New Allies

[Oriena]

Her reaction was just a little violent, and it shivered Oriena with amusement. Not that she was surprised Nox was the object of such frustration. A brow rose at the threat, not quite sure what she made of it. Did she care if the woman was trying to kill him? Not really; at least not on a personal level, but she wasn’t entirely blind to the way the ijiraq had twisted her either. Even before its influence she had had a fondness for those who wielded the same power, though it could hardly be called loyalty. Now, though? Discomfort pierced for the vice of those forced emotions. Her gaze narrowed, unsure upon whom to exact an outlet for that irritation.

She watched the woman for a moment longer. She doubted Yun had been ruminating on incentives to offer a man she couldn’t find. And certainly not one she planned to kill. Ori scented that secret, but she let it lie. 

“Oh, so you lost him.” A sharp smile, just before the bellow came from below. She recognised that voice, and she wasn’t particularly glad to hear it.

[Yun Kao]

Lost him sounded correct but Yun wasn't going to admit that. And she didn't have to as a man of note came up to them. Ryker was always showing up at the strangest moments. The Yakuza always seemed to be around. Yun wondered if the other was around. The small-time fire starter. Yun snapped her fingers and one of her lackeys came up to her. "Let him in and find the other trouble maker with him." Yun whispered to her man then looked out across the way to the scar-faced man. "What brings you to our little party?" Yun smiled but she was truly interested, what trouble was about to happen. "Join us." It seemed the Yakuza's party was turning into something else.

They didn't appear to happy but they didn't balk either, better to have the trouble makers tagged first and foremost. "We were just talking about lost things."

[Oriena]

An indolent gaze turned to watch the approach of Yun’s guest, running him top to toe with every inch the sort of carnal possession he deployed on others. She lingered on his disfigurement with the hint of a smile, while beside her Yun perked noticeably at the intrusion. She seemed genuinely welcoming of his unexpected company. Ori had seen them together before, of course, and had little interest in where Yun’s tastes ran; nor did she particularly care for whatever boring ties of business the two would perhaps now wish to discuss. But the perch of her throne was not one she was in much hurry to relinquish.

Ryker tweaked strings like a lazy puppeteer. Ivan had been blind to the manipulation, and Oriena had played for as long as it amused her to be the weapon he used to break the man into something that might more easily be moulded. He thought himself a lion amongst sheep.

Didn’t everyone? 

Truthfully he bored her, but only because of that carefully placed mask: the one of smooth, unblemished skin. She’d witnessed the violent spark of his temper back at the bar with Mikhail, tempered to apathy the moment it surfaced, and that alone differentiated him from every other fucker clawing for power in the Custody’s foul heart. Control mattered to him. But the ugliness of his scars was the truth.

Her smirk cut like shards of glass, the glitter of her attention somewhere between cruelty and mischief as he ascended. It was intended to make him uncomfortable, though she doubted he would pay her presence much attention, let alone consider that the territory into which he strayed was most assuredly hers. An ulterior motive prompted his visit to the Syndicate leader, she assumed, but she did not much care what it was. Yun made small talk, and it was her attentions he courted. Oriena was left to consider her own pleasures. For it had been easy to web her way into Yun’s head, to smooth her way into welcome, and now she wondered what small measures it might take to lift Ryker’s mask.

[Ryker]

Ryker glared at the goons now parting to allow his passage. They all played their little parts, including Yun Kao as the gracious hostess allowing the peasantry nibbles from her table. Ryker was born in hell, walked through it and came to the other side scarred for the journey. He wanted more than crumbs.

He took the madam’s hand, kissed upon the knuckles. “Business, certainly. You remember my own interests with our mutual associates,” he said as he sat. The roaming eyes of a nearby lioness were sensed then. They may undress him with their eyes or shred his clothes with their teeth, either way made him sneer with disgust.

He remembered Oriena from the club. The cocky way she thought she was above men. Someone needed to put the slut in her place. When he had time, he’d do the deed himself. A glance promised as much.

When his attentions returned to Madam Yun, they were no less stern, but the edge of danger was blunted. “Business. And pleasure,” his gaze slid down her fine form.

[Yun Kao]

There was just something about the scarred man that let the vibe be creepy but ever so interesting. The look on his face said pleasure might be more his game today. Not that Yun would mind much. But there was business to attend. But they had prying ears. The owner of Kallisti was known for her games too. They didn't need to share their secrets any more than necessary. "In present company - you might have to settle for pleasure then." She winked at him, "At least for now."

Their mutual acquaintances were all chatting in Japenese. They had their own secrets it seemed. Thankfully Yun had one of her own listening nearby. Their secrets would be her secrets later. It helped to employ the right folks.

"Ryker, do you know Oriena?" The looks that had passed between the two had said that and more. How? Why? and was this connected? Yun made a note to herself to follow the potential lead and/or damage this little impromptu meeting could yield.

[Oriena]

She watched Ryker play with his food, amused for the particularly vile spark of ire he shot in her direction. He knew what she was, and he’d seen first hand the searing nature of the power the ijiraq had torn through her bones. A little bit of scorn barely stung, but if he wanted to tease so prettily, he could not complain if she bit. Dry laughter escaped, content for now to be a spectator to the sport.

Honestly, she was surprised Yun appeared to fall so readily for the artifice. Those lips poured poison that was not even particularly honeyed, and they poured it cloying thick. Whether it was truth or some game of her own Ori did not try to fathom, though she did study the woman’s expression out of sheer curiosity when his lips met those knuckles, and when that insinuation hit like a blunt slap in the face. But Yun only winked at him.

“Hers, or yours? Tell me, does it even still work?” The remark was flippant enough, but she didn’t disguise her desire for a reaction either. Those scars webbed a trail that dipped below the cusp of his collar, and one eye was milky blind; perhaps it had not been the only thing damaged by his injuries. It might explain his foul mood. Her smile sharpened into a challenge, but she doubted he would take the bait. Her shoulder tipped into a shrug. “Pleasure is my business, after all.”

“A passing acquaintance,” she supplied to the question Yun has asked of him, though she was sure he had his own version. “He never collected on a wager, actually.”

[Ryker]

To answer Yun’s question, Ryker was a deadpan professor, “I do. She has a thing for exotic pets,” he said as he leaned on his knees. He’d go for the throat when possible, but only after the flesh was lulled to his lap first. “It didn’t let you go, did it. Does it still hurt? When you’re alone, and its quiet and dark. Do you grow nervous? Afraid of what it will do?” he asked about the beast from the ball, but he may as well have implicated himself as her tormentor. Oriena’s message was delivered after all, and in response, he probed painfully deep. A surgeon dismantling his prey.

At Almaz, he found Oriena entertaining enough for a woman, but now, his disgust for her almost rivaled Yun Kao, but where Yun would get it as a lesson to stay content in her place of smallness, Oriena would get it because Ryker wanted to burn the fucking smile from her face.

[Oriena]

He ignored the question, which only deepened her smirk into something suitably unimpressed; oh, he was all talk. The barbs of his insult tore across the surface, she was not immune, but they were still only words -- and he was wrong to think her afraid of pain in any case. The queen had pulled her into the dark of the underground for an ambush, and if the memories of that time were slick and unfathomable in detail, they still provoked a visceral reaction. It was a torment she had given herself to willingly, and new power spun in those dark webs. She had been remade. 

But it had a price. Power usually did.

“I think you know full well the opportunity to be found in adversity. For those with enough nerve, at least.” A brow rose, but her smile had flattened. Distraction plucked at the corners of her mind like clawing hands reaching for the bank of shore. Hunger clenched her stomach. There were words, dozens of them, all strung together in desperate need. The only phrase she could pick out clearly anoathwasmade anoathwasmade anoathwasmade, building like a crescendo.

It still hurt. And she didn’t need to be alone to feel it.

He was wrong about who ought to be afraid. She was but a filmy barrier between the creatures and the freedom they craved, and then whatever had cost him his face might seem like a children’s lullaby in comparison. 

“Would you like a taste, Ryker? Because I’m happy to share.” 

[Ivan Sarkozy]

Ivan slowly walked over to Lt. Petrovitch, letting his nerves show. It was in character, after all. She looked at him coolly, an eyebrow raised over a blue eye. She was maybe 15 years older than him- though only a touch of white showed at the temples of her dirty blonde hair- and had probably been in the Syndicate at least as long. 

Which was to say that she was all in. And she probably didn't think much of Ivan with his reputation as a boy scout. He had to make this believable.

He looked around, just a hint of discomfort in his eyes. She wouldn't believe it if he overdid it. Nor would she buy that he was suddenly all in with Yun after so short a time. Walk that line, Ivan, he thought, the faces of Danya and Zara flashing through his mind. Nerves, but also frustration at his situation.

It was all true enough, after all.

His voice was pitched low enough to be heard only by her over the noise. "Lieutenant," he said nodding to her. She peered up at him.

"What do you want Sarkozy?", showing a hint of irritation.

He grimaced, not hiding a scowl, letting some of his irritation show. "Look, you know my situation. I don't have to like it or you. But I'm not gonna let my family get killed either. So hear what I have to say and that's it."

She studied him with those cold blue eyes, perhaps remembering herself at the beginning. Or maybe not. Maybe she had been corrupt from the beginning. It wasn't like positions of power didn't attract wannabe assholes. Still, it was all he had. After a moment, she nodded.

He nodded in the direction where he knew Yun Kao's pavillion sat. "Our...boss put me on security the other night. Secondary back up. I really didn't know what was going on, other than there was some sort of transaction going on." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he went over her, smirking as he raised his own eyebrow. "I'm not stupid, LT. I did pass the detective's exam. Anyway, obviously it's something Yun and the rest want."

He nodded in the direction of a passing Yakuza. "And now I'm here as plainclothes security. I was in line at a food cart and saw one of the Yakuza talking to one of the men with the merchants. Not anyone with a speaking role, as I remember. Low level grunt like me."

The irritation at the words was deeper- and real- at being relegated to such a menial role. There was a bit of a smirk on her lips. She got it.

"Anyway, I'm just saying that maybe the Yakuza may have ulterior motives." Which was also an obvious truth. It wasn't like either of them were working out of the goodness of their hearts.

She looked at him for a long moment, measuring, before nodding. "Alright, Sarkozy. I'll pass it along. It's probably nothing, but keep your eyes open."

Which was all he could do. Now he hoped his little bit of intel to Mik planted the same kind of seed to take root. Maybe enough to widen into a crack.

[Mikhail]

Mik looked at the message Ivan sent him. Not bad, really. Not bad at all. Ori was certainly an angle he would use. He had a reputation, after all. And it wasn't like he was gonna say anything that wasn't true.

Can't damage the brand, right? He didn't owe Ryker jack shit. He was just out for some fun. The Lady was out and about in spades tonight. This was a powder keg. He was curious to see what a small spark did.

Junichi saw him coming and his face hardened. Mik laughed, holding out his hands, "Oh come on, Junichi. Don't be like that. You know I was gonna call you." He gave the smile that usually smoothed things over. It was 50/50 it would work here. The Yukuza had their fucking honor and all that bullshit.

"Look, I'm sorry, ok? I've been busy, that's all." He suddenly looked all serious, glancing around as if worried someone might overhear more than just two guys having a lover's beef. "Ok. Look. I got something for you. And by you I don't just mean you. I mean your boss. The Oyobun."

That got his fucking attention. He suppressed a smile. Honor was such a fucking weakness. Good thing he had none. The Lady with Ori's face laughed in his head. Hey, doll. I'm just following your lead.

He pulled him aside. "So I got a guy in the Syndicate who tells me shit." His words were purposely phrased and pitched to spark a bit of jealousy. What kind of guy? When do they talk?

Emotions kept people from thinking clearly, right?

So, anyway, "The Syndicate are looking to make a deal for some merch. No idea what. But it's serious shit, from the people involved." All true enough.

But now was the spin. Not a lie. Never when giving out info. The brand, ya know? "But here's the thing. Maybe you have one of your guys pass by the Spider's lair and see who sitting in her nest? You have ears on the ground. See who it is. Someone with silk threads to those in power." Ok. Maybe he exaggerated a little. Ori had her threads. And there were rumors she had met the Ascendancy- though he'd never believe that she had any sway over him. So what he said was true enough- for the two-bit information broker he pretended to be.

He raised an eyebrow, half grin on his full lips. "You get what I'm saying? The Spider is playing her own game. Which, duh. But will your boss end up being another fly in her web or will he been an equal?"

Oh yeah! That pissed him off. He could tell. If Junichi had a shred less self control,- and if Mik wasn't a fucking moron- his guts would have been spilled out on the ground.

But emotions roiling and suppressed? Hahaha!! Already he could imagine the story growing in Junichi's mind. And each retelling would make it swell larger and more dangerous

The Lady smiled at him and he couldnt help it. He felt warmth.

Fuck, but he loved playing the game!