<span style='font-size:14pt;line-height:100%'>Day~ 46th Month~ mia(Winter) Year~ 81380 Time~ Ten minutes before midnight... [P]rivate for Patajs {Alkia} and Donnie {Lucian} Warning: I'm quite sure how intense the following scenes will be just know that there will be some Gore and possible language as well. Enjoy.</span> The wind picked up slightly, increased its tempo than died back down, but with it carried the strong scent of salty ocean air. She breathed deep, gazing out into the ever-sleepless waves from her vantage point, it occurred to her that the ocean seemed to be breathing, that it was alive in some way... She wrinkled her nose to these musings, and scolded herself mentally for not keeping focused. Patajs turned her eyes, and thoughts to where she was, perched a top a run down warehouse, one of the many places pirates, and rogues smuggled their valuables, it was also were she had just come from receiving her next assignment. The person she had conversed with was a fidgety little man with a nervous face and shifty eyes; it was almost humorous that he brought a much larger fellow along to their meeting, in case she “acted aggressively" was her guess. The little man represented one of many pirate crews, whose name she didn’t care to recall, and gave her instructions in a high whiny voice. She grimaced at the thought of his irritating vocals, and decided she would kill him when everything was said and done, his little bodyguard would be of no help. In one hand she held a bust shot of her victim, information concerning him was all memorized to prevent any immaterial evidence. His name was Paum Javodaa, and he’s been a naughty boy by telling the authorities about clandestine import operations, someone decided he had to be dealt with. That someone took the risk of calling the Ivory Death, and in exchange for a portion of their latest imports, she was specially requested to make sure Paum knew exactly why he had to be punished. Now it was time to go about deciding how to deal with this unfortunate one, techniques change according to whether the subject is unaware of their danger, aware but unguarded, or guarded. They’re also affected by whether or not the assassin is to be killed with the victim afterward; an assassination where the victim is unaware is called "simple", those where the victim is aware but unguarded is called "chase", and those where the victim is guarded are denoted "guarded." Most assassins are mentally unstable if they plan to commit suicide after an operation is complete, but if that’s their intent the act is known as "lost." If the assassin plans to escape, they will be called "safe." There can be no compromises on such a matter. She also considered the importance of occasionally concealing the fact a victim was subject to assassination rather than an accident or natural causes. If concealment were desirable the operation would be classified "secret", if concealment is unnecessary, the act would be classified "open". She wouldn’t have to trouble herself by making it look like an accident, this man was a no one and very little interest would be raised by his death. Yes, this one would be safe, simple, and open. Taking one last glance at the photo she shredded it and casually tossed it to the salty wind. <span style='color:gray'>“Time for the fun…"</span> Her bleak visage tuned to every sensation of the night as quaternary wings unfurled and she gently glided from her perch.
Donnie Darklight stood not far from the docks, he was here to protect an informant who was supplying information to him. Lately he had come under a little heat and their was rumour that his cover had been compromised. He had come here to make sure he got away safely if things turned sour, or just hide in the shadows and pick up the next info batch. But until then he was lurking around in the shadows of the warehouse region, the wind rustling through his tiger like stripes and sending ripples over his fur. He was completely engulfed in shadow, wearing mostly black too. He had on a full length black leather coat which seemed to be fashionable around here, not to mention it was less conspicuous then full ninja type gear. With his glasses over his eyes, although they were sunglasses they had a night vision filter. Yet not a single shine was emitted from them, perfect for espionage. He thumbed one of his holsters nervously, the soft tan, well worn thing on his hip. It was perfect for quick draw and had practically no stick, he hated the shinny black polished things that couldnÂ’t flex even a little bit. You could die in a millisecond when it came to guns, and every advantage you could get was vital. He was getting increasingly nervous as time tick past, not even feeling the cold as his panic set in a little. So far there was no sign of his informant, he prayed that something hadnÂ’t already happened or he was too late. He was a good man and didnÂ’t deserve his situation, but life was hard. He scanned the area again, but this time caught sight of something. Maybe the meeting was finally happening.
It was foolish, but not so foolish only a minor error, as always Patajs wore a dark coat and cowl to camouflage her ivory fur, she wasn’t so stupid as to dress bare even for such a simple operation. But she expected tonight to go smoothly, and failed to prepare for any unexpected obstacles, only a standard dagger and a .45 Colt Pistol. Patajs much preferred the traditional bow and arrow to firearms, believing one could rely more on ones own talents with a bow, but her pistol would be efficient enough. Skipping from rooftop to rooftop occasionally scanning the grimy streets below, she would soon discover her error. The target had finally emerged from a dingy alley and began scurrying down the road with jerky nervous movements; he was a pudgy dragon of average height, and seemed much older than in his photo, but fear will do that to a man, he seemed to be very frightened. Did he know of her task? Probably not, but he did know, like a mouse hunting for food, that death could be waiting right around the corner. She glided silently to the ground and began to follow her quarry, curious to know as to where he was headed to in such a hurry. His heart was beating quite fast, her magnificently attuned ears could pick up it’s quickened pace even from so far away, and this excited her. If only I could describe the sheer thrill she received from the moments before a kill, having complete control over her prey’s life, the feeling was quite exotic. Alas though, as she was about to move in they turned a corner and there, just standing about, was a man. Her quick reflexes caught this however, and before her position was exposed she managed to quickly pull back. Patajs’ error was now quite clear; the man was armed with possibly a semi-automatic weapon, obviously not a rival assassin but that of a law enforcer. <span style='color:gray'>“Fuck..." </span> Glowering at them she cracked her neck, it was a way to voice her irritation, since she rarely showed any kind of emotion. The Ivory Death wanted this to be quick and smooth, with no witnesses, but this was most definitely going to be a wearisome night…
Donnie pulled back further into the shadows once he was certain his contact had seen him. The arden looked like he was at deaths door with fright and such, he needed to be calm if he was ever to lie convincingly. Sweating buckets and looking like you had just seen a ghost would get him killed, things were already in a bad way. It didnÂ’t help that he himself was getting edgy, he could swear blind that something was following him yet nothing was their. His hand was now resting on his falcon pistol, perfectly ready to draw. His scanned around with his night vision glasses again, zooming in on specific locations, looking for positively anything. So far their still wasnÂ’t even any sign of the people the contact was supposed to be meeting. Maybe they had rumbled him, maybe they were just late. It was no use, if they werenÂ’t here in the next 5 minutes he was pulling him out. This business was risky enough with out good contacts disappearing then reappearing face down in the river. Yet force of habit made him push on, to see if they could get the big win. If he got one more private bust he could maybe get a promotion, to become a captain and get his own ship would be a dream. His concentration slacked a little bit as his smiled to himself, he had come from such a harsh place in life, it would be his lifeÂ’s dream to make a name for himself. To prove that despite circumstances, despite everything that had stood in his way and everything that had put him down. He could succeed and would succeed. He was quite happy in his idyllic dream state, hardly noticing the world around him.
Patajs pressed her back against the building wall, away from the single working street-lamp, and jerked her head. She was attempting to crack her neck again, but this time it refused to produce a satisfying ‘pop’, which irritated her all the more. Grimacing that she couldn’t even alleviate her stress, she pressed her cheek to the wall as well, and glared at the long shadow of Puam on the ground. It swayed to and fro as the pudgy dragon shifted from one leg to the other, like he was about to wet himself; it brought a sort of cold grin to her maw, this is exactly why he had to die. The poor fool couldn’t lie; it just wasn’t in his character, and because of it The Ivory Death was called to make him disappear. Pulling her gaze away from the swaying shadow she looked upwards, the warehouse to which she was pressed was rather high, but she needed a clear view of the street without being seen, and a birds eye view seemed to be the best option. She pulled her arms loose from the sleeves of her trench and let it hang loosely by the hood; there were no holes cut for her wings, a precaution because she was so unusually white, and having any part of her exposed could get her killed. Lifting into the air as silent as an owl she gained altitude and wheeled about, landing ever so gracefully a top the warehouse. Gazing down to the wide street below she pulled the pistol from her trench, and made a few quick calculations as she attached the silencer. Ivory Death noticed her little tiger boy seemed very distracted, a cruel grin etched across her features as she took aim, his lack of focus would be his downfall. ‘Ping’, she fired, and Puam fell not knowing what hit him.
Donnie smiled to himself, brining one of his hands up to his head as he scratched at his ear in a very feline way. One little claw extended from his hand as he tended to irritated skin. It was at that point he heard a faint pop sound, like the lid coming off a fizzy bottle. But he knew from experience that it wasnÂ’t, he had been training with guns long enough to know the sound of them. His whole body span as his head scanned the area faster then his mind could almost process. The most obvious thing was the body of his informant laying on the floor, face down in the ground. Damm it He growled in fury, but his mind still worked. He had fallen face down away from the buildings, so the bullet had come from behind him. His eyes immediately zoomed to where assassins and snipers most likes to hide, up high. And his night vision glasses immediately picked up the outline of the black figure on the roof. His hand shot down to his holster and slid his flacon pistol out in one smooth, accurate motion. brining it to rest on his other arms wrist. This whole location and targeting manoeuvre had only taken 3 seconds, a silent testament to his training in the USR. As soon as the gun was in place he squeezed the trigger and let the bullets fly, his eye down the sigh of the gun as he began to run forwards. Still shooting off snap shots at her on the roof, the bullets whizzing towards her with a crack and a flash of yellow in the dark.
Puam had felt no pain, probably died exactly on impact, what a pity. It was Patajs favorite game to have a bit of fun first. If tiger boy hadn’t been there she probably would have shot his legs first; let him crawl a while, suffocate from the suspense a while. Once it got boring she would finish the job, but she had to be careful when she played those games, an assassin’s prime objective is to make absolutely sure the target is dead; you can never tell if someone might interfere. Tiger boy had recovered from his distractions rather mechanically; he had already located her and was firing rounds in an estimation of three seconds. Her great size made her an easy target, and had she not completely thrown her body backward she might’ve received much more injury then a few grazes. As Patajs lay there staring at the sky she began to produce a loud cold laugh; loud enough to tease the tiger boy. <span style='color:gray'>“Count your blessing!"</span> She shouted, <span style='color:gray'>“You were so distracted I could have easily killed you first!"</span> Patajs didn’t get up. She just lay there wondering if it was worth the effort to match skills with him. He was older, much more experienced in his field, and judging by his reaction time and shot accuracy he’s had extensive training. What a challenge that would be; she was already trying to calculate her next move, for something had caught her eye. Tiger boy needed night vision enhancements unlike herself, and that just might be the key to her new game.
Donnie's blood was boiling with rage and his heavy heart thudded against his chest with each second like a clock of guilt. She was right, he had been to busy in his own little world that he had completely forgotten about every thing else. He mentally punished himself a thousand times over for his mistake, while he mentally pushed his tail flame out. Having a great glowing thing while you were having a gun fight in the dark was not advised, it was always the little things that helped you survive. Now though he focused on getting to the assassin who had made a mockery of his very existence, he didnÂ’t bother answering her taunt. It would give away his position; instead he set to work scaling the side of the building. His claws digging into the walls as he climbed with record speed. He snuck his head up and over the edge and lined his gun up with a figure lying on the roof. Then his radio flared up, the white static then the crackle of Axel, his commanderÂ’s voice. Have you secured the target, he immediately tried to turn the thing off but he had giving his position away now. The red dot trying to land on his target as he fired off a round at her. As he fired though he nearly lost his footing and slipped, but his other arm shot out and grabbed the ledge. Pulling him self up before he could fire any more, then ducking behind some cover he pressed down his radio button. "No I repeat, target is down and I need assistance. LA on the roofs and moving fast. Repeat need assistance." Yelling at the thing before turning it off. It was not going well tonight.
Patajs stirred at the sound of tiger boy scaling the wall; he was either very strong to climb so fast, or just fueled by hate. He had already reached the top before she even bothered to react, and fired off a round at her. He probably would have landed his shots if not for the sudden sounds of his radio. “Have you secured the target?" It was almost comical the timing of this subordinate. Patajs stood and pulled her pistol as tiger boy dove for cover; things were starting to heat up. “No, I repeat target is down and I need assistance. LA on the roof and moving fast…" Patajs didn’t care to hear anymore; it wasn’t nice to call for backup in a one on one fight. She ripped open the stairway door and bolted down; if he was going to keep calling for help she would have to keep randomly changing their location. The old warehouse was lightless, but this worked more to her advantage; darkness was her element and a large part of her plan. Tiger boy will follow her, and if all goes well she can finish this quickly.
LA stood for lone assassin and even though he hadnÂ’t actually seen if they were any others yet he was confidant. Most assassins were loners anyway, the nature of the job meant that others could get in the way. MA or multiple assassins was more for kill squads really but that was a whole different ball game. Right now he was just more troubled with catching the fast moving thill. He hated these cop chases, so irritating. He hoped over the vent shaft that had proved his cover and sprinted for the door, his tail grabbing the handle and swinging himself around and down the dark stairwell. His gun immediately leveled and pointed down the stairs, the red beam of laser light pierced the darkness like a lance. His night vision glasses were helping so far, but he wasnÂ’t to fond of a situation. Assassins were quick, too quick. With his gun in hand and his body tensed for anything, he advanced down the stairs rather cautiously. His tail swished violently before he slid it around his leg and out of the way, it wasnÂ’t a place which he wanted grabbed. His feet padded down into the darkness as he entered the main body of the warehouse, the stacks of creates and walk ways.
Patajs clicked her claws on the wooden crate’s frame and sighed; she was truly enjoying this little hunt. As predicted tiger boy had followed, she could hear his hesitant footsteps amongst the several walkways. Down on all fours she leapt to a new stack of crates and watched. Darkness had quite a tangible quality to it; it can be felt through and shifted, best of all, her eyes could cut through it like a knife; letting her watch the arden progress into her hand. Any other assassin would shoot him in an instant, but Patajs wanted to have the fun she was deprived of with Puam. Holding a hand to her mouth she let her voice echo through the chasms of the warehouse, <span style='color:gray'>“Since we’re at a stand still for the moment, might I know your name?"</span> Her voice was impossible to pin point, but her question was clear enough. She wanted to know the name of her momentary rival; to know he was an equal creature of reason. She laid her belly on the crates wooden surface and wondered if he would reply. Perhaps he would be afraid to give away his position, but his breath and his footsteps were so noisy he must’ve known her anubian ears could easily detect him. <span style='color:gray'>“I also want to know why your so intent on finding me."</span>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>gah sorry this is late =/</td></tr></table> Donnie grinned as the assassins voice cut through the tension with a knife, it wouldnÂ’t be long now. He had a few tricks up his sleeve that would help him here, being a government agent did have the plus sides. Besides dental His foots thudded along the metal path way, he liked to think of this as the battle between agility and strength. The light quick one vs. the strong slower one, unfortunately with the invention of the gun it meant that they could both die with one hit. Not a great situation for him, after all he was the slow one. "<span style='color:orange'>Donnie</span>." He said flatly, he thought about keeping shut but it wasnÂ’t going to make a massive different. She must have seen him come in and was no doubt tracking him. For a minute he wondered if she knew, impossible, he dismissed his stupid thoughts instantly. "<span style='color:orange'>And like you I am doing my Job</span>." Although rather more professionally he felt like adding, he wasnÂ’t one to play with his food. Unlike this one, this female, she seemed more intent in getting a lean meal then killing and getting away.
