ioduanlogs | [open] if you wanna cry about something, i'll make it something worth crying for

Entry tags:

[open] if you wanna cry about something, i'll make it something worth crying for

Characters: Handsome Jack + You!
Date: The entire month of May
Location: All over Aifaran. Crime at a street near Hyperion, SciTech at a plaza, Meta at the Hyperion building, and Wildcard at the Park.
Situation: Crime + 1, SciTech + 4, Meta + 3, and a wildcard option! Plus a starter for Leo and Jack.
Warnings/Rating: Ngl. There's some gore here. Also, it's Jack. Inevitable jackassery inside!

crime + 1: i'm not the one that needs protection

"You're making quite the name for yourself, Mr C-E-O," a bandit said, smiling wide. Jack smelled this guy's entire lunch with the way he just breathed on him. Well, if his lunch was rotten eggs and feces, which it probably was. Why were dirty criminals always so careless with hygiene? "How about you learn to share your blessings with the rest of us locals, huh? We're all family here, right?"

He and his little buddies nodded in agreement. There was a menacing edge to their town, an unspoken innuendo that suggested that Jack better have something to give them.

And Jack got it! He was dressed nice in his new suit, and he looked like he bathed in the past week. That was the epitome of class for these guys. Unfortunately for them, they were barking up the wrong tree. Jack flashed his teeth at them in an attempt to smile, but it looked like a snarl instead. He hadn't killed in a while. He dared them to keep going.

"Counter-point: Instead of giving you my money, which I'm totally not gonna do, I give you bandits a five second head start to get out of my face or else I show you the insides of your chests, hm?"

They laughed, collectively. During their laughter, Jack whipped out his gun and shot a guy's kneecap. He doubled over, and everyone jumped in surprise.

"Oh?" Jack laughed. "What? You've never seen a gun before? How's that working out for you?"

"S-shit, we're not afraid of you!"

Jack shot the one that was kneeling down straight in the head. His body snapped back to the ground, blood splattering all over. Jack spun his pistol in his hand. He really hoped they'd stay and fight.

"One," Jack said.

scitech + 4: i just came to see you fail

The locals heard about Jack's new security system. There were the usual gifts, you know, from companies hoping to suck-up to the new start-up. One of them was an invitation to judge a local science fair. Groan. He wouldn't have considered it if there wasn't an attached picture of the school staff, and there were a handful of attractive teachers. God, he really needed to get laid.

The school fair was at a plaza. There were balloons and a big snack bar, and lots of guests to look over the kids' presentations. Children? Horrible. They had disgusting, sticky little fingers. His Angel never had -- well, she did, but she was at least cute about it. She was the only cute child in history. Everyone else were just creepy, disgusting little gremlins.

There was a hot teacher there. He spent the last half hour just hitting on her until an older lady started herding him to judge the displays. Jack followed, begrudgingly, and like he predicted, he wasn't having a good time. The worst one he'd seen was a potato, and it broke down in the middle of her presentation, wheels and all. Jack picked up the destroyed potato and waved it at its owner's face.

"Listen to me, Katie, if you keep bringing this B-grade shit here, you're never going to amount to anything. Oh, you worked hard on it, Katie? You tried your best? Are you gonna take theater in college and spend the rest of your days in a trailer?" Katie started crying. Jack rolled his eyes. "Welcome to the real world, kid."

meta + 3: day off? fuck that.

Inside and outside of the Hyperion building, an announcement could be heard:

"Attention: Hyperion workers. I've been informed by the city government that all the water in the building has temporarily turned into vodka, and I've been advised to give everyone the day off... which... is completely stupid. Seriously? Day off for alcohol? No day off for you guys, but -- HAHA -- feel free to, you know, go crazy during work. Why bother going to the bar after when you could just get drunk now? Cut off the middleman! Drown your sorrows with the company toilets! I hope someone falls off a window, 'cause that'll be fucking hilarious! HAHAHAHA... wait, is this still on? Turn it off you piece of --"

hyperion: this ain't a scene, it's a goddamn arms race

There was an exciting display in front of the Hyperion building today! It was an 8 feet tall robot walking around. Its body was shaped like a human, but its arms were too long and it didn't have a head. It didn't look like it was being controlled by anybody, but Jack and handful of scientists were standing near it. When passersby came around, they could say hi to it. There was a small crowd taking pictures of it for Xa Xa.

wildcard: hit me up if you guys want something different!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The kid should be around any minute now. He poured himself some scotch as he waited for him.

Jack was nervous. He didn't like vulnerability in front of other people, but when he tried to do it, his pictures came out like garbage. Art was a dumb skill for untalented hacks anyway, but he supposed it had its uses. He wanted these to come out perfect. He'd be caught dead before displaying anything that wasn't professionally made.

Edited 2018-05-08 15:16 (UTC)

Leo was on time for the most part; he may have been a minute or two late because the distortions in his vision were getting wierd and it was hard to navigate like that. But, money was involved and Leo took his job as a photographer seriously. (He was also kind of afraid of Jack, and how he might react if he called in sick.)

But there he was, at the intended address, at around 5 pm, quietly and kind of nervously knocking on the door. Please let it be nothing illegal.

Luckily for Leo, Jack had been too distracted by alcohol to be snippy about his tardiness, but if he noticed, he would've remarked about how these artsy liberal arts people were always inconsiderate about other people's time. Instead, he opens the door with a glass of scotch in hand.

His living room is minimalist with monochromatic colors in that clean, uncluttered way rich people could afford. There are blueprints and tools around the living room, as well as the strong scent of baked goods coming from the kitchen.

"Finally," he says, opening the door for Leo. "C'mon. Bedroom. We can't do this here."

He starts to take off his tie and unbuttons his shirt as he leads him to the bedroom. "Oh, and... lock the door behind you."

Give him a break, Jack; he was only like one or two minutes late, and this time not bleeding. But Leo didn't say anything, just let the man lead him in. He was getting a....suspicious feeling that he really, REALLY hoped was wrong about. Jack didn't exactly give him a lot of confidence.

I didn't know someone like him baked, Leo thought as he scrambled with the lock. Guess I can't judge everyone by the cover.

"Um...you said bring my camera so like...what am I going to photograph?" Leo hesitantly asked. Please, please don't let it be yourself.

Jack didn't answer him, because he didn't like answering stupid questions. Instead, he just opens the bedroom and leads Leo towards a small room to the side.

It was supposed to be a walk-in closet, but Jack had re-purposed it into something else -- a play pen with a window installed, authentic grass, an automatic feeder, and an elaborate playhouse. A small baby bibiru, not even bigger than Jack's hand, hops out of its house and towards Jack, doing a binky as soon as it sees him. Jack picks it up very carefully.

"This is Angel," he says, in a matter-of-fact tone. "I need baby pictures of her."

Leo was increasingly nervous up until he spotted the little playpen and with the help of his eyes, the tiniest, cutest bibiru he'd seen since Michella. "Oh my GOD!!"

His eyes had cracked open to emit their alien blue light as he peered at the tiny fluffy creature in Jack's hands. "Oh my god, you're so cute!!"

Leo stuck out a finger for the little bird rabbit to sniff at before delicately petting the top of her head. "Why didn't you just say so? I could've brought treats for her! Angel's such a good name for her, I love it."

That eye thing was... weird. But hey, fawning! She deserved it. She was the best bibiru on the island, with her black and white spots and big blue eyes.

"Because I don't want anybody finding out about her, idiot. What if some of my rivals find out about her? What if they break into my house and take her to get to me?" Complete lockdown was a new thing for Jack. He wasn't going to build a whole bunker for his bibiru, but he was aware... how easy it was to hurt small, vulnerable things. "I'm already risking a lot just telling you about her existence. And yeah, about that -- if you tell anyone about her, you'll wish you kept your mouth shut. I know 500 different ways to mess with someone's teeth, and none of them you want to know about."

He petted her beautiful ears back. Her little head wasn't even bigger than his pinkie. If his daughter was an animal, she would've been a bibiru -- she had that same big, lovable eyes like prey, but she also had wings. "Where should we take pictures of her? Bedroom? Can you do it in her play pen?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it you're big and strong and can kill me." Tell me something I don't know, Leo said to himself, but distracted him from being too mouthy by petting the cute little bibiru under the chin.

Personally he thought that she was almost as cute as Michella, but that would absolutely not go over well. Instead, Leo snapped his eyes shut, looking almost guilty before continuing to speak. "Look, you can trust me to keep a secret even if you're....Well, I can. Client confidentiality is a part of the job, you know. But we can take pictures in her playpen. She's probably the most comfortable there, and if you get a lamp or something, the lighting can work. I can also take a picture of you with her if you want."

"Good," he said, and that was that. He walked over back to Angel's playpen and crouched down, settling her down on the ground as gently as he can. Despite being a loud and boisterous man, it was obvious he was experienced in handling small, vulnerable things.

"Yeah, I got a few lamps. I don't want pictures of me taken. Just make hers real nice, alright? I want a few big ones I can frame, maybe digital copies." He grabbed the lamps from both of his bedside tables and placed them in the playpen. He moved out of the way so Leo could go inside. "Need anything else?"

Miles is, for once, minding his own business. Really and truly. Of course, that never lasted long for him, because Miles was, well, Miles.

A slight smell of copper assaulted his nose when he passed near an alleyway - not even by it, just in its general vicinity - and he sighed. Stupid Walrider, heightening his senses. He supposed he had to check it out.

And then there were gunshots, and he ran towards them.

"All right, what the fuck, dude," he said, taking in the scene with a glance. A well-dressed man with a gun, some gang members, and a corpse. For fuck's sake.

All of them turned to Miles when they saw him. Well, except for the corpse. That guy wasn't going to be moving any time soon -- well, like, ever.

Jack shrugged. "What? They came at me first."

Confused by the scene, the gang members screamed about people not fucking with them, splitting in groups of three to attack Jack and Miles. Oh, there we go! That's what he wanted!

Jack shot another guy's brain out. "Ooh! Did you see that? P O P!" He cackled. "Soooo gross."

"Really? Really." Miles sighed, and looked at the gang members rushing him. "Don't. I'm warning you, do not."

That was met with laughs and jeers, and, okay, fair enough, he knew that wasn't threatening. Hadn't really been meant to be, but whatever.

By the time the first one tried to stab him, the Walrider was already rising from his skin like smoke, curling around him, and he knocked the knife aside. That at least gave them pause.

"Go," he said in a guttural voice, surrounded by dark wisps of nanites, his eyes silvered. "I won't say it again."

Valdis' sight had slowly started to return, but things were still slightly fuzzy and sometimes colors didn't work correctly. The Dreaming was a fickle thing, but she had seemed to learn something the experience, if only that she could still function without vision. Her empathetic senses, however, were up to snuff, and she quickly narrowed in on the violent and murderous intent coming from the narrow side street.

Gang members, but also Jack, his pompous demeanor gave him away almost as much as his essence stank. She watched as the well-dressed CEO shot the unfortunate idiot in the knee, bringing him to his knees. She might have done the same had she been in his position, but in a less bloody manner. But when Jack cocked his pistol again, she moved. There was a ringing vibration as Valdis caught the second bullet on the flat of her blade, deflecting it into the side of a building.

"Now, now, Jack," she said pleasantly, completely unconcerned by how he might interpret what she had just done, "I'm sure he's learned his lesson, there's no need to go further."

Jack watched the bullet fly off from her blade. Hot. But also, was he in trouble? Not with the law -- those guys could be paid off and reasoned with -- but with his booty call chances?

He flashed her a charming smile. "You're totally right, babe. It was just self-defense, alright? They were like 'uurgh, protection money!' Really. What was I supposed to do?"

The men were looking between them, unsure if they should attack. Jack whistled and tilted his head at them. "So, uh, what did you want to do with these bad guys, huh?"

Jack's belief that he still had a chance was far more advantageous than the alternative, so Valdis smiled back, seemingly still charmed.

"I would expect nothing less from the man who values security so highly," she replied, winking at him before returning her attention to the thugs. "I think we should at least give them a chance to collect their injured companion and flee, don't you darling?"

Maybe the 'darling' was a bit too much, but too late to take it back now, besides, the thugs fearing two of them would mean that they might leave Jack alone completely, which meant she wouldn't have to deal with him using more violence than was necessary. She arched a brow at them, stepping closer to Jack and moving the tip of her blade to point at the injured gang member's throat.

"But I suppose it's up to them."

Regardless of what Valdis thought, the 'darling' was enough to pacify him. He stood beside her with his arms crossed. He still ached for a fight, but he wasn't stupid enough to start it himself, especially with her here.

Maybe he could provoke it?

"I honestlyyyy doubt they'll back down. Aren't gang members supposed to be tough and never back down from anything? But I guess these guys are just cheap knock-offs of actual criminals. Those big clubs really are compensating for something, huh?"

Ohhh. They were angry now. Jack flashed a grin at them, as if daring them to come and get him.

[ ooc: UP TO YOU WHAT THEY DO LMAO ]

It took effort to not roll her eyes at Jack's clear attempt to provoke the gang members. It wasn't as if she had little experience with gangs, she'd interacted with plenty of them before. As Jack smiled at them, she fixed them with a scarlet gaze, a silent threat. One of them took a step forward, as if to challenge them, but she lifted her chin and her grabbed his friend by the arm and dragged him backward as they all made the wise decision to retreat.

She turned to Jack, sheathing her sword, and smiling broadly, "Perhaps they have some intelligence after all," she quipped, placing her hand on his arm, "Come, let's not give them reason to doubt our charity."

Cowards. Why bother joining a gang if they were going to retreat at the last minute? They were already mentally deficient enough to risk their lives for this lifestyle. What else did they have to lose?

He looked visibly irritated when she touched his arm, but he shook it off quick. He didn't need to show her his cards too early. He was still establishing a repertoire on the island, after all.

"Didn't realize they had more than one brain cell. What do you know?" He looked at her, an eyebrow quirked. "You know 'self-defense', huh?"

His irritation at the lack of a fight made her wonder what he had been expecting. The man seemed to enjoy exerting his superiority over others, so the retreat of the gang members should have satisfied him more than it had. Unless it was more that he enjoyed inflicting suffering upon those he deemed below him. The two things did come hand in hand upon occasion, but it spoke to how dangerous Handsome Jack could be. There was usually only one solution to men like him, but here, in Aifaran, Dreamfolk did not stay dead.

Valdis managed to blush at his question, averting her eyes from his, pretending, of course, that she held some shame for understating her abilities. "All the ladies in my court know their way around a sword," she explained, removing her hand from his arm, "I didn't wish to sound too prideful."

Edited (typo) 2018-05-18 22:34 (UTC)

"Know their way around is putting it lightly. You just deflected a bullet to the side of a building. Not even the most anime sword handlers I know back in my universe knows how to do that." He places his hands on his hips. "Care to tell me what you actually are, or are we both just gonna keep pretending we're both dumb as bricks?"

She didn't know what she expected him to think after her little display, but she'd need to come up with something believable, but not quite a lie. Jack wasn't a fool, but she needed to keep playing him for as long as she could.

"I was once an angel," she replied, "But life on my world is harsh, so I changed to survive."

If he liked power, control and believing he was superior, she could play on that.

"I'm not a delicate flower," she acknowledged, "Though I do appreciate being treated like one upon occasion. The finer things and such." Her smile returned, "But I was wrong before, about knowing men like you, you aren't like anyone I've ever met."

Everything about her demeanor suggested she was being truthful, and for the most part, she was, minus the last. That was perhaps the most direct lie she'd ever told off her home world. It would be worth it, if it worked.

Klaus had stopped momentarily when he saw what looked like, for an instant out of the corner of his eye, one of the police suits from Jerusalem's Lot.

He approached curiously. This was the first time he'd seen an automaton built in Konryu, and frankly he was impressed - Klaus seemed to be examining it with more professionalism than the average rubbernecker, but that may have just been due to his tendency to air on the side of formal rather than anything like a deep understanding of robotics.

As Klaus approached the robot, it walked towards Klaus, extending one of its robotic hands to shake. The bulb representing its eye flashed a few times in a friendly manner. "Good to meet you. My name is S3B4-ST-10N. Se-bas-tian."

Jack nodded at Klaus from across the area. "Pretty cool, huh? Fully-automated, self-repairing housekeeping bot with a customizable AI personality. He's designed to be the most perfect butler. Made him myself."

Edited 2018-05-12 17:59 (UTC)

With great care not to break the metal, Klaus took the extended hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Sebastian. I am Klaus Von Reinherz."

He seemed about to ask the robot something when Jack approached. He turned, and gave a small nod.

"Very innovative," Klaus agreed. "I think this is the first time I've seen such a sophisticated robot here."

He could think of several people in Libra who would love to pick Jack's brain about Sebastian, and not for the first time did Klaus wish he was better versed in robotics than he was.

"I'm sure you're used to hearing it by now, but this is a remarkable accomplishment in the short time you've been here."

Sebastian happily shook Klaus' hand, taking neurological imprints and biometric scans so it would be able to recognize him in the future. It then walked away to greet the rest of its adoring fans.

Finally, some damn recognition. Jack grinned. "Hey, thanks. Aifaran's pretty basic and utilitarian, as far as tech goes. Being the head of a major tech company in my universe and finding similar like-minded people --" He squeezed one of his engineer's shoulders, who smiled back at him, "-- means that we can help propel Aifaran into the future. An island with both magic and tech sounds pretty sweet, if you ask me. Once we refine Sebby's AI here, we'll be ready for mass production."

Of course, this version of Seb wasn't just a simple butler bot. It was a more... upgraded model, and by that, he meant armed to the teeth with weapons. Not that Klaus needed to know that.

"You've mentioned a 'Jerusalem's Lot' that knew about tech before. What kind of technology did they make?"

Klaus stopped himself before he actually smiled. Despite his gentlemanly nature, his face had the unfortunate habit of looking far more intense and menacing than he ever intended and he had no desire to put off someone who was mostly a stranger.

"That you should say magic and technology and then ask about Jerusalem's Lot... well. That's exactly the sort of thing that defined it. One of many things, but it was the biggest draw for outsiders to risk coming to the city."

Explaining that chaotic city, once New York and now... well it was still the essence of New York but amplified.

"It's a crossroads between two parallel dimensions - Earth and the Beyond. The laws of physics don't work quite the same as in either world so new things emerge every day. Unfortunately much of it doesn't work outside a certain radius. If you move too far from the Great Collapse, magic breaks down."

Unless, of course, it was something designed to function under a variety of circumstances such as certain doomsday artifacts, but those things were old, powerful, and unknowable.

Operation: Win Tim Back is going smoothly. Tim's already begrudgingly agreed to help him take over Aifaran, and he seems to have felt at least financially secure with Jack backing his expenses. Now, Jack needed his personal loyalty. The kind where he'd look at him and say, Yeah, I'd die for this guy.

It didn't help that Jack was starting to feel a little lonely. Not that he'd admit it to anyone.

He reserved a couple seats for them at a luxurious restaurant Downtown, but the idiot manning the podium couldn't get it right. She was sweating bullets, and Jack just kept turning the heat up.

"Handsome Jack. H-a-n-dsome Ja-ck. CEO of Hyperion? I called ahead a few days ago to reserve a table for two? Ring any goddamn bells?"

"S-sorry, Mr Jack -- Mr Handsome, I... I can't find your name anywhere, you'll have to..."

And then, she stares... not at him, but past him. "Is that your companion?"

"Uh, yeah?"

Whatever her nervousness before, it turns into something like fear, face paling. She skitters back into the restaurant, disappears for a minute, and comes back opening the door for them. "R-right this way..."

Jack glances at Tim, eyebrow raised. "Weird."

They follow her inside. The place was as classy as the island could get -- beautiful statues with surfaces that reflected different colors in the light, and elaborate columns with ornate etchings. There's dim mood lighting and exotic-looking floral centerpieces sitting at the middle of the tables. The receptionist leads them to the balcony table overlooking the ocean. Now that's up to his tastes.

"Please... O-order whatever you want," the lady says, looking... directly at Tim as she hands them their menus. She leaves them alone after that, but periodically glances at their table to check if they need anything.

"Is it just me, or did she look like she just shit herself looking at you earlier?"

Edited 2018-05-15 08:36 (UTC)

Tim isn't exactly surprised that Jack's throwing money around; it's sort of situation normal, a continuation of what he did back on Helios. Too bad the name Handsome Jack doesn't have the same kind of clout in Aifaran that it did back home, because it's getting increasingly obvious that he's not on the reservation list and he's not high up enough on the food chain to get put on it last-minute.

It makes him a little nervous-- the last thing he wants right now is a Jack-style temper tantrum to deal with-- at least, until the hostess changes her mind and lets them in. Jack doesn't seem to know what's up, and neither does Tim; he just shrugs in response to his boss' raised eyebrow. Beats the shit out of him.

This is definitely a fancier place than Tim's really ever been in, too, the kind of place that's got real crystal glasses, and, wow, that's a beautiful view. This is real VIP treatment stuff, and Tim can't figure out why this woman keeps looking to him like he's the one in charge here. She's barely paying attention to Jack, and he's the CEO, even if Hyperion isn't well established yet. Tim's just some schmuck that showed up recently, right?

Tim looks up from the menu-- god, he's getting the biggest goddamn steak they have, if he's eating on Jack's tab he's at least going to eat well-- and replies to Jack's question with a shrug.

"I guess? I don't know why, I haven't really been here long enough to make an impression on anybody."

Not anybody important. He's not really the kind of person that makes waves when he goes someplace new.

"Whatever it is, at least it, um, got us a table."

Jack isn't jealous per se, but he's a bit irritated that nobody's recognizing him and seem to be focusing on Tim instead. What was the big deal? Was it because body language wasn't translating well, and 'squirrely yes-man' meant 'hidden badass' in Aifaran? He flashes an irritated look at both the receptionist again and Tim, but Tim's usual shrinking is enough to placate him.

"Might be..." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. Is it the same luck he got when he got here? But he guessed instead of impressing random businessmen, Tim scares the shit out of restaurants, or something. He shakes his head. "I'll let you know later when they take our order."

He waves a hand.

"How're you enjoying the accommodations I gave you? Pretty sweet, huh? You can order whatever you want from the restaurant downstairs. Some of the dishes are oddly colored, but... eh... weird place, what can you do?" He turns quiet.

"Early this month, I got these weird hallucinations. I kept seeing my daughter. The closer I got to her, the further away she was. The city said it was a... a sickness that they brought back to Aifaran from something they did a few months ago? They sent a team out of the island to investigate what was out there. There's answers there. I'm sure of it. I had my team at Hyperion collect samples of the sickness to experiment with, see if there's something there we can use.

"Next time they round people up, I want you to go with them. I'll keep in touch and make sure you're well-supplied. I have another man on the ground that can help you. His name's Kaltz. Quiet dude, but decent enough in combat. His teleportation thing might come in handy."

The condominium that Tim moved into-- paid for by Jack, like a... phrase that Tim's not even going to think-- is a hell of a lot nicer than most of his accommodations have been. It's more than spacious enough for one person, has full amenities, a terrace with a nice view. Downside: Jack is no more than two minutes from him at all times and probably made a copy of the key, because he has no concept of privacy or personal space.

"Yeah, it's... great," he says, and he'd be grateful for the switch off of his housing accommodations into more businesslike topics if it wasn't for that whole daughter thing, too. Tim's still not really sure what to do with that information; he remembers one time, when he was getting an ECHO off of Jack's desk, that he'd caught a glimpse of a little frame with a picture of a smiling, gap-toothed girl in it. He hadn't known the signficance of it then. And having the limited context that Jack gave to him-- they broke into her room and murdered her-- makes it worse.

Mission briefings are much more solid ground, though. If it involves sending Tim out into hostile and dangerous territory, it's old hat.

"Yeah, okay," he says, making mental notes-- Kaltz, quiet, good in a fight. Having some reliable backup would be nice, if he's going somewhere dangerous. "So, aside from bringing something nasty back, did they say what else they found? I'd kind of like to have an idea of what I'll be getting into."

Jack shrugs lightly, arms crossed. "Still gathering intel. Sentry's all tight-lipped about it. Fortunately, I found someone with her ears to the ground, so I might be able to give you something more than 'evil parasite source' soon. You still got one of those Oz kits with you? Send them to the lab. We might be able to upgrade it to a model that could prevent infections from airborne diseases."

Years in Hyperion has made him more than savvy. Know your enemies. Maximize your resources. Learn from your mistakes. He's not going too get caught vulnerable a second time.

In a less serious voice, "You ready to order?"

He flags down one of the waitresses. She... completely ignores him. What the hell? One of her co-workers walks up to her and whispers something to her. They both look at Tim simultaneously. Jack squints. Okaaaaay. She walks up to their table, notably facing Tim first.

"Do not ignore me when I am talking to you," Jack says in a low, threatening voice, but she ignores him completely. He visibly grits his teeth. He throws his hands up, slumping in his chair like a small child and crossing his arms. "Alright, you order. Tell her I'll have the special, sauce on the side, all the cheese appetizers, and a bottle of their finest vintage. See if you can get through her."

"Yeah, uh, not picking up a weird space disease is, you know, preferable? Kinda been there, done that."

Because, you know, space hurps. It had been a bad time and Tim really would rather not have to do it again with a whole new gross space parasite. One is enough? For his entire life?

It's good that Jack's prioritizing the safety of his assets, though. Though Tim is aware that, at the moment, he's one of his boss' only assets. Hyperion's not a superpower anymore.

Then there's that... weird little display between Jack and the waitress, and there's something really satisfying about someone just ignoring Jack when he's being pissy. Like, actually ignoring Jack, the guy that used to strangle underachieving employees over the Helios intercom to motivate everybody else. Just... not even acknowledging him. Tim would've laughed at Jack's pouting, but that might get his pay docked.

"Um..." the waitress is looking at him expectantly, and a little nervously. Tim's not used to people looking scared at him. He repeats Jack's lengthy order back to her, and she takes notes on everything he says, like she's terrified of getting a single detail wrong.

He gets the filet for himself, because red meat had been off the menu for him while he was under the oppressive heel of Miranda, the Hyperion nutritionist from Hell, and counters the guilt he feels from that by getting the vegetable medley for his side. See, it's not that bad if he eats vegetables with it, right? She takes their menus when he's done and assures them that the wine will be out shortly, then hurries off.

"...Okay, this is starting to weird me out. This isn't normal, right? Nothing like this happened when you got here?"

They aren't just, like, scared of everybody who pops through the Dreaming, right?

Jack watches the exchange with narrow eyes. He fucking knew it. He thought, for a moment, that maybe they managed to scrape together enough common sense to recognize that Jack was a very important person and he shouldn't be trifled with... but no. Nothing made sense in this goddamn island.

"Oh, something definitely did. Not sure if it's something important, or you just have a special talent for scaring waitstaff." As the waitress heads back to the table with the vintage, Jack hones in on her again, like a predator watching his prey. "I'm gonna go find out."

He springs to his feet and stalks towards her. She looks past him, fully intending to walk around him, but he grabs her by the arm and pulls her to a corner. People start to pay attention to them and gossip about what's happening, but Jack doesn't care. The two of them talked in hushed whispers for a bit, then look at Tim simultaneously. He understands now. More Dreaming bullcrap. He comes back to their table with the vintage he ordered earlier.

"Good news, you don't have a superpower that scares the shit out of waitstaff." He pulls his chair down and practically drops on his seat. He opens up the alcohol and pours some for him and Tim. "Bad news -- or, if you're like me, better news -- they think you're a high ranking gang lord and that you're gonna run them out of business if you have a problem with their food, so... yeah, that's a thing!" He rubs his chin, a bright glint in his eye. He's not irritated anymore. He's inspired even. "You know, I thought, at first, this was gonna be another headache, but man, this just makes things way more convenient for me."

He raises a glass. "To you, Don Tim. See what I did there? Using your real name? That's one of the things I brought you in here for." He digs through his jacket, then fishes out a company ID for Tim with his real name on it. Waitstaff drama aside, his original plan was to wow Tim with a nice dinner and giving some of his identity back. It was easy for him to, if only because they looked differently enough that he wouldn't be able to use Tim as an accurate body double, and getting him up to snuff was time and surgery Jack wasn't willing to pay for now. What he needed more was Tim's loyalty. "I figured since we're in a whole different universe and time's all weird, the contact wouldn't apply here. You're still Hyperion, but, eh --" He shrugs, "-- be your own man, or whatever."

"Uh, wait, Jack--"

Nope, there he goes. Off to grab that poor waitress who did nothing wrong and drag her over to a corner. Tim is a little bit concerned that Jack's going to be, well, Jack at her and scare the woman half to death, but the conversation seems civil, if a bit tense. Eventually, his boss must get what he's looking for, because he comes back with the bottle and sprawls into his seat.

"They think I'm-- really?"

Tim's as shocked about that revelation as anyone. Him, a gang lord? Have they seen him? What, does everyone just think that he's the most polite mafioso to ever set foot in Aifaran?

He's not surprised that Jack's going to try to turn his unearned reputation to his favor, but what does surprise him is the company ID card that he pulls out of his jacket, the one that says Timothy Lawrence on it. That Jack uses his real name instead of his own. When he takes the card, he stares at it for a few long seconds, taking in this part of his identity that's been returned to him. He's free, free from the grips of the contract that ruined his life more than the debt ever had.

"Oh. I... don't know what to say." It shouldn't be a magnanimous gesture to say to someone 'hey you're allowed to be a real person'; after everything Tim's been through on Elpis and with Hyperion, though, it feels like it is. "Thank you? I really appreciate it."

And all of this seems better than the last time he was working for Jack. Sure, the guy's still manic and overbearing, but in a less 'crazed paranoid guy who'll turn on you at the slightest provocation' way. Maybe Elpis brought out the worst in Jack. Maybe he's mellowed with time. ~~Maybe Tim is a horrible judge of character.~~ Either way, Tim feels like things are looking up for him for once.

"Okay." This is good, this is a promising change. Things will be better, Tim. Things will be better. "So, what should I do about the whole mob reputation thing? Spy on the criminal underworld for you? I'd need a way better wardrobe."

His voice takes a sort of light quality to it; a joke. Because the very idea of Timothy Lawrence, nerdy guy that likes cute cat videos and Bunkers and Badasses, spying on real actual hardened criminals like he's an underworld James Bond or something is ridiculous. And he doesn't like martinis.

Jack watches Tim's reaction closely. He expected squealing and jumping for joy, maybe kissing his feet, telling him he'd take several bullets for him, but this... is an expression he's never seen on Tim's face before. Complete gratitude. It wasn't something Jack actually tried to get before, but there's a first for everything. He likes it.

See? Tim's happy! And people liked to call him 'manipulative'. Pfft! Would a manipulative person keep their employees happy so they wouldn't have to put their organs through a paper shredder if they betrayed him? Obviously not. But he was the hero here, and heroes were generous and kind (if they feel like it).

"Hey, no problem," he says, softer than usual. "You were the best body double I ever had, and we've been through a lot on Elpis, so... what the hell, right? It's a gesture of good will! I want you to know I have your back. It's you and me here, buddy."

Of course, he, personally, didn't understand why being nerdy ol' Timothy Lawrence was preferable over being The Handsome Jack, but he wasn't going to bring that up right then. Contrary to what most think, he was capable of reigning in his narcissism as long as there's promise of bigger spoils in the end. At the change of topic conversation, Jack nods along, a small grin on his face. He swirls his drink in his hand.

"Oh, I'll get you some nice clothes alright." He takes a sip. "God, what is this? Did they just pour a whole bag of sugar into this drink?" He downs it all in one go. "Anywho, I hear there are hidden illegal gambling parlors behind legitimate-seeming businesses where they conduct their deals. They might let you in if you show up. I can arm you and communicate with you through an earpiece. I wanna hear about their routes, or at the very least, get some deets on their modus operandi. If Hyperion can get a leg up over the sentry, we can spread influence faster. Sounds fun, right?" He wishes he could go. Imagine a shoot-out! God, he loves killing bandits.

"But hey, that's not really dinner talk. Your major... it was English, right? Or, Creative Writing, I think..." He raises an eyebrow in amusement, but it didn't sound mean-spirited. "What was the plan there, honestly? Get a part-time job while you work on your bestseller novel?"

It's you and me.

That's not wrong; Tim doesn't know another soul in this brave new world other than Jack, so if he's going to make any progress, he kind of has to work with the guy. Jack's the man with the plan, Tim's just the guy who goes from point A to point B and shoots anyone who's in the way. What's he going to do, figure out how to get back to their own universe, still alive, all by himself? Believe that and Tim's got a bridge to sell you.

Things will be better this time. Tim's going to tell himself that until it's true.

"That's, uh, not exactly my idea of a great night out," he says about the whole spying on the mafia's illegal gambling ring thing. Granted, Tim wouldn't want a great night out to begin with, he'd rather have a great night in with a really good book, but that's because he's boring. And he's okay with that, Tim has one hundred percent come to terms with the fact that he's a boring person who would rather binge Netflix than go hit the bars. Or, in this case, hit the illegal gambling dens.

But apparently Jack doesn't want to talk about how they're going to infiltrate the mafia or whatever, which is probably smart since they're out in the open. Jack surprises him again by remembering, well, anything about his life Pre-Jack, because Tim had been pretty certain that his boss hadn't even bothered looking at his file after all the surgeries were done. He definitely wouldn't have thought that he would actually remember things from it.

"Oh, yeah, it was creative writing," he says and takes a drink to cover the rush of embarrassment that he feels at Jack's little jab. It's one thing to talk about your dreams of writing the next great novel to a bunch of other students, a whole bunch of nobodies all looking for a big break, and something completely different to try to tell it to Handsome goddamn Jack, CEO of one of the largest corporations in the galaxy.

"And something like that, I guess. I didn't exactly have a plan, I just needed something to pay the bills." Tim makes a sort of rueful little noise in his throat. "I should've gone someplace cheaper, but I wanted to go to one of the Edens for school, you know?"

He was one of those kids that grew up on a backwater planet and had dreams of getting his big break in the big city and all that bullshit. Reality caught up with him eventually, when the bills started coming in.

Edited 2018-06-09 01:43 (UTC)

It started with an anonymous message.

Sparse, but to the point. It warned him that one of his employees was threatening to sell their private blueprints to Opara Core for a hefty amount of cash. Jack checked the man's office, and they were right. He found copies. He was never going to be free of these goddamn sellouts and backstabbers, huh? With a hot gun and a carpet stained with blood, Jack resolved to tighten the security around this place. People who have no business accessing files should be barred from them entirely.

He hated this. Not being able to trust anybody. He needed reliable people on his team... and whoever sent that message clearly had potential. He sent a message back. 'Hyperion, 8pm, after everybody's gone home. Top floor.'

They'd come. He was sure of it.

Loki didn't settle for wasting too much time stumbling about aimlessly. She knew that the world tended to shape itself around how a person demanded to be treated. While many new arrivals spent their time shyly asking questions or brusquely commenting on cultural differences, she submerged herself in the local culture and drama, shutting her mouth, opening her eyes and ears. Waiting for an opportunist's feast to snatch in her claws and sustain herself upon. She had decent enough repute among the areas of crime, commerce, and technology, although none too heavy.

Scraped together, she could easily find someone whose existence many happenings revolved around, despite only showing up recently himself. He already had a real business, and real enemies. Loki was impressed, and kept hunting that lead. Something always fell through the cracks. She was happy to reap the rewards of a staggeringly clumsy attempt at betrayal. That's the food chain. She hoped, but was confident, that she'd get more than a quick 'thanks!' and a dismissal. Not even gifts were truly free.

She waited until every light in each window except the top of the building's winked out. Then, the illusion masking her presence melted away and she went up the steps and into the building, dress shimmering under the night sky. She checked her hair in the reflection of the elevator, up in a braided bun, and decided she couldn't do better than she had. This was catered to Jack's tastes from rumors, and she had to meet the man before improving it.

Ding. Top floor, 8pm on the dot. Showtime! Loki smiled like a first-place pageant girl and got off the elevator.

Edited 2018-05-15 09:52 (UTC)

Jack was standing up and facing the window when the elevator that led directly to his office opened. In the blurry reflection of the glass in front of him, he saw a woman's silhouette in shimmering yellow. He loved yellow. It always drew his eyes in. He turned around around and was greeted by a bombshell of a woman.

"Wow," he said, whistling. Even with her attire, she looked sharp, dangerous, and gorgeous. Exactly his type. He was expecting a greasy little nerd with a black hoodie and an unoriginal mask, but this -- this was way better.

He offered a handshake. "Handsome Jack, CEO of Hyperion. Please. Sit down." He gestured to the seat in front of his desk, and sat down himself.

"You were right. He tried to sell our data to Opara. That would've completely ruined production for the next couple of months, but you... you saved our asses." He slid a gift for her across the table. It was a gold watch, a Hyperion-grade shield, and a box of chocolates. "It's so hard to find reliable men these days. Everywhere I go, it's just backstabbers and weasels. They're too dumb to make original things themselves, so they have to leech off the big guy. How the hell can I run a company when my work force keeps secrets for me?"

He tapped the side of his head. "You've got a sharp pair of eyes. I need that. Would you be interested in a job?"

Bravo and encore, his eyes and whistle conveyed. Loki resisted taking a bow and strode to Jack's desk instead, reaching across it to shake his hand, deliberate but not too hard. She took a seat in front of him, folding both her legs and arms, posture playfully, artistically framed. Every step she took here had a flair to it, since she believed this was a man who could notice and appreciate it. Things were often so dull when she had to play nonchalant. Gag.

"I can sympathize with that statement - 'Wow'. A CEO already, and how long have you been here? They should award you a trophy for that record." She grinned, cheeky, at implying she didn't already know. If it got him to talk about himself, that'd still be helpful. "Hello, Handsome, my name is Lyn Frei. But now I'm envious, I should've thought to name myself Lovely Lyn. Shame! It's too late now, I already bought business cards."

Loki nodded along. Of course she was right. She could count the number of times she was wrong on one hand. And a few times she'd fight anyone to the death over having been right about, no matter what they said. Her expression lit up at the acknowledgement, however, chest warming. Gifts only carried the honeyed feeling further. She loved that, and immediately got her hands on them, examining both. "That's beautiful. Real gold? Thank you..." She put the watch on in front of him and showed it off, not shy to welcome this. Murmurs, "It sounds like you need something more than a man, Jack. It's an awful predicament you're in, but the patterns speak for themselves."

She leaned closer. "Your work force won't change, so you have to. This is a smart start. I can be your eyes and ears, and I happen to open them everywhere I go. You seem driven, you're going places, right? If that was an offer, I accept. You don't need to ask if I'm interested."

Being a good-looking CEO in his universe got him the attention of all kinds of beautiful women back home. Some of them had the personality of cardboard boxes, but others got by with a unique charm. Rowdy as Nisha was, she had that energy -- magnetic and electrifying. Lyn was the same as them. More controlled, but definitely tempting, like the sweet lure of a Venus flytrap.

Jack glowed at the praise. "They should. Apparently some of the other Dreamfolk go around delivering pizzas for cash? Imagine." He laughed, shaking his head. He'd already tasted being on top. There was no going back. "Lovely Lyn is right."

He watched her reaction to the gifts. He expected a thank you, but her putting on the watch was very flattering. She had a taste for the finer things, huh? They should get along easy.

"I don't skimp on materials, unlike some of my competition. Yes, it's real gold." He nodded. "Of course I am. Way farther than any of these jackasses. Consider yourself hired, Lyn, but not by Hyperion. Me. I need those eyes and ears to myself. I want you to watch around, gather intel, make sure these scumbags know they can't pull any shit. I'll give you personal IDs and your own bank account. Do you have any other skills that could help with the job more? Any other employee requests?"

Loki was taking the real gold as an up front bonus for her services. Imagining what the actual pay could be like almost made her drool- but that'd be unladylike. She hummed and took a chocolate from the box, putting it on her tongue to let it melt before chewing and swallowing it. "Many can boast, even call themselves pretty titles, but you have the action and presence to back it up, Jack. I look forward to continuing to witness it, and make a pact with you to never resort to delivering pizzas. May we always be in good fortune, and may the only direction we go in be upwards."

She laughed. "I prefer it that way! If I'm only responsible for pleasing you, I can dodge a stiff dress code and making obligatory friendships with boring, backstabbing weasel office workers. No offense meant to the way you're running things, you said it first and it sounds like I'm going to be working against them." A special bank account! Loki whistled, dreaming again of zeroes that were hard to count. She wanted to take out physical cash and make a dress out of it, even though she could simply make an illusion for that, then get Jack to kiss her in it. Was she getting ahead of herself? You had to aim high, and it was already working, why not get ahead?

Loki knew this would come. She licked her lips, thinking. There was still a little nervousness lingering at revealing too many of her trump cards, but she wasn't about to get a better gig, she had to show her hand to be seen as competent. Not to mention, she wanted to be more than that. Close to this powerhouse, a highly rewarded secret weapon, and handed his own secrets along with those of his employees and enemies. She wanted everything. She'd get back what she lost.

Loki stood up from her chair, holding up one finger to tell Jack to wait. A green light shimmered over her form, and suddenly, she appeared to be one of the Hyperion employees she'd seen exiting the building earlier. He pulled a calculator from a pocket and pressed random buttons with a stressed expression, eyes flickering up to Jack and down again in terror, pushing falling glasses up his nose. Another flash, and she was a Kin'nal, one of the races here, a three foot chameleon shyly looking at her feet and mumbling in a hissing dialect. She walked forward and shifted to a cat, hopping up on Jack's desk, watch slipping off of her, which she batted at before purring and rubbing at Jack's hand, fur texture realistic.

One more shift and Loki was himself again, albeit male, still perched on Jack's desk on his side now and with his legs once again folded. He plucked the watch up and put it back on. "The shapeshifting, mainly. It holds up under physical touch and scent, and not every shifter can include props and wardrobe changes, can they? But I have other abilities. Small conjures." He flicked his wrist, and there was a business card for Lyndon Frei, which he slid over. "Telekinesis, but I'd rather not launch anything out your nice windows, so another time, perhaps. And..." He hesitated here, before sighing. "I used this while waiting and observing outside earlier. I can mask my presence if I'm subtle-- no yelling and banging pots and pans-- and nobody's already expecting me to be somewhere. Revealing myself to one individual alone is doable, as well, which you may have use for."

"Well? Is my resume up to par, boss?" His tone was smug, daring Jack to find a single reason to not fight tooth and nail to hire him, "Or do you find me woefully under-qualified for this work?"

Huh. Ass-kissing. Really specific, finely tuned ass-kissing. Jack loves it, and he loves what follows even more.

Magic. Jack expected nerdy gadgets before the meeting, but she stepped into his office in a gown, no bulky computer bag or anything. The fluidity, vividness, and speed with which she shapeshifted was already useful. Just looking at it opened up a lot of doors in his mind, and as an aside, heavy attraction directed at Lyn's direction. Even as a man, he was still dazzling to look at and be around. Jack might've been the most powerful man in his universe, but deep in his heart, he was still attracted to displays. He looked at the card he gave her, feeling his heartbeat loud in his throat.

"That's, wow, that's uh... that's really... really cool..." He looked away for a bit, mentally berating himself, composure totally gone. They started out so well, too. He coughed. "You're not qualified at all. You're super qualified. The most, in fact. You're hired... wait, I already hired you."

He sighed. Focus on the job and not how much you want to bone in this office right now. "I'll, uh, set up a private line between us using the Hyperion servers. I don't want the government tracking our movements. I prefer one-on-one conversations, considering that has less risk. I'll give you my private address because trips to my office might be suspicious. Do you... already have a place to stay, or would you like me to get you one?"

Well, one couldn't call making an impression on someone with this much influence overkill! Loki grinned from ear to ear as Jack stumbled over his words. "Thank you, sir-- isn't it? I've had endless fun with that over the years, as I'm sure you can imagine." The ones who were outwardly tripped up usually had plenty of ideas distracting them. Loki couldn't wait to hear about it. Handsome Jack, especially, seemed like he'd be creative in his fantasies.

He'd been fishing for praise, but still laughed, relief and amusement both heavily present in the sound. "I'm honored to have been hired twice. I won't have you regret it, and I'll start as soon as you give the word. I'm itching for higher goals to pursue, in fact." A thoughtful pause. Loki hopped from the desk, looking at Jack's view from the windows and clasping his hands behind his back. "There does not appear to be a particular rush in this realm, it's more akin to visiting a resort if one keeps their head down, but nonetheless, I am unsatisfied letting myself be led wherever the wind decides to blow. And perhaps inexperienced in the ordinary." It never seemed permanent.

Loki turned to Jack again, scoffing. "Thank you for having some sense. It's a shockingly rare resource, you know. Even worlds apart. But if we need an excuse for my paying you an emergency visit at work, it wouldn't be difficult to explain." His form melted back to female, long hair down this time and missing the dress, lingerie in green, her colors instead of his to seal the deal.

"The same cramped space everyone else is assigned. It's a little humiliating." Loki pouted and bent over to be at eye level with Jack where he sit. Not that she expected him to be making eye contact. "I don't know, why don't you tell me... Do I look like a girl who deserves the default treatment, Jack? When I can give back so much more?"

Different topics were easier, so he decided to focus on that. He turned his chair to watch Lyn, glancing at the same view. The other towers were too close in height. Jack wanted skyscrapers. Luxurious offices. Massive statues of himself in heroic poses. "Aifaran seems quiet, but I don't want to be complacent. Back in my dimension, Hyperion was a superpower, not a startup company. We gotta show this city we have what it takes to come up on top."

Sense wasn't something people usually attributed to Jack, but he, personally, thought he had a lot of it, and he was glad someone finally agreed. His eyes were wide again as Lyn shifted in front of him. His eyes were focused straight at her cleavage. He swallowed. Oh, well... how could he say no to that?

"I can... arrange a place for you... don't, uh, don't worry about that." He stood up abruptly. Was it hot in here or was it just his raging libido. "I'll have your accounts and arrangements straightened out soon. If there isn't anything else, uh... are you... are you single, by any chance?"

Kindred spirits were appreciated. Even if (allegedly!) unhinged. Jack had experience, he wasn't a joke. Hyperion was something to be reckoned with, and if anything was going to end up burning around them, Loki wanted a nice spot to hide behind the guy with the flamethrower. That, or a luxury bomb shelter. Though... she again made note to dig for details on that home dimension. Much to do here, much to learn. For the time being, Loki was visibly relieved.

Loki would boast of delicate charm and conversational dancing at a later date, but sometimes, she really just let her looks do the talking. And it worked. The thrill of the chase had calmed down at this point, she'd already won the big prize. They were playing. She leaned back as Jack stood but didn't budge an inch from his personal space bubble, smile easygoing, air quite assured, very 'I'm meant to be here'. "You're so generous, Jack. A gentleman." She was fully aware of the irony of saying that. "I've been impressed throughout this interview. I think it went well, and I do hope you agree."

"By chance, I am. If you don't dislike a little fluidity, that is... and I find it hard to believe you aren't widely chased after." She hummed softly and reached for Jack's hand, taking it and letting it hover over her waist, not pushing but offering. "I can return your generosity. The interview is over, but not only can this keep going well, it could get vastly better."

Jack shrugged. "I'm not looking to tie you down. And, hey... If the worst thing about a bombshell of a woman is that she's a little fluid, then I'm pretty damn lucky." He was a lot of things, but he wasn't a bigot. He adored her ambition and personality. He wasn't going to back off just because she wasn't cis.

While Jack had a reputation for being a bit of a playboy, he had some hesitation putting his hand on Lyn's waist. It wasn't how he wanted to go about it, at least with her. He wanted -- a, what? A connection? He knew damn well if Nisha appeared on the island, he'd drop everything to be with her, but he couldn't deny the way his thoughts and hearts raced around Lyn. This wasn't his first choice, but he'd be damned to turn it down. He moved his hand up and tucked her inky black hair behind her ear and pulled her down to kiss her, synthetic mask texture picking up the texture of her soft lips and the taste of her harsh lipstick.

"Yanno, I'm inclined to agree."

He pressed a button on his desk. Shutters rose up and covered up the windows of his office.

Edited 2018-06-03 13:24 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[open] if you wanna cry about something, i'll make it something worth crying for

closed to leo;

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Crime 1

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Crime 1 | May 26th

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Hyperion!

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closed to tim;

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closed to loki;

Re: closed to loki;

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