Double-Double Crossed

A man stood alone on a street corner in Paris, France, playing the violin and collecting money in a hat placed on the ground. He was exceptionally good, and got several requests to play at private parties, to each he answered "I can try, but I cannot make a promise. I have an erratic schedule, you see." His name was Voltaire, but out here, he was Jackson Levian Quincetus. And the man watching over him to keep him safe, he was Blain Salexia, but out here, he was Terran Iberius. They were both Assassins, or Reapers, or Repos, whatever you wish to call them. But, they had their own proffesions when not on the job. Blain was a doctor, and Voltaire was a famous violinist. They loved their jobs, both on marks and as civilians. They had many friends, but only the two of them knew who each other really was.

(Was that good?)

{{Off to a good start. We have to wait for Movie and etnrlpirate to post their intros before we can start. And if no one else will join I'll double up to balance the scales.}}

(yola! may i join as a repo?)

{{Atticus! But of course mi hermano ^-^ will you be putting up a bio or an intro?}}

(um, probly just a bio )

{{Alright then. I tink I'm gonna close off on others joining now, we have plenty to work with now. Once everyone has their respectable intros and bios, we'll begin.}}

Name- Zidane Klauser (pron. "Zi-don Clow-zer")
Age- 22
Appearance- Example 1:

Spoiler:

Example 2:

Spoiler:

Organization- Repos
City of Location- Athens, Greece
Extra- 2nd job as a street performer in Athens. More clever than most Repos, can use magic in the process of killing marks.

{{hmm, Atticus...what type of magic? Are you talking perfomance magic like the art of illusion? Or like...black magic?}}

(well, it all depends if i'm allowed to use black magic xD)

(edit: maybe veeeeeery light black magic, not anything to kill anyone or something)

{{It's present day...so maybe the art of illusion would fit in better than actual Black magic depending on your siutation...xD}}

(hmm...ok, ill see how it plays along xP)

A young man stood behind a window looking out into the city without an emotion on his face. He was about five stories from the ground, but not quite the top floor of the appartment building. He shook his head seeing nothing of interest and turned around. It had been a month or so sinse his last mission, and he tended to get a bit jumpy after a while. He walked over to a closet pulling out a dark pair of jeans and a long sleeved red shirt. He currently had on a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt because he didn't mind the way he looked while he was at his house. He changed rather quickly walking over to a counter getting himself ready to go. He slipped a watch onto his right hand, grabbed a hand gun sliding it in a holster under his left arm, and a small knife strapping it to his ankle. Feeling confident enough to go, he grabbed a black jacket and set off.
Once outside, the man walked briskly in the London air, moving as fast as possible to get to his work place. He had a steady job at a museum working as a tour guide. It was an easy job that had absolutely no changes in it except for the different people with different cameras walking in and out of the place. Being born and raised in England, it was easy for him to know facts about the place, and he found out later that tourists liked listening to people with the country's original accent. He shrugged it off checking his watch, it was plated with onyx, the only sign that he was a part of the Devies.
He looked up seeing the museum and quickly stepping inside. He went to the front counter and smiled at a woman who said, "Good morning Harry, how are you?"
"Pretty well thanks," he said grabbing his name-tag and tour guide paper before quickly walking off. Of course Harry wasn't his real name, it was Nathan James. The only people that knew him and lived called him Nate however. He had friends as Harry, but Harry Allen wasn't a real person. Clearing his throat he walked up to the first tour group.

ooc: Hope that works XD I couldn't think of much to write seeing as he didn't have a mission for the time being.

{{Awesome! I like the watch idea, very nice. I think we just need an intro from E.T. and we'll be ready to go}}

ooc: haha thanks, I was trying to think of what a guy would wear lol =P

((Oh my goodness! I am terribly sorry for the wait! Finally done picking at my intro xP))

“Um, scusarmi, Signora? Signora?” A gruff voice caught her attention and she turned her head towards its source. The man held out a hand towards the bag lying on the bar in front of him. “Do you mind?” Her eyes narrowed at the impatience in his voice and her impulses almost got the better of her. She let out a slow breath and released her dagger, allowing blood to flush her knuckles. She allowed the weapon to rest on her hip as it dangled from her belt. She tore her scathing emerald eyes from the man and removed her bag, placing it, instead, on a stool beside her. She slowly and deliberately took a sip of her ice-water, calming herself from the inside out and continued wiping empty glasses. That was one of the things she hated about owning a bar: the incredibly rude people. The man rapped his fingers on the bar and she glared at him once more. He asked for a drink and she reluctantly poured the liquid into an empty glass. She let out a low growl in the back of her throat when the man didn’t offer any thanks and sat on an empty stool.

She took a breath and her eyes wandered to the faded name tag attached to the handle of her bag. The candles scattered throughout the tavern offered just enough light for her to read the name: Jetta Ward. Her eyebrows knit together and she pushed her dark brown hair behind her ears, ignoring the bangs that fell around her eyes, her fingers brushing against the string that held her black onyx stone distinguishing her as a Devie and not a simple Repo. She gently traced the chain around her neck until she hit the onyx pendant that fell just past the soft spot of her neck. She rested her chin on slender fingers and narrowed her eyes at the tag. She hadn’t heard that name in many years, despite it being her birth name. She gently touched the plastic, moving it to face a nearby candle. Apparently, she had just celebrated her 23rd birthday two days earlier according to the date of birth.

“Happy birthday, Jetta…” she muttered in her slight British accent. She shoved her name tag into an open pocket of her bag. The minor outburst shook her glass and caused a few strangers to glance up at her.

‘How could I forget my own birthday?’ Jetta asked herself. She closed her eyes and looked back two days. What was she doing?

‘Grazi, Sergio.’ She sighed, walking over the threshold into his apartment. He gave her a peck on the cheek as he closed the door behind them and beckoned for her to follow him into the living room. The space was so neat and yet it held a sentimental air that she yearned for. It almost made her feel regretful.

He offered her a drink, which she gratefully accepted. She glanced around her as she took off her jacket and tossed it beside her on the couch. Numbers of pictures of landscapes and abstractly taken photographs caught her attention and she found herself smiling. The reaction was pure and unsettling to her. She allowed herself to slowly fall to the couch beneath her, careful her dagger didn’t show.

‘Alisa.’ She turned at the name, smirking at Sergio handing her a glass of wine. Oh, if he only knew.

“Scusarmi.”

Jetta was pulled out of her reverie by yet another greedy patron ordering another drink. She complied to their wish and nodded as they thanked her and disappeared in the crowd. She sighed and closed her eyes again.

Time slipped through their fingers. The only way she could keep up was with the notable change in the light through the windows. It was darker than she planned. Jetta took one final sip from her glass and placed it on the table in front of them. She chuckled at the remark Sergio gave and glanced up at a clock hanging just above their heads. She let out a gasp and leapt to her feet, pulling her jacket on quickly.

‘It is really late!’ she stated, walking around Sergio. He stood up with her and offered to walk her to the door. She smiled at him and allowed the escort. They said there ‘good nights’ and he leaned towards her. She offered a smirk and turned to kiss his cheek.

‘Farewell.’ She unsheathed her dagger and forced the blade deep into his abdomen. She heard him gasp and she gave the handle a twist before pulling the weapon out. She stared into his eyes as she grasped his shirt and wiped the blade clean. She almost felt sorry as his knees buckled and his body ended up a heap on the floor, but she caught a glimpse of the clock and all feeling of remorse disappeared. She had just barely made the deadline.

Jetta took a deep breath and blinked repeatedly, glancing around her tavern. Oh, now she remembered why her birthday happened to slip her mind. A smile found its way tugging at the corners of her lips and she tended to unnecessarily wiping down the bar. “Good times.” She muttered, making a mental note of her latest victim. “Two weeks well spent.”

{{SWEETNESS! Let the games begin!}}

Miah sipped at her drink carefully. She held the glass up to the candlelight, smiling at the rich golden color. 56 was always a good year. Taking another small sip, Miah pulled up the collar on her denim jacket to conceal the tatto on the side of her neck, lower near her shoulder. Despite the heat of the summer afternoon, she was still wearing her jacket over her fitting red tank top and loose denim capris.

Flexing her fingers on the hand that didn't grasp her glass, Miah let her eyes wander, smiling lightly at the pleasent little tavern. It was nice, and quiet, only the soft music from mistrels playing outside on the streets. Standing, Miah walked over to the bar.

"Any specilities for today?" Miah asked, grinning over her glass at the woman behind the bar. She had changed a bit, but Miah recognized her. Though the name at the moment escaped her. Pushing her black shades up, Miah placed her glass down, having drained the contents before smiling at Jetta. "Or nothing good for ol' time sakes?"

((lol yay!))

A familiar voice rang through her ears and almost made her drop the glass in her hands. She stood frozen as she tried to make sense of who she thought she heard. It couldn’t be. It had been months, close to a year since they’d last seen each other. She must be making some mistake. Jetta gently placed the glass on the bar and turned towards the woman who spoke. A smile plastered itself on her lips as her breath caught in her throat.

“Miah.” Jetta sighed, slowly walking to meet her. She tugged at her black off-the-shoulder shirt and leaned forward, the holes in her jeans allowing her thighs to touch wood. “Hmm, I can't be sure off the top of my head, but for you…” She muttered, glancing down the length of the bar. She gently grabbed an empty glass and drowned it in an ice bucket. She poured out excess cubes and placed the glass in front of her, pushing it towards Miah with a smile. “Enjoy.”

Miah sucked in a quiet breath. So she did remember her real name. Miah hadn't exactly been sore. Smiling geniually, she nodded, reaching a hand up to cover her neck absentmindedly as she leaned against the bare. With her foot, Miah pulled over a bar-stool and sat on it gingerly.

"I'm surprised I found you actually." Miah said, sipping at her drink, nodding in approval. "Last time I showed up you were out of town. Business is booming huh?" it was formality, but Miah was being serious. She knew she could always come here and escape from the 'heat'. Miah had actually used the backroom once or twice, granted both those times it had been without Jetta's knowing since she had been out of the city, but still. It was a comforting fact.

"Love these first classes flights." Oliver murmured as he was busy toying with his iPhone. Keia turned her blue eyes to him and sighed shaking her head, "Enjoy it while it lasts, we can't look too suspicous so next flight if with the crowd." He glanced up at her before leaning back on to his seat. She opened up the small journal and opened to the page where a red ribbon was placed. It was a small list of names neatly lined together and she pulled out a fine tipped pen, crossing out one.
"So anything new?" she asked her companion.
'Nope." he answered, but then the intercome and everyone within the room stopped and listen.
'We are preparing to land, please buckle your seatbelts and stay seated until further noticed.' the voice mumbled in a clear loud voice.
"Sir I ask you to put away the phone so it won't mess with the connections." a flight attendant.
"Oh sorry." he muttered placing it in his messenger bag. Keia giggled and and placed away her materials into a sports bag.

"We made it through." Oliver chuckled, fixing a crease on his jacket.
"Lucky us." his friend laughed as they walked on the streets looking around, "We finally made it here to Europe, but where excatly?"
"Paris, France." he answered pulling out a map. Keia peeked over his shoulder and he turned to her with one of his rare smiles, one that makes her want to melt, "We'll stop by a cafe. I feel parched."
"You always are." she rolled her eyes fixing her smooth black hair, bunching it together, placing it neatly over one shoulder. The two of them deicded they were going to wander around aimlessly till night falls, so they'll find a hotel to stay for the night and wait for their next mission to come up.

((eh...? lol))

Jetta stared at Miah for a moment longer before reacting to her comment. She slowly stood up straight, folding her arms across her chest. An image of her latest mark flashed before her eyes.

“Business…” she scoffed, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “I suppose you could say that.” A loud banging on the bar drew Jetta’s attention away from Miah and towards one of her regularly rude customers. Her smile dropped immediately as she gathered his demanded drink and slid it across the length of the bar. He waved his hand towards her in what she assumed to be thanks. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning back to Miah.

“I’ll admit…it is much, much more enjoyable than this side-job…” Jetta closed her eyes and let out a sigh, releasing the hilt of her dagger. She opened her eyes and focused on Miah again. “And you?”

Voltaire emptied the money from his tophat into his wallet and then gracefully flipped the hat into the air, made a bow, and then as he straigthened hismelf, the hat landed perfectly on his head as he put away his violin , which bore a small Alpha symbol inscribed in gold. Blain walked over and took twenty dollars from Voltaire's tips. "Hey!", Voltaire protested. Blain laughed a bit. "C'mon. I need some money. I haven't had much business lately.", he said. "Fine. But not again for a while, ok?", Voltaire said. Blain nodded. They together walked down the street towards a cafe for a bite to eat.

Keia opened the glass door into the small cafe shop as people sat around in the circled shape tan tables and booths. She turned to see Oliver follow in as he tucked away the map and he pulled out a twenty, "I'll order for us, just find a table." He murmur walking over to the cashier. Keia nodded her head quietly and glanced around the place before fiding one tucked away into a corner. She walked over, sitting down on one of the chairs and she plopped her bag down on the ground pulling out her phone, messing around as she waited for Oliver to come with their small snack.

Voltaire and Blain entered the cafe. The man behind the counter smiled and waved. "Hey, guys! How are ya today?", he asked. 'Doing quite fine, Stephan. Still liking the job?", Blain asked. "Loving it!", Stephan responded. "Hey, you're welcome.", Voltaire said, smiling. "I know, man, without you, I wouldn't be working here!", Stephan responded. Voltaire walked over to get some snacks while Blain sat at a table near Keia.

She turned her head slightly and shifted in the seat before tensing up. Keia wanted to leap up and dash out but once Oliver set her Frappuccino down along with a small slice of a lemon bar. She glanced up to see him sit down and she smiled, "Thanks."
"No problem." He smiled back munching down on his blueberry muffin and taking a swig of his hot coffee. Keia broke off a piece and began to eat too and forget about everything, just her, Oliver, and the pleasent little lemon bar. She didn't notice her onyx black bracelet slid out a bit from underneath her longsleeve as she moved her hand downwards to break off another piece of the bar to nibble on.

Miah took a slow slip out of her drink, swallowing the concostion quickly before thinking about the taste. She glanced over her shoulder as more people started piling into the cafe. She had to be careful now. She had already overheard the news from one of the t.v.'s that investigators were working on her case.

That made Miah smirk, and she quickly let her hair down, covering the barely visible black aplha symbol on her neck. She didn't trust the people in the cafe, though she knew she didn't have to worry so much. She could handle anyone that tried her. Looking back at Jetta, Miah smirked.
"I finally got what I was after," she commented, taking another swig from the drink Jetta had made her.
"Which is a relief." she murmured into her glass.