This early update is for you, pineapplefish! You are awesome! Thank you for inspiring me to continue writing!
Everyone else: Please review! The story can only get better if you do!
~Happy reading!
Chapter Eight: Fun Company
Azula PoV
One-twenty-three. One-twenty-four. One-twenty-five…
I count off my push ups in my head.
I should have known that Slade would push me farther directly after a day break of nothing. But whatever.
Karma, or something along those lines.
The door slams open and Slade storms through, making me jump from the unexpected bestiality. I continue my exercise, and Slade stands still with his arms over his chest a few feet away from me. He just watches, his lone eye calculated.
Creep.
"Get up; it's time to go."
Jumping up to my feet, I see Slade is already halfway to the door. I jog after him.
"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice slightly smaller than it should have been.
Slade is either really pissed, or he's murderously pissed.
"To visit an old friend. Put on the suit the Wintergreen is going to bring your room, and wear the domino mask."
Raven PoV
"Why haven't you killed him yet?!"
Mario Falcone paced angrily beside his desk. His slowly balding head shows the years of pre-aging that accompanies with his stress-filled life. His brown button down dress shirt had recently been pressed; there were no wrinkles in the fine silk.
"It's not that simple; he's the best mercenary in the world, he covers his tracks and watches his back," I snidely reply.
"I paid you to kill him! I want it done! If he gets in my way one more time I swear to you that you will be dead, as well as him!"
"I will kill him, I just need time," I huff, exasperated.
A nock at his office door makes both our heads turn, and then a young man walks in. The boys' aviator jacket and brown tousled hair make me think he could be Mario's son, until I see his eyes. They are burning red, unnatural, and devilish.
He charms a smile my way until he hints at my glare, then turns his attention to Falcone instead.
"Firefly, this is Raven. Raven; Firefly," Falcone introduces us with gestures. "He is also helping with your assassination, just, from a different angle. So, let's hear it; report."
"The land around Slades house is chalked full of booby traps; from nets and cameras, to death pits and landmines. His robots patrol the area regularly. Along with the other older guy he lives with, there's a girl, probably about my age. Her name is Azula. She's pretty hot. I think she's his new apprentice. I'm not sure if she's his actual daughter or not."
"It's not," I interrupt, "Azula was in a group home before the lady was killed a few months back."
"Alright then, Firefly; get close to the girl, see what she knows. Raven, change of plans, this girl could get us what we need. Don't kill him just yet. Just observe and report."
Azula PoV
The suit Wintergreen had given me was jet black, with grey accents, grey utility belt, and flexible silver armor plates for my arms and legs. The top of the chest and neck looked like metal armor but it was really a thin bullet resistant material that was made to look heavy. A domino mask came with the suit; I put it over my eyes, per instructions.
Once I see Slade, I realize why half the house is orange and black and what inspired my suit.
Half of his suit is orange while the other is black. His mask only has one eye hole, though I suppose showing off his dead eye wouldn't help much.
"Nice color scheme. I was wondering if you really liked Halloween or if you just liked orange a lot."
He gives me a death glare, one that says stop talking.
"Tonight is serious; no quirky remarks, no sarcasm. Got it? Don't speak unless spoken to. You are my apprentice. Act as such, especially tonight. We are meeting with someone very dangerous. Do not be disrespectful."
"I won't, scouts honor," I gave a Girl Scout solute, which earned me a sigh and a shake of Slades head.
"Sorry," I mutter, stifling a giggle, "So where are we going?"
"We are staying here; they are coming to us."
"But I thought you said—" He interrupts me.
"I said that to get you freshened up and ready. Do not question me," He replies sharply.
He's bipolar, I think to myself. But I can handle that; my old roommate at the Kirkov house, Monica, was bipolar. Of course I hated her; I made food explode in her hair when I was eight.
"Our first guest is Richard Swift, he should arrive first. Some say he is the devil incarnate; don't fuck with him."
"So he's a super-villain?"
"He can manipulate shadows," Slade turns away from me and stands before the door in time with a nock.
The lights flicker and dim, then suddenly go out. It's still light outside but I suddenly can't see three feet in front of me. I hold my breath. I'm not scared, let me get that straight. I don't know what to expect.
The darkness fades seconds after it appeared but a man in a black suit and top hat stands in front of Slade. His hair is a jet black while his eyes are tinted gold, and a golden handled cane hangs from his arm. His eyes scan Slade, and then me.
"Demon, what is your name?" He asks me in a silky tone.
"I'm not a Demon."
"I can sense it, you are pure darkness. Your mind lies in the murk of the lagoon while your soul is lost to the cosmos. You are very powerful I assume, or of high blood."
"I said I'm not a Demon."
"You can stop tormenting my apprentice now, Richard. I have a business proposition for you."
"Oh goody. Shall we wait for the others to get here, or should we start the circus early?"
"I must brief the next two of your presence so we don't have a problem," Slade looks at me sternly, "Show him to the parlor."
Dammit Slade, I think to myself, I don't like this guy.
"This way," I lead him down the giant hall to an ornate orange and gold door that is twice as tall as me, and lead him through.
On the far wall, the fireplace sits unused and dusty. Several ornate couches line the floor with glass coffee tables in between.
"Make yourself at home," I gesture towards the seats.
I sit on one of the couches and he sits acrossed from me. He' just stares at me, and it's kind of weird now. Creepy, even. I stare back; if it's a contest he wants, it's a contest he'll get.
Golden eyes peer into my sapphire ones. Neither blinks. He speaks first.
"My powers come from infernal properties and you my dear reek of Demon. You are a Halfling, no doubt. You have Demon in your eyes," He assesses, his lips move graciously while his eyes never waver from mine.
"I don't trust you," My voice venomous, "Therefore; I don't believe anything you say."
He looks away and chuckles a bit, then becomes serious again.
"Very wise, Miss Azula, very wise."
I stifle a shiver, "I never told you my name."
"Ah, wise and clever. I know more than you can guess, my dear."
I was about to tell him to go screw something, but the doors swing open, reminding me that Slade told me to not mess around with him.
Slade is the first to walk through, followed by a red haired woman in a skintight red suit with silver gloved hands and shoulder armor, and two guns strapped to either hip. The last to enter is a man in a black armor suit with a red "V" starting at his chin and reaching his ears on either side. He also has a grey chest holster for two guns, and a shotgun is strapped to his back.
Fun company.
"Azula, this is Manhunter," Slade gestured to the woman in red, "And Vigilante," gesturing to the man in the black suit.
Slade continues, "This is Azula, my apprentice."
