2009-12-01: Liquid Reward



Date: December 1, 2009


For not killing Trenton, Emily gets a reward from Prometheus.

"Liquid Reward"

Emily's upscale NYC hotel room

A man wearing black leather boots walks down the hallway, only the sound of the black bodysuit's legging rubbing against itself sounding the arrival of the man known to Emily as Prometheus. The body suit appears to be a latex or something close to it, hugging the curves of Gene's body much in the way Batman's did in Batman Forever and Batman and Robin. A dark red belt with a variety of devices on it is secured to his waist and over the suit is a black trenchcoat, perhaps used to pass as somewhat normal as he moves toward his destination. Of course the sign that Prometheus is not your average person is the Helmet that he wears. While it seems styled in a similar manner as a motorcycle helmet, it is must slimmer on the sides and back, though it still covers the face with a dark tint. The bodysuit's neck actually goes past the helmet itself, perhaps to give a watertight seal of sorts or at the least, prevent exposed skin.

In his hand, Prometheus holds a simple box, seemingly the size used for large tennis bracelets and the like. Moving toward the room he was told to go to, the young man gives a couple of knocks on the door, unsure of what exactly to expect.

Quite similar to Emily's initial run-in with Alpha Protocol, she's just recently stepped out of the shower when Prometheus knocks on the door. However, tonight, she's ready for someone's arrival, and has planned for things to be this way. She's been out of the shower for a few moments as he knocks, her hair mostly dry, but left down, a little damp and wavy. In a plush hotel robe, she comes to the door. Not to be lewd, it is sinched tight, and she has all her undies on under it. She is aware that sex sells, though!

Tucked away in the room's separated bedroom, the comatose body of the New England bed & breakfast owner Margie lies still and breathing on the bed, kept fed and what have you, and hopefully soon to be left return home. She's developed quite the rapport with Emily, you know!

The door opens and the 'hero' in black finds there is an very attractive woman there dressed in seemingly nothing but a bathrobe.

Thankfully, the helmet hides the gapping stare the young hero gives the woman. After a few moments, the digitally altered voice finds the words to speak, coming from a speaker in his belt oddly enough.

"…If you need a few moments, I can wait outside," Prometheus points to the hallway. "I did not mean to catch you unaware."

"No…no you didn't catch me unaware. I'm perfectly comfortable this way." Stepping back from the door, Emily makes a sweeping motion inside the room. It's a pretty plush hotel room, kinda pricey. There's no lack of hotel-amenities, like a big flat-panel television, comfortable sitting area, large desk space. On said desk space is a computer that goes back to the last time the two of them talked about when they last got together. "Why don't you come on in? Maybe take your helmet off…get comfortable…" she smiles sweetly.

"Sorry, the helmet stays on for this visit…" Prometheus swiftly replies, coming in a moment or two after Emily makes the motion for him to come inside. "But I make myself as comfortable as I can." That said, he sits on the middle of the couch, but for now, he is seated with his back straight with proper pose. "The fact that I am willing to meet with you in person is a sign that things are going as they should be… For the most part. One of my charges has told me that you had an encounter with a man in a bar."

Emily chuckles, nodding and smiling. "Well…yeah, I encountered a few men in bars. It's kind of hard not to. But I think maybe you mean Trenton, huh?" Conveniently, there's a copy of that issue of the Times, lying right on the coffee table, open to the story. To make her point, she slides up to the table, sitting on the carpet and tucking her legs under her body. "In my defense, he did try to roofie me and two other women. That's not cool…"

Prometheus watches the woman closely, though without the visual of his face, it hard to tell exactly the primary drive is: Caution or interest. "Of course, it is not. I can understand the desire to ensure that the man does not repeat the process again. From what my informant told me though, 'Trenton' is currently in a coma of sorts. I certainly hope that is not the case," the man replies, only taking his attention off Emily to glance at the paper for a short time.

"He's….kind of in a coma. It's…complicated," she says with a smile, looking up to Prometheus. Well, looking at him, at the helmet where she surmises his face should be. "It's not a coma, persay. There's brain activity, but doctors won't find it. It seems like he's in a persistent vegetative state. The sort that you see on the news, over whether to pull the plug or not. There's just enough of him left in control to keep the heart pumping and lungs breathing."

"You did not kill him… I am thankful for that. However, this is not too much better. Of course, I am expecting that you knew this already and are going to tell me when you are free him from his state," Prometheus states as he leans back into the seat, though not fully. His arms pulls up to rest on the back of the couch, still holding the box in his hand.

"Hmm…I hadn't thought about that, really. It'd be a little hard to get into that hospital…though I guess I could do it at any time," Emily sort of sighs out, leaning back herself, and shaking out her drying hair. She puts her palms down onto the carpet, and looks at the ceiling, in thought. "I suppose once the tabloids have run their course, and before the family makes the decision to pull the plug. That should be a big media event…the fight for Trenton's life, the arguments over his final wishes, the whole she-bang, you know," she says with a nod.

Prometheus gives a sound that may or may not be a snort, though he doesn't move at all from his position. "It is hard to say when the family may make that decision… But the family did not put anything into your drink. They should not suffer for his foolishness. Considering what you have done for the man so far, I do not believe that allowing him to suffer further will further your goals. Besides, if he is really that brain dead, he is not being punished at all. It is best to let awaken him quickly, in order to reap the bitter seeds he has sown. Besides, once you give me a date for his release, I will feel much better in rewarding you for your efforts to reform."

"Well…I wouldn't say he's suffering. Just…doing a lot of useless screaming to himself. Nobody can hear it, or even guess he's doing it, and I figure he has to have realized that by now." Emily gives a casual little shrug. "Let's say…Friday. Trenton will make a miraculous recovery, and then he'll have a lot of weekend press."

"…I will be expecting that to be the case," Prometheus states calmly. "Now… I suppose you should have your reward. I have a device that will allow you to summon help if needed, a more powerful beacon than the one I had planned for you originally… And something that may give pleasure. Finally, I can answer some questions for you, but I cannot promise I can or will answer them all. Which of the three would you like… I am willing to give all or none, depending on your preference."

As if Gene really has to ask on that one! "Well…hm. What do you think I'm going to say? How about all three!" Emily is grinning a little…greedily, almost. The promise of reward is always good, and the idea that she'll be able to summon help, get pleasure, AND have questions answered? That's too good to pass up!

Shrugging, Prometheus seems to be rather mellow despite his uniform. "Here is the device," he begins, tossing over the box. Inside is a simple fliptop cell phone… Only it doesn't seem to want to flip up. "Press the red button on the side and I'll be able to find you and send help your way. As long as you are in the US, I'll know where you are. I suggest if you have questions, you ask them now… I am not sure you would be able to keep focused if you sought the second gift before the third."

Uh…doy, questions are easy! "Are you that nerdy dude I met in the coffee shop? The one who ran off before an RC car showed up outside? What are your plans for this Alpha whatever? How do I fit in? What's my role? When's it all going down? Who else is involved?" Like a machine she spits out questions, trying to cover the 5 W's and the H while she has the chance.
There is a short pause as Prometheus seems to be 'processing' the questions. "I refuse to give any clues as to my identity. As I stated before, I have many that work for me and serve me. In time, when I trust you enough, you will learn who I am. As for Alpha, I plan for it to be stopped obviously. As an Evolved like yourself, I wish for the government to leave me and my peers alone…. As for how I take it down, I am still gaining the intel to make that happen. As for your role, you will be using your gifts to take control of a person I deem the best in helping me realize our goal. When, as you can gather, will be annouced when I feel the group is ready. The others involved? Likely most, if not all, that recognize Prometheus as their ally or leader." There is another pause as Prometheus leans foward. "…Is that all?"

Leaning back on the carpet, biting her lip, Emily seems to have rattled off the questions she had in mind pretty quickly. Thinking on the responses a bit, she nods to all of them as a group. "That's…all, for now, I think. But I might have to use this little communicator dealie to get in touch with you if I have others. So, uh…how about that third thing?"

"Of course" is the digitally altered response. At Emily's request, Prometheus draws his hand into the pocket of the trechcoat, and when the gloved hand is withdrawn, a keen eye would notice that it has a thin layer of something wet along the fingers, dripping down the back of his hand. What is it? If Emily doesn't move, she will soon find out.

"I promise you, there are no afteraffects…" he says as he moves to caress Emily's cheek with his fingers before letting the back of his hand run down the side of her neck and down to her collarbone. "Enjoy." And considering that what Prometheus 'grants' Emily is Lena's own special brand of MDMA, it is likely that it will be the case.

At first, she looks up at him as he brings out a…wet glove? "What the?" she asks, eyeing him carefully, leaning her head away from the outstretched hand, but then, he starts to rub it in. "What the heck is this stuff?" she asks. "What are you…oh. Oh wow…" she says, blinking a lot, and looking around. "Hoooooly wow…" she groans out, beginning to run her hands up and down the robe she has on, feeling the thick cotton. Before long, she's tripping quite deeply, looking content enough to touch and feel most of the things in the room. Looks safe enough for Gene to leave.

The young man pauses as he watches the effects. He seems ready to explain, but then… Emily seems to understand it for herself. Hey, she asked for it. Being male (and wanting to make sure that the stuff doesn't accidentally hurt her), Gene watches as Emily runs her hands up and down her robe. As Emily gets up, he watches as she moves around, wondering what she'll feel up next. Then he realizes that A) she doesn't seem to be interested in him, despite how she greeted him, B) he may get himself in trouble across a wide spectrum of ways if he stays, and C) he's got other places he needs to be.

Using the slightly battered self-control he has, the bodysuit clad geek gets up. "Well, I need to get going. If you really need to reach me, I'm leaving a card by the beacon…" That said (and not caring if he is heard as he is pretty sure he ISN'T), Prometheus proceeds to leave the memo. Saying something about too much temptation in one week, the odd duck makes his way out the door and closes it behind him.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License