deadlydelicacy | ☆BACKLOG☆ - Reborn and Bianchi history

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☆BACKLOG☆ - Reborn and Bianchi history

Who: Reborn and Bianchi
What: Their first real mission together
When: Two years before the start of the game. ☆BACKLOG☆
Where: A place a lot like New York

To say Bianchi was nervous would be an understatement. It did not help that she'd been paired with Reborn for this mission and was still trying to decide if it was a test or someone just didn't think she could handle it on her own. None of that was making things easier. And she was pretty sure Reborn remembered her little obsession with him from when she was twelve. Her eyes darted sideways for a moment, the dark fedora hard to see but the orange band blazing even in the dim light. There was no way she'd let on she was on edge. Reborn wouldn't treat her differently and she didn't want someone she had great respect for to think any less of her. It was her job to prove herself regardless of what this evening was about.

Both their heels clicked on the sidewalk as they moved toward the building their target was supposedly inside. The expensive black Ferragamo shoes Reborn wore had a hollower sound from the wider heel. And Bianchi's made that higher pitched, focused sound of a three inch stiletto. Her arm was curled lightly at his elbow and they certainly made a fine looking couple as they approached the gallery, the lights from the building throwing the shadows crossways to those cast by the streetlights outside. The cars passing by threw their own shadows making light dance around dizzyingly. As they grew closer, the bouncer at the door was visible. The show was invitation only but of course they didn't forget that detail, Reborn had the invitation in his jacket, Bianchi's clutch was obviously too small to carry it without having to fold the fine paper. Her eyes lifted up the tower of the building and she took note of the windows that were lit. Then let her gaze fall back to the building looking for other exits. "Looks like quite the party." She murmured, voice lazy more because of effort on her part than any real state of calm. Her hand was just a little tight against Reborn's elbow. Madonna it was like having your teacher by your side while you took the SATs.

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It would have been utterly gauche of Reborn to even mention the importance of the omertà and he wouldn't insult Barelli by saying it; whatever else the man was, he was a professional. He didn't check Bianchi's work either; after all, so was she. He simply opened the door, Alessandro beside him, both of them making a good show of distress as the police hurry over to see what was going on.

Barely half an hour later, they are dismissed along with the rest of the crowd as an ambulance pulls up to the back entrance.

"Well, if you don't need me any longer-" Alessandro started off as if to go in a different direction, only for Reborn to grip his wrist.

"I really don't think so," he said in an almost sweetly reasonable voice. "Until this is entirely over, I don't believe I'll let you out of my sight. Bianchi," he said, his tone reserved and polite, "I think we have some wrongs to redress, don't you?"

Bianchi curled her arm around Reborn's, leaning her head against her arm to look like an exhausted girlfriend while they waited for Barelli to be taken away. Her eyes cut to Alessandro as he started to drift away and she released Reborn's arm to give him movement. She glanced up at Reborn and then over to Alessandro.

Her mouth curled into a slow smile. "I still have the serum if he's not cooperative." She said pleasantly, patting her clutch and watching Alessandro like a cat getting ready to pounce.

"Wonderful," Reborn stated, looking over Alessandro - who stands his ground, more or less - his own slow smile mirroring Bianchi's, even as he lets go of the other man's wrist. "I'm sure you understand where we're coming from, don't you?" He murmured, his tone urbane and almost courteous.

He started to lead them all in the direction of the hotel he and Bianchi had checked into when they'd arrived and left their few necessary items. While they had managed to extricate themselves from the fiasco at the art gallery, there were still about a million ways this could go wrong. They had a lot to plan and prepare for, if this was going to go properly. Things were more than just a little tense after all: in a foreign territory, with their whereabouts known by not-entirely-trusted people,. and a half-willing hostage to deal with as well. A veritable land mine to navigate more or less blindfolded.

"Why don't we go get ready for that then?" He said just under his breath, his smile a little more genuine this time.

Bianchi felt much more ready to fight now that she wasn't in the beautiful dress, she watched as Reborn tucked his phone away and slid her gun into a shoulder holster after checking the saftey. "Well now, Alessandro, isn't this exciting for you?" She looked amused and the man gave her a dark look as he watched them both. He wasn't getting more weapons.

She turned her head to Reborn, seeing him in the reflected light of the mood in the dark room. "They're coming then?" The threat of Barelli as a hostage was a bit of a sticking point so instead they'd informed them the antidote to the poison seeping into his skin was available at the low cost of a personal meeting. And Reborn had just called to give them the location. Now they just had to get into position and wait. They had important things to discuss.

"I can be quite persuasive when the situation calls for it," he said with a little smile, with only the slightest irony. This was going to be an ultimatum situation, after all; no matter what ended up happening, there needed to be reparation for the insult paid to them by these families. They had multiple deaths to answer for, as well as the utter recklessness of involving the civilian authorities in this completely internal affair.

"Would you like me to watch from the window and make sure they don't bring an army?" She asked him pleasantly, "We can get out quickly in that case and deal with them more indirectly if that happens."

"I don't think we have enough time for that," he said, after considering her suggestion briefly. "Considering how behind schedule we are at this point. Besides," he glanced at Alessandro, whose face was carefully neutral, "I believe we can manage to handle an army - it would be a good lesson, in any case." He hefted the weight of his gun, as if testing it. "It's hard to believe they would be so foolish, but this entire trip has been a refutation of intelligence on their part."

Bianchi settled, one hip resting on a table, her gun in easy reach and some cans that looked like perhaps soda nearby. "Well, seems like it will be exciting one way or another then." Her eyes followed Reborn. They were to meet them here and they shouldn't have enough time to really get the lay of the building but this was their town, they might know it already. "Someone should be a taught a lesson at the very least." She agreed, darkly.

"I always endeavor not to be boring," he said with a genuine smile and sets the gun on the table within easy reach.

The building is dark and mostly empty, an old warehouse with bad lighting (just a bare bulb above the single table). There are two intact chairs and very little else in the way of actual furniture. The windows are large, the light flooding in from the street and passing cars just a bit eerie in the night.

Through some contact or other, their opposition had managed to get a hold of Barelli again. To be perfectly frank, Reborn was surprised that they even valued him enough to agree to a risky meeting for an antidote... But wheels within wheels, and likely they felt that there was no way that two foreign operatives working alone could manage to pay back the insult that had been laid down by the powerful local families. So they would be coming into this meeting overly confident and expecting acquiescence - perhaps just a little posturing, for the sake of pride, but we must make allowances for our foreign guests, shouldn't we? After all, Reborn and Bianchi were basically impotent in this little game that was being played out, the sacrificial pawns in the larger chess game; a shame about Marco's death, but he succeeded in setting up the blame. Our excuse is set, we can discard these already used pieces; kill them here or let them go, it doesn't matter which.

Reborn had been playing this game for much longer than any of them. Whether the leaders chose to come alone, as specified, or break the bargain by bringing their support, no one that mattered would be leaving the building alive.

The knock on the door was right on cue.

Bianchi snorted softly and turned her head to look at Reborn's profile in the dim room. No he wasn't boring. She was quiet for a moment, something softening in her expression before the knock came on the door and she snapped her head around to it, face closing back off. She didn't straighten from the table, the only thing that had tensed was her neck as she turned to look, by all other accounts she was settled in a lazy sprawl. Next to her, Alessandro stiffened, a bead of sweat forming at his temple.

Bianchi's voice came out in a lazy purr as she felt her blood warm in excitement. "Shall I play hostess, Reborn?" She offered pleasantly. Offering to welcome the guests, reaching for a can of soda and twirling it on its rim her eyes never left the door but she could see him from the corner of her eye.

"Please do," Reborn said softly, his posture casual, but his gaze is intent as he takes in the room, checking that everything and everyone is in place, from the placement of Bianchi's soda cans to the exact angle of shadow from the pale moonlight flooding through the grimy windows. No doubt their "guests" would have people wandering around the building in search of anything even vaguely suspicious.

Straightening up, Bianchi moved forward in a slow prowl, she could already feel her pulse rate rising as the excitement of a showdown took hold. This was the kind of thing that really got the blood pumping. And she was definitely in predator mode. It took a while to cross the room to the door and she opened it, stepping back before motioning their guests inside with a sweep of her hand. The men were heavily armed as they came in and she continued holding the door open with one hand on her hip as they filed in, eyes half lidded and lips curling up at the corners in a sedate smile. "Welcome, gentlemen, please come in."

When the last one came through she shut the door and turned the lock with a final sounding click that made the last man swirl around with a snarl as she pulled the key out and dropped it into a pocket. "Calm down sugar," She murmured reassuringly, her hand settling familiarly on the arm that was reaching for his gun and stroking down it in a caress, "We just don't want to be disturbed. It would be rude as hosts to let our... important guests be surprised from behind." Her hand fell from his arm and she sashayed back to the table. "There's not much to offer here we were pressed for time but if anyone would like a drink please help yourselves." Her hand trailed along the table until she was back between Alessandro and Reborn, curling an arm around Alessandro's to be sure the man didn't give anything away.

He is impressed by Bianchi's poise and deft handling of the situation, defusing the obvious tension with nothing more than a touch and a few murmured words. He'd expected nothing less, of course, but it was always nice to have his high expectations confirmed. It didn't happen very often, after all.

He watched as the various bosses, subordinates, along with the usual subterfuge of subordinates pretending to be bosses, and vice versa, walked confidently into the room to sit around the plain wooden table, feeling entirely in control of the situation. But it was a brittle confidence, and Reborn had already planned to exploit it.

His usual fedora was tilted forward, his signature dark suit impeccably pressed, his long legs propped up at the head of the table as he sat back in the surprisingly sturdy wooden chair, the perfect picture of easy insolence. He could see as the more hot-headed among the delegation bristled at the insult offered by this calculated gesture. When he judged the timing to be right, he reached for his own can of soda, popped the tab casually and took a sip.

"It's really quite good," he said mildly, when none of the group followed suit, instead watching him suspiciously, and at Bianchi and Alessandro nearby.

"Cut the crap, hit man," one of the men snapped angrily, pushing his offered can out of the way and into the center of the table, where it tilted and overbalanced, falling onto its side. It then rolled, due to a slight tilt, down to tap gently against Reborn's shoe. "Look who your partner is - the Poison Scorpion! Of course we're not going to touch any damn thing you offer us!"

Reborn shrugged and took another sip for himself. "Well, if you didn't want it, you only had to say so."

"We're here to talk terms," another of the group said, with the overblown confidence of a decoy boss overacting in order to persuade. "So talk. We're reasonable people, I'm sure, and we can come to an agreement-"

Bianchi smiled serenely, pressing Alessandro's can toward herself and popping the top before handing it to him. The man swallowed heavily clearly still unsure he should trust her. But she was leaning against his side and he glanced down and picked up the can, lifting it to his lips and downing half the can in a few glugs, like someone jumping into icy water in one go to get it over with.

Bianchi picked up her own can and drank sedately. "Some men are so shy." She murmured, gaze on the man who'd yelled. But her eyes cut like fire toward the man who started grandstanding. She stared at him like he was a worm writhing on the sidewalk. And then after an uncomfortable moment she started laughing. "Reasonable. Aren't they adorable?" She said lightly to Reborn. Her arm left Alessandro's and she reached for her purse, a larger bag now, and guns whipped out as she pulled out a packet of kleenex, a compact and a can of hairspray. She ignored all the weapons and flipped the compact open to dab at her eyes, drying away tears from her laughter.

Reborn met the eyes of each and every person sitting at the table, his expression nonchalant. They were all tense, dealing with the strange situation and unfamiliar operatives, but they were also confident in their own ability. How wrong they were; he would just have to strengthen that incorrect assessment. "Women," he said with an elaborate shrug, and set his near-empty can of soda down while glancing at Bianchi for her signal, though it looked completely natural. "Unfortunately we don't have the facilities to allow her to primp in private here. We are just visiting, after all," he said with the very slightest emphasis. "We had to make do."

One by one, those around the table relax; how foolish of them to be worried about anything happening. Hadn't their security teams cleared the building before they'd even arrived? They had people posted everywhere; no matter what happened, these two wouldn't be able to escape. There weren't any air ducts for things to be piped in from, and they'd even remembered enough to refuse anything offered by the Poison Scorpion!

"Really, darling," he said softly, still watching Bianchi, "couldn't that have waited until later? We do have guests to deal with."

Bianchi set her compact down and smiled sweetly at Reborn. "There is always time to look our best, Reborn. Don't mind me, I believe you had some things you wished to express to our colleagues here." Her compact was put away surreptitiously. It was important for these men to know what they'd done, after all. It was only polite to give them opportunity to repent for their sins.

She patted her hair lightly and sighed. "Very well, when you are finished speaking with the men I will resume." She crossed her legs and sat back waiting patiently, just a woman concerned with her appearance of course. Silly thing. It was a miracle she ever managed a hit herself.

He smiled again, and then looked around the table. His tone of voice is almost pleasant, but the words themselves were far from it. "Imagine my surprise," he began, "to learn that the Families in this city do not respect even the most basic rules of hospitality. We have always been on the best of terms with your operatives, both allied and neutral."

"What business is it of yours?" One of the heads retorted. "We conduct our business our own way, and you foreign-types have no right to-"

Reborn continued as if he hadn't heard. "To drag a completely uninvolved Family into your petty little sandbox power play is not the bending of some obscure protocol to your own ends, but a violation of the most basic courtesy afforded to your fellows. Murdering two visiting operatives in cold blood while in the midst of an approved and beneficial enterprise is more than criminal," his mouth twisted sardonically on the last word, "it's bad manners."

No one spoke up, though quite a few looked quite murderous.

"Luckily," Reborn said, voice soft, but perfectly distinct, "we managed to not get ourselves killed, which means you can make amends."

Bianchi made a soft sound of distaste, lifting the hairspray can and running a finger along the seam thoughtfully. "I find myself quite emotional about the whole thing." She murmured, though for all intents and purposes she seemed perfectly calm. "I get so agitato... so irritated when people try to kill me." Her eyes lifted to one of the men in the room who seemed to be a leader. "It is never wise to upset a woman, they can be so... irrational." She'd search for words occasionally as she translated in her head. It was clear she was anything but irrational right now. Though there was something hot burning in the accusing stare.

"Surely you gentleman know how to fix these things. I was just telling Reborn that I believe the only real way to make amends was to bring forth the guilty parties and execute them as proof this was not something of which the whole organization approved." She sighed, sounding put out, making it clear Reborn had not agreed with this. Even if the whole conversation was made up on the spot. Sometimes it was hard to tell with people of this caliber.

"Since, of course," Reborn picked up from Bianchi's line of thought with a shrug, as if he didn't really care much either way, simply stating a fact of life, "the discourteous actions which we have been subjected to from the moment of our arrival in this lovely city could not possibly stem from an organization-wide conspiracy of..." A delicate pause, "idiocy."

Though no one was rude enough (or stupid enough) to actually outright contradict him verbally, the room suddenly seemed less quiet, the subtle sounds and movements of outrage as loud as an actually spoken message to those who knew how to read the situation.

He took another sip from the near empty can of soda and tossed it behind him carelessly to clatter almost deafeningly in the corner of the room.

"But there are other ways in which you can - will," he corrected himself, his voice so soft as to be nearly inaudible, "will be making your amends to us."

Bianchi scoffed softly at the word idiocy obviously thinking that was exactly what this stemmed from. Her eyes scanned the room as people muttered quietly and shifted, muscles tightening around them. She finished her own drink and set the can aside.

Her eyes slid sideways to Reborn, waiting for his signal. She didn't want to step on his lecture to the masses of morons. And if anyone felt apologetic it would behoove them to listen to the apology. The looks in the room were making that more and more unlikely. "It amazes me, that after being confronted with our situation we still have not received a single word of hospitality." She murmured. "So very very rude."

The reaction to Bianchi's statement was gratifyingly violent and loud, as every single person around the table voiced their outrage and their own threats for retribution. Not a one of them looked repentant, thoughtful, or even slightly frightened by the current situation. It was as he expected, but far less than he had hoped. He hated the idea of reporting back that the entire contingent in this city, which his boss had held hopes of doing business with in the future, was made up of nothing but a group of petty, childish thugs who could not even stop posturing for a moment to see the overall picture.

And to be underestimating a person of his reputation and caliber, even if some of it could be honestly mistaken for mere hearsay and rumor, was just another measure of their lack of judgement.

He made a gesture to Bianchi, their agreed upon signal, while those around the table continue shouting at him, at each other, at their aides to prepare retaliatory measures.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the hairspray can, twisting the lid a quarter turn to the left and the soft hiss of gas escaping was almost impossible to hear over the egos of the men in the room. Alessandro looked sick but set his empty can down and his eyes locked on the can.

She set the can down at the table and sat back, crossing her legs and watching them men yell like it was a very interesting television show. Slowly the men nearest to them began to splutter as their throats began to close. Within moments the yelling and indignation quieted and choked noises were beginning while men grabbed at their necks. Those farthest from the can stood up in surprise, their chairs falling back or over as they gave horrified shouts of dismay and outrage at what was happening to their colleagues.

"Perhaps they should have had a drink." Bianchi murmured in amusement. "Clever boys." The first man to dart for the door yanked at it and started screaming. She sighed and watched him with annoyance. The key still safely tucked away. "Well you still have most of their undivided attention for the next..." she looked at her watch, "Minute and a half?"

"There's very little point, I should think," Reborn said coldly, standing and engaging with one of the half-hearted attempts to attack his person physically; a few blurred movements later and the man is doubled up on the floor, gasping for breath. "Reasoning with them has already proved to be an exercise in futility, as they don't seem to even possess such higher functions."

People were already starting to slump over the nearer they were to the aerosol can. The people at the edges were moving more slowly. "Such a shame. I know some families were looking forward to securing relations here." She didn't look bothered though, "I suppose they'll just have to expand into the territory themselves." She smiled and nudged the fallen man with a foot, then turned her eyes to Alessandro who was crossing himself.

"Nature abhors a vacuum, as they say," he said, his eyes watching as the strongest of the assembled members succumbs to the inhaled poison. "But our work here is done." His gaze is clinical and impersonal as it settled on Alessandro, who is looking clearly terrified. "Save for a few loose ends. What have you to say for yourself?"

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☆BACKLOG☆ - Reborn and Bianchi history

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