WELCOME

[Venaliea Hawk]

Morning flooded into the room, bathing it in sunlight and washing away the peaceful, deep blue of night. Groggy eyes accepted the view with a mixture of appreciation and confusion. It was too for the world she lived in. A world of demons and horrors, war and death, dirty business and human test subjects, it didn’t deserve to be touched by something so peaceful as morning light.

Wakefulness washed over the young woman’s mind, bringing the realization of time. Rare was the day when Venaliea Hawk found herself in bed after sunrise. She rolled in the sheets, away from the warmth of her sleep and into the coolness of the morning air, and looked at the clock. Red glowing numbers informed her that it was 9:12 in the morning.

She reached and lifted her phone from the nightstand, brushing a finger across the face and reading the lit up images there. Fourteen missed called, ten voice mails, seven messages, and thirty-two unread emails. The day had started without her. She set the phone back down and pulled herself into a sitting position. Her mind was groggy with the late start, but images of the night before were clear in her memory. Security was always tight, but that fact hadn’t deterred the attack.

After a moment to collect herself she placed her feet on the rug beneath her bed, breathed deep, then lifted her body and carried herself into the bathroom. She turned the tap in the shower to hot and tugged the red nightgown over her head. As she dropped it onto a hook next to the bathroom door, her own naked image reflected in the mirror caught her attention. Bruising ran across her right hip, blue, purple, and nasty. There was another on the back and side of her right thigh, and a tenderness in her right shoulder that spelled trouble. It hadn’t bruised, but it felt as if it should have.

She washed away the memory, pushing it to the back of her mind as far as it would go. It would be of little use to her today. Afterwards she dressed in a blue, button down shirt, a black pair of slacks, and a jacket to match. It was a simple and professional look that suited the day she had planned. Lots of meetings, at least two of which had already been missed and maybe two more that would have to be rescheduled. There wouldn’t be much trouble, one of the good things about running a powerful company was that, no matter how much she pissed someone off, they always came back for business.

It was cocky, but true.

Downstairs she smelled the enticing sent of bacon cooking. Real bacon, with eggs and what smelled like pancakes. When was the last time she’d actually sat down and had a full breakfast? Childhood? It seemed like. She was already running late, and the fourteen missed phone calls had turned into twenty over the last half hour, but maybe she would have breakfast with Jesse, the housemaid. She had a motherly personality and always made sure Venaliea had dinner when she got home from the office, no matter what time of night it was. Of all the homes in all the countries with all housemaids, Jesse was her favorite.

With a smile and the decision that today was going to be better than she’d thought upon waking, Venaliea started her day.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle!” The front desk receptionist greeted Venaliea with a cheerful smile and a happy wave. Venaliea didn’t recognize her face, but it had been months since she’d last been to the France office, she could have been hired at time between now and her last visit. Venaliea responded with a friendly smile and stepped onto the center elevator.

As the doors closed she took a deep breath. The elevator was empty, save for the man who shadowed her every step, and it was peacefully quiet. She thumbed the button for the top floor, swiped her keycard, and then punched the four digit code to unlock the elevator’s access to the executive offices. Top-notch security.

The doors opened on another receptionist desk. The woman sitting there stood, smiled with mild impatience, and followed Venaliea into her office with a stack of folders and a mildly irritated look on her face. Venaliea ignored it, reminding herself the trouble she’d probably had to deal with this morning because of Venaleia’s absence, and listened to what she had to say.

“Bonjour. Nous avons beaucoupe á faire au cours de cette matinee.” She began. She was blonde, blue eyed, and beautiful. As she continued speaking, she did so in English. “I’ve rescheduled all of your meetings from this morning. Your next is this afternoon, two pm. I also have several reports for you to go over, and… well.” She paused, setting the files on Venaliea’s desk.

“The only thing of real interest is this.” She came around the desk, holding a single, red folder out to Venaliea. The color meant it had to do with the enhanced solder project, which instantly peeked Venaliea’s interest. She took the file and opened it, reading the information as Sarah continued to speak. “The request was interesting. I have the contact information if you would…”

Venaliea rose her hand, signaling for quiet as she read through the file. Someone was actually requesting to undergo some of the procedures used in the enhanced soldier project? Now, that was interesting. When the project first began governments were offering soldiers and prisoners like they were rats for testing. Anything that might give the human race an edge in the war. Now, years later, the project was still going on, but soldiers rarely volunteered their services. They were generally chosen out of boot camp and sent into the labs… But this was a civilian.

Her curiosity laced a steel wire through her mind and tugged.

“Set up a meeting for today. I want to see this woman… speak with her. I’m curious why she’s interested in this sort of request.”

Sarah nodded and turned to leave, but Venaliea spoke again. “Wait… We need to up security again. Pull some of the guys we have on reserve. I want everything doubled. The offices, the lobby, the garage. I also want more personal guards. Low level stuff, not full access, but more bodies. Pull some people and have a couple ready for this meeting.”

Sarah nodded again and left the office, leaving Venaliea in the silent peace of her office.

[Andras Smith]

Normally the boxing gym was filled with the sound of skin meeting sand-filled canvas and grunts of exertion. During the day there would be the usual trainers and their students, some casually learning the sport for fitness, others hopefuls with their eyes on world titles. Now, at just a little after eleven in the morning, the large hall was almost empty - the early birds having already gone, the afternoon crowd having not arrived yet. Only two figures broke the monotony of empty equipment. Their scuffle - there was too much dirty fighting to call it anything but - sent sounds echoing about the space, though there was no one to see or hear the fight. That was just as well. It was obvious that there was more than just a practice fight going on, and in addition to that it was obvious that one of the fighters was Demonic, and that the other was less obviously of the same persuasion. For the one it was the black eyes, the red 'birth marks'. The other had similar signs - an iris as black as his pupil, skin that was an odd tone - but the subtle nature indicated on of mixed blood.

A particularly vicious blow connected with the side of the Demonic's head, earning a loud exclamation and a glare. "What?" the other asked innocently, hands still in guard position despite the break in the sparring. "I'm sorry, was that too hard for you? I'll try to pull my kicks more." Was it stupid for Andras to antagonize his half-brother like that? Of course. It didn't stop him though; the reward of Eli's anger far outweighed any consequences that might occur. It was definitely petty and immature, but the hybrid took his amusement where he could find it.

For a long moment it seemed like the aforementioned consequence would be almost instantaneously delivered. The Purus Demonic certainly was livid enough, the pain far less than his irritation at letting an attack through his defense. Luckily - for Andras or Eli, it wasn't exactly certain - before the match had a chance to resume the hybrid's phone started ringing. Normally he would let it go, but almost at the same time Eli's phone also began ringing. With similar expressions of irritation and puzzlement the half-brothers left the boxing ring by either side and answered their phones.

"Allô?" It was second nature by now for him to answer in French since he had been in the country for a week and a half. The woman on the other end of the line introduced herself as being with the Hawk Corp - and that was enough for Andras to forgive the unfortunate timing of the call. "Ouais, je peux venir po quelle heure? Merci." He closed the phone and turned to find Eli's eyes on him. "Sorry, bro." The endearment was used only because it bothered the Demonic. "I'm gonna have to run. Wanna do this again tomorrow?" It was hardly the pure excitement of the workout that drove Andras to ask. Really he would be just fine with not seeing Eli again for several months. To his relief the other shook his head. "Father has a job for me. It'll probably take the rest of the week and then some." There was a smugness in his face and voice as he told the hybrid this, and normally it would be something that Andras would be jealous of. As much as he disliked Glaucia, the work he assigned was always a challenge and the rewards of a job well done was an increase of freedom - and spending money. Besides that, it was a convenient way for the two to continue their rivalry. Now, though, Andras was less interested in what Eli was doing and more interested in how long he would be gone. Glaucia undoubtedly already knew that Andras was working for the Hawk Corporation, but that didn't mean that caution where the Demonic was concerned wasn't merited. That meant keeping Eli's nose out of it all, and that was infinitely easier when he was in Greece or London or wherever it was that he was being sent.

With a less than friendly farewell, Andras left the gym for his apartment. A quick shower and shave before changing into his work attire and he was ready to go. The woman had said to hurry - perhaps not in so many words, but that was the feeling he had gotten from her. So Andras hurried as quickly as he could without actually hurrying. Not too long after leaving the gym he was pulling into the parking lot of the Corporation, and then he was walking in, getting his pass, dumping his stuff in his locker and heading off to be briefed.

ooc | hope it's all good. if I need to change something, I totally will. Also, if I need to fill in anything, I totally can. >> wasn't sure how far I was supposed to go.

[Venaliea Hawk]

The list was longer than Alex would have appreciated, but having options really wasn’t something she could complain about. Of the hundred or so on-call security staff Hawk Corporation employed in the France area, only about thirty met the qualifications Alex had been looking for. Intelligent and hardworking, strong without standing out too much, had experience with personal security and had worked with Hawk Corporation in the past, as well as speaking a variety of languages. She carried the thirty files in her arm as she stepped through the large, oak doors of Venaliea’s office, offering the young CEO a friendly smile.

Alex was a young, hardworking woman that had been personally hired by Venaliea about seven years ago. She knew that part of the reason Venaliea had opted to hire her for this position was her appearance. She had long, red hair, the greenest eyes anyone had seen, fair skin and fine features that made her beautiful, but in a natural way. She put people at ease because she looked like your best friends sister, or the girl next door. The sort of woman a man enjoyed looking at, but not someone you’d expect to see dancing around a pole in a bar. Alex was fine with that. Her looks might have been the nail that got her the position, but her intelligence and skills had gotten her much farther since.

That, and she liked Venaliea. She was young, enthusiastic, more intelligent than anyone Alex had met before, and despite the dark reputation the company sometimes had, Venaliea was a genuinely kind hearted woman… At least, as far as Alex was concerned. “Good morning, Ms. Hawk.” Alex greeted her long time employer and friend with a cheerful smile and a smooth, American accent Venaliea didn’t hear very often these days. Alex hailed from the Midwest, but she had none of the downward drawl from the southern influence in her part of the world, or any of the nasally, upturned vowels from the northern influences. Just a simple, smooth voice.

“I have the candidates for you to look at. Thirty total and only ten have worked with you personally… however, I think all thirty are well qualified for this particular assignment.” Alex set the files on Venaliea’s desk and spread them out, watching as the slightly younger woman ran a hand across a few of the names. Ones, Alex assumed, Venaliea recognized.

“Hire these four…” Indicating four of the files by pulling them from the group and setting them aside. “…for personal duty. Have them report to Stephen. The rest I don’t know as well or can’t remember meeting. Choose the people you feel are most qualified and interview them for personal protection and in-house security. Hire the rest to fill in the gaps in the building.” Venaliea turned back to face the large windows overlooking the city skyline, steaming mug of tea in one hand.

Alex stood for a moment, watching the other woman. The attack the night before had been a surprise for all of them. Alex had been about thirty feet from the explosion and had suffered no damage… Venaliea had been much closer. She appeared to be alright, but the way she stood so stiff made Alex concerned. Quietly and slowly, she ignored her own impulse to question her employers health and gathered the files. Venaliea was a responsible woman, if she needed medical attention she would seek it.

The calls were made and people began showing up for their interviews. One after another Alex sat them down in the narrow, plane looking room on the twentieth floor and asked the basis questions she always asked. The room was narrow and felt closed in, the chairs were small and tight to people who sat in them, and the table seemed too high. She sat back in a relaxed position, legs crossed with a stack of files on the table and one in her lap. Idly she would take notes, seeming as if nothing in the world could interrupt her smooth attitude.

It was all a screening process. Certain questions had been added to the list in order to see the reaction of the person sitting before her, but the room itself had also been designed to test a potential security guard. Did they feel as if the walls were closing in? Was the uncomfortable way the chairs were too small and the table too large unsettling? How did they react to the environment while they were asked a number of personal questions, some of which crossed the line between professional and way too personal? The final interview would be in front of Venaliea Hawk, at least for those who were to work with the woman directly, and that would always be the determination factor, but over the last seven years Alex had become rather good at weaning out the crazies.

And the vengeful.

She smiled and looked up at the man standing next to the door. He was tall, about 6’5”, and a bit cliché looking. Large muscles, crew-cut hair, small and dark eyes, but he did the job he was meant to do. Make the room feel even smaller and put nervous people even more on edge. The people who couldn’t handle this room had no business handling the protection detail of someone like Venaliea Hawk. “Bring the next interview in, please. A Mr. Smith.”

Alex shuffled through the pile for the correct folder, placed it neatly in her lap, and waited for her next interview.

[Yvonne Marquette]

Porcelain fingers reached for the stainless steel knobs above the deep basin, twisting the handle for cold water. Yvonne's hand reached under the running faucet, collecting a small pool of cool water that she then splashed across her face, a jolting yet welcome wake-up to her system. It was early--the sun had barely began to peak through the sheer curtains that flowed across the windows in her bedroom--but Yvonne was a busy woman. Sleeping in was a luxury for the content, for the bored, for those who had no ambition.

Yvonne turned off the sink and reached for the soft white towel hanging next to her. She gently patted her face dry--She always patted, never rubbed. Rubbing created unnecessary friction against her skin, leaving it red and dry--and then squirted a dab of moisturizer in her hand. She massaged the gentle formula into her skin, being careful not to appply it too heavily around her eyes.

Her younger brother would ocassionally tease his older sister about her beauty habits, and perhaps, to be fair, they were excessive for someone of her lineage. The demonic blood surging through her veins had prevented her from ever being ill, let alone have a break-out. She had been the subject of envy, and subsequent hatred, from her female peers as a teenager for having such "luck."

The hyrbid carried on with her morning routine, applying a small amount of eyeliner and mascara to enhance her striking gray eyes and just a touch of gloss on her full lips. She curled her long, dark hair into loose waves that cascaded down her back, and opted for a simple A-line cream dress paired with nude heels. With a small smirk, Yvonne decided that she would don one of Edouard's mother's necklaces, for no other reason that she knew it would frustrate her step-father.

Satisfied with her appearance for the day, Yvonne strolled down the mahogany staircase, pleased in a sort of sadistic sense to see her step-father in the kitchen, fussing over the coffee maker.

"Oh, good morning, Edouard," she said, her accented voice dark and sardonic as she sauntered through the wide archway that led into their almost excessively large kitchen. "I see last night's drinking has turned the coffee maker into this morning's puzzle. I'd offer assistance but I doubt you'd want any help from a... Oh, goodness. What was that you called me? 'A half demon cunt who should have been aborted'? Yes, I believe that was it."

Yvonne flashed a wicked smile, her perfect teeth sparking in the bright fluorescent light, as she reached across her step-father for a glass.

"I guess your mother was as horrible as my own at--"

"Enough, Yvonne. Enough!" he finally spat out. Yvonne lifted her brows in amusement, her heels clicking on the hard floor as she moved to the 'fridge for some cranberry juice. "Save your vitriol for me, if you must. She did want she could with you. You were tainted from the start."

She apathetically sipped from her glass, swallowing and swallowing until she downed the entire beverage. With a dramatic expulsion of air, Yvonne placed the glass on the granite countertop and grinned, that hint of malice still never leaving her face. Her hand drifted up to her delicate neck, long fingers reaching out to tauntingly play with the jewelry resting on her collarbone.

"Ah, yes. Well, now that I've had my juice and heard you tell me what an awful creature I am, I believe I can start my day. I do hope one of those berserker demons, one of those things that actually warrants your level of appalling disgust, tears out your insides, feasts on your intestines while you're still conscious, and leaves you to bleed out, slowly and painfully," she retorted, the pace of her words quick and direct.

"Daddy dearest," she added, with a small and patronizing curtsy.

"I'll be in my office if anyone needs me," Yvonne called as she strolled out of the kitchen.

[Andras Smith]

It was fairly standard procedure; some unknown higher-up narrowed down those who were on-call to a handful that would be on personnel duty, and those were then taken in for interviews. Again, standard. Sitting, waiting to be called in, he amused himself by guessing the stories of the others in the waiting room. One was tanned, probably American if clothing brand was anything to go by. Another was obviously Swedish by heritage - hair color, facial structure, it all but shouted it. He was trying to decide about the third's accent - Eastern Russia? - when he was called in. The man who had done the calling - a beast of man, if he were being honest - was probably an attempt to unsettle the people coming in for interviews. It was a relatively ham-handed approach, and the hybrid couldn't help but feel a slight wave of contempt for whoever it was that had arranged the whole thing.

The inside of the interview room was just as bad, though it was easy to repress any reaction to it. Settling in the chair, he examined the woman across from him. The traditional greetings - Hello, how are you, I'm fine thank you - were exchanged, and then the questions began. Confirm your name, your birth date, where were you born, so on and so forth. It was extremely routine, almost to the point where Andras was contemplating adopting a bored air - an air that wouldn't exactly be an act. Soon enough the questions being asked were of the less routine and more personal type. Some had at least a tiny bit of relevance - had he ever gone through therapy, used drugs that might affect performance - to those that were only asked to incite an inflammatory response. "In the last two months, how often have you had intercourse?" Definitely they were into the land of rude now. Best to throw them a bone, 'crack' and refuse to answer the question, or become a total smart-ass, diffuse the tension he was supposed to be feeling somehow. Instead he merely blinked, and then answered in as calm a fashion as he could manage, the blandest smile he could conjure on his lips. "Twelve times." There had been the Prague job, that little minx in Berlin, the woman in Stuttgart - that had been a boring job until her husband had walked in. There had been others, flings for a night or two. None of this needed to be said though, not until he was asked to volunteer the information.

"Are there any other questions you would like to ask?" If the design of the room was a bit ham-handed, the questions were even more so. The only way that some of those questions could have been even more inflammatory were if they were directly insulting the interviewee. Sitting there, Mr. Muscles and Ms. Notes in the same small room, the high table, it was easy to see how the average nut-job would have cracked before long. Was easy to see that even normal people would've snapped pretty quickly. Belatedly Andras wondered if he should have displayed at least some sign of discomfort. Probably, he finally decided, Too late now, though. So he sat, his bland smile still on his face, leaning back in his chair, arms resting comfortably at his sides, fingers locked and hands settled on his stomach.

Predictably there were a few questions to bridge the gap from the inflammatory questions to the end of the interview, things like if he had remembered what color the Hawk Corporation's logo was in the lobby of the building, how many points a pyramid had, easy questions. And then the whole thing was done, and Andras almost wanted to breathe easy. The most difficult part was still to come though, assuming that he hadn't tripped any major alarms  as of yet. Maybe he would actually be able to get his hands on valuable data - that would make this whole thing infinitely worth more.

The interview declared done, he rose and shook hands with the woman behind the desk. He almost shook with Mr. Muscles, but then decided that that would be much too friendly for the show he had been putting on. So instead he left the room, sat where he was told to, and waited to be called into Ms. Hawk's office, confident that he would be pushed onto the next stage, which would be meeting with Ms. Hawk.

[Venaliea Hawk]

This was about the time Dorean Hawk would have pulled out the brandy, poured himself a glass, and relaxed by the window while he waited for the next interview. Venaliea’s process was a little different. She stood in silence before the window, eyes fixed on the city skyline outside, but her mind was reaching. Reaching for someone in the building next door, reaching for the any-sized man on the street below, reaching for the coffee shop waitress she’d met that morning. Venaliea reached, touched, and prepared her mind for what was to come.

The task, touching a person’s thoughts without him realizing you’re actually poking around in his mind, was rather difficult. Even for a woman with years of experience. She could accomplish the task on the fly, without any preparation, if the situation came down to it, but it was always a bit of a gamble. A fifty-fifty shot that the person standing in front of her would notice she was poking around inside his head. What gave her the upper hand was the fact that, even if a person could feel what she was doing in there, he often didn’t understand. Telepathy wasn’t a common occurrence, even in today’s world. For the most part, the ability to read minds was still science fiction to most people.

Even with demons and angels running around the cities, raging war, and super soldiers being produced in labs.

Still, even when the subject didn’t know what was going on in his head, why it felt like fingers were shifting through the personal files of his memories, it threw them off. Their train of thought went wild, their concentration broke, and the thoughts Venaliea might have been trying to pick up on are lost in a cluster of emotions and ideas that are impossible to sort through without real concentration. The sort of concentration you simply can’t accomplish when you’re carrying on an in-depth conversation.

A light knock on the door called Venaliea’s mind and attention back to the office. She turned as Alex stepped through the door. In her arms were the final ten files that she had selected out of the group. The few that seemed qualified, both through their records and the interview, to serve as guards in close proximity to Venaliea. She offered her boss and friend a small smile as she spread the files across Venaliea’s desk, gesturing to the one on top. “He’s ready when you are.”
“Are these the ones for personal security?”

“Some of them. The others are sensitive floors and clients.” Alex responded. “Whichever you think is best.”

Venaliea nodded and opened the first file. He was German, thirty-two, eleven years of experience and three with Hawk Corporation. Twice he had been employed to personal security and there were no negative marks in his record. The only red ink in the file was a note about a personal issue he had struggled through a few months back. To all indications, he was prime for the job. “Send him in.”

The interviews passed in a matter of minutes, Venaliea’s mind rippling over the open thoughts like a gentle breeze against a still lake. She found herself growing wary as the questions began to blend together and the answers all started to sound the same. Same words, same basic thoughts, same intentions, same moments with different faces attached to them. With six down and four to go, Venaliea buzzed for Alex to bring the next candidate in. A Mr. Smith. The name itself make Venaliea smile. Smith. She wondered if it was his given name or one he had assumed for the job? Either way, from the notes Alex had taken during her interview, this one should be a little more entertaining than the rest. He was calm, collected, never missed a beat… This might get interesting.

As Alex escorted Mr. Smith into the room, Venaliea prepared herself for another round. She pulled her mind in close, focused on her own thoughts, then gently reached out, allowing Mr. Smith to walk into her mind on his own. Outwardly she stood and extended a hand in his direction, gesturing with the other for him to sit in the chair next to hers. “Welcome. Please, have a seat.”

Between them was a small, square table with a tea pot, a dish of cream, a dish of sugar, two small spoons, and two tea mugs. The one next to his chair appeared to be untouched. Either none of the other candidates had served themselves, or she had fetched a fresh mug before he came in. “This shouldn’t take very long. I’m Venaliea Hawk. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Smith.”

[Andras Smith]

Luck or skill, whatever the reason, Andras had passed whatever test the first interview had been. It was hard not to smirk as he waited for his turn with the head honcho herself, and more than once he had to remind himself that he had chosen cool, calm, and collected as his mask for this particular production. It was with that in mind that he walked into the office, a bland smile fixed firmly in place. The strides between the door and the cozy little seating arrangement gave him time to process the room, tag potential threats, and most importantly, time to cool the abrupt, bitter anger that flamed up as he realized that he was more or less alone with the woman responsible - directly or indirectly - for his troubled past. It took all of a few moments to push the anger aside, focus instead on taking her proffered hand in a professional grip, take a seat with the proper air of indifference and grace.

"It is my pleasure to speak with you, Ms. Hawk. Please feel free to take as long as you wish with this interview." A break, if a small one, from cool, calm, and collected. Not even a break - an addition. Cool, calm, collected - and possibly conceited. His words indicated that her schedule was open, that he was graciously allowing her to take time from his schedule.

Tight, firm, professional handshake. This man was no stranger to the world of business. He took a seat and she followed his lead, watching with curious eyes as he expressed his availability for this interview to take as long as it needed. This wasn’t a body guard or a security officer, this wasn’t a rent-a-badge or a hired gun, the air the man sitting before her was putting out was the air of a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and exactly where to get it. Venaliea found herself liking him almost immediately, there was only one distinct problem – when he walked into her space and she listened for his mind, she heard nothing.

That had happened in the past. Some people simply had quieter minds than others – the ability to push their thoughts to the back of their minds and focus solely on the task at hand. A rather common trait among the people of her world, but even they think a little louder than this one. How curious… As Venaliea looked down at the file, once more reading the basic information he had submitted – name, age, date of birth, location of birth, residence, ethnicity, things of the sort – she recalled three cases of similar incidence. Three people in the entire world whose thoughts had been so quiet.

But… no, his file didn’t indicate any discrepancies, surely she was wrong.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith. I appreciate your time. Please, feel free to have some tea if you would like. I only have a few questions.” She paused, considered pushing to hear what was in his head, and decided against it. She would pick something up eventually. A feeling, a thought, an intention. Venaliea only needed to be patient. “Two questions to start, but the first one is a two parter.” She smiled. “Why are you interested in working with this company, Mr. Smith? Specifically, in a position that will put your life and well being in true danger? And, the second question, do you have much experience in positions where your life will be at risk?”

He had almost missed the professionalism of high-class deals. This certainly wasn't an arms or drug deal, or even buying or selling of any large degree. Hell, this was a job interview. That, as much as anything, told Andras that he had been out of the business game for a while. Not that long though - it was easy to slip back into familiar patterns.

"Some tea would be lovely, thank you." As she asked her questions he moved without haste, making up the tea with habitual movements. Really he would prefer coffee - he had almost asked for some instead of the proffered tea. That would have been a bit too much he had decided, instead taking what had been before him. It was just as well - it gave his hands something to do as he mulled over Hawk's deceptively simple questions. The real answers - that he was seeking information in order to gain revenge, and that he had more experience in putting himself into danger than any sane person would admit - obviously wouldn't do. "I've worked in the freelance security field for the past several years," he said after taking a small sip from his cup, answering her second question first. "During that time I've dealt with my fair share of dangerous situations. Some were fairly innocuous incidents that hardly bear mentioning, but others were more violent and required various levels of violence for a peaceful resolution." Another small sip from the cup. "I am comfortable dealing with whatever levels of danger one is likely to encounter in the business of security, Ms. Hawk." Now the stickier part. Why was he after this job? Thrills? The chance to shoot someone? Simply to pay the bills?

"As to my interest in the position, well. You called me. I had no other job lined up, and so here I am." Opportunistic. That would do very nicely. "I have no qualms about my personal safety being threatened - I would hardly be in this particular line of work if that were the case." He really wished there was coffee instead of tea.

Coffee. It was racing through her mind like a train about to go off the rails. Surely, coffee wasn’t this man’s only thought, but it certainly seemed to be dominating the front of his mind. He preferred coffee over tea. She considered, very briefly, calling Alex in to fetch some for the man, but decided against it. He hadn’t asked out loud and Venaliea wasn’t usually in the habit of giving someone what they didn’t ask for. Well, that and the fact that she tended to scare people when she knew what they wanted without their requesting in. It had been the ending of one relationship, two friendships, and one professional relationship that she had been more than happy to do without. It scared people.

A memory slammed into Venaliea’s mind like a fist to the face. It hit her hard and fast. Suddenly the office they were sitting in was replaced with white walls that were dirty with decades of stains. The overhead lights were yellow and too bright, the air was cold and stale, and the whole place smelled like bleach and blood. She screamed in the memory, fought, but her arms were being forced backwards as her body was pressed against a cold, hard table. Despite being desperately over powered she continued to struggle against the arms holding her down. A man in a white coat leaned over her body with a needle that looked too large and a smirk on his face that suggested he was actually enjoying his work. As the pointy object came down towards her neck the vision faded.

Seconds had passed, just enough time for Venaliea to lose the grip on her tea, spill it across her lap and the file sitting in it, and slouch back in the seat as if she were losing consciousness. As her back touched the chair she sat up right again, cursed in Russian, and began shaking drops of tea from the papers in her lap. As if nothing more than a simple slip of the hand had occurred. Damned mind always seemed to choose inopportune moments for flashbacks of a time she could neither remember, nor be certain was real. That time of her life, those years after her attempted suicide, they were nothing more than grey fuzz in her memory. Bits and pieces of a time when she had been lost and no real explanation as to what had happened to her… But she hadn’t exactly gone searching, either.

“It would appear I’ve become a bit clumsy.” She gave him a polite smile and rose from the chair, laying the papers across her desk to dry. “We intend to hire you, Mr. Smith, this interview is simply to determine where your services would best be placed. You mentioned that you’ve been in the security business for many years. Your file notes that you’ve actually worked for the Hawk Corporation for quite some time. Is there a particular area that you prefer, either having worked in that area with this company or another?”

Things were going smoothly enough - that was until Hawk had some type of lapse. It was sudden enough that Andras wondered if the tea hadn't been laced with some type of drug, or if he had missed the sound of a tranquilizer dart being fired. Neither of these scenarios seemed all that likely. He had been drinking the tea and he felt fine, and why would someone bother darting one person in a room - but not the other?

Whatever his worries or thoughts, the scowl that had been creasing his brow and tugging the corners of his mouth down abruptly smoothed as Venaliea came back to herself. That was... odd. Obviously it was just some sort of quirk that the woman had. Her explanation hardly made more sense than the theories of drugs or darts. Clumsy? The last time he had checked, being clumsy didn't account for whatever her little episode had been. Nonetheless, now was an inopportune moment to press the issue so the hybrid let it go. He did file the information away, should he be able to use it to his advantage later on.

Now the part that really mattered; where he was going to be assigned. Coming out and saying 'Where the experimentation data from the past decade or two is at please' wouldn't work, and either way guarding a door didn't appeal to him at all. "I'm accustomed to working as personal security," he said, relaxing somewhat with her mentioning that his employment wasn't in question. "That is where most of my skill-set is focused."

That was… odd. The thought rang clearly through her mind. The first full thought she had managed to pick up during the interview. What had happened wasn’t well covered, it was easily seen, but generally went unnoticed by the people around her. If she offered some sort of weak excuse, such as clumsiness, they accepted it and carried on through their unobservant ways. But, that was most people, and this man was clearly quite different. He observed what had happened, recognized it as something more than simply spilling a cup of tea, and covered his curiosity without even trying. If she hadn’t heard his thought, in fact, she would have summed him up with the rest of the mildly stupid public.

He was intriguing her more and more by the minute.

With a deep breath she turned to face him again, her composure returned and a new found interest in hearing what was inside his head. This was a task that would take time, but it would be worth it. She already had her theories about this man, her mind was working out the puzzle at a million miles an hour, but she needed more… a lot more. “Personal security. Very well.” Her hand extended left, fingertips tapping the top of a red folder on her desk. Her mind went over the information she had read earlier that morning. Two mysteries in the same day…

“I had a rather interesting request cross my desk this morning. It’s a situation that requires high levels of confidentiality. You would be working closely with me and with a new client. If you’re interested, your duties would begin this afternoon.”

Confidentiality. There was the magic word. Confidentiality and working with the boss. There had to be a God in Heaven, because he was smiling on Andras right now. Not that one would be able to tell; he just nodded in acceptance to the decision, keeping that same little smile on his lips. Inside he was grinning and thanking the woman sitting opposite of him for being so obliging. Between having some level of clearance and being seen in the company of the corporation's owner, it should be easy enough to con his way into the records he was interested in.

"Very well." He took another drink from his cup before setting it back on the table. "When you say 'interesting', how do you mean?" Experience had taught him that when things got interesting it usually meant dangerous in some fashion. While he wasn't one to shy away from danger it would be nice to be at least somewhat prepared for the most likely situations. Considering the areas that the Hawk Corp dabbled in, his worries didn't seem completely unfounded.

[Venaliea Hawk]

What defined interesting in Venaliea Hawk’s little world? That was a good question. If the man sitting so calmly before her had any idea the sort of things Venaliea had seen, done, experienced, he might actually realize how good of a question that was. But how did she explain her version of interesting without giving away more information than was necessary? In her line of work, the world of business and secrets, that was always the fine line she needed to walk. Venaliea took a few moments to eye the file on her desk, then returned her gaze to Mr. Smith, a name she was coming more and more to believe was fiction.

“Interesting in the sense of never having this particular sort of case before. Hawk Corporation has its hands in a lot of different pots – we’re the leader in medical technology and that is the industry where our main focus will always lie, but we also delve into weapons technology, military intelligence, housing, community resources, and specialized projects. This particular case, the case of a young woman requesting one of our services, is odd because this is a service that is normally reserved for soldiers.” Venaliea paused. “I should have a meeting with her sometime this afternoon, and I would like for you to be there, but first we need to get your security clearance taken care of. According to your file, this will be your first time working at a high security level with Hawk Corp, so allow me to explain what the next few hours will entail.”

Venaliea returned to her seat across from Mr. Smith, the faint smile on her lips growing slightly. She was interested to see what his reaction to the following statements would be, particularly because she was starting to form a theory in her mind and wanted to know if she was on the right track… It was his mind that confused her. So closed off, so difficult to reach into. “At Hawk Corporation, security is everything. We deal in a number of sensitive projects that we need to protect at all costs, and we also employ a number of valuable employees that have some powerful enemies. Having worked personal security in the past, I’m sure you can understand what those types of enemies can do to a person.”

“The level of security for your new position requires a number of tests to ensure you are who you say you are. This is a process that makes many people very nervous, but I assure you, all information we gather is used solely for the purpose of our own security and will not be used for any other reason, nor shared with any outside party.” Venaliea shifted, crossing her legs at the ankle and watching for his reaction. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’ll be submitted to a number of non-invasive tests – urine, finger prints, blood, background, credit, work history, ect. You can, of course, refuse any one of these tests, but they are all required for the position you’re being considered for.” It was the blood test that had Venaliea curious. It was no secret that Hawk Corp. hired outside of the race for certain positions and projects. Half demons, half angelics, full bloods of each of the races had all been employed by the company at some point or another, but she was still curious exactly what he was.