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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Jan 22, 2012 18:34:34 GMT -5
OOC: Month 6 Week 2 Day 4. Semi-private thread.
Valerie’s apartment was surprisingly neat. It was the neatness of someone bored and who didn’t have a lot of belongings though. The only people who knew this were drunken one-night stands who left the next morning feeling vaguely perturbed however.
The place was a cramped, three room (kitchen, bathroom bedroom), run down wreck with cracks in the wall and yellow stains on the linoleum floor. There was a faded pen drawing of a mutated giraffe beside the weathered green dining table and the dish rack was starting to rust. Still, the place was relatively dust-free, the dish rack lined with a few cleaned dishes, cups and cutlery. There was even a pot of aloe vera sitting on the rotting windowsill. The only real mess was the bedroom where a few items of clothing were scattered across the floor; underwear, tank tops and baggy pants, occasionally draped over shoes.
Valerie herself sat upon the bed in her panda-printed pajamas, slouched over some papers with a bagel in her mouth. There are crumbs scattered over the bills, but she pays them little heed as she goes through them, black pen in hand. The bright midday sunlight peaks through the blinds, leaving bright white stripes over her feet and the dusty flower printed sheets.
Her peaceful day off was abruptly interrupted by the ‘boop boop boop’ of her cellphone.
Sitting up, the woman scowls down at the edge of the bed where the vibrating, booping thing resided and squinted to see the words on the screen. ‘Unknown caller’? There were only a few people who knew her number and she kept track of anyone who’d gotten it. That left only a few other options. She snatches the phone up with her toes and clicks the answer button.
“I ain’t interested in your product, ain’t gonna participate in no statistics or you prolly got the wrong number, dude,” she says automatically.
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Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Jan 22, 2012 20:26:12 GMT -5
"Good day, miss Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao."
There is a slight crackle to the line. The voice on the other end might sound familiar to her, or it might be completely new. It depends on how vivid her dreams are.
"I assure you, neither of any of those possibilities is the reason why I am calling you now. To cut a long story short: I wish to offer you a job. One that is more suited for you someone with your unique talents. Talents that are now rotting away in that grocery store, would you not agree?"
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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Jan 23, 2012 1:34:51 GMT -5
For the briefest of moments, the woman gets such a profound sense of deja vu upon hearing the voice that she almost drops her bagel. Then the Mysterious Stranger’s offer registers in her brain and he groans miserably. Really? Five years in jail, fresh off of probation, juuust starting to rebuild her life again?
“Ooooh goooood,” Valerie sets the bagel down on her nightstand and slithers down under her sheets. “I takin’ no more shady job offers from you creeps. Christ, jus’ leave me alone.” She clicks the ‘End Call’ button. Sure, the grocery store job was stupid and she hated but at least the store manager had less chances of leaving her to bleed out in the middle of a stupid villainous gig.
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Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Jan 23, 2012 17:15:14 GMT -5
The line does not die. And Valerie can hit the button as much as she wants, it won't die unless she hurls her phone against the wall.
"Your reaction is quite understandable. But the people I represent are not as careless as your previous employers, miss Wei-Li-Zhao. In fact, I have quite a few promising job aspects for you in particular. Such as, say, helicopter pilot, bodyguard, high profile security...You do not have to answer right this instance. Think about it. I will contact you again."
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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Jan 24, 2012 16:40:40 GMT -5
The woman snarls out something particularly ugly and gets up off her bed, opens the window and throws the phone out. It lands on the streets and ends up under a car where it shatters into many, many little pieces. She hopes the bastard heard that and gets deaf in one ear.
Valerie stares at the glittering remains for moment. It was a lovely feeling to finally be free of that infernal contraption AND the annoying nitwits it allowed to reach her but it didn’t solve her problem. Knowing most minion hiring firms, it was going to take a lot more than that to get rid of them.
She glances around at the life she’d begun to set up and weighed the risks.
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Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Jan 26, 2012 13:39:51 GMT -5
On the other end of the line, there sits a man in a blue tux in an ill lit office. When the line simply dies an eyebrow raises, his gaze shifting to his monitor to confirm that the phone was simply destroyed.
And then? He smiles.
"I would have never dared imagine that the day would come where I find myself relieved that he is still the same obnoxious, disrespectful lunatic. Do not worry, Vortex. I will be seeing you very, very soon."
His original intention was to give Valerie a few days to think about it. But this is one of those cases where he allows himself to be impatient. He only allowed her enough time to sleep on it, but the next day, he's waiting for her. In style, in the back of a limousine that was parked near the store on what should be her route, looking out of the mirrored window, fingers laced together.
All he had to do now was wait for her to show up. And as soon as she will pass him, he will lower the window and reach out with a mobile phone, the same brand as the one she destroyed. "With your salary, I thought, why not spare you half a year worth of salary?"
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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Jan 26, 2012 21:03:14 GMT -5
… A limo.
Really?
Valerie has half a mind to just walk down the next alley. See how that stupid limo fits in there. As she was Valerie though, she does not. The woman stops and scowls darkly at the car for a moment before calmly striding up to the open window, her scowl darkening further at the sight of the proffered cellphone. Her hands remain firmly inside the pockets of her pants, however.
It was probably a good thing Arthur had been impatient because Valerie had already packed her meager belongings. She was heading to the store to figure out what her last paycheck would look like and then she’d be going home to do some final paper works before heading off, away from the city and never looking back.
“So, what part a’ ‘f@#k off’ didn’t ya hear?” she asks casually, eying him. "Cus I can carve it into your skull real slow if you want."
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Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Jan 26, 2012 21:47:39 GMT -5
The only lights inside the limo are those that come pouring in through the darkened windows. It keeps the mystery man in the shadows. For now, his gloved hand and the vague contours of his body are the only things that Valerie can make out.
And there is a faint chuckling.
"Oh, miss Wei-Li-Zhao, miss Wei-Li Zhao..."
But then his soft laughter comes to a screeching halt. Soft, amused tone is replaced by something more commanding, and familiar.
"Shut. Up."
He activates the phone. The Decepticon symbol is the wallpaper. Valerie probably saw it in the news, but her reaction will be telling either way.
"Now, I am going to tell you what you will do next, because frankly I am not in the mood for idle chatter with clever manipulative banter. That would be disrespectful of me towards someone of such...Considerable importance. You will take the phone. You will get into the car. You will listen to what I have to say. You will take the job. Do you know why, miss Wei-Li-Zhao? Because I know what troubles you. You are tired of working for unreliable firms that do not care for the well being of their employees. But you miss it. You miss the thrills, that rush as you defy the laws of physics, ride the wind, or make someone scream. And because you can't shake that feeling that you are missing something, that the life you lead now just isn't right for you."
"You will get in because I will offer you the chance to make your life fulfilling again, while providing you with adequate reassurance and protection, not to mention benefits. But you will also get in because I find your personality highly abrasive, your behavior highly unprofessional and you would just love to annoy me to no end. And while you can certainly walk away to achieve this, it will not frustrate me as much as having to deal with you up, close and personal. The very fact that I am willing to endure this and not kill you for your insolence should tell you just how important you are to me."
He moves his free hand to the console that rests besides him, clicking on a button that activates the door controls. With the window down, the door slides away without him having to remove his arm, allowing her both entry into the limo and the first real opportunity to see the man with the blue tuxedo. There is a trained, handsome but ultimately empty smile on his face. The kind she has seen a million times before, most likely. His amber eyes are sharp, betraying his intelligence, something else she has most likely seen before with unreliable agents who promised her golden opportunities, only for their promises to ultimately prove empty and with little worth. But there is also something else. Something odd. He genuinely wants her to get in. He does not look at her like a shark from Harvard with a masters degree in Private Contracting Management. No. He looks at her like an old soldier, waiting for one of his closest comrades to get her head out of her ass and get on board.
"But most important of all, you will get in because you are a masochist who is bored."
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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Jan 27, 2012 16:51:57 GMT -5
There is altogether one moment of silence.
And then Valerie laughs.
“Why the hell haven’t I killed you yet?” she asks him, rubbing her face while staring at the phone. That symbol. Whatever reaction she has to it though, the woman hides it quite well. Instead Valerie looks up at Arthur, glaring. He knows a lot about her for a stranger. Then again, she wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard had access to her psyche and history reports- or just had a telepath working with him period.
… In the end though, she never really had much of a choice. Valerie was going to be dragged kicking and screaming back into the folds of the villainous masses no matter what she does; it was just a matter of time before she would get bored with trying to behave. Behaving was miserable and stupid and she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life trapped behind a counter giving bland, toothy smiles to the customers. Even if she did behave, what then? Then she’d have a lifetime of trying to dodge weird creeps like these day in and day out on top of the insipidly dull day job.
“You try anythin’ funny and I flip you inside out,” Valerie warns as she warily steps into the car. She takes all of his promises about the future working conditions at face value (villains caring about the well-being of their minions? Really?), but she does note the man’s strange body language. Exactly how well does this man know her? He was acting as if this was some sort of reunion. Was HE a telepath?
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Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Jan 27, 2012 20:37:23 GMT -5
Arthur knows the answer to that loaded question. But he does not expand on it. He does not reveal the full extent of his knowledge. He knows her, and he knows that if he pushes an amnesiac Vortex too far, that there will be blood.
Though even with how careful he is, he can't help but smile a little as she gets in. Even if she did not accept the phone. It served it's purpose. He knew she was never going to take it, anyways. He'd throw her out on the street if she did, and when everything went back to normal, would give Vortex a verbal lashing for being so careless. Amnesia is not an excuse, not when she still has all of Vortex' skill.
"I will spare you the witty jokes, then." When Valerie is seated, Arthur closes the door. He did not want to rush her. Then, he presses another, signaling the driver who sits behind the darkened divider, and the car starts moving. Then, he focuses all of his attention on Valerie, putting the phone down besides him, the device forgotten.
"Now, down to business. What I am about to tell you is strictly confidential, so I will have to ask for your discretion. I represent the SSSRA. Specifically, the Illustrious Division. We have the same goal as the Agency, naturally, but our specialization lays elsewhere. Namely high profile security. And we are far, far more selective then our colleagues in the other divisions. I have various positions that should interest you. They have all been carefully selected by yours truly."
With that, he reaches for a suitcase at his feet, putting it up and calmly opening the locks. He shuffles through the files within it, until he finds hers, handing it to her.
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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Jan 28, 2012 11:24:04 GMT -5
Well, she could have still taken the phone to fake stupidity. Although if the prick was a telepath or worked with one, that faking wouldn’t have lasted long anyways. It was either that, or that man actually knew her. Which is particularly disturbing because Valerie doesn’t recall ever having met him in her life. When someone knows more about you than you know about them, well, that made the paranoid interrogator inside twitch a bit.
“You can make witty jokes? Huh. I wonder why you aren’t a comedian.” Resisting the powerful urge to sully the expensive leather seat with her boots, Valerie simply settles on slouching insolently in her seat. Go ahead and tell her it’s bad for her back, Arthur. She’s testing the boundaries he’d laid out already and they’ve only seen each other for a little over a minute.
“Oooh, the fancy group,” Valerie says, utterly delighted by this inclusion into the elite circles of villains. Look at this enthusiasm. “I s’pose I can’t argue with the pay,” she mutters after she accepts the papers from him with an unhappy grumble. The question of course is WHY she was being picked. There were better pilots than her out there without a history of being nutty sociopathic masochists, surely, and certainly more powerful metas than her. More disciplined, more obedient, far more willing to throw themselves into a rain of bullets and less likely to pop open like an overripe bloody melon doing so. Why was this guy willing to overlook that many little flaws for what was supposedly an illustrious position working for rich evil idiots?
He was either lying or he did actually know her. Neither options were particularly comforting.
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Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Jan 30, 2012 19:06:43 GMT -5
"I thought about it, only to realize that it's not my thing." It's said without any sense of fun or humor to his tone whatsoever. He can't even crack a little smile. When she slouches, though, the corner of his mouth does twitch a little, forcing itself downwards. That body is already so vulnerable, and she is doing something that could result in long term disadvantages. "Do not slouch, miss Wei-Li-Zhao, it isbad for your back."
"Yes, the 'fancy' group, as you so eloquently put it." He resists the urge to roll his eyes. Oh, she lost nothing in the annoyance department when she was changed. He gives her time to read over the files. His fingers tapping on his knees as he waits for her to finish reading. He looks her over, but his gaze is not wanting, but instead critical. He is analyzing her. When she comes to the last page, he finally speaks up again. "What do you think of the last one?" It's a job description for Octavian Comstocks' personal team. There is not much known about Lord Slaughter. What is known, however, is that he has never worked with the same people twice.
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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Feb 1, 2012 18:19:33 GMT -5
“You can jus’ use Zhao if you wanna be formal there, fella,” Valerie snorts in amusement; she didn’t even have to wait for that back health comment there, Arthur! “My whole Asian name is a bit of a mouthful.”
“So I get to work with a stuffy old bore in a fancy pansy elite team. It’s like everything I’ve ever dreamt of!” Except not. “So do I have to move or can I just stay in my place?” She worked hard for that apartment, even if it is crappy.
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Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Feb 2, 2012 20:17:21 GMT -5
"I'd rather not." When on company hours, chances are that Arthur is the very definition of 'strict, boring suit'. "I have seen worse names, of course. It comes with the profession."
"Really." He hopes that she is serious. If she at least has dreams, it would make helping her recover her memory a whole lot easier. "That is entirely up to you. Our quarters are quite accommodating, but you would lose some privileges. I recommend staying in your current home, unless you find the pictures particularly appealing. But you seem like the type of person who values relative levels of privacy more than the proverbial gilded cage." Either way she's going to get monitored.
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Post by Vortex/Valerie Wei-Li-Zhao on Feb 3, 2012 18:58:49 GMT -5
“Well, whatever. I mean, if you get your kicks gettin’ your tongue tied ‘round foreign names, who am I to judge?” She slouches further, oozing into a nicely comfortable position halfway off her seat.
“No,” is her answer to the second question. Whether or not she does actually dream is something Arthur is going to have to work to find out, damnit.
She holds up the pictures of the apparent accommodations and makes a face. “I’ve lived in some horrible places with too many people too close together, but that nightmare makes ‘em look like a fuckin’ five star hotel suit.” Kind of ironic considering the accommodations are probably on par with five star hotel suits.
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