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| Someone of a Certain Talent; Copycat | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 20 2010, 12:41 AM (305 Views) | |
| Ken Harada | Nov 20 2010, 12:41 AM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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Los Angeles November 10th Around 10 pm In the basement of The Commodore, a restaurant to which he held the deed, he sat in an opulent office chamber, rambling off at a small black box, the tension in his tone obvious. He was waiting for a guest. One very important to his plans. Of course, she wasn’t necessary, but she would make things quite a bit easier. “Mr. Takano, I’m sorry but I’ve got to go. I’ve places to be tonight. I do, however, urge and implore you to reconsider your position on this before next week’s meeting.” ’For your own well being.’ , he added in his head. “Ahah. Good night. Yes, definitely. Mhm.” He slammed his index finger onto the button, cutting off the call and shooting from his seat at the end of the long, rectangular table. “Idiot!” He spat to nobody in particular. “Morons, the entire bunch of them. ‘Gaijin, this, ‘Foreigner’ that. They speak of their traditions, use it like a shield against the progress offered by diversity.” He looked to the bay of televisions mounted on the wall, showing him every nook and cranny of The Commodore. There wre two other men in the room, on either side of the door. Dressed in stylish black, each of them held pistols tucked away behind their jackets. Harada himself was unarmed, or at least he bore no weapon visible to the human eye. There was a knock at the door, and he turned to it, smiling as he looked on to the actions of the patrons milling about their evenings upstairs. “Oroshi, let them in.” One of the men swung open the heavy door, the storage room beyond quiet, though the noise from the kitchen just up the stairs filtered down into it. The meeting room was lavishly decorated in gold, black, and red, with oriental aesthetics abound. It was a stark contrast to the baroque style of the restaurant above’s trappings, and Ken would have to admit that he himself had a weakness for the visual taste of his own ancestors, enough so that he had the entire office area redesigned in their honor. He took a few steps back and leaned on the table at the room’s center, looking on as the woman he’d called to meet here stepped in and his men moved in to check her for weapons. “I trust you don’t mind this bit of insurance, one in my position cannot be too careful.” He moved to a bar set up at the end of the room opposite the door, pouring himself a glass of brandy. “I trust the limousine was on time to pick you up at LAX, Miss…” He turned around, two glasses in hand. “I’m sorry, but what do I call you?” |
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| Vanessa Carlysle | Nov 20 2010, 01:12 AM Post #2 |
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Genetic Duplication Through Manipulation Of Self
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The message she had received not very long ago was an intriguing one. Apparently, her reputation was better known than she had realized – and Vanessa had enough spare time that a trip to Los Angeles wasn’t out of the question. Considering the security at the airports, she had packed light, although she did check one bag, which contained a few guns, wrapped in clothing of course. The alias used to purchase the ticket was an old safe one, Valentine Bolton, and the flight was first class – no squished seats for someone who tends to copy people she touches. Aware that a ride would be waiting her, she retrieved her bag quickly from the line, sliding into a maintenance room for a few moments. The appearance and identification of Valentine was slipped away, as she changed into a sleek black business suit, the lines hugging her curves. A dark scarlet blouse buttoned up beneath the jacket, and a pistol was holstered under one arm. Another was slipped into an ankle holster, and a brace of throwing knives was tucked around her wrist, hidden by the sleeves. Appearance shifting quickly, she walked out of the closet as a tall redhead, green eyes sharp behind a pair of large sunglasses. Spotting a limo, she stepped over to the driver, flirting playfully to deliver the phrase that would clue him in on who she was. Her bag went into the trunk, and she sat in the back of the limo with a rather indulgent grin. Traveling in style was always best, and when they pulled up, she politely thanked the chauffeur, before being escorted into the restaurant. Being left at a door – obviously no one else was to disturb that room – she knocked briskly, waiting until the door was opened before stepping inside. Admiring the design of the room, her gaze flicked over the men approaching her, recognizing them as bodyguards. Vanessa stopped a few feet in, allowing the guards to frisk her, a rather playful grin on her face as she regarded Harada. “Of course. And I’ll even make this easier.” Opening the side of her jacket, she bared the one gun, which was removed by a guard. Her other hand lifted the pant leg to show the other pistol, with the same results. The wrist brace was tugged off and handed to one of the guards, and she lifted her arms to allow them to pat her down, smirking a bit. “A girl can’t be too careful these days,” Nessa chuckled, before nodding at him. “It was lovely, thank you. And you can call me Cat.” Seeing as she was known as ‘Copycat’. Her real name was fortunately not public knowledge. “I am intrigued by your proposition. Do tell me more.” Smiling slyly, green eyes flashing with interest, she took a step closer, only to have one of the guards grab her arm. In a swift movement, Cat gripped his wrist in one hand, twisting until he released her. “Down, boy. I’m here on business, and have no interest in making a free kill.” One last burst of pressure and she let go, crossing her arms as she eyed the two guards, before turning back to Harada. “My apologies for your man. I don’t take kindly to being touched without permission.” Already her eyes were darkening to match the man she had touched, his genetics replicated for a single moment, before she regained control. |
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| Ken Harada | Nov 20 2010, 01:47 AM Post #3 |
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He let out a laugh, hearty and loud as he took a seat, offering for her to do the same at the chair across the table, sliding the drink he’d poured for her across the glossy wood surface. “Oroshi, Tsung. Please step outside. This is a matter I need to deal with privately.” He watched as the two men begrudgingly left the room, shutting the door behind them. He clapped his hands a few times. “Welcome to The Commodore, Miss…Cat.” He leaned back in his chair, propping feet up on the table, quirking his eye at her chosen name. An alias, for certain. He sipped his drink. “Well, ‘Cat’, I’m sure that you at least have a little grasp of who I am. But in case you don’t, here is a crash-course. “My name is Keniuchio Harada, but you can call me Ken, for the time being. I am the head of one of the biggest energy providers in the world, a position that I find now is at risk.” He took his feet from the table, slouching over and resting his elbows on it. “I have not gotten to where I am now without stepping on a few toes, or making a few enemies.” He smirked. “One major enemy in particular.” He slid a manila folder across the table to her. “In that portfolio there is the collected information on a man known only as ‘Samurai Shirogane’, or, er…’The Silver Samurai’. He takes issue with me, or my work, or my methods. I’m not sure which. But this vigilante has made my life a living hell since I took the reins of my business. He is relentless in his pursuit of me above all others.” It was a lie he had perfected over the last twenty years. It was artful, crafty, and the main source of his efficiency as a company head. He leaned back once again, taking a sip of his drink. “I have information…intelligence gathered by my sources that points to his plan to bring down an attack on both me and my board next week. I have heard of your…talents…as an impersonator.” |
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| Vanessa Carlysle | Nov 20 2010, 02:14 AM Post #4 |
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Fortunately for her, the business man seemed more amused than anything by her slight issue with his guard, and she slipped into a chair in front of the desk as he sat. Reaching for the drink more to be polite than out of any desire for liquor, she did take a sip, enjoying the fire that raced down her throat. Grinning at his obvious suspicion towards her name, she tilted an eyebrow in response, not saying a word. Vanessa didn’t reply to his statement, nodding in agreement. She had in fact done quite a bit of research after receiving the message. And from what she learned, there was a good reason for him to make enemies, not that she cared about his dealings. Staying silent to allow him to explain, she leaned forward, placing the glass of liquor back on the desk to take the file. Opening it, she scanned through the information, eyes narrowed in thought, continuing to nod in response to his speech. Slanting him a quick, guarded look at his mention of this silver person being relentless, Nessa closed the file, arching an eyebrow at the talk of a plot. Ah, so there was news of a hit being planned…And the mention of her impersonation skills made her grin, laughing softly to herself. “I see why you are concerned. As for my talents…Well, judge for yourself.” Standing up for a moment, Nessie stepped to the door, opening it and gesturing to one of the guards – the one that hadn’t touched her before. Placing a hand on his forearm for a few moments, she thanked him and closed the door again. Turning around, her redheaded form shifted, stretched up and out, becoming the broad shouldered, muscular guard. For a second, her eyes flashed the truly vivid red of her natural form, before darkening until she was a perfect replica of the guard. “Just so you know, your guard out there, his genetics make him prone to getting arthritis later in life.” Her voice was no longer the mellow feminine voice of before, but was instead the slightly accented voice of the guard, perfect down to each nuance of speech. Flexing the thicker fingers, the now male Cat grinned again, before shifting back into her redhead body. Her clothes, changed into a black uniform, became the black and red suit of before, and she shook her hair out for a moment, wriggling her fingers as they went back to ‘normal’. “You have no idea how weird that feels.” Was her explanation as she shook herself a bit, dusting her lapel before sitting back down. “So let me guess. I’m to masquerade as you, so when this...Samurai,” A pause as her mind skipped through the profile she had been given, “Attacks, you are in no true danger. Just one question – am I being hired to protect your associates, or just escape as you?” Because that was a major difference, right there. Being ‘Harada’ would be easier if ‘he’ were to simply abandon the business mooks. |
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| Ken Harada | Nov 20 2010, 02:37 AM Post #5 |
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He looked on as she paraded her abilities in front of him, his expression bemused. “Very impressive.” He sipped on his drink, eyeing her as she shifted between European femininity and Asian Masculinity. “Distressing, but indeed quite impressive.” His smile shifted to a look of stern authority. “That kind of thing is exactly what I need.” He reached under the table, pulling out a clean, sterile looking briefcase. He stood, putting it on the table and opening it. It was filled with about ten thousand in small bills. He turned it around to show her and slid it down the table as he approached her, drink in hand. As he came to a stop beside her, he waved his glass in tandem with his speech. “This is a small gesture, call it a down payment.” His eyes passed to the wall of screens, and then slowly back to her. “This meeting, it is very important to me. I am trying to bring my business to the East Coast. I’ve already purchased a building there, it’s being repurposed as we speak.” His face twisted into anger. “Some of my board has become, well…let us say they’ve gotten cold feet.” He finished his drink and set it on the table. “I have a device that will hamper his powers,” he lied. “If and when he attacks, I want you to make sure the men I have listed in the file make it out alive. The others, well…” He gave her a knowing smile. “…leave them to their own devices.” He took off again to the bar, reflling his glass and calling to her over his shoulder. “If you accept this contract, I will have an amount to the tune of, say… a quarter million, if that would be sufficient, deposited in a numbered account, the access to which will be yours the moment I hear of your success.” Heading back to her, he took a seat on the table. “If you choose not to accept it, however, I trust that this money sitting here now will be enough to wash your mind of everything we’ve discussed.” So there it was, his face took on a look of indifference. “This is a power-play, Cat. Make no mistake about it. It’s all merely assurance that I get what I want without putting myself in danger, allowing you to make a profit at the same time.” He held out his bare hand. “I’m taking a great risk letting you do this. Do not abuse the power I am granting you here…do we have a deal?” |
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| Vanessa Carlysle | Nov 20 2010, 08:37 PM Post #6 |
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The first time she had shifted into a man, Vanessa could admit to being a bit awkward. It was a very different sensation – men just didn’t feel things the same way as a woman. It wasn’t bad, it was just different. After a few sessions, though, Nessie was just as comfortable as a man as she would be as a woman. It gave her a unique perspective towards other people, finding it perfectly normal to find both sexes attractive, no matter what her gender was at the time. While preferring a more comfortable female body for the most part, she was not averse to going to a bar as a man every now and then. Grinning a bit at Ken’s expression when she shifted, moving to sit back down. A nod was given as he pulled out the case, eyebrow arching high at the small bills. It was certainly impressive. Of course, she was more interesting in finding out more about this job, before touching the money. So she left it sitting there, a nice green reminder of her skill. Leaning forward to pick up the liquor again, she sipped once more, eyeing Harada as he spoke. Nessa nodded in understanding at his anger, chuckling quietly and shaking her head at the mention of cold feet. Her eyes narrowed at the idea of a device that would void the Samurai’s powers, mind working furiously. Stomping down on curiosity – a business deal requires no curious questions – she nodded once more, before smiling at his explanation. His last comment made her green eyes spark, and she stood up, crossing her arms. “I’d be insulted if I didn’t know what you mean.” A slightly amused smile, “Let me reassure you, Mr. Harada – I am a businesswoman at heart. What I learn or hear or see during this transaction no longer exists to me after our business is complete. As far as anyone else is concerned, it’ll be you this is happening to; there is no ‘Copycat’.” Leaning her butt against the arm of her chair, she glanced at his out stretched hand, hesitating for a moment. “We’ll gladly have a deal – but let me explain something, first. I can copy you, to the point that no one will ever know. But certain mannerisms and behaviors, phrases or quirks, I will need guidance on, especially during a business meeting. Think of it as…Coaching. Things such as, do you engage in physical conflict? Am I to fight this ‘Samurai’ as you, or do I allow guards to do it?” Although it was possible for her to go deeper into a shift, become a model of him that could confuse even him, Vanessa was not a fan of going so deep. It was far too easy to forget herself. Instead, she found it easier to allow him to think that she would need the guidance, the direction. She would need to know how he would act in the situation that was to occur. This time, she held her hand out, giving him the option to refuse and back out. |
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| Ken Harada | Nov 20 2010, 09:01 PM Post #7 |
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He looked her up and down, as if sizing her up. His eyes flashing over her and to the bay of screens from time to time. He let the serious look fade over his features once again. It was one thing for a mercenary to talk straight business. It was quite another, however, and a rarity, he added in his thoughts, to find one who practiced that which they preached. She had a way about her, for sure, of inspiring faith in her own sense of professionalism, but if the shit hit the fan, it wouldn’t be the first time he was forced to seek out and burn off any loose ends left behind by betrayal. He left out the obligatory ‘if you betray me, I’ll kill you’ line. He found such threats empty, a show of desperate men attempting to inspire fear. No, he simply nodded at her refusal to his warnings of incompetence and treachery, taking it as she understood what he was speaking about. Slapping the case shut and flipping the latches, he slid it a bit closer to her, sipping on his freshly poured drink. It could not be said that he was unwary of the idea of letting her in on the secrets of his mannerisms. Dealing with somebody of this sort, who could be anybody, anywhere, and at any given time, depending on merely their whim and wish, was a dangerous gamble. But this move mattered to him. Not only did it put him closer to the last known whereabouts of the Ginabakari, but if AmaTech could move a new Division into New York, the revenue alone would be worth the price of admission. Besides. He needed a new cabinet. Jengoro Fusoya had been planning this little attempted corporate coup ever since the two faced little peasant had bought his way into the company. Fusoya was a man of ambition, but he lacked the gumption to follow through with it and bring his plan into action until it was far too late. He would pay for his insolence, as would those who foolishly followed him. He took her hand, his face looking as if it were expecting some sort of odd sensation while she hijacked his genetic codes. She’d know he was a mutant, but, if she was half as smart as she’d seemed, she’d know that that information would not leave this room. He didn’t bring the subject up, casting her a knowing grin. “Well, then. If a little tutelage in my ways it what is required is necessary, I say then, we indeed have a deal.” He smirked. Offering his glass to her in a toast. “To capitalism, Mr. Harada...and all that that entails.” |
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| Vanessa Carlysle | Nov 21 2010, 01:55 AM Post #8 |
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Considering her skill at espionage, Vanessa had learned very early on how to separate each ‘life’ from her own. She kept her knowledge as ‘Copycat’ separate from her life as Vanessa, and vice versa. There were always times when she would come across sensitive information, and Vanessa had enough sense of self-preservation to know better than to try and use when she learned. And she was nothing if not honest – she warned those who hired her about what they were getting into. Although, for the most part, her jobs consisted of copying other people, not being hired to copy the person who hired her. Taking the slid case as a sign of consent, she left her hand in the air, before smiling thoughtfully as he took it. Her eyes fluttered shut momentarily, processing the information that was absorbed quickly, her skin flickering to a light gold for a moment. It stayed sunkissed for a moment, and when she opened her eyes, they were darker than usual. Vanessa held on a few seconds longer than she actually needed, running through the genetics in her head, memorizing them. Releasing again, she leaned forward, gripping the glass of liquor and lifting it in salute. To capitalism, Mr. Harada.” Downing the burning liquid in a single long gulp, she grinned in return, replacing the empty glass on the table. The case of money was slid off, placed onto the floor beside her chair, and she leaned back for a moment, tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair thoughtfully. “The best way for me to learn is to observe. I suggest that you hire another bodyguard for the day – or let me take the place of one of yours for a few days. Consider it as me making sure nothing happens to you before our business transaction can be completed. Free of charge.” Raking a hand through her hair, she winked at him. “I’ll even let you design your own bodyguard if you like.” He had seemed so unnerved by her shift into a man, perhaps he’d get a kick out of turning her into someone of his choice. |
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| Ken Harada | Nov 21 2010, 02:32 AM Post #9 |
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He quirked a brow, heading from his sitting position to the door. Opening it, he brought Oroshi back in, where he conversed with him for a few moments in quiet. The man nodded, and left the room before casting a curt look in Copycat's direction. He left, shutting the door. Harada returned to the head of the table, taking a seat. "Young Oroshi has been instructed that he is to lie low for the next week or so." He sat down in the regal-looking office chair. Casting a look to his employee, he smirked. "I doubt if a sudden addition to my security would be a wise idea. Paranoid, the whole of these business types, you see?" He pushed a button, calling down dinner for the both of them through the intercom at his end of the table. Leaning back in the chair with his hands pressed together at the fingertips, he eyed her. Everybody in this game had an agenda, hers was purportedly to make money doing the dirty work of those who could afford everything but getting their hands dirty. He wondered if that was the true motive with her, or if some other agenda was being angled off of that singular purpose. "So, you have your mission, your plans for the next seven days, and dinner on the way. I hope you are finding Los Angeles welcoming." He beat a path around the bush, as was his way. His thoughts drifted to his rented penthouse apartment, to the hidden compartment behind a wall-length mirror, to the shimmering suit of armor that rested complacently inside. And then they shot half the world away, into the tomb of Tsunenaga's Manor, where rested the ancient and ruined familial armor of his master's ancestors. |
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| Vanessa Carlysle | Nov 21 2010, 03:44 AM Post #10 |
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Sitting patiently in her chair as he spoke with his guard, she smiled as she saw the polite guard that she had copied earlier. Good, she had gotten a solid read on him and his genetics earlier, and she already seen his calm, quiet demeanor. Being a bodyguard was an easy task, given her usual observation skills. Nodding with a smirk at his comment about paranoia, she chuckled softly. “With good reason, I’m sure.” When he called for dinner, she met his curious gaze steadily, guessing that he was wondering about her motives. She had been asked multiple times about her motives behind doing such work. Vanessa had always been in the business of serving others. First as a prostitute, now in a more…Lucrative business. As far as she was concerned, this was just a different way of selling herself. One that tended to turn out better for her. She was in the business simply to make money. Not that it was anyone else’s business, her motives for doing this. When he spoke again, she smiled brightly, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest, nodding in agreement. “Yes, I find it quite welcoming. The weather is much more comfortable than the East Coast, right now. I’m hoping to spend some time at the beach before going back.” Not that tanning mattered to her, with her ability, but the warmth of the sun was something she had always enjoyed. And as long as she was in this warm weather, she planned on taking advantage of it. One booted foot pushed the suitcase further behind her chair, before standing up. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t stay much longer. I have a few errands before taking your guard’s place.” Taking her leave not much later, retrieving her weapons from the guards, carrying the suitcase out to the limo. Fortunately, the driver was directed to take her to the hotel she was staying at, where she settled in quite nicely. |
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