"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy."
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
The twisting spiral which now characterized the Rhydin skyline wasn't very difficult to pinpoint. So, it really didn't take this Scathachian very long to show up at the door with a paper sack in her hand. The glass doors where more than heavily monitored, she was sure. Employees and security personnel were busy around the clock. And even if Batten Tower was vacated of all human company, D.I.A.N.A. was always manning the fort.
It was in fact D.I.A.N.A. whom Isuelt addressed little more than half a block away as she tapped the com device just inside of her leather vest. "Diana, it's Nails. Ranger in the vicinity of Batten Tower?"
Only a tidy few moments passed before that cool voice streamed through the device. "Affirmative. In the penthouse. I was not aware that you had an appointment, Nails."
"I don't." Clipped and curt as she pushed against the glass doors which stood proudly before the imposing high-countered desk which displayed the shield of Batten Industries.
"Good evening, Ms. DeRomiano," the professional, yet stern tone of the lovely desk attendant cooed.
Isuelt only arched a brow. It really never failed to amaze her, the amount of eyes and ears that Batten had to the ground at any one time nearly rivaled the gods. No matter, this woman was only doing her job, and she knew that there was no getting past those heavy doors, let alone all the way to the top three floors without playing the game and jumping through a few polite hoops. After all, who in the hell was she to brutishly blaze through here like she was knocking directly on his door" This wasn't just an ordinary citizen, and frankly that was the reason Isuelt was here.
"Ah...evening. I was told Mr. Batten was in?" She didn't see the need to say who had told her. Maybe she would leave that for later.
"Yes, ma'am but I'm afraid he isn't accepting visitors." Her smile was perfect, almost plastic. But it was rehearsed enough to not look off putting, but simply serene.
"Uh huh," something the Scathachian really didn't count on. She was so used to knocking on a front door and that would be that. And at that point, if she heard the person she sought scream out I'm not home! she got the gist. This, however, was different. This was practically a different world. The paper bag crinkled in her hand as she gripped up on the neck of the bottle beneath it.
The blonde - whose nameplate on the desk read simply 'Olivia' - kept the smile on her features as she spoke again. "I am very sorry, Ms. DeRomiano. However, if you would like, I would be happy to set you up with an appointm-" She broke off as the phone had her desk let out a musical, three-bell chime, and she held up a finger as she picked it up. "Yes, sir?" There was a pause as she listened, followed by, "Very sorry, sir. Mr. Pontius told me...very well, sir. I'll send her right up." Setting the phone down, she put her smile back on, gesturing to the right side of the lobby, where a hall led to the elevators. "It looks like you've been granted an audience, Ms. DeRomiano." There was a hint of humor in that cool, professional voice as she spoke. "You'll want the middle elevator...Diana will see to it that you get to the penthouse."
"Uh...thank you," she caught the tone of the woman's voice, and couldn't help but smirk at it herself. Was 'flattered' something that should be going through her mind just now" In any regards, she could ponder that on her way upstairs. Taking the middle elevator, the doors closed upon her. She really didn't like these things, but it wasn't her first trip in one. She decided to distract herself. A soft drawl to her voice, "You have something to do with this, Diana?" The Scathachian chuckled slightly, thinking better of the bagged bottle in her right hand. She inhaled as the elevator took off, leaving her stomach on the lobby floor. It would be wrong to break into a gift one was giving another, even to take the edge off. Right'
The sultry voice of the AI came back from hidden speakers as the elevator ascended. "I might have mentioned the scotch you're carrying." Within moments they were at the top, and the doors opened to let Isuelt out. "Mr. Batten is on the second floor, Nails. The stairs are out of the entryway and to the left." The entry hall was short enough that Isuelt could see the stairs easily - the penthouse level of Batten Tower looked like someone had taken a small mansion with a very open floor design and transplanted it to the top of the building.
The Scathachian chuckled at Diana. Who would have thought that she had a sense of humor" "Holy sh*t..." she breathed those words involuntarily as the doors opened and she took a few steps toward the stairs. She was deeply astonished by what was before her. It was like a palace to her eyes, fixtures, flooring and the supreme craftsmanship of the very walls beckoned a tonal sigh from the priestess. It occurred to her that she had never actually been in any of Batten's private residences. Batten Towers, yes. The medical facilities, yes. But his home" This was a first. As she took the stairs, she concentrated on holding the bottle in her hand. Couldn't have it slip from her gobsmacked hands, now could she" At the top of the staircase, she looked to her sides. She figured she'd start to the right. Those long legs carried her slowly, and she was very aware of the noise her leather made as she moved.
Good guess. She didn't have to go very far to find him, either - after perhaps ten feet the dividing wall ended, opening onto a room at least as large as any of the others in the house. Judging by the decor, it looked like it was a living area, and one whole wall was taken up by the view of the Temple District to the south. They were high enough that it was rather akin to what one might expect from a castle keep overlooking a king's territory. Like the rest of the penthouse, the room had an open and spacious feel to it enough that even the most chronic of claustrophobics would be comfortable in it. The Playboy himself was standing at a desk off to the side, and arrayed in front of him were a number of different screens, all showing what looked like a section of the Old Temple district in a very finely detailed, sharp grayscale that almost looked like a computer simulation.
Isuelt's lips were parted, though she attempted to reign in her wonder. Her dark eyes scanned the room slowly, taking it all in. The view beyond was like nothing she had ever seen. Even the Den of Scathach back on the Island of Shadow, the highest point on the island, was nowhere near the height that they were now. Without introduction, she simply slithered her candor to the Playboy, "How much f*cking money do you have?" Though there was a hint of bemusement in her voice, she still stood her ground, waiting to be formally invited in. Not all manners were lost on her, after all.
Batten chuckled as he watched the screens for a moment longer. "Sometimes, Ah t'ink Ah might have too much. Pont likes t'say dat Ah got 'nuff t'buy a few small countries, but Ah t'ink dat may be a li'l on de conservative side." He left the screens on as he turned away from them to Issy. "Well, don' just stand dere, c'mon in. What brings ya t'my humble abode, Issy?" That last part said with more than a trace of irony. The penthouse was anything but humble.
Her boot falls seemed to echo to her as she moved into the room. She canted her head to the side and smirked as she shrugged and planted the paper bagged bottle on the small marble-topped table next to him. The glass on marble produced a distinct sound, heralding the arrival of a gift worth giving...and unopened even! Espresso hair fumbled over her shoulder as she looked behind her and took up a nearby chair. She was without her weapons tonight, so no worrying about skewering a priceless antique chair or the like. Dark eyes trained back on Batten, "I think I owe you."
Fortunately, he didn't have any priceless antiques. Well, not furniture, anyway. What was the use of having a chair you couldn't be comfortable sitting in" He eyed the bag, then Issy with an arched eyebrow, looking mildly surprised. "Fer what, exactly?"
Her tongue ran along her teeth as her mouth pursed for a moment. She was obviously chewing on her words, "Look Ed, I'm not used to being on the sh*t list side of this city. And uh...even less so used to be shot at by someone that I really counted among my few friends." Her hands went up, "Now I know she was firing at you and all...and by the way, you've got a huge mouth. But standing in between you...I figured that would be that, you know" And Great Hera! Even damned Renna eventually came stand with me! I mean, how f*cking crazy is this" Me and Renna" On the same bloody side" What the hell is going on, you know" This city is even more crazy than usual." She shook her head as she trailed off and looked away from Batten. Contemplating for a moment, she then licked her lips, "Thanks for taking the heat for me. Don't think I don't appreciate that."
He shrugged at that, waving awa her thanks. He had to smirk at her statement about him shooting his mouth off, though. "Yeah, well. Dey were wrong, yanno' Stupid, really...ya don't get yer panties in a bunch wit' someone jus' 'cause dey have a diff'rent opinion dan you...s'like dey were blamin' ya - us - fer de acts o'people dat we had not'in' t'do wit'." He did reach out for the bag, though, and pulled the bottle out to look it over. "Dey're fightin' de wrong battle...hell, whet'er Ah t'ink de whole t'ing's a good idea or no, Ah ain't gonna jus' stand 'round an' let people come t'harm 'cause of it. And neit'er would you. Dey don' seem t'realize dat...s'like we were bein' accused of bein' no better'n dat horse's arse Rakeesh." At the mention of Renna, he looked up, the bottle only halfway out of the bag. "Yeah...dat was a li'l strange...but...well, Renna's Renna. She tryin' t'understand her's not gonna get ya anyt'ing but a headache."
"Well I know that. You know that. But like you said, trying to explain it to people is....ah, it's a waste of time mostly." She glanced to him and sighed at the mention of Renna. She had had an epiphany about the woman that night, and strangely, the taste of Renna's name on her tongue wasn't as bitter. "Do you know I got a letter from some kid that was in the Inn that night' Yelling at me about not doing my part for the people of this city' Saying I was 'mean'?" She shook her head and leaned back in the chair, stretching her legs out before her. "Pffft...yeah right! Like I enjoy bleeding for people who think I'm a pain in the arse." She watched Batten's progress with the bottle. It was minutely apparent that she had already tied a few on before she had come over.
He chuckled as he stood and took the bottle to the mini bar nearby, picking out a pair of glasses that looked to be made out of crystal. "Yer not de only one. So far Ah've gotten people writin' all sortsa t'ings t'me...t'ink one guy even t'reatened t'turn me into a lizard or some such t'ing." He chuckled. "Ah don' t'ink dat's gonna happen, hones'ly...t'ough mebbe if he did Ah'd get a real vacation." A few fingers of the scotch were poured into each glass, which he carried back to his seat, offering one out to Issy as he sat.
There was an upnod of her head for the glass offered. "And it's not as if we're ready to string up every birthday party magician. But just to talk about the pros and cons of a single issue, jeez. It's like these people are being asked to give up oxygen," she paused just then before her sip and looked to him. "Now I know you got banned from that lab of yours for what? Like a week" Why don't you just jet off somewhere for vacation?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "De lab is my play area...but it ain't de only place Ah do m'work. Got a whole comp'ny t'run, and...well...t'be honest, Ah trust my people, but...s'kinda like leavin' yer kid wit's someone an' takin' off fer a week. Ya can do it, but it ain't easy." The glass was lifted for a swallow, and he found the sampling to his liking. "Dis is perty good."
Despite herself, a low laugh started in her throat and made it out past her tongue. "I wouldn't know anything about kids. And thanks," she lifted the glass a touch. "Got some help with picking it out." "Anyway," she swallowed a mouthful and exhaled the heat carefully as she reclined back. Her dark eyes studied the glass; the cuts in the crystal were some of the most beautiful she could remember seeing. "I just wanted to formally thank you, out of the public eye, for sticking to your proverbial guns on this. Even though it's not the most popular opinion in town." She took another sip and still her gaze was focused on the glass once again, "And you know, it's not even that I really think this is the end all be all of every problem Rhydin has. Hell, I remember there was a time when I was the one causing problems in a city, rather than....It's just that I think this has merit. Maybe, I don't know...as a punishment' For someone committing a crime with magic or...." The warrior paused again, sensing her soapbox was too near. She wrinkled her nose to him for a moment and shook her head. "Sorry."
He let out a chuckle. There was an article in the GangSTAR a while back that said he and Issy might be an item, which he found amusing, at the least. Hadn't he heard somewhere she had a man' "Yeah, well, fer me it's easy. Ah'm perty well of de 'don' give a f*ck' mindset when it comes t'people and deir opinions of me pers'nally...a lot of folks have a harder time of takin' dat kinda heat." Being one of the richest men in town didn't hurt. "T'be honest...Ah don' know havin' de magically criminal bein' listed will help much...Ah mean, look at all de havoc Renna used t'wreak all over de place. An' ever'one knew dat she was magical..."
"This city's got so much wrong with it...there's no way that one thing is going to solve everything." Her shoulders rolled for a moment as her chin tipped up, chocolate eyes looking over the ceiling molding. "Wow..." A soft chuckle wrestled with an exhale and managed to be a hybrid of the two as she looked back to him, "I used to be like that. You know, not giving a sh*t." Beat. "I was probably a lot happier then."
He chuckled again, shrugging. "Well...Ah used t'be jus' de opposite, really. Always t'ought of what people useta t'ink." His features assumed a thoughtful expression. "Ah guess Ah still do, hones'y, on some small level...public image, an' all dat, s'far as runnin' a comp'ny goes...but dat's a bit diff'rent."
"Guess so," she mused for a moment on running a business, an empire. Introspectively, she nodded and thought about what Scorp went through to keep all of those proverbial plates spinning in the air at the same time back in Metro. But that was a little different. He was really defined as more of a crime boss, feeding the corrupt underbelly of the city and taking pleasure in the finer angles of crime. And Isuelt' She was one of his enforcers and one of his bedmates. In fact, as she thought back to the man she hadn't had much communication with in a few years, her lips curled and her nostrils lightly flared. She was going to need something stronger than the elegant single malt she had brought Batten as a gift. She wondered how many women Scorp had in his bed these days. "Doesn't really matter anyway." A blink as she was brought back to the present, hoping her words weren't as fractured as her thoughts.
He was nothing if not observant, and he thought he knew that look. It was the look of a woman contemplating a man. In some capacity, anyway. "So...if ya don' mind me askin', what changed" Dat made ya start carin', when b'fore ya didn't."
Those dark eyes, almost black in the ambient lighting of the penthouse, focused on Batten. Really focused. Isuelt did trust him. He'd won countless points by bailing her arse out of trouble and he wasn't afraid to take advice from her either. They were compatriots and she knew he could keep secrets. She took a moment before she answered. "I switched sides." Simply said, she awaited his response. She was curious how much she'd be sharing in the coming moments.
"Switched sides." The words were said thoughtfully, the usual Playboy persona he so often wore in public dropped for the moment. He'd often suspected there was more to Issy than a simple warrior woman, though he wasn't sure just what it was that lurked under that. He'd never really been on any other 'side' than the one he was on, though whether that was good or bad could be a subjective thing. "Why?"
"I wasn't always the hero I imagine myself to be," she nearly spat out the word 'hero.' "I...oh sure, I was trained as a Scathachian and went out into the world as a champion of justice to fight for the weak and downtrodden..." Her voice took on the over-dramatic tone of mimicry. "But as I delved more deeply into the outside world...I..." That far away look came over her once again. "I guess I was seduced by the shades of gray in the world. There was no black and white. No good and evil, pure and simple. It was all a big jumble of gray. I tried. I took what work I could. Being a Scathachian isn't exactly a marketable trade, if you haven't noticed." She shrugged as she continued, "I strayed from the path that was laid before me. I..." And here she seriously stalled. "I was an assassin." Those thick lashes shuttled her focus back to Batten. "Sword for hire. I tried to make sure that it was people who had it coming, you know" But again...that gray area sort of took over and I slipped. I failed. I was married and widowed in the span of about four years and then it just spiraled out of control from there." She could feel the self-inflicted scars on her body burning as the truth came pouring out. "I fell in with a group of folks who...who thought that the world was their oyster. And I wanted so much to believe that it was mine too." "I'm not exactly proud of how far I strayed from Scathach's mantle, and I know that I'm still paying for it. But, I deserve it. The punishment, I mean. The crimes I committed; murder, larceny, arson, drug running..." She quieted for a moment before she finished her glass, "I deserve every ounce of punishment coming to me."
He listened to all of this silently. He knew a bit about everyone around this town, but even so there were many other things he didn't know, simply because files didn't exist or he had no access to them. "Well...at least yer tryin' t'make up fer it. Lots wouldn't...dey'd eit'er be consumed by de life, or dey'd feel like dey had no ot'er choice, dat dere was no goin' back." A faint grin tugged at his lips. "Ah've wondered, sometimes, what it's like...bein' on de ot'er side o' dat fence."
A wash came over her expression; it was panic. She'd never really told that much of her story to anyone in this city. And while there were others who knew of her trials, even the ones she still kept secret, they weren't here. She shivered and sat up in the chair as she set the glass down on the end table. Isuelt swallowed and stood up, pushing her hair behind her ears, she pressed her lips together. Her long legs moved her within the vast room, toward a window. Folding her arms over her leather encased torso, she looked out from the glass upon the city below. "It's the easiest thing I've ever done, Ed." She exhaled as if she were unshelving her sins. "It was the most selfish, hedonistic time in my life. And it was perfectly effortless." Her voice faltered lightly as she finished. She held her tongue as her throat endeavored to strangle her with emotion.
He watched her thoughtfully as she went to the window, not getting up himself just yet. There had been times he'd seen her - at the Inn, or the odd occasion when he'd run into her, or her him - that he could see she was hiding some pain. It was odd, but he rather admired her for that. He wondered, to himself, if that made her the better person. "Yeah...Ah've heard dat about bein' on de wrong side o't'ings." He stood then, walking over to stand next to her at the window, looking out over the town below. For a long moment he was silent, taking a swallow or two of his scotch, before he finally spoke again. "So...what made ya...change?" He'd noticed the look on her face earlier, and added, "If ya don't mind me askin'. Seems like dat might be kinda pers'nal."
Hell, she'd gone this far, right' A slow inhale through her nose, and out again. She'd wished she'd had more to drink before she'd come over to Batten's place. Her tongue licked out at her lips before she began, "I guess my conscience finally got the better of me. It got tired of having the wool continuously pulled over its eyes." Her espresso locks fell over her shoulder as she turned to her side to look at Batten. "I'm sure you've felt it. That annoying tug at your better senses, even when you're trying your damnedest to run screaming into the darkness." Her words and thoughts were all over the place; she almost felt like her mind was being scrambled. There was so much welling up, as if a dam was cracking.
He nodded to that, his gaze going down to the drink he still had in hand, swirling it thoughtfully. "A time'r two, yeah." More than that, if one was being honest. He thought of himself as a 'good' guy, but there were times when it seemed...easier to ignore that...annoying tug, as she put it. There had even been once or twice he had almost done it. It was interesting, when he thought about it, how differently he could have turned out. He turned to look back at Issy. "Ah t'ink ev'ryone does, at least once, really...but...Ah mean, wit'out de darkness, we'd never know de light, would we?"
"Now you sound like the priestesses who instructed us," she scoffed playfully as she rolled her eyes. Her crooked smirk was swept toward her left cheek as she looked to him. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked back to the city below them, "It's beautiful up here. And actually peaceful. I think I'd have days where I wouldn't want to come down." In truth she had days where she didn't feel like getting out of bed, much less leaving the Sanctuary doors.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Dat was somet'in' my dad useta say...he t'ought dat life wasn' s'posed t'be easy, dat ya should have t'work fer what ya got, not have it handed to ya." He smiled at the memory. "He was a good man..." He looked out at the city, then, nodding agreement with her statement. He rarely thought about his parents, and though the thoughts were sometimes sad, the memories were always good ones. "Yeah...people wonder why Ah spend so much time up here." He chuckled, a little ruefully. "Ah need t'get out more, t'ough...ya can only see so much from here, an' ya start t'ferget dere are people out dere strugglin' ev'ryday fer what dey got, so dey c'n hold on to it."
Isuelt let Batten's words sink in good and long before she spoke next. "It's quite a calling isn't it' What we've become. Me, kicking and screaming the whole way, and you balancing on the edge..." She could sense from his comments and questions to her about her past that there was something more in Batten as well. Sometimes it's about a little more than curiosity, sometimes it's about a longing to try another avenue. "We are here, by whatever road, whatever fate, whatever deity to watch over those who need us most. To take those who suffer, those who struggle and give them hope. To make the world a better place is a misnomer. There's no such thing. We simply try to hold off the impending storm, that's all. And maybe we succeed and inspire others to take up our mantle when we are gone..."
He nodded, thoughtfully. "Ah never t'ought of m'self as tryin' t'inspire anyone to anyt'in', really...Ah jus' wanted t'help, hones'ly." He let out a sigh, leaning forward slightly to rest his head against the glass, looking out. "Ah've wondered, sometimes, if Ah sometimes do more harm dan good...it's one t'ing t'help when no one else can, but ya do it too much, an' ya become a crutch fer dem same people t'lean on. But..." He sighed, closed his eyes. "Ah never was in dis t'fight against de bad guy...from de start, it was like a game, almost, a way t'pass de time, and maybe give somet'in' back to de world dat gave so much t'me. An' den Ah came here...dere're people here dat are heroes in deir own right, and dey don' have t'put on a suit o'armor an' go flyin' 'round' dey're down dere on de street, in de dirt...no fancy toys, no protection, jus'...t'rowin' demselves in harm's way an' hpin' dey come out on top." He looked over at Issy, rather pointedly.
The priestess was watching Batten quietly, her dark eyes tried to shield any emotion with her lashes. Her jawline, usually ready to clench, was softened as she stood listening to him. She took his meaning and the gracious curve of her lips intoned that she understood. Still, she sensed it was his turn for catharsis and the espresso haired Scathachian nodded for him to continue. Her words of support would be held until he was spent in his own version of confession.
He shrugged, looking rather embarrassed. He never really talked to anyone about this sort of thing, not Kyle, not even Katt. ?"Ya all have somet'in' t'fight for, a reason beyond de so-called 'greater good'...ya got yer sisterhood, ot'ers got people dey care 'bout, or fait', or...somet'in'." He sighed, looking out at the city again, tipping up his glass for the last swallow. "Ah used t'know what it was Ah did it fer...Ah wanted people t'become better'n dey were...to help preserve life, make it evolve and improve." He shook his head. "But it was still jus' a game t'me, impers'nal...Ah kinda wonder, sometimes, what it is Ah'm tryin' t'make better, ever'one else, or jus' m'self."
"What about both?" She lifted a gloved hand to his shoulder, resting it there lightly. "You know Ed, there's no book or manual about how to do this. We're all just sort of out here....on our own...together." Her lashes blinked as she looked momentarily back to the cityscape before she eyed the Playboy once again, "Who's to say that inspiring someone, making someone better, or giving someone the strength to keep going can't make you a better person?" A gentle curl to her lips as she smiled lightly, "I'd like to think that maybe, maybe the good that we put out there can come back to us, in some small way. Maybe even in just inspiring each other we become better people. Better for them out there. And...and that's got to mean something. Right?" The Scathachian, even if she wasn't fully aware yet, was speaking to both herself and to Batten at that moment.
He didn't shrug off the hand, though he did turn to look at Issy with a faint smile. "Ah'd like t't'ink so, chere. It'd be nice, if dat turns out t'be de way it works." The smile turned a bit cynical, then. "Ah jus' hope Ah don' turn out t'be one of dem people dat tries t'save de world, such as it is, an' ends up destroyin' it instead."
"I don't think you will, Batten. You've got Katt looking after you now." That sideways smirk climbed up her right cheek once more. "And I won't let you get away with that, anyhow." She chuckled, thinking that he could have said the same thing to her. "We'll watch out for each other. All of us." She was speaking now about more than just herself and Batten and Katt. A finger reached up near the neck of her leather vest and ran gently over the com device there. "All of us. It's part of what will make us better people. Watching out for those who need us to raise them from hell, and watching out for each other." As if she had just come to this epiphany. A squeeze of his shoulder as she nodded her head and let her gaze trail once more out the window.
He nodded with a smile to her. He hadn't thought of Katt, actually, but that was more because he knew she could handle herself, with or without his help. He was about to say something else, when the golden holographic form of Diana popped up next to him. "I am sorry to interrupt, sir, Ms. DeRomiano. But I am monitoring what appears to be a problem in the Marketplace between Race and Renna. The situation is quickly becoming violent."
Both raven brows went up and she looked to Batten, her lips parted. Shall we" was written all over her face.
He let out a wry chuckle at Issy's look, nodding and looking to the hologram. "Di, get de Hammer mod suit ready." With a grin he looked back to Issy. "Back t'work, den. Ah'll meet ya dere...gotta go get changed." He headed out of the room, making for the stairs to the top floor of the penthouse.
"Right behind you, Ranger." She turned from the window and hurried down the steps. She wouldn't have time to grab her blades, but when dealing with Renna, when did those actually ever come in handy' Isuelt was down the stairs, and off to work her way out of Batten Tower. Diana in her ear the whole way, giving her the play by play.
The twisting spiral which now characterized the Rhydin skyline wasn't very difficult to pinpoint. So, it really didn't take this Scathachian very long to show up at the door with a paper sack in her hand. The glass doors where more than heavily monitored, she was sure. Employees and security personnel were busy around the clock. And even if Batten Tower was vacated of all human company, D.I.A.N.A. was always manning the fort.
It was in fact D.I.A.N.A. whom Isuelt addressed little more than half a block away as she tapped the com device just inside of her leather vest. "Diana, it's Nails. Ranger in the vicinity of Batten Tower?"
Only a tidy few moments passed before that cool voice streamed through the device. "Affirmative. In the penthouse. I was not aware that you had an appointment, Nails."
"I don't." Clipped and curt as she pushed against the glass doors which stood proudly before the imposing high-countered desk which displayed the shield of Batten Industries.
"Good evening, Ms. DeRomiano," the professional, yet stern tone of the lovely desk attendant cooed.
Isuelt only arched a brow. It really never failed to amaze her, the amount of eyes and ears that Batten had to the ground at any one time nearly rivaled the gods. No matter, this woman was only doing her job, and she knew that there was no getting past those heavy doors, let alone all the way to the top three floors without playing the game and jumping through a few polite hoops. After all, who in the hell was she to brutishly blaze through here like she was knocking directly on his door" This wasn't just an ordinary citizen, and frankly that was the reason Isuelt was here.
"Ah...evening. I was told Mr. Batten was in?" She didn't see the need to say who had told her. Maybe she would leave that for later.
"Yes, ma'am but I'm afraid he isn't accepting visitors." Her smile was perfect, almost plastic. But it was rehearsed enough to not look off putting, but simply serene.
"Uh huh," something the Scathachian really didn't count on. She was so used to knocking on a front door and that would be that. And at that point, if she heard the person she sought scream out I'm not home! she got the gist. This, however, was different. This was practically a different world. The paper bag crinkled in her hand as she gripped up on the neck of the bottle beneath it.
The blonde - whose nameplate on the desk read simply 'Olivia' - kept the smile on her features as she spoke again. "I am very sorry, Ms. DeRomiano. However, if you would like, I would be happy to set you up with an appointm-" She broke off as the phone had her desk let out a musical, three-bell chime, and she held up a finger as she picked it up. "Yes, sir?" There was a pause as she listened, followed by, "Very sorry, sir. Mr. Pontius told me...very well, sir. I'll send her right up." Setting the phone down, she put her smile back on, gesturing to the right side of the lobby, where a hall led to the elevators. "It looks like you've been granted an audience, Ms. DeRomiano." There was a hint of humor in that cool, professional voice as she spoke. "You'll want the middle elevator...Diana will see to it that you get to the penthouse."
"Uh...thank you," she caught the tone of the woman's voice, and couldn't help but smirk at it herself. Was 'flattered' something that should be going through her mind just now" In any regards, she could ponder that on her way upstairs. Taking the middle elevator, the doors closed upon her. She really didn't like these things, but it wasn't her first trip in one. She decided to distract herself. A soft drawl to her voice, "You have something to do with this, Diana?" The Scathachian chuckled slightly, thinking better of the bagged bottle in her right hand. She inhaled as the elevator took off, leaving her stomach on the lobby floor. It would be wrong to break into a gift one was giving another, even to take the edge off. Right'
The sultry voice of the AI came back from hidden speakers as the elevator ascended. "I might have mentioned the scotch you're carrying." Within moments they were at the top, and the doors opened to let Isuelt out. "Mr. Batten is on the second floor, Nails. The stairs are out of the entryway and to the left." The entry hall was short enough that Isuelt could see the stairs easily - the penthouse level of Batten Tower looked like someone had taken a small mansion with a very open floor design and transplanted it to the top of the building.
The Scathachian chuckled at Diana. Who would have thought that she had a sense of humor" "Holy sh*t..." she breathed those words involuntarily as the doors opened and she took a few steps toward the stairs. She was deeply astonished by what was before her. It was like a palace to her eyes, fixtures, flooring and the supreme craftsmanship of the very walls beckoned a tonal sigh from the priestess. It occurred to her that she had never actually been in any of Batten's private residences. Batten Towers, yes. The medical facilities, yes. But his home" This was a first. As she took the stairs, she concentrated on holding the bottle in her hand. Couldn't have it slip from her gobsmacked hands, now could she" At the top of the staircase, she looked to her sides. She figured she'd start to the right. Those long legs carried her slowly, and she was very aware of the noise her leather made as she moved.
Good guess. She didn't have to go very far to find him, either - after perhaps ten feet the dividing wall ended, opening onto a room at least as large as any of the others in the house. Judging by the decor, it looked like it was a living area, and one whole wall was taken up by the view of the Temple District to the south. They were high enough that it was rather akin to what one might expect from a castle keep overlooking a king's territory. Like the rest of the penthouse, the room had an open and spacious feel to it enough that even the most chronic of claustrophobics would be comfortable in it. The Playboy himself was standing at a desk off to the side, and arrayed in front of him were a number of different screens, all showing what looked like a section of the Old Temple district in a very finely detailed, sharp grayscale that almost looked like a computer simulation.
Isuelt's lips were parted, though she attempted to reign in her wonder. Her dark eyes scanned the room slowly, taking it all in. The view beyond was like nothing she had ever seen. Even the Den of Scathach back on the Island of Shadow, the highest point on the island, was nowhere near the height that they were now. Without introduction, she simply slithered her candor to the Playboy, "How much f*cking money do you have?" Though there was a hint of bemusement in her voice, she still stood her ground, waiting to be formally invited in. Not all manners were lost on her, after all.
Batten chuckled as he watched the screens for a moment longer. "Sometimes, Ah t'ink Ah might have too much. Pont likes t'say dat Ah got 'nuff t'buy a few small countries, but Ah t'ink dat may be a li'l on de conservative side." He left the screens on as he turned away from them to Issy. "Well, don' just stand dere, c'mon in. What brings ya t'my humble abode, Issy?" That last part said with more than a trace of irony. The penthouse was anything but humble.
Her boot falls seemed to echo to her as she moved into the room. She canted her head to the side and smirked as she shrugged and planted the paper bagged bottle on the small marble-topped table next to him. The glass on marble produced a distinct sound, heralding the arrival of a gift worth giving...and unopened even! Espresso hair fumbled over her shoulder as she looked behind her and took up a nearby chair. She was without her weapons tonight, so no worrying about skewering a priceless antique chair or the like. Dark eyes trained back on Batten, "I think I owe you."
Fortunately, he didn't have any priceless antiques. Well, not furniture, anyway. What was the use of having a chair you couldn't be comfortable sitting in" He eyed the bag, then Issy with an arched eyebrow, looking mildly surprised. "Fer what, exactly?"
Her tongue ran along her teeth as her mouth pursed for a moment. She was obviously chewing on her words, "Look Ed, I'm not used to being on the sh*t list side of this city. And uh...even less so used to be shot at by someone that I really counted among my few friends." Her hands went up, "Now I know she was firing at you and all...and by the way, you've got a huge mouth. But standing in between you...I figured that would be that, you know" And Great Hera! Even damned Renna eventually came stand with me! I mean, how f*cking crazy is this" Me and Renna" On the same bloody side" What the hell is going on, you know" This city is even more crazy than usual." She shook her head as she trailed off and looked away from Batten. Contemplating for a moment, she then licked her lips, "Thanks for taking the heat for me. Don't think I don't appreciate that."
He shrugged at that, waving awa her thanks. He had to smirk at her statement about him shooting his mouth off, though. "Yeah, well. Dey were wrong, yanno' Stupid, really...ya don't get yer panties in a bunch wit' someone jus' 'cause dey have a diff'rent opinion dan you...s'like dey were blamin' ya - us - fer de acts o'people dat we had not'in' t'do wit'." He did reach out for the bag, though, and pulled the bottle out to look it over. "Dey're fightin' de wrong battle...hell, whet'er Ah t'ink de whole t'ing's a good idea or no, Ah ain't gonna jus' stand 'round an' let people come t'harm 'cause of it. And neit'er would you. Dey don' seem t'realize dat...s'like we were bein' accused of bein' no better'n dat horse's arse Rakeesh." At the mention of Renna, he looked up, the bottle only halfway out of the bag. "Yeah...dat was a li'l strange...but...well, Renna's Renna. She tryin' t'understand her's not gonna get ya anyt'ing but a headache."
"Well I know that. You know that. But like you said, trying to explain it to people is....ah, it's a waste of time mostly." She glanced to him and sighed at the mention of Renna. She had had an epiphany about the woman that night, and strangely, the taste of Renna's name on her tongue wasn't as bitter. "Do you know I got a letter from some kid that was in the Inn that night' Yelling at me about not doing my part for the people of this city' Saying I was 'mean'?" She shook her head and leaned back in the chair, stretching her legs out before her. "Pffft...yeah right! Like I enjoy bleeding for people who think I'm a pain in the arse." She watched Batten's progress with the bottle. It was minutely apparent that she had already tied a few on before she had come over.
He chuckled as he stood and took the bottle to the mini bar nearby, picking out a pair of glasses that looked to be made out of crystal. "Yer not de only one. So far Ah've gotten people writin' all sortsa t'ings t'me...t'ink one guy even t'reatened t'turn me into a lizard or some such t'ing." He chuckled. "Ah don' t'ink dat's gonna happen, hones'ly...t'ough mebbe if he did Ah'd get a real vacation." A few fingers of the scotch were poured into each glass, which he carried back to his seat, offering one out to Issy as he sat.
There was an upnod of her head for the glass offered. "And it's not as if we're ready to string up every birthday party magician. But just to talk about the pros and cons of a single issue, jeez. It's like these people are being asked to give up oxygen," she paused just then before her sip and looked to him. "Now I know you got banned from that lab of yours for what? Like a week" Why don't you just jet off somewhere for vacation?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "De lab is my play area...but it ain't de only place Ah do m'work. Got a whole comp'ny t'run, and...well...t'be honest, Ah trust my people, but...s'kinda like leavin' yer kid wit's someone an' takin' off fer a week. Ya can do it, but it ain't easy." The glass was lifted for a swallow, and he found the sampling to his liking. "Dis is perty good."
Despite herself, a low laugh started in her throat and made it out past her tongue. "I wouldn't know anything about kids. And thanks," she lifted the glass a touch. "Got some help with picking it out." "Anyway," she swallowed a mouthful and exhaled the heat carefully as she reclined back. Her dark eyes studied the glass; the cuts in the crystal were some of the most beautiful she could remember seeing. "I just wanted to formally thank you, out of the public eye, for sticking to your proverbial guns on this. Even though it's not the most popular opinion in town." She took another sip and still her gaze was focused on the glass once again, "And you know, it's not even that I really think this is the end all be all of every problem Rhydin has. Hell, I remember there was a time when I was the one causing problems in a city, rather than....It's just that I think this has merit. Maybe, I don't know...as a punishment' For someone committing a crime with magic or...." The warrior paused again, sensing her soapbox was too near. She wrinkled her nose to him for a moment and shook her head. "Sorry."
He let out a chuckle. There was an article in the GangSTAR a while back that said he and Issy might be an item, which he found amusing, at the least. Hadn't he heard somewhere she had a man' "Yeah, well, fer me it's easy. Ah'm perty well of de 'don' give a f*ck' mindset when it comes t'people and deir opinions of me pers'nally...a lot of folks have a harder time of takin' dat kinda heat." Being one of the richest men in town didn't hurt. "T'be honest...Ah don' know havin' de magically criminal bein' listed will help much...Ah mean, look at all de havoc Renna used t'wreak all over de place. An' ever'one knew dat she was magical..."
"This city's got so much wrong with it...there's no way that one thing is going to solve everything." Her shoulders rolled for a moment as her chin tipped up, chocolate eyes looking over the ceiling molding. "Wow..." A soft chuckle wrestled with an exhale and managed to be a hybrid of the two as she looked back to him, "I used to be like that. You know, not giving a sh*t." Beat. "I was probably a lot happier then."
He chuckled again, shrugging. "Well...Ah used t'be jus' de opposite, really. Always t'ought of what people useta t'ink." His features assumed a thoughtful expression. "Ah guess Ah still do, hones'y, on some small level...public image, an' all dat, s'far as runnin' a comp'ny goes...but dat's a bit diff'rent."
"Guess so," she mused for a moment on running a business, an empire. Introspectively, she nodded and thought about what Scorp went through to keep all of those proverbial plates spinning in the air at the same time back in Metro. But that was a little different. He was really defined as more of a crime boss, feeding the corrupt underbelly of the city and taking pleasure in the finer angles of crime. And Isuelt' She was one of his enforcers and one of his bedmates. In fact, as she thought back to the man she hadn't had much communication with in a few years, her lips curled and her nostrils lightly flared. She was going to need something stronger than the elegant single malt she had brought Batten as a gift. She wondered how many women Scorp had in his bed these days. "Doesn't really matter anyway." A blink as she was brought back to the present, hoping her words weren't as fractured as her thoughts.
He was nothing if not observant, and he thought he knew that look. It was the look of a woman contemplating a man. In some capacity, anyway. "So...if ya don' mind me askin', what changed" Dat made ya start carin', when b'fore ya didn't."
Those dark eyes, almost black in the ambient lighting of the penthouse, focused on Batten. Really focused. Isuelt did trust him. He'd won countless points by bailing her arse out of trouble and he wasn't afraid to take advice from her either. They were compatriots and she knew he could keep secrets. She took a moment before she answered. "I switched sides." Simply said, she awaited his response. She was curious how much she'd be sharing in the coming moments.
"Switched sides." The words were said thoughtfully, the usual Playboy persona he so often wore in public dropped for the moment. He'd often suspected there was more to Issy than a simple warrior woman, though he wasn't sure just what it was that lurked under that. He'd never really been on any other 'side' than the one he was on, though whether that was good or bad could be a subjective thing. "Why?"
"I wasn't always the hero I imagine myself to be," she nearly spat out the word 'hero.' "I...oh sure, I was trained as a Scathachian and went out into the world as a champion of justice to fight for the weak and downtrodden..." Her voice took on the over-dramatic tone of mimicry. "But as I delved more deeply into the outside world...I..." That far away look came over her once again. "I guess I was seduced by the shades of gray in the world. There was no black and white. No good and evil, pure and simple. It was all a big jumble of gray. I tried. I took what work I could. Being a Scathachian isn't exactly a marketable trade, if you haven't noticed." She shrugged as she continued, "I strayed from the path that was laid before me. I..." And here she seriously stalled. "I was an assassin." Those thick lashes shuttled her focus back to Batten. "Sword for hire. I tried to make sure that it was people who had it coming, you know" But again...that gray area sort of took over and I slipped. I failed. I was married and widowed in the span of about four years and then it just spiraled out of control from there." She could feel the self-inflicted scars on her body burning as the truth came pouring out. "I fell in with a group of folks who...who thought that the world was their oyster. And I wanted so much to believe that it was mine too." "I'm not exactly proud of how far I strayed from Scathach's mantle, and I know that I'm still paying for it. But, I deserve it. The punishment, I mean. The crimes I committed; murder, larceny, arson, drug running..." She quieted for a moment before she finished her glass, "I deserve every ounce of punishment coming to me."
He listened to all of this silently. He knew a bit about everyone around this town, but even so there were many other things he didn't know, simply because files didn't exist or he had no access to them. "Well...at least yer tryin' t'make up fer it. Lots wouldn't...dey'd eit'er be consumed by de life, or dey'd feel like dey had no ot'er choice, dat dere was no goin' back." A faint grin tugged at his lips. "Ah've wondered, sometimes, what it's like...bein' on de ot'er side o' dat fence."
A wash came over her expression; it was panic. She'd never really told that much of her story to anyone in this city. And while there were others who knew of her trials, even the ones she still kept secret, they weren't here. She shivered and sat up in the chair as she set the glass down on the end table. Isuelt swallowed and stood up, pushing her hair behind her ears, she pressed her lips together. Her long legs moved her within the vast room, toward a window. Folding her arms over her leather encased torso, she looked out from the glass upon the city below. "It's the easiest thing I've ever done, Ed." She exhaled as if she were unshelving her sins. "It was the most selfish, hedonistic time in my life. And it was perfectly effortless." Her voice faltered lightly as she finished. She held her tongue as her throat endeavored to strangle her with emotion.
He watched her thoughtfully as she went to the window, not getting up himself just yet. There had been times he'd seen her - at the Inn, or the odd occasion when he'd run into her, or her him - that he could see she was hiding some pain. It was odd, but he rather admired her for that. He wondered, to himself, if that made her the better person. "Yeah...Ah've heard dat about bein' on de wrong side o't'ings." He stood then, walking over to stand next to her at the window, looking out over the town below. For a long moment he was silent, taking a swallow or two of his scotch, before he finally spoke again. "So...what made ya...change?" He'd noticed the look on her face earlier, and added, "If ya don't mind me askin'. Seems like dat might be kinda pers'nal."
Hell, she'd gone this far, right' A slow inhale through her nose, and out again. She'd wished she'd had more to drink before she'd come over to Batten's place. Her tongue licked out at her lips before she began, "I guess my conscience finally got the better of me. It got tired of having the wool continuously pulled over its eyes." Her espresso locks fell over her shoulder as she turned to her side to look at Batten. "I'm sure you've felt it. That annoying tug at your better senses, even when you're trying your damnedest to run screaming into the darkness." Her words and thoughts were all over the place; she almost felt like her mind was being scrambled. There was so much welling up, as if a dam was cracking.
He nodded to that, his gaze going down to the drink he still had in hand, swirling it thoughtfully. "A time'r two, yeah." More than that, if one was being honest. He thought of himself as a 'good' guy, but there were times when it seemed...easier to ignore that...annoying tug, as she put it. There had even been once or twice he had almost done it. It was interesting, when he thought about it, how differently he could have turned out. He turned to look back at Issy. "Ah t'ink ev'ryone does, at least once, really...but...Ah mean, wit'out de darkness, we'd never know de light, would we?"
"Now you sound like the priestesses who instructed us," she scoffed playfully as she rolled her eyes. Her crooked smirk was swept toward her left cheek as she looked to him. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked back to the city below them, "It's beautiful up here. And actually peaceful. I think I'd have days where I wouldn't want to come down." In truth she had days where she didn't feel like getting out of bed, much less leaving the Sanctuary doors.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Dat was somet'in' my dad useta say...he t'ought dat life wasn' s'posed t'be easy, dat ya should have t'work fer what ya got, not have it handed to ya." He smiled at the memory. "He was a good man..." He looked out at the city, then, nodding agreement with her statement. He rarely thought about his parents, and though the thoughts were sometimes sad, the memories were always good ones. "Yeah...people wonder why Ah spend so much time up here." He chuckled, a little ruefully. "Ah need t'get out more, t'ough...ya can only see so much from here, an' ya start t'ferget dere are people out dere strugglin' ev'ryday fer what dey got, so dey c'n hold on to it."
Isuelt let Batten's words sink in good and long before she spoke next. "It's quite a calling isn't it' What we've become. Me, kicking and screaming the whole way, and you balancing on the edge..." She could sense from his comments and questions to her about her past that there was something more in Batten as well. Sometimes it's about a little more than curiosity, sometimes it's about a longing to try another avenue. "We are here, by whatever road, whatever fate, whatever deity to watch over those who need us most. To take those who suffer, those who struggle and give them hope. To make the world a better place is a misnomer. There's no such thing. We simply try to hold off the impending storm, that's all. And maybe we succeed and inspire others to take up our mantle when we are gone..."
He nodded, thoughtfully. "Ah never t'ought of m'self as tryin' t'inspire anyone to anyt'in', really...Ah jus' wanted t'help, hones'ly." He let out a sigh, leaning forward slightly to rest his head against the glass, looking out. "Ah've wondered, sometimes, if Ah sometimes do more harm dan good...it's one t'ing t'help when no one else can, but ya do it too much, an' ya become a crutch fer dem same people t'lean on. But..." He sighed, closed his eyes. "Ah never was in dis t'fight against de bad guy...from de start, it was like a game, almost, a way t'pass de time, and maybe give somet'in' back to de world dat gave so much t'me. An' den Ah came here...dere're people here dat are heroes in deir own right, and dey don' have t'put on a suit o'armor an' go flyin' 'round' dey're down dere on de street, in de dirt...no fancy toys, no protection, jus'...t'rowin' demselves in harm's way an' hpin' dey come out on top." He looked over at Issy, rather pointedly.
The priestess was watching Batten quietly, her dark eyes tried to shield any emotion with her lashes. Her jawline, usually ready to clench, was softened as she stood listening to him. She took his meaning and the gracious curve of her lips intoned that she understood. Still, she sensed it was his turn for catharsis and the espresso haired Scathachian nodded for him to continue. Her words of support would be held until he was spent in his own version of confession.
He shrugged, looking rather embarrassed. He never really talked to anyone about this sort of thing, not Kyle, not even Katt. ?"Ya all have somet'in' t'fight for, a reason beyond de so-called 'greater good'...ya got yer sisterhood, ot'ers got people dey care 'bout, or fait', or...somet'in'." He sighed, looking out at the city again, tipping up his glass for the last swallow. "Ah used t'know what it was Ah did it fer...Ah wanted people t'become better'n dey were...to help preserve life, make it evolve and improve." He shook his head. "But it was still jus' a game t'me, impers'nal...Ah kinda wonder, sometimes, what it is Ah'm tryin' t'make better, ever'one else, or jus' m'self."
"What about both?" She lifted a gloved hand to his shoulder, resting it there lightly. "You know Ed, there's no book or manual about how to do this. We're all just sort of out here....on our own...together." Her lashes blinked as she looked momentarily back to the cityscape before she eyed the Playboy once again, "Who's to say that inspiring someone, making someone better, or giving someone the strength to keep going can't make you a better person?" A gentle curl to her lips as she smiled lightly, "I'd like to think that maybe, maybe the good that we put out there can come back to us, in some small way. Maybe even in just inspiring each other we become better people. Better for them out there. And...and that's got to mean something. Right?" The Scathachian, even if she wasn't fully aware yet, was speaking to both herself and to Batten at that moment.
He didn't shrug off the hand, though he did turn to look at Issy with a faint smile. "Ah'd like t't'ink so, chere. It'd be nice, if dat turns out t'be de way it works." The smile turned a bit cynical, then. "Ah jus' hope Ah don' turn out t'be one of dem people dat tries t'save de world, such as it is, an' ends up destroyin' it instead."
"I don't think you will, Batten. You've got Katt looking after you now." That sideways smirk climbed up her right cheek once more. "And I won't let you get away with that, anyhow." She chuckled, thinking that he could have said the same thing to her. "We'll watch out for each other. All of us." She was speaking now about more than just herself and Batten and Katt. A finger reached up near the neck of her leather vest and ran gently over the com device there. "All of us. It's part of what will make us better people. Watching out for those who need us to raise them from hell, and watching out for each other." As if she had just come to this epiphany. A squeeze of his shoulder as she nodded her head and let her gaze trail once more out the window.
He nodded with a smile to her. He hadn't thought of Katt, actually, but that was more because he knew she could handle herself, with or without his help. He was about to say something else, when the golden holographic form of Diana popped up next to him. "I am sorry to interrupt, sir, Ms. DeRomiano. But I am monitoring what appears to be a problem in the Marketplace between Race and Renna. The situation is quickly becoming violent."
Both raven brows went up and she looked to Batten, her lips parted. Shall we" was written all over her face.
He let out a wry chuckle at Issy's look, nodding and looking to the hologram. "Di, get de Hammer mod suit ready." With a grin he looked back to Issy. "Back t'work, den. Ah'll meet ya dere...gotta go get changed." He headed out of the room, making for the stairs to the top floor of the penthouse.
"Right behind you, Ranger." She turned from the window and hurried down the steps. She wouldn't have time to grab her blades, but when dealing with Renna, when did those actually ever come in handy' Isuelt was down the stairs, and off to work her way out of Batten Tower. Diana in her ear the whole way, giving her the play by play.