The tower that stood in Django was always dark. It was mid-morning though, but there was always just some sort of gloom over the land. The doom and gloom of the bedroom of one Ranchel Bee was even colder. There was no light at all there. No windows to any of the rooms. It was a cold fortress of metal. Still yet, her room was the darkest in the whole structure. Even darker than the elevator shaft and the boiler room. Her door slid open quickly.
Light broke into the room as a second woman enters the room flipping the switch on illuminating the whole room to his disgust. Her gi of blue and her tight pants of black as she sits on her bed meditating. How she knew the light went on is unfathomable. She wears her headband with the symbol sort of like a cut-off rainbow half without the separation of colors. Still, with that on she is not able to see, and yet she does. Some believe that she has trained her other senses to their best. And others question why she wears it. She has worn it forever. Yet she is not blind.
"I bring you dinner." The second woman laughs. Her hair a honey brown with the ends in curls. A black collar around her neck. Her wardrobe odd in fashion being that it was a tight purple suit that went to her thigh where it then went on to long black boots. A cat tail hanging from her back. Orange buckler with sharpen claw to the fingertips. Ranchel does not flinch at all. "Are you brooding over a man?" She scoffs. She was aware that Ranchel would never concern herself with men. Ranchel was heartless it was said. Only interested in killing one particular person, but never saying who it was.
"You're right Honey. I do have a man on my mind." Came Ranchel's emotionless reply.
Honey nearly flinched. She had not expected her statement to be true. "Is that so?" She still does not believe it. Each of them were part of McCoy's so-called 'Senarius Six' group of assassins and others that he had brought together. Honey herself a beautiful, seductive, beautiful (cause it must be said again) assassin. Secretly, each of these two women desire to fight Frank. One wants to kill him, (Ranchel) and the other just to fight. Honey wants to fight the ultimate fight, and she thinks him strong. Ranchel desires the gauntlet. She wants to know it's power, and also, she is a descendent of Hawthorne. She believes it should only belong in her hands.
"Yes. I think of a man who I was fated to meet and…may have even been looking for, for a long time."
Honey takes a seat on the bed and looks on intrigued. "Oh? Tell me more about it. Like what the man's like. Handsome?"
"His name is Jet Enduro." Ranchel admits. "I have sworn myself to kill him." She continues casually.
Honey frowns in disappointment and stands. Not the romantic stuff she was looking to find out. "I don't know why I'll bother, but why do you want this man, Jet Enduro, dead?"
"Because he has gray hair."
The look of confusion could never be matched by any other. Honey was just downright puzzled by that reason for death. A hair color? She shrugs, "Whatever. I guess I should just expect that from your violent nature."
The second woman leaves the room to it's owner. There is silence in the lit room. Without any movements the lights return to shadow. The switch flipped without touch. "The gray hair of the woman who betrayed my ancestor, Hawthorne, will die. No matter who they be."