Closed RP Law of Gravity

This RP is currently closed.


Field work was supposed to be something you paid others to do.

Usually Saturn would be content to let things lay, but her hand had been forced. Cain, sweet, emotional little pup he was. He liked to pretend he was above it all, the silent and dedicated hunter. Saturn knew better, he was a child, still trying to get daddy's approval and making a pass at every comely man who would entertain what passed for southern charm from Cain. Saturn hadn't been surprised in the slightest when Titan had reported that Cain had likely begun a physical relationship with Obsidian. She would have been shocked if he hadn't.

It wasn't the first time, Saturn banked on what she knew to be the constant in Cain's behaviour; the closer he got to Obsidian the more manic and distressed. And like the coward he was he would come crawling back to the familiar, to Saturn, and she would catechize him and shame him but he'd do his job and be assured that at the very least he was useful to someone.

It was a practiced pattern. A leash to restrain a dog. Saturn held many leashes. She collected strays. Titan was in heavy debt and made enemies in the Cuban government. Hyperion had been caught selling state secrets to the highest bitter. Tethys had killed a commanding officer while deployed to Iraq. Cain had been the easiest, he'd been so desperate to belong he'd let himself be owned by anyone. Secrets, shame, desire, money, greed, lust, love. These were tools, tools to absorb and acquire.

In the end Saturn would devour them all.

In was the one thing that brought her sensation. The whole world was numb to her touch, her body absorbing half of anything, nothing felt quite as much as it should feel. Smoking, drinking, sex, drugs, these were temporary pleasures that could briefly feed her needs, but ownership, that was true sustenance. That was the only reason Saturn had hired an armored car and a small security detail to accompany her into Pittsburgh. Saturn had considered looking into why this place attracted so many metas, it certainly wasn't for the scenery.

Here there was an asset she was interested in acquiring. Cain's leash remained taunt, for now, but it did well to diversify one's investments. That's why Saturn had spent a fair amount of money and resources tracking down one Flora Foster. Not only could she be a valuable asset, but she would be childsplay to collect. Saturn had the driver pull into a secluded corner so she could walk to the rather despicable bar that she knew Flora would frequent.

Her costume was calculated, and always changing. For Cain she'd worn a business suit, for Titan a low cut strapless red dress that had him at her mercy in seconds. For Flora neither professional nor seductive would be needed, so she wore a simple black blouse, leather jacket, jeans, and boots. She looked like a woman out on the town, except for the tattoo that snakes up her neck - Greek patterns ending in the solar symbol for Saturn - and her fistful of rings that donned each finger. Even without trying she turned a few heads when she entered the bar, but Saturn ignored them and walked straight to the bar and sat on the stool right next to Flora. She ordered an old fashioned.
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Flora wasn't a heavy drinker, certainly not in her condition, but every once in a while it was nice to take a break and enjoy a beer. She had finished a nasty job yesterday night, killing a competitor to a rising drug kingpin. Whatever, money was money.

When she wasn't wearing the black mask, she was a fairly average-looking woman, save for the sickly thin, gaunt form she had developed from the chemo. Her hair was brown, cropped close to her jaw and with blunt bangs. Her eyes were tired grey. There was nothing particularly unique or interesting about her, or her attire- plain jeans and a loose t-shirt.

So why had a rich, well put together lady purposefully sit next to her? Anyone desiring to hire Flora for her abilities knew how to use the proper channels. No one knew her face anyway.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

Flora took another long sip of her beer.
"Flora Foster" Saturn said, her voice was smooth, a purr, yet had just a slight scratchiness to it. "Twenty-Six Years old, thought who knows how much longer you'll live, not without some serious medical attention. Help that's rare, expensive, and beyond your reach. No, Miss Foster, you cannot help me, but you can hear my offer and perhaps you can glean some benefit from it."
Flora tensed. Anyone staring a conversation with her full name could be a particular sort of stupid customer. It wasn’t the first time someone had dug a bit and found out who she was. She’d killed them of course.

But someone who brought up her full name, age and diagnosis was a different sort of threat all together. Even if they did have a proposition.

Flora downed her drink, and set the glass down hard on the counter. She’d play this safe for now, and learn. If she was good at anything it was observation, “Such as?”
Saturn pulled down her sunglasses just enough to glance at Flora, it was a dismissive yet appraising look. Like she was considering buying a fruit at the grocery store and wondering how ripe it was.

"I represent a private military company who specialize in utilizing and neutralizing metahumans, your particular set of skills would be an asset to us. In exchange we can provide you with good pay and resources to better handle your abilities as well as treat the less than favourable affects. I surmise that the two bit contracts you've shilled yourself out for haven't paid you as much as you need, you sign an exclusive contract with me and that changes."
Flora stared back at the woman. A privatized military company? That only spelled trouble, especially if they were looking into metas, and their powers. The woman clearly newhow to make a good sell as well. Reminding Flora of the irregularity of her work, her cancer, and offering treatments so that she might live a little longer. But she laid out her hand, and Flora wasn't above showing her cards either.

"You must be a desperate sort of company, trying to recruit a dying woman." Flora said. She could give a shit less about this womans proposition. "And I don't like being tied down. Now, can I be left to enjoy my last days in peace?"
Saturn rapped her rings on the counter.

"Desperate? No, opportunistic I prefer, a dying woman has very little to lose and can be counted on to perform dangerous tasks," Saturn leered. "At least most dying women have nothing to lose, Cecil, that's his name, right?"

That singular name made Saturn more of a danger, more of a threat, than the damned Pheonix and Cryptid put together. Such threats needed to be put down, with prejudice. Without hesitation. This bitch would not survive threatening her child.

Flora reacted on instinct, instincts honed by her unsavory work. She moved faster than she had any right to for a dying woman, and grabbed Saturns collar and the world turned and vanished around them, a naurseating sensation, until both women were standing in an alley behind the bar.

Flora thrust her hand out, altering her atomic structure until it sank through the womans chest.
Saturn saw it comming, it was a common enough reaction. She allowed Flora to grab her and held on as they teleported. It wasn't much, but she felt the flurry of movement sink into her skin, filling her muscles with energy. Just enough so when they landed Saturn moved fast and slammed her palm down onto Flora's arm hard enough to sprain her elbow. She followed up with a knee into her stomach and shoving her roughly away. Saturn calmly removed her sunglasses.

"Listen hon, I will will make this clear, assuming you could beat me; if I don't walk out of here with you bound by contract to me, then little Cecil will die knowing his mamma was at fault," Saturn said coldly. "So precious our children, so vulnerable, I'm offering you a good deal, do the smart thing."