May I have this dance?

A.K.A Chapter 16

Jeck walked out of the casino the arena was hidden underneath. He had just received the payment for the cage fights.

‘Man, I thought that underground fighters made some serious cash. I can’t believe comics mislead me like that.’

Quake was waiting for him at the little café they got pancakes. Jeck was troubled. The money they got was plentiful, but not enough for his needs. Quake was content to eat pancakes all day, but what child isn’t okay with stuffing their face with sugar, day in and day out? No, he needed steel to replace his bodies stores of iron, he was a growing boy after all. Proper nutrition is important.

Lastly, he needed money to replace the iron girder he stole from one of the construction sites on the far side of the city. Stealing left a bad taste in his mouth. Ghost snorted.

‘And killing people for money doesn’t?’

He rolled his eyes at the collective consciousness hidden in his mind. He also resisted the urge to make a Metal Gear refere-

Lightning struck, leaving a scorch mark in the pavement. He blinked in surprise, and it was gone. A beat passed as he tried to parse out what just happened, then he shrugged his shoulders.

‘As long as they aren’t children or simple folk, then I’m fine with it. Besides, target is a business man. I’d be more surprised if he didn’t deserve it.’

Back in the lobby, some rich-looking business man approached him. The slimy git had taken notice of his ability to turn intangible during his fight with a pair of twins, and offered him money to sneak into a meeting or something.

“Blah blah blah kill, blah blah time, blah blah location.”

Honestly, he wasn’t paying very much attention. It wasn’t like he hadn’t assassinated other people before. Very often people would proclaim their desire to murder him on the spot, so he would use his [Stealth] vanish from their perception, then stab them in the back. He figured that he was saving some other poor sap from them this way.

The rest of the day passed quickly as he and Quake meandered around the city, taking in the sights. There weren’t a lot of people about. The only interesting thing that happened was a police officer teleporting onto the rooftop they were standing on. He told them to get off because it was “unsafe” or something dumb like that, granted, the building was upside down and floating very far off the ground, but he still felt like the officer was exaggerating. He also borrowed (Read: stole) a suit for the meeting. That was what all assassins wore, right?

***

Soon after Quake fell asleep, Jeck made his move. Leaving his cloak behind, he gently lowered Quakes head off his leg and leapt off into the night. He had hidden the suit inside non-existence, along with the rest of his clothes. A quick thought and it materialized, replacing his normal clothes entirely

The building was similar to the rest of Dello-Whorl’s skyscrapers. Needlessly big and lit up like a Christmas tree.

Landing around the corner from the entrance, he adjusted his suit and tie and rolled up the sleeve on his left arm. He casually walked towards the entrance where two mean looking bouncers were guarding the doors.

Neither of them moved a muscle, or even acknowledged his presence as he strolled between them. A smug smile crossed his face. Making his way up to the balcony that circled the room, he surveyed the floor in front of him. When he was told that he was interrupting a meeting, he was expecting more paperwork, and men in suits angrily pointing at said paperwork, not a ball. Waiters walked to and fro across the dance floor, bringing men in tuxedos and women in dresses brightly colored drinks.

Except one.

‘Wow.’

A woman in a suit, the only one in a suit, or what looked like a suit, which means she’s special, and not because she’s gorgeous. I mean, she is, but that’s not what catches his attention.

Okay, it’s mostly what catches his attention, but the rest is the sheer power that radiates off of her.

‘She must be experienced. Without a doubt she’s the strongest person in the city, and I couldn’t even feel it until I walked into the room.’

She’s standing off to the side of the room, behind a table filled with men spitballing business ventures at each other. She gazes wistfully out at the dance floor and sighs, then her head snaps up and stares right at him.

Which shouldn’t be possible. Not when he’s actively using [Stealth].

‘Hmmm, that’s a tad concerning, but I’m way too curious to back out now.’

He gave her a wink, and smirked when she snorted humorlessly at him.

The men and women tittered around the dance floor as he smoothly wove his way in between them, occasionally stopping to dance with the occasional lady. While he swung around, he reached out with his mind, and was quite surprised to see that their minds were significantly tougher to enter than he expected.

‘It makes sense, I suppose,’ He thought to himself, letting his temporary partner be swept off by someone else. ‘These people are pretty powerful, economically speaking. I can’t see them really training themselves, maybe they’ve got mental bodyguards. Is that a thing? It’d be cool if it was.’

Louini was harder to find than he thought, but he did eventually. He thought that ‘high-society rich-people’ gossiping was exaggerated by the media, but it was actually proving pretty accurate.

He glanced over at Louini. The man was short, Quake would almost be taller than him, wearing a white dress shirt, black suit pants and a pair of suspenders over his shoulders. Sitting at the corner of a long rectangular table with no one at the head, sipping on one of those fancy glasses that mom used to have full of red wine. His face was covered in a light blush.

‘Perfect.’

A small vial full of blood was slipped into his hand from inside his sleeve. The pinkish liquid inside glinted menacingly under the bright white lights of the banquet.

‘Never thought I’d be using blood as an instrument of assassination, at least it’s home grown.’

He looked at the tip of his flesh hand, where the small prick he had made before he left had vanished. Poisonous blood is not something Wraiths have naturally, this was the result of a fight he had been in that never really went away.

Louini turned to speak to the man behind him. Jeck smoothly strode over to the table and reached out to pour the vial into the cup.

His eyes widened in surprise as he realized that the woman who’d noticed him earlier was now two steps away from him. Deft finger tips quickly tossed the blood back up his sleeve, where it was sent to the void.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She demanded, grabbing his wrist.

‘Crap, who is she, his bodyguard? Now that she’s gotten their attention, the job is over.’ He rapidly thought of a few new plans for offing Louini, but they were either messier than he’d like, or too much effort for his liking.

He gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. ‘Eh, I wasn’t really that interested in the job.’

His eyes landed on the woman, the first person to ever see through his stealth skills.

‘You, on the other hand, are very interesting.’

Slipping his wrist out and taking her hand in his, he swiftly knelt down on one knee. He smoothed his feature into that of an earnest man.

“I saw your beauty from across the room, and I came to ask if you would do this poor man the honor of dancing with him?”

He brought her hand to his face and gently kissed her knuckles.

The whole table turned and looked at them in shock. The woman in front him stood with her mouth agape. Small dregs of energy flowed to her face. Was she angry or embarrassed? Hopefully both. “You- “

Louini cut her off with a bark of laughter. “Picked up an admirer, did you? Go on then. Have fun.”

The rest of the table, filled with men and women, both with great influence, and under it, all giggled and laughed amongst themselves.

The woman turned irate. “But sir!”

Louini held up a hand and looked away. “I’m not paying you to disobey me, Flowers. Go dance.”

The hand he held nearly broke his fingers as it squeezed in frustration and he hid a wince. She quickly donned one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen.

“Yes sir.” She ground out through grit teeth. She all but dragged him onto the floor.

Now that they were hidden amongst the crowd, he allowed his victorious grin to slip onto his face, a stark contrast to her fierce scowl.

‘Man, if looks could kill.’

Maybe a complement would break the ice?

“Flowers? That’s a pretty name, it suits you.”

Her scowl grew and she growled at him threateningly.

His grin grew wider.

‘Hah! That’s adorable.’

“Y’know, I get the feeling that you’re not very happy with me.”

“Gosh,” She hissed sarcastically, grabbing his hands harder than was strictly necessary. “I wonder how you got that impression.”

A sad sigh escaped his lips and he put on his best ‘kicked puppy’ face. “Oh, I’m just sensing a little hostility from you.”

‘Little’ in the same way that a nuke was a ‘little’ explosion.

“Cut the act, who sent you? Who are you?” She glared fiercely at him.

Dropping his façade, he let his real emotions play out on his face. An easygoing smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled her along to the beat of whatever classical song was playing.

“I’ll answer your questions if you answer a few of mine.”

Her eyes bore into his before she spat out a terse “Fine.”

“Great, let’s see, my name is Jeck, and as for who sent me…I’m not really sure. I wasn’t really listening.”

“Bullshit.” She spat.

“It’s true!” Jeck whined. “He was some slimy dude at the underground cage fights, he saw me fighting and approached me after. I can’t really tell you more than that.”

“You have to be the worst assassin I’ve ever caught.”

He gave her an inquisitive look. “About that, how did you catch me? An Aspect?”

She nodded as they spun around. “Yep, you have an Aspect that lets you hide your presence from others.”

A statement, not an accusation.

He nodded in agreement. He didn’t really have anything to hide, so why lie when she already knew?

“[Stealth].”

“Ah, I have [Find].”

Jeck nodded his head in understanding.

“No wonder you were able to spot me so easily. I almost had a heart attack when you looked at me.”

As they danced, Jeck noticed something. He looked down at her feet. The movements were off, or rather, they were so on point that it was off-putting. Her whole body seemed to flow with an inhuman grace. He kept his gaze focused downwards, completely enraptured, until she coughed conspicuously.

“Something wrong?”

He was really glad most of his face was missing, otherwise his cheeks would be tinged red.

“Er..nothing, just admiring your dancing skills. You’re very graceful, do you do this often?”

“You mean dancing with people who try to kill my clients or just dancing in general?”

A snort escaped him. So she did have a sense of humor!

“The latter, you looked sad you couldn’t get onto the dance floor earlier.”

She shrugged. “It’s a hobby, I guess. I take classes whenever I have some free time.”

“Well, they’re certainly paying off.”

They waltzed and talked for another hour before Jeck decided it was time to leave.

Pulling her in close, he murmured. “Well, this has been fun, my dear, but I believe it’s time I take my leave.”

Her grip on his hands was like iron. She looked up at him and smirked challengingly.

“Oh? I don’t recall giving you permission to leave, not after trying to kill my client.”

“Well, that’s because- ” He wraithed his hands out of her grip, leaving her standing there as her hands grasped uselessly at his. “I don’t need it. Thank you for the dance, Miss Flowers.”

She looked at her empty hands, then around the room. ‘Who was I dancing wi-‘ Her [Find] kicked in, automatically responding to her desires. ‘That sonnuva bitch!’

She glared across the room at Jeck, who gave her a cheeky wink as he disappeared through the hardwood floor.

***

High above the clouds of Nuvalt, the Spel’s main platform stretched out into space. It was wide enough to stretch out over the land below, enough for the government to need to build artificial stars to light the world. A plate was what came to mind when most people looked at it. Round, thin, wide, all the symptoms of a plate, and in that lifeless ‘sci-fi’ grey-white that they should have been self-aware enough of to avoid using too.

Landing spaceships on the plates surface was a process very similar to parking in a crowded parking lot. You simple plunked your ship down where ever there was enough room, and if you happened to inconvenience someone else by parking your Citadel 3rd class luxury vehicle on top of their dinky little spaceship, well, that was their problem.

The spaceship that we’re looking at, is more of a middling build. Big enough for a large crew, coated black with red accents. It belongs to Kaz’buls group. These people would take on any job, from anyone. Their specialty lies in finding and retrieving objects of great value, such as treasure, old artifacts, lives and other things.

These requests were often commissions by individuals or organizations who valued these objects, and needed some unscrupulous characters to obtain them. This was how they earned their money, however, very often they pre-empted someone’s request, and found (Read: stole) the item ahead of time. They would then be able to drive up the price at their leisure. Knowing that what they desired would be in their hands almost immediately for a higher price did wonders for loosening people’s wallets.

The crew disembarked their ship. It was fairly ratty looking on the outside, on account of the numerous escapades they’d been involved in, but the inside was surprisingly plush. It even had carpeted flooring!

The captain, Kaz’bul, a short man, both in temper, and in height, led them all to the elevator shaft. They were surprisingly big. One main shaft, the size of a football field, led straight down to the bottom, into the Nuvalt embassy. The other five, smaller, but still pretty big, shafts led down the observation deck that stretched out over the city, just under the cloud cover.

The plate was quiet, very quiet for something that was supposed to be tourist destination.

‘They must have seen us coming, oh well, Nuvalt isn’t known for its military strength.’

“Now, you all remember our goals. Screamer, Longshot,” The two men stopped glaring at one another to pay attention. “If you two could focus on killing anyone who intervenes, instead of each other, that would nice. Screamer, it’s a city so you’re opening up the assault. Whirly, do your thing. The rest of you..”

Kaz’bul looked around at the rest of the people gathered. They all looked equally as eager to let loose and cause mayhem.

‘God, wrangling these morons is a full-time job, isn’t it?’

“Search, and if necessary, destroy.”

A chorus of voices rang out gleefully.

“Sir, yes sir!”