In the Barrel of a Gun {Plot Thread, 2nd} Pt. 2

[AKREE]

Alright a few simple rules to RPing here and a short introduction so we know what will be going on.

First one, keep in subject, don’t make your character be distracted by a shiny nickel or make them chat around a lot, I want to make this thread move fast and not get stuck in the boring parts, for this reason we won’t even give you time to hold your breath, the action will start immediately with the first post.

Second one, only the people (4 in total) that go in this thread will participate no one more or no one less.

Third, there’s a posting order, the first one that will post in Henry with Viktor, followed by Akree with Damien, Dodo with Vincent Fromm and lastly Elaine with Rebecca. Follow that order as if your life depended on it.

You have 5 days to reply, or else you will be skipped though it would not be preferred. Every character is important which is why they are found in the thread, otherwise they would not be. Remember, follow the order and you have five days to reply.

Posting order!

• Viktor RPed by Henry
  
• Vincent RPed by Dodo
  
• Damien RPed by Akree
  
• Rebecca RPed by Elaine
  

So what is going on?

Vincent is having a party including everyone from Izan to cheer up the members and keep those high spirits flowing. Vince, of course, is the host of the party with Damien as not only the co-host but in charge of security, basically he just gives orders to the dozens of guards stationed outside. This party not only has seriously tight security, but it also seems to be a cross between alcohol and a child’s dream party. Indoor roller coaster, beer and chocolate fountain, balloons, bars, waiters, dance floor, karaoke, darts, jump rope, whatever childish game you can think of is there, it’s simply mixed with a touch of formality, adults and alcohol.

However, Viktor finds himself looking through a particularly messy corner of the room only to discover a bomb.

Posting Format (you can add):

[blockquote]theposthere[/blockquote]

VIKTOR POSTS NOW!

[Viktor Romanov]

Wearing a collared shirt, tie, and dress pants, all of which were colorless black and white, Viktor Romanov stepped into the scene of party and excitement. Of course, he was already slightly irked, even though he hadn't been there for more than ten minutes. It was most likely the time he had spent going through the rigorous security system that had him in a dither. It really hadn't taken all that long, but to the Head of Intel that time went by slower than a turtle crawling up a hill. Which was rather slow going, as you can probably imagine.

Anyway, Viktor took a moment to adjust himself to the sudden change of silence on the outside to the bustle and hustle that was going on inside. It really was quite the party. Vincent obviously knew how to create a festive scene. Speaking of Vincent, he was probably annoyed with him at the moment, because Viktor had arrived rather late. All fault for his timing was on him; he couldn’t blame it on traffic, or the weather, or the mudslide (there was no mudslide to speak of). But being a sort of ass, the spy head didn’t put any effort into his pace, and even stopped to pick up a bit of beer from the beer fountain (something Viktor was very impressed with). No food, not yet. Just some alcohol. The amount he had wouldn’t make him very stupid at all. He was pretty hardcore.

Finally, the vampire decided it was time to go find and greet Vincent. He made his way in a direction that seemed like a likely place to start looking, when something caught his eye, tucked away in the corner of a particularly disheveled area of party space. Eyes narrowed, he made his way swiftly over to the area, then observed the object which he perceived to be something that was really quite unpleasant and certainly not something you wanted to see at a party. With a hand that maintained smooth control even in this troubling situation he set down his glass of beer, and with the other whipped out his cell. Not messing up a key, he dialed the number of his boss, who was not going to be very happy. Viktor sure wasn’t.

"Allo, Vince," Viktor murmured quietly into the phone, not wanting to cause unnecessary panic should someone around him hear. "Ve have got a problem. A bomb."

A good rule to follow: always report things before taking action.

OOC: Sorry this took forever! If you've got any issues with it just tell me and I'll fix the post |D

[DODES]

‘Twas perfect. The room glowed dimly in a temperate radiance, and within it people chattered on, smiled, laughed, and drunk to their heart’s content… at least, that’s what I did. It was almost… too perfect, really, but then again, I had a bit too much alcohol in me. So much so, I hardly knew what to think anymore.

Damien stood beside me, and we had been joking about something or other moments before, but now, silence fell between us, and I was left gazing at the crowd as it buzzed with life. Boredom had begun to set in, however, smothering me the same way a large amount of earth would smother a fire. The fidgeting set in, and my fingers drummed on the nearby table. I had only commenced doing this for only a few moments before the ‘fire’, as I now liked to call it, was ready to burst to life once more. “Hey Vit—”

Ringing interrupted me, and I pondered for a moment, mulling over why the sound was so familiar…

Then it hit me like a bitch slap to the face. My phone. My phone was ringing. Now flustered, it took me another few seconds just to simply retrieve it from the right pocket, considering the multitude of secret compartments this, for lack of a better word, stupid suit had. By now, the desperation had sunk in, and once flipping the phone open, this same desperation caused me to say breathlessly, “Hello?!” I, however, relaxed once I heard the voice respond on the other line, but tensed again once I realized who that voice belonged to. “Allo, Vince,” Viktor replied, and despair panged within me.

Okay… perhaps I was exaggerating, but really, what could possibly be so important that he needed to call me for? And why was he speaking so quietly? I could hardly discern his words from the party commotion unfolding around me, and strained merely to hear him once he spoke next. “Ve have got a problem,” he continued, and I waited. “A bomb.”

I froze then, all my previous irritation draining from me, leaving only the buzz of liquor behind. I questioned my ears, and for a moment I struggled to speak, the process of forming words suddenly becoming something as complex as a complicated algebra problem. Eventually, however, after a few seconds of time had lapsed, I somehow managed a sensible reply. “I apologize… I’m, uh… really drunk—vhat did you say?” I asked, maybe a bit too loudly. I must have misheard what he had said, though, right? He couldn’t possibly have said bomb just now, could he? Unless, perhaps he meant that this party was da bomb. If that was the case, then I must agree. But no matter how much I had tried to convince myself of this, some rational, perhaps miniscule part of my brain that was unaffected by alcohol didn’t seem to believe me, and some emotion like fear or dread whirled within me. ‘Just think, Vince. Just think, for god’s sakes, think,’ my mind chided, and my drunken self struggled to comply. He wouldn’t call me just to tell me that the party was da bomb, now, would he…? No, I must have heard him right… which would, in turn, mean that this building could possibly explode at any moment.

Well, that sobered me up.

“Hold on a sec,” I mumbled to Viktor before pressing the phone to my chest and averting my gaze toward Damien, once again searching for words. However, nothing came. Nothing but the phrase, ‘Houston, we have a problem,’ and just to prove the fact that I was far from sober, I had to suppress the odd, maniac laughter that suddenly bubbled within me. But now was not the time to give Damien reason to question my sanity. “It’s Viktor. He’s…” I paused. This wouldn’t settle well with Damien, I knew, but there was no way I could soften the blow for him. I instead merely softened my voice, following Viktor’s example in order to prevent the news from being overheard and causing unnecessary panic. “Reported seeing a bomb.”

I turned away then, partly because Viktor was waiting on the phone, and partly because… well, I had to admit—I didn’t particularly want to see Damien’s initial reaction to such dreadful news. So I made myself useful and said into the mouthpiece to Viktor, “Vhere you at?”

OOC: I also apologize for the laggage in reply ._. I BLAME FINALS.

[AKREE]

Over-crowded places wasn’t really my thing, sure I would gladly go to a party or two, but I couldn’t help the flow of memories such activities sometimes dragged into the forefront of my mind, demanding attention. Normally I would much prefer skipping such activities altogether, doing something different. There was something about that sense of crowded carefree bodies packed together and unnerved me to the point where I would simply sit in a corner and watch other people enjoy themselves, however with Vince it was a whole different story, he would never forgive me if I didn’t tag along with him everywhere and as much as I would loath to admit, he had pulled up a rather odd party, a mix between his childish self which always demanded something different and alcohol. I was glad he enjoyed his indoor roller coaster though, considering how much money that thing cost. Instinctively my eyes drifted towards the tracks that looped and sunk into the walls of the room and I found myself smirking as I remembered when Vincent had first suggested it, the most troubling part of all was when I realized he was being serious.

Before we had been conversing and chuckling, but now silence fell between us both. An opportunity I took to quietly inspect every corner of the building, making sure no one was killing or strangling a guest or one of the hotel staff, which would be incredibly troubling. One of the balloons tied to the corner of the bar had popped, and its inanimate remains hung loosely on the side of the wooden bar. The roller coaster whooshed past, bringing with it a straying ‘whoop’ of one of its riders. A drunk vampire spilled their glass of beer and blood on a gal’s dress, receiving, for his troubles, a slap on the face.

The silence seemed to last too much for Vincent because he spoke.

“Hey Vit—”

Ringing.

My head rotated towards my friend, a brow arched in question, eyes digging into the pocket of his suit where the sound originated from. Vincent seemed to be equally puzzled, but instead of acting and pulling the phone out of his pocket he simply stood there with a thoughtful look on his face. I wondered briefly what he was thinking of before he picked up the phone an answered. I caught the tenor of the voice, but I couldn’t quite makeup the words or who it was. However, I simply patiently waited for Vince to reply, if it was important he would tell me, if it was not he would probably shrug it off. However the phone call held my attention at the moment, simply waiting to see if it was important or not.

His gaze seemed troubled, either that or surprised, I couldn’t really tell then it shifted into something like worry, which really caught my attention since it was, in my professional opinion, that Vince didn’t get troubled or surprised or worried for no apparent reason, so it must be that either he really didn’t expect that call or it must be something mildly disturbing. The possibility of his mother calling him home generated in my mind I had to stop myself from letting humor touch my expression. The image was almost too amusing, which made it even more amazing that I could maintain my face the patient mask it always was, or at least most of it.

”I apologize… I’m, uh… really drunk—vhat did you say?”

Wait, what?

It’s not that I doubted my dear friend being much too drunk to comprehend whatever it is whoever it was happened to be saying. What surprised me is that he was actually apologizing, since when did Vince apologize and it didn’t sound sarcastic. This must be really serious shit or else Vince really wanted to pull my leg, which hopefully it wasn’t it, because then I assure you he knew what strings to pull.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, turning his eyes towards me.

“It’s Viktor. He’s…”

Yes? Continue…

“Reported seeing a bomb.”

…

For a minute I had the urge to yell: “WHAT?” the yelling probably would make little bits of droll fall all over his face “BUT THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!” However, I managed to behave quite rationally, and before Vince had the chance to ask where Viktor was my eyes were already scanning every nook and cranny for his head and if this was a damn joke I’d have his head on a stake in front of my fucking office. My eyes narrowed, seconds ticked by… there! If Vince had already told me his location or not it hardly mattered, but I was sure I saw his hideous fucking head on a dark, distant corner of the fucking party. As soon as he was spotted my hand shot and wrapped around Vince’s wrist with the force necessary so unless he broke my wrist or something equally drastic there was no way in hell he would manage to get away. And sure I was aware Vince was not to blame, but when you’re quite pissed off, so to speak and a bomb has just been reported the last thing you’ll consider is hurting someone’s feelings with a wrist-grabbing-and-yanking-towards-the-other-end-of-the-accursed-room.

With that in mind I proceeded to yank him full speed ahead towards Viktor’s location. Dodging and even pushing people aside in a blind rage. If this was a joke I am quite sure more than one person would die tonight.

However much I preferred to strangle a few individuals rather than my eyes resting on what was obviously, a dangerous explosive, no people would die tonight of my strangling. In any case, they would die with their body parts scattered in a million pieces. I took a couple of seconds to register exactly what my eyes were seeing, I calculated that there were enough ‘boom’ here to bring down the whole building if need be and if that wasn’t enough a lovely timer rested on the bomb, exactly 18 minutes remained before the people here went ‘bye-bye.’ I had the odd notion that I was stuck in a bad movie and exactly when 1 minute remained the day would be saved. I had to stop the wave of laughter that bubbled within me.

I racked my brain for what we could do to ‘save the day.’

Patiently held my hand for Vince’s cell phone.

Wrapped my fingers around it and brought it before my eyes.

Calmly dialed the number I had in mind.

Waited for Williams, Rebecca to respond.

And said in my most pleasant voice imaginable.

“Ms. Williams would you please report yourself to the north west corner of the room? Our boss, Vincent, requires your presence.”


OOC: roooofl Damien's so pissed it's amusing. O.K., maybe not, I feel sorry for Vince though, I think Dammie took out his rage on his friend's wrist.

[rebecca]

If it wasn't for the fact that she was expected to attend this event, she probably would be at the shooting range. Although she hadn't put up quite a fuss, Rebecca had been quite frustrated when her sister, Riley, had won the coin toss between them. Like true sisters, they shared many similarities: they hated perfumes, they hated loud things, and as a result they hated social events where the women are doused in perfumes, and with the influence of liquor - are loud and very annoying. It had long since been agreed between them that only one Williams sister should attend. This time (and most of the time) it was Rebecca that found herself in a slinky red dress and walking around in heels.

The things she did for her sister, Rebecca thought as she rolled her eyes in exasperation. She had spent quite some time preparing for tonight's big event and judging by the look the hotel staffs were giving her, her efforts had paid off. The main lobby was already swarming with people - both human and vampires. She bet that the rest of the hotel was crawling with guests as well. As Rebecca scanned the area, she couldn't help but wonder if she was going to come out of this encounter alive. How she hated, hated, hated her situation. Why hadn't she called heads instead of tails?

She stood aside from the large crowds and the ever-present guests that were by the food and drinks. She had hoped to remain unnoticed, but to her dismay, she wasn't ignored. Impatiently, she waved away another member of the hotel staff - a waitress offering her some alcoholic beverage or something. She preferred not to drink. It's one of her weaknesses, but Rebecca really couldn't handle her liquor. She'd be tumbling out of her seat after a few glasses - and as a criminal, arsonist, and human she didn't like the loss of control. She was going to stick out as a sore thumb when everyone else got into their drinks. Already, some of the guests couldn't walk straight if their lives depended on it. She eyed the man nearby warily. She had spent a lot on this dress, and if his grasp on his wineglass slackened any further...

She stepped away, and not a moment too soon. For as soon as she did, the glass came tumbling down and smashed against the cool marble floors. There were screams, and quite a many whispered threats as the people around them checked their own appearance in panic. It was the party for their kind, and they wouldn't make a very good impression with wine spilled all over themselves.

Taking a moment to orientate herself, Rebecca regained her composure and headed further into the crowds. She would have felt anxious being so close to so many strangers if not for the fact that she had managed to sneak a few weapons in on her person. It was a good thing she had come to this event instead of Riley, Rebecca decided. Riley liked to bring a wrench with her as protection - something that definitely wouldn't sit well with the guests here. She smiled fondly at the thought of that.

The longer she spent in the main lobby, the more she grew to appreciate the ingenuity that was from the event's organizers. Although, she had to say the roller coaster did seem a bit out of place. She'll have to track down her bosses and congratulate them on their successful event. The party hadn't even started yet, but that was beside the point. Though she loathed to be a suck up, sometimes, the common niceties must be said.

And then her phone rang. Hastily, she pulled it out from the front of her dress. She looked around before finally seeing who was calling her. If it was Riley... "Oh what now?" Rebecca grumbled to herself as she recognized the caller ID. Think of the devil, and he calls on you. "Hello? This is Rebecca." She was all cool, professional intent. It was rare that Damien DiMarco called on her. Usually, she received her orders from her Head.

“Ms. Williams would you please report yourself to the north west corner of the room? Our boss, Vincent, requires your presence.”

"Of course, I won't be long." She relied tersely before putting her phone away. He had already hung up. It seemed like he was in quite a rush. Perhaps congratulations should be reserved until after the party was over with. It was a little too soon to tell if something was going to go wrong after all.

---

It didn't take her long to find her way through the crowd. Although, halfway through the trek, she had slipped out of her heels. She didn't need to be tottering around when her boss needed her - and needed her immediately. She had received a few odd looks from the guests, but she paid them no mind. She needed to slip past them quickly.

"What seems to be the problem?" She asked when she approached the three vampires standing quite casually together. If it wasn't for the rather urgent message, she wouldn't have expected that anything was amiss. She casually bent to put on her shoes once more.

-- is that okay? :S

[Viktor Romanov]

Viktor waited impatiently for his boss to respond on the other end of the line, glancing around the room in hopes of spotting him. He had just noticed the timer on the bomb, and his skin crawled as he thought of it being blasted off his bones. Unfortunately, he was not unfamiliar with bombs. On one occasion he had gotten hit by the shrapnel that resulted from one. The experience was not one he felt the need to repeat.

"I apologize… I'm, uh, really drunk--vhat did you say?"

You've got to be shitting me, Viktor thought in exasperation, slapping a hand to his forehead and letting it trail down his face slowly. The party had barely begun, and already Vincent was wasted. That's all they needed was a bunch of drunks running around trying to stop a bomb from blowing up nearly all the members of Izan. Headless chickens would have a better time of it, he was sure. Drunk headless chickens.

"A bomb," Viktor hissed back into the phone, trying to keep his voice down, although at this point he really felt like screaming. No answer came in return, though he could hear the faint sound of words. Probably Vincent relaying the news to someone, hopefully someone useful. Someone who knew how to dismantle a big mean nasty bomb. Viktor tried using his body to shield the bomb from the eyes of the many vampires and humans milling about before him. They were all so oblivious, enjoying the party, talking and laughing and letting alcohol trickle through their veins. While the thought of alcohol was still fresh in his mind, Viktor retrieved his glass of beer and sipped from it. The phone was still to his ear, but silence remained on the other end. This could be your last beer, an idiotic voice whispered in his head. Hell, no.

The foreshadowing that was being narrated by the idiotic voice in his head was interrupted by the sound of his boss's voice on the phone, asking his location. Viktor opened his mouth to respond, but before speech was made possible his eyes were drawn to the rhino making his way through the crowd, dragging a poor sap along with him who looked like he would soon need a new hand. As they drew nearer, Viktor recognized the rhino as the Head of Izan himself, and the poor sap was his boss. DiMarco looked furious. In fact, furious was an understatement. He looked as if he was ready to rip Viktor's head off. Now, that wasn’t something that he was too keen to see happen, so he stepped to the side of the bomb so as to allow DiMarco to see it. He debated on whether or not he should smile to acknowledge their being there, but this wasn’t exactly a very smiley situation. It was a frowny one. Fortunately, Viktor was very experienced with frowns.

Wasting no time, the Head of Izan took Vincent's phone and dialed someone who was, Viktor supposed, very skilled at the art of dismantling big mean nasty bombs.

Soon after, this Ms. Williams appeared on the scene. Asking what the issue seemed to be. By this point, Viktor was growing extremely impatient, and he couldn't stop himself from blurting it out. Hopefully neither of his bosses would decided to demote him to the position of 'mop'. Using his hair as the mop, of course.

"A bomb. Ve have about 16 minutes left before ve are all located in a billion places at once."

Now he took the time to ask a question that was really bothering him.

"How is zhis even possible?"

[DODES]

I soon discovered that requesting Viktor’s location was a pointless action, as I was suddenly grabbed by the wrist and yanked forward, and in my disorientation, the cell phone had nearly slipped from my grasp. I, by some miracle, managed to snap it shut instead as I was further yanked into the maze of bodies. It took me a moment to compose myself and register the back of Damien’s head, and even that seemed to be radiating a seething fury. I then decided against informing him of the fact that he was currently tearing my arm from its socket and strangling my wrist in his grasp. My undeniable annoyance, however, had deepened ever so quickly. With my frayed nerves and additional stress, all it took for my frustration to flare was another man shouldering me. Like a cloud of infuriated bees, angry thoughts swarmed in, and Damien grabbing me with the force that he had suddenly aggravated me. I had expected and understood that the news would bother him, but there was no need for him to drag me along as if my arm were a leash and I was the bad dog who had just peed on his vintage rug. He didn’t need to take it out on me.

I then realized how childish my thoughts sounded and attempted to interject myself with some understanding. He was simply worked up over the bomb, I reasoned… and so was I.

Not a moment too soon, Damien had come to a stop, and I hastily followed suit, acting as though this Damien hauling me by the arm through crowds was a perfectly normal occurrence, and noooo, of course my arm isn’t in agony. However, just as I began to compose myself in order to achieve this ‘acting normal’ I desired, I discovered that my alcohol induced mind had different plans. It seemed to be one step behind my body and, apparently, continued to think that I was still moving. I, however, was not, thus evoking the dizziness that currently ensued. I had closed my eyes for a brief moment in hopes of calming its effects, though this hardly helped any and I tried to ignore the feeling. During this time, Damien presented an overturned hand in my direction, and I blindly passed him my phone. This was done without him having to prompt me, as the cell phone was the only thing I currently held, so I merely assumed that’s what Damien was after. As it turns out, it was.

The dizziness passed, and for the first time I took in Viktor’s presence, and the bomb. I simply nodded toward Viktor, which could be taken as a mere nod of acknowledgement or a nod of silent thanks—whatever floated his boat. It hadn’t crossed my mind to actually present my gratitude aloud, which I’m sure was odd considering how he may have just spared every life in here just now, but I didn’t believe he needed it. I didn’t see the point in thanking him when it was, really, his own life that he was saving.

My attention then reached the inevitable it was avoiding—the bomb. Damien’s voice droned in the background as I gazed at it, and I hardly caught a thing he said. But it hardly mattered. I was simply too caught up in contemplation; the more I looked at the bomb, the more I realized just how little I actually felt. I knew I should have had a twinge of panic or something of the sort as I stared our possible killer in the face, but there was nothing there. Even if I willed it, only a wisp of some masked emotion arose, and I eventually gave up. I felt nothing. Perhaps a bit of disappointment as I watched the efforts of my tireless party planning diminish, much like the flame of a candle when a wind came along that was too strong for it, but this, compared to the anger and terror I should have felt, was nothing. Nothing at all.

Minutes ticked by; I thought of lighting a smoke to mend at least some of my frayed nerves, but then decided against it when I began imagining what might happen if a stray ember travelled in the vicinity of the explosive. Instead, I counted for means of distraction and, from no time at all it seemed, eighteen minutes had dissolved to sixteen in the agonizing wait for… well, whoever it was we were waiting for. I seemed to have missed that bit.

That little dilemma was quickly resolved, however, as a new presence soon joined the group moments later. Rebecca Williams. "What seems to be the problem?" she asked, and just as I was about to reply, Viktor stole the words from my mouth. "A bomb," he answered curtly, and added, for what seemed to me to be dramatic effect, "Ve have about 16 minutes left before ve are all located in a billion places at once." I merely looked at him, saying nothing to elaborate. He had explained our predicament fairly well, after all, and the less speaking on my part, the better. However, I decided it best for me to give Rebecca her orders as quickly as possible, but once again, as my mouth opened to do so, Viktor decided to speak instead. "How is zhis even possible?"

Now I was annoyed. The previous frustration I felt as Damien yanked me across the room was suddenly revived with Viktor’s, in my humble opinion, stupid inquiry. What he should have asked was, “How screwed are we?” because that was the real question being imposed here. Just how screwed are we if someone with this much explosive knew about the party and somehow managed to bypass security in order to implement those explosives? This I had tried (and failed) to explain calmly to Viktor. “Vell, obviously someone knew about dis little party we have here, valked in, put the bomb down, and valked out, planning to end it with a ‘bang’,” I replied, quite bitterly I might add, in a tone laced with sarcasm. I do believe I would have to work on this trying to explain things calmly.

“But that’s vhy you vere called, Villiams,” I said, switching to what I referred to as ‘Underboss Mode’ as I spoke to Rebecca. In Underboss Mode, my voice gained a monotonous quality, with underlying tones of what could be considered annoyance or even boredom. “I imagine you, as an explosive expert, vould know something about deactivating a bomb?” Otherwise I do not know why I would have hired you… I added subconsciously, but I had hired her, which would mean that she, indeed, had capabilities, and if anything, I was confident in my hiring means. I had faith in her… at least, I trusted her ability enough not to cower beneath a table as she proceeded in deactivating the explosive. Now that might just be embarrassing.

OOC: Ahahaha, now Vinnie's pissed. Poooor Viktor. Damien's pissedned was much more amusing, though.

[AKREE]

I had no real time to think about how this all could be possible, a bomb, in a hotel with a party as me in charge of security? Now, I admit that does sound a bit egocentric, but I was known for pulling up such tight security that not even a fly could buzz by without my knowing, so how the fuck did a bomb get here then? But the thoughts were quickly dismissed, since, after all this hardly mattered right now. Right now what mattered was to get the damn thing out of the way or run. But first I would prefer getting rid of the bomb in a calm and timely fashion since then we wouldn’t have the little party all over the newspaper and getting the media attention. Even if we did make it alive it wasn’t exactly for the best. However, I steered my thoughts away from the how’s and the what’s and the why’s and the when’s and simply concentrated on what needed to be done.

To get rid of the bomb.

However, my little fit of blind rage quickly dispersed as a pitching Vince caught at the corner of my eye. Immediately my attention turned towards whether he was going to fall flat on his face or not, a slight feeling of concern washing over me for just a few seconds, before relaxing when he managed to still himself. Of course, when I said “relaxing” I meant not turning my attention towards Vince and rather on the matter ahead, which is why I quickly held my hand up for his phone and made a call.

Minutes ticked by, every time I found myself glancing either at the bomb to watch the timer, at Viktor’s impassive expression or Vince’s mask of dreary seriousness. Even my normal patience was being drowned quicker than usual, since I, of course, wouldn’t mind waiting in a line, or something similar, but waiting when a bomb was going to explode besides you wasn’t exactly a situation that called for such extremes measures of patience. But I had no real choice other than crossing my arms over my chest and waiting.

Finally when she appeared I was prepared to take the nearest person by the throat and throw them in any which way as long as they got hurt and bad. However, I did manage a sarcastic, almost bitter smile when her first words caught my ears. ”What seems to be the problem?" she asked. And I merely made a vague gesture towards the problem while my superiors spoke. Since I wasn’t commonly known as the head of anything, it was rather not my place to explain while Viktor was quite eager to throw a rather spiteful and mean remark towards our little explosives expert. Keep no mind that this woman could probably save his sorry ass in a few seconds, in which case he could at least try to behave like a human (or vampire) being in what could either be the last minutes of his life or a rather promising and interesting bit of his life. “The day I went to that party and almost got my ass blown off.”

"A bomb, Ve have about 16 minutes left before ve are all located in a billion places at once” came his clipped and annoyed reply. He might as well have said something along the lines of: “Hey Pusscake! Open your fucking eyes and look at this lovely BOMB, go dismantle the fuck out of it NOW!” Of course I hardly found it polite to point out his lack of pleasantry at the moment.

"How is zhis even possible?"

Ah, fuck.

I was very glad to see that Vince looked just as annoyed by the question as I felt. After all, the wondering could come and go all it wanted once we weren’t distracting or interrupting our little explosives expert from her bomb-dismantling ways, keeping in mind that her skills and concentration might be very vital in these last few minutes, of course, this was just a theory. For all I knew pointless small talk would distract the explosive device and it would join in our conversation and speculate with us and by thus be distracted and cease its timer.

I was being sarcastic of course.

”Vell, obviously someone knew about dis little party we have here, valked in, put the bomb down, and valked out, planning to end it with a ‘bang’,” was Vince’s helpful reply, said in a rather matter-of-fact tone, but I was used to listening to him so I could easily pick up the vibes of annoyance that escaped his drunken self. It was nice to know he could somehow reason within his lovely haze of alcohol. ”But that’s vhy you vere called, Villiams,” he turned his head towards the only lady in the group, his last-name-slaughtering such a familiar point of comedy it almost brought a tear of emotion to my eye. Too bad I wasn’t expressing any. “I imagine you, as an explosive expert, vould know something about deactivating a bomb?”

With that said I quietly slid into Vince’s side, allowing Ms. Williams the room necessary for her to inspect the bomb and also moving away from her light source, after all, reminding oneself that a human’s vision wasn’t so keen in the dark as a vampire’s seemed like a lovely thing to be aware of in a moment of crisis. I had also stepped closer to Vince’s side because I expected some orders being fired at me for the next couple of moments, since it was rather impolite to let people be unaware of their impending doom. “Should I contact security?” my voice was flat and emotionless, but it was also low as to not interrupt anyone.

Hopefully my lovely friend would catch on and begin firing rapid orders, like evacuating people, or at least giving a perimeter on how far we should be from this bomb, asking what kind of tools Ms. Williams would need, asking Viktor to stop the stupid questions, that being head of Intel was no excuse and that everything had its time amongst other lovely things similar to that. After all, I was simply his employee, in the end, so I must always abide by my head’s orders.

OOC: Rofl, Damien took Vincent’s celly for the call, so unless the telephone has advanced alien technology… rofl, it’s ok it was amusing I just thought I’d point it out. And Henry, remember no one knows Damien’s the head honcho there >8B

[rebecca]

Apparently, someone had decided the party needed a little livening up, a bit of spark. And they had also taken that sentiment to a whole new level. If Rebecca ever found out who put the god damned bomb in this place, she'd personally wring their neck! It wasn't enough that she was here in the first place, no, her life was also at risk. Rebecca looked around at the masses. On second thought, Perhaps, she was being too selfish, the vampires here are also very much oblivious to the threat to their lives. Although the vampires here are immortal, the humans were not and even the vampires may have some trouble surviving being blown up into a million pieces.

It was no wonder why she had been called here. The last time she had checked, Rebecca was pretty sure being blown up into smithereens did not make one's night. Crossing her arms, she cast a good look around to her companions. No doubt they were not happy with the turn of events. They were sniping quietly at one another in their tension. There wasn't much time left, barely fifteen minutes, really. Yet they were all standing there, doing nothing about it.

She had been considering the bomb in the rather poor lighting- the design was rather sturdy, a much more recent and very dangerous model - when one vampire, Vince, addressed her directly. He should have known better than to ask her such a stupid question, not that she'll tell him that of course. It was rather insulting to ask if she would be able to deactivate the bomb. "Of course." She opted to answer instead. It wasn't very professional to roll her eyes at her boss, especially when he definitely wouldn't miss such a gesture.

Thankfully, one vampire had realized that yes, she was human. He moved to the side, allowing her a better view of the menace. She briefly shot him a thankful smile before kneeling down to get a better look at the bomb. Although she felt quite exposed with her back facing a large crowd, she knew that their survival depended on her survival and ability to stop the stupid ticker. Besides, she was sure her boss would make sure to keep her alive long enough for the task.

That rather irritated her though. If he was planning a party for anyone that was anyone in their world, why the hell - no, how the hell did a bomb get in here?! IZAN was meant to be a discreet yet powerful organization but the current turn of events was rather disappointing to Rebecca. If she was anyone else or in any other situation, she definitely would've made her displeasure known. However, these men were not people anyone wanted to toy with, therefore, she kept her displeasure to herself. No doubt, Riley would love to hear about it later - after the bomb is disabled, of course.

“Should I contact security?”

Rebecca almost snorted aloud, something rather odd coming from her. She usually was in complete control of herself, but perhaps the tension was getting to her too. But honestly, there's a bomb in the building and he's still wondering about if he should call security or not? "I'll need some equipment. And perhaps a distraction?" It would be rather odd to have one woman in a rather inconspicuous read dress bending over in a corner surrounded by three men.

[Viktor Romanov]

A few moments after his last smart remark, Viktor realized that he was being annoying and should probably shut his trap. Doing this might save his ass from being beaten in until he could no longer sit down. If that were to happen he would be rather displeased, as he did not enjoy spending all of his time on his feet. Because believe it or not, although he was a vampire, it did grow tiring after a while. So without further ado he proceeded to making sure his lips were pursed except to occasionally take a sip from what could be his last beer.

Honestly, he probably didn’t feel as shaken up by this bomb as most others. Of course, his boss and the lot he was dealing with now didn’t seem to be very rattled themselves, but they were excluded from his definition of 'others'. Bombs usually were pretty serious things. But it wasn’t that the bomb didn’t strike Viktor as serious, it was just that he had dealt with these things enough before that they only really inspired a slight tingling sense of demise. Other than that, he was just eerily calm. Maybe more of a smartass than usual, which is probably the only reason he had bothered saying so much already. Generally, he was the type of man to hand out clipped responses. His (admittedly) idiotic comments were a bit out of character, and later on he would probably need to spend a few hours at his dwelling punching his punching bags until he felt as though he had earned back the feeling of true manhood. A feeling that he did not feel confident to leave his home without. And what better way to feel like a man was there than beating the shit out of a metaphorical enemy? Angry music might help too, of course.

Viktor was currently standing out of the way of the Ms. Williams who was here to deactivate the bomb. A serious, overcast look had come over his face, and he half listened to the bickering going on between the group as the tension made itself known in these subtle ways. His silence was out of refusal to be subjected to any more of this said tension, which would only go towards annoying him to the point of sharp remarks and a scathing vocabulary. Which, clearly, would not help the situation any. What would be helpful was made known by the voice of Ms. Williams.

"I'll need some equipment. And perhaps a distraction?"

Her voice disrupted Viktor's stoic reverie, and the gears in his mind started whirring as he tried to think of an adequate distraction. He had used to be a spy, so he should be a real genius with such things. However, the amount of parties he had been to were few and far between, as he usually was not the type to involve himself with them. But he really did wish to help, and so he made an attempt at being useful.

"Maybe ve could 'ave a dance?" he muttered. Then he suggested an idea that might not only be distracting but also rather embarrassing to himself. "Or, I could act very drunk, and make myself look like idiot in front of all zhe Izan."

OOC: Sorry it took me so long to reply. Over the weekend we moved back to my old house that was being worked on and it took me a while to get my computer hooked back up! DX

[DODES]

Despite the presence of the bomb, the guests continued to mingle with one another, completely unaware of their impending doom. It was a bit unnerving, in a way, for the four of us to be mulling over our very survival while the party went on without us. It was almost as though we were detached, in a different world. Or perhaps it was only me who was detached, in a different world—my own world, filled with drunken thoughts. In fact, my mind switched from one subject to another with such haste that everything else seemed sluggish in comparison. For instance, Rebecca seemed to move in slow motion as she knelt toward the bomb, and her words took time to register within my mind. "Of course," she had said, and I merely observed listlessly as she examined the explosive. I mean, it wasn’t as if I had anything better to do. Or rather, I was unable to think of anything better to do.

It was Damien with his usual void of emotion who brought the error of my ways to my attention. “Should I contact security?” he asked me, and although this made me realize that I should be giving orders rather than vacant stares, I still merely nodded in response, distracted with the effort of trying to steer my thoughts into the right direction. This was a bit difficult, mind you, as my thoughts milled about with the similar chaos you would expect from ants that milled about without a queen, and as you can imagine, it was a challenge to get them back into line. And of course, just as I reined them into thinking about what exactly Damien should instruct security to do on his call, Rebecca interrupted my train of thought to say, "I'll need some equipment. And perhaps a distraction?"

She had brought up some valid points. Of course equipment would be needed to dismantle such a life-threatening device. A chimpanzee would know that much. So then why had I not thought of it? And a distraction… is that really what we needed?

My God. This was asking too much from a drunk man.

However, on a brighter note, Viktor had taken my hint, as he did not interrupt again. At least, this is what I had thought, but to my grave disappointment, I was proven wrong as soon as he piped up once more. "Maybe ve could 'ave a dance? Or, I could act very drunk, and make myself look like idiot in front of all zhe Izan," he muttered in what I supposed was a helpful suggestion, and although the latter of the two seemed most appealing, I knew now that a distraction was not what we needed. No, this party was over the moment Viktor had contacted me, and it would be senseless to try and salvage it now. What we needed was to get these people out of the building and out of danger. If the perpetrators were at all intelligent, they would have implemented more than just one bomb, or perhaps set up some other diabolical plan, and if that were indeed the case, it would be better to be safe rather than sorry, now, wouldn’t it? “That’ll have to vait for another time, Romanov,” I replied in a measured tone, then shifted my gaze to Rebecca when I spoke next. “There’ll be no distraction needed. Saving their own asses’ll be distracting enough.” I then gestured toward Viktor. “Romanov vill get vhatever equipment you’ll need, Villiams, since… vell, if he starts making suggestions that horrible, he really needs something to do,” I said as a light scolding—not that his suggestions were all that bad… I mean, I was all for the last one—I even had to suppress a drunken bout of laughter as I imagined Viktor doing such a thing—but I decided that we did not need a distraction, and therefore his suggestion was meaningless.

My gaze now focused on Viktor himself as I addressed him next. “I suspect that things like flashlights and pliers can be found in the hotel’s supply closet. Just get vhatever she asks you.” With that, I moved on to the last (but certainly not least) person in need of instructing; Damien. “Vito, on your call to security, tell them that I vant this building evacuated immediately. No one from Izan is to come within a 100 metre radius of the hotel.”

Despite being drunk, it seems that I still managed to think critically and come to reasonable decisions. It simply took longer to process, which, I’ll admit, was not helping the situation. But ah hell, we still had fourteen minutes…

Oh wait, make that thirteen.

[AKREE]

Although I admit I was rather good at staying silent and observing this situation had my nerves in a slight mess, making me almost want to scream my head off when Vincent and Romanov continued to bicker like little girls, now I know I probably wasn’t the only one, Williams too seemed like she could chew a few heads off. However I stilled my urges and simply waited for the two bosses to notice the error of their ways and kindly shut the fuck up. It was almost embarrassing to see Vincent try to process any words directed his way in his drunken stupor and I had to overcome the strong urge to slap him until he snapped out of it, but he did seem to handle it better than most. At least better than Viktor who had been babbling his little head off a while ago and now was promptly shutting his trap when he noticed his stupidity, which was of great relief, I’ll let you know.

Williams kneeled down in front of the bomb and I decided to turn my attention towards Vincent, who currently seemed to be struggling with some kind of great internal conflict or the alcohol was affecting his brain badly, worst than I thought. For a minute I had the urge to ask him if I should order these idiots around, after all, I am quite sure if I can control a whole organization without anyone knowing my identity I can handle giving some instructions to some buffoons, but before I had a chance to have a little chat with him Williams spoke up, handing a very helpful suggestion. "I'll need some equipment. And perhaps a distraction?"

All of which were plausible suggestions, but the one I deemed most important would be the equipment, this was necessary to disarm the bomb plus the timer made the situation all the more pressing and dire. What was perhaps even more frustrating than all those elements, however, was the fact that no one seemed to be acting quickly enough, conversations that would normally last half a minute were stretching into three and four minutes, it was almost like everyone was going in slow motion, in fact too slow for me. "Maybe ve could 'ave a dance? Or, I could act very drunk, and make myself look like idiot in front of all zhe Izan," was Viktor’s rather idiotic suggestion, I found myself holding back a sigh of frustration, it felt like I was dealing with a bunch of idiots, maybe it was that the bomb was making me tense thus affecting my normally brilliant patience, but by god, I really just wished I could make them see reason somehow, sadly for me that was in a galaxy far far away where such things could be possible.

”That’ll have to vait for another time, Romanov,” interrupted Vincent, thank God, ”There’ll be no distraction needed. Saving their own asses’ll be distracting enough.” Oh? So he was telling these people they were about to die? Although that might create the chaos necessary to make both a very good distraction and enough of a mess to drag the media up our asses it was the most sensible choice I could think about. Good job, props to you Vince! “Romanov vill get vhatever equipment you’ll need, Villiams, since… vell, if he starts making suggestions that horrible, he really needs something to do,” Ah, I missed my friend’s sarcastic remarks. You got to admit Vincent is the only person capable of leading a mafia while drunk and yet bring humor to a situation as serious as a bomb. Normally I might’ve broken into an amused fit of chuckles, but I thought that would be rather uncalled for in this situation.

“I suspect that things like flashlights and pliers can be found in the hotel’s supply closet. Just get vhatever she asks you.” he finished saying. I quickly turned my attention to Viktor “There’s a couple of supply rooms scattered around the hotel, the nearest one would just be outside of the hall to your right,” I didn’t want Viktor to get lost and I had practically committed the hotel’s blueprints to memory, so I might as well give him some sort of directions/help, for something that had to be useful other than knowing which would be the quickest exists and possible windows and openings to shoot people from.

“Vito, on your call to security, tell them that I vant this building evacuated immediately. No one from Izan is to come within a 100 metre radius of the hotel.” were his clipped directions. I nodded once, adding a quick “Understood,” before turning my back from the commotion and reaching for the walkie talkie.

I shoved the ear piece into my right ear and muttered a few words which summarized to calling all of security to listen well and listen clear. “We have a bomb on the premises, the underboss has ordered a hundred meter perimeter, evacuate the people, now, clock’s ticking,” after the brief message there were a few remarks and comments on how the orders should be carried out and soon enough security entered through the doors of the building calmly, at least now, when the people would be informed it would be total chaos.

I returned loyally to Vince’s side, nodding once and adding “Security has been informed, sir.”

[rebecca]

It was rather disconcerting how inefficient her boss and superiors were. It was downright depressing, actually. They were going to be blown up into tiny pieces before a course of action was determined if they didn't get a move on. Two of the vampires, her boss Vincent Fromm and a superior, Viktor Romanov both seemed to be drunk off their rockers. Rebecca decided to be a little lenient and chalk their indecisiveness up to their alcoholic intake. Another reason why she never touched much of the rich liquor. Being robbed of her senses and common sense scared her. But so did losing her life.

Thankfully, her suggestion did not go ignored. She'd have been pretty pissed if it was, seeing as it was a valid suggestion. However, she was very close to smacking the drunkard - or more specifically, Romanov. She was very well aware of the fact that she was just a human and he was a very powerful vampire. It didn't matter, he was distracting with his talking and less than helpful suggestions. She rolled her eyes and bit back a scathing retort while Vincent didn't bother and let out quite a sarcastic jibe at the man. It was a shame, she had always thought he was efficient and quite fearsome. Maybe the stress was getting to her.

Instead of dwelling on her rather unpleasant companions at the moment, she focused on the bomb once more, thinking about the tools she'll need. Although it was highly dangerous, this one would be deactivated but not without providing her with some challenge. She can already see herself doing it as she went through the process in her mind. "Of course,"" She replied evenly to her boss when he had assigned Romanov to the task of procuring her equipment, without taking an eye off her bomb. Yes, her bomb. Already she was feeling quite attached to the damned thing. The damned thing that might just kill every being in the surrounding area.

While the others discussed the security measures that would need to be taken, Rebecca turned to the vampire that was assigned to fetch her the necessary equipment. However, she paused when she heard of the location of the storage room and reconsidered. "Actually, if it's that close, I'd prefer it if I go as well. I'd rather pick the equipment than risk Mr. Romanov getting the wrong one and wasting more time. The bomb isn't going to sprout legs and walk off." She reasoned. There was about twelve minutes left. Disassembling the bomb wouldn't take long, but she feared that her suggestion would lead them to take more time to consider it. She changed her mind hastily, time was of the essence after all. " Never mind. It's too much of a hassle."

She got up and stalked off to a nearby table and grabbed a napkin. She passed a waiter and grabbed his pen. With her neat if not a little skewed print, she listed out the necessary equipment, folded it, and passed it to Romanov. "That should be about it. Please don't waste time. Or get lost, Rebecca thought. Who knows what the vampire would do? It made her a little nervous, having to wait for someone else to come through to save her own hide.

OOC: I'm sooo sorry I took so long!

[AKREE]

Skipping Viktor

skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip

It's Vincent's turn now
viktor went in search of the tools, he left the room, carry along now.

[DODES]

‘I need a cigarette.’

No longer was it, ‘I want a cigarette,’ or ‘A smoke would be nice right now.’ No—now it was need. The random urges from earlier had evolved into full blown compulsions, though this was inevitable since, well, these sudden cravings for cigarettes often occurred while I was irritated, and hell, was I irritated. But, surprisingly enough, said irritation had not derived from Viktor’s time wasting, or even the fact that there was a bomb ready to explode right next to me. No, those were what I liked to refer to as the things that made life interesting—the real source for my raw nerves was the fact that I was drunk during the occurrences of these things that made life interesting. There was just something about having too many whiskeys or vodkas or whatever the hell it was I had that seemed to drown my mind, making the thoughts swimming around in there as slippery and evasive as an eel. Now normally, the feeling of my head submersed in water was, surprisingly, not something I would mind, but at moments where the speed and genius of my thoughts were of vital importance, like now let’s say, being under the influence was rather inconveniencing. And that’s what aggravated me. The fact that these perpetrators, whoever they happened to be, liked to kick me while I was down—or in this case, drunk.

Stupid bastardly cowards. They must’ve known that they couldn’t handle The Vince sober.

…Then again, it wasn’t as if I was actually doing much at the moment. The dismantling of the killer bomb was more Rebecca’s doing, and the security ordering was Damien’s—hell, even Viktor had something to do—while I merely stood there, craving a cigarette, thinking ‘well… this is productive. Maybe I should do something,’ which was followed by yet another bout of doing nothing. Perhaps if I gazed intently at the bomb, like Rebecca was, it would give the illusion that I was thinking of doing something. It seemed to be working fairly well for her. Hell, the intense stare down she currently shared with the bomb did not even falter when I told her Viktor would be retrieving whatever equipment she would need. Or even when Damien recited the directions to the nearest storage closet to Viktor—which, mind you, I’m certain would have salvaged plenty of time in the long run. It amused me how Damien, the assassin who took much joy in killing people, now had an active part in saving lives. The irony of such a situation had not eluded me, but at the risk of looking like a drunken madman, I had to forbid myself the humoured smile.

However, it was then that Rebecca’s intense bomb stare down ended. She stood to face Viktor, no doubt telling him what she would need. At least, this is what I assumed until she suddenly announced, "Actually, if it's that close, I'd prefer it if I go as well. I'd rather pick the equipment than risk Mr. Romanov getting the wrong one and wasting more time. The bomb isn't going to sprout legs and walk off." I pondered this for a moment, and yes, it is true that the bomb would not walk off, but she could, which is why I was, admittedly, a tad wary of Rebecca’s suggestion. When a high rank in a large, criminal organization such as Izan, one always had to expect the worst. For instance, right now I expected Rebecca to walk in the direction of the storage closet, disappear around the corner, and leave. Yep, just depart from the building, and since a mass of people would be evacuating anyway, it wouldn’t appear out of the ordinary, now, would it? I mean, if I didn’t give a shit about Izan’s welfare and if I didn’t have such a high ranking position, that is, indeed, what I would do. Or, at least, the thought would enter my mind at least once. Which could explain my relief me when she said, "Never mind. It's too much of a hassle."

My thoughts exactly.

So now that that time waster was over, Viktor and Rebecca got down to it, while I still stood, doing absolutely nothing. But now I wasn’t really complaining since, well, I was so intoxicated, I doubted I could sign my own name at the moment, much less help evacuate a building or disarm a deadly weapon. I was really beginning to think that, yeah, me doing nothing was for the best.

Now that I was back to doing nothing, I realized that, again, I still needed a smoke. But that image of an ashy cigarette ember somehow drifting too close to the explosive and then somehow causing its detonation was enough for me to hold off on engaging my horrible habit. For now, at least. But in the meantime, I decided to strike up some sort of conversation that would, hopefully, fend off my nicotine cravings, and thus I said, “So, some party, eh?” Now whether or not this was sarcasm was for these two fellow Izan members, Damien and Rebecca, to decide.

Moments after I spoke, however, a hushed murmur suddenly fell over the room. A quick glance toward the doors informed me that security had found its way to this part of the hotel, and it seemed that their presence caused an immediate response. The music, the chatter, the laughter—it all gradually faded to a silent dread. The occasional low whisper would trickle through the quiet, but otherwise, the once jovial atmosphere was promptly oppressed a sinister silence.

The party had ended for me awhile ago, but now it was ending for everyone else, too.

The people here weren’t stupid. They knew, then, that something had gone wrong, and as soon as one of the security muttered that the building would need to be evacuated immediately, the room exploded with noise and movement, much like it had moments earlier as bodies rushed, in a semi-orderly fashion, toward the exit.

It was nice to see people doing their jobs.




OOC: ._. I, too, apologize for taking an unbelievably long time for this.