bakerstreet | They can't see you if you're not looking

Entry tags:

[meme] au

They can't see you if you're not looking

UNDERCOVER AU

Post your character. They're now undercover, either because they're an agent of an intelligence agency or for some other reason.

infiltrating the mafia/a criminal organisation
pretending to be dating/pretending to be married
double agents
infiltrating the music or the fashion industry
pretending to be lower/upper/middle class (when you're not)
whatever else you can think of!

credit goes to

forfun

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Listen, I'm not excited about this either." He responds, his accent becoming a bit more clipped, more of the Queen's English as they say, seeing her expression. "But they are expecting Mr and Mrs Rhodes at this underground auction." Callum is holding out an engagement and wedding ring that's big enough to finance a small war in Central Africa. This was still going better than most of his arranged 'marriages'. She hadn't thrown a fit, yet. Callum sighed evenly. "You only have to worry about it until 'death do us part', which considering the clientele might only be a short inconvenience." He deadpanned.

If looks could kill. Oni froze in the middle of slipping on her heels and stared, aghast, at the agent and the fucking Rock of Gibraltar in his hands. She'd understood that this was a suicide mission, since the "auction" they were supposed to attend was of human beings trafficked out of East Asia, and their objective was to bust up the hive of Kuei-jin whose interests lied in purchasing them-- But Callum neglected to mention before now that in order to get inside the auction, they'd be posing as husband and wife.

Husband and wife. "Have you lost your mind," she hissed under her breath, because one could only assume that the hotel rooms were under surveillance. Winters was a tough nut to crack, she'd give him that, and they'd done plenty of deep-cover operations, but there was generally a big difference between fighting alonside a monster like her and pretending to be involved with one. "They're gonna read your aura, or whatever. They'll see right through you."

So dead. They were so dead. Luckily for the two of them, they'd both been down that road before, but that brought to mind another thing. Maybe she was being paranoid, but the words 'Till death do we part,' had an official ring to it. Her mouth fell open, but for a second no words came out. "Till death do we... Callum, this isn't on th'books, right?"

Edited 2017-09-17 18:53 (UTC)

So much for not throwing a fit, he thought flatly as he tinkered with putting on a cufflink. Could shoot a gun with an arm nearly gnawed off and yet cufflinks somehow were a pain in the arse. He looked back at her through the reflection in the mirror that he was looking at with a brow that was raised. She seemed really surprised. Gauging her reaction, this wasn't something that was done. People don't just marry people to use them for other purposes.

Probably shouldn't tell her how many times I've been married.

But he smirks instead, the gleam in his eyes going a bit dark. Not treacherous, no. Unreadable, perhaps. Entirely out of necessity. Or maybe with a glint of something that churned with amusement in this dangerous experiment. "Well, Mrs. Rhodes." The grin widened even though there was tension in his smile. "No one ever said that it had to be a happy marriage."

His aura. He seemed nonplussed with her entirely rational concern. "It will be fine." He said as if that was the conclusion to the matter. There were other things that would be harder to navigate. He looked away for a moment, going over some of those 'harder' bits. Those that would require...treachery.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes used to actually be a human and werewolf husband and wife team. Which is why..." He let the obvious sink in. It was the best cover that they come up within a short amount of time. The Rhodes would have been at the event. That's how they had swiped their very real invitation.

On the books? He looked at her as if she was crazy. He did not respond.

Callum looked down and adjusted the shoulder holster that he expected them to find. After a long moment, he answered, "Of course it's on the books. How else do you expect to sell our cover?" Reaching down to tie his Italien made shoes, he added. "You should see the wedding photo's on Facebook." He smirked to himself wishing that he could see her face with that last, fabricated, bit.

Edited 2017-09-17 19:57 (UTC)

After all this time, she was no closer to being able to read that look, and it frustrated her. And, to make matters worse, his teasing barbs got under her skin. It reminded her of the way her own marriage had ended and, inwardly, she flinched. "Happy or not, it has t'be a believable marriage," she mumured around the lump in her throat, "So, unless you've been moonlightin' in th'theater..."

"--Really?" she asked, less than happy that he'd shrugged off her protests, but a little taken aback upon learning that the real-life Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes were a werewolf and her mate. A corrupted werewolf, evidently, if they were partaking in this gruesome trade. Then again, there were other varieties, apart from the Garou, who were less inclined to get all constipated over the wellfare of mankind.

If that were the truth, then, as much as she hated to admit it, this was as good a cover as they ever could've hoped for. Obviously, that was the reason he'd asked her along, and she watched his back while he finished with his shoes... Then held out her hand. "Give me th'ring."

Edited 2017-09-17 21:25 (UTC)

"You can call it that." Wasn't life in the Collective theater? You pretended you were something that you weren't to an audience that expected one thing but would get another. It was almost Shakespearian. And could he act the part of the husband? A little too well if the tears of ex-wives who knew no better were any indication.

What had happened to Mr. & Mrs. Rhodes after they had been detained? He pressed his lips down. The usual. They would be kept in two separate holding cells, played against one another in a bid to get more information in case Oni and Callum stumbled into a hurdle requiring more personal information than they had.

He straightened up and plucked the rings from the table that he had rested them on while he had dealt with his shoes. This was the ring that Mrs. Rhodes wore. Perhaps he would spare Oni that macabre fact. Or maybe she'd know. He wasn't sure.

Callum took the few steps toward her and shook his head."No. Give me your hand." He muttered softly. He took the hand that she had reached out for the ring with into his and turned it over slowly. "You know, I've been married many times in my life. For ops, I mean. It's never easy so, I can appreciate that this isn't your ideal night out. When we're done with this, the records will be erased. For now..." He gently eased the engagement ring on her finger first. The rest didn't need to be said, did it?

Edited 2017-09-17 22:02 (UTC)

Under different circumstances, the knowledge that the Collective might have garou in their custody would have slammed the breaks on any plans Oni had of working with Callum, but they were talking about a Black Spiral Dancer here-- Or some other kind of lycan, and the she-wolf owed them absolutely nothing. A tiny voice cautioned that the Collective might not make such distinctions between shape-changers, but she ignored it for the time being. If they weren't careful, she mused, they could easily find themselves in worse straits than the real Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes were currently in.

Her eyes widened, too astonished to move or even speak as he took her hand in his.

And as she listened to him, her brow furrowed just slightly; Oni wasn't certain if she felt sorrier for all the women he'd had to deceive over the years, or for Callum himself. Surely finding out that their marriage was a lie must have been heart-breaking, but at least, to those women, it had been real for a time. To have to pretend every day... How much more could the Collective demand of him? She really had no idea.

That he told her about it at all spoke volumes, especially when she knew he was under no obligation to do so. She considered it a small mercy, because he was very good at pretending. Too good. Her eyes fell from his face to their hands once the ring was on her finger, and she exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "For now," she agreed, when she found her voice again, "Yes." This was dangerous territory for her, but on the other side of that door stood the lion's den. She knew that one or both of them might not make it back out alive, but, if they did, they'd probably have Callum's acting to thank for that.

"D'accord," she inhaled sharply, giving his hand what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze, "I'm ready."

The plush carpeting of the hallway made a whisper of their footsteps, but they still sounded loud to her ears as they walked to the elevator at the end of this corridor. When the polished brass doors smoothly rolled open, Oni handed Mrs. Rhodes stolen invitation to the attendant waiting inside; The coded VIP pass was their one-way ticket to hell, and he flashed Oni and Callum a smile that showed all his teeth, punching a sequence of buttons that Oni committed to memory.

Edited 2017-09-18 21:53 (UTC)

He didn't let go of the hand that had given him a reassuring squeeze. Instead, he had reciprocated. His finger's interlaced with hers, clasping her hand in his pale one after he looped her arm through his. His lips returned a faint but reassuring smile and he lied confidently with his eyes as he looked right into hers. His expression said, we will be alright.

Whatever uncertainty still lingered in the truth of his mind, he shed like snake skin when the hotel's door closed behind them. That's the moment that Onida and Callum really ceased to exist.

They were going dark. No support. No backup.

Right before the elevator doors opened, he brought up her hand and gave her knuckles a slow kiss, enough that the attendant got a glance at the show of affection and a flash of the rings as the doors parted for them. Those were the little details that they wanted to have stick out in the memory of the attendant, they stole attention from other, more important, details, and little discrepancies.

Callum flashed his VIP pass as well and when the attendant's back was turned he slid his eyes over any subtle shifts of fabric. Two guns. Shoulder holster. He could see the faint line of the strap against the man's evening jacket as he leaned forward to press in the code into the elevator panel. There was a preference to lean on his right side even though he was, most likely, left handed. Old injury, perhaps. Or a relatively new one.

His thumb caressed the side of Oni's index finger. Ping! The gilded gold deco styled elevator doors opened with a soft swish. There was nowhere to go but up to the receptionist, standing at a podium that matched the elevator.

"Good evening." The man said pleasantly enough through a tight smile and feigned arrogance that only money and a lot of practice could buy. "Invitations, please." When they handed them over, they were scanned. As expected. "Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes. This way." Callum's hand moved to the small of Oni's back as he leisurely walked them behind the receptionist.

"I trust that your flight was pleasant?" They hadn't taken a flight. Since the host was arranging travel (it was a matter of 'security'), they would know how they had traveled here. Even the receptionist was groomed to catch people in lies. "Train." Callum replied flatly with an annoyed look. "Will we do this all evening? Again? It was the train and before you ask, yes, thank you, the dinner on board was lovely. My wife had a glass of Chardonnay. The duck was a little tough. Perhaps you can let the chef know? You know, for next time."

Mr. Rhodes, despite his very human condition, was forward and had a tendency to anger easily. Callum had to go with that and the fact that they would have been familiar with all the 'security' measures considering their attendance at similiar events. There was a reason why he didn't tell Oni about Mrs. Rhodes. The two shared very similar personalities. Having worked together, Onida would have figured that no knowledge meant that she already had it.

The receptionist looked completely unaffected. "Just making conversation, Sir. Right, this way." He took them to a foyer that looked like an airport security system for rich people. Everything was opulent.

"Please." Was all the receptionist said while inviting them to a biometric scanner. Oni would be familiar with this because the Collective had hacked enough of them on their behalf before.

When she'd lean over to get the scan, the line on the machine would go back and forth, back and forth, just like every other time. It would say, STANDBY. It would…take too long to scan, until finally, it read IDENTITY UNCONFIRMED.

Callum sighed audibly. "Do it again. Technology." He huffed. "See darling." He teased Oni with a grin. "You broke their machine with your beautiful eyes."

His nerves of his fingers tingled with the apparition of his gun in his hand. Which was just within reach.

She hadn't anticipated that the firm touch of his hand and the lingering kiss to her fingers would be such a welcomed distraction. It helped her feel... A little calmer. A little less like her heart was going to beat its way right out of her fucking chest. She wasn't exactly afraid of dying, no. But to have one's soul ripped out, what happened then? Did she cease to exist? Or would she be shackled forever to the Kuei-jin, doomed to follow him into the void if and when he finally perished?

Had she been human, one could argue that she already had too much in common with the Risen-- As with any Wraith, she'd staunchly refused to let go after death. To accept oblivion. Like Persephone, she'd reinhabited her destroyed body, but the jury was still out on whether this made her stronger, or more vulnerable to the undead.

'Guess we're about t'find out.'

A shiver ran down her spine, but Oni made no attempt to hide her body's reaction to Callum's hand warming the skin of her lower back because it helped their cover. Ideally, they wanted to control the impression they made on these people. For Callum this was second nature; He wore a persona as easily as he put on his shoes, but for Oni it was a bit more complicated than that. On the one hand, they'd be expecting a werewolf, and so a she-wolf was what they'd get-- Violence, barely restrained and thinly veiled by boredom and disdain. On the other hand, her auspice had a tendency to draw negative attention. She wanted to down-play that if she could, to be less memorable in case she got any of the finer details wrong, so she was dressed simply in a black, backless dress that was just expensive enough to allow her to fit in with this crowd of morally bankrupt billionaires. Anyone with eyes could see she wasn't concealing any weapons.

Oni schooled her features into a mask of mild annoyance directed at the receptionist while Callum expertly took him to task, "As if we came all this way for conversation." Werewolves weren't known for being a chatty bunch; At this point in the game, the less she said, the better, though she did her best to dial down her French accent.

She felt her nerves pricking back up, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end when she was prompted to use the biometric scanner. No matter how many times they'd done it, this part always twisted her guts into anxious knots.

Inwardly, she stiffened, half-way expecting a bullet to the back of her skull upon seeing the words IDENTITY UNCONFIRMED. Thank Gaia Callum knew what to say, because, honestly? She'd have been at a loss for words. Yes, stupid junk-yard machinery, that's it. Jesus Christ. "Flatterer," she purred, giving Callum a lascivious wink over one shoulder for his teasing.

Mentally steeling herself, she looked back into the scanner. Again a blue laser bounced back and forth over her eyes... And then it seemed to have a hiccup, hesitating for just a second or two longer than it previously had, the security system finally regurgitating the words IDENTITY CONFIRMED across the screen. "Honestly, its a wonder anything gets done," she said, with a breeziness she didn't feel, straightening up so that Callum could have his turn with the wretched device.

Hovering just beyond the biometrics, armed security personnel were waiting to pat them both down. Raising her arms above her head, she assumed the position, holding still for their obtrusive hands and metal-detecting wands with a patentedly impatient look on her face. Inside, she was dying. Only the memory of bodies in shipping containers, shriveled and dried up like corn husks, kept her from physically lashing out. It was a potent reminder of why they were there, though she still graced one guard whose fingers strayed a little too far up her thigh with a smile sharp enough to draw blood, her eyes glinting dangerously.

Those hands withdrew, and not a moment too soon. Turning on her heel, she watched with jealous eyes as they gave her 'husband' a similar treatment. Just as he predicted, they found his shoulder holster. "What, are you paid by the hour? And careful with his suit. It cost more than you make in a year."

Edited (LAST TIME, I PROMISE. I can't English, apparently) 2017-09-20 21:09 (UTC)

She was good, he thought. As if this came naturally to her. It made it easier to play the part because it felt like there was no part to play. Losing oneself in the cover was necessary for the very reasons she had highlighted in the hotel room. She made it easy to smile at that wink and hold her gaze with one of his own that whispered, 'just wait until we're alone.'

When the biometric scanner finally buzzed her clear, he let go a mental breath that he had been holding. The itch to reach for the gun abated, but only slightly. Callum huffed in agreement with his 'wife's' assertion, thinly veiling a displeased disposition. Taking his turn to look into the biometric scanner, he blinked. And then blinked twice in rapid succession. The scanner smoothly buzzed passed his cornea once and then twice, the almost imperceptible blip slowing in the middle. That there was a soft change in the light of the scanner would not register if someone wasn't paying very close attention. Callum blinked once sharply as an image was projected (like a cannonball) onto his eye. Fuck. It nearly made his eyes water.

IDENTITY CONFIRMED

That's not the only thing that was confirmed. The Collective had more than hacked the system. Callum straighten up, making the pretence of smoothing out his suit and moving forward as he dealt with the new information he was shown.

Callum raised a brow and cleared his throat moving forward to kindly remove the guard from touching his wife. If by kindly remove one meant, his hands. "You touch me like that and I'll beat you with the arm I sever off of you." He murmured, lifting the top of his jacket to remove the gun that they had found. The security guard showed him more teeth than any person should own. It'd be nice to remove them, he thought. He seemed disinterested when they put the gun in a guest vault, which wasn't true, but he grinned widely and winked at Oni instead.

"Jealous, love? You know how I love it when you get jealous." He said suggestively in a low rumble, spreading his arms apart for them to scan him. Moving to rejoin her, he took her hand in his, moving them along behind their new hostess, that led them down the corridor and through an open door.

And here we go. He thought as he looked around the decadent dining room. It seemed like that there were all sorts here. They followed the hostess to a table where, unfortunately, Oni and Callum were not the only guests.

"Good evening." He said, first pulling out the chair for his wife.

One of the men at the table looked them both up and down lazily. Callum got the sense that he wasn't human.

"Whether the evening is good or bad, will depend, yes?" Returned the man with a slight Russian accent. "Regardless, where are my manners. A good evening to you and your lovely…"

'Wife."

"Wife, as well." A curious look passed over the Russian's face. "You are new, yes?"

The look he gave her did strange things to the pit of her stomach. And when Callum asked if she were jealous, she let her gaze roam over him possessively, from the toes of his polished shoes all the way up to his icy-blue eyes. "Of course... I don't like other people's hands touching you," she murmured huskily, "That privilege should be mine alone."

Maybe it was because of the vibrant red tile, but the steps following their hostess down the corridor and into the dining room felt a little like walking into the belly of the Beast. 'Over the lips and past the gums. Look out stomach, here we come.' There was no point in using Sense Wyrm here, because everyone in the immediate vicinity set off her freaking radar, including the bus-boys. She'd have to go about finding the Kuei-jin the old fashioned way-- Not an impossible task, but still an annoyance.

While she smiled at Callum for his chivalrous gesture, the look she turned on their company was... A little sour, as if she'd just caught an unpleasant scent, which wasn't completely an act, since the man looking them over smelled a little like an open grave. That, coupled together with his accent, and Oni surmised that he was a Nawia, a creature who consumed the blood of women in childbirth. Not one of Cain's childer. Not too far from the Kuei-jin, either, but they were so few in number that their presence barely caused a stir. Even still, if they couldn't convince a Nawia, then they stood no chance of deceiving the Kuei-jin.

"Yes." she answered haughtily, reaching over to cover her husband's hand with her own, "But if you've seen one meat market, then you've seen them all."

Forgive me, Gaia, she thought. She let her eyes wander over the room, as if in boredom, although in reality she was scanning the crowd for anyone who looked in need of a good taxidermist. Quite accidentally, her gaze fell on the floor in one corner. Was that... Was that an eyeball? And did it just blink at them? What the fuck? Oni nearly did a double-take, but a waiter stepped across her field of vision and, the next she knew, it was gone. "Hopefully the wares will be worth the trip."

Edited 2017-09-22 15:12 (UTC)

He wasn't sure what made his hairs stand on end, the fact that everything in the room registered as one big headache or that whatever was sitting next to them spoke in an accent that reminded too much of his Russian capture at the FSB. It set his teeth on edge, forcing the cut of his jaw to look even sharper. He took a slow breath.

"How interesting." The Russian noted lowly. "We don't often get your kind here." He said looking at Callum. Of course, that could mean so many things. Maybe he meant human or, if it had abilities, it could mean more. The Collective's agents were mostly impervious to mind control and having their thoughts read, which sometimes gave rise to...questions. But perhaps this thing indeed just meant 'human'.

Callum snorted under his breath. "My kind? Buyers? I see plenty here, comrade." He leaned over to move a strand of Oni's behind her ear. "Would you like a glass of wine, darling?" Callum asked, using that opportunity to look around to locate a server or bar and look around as a result. The image that the hacked biometric system gave him was the location that two guns were stashed, probably by a Spectre-Imbued agent that was either still here or had booked it after their mission was complete.

But security here was tight as well. Right down to the camouflaged shadows against the wallpaper. No matter, he thought.

"Apologies. I did not mean to offend." Said the Russian lazily, motioning through the motions of being civil. "I was simply making conversation. That is what one does, yes? Before the proverbial pissing contest begins." He huffed a laugh as if he told a great joke. "Ah, yes. The wares. I hear that today will be exceptionally special. For this, I wear my best suit."

Great, a comedian. Callum thought, throwing his wife a look.

"One can hope. We were just saying that we hope that we could find something special today, weren't we love?" Callum smirked and leaned over to the Russian, "she gets disappointed when they break so easily. I try to tell her not to mix business with pleasure but..." He makes the motion of shrugging his shoulders, his hand disappearing under the table.

There was a sudden shift in the room. Callum's skin nearly crawled as two immaculately dressed people appeared in front of the room in front of a podium.

Shite raises to the top.

Edited 2017-09-23 23:51 (UTC)

Whereas she'd been looking across the other tables in the dining room, when the man seated beside them casually brought up Callum's kind, her eyes snapped back to the Russian's face. Had she known that Callum's mind was shielded from psychic intrusions, she might've have warned him; That kind of mental dam could make him more conspicuous, like negative space in a sea of static. She began to notice how all the eyes at their table were trained on him, at the same time realizing that, being human, he took far greater risks by coming here than she did. At least Oni could attempt to side-step to the Umbra, though she expected it'd be clogged with Banes of every shape and size.

She leaned into those fingers brushing back her hair. "I'd love one," she murmured, her eyes drifting half-mast. No, seriously, she thought. Bring back the bottle. If he wanted to prowl around the room, ostensibly to find a server or bring her a drink, it was the perfect cover to do so, and Oni had his back.

Returning her husband's wry glance, she rolled her eyes at the terrible joke.

"Guilty as charged. It's hard to enjoy my work when they're sick and frail or weak with hunger. Where's the fun in... That?" she asked, trailing off as their hosts finally graced them all with their presence. Like so many of the others crowding the space, Oni couldn't pinpoint who or even what they were, but Sense Wyrm went off the charts with their arrival. And in mere seconds, it became apparent why their new friend thought the individuals up for sale were so special... They were all children.

None of them looked to be older than 13. She didn't know what she'd been expecting-- maybe chains or handcuffs as they were marched out onto the stage behind the podium --but restraints weren't necessary. They shook with fear, their terror keeping them rooted to the spot. Who knew what horrors they'd witnessed, what traumas they were already subjected to since they'd been smuggled out of their own countries. The pair in their sharply tailored suits invited several of the buyers to approach the stage and inspect the children and Oni's stomach clenched so hard in revulsion, she worried someone would take notice.

With a start, she realized that the auction had already started. While she fought down her red rage, however, she noticed one of the men bidding on a younger girl. His features were Japanese, but something was... Wrong. His skin was sallow and his cheeks looked hollow, the flesh sunken in. Mentally, she counted the seconds but he never blinked, never took a breath. And neither did anyone else sitting with him. There were maybe six or seven of them, and they all sat perfectly still. She checked that no one was watching them but, for the first time since taking a seat at their table, those prying eyes were directed elsewhere and Oni gently squeezed Callum's knee to get his attention, marking their potential target with a pointed look.

Callum was about to get up from his seat to go locate the bar. Of course, he didn't need to do that at all at a place like this. The moment he looked around, the server anticipated his needs and brought the wine menu. Bastards. It wasn't really a surprise, of course, and it wasn't supernatural either. The man just happened to be a high-class server that probably developed a sixth sense that could anticipate his client's needs before they manifested.

"Thank you." He said pleasantly enough. God forbid that he had to ask for the restroom. Because that wasn't conspicuous. He sighed. A Collective issued gun would have been useful and, apparently, there were two hidden here. He looked around. Not in the decorative Asian urns in the front. Too conspicuous. Too easy. Perhaps perfect for other venues but not this one. But they were somewhere accessible. Unless Samantha was tasked to hide them. But, no. This was way above her current abilities (and appetite) for espionage. Besides, if he couldn't get to the guns, there were other weapons all around the room. Chairs, tables, forks…knives. Laced with his blood, anything could become a weapon. Let's hope, he thought, it doesn't have to come to that. He's said that before.

Callum placed a lingering kiss on his wife's shoulder when she spoke and then picked up where she left off. "She has very refined tastes." He explained with a smile that was meant just for her. "Mmm." He continued smoothly with a disturbingly cold look in his eyes. "Look, my love. You did always want children." It didn't phase him. Not at all. Even though he knew this was revolting, he's seen it so many times before. He side glanced at Oni to read her face. And then he did the unthinkable.

He lifted a finger. Interest. It caught the eye of the auctioneer. The auctioneer nodded only once.

When Oni's fingers pressed into his knee, he glanced in the direction she so expertly directed him to. He understood.

The auctioneer gestured for him to come. To inspect the goods. "Come, darling. Let us get you something to play with." He held out his hand to her as he got up and walked toward the front. He gave her hand a little squeeze and then let go. Because she wasn't going to like what he was going to do.

Callum did, in fact, inspect the children. He walked around them and eyed them for size, weight, appearance, strength. He let his worse nature take over. "Lovely." He said with a twisted smile. "Quality specimen." He leaned in a little to the auctioneer, presenting his pass. A scan of it again meant that he had just placed an opening bid on the little girl with big eyes that wouldn't stop eying him from under long dark lashes. He was also given an electronic device that showed what the bid was at now and would automatically deduct payment after an account was provided. The surroundings were elegant but the business was dirty, quick and efficient. "However," he began, with a nod of his head in thanks for the bidding device. "Do you have anyone younger this time?" He caught the auctioneer's eyes. "Much younger."

That seemed to perk up a few ears.

After a moment of careful consideration, the auctioneer cantered his head. "Please, take a seat. We will present lot two." Callum nodded and sat down a few tables from their targets of interest. It would take a lot to realize that the tightly drawn skin on their faces went even slightly more taunt and sunken at hearing Callum ask whether there were younger children available.

And here it was. Rolled into the room. A baby. Newborn. A hushed silence fell over the room.

Callum took that opportunity to bid on some of the kids. "Love, you liked the one at the end, yes? I saw you linger there." He said breezily like some haughty aristocrat. He didn't wait for her response. "Very good then." He mumbled inputting the numbers. Some people started to outbid him but others were too engrossed with the golden child.

He understood that this was a hard thing to watch. But it was the difference between trying to save a few children (aka, recruit an asset that can tell them how they got picked up, what happened, etc) that would have a memory of the tortures at the hands of these monsters and one that, well, probably wouldn't.

The Japanese guests slowly lifted a finger in unison.

She let herself enjoy the brush of Callum's lips against her shoulder. And then, as quickly as it came, the feeling of pleasure was abruptly dashed. His words cut through her worse than any knife-- You always did want children. Did she? Yes, she did, but not like this. Not like this. As he hailed the auctioneer, her eyes were trained on his face, and she'd consider herself very lucky if her own features weren't a pale mixture of confusion and horror; Obviously this was not part of the plan, because there wasn't a chance in hell that Oni would've agreed to this.

As if in a daze, she took his hand and let him lead her up to the dais. Some of the children visibly flinched, the moment her high-heeled foot stepped on the platform. One boy's trembling bloomed into a full-blown shaking, but there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't use Smell of Man -- Not here. Not in this company. She couldn't do anything to reassure these children at all. And though, logically, she understood what Callum was trying to accomplish, when she looked at those boys and girls, she saw herself at the same age... Frightened and emotionally scarred. Her teeth ground together in her impotent rage; Someone was going to pay for this.

For godssake, say something, she thought to herself, realizing, of course, that she hadn't uttered a word since her husband started bidding on the children. She sat at his side, neither of them blocking each other's view of the Kuei-jin a few tables over -- And, hey, if she looked like she sorely wanted to punt their heads clear to Long Island, this was an auction, right? Things could get tense. But, no, that wouldn't do. The plan was to draw as little attention as possible, and catch them unawares once the whole gruesome ordeal was over. Still dazed, she heard one of the attendants clear his throat. Something was wrong with the account number her husband entered.

"Run it again," she ordered, taking a page from his playbook with a withering sigh. It seemed the Kuei-jin placed the winning bid on the infant, and Oni was keeping an eye on them as they rose from their seats like corpses rising from the grave. They gathered around the poor creature, wheeling it out of view.

"Of course, Ms. Rhodes," the server acquiesced, nodding his head as he turned to leave.

"Mrs," she corrected, giving him a look. That should buy them a few more minutes, maybe, but what on Earth could be wrong with the account? As far as she knew, the Collective's resources weren't inexhaustible, but they were substantive enough to purchase a human child on the black market. Did anyone else know about their mission?

She briefly wished Ashley were here; one touch from him, and that handheld device would have done his bidding. All it'd take was one Glasswalker to bring this whole seedy operation down, and they'd do it without firing a single bullet too, but that wouldn't have stopped the Kuei-jin.

Just then, she got an altogether eerie sensation of being watched. That, together with the nameless instinct that whispered 'it's behind you,' and the she-wolf half-turned in her seat, pretending to take in the grandiose decorations around her. There, not yet sitting several tables to their rear... Was another garou. She may have been trying to impersonate a Black Spiral Dancer -- or not, since she didn't know if the real Mrs. Rhodes wasn't some other kind of lycan -- But that was the genuine article.

Merde, she thought, turning back around with her heart in her throat. Just as surely as she could tell he was a Dancer, he'd know she wasn't. And, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the backs of the Kuei-jin as they started to leave. This train was speeding off the tracks. "But just to be on the safe side," she raised her voice just slightly, catching their server's attention, "Why don't we check with our bank. I don't want to miss out on another lot."

"Do you have a phone we can use?" she asked, "We were instructed not to bring ours."

"Certainly." he sniffed, gesturing with a sweep of one arm, "Right this way, Madame."

There was someone that no one had noticed standing flush against the wall dressed in a tasteful cocktail waitresses uniform. Unfortunately, that someone looked like she was drug detoxing. Samantha jerked and shook a little as she tried to contain the reigns of her specter-imbued nature. Her eyes were glued on Callum and what's-her-name. The chick that somehow managed not to get daily 'do better' speeches. Samantha's lip twitched. She's not even one of us. A light from a vintage crystalline lamp flickered a moment. Control. Come on. Control. You got this.

But there were so many things here, pushing and pulling at the various energies in the room. Those energies--at least the ones from the mortals still present here and in an adjoining room, were tugging at her, trying to entice her just to absorb them, to become completely tethered in the physical realm, which was exactly what she didn't want right now. Her teeth squeaked as she ground them together as she pushed away from the need to absorb the energy. Balancing the tray of drinks on her hand was becoming difficult. Her lips turned down as she noticed the Black Spiral Dancer start to turn toward Oni.

Shit. She knew enough of what he was from reading his aura. He, was trouble. And Callum had nothing on him.

Samantha propelled herself off the wall, taking a few steps forward and then intentionally stumbling a step before tripping.

"Woah!" She yelled as she pitched forward with wide eyes.

Edited 2017-10-20 19:14 (UTC)

Callum followed behind them, looking back to see if they had drawn attention to themselves. "If we have any chance at the Kuei-jin, it's going to be now." He murmured into Oni's ear.

Everyone was still watching the lots. Everyone except the Kuei-jin and the Black Spiral Dancer who had thrown Oni a quizzical but malicious side-eyed glance. Callum looked back at him with a slightly chiding brow, a husband displeased with the attention that was given his wife in that whole don't look, don't touch pissing contest men were so fond of even though he knew that something else was going on here.

At that moment of distraction, he felt something bump into him and trip over his feet, and from the corner of his eye, he saw a silver tray fly into the air with the glasses that had been set upon it careening at him as expensive whiskey spilled onto his shirt.

He saw her lose her balance then too, taking him down with her when she grabbed his jacket to try to steady herself. "Sir! Oh, sir, I am so sorry." The voice. That slightly irritating cadence. His lips flattened into a bloodless line before he glanced up to glare into very pale eyes. Samantha. She barely looked at him as she moped up his suit jacket. He lifted it from his shirt so that she could and felt something being dropped into the holster behind the white material napkin that she was using. Ah. Yes. He congratulated her for a seamless exchange. Mentally, at least.

Regardless, she was probably about to get herself killed.

"You…stupid girl." He hissed out. Who had sent her? She wasn't ready for this.
"I didn't mean to, I'm so, so sorry. It was an accident." She leaned over to pick up the tray and then looked directly in his eyes. And then he knew. There was nothing wrong with the bank account. Samantha's presence was throwing off the electronic equipment. He could see how hard she was holding onto her control and it was slipping. Callum grabbed the napkin from her and dabbed at his shirt.

"Go." He growled out. He meant it too. Go. Leave. Get as far away from here as you can.
NOW.
She fumbled in picking up the errant glasses. Anyone else would attribute it to nerves, but Callum knew better. Or did he?
"Yes, sir." Samantha mumbled quickly and scampered off. Thankfully, most people had already put the incident out of their minds, even those that might reprimand her. Even as Samantha walked away, her skin seemed more pale and translucent as she did, so much so that for a moment, he had to wonder whether she had been there at all. She was, of course, but few would remember it.

"Unbelievable." He muttered at the mess of his suit, showing Oni the stain. "Forget the bank details for now. I have to go change." He informed his wife. "Darling, she ruined a perfectly good John Varvatos. That little bitch." Sighing, he stepped into the hallway, his feet tapping against the white marble. "Hold the elevator!" He called to an elevator half-full of Kuei-jin.

He took Oni's arm under his. "Quickly, darling."

"Sir?" Shit. "Ma'am?"
Callum turned around with a tight smile. Security. Again. "You have something in the vault? Please, allow us to retrieve it for you."
The lights flickered. Callum looked up at them for a moment in concern. His brow rose. "Keep it. It's worth more than—"

It was when the table lamp flickered off and didn't come back on again that Callum lunged at Oni, pushing her down to the ground with him and covering her head with his arms. At nearly the same time, the sound of things cracking and actually contracting befell anything that was glass or crystal. For a moment, everything was nearly suspended in silence and time….before it all exploded out with a thunderous shockwave turning everything into sharp, jagged projectiles.

If looks could kill. Samantha managed to evade even Onida's scrutiny, until she literally threw herself at Callum, and if the she-wolf's eyes were jealous when security guards patted him down, they were downright murderous now. It was all part of the act, of course, because, while she may not have known exactly what was going on, she knew that they'd drawn attention to themselves with their little crash, albeit momentarily.

During the exchange, the she-wolf kept her gaze fixed on the Spiral Dancer, her eyes flashing a fiery yellow while Samantha slipped her husband his firearm-- And if the wyrm-tainted werewolf had been anything else, anything at all, that look alone would have sent him packing. As it was, all he did was freeze, but at least he came no closer to them while the agent was crouched on the floor. All the other guests seemed keen to forget they'd seen the pretty server at all, content to go back to their business, thank Gaia. Indeed, Oni might have been the only one in the room who could track her movements at this point, but she turned her attention now to Callum. He was right... Their window of opportunity was swiftly closing on the Kuei-jin, and Oni almost gratefully took his arm when he offered it to her.

She took the napkin from him, fretting over his shirt. "Perhaps the concierge can do something with the stain," she suggested, almost purring the empty, hollow words, though her smile was sharp enough to cut steel, "If not, it's coming out of her narrow ass."

Oni barely had a chance to react. Everything happened so quickly; She should have expected the security guards, but she couldn't have anticipated that Callum would suddenly tackle her down to the tiled floor, and the explosion that followed plunged them in near-total darkness. She had no idea if this was the work of the Collective or not. Under the shelter of her husband's arms, Oni seized the opportunity-- And the confused panic gripping some of the guests quickly soured into suspicion and distrust, thanks to her Gift. Bitter rivalvies and ancient feuds that went back further than recorded history rose to the surface like a bloated corpse. Their hosts could sense the tenuous peace unravelling (even if they couldn't locate the source,) but they were powerless to stop the pandemonium as conflict erupted in the dining room, the guests brawling amongst themselves.

Their path was suddenly free and clear, as the same guards who checked them at the door were summoned by their employers, desperate to restore order before they completely lost control. Oni helped her husband to his feet but, in the very next instant, she heard the elevator bell ringing behind them. He said hold the elevator, assholes. Without thinking, the she-wolf sprinted to the elevator doors. Her claws sank into the polished brass, and sparks flew, metal groaning as she forced the doors open.

Callum got onto his feet with Oni's help and looked over his shoulder to the dining room where the violence was spilling over into the corridor. Whatever the Black Spiral Dancer was doing in there, wasn't good. There was a sick green colored bale fire-like glow creeping out of the room like tendrils of disease that corrupted and wilted whatever it touched, like the eucalyptus and rose flower arrangements at the mouth of the door that furled into itself and rotted. Callum didn't have time to wonder about it as a vampire was hurled through the opening and crashed into the wall leaving a plaster imprint of his body in it as he slumped against the ground.

Two of the guards ran out of the room suddenly as if they were being chased by something but saw an opportune moment to charge at him. Callum narrowed his eyes, assessing their movements, the way they pitched forward like rabid dogs, throwing themselves off balance if they didn't hit their mark.

He waited. They lunged at him like errant box springs. Still, he remained glued to his spot. One of them reached out to him in flight with their elongated fingers. It was only at the last moment that he slithered sideways, relieving them of their firearms as they hurtled passed him with a dawning look of surprise.

Callum walked away and did not bother to look back as they crashed through the stained glass Tiffany penthouse window and fell thirty stories to their deaths. If he strained to listen over the din of violence, he might be able to hear the faraway car alarms go off where they spattered and exploded over the roofs of shiny black limousines that were now capped with gore. It looked like silly string. Really red, really bloody silly string.

Instead, he sprinted after Oni who was opening a can of undead sardines. He knew the Kuei-Jin were hard to kill. Some jumped bodies when threatened. As Oni forced the door open, they glanced at one another with an obviously forced calm. But they had leverage. One of the chi-eaters picked up the baby they had purchased from its bassinet by the nape of its neck like it was nothing more than an animal. The baby wailed loudly but gurgle as it choked, flopping around its tiny feet as the air was being cut off to its throat.

"We humbly recommend, Inu, that you let go of the doors unless you would like to be responsible for this child's demise." One the vampires turned to face the back of the elevator, waving his hand over the back and using chi to trace the dragon line into the wall.