Needle in a Haystack

[Mikhail]

Shit was going down. Yeah, an understatement alright. Mik heard all the rumbling and such. The Yakuza was making moves- them and then Kolos and Mordvinovs and Triads in turn- and the tension ratcheted up again and again and again. And so he did his usual thing- float in, listen a little, rap a little, flirt a little (well, not a little..I mean could you blame him? Those Yakuza guys and girls were hot. And then a hint of inked black lines at the top of a collared shirt or narrow chokered dress disappeared tantalizingly behind proper demure clothing, only playfully to peekout at cuffed wrist or an exposed leg through a dress slit...I mean come on! You telling me he didn't like what he saw?)

So anyway, yeah, Yakuza and co busy and him getting Intel and doing what he could to be the information guy, all the while the lady (this time she wore Yun Kao's face) smiling, knowing that shit was indeed going to go down and there might even be some fire in the mix and did he want to see it? To which he said fuck yes) and....where was he? Oh yeah.

All of which to say the feel in the air was electric, almost like he could smell a storm or something. And he loved it. Like loved it like when he was in a chase, his prey glancing back to make sure he was coming (and oh, he would yoo). Like when he was pulling the leather straps tight around a wrist, the strained cords of tendon and muscle in the wrist of his sub telling him how far to go, enjoying the slow process of immobilizing them. Like when the leather hood over his face let not a sliver of light peek through and his breathing around his saliva covered ball gag was labored, competing the with sounds of his Dom handling various implements and he writhed in anticipation of what those might hint was coming next.

Oh yeah, the atmosphere was laden with potential and the lady teased him on and...well, what the fuck was Mik to do? The slow build was pleasurable. Amazing. And excrutiating. But he wanted to have fun tonight. And this time have a bit more fun that a drink with a deadly hot but silent chick or a guy who, for all he liked to be looked at and tease, was in a committed relationship (and shoot him if that ever was where was going. For reals. Right in the balls since he wasn't gonna need em then.)

So where was he? Oh yeah. Potentuous days and horny nights and he with the biggest case of blue balls in the world and for fuck's sake he just wanted to blow something up- his load or a car or a head, it didn't matter.

So down to the tunnels he went, his lighter in his hand flicking the flint occasionally, the power flooding him and bringing the terrible and wonderful and nauseating and exciting scents of what might be. Oh some homeless folk shied away, but his winningest smile was enough to get at least one to talk. Or maybe the candy bars in this pocket. Whichever, be got a bead on a...something. 

And holy shit he wanted a something. The bigger the better. Marry fuck kill, without the marry. He just needed to know which. 

So he'd walking along, tralala, trying to pick up the scent of blood or gore over the nastiness of the tunnels....and sure enough, the lady was good to him. Yun raised an eyebrow, smirk on her lips, and nodded in the direction of one tunnel. Mik grinned at her and headed down, deeper. No telling what was down here. 

The lighter in his hand wasn't a joke. A weave or two of fire played at his fingertips, a faint green blue flame that wreathed sinuously around his fingers. In less time it took to wink, it would lash out, a whip he had trained with enough that it was faster than thought. 

Damn but the anticipation was fucking fun. He just hoped something happened.