouhara.. to be reborn."
The Devil lifts her free hand, index and middle fingers wiggling in quotations as she comments, "Your 'Damn Answer' is this. The piece of information that you have been missing is that the Ryouhara suffer from a curse. The details of it.. even I am not fully aware. One thing is for certain that it has slowly but surely corroded their bloodline. Seishirou, Hiretsu's grandson and Suiin's heir.. Is the last." The Devil nods her head slowly, golden orbs glinting in shadow, "As is.. Seishirou would be the last generation and their line will be no more. Unless.. of course.. He was to be.. remade."
Fanged teeth whisper sweetly, "Ask yourself.. have you seen Seishirou himself since this tournament began.. Hm? Has anyone? Of course not. He is what is incubating within this 'egg'. And he will become.." The Devil simply tilts her shoulder somewhat passively, "..The future of their line. Of course as far as the remainder of those aboard? Who can say really. Perhaps witnesses to the spectacle to come? Unusual hubris for them.. but clearly, desperation has driven them far. Of course.."
The Devil slowly leans back. Giving her fearless leader a little distance, and letting all of that sink in, "...Unless we can think of a better use for all of that power.."
The Devil's sing song tone implies just such a thing.. And the glint of that wicked fang implies it means ill for many, many people.
The mercenary pauses in her tossing the can to herself, the cigarettes placed aside with a thump on piles of paper. "Back up. You're skipping details. You're talking all sorts of talk that make no sense to me. What do you mean 'curse'?"
"And that doesn't exactly mesh up with the observations I've been making," Elle points out, shuffling around the papers on her desk. "All the data and sample taking that they've been going through, plus that 'final project' that you said they were working on. If it was as simple as purging Seishirou of some kind of curse, they could have done it without the dog and pony show."
The theory doesn't quite sit right with Elle, and the woman folds her arms as she leans back in thought. Eyes narrow as she tries to make sense of the new information. "It doesn't jive. They're gathering too much data for this to be that simple. The only way I can put this together in my head is that they're using all the chi in the boat to convert the Ryuohara's curse... and, wait, no, even that doesn't make sense."
The chair is swivled about so that Elle faces Marise completely. "Okay. A curse, I can believe. But the rest of the theory doesn't really mesh up with all the other information that's there. The procedure seems too complex for that to be the sole purpose here."
The mercenary's skepticism is met with an eager smile. The Devil nods her head slowly at certain points, seemingly not too concerned about what gives Elle moments of confusion. "Ah! Indeed yes. Hiretsu.. as you have mentioned.. has broader plans. You could say.. He may be solving all of those problems in one fell swoop, yes?"
The Devil unmoving from her perch, eyes never straying from Elle for a moment as the Rock Tyrant herself concentrates and focuses on the problem at hand. Marise, clearly, has other concerns occupying her thoughts.. And speaks those considerations without hesitation.
"But there is the earlier matter I had mentioned to you.. hrm?" The Devil slowly taps her nails upon the surface of the desk. Clicking upon the surface in a pulsing, staccato beat.. like a third-dozen knives tapping in sequence, "The Ryouhara are virtually helpless during this transition. Without his Jutsu.. even Hiretsu is virtually powerless. And, to be sure.." The Devil tilting her head a fraction back, "I admire the man's position. Indeed.. We see eye to eye on many things. We do.. however.. disagree on .... Ah, Yes. Volume." The Devil levels her gaze once more, "The point is.. There lies the path of taking control of the Suiryuu. A vessel crafted of Ninkoujutsu requires specific technique to manipulate. Without breath of their own.. They rely upon contrivances to command the ship for them. You see? They can borrow from the ship to defend themselves.. And they certainly have defensive mechanisms built into the vessel.. But if, say, the vessel was briefly.. ah.."
Nails scratching the surface of the desk, "..Disrupted?"
"I'm not committing forces to anything unless I've worked out all the possibilities out," Elle says flatly, "and you're not giving me a good reason. You're witholding information from me that might be vital. Again, there's some kind of curse I don't know about. You're telling me that the Ryuohara are helpless right now, without telling me how this happened, or why."
She sits back up.
"Look. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt on a lot of things, but this time you're only giving me details that you want to give me, and that," Elle says raising a hand and holding a thumb and forefingr less than an inch apart, "is about this far out from me tossing your can out the door and telling you to come back when you feel like making a lick of sense."
"Even Naerose will spit up all the information when I ask her. So far, what I've got from you is 'curse', 'rebirth, 'egg', 'helpless' 'attack boat'. I didn't think I'd have to go through this with you, but if you want to get down to basics: who, what, when, where, why, and how?" Deadned brown eyes don't give away much information, but given that Elle considers her time extremely valuable and her people that much more so, it's not a far cry to beleive that her abysmal tolerance for fooling around is getting taxed.
Thats when the smug, self-satisfied smile goes away.
The Devil listens to Elle's pointed reproach and amusement drains from her expression. Marise gives Elle a hardened look then and there.
The ghost just handed her everything she needs to know. Just handed her the one piece of information no one has, and even outright told her precisely how to exploit that.
If Elle expects this monsterous thing to argue and snap retorts in the face of a tirade, she's clearly forgotten with whom she's speaking with.
The Devil, unlike the mercenary or the Ryouhara, has a true temper. Her business is on a level that defies mere dollars and cents and such trappings. For a long, looooong moment that humorless expression simply holds still.
Which is about when Marise slowly comes to decide she has far too much invested in Blackjack to simply throw it away on temper alone. That said.. Her playful aire is gone.
With a quiet movement the Devil slips from Elle's desk. Prowling about the Office a moment silently. A near perfect inversion of her original approach. Only after an even longer moment of consideration... she decides to offer.
"The Ryouhara Curse, I do not know specifics. Only that it diminishes their bloodline. Hiretsu was always what most would consider a cruel, unsympathetic man. We both believe that the world could use.. perhaps a little upheavel. For those most deserving, to acchieve their just rewards. As far as the 'Chi'.. as you call it." The Devil's head tilts a fraction, but not facing Elle again, "He intends to create a reaction so vast it can be seen across the vastness of the Pacific itself. Doubtlessly healing the family heir .. as well as affection all aboard the ship in a way that I can not say."
Now that that, has been spoken in the most crystal of terms. The ghost exhales in a slow, boiling annoyance, "What I have spoken of the Ryouhara control methods of their ship, is true. I cannot set foot upon their vessel. What you choose to do with that information.. Is your decision to make."
"Exactly," Elle replies, her voice dry, emotionless and cool as ever. She simply does not like to play games. Information first, play later. It's odd that the only ones that seem to recognize this are Tran and Leilani, although perhaps less so on the latter.
Elle is not a friend. Elle is not a confidant. Elle is business, cold and simple. She doesn't care if Marise has entrusted her with her secrets or if Marise wants her to curl up and die. The fact is, if Elle loses, she has a logn way to fall. Marise, with a lack of any sort of solid ties or responsibility can easily float off into the ether.
Because of this, Elle's one reaction to everything shall be the methodical analysis of all angles, now and forever.
"Now," she says as Marise finally gives her the play by play, "If what you say is true, then it doesn't matter who gets the benefits of the ship. It doesn't matter if they're purging Seishirou of a curse, building an heir, generating a clone army, or resurrecting any number of Ryuohara."
The statement hangs in the air as Elle considers the situation now.
"Now, tell me about the control structure of the ship. Apparently, there's a technique that needs to be learned. Is there system schematics to look at? Diagrams? Charts? Mechanics?" The mercenary laces her fingers in front of her. "The Ryuohara have already made the mistake of putting their eggs in one basket. I'm not going to put mine in there as well."
The message is clear, but in case it's not, "Slow. Down. We have a heads up on everyone. I want the boat as much as the next son of a bitch that ever took a contract on a human life. But there's a shitload of things I don't understand, and I'm not going in there until /I/ feel comfortable."
"There is precious little time remaining."
The Devil states in a calm, cold voice. "From what I saw of the ship.. I will tell you. I could see that it was nearing fruition."
Oh, The fact that Elle is no friend is not a problem for Marise. The Devil would have likely killed her already if her guard was not always at least.. present. Compassion or trust is never something this.. dark thing is remotely capable of. Her only frustration? That the presented business proposition was not.. valuable enough. Not to mention the window of opportunity for so much more is dwindling away.
Well. It is not optimal but.. She'll have to place her faith in Hiretsu now. As slower going as it will be, opportunities will arise. Best to start putting Blackjack in position to take advantage, she supposes.
Ah yes.. The small matter of Elle being the fall girl. It is no small secret that Marise has hidden in Elle's shadow. The success of her paranoid, maniac-obsessive business acumen has served Blackjack well. Even if it can get.. frustrating to work with.
As far as the notion of 'it doesn't matter', the Devil snorts once. The ghost has already stated how much she cares about any of those issues. That is to say.. not at all. Unlike Elle, she is quite happy to deal in information that is not chilling, clinical fact. Marise understands the scope.. and the means. That is more than enough to take what she desires most. To others? Well.. the Hell with them.
"All I know.." The Devil slowly states in response, "...Is that Hiretsu has with him a cane at all times. With this.. he channeled power from the ship to himself. It is what he requires to control the ship. I presume.. Seishirou's child apprentice possesses a similar device as well." The Devil turns her head a fraction in rememberance, her back yet mostly turned still, "..I believe it may have been in her pocket. Yess.."
The Devil then turns slowly. Hidden gaze regarding Elle with something not quite readable, but not neutral, "The last detail I have for you. The vast majority of the 'chi' as you say, held within that vessel came from no living thing currently aboard. It was acquired.. Elsewhere."
The Devil's parasol snaps open with an abrupt flourish. Hefting the article high and shadowing her from view, "More I cannot provide. The ship would destroy me if I so much as touched it's hull. I have learned all I can from without. The rest.. must come from within the egg."
And with that, the Devil sees herself out. Her pace just a little quicker than usual.. doubtlessly fueled by frustration of her plans denied.
Nnn. It would have sent such a beautiful thing too.. Such power is wasted on life. Death is so much more ..potent a message. But then.. there's always next time..
"Again. Great idea. Shitcanned execution. You can't just haphazardly throw facts at me and expect me to assemble a plan out of that," is the reply to the information provided. "Considering that this guy is supposed to be the deadliest bastard alive with his magical sword and his magical ship-controlling cane, exactly how did you expect me to get ahold of it?" Elle's eyebrow raises as if half expecting a response.
"Oh, here's a thought. I'll send Birdie to tippy-toe into a ninja's cabin and steal it while he's asleep. And when he's done with that, he can steal Riko's too. And then after that, we'll all fly away to the Planet Zoob in a boat we make out of wishes and potato chips."
"I don't have the manpower you're looking for. The one person I have that /could/ have done it has been AWOL for over a month," Elle explains flatly. "After that, I have a witch with a off-kilter brain, a sawed off midget with a loud mouth, a robot schoolgirl with all the imagination of a pocket calculator, two meatheads that couldn't plan an assault on a McDonalds without messing it up, and a ninja that bursts into flames."
"Right now, they have, at their employ, a giant ship filled with god knows what, an entire army of kids that will fight for them and work for them because they have nothing better to do, and two ninja masters, one of which is apparently death that walks like a man, and the other an annoying little piss that can best by top agents in one on one combat. Oh, and let's not forget Seishirou, who may or may not be buried in the middle of that giant floating energy crockpot, stewing in juices they apparently got straight from /hell/ and making his own fucking gravy. Thanks for weighing me in on the whole alien chi thing."
The Blackjack leader's face hasn't wavered, but the tone of her voice indicates someone that's just not too thrilled at the moment. "If you can provide me with some /marginably/ sane plan of attack as to how to get any of that to work, I'll see about getting it done. But make no mistake: when I deal with Vega, or when I deal with you, I want all cards on the table, and everything clean and clear cut. You tacking on that little extra fact about an alien power source doesn't make me very confidentin anything you're suggesting, because you're hiding shit that /you/ don't think is important."
"Well guess what? These people work, and trust, me. Not you. I'm not barbecuing my staff because you're got a fat grin on your face and wet dreams about global destruction." The words are flatly conveyed, mechanical. However, she takes the loyalty of her employees dead serious. They depend on her, and she depends on them. Destroying that trust is tantamount to suicide.
And there lies the difference between them. As plain as day.
The Devil pauses then at the doorway. Listening to the language of the tirade, completely belying the deadpan delivery. Only the does the ghost regain a small fraction of that previous smile, the edge of her lip quirking upwards. A mirthless gesture, devoid of humor. More of a mild revelation that Marise did not particularly want to make. After all..
..Yes. Marise fully expected most of these employees to probably die in the process. Staff is replaceable. She'd kill them all with her bare hands if it meant getting a fraction of what she wanted. A suicidal mission? Risking the life and limb of those compromising the organization Elle so painstakingly put together for what a monster considers a 'calculated risk'?
Of course. The Devil doesn't need to speak another word on the subject. Elle's position on this is crystal clear and this dark creature doesn't particularly have a more carefully considered plan that doesn't involve.. well.
"So be it. Miss Elle."
The Devil simply continues her quiet exit. Slipping through the door and into the dark hallway beyond without as much as another sound. She made her bid. No sense in wasting time belaboring the point. Arguing is something other people do.
Trust and loyalty was her choice? Hmph. Marise was wrong about her then, perhaps.
Yes.. Elle was certainly right about one thing. This was too quick. Impetuous even.. She'll have to act more cautiously next time. Yes indeed..
In short: Marise's proposition wasn't enough.
People trust Elle, for what it's worth. Would they follow her to their death? Some would. Some wouldn't. Her pull on her 'soldiers' varies from person to person. But to her, each loyal indvidual, willing to place their life on the line for her, has an exceedingly high value.
And Elle doesn't have any delusions as to what just occured. Everyone's always trying to use everyone else. That's the risk you take when you sign on someone like Marise, and perhaps the reason why the ninja sought her out, and not the other way around.
But when push comes to shove, could she give up her people? Tran, with his never say die attitude? Naerose, with her knack of pulling a win from her hat, sometimes literally? Katana, with his never ending quest for honor and glory? Birdie, with his straightforward, simplistic, and yet deep understanding of human nature? Aislinn, with her quiet, unquestioning nature? Or Leilani, the person that showed her to begin with that sometimes, people will fight for you no matter what the odds are, and that even when presented the option of running away, they'll stand there broken and bleeding because Elle gave them a second chance.
Elle abandoned one person. Safiullah was nothing more than usless meat. His loyalty waved when pressured and when the time came, Tran beat him senseless and threw him down several flights of stairs. So when the question is posed on whether or not Elle is ruthless enough? The answer is always yes.
The question is value.
Right now, the whole boat, and all it's secrets and power within aren't even worth Naerose on her worst day.
The boat is filled with power she couldn't begin to understand or comprehend. There'd be only two things she could do the the boat: sell it, or be forced to rely on Marise to gain mastery of the vessel. With all her crew dead, the former would be usless, and the second would have her stripped of freedom, forced to depend on the only person that could show her how to use the Suiryuu's power.
Elle's not willing to sell the people that trust her, and her own soul, down the river on the say so of some thing that lives in the shadows. Especially one that lost her own clan to the machinations of people that understood, at the very least, coordination, loyalty, and teamwork.
The Devil of Koga takes her leave, and Elle settles down, the suggestion of the takeover not forgotten, but placed aside, much like the offered tempation of cigarettes. She reaches into her desk drawer, and picks out another candy, unwrapping it slowly as her computer fires up again.
No, she can't get the scepter, or Rika's device... but there are those that can.
It's time to run a few simulations. Just to make sure all the bases are covered.
Log created on 22:25:12 09/18/2007 by Elle, and last modified on 23:22:27 09/27/2007.