In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: MadPanda on 22-04-2010, 02:04:06</h2>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>22-04-2010, 02:04:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fitz sat outside a small cafe along the Ramble and watched the foot traffic wash this way and that across the Plaza of Flowers.&nbsp; Enjoying the mid-morning sun and his mint tea (which he suspected the barista had jumped even without his asking), he took a moment to think over the past week...<br><br>Cairo had been the end of the line.&nbsp; He'd met an old 'friend' in the business at a run-down little junk-pile of a cabaret, and Yusuf had been sweating bullets.&nbsp; That alone was a bad sign, and so when the Lebanese Maronite (at least, that's what Fitz <em>thought</em> Yusuf had been) had suddenly stiffened and spoken one word ("run!") Fitz had dashed out the back, ignoring the proprietor's shrill curses naming him the offspring of a dog and a Zionist camel.<br><br>Twenty paces down the back alley, junk shop, contact, and angry owner were gone in a blaze of glory that pushed Fitz to the ground and rolled him about like a forgotten chew toy.&nbsp; Suicide bomber?&nbsp; Maybe so.&nbsp; It was remotely possible that Yusuf had warned him of impending mortal danger and then not gotten out of the way himself.&nbsp; After that, though, Fitz found a pattern.<br><br>His hotel had been under lockdown, with most of Cairo's Finest hanging around in the lobby, along with a few other people Fitz knew all too well and didn't want to see right that moment!&nbsp; Turning on his heel, he made himself scarce, slipping around the interested policemen examining the papers of innocent bystanders.&nbsp; His first safe house had been blown, and the second: nothing left but smoking rubble and the bleeding detritus of poor souls who hadn't gotten clear.&nbsp; The bolt hole on the Street of Jackals had been intact, though, and so he'd grabbed the 'scram' bag and done just that.&nbsp; Not even bothering with the airport, he'd borrowed a taxi (the cabbie would wake up sooner or later, probably) and driven like Andretti to the port at Alexandria.&nbsp; Lucky for him, there'd been a ship heading out this way with a captain who wasn't too picky about where his money had been.<br><br>Yesterday he'd landed at the port city of Skylla, due north of this charming little town called The Edge.&nbsp; A few more quick purchases and a shower, and he'd felt like a new man.&nbsp; Unfortunately, this meant that he was stuck in the middle of the weirdest place on Earth, floundering about for his next move.&nbsp; He wasn't about to call this one in--some of those specialists had been in-house talent!&nbsp; Which probably meant that he was in a world of hurt.&nbsp; His boss didn't like loose ends.<br><br>Correction: his boss didn't suffer loose ends to live this long.&nbsp; Fitz frowned, biting his lower lip in nervousness: old Azzie usually let his underlings know they were a detriment to the company by killing them outright!&nbsp; Yet somehow he'd become renegade without seeing the memo.&nbsp; Without anyone seeing the memo, in fact, or the death squads would already have been all over him like porn on the internet.<br><br>And Azzie had his heart, which meant that the old bastard knew where he was and could send them in at any time.&nbsp; Not a comforting thought at all.<br><br>Holding up his glass to summon a refill (and theoretically ogling the pretty young waitress, who couldn't have been a day over fifteen), Fitz shivered in spite of the growing heat.&nbsp; The proper thing to do was to keep low, make no waves, flash no mojo, and hope that nobody would think highly enough of Fitz to need him sputched.&nbsp; That meant avoiding the Topsiders at all costs as well...not too difficult on <em>this</em> island, but you never knew.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>16-09-2010, 07:04:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His drink came back with a smile too young to be the alluring curl it was trying to be. The waitress was as blunt as she was young; trying too hard, she shrank to little more than uninteresting curves and vapid gestures. Innocent to be sure and unaware of the sort of man Fritz was. She might never run into someone like him again either. Or at least, never in a way she'd realize. Her smile vanished when she did, drawn away by the only power that held sway in the cafe. Only a moment later, a hip clad in only a sarong and a drumming fingers slid into view. Slender and toned in all the right ways, there was only one word to describe the torso in the corner of his eye: heavenly. And that could mean only one thing.<br><br>"Well if it isn't Fitz."<br><br>The words were soaked in unspoken things. Behind those unspoken things lay even more unspoken things; debts and promises not yet cashed in and deadly things ordinary people would not do. The voice, as it ever was, was steel and silk, anger and something else. The fingers drummed for a moment longer before coming to lean against the table in front of him. With it followed the rest of the torso and the stunning face atop, twisting to look at him with daggers for eyes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>16-09-2010, 17:30:14</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				For a long moment, Fitz kept his gaze on the waitress, letting his mind linger over all the deliciously wicked thoughts that her nubile not-quite-old-enough body brought to mind (there had been days, oh yes, where she would have been considered old enough!&nbsp; Old enough indeed, oh yes) before he reluctantly acknowledged the other presence.<br><br>He slipped his sunglasses back on before turning to give her a most insincere smile of not-quite-greeting.<br><br>"The one and only," he said, his voice carrying that smooth, oily self-confidence that had served so well before.&nbsp; "Fancy running into you in a place like this!&nbsp; Pleasure or business?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>17-09-2010, 07:20:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Of course, this was no waitress. Instead, it was that raven-haired woman who had been far too much trouble to be playing for the company she did. Time had done little beyond remind Fitz that nubile was not a thing reserved solely for the young. Close enough to see that she had no birthmarks on her chest, the woman placed the daintiest of kisses upon his forehead with a long-ago trickle of fingertips tracing his jaw.<br><br>"That's for Montreal," The words lingered upon what little space was between him and her. Trouble indeed she'd been and time had not changed that either. The slap across his face was merely to punctuate the silence leftover from many years ago. "And that's for London!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>17-09-2010, 07:23:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The kiss pinned him just long enough for the slap to land, and as Fitz recovered, he spoke the first thing that came to mind:<br><br>"Which time in London, exactly?&nbsp; Although I haven't bothered visiting since, oh, Eighteen Ninety-one or so.&nbsp; Got tired of the cooking."<br><br>He managed a wan smile.<br><br>"So.&nbsp; Here you are, and here I am, and if you don't mind it I'd kind of like to just finish my drink before you go all official on me.&nbsp; What do you say, babe?&nbsp; For old time's sake and all?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 05:44:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Fine. For old time's sake," She said with a defiant toss of her raven-dark hair. That was always one of odd things about those meeting Ceecee for the first time. For someone from the upstairs floors, she hardly looked the normal part. The usual assumption - and for good reason, always to her chagrin - was a sunny blonde with a golden smile with simple white clothing that was more elegant than anything else no matter how much it showed. But for her, she was more practical. She did spend enough time with people outside the company to need to be a little more discreet than that.<br><br>Discretion. One little word. She wondered if Fitz even remembered how that one little word had drawn them together and gotten them into all sorts of trouble. Sunlight sparkled off an anklet as she crossed endless legs, taking the seat oppose from Fitz with her hair falling to frame the shadow between her breasts and the powder blue of her bikini top. Hardly a distraction from the simmering furrow upon her brow. "You honestly don't remember me, do you Fitz? Or should I call you Patrick? Or whatever name you're going by these days."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 05:15:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You always call me Fitz," he replied, frowning.&nbsp; "Not that I really mean to step on any toes while I'm here.&nbsp; I'd love even more to get out of your hair and back off the radar, if I could ask one teensy weensy little itty-bitty favor?"<br><br>He holds his glass up.<br><br>"And a refill?"<br><br>He leaned back, slowly relaxing as he went with his gut and cut right to the chase.<br><br>"See, I'd appreciate it, really appreciate it, if you'd sort of leave me out of any reports you send back to the home office.&nbsp; I have a lot on my plate right now, and the last thing I need on top of all that is to mix it up with one of Michael's finest.&nbsp; I mean, I'm even going to be to busy to be a bad boy..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>02-10-2010, 04:00:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Hmph." She tucked a lock of hair behind an ear at the notion that she could simply send a message up the hierarchy. Michael and her had always a choice relationship held together mostly by duct tape and common agendas. He tolerated her, most of the time. He let her fly under his radar as long as she kept out of the majors. "He and I are... separated by an ocean at the moment. He not one for reading reports from me at the moment."<br><br>"The question is, Fitz, why should I be helping you. I know we had our good times..." She plucked an ice cube from his empty glass and rolled it on to her tongue. "When you disappeared, I felt like you were more about chasing your business. You didn't exactly earn brownie points."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>03-10-2010, 06:18:22</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>When you're an infernal, you get used to hearing a lot of euphamisms in mixed company.&nbsp; 'When you disappeared' is one of the nicest ones I've ever encountered, although my personal favorite is 'when you were outsourced'.&nbsp; In short, it's a way of referring to the Big Split without being judgmental...<br><br>And if that surprises you, you've been listening to too much fire-and-brimstone rhetoric.&nbsp; We're all angels.&nbsp; Some of us just work for a guy with a bad rep.</strong><br><br>Fitz grimaced.<br><br>"You probably shouldn't help me.&nbsp; Against your job description and all.&nbsp; But all I really want to do is drop off everybody's radar for a while.&nbsp; Fast."<br><br>He looked at his drink, frowning sadly at the slowly melting ice cubes.<br><br>"You may recall I was never one of the really bad ones.&nbsp; Got traded by default...which wasn't helped by Dominic's attitude.&nbsp; The Inquisition wasn't what I call fun and games."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>07-10-2010, 08:54:40</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Tsk! Oh you know better than that," Ceecee chided with a toss of her hand, "We have no job description. We have no job. That would defeat the whole point of people like you and me. Convenient if not controllable. That's why we're good."<br><br>She plucked an ice cube from Fitz drink. The ice sliver danced along the rim of the glass before tip-toeing along his arm. The woman followed, pulled to her feet and across the small round table as the ice cube perched upon Fitz's lip. The ice cube melted between her fingers as a sultry whisper parted her own lips; she licked one, two fingers with slow suggestive purpose. The sort of private murmur shared between lover's in a public place. The sort of intimate closeness that allowed Fitz to see the pores on her breasts and the reflection in her glasses. <br><br>"You have company. Need an diversion?"<br><br>Indeed. Quite the seductive purr.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>07-10-2010, 17:21:52</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm certainly not going to say no."&nbsp; Fitz parted his lips in something like a playful grin, an expression that might fool most onlookers into thinking that he was having the time of his life.&nbsp; "Who's today's special friend?"<br><br>He paused.<br><br>"More importantly, yours or theirs?&nbsp; I'm off the team."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>07-10-2010, 20:59:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I don't know but the two of them are quite interested in you. I'd be jealous at all the attention you're getting. Silver coupe. Don't scratch it."<br><br>The two were lovers perhaps. The familiar brush of hand against his chest concealed the car keys being slipped in to his breast pocket. And then, as all summertime flings, the coming of winter and the reality of winter struck cold. If there were a louder sound than the slap that landed across Fitz face, you couldn't tell with the bawling lament that followed.<br><br>"Oh how could you! You cad!" She shouted at his face. What was left of his drink soon followed. Diversions, unlike distractions, are like the misdirection in a magician's trick. You want people to pay attention. You want their eyes and ears focused on one hand while the other hand does the trick. In the booming beach business that sustained Skylla, most of what drew people here were the women and men looking for a tropical paradise. Of course, that made bad breakups a common enough occurrence. Just enough to get the tourists' attention but not enough of a commotion for the locals to call the cops.<br><br>The bawling came like a monsoon as Ceecee stormed off towards the two men that had been very intently not looking at Fitz. When she was near, she stumbled and fell into across their laps. No sooner had she done so then she stood up, the waterworks coming heavier now as she started to scream at them. "Why you! Taking advantage of a poor brokenhearted women! Don't you dare deny you didn't just touch me there!" <br><br>A distressed local, on the other hand, was enough to get the locals out of their set and starting towards the two men. The more they shouted and struggled, the more the locals shouted back and surrounded them further.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>07-10-2010, 21:56:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Render unto Ceasar, okay?"&nbsp; He winked...then winced as she smacked him and threw his drink in his face.&nbsp; Taking her hint and the keys, he went quietly out the back way...not hurrying, not acting like a cad fleeing an awful scene, just another fellow heading back to his hotel after lunch.&nbsp; Once out the door, he allowed himself a smile at the thought of Ceecee's theatrics.<br><br>He found the coupe, slid behind the wheel, turned the ignition and admired the way the engine purred for a moment before sliding out into traffic and heading back to the Edge.&nbsp; Keeping an eye out for any unfortunate tagalongs in the rear view mirror, he zipped around a lumbering jitney and nearly clipped a moped going the wrong way...<br><br>Not long after, he pulled the car into the parking lot of Cesar's Hotel in Sunken and tossed an extra twenty to the parking attendant.&nbsp; Then he strolled into the bar on the ground floor, intent on making up for lost ground.&nbsp; He was <em>not</em> surprised to find a watcher here: too many wayward souls to track, too few personnel.&nbsp; So of course there was a Monitor on duty.&nbsp; But he enjoyed the brief expression of shock and delicious hint of fear that passed over the other's face, because Fitz recognized the other angel.<br><br><strong>Another thing you get used to is running into old and familiar faces.&nbsp; It goes with the territory--we were all one big happy family once, and so sooner or later you bump into people who know you and owe you.&nbsp; Much as upper management likes to pretend it doesn't happen, down in the trenches the grunts are prone to little acts of mutual accomodation.</strong><br><br>"Scram for a bit," Fitz told him, grinning easily.&nbsp; "I'm not here on business and I'm not about to ruin anyone's vacation."<br><br>"You...!"<br><br>"Yeah.&nbsp; Me.&nbsp; And you know what?&nbsp; It'd be better for this wayward flock if you forgot you saw me."<br><br>The Celestial looked conflicted for a moment, his current mortal guise almost curling up into a little ball as he lowered his copy of Al Amarja Today and readjusted his broken sunglasses.<br><br>"That bad?"<br><br>"Worse.&nbsp; I got pink-slipped."<br><br>"Oh.&nbsp; Right.&nbsp; I can give you an hour...long enough to get lunch."<br><br>"Good enough.&nbsp; Thanks.&nbsp; I'll be out of here by then, I hope."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>12-10-2010, 06:42:11</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Ceecee was reading the latest issue of Eye Spy Magazine, her endless legs crossed impatiently across the bars lounging sofa. Somewhere along the way she'd changed from her bikini and sarong to a more casual sun dress. The sunglasses remained, though, perched below the bun she'd made of her dark tresses. She licked her thumb and flipped pages before motioning to a waiter.<br><br>"I found these keys on the floor. And may I get a soda, no ice, please? Thank you, dear."<br><br>The keys, of course, belonged to some poor schmuck who would have to spend all of a day with the police before they found his car half-way across the city, undamaged and with a few extra miles. A joyride, they'd call it, and the matter forgotten. You could always tell when people like them were in town; car theft went up as did cellphone purchases. Funny that.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>12-10-2010, 07:00:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fitz crosses the room and takes a seat beside her.<br><br>"Borrowing?&nbsp; Isn't that a little postmodern of you?&nbsp; Never mind."&nbsp; He took a deep breath.&nbsp; "So.&nbsp; Uhm.&nbsp; Thanks.&nbsp; Good diversion.&nbsp; I trust you had no trouble getting out it?"<br><br>He turned to look at her, lowering his sunglasses.<br><br>"More importantly, do you have any idea who those guys were?&nbsp; And...what do you want me to do to repay your kindness?"&nbsp; He almost flinches at that last word.&nbsp; "Considering how hot it's going to get around here when word gets out that I'm <em>depravati non grata</em> downstairs."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>12-10-2010, 07:31:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Fitz, Fitz, Fitz," She chided with a sideways glance at the only slightly ruffled gentleman sitting beside her head, "If this partnership is going to work, you're just going to have to trust that I expect... other things from you."<br><br>Straightening up in the seat, Ceecee tossed the magazine on the coffee table. She tried for a moment to relax and simply enjoy the quiet moment. Eventually, Fitz's rather serious suit look won out. He'd always seemed like that to her. Ever the proper company man ready to jump at the call. Or something like that.<br><br>"Oh fine, Fitz, you can be so tense, you know that?"<br><br>Pulling out a leather wallet from her purse, Ceecee tossed it over her shoulder into Fitz's lap. Not before pulling out a credit card and dropping it on the tray of the returning waiter. "Courtesy of our long lost friends. Anything interesting other than the hundred dollars I will be owing him?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>12-10-2010, 19:15:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You do remember who I used to work for, right?"<br><br>Fitz picked up the wallet and rummaged through it...<br><br><strong>There's the catch.&nbsp; I worked for Asmodeus, and the thing about ol' Azzie is that he never, ever suffers a disloyal pawn to live.&nbsp; Ever.&nbsp; He usually destroys factors that only <em>might</em> be considering something disloyal, sometimes before they consciously recognize what they were thinking.&nbsp; Far's I know, I'm the longest lived renegade from his team in history...by six and a half days.</strong><br><br>"Here we go.&nbsp; Oh."&nbsp; He held up one of the cards.&nbsp; "Order of Saint Leopold.&nbsp; Remember them?&nbsp; Inquisition."&nbsp; He paused.&nbsp; "That means Dominic the Self-righteous.&nbsp; And his buddy here is from something called Swords of the Savior's Truth, based in Ignorance and Loathing, Kansas.&nbsp; Great.&nbsp; Yours or ours?&nbsp; I can never keep those snake-handlers straight."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>16-10-2010, 07:10:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"It's all Greek to me," She replied with a shrug and a sip of her drink. At some point, Ceecee stopped keeping track of who was whom and where they were in the system of alphabet soup. People fell, people rose, and half the time, organizations came and went because someone needed a fake acronym for some reason.&nbsp; Her own preference was just to go with the people doing what she agreed with and try not to hold too many grudges. Unless they really pissed her off. Then she'd prefer to just shoot them.<br><br>"By the standard issue suits they were wearing, I would say they were a little more straight-laced than you or I."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>16-10-2010, 19:27:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Or they wanted us to think so.&nbsp; Problem is, the SST is, if I remember correctly, about as anti-Catholic as they come.&nbsp; So why'd one of these pukes decide to work with an Inquisitor?"<br><br>He looked crestfallen for a moment.<br><br>"Oh.&nbsp; Right.&nbsp; Word's probably already out.&nbsp; Hey, Ceece, do you have anywhere on this crummy island where a guy under the gun could hole up for a little while?"<br><br><strong>Yeah.&nbsp; The SST are Dom's kind of Protestant.&nbsp; That's why I had to ask.&nbsp; It's too simple to look at these guys, see what rabid assholes they are, and assume that they're on Hell's side.&nbsp; And you can't assume that just because they have one motherfucking major mad-on about Satan that they serve Heaven.&nbsp; Mortals are like that in general, which is why I'm normally fond of them.&nbsp; When they aren't trying to kill me, anyway.</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>18-10-2010, 01:40:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman eyed Fitz for a moment. He was a hot property deserving of a special place. Were she in his position, she'd be expecting trouble on a weekly basis with that extra special attention in winter for the yearly report. On the other hand, playing interference was one thing. Setting Fitz up with a safehouse was jumping into his particular brand of trouble feet first in a straitjacket. Her own dealings would certainly end up getting looked at. Still... it was Fitz.<br><br>"I have just the place, I think..."<br><br>-----<br><br>Somewhere across the city, Ceecee gave the tour of the street. On one side was a modest church; barely a spire or towering dome, this was as much home as it was house of prayer. On the other side, nondescript buildings and businesses among which, at least according to her, was an underground burlesque club with a demonic theme. She found a certain sort of humour standing between the two and having Fitz stay in the safehouse here.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>18-10-2010, 05:44:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fitz managed a tight, uncomfortable smile.<br><br>"Thanks..."<br><br>++++<br><br>"...I think."<br><br>He eyed her neighborhood nervously, but whether it was the church or the club that bothered him more was hard to tell.<br><br>"Nice place you have here.&nbsp; And while it isn't my first choice of environments...that'll probably save my bacon.&nbsp; So, uh, thanks.&nbsp; Really."&nbsp; He headed for the kitchen.&nbsp; "Got any beer?&nbsp; I'm going to need a few."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>20-10-2010, 03:46:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"No, just yogurt. Food of champions."<br><br>The rundown place was a stark contrast from the clean and well-kept Fitz. Fitz was as modern as you could get - the latest fashions, the latest toys, the latest info. A rusted old studio with appliances from the fifties was hardly a match for him. The logo on the refrigerator was that of a company long since bankrupted and the design was so old, it was in the retro-style popular nowadays.<br><br>"I know it's not what you're use to with your expense accounts and company backing, but I can get you the basics. There's probably a few forgotten shell companies we can raid for funds."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>20-10-2010, 05:02:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				After a moment of searching, Fitz found the expletive perfectly suited to the news that there was yogurt but not beer:<br><br>"Awww, nuts."<br><br>He wandered about the place, hands tucked in his pockets.<br><br>"Not my usual lovely suite, but it'll have to do.&nbsp; Less chance of something untoward.&nbsp; And...well, I can always catch a quick jolt from the clients down the street if it gets bad.&nbsp; Place like that, who'll miss a little extra despair being sucked out of the aether?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>21-10-2010, 01:00:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm sure everyone will figure out where you are in due time. But I'd imagine that anything dramatic over little ol' Fitz will be a once a season deal. You are worthwhile alive, no matter what your bosses might think." She slipped her arm in his as they drifted from room to room. Only half of their attention was on their chatter. The other half was looking at the safehouse from twelve different angles; the same way a squirrel looks at a field and decides where to hide his winter supplies.<br><br>"So why Skylla?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>21-10-2010, 01:11:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"It's one of the few places I haven't been this century.&nbsp; And...well, I know this place is almost under the radar for everybody.&nbsp; Your team has more important things to do, and my team finds the locals a bit embarrassing.&nbsp; Especially the local Satanists."&nbsp; Fitz allowed himself to be led.<br><br>"About my ex-boss, though, you're wrong.&nbsp; This has nothing to do with my value.&nbsp; It's a matter of principle.&nbsp; Nobody screws Azzie and lives to tell about it.&nbsp; Nobody.&nbsp; Now, let's assume, for sake of argument, that he doesn't take me out.&nbsp; He loses face.&nbsp; And Asmodeus isn't an understanding loser."<br><br>He paused to lower the blinds on a window that let out on an alleyway, then changed his mind and opened them again, along with the window.&nbsp; After a moment's inspection of the outside wall, he seemed content with some unvoiced decision and left it open.<br><br>"So Michael, when he hears there's a renegade demon on the loose, is going to be after my ass on general principles.&nbsp; And every Duke, Prince, and Poo-bah with a bone to pick with Azzie...and that's all of them...will be on my case, if they can find me, either to curry favor by turning me over to the guy or to score a coup by taking me out."<br><br>He shrugs.<br><br>"I might as well start doing good deeds, for all it'd change.&nbsp; I mean, it wouldn't make my life any worse."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JadeCore</strong> on <strong>26-10-2010, 00:05:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Have you wondered -why- you're still alive after five days?" She asked with an almost-laugh upon her lips. "Though I'm not sure what's a more reassuring possibility for me - that someone has allowed you to fly solo because they have plans for you or the bosses have gotten lazy enough to let you fly so far under the radar."<br><br>They paused at another window. Long evening shadows grasped at mortals and concrete alike. Beneath the pulsing of dance music somewhere near, things only people like them would notice might have stirred. True to Fitz's word though, the clash here was almost muted. A slow and tranquil tribal beat easily mistaken for the rush of music through mortal souls. Few eyes were on them at the moment. Ceecee had to shiver a little and pressed closer to Fitz's warm body.<br><br>"Good deeds? What, do you expect some barely related acquaintance of an asset you once barely knew to call up and say 'So-and-so said that if they ever needed help, you were the one to go to'? You may be cute, Fitz, but you're hardly the model of a cherub."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Nomine: Scorched (JadeCore / MP)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MadPanda</strong> on <strong>26-10-2010, 04:12:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fitz mulled this over for a moment, but he didn't look any happier for it.<br><br>"Yeah, I've thought about it.&nbsp; And thought.&nbsp; And worried.&nbsp; And fretted.&nbsp; The only way Azzie would let something like this happen is if Lou Himself was the one behind it."&nbsp; He shivered.&nbsp; "And that's even less comforting than the thought that Azzie just plain goofed for once in his career."<br><br>He shrugged.<br><br>"Yeah?&nbsp; Well, I am who and what I am.&nbsp; But if you have any better ideas, by all means, I'm all ears."
			</dd>
		</dl>
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