This chapter is HEAVILY cut. Let me say that the director's cut of this one would count up to at least three times this one's length. See, writing it that far I'm afraid would only confuse any reader even more, so therefore the more explicit scenes of X & F's small-talk gets cut out. This probably results in that the dear Trickster's behavior remains or gets even harder to understand, including Firia's. Just go with it. Though, if enough people feel the need for it the whole dark conversation could be posted later as a side-post, when the main story (SA:M-A) is done. ^^;; /jen 2000-01-06
Somewhere in a little street café in the City of New York. Late Thursday afternoon, the people had gone from work to spare-time, the youth on their way out for the nightlife, the evening shift was about to start. The small café were crowded to almost the last table, but still embraced in a calm feeling somehow a step to the side of the usual stressed rhythm of the modern city. In between the hours, a small live band played by the little wooden dance floor for the customers and kept the pleasant feeling running smoothly through the afternoon towards the night. By one of the round tables near the farther end of the high classed -- but still not over-charged -- dining place, a group of four people sat in silence.
Two men and two women, two younger, and two slightly older. The females sat facing the males, both engaged in their respective drinks. A slim glass of red wine for the older, and tea for her friend. Matching with a large cup of coffee, the young man slowly tasted the dessert on the table -- some sort of warm pie, a specialty of the house apparently. The last member sipped his glass of Irish Coffee with a shadowed smile, as if he knew what was wagering on his friend's lips across the table.
"What the hell am I doing in New York?..." The lady once known as Firia Ul Copt, and now Fanny Conner, sighed under her breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She looked up at the purple-haired man in front of her. He looked back but let his drink excuse him from further speech.
"From Turkey, to the States, setting up a 'secret' research center outside the Big Apple, and having an afternoon snack in a fancy café in the better neighborhoods... All in the humble time span of just about two days." Fanny Conner's brown-haired friend and helper commented thoughtfully and picked up her large cup of tea. "I say that that would be a record in my opinion." Maggie sipped the hot brew calmly (she never really did have her friend's temper problem).
I have the situation under control he said... Firia sighed inwardly. Yeah perhaps so, but it was seriously out of grasp for her at the moment. The need to know more about the reappeared Mazoku just kept growing. How the HELL did he manage to pull up that research center for them in time. Unless, he'd been expecting it of course... That made sense, but it just raised more questions. How could he have known to expect it in the first place? Firia felt another headache brewing and seated it with another mouth full of her wine. Usually she preferred tea, but today the right little amount of alcohol seemed to be a good idea.
"Oh, 'Sometimes We Cry.'. Now ain't that a sweet song." Putting down his coffee, the man causing Firia's troubling smiled as he looked towards the little band and dance floor. "Would the Lady care to dance?"
"Huh?" Firia gave him a suspicious look. Rick arched up an eyebrow. "Now why in the world would I even want to touch...." He just smiled as she talked. The way he looked at her. Firia stopped. "Sure, why not." Rick and Maggie exchanged a 'did we miss something?' -- look while Xelloss just smiled wider as Firia excepted his hand and let her be led to the little dance floor.
Joining the only two other dancing couples, the blond woman and her purple-haired partner lay their arms in the traditional position and... well, danced. The slow pace of the music and the sad, yet well toned, lyrics embraced the café. Feeling cleaned up and dressed in new casual clothes fit to the late season better than her previous outfit had, Firia found the situation rather strange. She was dancing face to face (or that'd be cheek to cheek, whatever) with the Trickster priest. A true Kodak-moment if there ever was one.
The new soft dark jeans, the black boots, and the typical tight female shirt made her feel more content about herself than she had felt for weeks. -- Spending the days under the sun in abnormal warm weather for the season and on a dirty plane, didn't really boost your feel of appearance. And surprise, surprise, her dancing partner's choice for wear did put him one notch higher in her eyes on the fashion ladder tonight. Simple casual black trousers, dark purple polo underneath a dark plain summer/indoor jacket, black low boots and gloves, of course. At least he took the hat off indoors. That was good. Guess Rick was right when commenting 'he can if he want to'. She sighed as he led her around in an arc to the music. Will he ever get to the point? Blasted Mazoku.... She grumped.
"Having troubled thoughts...Fi-chan?" The wide smile was shining through even though it was just a whisper beside her head. Blasted, blasted, bastard jerk. Firia frowned as she heard him muse and tune down a chuckle over her shoulder.
"OK, -- what, Xel? How did you know? What do you know?" She answered back low. Hoping to ease some of the questions that did trouble her.
"So beautiful and so clueless, ne... Fi-chan?" Was the only response.
"Same old Namagomi... N' quit call me that." She threatened back in a low voice. Xelloss faked a hurt sob.
"Aww... But you are Fi-chan to me, Fi-chan." Xelloss giggled, and Firia cursed as they twirled around the small dance floor.
"Just give me a reason to continue this silly game." She said, giving it up. "You want to say something, say something. Cut to the chase Xelloss." He didn't seem to like that idea -- all too much enjoying their present situation. The dragon female turned her head a bit and gave him a serious look.
"All right... " He pouted disappointed but still refused to continue until she resumed the cheek-to-cheek position. Firia shook her head and obeyed, this time. She could feel the Mazoku invade her personal space a little too much when the song ended and the band changed to another slow. Ready to bash him for the intruding she was halted by a low sensual voice whispering two words. Soft lips against her hair, a warm breath to her ear, two words. Or rather; a title.
"Project M-A." As simple as that. Troubled, she soundlessly repeated the message as if to memorize the to her yet meaningless phrase. "It's quite simple... Goldie. I'm the only one who knows. The only one who cares... to know. And I need your help."
Now that was an interesting turn of events, Firia registered above the rest of the confusion. He needed HER? Perhaps she better play along just a little while longer, even though he was dangerously close. She bit her lip. Interesting cologne btw. Smelled almost fresh metallic... and reminded her of England strangely enough. Perhaps he'd bought it at Harrods? -- From what she'd seen so far, he sure seemed to have the budget for it. Wouldn't surprise her.
Nice thighs... I'm so much going to kill him. I wonder if he'll notice if I put arsenic in his morning bacon? Probably. The bastard. Cold coffee, I hate cold coffee. Good gawd... he's clinging to her like mad fer crying out loud! Women... they never object when they have a big wallet... Bastard. "Bla bla blablab yadda yadya baablabla bal bnal abl..." I think I deserve more pay. If for nothing else but because I put up with him. Man! If he takes her home and intends to boink her off while I'm on duty, he BETTER give me an own room a floor down... Grumble, grumble... "Blah balaye hey bla aba ria ablaoa ..." Where is the waitresses when you need 'em? This coffee is stone cold damnit! I should kill him in his sleep and steal his credit cards, yea! BWAHAHA! .... God... I can't believe I just thought that... Sometimes I scare myself, really. Hello?! Waitress!!? My Coffee! The Big Apple in all glory an I can't have strait coffee even? Grrr... "Bla bla bblalabla bl and a nekkid Lara Croft..."
"Heh?"
Rick Grey blinked confused and looked up, only to be met by the face of his one remaining table mate. Maggie leaned forward on the table, both hands cupped around her cheeks, while giving him a lazy brown-eyed look from underneath half-shut eyelids.
"A penny for your thoughts."
Rick realized she probably had been talking to him for some time (not to mention how silly he must have looked), and turned redder than his crimson shirt. The assistant of unofficial business-lord 'Sel Metallium' rubbed his neck and laughed nervously.
"Eeheheh!... No. Uhm, waitress?!"
Rick turned a flushed face away and waved a hand towards the nearest girl on shift at the time. Maggie held her position at the table, watching the young man and silently wishing she'd encountered him a few years earlier. To think what he could have helped her grades in that course she took on Psychology some years ago... Imagine how impressed the professor would've been in the light of THAT essay! Sure would have been more interesting than that psychoanalysis of her little brother.
M-A. What was that? And why did he need her? Questions, questions. She could almost hear his heartbeats. Did Mazoku have hearts anyway? No... But if he faked his eyes, why not a heart too. Something was deadly out of place here. And it was NOT the two strange guys sitting at a shadowed table in the farthest corner of the café arguing over a pot of tea. -- Even though they did look rather strange.
"Xelloss...?"
No answer.
"What do you want? Xel, you..." Her hand on his shoulder, his arm tight around her waist, his hand holding hers, feet hardly even dancing anymore. Firia felt an uncomfortable feeling in her gut. "Let me go Xel. Now. We'll talk later, okey?" No reaction. Now she was worried. After a few more steps, she tried to open up the dancing embrace so she could look at him, but found it impossible. Like a vice. Left totally creeped-out by this new strange behavior, Firia resorted to more old-fashioned methods. She kicked him in the calves.
A gasp and a pretty ungraceful stumble was what the dragon lady needed to slip out of the stiff possessive grip she a moment before had been imprisoned in. Trying to avoid as much attention as possible, she resisted the urge to stalk out of there quicker than quick, but stayed where she was instead pretending to everyone else that it was an accident. Firia furred her brow at the strange scene Xelloss' face gave her for a moment. Shocked, blinking surprised, like someone jerked back to reality from a self-inflicted deep death-sleep due to the consuming of too many sleeping tablets.
"I think I need a drink. Thanks for the dance." Firia said seeking, as she watched the man regain his posture and awareness of his surroundings. He nodded and followed her to the table on the verge of a hesitant walk.
"Having fun?" Firia stretched and pulled out her chair with a strained breath, well back with the others again. Maggie smiled and shrugged her shoulders meanwhile Rick seemed EXTREMEly interested in his new cup of brewing hot coffee.
"You two seemed awfully intimate though." Maggie grinned at her friend and gave her a look from behind her glasses. "You know, you still haven't told how you two know each other. I can't believe you have kept it from me that you know such a jet! I mean, he sure acts like one." Rick decided not to comment on that at the time and let it pass. Firia shrugged.
"Let's say it is a long story, ok..?" She massaged her temple absently. It sure was no lie. Wait a minute... "Where...?" The blond woman looked at the empty chair across the table. Hadn't he been right behind her? The two others looked just as confused at first, until Rick instinctively looked towards the front of the room and caught a glimpse of something dark and purple.
"Aw, man!" The tall young man let his head sink down into one of his hands and then hurriedly jumped to his feet. The two women looked clueless at him and turned to try and see what he had noticed, without any luck. Rick stood up, hesitated, leaned on the table nervously and looked at them. "Uh, you take the bill okey? Just save the recite? I'll make sure you get it back later, key? Right. Thankx!" Firia and Maggie watched as the young man dashed away between the many small tables towards the entrance and the closet, earning a glare from a nearby waitress.
"What was that?"
"I don't..." Firia narrowed her eyes as the somewhat familiar figure of a tall slim man in a long coat and hat walked pass the large panorama windows of the café's front, onward down the street. "You take this, I'll see you back at the Hotel."
Maggie watched her friend literary run up and out, leaving her alone with the bill. A moment after, Rick's running silhouette could be seen passing outside the windows, soon followed by a certain blonde woman hurrying after. Maggie leaned her chin in her hand and drummed her finger to the table. "Yeah, sure... don't mind me..." She let out her breath and leaned back in her chair.
The air cold, making each breath into transparent puffs of white mist around every man's head, and effectively clearing any foggy brain. At least any normal foggy brain. Hair pulled out of his face into a short ponytail, hat pulled down over his eyes, and hands in pockets the man walked steadily down the side of the street. The open long straight coat flapped slightly behind him in the gentle winds. For once, the weather was calm in between the skyscrapers and the subway almost empty. Walking down the dirty stairs with unnatural grace, the man casually seemed rather out of place. One effortless side-jump over the ticket gates later, and he strode further into the underground maze. The few people down at the station took surprisingly little notice of him as he stopped by the platform hands still in pockets. The random noises of the big city echoed in the tunnel and mixed with the voices of the other people down there. A drunken man lay sleeping in a corner underneath a graffiti covered wall, a couple of over-decorated middle-aged women argued over something while smoking cigarettes, and some young adults walked pass the tickets booth in the background without the woman within said a thing about it. No one noticing the expensive clad man waiting for the next train. Correction, all but one did not notice.
One sneered and narrowed his dark yellow eyes and stared at the man in the long coat from his dark corner. Mumbling something he spat away the cigarette he'd been smoking and reached inside his worn leather jacket. The unmistakable glint of metal gleamed in the sterile subway lights as he released the safety lock on the illegal handgun and reached out his arms to aim. THIS time... A grin spread across his facial features as he blew away an aqua-colored lock of hair from his face. THIS time... The sound of running feat coming down the stairs drowned into the background as the train barked into the little station. The screeching sounds of breaks and doors in need of an oil-job opening, people walking across the stone and concrete floors. The man in the coat stood still a moment more, waiting for some other people to walk pass. The aqua-haired one in the shadows smiled at his target's turned back.
But just as two running persons reached the platform and the dark man shifted his weight to move, a gloved hand closed itself over his mouth and another grabbed his gun arm pulling him into the unseen depths of the shadowed corner. The target walked silently unknowing onto an almost empty wagon, with the two late runners following his example two coaches back. Letting out an angry but helpless sound, the aqua-haired man watched as the train's doors slid shut again and left the station picking up small tumbling winds causing any eventual stray newspaper to twirls across the floor. Behind him in the darkness another dark-clad man grinned a predatory grin as he held him in a steady-fast grip. Slitted pupils glowed seductive lupine behind dark glasses and short white hair moved with the turbulent winds. "No, not this time either..." he whispered to the now angry man in his grip. "Just be patient... Your turn will come eventually, Valtero-san...". Letting go of his captive, the stranger stepped back. The strange identification card on the front of his jacket was what gave the last sparkle of his figure in the lights before he fell back completely, treating a swift eye with the insignia of a black/purple wolf's inside a circle and only the letters 'WP' where a name should have been. 'Valtero' drew a harsh breath and whirled around gun in hand, but as usual only empty dark space met him. A loud creative curse echoed through the underground station.
"Is... he often like this?"
Firia couldn't help but stare at the strict but massive expensive inside of the elevator she stood in. Rick sighed at her side, not quite as impressed. Or rather, used to the sight by now.
"No. Just sometimes... It was quite a while since last time actually. What DID you two talked about when you danced anyway?" Firia just gave him a look to answer that when the elevator reached the top floor and the doors opened. They both stepped out. Firia looked down the corridor. The floors were covered in a dark blood-red carpet and the grayish-white stone wall's only light were one lamp every five meters that cast a calm warm almost fire-like light. The clirring sound of keys caught her attention back to the young man who had began walking down the other way, knowing very well his destination. She hurried to catch up.
A distant scent of ... earth?, greeted the archeologist as she stepped inside the doors of the top-floor flat. Hanging off their clothes in silence, she surveyed the surroundings quietly. The lights were dimmed without exception, which gave the tall ceiling with its wooden beams an old aura of mystery and depth. Rick's footsteps over the wooden floor made dull echoes as he walked down into the room. Following his lead, Firia watched the large paintings, metal ornaments and cloth tapestries that decorated the walls throughout the house. Large bookcases, thick oriental carpets, and expensive furniture. Even though Fanny Copper never had lived an especially poor life, it still was a sight she'd rarely seen before. She halted when her male lead suddenly stopped before a door. A small private living room it seemed, complete with an open fireplace. Upon the stone shelf of the fireplace the impressive stuffed form of a wolf loomed in a proud posture, head leaning down towards the floor. Above the quiet animal a strange sculptured image of a dragon and a dark monster devil hung high up on the wall. Except for the fireplace, the only other furniture in the room were a thick bookcase covering one whole wall, a set of armchairs and a sofa, plus a table and a working-bench by a side. A man sat quiet in one of the armchairs, facing the two panorama windows that showed the dark cityscape far below them and the dark clouded skies above.
Firia looked up at Rick questioning. Hesitantly pulling a hand through his dark hair, the youngster just shrugged. "I'll make something warm to drink..." he whispered before leaving her alone in the door opening.
"Seeing something interesting out there... ?"
Firia silently folded her arms and leaned on the back of the one occupied armchair looking down on the head below, covered in thick shiny purple strands of hair. She wrinkled her nose as she inhaled the dry scent of vodka from the glass in his cupped hand. He didn't answer.
"Xelloss." Arms still folded, the blond woman walked around the chair and positioned herself right in the man's vision before the windows. "You need help?" She asked him simply, humoring him with the last words he'd spoken during their dance.
Xelloss' lips formed a straight hard line as he watched the city lights cast a cold light illuminating her silhouette, giving it a fine glowing contour outlining her dark figure against the background. Good Lords, the hunger. The hunger! He drew in a quivering breath through his nostrils, just looking at her.
"Yes."
Firia watched the Mazoku drown the rounded glass in one swift motion before letting out another breath and liking his lips coldly. All the while staring intensely at her. One part of her, her Ruyzouku part mainly, screamed Run for yor god damned life, girl!! by the way those dark lupine eyes stared at her. Firia was glad though, that she'd learnt to listen to her intellect rather than her temper on later days. "What is Project M-A?"
"It's simple." He answered in a monotone voice. Closing his eyes for a second he waved out with an arm from the elbow and up. "It's just the fate of our world." The long slim naked fingers on his outstretched hand slowly closed themselves into a delicate strong fist in pace with his eyes reopening to look at her. "And that's it." No expression what so ever.
"The fate? What fate?"
Xelloss' mouth curled up in a sneer, which changed into a wicked smile by her return question. "Clever." He whispered. "Chaos." Firia could have sworn he did not blink those eyes at all over the last minutes. She let out a breath and pulled a hand through her hair. She looked at the Mazoku from the corner of her eye. He was drinking again (see, it's important that parents/superiors put a good example for their youngsters. -- for shame, Juu-ou-sama!).
"Well! Who'd thought, the infamous Xelloss Metallium need the help of lil' ol' me..." Firia mocked. "Can't you handle it by yourself, I mean, you should be a veteran by now Xel! Look here, an expensive flat, a.. " She bit down on her lip almost painfully, by he animal growl that erupted form the background.
"Don't you DARE mock me, Firia Ul Copt!!"
Said female spun around to meet a pair of mad purple eyes staring wide open at her. Flown up from the chair he stood hunched over vodka-glass still in hand, face pale, and his free hand balled into a hardened fist.
"DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I'D BE HERE IF I COULD HAVE DONE IT MYSELF?!!"
She almost felt his sharp breath sting her face even from that distance.
"Well, DO YOU?!!"
He must feel her fear by now. Perhaps it had been a too daring move. The thick window glass felt ice cold against her back. She felt trapped. But she wasn't the only one. The high-pitch snap torn the ears when the exclusive liquor glass crashed to the floor in front of the fireplace.
" -- DAMN YOU L-SAMA!!!!"
Firia watched horrified. Hugging his head between his arms the once Trickster priest of Zelas Metallium whined and shook like a caged animal on the edge of insanity. The only sound there after was the sound of Firia's own racing pulse and the sound of his still form's shivering jerks. Otherwise, there was only silence.
Silence.
Fate giggled... History sighed.
Silence.
Swirling spirals of transparent joyous hot air curved and danced up from and over the small round cups of tea on the table. The room lay in silence. No, not silence, -- rather in a quiet, content rest. Two figures occupied the small sofa overlooking the panorama windows. Outside, the glowing silhouettes of the city still outshone the stars on the black night sky, and the clock ticked towards 01:00.
"I bet Ceifheed was surprised. I sure was." The woman by his side said out loud, a slight hint of sarcasm and amusement in her voice. Firia held her arm around the Mazoku's tired shoulders while he lay leaning down on her own in return. Silently twirling some strands of silky purple hair around her finger, the woman thought back on the last hour's conversation. If you could call it that. It had been more like a frightened girl who looked at the caged animal on the brink of insanity while it shared bits and pieces of a story with her. The M-A Project. [3]
"I never knew you were the hero to save the world type, Xel."
The lazy smile on his face that moment he looked up from his calm slumber by her side was a personification of the abstract thing scared humans long ago tried to explain, when someone with complete horror spoke the word of 'evil' for the first time. His lips mused as he titled his head slightly to the side, still smiling at her. He inhaled playfully.
"We just want to make sure it goes the... right way. Don't we, Fi-chan?"
Firia returned the smile inwardly. But said nothing.
Got'cha.
"Of course." The dragon female answered, sensual stroking his cheek with the tip of her finger -- for once in the company of the Trickster priest knowing exactly what she was doing. To close his eyes was his only response, and to cling ever so slightly tighter to her. Like only shadows cling to light.
Life is just like a good ol' game of Chess.
Ne?
[3] -- You didn't think I'd drop all the info in one place, now did you?