Rain was rare in Republic City. Being so close to the equator made for a warm climate, and only light snow in the winters, if any. But when it did rain? The city was quiet. The city was calm. The city paid respects to the elements they had been bending so easily. They paid respect to a show of power that not even the Avatar could match. In other words, it was a dark and stormy night.
Dark, being relative, however. City lights still made the streets safe to walk down. Satomobiles still trucked along the streets, drivers making their last deliveries of the night, most likely. And among the rain splattered sidewalks, with pedestrians wearing black coats bundled to the chin was a man. A man with a tired aura around him, like the world had kicked his ass every chance it had gotten, and he knew the next beating was just around the corner. A bad smoking habit was the least of his problems, and was most likely the easiest way he could commit indirect suicide. Although he was in his late 30's, he felt twice his age, half from memory, half from the scars that textured his powerful, lean body in so many interesting ways and patterns. The world had changed so much since the new avatar had arrived in republic city. War, war, war, war. And now? Peace. Complete and utter peace. He couldn't stand it. It felt like he was a kid again, and yet another foster "Parent" was bringing the belt back around. It was healing and pleasant, if for but a second, before they got hit again, which doubled the pain.
"President Raiko?"
"Yes, Mrs. Arku?"
"You have a Mr. … Darzuq? Here to see you."
"Perfect, right on time. Let him in."
Raiko's office was large, empty, and had a bay window that looked over the majesty of his city. While it was raining, however, it had the semblance of an Impressionist's painting. The usual white had turned grayish blue, and a sheet of somber memory had settled over the men.
"You really should visit Republic City more often Mr. Darzak."
The light reflected off the right side of his face, leaving the left side completely cloaked in shadow.
"I would, Raiko, if there was anything here for me besides the occasional cheap thrill or two."
He walks forward, black dress shoes reflecting the lights of the city.
"Oh, and call me Len."
"Your first name?"
"Yes, we've known each other long enough. I feel that we should drop formalities."
"Very well then, Len, do you know why I called you here?"
"I'm assuming to enlist the help of the UWSAO as always?"
"No, I'm here to talk to you about these."
He lays photos on the table, each showing what could be a gang member with their throat cut.
"And you think it's one of my men?"
"Is it?"
Len Darzak pulls a cigar (dark, cheap, and deadly for your lungs) from his pocket, creates a small flame with his thumb, and takes a deep inhale.
I want to kill the beast inside me
And exhales, sending a cloud of blue smoke directly to the shadowed ceiling, where it connects, and quickly dissolves.
"Alright Raiko. Let's talk."
