Down time

[Bradyn Zachariah]

Define down time.

It was when the persona known as Haven would be placed under wraps, allowing Nita Shantel to roam free. One and the same? Hardly. Two sides of the same coin. The most apt description would be the *Heroes* Nikki/Jessica scenario, only more extreme. There was no internal struggle with these two. Each knew their place, and used this ... secret to their advantage. Not even her employers at the Corporation were aware of the dual identities that resided inside the woman. Save one.

The Project Director, Eric Von Silverman.

She was his ... Personal creation, his pride and joy. Haven was the result of ultimate DNA splicing from a project that had been shelved over a decade ago. Silverman had been hired as one of the latest batch of Genetic Scientist to work under Dr. Christian Christ.

No one had knew where Dr. Christ had obtained the samples, but they were nothing of like he had ever seen. Christian would soon entrust him with .... Certain knowledge, and when Project Phoenix Restoration was shut down for mysterious reasons, it was swept under the rug, to be forgotten over time, with the exception of Silverman.

He would work in secret for the next ten years, travel across the world and beyond it, biding his time until he received word of Project Genesis. They would provide him with the resources he needed, he would provide them with knowledge of bridging the gap in creating the perfect soldier. Unlike Project Phoenix Rising, he was now working alongside those from other worlds, with great concepts of the human body, alien or otherwise.

Haven would be presented following the defection of Arianrhod Baine, as an upgrade, the bugs worked out. All involved were pleased with the overall results. Silverman knew the true reason why.

As did Haven.

The irony? Haven wasn't the one that needed to be watched out for. She was the ... Sane half. Nita Shantel was the Le Fem Fatale Extreme. The quiet mousy librarian glasses wearing type. Her voice was soft, she often spoke in hushed tones. Porcelain skin offering more to that fragile facade she presented.

Whereas Haven was more hands on, Nita prided herself on being the cerebral assassin. Both only trusted one person in their life. Silverman. Their creator. Their savior. Their lover. Silverman never placed any restraints on them, allowing the pair free reign was a dangerous tactic, but also a crafty one. Unconditional trust. Who else would offer such an olive branch?

There would be no implant memories, no false past. They knew of their origins, as well of their creators. They knew the existence of each other, and learned to coexist, learning to utilize the strengths of the other. And that was as *normal* as they would get.

Where Haven got off on killing her victims, Nita preferred self exploration. There was no one that knew her body better than she did, and she knew where she liked to be touched, and how. using such knowledge, she would often seduce her other half, where if any were present to witness such an erotic sight, haven would be seen as a woman that was addicted to pleasing herself.

A lot.

It was Haven that finally convinced Nita that she needed to get out, let her hair down, and what better place than the Crimson Tryst? Promises of this was *not* a mission, but simply ...

Down time.

Exit Haven, enter Nita. A final check in the mirror, as Haven smiled at her in the reflection. "You look good enough to eat." Wrapping her arms around Nita, kissing the side of her neck. "Mmmmm, you better cut that out Haven, unless I take you up on that offer, and I'll won't make it to the Crimson tonight." Her nipples were becoming erect, becoming clearly visible through the silk dress which shaped itself to every curve of her body, Haven released her arms around Nita's waist with some reluctance, leaning against the wall with a playful pout.

"Careful, Hun. Venom sees you in that dress and ..."

"That Neanderthal even looks at me wrong, I'll make what that Bobbit woman did to her man seem like a walk in the park."

[Bradyn Zachariah]

Their's was what one would call a unique partnership. Kindred spirits created from Project Genesis, forged into a lethal assassin tandem, dubbed Smoke and Mirror. Separate the duo were deadly in their own right, but when paired together???

They were violence personified.

Following their defection from The Corporation, the tandem evolved into a mercenary partnership, becoming two sides of the same coin, in more ways than one.
Until that fateful night at the Crimson Tryst where a dare was offered. A challenge given. A line that was finally crossed. There would be no turning back. No regrets.

Right?

He had not heard from/encountered Arianrhod Baine since their conversation following that night of shared heated passion within the Tryst. Had he pushed her too far? There were always concerns of if she would let go, whether Arianrhod could reign those near uncontrollable forces that run rampant inside her.

He wouldn't crowd her, it wasn't his style. They had an understanding, and when push came to shove, she knew where/how to find him. Still, sitting front row, at a MMA event, he may have looked totally engrossed at what was happening in front of him, but the images/memories still burned inside his mind like it had just happened mere hours ago, instead of weeks.

The scent of her still lingered, the taste of her mouth, the warmth of her embrace, the heat, the wetness. It was nothing like he had ever experienced .... At least since his rebirth. During this time Bradyn had not been idle, using resources at his disposal to contact Brehnic's resident hacker and creating a new identity for himself, complete with all the bells and whistles. Brehnic bragged that she was the best money could buy, and by the end of their task, he was .... Impressed. He'd add a nice bonus to her bank account as well.

Bradyn Zachariah was gone ... Erased, untraceable. Save for those back at the Corporation. This was just another in many steps in distancing himself from his former creators ...

Enter Chikae Tameron.

<font color="#a62a2a" size="1">[ August 23, 2007 02:59 PM: Message edited by: ekomS ]</font>

[Bradyn Zachariah]

Chikae was aware of the other members of Brehnic's mercenary squad, the Rogues Gallery, having worked with them on several occasions. But when DeSanto sent him front row seats for the hard to scalp, $1000.00 to start, Underground MMA event? Needless to say, the man was there.

A short bike ride later, he spotted DeSanto waiting inside the lobby area, chatting it up some other ... *Underground patrons.* making his approach just as DeSanto was finishing up his conversation, the pair shook hands.

" Glad you can make it man!! DeSanto exclaimed, along with a slap on the back. You're not going to find no other talent this raw ANYwhere on the local circuit, and I figured you'd like to get ... A bird's eye view. " DeSanto knew he'd never get an actual comment from Smoke, the guy was one of those *actions* speak louder than *words* type people, and he respected that.

Glancing around from someone else for a few moments, DeSanto redirected his gaze back at Smoke. " I was ... figuring Mirror be with you, thought she'd enjoy an evening of some mindless violence." A rare smile emerged on those dusky features of Chikae. He knew what DeSanto really meant, not that he could blame the guy. She had that effect on people. DeSanto would get a mild shrug of the shoulders, before the P. A. announcer began telling those that had not already made their way inside the arena to begin to do so at this time.

These underground bouts were about one of few places Chikae felt ... At ease. There's no way the Corporation would be stupid enough to try something in a place like this ... The lights were dimmed shortly after as the ring girls made their way down, as the undercard was underway. Chikae was probably the only focused person in the arena, save for those that were exchanging wages for the main event, and DeSanto, who would be challenging the winner of that same main event a month from now.

There was no need for the bias media hype, the Underground itself provided all the necessary promotion it needed.

[ShatteredMirror]

<font color="blue">"Mirror...Mirror... on the wall."

Grunt. She really hated that Snow white parody of her life. She was hardly such a creation. Running solo. Something had snapped and hardened the vicious creation. Ice blue eyes slitted, a furious snarl escaping her.

Sometimes the blood disgusted her. Sometimes it thrilled her.

Fingers bloodied by the recent torture event flexed around the katana. Leather boots stepped ever so daintily over the headless corpse of her recent -toy- or victim...or target. Call it what you will.

Something had snapped within her. Her soul had grown chaotic and those eyes were dead to the world. Empty of all humanity it seemed. Nothing but the beast and the killer raged within her soul.

Strangely indifferent. Chillingly frozen to her recent kill. The death rate was spiraling into high numbers. She exited the room and slammed the door shut behind her, allowing a curt nod to the landlady as she stared at the apartment that Mirror had exited.

Funny thing that. The old crone had figured that Mirror and her Target were lovers. Whatever they wanted to believe.

"Have a lovely night."

Her tone was frosty. Nordic tundra of ice on her tongue. She smiled like an angel of hell that had filled her redemption card. Luckily the katana had been cleaned on gloves prior to her exit.

Of course there was not one fingerprint left. Not one spot to show she was there. Gloves were peeled off and shoved into her bag.

They'd be burned later.

Cellphone flipped open and the familiar numbers pressed.

"It's done. Wire the money."

Snap of cellphone shut and it was tossed into a trash can. No one would be able to track her as it was.

Fingers pressed at her skull as she headed for her next appointment. A true appointment this time...a date with the therapist for the Operation. Some days Mirror wanted to behead that annoying bitch too.

Teeth gritted as that agony and fury and chaos raged and clawed at her skull. Freedom and Apathy...and Balance. She craved it... but she couldn't go back.

"Smoke."

Brief there was a crack in Mirror of her eyes. Agony. Loss. Remorse.

Then she screamed out into the night. No... she had to forget him. They told her so.

Better off alone</font>

[ShatteredMirror]

<font color="blue"> "Anderson? Damn it where are you?" The phone was snapped shut after the last voicemail was left. Teeth were bared before she was closing her mouth, jaw gritting with frustration.

Anderson had become her only stable connection the last resource. She felt shame and guilt and such odd feelings since the last time she had been near Smoke. That wasn't how their partnership was supposed to work.

She knew that. Never get involved. Was that not the rule ingrained in her? Head first never heart.

Her image was altered. A waif like creature now with mousy brown hair and tortoise shell glasses. So studious. Anyone who saw her would assume that she was just visiting Anderson after hours for some college advice. Wasn't he a psychologist now. Well that was his day job.

She knocked a few times at his door, the georgia twang of her new image drawling out his name till finally frustration got the best of her.

Mental -push- offered suggestion and the door clicked open. The scene before her was not the luxury she was used to in Anderson's abode. A gasp of horror and she nearly screamed. Fingers tightened into a fist and she bit down on her knuckles.

Gloved hands slammed into a priceless artifact scattering the shattered remains around her. Her voice was screaming in her head. Beating against the walls of her thoughts.

The scene was worse then her work ever could have offered. So much rage...

Venom.

The realization left her snarling, frosty blue eyes blazing to a feral gold as the beast snarled within her.

"I... will avenge you... my..."

Friend. She couldn't say it. A grunt as she closed her eyes. The impulse of nausea ran rampant through her system and ran it's course as she lost the contents of her stomach in the toilet. Flushed down the remains.

He had been quartered...his blood a new massacre masterpiece of artwork to splatter the walls... his head impaled on the sharpened bed post of his luxorious king size bed.

It was a sign. Venom had lost control... and it was only a matter of time before he was after her...and after... him.

Smoke.

A gut wrenching horror raised through her system and she fled the room. Running and altering her appearance when she could to lose the track. The hunt.

She found herself at the deserted ruins of the place where she was -born-

Wide eyed she entered. Deathly quiet. She was a predator stalking prey... only to find her own old cell.

Collapsing into it. Huddled into a corner. Pressed against it.

She felt safe... safe in her insanity... slowly losing the grip of all she had been and all she had known...

Her voice screamed within her head. Help me... but she heard nothing...her eyes just blank mirrors to reflect what one dared to see.

themself. </font>

[Bradyn Zachariah]

A year later ...

They were dubbed the Grifter effect, due to when the two of them fought back to back? The body count was VERY high. The final piece was what had gone missing until fate would split one deadly pairing, causing an opening that would eventually be filled.

The reconditioning would be the hardest part of the whole scenario, as they would practically have to start over from scratch.

Dr. Silverman loved a challenge.

Untested drugs would be pumped into any normal human being would cause a massive shut down of all mental functions, while the desire to survive maintained that flicker of life.

They had come a long way since the original project, new methods, quicker results. This time Dr. Silverman would not unleash the finish product until he was satisfied. Countless scenes, situations and scenarios were ran until the complete rate was in the high ninety percentile range.

The injected nanites had done their job, rewiring the collective consciousness one DNA strand at a time. The pain centers had been fused with replicant strands from Project Phoenix Restoration, the bonding process was a complete success.

Recent field test had also showed improvement up to a 99.7% The next phase would consist of extensive virtual training, a select program developed by Haven herself. Venom continues to be unaware, and once the project is deemed a final success, he may become ...

Expendable.

The board is very happy with the results, a building block of what we had established many years ago, and it was well worth the millions of dollars invested.

Yes, Mirror was still out there, but now we had finally evened the playing field. The double doors would slide back, as our latest agent stepped through them.

He stared at them all with little or no emotion within dark brown eyes. Arms would wrap around his neck as Haven's alter ego Nita kissed him on the side of his neck, purring ...

"He is as ready as he'll ever be, Dr. Silverman. Every virtual scenario we put him through, he passed with flying colors. Mirror won't be a problem, isn't that right baby???

Smoke slowly looked at his partner, a smirk appearing on his face.

<font color="#a62a2a" size="1">[ December 05, 2008 07:41 AM: Message edited by: ekomS ]</font>

[ShatteredMirror]

<font color="blue">

"Get it together."

A hiss, snarling at her own weakness. Never had Mirror been this way. She was as frozen as ice after all.

Emotionless.

Hands smoothed through her hair with precision. The old quarters still would hold some of her things were once she had hid them.

A silver corset designed with winter snowflakes was paired with black vinyl pants and blue leather boots that slid up to her thighs.

Well broke into she knew the attire would never make a sound when she moved.

Anderson was dead and it was time to hunt down, track, and kill the man who she knew had once been a friend and a confidant.

Venom.

His name in her thoughts left her eyes to flint like steel.

She knew her destination before she was even headed that way.

The red light district.

Wouldn't that be where any worthless creep would hang out?

Mirror was about to find out... </font>