Xiri And Tyra

<Mina‘Haplo> Paxia. A sprawling urban metropolis on the edge of the sea, a city of concrete, of smoke, steel, wheels and gears, of people, big, small, exotic, normal and fey, a city of technology and magic and most of all, magitechnology. It’s night, a smoggy sort of cloud blotting out the stars above, letting the faded red moon cast its old, baleful gaze down upon the world. It is here, in Paxia, in a certain building, stands a man.-
<Mina‘Haplo> He’s not a tall man, standing maybe 5'5. He's rotund, his hair thinning from age. He stands in an office, dressed in a white shirt, black pants and an unbuttoned blue waistcoat. He gazes out the window of his office, a cigar in hand. His name is Richard Vickers. He takes a puff of his cigar. "A good slog done by those boys." He says to himself with a chuckle.
*Xiri is not present in the office. Present in her place, however, is a beautiful gift. A box, light pink in color, with a red ribbon tied upon its top.
<Mina‘Haplo> "Heh heh. This could be it. This could be the ace we need…" Chuckles Richard to himself, whistling a slight tune as he turns back to his desk, a large, overdecorated mahogany thing available only to those with too much money. His eyes fall on the box for a moment, and he tilts his head in a doglike fashion… Then, with a shrug, takes the box and pulls the ribbon’s knot out.
*Xiri 's present to him is a fairly sizable thing that, at first glance, could be mistaken for an executive toy — indeed. It is a bronze scale, a balance, a little trinket of magitech wonder that could perhaps suit a rich man like him. Perhaps. When it is taken out, however, the scales begin to bob and weave, obviously unbalanced.
<Xiri> [ Little hidden chambers along the scale begin to fill it with a viscous red liquid that probably is blood. It continues to fill each side of the balance, until… the little, weak chains cannot hold its weight in volume, and they shatter, spilling the liquid all over the place. ]
<Mina‘Haplo> "Eh…" With a slight frown, Richard takes the scales out, setting them on his desk. Within a matter of moments, of course, he notes the imbalance in the scales… He sits down, but before he can get a chance to fiddle with it in any meaningful way, the balance’s chains shatter… Spilling what seems to be blood across his desk. "Aw, what the hell." He grumbles, angrily.-
<Mina‘Haplo> "What is this? Some prank? It isn’t very funny!" He shouts to no one in particular, up at the sky in fact. He looks around for a cloth of some kind, and, failing that, grabs a little crystal bell next to his desk to call in some kind of maid to do it for him.
<Xiri> The crystal ball, Xiri has sabotaged. It fails to respond. A voice echoes from no particular presence in the room: "Oh my… you have made a bloody mess of your office."
<Mina‘Haplo> Richard stares in frustration at the bell, shakes it a few times, to no avail… Then proceeds to jump a little in fright as the voice echoes through his room. "W-who’s there?" He asks, nervously, fingering his cigar. "… Cassandra? Er, is that you?" He asked, with the tone of voice of someone who only desperately *wishes*he recognised the speaker.
*Xiri lets the glamour of darkness around her fade slowly; she's sitting on a cadenza (ha) at the opposite end of his office, her legs crossed. She has no face, for it is obscured in a black and red hood; her attractive feminine form is shrouded by her red clothing, and her legs are crossed to the side.
<Xiri> "You, who has besmirched the honor of Lady Justice… you who have blinded and raped her, and left her to die upon a lawless alley."
<Mina‘Haplo> Richard stares at the Slayer for a few, quiet moments, her words ringing in the air… Before he quietly, with a deadly stillness, puts his cigar back into his mouth. "You’re the one they call the Slayer, am I mistaken?" Asks Richard, with a surprisingly calm voice. "Guess I can't persuade you to let me live, can I?"
*Xiri doesn't respond straight away. She reaches to her mouth with her finger, kisses it, and then thrusts it his way. A crimson mote of light touches his forehead, and he can see the image of a gently rotating trefoil of gold filigree rotating around a cluster of bee orchids. "Speech and communication are the virtues that you abuse."
<Mina‘Haplo> Richard stares up futilely at his forehead, and even though he can’t see it he knows what's there, in one way or another. For a moment, true, deep, inescapable terror breaks out on his face, but he nevertheless tries to remain calm. "R-right then. I, ah, I won't fight. My time's up. Can I at least finish the cigar?" He asks sadly.
*Xiri reaches to her back, and the Stinger comes into sight. It is a massive sword, but she handles it as if it is weightless. The Nalvarin runes engraved upon it shimmer faintly as she demands, "Make your peace, Richard Vickers." She continues to pace, one momentuous step at a time, like a lurker about to engulf him.
<Mina‘Haplo> "S-so that’s a yes, then, right?" Says Richard meekly, smoking away at his cigar. His eyes dart from left, to right, and it honestly looks as though he's just going to sit there and wait for her to kill him… Before he plunges a hand into his desk, pulling out a magitech-flintlock pistol in one smooth moment, aiming it, and firing…-
<Mina‘Haplo> A small burst of flame fires from the barrel… Slamming harmlessly into a wall to Xiri’s left. "Ah… Well." Mutters Richard fearfully. "… Shit."
*Xiri is charging towards him the moment she hears the shot ring out, as if that was what she was waiting for. A signal for the race to start. She is sliding forward in one smooth movement, and when she gets within range, she thrusts with her blade out at full strength. Straight at his heart. "Return to the garden, my friend. Sleep there forevermore."
<Mina‘Haplo> Richard’s eyes grow wide as death comes, and he barely has time to scream before the sword plunges into his chest. The air is forced from his lungs in a gasp, and he stares down at it in shock for a moment… With his dying breath, he feebly flings his half-finished cigar onto the ground, and slumps as low as the blade allows, since it's now embedded in his chair.
*Xiri draws it in one swift motion, letting all the blood likely gush out, and as part of that same motion, slides it across her back. … where, thanks to magitech ingenuity, it stays place, like an RPG protagonist's weapon. She wordlessly takes out a small greeting card to lay down on the desk. It has a clump of birdsfoot trefoils tied to it by small gold string.
<Mina‘Haplo> Richard’s body slides forward a little as Xiri tugs her blade out. He totters for a moment, perfectly upright, before leaning forward, his head banging off his desk with a satisfying -clunk-.
<Tyra> "Oh bloody hell, that wasn't on the agenda." A glance towards the source of the voice would reveal a woman standing in the doorway to the office, a few pins still in the lock of the door from apparent picking while the confrontation had taken place. Behind her the waiting room can be seen, the secretary slumped on her desk with a nicely sized bruise on her face along with a downed security guard as well, though he's actually bleeding a bit but seems to be still alive.
*Tyra shifts from foot to foot, a leather clad woman with a lithe form yet with curves perhaps a bit flattered by the outfit. One gloved hand has already drifted down to her belt, freeding a piece of metal as eyes behind the black and gold masquerade mask quickly take in the scene. "Definitely not the agenda. Fuck."
*Xiri 's unseen eyes immediately flit towards the door opening. She takes a leap back and immediately readies her sword, wordless. She wants her to speak first. Her hood is still on, leaving her without a face to identify… or perhaps, even, to relate with. She might actually know her as the Slayer.
*Tyra flicks her wrist, a rather nasty looking blade suddenly emerging from the metal hilt with a 'shunk' as the sword's readied. She takes a step closer, head tilting some. "No face, nasty looking sword, dead exec who was as dirty as the undercity… body to die for… Slayer, I presume?"
*Xiri might even have a smirk under her face. Even murderous assassins can be flattered. "Who desires to know?" she asks, her voice modulated slightly into a different octave than her normal speaking voice. It is feminine, but different.
*Tyra gives a slight shrug, sparing a quick glance over her shoulder. "Just an interloper, really~" There's a bit of singsong to it, the masked woman shifting a bit to the side of the room. "Though you might have made my life a hell of a lot more difficult, can't say I appreciate that much."
*Xiri seems to have picked up on something. "You are not in his employ. I have no quarrel with you." She starts to set her blade down, backstepping towards the window. Or, I suppose more accurately, towards the wall of glass that composes the breathtaking sight from his office, possibly with a balcony.
*Tyra raises her hand, making a chiding noise. "Not so fast. You're right, but him being dead makes things /complicated/ for me. I don't much appreciate that, Miss Slayer. It changes the rules some."
*Xiri lets out an audible 'hmph' from under her hood, and responds, "Your rules are of no concern to mine." She backs further away, now pressed almost flush against the windowpane. Does she have an escape route in mind?
*Tyra grumbles. "Oh no you don't. I'm not getting fingered by some cop thinking I'm an accomplice to something I had no part in." In an impressive burst of speed she's up and over the desk, a black and gold streak heading right for Xiri at this point. "Seriously, if I'm gonna have a warrant for that I want to have at least thought about it!"
*Xiri gets ready for her. She isn't going to actually initiate the combat here, but it's inevitable! Her glass cutter isn't quick enough to get her out. "Should you not be more concerned with whatever it is you burgled in here for, mystery thief of night?" she taunts.
*Tyra swipes the moment she's close, a testing strike to feel out the Slayer's defenses it seems. "Not after you went and offed him! You have any idea how long I'm going to have to spend casing this tower after a damned assassination?!"
*Xiri is more of the dodging variety than the blocking type, so Tyra swipes at a red blur that momentarily stands horizontal along the windowpane, who then bounces off to roll towards the side to give her some space. "Not interested," is her adamant reply.
*Tyra whirls, half pressed against the pane as Xiri eludes the first swipe. "Pity, we could have quite the time I'd think." She's kicked off soon enough, dropping into a flurry of stabs and swipes now as she applies the pressure.
*Xiri chuckles again, a mixture of evasion and parrying for her flurry. For each attack, she gives her an equal measure; a sidestep for a thrust, a parry to a slash, and an eventual side-pivot to try to kick at her legs to trip her. "My, you are direct, aren't you?"
*Tyra shifts out of the way of a few reprisals, though the kick at the legs manages to catch and deposit her onto the ground on her back with a grunt. "Playing cat and mouse never turns out as satisfying, sorry." With that she's managed to flip back onto her feet, lashing out with a kick of her own at Xiri's gut.
*Xiri isn't quite ready for Tyra, so the kick actually lands solidly, the extra inch of heel and all, and she actually lets out a noise as the wind is kicked out of her. She stumbles only once as she backsteps and chuckles, saying, "You could at least treat me to a candlelit dinner first…" and actually takes offense for once, leaning forward to try to catch her with the Stinger in a downsward chop.
*Tyra shifts to the side, whipping her own dagger around to knock Stinger off track so that the fullblade coasts by her with barely an inch to spare. "We've just met, though! Murder and upending plans is a real turn off, you'll have to work hard to make up for that." She takes another step forward, elbow coming up now for a quick jab to the chest.
*Xiri avoids that one — partially because she can't afford another torso hit, and she knows it — by artfully spinning to the side and running towards the desk, to try to bait her after her. If she can get her guard down enough so she can stick her blade to her throat to get her to stop… "Unfair of you to stick me with the crime of foiling your mysterious plans, do you not think?"
*Tyra mutters an impressive string of curses as her followup goes wide, whipping about but not immediately giving chase. "If you're reaaally curious, I could share. Maybe a kiss in exchange?" A few steps to the side, circling warily and watching for any sudden movements - that is, until a flick of the hand sends the wicked looking knife zipping through the air at Xiri.
*Xiri is dismayed that her gambit isn't working, but she isn't quite as indulgent with her vulgar language as Tyra. So she instead glides out of the way, some of her black feathers ripped off her outfit by the knife… which sails straight into Vickers' already dead head. She lets the rest of her momentum carry her, and winds up sitting ontop of the table, legs crossed again.
<Xiri> "You wouldn't take advantage of a girl like me, would you…?"
*Tyra shakes her head as the knife goes wide, the obviously enchanted blade freeing itself to fly back into the intruder's hand. The blood's cleared with a flick of the hand, the masked woman tilting her head. "Take advantage? It's harder to buy that when I walked in on you having a heart to sword with the suit behind you, you know. Helpless women don't cut up corrupt pigs."
*Tyra tilts her head the other way, making a contemplative noise. "'sides, damsels in distress aren't my type."
*Xiri has an invisible smile behind her dark hood as she counters, "I never denied slaying him, my dear." She's sad that that last line went a little amiss, but then she reaches over the table and flings the fiery sidearm Richard held at the time of his death. It all seems to just be a simple projectile toss, before… doubling it up with a second throw of something tiny that triggers the mechanism.
*Tyra was already starting to move as the device was tossed at her, though the sudden firing takes her off balance. The gout of flame catches her in the leg, sending her dodge off balance as she ends up crashing into another chair with a curse. She's up on a knee and foot soon enough though, knife raised. "You play pretty rough yourself, though."
*Xiri is idly bouncing her legs down and up as she sits on the table, laughing very tenderly as she feigns a gasp, her hand pressed straight to her chest as she says, "Little old me, playing rough with the boys? I could never."
*Tyra raises an eyebrow from behind the mask, a smirk tugging at her lips as she rises to her feet. A moment's spent testing the burnt leg before she starts forward again. She gestures towards the body behind Xiri, chuckling. "He'd disagree, I wager." Another step forward, a bit of sway to go with it. "Not that I can complain /too/ much, except for the wasted evening."
*Xiri reaches out with her hand, the same one that just touched her chest, and then wags her fingers at her in a 'come and get me' kind of gesture. "Does it hurt? Come here and maybe I will kiss it all better."
*Tyra picks up the pace, laughing now. "Oh, I like you. You want me, here I come then!" With that she's started full tilt, heading for Xiri now with the wound forgotten.
<Mina‘Haplo> There’s a metallic -click- sound as one of the side doors to the room opens. A young man in a security uniform peeks in. "Sir? We heard, fighting, is-" He suddenly sees the entire scene, the dead Richard, the two ladies, and reacts as any sane man would do: he pulls out an impressively large handgun. "Intruders! We have intruders!" He shouts, and the sudden sound of several pairs of boots echoing down the hall can be heard.-
<Mina‘Haplo> "Stay where you are! Don’t move!"
*Xiri turns her head for a nonchallant smile on camera — possibly at the same time Tyra does in a splitscreen shot — and looks to the charging rogue, spreading her arms to let her slam straight into her, as she uses her momentum to make them roll for a moment on the desk, then pushing with a mighty pump of both her legs, which sends them torwards the windowpane.
*Tyra is taken a bit by surprise by both the sudden interruption of security, though the fact Xiri allows her to crash right into her is quite more surprising. She isn't left slack by it though, retracting the knife blade into the hilt as she wraps her arms around Xiri. There's a pained grunt as she hits the pane first, the window giving way and letting the two drop out into the night air.
<Tyra> Not even a first date and we're falling for each other, huh? What now, Miss Slayer? *She's rather non chalant, considering the whole free fall from a high building situation.*
<Mina‘Haplo> The guard, in case you cared, watches the entire thing with the most stupefied look on his face, the sort a person has when someone does something not only unexpected, but the *exact opposite*of what you were expecting. The rest of the guard arrive to see the two tumble.
*Xiri lets them spiral - perhaps in BULLET TIME as they speak - and because Tyra is so close now, she sees her lower face through the obscuring shadow, where her calm smile is displayed. "Swing by later, love," as she suddenly presses at Tyra’s body with her thigh, possibly flipping her away from her as she fires the grappling hook — which is butterfly-shaped — to snag to an outcropping, and begins swinging.
*Tyra is sent awry by the move, frowning as Xiri begins to swing away. She tucks the dagger back into her belt, focusing for a moment. "Oh no, I'm not that easy to ditch by a long shot." After that moment of focus there's a burst of light from her boots, propelling her on the same path Xiri is towards a perch and allowing her to catch up and take another swing with a fist.
*Xiri parries the fist with an appropriate wuxia cry of 'Ha!' as she swings, looking on appreciatively as Tyra catches up. She brings her knee in to strike, twirling on her wire rope for a roundhouse kick, thrusting out with a hand chop, and essentially engaging in that most magical of movie moments, the blow trading.
*Tyra doesn't prove to be all that shabby at plain old hand to hand herself, her own leg coming around to take the roundhouse. She then shifts, half entwining her leg around Xiri's to pull herself closer as one arm comes up to catch the hand chop as well. "Can't keep your hands off, can you?" Her free arm comes up for her own counter attack now that they're face to face again.
*Xiri might actually be extending herself a little bit too far, given she has to have one hand on for the grappling hook, and as she reaches the absolute maximum angle of her swing, she relents the hook so that she slips straight down Tyra's body as she pulls her in close. Which also foils that counterattack, since she's further down now. "My, you *are*persistent…"
*Tyra mutters, whipping her other leg about and attempting to wrap both around Xiri's waist in an attempt to keep close and level with the other woman. "You have no idea. I get what I want in the end, one way or another. It's made me a bit spoiled, I'm afraid." She spares a quick glance to see just how long they have before they're back on ground from the swing from the grappling line.
<Tyra> You could give up, you know. Long way down.
*Xiri actually can't get away the way she wanted to, because Tyra snags her with both legs around her waist like a crab grip… or, well, like something out of Dead or Alive, and she winds up having to fire her other hook to land onto another hook, so they can smash straight into the window of what she percepts is a completely empty room from a vacated premise.
*Tyra chuckles, actually patting Xiri on the head for a moment. "You're just as persistant, aren't yo-" Then there's yet another impact, another masterfully crafted window ruined by the two troublemakers as they smash through it. Tyra's grip breaks as they smash into the ground, sending the woman into a heap next to Xiri as an errant hand catches the hood.
<Tyra> *Of course, one of Xiri's hands catch the lip of Tyra's mask as well to take it clean off…
*Xiri wasn't… quite… expecting that, and if there was epic music playing right now, the record it's on would be gasping and wheezing as it dies a horrible death. She also groans and groggily sits up as she peers down at what she's got. A … mask? And a draft— pause. Blink. She touches the top of her head and her eyes widen. Ooh crap.
*Tyra groans, wincing in pain as her body protests her shifting onto her stomach. Blue eyes dart about, black hair splaying all over as the braids have come almost completely undone during the fracas. "Guh… Damane's left testicle, that wasn't like I imagined it would be." She gets up into a kneeling position, reaching up to brush away at an errant hair… wait, glove on skin. A pat on the face, eyes widening.
*Xiri tosses away the mask, letting it slide by her as she tries to reservedly say, "Had a bit too much fun there, Tyri?" in a tone that is now instantly identifiable as Xiri.
*Xiri 's hair is also now flowing pale blonde, firmly sitting the fence between white and yellow, and her eyes shimmer a verdant green.
*Tyra looks at Xiri for a moment, eyes widening even more. "Bloody hell, /you're/ the Slayer? Xiri?" Then it clicks that her own name's come up, a gloved hand coming right back up to smack against her forehead as she sums up the situation rather succintly. "Fuck."
*Xiri almost looks completely embarrassed as she pulls herself up, and Tyra gets to watch the Slayer outfit metamorph. A white line shimmers on her chest as the feathery trim parts to push her cleavage out, her hood scales back to be absorbed into the outfit, and the tailcoat rotates around into a skirt. She does, at least, offer her a hand up.
*Tyra scoops up the mask, accepting Xiri's hand and pulling herself up to her feet with another wince. She spares a glance down as the outfit shifts, raising an eyebrow before her eyes meet Xiri's. "Nice outfit?" It's a bit meek, as if she's feeling things out after the little revelation.
*Xiri looks just a bit frazzled herself, but is quicker on the uptake as she presses her own arms horizontally to each other to say, "A secret for a secret, love. Mmm?"
*Tyra quirks a brow, a sly smile appearing on her face as she reaches up to pat the taller woman on the shoulder. "I suppose that's amendable. I don't even want to think about what Father and Mother would do if they found out." She casts a look out the broken window for a moment, as if looking at the Vickers office as she murmurs. "Though now I have no idea what to do regarding /them/ anymore…"
*Xiri looks back as well, and leans to let a pocket watch slide out so she can look at the time, then an 'mmm' forms on her lips. "You are intelligent, dear. I am sure you can manage." Pause, and then she turns to start towards the door of the office. "An hour and change to opening time, love. See you then."
*Tyra blinks at the sudden dismissal, turning to follow Xiri. "Oi, hold up a moment. All this time you've been the one making every crooked blueblooded fellow have to triple their security?" She moves to come up alongside Xiri, looking somewhere between impressed and amused now. "Bit of a change from hostess of the Festina persona, mm?"
*Xiri tilts her head as she smiles tenderly, and then lays a hand forward to the side of Tyra's head as she says, "Here I thought you just enjoyed filling the Roulette tables' coffers, dear." She lets go again, and then shuts her eyes as she mmms.
*Tyra reaches up, playing a finger across Xiri's chin for a moment. "Nuh-uh, you know I've gotten pretty close to breaking your bank a few times. Nice dodge though, you get credit for that." She tilts her own head, considering. "Though, if you want to know why /I/ was up there the offer's open."
*Xiri presses her lips again, and says with a little bit more gravitas, "Tyri, love, I would love to stay and chat, but I — we — have a crime scene we must make ourselves scarce from." She smiles afterwards, though, face softening, and says, "Meet me after the show, perhaps, and we can discuss it further."
*Tyra chuckles. "Just making sure I got something for all my trouble tonight. All of that and coming up empty handed would basically ruin the next few days for me." She flips the mask back on, reaching up to quickly tame her hair.
*Xiri pauses, but as the hood starts up again over her head, she hands a sprig of rosemary to Tyra. Where does she keep all of her flowers? Then she steps down the hall, calmly pacing down the hall, intent on making herself, well, scarce!
*Tyra seems a bit taken aback, though she tucks it away and heads down the other way with a jaunty whistle.

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