My Archives: December 2004
Monday, December 6, 2004
10 hours prior to the Incident at the Wonderland Casino...
The false-sun lamps shined dimly in the hallway, creating a warm glow against the striking hardwood and gold furnishings. The tap of a woman’s high heeled boot as she walked quickly was swallowed by the walls, the echo nearly non existent in the beautiful, yet sterile hall. The azure stained glass changed a grey sky into a blue one, spilling it’s false light upon the false beauty of the room. It was a horrible place really, covered up to try and hide it. But all the gilded chairs and burgundy fabric couldn’t do that. If you were in there, you knew exactly why. And if you weren’t part of the Agency, it was a good thing everything was so damn beautiful, because it was probably going to be the last thing you saw.
The winding, escalator like staircases, only nearly four times wider than those used in normal homes, led up to the penthouse of the headquarters. Generally, one would have to go though massive security checks to get into that sort of area, but the guards here knew better than to check her. If she was up to any funny business, then it was far too late for them to do anything about it. Besides, if Adrienne couldn’t protect herself against her own minions, then she wasn’t a very good leader then, was she? But of course, when one has that much power, one doesn’t need to be able to protect themselves. That’s what rest of the Agency was for. Even her, though she hated to admit it.
A dark sheet of clouds moved over the already dismal sky, making the skylight, decorated with pixies and cupids and other things that would soar through a more beautiful sky, dark and sinister, making the room even more horrible than it already was.
This was all a sort of unbiased point of view, of course. To the woman, the room truly was beautiful. You just had to stop looking deeper than you needed to, and enjoy the face value of what you were given. This is what she had learned early in life, and found it to be a fairly ingenious way to live her own. It was the way most people in Paris now lived, for the city was so ruined and decadent that if you truly looked at it, truly saw what it was under the glamour and sex, that you wouldn’t be able to stand it. It would drive you insane. The mere fact that the Agency, such a dirty group, took office in the Eiffel Tower was enough to make one cringe. But my, how Adrienne had made the tower look. It was a sight in its rainbows of colors. So the citizens didn’t seem to mind anymore.
The city of Paris was dull this time of year. Well, it was dull all year, really, with the heavy clouds and always cool temperatures. The city itself was beautiful, though. Over the years, the citizens had grown fond to using lavish decorations not only on the inside, but on the outside of their houses as well. This lead to the town looking like one big Christmas present, except the only thing it held was coal.
At the end of the darkened hallway, two giant doors, plated with silver and gold and leading into Adrienne’s office and living quarters, lay closed yet unlocked; a sign that Adrienne had guests. What kind of guests, well, that was always different. Adrienne conducted both work and play in her home, which the woman always thought to be so risky. But that’s just how Adrienne was, and always had been. Risky.
She walked up to the doors, and stood for a moment, straining to hear what was going inside. It was well known around the Agency that Adrienne favored the company of both men and women, and favored it often. She had never witnessed such an encounter, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t happen. She didn’t feel like walking in on something like that, if it in fact did happen as often as it was rumored to. She just didn’t need that right now.
The woman bit her lip, then released it as she pushed the door open. She walked in, her head held high, her stride graceful yet dangerous. Whenever she walked in to a crowded room, she wanted everyone in there to know that, if she wanted to, she could kill them, regardless of who they are. That sort of power trip was the kind of thing that got a woman like her off. She liked being in power, she liked having the upper hand. Therefore, she worked to maintain it at all costs.
However, the crowd she was entertaining wasn’t the kind that needed what she was giving them. A crowd of manicurists and pedicurists hovered around all 20 digits of Adrienne’s hands and feet, while a dressmaker attempted to measure the sitting woman, most likely for another gorgeous dress she would wear only once or not at all. Adrienne herself was yelling in Italian on her small earpiece phone, but what the conversation was about eluded the woman. She knew Italian, but not well enough to keep up with Adrienne’s feverish ranting.
Adrienne, as well as being extravagant and rich, was also very bored. So like most bored people, she surrounded herself with things to do. When she bored of things, she got rid of them as easily as she got rid of her dresses. The woman, however, was still around, so apparently Adrienne simply hadn’t bored of her yet. Perhaps that is why she always put on that stern face, that dangerous walk. Maybe it wasn’t for the rest of the people around (for they knew of her nature, of her wickedness). Maybe it was for Adrienne.
The woman walked over to the mass of people, so thick one could barely see Adrienne. As she approached, one of the workers looked around, and in seeing her, quickly moved away from Adrienne. This prompted the other workers to look around as well and, just like every time, they all stopped what they were doing and quietly waited in the wings, waiting for Adrienne’s order: Leave or stay.
Adrienne continued to talk into her phone, her eyes lidded and her lips pursed. Noticing her lack of pampering, however, she looked up slowly, and in seeing the woman, her eyes brightened slightly. She touched her finger to her ear and turned off her phone, removing it from her ear and sitting it on the table in front of her. She sighed deeply. “Mika.”
The woman paused, unsure of how to reply. She settled with the simplest. “Adrienne.”
Adrienne made a casual gesture to her minions in the room, and they all quickly bowed and scurried out without a word. The only one who didn’t was the dressmaker, who walked over to her and started speaking to Adrienne in hurried French, though her accent was French Canadian. Adrienne replied simply, telling her to stop bothering her now. She politely asked her to leave, and the dressmaker, knowing not to push her luck, politely nodded her head and scurried out of the room like the rest of the servants.
“Mika, it is good to see you,” Adrienne said, smiling. Her accent was thick and Parisian; Mika never knew why Adrienne spoke in English to her. Mika was fluent in seven languages, French being one of them. Adrienne had no reason to not speak to her in French. Of course, she did sometimes, but she would usually start out in English. Her English was flawless, really, but her accent was thick. Mika remembered vaguely once telling Adrienne she preferred English, but really, why did that even matter?
“It’s good to see you too, Adrienne,” Mika said, her voice neutral and unemotional. She walked over to Adrienne, who motioned for her to sit by her on her sofa. Mika sat down slowly, then placed what she had been holding in her hands down on the glass table in front of them.
“What is this, Mika? Why does everything always have to be business?” Adrienne said, her voice barely above a whisper. She mumbled something in French, but Mika couldn’t hear her, so she decided to ignore it.
“Adrienne, these are the papers on Dante Lamoroch -”
“I think we can just call him Dante now. We both know well who he is by first name alone.”
“...Dante.” Mika corrected herself. It was well known to the both of them now that Dante had been with them both, though “relationship” probably would have been too strong a word. It was basically a short time of idiocy on both of their parts, ending with tension, a manhunt, and a thirteen million dollar deficit in the Agency’s funds, all courtesy of Mr. Lamoroch himself. There wasn’t a person in the Agency who didn’t know the name Dante Lamoroch.
“Well, what do we have on him?” Adrienne asked, staring down at the documents but not really reading them; she expected a summary from Mika.
Mika cleared her throat. “Well, we’ve tracked him from Italy, where he returned shortly after his little visit in Paris. There, he managed to cause a 6 car collision while escaping from an agent we sent after him. After escaping from that mess, our operative managed to catch up with him, but Dante managed to kill him before he could report his exact whereabouts.”
Mika looked over at Adrienne, who was still staring at the papers, but was obviously not listening to anything she was saying. “Adrienne, please.”
Adrienne looked over at her sharply. “Don’t tell me what to do, Mika. Regardless of anything, you do not speak to me that way.”
“I know you still love him, Adrienne.”
“I do not love him, Mika. But I do not hate him. I admire him for his accomplishments as much as they anger me,” she shook her head and looked away. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm when saying things such as those. I know that you loved him more than I ever did.”
“This is not the time for this, Adrienne. I’m sorry I said anything.” Mika replied, her voice flat. She hated admitting what she had felt for Dante; it humiliated her.
Adrienne nodded, looking over at Mika and staring into her eyes. Adrienne always told Mika that she had very emotionless eyes, but that she knew what lie behind them. Mika hated when she said that, because she knew it to be true. She hated having someone know so much about her.
Mika paused and looked away, then continued with her report. “Well, after Italy, Dante moved on to London, where he has been in four car accidents, and three nearly botched money deliveries he always manages so save. All of which were direct results of the Agency’s involvement, although the authorities were none the wiser. To them, it was only Dante. As for other things he’s done, I‘m sure they exist, but were apparently too trivial to put in the report. I just refuse to believe this is all he’s been up to.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Adrienne said. Mika was unsure why she had said it, for she knew just as well that the Agency was practically invisible and no agent had ever admitted any allegiance to it. It was the perfect business, really. So visible yet so invisible.
“Adrienne, what are we doing now, then?”
“Well, we are going after him. We have to kill him. In the Wonderland, tomorrow.” Adrienne replied, her voice strained.
“You know you don’t really mean that,” Adrienne replied, not as a statement of surprise but as a fact. She knew Adrienne didn’t have the heart - at least not yet - to kill Dante Lamoroch.
Adrienne looked back over at Mika, with an emotion in her eyes that wasn’t often there. Suddenly, Adrienne relaxed her shoulders and laid down across the sofa, her head in Mika’s lap, as if exhausted. Mika’s response was neither surprise nor contempt, but merely of almost parental affection, as she gently stroked Adrienne’s hair.
Adrienne sighed softly, and wrapped an arm loosely around Mika’s legs. “I know that.”
-----
“Listen, Adrienne, if its money you want…”
Adrienne rolled her eyes and sighed, the echo loud against the marble walls. The soft splash of water was apparent to her, but was hopefully not transmitted. It just seemed too unprofessional.
“Se taire, Dante...” Adrienne said, her voice cool and collected. She didn’t have time for his little bribes.
“...What, Adrienne?” he replied, his voice laced with false confidence.
Adrienne answered, “I hope it is your lucky night...” she paused now, unsure of her next move. “...Don’t die. Au revoir”
She hung up the phone quickly, wondering why she had added on the last part. Well, in her heart she knew; she did not want him to die. But she knew that he wouldn’t, he was too clever to let the lumbering fools she sent after him this time catch him. She felt as if she was playing more of a game than a true manhunt. But perhaps that’s how she wanted it.
Adrienne slid a little further down in the bathtub, her lover for tonight sitting silently between her legs, back facing her. Adrienne felt a shudder against her legs from her companion, prompting her to reach over and turn on the heater. The water quickly heated back to what it was originally, and the bubbles seemed to find new life, growing and surrounding the two.
Adrienne ran her hands down her companion’s back, the faint scars and brilliant tattoos mixing together, both beautiful and horrid, against a canvas of sleek muscle and tan skin. She slid closer and pressed her chest against said back, the other occupant both surprised and happy at the same time. “I love you, you know.” Adrienne murmured into her partner’s ear.
“No you don’t.” her lover replied, the voice not at all upset, simply accepting.
“That isn’t true. I do love you.”
“You say that to anyone you wish to bed, Adrienne. I’m not any different than the rest.”
“Oh, but you are.” Adrienne said, resting her chin on her mate’s shoulder. She gently kissed her companion’s neck, the skin moistened and warmed from the water, giving slightly as her lips pushed against it. She smelled the faintest traces of fragrance, and whether it was from earlier or from the oils in the tub, either way it excited her.
Her lover gave into her caresses, sliding a hand up and down Adrienne’s leg, the soap forming a thin lather. This prompted Adrienne to run her hands down her companion’s shoulders and across the flat, muscled stomach, tracing a set of Roman numeral tattoos under the navel, her fingers sliding across them. Her companion shuddered once more, though from cold most likely not, uttering a phrase in a language that Adrienne did not understand, but the tone of voice told the story better than the words anyways.
Adrienne paused, then began kissing her lover’s neck, working her way across the chin and eventually to the lips; such sweet, soft lips, giving to her kiss yet kissing back; powerful, gentle, fierce, loving.
“I love you.” Adrienne repeated, her lips only inches from her lover’s, who’s neck was craning and twisting back towards Adrienne, seeking her lips once more. “I must ask that you believe me.”
“…I know very well that you take many to your bed every week. I am not special, nor loved.”
“You can’t believe everything you hear. People will do anything to destroy happiness.” Adrienne replied, neither denying nor confirming anything, for in her mind, it had little significance whether it was true or not. “But what you can believe is that I do love you.”
“You do not. Perhaps what I am; a body, a plaything, something to use… But when you bore of me, you will find yourself discontent and you will find something else. You know I‘m right.” her companion said, the voice laced with anger and, perhaps, disappointment.
Adrienne, seeing this, relented to her companion, letting another kiss pass before again parting, staring into her eyes. “Whose eyes do I look into now?”
“Mine.”
“And what do you see in them?”
Her lover paused, staring into Adrienne’s liquid eyes. She began to speak once, but stopped, before finally uttering only a single word. “Love.”
“Then it is Mika that I love.”
Mika’s eyes watered slightly, the closest she usually ever got to tears, and she turned around, kissing Adrienne with such a force that she slid her to the back of the tub, Adrienne’s back pressing against the beautiful marble, her pale chest pressed against her beautiful lover.
And for now, at least, Adrienne was content.
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