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Under The Flickering Lights (Hahvy and I)

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Broomhandle45

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It was around seven thirty in the morning when the two inhabitants on a bed adorned with the finest silk finally stirred to the feeling of sunlight over their bodies. It wasn't a lie, or a dream either..it wasn't some mystical story told by the mid-hivers or even worse, the underhivers.

No..when Roy Harada raised his scarred hand to the sunlight, it was real. Every day, he grinned at that when he rose up to meet the morning with a slightly painful tint to his eyes. He drank just a little too much last night, and he knew father was going to rip into him for it. But he had this lovely blonde haired woman with more tits than sense in his bed, which had required his little extra boost of whiskey to get her out of her dress and on his bed. He was pretty sure her name was...something, something that started with an S, maybe.

Meh, it wasn't important. It was another wonderful day for him to see, minus the hangover. He dressed himself in a fine shirt and pants, and went to see the start of a new day. His family had been very lucky, generations ago..they laid the very foundations of the hive itself, and for that they had secured themselves on the Spire. The only place on the Hive that replicated the world before it went to it's twisted ways.

The Harada family was the only family that really knew the ins and outs of the Hive, and repairing it was no small task to say the least. Roy had spent much of his life learning how to fix the various parts of the hive, and the other half spent on how to protect himself from it. His body was hardened from work and combat in equal measure, there was always the occasional thief or gang who thought it was smart to to attack a noble house. Roy's job was partly to prevent that from happening, a job that he enjoyed quite a bit as a matter of fact.

He stepped outside with a soft yawn, feeling the cool air nip his face as he began to take a walk to shake the hangover off before his father invariably found out and chewed him out for drinking when he knew he had to work today. The old man could use some lightening up, but Roy supposed that there wasn't much to be done about it. He knew his job would soon be what his father was doing, but Dad wasn't that old yet-...

For a moment, Roy thought he saw something entirely..unfamiliar to him as he passed a nearby pond, a second glance confirmed his suspicion as he stopped to look at her. He tilted his head a moment with a scrutinizing frown. He had never seen the woman before, more importantly..he had not ever seen someone so..dirty and unclean before, her clothes looked patchwork and the closer Roy got, the sooner he realized that she did not belong up here in the slightest.

He frowned deeper at that, moving closer with as casual of an expression as possible.

"..Excuse me, miss." He started. "..I don't believe you belong up here." As a matter of fact, she looked kind of like..underhive trash. She had the stink of it at least, ugh..how in the hell did she get up here?
 
Attia Sapphique was one of those types that was from Underhive. Underhive, the most hellish place in existence as some fondly called it. And it seemed mild in comparison to what it truly was- It was Hell. Hell like all the old books described. It might as well have been built around a post-apocalyptic idea and left to rot for a few more centuries - just to loosen it up. Some books described jungles as the type of place where survival was utterly important and that life or death was a daily occurrence. In Underhive, it was more of an hourly thing. There were regulations and whatnot against Culling - or killing- but it wasn't like it was up here in the Spire. The Spire- the most beloved and absolutely hated place in the Hive. While Underhive was full of criminal scum, the Spire was filled with noble scum. Only Middlehive was the place for people to actually live without so many chains. And even then, there were issues. No one lived in the Hive without paying some kind of price - even the fancy shmancy nobles.

Now, Attia would never claim to be some special little snowflake in Underhive but she had something that most down there didn't- a way to escape. Attia wasn't normal, though most of Underhive went crazy after a time as well and some did whatever they could to keep their humanity. Some didn't even bother. However, her insanity stemmed from a culling gone wrong. Her mother had suffered and died and Attia would have been just another victim if her father and a member from an ally faction hadn't killed the Gutless. Gutless, a term used to describe those who simply wanted the free meal ticket and culled without mercy or discrimination- though women were usually a primary target. It's not that women were weak by any means compared to the men of Underhive- it was that they had plenty of holes to fill to slate the lust that built up in a bloody-thirsty world. Rape was like breathing. Death was like breathing. Everything supposedly "wrong" in the world was normal in Underhive. If you were born in Underhive, you died in Underhive. And no deity could save you if you were sent to Underhive.

Because of the incident that occurred roughly six years ago, Attia had managed to gain a reputation. Attia was the name she used with friends as it was her actual name. But with others, she was Jack Houdini. Everyone still knew about the psychotic killer Jack the Ripper as well as the famous magician Houdini. She had argued with people she should be Jeffery, but he hadn't had as many knives as she carried. So the name stuck. Yet how had she gotten Houdini for a name? As she moved her feet slowly in the pond water, staring up at the beautiful sun, it wasn't hard to figure out why when someone spoke to her. She was in the Spire. Now, she didn't move as if startled or spooked, that would mean you were off-guard and Attia was never off-guard. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and looked at the person in question, eyes bright and wide with faked innocence.

"I don't? I wish someone had told me. My word, I would have stayed put if I had known that." She moved to a standing position with a fluidity even those in Underhive didn't possess. It was probably because some of her screws were loose and she liked to put on a show. Plus, it kept her from getting Culled and caught. Loose-limbed movements made it a lot harder for a knife to gut you or a bullet to hit you. Smiling at the man, she was much cleaner than most in Underhive as well, though the look on his face said she still stank. Sniffing her arm, she shrugged before settling down to pull on her knee-high boots. They had armor plating around them to protect her joints and soft flesh. Then again, she looked like she had walked out of one of those movies...what had they been called? Steampunk? She couldn't quite recall. She had read about them though. Adjusting the goggles on her head, she finished lacing up her boots before standing up again, blades catching the light as she did.

"I don't think you really belong up here either but we could argue semantics later."
 
Roy tensed almost instantly when she moved, already feeling his skin crawl in a way that wasn't particularly familiar with, the tone of her voice was equally grating in an entirely different way that made his fingers tighten on reflex. He knew underhivers had a..particular air about them, but hers was something different. Something that made his skin crawl deep into his bones and never want to leave. Besides that? He never trusted the word of anyone outside of his family, it was just safer and much easier that way.

"..What do you mean, I don't belong here?" He growled in annoyance. "My family built this hive! We deserve to be up here, more than any other noble! You're the one who belongs down below, you underhive garbage!" She was a smug little bitch, wasn't she? She thought she could just swagger in here like she owned it? Roy wasn't going to have any bit of that at all. "I think you should leave, trash..before I make you leave."
 
"If you did belong, why are you so defensive? You didn't earn anything. You were simply born to privilege. It was a matter of genetics, time, conception, and development. A happenstance in the past that could have been different. Why...this whole thing could have been reversed if history had occurred differently. That's funny, right?" She smiled wide at him, knowing he was annoyed. She personally found it cute the way his face made that odd expression. But deep down, she also knew that he felt vulnerable. Underhive "trash" as he called her had made it up to the Spire. Which never happened. Midhivers tended to go up here for settlements, but Underhivers only got up here in body bags. If they made it up at all.

"What makes you think, little noble boy, that you could make me leave? I think you're shaking to call the Enforcers because you can't protect yourself from someone like me. That must be odd, to be afraid. I don't know what fear is. Can you describe it for me?" She asked, genuine curiosity filling her voice as she tilted her head, lacing her hands behind her back. Her smile never faltered, especially when she decided to walk a little closer to him. From her view, he had no weapons that were within his immediate reach so she had the clear advantage. He had his Enforcer bracelet, but that would still take roughly 3.267 minutes for them to get to their location. Which, if she decided to kill him, would mean that was plenty of time for her to leave before his body even hit the ground.

"Everyone calls me Jack. Who might you be, little noble boy?"
 
Afraid?

After a small swallow, he realized the fear was hardly because of her in the..literal sense, he supposed. What she was projecting was far more dangerous, the tone of her voice..the way of her movements. It hid nothing when you were familiar with fighting, and what posture meant. She certainly wasn't lying with the fact that she seemingly had no fear, she was utterly out of her mind and getting an eyeful of that smile on a face that was cleaner than expected wasn't entirely a bad thing..but he had been lulled into that sort of security before and he wouldn't fall into it again.

"..Roy," He muttered, eyes narrowing. "I suggest you step away, girl. I don't want to have to hurt you." Her mouth alone was enough for him to gnash his teeth, he didn't need the help of the Enforcers. He was his own man and he always would be.
 
"Hurt me? Depends on your definition. Would I like it?" She grinned this time, clearly enjoying their conversation while he seemed to be on his last nerve. She found it endearing in that messed up way. Roy. Roy was an easy name to remember. At least the noble who had named him had went with something simple rather than complicated like some of the rulers of the ancient world had went with. Like Charlemagne. Fancy and cute, but too complex for her liking. Humming a small tune that her mother had taught her, Attia moved closer, almost gliding over to him. It was like her feet rarely stayed on the ground.

"I don't care if I live or die. Can you say the same?" She tipped her head again, looking at his face. He had a lot of scars from his training but Attia had her own scars. They just weren't on her face. Fingering one of the watches on her left arm, she figured she could linger here another five minutes before another of the nobles decided to come outside. Usually, they slept in because they had that privilege, but some of the people who actually got off their asses and did something were out around eight a.m. Stretching out her lithe form, she shrugged her shoulders and put her hands on her hips.

"I was just enjoying the sun, ya know. Is it really so deadly to enjoy something beautiful?"
 
"..Like it?!" Roy growled in annoyance. "Listen, you stupid girl..you don't belong here, do you understand? You belong in the underhive, where your stink and your..personality best suit it. This is a place far too good for the likes of you, now shove off before I make you." What was this girl even talking about? All of his warnings simply seemed to brush her off, and as much as he didn't want to force his hand, it was looking like his choices on getting this rat back to her warren were running short with his patience.

"You don't deserve the sun, so I think it's time for you to go," He ordered, reaching out to grab her shoulder.
 
As soon as he finished speaking and went to grab her, she allowed him to grab her shoulder, but her other hand that he hadn't been focusing on had grabbed hold of one of her Beretta blades and held the small barrel under his chin. She smiled at him, eyes completely free of any kind of emotion. They resembled crystalline mirrors for all the soul she seemed to possess in that instance. Even her smile, which had seemed warm and inviting before was more like a streak of pale pink on her porcelain face for all the expression it had.

"You assume so much as if I asked for the lot I was given. As if I did some unthinkable crime to earn that Hell-Hole I call home. It's the equivalent as you saying you deserve all you got when you did nothing to attain it. You, personally, did nothing. You're far more worthless than I will ever be, Roy Harada of the House of Foundation. You may hate me but I do not hate you. Hate would require caring and your existence means absolutely nothing to me. You might as well be...dust. Dust, ash, soot. Meaningless particles that reflects the sun you adore. We all get recycled, Roy. It's just a matter of when."

Her expression never changed, even when she was done talking until she leaned up to blow a breath against his ear, smirking like the crazed woman she was. Funny, was he shaking? Was he angry, afraid, indignant? Probably all of them. She wanted to know all of his emotions. She usually never did, but something about Roy intrigued her. And yes, all she had to do was know his first name to know who he was. There were lists of all the nobles everywhere so that people knew who was "above them all." It was rather arrogant really. It just made it easier to figure out who needed to be killed. And right now, Attia had the upper hand.

"Tell little Jack what you're feeling. I wonder if I'll be able to taste it on your skin.."
 
He wasn't expecting any kind of speed from her, or let alone any sort of response against his movement. In one smooth motion he suddenly had a pistol against his chin, and he felt the narrow blade against his throat as he dared not swallow. Was he afraid? Certainly, a man was an idiot to not be afraid of a gun against him..but her rambling was not without a purpose, recycled this, he didn't belong here that. Did she have some manner of grudge?

Well, his..straightforward approach was hardly working, and he had to resist the urge to shudder his disgust at her husky tone in his ear, like a siren song you heard claw at the back of your mind and never wanted to hear again, all too simple to become drawn to it's tone.

"...Who are you?" He finally muttered.
 
"Jack. Jack Houdini, the Chaos Maker of Underhive. Have you heard of me?" She almost sounded giddy at the thought of being known even way up here in the Spire. She knew her name had gotten around Underhive and to some of the Midhivers, but that would truly be a feat! She wondered if that might be arrogant to think like that or just prideful. But couldn't the two be interchangeable? Or was that more like white and ivory? Well, there wasn't much difference there...

"It's funny, to be honest. I earned my name. Did you?" She asked, her smirk giving her a cat-like appearance. Maybe he would figure out he was being toyed with. Maybe not. He didn't look very smart, after all. No wonder he hadn't understood her scientific ramblings! For shame. He should read more.
 
He narrowed his eyes in annoyance, he wouldn't tell her regardless..but Roy certainly sure as hell never heard her at all, but that snide expression just made him grit his teeth and throw caution to the wind as he shifted his footing and grabbed her wrist, tugging the gun under his right armpit with a soft glare. Damn, that blade was razor sharp..he could feel blood trickle down his throat just a little, guess he got a little too reckless.

"I suppose I should show you who I am, then." He growled. "Let's dance, bitch."
 
"Bitch? I haven't even been mean once! I haven't even called you names." She pouted at him, feeling her wrist trapped by his arm. But she could see the blood dripping down his neck in small little rivulets from the sharpness of her blade. One had to be careful in Underhive. She sharpened and cleaned all of her weapons every day. Not everyone could afford new weapons. Yet since he had insisted that they should dance...she moved her free hand to drag her fingertips teasingly over the front of his trousers before she used her body to press hard into him so he could feel every feminine curve and contour of her figure. Her lips were at his ear once more as she spoke in a soft seductive whisper.

"My, my...aren't you a big boy. If you wanted to play, you could have just asked.."
 
Roy was...not expecting that at all, what in the hell was WITH this girl? He shifted almost uncomfortably away from her hand which unfortunately, loosened his grip on her arm. "...You're out of your damn mind." He muttered. Who did that in the middle of a fight!? Her voice was hypnotic, and in that terrible way of thinking. It was like a black widow lulling her food to it's doom and he wasn't going to fall for it.

...He was pretty sure, positive that he wasn't going to fall for it. God dammit, he was Roy Harada! He didn't get charmed by women, HE charmed women! They were blessed to share the same bed, and now this underhive garbage was treating him like he was some play thing!
 
"Yes, well, when you're born into a place where there is no hope, no light, no mercy, you lose what little sanity you were blessed with no matter how hard you try to hold onto it." Her hand stayed hovering above his groin, an immense tease in and of itself, which she knew from the way his pupils kept dilating. He wasn't used to this; he was used to being in control. Well, she was going to pull that tablecloth from underneath his platter! She decided to test how on edge he was by rimming his ear with the very tip of her tongue. It was a soft, delicate, wet little swipe of her tongue that was designed to pull any kind of reaction out of him. She was hoping for something satisfying. Well, at least to her.

"I wonder, Roy, if your supposed pure bred genetics can keep you from getting aroused by a woman you are meant to hate and despise like a forbidden treat that's bad for your health and yet...maybe you'll crave it once you give in. Who knows? I'm not a mind-reader."
 
The first thing Roy did was jerk away with a grunt, rubbing his sleeve on his ear. He didn't like that feeling that burned into hos chest as he groused his annoyance with an adjustment of his shirt. "Stop that!" He muttered. "Do you not have any sense of shame!? I am not some stick of candy for you to lick!" Please, he was Roy Hamada..he didn't fall for white trash, even if she had more intelligence that most of the sycophant women, after all..the real important people that weren't Roy were out actually doing work..the women worth the trouble.

And this woman wasn't worth the headache she was causing! Why was she acting like this?
 
When he jerked away, he didn't seem to realize he had loosened his hold on her armed hand, which allowed her to pull it back and away from his reach. This was actually...fun! She couldn't help but laugh and it was a sweet and innocent sound as if she had never been tainted by Underhive. Watching his face and gestures, she couldn't help but smile at him. It was just very highly amusing. He seemed to want to be refined rather than actually be refined.

"Shame? Why would I have any of that? And you might as well be, you sure are sweet..." She licked her lips, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She moved closer to him again, sliding a hand along his waistline, touching his muscles and the bumps and dips left by scars. She could have fun exploring that figure. If he ever let her, which he seemed disinclined to do. She didn't really understand it. It wasn't like she was ugly.
 
"Stop touching me," He growled, gripping her wrists. "I mean it," Disregarding every thing about her, and the fact that he had warned her no less than five or six times already. He was serious this time, what was her problem? What was HIS problem? He had every right to send her on her way in the most violent way possible, and instead she was playing this cat and mouse game with him and he was failing..miserably.

Her fingers were deft and smooth, reminded Roy of a pianist..or his Master who used to slam him into the dirt with a single palm strike to his gut, that association did not make him any more comfortable around the girl..but it did make him stupidly curious.

Curiosity killed you, literally.
 
"I can't stop touching you if you put your hands on me, Silly Boy Roy," she said. She smiled at him still, pressing her hips into him instead since he had her wrists now. She moved only her lower body, like one of those old world belly dancers lost to history. She couldn't help that he made her a bit...crazy. The irony made her want to laugh, but she managed to hold it in. He was staring at her, worry lines showing up on his handsome face. She wondered what exactly he was so worried about. It wasn't like he would ever catch her again. Not unless she wanted him to. The clock on her arm caught her attention and she realized that play time was over. She let out a soft sigh and looked at him with soft innocence and something that almost resembled regret."

"If you mean it, you'll let go and I'll be on my way. Plus, you don't want to be seen in such a compromising position. I know I wouldn't be caught dead in one." She smiled then, all previous emotions wiped out.

"Get it? Dead? I crack me up sometimes."
 
"..." Roy had found the woman crazy beforehand, but now he was pretty much sure she was out of her mind. Part of him found that terrifying, but the other part of him wondered why she seemed so..interested in him, or was he just thinking too deeply about it? Regardless, he was caught even further off-guard when he was pressed against her, and he grunted in annoyance. He knew that feeling, the one his father always told him to ignore deep in his gut, like a burning fire that was going to consume everything and burn him in the process.

Wanderlust? Or maybe just seeing the unknown element in a different light? He was a Noble, he had no place in the affairs of the poor, he had his own purpose to fill.

"Excuse me, Mr. Harada." He heard before he actually stopped staring at her face, glancing up to see four enforcers, one of them raising up his shotgun. "We'll handle this, sir."

He quite honestly wasn't sure what the fuck he just did, but he felt his hands relax away from her grip.

Bah..just..some crazy girl, that's all it was.
 
She knew from the sounds of the voice that they couldn't see her face just yet. She heard the light clink of a gun being aimed at her and she tipped her head the slightest, her goggles sliding onto her face and making her look like one of the old dirigible pilots. It was bad enough a noble had seen her face, but if the Enforcers saw it, she'd be doomed. They would track her down for her offense and she couldn't have her father getting mixed up in her sloppy mess. The world went black for a minute as the goggles secured over her eyes before the light was back. They wouldn't be able to see her eyes, but she could see them. It had taken her years to perfect her goggles because parts, time, and technology was so scarce in Underhive. It had taken several prototypes and help from an ally to finally get it all right. So she could see when no one could among other little nifty things. The goggles still had some glitches, but it did what it needed to do. She always carried a little bag of tricks, but those were always for emergencies. Everything was scarce in Underhive unless you were a Gutless or inventive.

Relaxing her shoulders, her arms dropped to her side. She was still holding her Beretta blade and Roy had cuts on him but wasn't seriously injured. Did she want to use him as a meat shield? A hostage? A distraction maybe? Which would be easier and which would allow for less punishment? She knew that Enforcers sometimes had shaky fingers and if they thought their precious noble was in danger, they wouldn't dare shoot him- especially with the weapons they were packing. Enforcers didn't know the meaning of "travel light." Giving Roy a brief smile that was tainted by mischief, she spoke softly so only he could hear.

"Do forgive me." It was then that she spun around, keeping one foot planted beside his own, gun blade raised to shoot at the Enforcer holding the shotgun. She didn't pause in her movement as she used her planted foot in an attempt to throw Roy off-balance while planting her hands on his back with a nice hard shove. With his guard down, he'd at least wobble a bit and that was really all she needed. He made a darling little distraction- even if it was brief. She didn't bother to see if her decoy had worked as well as she hoped as she snickered, running as fast as she could to dive over a flower bush and vanish into the garden, knowing that none of them knew about the panel underneath that led to the bowels of the Hive.
 
Roy had a very bad feeling about when she put those goggles on, and even more so when she turned around and a gunshot rang out, and suddenly Roy was sent sprawling forward, stopping himself in time..only to get a shotgun stock slam against his face, he went sprawling in a spray of blood as he groaned in surprise. Wait...what..?

"You okay, sir?" One of the Enforcers grunted as they helped the man to his feet as Roy shook his head in pain, rising up shakily as he spit out blood, and he was soon staring at one pissed off enforcer and two wary ones with their shotguns raised. Roy supposed he couldn't blame them too much given the situation, but now everything had cooled down and he was currently nursing a cut lip that he spit out more blood.

"..Did you know that woman?"

"No," He grunted. "I've never seen her before today."

And I had a feeling they didn't believe me, the closer they edged on me with an annoyed frown. "We're going to have to ask you to come with us, sir."

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Roy protested. "She just..came up to me! How is that my fault!?"
 
She heard all the shouting from beneath the panel before she secured it in place so it looked like undisturbed grass once more from above. Sitting in the little cove for a moment, goggles switching to night vision after a few stutters, she let out a small sigh as she held up her Beretta blade. Roy's blood still marked the razor sharp edge and it made her frown. She didn't have her cleaning tools with her at the moment so by the time she made it home the blood would be dry and harder to clean. With a shrug, she tucked the gun blade back into it's holster and soon slid along the rusty and dirty pipes. It was going to be a long journey back and she had the feeling that Roy was in a lot of trouble. It kind of made her laugh to think of a noble being in trouble. It was like thinking that people weren't murdered in Underhive. It just didn't fit.
 
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