Lord Doom
Neutral 
Doom's word is law.
Posts: 33 
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Post by Lord Doom on Apr 29, 2017 15:02:02 GMT -5
As Doom let Loki brush her hand against his scarred cheek, allowing her to kiss him with as much warmth as she did, he could not help but have a moment's pause before he then kissed her just as deeply back, wrapping his arms around her middle.
He could not help but consider the words that William Shakespeare had written so very long ago, almost poetically applying.
"She loved me for the dangers I had passed. And I loved her that she did pity them..." he said softly after the kiss had broken.
Never had a work of complete fiction felt so real than in such a moment to Lord Doom.
All of this was such a whirl of emotion for him. He had rarely experienced this love, certainly not since Loki had departed. And now to have it all come flooding back...it would have been too much for a lesser man with a weaker strength of will. But Doom was resilient. Doom would endure.
Doom.
Always Doom.
And now Loki was returned to him, the Persephone within his Underworld yet again as he cast his judgment over the unnumbered dead. If so many years of war had disrupted anything of Doom's sense of stability, it was the absence of Loki. Or of anyone like her. Male or female, she was his friend and other times the only woman he could ever abide in the manner he did. She meant something to him, more than he could ever adequately describe. And he knew that Loki understood as much, and did not press him to.
A sound was heard in the lower street, his troops mobilizing as had been his command. The hour had come at last for HYDRA to make their move, then.
Doom turned to Loki and his eyes grew almost...gleeful. Revenge was within his grasp. The daughter of his enemy would soon be his once again, and this unlike most other things that existed in most planes of existence amused the Lord of Latveria.
"It shall be such a tableau to behold," he said as he looked his troops over as the gates were beginning to part below, "Worthy indeed of Shakespeare or of Rabeleis..."
He paused for a moment.
"Or Von Doom."
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Loki
Neutral
No. Mischief is a small thing, a toy I've well used and discarded. This isn't mischief. This is mayh
Posts: 32 
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Post by Loki on May 11, 2017 13:25:27 GMT -5
The frost giant felt her icy heart flutter as she heard Doom utter those words, pressing her forehead against his own. Loki's heart did not often melt, but she was a sucker for wordsmithing, being a wordsmith herself. The words were not his own, but they were nonetheless so poetically crafted, they were hard not to go weak for. She breathed a soft, pleasant sigh and leaned her head against Doom's chest to listen to the sound of his heart beat.
It had been far too long since she had been in his arms. Far too long. And now, would he ever accept the reason for her absence. She may have been a god, but she was far from perfection. She shuddered to think what he might think of her if she ever told him why she was gone for twelve years. No, she wouldn't tell him. Not yet. When the time was right, if it was ever right. For now, she was contented to just let the moment be as it was, as she could see it. A moment, crystallized in perfection. A woman in the arms of the man she loved, after so long apart.
She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this, in the arms of anyone. Contented, safe, and at the same time inexplicably vulnerable. She surely couldn't remember the last time she let herself feel so vulnerable. In Asgard, for the trickster, vulnerability was a curse. The Trickster couldn't be vulnerable. The Trickster had to be a monster. Loki had to be a monster. But here? It was different.
Perhaps Midgard was growing on her, or perhaps it was just the company of someone she had grown so fond of, but it was nice not to be viewed as the root of all evil. People had moved on from their pagan ways, and while it was a struggle to find worshippers now, it meant there were fewer souls blaming him for their problems. It was a nice burden off his shoulders. Of course, Asgard made sure to make up for that deficit. She unconsciously touched her lips at the thought of the vision she'd had and burrowed her cheek into Doom's chest a little more. There were more reasons than just those she kept secret that she wanted to be on Midgard.
The sound in the lower street jolted her from her thoughts and brought a smile to her lips. Midgard, for all its benefits to her current affairs, made her weak. Her powers were not at the strength they could be. But the chaos. That delicious chaos. It strengthened her. She could feel the chaos energy coursing through her body like her very life force was on fire. She leaned against the railing of the balcony and peered over the edge, using her own brand of sorcery to better see the troops fall into formation.
"Worthy of Von Doom indeed," she said in an awed tone. She couldn't help her enthrallment with the movement of his army. It warmed parts of her that she wouldn't have expected.
She turned to face him, a mischievous grin on her face. "Shall I join them and bring back your prize?"
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Arachne
Neutral
I didn't think I'd make it... And I was right. Again.
Posts: 41
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Post by Arachne on May 22, 2017 6:08:57 GMT -5
It was cold. Cold and snowy and terribly miserable. Jessica had spent the entire drive out in silence, mentally preparing for this mission of hers. Her transport had dropped her off not quite five kilometers from the rendezvous point for the weapon exchange. She hiked the rest of the way in on foot, although hiked wasn’t truly correct. Where she could, Jessica traveled from tree to tree, making sure to leave little to no sign of her passing. The last thing she needed was to be spotted. Upon arriving, she decided to go a little further and locate the positions of the men Viper had assigned as lookout and hopefully backup in case everything went to hell.
Once that was all handled and the area was mapped in her mind, Jessica returned to the exchange point and waited. That’s all she really could do. Much of a spy’s life was to wait and watch, with maybe only ten percent being actual action. It also gave her time to think and look around. From her vantage point, she could easily look into Latveria. It looked no different than where she was sitting. Forests and mountains, probably with streams and lakes like any other European country. It wasn’t a hellscape with screaming masses and demons whipping peasants. Another pleasant thing was that she couldn’t see Doomstadt. It was much too far away. However, despite all that normalcy and the enemy’s capital city being hidden, it was still unnerving to be so close to Doom’s country. Jessica shivered, though she played it off as a chill from the weather creeping through her uniform and camouflage.
The wait was the worse part, but by the time dusk began to make itself know, she heard the approach of vehicles. What was it about arms deals that made them happen under the cover of darkness and in remote areas? Were they ashamed of what they were doing? That’s all Jessica could assume. She waited for the men to fully arrive and get settled before beginning her silent approach. Depending on the number and amount of artillery they had, she could probably take them all out and have the weapons removed at her leisure. Barring that, she’d take the largest supply truck and get the hell out of there.
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Post by Artie Cade on May 30, 2017 16:32:01 GMT -5
What a stupid, terrible day.
If he could trust any of these mooks he kept around to know how to negotiate a better deal, Artie wouldn't have to find himself bundled up in his large overcoat, a scarf, gloves, a ridiculous fur hat, any of this.
But, he had to get this supply of weapons directly to this Von Doom guy. At least Mystique was with him. Of that he wasn't too miffed.
He shivered in the night air and leaned up against her as the trio of military vehicles pressed on toward the Latverian border.
"This place..." he growled, "...is the worst."
And as far as he was concerned, it was.
He'd been commissioned special for this degree of customized weaponry. He assumed Von Doom had figured out who he was from his contacts with the Allies during the Second World War. He'd spent a long time making custom weapons and tanks and what have you for the US government, and no doubt this Doom character wanted some of that for himself. But he'd been even more specific in what he required. Thankfully he had offered to pay well or Artie would have told him to go pound sand. Or snow, whatever these people had here.
When the trucks got to the border, they formed into a line of three, Artie's main truck in the center, and the other two on the sides.
"Well thank fuck for small miracles," Artie grunted as he hopped out of the truck and limped toward the front of it, "I think my tailbone is somewhere halfway up my spine."
He lit a cigarette and looked out in the night. This was the rendezvous point. But where was everybody? Late? No way. Lost? Maybe. But wasn't this their land?
"Mystique?" he called back, "You know anything about this Doom guy? He frequently late? He prone to springing traps? Did I just get us killed because that would be annoying."
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Mystique
Villains 
Raven Darkholme is not a woman to be trifled with.
Posts: 107
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Post by Mystique on May 30, 2017 23:08:53 GMT -5
Mystique was hardly faring any better than Artie was, wearing a large white fur coat, her own ridiculous fur hat, gloves, and cream colored scarf, but at least she could shift her mass to give herself a little more heat. She stepped off the transport and wrapped her arms around him to help keep him warm, glancing around.
Well, if this was Doom's operation, it was surprisingly sloppy. There was no-one here. This was where they agreed to meet, so where was everyone? This didn't seem right to her. Something was up.
"Something isn't right," she muttered to herself. "Doom is never late. Latveria is the only country in the world the trains run on time. He's meticulous." She thought for a moment, then finally, "I don't think he would have set a trap for us. If you're supplying him with weapons, he would have no reason to trap you."
She let him go and paced around the site for a moment, looking around for any signs of a trap. Any flashes of light that might have been reflected off a sniper's scope, or any disturbance in the ground around them.
What she ended up doing was staring off to the west. Toward Germany.
She couldn't get the idea that her son was alive out of her head. If he was, he was somewhere in Germany. She was so close to him, but so far away.
Her heart was breaking, knowing the possibility of finding him was so minute that it might as well be impossible.
But he was somewhere out there.
Her Kurt.
She stood, staring off on the horizon, nearly forgetting the reason they were there.
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Arachne
Neutral
I didn't think I'd make it... And I was right. Again.
Posts: 41
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Post by Arachne on Jun 7, 2017 22:35:47 GMT -5
The weapon dealers were… a disappointment, and that was being kind. Arachne had expected them to be military men, large and imposing, with a convoy of armed guards to protect them. Instead, she was given two people that looked entirely out of place in this setting. The first one to get out of the truck looked as if he were about to freeze, even under his extravagant amount of layers and that stupid hat. He was small, enough that Arachne almost thought he was a young boy, at least until he started to smoke. Then she thought he was a teenage boy. But once he opened his mouth, the tone and gruffness of his voice added decades to him. He walked with a pronounced limp, more than what the snow would cause, and from what words she could make out, he was the impatient sort.
The second dealer, Mystique was the name the short man used, was a jumble of things as well. Dressed in her own ensemble of layers and matching stupid hat, the woman moved easier in the snow, as if she were used to it. A native? Her voice did have enough of an accent to tell she was European; Polish, German, or parts further east, but Arachne would need to get closer in order to discern he exact origins. She didn’t have her mother’s ear for European accents. She needed to change that at some point.
Snapping out of those thoughts, Arachne noticed how the woman was more observant than the man. She actually looked around, as if searching for trouble. Arachne held her breath as the woman glanced her way. Yes, she was high up in the thick branches of an evergreen, but the woman was not normal. Once her face was towards her, Arachne saw the blue of her skin; a sight that almost made her fall out of the tree in surprise. A mutant? Or was she another of Doom’s experiments, sent to escort this man to the weapons deal. Her guess was immediately shown to be false by her dialogue. She was with the man. Arachne did a quick count, estimating that there were six people at most in this little convoy, maybe nine in case there were any in the back of the trucks.
Climbing down silently from her perch, Arachne made her way quickly and quietly towards the truck nearest her. She could knock out the driver and be victorious with just one truck’s worth of weapons, but why stop there? Why not get all three? She had been at Doom’s long enough to pass as one of his and, looking down at her camouflaged uniform, there were no distinguishing marks to show her allegiance to HYDRA. And, from what she could hear, the dealer’s sounded like Doom was a new client. She could talk her way through most of the deal and, giving the appropriate signal, have her backups come and drive away with everything.
Standing up straight, Arachne pulled her hair back into a bun and, taking a breath, walked out from behind the truck. “It is not wise to question the will of Lord Doom,” she spoke, sounding superior and in control of the situation. “Nor is it smart to think that he would ever do something so beneath him as to lay a trap for partners in business. We have been here for quite some time. It was simply prudent for us to watch you as you arrived. As weapon dealers, I would assume you know about the,” she paused, allowing herself a small smirk. “Dwindling conflict between Doom’s forces and the remnants of HYDRA, yes? We needed to make sure the area was secured after your arrival. Their leader would try anything to get her hands on these weapons, after all. Now, are you here to critique the ruler of Latveria or to do business?”
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Post by Artie Cade on Jun 15, 2017 2:00:20 GMT -5
Artie hadn't been prepared for this new arrival. He gave a slight start at her voice before she appeared. Turning to look at her, he was admittedly...surprised? This was the agent Doom sent to grab his goods and complete their business? She had to be Jessica's age, maybe. Sure age didn't denote competency but...still.
It struck him as an odd arrangement.
"Oh I'll critique all night and day," Artie grumbled, "This place is a hellhole. You'll forgive me if I offload this shit to ya then get outta here."
He paused and dramatically bowed in a mock half curtsy to the girl.
"If Lord Doom would not object."
This seemed....a curious situation. Artie stood up straight again and looked the taller young woman up and down for a moment before he ashed his cigarette then put it to his lips again.
"Soooo..." he growled, "Your Lord Doom sends one little liaison to take three truck's worth of weapons?"
That was stranger still. He turned his head and looked around, surveying the outlying landscape.
All seemed still. Peculiarly so.
Artie's eyes dashed back up to the girl.
"You got some kind of ID?" he smirked, "A pretty face is a welcome face, but I never trust em on that alone."
He tapped his tin mask covering half of his face and let out an oily chuckle.
"A name and payment and I'll be outta your hair. Just gotta confirm before I sign anything over, Miss...?" he asked slowly. Surely if he got a name that might at least complete the business.
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Mystique
Villains
Raven Darkholme is not a woman to be trifled with.
Posts: 107
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Post by Mystique on Jun 20, 2017 14:56:09 GMT -5
Mystique was almost exceedingly cautious of this person. She didn't act like one of Doom's soldiers. Not from the stories she'd heard, anyway. Sure, things could be exaggerated, and she was complimentary enough of Doom. She was official. But there was still something off about her. Being a spy, she could tell when someone wasn't being entirely truthful, and she was getting that vibe from this girl... whoever she was.
But then she shivered, and she was reminded that she didn't much care one way or the other if she was for real or not. It was too cold, and she didn't want to spend any more time here than was absolutely necessary.
She wrapped her arms around Artie again, leaning over to whisper to him, "Let's get out of here." She sounded like her mind was somewhere else entirely, and it was. Her mind was still in Germany where her son might be. "I know a wonderful bar in Munich we should visit on the way home. And it'll be warmer than here."
She eyed the woman in front of them, waiting at least for a name. As long as they could hurry this up so they could spend some more alone time together, she didn't much care WHAT she said. It could be true or not, but she had decided as long as these weapons were delivered, she didn't care to who. She had no love for Doom, that much was certain.
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Arachne
Neutral
I didn't think I'd make it... And I was right. Again.
Posts: 41
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Post by Arachne on Jun 21, 2017 23:33:10 GMT -5
“A hellhole?” Arachne let herself smile again and nodded. “True, what you say is correct. This side of the rive is most assuredly a hellhole. Occupied by HYDRA and whatever rebels still remain. However? The far bank is where paradise lies. Latveria, and its ever expanding borders.” Though every instinct screamed not to do it, she turned away from the two visitors in order to gaze upon her ‘home’. Doom’s people would not be afraid to do such a thing, so why would she hesitate to act as one of them? The view was beautiful, even if she knew was lay within those borders. “So long as you maintain your end of the bargain, Lord Doom will have no objections,” she answered, turning around in time to see the man’s mock curtsy.
That action caused Arachne to raise an eyebrow. He was an ignorant one, this man. He enjoyed toeing the line and seeing what he could get away with. At least his companion was polite and respectful enough to know how to behave. “Lord Doom sent one liaison to be visible while the deal is made. Too many people standing around may draw unwanted attention. Once the deal is made, my compatriots will come and commandeer the trucks and their contents. As for identification and the notion of whether or not I can handle this?” Arachne walked over to the rear bumper of one of the trucks. Using one hand, she gripped the frame and lifted the vehicle slowly and carefully, allowing it to rotate on its front wheels. After a moment, she lowered it back into place and calmly looked back at the man, hoping to see that cigarette of his fall into the snow.
“Is that enough to show how well this pretty face operates? If not, how about this?” She strode over to the shorter man, getting right within his personal space and looming over him. “Vaduva Neagra, Master Intelligence Officer for the Armies of the Empire of Latveria. Lord Victor von Doom’s eyes and ears.” Amazingly enough, her tongue didn’t stick tot he roof of her mouth when she said the man’s name, though she did wonder if his magic worked like in the fairy stories her mother told her when she was little and he knew when his name was spoken out loud. Arachne hoped that wouldn’t be the case. “Payment will be given once the items have been inspected, approved of, and are firmly in Latverian territory. Not before them, Mr…” If he could play this intimidation game, so could she.
“Perhaps we could hurry this along faster? I don’t think you’d want your companion to turn anymore blue than she already is.” Yes, distract him with something different and help move everything along. Keep him off balance. That was the key to success. She was tempted to try her pheromones, but Arachne was currently so tense that she doubted she could release anything that would calm him into trusting her, and making him fearful was definitely out of the question.
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Post by Artie Cade on Jun 22, 2017 16:42:05 GMT -5
Having initially been unimpressed by a lady this young being anything to somebody like Victor Von Doom, Artie had a sudden...change of heart about the situation. Rarely did much surprise him anymore and with the family he'd built up around him one would assume he would be overly prepared for people to exhibit some sort of power around him.
But even so, these things did surprise him. Almost constantly.
The cigarette fell out of his mouth, making a faint hiss in the snow as it was snuffed out.
He stared for some time as this girl lifted the car then proceeded to loom over him, in much the same way his Jessica would if she were angry with him. Artie had never quite gotten used to that. Coupled with the frigid air and this frustrating foreign place, he was quite ready to have this business done. It wasn't worth the risk this girl wasn't bulletproof too...and he wasn't about to start any trouble outside of his own turf, so many miles back.
"W-well, uh...!" he stammered as he took a step back from the girl, "Ms. Neagra, I-I'm Artie Cade....it's a, uh, a pleasure."
He managed a stifled, nervous chuckle as he tipped his hat.
"Then, let's, uh, let's...get this inspection tended to, huh?"
Artie limped over to the back of the truck he was set against and pulled open the doors, gesturing to the crates inside. He hopped in and pried off one of the wood lids, revealing a compact version of a bazooka.
"This little beauty..." he said as he began to pet it in his arms like a kitten, "Is my own variation of the more traditional M1. Consider it like a uh...sawed off shotgun, if you will."
He withdrew one of the projectiles and held it up.
"Much easier to conceal, ya can keep the projectiles on a leather band I've included at noooo extra charge."
Setting the weapon back into the crate, he withdrew a pistol, with a long barrel.
"Now this," he began as he twirled it expertly, "Was requested by Lord Doom specifically, a more accurate, longer range version of the P-08 Luger. I've adjusted the clips to be able to fit right up inside more like a machine gun. Fires just as fast, too, no more single bursts. Close range or further range, it's all accuracy."
Artie tossed the pistol to Neagra along with a clip for her inspection before he jumped down to move to one of the other larger trucks, opening one of the doors to reveal a sheet covering treads.
"Now this here..." he grinned, "...is something special. If he likes it I'll have more sent over. Consider it a personal tank. Calls for only one driver, fast as a motorcycle and sturdy as a Panzer. No need to swivel a turret on top, the guns are mounted on the sides and the two tires rotate, plus they're thick enough to remain stationary if you're setting up for a battle so no leaning like a bike."
He leaned on the back of the truck and looked back over at Neagra.
"So...whaddaya think?"
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Arachne
Neutral
I didn't think I'd make it... And I was right. Again.
Posts: 41
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Post by Arachne on Jul 24, 2017 23:23:33 GMT -5
Listing up the truck had gotten her desired result. Arachne would have smiled, but doing so would likely have blown her cover. She would have to celebrate this little victory later. Perhaps over breakfast with her mother. “It is indeed a pleasure, Mr. Cade. Lord Doom has spoken well of you.” Intimidation with just a bit of reassurance, enough to hopefully put him back at ease.
Following him to the rear of the truck, Arachne quietly inspected the weapons he showed her. To tell the truth, she was no expert in weapons. Not when it really mattered. She was able to disassemble, clean, and reassemble handguns and rifles, but Viper had been insistent that she not handle weapons unless absolutely necessary. It was mainly do to her being so protective during the war, and afterwards? Well, besides being able to crumple barrels and rifle stocks in her hands, Arachne came equipped with her own long range weapons. Nonetheless, she acted as if she knew what was what. “Sawed off shotguns have limited range and accuracy. Does this carry the same problems? Concealment is nice, but if it loses accuracy after a short range… Using bazookas at pointblank range is never smart.”
Catching the pistol, Arachne looked down its sight lines before inserting the clip. It went in surprisingly smooth. Viper would definitely be interested in this. “Very nice.” But it was the tank that caught her eye the most. It was an ingenious machine, one that would certainly give them the upper hand against Doom and his men. “You are a wonder, Mr. Cade. I can see why Lord Doom employs you. We will definitely be thanking you for your weaponry as we continue our fight against those that would oppose us.” Arachne gave the short man a little smile. “I think we have a deal,” she told him, offering her hand as a way to seal the deal.
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Lord Doom
Neutral
Doom's word is law.
Posts: 33
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Post by Lord Doom on Jul 29, 2017 18:08:58 GMT -5
Nothing escaped Doom's gaze once he turned his thoughts to it.
Nothing.
No one.
He sat on the large wrought iron throne at the far end of the main hall of Castle Doom with his gauntleted hands clasped on front of his face. His eyes closed. His mind far away.
In his visions, Doom saw what had been transpiring. What Loki was concocting. He would normally be opposed to this tactic, but he was in no hurry to acquire the HYDRA girl. Not with this recent stunt she was attempting.
So this was his weapons designer, this...Arthur Cade. He seemed a half formed tinkerer and yet the weapons he had created were unlike anything even Doom had seen in the many realities and planes of existence he had visited. Let HYDRA see them.
For so had Doom.
One accompanied the inventor. A blue woman with golden eyes. He reached into her mind and discovered that it was troubled. She called herself Mystique. Her mind was dwelling on....a child. Her son.
Doom sat up straighter in his seat, ever so slowly. He called out with his mind.
"Mystique..." his voice echoed and whispered in her head, "Do not be afraid. I am Victor Von Doom. I have been watching this unfold. Do not make any sudden movements or acknowledge my presence here. It is only you and I. You shall come to no harm, I swear it."
Then, Doom wove images in her mind of her son Kurt. He was in the church that Doom had sent him to, in very fine health and certainly in no danger.
"This is what you seek," Doom's voice echoed, "This is your Kurt. Your son. I have kept him for you. Long have I awaited the return of the one who could give life to such an extraordinary child in our parts of the world."
The visions flashed. Showing Kurt's location.
Germany.
"Safe passage will be granted to you," his voice whispered gently, "If you wish to reunite with him. Call it a gesture of good will from the Lord of Latveria for your services alongside Mr. Cade. Victor Von Doom is generous to those who ally themselves closely. Seek out the boy, if you wish. He wonders of you often. And remember this kindness that Doom has granted you."
With that, Doom's mind left hers calmly like a soft breeze, returning to his own consciousness before extending out again in the form of a phantom. The shape of Doom. Standing far within the trees from where Arachne stood.
So that only she might see him. If she would believe it.
Doom was not above inserting his own torment onto the girl.
The shape of Doom stood there, unmoving in the dark. Watching her. Watching only her, invisible to all other eyes.
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Mystique
Villains
Raven Darkholme is not a woman to be trifled with.
Posts: 107
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Post by Mystique on Aug 1, 2017 13:07:49 GMT -5
As the deal went on, Mystique made an attempt to keep warm. If there as one thing she didn't miss about this part of the world, it was the cold. And she was surprised that Artie was so willing to expose himself to the cold the way he was. He hated the cold more than she did.
She drew her coat around herself and breathed into her gloves to warm her hands, looking out over the landscape. She was mostly checking to see if there were any soldiers hidden among the trees, and she was shocked to see that there weren't. What kind of deal was this that the person they were meeting didn't bring any backup to bring the weapons into Latveria?
But the truth was, she didn't care. That wasn't the reason she came. She came because she was convinced she could find her son somewhere out there in the cold.
She looked out over the west, where Germany lay, and fantasized about her son. How he might look at this age. He would be fourteen now. Would the world have forgiven him for the way he looked? She found it hard to believe that Germany would be very accepting. It wasn't of her. How could it be of him?
Then she heard a voice. It told her not to make any sudden movements, and she froze where she was, staring out over Germany. Soon enough, the visions came and she watched in awe as she saw her son. Kurt. Her mouth hung open, and she made a soft, squeaking sound of shock that she couldn't quite help. He was in Germany. He was in Germany. More than that, she knew where in Germany he was. Tears sprang to her eyes as she watched her son through the eyes of Victor Von Doom. He offered her safe passage to see him. He offered to let her take him home.
Once the visions faded and the voice was gone, she turned to Artie and wiped her face.
"Do you .... do you mind if we wrap this up?" she asked. "I have an .... an errand in Germany I'd like to do before we go home."
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Post by Artie Cade on Aug 6, 2017 19:45:34 GMT -5
Artie was allllll too glad to be completing this terrible business in this terrible place with this ridiculous kid.
They made kids too tall these days.
Still, he nodded and patted Neagra heartily on the back, or as heartily as he could manage.
"Good!" he said with a wide grin, "Excellent, glad ya like 'em. Nooooo issues with range among anything I've brought ya. After all, you're working on war games aren't ya?"
He permitted himself a chuckle as he rubbed his hands together, delighted this had gone well. Usually his international sales were small and certainly didn't promise the kind of money that this would bring in.
"All right SO...!" he said as he withdrew a small notepad he had totaled the price on, "I've got it marked down as, altogether, 356,361 leu. Your lord had mentioned price was no object. Buuuuut I like ya and all things considered, this went fast so I'll round it down to 350,000 even. Sound fair? How do ya wanna get that to me here-"
He was interrupted for a moment when Mystique spoke. His grin faded and he looked up at her quizzically.
"....Germany?" he asked, looking back at his buyer, "Oh uh....yeah sure, we can do that. Of course!"
Artie's salesmanship picked up again as the grin reformed and he clapped his hands.
"Just gotta pick up our pay and we'll be outta here, uh BOYS!" he called to the four men driving the other trucks, "Start unloadin' the merch, make it quick!"
His boys did as they were told, taking down the back of one of the trucks and beginning to offload the merchandise onto one of the others to consolidate it all together. He'd just give 'em the truck, why not?
"I'll throw the truck in for free, I thiiiiiink it'll all fit...." he mused.
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Arachne
Neutral
I didn't think I'd make it... And I was right. Again.
Posts: 41
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Post by Arachne on Aug 8, 2017 21:59:16 GMT -5
“Yes, just war games, Mr. Cade,” Arachne answered as he slapped her on that back. She moved forward a little bit, a motion done out of habit. Since her powers manifested, Arachne found herself not reacting to certain physical actions like most other people. It was certainly off-putting to her fellow agents if she was not affected by most things, so she had learned to give off ‘normal tells’. It also helped her blend in with crowds, not that she was allowed out much. Still, she kept up the practice, and if this little bit of movement put the smaller man at ease, so much the better.
“A discount? Lord Doom will be pleased to hear that you are so generous, Mr. Cade. As for the money? It is waiting, in full, in a third party wire transfer account.” Without warning, Arachne took his notepad and pencil and began writing down a series of numbers, along with a false name. “All you need do is visit the Graubündner Kantonalbank in Zurich, Switzerland. Give the teller this account number with this name and it is yours. I apologize if it is a disappointment that I do not have a briefcase full of money, as I believe Americans are fond of that image, but Lord Doom knows that traveling between borders with large sums of money in hand would draw attention, and I doubt a man like you would want such scrutiny.” She allowed herself a small smile, as if to say she knew exactly what sort of man Cade was.
His attention drawn to his companion asking about Germany allowed Arachne a moment to look around and think of how best to get this weaponry away before Doom’s force appeared. A figure among the trees, however, caught her attention, causing her to pale in shock almost immediately. She recognized the form easily, the moonlight glinting off the metal armor only increased her nerves. Doom was here? Was this a trap? Something he had planned all along? Instinctively, she took a few steps back, bumping into the truck as it was being loaded. And yet the figure did not advance. No forces emerged from the woods, and no giant of a woman came running at her, hoping to cave her chest in with a single blow. “Go away,” she breathed, barely a whisper. “You’re not here.”
The slam of the truck’s tailgate caused Arachne to spin around suddenly, body ready to attack if the situation called for it. Instead, she was confronted by the confused looks of Cade’s men. Taking a deep, shuddering, breath, Arachne closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down. The ruse was almost over. All she needed to do was last until the American and his people were out of here, then she could return home triumphantly.
And then curl into a little ball on her bed, telling herself that Doom could not get her.
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