Weaving An Alliance [Mega]

The portrait of the girl had done well to capture her likeness, for the most part, seeing that a few understandably minute details had not been picked up on. For example, there were only eighteen facial and ear piercings when there should have been twenty-nine. It seemed that the artist had conglomerated multiple piercings into one for convenience’s sake, which would have been understandable if they had not been lumped into oversized adornments, that which the owner would never wear. A good amount of detail had gone into the heart-shaped outline of her face, with emphasis on striking cheekbones, a small nose, and strong eyebrows. A great amount of detail had gone into the eyes, undoubtedly the standout of the face. Slightly upturned and mono-lidded, they appeared to be of Asian descent, save for the bright, icy-blue irises. And although meant to come off as emotionless, it was the eyes that brought about a spookiness, a sense of discomfort for one staring at them for too long. Finishing out the portrait was a head of pitch-black hair pulled back flat and into a high ponytail.

For a wanted poster, Rapture couldn’t complain. The sheer number of these digitized portraits had become a bit of a hassle after being plastered all over Jump City, on the news, and printed in newspapers. DOMA had made a supervillain out of the petite powerhouse after she had fought toe to toe with their billionaire savior, Tesla, a battle that had been preceded by the incapacitation of two of the maligned organization’s best agents. Throw on psychological damage from the Mother Tiger and a rather spirited band of yokai, add property damage, and you’ve got an incredibly highly-prioritized warrant. For that, Rapture had only herself to blame, although it meant having to stick to the shadows a little more closely.

And into the shadows she would delve further tonight, one could say into potentially hazardous waters. Pocketing the flier, she proceeded to her destination. Tonight, the dragon sought after a demon, one whose reputation of being as powerful as she was paranoid drew the former to the latter. As much as she hated to admit it, Rapture needed help, more than what could come from three loyal subjects and a washed-up actor. True, the actor had proved useful in scouting the place and Voodoo having made and sealed the negotiations for the two DOMA-hating darlings had been quite nice, but for such a large scale operation, DOMA needed its greatest adversaries to join forces, unholy may they be. That had led her to the Onan Lounge, the designated meeting place for the two. A highly successful nightclub with plenty of patrons, loud music, and frenetic dancing was the last place Rapture wanted to be, but wanted this meeting more. Turning the corner and skipping the line, the yokai priestess fished her own wanted poster and showed the bouncer.

“Give these guys a call and they won’t stop with me,” she stated firmly. Pausing for a moment, the large man seemed to freeze up before letting the criminal in.

A cacophony of sounds blasted Rapture’s ears as lights aimed to blind her. Two disgusting assaults of the senses, but nothing in comparison to what she had dealt with before. Making her way through the crowd with relative ease due to her small stature, the girl made her way to the back of the club and up to the second floor. She caught the occasional glare from what must have been members of Weaver’s gang, but alerted no trouble; they had been forewarned, and forewarned they should be. Passing another checkpoint at the top of the stairs, Rapture made her way to the forth VIP room, sat down, and resumed staring at her warrant as she waited for the right company.

The portrait of the girl had done well to capture her likeness, but no artist could illustrate the blistering hatred behind those sharp blue eyes.

Earlier...

Weaver would be as she often was while there wasn't anything that required her physical attention, playing one of her video games- an older classic this time from the castlevania series. Cyberpunk was arguably her favorite "genre" of sorts but for some reason, the gothic and "creepy" look of castlevania had a special place in her heart. The series was also the sort to actually be difficult for her, a rare case of her enjoying the challenge instead of enduring it. She was on one such difficult part, drowning out the world around her so she could focus- also ignoring the small masked creature which she had for the time being taken in. It was cute... and it's mask was that of a skull, which was an added plus. That and she was tired of having to physically get rid of them, and this one in particular wasn't like the others she had dealt with. It was... ghostly for lack of a better word. So she instead put it to work in exchange for existing, and so far stopped having trouble with the rest of it's kin.

After getting through the section, she found herself in another hard section of the game and just like before focused. Except this time her phone went off, startling her out of her trance-like state and making her die in the video game. Once she was loaded back into the level, she paused it and answered with an icy tone, "Yes?" Weaver asked after seeing who was actually calling. It was part of her inner circle, someone she had called over from Japan to help her against DOMA.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but this warrants your attention. An old acquaintance of ours got in touch with me. It was Voodoo," his voice intoned calmly, Weaver sat up on reflex for a moment and furrowed her brow. She did remember. After taking over from her father, she made a point of learning all she could about the other important Yakuza members, and being the daughter of the at the time "head" had given her enough opportunity. "He's in town on some business, acting as a contact for someone wanting to get in touch with you. That girl who fought DOMA recently," he continued before she had to ask. "I'm positive that's not his only role but that was what he came to us for," he added.

Weaver had heard of that, and there had been enough "wanted posters" around to run the point across that she was a high priority target. She had been getting more popular lately, recalling an investment of hers. Still, it didn't put her in a good light if she attacked DOMA in broad daylight- it was the reason she had to let The Hive 5 go, their "smash and grab" attitude drew too much attention and didn't mesh well with her own preferences. Still, clearly she understood discretion because DOMA was still looking for her- right? "Did he leave a contacts number?" Weaver asked, entertaining the idea for now as her Spooky Steve offered her a Dr. Pepper.

"Correct. I had to make sure that what he was saying could be true before I informed you," he replied, confirming why he was one of few people she trusted to any actual extent. It still meant that he was less likely to betray her, not that he wouldn't ever. "Should I let them know you're interested?" He asked curiously.

"Yes. We'll have them meet on our terms though," Weaver replied, and after establishing the terms with some back and forth, the meeting was now at hand.

The present...

Weaver was already at her club, lurking in the shadows nearby on the outside. She already knew who to look for, and was just wanting to see if this just an elaborate ploy. That's why she naturally picked a place she was familiar with, which was also crawling with her men- less likely to do something stupid. Once she did see how she just walked in, Weaver narrowed her eyes slightly. The bouncer did however after putting two and two together, crumpled it up again and just shoved it into his pocket. Her men knew better, thankfully. This was not making a good impression, and the fact she could be drawing attention to her club upset her even more as she sunk further into the shadows. Travelling through the intricate "web" of darkness, Weaver would emerge from a dark corner of the room she was meeting Rapture in. Her eyes would be the first thing Rapture would see, gleaming unnaturally behind the hannya mask she always wore when she had to make physical appearances. She was also dressed in her many pocketed, hoodie which was tightened to fit her own small frame. It was clear she was making damned sure not even a hair was exposed. Slithering away from Weaver, was another shadow which slowly rose up and took the shape of an imposing, dark figure. "It" was standing at her side in a position to either attack or protect, depending on the circumstances.

Weaver said nothing first, even her eyes conveyed nothing as she just waited for Rapture to start. It was her who came to her to broker an alliance afterall...

Having arrived four minutes early as she always did, Rapture took the extra time to meditate despite the blaring noise. She focused on the task at hand, considering how to approach the negotiations in a civil and convincing manner. Her presence warranted danger regardless, and while Weaver stuck to the shadows, Ryuuzaki had approached DOMA with blazing fury, open for scrutiny and the eyes of those who dared oppress her. These styles obviously, but a meld between the two could prove fruitful. There was no point in trying to play to the others’ best interests if she didn’t intend to stick to them; she was here to propose an alliance, not toy around with empty promises.

Four minutes later, and Rapture was no longer alone. In her company stood an individual not much short than she, donning a hannya mask, and a fine one at that. Not a bad choice for a way to conceal one’s identity, but the yokai priestess had internally smile at the irony of it; she had fought and killed many hannya in her relatively short life, battling the jealousy-driven female oni off on a number of missions. Even more ironic, the older teen had worn one not too long ago in a ceremonial cleansing in the Shinto temple of which she called home. The hannya were often depicted as suffering creatures, making the choice even more intriguing.

As a fellow petite powerhouse, Rapture knew that appearances were always deceiving. Whether or not Weaver was human or not was still under question, as were the extent of her abilities. Normally, she would not entertain the thought of dealing with such an unknown individual, but these were not normal circumstances. That, and she trusted Facade to not give out useless information… well, yes she could, but not when dealing with this matter. He and Voodoo had vouched for this individual’s prominence as an adversary for DOMA. Good enough for her.

“Dery kui wa utareru,” she opened. “A Japanese proverb. Literally translates to 'the stake that sticks up gets hammered down.’ Means if you stand out, you will be subject to criticism. Doesn’t seem to be a problem for you, but as you know, I’m kinda the prime example here. We share the same cause: destroy DOMA. I think you could use a sturdy stake in your arsenal.”

Once Weaver had fully emerged and had adjusted to her surroundings, she mentally became aware of an important fact. Either she did her thinking in different voices, or there were other "minds" thinking autonomously. The latter simply meant that she would under no circumstance, even think about delving into Rapture's mind- at all. She had only done so with one person ONCE, and it wasn't a great exchange. Weaver would then tilt her head to Rapture speaking a Japanese proverb. If she were someone else it may have given her some level of comfort to meet a fellow countryman. Weaver was not of that mindset, she was mostly surrounded by her countrymen anyway. "Juunin toiro," Weaver quipped in Japanese, nodding slightly. "It's harder for an enemy to stop you the less they know about you," she added, a subtle jab at Rapture's display walking in.

"And yes, I could. But what's your stake in this? What do you get out of this?" Weaver asked simply, wanting to get to business. It wasn't hard to assume that given her status as leader of Three Oni, that without the heavy presence of DOMA troops she could benefit from having less boots on the ground against her. The Titans were bad in their own right but as many criminals had already proven, there were fewer of them in comparison to a literal army occupying the station. What may have been less known was that they had also pissed her off by one of their agents executing some of her men, which she wouldn't stand for.

“It may be harder for them to stop you, but you can’t pack quite the punch from beneath than you can directly,” Rapture countered calmly. Both parties had a point, this she understood. Straddling the line and meeting in the middle would prove most important to this meeting. When Weaver exchanged Japanese proverbs, the older teen leaned back in amusement. The phrase had been delivered cleanly, like someone who knew the language, but not necessarily by someone native to the country. Still, the heavy ties with Yakuza, the name of the club, and her mask hinted toward someone who at least had been clued in on the culture.

“My stake?” she repeated. “You’re clearly an individual of international interest, so you must know about HOPE. If not, let me reignite your memory; superhumans in Japan were faced with a choice: register and give up their secret identities or become criminals, nothing more than the real villains they set out to thwart. A civil war broke out, leaving casualties on both sides and bad blood running through both veins and streets. No one won, but we both lost. I come to this country to remove myself of that darkness, yet it followed me –– literally, on one circumstance. The scale of this insidious operation pales by leagues compared to Japan, but it’s only a matter of time.”

Procuring her wanted poster, she placed it on the table and tapped it twice. “This is my stake. My freedom, and the freedom for those who are being oppressed. I could say that it’s for the betterment of mankind or some sort of bullshit, but it’s not. It’s personal, and now it must be beyond that. Now, it’s necessary. DOMA must not gain any more power that they already hold, lest they repeat the past. The Titans cower in their tower and dare not make a decision. The ‘heroes’ have failed Jump. Now, it’s in our hands.”

Weaver was for the most part done with quipping over personal preferences. Everyone knew the quickest path was a straight line, in this case applying direct force through an obstacle. However an indirect alternative should never be excluded, as it was fully possible to eliminate an obstacle with an unexpected application of force. Regardless, show of force in either form would not be enough to rid DOMA from the city. Not until it reached the heights of violence Rapture seemed to be describing. She was actually alittle surprised by how straight forward and upfront Rapture was about her reasons for battling DOMA. In her line of business it was more often than not that what someone said didn't add up with how they felt, and yet they seemed to match up in this case- not including the other thoughts and emotions which Weaver was content to leave be. It was kind of a pleasant relief, actually.

There was still the matter of having a high ranking Yakuza in her corner, which implied that she somehow had enough clout to sway potential threats to her side. She didn't have anything more to lose that she wasn't already at risk of losing with fighting DOMA, and having another reliable piece on the board was preferable. Weaver would still just have to keep an eye on her and her dealings with Voodoo, just to be on the safer side. "Simply attacking them won't stop a repeat," Weaver pointed out. For now they had the finnancial backing of an entire nation under the pretenses of oppression. So long as they still had that backing, there would never be an end of cannonfodder for the grinder. "They will not leave until they no longer have the resources to fight, or it reaches a point like with HOPE," she continued simply, laying out what in her mind was the two factors to determine how DOMA would be removed.

"This is where my dealings from the shadows will come in handy. While they're busy chasing our shadows, I'll be looking for something to reveal them for what they are; a force of oppression. Anything which forces legal action against them, forcing their backers to pull the plug. In the mean time, it's hard to wage a war when you don't have the resources..." Weaver finished, not directly saying that Rapture's terms were acceptable for an alliance- but it was clearly implied. And while they'd both need to find a kind of balance between subtle and direct action, a war on two fronts would strain DOMA's resources. Which would delay a repeat of HOPE happening, which was what Rapture wanted, and it would buy Weaver time to find DOMA's dirty secrets to bring to light and legally get them removed from power altogether. Since Rapture wasn't asking for any finnancial gain of the like, Weaver was fine with both parties getting what they wanted in this scenario.

“I’m not sure the depletion of weapons will work out when they have Tesla as a backer. Tech galore, and really powerful stuff. Trust me, I experienced it first-hand and I have to admit, it’s pretty wicked stuff. Impressive, really,” Rapture noted, thinking back to her fight with the armored juggernaut with a casual sense of nostalgia. The fight had left a new light on the billionaire, one that glared with the revelation that she had been nothing but an obstacle that had to be pushed out of the way, albeit more carefully than others. That fight called back to others, ones even more closely matched and some that ended in casualties. This most recent sliver of the past had dug into the petite powerhouse’s skin, serving as a reminder to finish the job. Leaning back nonchalantly, she continued. “Internally seems to be the way to go about it. That may not be my strong suit, but I do have a guy who could prove useful…”

A man out of job and in need of employment, to boot. Although she had only known him for a few short months, his allegiance to her mother’s bloodline stood true, and his motivations lied more within personal growth, exploration, and straight-up boredom, lending him a sense of honesty. This made her more confident than a mindless lackey, and he certainly strode to the beat of his own drum. He could be a key player for certain, but that depended on how well he could be played. Or rather, how well he orchestrated himself. This man was an asset Ryuuzaki hesitated to play, especially because she hadn’t spoken with him about the matter, but she laid the card on the table regardless.

“There’s a shapeshifter called ‘Facade’ who has already sat in on certain meetings and researched higher-level ranking individuals. He’s one strange motherfucker though, and I don’t know how involved he wants to get… let’s just say that he has been around longer than we have, and has much more experience. Might be tired of war, might want more…” thinking deeply, Rapture considered Facade’s character. She hadn’t originally seen him this far into her plan, but there was no doubt of his usefulness. Whether Weaver would bite or not was another thing, however.

Rapture would be treated to a rare sight of seeing Weaver's eyes show emotion, or atleast widen slightly like a child hearing about a new, amazing toy. She didn't specifically know of Tesla, she hadn't really made any ripples in the underworld and she didn't have a name for Rapture's opponent until now. Her agents could only do so much, and her ninjas required constant supervision. It naturally didn't sit well that she was backing DOMA- but that simply meant that as an enemy, she was entitled to take from them. Maybe one of her other business partners could be put to use for all of his bragging about getting into The Titwns' Tower.

Then her expression fell, her eyes narrowing again at the mention of a "shapeshifter." She only knew the term for what she and her sisters could do, and to a greater extent their biological father. She hadn't the misfortune of having to deal with any outside of her family but what they represented displeased her. Someone who could change their appearance so easily and blend in with crowds like a drop of water in a river was too dangerous of an element. It was kind of the same reason she'd never trust someone like herself, and was the reason she dealt with Red X so sparingly. But since she mentioned them, Weaver suddenly felt anxious. Had they already infiltrated their gang? Was that how Rapture learned enough to come to her? Or was it purely Voodoo's doing? Questions for later, she assured herself. "This is rich coming from me, but I try to avoid dealing with people whose appearance I don't know- even less for people who can easily change it," Weaver admitted simply, not exacyly saying she wasn't interested so much as just her feelings about it. "Someone like that WOULD be useful for helping take them down from the inside," she added to clarify that she was begrudgingly interested in making use of them... in as limited a capacity as she could manage.

Pleased with the more-or-less agreeable answer to bringing Facade to the table, Rapture progressed the conversation. “I can have him here in a matter of minutes if you’d like; then we can really get this meeting going. That is, of course, if you agree,” she noted warily. Weaver still stood as a big variable in her eyes, and the petite powerhouse did not want to earn her ire.

Dynatron’s 'Pulse Power' reverberated from the speakers, electrifying the dance floor with synth-y beats that spread through the unique venue as its patrons moved to wordless tune. Amongst them, a young woman with dark brown, almost-black locks and deep brown eyes swayed, enjoying the eclectic atmosphere while keeping her senses honed on anything of interest. The last time she had this much fun was the roaring nineteen-twenties, but back then she wore a beaded black flapper dress in place of the dark leather piece that donned her toned body. Reaching into her pocket and fishing out a sleek mobile phone, she sent a quick text to see what her partner was up to. Surely, her associate would have come to some agreement by now. A few more measures of music and she was back to dancing, memories of a life one hundred years ago flooding back to her.

A small ping sounded from Rapture’s custom cell, which she promptly ignored; it would undoubtedly be from Facade, most likely checking in. Instead, she kept her attention to Weaver. What the enigmatic individual said next would pave new roads for both herself and the shapeshifter.

Weaver's piercing amber eyes were drawn to the ping for a moment, and for a moment she briefly indulged her... avarice by wondering what make and model it was- was it better than hers? Probably not. "I have a couple potential targets in mind. But I'm not trying to overextend myself. I have something I need to do before I start delving more into getting rid of DOMA," Weaver replied simply, agreeing but admitting she was busy with something else right now. She had recently come across an interesting something from an ambush gone wrong, which she didn't want to risk destroying after learning of the container's security measures. Whatever it was, someone would want it back- and through her contacts she knew who would be interested in it. "After I'm done with that, we can talk more about how to drive DOMA out- with your... shapeshifter," she added, still clearly uncomfortable with being around a shapeshifter. But the use for one was... too valuable to pass up. Imagine all they had to do was just have them take the place of DOMA higher ups... there were plenty of possibilities.

Hearing that Weaver had prior obligations soured the taste in Rapture’s mouth; she wanted results quickly, and waiting was not one of her strong suits. Nonetheless, the need to keep things rosy between the two outweighed her desire for swift justice. At any rate, if things moved too slowly, she could always force her hand and go solo. That being said, she settled for the time being. “Asu no koto o ieba, tenjo de nezumi ga warau,” she noted by way of caution. “That being said, I advise you to contact me quickly. Now that we are comrades, I have something in addition to offer you.” Rapture procured what appeared to be a round, black compact mirror about the size of a person’s palm with a crimson butterfly emblem emblazoned on the top from her kimono pocket. “My communicator. Open it and say my name to get my attention. Simple as that.”

She slid the device across the table, tapping it for emphasis. This was the third time she had given out such an item; the first being to the Teen Titan Raven, of whom she wondered greatly about, especially in this testy time, and the second being the teen superhero Verdant Gale, an unexpected visitor to the Shinto shrine Rapture called home. Perhaps their second meeting could be conducted there, or perhaps that was jumping the gun. One way or another, they would meet again. For now, the petite powerhouse waited for a response.

••••

Translation: Another Japanese proverb. Means “no one knows what tomorrow may bring.”