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| − | It's really a wonder how they rose from being completely unaware of that which lay outside of their sequestered home to having in their (well, in Tianyu's) grasp the sort of control and power that many men dream of. It all began with a meeting with a man in need of some assistance, and now... well. Rising far and fast has its drawbacks, however. Especially when there's already an established crime ring that the authorities are used to, and may even be chummy with. An upstart like what Tian heads... well, they're not very welcome things. The 'stability' of matters quickly crumbled, and it became obvious to anyone in the know that something had to give.
| + | #REDIRECT [[DarkheartOne/IdeaDump]] |
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| − | Days, weeks of underhanded manuevering, quiet deal-making and veiled threats have lead to this day; a meeting in neutral territory to settle matters in the smoothest way possible. Hopefully not the 'smooth entry of steel into flesh' way. The locale is an abandoned section of the fish market; the time, shortly after sunset, lanters casting a soft glow on the meeting-place street.
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| − | There is a table in the middle of the dirt road. Sitting at one end is a man in white silks, picking his teeth with a mother-of-pearl-handled dagger. The insignia of the Salt and Stone Syndicate. Behind him, a fair number of thugs. At ease, but their weapons are closeby.
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| − | The rustle of cloth over hard-packed dirt announces the arrival of the Dragon Cartel's leader, a man shrouded in mystery, only seen by his inner circle. He's dressed simply, in hand-woven garments of dark grey linen covered by a coarse brown overcloak, hood thrown over his head. Tian's cloak is huge, made for someone with some growing left, and the sleeves hang an inch past his fingertips. Flanking him are his sisters, two special ladies.
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| − | Stone Syndicate's front-man leans forward a little, running his blade along the table a little before he rises, at least attempting some kind of courtesy. "Heh. Don't tell me that's all the muscle you brought." He pays some attention to the muscle, as both ladies stride alongside their charge with a sort of posture that isn't quite confidence, nor bravado.
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| − | Tian pauses for a few seconds in front of his chair, just watching the man for the brief moment before he sits down, deftly arranging the cloak around the seat. "Only because they insisted." His voice is neutral, not entirely developed but also even in tone.
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| − | The two stand at his side, stone-faced, while the fellow at the other end of the table... chuckles. "Well. If that isn't just something. Either you're a patsy, or we've been completely mistaken about you." He sits back down, carving idly at the table. "I could care less what your name is, but I'm sure you've heard mine. What does this little island call me, boys?" As one, they roar, 'The Addiction!', obviously trained to do that on cue. "That's what I am. That's because they *need* me. They need Papa Pearl."
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| − | Tian smiles faintly underneath his hood; the expression inexplicably carries through the darkness, a chilling amusement. "For now. After all.." He slowly rests one forearm over the other on his lap, movements calculated and precise. "..things change."
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| − | Papa Pearl looks somewhat unimpressed, but the men behind him do start trading looks amongst each other. After a moment of rubbing his chin, he leans back in his chair, silks fluttering a bit as a gentle breeze blows in from the sea. "Indeed they do. Which is why you're here. I'm not going to beat around the bush, boy. You have two choices." He lazily waves his knife to and fro. "One... you give up the little game and fall in with Salt and Stone. That'll make everyone happy. Two... you keep this up, and I'm left with no choice but to string you and your pretties up by your guts on the wharf." He shrugs. "You're bright. Make the right choice."
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| − | Tian just watches Papa Pearl for a long moment, still exuding that chilly aura. "My counter-proposal is simple. You leave this island, forever, along with the rest of your syndicate's upper management.. and I'll consider leaving you alive." He cants his head to the side a bit, hood rustling. "One way or another, my island will be run efficiently."
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| − | Papa Pearl chortles softly once... twice... then shakes his head. "Gods below, boy. You're like a damned siaka. No heart, just teeth... I actually kinda like you. It really is a pity you chose the wrong day to be a hood." He rises fully, back cracking, and his cadre of thugs goes about arming themselves with... nervous grunts. This prompts Tian's twin protectors to tense, but do nothing more.
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| − | Tian stands as well, holding up one gloved hand to keep his sisters back. Lowering his hand, the young man sweeps his hooded gaze across the row of muscle, eyes glinting from behind the seemingly endless darkness. "Your sun has set, Pearl. The night belongs to the Dragon, now." He adjusts his cloak and shakes out his sleeves, unconcerned with the thugs or the dagger-wielding man in front of him.
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| − | Papa Pearl narrows his eyes, and manages to move enough into the light to show off that, even though he is indeed a man in his middle years with a gut from fine living, the remainder of the man under the silk is quite sculpted. "Well, you were warned." His arm snakes up, and the dagger is suddenly flying at Tian's throat, while he produces a second between the fingers of his left hand. His thugs wait, almost unwilling to engage Tian.
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| − | Tian just stands there, not even breathing. The knife.. disappears in midair, as the sea carries a strong wind across the road, sending the long cloak a-flutter. "So were you." The darkness beneath his hood suddenly ignites into brilliant, eye-searing incandescence. "And now you'll feel my teeth." His arm, several orders faster than Pearl's, blurs upward as the dagger goes flying back at his own throat in a silvery streak, trailing wisps of gold.
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| − | There is a terrifying moment of silence. The explosion of light does little more than illuminate the street almost to noonday brightness. What follows is the gleaming violet form of... it is not quite a river dragon. it is larger, stockier, with massive wings. solid legs, and two taloned arms, one mimicing Tian's throw while the anima-dragon roars in triumph, shattering the silence. As the sign of Night, the sign of the Wretched, burns on Tian's brow... as smoke streams from the massive anima-beast... the returned dagger does not embed itself in Pearl's neck so much as it punches through, taking a couple of vertebrae with it, and punches a hole in the chest of the thug behind him. Both men drop, mercifully killed in an instant.
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| − | The remainder cannot help but stare in mute horror. Even the twin protectors are taken aback, their usual look of stony calm shoved inward. Tian... Tian feels *alive* Moreso than he ever has in his life. And, for a few fleeting moments, he can feel the four-limbed embrace of... someone strong, something awesome. Its voice is a roaring whisper in his ears, the sound of an army speaking as one. "The Night is not always pure... but it watches what the Day cannot. Watch, Tianyu... watch my world. Act in my name. Be my Dagger." The presence is then gone.
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| − | Tian takes a deep breath as he absorbs the words, as his perceptions expand and his stance shifts. "Incredible.." He exhales the word, turning to face his sisters. "It's time to leave." Without even giving the frozen thugs a second glance, he strides down the way he came, his huge iconic dragon inches behind. The twins nod dumbly, almost as one, giving Tian an unusual amount of space.
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| − | Those aforementioned frozen thugs remain so... except for one, who works up the guts to suck down his fear, grip his sledgehammer tightly and barrel on ahead. He doesn't scream or anything; he's smarter than the average thug, but apparently not by much.
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| − | Tian grins wickedly, even before the idiot's decided to move. With a great flapping of cloth, he whirls around to take the sledgehammer's thick haft in one clenched fist, crushing the heavy wood as though it were paper. Wrenching the thug's off-hand around, he positions the splintered handle under the man's chin and drives it up through the back of his head with a single open-palm strike to the butt. This is accomplished in a span of seconds, and Tian continues on his way.
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| − | Without even time to cry out in pain, the thug simply collapses onto the table, knocking it over. Without much hesitation, the rest of the hired muscle scatters, and the streets are quiet again. The sea breeze is nice this time of night. It even manages to keep the smell of blood away from Tian and his two speechless accomplices.
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| − | Tian hums a light tune as he makes his way back to the sanctuary, the violet dragon already fading into a mirage-like apparition of smoke. He seems taller, bulkier, filling out that huge cloak a little better.
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| − | * Back to [[/RisingForce|Rising Force]]
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