RP: ISC Phoenix [Mission 10] - Lock Up The Wolves

Uriel sighed. He felt like he was running away, and his reading was only making him feel guilty- probably for good reason. The Archangel pushed his holy tome aside, rose, and returned to the living room. Sebastian was now present- and Smith too. From the looks of things- wait, was that!?-

"Smith! If you don't kill that this very instant, I'm doing it for you. Five seconds." Unlike your typical scolding parent, Uriel did not count aloud. He merely waited, his body tense, his eyes ablaze and accusatory. He was no longer aware of the phone call, but the fact that no one else had jumped on the profiteer's case was perturbing.

For the umpteenth time, in some small corner of the Elysian's mind, a tally mark was scratched under the header, '# of Reasons to Leave.'

Now it was pretty awkward for Zeta to be almost nude, but there was no time to think about that now. She wondered what else must have come through Luca's mind just moments ago. She too knew well what it means to loose siblings and she would do anything to get Alpha and Delta back. They were dead though. If there is chance for Luca to get his long lost brother back, Zeta will do anything to help him.

Zeta simply moved to him and ended up standing behind him. Her hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly. He should know he can count on her after all.

"Nobody is killing Payday Junior." Enzo said, entering the room and finishing his beer simultaneously. After throwing the empty bottle in the trash and cracking open another one, he continued, "I'm gonna call some folks I knows in the blueish-green market and offload him for cash, so me an' Smithy can does the woik of the community."


Enzo took a deep drought of his beer and plopped down on the arm of the couch, his eyes on the screen.

"Who's the pretty lady?"

When Luca heard the mention that they were going to get rid of the Mishhu, that was okay. Then he he heard that they were going to give it to someone else, and that made Luca blink and his eyebrows furrow. Then there was the mention of the blueish-green market. Luca growled as he looked at the Mishhu in Smith's arms, and then over to Enzo and his shiteating grin and nonchalant attitude.

"Mr. Pavone, is that a-" Yuki asked, taken off guard. There was a blur of motion, and over Zeta's chest Luca's arm was stretched out with an ODM 10mm pistol that somehow came to hand concealed on Luca's person. "-mishhu?" Three loud shots cracked out and Smith could feel three bullets whiz past him - specifically past both of his underarms and between his legs - all of them hit the wall behind him - but the fact that Luca had a scarce moment to aim and still placed those shots where they were was unnerving, perhaps even supernatural.

"I thought I made it abundantly clear - you keep it or kill it - we are not going to make this someone else's problem." He eyed Enzo long and hard whilst keeping the pistol aimed at the Mishhu in Mr. Smith's hands, "That someone else is very unlikely to keep it under control and then what? Once it kills someone and creates a mishhu zombie problem that I frankly can't be arsed dealing with, the authorities will investigate and trace the seller back to us, then back to you."

Luca was wondering if Enzo had even considered what could happen after the transaction, especially with something as dangerous as this - things could go tits up even if their buyer could tell arse from elbow, "When they find out and if I can, I will crucify you. That's going to be bad press for us both. Let's prevent that from happening, shall we?"
"Well said, Son," Sebastian said as he drew his Blackhawk and kept it trained on Enzo whilst remaining seated, "Don't move."

"Well." Yuki felt it prudent to add to this exchange: "And for fuck's sake, don't sell it to anyone Yamataian, Nekovalkyrja or SAINT, they have more moles than Ralt's countryside on a summer day."

Luca then spun the weapon in his hand and made the next sentence very clear, as if there was a reverberation to his voice: "The next shot goes for the Mishhu. Smith, do not get in my way. - I will not miss, but my bullets are likely to overpenetrate. So, for your safety. Put it down."

Plus, the ISC Phoenix, as a brand, was already fairly wealthy. Enzo was making a handsome amount of money on the side for lending his likeliness to dolls and advertisements.

-

"That is a Mishhu, isn't it?" Someone asked telepathically.
"Yes. I have this to say though - he's either brilliant or stupid for bringing one on board - and magnified tenfold for wanting to let it remain as his problem alone or no one's." Came the reply.

"Yuki, how the hell did my brother undergo such a huge change in personality? I scarcely recognise him now. I mean, he's standing on his own two legs, he's got a crew, a brand and he's regarded as the most dangerous man in the galaxy; and I can't say I ever taught him to shoot like that."
"And you were no different? When we picked you up, you were laden with doubt. I'd estimate you and your little brother can draw even in a fist fight."
A light sigh came from nowhere, not even registering on Yuki's end of the transmission, "I hope it does not come to that. To tell you the truth, I am giddy for a family reunion, just as he and Dad are."

There was the sound of tiny sprinting feet a second before Ernie leapt, literally leapt, into the room, slid across the floor between Smiths legs and spun around so its two pistols were fixed on the only two people in the room with guns out. There was a seconds pause as the robot analysed the situation it had just landed in.

“Ernie inquires just what the hell is going on?” the robot said, its voice uncharacteristically dropping to a low tone. “Ernie would rather not have to utilise its medical equipment this morning.”

It was only then when Zeta noticed Smith and the Misshu. She was with Archangel on this. That thing should die. Luca made his own call though. Zeta considered herself having pretty fast reactions, but she must have blinked very slowly or something, because there was suddenly gun in Luca's hand and Luca's arm across her chest. Hot the bloody hell did he- was start of the thought, but then he fired. Once, twice and for third time.

When pistol is fired it ejects casings. Said casing is usually very hot, considering that it just had chemical being blown up in it. When casing ejects it flies off in various angles. One went over Zeta's shoulder, second hit the towel and flew away, but third landed just under her throat and rolled right between her perky breasts.

"Youch!" She yelped as hot metal touched soft skin and she jumped up. First thing was getting the towel out of the way and then getting that stupid casing off her. So she threw the towel away, letting it fly and safely land one Ernie's head while she took the matters in her own hands. Literally.

There was a small buzz and a spot of light as the little robots flashlight activated automatically to try and see through the towel then click off again. The fabric moved slightly as Ernies head shifted underneath it.

"Ernie may require assistance..." The robot finally stated as the towel started shifting about, the robot unwilling to let go of its pistols just yet.

Fortunately it tapped into the security feed and was still watching the situation from the vantage point of a small camera in the corner of the room.

Enzo gave very little in the way of reaction to being threatened with guns. His face showed a little impatience, the scars twisting around Despite his ears ringing and his temper flaring, the vagabond kept his casual position on the couch and sipped again at his beer. Eventually, he said with a sidelong glance towards Luca and his gun, "Dramatics, all of yous. I was gonna get 'em fixed. Ya know, takes out the baby makin' parts like yous woulds wit' any pet. Just a quick look-up on the Encyclopedia Medical and a few doses of the critter's own sleep juice-- Then... snip-snips."

Enzo's wicked grin returned for the last word, and even though he hadn't shared his little plan with Smith it seemed like he was planning three steps ahead of the Mishu's true owner.

"We dull up some of the spines, feed it some more o' dat junk they been feedin' it... Voy-la! Instant tiny fixed squid. You can sell it to the porno guys, to the sickos who wanna eat it, the college professor with the independant budget source, and many other whatnot types of peoples what woulds want a lil' squid underfoot."

It was a shame, really, that all the guns were out and about. Enzo was really in the mood to piss Zeta off by throwing cat-calls her way and making jokes about her body. Instead, he just took a casual glance over her as he passed his eyes around the rest of the room-- scanning for all the naysayers and critics. Eventually, his gaze rested on Sebastian, with the revolver leveled his way. Enzo shook his head at him and said, "Oi, Rojin. What makes yous thinks I was gonna move anyway? Ole' Enzo gonna try an' runs away from a conversation?"

Smith was carefully mulling over his polite, civilized reply to Uriel's ultimatum when a glint caught his eye - the businessman held still, knowing full well any sudden movement could light this powder keg of a 'team' Luca had. Shots rang out, brass casings flew about, and one busty blonde yelped indignantly as it went down her front. And of course, more guns were pulled out.

At first, he could only stare at Luca. First with shock, then cool anger, but quickly averted his gaze to politely focus on the baby squid as Zeta was practically jumping about naked. "I'm sorry Mister Pavone. Hisshana. Everone. But, I have a family to watch out for, and my cut coming from selling this little thing would go a long way into making things easier for them," he politely replied. "Since you are all staunchly against this, I'll pack and depart immediately upon making port. It will then be only a problem for me, and anybody else that wishes to get involved," he added, acknowledging Enzo. Normally, the man would have looked at each in turn as he spoke, but considering he was holding a highly invasive creature a foot or two in front of his chest with a pair of metal grill tongs, he focused on it instead. What's more, something was wrong with it - it was simply too docile all of a sudden.

Smith merely frowned and furrowed his brow. He ignored the swearing, cursing, bouncing Zeta and merely leaned forward to get a better look - it was hard to judge, but, if Smith didn't know better, the Mishhu was staring at something with its beady little eyes. But what? The Ori-Rep, remembering he was still idly holding a sawn-off by his side, tucked it away into the nook of his back before whipping out his data pad. "Now, what's got your attention?" he asked the baby mishhu with curiosity. By turning on a 'mirror mode' he was more or less able to see the reflection off of its eyes, and therefore, whatever had its attention.

He looked at the captured image and briefly froze.

As though nothing were wrong, Smith merely put away the data assistant. "I think 'Payday' is a great name for it, wouldn't you all say?" he asked with a big, toothy smile.

"Sure, sure, Smithy. Whatever you says..." Enzo was trailing off, his eye on the now calm Mishu, "So, eh... yeah? What's the deal wif Payday alla sudden? Why's he so calms an' shit?"

Thank God. Uriel was on the verge of concluding the crew was going crazy. Thankfully, it was only Enzo- and he had been born in the loony bin from the sounds of it. And Smith; he was a profiteering individual with a penchant for disguising his dogged pursuit of wealth as a legitimate problem. The Elysian didn't buy it for a second: Smith worked for Origin- a reputable name to begin with- and was in the business of selling their military-grade hardware. Feeding any family on that paycheck would be easy, not to mention his recent boost in income as a member of Luca's mercenaries.

The salesman's pitch, however, did not address the real issue. "The only no-risk option here," he began, but was immediately distracted by Zeta who had found reason to shirk her towel and show them all her God-given gifts. Uriel grimaced, averted his eyes and started again. "The only no-risk option here is eliminating the Misshu, and I won't watch you walk out the door cradling it in your arms- not while it's alive, anyways. It's a Misshu, for God's sake, not a dog.

Zeta finally managed to get rid of the casing and now was checking for burn marks. Luckily there were only few red spots on he chest. She frowned and returned her attention to Smith. She smacked her forehead and moved towards the man. She stopped caring about her nakedness by now.

"Smithy you big doofus," She said and looked in his eyes, or rather shades. She ignored small Misshu. "Once you sell it, it becomes problem. What if the guy you sell it to is not careful enough an it runs away? It will start killing people and it would be your mistake and your mistake only. You surely don't want to be responsible for dead people. Also if money is all this is about, why don't you just ask. We are one crew here and we help each other. How much do you need? Will 10 000 DA be enough? 20 000? I'll help you out, it is not like I need to money anyway. So what do you say mate?" She said and shrugged. In reality she would really be sorry to see so much money go, but unlike Smith she had no real use for them.

Smith kept his cool and spoke in carefully meted words, "It's precisely because it's a Mishhu that it's worth plenty when the right buyers are found. What's more, the criteria for 'right buyer' also includes being able to contain it properly," He explained. Since they did want to make it their business as to what happened after the deal was through, that was fine - he could further narrow the criteria. It'd take longer of course, and that also affected the chance of success considering everyone wanted to kill it, but it was doable.

"Zeta," he spoke out of nowhere.

Considering how he stepped back as she stepped forward, combined with the fact he refused to look at her through his currently clear glasses, it was rather apparent. In fact, if anyone were to guess, the way Smith clenched his teeth while trying to stay expressionless was another clue. Of course, more obvious signs were apparent, such as the faint reddening on his cheeks, or perhaps in the way he loosened his tie. "It's not that simple Zeta," Smith quietly replied. "And could you...please put your towel back on? It's indecent."

By now, anyone who was paying attention to the Baby Mishhu would notice it had practically went starry-eyed, placing a pair of tentacles across its small mandibles as though in awe of an epic sight. If anyone didn't realize Smith was answering Enzo earlier when he first said Zeta's name, they'd realize it now. And considering it's small size in relation to the woman, one could imagine what a sight it was for the little creature.

"I-It sounded like there was a new mission coming along Pavone?" Smith asked with a crooked, faltering smile as he tried to desperately steer away from the current, highly embarrassing situation. After all, did anyone want to be holding a perverted little space squid for this long?

He just wanted to be briefed before putting the thing into a proper container, out of sight and out of mind.

"Words do not solve this sort of problem," the Elysian made clear. His weapon was also still leveled at the alien. "Nor does changing the topic. I don't know how to be any clearer: Kill it. Or one of us will. Those are the only two options here." In spite of his spiritual leanings, Uriel found himself wanting to disregard Smith's well-being long enough to make the shot. He wouldn't be that man, but it had a very powerful allure at the time.

Zeta frowned at Smith, but then she noticed creature that was obviously watching her and her... assets. She grimaced and turned to Ernie. Well gifted bodyguard quickly reached to small robot and swiped the towel of its head, wrapping it around her breasts. She then looked back at Smith.

"Yes it is that simple. You need help, you ask for it." She said to him, but then stopped because Uriel stepped in again. She looked at him and said, "Didn't you hear captain? As long as it is Smiths responsibility, he is allowed to keep it and watch it. It is his choice if it dies or not. I don't like it one bit, but Luca is the one calling the shots."

"WA-RU-UI!"

It was a rather pathetically small voice, but it was a voice.

"WARUI!" the baby Mishhu squeaked in Yamataian again, angrily waving it's little tentacles about as Smith held it before himself with the metal tongs. It's many appendages could be seen flailing about angrily or trying to futilely break the metal grip or reaching out towards Zeta all at once. The Origin Rep didn't say a word quite yet, but merely looked off to the side, grimacing before turning his gaze to settle right on Uriel.

"To clarify," Smith started stiffly, "I tried changing the subject because holding on to this little thing is embarrassing. Completely, utterly, embarrassing," he explained with a bitter coldness. By now, Payday had settled down and ceased pouting. In fact, it looked rather depressed as it's little limbs dangled loosely by its sides. "I'd rather tuck this away, or anything else first, so we can talk like adults rather than point guns at each other like starving children in the slums."

And it was Zeta he looked at next, his voice guarded, cautious. "I appreciate the gesture, but I honestly don't feel comfortable with the idea. This is personal."

"Ah.... personal." Zeta said and nodded few times, before looking him in the eyes again. "So you are going to turn down help from a friend just because of your stupid pride even when your family could use the money. Fine." She said and walked to the door. "I am going to get dressed, keep that thing away from me."

"Ah, fuck it, Smithy." Enzo finally started in again, spending most of the conversation up until this point in a state somewhere between thinking and looking at Zeta's rear-end. Having finally come to a conclusion, he put his plan into action.

"Let's takes the poor little shit out into space." He instructed, approaching Smith with a clever look on his face. "We'll shoots it out the Lady's airlock too far froms anything what matters, an' blows it to smithereens."

Enzo put a sympathetic hand on Smith's shoulder. At the same time, his sympathetic hand gave the shoulder a squeeze that told Mathew to 'just play along'.

"Hmph. Calling the shots." His eyes scoured all those present. "Is everyone forgetting that this here is a damned Misshu!? How does this not disturb you all? He wants to profit by selling a Misshu. And no matter how you paint it, you can't guarantee anything on the buyer's end- certainly not the security of the creature." Uriel still had not lowered his firearm, but made sure his aim was true to center mass on Payday. "And don't try to downplay me. It isn't childish to want the greatest galactic parasites dead, and it certainly isn't childish of me to aim my gun at it. Not you, it. That you refuse to surrender it to an executioner strikes me as worrisome. They are, as I hope everyone has not forgotten, infamous for mind control."

"I said it once and I'll say it again - you can keep it, teach it to read 'My Little Derringer - The Fantastic Gunpowder Gardens' or something," Luca was referring to a Nepleslian kid's show aimed at girls, "Use it as target practice or a drug shop on chitinous legs, but you aren't going sell it or lend it to anyone - capace? Your Mishhu, your problem."

Luca sighed, lowering his gun, "And if it tries to kill you try and gurgle your last words over intercom so I can come and put it out of its misery." In Luca's eyes, 'Try' was a word he associated with Smith - between something in his tortured psyche he was yet to give up and everything else in between, Luca wouldn't have been incorrect to think that there was something deeply troubling about him or happening to him, "Echelon?"

"Yes, Captain Fleshhead?" Echelon's bandsaw-voice replied.
"If the Mishhu gets out, gimme a yell and contain it," After making that order, he blinked and scratched his chinfluff, "And while you're at it, can you find Naoko? She's being unusually catlike. Where has she gone anyway?"

Concern crossed his voice, because she had a stake in the Mishhu too, but she seemed to be completely out of the loop to this, but Luca hadn't ruled out the possibility of her hiding in the lounge room and being very, very quiet.

He decided not to think about that previous thought in too much detail. Ceiling Naoko is watching -everybody- masturbate, simultaneously, Luca bitterly considered, blinking as his face screwed up. John shot Luca a glance of incredulity, but Luca shrugged in reply.

John nodded and raised an eyebrow and nodded his head slowly. Luca crossed his index fingers and shook his head with a frown. John then nodded, apparently satisfied by the reply. Then he mulled it over and the colour drained from his face.

John worried: What if she was right under his nose at this very moment and dodging his movements as he finished off breakfast - or spiking his drinks with flavourless, odourless Mishhu pee when he wasn't looking?
Somehow, only Luca would be perfectly fine with that, even if he didn't consider the likelihood of it happening. He had experience in dealing with invisible men and women in the past.

"That aside, do I make myself clear? Mishhu stays here. We keep it, farm it -ourselves-, or kill it - it is not anybody else's problem.
"And if it causes you to crave necrophilia after a nick on the hand, that's not my bloody problem either!"