OsakanOne
Retired Member
Late summer, YE 34 - Nepleslia
Seiren sat at the Shattered Shell, an odd cafe in Funky City with a story behind the name, which the author decided not to go into detail about because that would take up a small novel. On a related note, the drink he was having was called a "Wild Kohanian."
Seiren didn't really want to think of how the drink got its name.
He sipped thoughtfully on the glass, surveying the surroundings from under his beanie, one finger idly playing with a tassel of hair.
"Sheesh, they said they'd be here at 12 and it's a minute 'till," He complained under his breath.
About that time, a pale figure dressed in a loose white parker in sensible business attire; shirt, pants tie -- all white, even messy hair with the exception of the tie in ruby-red that it all framed. She seemed to float as she walked almost like a cloud or even a ghost. Ivory hands lowered mirrored aviator lenses. Cerise peeked through the window. As the door swung open, a soft jingle sounded of the bells against the door-frame as she took calm steps, striding in almost silently before sitting aside Seiren just as his watch ticked twelve. At a glance, she didn't seem to belong to any particular race. She wasn't Nepleslian and she probably wasn't Yamataian. Lorath would be a stretch.
"I assume you're Mr. Sieren?"
"Wow. On the dot. Stupendous, stamped, and delivered. Yep, that's me. I assume you're the now not-so-anonymous one?" He asked, setting his drink down and straightening his beanie. The inventor sized up the girl, trying to take a guess what she was exactly. She was humanoid, and didn't have fur, so that crossed off half the list of species he knew of. Seiren didn't care enough to try to guess further.
He half joked, "And should I be asking who you're working for, or is this the sort of thing where if you told me you'd have to kill me?"
Only half joking.
"You've got a sense of humor. And you're not bad looking either." she said, fingers tapping on a polished black plastic pad - semi clear with dark red digital lettering as she skimmed through a list.
"We've done some psychological profiling on you and... Simply put." the woman said, sliding the slate across the table. "You can say yes or you can say no. Its entirely your choice. I won't pressure you."
The document had a particular set of complex instructions and a procurement list beneath it. Below was a number. It was quite a large number. Enough to set up Seiren for life several times over.
"Why thanks! I'm proud of myself!" Seiren cheerfully replied, flipping the pad to read it. He really just skimmed the majority of it, but raised a few eyebrows at most of the things on the procurements portion of the list.
"If you're even slightly contemplating doing this but you don't like that number... We can change it." she watched, sat perfectly still.
"That's some. . . heavy stuff, doc," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "But, I'm not exactly inclined to think that Yamatai is quite the perfect place they'd like everybody else to believe, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, I agree completely. Something like this would be healthy for everyone. I'm sure you understand" the woman said, turning her head some. She couldn't have been older than seventeen, maybe eighteen in Nepleslian years.
"And I'm going to need an exit strategy. This sort of thing will be obfuscatingly difficult to escape from once it's accomplished," Seiren pointed out, thoughtfully sipping from his glass.
"Oh, we know. Transport has been arranged, naturally. As have a new identity and sizable startup capitol. We can even change your blood if you'd like. A genetic makeover. Even better, ... If you'd like to, we could remove your memories of the event afterward -- rendering this whole thing... Deniable. It would just be you, your deep pockets and your smile.... In fact, In their eyes, that person would be dead." she smiled, cheeks warming now. "I could even arrange a body if it suits you."
"Eh, I might not remember, but they would. I don't trust Yamatai to not do something drastic, y'know? I NEVER hear of any dissidents in the Empire, so that makes me suspicious of their actions. But the body thing sounds like a potential path for me."
"You don't hear of them" she licked her lips as she nodded to a waiter - tapping the menu several times. The waiter just seemed to know, disappearing to return with a cup of coffee and what would appear to be a remarkably tall ice-cream sundae.
"And I'll need a body that isn't Yamataian. I want to be as Pantheon free as possible," Seiren added, eyeing the sundae. "Is that for me?"
"As much as I like sweet things, coffee is more my style. I had the ingredients flown in, actually. They've had this waiting for you for a while now. Do you like it?"
"Sweet, pun ENTIRELY intended!" He said, scooting the delicious delectable to his fore and chowing down. In between bites, he asked, "You guys are really the cat's toes, what with all these funds. If you can do all this, why do you need a middle man like me?"
"Because we are not the cats toes. There are places we can't be seen and people we can't be seen talking to" she smiled. "As far as you're concerned, our little conversation here never took place. We were never here." she spoke calmly, pale fingers running over her mug, thumb over the rim before she rose it to her nose, taking a deep inhale before following with a slow drink. The way her throat contracted as she swallowed was almost lurid. Like she was some predatory animal -- or not a person at all. "I'm sure you understand" she completed her sentence, a rosey look in her cheeks, eyes chilled, calm, inscruitable.
"Of course. Wouldn't want to tarnish whatever reputation you and your mystery corp has. So, yeah. Exit strategy - make me dead, give me a new body, and then I'm set for life? Sounds too good to be true. Still, I can't imagine why anybody would try to do something bad to somebody Luca Pavone worked with, so I'm going to have to say yes."
She smiled. Something of the mention of that name softened her expression.
Seiren pushed the dessert to the center of the table, having finished the entire thing.
"So now what happens?"
"You sign, I pick up the tab and then I leave. The rest will fall into place."
"Deal," Seiren said, pressing his thumb to the center of the pad. A quiet beeping sounded as a bar slowly grew from left to right, numbers building toward a total before the screen flashed red and then back to its neutral black reading [Genetic record clear, Agreement Completed].
She eyed her watch for a moment, fishing into the breast pocket of her shirt beneath her coat for a few notes and some coins. She settled the notes underneath the base of the sundae's rim - a few rare collectors coins placed for tip as she then positioned a small roll of bills.
"For the journey home. First-class sound nice?" she smiled. It was almost maternal as she peeled her glasses from her nose - fingertips polshing the silvery lenses - revealing curiously detatched cerise eyes. Lorath, maybe? "What is ahead of you isn't easy. Treat yourself while you can" she watched him before sliding the glasses back along her nose and into place.
The inventor took the bills and slid them into his pockethis pocket, giving a nod.
"I'll make a few nice things with my remaining free time. I've got an enlistment to make, now."
"One more thing" she began, holding the slate up. Carefully, she folded it like a birthday card before pulling into two halves, placing one before him. Even after such treatment, the pad seemed content to continue working.
"This one is yours. If customs ask, its a standard datapad. This will be how you contact us. If you are compromised, break it in half, as you saw me do and then rip the two halves apart. Any transmissions are encrypted both memetically and referentially with your genetic sequence and anonymized through... A fairly popular public network - entanglement systems on either end so the message can't be intercepted before reaching the network. So don't worry about anyone listening."
"Uh-huh. A popular public network," Seiren responded, a sly smile crossing his face. He took the pad, placing it into a satchel that sat under his chair. "I'm going to take a guess and say the network's name is somehow related to your association?"
"I cannot say - and nor should you. There is also a battery of recipies stored on there, if you care to look them over. Seemed like the sort of thing you'd appreciate it. Might make you think twice before losing it." she pursed her lips, grinning into her coffee. "Lots of pictures. We know you think in pictures." She almost laughed, making the wisps of steam rising from her coffee dance silently with her breath before she drank the last of it.
"Hah, you're all right. And this won't be a decision that either of us'll regret, tho' I know that there's going to a bumpy road on the way," He said with a calm shrug, leaning back in his chair again. "So goodbye for now?"
"Mm." she said, placing her mug back down on the table. "Something like that. I'd shake your hand but I'm... Not really supposed to leave any trace of myself."
Seiren gave a small salute wave, a gesture that made it seem like the two were good friends.
"Fair enough. I'll do with a wave."
"Its a shame you know" she said as she gathered her presence and stood to her feet, grin wrinkling to one side as she thought for a moment. "I won't get to see you all dolled up."
"In the uniform? I get the feeling you'll have access to something related to nonclassified military pictures," he snickered, pulling his satchel from under his chair and placing it into his lap.
"Oh contrare. We know about your other habits." she said, settling a dark cap on her head - coat slowly changing color with chameleon quality - white to black along with her pants and shirt, tie to blue before his very eyes - the back of the coat lowering to become much longer and looser.
Her glasses were no longer silver - a dark caramel plastic black now. At a glance, she could easily be somebody else. A young lady wearing clothes quite remarkably similar to the scheme she had been wearing moments ago made her way down the steps, her hand in those of an older man. The operative just laughed quietly to herself as she glanced in their direction. "Quite the lady, I have to say"
"Wait what."
Seiren's jaw dropped.
"How do you know about- wait, I don't want to hear. I get the feeling I'm going to have to check my apartment for bugs now."
"Apartment? No. You did this to yourself. I suggest you not post pictures when you've been drinking."
"Goddamnit, I knew I shouldn't have had that Blazer combo. . ." He groaned, facepalming.
"For what it's worth, the majority of the network probably think its just another myface or spacebook profile picture, what with the angle you held the camera at. Nobody knows its you. Unless they use their brains and read the metadata."
"Well, let's hope it stays that way. . ."
"For what its worth... The body you wanted? The non-Yamataian? If you could be anything, what would you change?"
"I kind of like me the way I am. Sure, I can't reach the cookie jar or look more intimidating than a puppy, but nobody expects me to be packing heat," he cackled, twisting his wrist to cause his Little Killer to pop out of his sleeve.
"If you don't reach the minimum height for enlistment, we might have to change that" she said, her hands now gloved in dark material as she extended her fingertips to caress along his jaw, reading his eyes now. "Shame, really. I think you're quite the prize."
"Oh please, they don't have a height requirement, beyond 4' 6" I think. And thanks, I think?"
"Be seeing you" she said, a brief glance over her shoulder and. She eyed the waiter on her way out, handing him her datapad. She stepped out onto the sidewalk, shoulders rolling as she stretched. Soon, the stranger hailed a taxi and disappeared from Seiren's life as quickly as she had appeared. This would be the last time this particular her would meet him, but there would be others replacing her.
He twisted his wrist a second time to retract the gun back into his sleeve.
"Well, damn. You meet a nice girl and they disappear five minutes after meeting ya. Oh well, This probably ain't the last time I see her. Probably." Seiren sighed, standing up and looping the satchel strap over his shoulder.
"Now, about those flights to Yamatai. . ."
Seiren sat at the Shattered Shell, an odd cafe in Funky City with a story behind the name, which the author decided not to go into detail about because that would take up a small novel. On a related note, the drink he was having was called a "Wild Kohanian."
Seiren didn't really want to think of how the drink got its name.
He sipped thoughtfully on the glass, surveying the surroundings from under his beanie, one finger idly playing with a tassel of hair.
"Sheesh, they said they'd be here at 12 and it's a minute 'till," He complained under his breath.
About that time, a pale figure dressed in a loose white parker in sensible business attire; shirt, pants tie -- all white, even messy hair with the exception of the tie in ruby-red that it all framed. She seemed to float as she walked almost like a cloud or even a ghost. Ivory hands lowered mirrored aviator lenses. Cerise peeked through the window. As the door swung open, a soft jingle sounded of the bells against the door-frame as she took calm steps, striding in almost silently before sitting aside Seiren just as his watch ticked twelve. At a glance, she didn't seem to belong to any particular race. She wasn't Nepleslian and she probably wasn't Yamataian. Lorath would be a stretch.
"I assume you're Mr. Sieren?"
"Wow. On the dot. Stupendous, stamped, and delivered. Yep, that's me. I assume you're the now not-so-anonymous one?" He asked, setting his drink down and straightening his beanie. The inventor sized up the girl, trying to take a guess what she was exactly. She was humanoid, and didn't have fur, so that crossed off half the list of species he knew of. Seiren didn't care enough to try to guess further.
He half joked, "And should I be asking who you're working for, or is this the sort of thing where if you told me you'd have to kill me?"
Only half joking.
"You've got a sense of humor. And you're not bad looking either." she said, fingers tapping on a polished black plastic pad - semi clear with dark red digital lettering as she skimmed through a list.
"We've done some psychological profiling on you and... Simply put." the woman said, sliding the slate across the table. "You can say yes or you can say no. Its entirely your choice. I won't pressure you."
The document had a particular set of complex instructions and a procurement list beneath it. Below was a number. It was quite a large number. Enough to set up Seiren for life several times over.
"Why thanks! I'm proud of myself!" Seiren cheerfully replied, flipping the pad to read it. He really just skimmed the majority of it, but raised a few eyebrows at most of the things on the procurements portion of the list.
"If you're even slightly contemplating doing this but you don't like that number... We can change it." she watched, sat perfectly still.
"That's some. . . heavy stuff, doc," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "But, I'm not exactly inclined to think that Yamatai is quite the perfect place they'd like everybody else to believe, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, I agree completely. Something like this would be healthy for everyone. I'm sure you understand" the woman said, turning her head some. She couldn't have been older than seventeen, maybe eighteen in Nepleslian years.
"And I'm going to need an exit strategy. This sort of thing will be obfuscatingly difficult to escape from once it's accomplished," Seiren pointed out, thoughtfully sipping from his glass.
"Oh, we know. Transport has been arranged, naturally. As have a new identity and sizable startup capitol. We can even change your blood if you'd like. A genetic makeover. Even better, ... If you'd like to, we could remove your memories of the event afterward -- rendering this whole thing... Deniable. It would just be you, your deep pockets and your smile.... In fact, In their eyes, that person would be dead." she smiled, cheeks warming now. "I could even arrange a body if it suits you."
"Eh, I might not remember, but they would. I don't trust Yamatai to not do something drastic, y'know? I NEVER hear of any dissidents in the Empire, so that makes me suspicious of their actions. But the body thing sounds like a potential path for me."
"You don't hear of them" she licked her lips as she nodded to a waiter - tapping the menu several times. The waiter just seemed to know, disappearing to return with a cup of coffee and what would appear to be a remarkably tall ice-cream sundae.
"And I'll need a body that isn't Yamataian. I want to be as Pantheon free as possible," Seiren added, eyeing the sundae. "Is that for me?"
"As much as I like sweet things, coffee is more my style. I had the ingredients flown in, actually. They've had this waiting for you for a while now. Do you like it?"
"Sweet, pun ENTIRELY intended!" He said, scooting the delicious delectable to his fore and chowing down. In between bites, he asked, "You guys are really the cat's toes, what with all these funds. If you can do all this, why do you need a middle man like me?"
"Because we are not the cats toes. There are places we can't be seen and people we can't be seen talking to" she smiled. "As far as you're concerned, our little conversation here never took place. We were never here." she spoke calmly, pale fingers running over her mug, thumb over the rim before she rose it to her nose, taking a deep inhale before following with a slow drink. The way her throat contracted as she swallowed was almost lurid. Like she was some predatory animal -- or not a person at all. "I'm sure you understand" she completed her sentence, a rosey look in her cheeks, eyes chilled, calm, inscruitable.
"Of course. Wouldn't want to tarnish whatever reputation you and your mystery corp has. So, yeah. Exit strategy - make me dead, give me a new body, and then I'm set for life? Sounds too good to be true. Still, I can't imagine why anybody would try to do something bad to somebody Luca Pavone worked with, so I'm going to have to say yes."
She smiled. Something of the mention of that name softened her expression.
Seiren pushed the dessert to the center of the table, having finished the entire thing.
"So now what happens?"
"You sign, I pick up the tab and then I leave. The rest will fall into place."
"Deal," Seiren said, pressing his thumb to the center of the pad. A quiet beeping sounded as a bar slowly grew from left to right, numbers building toward a total before the screen flashed red and then back to its neutral black reading [Genetic record clear, Agreement Completed].
She eyed her watch for a moment, fishing into the breast pocket of her shirt beneath her coat for a few notes and some coins. She settled the notes underneath the base of the sundae's rim - a few rare collectors coins placed for tip as she then positioned a small roll of bills.
"For the journey home. First-class sound nice?" she smiled. It was almost maternal as she peeled her glasses from her nose - fingertips polshing the silvery lenses - revealing curiously detatched cerise eyes. Lorath, maybe? "What is ahead of you isn't easy. Treat yourself while you can" she watched him before sliding the glasses back along her nose and into place.
The inventor took the bills and slid them into his pockethis pocket, giving a nod.
"I'll make a few nice things with my remaining free time. I've got an enlistment to make, now."
"One more thing" she began, holding the slate up. Carefully, she folded it like a birthday card before pulling into two halves, placing one before him. Even after such treatment, the pad seemed content to continue working.
"This one is yours. If customs ask, its a standard datapad. This will be how you contact us. If you are compromised, break it in half, as you saw me do and then rip the two halves apart. Any transmissions are encrypted both memetically and referentially with your genetic sequence and anonymized through... A fairly popular public network - entanglement systems on either end so the message can't be intercepted before reaching the network. So don't worry about anyone listening."
"Uh-huh. A popular public network," Seiren responded, a sly smile crossing his face. He took the pad, placing it into a satchel that sat under his chair. "I'm going to take a guess and say the network's name is somehow related to your association?"
"I cannot say - and nor should you. There is also a battery of recipies stored on there, if you care to look them over. Seemed like the sort of thing you'd appreciate it. Might make you think twice before losing it." she pursed her lips, grinning into her coffee. "Lots of pictures. We know you think in pictures." She almost laughed, making the wisps of steam rising from her coffee dance silently with her breath before she drank the last of it.
"Hah, you're all right. And this won't be a decision that either of us'll regret, tho' I know that there's going to a bumpy road on the way," He said with a calm shrug, leaning back in his chair again. "So goodbye for now?"
"Mm." she said, placing her mug back down on the table. "Something like that. I'd shake your hand but I'm... Not really supposed to leave any trace of myself."
Seiren gave a small salute wave, a gesture that made it seem like the two were good friends.
"Fair enough. I'll do with a wave."
"Its a shame you know" she said as she gathered her presence and stood to her feet, grin wrinkling to one side as she thought for a moment. "I won't get to see you all dolled up."
"In the uniform? I get the feeling you'll have access to something related to nonclassified military pictures," he snickered, pulling his satchel from under his chair and placing it into his lap.
"Oh contrare. We know about your other habits." she said, settling a dark cap on her head - coat slowly changing color with chameleon quality - white to black along with her pants and shirt, tie to blue before his very eyes - the back of the coat lowering to become much longer and looser.
Her glasses were no longer silver - a dark caramel plastic black now. At a glance, she could easily be somebody else. A young lady wearing clothes quite remarkably similar to the scheme she had been wearing moments ago made her way down the steps, her hand in those of an older man. The operative just laughed quietly to herself as she glanced in their direction. "Quite the lady, I have to say"
"Wait what."
Seiren's jaw dropped.
"How do you know about- wait, I don't want to hear. I get the feeling I'm going to have to check my apartment for bugs now."
"Apartment? No. You did this to yourself. I suggest you not post pictures when you've been drinking."
"Goddamnit, I knew I shouldn't have had that Blazer combo. . ." He groaned, facepalming.
"For what it's worth, the majority of the network probably think its just another myface or spacebook profile picture, what with the angle you held the camera at. Nobody knows its you. Unless they use their brains and read the metadata."
"Well, let's hope it stays that way. . ."
"For what its worth... The body you wanted? The non-Yamataian? If you could be anything, what would you change?"
"I kind of like me the way I am. Sure, I can't reach the cookie jar or look more intimidating than a puppy, but nobody expects me to be packing heat," he cackled, twisting his wrist to cause his Little Killer to pop out of his sleeve.
"If you don't reach the minimum height for enlistment, we might have to change that" she said, her hands now gloved in dark material as she extended her fingertips to caress along his jaw, reading his eyes now. "Shame, really. I think you're quite the prize."
"Oh please, they don't have a height requirement, beyond 4' 6" I think. And thanks, I think?"
"Be seeing you" she said, a brief glance over her shoulder and. She eyed the waiter on her way out, handing him her datapad. She stepped out onto the sidewalk, shoulders rolling as she stretched. Soon, the stranger hailed a taxi and disappeared from Seiren's life as quickly as she had appeared. This would be the last time this particular her would meet him, but there would be others replacing her.
He twisted his wrist a second time to retract the gun back into his sleeve.
"Well, damn. You meet a nice girl and they disappear five minutes after meeting ya. Oh well, This probably ain't the last time I see her. Probably." Seiren sighed, standing up and looping the satchel strap over his shoulder.
"Now, about those flights to Yamatai. . ."
