Syncopy

With Adara's question the demon looked back to the metal-suit-encased albino with a sort of half-curious look: it was something that may have said, I know we just asked for one hundred thousand dollars, but do you have some spare time to talk about our Lord and Savior Epoch. Cross couldn't help but laugh and nodded slowly to both of them, "Anything specific? I've read up on you two and have some ideas already on how to make You more Utility Support and you ..." He pointed to Adara with a smirk, "More lethal. Fire is extremely effective, but if you run out of air ..." He sucked in through his teeth slowly, making a vacuum sound before mimicking a popping motion with his hand like balloon. "Either way, if you think of something... I have your transmitter frequency. Just use it to contact me." "Oh! Real quick; heading east to accomplish this... do you have some transport to drop us off?" "Sure. I'll send for the Atlas and it'll be on the outskirts of town within two hours. Does that work for you schedule?" "... perfectly." "Excellent. It'll take you out toward the Scar and drop you off on the east side." Dante watched as the helmet collapsed over Ventus' face and then a peace sign was thrown before he took a single step and bolted off above the city scape and then went supersonic, cracking against the sound barrier and rocketing off into the clouds. Dante watched for as long as he could, actually having pivoted to stare into the distance wistfully before grinning, "Man, that was cool... A hundred grand, just for walking out of our own bar." "Lead the way—let's take out the gang and then head east..."

Dante accepted the handshake without a second thought as the man revealed himself to the pair ... in the most non-sexual way possible. The demon's mind wandered curiously to what the man was wearing beneath the armor, but sidelined the quandary for the status quo. The name rang a bell and when he dropped the company name: Valorous Future Industries, Dante's eyes widened and his mouth parted and he pointed at Cross while looking at Adara. "This is one of the guys we were supposed to check out for our technological needs. I heard he was--I heard you were the god of technology! I also heard that you were one of the few people to escape the Cosanastran army! And ... that there was rumor and speculation of the Valorous being apart of a prison break..." Dante's voice trailed off, wondering how taboo his ranting and excitement was. "Well ..." Ventus cleared his throat, "That is all mostly true. I had a meeting with the Cosnastran government that went south, I also have heard the rumors of the prison break..." Cross cleared his throat, "And I was born a hybrid -- technomancy is in my blood." "Awesssssommmeeee..." Dante stared like a child looking into a toy store. "Oh. Right. The job. Where's it located? What are we looking for? What do you mean ... ish?" "The Prime desires a power source that's specialized... a mineral called Kybarium, Kyba for short. It is only found in the Devla Sands to the east. The ish is ... it's supposedly in a rather large sand worm." "In ...it?" Dante tapped his chin. "In it." Cross confirmed, looking at Adara. "I'm sure she can punch her way through... I've never personally seen one, but I'm a busy man. Your accounts have been credited with eighty percent of the job total, which I would say for this is 100,000 credits. It's dangerous, I wont lie to you. You've been fronted eighty grand -- is there anything else that I can get for you two before I make my exit? You can find me at VFI, due east of here about fifteen miles, if you need anything..." Dante just stared. Mouth open. Dumbfounded. The demon pulled out his phone and tapped a few keys and stared, holding the phone up to Adara, speechless. "I told you ... the Prime has so much money they don't know what to do with it..."

— Cross The arcana stood there for a moment, listening to the 'mental bantering' before dropping a cognitive pin on the subject for Lucille to research more in depth while he tried to smooth the waters. With his hands raised slightly to hip level, Cross nodded slowly and shrugged, "Money is no object. We have Defense contracts with enough zeroes to make your head spin... I assure you, I am good for it." \ You haven't even introduced yourself. \ Audibly came a female voice. Her sass was justified and the tone of frustration would have been paired with rolling eyes and the gesture of 'pfff ... men' to be attached. He stared momentarily as if a deer in the headlights of reality and palmed his own forehead. "Of course! No wonder there's such skepticis...-wait, they're new to the area though." The arcana shook his head and offered a metallic hand while continuing, "My sincerest apologies. I get ahead of myself at times. I research. I sift information from everything. So I know you, but you don't know me... please forgive me." \ Still haven't... \ Lucille charmed. "Right, right. You can call me Ventus, for now—Commander of the Valorous Order of the Northern Sky and Chief Executive Officer of the Valorous Future Industries. I have a lot of fancy titles, but none of them stop me from getting around or into a lot of trouble as well..." Whether or not the handshake was received, Cross wheeled about on a heel and pointed skyward. There was a visible disc with smaller discs around it that would have been about the size of a fly from their position and he pointed directly at it, "That is The Prime; a snobby bunch, but they have more money than a djinn could ever manifest and haven't a clue what to do with it. So I help them spent it, and right now, I need an artifact." Aqua eyes turned back to the pair, "That's where you come in. That gob of money can be yours, as well as any other loot you find, but there's a catch. Ish." Lucille silently chimed to him once more. / If my calculations are correct, they own the better part of a quarter million on the establishment due to this Zoning part and their accounts are damn-near nothing... enough to make less than a half-years worth of payments at the moment... / \ ... in this zone? Buy it. \ Vortian and Lucille's silent communications didn't affect his exterior communications in the slightest as he watched the pair cautiously, trying not to scare them off, but in the same token—he was a celestial technomancing arcana... how much weirder could this get?

Dante's mind processed what it is he was hearing and things slowly didn't seem to add up. Whoever this guy was, whatever the fuck he was, he knew WAY more about them than they ever wanted anyone to know about them on the first date—but they were at a blind-sided loss. All this knowledge of their presence in Arkadia Prime and who they even were surprised the demon's curiosity and he bit—hook, line, and sinker. Who are you? "Wait, wait... how lucrative are we talking?" The smart comment went right out the window at the mention of money. Dante didn't have the heart to tell Adara that right now, they were running on flat broke. Barely two pennies to rub together and enough to float the mortgage on their new investment for at least six months, praying that the tide would come in and the bar would be a success. The income of the bar was tied to their prosperity in this country. If it flopped now, they would have nothing... A pointed tooth caught the demon's lip slightly as he nibbled impatiently and looked to Adara with a worried look. * We cannot afford to not take this job... * He said with a look in his eye that she would know too well. They needed a break. Badly. He'd totally forgotten about the stranger's knowledge of their previous transaction, due to the adrenaline and speed of the situation.

— Cross "My apologies, Ms. Vitalos. You are correct, however with your latest establishment and endeavor, I was not sure if you had an operational phone yet. Or if you'd switched from the Terrenus Line Company, to Ark Prime's yet..." A faint glimmer of the sifter's knowledge graced the moment and then it was gone, to answer her fast-loaded questions. "I have a proposition for you. It's lucrative, on my word. I need you to recover me an artifact, and in return I will add you to my accounts payable line and call on your operation and skills now and again. Not-so-Simple matters, more than likely with my line of work, but it seems you desire a challenge now and again." He chewed at his lip curiously, thinking she needed something more than fire to compete with some of the operations they may encounter, but it was up to her to ask for just how much power, she desired... "The things you could accomplish..." He grinned wistfully. He loved to see people at their potentials and greater. Technology changed the world.

No, no, no, no! "NO NO NO NOO!" Dante saw the fight happening before his eyes. He jerked the bike to one side, as to not run into the targeted individual and threw his hand up into a portal before the bike. Tires squelched against the asphalt, leaving a trail of his escape before vanishing, to leave wisps of cinder and crackling hellfire in his wake. Within the same instant, he was behind Adara, jerking the bike to the side before watching the funnel take a hold of the man. "Holy shit, dude... you killed him... he's toast. But ... I think he wanted to talk about something!" Dante yelled over the roar of the flames. "He could have tried killed me at any-- ... what the fuck?" The funnel rolled inward, like it was trying to implode on itself. Dante's confusion was plastered all over his face as snapped that demonic gaze to Adara's hands and noticed there wasn't any sort of movement or strain. Usually she seemed to control these things mentally, but had a tell to go with her poker face. Is she pissed enough to be doing this by sight? "How the hell are you do—AHHHWHAT THE FUCK, GUY!?" Suddenly it seemed, a man appeared. The man. The same. Dante flinched so hard, he nearly fell sideways off the bike as this revealed white-face had just seemingly whispered down from the heavens between Dante and Adara. "...w-wait. Did you say customer?" The demon's jaw dropped and remained so, looking to his fiery vixen.

— Cross The crackling of fire and the rushing of wind consumed the woman, and the only thing the stranger could do was grin from behind the face shield with a curiosity-satisfied smile. All of the rumors had been put into the fact bin, as the simplistic triggers ignited her passion to the point that she even spoke to her partner, as though this enigma wasn't even standing before her in a mass of technological godhood. The mix of technology and the arcane was something never having been achieved before in this country, let alone the world of Valucre. The manipulation of circuitry on a spiritual level, by means of birth—the innate ability to commune with electronics set him above his tech-savvy peers and the magical-presence to do something about it carved the foundations of his legacy and legend. In these parts, the Valorous Future Industries was the most prosperous company in nearly all of Alterion and also a force to be reckoned with. With a kiss of 'something else' it turned this man within the machine into a being destined for Sainthood on a supernatural level. The flames engulfed his frame. Encased him. Concealed him... It was in this moment he felt the urge to end this debacle and calm the tides, but not by hurting anyone—he wouldn't want to damage the reason he was here to begin with. But a headstrong power like Adara's would need to understand where she stood in the food chain; it was a difficult self-assessment to be bested, certainly—but when you're an entity of fire, facing off against a being of water with the technological prowess of this man in a mysterious suit, understanding your adversary should have been the first assessment to begin with. Knees bent within the fatal funnel of flames, unscathed, the verniers charged in his hands and legs—all thrusters pushed to maximum. The celestial activation of the TetraDyne for Swift to activate and the unison was perfection. He jumped. Using the momentum of power from the legs, all thrusters hissed violently through the small pressurized verniers and then Swift activated, adding an instantaneous propulsion. The accumulated speed sucked the flames from the ground to dare to follow him skyward, rolling inwards on themselves into a donut shape. In the blink of an eye, the flames would be rolling forever unto the heavens until their oxygen content had grown thin enough to simple flame-out. In that sleight of hand maneuver, darting from the flames and smoke back to the earth, the man stood within six feet of Adara's back and chuckled softly, looking up at the fiery ring. "Bravo, Ms. Vitalos—your name and talents precede you, as well as Mr. Craven. But I wonder ..." With a lifting of his hand, Cross touched beneath his right jaw and the face shield dropped to his throat and helmet retracted to the base of his neck revealing a man who was in desperate need of the sun. Eyes that encased the oceans blue with a bed of circuits and technology beyond the pools and fiber optic shocks of hair, a total mess from the helmet fanned out in aquamarine-tipped ebony. Etches of pale blue hyperthreading ran across his flesh, which seemed almost translucent on its own, left him rather an alien face to bear stark contrast to the slate suit he wore. "Do you always try to attack your customers?" There was evident snark in his voice, but the man was an experience combat veteran; more than just little one on one or two on one battles, but wars waged, menacing criminals dealt with, and Class V Legends hunted...

It was in the moment that the suited being spoke that Adara's bike could be heard screeching at the intersection before the tires dared to grip the asphalt and propel her back this direction, that the words of the figure left Dante a little confused. First and foremost, he didn't attack when he could have which puzzled the demon, but then the comment left Dante's mouth parted slightly, searching for befuddled words. "How did you know I contacted her?" He was silenced by a hand as Adara came rolling damn-near off the bike and rushed in the two punches. Dante raised a hand in protest to his partner with his dumbfounded mouth hanging open again. He would have said, 'noooooo' or 'maybe this is a bad iddeeeeeaaaaaa' but instead he scoffed as the flames squelched against the chestpiece, forcing Dante to shield his face from the flames that gushed in all directions BUT the stranger. The heat was intense and he made a sort of 'ah ah AH' noise—much like scarfing into a piece of freshly cooked pizza, only to find lava beneath the sneaky pepperonis. " ... oh, come on ..." Dante squeaked out, as he listened to the enigma taunt Adara. He taunted her. Who the fuck does that? Does this guy have a death wish?

— Cross \ Well ... check one for the report being right on Dante being a soft spot. \ The suit held up a momentary hand to Dante, as the bike came whirling back. "You see what you've done..." Taking a step toward Adara's motion, he saw the flames rolling from her digits as she pushed as hard as she could to his torso. Her power was admirable, to be certain and he slid for almost six inches before coming to a halt and just looking down at the thin woman with fiery eyes ... and hands. The flames licked across the suit and he wondered for a moment what exactly he should say or do. On one hand, the man's friendly nature and calm attitude taken from being a CEO and boss had a changed him from the once-upon-a-time troublemaker that he used to be, but the daring curiosity to see whether or not the rumors of Adara's temper were true, were too much to contain. The flames of her impact scalded and rolled across the plates, shimmering like obsidian, but nothing truly happened. To a keen eye, the impact would have had thin rippling hexagons of azure upon impact, which shock-waved translucently across the framework of the suit for a split second before dissipating. "Dear girl..." He stated—sexistly condescending; surely that was a trigger for someone of her recorded nature, "The rumors spoke higher of your talents. Surely that wasn't it..." And a questioning insult to her ability. If he hadn't been hunted by a government, blown up, hurled across a city, and dealt with the years of shit he had—the anticipation may have been akin to anxiety, but it was just eagerness at the moment... —Elemental Defense: [ Max Tier | Negates 100% Fire damage ] : Primarily used to negate the effects of friction during flight; ELE.DEF is specific to Fire and Kinetics.

The HUD scanned the area of the known anomaly and found this place to have residual staining of the arcane, an all-too familiar substance and energy model, which made this particular man far easier to track than anyone else he'd had to hack the globe to find. The dossier was extensive and yet their traveling made it difficult to find, but now that they'd willingly moved into his world ... well, it was only a matter of time. They'd come out of the building. The female gave sassy banter. "You notice him looking up toward us?" The man nodded, impressed. / He's good. They both are... / / Vitalos, Adara. Approximately twenty years of age. Known as the Champion of Muspell and enjoys smashing faces in and lighting them on fire, literally. She's a rare Pyromancer. Her dossier says she's Extremely Hostile and can somehow manage to get even more aggressive when messing with the man, Dante Craven. His race is unknown in the system, but he can manipulate time-space. Unknown how far, extremely agile, and together they're a rag-tag duo for relic hunting and money-based investigation. Now tavern owners, it seems / "It does, doesn't it. Good on them. Shall we stop in and say hello?" The suited man stood slowly and stepped from the roof and verniers silently whispered into the street, coaxing him to the asphalt with no sound or incident and in moments he stood before Dante quietly, awaiting the interaction. His surprise was amusing to the man, but interesting because he wasn't focused on him just then, but the enigma had taken extra precautions to be quieter to see if Mr. Craven could indeed, be snuck up on... it turns out, that he could. The signal transmission passed through the HUD and he turned to look in Adara's direction, as she was nearly a half-block away already, "Do you always call for backup, when meeting strangers?"

Dante had to grin and laugh about this. He knew what she would pick because he knew how her mind thought and body reacted; every curve, every sinew, every cell within her being had a living flame within it—of this, he was sure. So to feed the flames pure, unadulterated adrenaline, was to truly know her. Nothing else mattered to her, but the next fix. She was already in the garage when his ears demonic ears perked up and he looked around the dark and empty street. Something unusual caught his attention, but Dante turned and stepped into the garage when he heard the rattling roar of a thousand cubic centimeters snarling from within the dark cave. "Junkie..." He muttered to himself. She'd whizzed past him, in the garage with a mentioning of a race, and a smile spread across his face. Cheating, sure—enough that she was already pushing out of the garage when his bike howled in the night and pulled out of the doorway. He lifted a hand and hit the button on the inside through an gaping portal before looking toward where Adara was heading and narrowed his eyes. A couple pulls on the throttle and the bike lurched forward—only for him to pull the brakes hard as a man now stood before him. He looked like he was literally a ninja, but in a metal suit. Dante's mouth parted slowly and he let up off the bike as sat up slowly. "Look, man. I don't want any trouble. ... but that suit is dope as fuck." Something that he and Adara had invested in when they got to the Tech Hub of Valucre was a small dot that could have been mistaken for a mole right behind the ear, which enhanced the mental functions of any normal person into a baby telepath. It was rudimentary and had its limitations like short messages, but with them both having one, he nudged her. / Company. Come back. /

Dante nodded faintly as Adara passed, watching her stroll by with a confused look on his face before she vanished and mumbled something to himself about the need to take a shower and then go pound more people into the ground seemed like a nonsensical waste of time, but didn't dare spit gasoline on a woman who lived and breathed fire. Age. Five years ago, he never would have let that filter be something. With his fine wine, Dante's age allowed for an oddity of progression to comprehend that saying something to someone [especially Adara], could net him some trouble sometimes, yet he had learned somehow, someway that sinking those demonic canines into his tongue once and a while was bittersweet. Humans called this maturity; he called it 'don't wanna get my ass kicked.' After she'd been gone a minute and the shelves were obsessively immaculate, he snickered darkly to himself and then sighed, "What the fuck is wrong with me..." A glint of demonfyre blazed in his eyes and a grimace peeled across thin lips, "Oh, right." Dante chuckled at his own internal struggle and stepped out of the storage room and into the bar once more where a man was groping one of the waitress' asses as she was taking the order from another table. He was drunk and sweaty, but wore plenty of expensive golden jewelry and looked to fit the part of a Don. "Hey. Did she say you could do that?" Dante snipped. "Yes, sir—she did." The man hesitate for a moment, frozen in the act of taboo and staring at the bar owner with nervous eyes, unsure of what may be coming next. Dante's eyes shifted to Natalie, a stout female with large assets and about a head shorter than Adara. She had her own wiles about her, gifts that led her to this place and with a wink from her, Dante nodded and grinned. "Good. I don't want to deal with sexual harassment or anything..." He waved a nonchalant hand and walked off. Moment later after meandering around the bar and giving orders and instructions to those who needed, he met Adara at the from door and then scratched his chin. "Bikes or car?"

Lithe fingers scanned the shelves and organized the bottles and glassware by type and size, from largest to smallest, and those that were hexagonally shaped were placed edge to edge, and the handles aligned—just so ... well, you get the idea. A bit CDO, if you were to ask anyone—Dante was. And if you dared to correct CDO, he would inform you that the letters definitely aren't in alphabetical order. One of the many quirks of a demon and potential slacker/lunatic/bar owner. Sepia embers turned to the door as Adara peeked in and gave him grief. He shrugged and cracked a smile, "Well, this shit isn't going to annoyingly organize itself to perfection. Besides, I think it's funnier that when I do this, the staff feels they have to try replicating it or else I'll get mad, but I'm doing it just so they feel that hinged obligation of imperfect frustration and avoidance of der... dis... fuck. Disappointment?" "And I was on such a 'smart' roll ... and lost it." Was there a mention of the favorite demon having a fit of ADD as well? Of course not. "Loot, you say?" And just like that; Dante liked to refer to it as his 'sleight of topic'. Really, it was a fancy way of saying that his gangbangtrain-of-thought just derailed into an unidentifiable wet spot on a fatty. "I could definitely use an outlet. Using my powers in the bar only seems like a fun parlor trick for alcoholics... and besides, why do you get all the fun, Muscles?" He took note of the cracked skin on her knuckles that looked painful and caked with blood. Probably not hers. Probably someone else's. Maybe a shared interest. And then his face lit up like a Christmas tree: eyebrows raised, eyes wide, and mouth in that puckered butthole-surprised form and he raised his hand. "We should TOTALLY do that, AND someone was telling me about some desert in the east and a guy ... with a name I can't pronounce or remember right now, who makes crazy cool shit. Great gear, apparently. He lives near the desert, or in it, or something ... AND he's good with weaponry. Heat and weapons. That's you, ... right?"

"I shit you not... I was standing there with this huge, fuckin' bone-thingy was all 'raaaaawwwwrrrrr—" Dante Craven's hands arose to his chest like a stubby-armed beasty and then lurched out at the three people sitting at the end of the bar with long, lanky arms and two fingers that aimed to represent claws and wiggled them fiercely. They laughed hoarsely—obviously drunk. "And I punched a portal through it, grabbed some fire, and KABOOM! Obviously not fireproof..." His charisma knew no bounds. In mid-story, he'd literally punched forward, and a plumb hued portal appeared and his entire forearm vanished only to return with a very skilled pull of three handles of beer, which spread before him and he nodded. "Enjoy, gents." He and Adara needed cash flow for their research and expeditions, and what better way than a bar, right? Of course, it still didn't have a name, and after three weeks it should. He was informed of this daily by new patronage who were excited for stories of crazy adventures and good atmosphere. He pushed past a few of their hired help, who ran the show while they were out and slipped into the back room to straighten up the stock room.