Blood Sport

[Giovanni Cavelli]

The an spoke. Giovanni listened but really didn't care what he said. That man wasn't normal? No shit, he was a walking corpse. He was another game player huh? Like Oriena or Nox? Oriena was fine, Nox was just obnoxious.

Giovanni huffed out a chuckle. "Are any of us really normal?"
Giovanni met the other man's gaze, trying to puzzle him out. He said he wanted to enjoy the game, but what part did he play?

Giovanni pulled out a chair and offered it to Oriena. "If you would rather sit.
It wasnt a command, just a gentlemanly move from somewhere in the ddep recesses of his mind.

Giovanni surveyed the room. Security was starting to bother everyone. What right had they to be bitchy. They did jack shit while he protected their "esteemed clientele." It was only a matter of time before they came over here.

Should I know you?"
Giovanni said, turning to face the newcomer. "I've seen your face."


Before the man could answer, security arrived at his table. Good evening, gentlemen. How may I help you?"
GiovannI said in a tone that conveyed his lack of concern for what they thought.


Edited by Giovanni Cavelli, Apr 15 2015, 10:23 PM.

[Oriena]

Ori set the game pieces, but was content to observe the way things unfurled from there.

Brief irritability smoked in her eyes at Giovanni's suggestion - if she desired to sit, she was quite capable of doing so. The chivalry was futile. Worse, it was held in contempt. Positioned as she was behind him, he wouldn't see it on her face, though she had done nothing to hide the acidity of her nature from him since they had met. She chose to ignore that he had spoken.

She instead deemed to openly inspect the man who had approached them. The brief, sharp smirk on her lips suggested that despite Giovanni's ignorance, she knew exactly who he was. Though she declined to add any clarity to the situation.

Men milled at their feet, checking on the corpse - for it became clear very quickly that that's what it was. Ori's fingers tapped a languid pattern on the back of Giovanni's chair, where she still lounged like a cat with easy prey.

Amid the security, another man approached. Lean and elegant, trailed by a number of men obviously charged with his protection. A gap parted around him. An aura of wealth, of power. Dark eyes surveyed one half remainder of the night's entertainment. "Dead," he said flatly, then turned that piercing gaze to Giovanni's face. A moment of search and dismissal of the features, the assertion that he was no one important, though perhaps the sigma's company might prove pause.

"An eye for an eye. I believe you owe the man recompense, Giovanni."
She leaned in a little to offer the advice, though her words were loud enough to be heard by those gathered. An angel offering the path to smooth this unfortunate mess. Or, more as like, the poison of a plotting she-devil.

[Marcus DuBois]

The man was posturing. Malik was amused. To his question he merely quirked an eyebrow. "Perhaps"
This man's recognition meant little to him. His...goals were far more subtle than merely being famous.

The woman's smirk said she understood. Indeed, from her position, even with his ostentatiously placing of her hand on him, it was clear that she was the puppet master here. A suspicion bloomed in his mind and he looked down at the still smoking body. She had responded hardly at all to the danger of the escaped fighters. There was a predatory cast to her face. And it wasn't a mere trick of the shadows.

He gave her a slight smile and nodded his head in respect. "I am pleased that you had a gallant hero to defend you from the danger."
A twist of his lips made the sarcasm clear. Oh yes. Just like Spectra. He knew what Ascendancy would think. More 'ascendant' god's out playing, testing their powers on an unsuspecting world. Purposeless. Sowing chaos.

Commotion behind him resolved into security. They took the situation in hand, making sure the dead man was no longer a threat before beginnign to haul the body away. Malik merely put his hands behind his back and watched. Whoever was in charge of security would have to explain this to his superiors. Clientele of their money and power came here to be entertained and to make connections and deals without the presence of cameras. They did NOT come here to become prey themselves. Oh yes, heads would role for this little 'accident'. He pointedly did not look at the woman, though.

The lounging man was dismissed fairly quickly. "And you are?" said the head of security as he swung his head to Malik, his face clearly resolving in the shadows. The man's demeanor had already changed by Malik's response.

"Marcus DuBois"
he said quietly.

The man looked him over with some concern. "You weren't hurt, were you sir?" A Sigma being injured in his place would necessitate far more attention then the Almaz wanted.

"I am fine. The man's bark was far worse than his bite. My friend here-"
he gestured to the lounging man on the puppet strings- "Took care of him for you."
A slight smile appeared. "A terrible accident, their getting loose."
His smile deepened. "If it was an accident."


Malik couldn't be sure with the darkness of the place but he thought he saw the man's face go cold by the end. He knew he would have to answer for today's events. He would investigate. Oh yes he would. Very likely his life was on the line. Malik smiled to himself, very much aware of those seated at the table behind him. Chaos indeed.

"Is there anything else?"
At the man's response, Malik smiled pleasantly. "Good. One last thing."
He produced a card and leaned in to speak quietly. "Don't destroy the body. Contact me tomorrow."
The question in the man's eye was answered by the deadly seriousness in Malik's.

He was no doctor. But something was off. And Marcus craved information. You never knew what could be useful.

When the man left Malik turned back to the table. "An interesting night"
he said good naturedly.


Edited by Marcus DuBois, Jun 10 2015, 10:34 AM.

[Giovanni Cavelli]

Giovanni sat, watching the events unfold. The man in front of him was ever the diplomat. When the man gave his name to the security personnel, recognition glittered in their eyes. A well respected patron, or something else? A quick search on his wallet and an answer was found - the new sigma.

However, Marcus DuBois wasn't what he expected a higher up to be. His words dripped with sarcasm, and he hardly expected the Sigma to "protect" a stranger. He did understand politics somewhat though - very manipulative. That in itself he admired. The real truth behind Marcus' statement regarding the accidental nature of the scene wasn't lost to him, although he did doubt that it was accidental.

Giovanni found himself liking the sigma. Giovanni's methods were overt and unrefined as shown in his example with the rougarou. He sowed chaos, but it was flashy. Instead, Marcus did the same, but from shadows. It was an interesting way to do business. Subtle, yet effective. Not much unlike Oriena herself.

Giovanni looked at the Sigma across from him. Oriena had much to offer Giovanni, but she was a puppeteer controlling him. Giovanni knew this and allowed it, but this Marcus could be of use as well. Both had things to offer, but what did it matter. Returning to the underground city had reminded him of his true purpose: godhood. There were poor souls underneath the city that awaited their god's appearance.

"Indeed,"
Giovanni said in response to Marcus' comment. It was an interesting night.


Edited by Giovanni Cavelli, Jun 10 2015, 10:17 AM.

[Oriena]

The Sigma diffused the situation, but with the path smoothed to peace, Ori's interest began to dwindle. Still standing after ignoring Giovanni's offer of a seat, her posture shifted to reflect the subtle accusation of boredom. "I must be a lucky girl."
To the barb of Marcus' sarcasm, she offered the falseness of an overly sweet reply.

At least White had made a show of the opportunity she'd presented. She didn't seek him in the crowd, but she did scan lazily over the rest of the club. As with many of the things Ori did, there were layers to her intentions and goals. She wove amusement in with business for purely selfish reasons, but in the stir of her own chaos did not forget to pluck free the things she wanted. She found the face she sought, the breadcrumb trail to tonight's purpose now that other distractions had worn thin.

Her attention trailed back. Giovanni appeared to have drawn himself into introspection, his answers short, his gaze contemplative. He thought too much and acted too little. The rash murderer she'd first met had tonight proved himself tempered with more caution than she'd expected. He might have made a spectacle, but instead chose obscurity.

"I'll leave you gentlemen to it."
The disinterest was a snub, either softened or made more razor sharp by her parting smirk.

[Marcus DuBois]

Malik followed the woman's gaze but did not see what she was looking at. She hadn't sat down again either. If anything, her tone and body language said she was bored.

He laughed to himself. Chaos. Of course, she liked the chaos. Suspicions were settled in his mind. She shifted moods from playful and seductive to bored and dismissive in a heart beat. Always watching, a glittering spider above it all, watching prey enter her nest.

Irritating skittered across the bubble that somehow encased his mood. He was outside looking in, Malik, wreathed in black cloud, hiding behind Marcus' eyes. What if the prey had teeth? What if the prey decided to start cutting her web? Malik felt a frisson of anticipation. Marcus would want an excuse, but Malik felt no such compunction.

He looked to the man, catching his eye, and then back out into the crowd. "Look's like she's looking for a new game,"
he said casually. The words were unimportant as he thrust his hands into the black void and seized the power, felt it squirm under his grasp, and pulled it into him, subdued it. Even as the words left his lips, he felt the room light up as if a thousand suns suddenly shone. The smell of blood and sweat and leather and smoke and pheromones slamming into him like being hit by a train, by the force of life itself.

And somehow, more than he ever thought possible, Malik felt truly alive. In this Stygian underworld he felt peace and tranquility wash over him, far more deeply than ever before. He felt a presence here, as if this was the core of the universe. Encased in shadow and highlighted in along the edges, this was home. This was his domain.

Less than a second had passed and no doubt the man felt the power roiling from him. And in that moment, just as he turned his head back to them casually, Malik struck,. A single tendril of air snaked out like a viper and smacked the woman on the ass.

Mouth and eyes cool, Marcus watched them as if nothing had happened.

[Giovanni Cavelli]

Oriena turned to leave and Giovanni was left with the Sigma. He calculated, yet like his female companion, he was getting bored. Words of Ordine echoed in his head, sending him thoughts of relief that the woman had left. Caos just hissed in the back of his head at the nicer of his two companions.

Giovanni was just about to stand when he felt the power rise through Marcus. His eyes turned toward him and he smirked a bit, picking up his beer to finish it. He could have used the power for anything, except he sent it to smack Oriena on the ass.

Giovanni couldn't help but wonder how it would play out. Would she get pissed or filled with glee? Would she blame him or put the pieces together? It was an unexpected move on the sigma's part and in this game of chess, Giovanni wondered what role Marcus played.

[Oriena]

She turned. Of course she turned, as fluid as if she'd fully intended to offer a parting gesture, her steps still retreating, her smirk sharp. Retaliation ignited at the smack, flooding her full to the brim. She was quite purposefully uncircumspect, an unacknowledged queen. The electricity of it danced in her smile. Naturally suspicious, her gaze encompassed both men, but found no answers in either expression. It didn't matter. The reveller had come too late to the game; she'd offered plenty of chances.

Her gin flashed wicked. The glasses on their table smashed. Ori blew a parting kiss.

[Marcus DuBois]

The girl spun around and blew them a kiss- just as the glasses on their table crashed together. Malik laughed. He'd been right about her. And that made two. A pity she was leaving. Tonight- this place- had awakened something in him. He sat down in the empty chair, lounging as if on a throne. The cool liquid fanned across the table, platinum cubes sliding slightly on the now slick surface. The sharp tang of vodka was discernible. Vodka. He chuckled to himself. He had never really indulged in drink, certainly not to any great extent. Today, though, he could feel the slight effect it was having on him. Perhaps that contributed to his mood tonight. That, and this place.

He smiled as he watched her walk away, appreciating her retreating form. On a whim he seized the power again- his cover with the man next to him was blown, after all- an impulse, he knew, but he did not regret it. What good was power if you never had a little fun? Unless someone were next to him, they'd not know it was him anyway, just a menacing presence in this direction. His and the man next to him. A useful decoy.

The Force heightened his senses, the smell of the vodka on the table now much stronger. His nostrils flared and he contemplated ordering another but decided against it. He'd had enough. He crossed his leg over the other and looked at him. "You might as well sit. I doubt she'll return."
He looked in her direction though now she was swallowed up by the crowd. She was probably off to find someone who'd dance to her tune. Or to cause more mischief. Malik shrugged, putting her out of his mind.

He looked at the man. Cleaned up though not rich by any means. The off the rack look of the suit said as much, standing out like a sore thumb in a place like this. Arrogant for all that, though yet with a tightness around the eyes that said something about him. Malik wasn't sure what it was, not yet. "I will guess that you were invited here. By her."
His words were flat but he let a smile play on his lips, as if hinting that he too would have simply followed a nice ass. There were plenty out there. Certainly none worth being on a leash for. Even those who had the power.

As he spoke, he idly sent thread of air and water to the spill, causing it to begin to spiral concentrically into a smaller and smaller pool, shards of glass tinkling as they came together or moved across the table, thickening as if being formed back into a glass. It was a simple enough weave. Finally, a "glass" stood there without walls, bits of glass visible through the reflection of the light in this dark place. Malik let it sit there and watched the man.

[Giovanni Cavelli]

Giovanni found himself bored. The excitement was gone and he found himself introspecting more. His thoughts drifted from one to another with no rhyme or reason. As he thought, Ordine's voice came to his mind, sighing with relief at the departure of Oriena. His eyes didn't move though and he thought of Jensen.

Jensen had treated him with more kindness than anyone he could remember - well Jensen and the priest from the hospital. Oriena had him on a leash - one he wasn't sure he could remove, but now for the first time in a long time, he was having doubts about his choices. Should he have killed his nephew?

Marcus spoke, but his words fell on deaf ears. Giovanni was more interested in his thoughts than the sigma's words. Jensen had opened up his home without a second thought, fully knowing that Giovanni had been a thief. On top of that, he had given the best accommodations to Giovanni, taking only a cot for himself. Ordine hummed in the back of his mind and Caos was unusually quiet. Giovanni was beginning to learn that this meant Caos was planning something, but Giovanni had no idea what.

The familiar feeling of a man embracing power filled the room as Marcus did his little parlor trick. Giovanni turned to face him. "What did you say?"
Giovanni asked, not really paying attention to the bottle in front of him.