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The city of New York was many things to many people; a place of business, of entertainment, a financial capital and tyrannical regulator, some even called it home. Regardless of how one chose to see it though the overarching trend was that people wanted it, but in a city that already had nearly 30k people for every square mile, space was at a premium as it simply could not keep up with demand.

In light of this it was not hard to grasp that the ability to create one’s own space, an area under their sole control, had untold value both financially and otherwise. The only difficulty then came in leveraging that potential into something substantive whilst retaining control, because if there was one force as constant as gravity it was human greed.

"Alright, I give up. Why am I playing Bob the Builder?"

Well, greed and sloth.

"Isn't reinforcing buildings enough? What's the point of trying to make them from scratch?"

Interestingly enough despite the shapely soubrettes habitual incivility her words lacked any their usual bite, almost as if the girl was simply operating on automatic. Admittedly it could just be the fact that it was six in the morning but the hessian liked to think that the girl was actually starting to come around. Granted the country was more likely to return to the gold standard first but if one never expected better then things wouldn’t change.

Tucking a small bundle under one arm the elemental joined Isabel outside. Construction sites were a dime a dozen even years on from the riots and it wasn’t hard to find any number that were essentially abandoned at this time of day. “The point Isabel, is to see if you can, and if you can’t well...”

A slight smirk tugged at the hessians features as he gave a far too innocent shrug and glanced meaningfully at the dark clouds above as thunder echoed. ”I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Shall we start with a shed?”

People will always watch a spectacle.

It was one of the fundamental truths of universe in much the same way that airports can never be pleasant and bureaucracies are incapable of efficiency.

Still despite their somewhat depressing nature there was a certain satisfaction that could be taken in their predictability; in turning even the most tedious of irritants to one’s advantage.

After all, fading into the background comes far more easily when the audience is absorbed in a suitably distracting display of spectacle, and in this day and age what better example was there than a certain outspoken, toupee touting, multi-billionaire presidential candidate?

As he strode towards the back of the crowded press conference and the rapidly diminishing empty chairs that remained, Simon found that he couldn’t help but appreciate the irony of a serious political conversation taking place within the same room as Donald Trump and the mainstream media.

Skirting passed the thinning ranks of journalists, camera technicians and run of the mill security the elemental eventually claimed a seat beside an all too familiar blonde. “Good morning Miss Faust.”

Leaning against one of the many slipshod stacks of crates within the decrepit warehouse Zephyr pondered his current situation. What had started as a relatively simple search and destroy objective for a double crossing contact had, as usual, become decidedly less simply the moment life, the universe and everything chose to intervene.

Now he had to deal with two irrelevant and frankly idiotic individuals who’d stumbled across his handiwork and, like suicidal lemmings, had decided to investigate rather than taking the smart option of retreating. To make it even better one, if not both them, were mutants showcasing something that wasn’t quite mind control over animals since the warehouse hadn’t yet been flooded with rats.

And to top it all off, someone was apparently spreading annoyingly accurate rumours about his latest protégé which meant he now had to contend with a security leak and that meant an interrogation at the very least.

Maybe he should have brought Duskmoor after all, if nothing else all the rain would have made her a wonderful distraction.

Still those were thoughts for another time, for now he needed to drag Artur crippled frame somewhere more secure for questioning, a roof would be perfect, even in this weather but right now the hessian would settle for a storage closet if it meant a lack of interruptions.

Almost on cue a new shaft of dim light cut through the shadows as the personnel door to the side of the loading bay slowly swung inwards letting in rain and a less than calm and oddly hollow female voice. The police have been called. I would leave, if I were you.”

Raising his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose Zephyr let out an irritated sigh as he bit down the urge to respond and point out the fact that leaving, while an absolutely capital idea, was somewhat hindered when certain suicidal individuals insisted on following you. No, even with his… unconventional brand of ventriloquism, keeping silent was the better option. Instead, the elemental took a slow breath and again relied on his sense to paint the scene for him

‘Less than a foot beyond the open door, partially sheltered from the disturbance of the downpour by a slight overhang, the wind flowed across a female outline, back resting against the outer wall.’

Well the woman had at least half a brain if she wasn’t poking her head inside and giving him an excuse to shoot her. If she was going to wait and be suitably cautious he might actually have enough time to drag Artur-

‘Two canine forms sprinted in from beyond the alley, their racing limbs tossing spray into the air to mark their passage, stopping only when they reached the female figure standing just beside the open door, strangely hollow snarls emanating from their maws and echoing-‘

Frowning Zephyr, lifted his pistol into a ready position, subtlety was apparently not on the menu today. Still, something nagged at him, the way these things were growling wasn’t natural, something their size should have had a deeper timbre yet the noise they made was oddly empty, like one of those toy whistles a child used to do a poor imitation of a bear or a lion, almost as if…

‘Seeking out the source of the unnatural snarling, filtering out the effects of the wind and tracing them from the jaws down into the-‘

Well, well, well… that was quite a trick; it wasn’t everyday you found a creature that could growl without breathing, though the fact that they were lacking anything resembling lungs likely helped a good deal. Whatever these things were, ‘alive’ wasn’t one of them which, in retrospect, made the elementals next course of action all too easy.

The moment one of the Frankenstein creation stuck a misshapen head round the corner, he fired.

Trapped within his osseous cell Zephyr reflected on what he knew of the girl who'd imprisoned him as he waited for her response. In all the time he'd worked with Duskmoor there had been ample opportunities to test various means of 'handling' her all of which had met with varying degrees of success.

Simple brib compensation, the most common means of collaboration between parties, was useless where the soubrete was concerned. It wasn't that she was rich, far from it actually, but she'd been raised on the charity of the Order which had seen to all her basic needs and anything that hadn't been given to her she'd simply taken from others. As a result she almost no value in legal tender aside from the occasional convenience it provided.

Violence, perhaps the second most common basis of business relationships, met with slightly more success but just wasn't feasible in the long term. The gamine was stubborn as a mule and even more spiteful and so beating her into submission often took longer than whatever task she was required to perform. That combined with the increase chance of simply breaking her, left violence as an option of last resort.

Threats tended to do little better than actual violence as the ingenue appeared to posses an almost reflexive urge to call him out on his actions, more often than not forcing him to follow through. Blackmail on the other hand had proven to be far more rewarding approach but was subject but was subject to diminishing returns as Duskmoor's anger would inevitably overcome whatever fear or humiliation she was threatened with. It had to be used sparingly which thus left the hessian with the final approach that had become his fallback.

Flirting, or more appropriately teasing, had become, if not a silver bullet, then at least a suitably shiny stick when it came to distracting the typically caustic brunette. Whether it was her lack of home life, the treatment in the camps or pure introversion, Isabel was literally a virgin in almost all maters of intimacy and her lack of familiarity left her vulnerable to less direct manipulation.

Still, all that had changed with the advent of the Geass he'd managed to place on the girl. The compulsion had already proved it's worth a number of times but it wasn't without risks; in much same way that machine could be ruined by imprecise commands, contradictory or careless orders could potentially break Duskmoors mind.

As a result the elemental had been forced to re-evaluate his approach with the gamine as the compulsion gradually grew in power, resorting back to threats to see what new leveraged he'd gained and-

THUD

All thought came to an abrupt halt as Zephyr felt something enter his personal space half a second before something fastened to his chin and abruptly jerked his head fully against the metal wall it had only been lightly leaning on before, a dull impact echoing in the confines of the cocoon even as the elementals body, rapidly dissolved into motes of air and surged through an electrical socket into the space between walls before emerging in a room not ten feet from the soubrettes his azure eyes narrowed in fierce concentration as he rubbed his jaw.

That shouldn't have happened. The hessian had made a record of every command he'd given the girl since the inception of the compulsion, and chief among them had been an order to never raise a hand against him, literally or otherwise and was to date the most absolute mandate he'd leveled at the soubrette.

And she'd just ignored it.

Frowning slightly Zephyr shook his head; he wasn't going to jump to conclusions based on nothing more than a light rap on the head. Ego aside, it hadn't even hurt, if anything it had been meant to chastise... huh.

Duskmoor had just given him a lovetap.

The thought was so patently absurd that the hessian almost had to chuckle, his shoulder's shaking briefly in suppressed humour as he tried to reconcile the idea even as he pondered his response before his lips twitched into a slow smirk. For all that he wasn't entirely comfortable with what the brunette had achieved her intent had been perfectly clear to whit; 'shut up'.

Clearly she needed a reminder that turnabout was fair play.

Reaching out towards Duskmoor slumped form the hessian concentrated on the air around the soubrettes head, carefully gathering it into his grasp without disturbing it before gradually moving deeper as he started to hum a faint tune that nonetheless made it's ways to the girls ears even as he raised a hand and began tracing letters in the air which were soon echoed in the metal surface of the wall in front of the girl.

'Anything you can do I can do better

And as the first line finished so did Zephyr's preparations; the air surrounding the gamines head surged inwards, past lips and between teeth the sudden wind forced it's way into Duskmoor's mouth and... stayed there, an invisible gag which trapped the tongue and removed any ability to shift her head.

...I can do anything better than you.'

---

OOC: Unedited, will edit later so let me know if you want anything changed.

As his foster nephew came to the defense of the so called 'future sight' Zephyr simply shrugged, "There will be outliers in any pattern, my point is that if you can't achieve results consistently on a micro scale then it shouldn't be relied upon for such."

Macro scale events, on the other hand, were an entirely different matter and one the hessian fully intended to abuse if he ever got the chance. Still that was a matter for another time, if Jude's gradual agitation was any indication the boy was growing restless.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. The boy had shown surprising ambivalence towards traditional morals thus far, and while it was refreshing there was no way to tell how much of it was sheer bluster rather an honest outlook.

The true source of the elementals hesitation though was his lack leverage. His nephew had no obvious desire for wealth, no clear sign of ambition (be it for power or other pursuits), and no family contacts that could be exploited more than they already had been.

In truth Jude appeared to want nothing more than the freedom to live his life as he saw fit; a goal that Simon could honestly relate to, unfortunately it wasn't something that was in the elementals power to give, or at least, not easily.

Still, nothing ventured nothing gained. He'd test the waters and if Jude proved amenable they'd proceed from there.


"Assume there is a meeting taking place one week from now, for arguments sake let us also assume it's a meeting of drug runners and the police, due to corruption and bribery, cannot be notified."

"That being said if one of the attendees could be delayed, without overt evidence of foul play, it would put significant strain on their business relationship. How would you go about achieving such a result?"

Staring down at the kneeling Russian with a building sense of irritation Zephyr considered his options. Artur couldn't possibly believe he'd leave alive, not when he was surrounded by the still cooling corpses of his former henchmen; the man was arrogant not delusional.

Annoyingly that same arrogance leant Artur an unfounded sense of pride and so the Mafiaso was determine to spite his killer in whatever way he could, even if it meant keeping his mouth shut for a change.

Quietly weighing his options Zephyr let the hood of his raincoat shadow his features as he crouched and met the Russians green eyed glare without flinching. The elemental wanted answers yes, but he didn’t need them.

“You know how I work Arthur.” The words were unhurried, crisp and clear despite the downpour and they betrayed none of the unease the hessian felt with the weather. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way…” deliberately trailing off to let his words sink in, Zephyr calmly reached into his coat and withdrew a slim black pistol, leveling the barrel an inch from the mobsters shaved skull.

“Tell me what caused this sudden insanity and you won’t feel a thing. I’ll consider this the end of the matter and I’ll leave the rest of your faction alone.” Not entirely true but close enough; there wasn’t enough left of NYC mafia these days for it to be worth his time to hunt them all down.

“If you don’t talk I’ll leave you on a roof somewhere with a gut wound; it will take you hours to die and I’ll make sure you can’t call for help."

So what will it be?