A Stranger I Remain (Nas/Closed/M)

[Painterlee]

The faux-demon breathed out, not so much sighing at all. Her shoulders dropped lower, but not out of anything too troublesome. She had told him that she would tell him about them, if he wanted. That they would help him to piece together why he had come back in the first place, and it had less to do with her stealing his soul than he might realize on his own. Besides, that mark was just as much about him as it was about her. Probably more so about him, in the truth of it. They were on her skin, but she had not been the one to put them there.

Her hands reached back to hold his, burned by the silver in not short measure, and a pang hit her heart as it reminded her of what she had done to him once. "They are...not there through any will of mine." Her words came slowly at first, trying to piece together how to explain something she herself didn't fully understand. It was hard to understand the how's of things, when you were the only example in the Universe. "I don't really know what to call them, honestly. Tattoos, marks, bindings, whatever you fancy, really." She pulled the blanket up further. "I remember that the top one, I got it a very long time ago, when I was young. See, I only know who 'gave' it to me. It was the man my father brought with him now and again. He was a man who played beautiful music, and he attempted to teach me when no one else was looking."

"When I look back, though, I don't feel anything. My best guess as to why that is, is that I was human, or close to it, at the time. When I transitioned into, well, this, the reasons, the emotions, never made the jump over, got left behind. But he left this mark, anyway." She thought for a moment, leaving him to notice that the top one was far more worn than the bottom one, but showed no signs of going away. "All I know about them come from you. When-" She stopped herself momentary. "When I found out I had it, I was busy being thrown about in the dungeons of Connloath. One of the White Lily's asked me what it was out of interest and I couldn't tell her.  But I knew." Her eyes met his. "Oh gods I knew."

"From what I can tell, from all I know, they are signs. They appear when I find someone who fit's the role of what I hate, the reason I was, but didn't quite fit. It's a joke, a tormented punishment.  I was only allowed to feel things for the types of people I felt contempt towards. The people who had turned me into what I am. Back, all those years ago, I made the mistake of spending too much time on you. Too much time with you. We shared things in common, I couldn't help it."

"It connects me to you, forever, no matter what happens to either of us. You are the second, and the last, man I'm ever going to be able to feel anything other than hate towards. It's a way I feel more than just hate. Through it, through you, I can feel love, despair, longing and loss." Something changed around the two marks, skin turning white, uneven. "There is nothing I can do to help it." Scar tissue, overwhelming amounts. Echos of harm inflicted upon herself in some desperate means to try and remove them. Remove the people they bonded her to from her heart. "I tried. I tried so hard to help it. To make them go away." She pulled herself in more. "I don't know how I get them, only that I have no control over it. I don't know what they are, exactly, because I have no one else to compare them to."

"What they are not are my personal signs of affection, they are not mine. One of them is yours. And they bind me to you, your soul, and your heart, forever, regardless of whether you always feel the same. It is the mark you left on me. The mark you will always leave on me."

[Nascent]

"I... I see..."

Long ago, when they'd first met, Mephisto had assumed Belle to be a demoness -- their connection as 'creations' of a certain deplorable arch-sorcerer all but assured him of that. Looking at those marks, however, two strange crosses -- crosses, of all things! -- surrounded as they were by scars and terrible signs of violence she had inflicted on herself, he wasn't in the least bit sure anymore. It had been a label that, in that ancient age, had fit an agent of rage and retribution such Belle...

He had made so many assumptions with her, Mephisto realized. Assuming that she had involuntarily succeeded where Faustus had failed, that her wrath against mankind was a sign that they were the same somehow, no matter how different. Perhaps 'demon' was a meaningless word... perhaps, in the knowledge of this age, there was a greater truth about them both to be found than some archaic word for evil spirits. They were both, certainly, so much more than that.

And the marks... something, some force, that bonded her to others against her will. One to a man who was, doubtless, now just dust on an almost-abandoned Earth... and the other to him, a somewhat high-functioning nigh-on lunatic who fancied himself an incarnation of evil mostly because no one had ever quite convinced him otherwise. There was sympathy in his mind and eyes as he considered those marks now. To be bound to someone by chains unbreakable, only able to feel alive in some ways when they 'allowed' you to. It was sadistic, a cruel punishment that seemed like it could only have come from a crueler still punisher. Was this the price she paid for rebelling against the life that had treated her like a doll, a plaything? Or was it some cosmic twist of fate foisted upon her regardless of her circumstances, some malevolent cosmic joke at her expense? The thoughts of it all, what she must have experienced, the sense of isolation, made his head spin. No wonder she feared what he could do to her if so inclined...

... were the roles reversed, how then would he respond? What manner of hell would dominate the dark places of his mind?

Almost on instinct, he decided. She would feel the moment that the demonic black blade flicked into existence in his hand -- at this distance she could hear the air hiss and feel it tingle with the release of energies. The devil acted swiftly, trying hard not to give her time to respond; deft reflexes, too long unused, flexed and fired and sent muscles in motion, unfamiliar as that motion would be.

As the tip of the blade pressed into the back of Mephisto's own neck, he bit down, drawing black blood from his lower lip. The first cut went straight down -- his eyes burned bright white with willpower, forcing back a pain far greater than the silver chain. The cut had to be deep to leave a mark, otherwise it would simply heal on its own. The thin line burned with demonic red and black flames as he seared not only flesh but his very concept of himself; wounds were to him like splinters, foreign things to be extracted from his essence and core being, but this... this was different.

He wanted this. It had meaning and both were being chiseled into the very weave and make of him.

His free hand gripped his hair hard, pulling it to one side... and threatening almost to tear it out as he fought to endure. This was no mere flesh wound, but surgery upon the very depths of his existence. He gasped and grunted in anguish as the vertical cut came to an end... then sucked in a hard, sharp breath and gave himself no time for hesitation as the knife went in again, this time horizontal. He wanted to scream, but held it. He had endured far worse, and kept telling himself that as black blood ran down his back in tiny rivers, lighting and burning into mist as it fell. With his hand he bore the mark of her into his skin -- with his mind he bore it into his soul. It wouldn't be the same as hers -- he had no means to recreate such a thing, no knowledge of what could have done that to her. It was a gauche and carnal imitation at best... but it left a message. A message he could now NEVER forget, not for a single moment of the rest of his life.

I.

BELONG.

TO YOU.

Pulling the knife out, its work done, Mephistopheles howled in pain, the instrument of his self-torture vaporizing as it fell from his grasp. Teeth clenched, eyes screwed shut, he willed himself to endure, to wait it out, to resist and force back the powers within him that were trying to undo the "damage". His hands grabbed at the bedding like claws, taking fistfulls of sheet and mattress and holding onto them with a horrible desperation. Slowly, still racked with pain, he forced one eye open and looked at Belle.

"... Never again."

"... You will never have to be alone again."

"I swear to you!"

[Painterlee]

The expression on her face was one of horror, a pained agony. But she couldn't stop him, he didn't want her to, so she couldn't, and even then, the actions left her paralyzed, unable to really process what he was doing while he was doing it. In the wake of his words, she left a heavy silence. Stunned and hurt, that he would see fit to damage himself this way in the wake of her torment. Her eyes just looked into the one he peered at her with. She was at a loss as to how she should respond. A strange mixture of pure outrage and humility, unlike whatever odd emotions she had felt over the short course of the last few days.

The back of her hand met the side of his face in an act she didn't even think on, her expression changed to one more of distress, a burning and confused sadness.

"You don't have to do that to yourself to show it!" She raised her voice at him, but not shouting, certainly a concerned tone. "Why do you have to have all this drama, these outrageous acts of whatever! I'm happy with this, just this. Just this tiny space, with shitty food and a shitty bed with old covers that you make comfortable! You don't have to prove anything, you don't need to make a show you just...have to be here." A moment, she just looked at him. "Why is that not enough for you?" Was she being hysterical? She didn't know if she was acting as she would normally. Once again those chemicals her brain created because of him threw her train of thought off completely. Eventually, searching his one open eye for clarity, she leaned back up, heart thundering in her chest.

She couldn't say that. Her eyes softened, though still confused there seemed to be understanding in the ice-blue eyes of his demoness. He had done this because it had felt right for him to do so. In his own way, he was allowed to do whatever he knew was right, and if that meant reflecting a mark she bore at his own suffering, a symbol to himself, then she would be heartless in an attempt to either stop him, or shame him for it. It was not her choice to make. His body was not hers to police or criticize. After all, she had lived thousands of year, unable to escape those who would criticize her choice, her body. She, of all people, should have known better. "I'm sorry." The words of apology drifted, and her thoughts placed upon them. His choices were his. She had no rights over them or concerning them.

After a short few moments, she moved closer to him, kneeling as she leaned over to kiss him. She understood. And that was fine. The kiss was soft and slow, before she broke it, to once again sit facing him, legs around his waist, as she held him close to her, skin to skin, she willed that silver necklace out of being, for now, not wishing to burn him. "I'm sorry." Her words came again into his ear, realizing her moment of insanity, of stupidity. She, like him, placed a kiss on his shoulder. "But don't hurt yourself like that again." Her mind reached out to his, and she helped him to suppress the pain, but not to erase the wound. It was important to him, and the least she could do was respect that. "We are two lunatics floating in the middle of the cold void. The least I could do is not hurt you." Her laugh came self-mocking. Though, the question soon came, either way. "Do you want more than this?" The question was vague for a short few seconds. "Than shitty food and a shitty bed, with an old cover that only you make comfortable?"

Every time it got like this, she would happy repeated the past of not long ago. She had spent 5000 years living with herself, and her love for him. It wasn't surprising he lit her up so easily just by being close. She had no clue, just that all they had done, everything he had made her feel, it wasn't a scratch on the pain of the years alone. But she would embrace it as it came. She would love him as he pleased. And in the moments when they needed to realize, they were still trying to find where they fit each other, patience was a virtue, and the only virtue they need ever learn.

[Nascent]

"I..."

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Part of him knew she would be shocked at his action, perhaps disappointed or enraged even. It wasn't even something he had really thought about... just an impulse, a desire in some way to share her burden, to reflect his trials in himself, even if it was mostly just a symbolic reminder.

"I want," Mephisto continued. "To be someone who understands, who honors and respects you. I want to be reminded, constantly, that there is someone in this 'shitty' galaxy," He uttered the profanity with a hint of a stupid grin mingling with the pain. "Who relies on me -- is trusting me -- with the parts of herself that she doesn't want to forsake, things she cherishes, reminders of what it is to be really alive. What I want, Belle, is to be the man -- the person -- you need me to be, consistently, unflinchingly."

"And I can't do that if I keep getting lost in myself. We've both seen what that leads to. So now I won't be able to see myself without seeing my commitment to you."

"Fate made those marks your bonds, your chains. But it made one big mistake when it did that." The devil smiled at her through the pain. "It bonded you to someone who doesn't believe in fate."

Mephisto sighed and leaned into her embrace. "I am yours, now and for however so long as I manage to live. Whenever you need me, however you need me. A lover, a shoulder, someone to make shitty beds more comfortable. Someone to listen. I just... wanted to do something to get myself out of the way so I didn't muck it up every time you need me."

The last of the blood burned away, leaving a strange scent like incense in the air and a clean black cross-shaped scar on the back of his neck. He could feel it throbbing there... and somewhere else, an edifice in his mind. "Gods, I must seem so stupid to you sometimes. I'm supposed to be sly and clever, but all I usually manage is to fall on my face in an assortment of ridiculous poses." He laughed, and the laugh hurt. "Wherever you want to go -- a high-end space station, a train wreck of a world, somewhere that no one's ever set foot on before, hell itself -- I'll go there with you. And if we ever have to part, you know I'm just a whisper away -- yours, now and always, yours."

[Painterlee]

Belle pulled herself away from Mephisto, looking at him. It was strange and awkward. They boasted glorious power and hate, they were the rivals of the universe, or so they'd made themselves out to be this whole time. But with her, and with him, those edifices faded away, melting under the touch of the other. For the longest time they had considered themselves demons; evil beyond comprehension, the rightful fury of mortal kind. This showed so much more than that. That they had more in common with the mortals they pitted themselves against than they had ever wanted to realize, and that truth came in the heart of the other.

They were an unnatural show. A canvas of beautiful skin and long throws of hair, lost in the forever night of the universe, and in turn, lost in the eyes of the other for as long as there were the eyes to look into. For now, and for the rest of their existence, they would find escape with each other. They were not justified by each other, however. Belle would never seek anyone to be justified for. Simply, they made this existence more bearable for the other. For that, they would both be forever grateful.

Her smile radiated back at him. In these moments she was so human, something she always should have been, just a hint of playful-evil in her ice eyes. Even with each other, they were corrupted. Not exactly the form of evil they had always imagined themselves to be, but they certainly were not good, or even neutral. After the pause, she pushed him over, her smiling growing into a playful grin, pinning him to the mattress, she leaned over him to adorn his neck with kisses. Her hands found his, and brought them above his head. "Then you won't mind if I use you for a while?" Once, she might have worried about what he thought of her, and her appetite for certain activities. It was something that only he could make her feel concern for, with other men she couldn't care less, but with other men, she'd never had the chance to truly indulge her urges. Her own powers reached into Mephisto's head, muted his pain, and enhanced in him whatever she felt. Her impulses, her desires. 

After all, no matter what, she would not force anything onto him, even at her own expense. She carried on, biting and teasing at the soft skin, happy just to lather him in all of her, to give where he could receive. And while giving what not something she would often do to men, he was an exception. He was the exception. She would always remember that, and she wanted him to know that, too, with all of his being, as her lips traipsed lower, moving away from his neck slowly. Her eyes watched him like a hawk, wanting nothing more than to see what her touch did to him.

[Nascent]

His smile was one of slightest surprise and true delight as she all but pinned him to the mattress, finding within himself no real desire to stop her. Stop her? Even after as much sex as they'd had in the last twenty-four hours, Mephisto was more than content to be used however she chose.

"Why stop at 'a while'?" The devil was clearly enjoying what she was doing to him, the way she was teasing and enticing him. She made him groan with desire and sigh with satisfaction, his eyes watching her take her time with him and absolutely relishing what he saw. Even though he knew Belle could 'mess with his head' to some extent he still felt himself melting and rising for her -- and not caring whether she was dabbling in his mind or just letting her touches and kisses intoxicate him for her. "Use me, Belle -- to your heart and body's contentment."

Mephisto lay as she had pushed him, content to move only his eyes and tilt his head up to watch her. Heavens and hells, she was insatiable... and he, for his part, absolutely loved that about her. Wondering what she had in mind was just one piece of the excitement; finding out exactly what she liked, and how, was another.

Gods, she was just impossibly beautiful.

[Painterlee]

As she moved lower down on his body, her hands trailed down his arms, and as she rested at his stomach, her hands came to press again at either side of his neck. Her thumbs pressing into the softness under his jaw, she tilted his head back. His voice reached ears and greatly pleased her. He was the only man in the universe she wanted to please in turn, the only man who's sounds were her only needed reward. Knowing that the devil could be melted at her hands was quite the starter for her own engine. He was her fuel, and he added to her natural fire in a way she couldn't describe.

Every kiss was placed with both love and desire, every bite a mark of ownership. She took her time like she was worshiping him. Belle believed in the importance and greatness of pleasure, it's natural place in the lives of everyone. If your body would let you feel it, then you needed to. She moved down again, tracing the line of his navel, but she lingered there for longer than usual, before moving back up to him again, rolling her body against his. Her lips met his neck again, baring her teeth again the skin. "Are you sure about that?" Her words came, taunting and telling. And before he could reply another noise came, and every 'screen' flashed a red hue, the ships voice blaring, breaking the perfect atmosphere between them.

ALERT - ALERT - ALERT - ALERT - HOSTILE SHIP APPROACHING


Belle shot up, her eyes suddenly filled with terror and frustration. "Looks like we'll have to finish this later." She pressed her lips to his passionately. Moving away, she grabbed his coat and threw it over her shoulders, placing herself in the pilots seat, it turning to face the controls. A face came up on her screen as she adjusted his coat, not really covering much, a live stream from the other ship. Belle pulled up another screen, information about the cruiser. It was larger, made to be maned by a small crew. She leaned over into the control-arms. A voice came through. "You'll have to jump further than that, sweet Belle." Her eyes narrowed as he paused. "...Not interrupting anything am I?" Belle snorted a huff. "What's it to you? Jealous?" The voice laughed back. "When I catch you...we'll find out." A threat. A threat with clear intent in it's purpose. "If." All the engines burst into life. FTL at 100 percent. Engines at full. Oxygen at 60 percent. Shield up. Weapons Active. She couldn't help but smile, and she shared it as the face smiled back. "You've been using quite a lot of that, haven't you?" The she-demon laughed. "Possibly."

The ship shot forward, she cut the call out, rocketing through the void of space. "Hold on Mephy!" In that second, she had seemingly nicknamed him.

C A N ' T  K I L L  U S
The Glitch Mob

The first shots came. Missiles edged at the edges of the screens outward. The Black Scarab rattled and shook. Here, at these controls, he would see her in an element of her own. The ship maneuvered under her will, flipping over on it's previous course, turning up-side down, gravity keeping them in place. Their ship came into view. There were separate turret areas, manually worked by two people. Cross hairs came up on the front panel. "Engaging Pulsar Laser!" She order the ship, and it obeyed. On the side on the controls, she flipped open a switch, steering closer and closer to the Thanatos ship. She pressed the button, and then pulled away last minute, blue-light firing straight into the hull, breaking through the shields as the rest of the ship passed by them. The laser attacked everything, shields were no problem.

She rounded back around, coming in, switching to bullets. The Pulsar was designed to do continual damage as it worked it's way through the ship. Ideally, you only need to use it once, and then keep the target busy. She pressed the button again, and the machine-gun repeater noise echoed along the structure of the ship, metal shells colliding with the shield, blue and white forcing trailing along the invisible force, occasionally breaking through to crash into the ship. She was targeting the engine compartments. She wanted to put them out of service for as long as possible. The bullets kept attacking, she kept firing. They had more fire power, but her nippy little ship had an excess in speed and agility. They swerved and dodged, as if they were invisible.

But that couldn't last.

A riddled string of bullets found their way across the shields, and weakened them. Weakened them to make way for an anti-shield missile. It collided, hitting with a force that would have thrown the cruiser into a spin. The force threw the ship, no doubt, Belle buckled over the control. She grit her teeth, but she saved it from going out of control. She'd spend hundreds of years behind these triggers, she knew how it worked. But she couldn't take shots forever. The FTL was up, but at this distance, they would have no trouble following in her trail. Her voice boomed, a determined panic in her voice. She had no way of getting through their shields on fire-power without specialized equipment. "How's your hacking?" Now she relied on her judgement. "Or at least know a guy who might be decent." Even if someone guided him through, better if he knew. If in his 5 short years his enterprises involved stolen information, then this would be a walk in the park.

Sheilds at 67 percent. Fuel at 90 percent. She needed her assumptions to be right. At least this time. Just this once. She could have done it herself, but she had her hands full. Trying to shake off their assault.

[Nascent]

Hell and damnation.

The moment he heard the alarm go off, all too much like it was there to rouse them both from a flawless dream, he knew they'd run out of time. Thanatos. The word burned at the forefront of his mind with a rekindled fire -- the murderous variety. The last time he'd faced their operatives it had been a fool's errand, since they had nothing to lose by fleeing. Now the situation was reversed...

... and escalating by the moment.

He was on his feet just a tick of the clock behind her -- faster than he'd expected, considering -- with the first set of clothes that came to mind materializing around his naked frame in twists of hellfire. It wasn't much and he didn't care; vastly more important things than wardrobe choices were going on right then.

The familiar voice coming from the video feed riled the demon's anger yet further, Mister Cloaked-In-Shadows emerging quite unpleasantly for the second time in much-too-soon. First he had a near-legion of agents at his disposal... and now a cruiser. This was not a foe without resources, and all of them seemingly bent upon Belle's capture. The singular focus unnerved Mephisto enough, the emphasis behind it even more so.

And then, after a brief bit of verbal sparring, the fight to escape and survive was suddenly on. He felt the ship lurch with momentum beneath his feet and steadied himself against the nearest bulkhead, a moment later uttering a playfully faux-wounded cry of " 'Mephy'? HAH."

And then, very quickly, Belle showed him how she could make the stars dance.

The demoness' ship was remarkably well armed, he had to admit. He also had to admit, with a touch of shame, that this was his first actual battle in space... and he found himself a bit outside of his element. Screens spun through ever-changing information and readouts fluctuated, some wildly, as he tried to orient himself and figure out how he could contribute to the situation. The unfortunate answer was 'not very well'. He had, over five years, adjusted himself well enough to computers as to be proficient, but that was the variety used for personal or business angles -- these, these were military machines, and he found just as much of it alien as he did familiar.

"How's your hacking? Or at least know a guy who might be decent."

Mephisto knew the basics, enough to break simple encryption (decently well, most of the time), but that was it. For just a moment after Belle's request he panicked, then pushed the feeling down hard. Focus. He might not know the skills needed, but...

... and then he panicked a second time. Try as he did, he was beyond reaching those he held a corrupted connection with on Cancer -- the devices of the time had methods to reach across the stars and ferry their meanings, but even with soul restored Mephisto simply didn't have the power. A brief moment of helpless trepidation snaked its way at the edges of his thoughts, then --

~Mephistopheles! Damn you devil, can you hear me or not?!~

A voice, a lone echo in his skull from much too far away to even speculate, broke the internal silence. Female. Strong. Uncanny in its familiarity, yet bearing something else that he didn't recognize, a dry crackling like fire and a sharp ringing like steel. The voice burned with a power all its own, one that maintained the tether across depths of void that never would have been possible otherwise. For not the first time that day Mephisto's mind spun, trying to place it, trying to--

~I'm not going to do the freaking deer-blood ritual again you lazy bastard -- there aren't any left, for one, and I--~

Impossible... but inescapably true.

~Juviel?~ Mephisto realized there was no time to be impressed. ~This is a bad time, whatever it is. Our ship is taking fire and--~

~Well I'll be damned, look who FINALLY picks up the psychic phone! Good time or not, we need to talk.~

~Maybe after Belle and I get done not dying.~ His fingers raced across the nearest computer terminal that seemed equipped for digital send/receive functions. ~I'm just a little busy trying to hack a cruiser's mainframe and have barely any damned idea what I'm doing.~

There was a pause on the other end; Mephisto wasn't sure until a few seconds later whether Juviel was even still 'there'. ~Cruiser, firing at you and Belle. I'm guessing you're just aiming to scramble their sensors, not get the master control codes?~

~Right now I'd consider myself lucky if I can give them a mildly annoying email virus -- it's a hells-damned Thanatos ship, so I rather need to focus and --~

~Mephisto, three things. One, shut the hell up. Two, shut the hell up...~

~And three? I damn near invented the computer, so listen close and do exactly as I tell you.~

Without a word more of protest, the diabolic man suddenly began transcribing line upon line of computer code as fast as his fingers could type, following instructions Juviel sent that were halfways knowledge and halfways well-honed instincts. And it was working. Barrier after barrier in the cruiser's network crumbled and fell away, leaving the ship exceedingly vulnerable. Mephisto grinned, then at last responded to Belle.

"Guy? Not one that's available."

"How about a really old friend?"

[Painterlee]

She smiled, all the while concentrating on the matter at hand; not dying. Dodging and diving, trying to escape the range of any real damage that she knew Thanatos could deal to her little ship. "Yeah, Mephy." She repeated. "If you don't like it, you can get off my ship." Her tone was playful and joking, despite the severity of their 'situation.

Their shots came fast, heavy, loaded with intent. Maybe they really didn't care if they had her dead or alive anymore. They certainly wouldn't take her alive if she could help it at all. But she also had Mephisto with her, and she wasn't going to throw him into her mess if she could help it. Though, the chances told her he had probably done that himself already. He always liked to get himself into her mess. Normally she wouldn't mind, but this might be more than he knew. This was something even she hadn't managed to escape from, and she'd been running for ten years.

While he busied himself, she was protecting both their hides best they could. She grinned to herself, despite it all. She still had uses for that hide of his. Of course, she knew Mephisto probably had never left cancer. Never even been into space in this way. No doubt was there in her mind that all that was happening now was a bit beyond him. Every piece of information, trying to keep track of the stars as so to correct the ship's trajectory, spacial awareness reached a whole new level on this playing field. Even she remembered it feeling like a bit too much when she had first undertaken the task of learning to fly such a thing. Learning to drive a car had been a walk in the park compared to this. Though auto-ships were available, unmanned ships like most of the cars, Belle stuck with her manual. Her years of learning would not go to waste. Her skill, the trust in her own judgement and reflexes were unshakable. She was one of the last pilots of caliber to use manual. 

Mostly, though she'd never tell you, she just didn't want to let Scarab go. Without her hands on the controls, her ship was no longer an extension of her. She loved this hulk of crap, and she only ungraded what she needed to.

"An old friend, eh?" Her grip on the triggers tightened. "She does a good job." Her scanners let her know, the shields were coming down. Inside the ship, there was panic. Despite their firewall, all their measures, the hack was a solid one. It did it's job like nothing they'd ever seen. "I want her to tell you how to cut their communications network, distress signals and all!" Her eyes narrowed on her prize. No, today was not the day they would take her. "I don't want to give them a chance." She prepared to fire, but not until the work was done. Too much damage to the ship would cut their computers out. "Then you set a course. They know me too well for me to choose where we go now."

[Nascent]

~The comms and distress beacon, Juviel -- can we do that?~

~Feh, at this rate? Not a problem. In fact...~

~Hm?~

~Just keep typing; I'm feeling a bit malicious.~

And type he did, after reassuring Belle that their 'old friend' was hard at work on it. He thought it a bit strange when Juviel had him pull up Belle's music playlist -- this was no time for that, in his mind, but Juviel was insistent he 'give her something to work with', so he went with it. The blacksmith found something in the early part of the list that seemed to satisfy her and had Mephisto build it into a particularly invasive bit of coding... which, if he was reading properly...

"Oh, this is good." 'Mephy' halfways muttered under his breath, grinning mischievously. "This is good."

Under Juviel's direction he re-checked his work, doing a swift mental reading of every line of code. A few minor corrections later, Mephisto hit 'TRANSMIT' like he was launching a nuke... and the Thanatos cruiser went straight to hell.

The code Juviel had him build went above and beyond all expectations. It rerouted all communications to the internal PA system and shut down any external transmitters through raw digital force, overloading them with mass-generated auto-code that would block out access attempts through sheer overwhelming odds. It took the digital paths that controlled the distress beacon and tangled them up in knots such that they interfered with each other... and that was just for a start.

All across the cruiser, the internal comms and speakers began to blare out an old, familiar song at maximum volume. It ran from every device, every headset, every phone. It was pervasive and relentless. And, as Mephisto let loose a sinister laugh at the sensor readings The Black Scarab was getting... the fire suppression systems in every part of the cruiser turned on, pulsing in time with the music, dousing the crew and equipment mercilessly in waves and pulses of water and flame-retardant foam spray.

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to see the looks on their faces!" The devil rejoiced, barely able to contain his chuckling. It was a juvenile prank taken into the space age and given teeth... and Juviel's expertise had pulled it off BRILLIANTLY. No useable comms, no distress signal... just the poor old Thanatos lackeys, left to 'face the music' in the most damp and soggy fashion imaginable. It was POETRY.

But as much as he would've loved to stay around and see them suffer, he and Belle had places to not be -- here being one of them. ~That was superb, Juviel! I'll have to thank you for that sometime.~

~Yeah, don't waste it. Get your sorry arse going; you and Belle better not go dying on me. And don't forget - we NEED to talk later.~

~You have my word.~ Mephisto quickly plugged in a set of coordinates and sent them to Belle's command screen. "It's a small nebula on the edge of an asteroid field, about one jump out from Edanith. We should be able to reach it. There are some pirates hiding in a small base there who owe me a favor -- the kind that can easily get us repairs and resupply. How's that sound?"

[Painterlee]

"Sounds like you're having way too much fun back there, and without me!" Belle commented, trying her best to avoid too much more of the Thanatos onslaught. They were ever more relentless, and even she knew this was more than Thanatos would usually expend for just a single woman. At some point, she was going to have to explain her situation. Why Thanatos had sent out him as the leading agent in her capture. She found herself in a position she had hoped to avoid for a little while longer. It was all she could do for the time being, make sure that they didn't get blasted into oblivion before their time while she ran around her new lackey, and his contact.

Though their amusement at her little trick was a shared experience, and Belle truly appreciated the extra effort, giving everyone on board the other cruiser a little more than anticipated. A grin on her face, she set her sights on the ships engine compartments and switched to missiles of her own. Driving the ship back around, she fired, and sent their engine flying out to space in pieces. Oh how that pleased her. They wouldn't be going anywhere for quite some time, and the look on the face of the man inside was one she would have dreamed about forever more, if she had only gotten to see it. She decided, while she could, to send one message to the cruiser, with a hack like Mephisto's informant, to occupy every screen.

ALL

FEAR

THE QUEEN

She took his coordinates gladly. "Edanith? Doesn't get more boring than that." She chimed. Before she could activate the FTL, she had to get away from the ship they would leave behind, just in case. The ship was much steadier, though clunking sounds indicated that, certainly, moderate repairs would be needed at the least. Belle patted the control desk. "Mission accomplished ya' old tin can." The words came with the fact that, for the longest time, this ship had been the only source of comfort, the only thing she had. Eventually, when Belle decided they were far enough out of range, she pulled the lever. FTL Engaged. Preparing for Faster-Than-Light Realization Belle looked over her shoulder at Mephisto with a knowing grin. "I promise, this won't be as bad as last time." And then she pushed the lever back up with a clunk.

Preparing for Faster-Than-Light travel. 10 seconds and counting.

As the ship counted them down, and prepared to shoot through the stars, Belle laughed to herself, before adding to the end of her previous statement. "At least, it shouldn't be." At that, the stars began to warp, streaks of light consuming the panels, bending physics to the will of science. The start of light-speed travel wasn't dissimilar to being on a roller-coaster, a pressure of g-forces that the ship was too slow to correct right away, but eventually died down as everything stabilized. Arrival in the outer zone of Edanith in half an hour. And it was still a distance. Traveling still took time. When everything set to normal, not too long after the initial wave, Belle got up, donning still only Mephistos coat, barely concealing her breasts. She leaned against the chair, and eyed him wickedly. "See, I'll make a crewman out of you yet."

[Nascent]

Her promise was true... and in fact, as he watched her, wearing nothing more than his coat and the black sapphire necklace with the viewscreen behind her, starlight smeared impossibly and bleeding vibrant colors at the edge of each brilliant white line...

... he wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything... quite so beautiful.

Without even really waiting for an invitation and acting entirely on the spur of the moment, Mephisto strode up to her and kissed her full on the lips before pulling back and smiling at her.

"That was the most fun I've had in a long time. Not the 'us getting shot at' part -- the other bit, where we worked together and threw mud in their eyes." His smile briefly resolved into a wicked grin of victory before returning to one of contentment. "I'll be your 'crewman' anytime you want me to. Might be a while before I earn my way to 'co-pilot', though."

"And you're right..." Putting his arms around her with a sense of familiarity and comfort that surprised and pleased the old devil, he turned his head slightly towards the viewscreen. "This is better. I never knew that starlight could look like that."

Mephisto paused. "I... never said it properly, so let me do it now. Thank you, for bringing me along with you."

[Painterlee]

Belle smiled that same wicked smile at him, looking very contented at his kiss. Then she shrugged giving a look of 'well, I don't know', replying "I dunno. Getting shot at is pretty exhilarating, too." These past few hours had been a whole slew of things. Love, anger, terror, sadness, longing. All kinds of things she simply didn't feel otherwise. It felt like, now, in the shadow of all that had happened, things were started to level out to be a little more even. That struck her as odd, and not in the least bit true. Things never stayed even when they were together, but she didn't greatly mind.

For a short while, she was happy to stay there, held against Mephisto. This was all so strange, this love thing was going to take some getting used to, and some part of her was still processing him, being alive and back larger than life. It was silly that there were parts of her thinking that, pretty much every part of her was unable to deny. She chuckled against his shoulder. "Dragged you along." She left it at that for a few moments, before she turned back towards the control panel, leaning over the side of the chair, not saying a word. 

The next 20 seconds or so Belle spent flicking through a list, with a good many titles that, likely, Mephisto had never heard of before. She picked one, somewhat against her will, knowing that it was completely out of character of her, but she wanted to do it all the same. After all, in the next 20 minutes they would no longer be alone, so she wanted to make good use of it. Pressing a button and typing in a number she turned back to Mephisto with what could only be described as a spring in her step.

She took his hands and pulled him a little away from the Pilots chair. With a devilish spark in her eye, she asked him a telling question. "I hope your dancing fared as well as everything else." And at that, she leaded her head against his shoulder again, an old song, likely one he didn't know, though aptly suited, played through the speakers of her own ship. She laughed, it reminded her of that time, way too long ago, the world in a throw of modernization. Her music collection was very telling of her deep affection for, at the least, the creativity of mortals. She clung to it, just in case. An archive of whatever she deemed good in them. "God only knows what I'd be without you..."

I  M A Y  N O T  A L W A Y S  L O V E  Y OU

But as long as there are stars above you

You never need to doubt it

I'll make you so sure about it.

God only knows what I'd be without you.

She sung along quietly, just happy to spend her time here, if not slightly embarrassed at her stupid little confession, the two of them more swaying together than anything, as the stars shot their light it pure beams around them.


(OOC: They shouldn't be allowed to be cute BI Feel free to take it to wherever, on to meet Juviel or what not)

[Nascent]

It was a curious thing, knowing that what he was listening to would doubtlessly sound old and antiquated to nearly anyone else... and yet to him, it was entirely new. As he and Belle swayed, more holding each other than actually dancing, the old devil thought over how much he'd missed... how much he'd missed with her. There were entire eras that he knew only as a collection of brief facts, but those times had borne music and dance, art and literature, small wonders and quiet marvels that he would now never know. Things that had once been new, full of lustre and hope and promise, now relics of a bygone age. Belle had lived through all of it -- known its ways, its pleasures and terrors, led an ongoing revolution that had culminated in the greatest sense of equality humankind had ever achieved. He bore her no ill will over what she'd done or what he hadn't gotten to see or do... only, really, the desire to have seen and done it all with her lingered. And he held her a little closer because of it.

"Whatever are we going to do with ourselves, hm?" He asked, knowing it was a question without answer and a riddle only time could unravel.

-----------------------------------

"Percy Miller, age 32. Known commonly by the alias 'CodeSnake' -- one of several you seem to have established over the years, the rest discarded to hide your tracks when your illicit data-mining business drew unwelcome attention."

The CPD detention room was a standard design, simple and effective, little removed from earth designs in the pre-spacefaring era. A single light hung overhead, shining down on a long metal desk with a steel bar, like a handrail but for an entirely different purpose, running the length of one side. It was to this bar that the interrogated prisoner's handcuffs would be secured, looped between table and bar as they sat in a plain, unpadded, and simply uncomfortable plastic chair. Opposite them the lone seat of the interrogator, and behind it a black-glass one-way window over which hung a simple security camera, one of three watching the room from a number of angles. In this instance the prisoner was the two-bit hacker that Belle had had delivered to the police center the previous day, the interrogator a female officer with coldly professional green eyes, tightly tied back black hair, and 'Lt. Belora' sewn into her uniform along with a long-string ID number. 'CodeSnake', for his part, was despondent, obviously none too pleased about having been caught and not anticipating release anytime soon...

"52 known counts of illegal hacking of private data, 12 counts of hacking or attempting to hack the systems of the Cancer authority, it's offices, and authorized cooperative organizations. One count of trying, unsucessfully, to hack the Cancer station central life-support system. Two counts of attempted hacks of two separate docking bay master control systems. And those are only the known charges against you."

... but there was a dark curiosity in his eyes, along with just a touch of fear. Something wasn't right -- he couldn't pin it down, but something was very not right. He'd been interrogated the day before, given a half-hearted partial confession to just enough of what he'd done that leniency might be shown, as well as implicated enough other 'persons of interest' to be back out on the streets of Cancer in, he guessed, a handful of months.

Why the second go at it, then?

"You also stand accused of various and sundry counts of smuggling contraband, blackmail, intimidation, hundreds of counts of deploying viruses and malware for the purpose of data mining, and both soliciting and obtaining illegal construction services for a domicile in violation of dozens of codes, ordinances, and regulations, commonly known on the street as a 'bolthole'." The officer, sitting perfectly still until now and speaking entirely from memory without so much as a glance at the datapad in front of her, now leaned forward slightly. A shiver of fear, completely unexpected, ran up Percy's spine.

"None of this is of any interest to me."

The lieutenant tapped the book-sized digital display once and it lit up, displaying the usual desktop interface. This promptly switched back to black, then a list of mugshots and digitally rendered faces appeared, projected in the air holographically between them.

"Answer truthfully and completely and you'll be back in your cell in short order, dreaming up new ways to swindle dangerous people." There was a note of dry sarcasm in her voice -- the first hint of an emotion she'd given since entering the room. "Waste my time, and you will regret it."

"H-Hey, hold on a second here." The finkish man mustered up his miniscule courage to speak. "I've already told you all about --"

"Irrelevant." She narrowed her glare at him. "Your disclosures before this point have nothing to do with my investigation. Now, do you recognize any of the people in these photos?"

Percy scanned the faces for a long moment, then shrugged. "None of 'em strike me, no."

"A simple yes or no, mister Miller." The lieutenant tapped the screen again and another list, this one of names, appeared. "Have you had encounters with or know anything about these individuals?"

"...No, I don't think so."

Another list. "Have you ever taken money from any of these organizations for any purpose?" Another no. "Have you ever been to any of these locations or been contacted by someone claiming to be from these locations." No, again. She tapped the screen.

"You collect data in vast quantities and sift it for useful information, leverage, and sellable secrets. Recently you intercepted a data cache meant for a number of gray market merchants and buyers here on Cancer. Think hard, mister Miller. Do you remember seeing any of the items on this screen in those manifests?"

It was quite a list she presented him with -- the objects on display ranged from illegal computer hardware and software, various both ship and personnel weapons, to antiquities and even alien artifacts. Sighing, he pointed up at the screen. "That one, that one, that one in blue, that one, the front half of that one, that one, that one I think, that, that, definitely that, that, and that."

"I see." The selected items were highlighted, then vanished from the projection... all save one. The officer stood, walking to the end of the table. "Now, mister Miller... this 'ornamental skull'. What do you remember about it?"

"Look, I just grab and sift the data. There was a lot of stuff on those lists. I didn't bother to research every nick-nack that some wealthy pig in the spires is gonna--"

His train of thought was interrupted as, in one movement that seemed far too swift, the lieutenant strode across the handful of steps in-between them and slammed his face against the desk. Blood poured from his nose and he groaned and grimaced in pain. "I did not come here to listen to your trite platitudes. Now think, hard. Remember. Or the pain you're feeling now will be the least of your concerns."

"Officer! H-Help! She's--"

"They cannot hear you." She brought his head down on the desk again, this time likely breaking his nose, just to prove it. "There is no one on the other side of that glass. The camera feed is being diverted and a false render playing in its place. We are alone. You are alone." She pulled his head up by a fistful of his hair and forced him to stare into her cold, blank expression. "Now, the item in question. What do you remember?"

The hacker sputtered, coughing up blood, staring at her with terrified disbelief. For several long moments it seemed he'd forgotten how to speak. "T-T-The s-skull thing... yeah, I -- I remember." He was clearly forcing himself. "Supposedly from Earth, an antique. Seller got it from a --"

"Spare me the obvious details -- I have a copy of the manifests." His head was pulled just a little bit higher, forcing his chin up and stretching his neck slightly. Her grip didn't even seem human, utterly unyielding -- the sheer steadfastness of her hand and arm, not the slightest bit of waiver or sway hinted at the darker truth behind this 'meeting'. "Who were the interested clients? What was the chain of possession?"

"I-I-I-I--!" Face. Table. More blood. "D-Descartes! He's the one I stole the manifest from!"

"Reymond Descartes. The others?"

The hack-job rambled off a list of clients, his own and the seller's. The 'lieutenant' seemed satisfied with what he divulged, indicated mostly by the absence of further blunt force trauma. "Now... one last question and we're done."

"Yesterday, a cargo ship carrying this item to a warehouse was boarded, looted, and left to drift. Were you aware of this?"

"...Yes."

"Did you sell the information you had about the shipment to anyone?"

"...Yes."

"Who?"

"Oh gods, please don't hurt me!"

"Answer the question."

He did, in detail. The data had been sold to another of his ilk who'd resold it to a known group of pirates -- a detail he'd conveniently neglected to disclose to Mephisto during the brief head-butting interrogation. He'd thought he'd managed to get one up on the underworld club owner, take advantage of how distracted he'd been by the bounty hunter. Now, it seemed, he'd simply traded one problem for another.

The 'lieutenant' let him go, head dropping and blood finding the floor in fresh, heavy drops. "Thank you, mister Miller. You've been reasonably helpful. As thanks, we will arrange not to have certain acquaintances of yours stab you with improvised weapons in your cell tonight. Sleep well."

Leaving him bloody, bruised, and suitably terrified, the lieutenant turned and exited the room... leaving Percy handcuffed and alone until whenever someone chanced across him.

Whenever that would be.

Concealed as one of the Cancer PD, Asheroth wound her way through the maze-like rooms and corridors of the mighty building. No one around would have suspected that it was a military-grade cyborg walking amongst them -- to these people she was just another busy coworker, and she varied her disguise as she went so as not to draw suspicion. With the spy Thanatos had inserted here keeping tabs on things it had been easy enough to don the right holographic facade, pull the right strings, hack the right files through back doors that the operation hunting Belle had already put in place, and arrange for Percy Miller to be alone, unattended, and unwatched in an interrogation room for just long enough. The officers responsible for him likely wouldn't even realize he hadn't been checked back into his cell or accounted for for hours, as she had deliberately scrambled the chain of custody so badly that each would be pointing fingers at the other and the whole matter would go in circles until someone actually went and looked for him. His injuries would be seen as another administrative mess and one, perhaps more, of those suspected of 'misplacing' him would end up accused of vigilante justice and assault. Whatever story the man himself told was irrelevant, as there would be no way of tracking the incident back.

As she stepped into the elevator the cyborg returned part of her attentions to the ongoing argument, on carefully encrypted and masked channels, between Commander Coveks and the Thanatos infiltrator. Notifying the company's personnel that their resources were being briefly borrowed had been necessary -- waiting for their consent, not so much. This left an uncomfortable social situation whereupon the Commander had to deal with the concerns, complaints, and general wariness of accidental discovery that the spy perceived as inherent in meddling with a covert operation; there was no truth to his concern, of course, but it was the business of spies to be paranoid. The experimental corps were following the trail of a potentially high-value target; so, too, was the infiltrator's superior. There were bruised egos all around. Asheroth couldn't care less.

She did, however, notice a certain broken device in the corner of the lift. It was not the kind of equipment most people casually discarded, especially in such a place. Likely no one before her had cared enough to notice, focused on other things or simply seeing it as someone else's problem -- she reached down, whilst simultaneously hacking into and reviewing security footage for the lift.

Reymond Descartes... and Belle, the target of the infiltration. He seemed concerned by what the device displayed; she promptly destroyed it, violently and angrily. And a quick reconstructive scan of the datapad revealed why.

Adding herself unceremoniously to the ongoing conversation, Asheroth interrupted both parties in the middle of a heated debate over departmental jurisdiction. {Commander, it would appear that our goals are not incompatible with theirs. A simple solution is available.}

{We should assist.}



-----------------------------------



To call it a 'base' may have been technically correct, but what the pirates Mephisto had mentioned were operating out of was only a space station in the sense that it was in space, and stationary.

As Mephisto fed the computers a series of sensor filters that he'd been given by his pirate contact, meant to resolve the stark interference from the nebula and allow for safe passage, a profile of what awaited inside emerged. It was, in actuality, the wreck of an Edani carrier ship, just intact enough that it had held together despite clear battle-scarring and impacts from rogue asteroids. What's more, parts of it had clearly been scavenged from and others built up, particularly one hangar on the port side of the ship and its surrounding areas.

"Well... not what I was expecting." Mephisto admitted. In addition to the nearby space rocks there was also a fair bit of electrical interference in the nebula, lighting the whole cloud up like a thunderstorm. It was no surprise that a pirate base could go unnoticed there -- few people were crazy enough to venture into such active nebulas, and it was a rare breed indeed who were bold enough to set up shop in one.

The devil's senses, reorienting from the jump, finally resolved into clarity. He could feel the people inside, dozens of them. "They know we're here; probably picked up the jump." He turned to Belle. "My contact said they would honor a passphrase: 'All the world's a stage'. That should let us dock."

[Painterlee]

Back in the pilots seat, her sensors picked up almost nothing as they went to delve into the mass of crammed solar-space in front of them. She would have to use her eyes in order to make her way through this hazy nebula and all it's trials, even if the dock wasn't awfully far off in any real sense. She sighed to herself, an annoyed huff. "Why a Nebula? I hate Nebulas'. Everyone hates Nebulas'." She had still hadn't changed, still only adorning his coat. And she honestly had no plans to change that little fact. They could put up with it. Nothing boasted danger than a woman willing to step into a pirate den wearing pretty much nothing.

As Mephisto gave the ship his sensor filters, everything began to get a little clearer, radars registering a ship, a carrier, within the shielding effect of the giant cloud. Still didn't change the fact they were about to fly into a Nebula. This wasn't turning out to be a brilliant day for her...even if there had been brilliant moments along the way.

She looked over her shoulder at her wicked devil. "Just so you know, it's very likely someone on there might want to kill me." Her tone was almost unsettlingly casual, like it didn't even really matter. "You know, famous bounty-hunter, famous ship. If they know who I am it won't take them very long to notice." Waiting for the sensors to become fully restored, her fingers drummed again the control arm triggers. She smacked the control panel as if it would make the software take any faster, not that she personally was in any rush, but even if the Thanatos ship managed to get back online anytime soon, let alone follow their trail, this Nebula would do very well to hide them.

At least he had promised the likelihood of repairs here. The Black Scarab, while not in a bad way, certainly needed a few jobs done. She leaned back in the chair after a few minutes, letting the ship slowly move towards the finer coordinates he had given her when they had jumped. Opening the door belong the control panel by will, Belle pulled a packet of crisps, and began to munch on them happily. It seemed that she wasn't the kind of woman who avoided food. It was probably one of her only remaining pleasures. Apart from him, of course. Arm, crisp-packet in hand, appeared from the looming chair. "Want some?"

[Nascent]

"Much obliged." He nodded his head and indulged in a few of the thin-sliced potato snacks. They probably weren't even real potato, but the saltiness and flavorants made up for it well enough. "Humans certainly did get inventive with food while I was gone. Potato crisps, mint candies, sugary fizz drinks," Mephisto gave her a bemused look that said 'and I'm betting you really enjoy...' "Ice cream? Where did they even get the ideas for most of it?"

He gratefully munched on a crisp before continuing. "About them trying to kill you -- the though had crossed my mind, yes." Mephisto looked off into the distance for a moment, as if straining to listen to some far away sound. "Hmm... no, doesn't seem like they're too happy. Everyone on board is quite on edge at the moment..."

A quizzical look came over him. "Except for one. Absolutely calm. That's... unusual."

"I suppose I should mention exactly who we're dealing with." The devil shrugged apologetically, then crunched up a second crisp before continuing. This group, he explained, were a small closely-knit 'clan' of sorts, mostly outcasts and outlaws from Edanith who'd taken to piracy in the years after the war with Aedolis. They were a private lot with a goodly number of mercenary connections; some claimed that they were more privateers than out-and-out pirates, renegades who believed themselves to be fighting Edanith's battles in a time of peace (while profiting from the effort), but there was no certainty to that. More likely they were just simply common freebooters living by their own rules and taking what they needed or wanted from anyone they saw as fit to be targeted.

"Not sure what they're called -- I found out about them when I had a chance encounter with the daughter of one of their leaders on Cancer." He placed his hand on the console and leaned forward, as though trying to peer through the thick vari-colored haze of the nebula before turning back to Belle. "You might have heard of her, as she has quite the bounty on her head. An assassin-for-hire, goes by the name Corona. Favors plasma weapons and pyrotechnics to go with her pseudonym. She broke away from the pirate group some years back and was making a living doing hits on Cancer when she found herself going after a target in the middle of a small syndicate war. Didn't go her way; one of her plasma weapons exploded and reduced most of her body to slag. After a full-body cybernetic refit she was virtually penniless and desperate for work so she started taking increasingly risky jobs. When I found her she was down two legs and an arm, clutching a plasma pistol in a hand that wasn't responding."

He held up his hands as if to absolve himself. "Before you ask -- yes, I corrupted her, no, I didn't cut a deal for her soul. She'd lost enough already, and..." He looked away, seeing the shadow of the carrier/base looming in the haze. "... I suppose, in some way, I hoped she might help me find out where you were, whether there was anything between us that could be put back together after so long. I never said as much to her, of course."

The devil bit down on another crisp. "She thought everything I did for her was... I don't know, maybe a sense of loss? Heh. She may not have been entirely wrong either, in retrospect. Anyway," Mephisto waved his hand as if clearing away the thought like smoke. "She's the one who told me about this place -- said she'd let them know to repay the debt for her if ever I needed. I suppose we're about to find out just how close their ties are."

A few moments later, a garbled broadcast was sent to Belle's ship. "Ve're sending you flight path now; do not deviate. Our leader vill vant to speak vith you vhen you land. Do not cause us trouble, Black Scarab, and ve vill be done vith each other quickly."

Mephisto grinned, then shot Belle the thought ~Not sure where the accent comes from, to be honest.~

[Painterlee]

"I'll try not to." Belle chided back to the accented woman. The ship received the directions, and Belle fed it to the auto-pilot, pressing buttons and such. When the course went through, the ship automatically adjusted, and started to make its way around to the correct place. She shrugged at his thought words, and with a smile, simply said "I think I might like her. She sounds like she's got a gut full of spirit." Then she chuckled to herself, taking a crisp herself. "But that much just be the accent." Belle didn't know if Mephisto knew an awful lot about stereotypes, old or new. In fact, she supposed, most of her jokes, when ever they came, would be lost on him. References to things that required experience. If she were to reference a popular yet loathed musical number from the modern age back on earth it was likely he could know the song, but not really get the experience behind it. Why it was funny.

She was the pop-culture overlord. She'd seen it all, and he was some old goony unable to really grasp any of it. For a few short moments that made her wonder if, despite it all, despite all they had unearthed together now they were back, they were really compatible. She was older than him but carried herself in the age of her face. Acted young, daring, adventurous. He...he preferred to stand back, he moved slower than she did.

Slowly, the carrier, or 'station', came into a clear view. It was certainly sizable. It wasn't so much as a scratch on a place like Cancer, but still fairly big. The process of landing was slow, it was always slow. Authorization, readying of docking ports, all that junk that slowed things down but were, inevitably, necessary. She turned to Mephisto as the ship steered itself. Her hand, now discarded of the packet, played at his hair, admiring him still. "You know, if I had the money I'd probably indulge you in all my favorite foods and pass times these mortals gave me." Her voice was wishful, almost distant. She chuckled. "I'm kidding. I do have the money. Only, it feels like a cheat code to life. I don't like using it." Her eyes looked up, once again a devious stare and a cunning grin. "And I've already indulged you in my favorite pass time."

God she would have kissed him and made love to him all over again. They did say, after all, that the best way to increase sex drive was, well, to have sex.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They landed after another fifteen minutes. When the pressure inside the ship matched the pressure of that in the ship they were about to enter, she was given the green light from The Scarab that all was well, they could leave when allowed. Belle got up from her chair and stretched, shaking out her hair, and putting on her shoes. Now wearing one more piece of clothing. She stood opposite to him on the other side of the ship, arms folded, but not looking incredibly stern. "So, do you know anything about their 'leader' who apparently wants to speak with us? Granted, the only person you know is the one who contacted us, I was assuming it's her." She breathed out, leaning against the console, pressing a hand to her neck, trying to relieve an ache. "I suppose you should go first when they demand we come out. If people here know you I imagine that would go down better than a naked woman in high heels."

[Nascent]

He chuckled -- she really did intend to go out like that, just either because she couldn't be bothered or wanted to see the looks on their faces. Gods, he loved this woman. "What do they call it in this day and age? Being a 'shock jock'?" He couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Damn, but you are good at it."

His expression became slightly more serious. "I really haven't a clue -- this is the first encounter for me as well. Corona was the one who knew them, and I knew her; it's a bit of a tangental connection at best." He looked out the viewport, now displaying the landing bay. "They're a serious bunch though, I can sense that." His eyes narrowed as more people started entering, taking up positions behind crates and other available cover, their unarmed counterparts quickly clearing out. "... And it looks like we'll be having whatever conversation's coming at gunpoint. This should be fun."




-------------------------------



Mephisto was the first down the ship's boarding ramp, hands held calmly inside his pockets and a well-practiced poker face on. He'd realized at some point that he'd neglected to include shoes in his ensamble, right around the time that the hatch opened and the air of the landing bay, a fair few degrees cooler than the steamy cabin he and the demoness had been sharing, hit him. He realized that was probably why Belle had put hers on and he'd almost completely missed the cue; somehow she managed to be far more alert and practical than him, traits he made a mental note to cultivate in himself.

"Hands vhere ve can see them!" One of the pirates, assault rifle pointed his way, shouted. A middle-man in the chain of command, no doubt. "You're on Black Kestrel grounds now, so do vhat ve say!"

"Is this really necessary?" Mephisto stopped, sighed, and held his empty hands up. This whole scene was just too predictable. "I'm a friend of Nadezhda. Can't we just--"

" 'Black Kestrel'? Huiplet!" One of the other armed pirates, close to the one who was giving orders, half-muttered at his compatriot. "Last veek it vas 'Blood Vings', now 'Black Kestrel'? Vhat are you, obsessed vith ptitsy?"

"As if you've come up vith anything better, oyobuk."

" 'Starsea Pirates' is better, tolstak!"

"Yob tvoyiu mat!"

Mephisto raised an eyebrow -- he didn't need to understand all the words to understand the juvenile nature of the argument, much less how little sense it made. "Excuse me... weren't we doing the whole 'put the newcomers in their place at gunpoint' thing?"

"Zatknis' na hui, outsider!" The pirate resumed barking at his compatriot. "Golubaya bl'yad!"

"Kooshi govno ee oomree!"

The devil sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, which quickly prompted a repeated demand to keep his hands up. This obviously wasn't the smartest or most well-organized group -- at the very least, those two didn't make it seem so, and the tired glares and eye-rolling of the other pirates made it clear that they were weary of these shenanigans as well.

~I think they'll be too busy with infighting to pull any triggers.~ He shot a telepathic message to Belle. Part of him was curious to see just what reaction her presence had on these poor fools. There were women in amongst their number as well, just as hardened-looking if not more-so than the men, but he was willing to bet that anyone striding around half-naked without concern, especially someone as striking as Belle, was going to cause a few jaws to drop.

[Painterlee]

There was a clicking of heels that seemed to pierce the noise that was, echoing off of the walls, the approaching of another. Belle stepped out of her beloved ship in all her womanly glory, stepping just a little in front of Mephisto. She was the pilot, she was in charge. With her, she carried an air of unwavering authority, she was confident and not in the least bit phased. In her lack of clothes spoke words of the things that had passed between her and the devil, red-purple bruises lined her neck and collar, lovingly given. It was the Belle he remembered. The Belle he had known all too long ago. A mistress of power. Slowly, she raised her arms above her head, revealing her body in it's full. Her grin was cocky and one-sided. “Might want to focus on your other priorities, boys. Besides...it's cold out here.” She side-eyed Mephisto, seeming to enjoy the scene herself. “You think you regret wearing shoes? Shameful.” She prodded at herself. The cold pricked at her skin, breaking out into goosebumps but it didn't bother her.

“I assume there is some kind of order in this place?” Her voice came condescending, like she was royalty presented with dry bread at a feast of Kings. “The guns aren't necessary, after all. Any extra forces aren't worth your time. We're here to meet someone and get my ship fixed with as little hassle as possible. If you could get on that really snappy I'd be...” She paused, heavy with undertones, eyeing the people who she could tell were orientated in such ways. “...Grateful.” Belle rose her head slightly, looking down at them. The marks on her body she treated like medals, gifted from the lips of her love. She was a woman unafraid and devious, confident. She knew she looked good and she wanted everyone to know that she knew. That no manner of gawking or flattery would soften her heart, she didn't need it.

Her eyes scanned, picking a few of the better looking men, staring them with glittering eyes as if to say 'yes, you/”. She huffed, standing strong. There was a pause, Belle didn't so much as shift her position, glaring intently. “So? I'm not going to stand here all day.” Her voice came stronger, commanding, like she didn't need to be told her place, as she would make it herself. 

[Nascent]

"No, in fact I'd rather you not."

The voice, that of a woman, came from the far end of the landing bay -- looking in that direction would reveal a rather rough and ragged looking woman with skin so deeply tan as to almost be dark, wearing a simple and businesslike red dress with a pair of combat boots and a military coat thrown over her shoulders like a cape. She gazed at Belle steadily, as if unphased, and took a long drag on an old-fashioned cigar that Mephisto would've guessed either to be home made or else exceedingly expensive... perhaps both.

At the approach of the commanding woman the pirates seemed to come to order, most doing their best to look away from Belle long enough to stand and salute. Not all suceeded. In passing she blew smoke towards one particularly wide-eyed young man who couldn't seem to drag his eyes away... at least, until they began to burn slightly from the smoke and he turned away to cough. There was a sense of control about her, a dry, wry humor that only the very battle-scarred and strong can truly maintain. With an accent just slightly lighter than her followers she bid them lower their weapons and get back to work, then walked right up to the two demons with an appraising eye.

"You know how to make entrance, da." Her violet eyes angled towards Mephisto. "Your friend, not so much."

The devil raised an eyebrow at that but otherwise kept silent, though the performer in him was all but begging to issue a retort. Turning to blow a ribbon of smoke away, her free hand reached onto the coat's inner pockets and drew out a cigar case with a built-in lighter, an emblem from the Edani military emblazoned proud on its bronze facing. She offered one to Belle, then flicked on the flame once the demoness made her selection.

"I know that ship -- back during var, my superiors in desperation reached out to mercenaries, bounty hunters, anyone vho they think help us turn the tides against the dragon-slaves." The pirate queen seemed to be searching Belle's gaze, as though trying to dig out some kind of secret hidden there. "Some said the Black Scarab vas used by members of a group, others that it vas prize taken by one victor after another. I am not sure vhat I believe, but ship has reputation that I know very vell. Always fighting, always hunting, always hungry."

"But not in var. Not vith us."

She let that stand as it was; Mephisto didn't know all the details, but with what he now knew about Belle's recent history he was guessing she'd had other concerns ten years ago than fighting other people's wars. He kept quiet, of course -- this wasn't his conversation at the moment.

"So vhen the name of the d'yavol of Cancer," She spoke the word with some amusement, as though it seemed more a joke than a title to her. "And the famous Scarab crossed our comms at same time, I vas quite curious. Ve don't get visitors here, after all." Her eyes inspected the Black Scarab for a moment, gauging the damage. This was the kind of woman who would know the wounds of battle when she saw them.

"Seems you have problem vith volves, da?"