Rachel made her way to the opposite building, causing a buzz of talk to follow her. She listened to one of the more noisy groups.
"Hey, did you hear what Allen said?"
"Yeah! They're leaving tomorrow night, but isn't that strange? They caused so much damage."
"Dude, do you know how many people they saved?"
"Of course, but they're still criminals. They killed people without trial; what are they, judge, jury, and executioner?"
"Punisher, man; my favorite hero."
"He's an anti-hero, and that's cool and all in fiction, but seriously … they just killed people in cold blood. They don't even look shaken up about it!"
"Hey, what are you three talking about?"
"Who else?"
"The Mythickin."
"Dude, that's bull! I heard Main Justice is going to go after them."
"Na, there'd be a riot."
"That's not right! It's Main Justice's job, I'm telling you; everyone deserves a trial."
"To be fair, it's Martial Law; if the Military doesn't press charges…"
"Did you even take criminal law? I didn't think so!"
"You're like one of two people I've heard on their case about it."
"Totally, I think they did what was needed, but yeah, it's not something you should condone…"
"Y'all crazy; desperate times."
"You're not an agent; you're an office worker."
"Does that discount my opinion, or Ivan's? He's not an agent."
Rachel sighed, tuning out the group.
I'm glad things are dying down. Eventually, the pardon will become common knowledge; some people even think we're going to disappear tonight, and the Military's going to keep us in some black site. There isn't a shortage of rumors. Many are hearing about the conditions the people in South Beach were in, though, and that's turning a lot of opinions.
Instead of taking the crowded elevators, she walked downstairs, making it outside; she transferred buildings. It was quicker this way, but the front checkpoint guards stopped her.
"Eh, what is your business in this building?" One of the two guards on duty asked; he was in his mid-forties and was relatively large.
She responded promptly, looking the man square in his brown eyes. "I'm here to see the Legendkin, Anthony. I've been given the green light by Special Agent In-Charge, David. You may contact him to confirm."
The man nodded, eyeing her suspiciously. "I'll do that."
Rachel walked a little back to the side of the main traffic area, keeping her posture lax and unassuming. Maybe I should have come with an escort or through the other building's bridging point. I am in an FBI facility; of course, they'd be suspicious about a glowing girl with long ears poking around.
She studied the area a bit more closely as she waited; this was the central building of the three facilities making up this branch of the FBI. Two of the buildings were large and modern-looking; one-sided glass windows surrounded the sleek design, and there was a concrete path running down its center that went to a jogging area. The scenery along the track seemed nice from what she'd seen with a large pond, benches, and greenery.
She'd entered the administrative building where Ruth's office was; it was by the massive parking lot. The front entrance didn't have any seating area before the first checkpoint; if you weren't supposed to be there, they didn't want you to loiter. Further access to the building was restricted by a single entrance, guarded by two members of the FBI security team.
Rachel saw a few tired people leaving through one of the two exit points; they gave her tired but strange looks as they moved through the single handle doors.
Everyone must be working hard; I bet most people haven't even gone home since The Oscillation occurred. I have heard about many agents sleeping in the halls or their offices. I didn't expect civil servants to be so dedicated, but I suppose they entered law enforcement for a reason, and it's no different than the police or military. Everyone's working on getting everything under control.
She listened to the man as he called David, her eyes still taking in the beautiful architecture and arranged foliage. The front of the building had palm trees and a large pond with several agents standing guard around the property.
"This is Brad, with the front desk. I have a girl with bunny ears here, saying her name's Rachel. She's saying she's been given access to the administrative building and that you gave her clearance."
David's voice held an edge of exasperation. "Yes, I did … Rachel, you should have gone through the other building's bridge. They're connected. Let her by."
Rachel smiled apologetically at the guard. She walked back to the men, saying, "Thank you, and tell David I'm sorry. I'll remember that next time; I just thought it would be faster to meet Anthony this way since he's on the first floor now."
The second guard stiffened at her approach, but the other man held up his hand as she went through the metal detector without incident. Walking further into the building, she passed a few branching hallways, moving to the downstairs cafeteria. Many of the personnel were giving her questioning looks, but again, no one questioned why she was there.
Maybe I should have asked for a temporary suit I could wear to fit in. Although, I suppose that would cause an even bigger uproar; people might think I was made an agent, and I'd need to cut a place for my tail in the dress shirt and pants … the owner wouldn't like that…
Her thoughts wandered back to her group as Maëlle hummed curiously, standing at the desk by the window; her ears twitched involuntarily as she slowed to a stop.
"Hey, Scarlet, what are these? Oh, non-disclosure documents; very official … what are these for?"
"That's private!" Scarlet quickly moved to snatch the folders from her hands, but the Succubus had already flipped through them. She paused at Scarlet's words, but she'd already seen the pardons.
"My … can your President really do that, and you guys know him?"
Scarlet took the folders back with a low grown. "Umm … no, we don't know him; I've seen the President do that in movies, too."
"Huh," Maëlle sat in a chair. "So, you guys are doing some kind of thing for the government? That sounds fun! Can I join? I mean, I don't think I've done anything worth being charged, so I won't need a Presidential Pardon."
A few minutes previous, Scarlet had to return to the breakroom to find a punch bowl. Maria only partially paid attention to their conversation as she instructed Bree on how to mix the alcohol.
"Eh—no, I don't think it's something you can do with us, chica. It's half a bottle of the one-fifty-one, then add one cup of the Malibu Rum before filling up the rest of the bowl with pineapple juice."
"I'm not a big drinker," Bree mumbled, "but this stuff smells pretty strong. You guys actually got a Presidential Pardon? Crazy."
"That's the point!" Maria chuckled. "You gotta mix enough pineapple juice to make it good and not too strong, though. Yeah, you don't have to worry about it. Rachel handles that stuff."
Maëlle sighed as she sat beside the window. "Why can't I join? I'll sign whatever. I don't care what it is; it just seems like fun."
Is being curious and pushy a part of being a Succubus? It might just be her personality as Kyle appears to be a lot more subdued and quiet; of course, Succubus and Incubus are similar, but not the same. Her seeing those pardons also opens up a bigger issue. I don't think she missed it either; she'll ask. Can the others handle the question?
Fiona moved over to her as she spoke. "How can it sound like fun? You don't even know what we're doing."
Maëlle's tone was bright. "Well, you all sound fun; I mean, Federal Pardons for all of you? I'd love to hear the story behind that! I do know a little, but the juicy details escape me."
"You—were all criminals?" Kyle's tone held concern as he moved a bit away from Maria.
"No, no, it's not like that!" Fiona assured. "We're like—like liberators."
"No?" Maëlle hummed pleasantly, tapping the desk with one of her fingernails. "What kind of liberators need pardons? Sounds like the fun kind!"
Maria shifted a little in her chair. "Hey, Bree, is it confidential or something, or can we tell them?"
"Some of the general details should be fine; as far as I know, the News is already circling a lot of information."
"Right," Maria chuckled. "Well, sorry, Fiona, but we are kind of criminals … to The Law anyways. Did we do anything wrong, though? Na. We killed a bunch of terrorists that were doing some messed up shit, and now the Military wants us to do some shit for them. Simple as that."
Maëlle's interested hum followed. "How fascinating! So, you've all killed people. How do you feel about that, Kyle?"
"Even—even you?" He asked with concern.
Rachel assumed he directed it at Scarlet. She frowned while scooting to the side of the hall; several people passed her with hesitant glances.
Why does this always happen when I leave? I guess they're handling it pretty well; Maria's honesty and blunt way of speaking has its ups and downs. Maëlle's probably heard about us killing people; she's been talking to a lot of agents, trying to get as much information as possible. She's looking for something out of this … but what?
Is she trying to create tension? It wouldn't be to feed since it's not sexual—unless ... Scarlet could feel quite stressed about Kyle not liking her. That's one option.
Another is that she's actually interested in joining us. Perhaps, she wishes to get in on such a deal to get out of the FBI's watch. I can't see her skillset being that useful to us, though. If I was there, I could gain a lot more information about her abilities. Still, I doubt she'll be qualified to join us.
A third option is that she's actually interested in us. She wants to know more about Mythickin, just as much as we want to know about the changes we've experienced.
Of course, she could be using this to wedge a barrier between Scarlet and Kyle because she likes Kyle … I wouldn't put it past her with how she reacted when touching him. She's all about pleasure, and if that stimulated her in the right ways...
Scarlet stammered into the conversation. "W-well, I mean—there were a bunch of kids that were being held captive—they were being killed and experimented on. We had to do something, and they were—horrible—evil people."
"So—you killed them?" Kyle muttered.
"Just the ones that … well—I guess we did kill most of them. Yes," she mumbled uncertainly.
"Well," Maria huffed, "I didn't kill anyone, but if I could, I would have."
Mick spoke up. "For real?"
"You kiddin' me?" Maria directed at him. "Damn straight; anyone who puts a hand on my brother better be willin' to pay the consequences. Cause and effect, ya' hear? They kidnapped my hermanito and all those other children they ate and butchered. You tellin' me you wouldn't kill someone that told you they ate kids, experimented on them, and planned to do it again while having kids as hostages in front of your face? If so, then you ain't a man."
"I'm right there with you!" Fiona growled. "If anyone touched my little sister, then they deserve to be roasted alive."
The silence that stretched seemed to last longer than it did, and Serah walked in as Maëlle replied. "I couldn't agree more, Maria. Inaction is compliance, after all." She giggled.
Maria clicked her tongue. "See, she gets it!"
"What's going on?" Serah asked.
Rachel sighed, scratching her left ear while filtering out the conversation. Maëlle's one to keep an ear on, but the others should be able to handle it. They need to learn how to respond to someone like her.
She walked into the cafeteria, adding a pleasant smile as she swept the area with her broad vision. They mainly had the cafe for office staff, and it showed with how many people were around. She suspected that it wasn't usually open in the dead of night, but The Oscillation had everyone pulling overtime.
There were a few dozen tables around, and the ample space could be cleared, making it an excellent all-purpose zone. Her glowing eyes spotted Anthony almost instantly; he was in the back corner with a male agent that was a bit shorter than him, which was impressive, but the strange thing was the fantasy-like spear leaning against the edge of the wall to his left.
She judged that Anthony was at least six-one, maybe a little taller, was in perfect shape, and was far above most men in looks.
His fire-red hair almost seemed to burn with the bright overhead lights, and his dazzling green eyes instantly moved to study her when she came through the doorway, picking her out of the crowd. He had no facial hair, but she suspected he could grow it if he wanted; he looked like he belonged on the cover of Men's Health magazine.
Despite his dashing appearance, his clothes told her a different story. He was wearing a fitted plaid vanilla and tan button-up dress shirt and dark gray dress pants held by a black belt. He wore an unfastened white fitted medical coat over his shirt that dropped to his knees, and his black shoes were polished. The glint of a gold ring on his wedding finger instantly caught her attention.
The elegant seven-foot-tall spear next to him was anything but ordinary; its shaft was white, and it appeared to glow on its own. The butt had a point, wrapped with some kind of metal decoration. The golden head of the weapon was elegant, showing an intertwined design connecting it to the shaft. It certainly looked like a holy artifact.
Brow creased, he leaned toward the agent eating beside him. "Duncan, is that one of those Beastkin you were telling me about?"
Rachel held her casual smile as she weaved through the maze of tables and people, long white hair swaying around her. He watched her approach with a mildly curious smile playing on his smooth lips.
Duncan cleared his throat as he glanced at Anthony. "What do—son of a…" He almost choked as he caught sight of her. Pounding his chest, he quickly regained his composure. "The hell are you doing here, Mythickin?"
"Mythickin?" Anthony hummed, eyebrow lifting as he appraised her.
Rachel's smile turned slightly forced as she approached the table. She held her hands in front of her as she stopped. "Am I really that frightening? I obtained permission from David to see Anthony; I suppose he is fairly busy. If you'd like, you can confirm it … I feel a little bad, making everyone interrupt him."
"To see me?" Anthon asked. "You've caught my attention. Of course, with looks like yours, it's hard to imagine any man brushing you off."
"That's flattering," Rachel giggled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were hitting on me."
His smile turned dashing. "You're the one that came to me, and it's a fairly obvious deduction. From your eyes to your ears to that tail, I noticed while you were walking … never mind the grace in your posture." He muttered, sweeping her with his eyes. "I think you have excellent control over your body."
"What an interesting way to introduce yourself," Rachel mused. "You're far more comfortable than I thought you'd be. Although, I did hear that you taught lessons on using pole-based weapons. You'd need to have your wits about you to meet new clients. May I join you?"
"Hold up," Duncan mumbled, dialing David's number, but before he could even ask the question, David answered the call and responded.
"Yes, Duncan, I was just about to call you. Rachel is perfectly fine going about her own business, so long as she's not interrupting workflow, then let her be."
"Eh—got it," but David had already hung up to continue reporting to Ruth. "Alright, then…" He mumbled.
"He's speaking to the Assistant Director at the moment," Rachel said with an apologetic expression.
Anthony smoothly got up to offer her a chair across from them. "I suppose we'll be making each other's acquaintance."
Rachel's lips turned into a playful smirk as she took the seat he was offering. "You know, many girls these days would see that as a statement of female weakness and take offense to be offered a chair."
He effortlessly scooted it in before returning to his own. "I'm a stickler for polite behavior," Anthony chuckled. "And I don't particularly enjoy conversing with those types of girls."
"Strong-willed?"
"Egotistical and desperate for attention that they take polite behavior as diminutive propaganda. The hypocrisy is what irks me the most; they don't want equality; they want their moment in the spotlight or to rant about some disconnected issue."
Rachel crossed her legs, keeping her hands folded in her lap. "So, you're a gentleman?"
"You could attribute polite behavior as gentlemanly," he let go of an amused laugh, "but I have no qualms against hitting a woman that strikes me or ignoring a brat. It's not what most people I've seen call gentlemanly; I'm simply civil. Are you one of those women that think there are no differences between the sexes?"
"I like that; being civil to one another and not taking abuse are two different things entirely. However, no; I do believe there are clear differences between men and women. I've fought both men and women and can attest to the differences personally." She said with a short sigh.
"Yes, it's unscientific to think otherwise," he responded before taking a sip of the glass of water in front of him. "Although—I suppose The Oscillation has changed many aspects to that scenario. Before, there was no possible way a woman could reach the same heights of physical prowess as a man using the same methods. It's simply a biological fact; however, The Oscillation does seem to add an interesting twist to that equation. Take you, for example."
"Me … what do you know about me?" Her smile turned curious as she licked her lips and brushed her hair back, noticing a slight discoloration under his right eye.
Is he using makeup to cover up something? That's interesting.
Anthony folded his arms while crossing his legs. His head tilted slightly as he said, "Your behavior, for one, and the way people carry themselves is fundamental when sizing up an opponent.
"I could tell by the way you moved through the crowd and tables that your vision is much broader than a normal human, or you could have a perfect memory, perhaps both. You instantly took notice of me, showing you have sharp eyes and a quick mind. You're clearly intelligent and in control of your emotions by your responses.
"Moving back to your posture, you believe in your strength. I think you could dash in any direction on the drop of a dime; I haven't seen anyone near the balance and control you showed me when walking this way.
"I don't think all that confidence comes from The Oscillation either; my suspicion was heightened by your response of fighting both men and women. Yes, I have noticed a change in my own demeanor since The Oscillation, but it isn't enough to completely alter my past behaviors. Although, I do think this change brings out a bit of our deeply rooted desires. Don't you think?"
Rachel could feel her heart's pace picking up as he spoke; he was sizing her up the moment she entered the room. She didn't get the scent of fear or the touch of caution in his voice that she'd come to expect from someone meeting a Mythickin. This was the type of tingling she felt when facing Conner.
"Astute observations. I'm curious, why have your spear out, and why are you dressed in a lab coat?"
He looked down at his clothes, plucking at the fold of his lab coat. "This thing? Ah, well," he chuckled, "I was still working when The Oscillation happened. I lived in Nashville Tennessee and worked as a Chemist; I assisted the Supervisory Chemist in complex sampling and analytical procedures and techniques, interpreting hazardous chemical substances exposure data; analytical laboratory quality assurance; and, helped him represent the company to other government agencies, the private sector, or international inquiries on technically related issues."
"Sounds complicated, but saying lived and worked," Rachel mused. "That's changed then, and what about teaching pole-based weapon combat?"
"You're as sharp as I thought, perhaps more." He grinned. "Yes, well—there aren't that many people that want to learn advanced weapon skills; most people prefer traditional martial arts. It's more of a hobby; teaching can help you learn in which areas you lack.
"My home," for the first time, his lips fell with a sigh. "Several motorhomes were burnt down by some person that got fire-based powers. Sadly, I don't have fire insurance; so, not much I can do about that, and I know the guy that did it. It was an accident, and he's dirt poor.
"My job … Legendkin don't have the best rep, at the moment, I'm sure you can relate. I told my boss what happened, and he said it would be best to play it by ear, and well, I'm not much into maybe's, so I quit. He must have alerted the police, because shortly after, they found me, and sent me here."
He shrugged. "What can you do?" Smile returning, his eyes moved down her body. "What about yourself? Gym clothes make for interesting casual attire; I suspect these aren't from your normal wardrobe by the tight fit."
"Who has sharp eyes?" Rachel giggled. "My story's a bit more complicated, and you haven't told me about your spear."
He didn't mention his wife or a fiancé. Why?
Anthony's head tilted the opposite way, messy red hair shifting with the motion as he settled into his chair. "If I tell you everything about me, then what else do I have to bargain with; isn't it more fun to exchange stories than being a one-way voice box?"
I can't believe how much I'm enjoying this! He's mysterious but open, and he knows how to keep the conversation interesting. What kind of woman was able to catch his interest? I almost feel a bit guilty thinking it, but he's honestly not bad to look at either.
She suppressed a laugh at Duncan's rolling eyes as he returned to his dish.
Yes, I can imagine what you're thinking. Still, this is the stimulating situation I've been craving!
"It's not a pretty story. Do you really want to hear it?"
He bit lightly at the left corner of his bottom lip, eyes narrowing. "A beautiful woman can make any story compelling."
"Ah, but are you truly listening to the story if your mind is centered on her looks?" Rachel asked, ears drooping to the left side as she smirked.
"Can't a man enjoy both? Grizzly stories can be the most gripping when told from such beautiful lips. It makes the contrast so much more succulent."
"Are you sure you're not the Incubus?" Rachel asked with a teasing laugh. "I can't imagine many men being able to speak so naturally in such a manner."
Anthony's smile grew. "Am I that charming?"
"Your wife is a lucky woman."
"I don't know about that," Anthony whispered, lifting his left hand to twist his ring. "What about you? Surely you must have a string of charming men lining up to put a ring on that delicate finger?"
Did he have a nasty divorce, or did something happen to his wife? He blames himself for something. He can't be more than twenty-three years old; that's young to be a Chemist and weapons instructor. He hasn't mentioned his wife at all, and when I bring it up, he shows regret and sadness. Can I coax it out of him … maybe, but that could sour the mood.
"No, I was too focused on my studies to have a relationship."
"Studies? Are you enrolled in college?"
"I was enrolled at Miami University, but I can relate to your job issues; I'm fairly certain that there will be some problem with me returning. I believe Mythickin have a worse reputation than Legendkin, at least for the moment."
"What were you studying?"
"Law; I was interested in becoming a lawyer for the Private Sector."
"Ah, the leeches of society—as some might say."
"Oh, you don't like lawyers?"
He shrugged, shifting his legs in the opposite direction. "I suppose you could say I have bad experiences with them, but that's beside the point. You can't judge every lawyer the same; that'd be illogical. You said was interested, meaning something else has taken its place."
"Maybe," Rachel hummed thoughtfully, looking to the right at a couple of agents that glanced their way. "I can't really plan for my future right now; everything's kind of up in the air. What about your plans?"
He smirked. "Are we going to keep skirting the topic, or are you going to tell me your story?"
"My story," Rachel sighed. "I was in my dorm room when The Oscillation occurred, and things grew a bit wild in Miami. There were gangs, prison, and mental facility breakouts; people's dark desires bubbling up to take advantage of the chaos … it was mayhem for a bit. Although, I heard a few parts in London got pretty bad with a few Beastkin that went on a killing spree."
"Changing the subject again?" Anthony asked, resting his hands against his thighs.
"Just drawing a contrast. I went to the CDC outpost and was sent to two researchers at one of the local hospitals with another Mythickin. We were attacked a few times, and then another Mythickin's brother was kidnapped…"
"Hold up," Anthony said, lips curving into a frown. "It'll get confusing if you just keep jumping between multiple Mythickin; is it possible for you to identify them in some way?"
"I can give you names, I suppose," Rachel offered. "Scarlet and I were attacked on our way to the hospital; I found out later he was one of the inmates at the local penitentiary that broke out."
"How eventful, and Scarlet's an interesting name," Anthony commented with an amused smile.
"Her parents were interesting people … anyways, Maria's brother was captured by a local gangster with ties to the Cartel. He wanted Maria to heal him and used her brother as leverage. We chose to rescue him. It wasn't the smartest choice, to be honest, but seemed like the best option we had, and it turned out that the conditions of South Beach were worse than we thought."
"Ah," Anthony nodded. "Alright, yes, I heard a bit about the South Beach incident." He sucked on the roof of his mouth a few times. "So—that was your group. I heard about the hostages, and Duncan mentioned some of the horrid experiments they've discovered."
"A lot of it's circling," Duncan muttered, glancing up at her. "I also heard about the damages you Mythickin caused."
"Oh? You haven't told me that part." Anthony shifted to get a better view of him.
Duncan shrugged. "I try not to read too much into rumors."
"What have you heard?" Rachel asked with an innocent grin.
"Just some things about destroyed property … bodies, and the like."
"Bodies?" Anthony questioned with raised eyebrows.
A dark grimace replaced Rachel's smile as she recalled the incident. "Yes, well, when you have kids strapped to tanks and guns held to their heads or knives to their throats, then things can escalate. There were even children being used as food, so, yes, I did what I thought was necessary. I did rip apart that tank, and I was thrown through three buildings in a fight against one of Terrell's hired men. It was a fairly intense encounter." She finished with a strained grin.
"Is that right?" Anthony mumbled. "Thrown through three buildings, and you look that gorgeous? Do you have invincibility or something similar … perhaps healing?"
Her smile returned. "Would you like to find out?"
"Woah—huh?" Duncan's head snapped up.
Anthony's perfect teeth flashed. "You're a handsy girl, eh?"
"Handsy, how do you figure?" Rachel's smile was unassuming.
"Just listening to your story tells me enough; I'd even say you enjoy playing rough. Is this the real reason why you came here? Don't tell me the guy that threw you through those buildings was a Legendkin?"
"As it happens, he was a Legendkin!" Rachel said with a bright smile, ears leaning to the side.
He ran a hand through his red hair with a forced grin. "I see—and am I the limp punching bag alternative?"
"Preferably not limp; I like my punching bags to have a spring to them." She winked before giggling. "No, it's not like that, and I don't know about being handsy, but I would like to test your skills. You were a master at pole-based combat, right? It's interesting that you'd turn into a Legend that uses a spear."
Stretching out his fingers and neck, Anthony chuckled. "I'll be your spring-loaded punching bag, then. You're not wrong about questioning our change; I wondered that myself. I suspect you're own change centered on something to do with your lifestyle. I do need some good practice, and it would be fun to spar with a supposed Myth. What will the rules be?"