The Matrix: Legacy
Two
Frenchman
Gunner had no idea of how he'd mysteriously wound up in an apartment on the opposite side of the city simply by passing through two doors, but there weren't any men who wouldn't take the hint and just die out for his blood here, so he figured that in the end, it was all good.
Seraph had excused himself, so Gunner watched Sati play with her dolls. It was amazing how lifelike those dolls seemed. He didn't know why she had so many identical dolls that she called Agent Smith, but hey – it was her little game.
Gunner looked up as Seraph entered the room. "She would like to speak with you."
"Who would?"
"The Oracle."
Gunner arched an eyebrow. Odd, Seraph didn't seem the type to listen to fake mystics....
He rose and followed the fighter into a kitchen, where an old woman was putting cookies into an oven. Gunner blinked. Okay, not exactly what I was expecting... Jee-sus, she looks like my grandma! Seraph bowed himself out, and the woman turned to face him. "So, you'd be Gunner. Trinity's friend. She mentioned you, you know."
Gunner blinked. Why would Carrie...?
The Oracle smiled. "It's easy to see why she trusted you with Avalon. You really care for the girl." Uncharacteristically shy, Gunner looked towards his feet and mumbled something along the lines of Avvy being like his sister.
"I know," the Oracle replied. "And you do a good job of keeping her out of Trinity's shadow. However, you know what I'm going to say, don't you."
"Car – Trinity has enemies," he said slowly. "And they'll think Avvy is her."
"For a time, yes. Unfortunately, Trinity made enemies who ultimately won't care the Avalon is not her. Just the blood connection will be enough to condemn her in the eyes of the Merovingian."
Gunner frowned. "The Merovingian... I've heard of him. French info trafficker, right?" The Oracle nodded. "Trinity was one of three people who managed to thoroughly anger not only him, but many of his employees as well. I fear that Avalon might not survive his wrath." Gunner opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I am not yet finished with you, Leon O'Malley."
Gunner's jaw dropped open at her usage of his real name. "You cannot go haring off to rescue her. You interfered in one of the Merovingian's plots when you thwarted the kidnapping of Sati. He will put a price on your life, make no mistake about it."
Gunner snorted. "Nobody'd be dumb enough to go after me."
"No human would. The Merovingian... tends not to employ humans, as you have witnessed," the Oracle replied calmly.
"Those two guys... the ones who wouldn't die...."
"They're known as Cain and Abel. Cousins; Cain is the elder of the two. They are both of them werewolves."
"Were - oh, Jesus," Gunner muttered. "No wonder that kid knew my bullets wouldn't work." "Sati is an extraordinary child," the Oracle told him calmly. "The Merovingian realises this, and he covets her talents for himself. It is why I asked Seraph to protect her; she is the future." Gunner looked over his shoulder to where the girl was play-wrestling with the Chinese man, and looked back to the Oracle.
"What about Avvy?"
The Oracle smiled. "She'll be just fine, Gunner. Avalon is quite a clever girl... but to rescue her, you would have to travel for several days."
Gunner gave her a blank look.
"The Merovingian's château is located in the mountains outside the City."
"Where!?"
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Morgain woke slowly in a very soft, very comfortable bed. She opened her eyes to see a ceiling that was not her own. Great. I've been kidnapped. She rolled out of the bed, only to keep rolling more than she was used to and then fall to the floor.
She got up, noting that the bed was king-sized, then looked around the room to realise that it was nearly six times the size of her room. Even better. The person who had me kidnapped is rich. Her ice blue eyes fell on an outfit laid on a chair, as if they expected her to wear it. She walked over and felt the material. Vinyl. Skin-tight, looks like. Only to a club, pal, and only if I were paid a million dollars.
She suddenly remembered the doll Sati had given to her. Carrie had been wearing that exact same outfit. If Morgain had had a voice, she would have screamed. She'd been kidnapped by someone who thought she was her sister!
No way in hell am I ever wearing that! she snarled mentally. The door opened, and a young-looking man with light brown hair stood there, lounging against the door. "Hurry up and change," he said, sounding bored. "He wants to see you."
Her eyes narrowed. 'There is no bloody way I am wearing that,' she signed. The man smirked. "Well, you aren't wearing those clothes either," he pointed out. "Le Vrai has a dress code, and ratty jeans aren't part of it."
Morgain looked at her old but comfortable clothes and shot the man her Glare of Impending Doom™. He laughed and walked all the way in, opening up a closet full of clothing. "Take your pick, then."
'Get out,' she signed, to which he grinned. "As you will, milady... take too long and I'm coming in. He is not a patient man."
The man bowed himself out and closed the door, while she resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Jerk. Morgain sighed and walked to the closet, where she discovered that everything was her size. Okay, now I'm getting freaked out... good God, is there anything made of cloth in here!?
Towards the back of the closet, which was about the size of her room at home, she found a dark blue dress that she rather liked, despite herself. For one thing, it didn't expose cleavage, for another, it was long. And it was cute, she admitted grudgingly.
Morgain wasn't stupid. She flipped off the light in the closet and changed in there. She also found some blue flats to match the dress that not only were her size, but more comfortable than the trusty boots she'd been wearing.
There was a large vanity in her room, with a large mirror to match. She took one look, then undid her hair and hunted down a brush. Anyplace with a French name tended to be a classy restaurant, and she refused to embarrass herself in front of her captor. After brushing it out, she found a scrunchie and tied her hair back at the nape of her neck. She looked at her reflection, then took the tie out. She looked less like Carrie when she left her hair long.
The door opened, and the same man walked in. He looked her over and let out a low, appreciative whistle, at which point she did flip him the bird. He merely grinned and led her out, keeping a strong hand on her shoulder. This guy wasn't taking any chances - his grip was almost tight enough to bruise her.
A jerk, but a smart jerk.
Just my luck.
A second man joined them outside a door, though at first Morgain thought he was a girl. "Baby-sitting duty, Abel?" the newcomer grinned. "Shut up, Tiger," 'Abel' replied. "The Frenchman wants to see her." 'Tiger' also looked her over. "She's younger than what he goes for. I thought he preferred real women, not virgin teenagers."
Abel punched him. "That is not what he wants this one for, Tiger. Who does she remind you of?" Tiger arched an eyebrow, and Abel sighed. "Think shorter hair and black vinyl."
"The One's woman?"
"Yeah."
Tiger whistled. "I feel bad for you, girlie," he told Morgain.
"Tiger. Open the damn door."
The androgynous Asian man smirked and did so; Abel steered Morgain through, walking her to a man standing outside a restaurant.
"Puis-je vous aider?" he asked. "The Merovingian wants to see her," Abel replied. The other man gave her a calculating look. "Ah, so you are ze one 'e 'as been expecting. Abel, you know ze way."
Abel steered her past other diners, mostly green, but with some gold scattered here and there. A second man came from the wings to join Abel in apparently guarding her.
"Cain, damit froh Sie Zeit sich genommen haben, uns anzuschließen," Abel hissed. "Schließen Sie auf, Abel. Wenigstens habe ich belästigt, zu kommen," the newcomer replied just as softly. (1)
Morgain had no time to wonder about what they had said; the man seated at the middle of the table leaned forward. "Ah, so zis is ze little sister of ze infamous Trinity. I see zat beauty runs in ze family; please, sit."
Morgain didn't see that she had much of a choice. She sat in front of the Frenchman, shooting a covert glance at his beautiful tablemate. Those two were quite the handsome pair - yeah, the French guy was pretty hot, in an older-man kinda way.
Hesitantly, she signed, 'Who are you?'
He smirked. "Ah, of course, 'ow rude of me. I am known as ze Merovingian; zis is my lovely wife, Persephone," the woman nodded regally to her, "and I believe you 'ave already met Cain, Abel, and ze Twins." Silver caught the corner of her eye; she turned her head to see the albino pair that had made Gunner so nervous. They were shrouded in a silvery aura, something she'd never seen... come to think of it, the Mero...whatever, his wife, and indeed everyone at the table shone silver.
She turned her gaze back to the Frenchman, who still had that enfuriatingly smug look on his face. "And you, ma chérie, are Morgain Davidson. Ah, but Morgain is such an ugly name, is it not?" he went on, his eyes never leaving hers. "I am sure zat you would prefer it if I called you Avalon, non?"
He had her undivided attention. Again the smug smirk. "Don't look so surprised, chérie, zat I know both of your names." 'But how–' she started to sign, but he cut her off. "I am a trafficker of information, mademoiselle. I know everysing about you zere is to know." Avalon's eyes widened as the full implications of this hit her.
"Before you ask, non, I do not know what 'appened to your sister. 'Owever, some friends of hers managed to… greatly annoy me, and I do know zey promised to look after you."
'So I'm bait.'
"Oui. But not just for zem... I 'ave ozer plans for you, chérie." He smiled. "And I can guarantee zat you will not like any of zem... such a pity zat you look so much like her. I might 'ave ignored you ozerwise."
Persephone could see the resentment in the girl's eyes, could read it in her code. She did pity the girl - after all, it wasn't her fault that she looked exactly like Trinity. However, the girl had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Persephone wanted a sample of her emotions to analyse. Not many humans grew up as she had, after all, and now that she knew that no matter where she went, she would always be trapped in the shadow of a sister she'd never met...
Persephone did have a fondness for the taste of despair. It reminded her that her own situation truly wasn't that horrible, especially now that her adulterous husband had shaped up a little. Oh, he still played around now and again, but the "special cakes" were a thing of the past, and he was no longer obvious about it.
Then again, she had threatened to remove a non-crucial part of his programming that was nonetheless important to him if she caught him at it again....
Persephone carefully hid a smile and idly wondered if she ought to maybe send One or Two in to pay the girl a visit. She quickly discarded that idea; the Twin assassins tended to go a little... overboard when they wanted to be intimidating. She'd much rather leave the girl to Cain and Abel, especially Abel. She needed to make up for killing him, after all, especially because she was rather fond of the slacker werewolves. And Abel had caught the girl.
Now, as for the Ghost...
She knew that her husband would most likely torture and kill the rebel. However, she could not allow that. She remembered his kiss, so much better than that of the One. She hid a smile that sprang from the fact that she knew something about Ghost her husband did not...
The One had not been the only man in love with Trinity... and the Merovingian would not be the only one using Trinity's doppelganger to trap Ghost.
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(1) Cain, damit froh Sie Zeit sich genommen haben, uns anzuschließen. -- Cain, so glad you took the time to join us.
Schließen Sie auf, Abel. Wenigstens habe ich belästigt, zu kommen -- Shut up, Abel. At least I bothered to come.
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Please note that the above translation comes from a free online translator. German-speakers, if you know a more grammatically correct way to say the above, please let me know; I appreciate it greatly. Thank you muchly!
-- Dark Puck