Participants:
| Scene Title | Laid Off |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | History, an attempt at quitting a job, and the most interesting way of being fired ever |
| Date | July 08, 2010 |
A private fencing club's private room.
Alia walks into the private room of the fencing club, taking off her backpack. There is a wary skittishness to her steps, as she takes the blade normally kept in it's concealed pocket out, and puts it on a belt sheath. Instead of the normal white fencing outfit, she is wearing normal street clothes, with the addition of a leather jacket, covering her torso. Must be a bitch in this heat to wear, but it offers something she might need if Adam's memory is as good as hers. Leather gloves are also a new addition, thin enough to maintain good control, thick enough an accidental slip of blade won't be enough to slice open the back of her hands… or so she hopes.
Oddly, if one was to search her backpack, her laptop would NOT be present. Just a large book to fill up the space and size of it. Someone is nervous, indeed.
Adam mms and walks over to a chair. He sits down casually and crosses one leg over the other while sliding the scabbard over his lap. He watches Alia quietly for a few moments and asks, "What?"
Alia stands up, and idly reaches into the book in her backpack, pulling out a simple set of transaction records, showing the slow funneling of funds out of the Linderman group. "Last job." She says out loud, in a quiet, firm tone. "Time changes most. Does it change you?" The most words she's likely said to one person in one phrase in almost a month and a half.
Adam takes the book, presumably and flips through it thoughtfully, looking over it line by line, or so it would appear before he finally says, "Well, that is certainly a lot of money." he puts the book aside on the chair next to him at the question and says, "I suppose so."
Alia looks at Adam quietly, as if trying to judge something she can't quite put her mind around. "Learned much." She doesn't say anything else. "No personal… feelings against you." She frowns. "Just… sense of right and wrong."
Adam tilts his head quizzically, "You're not currently being very coherent." he pauses, "Perhaps you can rephrase yourself."
Alia quietly shakes her head and sighs. "I. Can. Not. Work. For. You. Anymore." The words are said slowly, emphatically.
Adam seems amused by the words, he has a smile and almost opens his mouth before he says, "And why is that?"
Alia looks at Adam, and moves a step, then two steps, closer to the doorway before saying, quite simply, one word. "Shanti."
Adam's movement is quick, fluid, the movement of a man who has been killing people before Alia's great grandparents were even born. He pulls the sword from it's scabbard in a single movement, allowing it to fall to the ground. The sword is raised and in position before it even clatters to the ground and he's on Alia almost immediately.
Alia slides backwards, her own blade leaving it's sheath with fluid grace, a defensive backstep even before the scabbard can clatter off the ground. Back towards the exit. Her eyes focus however on the blade, and avoiding her own immediate demise.
Adam is already on the attack, his blade flicking against Alia's blade in quick, designed strikes. Even more, he's pressing forward, pushing her back towards the exit, but cutting off space so that she has no room to open the door.
Alia parries the attacks efficently, wasting no exessive effort. She watches the strikes, and only backs up when she absolutely has to once the blades start meeting, the clang of live steel a sound much like yet much different from that of the safe blades out in the main portion of the club. Then, it's like someone flips a switch, and Alia attempts something that her blade is more suited for then Adam's is. She tries for a riposte, attacking directly from the parry of one of the strokes of his blade, the point flicking inward at his ribs. Sometimes one must take risk to see reward.
Adam plays this game for a little bit, pushing his blade down as her sword slides that way, then does something that he is uniquely suited for. As her blade points downwards, he pushes into her space, allowing her blade to sink into his side, through the ribs, perhaps even through organs. It's a clean hit, it should end the fight, it should be a fatal blow. But this is Adam and now her blade is trapped. That is not to say that it is not painful, but there is a difference between being in pain and losing. His blade is up and moved to press across her collar bone. His body still moving forward, attempting to pin her to the door.
"First blood?" Alia notes, remembering the earlier terms. Her eyes glitter. "No harm to you… yet." then does the only thing she can do in the situation, which is step away from the blade… but instead of stepping backwards, she steps to the side, twisting her blade, trying to get out from the deadly pressure, even as she tries to continue to speak. "… One missing message, history becomes very public." Not hard to set up, really. She wears a poker face that makes telling if it is bluff or not very difficult.
Adam doesn't care. The twisting of the blade causes noticable pain in his side, but it's pain that he's quite familiar with. Other than that, his face is blank, it's like he hasn't even heard her. His face is pressed near to hers, almost cheek to cheek and he sniffs her of all things, his face moving up and down as his nose travels along the side to her jaw, "Tell them then." he says, "Tell them everything." maybe he cares, maybe he doesn't. At this point, all that seems to matter to him is the blade across her throat and the smell of her.
Alia can't help but smile a little. It's been a long time since she's felt this… alive. The rush of danger, the adrlieniene. "Don't want to." She hisses simply… speaking with a blade against your throat, after all is rather difficult. "Want… both of us… to walk away." she hopes she isn't making a mistake as instead of backing away from the blade, she steps to the side again, this time a bit forward, following the curve of the blade. "And you…" she resists the urge to shake her head, the words becoming very hard to get out of her head. "Would have already. But you have not. why?" The question is odd as parts of it are missing… but she knows Adam could have already taken her throat if he really wanted to. Knew it from the start. All he'd have to do is not care if she landed a hit as well.
Adam presses his cheek against hers, it's intimate, for just that moment. He's quiet, she can hear him breathing, she can feel the strain of his muscles to compensate for the pain. It might be frightening, it might be gratifying, but one word that definitely describes it is efficient. He's been in this position before. He's been in this position many times. He sniffs her again, he leans down and whispers in her ear, "You think you know me because of a story? Because of a report? You think you understand me? You think you can quantify me? Those moments of silence, of boredom between things that stretch out for years, even if they only last for seconds, I've had an eternity of them. I've seen things you will never comprehend, that you don't believe can happen anymore, but they will. I could kill you.." he whispers in her ear, "I've been the last thing more people have seen than a white light." he's quiet and she might even imagine he gives the side of her cheek a kiss, "You don't know me. You don't know what time is like. Even if you manage to grow old." he murmers, "You'll settle because you think death is near. You'll accept it, make peace with the world. But if you had the chance, if you didn't have that choice, you'd admit that this whole world is a ball of shit. It always has been and it always will be." and then he pushes her cheek with his, tilting her head a bit and then hisses in her ear, "And that's still not me. You. Still. Don't. Know. Me." he presses the blade now. It's sharp, it creates the smallest line of blood against her neck where he could push and end it all. It'll leave a mark. A small mark, one that people would have to look for to see, but it'll be there and if nothing else, she'll know it's there. And in that instant, he becomes part of her forever." this time he definitely does kiss her, but this time there's no frenzied intimacy to it. It's like a good night kiss, something entirely platonic, even innocent. Perhaps even just a good bye and he pulls away from her. Her own blade coming out of his ribcage, making sure that blood travels everywhere. On him, on her, on the floor. And yet, even as soon as the blade is out, the flesh under his clothes leaves no mark. He steps away from her and turns to walk over to collect the book and his scabbard, with no apparent concern she'll attack him from behind. "I was going to lay you off anyway." he tells her, "I'm going on a trip."
Alia takes a slow, deep breath as he backs away…then she does something likely very unexpected. She laughs. Not the broken laugh of a shattered mind, but the laugh of someone who is amused with something. "Me? Understand?" she doesn't run out the door… no, she lowers her blade a little, and holds her hand to her side, the laughter hurting more then the cut on her neck. She'll remember this, yes. "No. no illusion of 'understanding'." she pulls out a red cloth from her jacket pocket, and cleans her blade, a practiced motion.
"To understand another, first, must fully know oneself." She waits until Adam has resheathed his blade to put her own away. While HE might not be afraid of an attack from behind, she has good reason to be.