Like Violent Strippers


alexander_icon.gif flint_icon.gif kain_icon.gif liu_icon.gif song_icon.gif

Scene Title Like Violent Strippers
Synopsis Kain and the Triads offer some money to Flint and Alexander for less than legal services. Miraculously, things go well.
Date January 22, 2009

Chinatown, Safe-Drive Used Cars

There's a certain appreciable ambiance in Chinatown that can't be found elsewheres in New York City; that is if one appreciates crowded streets, the stink of too many different types of food from open-air vendors blending poorly together, and all of the creature-comforts of claustrophobia mixed with organized crime. Chinatown is a dirty, noisy, and packed corner of Manhattan that barely stretches a few blocks in any one direction, but manages to have more people in it than a refugee tenement building.

This particular night emphasizes all of those negative traits this neighborhood has, all contained behind closed doors as a used car dealership just off of Canal street, a crowded lot of some thirty used cars surrounded by tall tenement buildings on two sides, an empty lot out back, and a chain link fence surrounded by razorwire out front. This, of all the establishments in the city, is where an invitation-only meeting takes place, to hilight the best qualities of this neighborhood.

The interior of the dealership's office isn't quite what the outside would make it appear. While the front office has a cheap aluminum desk, ticking analogue clock and rolling filing cabinets, the back room looks more like a conference room that would belong in a corporate office, even if a little dingy. Security is tight at the back entrance that leads into the conference room, two asian men in black checking identification, two more on the inside. Worse yet, the amount of guns on the inside, visible in the underarm holsters of the interior security — sans jackets.

Seated at the table, the usual rogues gallery isn't quite what it used to be. A blonde man, looking more like a mechanic thrown into a suit sits with his feet kicked up onto the table and a cigarette burning in his mouth. Long and stringy blonde hair hangs down past his stubbly chin, eyes tilted up towards the door.

Beneath one of the yellowed lights hanging from the ceiling, a young asian woman sits quietly, dressed in a black vinyl bodysuit with lace sleeves, dark hair worn long with straight, low bangs. Something about her seems to give the vibes of everything that is wrong with snakes and spiders.

By her side sits a man that shares many of the same facial features; similar eyes, similar nose and high cheekbones, they could be related. His dark hair is worn more stylishly, cut short and in an intentionally messy cut, though the pinstripe black suit he wears is far more immaculate.

This couldn't be any more mafia.

This is totally the set up for a John Woo movie. Only Al isn't going to enter jumping sideways, gun in each hand, with doves and flames behind him. Though really….he could. He's even practiced crazy wire fu idiocy on his own time. But tonight, he's subdued, quiet, face as expressive as that of a plaster saint's, with the sullen truculence proper for a thug for hire. He's in drab parka, jeans, watchcap, same as ever. Only the blue eyes are bright, with the heat of a gas flame. There's not a hint of his power in evidence, not yet.

Flint has been living in his car/truck/SUV…large vehicle and keeping his ear to the ground so to speak, only not really because the ground is cold and he's taken to pulling a dark blue skull cap down on his just about bald head to keep the top of his head from freezing off. A dark blue hoodie under a thicker green and blue parka that's probably been stolen, jeans and he idly fiddles with a lighter as he enters the area, looking around and staring at all the people, eyebrows shooting up as he doesn't talk. Not yet. Thankfully.

"Well, two's better'n none." The rather relaxed blonde man says in a deep, southern drawl. He draws back a puff off of his cigarette, pushing smoke out through his nose before leaning forward, sweeping his feet off of the table to sit up straight. "Good t'see you decided t'show up, Jesse." More familiar with his working name than with the name friends call him, Kain motions to the bigger, balder man that makes his way in after.

"Well hey there Hoss," Kain croons, tilting his head to the side as he motions to one of the seats, "Why don't you come in an' take a seat Mr.Clean." For a moment, his gaze flicks over to the two quiet people sitting on the opposite side of the table from the empty seats, as if looking for something. Not finding it, he seems more confident, and slouches back into his folding chair with a grin.

"Ah'm jus' gonna cut straight to the chase here, boys. Ah' ain't got time or interest t'be hangin' out here any longer than Ah' gots'ta be." He motions to the two seated nearby with a flourish of one hand. "This here's Liu Ye and Song Ye," To the young man and woman, respectively, "Now this is their turf, an' it's mighty gracious a'them to be hostin' this little shindig."

"Mister Zarek overstates our importance." Liu says calmly, his English heavily-accented by a strong Mandarin influence. "We are merely interested business partners, who wish to ensure that our investment continues to be profitable." There's a smile, a feigned one that doesn't quite reach Liu's eyes as he gives a deferential nod back to Kain.

Kain cracks a half smile and breathes in slowly through his nose, "Cuttin' straight down to the shit of this, Ah'd like t'hire the pair a'ya, provided you can both put out, for a side-project Ah've got brewin." There's a bit of a pause, and Kain's lips curl into a smile, "Either a'you ever heard'a something called the Pancratium?"

Alexander is perfectly pokerfaced, as is his habit when among possibly hostile strangers. "I have not," he says, voice as close to accentless as he can make it. He says nothing beyond that. Clearly Kain's going to need to explain more before he gets a further commitment out of Jesse.

Flint's eyebrows raise as he keeps his hands in his pockets for now, looking from person to person and he has no idea who Kain is talking to really as he sucks his teeth and nods 'politely', even grinning. "Pleasure ta meetcha both Lucy Lu, Singing…Y-err…ya'll nice folks." He's trying to be 'nice' for now, really as he frowns. "…ain't that a part of ya innards? Regulate the sugar or the spice or somethin' like that." He rocks back on his heels.

"The Pancratium" Liu strains the word out, brow tensing as he hears Flint speak, as if the very notion seems to visibly pain the man, "is our investment, as it were." Liu picks up where Kain left off, head canting to one side slowly as his dark eyes sweep from Flint to Alexander, and for just a moment there's a tension in his brow when he peers at the telekinetic, as if he can't place where he recognizes a face from. The scars must thrown him off. "It is a no-holds-barred cagefighting organization, privately funded and privately operated. Evolved participants, primarily."

Glancing to Liu, Kain gives a nod, then looks back and forth between Flint and Alexander, "We're wantin' t'hire people with abilities, people that can take a beating an' dish one out. We ain't gonna' care if you break a few necks or maim a few guys. Consider it practice if'n that's what'cha want. We're linin' up people to be regular competitors. The pay is based on gambling, an' you get a cut of the profits in the fights you paritcipate in. S'like backroom boxing, but with — fuck, Ah'dunno — superman n'shit."

Liu gives a faintly pained smile to Kain at his description, and shakes his head. "It is profitable, and as safe as work such as this can be. We have a few… medical hands, that will be keeping our fighters in top shape. But I will note that none of this is legal, but if you gentlemen are both here I imagine that is not much concern to either of you." There's another mild smile, "Before we go any further, does this disinterest either of you?"

Alexander blinks slowly. The scars are blessedly much fainter than they were, courtesy of Sonny. But still distinctive. "No," he says, quietly. If anything, there's a gleam of interest kindling at the back of his pale gaze. Money. He's never had enough, and this is a way to make more than he has merely driving a cab.

"I ain't never gonna say no to money, plain and simple, I gots responsibiliteez and shi' I gotta be takin' care of. I don't got no time to be applying for stuff, but is you talkin' about beating up on folks and gettin' paid like really violent strippers?" Flint needs clarification, a dangerous glint in his eye, it is an excited glint even. "Does we get to fight Jackie Chan? I den always wanted to see what it's like to barbeque Kung Pao chicken!"

Song, who had remained quiet up until this point, pushes a distressed sigh out of her nose as she slouches in her seat and rests her head in one hand. Liu almost mimics the motion, but manages to keep his composure, lips cracking into something of a rueful smile, shooting a glance to Kain as if to say you sure know how to pick them. Because Flint, clearly, is somehow Kain's fault.

"Really violent strippers, that's a bit more up Logan's alley, but…" Kain laughs to himself, plucking his cigarette from his lips, pinched between two fingers as he gestures with it to Flint, then Alexander. "Yeah, you're basically gonna' get paid to beat the ever-lovin' sweet mary sunshine outta' whoever gets thrown inta' the ring with you. You bust your head in there, s'our own dumb fault, bit Ah' can tell you now you're gonna' be rakin' in the cash, dependin' on what it is you do." With that, Kain looks to Liu and Song expectantly, "You kids wanna start the demonstration?"

Liu nods slowly, standing up from his chair as he pushes it back with his legs, straightening his tie with one hand. "Gentlemen. I would like for confirmation, before we go any further with this, a demonstration of your ability." He motions with one hand towards a water-cooler at the edge of the room, and it begins to bubble. A moment later, the water starts to drain out, snaking and coiling through the air like a worm. The entire cooler bubbles and burbles empty, formed into a sphere in the air over the table, dripping tiny droplets of water in its wake. The sphere splits down the middle, with a motion of Liu's joined hands parting, as if it were the red sea.

Each half of the sphere floats to become a pair of domes, with flat bottoms. As they do, Song rises from her chair, breathing in a deep breath before stepping forward and exhaling a cloud of white fog from her lips, frost forming over them like a thin sheen of lipgloss. When the cloud hits the water, it freezes in a few crackling moments into a pair of ice domes, which are then lowered down to the table with heavy clunks.

"If you could demonstrate your ability, to these targets." Liu states, stepping back from the table, hands folded behind his back. "We may proceed."

Al wastes no words. Without a change of expression, one of the ice domes whips to his upraised hand like a falcon to its master's glove. He holds it up, glittering under the lights, before sending it wheeling around the room. It hovers amidst the center of those gathered. And explodes as if struck by a hammer, only to have the fragments stop, a spherical constellation of shards that glitters in the empty air, before a contemptuous gesture from Al releases them, and they rain to the floor.

Flint's hands slip out of his pocket as he squints at Kain, trying to understand this all as clearly as possible before snorting and shaking his head. Then his smart-ass remark is cut-off as he watches Lucy Liu and Singing Other Chinese Person make with the power-fu and he just whistles, a long and drawn out sound. That's before Al turns into Magneto vs Ice Water. "Hooooleeeesheeeeeeeeeeeit."

He brings his hands together to clap 3 times, it could even be considered sarcastic as he guffaws and then lets his hands fall to his sides, fingers curling into fists before there is that lovely cracklingrev like sound the always proceeds a match being lit, just magnified as his hands are completely covered in blue flames and he snerks. "How's that song go again…Chester's Nuts Roastin' up on an open fiiiiire." Then there is a WHOOOOOOOOOOOOSH as he brings his hands up and aims one towards the sphere, stream of blue fire taking out the frozen water pretty damn quickly. STOP, Puddle time.

Song takes an immediate step back once the flames ripple down Flint's arms, her eyes growing wide and lips parting. There's a haze of cold mist that slips out of her nose and mouth as she moves to stand slightly behind and to the side of Liu, one spidery hand of long fingers coming up to rest on his shoulder, eyes half-lidded in a distrusting expression. She leans in, lips moving in cold, hushed whospers to his ear before she draws back to silent observation.

"Well fuck me sideways boys!" Kain will never admit to flinching both when Alexander shattered the dome, and when Flint lit up like a goddamned barbecue grill, but he did and it was obvious. "Ah' don' know about Ping an' Pong here," He cracks Liu a smile, "But Ah' think that you two're about as good as hired." Kain rises up from his chair, looking again to Liu who silently, gloweringly, nods his head in agreement to Kain's words. "Well that there settles it." He says with a broad grin, folding his arms as he circles around the table.

"Ah' got a boy you need t'get in touch with, goes by the name of Muldoon. He's out in a neighborhood on Staten Island called the Rookery." There's a tilt of Kain's head, and a flick of his wrist as he holds out a piece of paper, then slides his fingers revealing it to be a pair of identical slips of paper. "There's an address there for a whorehouse called the Lucky Dagger." A crooked grin slips past, "You jus' go on there and ask around for 'em, and people'll direct ya his way. He'll get you in touch with the head honchos."

"Sounds like a dyke bar," Al observes, without a flicker of humor in his expression. "Understood. Muldoon, Staten Island, the Rookery, the Dagger," he parrots back, the reflexive reiteration of someone who's been both soldier and cop. "Any particular hours, other than not daylight?"

Flint glances over towards Song, tongue darting out to swipe over his top lip as he mimes blowing her a kiss, hand still all alit with his inner glow so there's a tiny flair of flame before he laughs a deep, throaty laugh, snickering and looking over to Kain. "Ah got the job? Well hot /dayum/." One hand goes out as he slaps his thigh and chuckles, obviously pleased with himself and then his other hand goes out when there is a piece of paper to grab and he holds up his hands in a warding type of gesture. "Muldoon, Rook'ry on Staten…Dagger, what in the hell kinda name is Muldoon? Seriously /what in the hell/?" Then he just blinks. "Oh whatthehellever, he end up bein' a freak, I'll must flambe his mulberry bush…gimme the paper Buck Norris." He holds out a hand and sighs, shaking his head.

"Whenever you feel like it, Hoss." Kain cracks a smile and slinks around towards the other side of the room, returning his cigarette to his lips with a long, luxurious drag. "Ain't a matter out there, no cops gonna' be dumb enough to go out to th' Rookery. Even SCOUT's done gone and abandoned all hope'a gettin' in there. Last Ah' heard, Staten Island was a lost cause, at least for now."

Liu and Song both dip their heads into low and silent bows, Liu's a bit more tense and tense than Song's, even despite her aversion to Flint's flames. Though Kain eyes Flint with a side-long and incredulous look for a moment. Is this room outnumbered by Hicks? It's dubious whether he includes himself in that or not.

The papers arew both handed out, and Kain nods his head to the door, "Ball's in ya'lls court now. Do with it wha'cha want. Now get on outta' here, before y'wear out y'welcome." Smoke blows out of Kain's nostrils from the exhaled cigarette, lips cracked into a smile, though at this point it isn't an honest one at all.

Alexander inclines his head, almost regally, to those present. And then turns to make his way out, without a backwards glance or a further word.

Flint looks tickled pink, adjusting his cap and grinning to himself and bobbing his head in agreement. "Thank ya kindly." He tips an invisible hat and saunters out, whistling dixie. - Okay, no, really he's whistling 'put a ring on it' but still.

When the door finally closes, Liu Ye turns slowly to look at Kain, one dark brow rising as if to question what just walked out the door. Kain smirks, shrugging his shoulders as he takes another drag off of the cigarette, "Don't know," he says in a low tone, "Don't care." His head slowly tips to one side, letting blonde hair spill down the side of his face from behind one ear.

"If they survive their first fight, then it'll matter."

January 22nd: Round And Round We Go

Previously in this storyline…
Upstairs, Two Doors Down

Next in this storyline…
The Ol' Reacharound

January 22nd: How Bad
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