The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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IamLEAM1983
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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Weasel settled back into his armchair. "Drove them away. Past tense."

He paused for a moment. "You wanna know why I do what I do? Both for my boys and Winter's? The Dragons are why. I know a lot of the scaly fuckers just wanna live out their lives honestly, I know a bunch of 'em don't hold us in contempt. I have precisely zero beefs with these types. I'm holdin' the fuckin' line for the mortal outfit for the same reason Fatass Doherty's holdin' the line for the mortal Joes and Janes who don't give two shits about how I get my contracts or finance political parties.

I'm holdin' the fuckin' like because of outfits like the Five Hundred. Do you honestly think their head honcho's declared himself? How do you think a bunch of Chinks and Japs manage to put their differences aside like that and strong-arm Russian Rednecks into being part of a sniffing operation? That shit takes a mind that's been lookin' at us skitter about for more than just a couple decades. That kind of outfit runs on blood that's thousands of years old. Dragon blood, most likely."

Another cigar pull. "See, folks here only see the cutesy and cuddly side of Oriental dragons. Them folks who look like Falkor, from The Neverending Story, more or less. Big, fuzzy, Zen as all shit, mellow as Hell and so fuckin' nice they'd make Mister Rogers pass for Charles Manson. The truth is, there's dragons from the East with as much greed in their veins as the Wyrm.

When New York was attacked by the Dutch to try and reclaim it, they ignored Rhode Island and Hope. Why? Because these were human interests, and they were focused on trade counters and fuckin' animal pelts. If dragons had been helmin' that attack, Hope would've eaten it. They want power. They want control, and I know enough to know a frickin' Nexus is just that. Pure power, pure control. Not 'cause they've got projects or goals - not like me, the rest o' the Commission or Shield. They just want it. No fuckin' reason why - it's in their blood."

His cigar-holding hand gave a little toss. "Fast-forward to now. All the Nexuses we know are occupied. There's no way for any practitioner to grow more powerful than your average Archmage, plugged into one source at a time. What you can do, though, is send an emissary. Send someone who'll take control in your name. Shen Long's pushed back Watatsumi a buncha times, but he's one guy. One old man with a bunch of hyper-motivated pseudo-martial artists and only one decent heavy-hitter.

As far as anyone knows, the city has one tippin' point. One line o' defence, because we ain't Hong Kong. Doherty doesn't want my cash? Well, sucks to be an average taxpayer, then - we can't fuckin' afford an Exosuit division. The only thing we can afford is conscripting registered supes and supernaturals into a sorta paralegal force. Shield."

He shrugged. "That puzzle's pretty obvious ta me. Take out Arch Holden, take out Bucky Wallace? You take out the team's thinking head and its heaviest goon. Past that, killin' gruffs and selkies, Drifters and humans with shitty telekinetic powers is gonna be child's play for the Five Hundred.

That, in the meantime, brings us full circle. Why does Shield want to hire you? You just answered your own fuckin' question, missy. Archie Holden is sizin' you up, considerin' you for a formal interview. Considering his line of work and considering what you can do, do you honestly think he woulda shown up in front of your doorstep, all tie and tails and tophat?"

Another grin and chuckle. "He needed to see. I think he still needs to, honestly. You've done what; escort some fuckin' mechanical loser to a Clank shop and kick the shit out of a fuckin' bear? That's bullshit, and he knows it. He's preppin' the stage, the same way he tested me by getting my ass in front of a Grand Jury. He doesn't give two shits that you've killed supernaturals with extreme prejudice, Jameson - he's a fuckin' spy. Do you honestly think his own slate's clean?"

He shook his head in amusement again. "Check out the Hiram Tamerlaine books. They're mostly required college bullshit for serial novel studies and crap like that, but they're pretty much a fictionalized account of the guy's life. You and I don't know a third of what he pulled down South, during Secession. If you think you'll honestly shock him with your sword and your excessive force and your being a slightly flaky Aug, think again. He's killed more guys in more diverse ways than my best fixer-uppers ever fuckin' will. Whatever you've done, whatever you can still do - you're what Shield needs in a good Special Response instructor. That's why you're being poked and prodded."
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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Mary had to wonder why Biggs was talking about dragons all of a sudden. Watatsumi was a dragon? The Five Hundred were running this shit with the clanks? Jesus fuck. There's that crossfire feeling again, she thought. "You're very well informed, sir," she remarked, glancing from side to side, one hand drifting across herself to make sure she still had her stuff.

Okay, so Shield needed a teacher. Maybe not a full-time one, she couldn't bring herself to commit that fully and they'd probably try and make her shape up if she was to really throw in with them, but she could definitely show them a thing or two.

"I believe we both have a common enemy in Watatsumi, then," she said. "If he's really making new moves in Hope it won't be long before he comes after Hardy & Jameson, and I won't allow that to happen. Whatever happens, Biggs, I think it's time I took a more active role in the Commission, and in the city as a whole." She smiled and stood up. "But that's a more involved meeting than either of us have time for, I believe. By your leave?" and she offered her hand again.
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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"Amscray," replied the rodent, his tone sympathetically dismissive. "Just one last thing, though. Easy on the long-term projects. Focus on Shield and your own business first. Make sure you can stand your own ground without the local steam-powered samurai saving your ass. I'm not speakin' in terms of technique - I mean resources. Make yourself a Plan B and always live knowin' you might hafta hightail out of Hope with your tail between your pretty legs.

Livin' longer ain't cowardice. In fact, it's pretty fuckin' good for business."

He stood up and buttoned his jacket again, pausing to shake her hand. "Put my office on speed-dial. I'll do the same. I can't risk putting you at the Table - not just yet, at least. If Shield's going to trust youse, now's not the time to start plyin' your own backroom deals with the rest of us. Get 'em to like you, put a good foot in the door, then we'll talk about securin' that foot of yours."

A corner of his lips went up. "Just - go easy on my high-tier guys, okay? They're expensive enough as it is, and Jimmy's got his own prepped and geared-up fangs willing to replay some Cranberries singles with some sawdust, some tallow and a pinch o' lye. He's got his sedate bunch like we all do, but he's also got hyper-motivated and life-challenged IRA veterans missin' a coupla brain cells."
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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"I might be stupid, but I'm not suicidal," Mary insisted breezily, chuckling. "I'm not looking for a seat, not yet anyway; I just work with Triads, I'm not Triad myself." With that she walked back to the elevator, wondering how in hell her life had gotten so complicated so fast.

Back at the bottom, she approached the secretary again. "Um," she said, not sure what she had to do. "I'm done...?"
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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Silve merely nodded her head. "So it seems."

The Oath's presence very briefly reaffirmed itself to her senses - only so long as to depart her entirely, like dead weight being taken off her shoulders.

"See?" said the blue-haired secretary. "Oaths aren't that bad. That's the main part of my job, day in and day out. Activate and remove the Non-Aggression Pact. Especially now that there's new factions vying for control."
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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"New factions?" Mary replied, rolling her shoulders a bit as the Oath was removed. "You mean the Serbians?" Briefly she wondered why it was always okay to blame Eastern Europe, no matter what the problem was. But she didn't think too hard about it.
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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Silve shrugged lightly. "You aren't a Mage - you're strictly human. Well - augmented. Somewhat."

She gave Mary a strange look, as if she could see more of the woman in front of her than the simple physique. "Your connection with the World's Breath is lessened. You wouldn't have picked up what others have. The stirrings of power across the lines. When a Nexus stirs and its guardian awakens, others always take notice. These are the new factions I'm referring to."

She paused. "The ley lines whisper in the South and the East. Something's coming. I'm afraid you'd be glad if, whatever that is, it was as simple to adapt to as mortal Serbians with firearms."
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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"I'm sure I would," Mary replied archly, put off by Silve's odd stare. "You have a good day, ma'am." She walked across the hall and back outside, heading right for her bike and throwing a leg over it. She'd head back to her condo to change, then decide where to go next. Of course, given her luck today something would happen on the way over, or there'd be messages on her phone or, heaven forbid, people would be waiting for her.

Either way she was glad to put Buck Tower behind her. "Fucking men and their stupid phallic symbols," she said to herself as she roared off.
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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Heading Southwest and back home didn't trigger much in the way of adventure. The streets were calm, nobody followed her (or nobody she could identify), and the way to her basement apartment was clear. Arriving there, she'd find the door undisturbed and as safely locked as she'd left it. The same could be said of her apartment proper. Everything was as she'd left it.

Everything, except for a new smell.

It wasn't entirely unpleasant. A little musty and warm, definitely coming from a warm liquid. Coffee? No, that couldn't be it. She'd started her day just as anyone else would - by checking to see if her coffee maker was properly turned off. The machine hadn't gone off and there wasn't any burnt brew in the pot. Tea?

If it was tea, it wasn't from one of her usual brands - and her teapots were all stored in the same place as usual.

With nothing in the sink and nothing in the dishwasher, where could that smell be coming from?
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Re: The Razorgirl's Five Hundred Suitors

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Mary was glad of the relatively quiet ride, and looked forward to a few minutes' downtime before heading out again. Change clothes, brew up a cup of tea or two, check her stash, maybe see if anyone had called...

Everything was just fine until she stepped inside, locked the door behind her, and took that first relaxing breath. It wasn't nearly as relaxing as she'd hoped. Goddammit, she thought, trying to quell the rising tide of panic, in my house, in my fucking house! Obsessively she reached for the English sidelock shotgun stashed in the umbrella stand by the front door, which was still loaded; the weight of the antique gun in her hand was reassuring, and she took a second to calm down and breathe before searching her house. Whoever was in there, and she had to assume someone was, would already know she'd come back; she couldn't relax until she knew everything was still safe.

The kitchen was the first place to check, as that was where all the tea things were and that was definitely a tea smell. But it was untouched! The sink and washer were still empty, the stove was clear, what in God's good name was going on?! "Come out where I can see you, lan yeung!" she shouted, whirling around to stalk through the rest of the place, trigger finger twitching eagerly on the gun in her hands.
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