Summary:A violent encounter leads to a strange new friendship between Melody and Venom. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
The man made a mistake pushing that guy in the stairs. He was a thug, the kind who got hired out to local criminals, having just come from a meeting with Melody and feeling himself a little bit. Feeling like a big fish in a little pond, even though he was neither. So when the dishevelled man in the hotel hallway walks too close, he bumps shoulders and grunts, "Watch where you're going, bitch."
Thirty seconds later he's pinned to the ceiling, living darkness pouring into his mouth and peeling back his eyes as the fanged visage of Venom consumes most of his eyeline, the massive creature holding him by the throat as the symbiote ravages his face.
"We think you can see us just fine now, can't you?" it hisses.
The meetings were done for now. The man who just left the hotel room was set to beat feet around Harlem to shake a few things loose. She needed to see what the players were, -who- they were, and once again, an emphasis on the -what-. "That was something left to be desired." She says to her right hand man. Her leg crossed over the other, her black dress slightly rising towards the hip, her bare foot now dangling as her 'second' slips off to the adjoining room of their penthouse suite. Her phone was held for a moment as a text was fired off, and soon she stands from her chair to approach the door. There was a stop to look at herself in the mirror, tugging the dress down, fixing the bangle upon her wrist, flipping her hair behind her shoulders, and a bucket grab and she was off.
Down the hallway, barefoot, fixing the plastic bag onto the bin so that she could get ice for the wine she's brought with her…
What most people fail to hear when dealing with a creature as such, is movement. All movement has a sound if you listen to it. It almost sounded hollow. The blackest of black, liquid, thick and coarsing. Dripping but not. At least, in a later recount Melody would describe it as such. But she moves with caution, turning into that line of hallway where man and monster met, her lips pressed hard, brow raised, heartrate -extremely- elevated. She was scared, but could play it off. Seeing something like this, gets the blood moving.
So she clears her throat.
"Scew me." She says, holding up the bucket. "What y'all doing?"
Smooth. Smooth.
Venom's head twists on its neck, if it can be called that, slobbering jaws not very far away at all from the classy dame, serpentine tongue flicking over those needled teeth before the voice emerges, harsh and rasping.
"This one is a rude thing. We were considering ripping off its face and gobbling down its eyeballs. But we're undecided. Part of us thinks that might be an overreaction? What do you think, girl? To snack…or not to snack?"
Bucket tucked under her arm, she was unnerved. But she was determined. Maybe there was a part of her that wanted to see this thing in action, to see him rend flesh. Maybe, she would finally be able to see what that -bad- part of her looked like. The one born from desperation where her nanites tear flesh from bone. "Don't snack." She says with confidence. "Perhaps we can reach an understanding. See. I just hired this young man to do a job for me, and I'm really not keen on finding another who can put feet to the streets, for less. Know what I mean?" She takes a step back, then gestures to her room. "Was getting ice for a night cap. Let's let cooler heads prevail for now over drinks. I can order room service, I hear a nice tenderloin is on the late night menu.."
Venom considers for a moment, looking back and forth between her and the thug. The thug in question can't speak, his tongue strangled with tendrils of symbiote, but he whimpers very well. And he's pissed his pants, which is certainly an expressive gesture in and of itself.
Finally, the monster tosses the man down the hallway, bouncing him off his shoulder and leaving him crumpled in a heap. "We can understand how he might be cheap. We do like tenderloin. Fresh meat is always on the menu as far as we're concerned," they say. "We do not know you. But we are curious. We are Venom. Pleased to meet you."
Silence. Was it thinking?
Oh, it clearly was. The decision was made as the thug was tossed down the hallway, the smell thick with piss and probably a bit of poop, and a little bit of vomit to boot. Now, she was starting to rethink the hire. But that particular one would be dealt with in due time.
She wasn't going to kill him, but she was going to retire him.
A finger raises as she steps around the large monster carefully, her bare toe -nearly- bumping into his, approaching the ice machine to fill the bucket to the top, tucked under her arm again, and she's gone. She always feels better when she's doing business, adrenaline was for the birds. And it was hitting her hard enough that she was showing her hands; she was starting to glow. Standing at her door, she pulls it open and steps inside quickly. "Door." It was a clear instruction to close it.
The creature follows easily enough, its entire body sheathed in almost liquid black, shiny and undulating just a bit, as if a finger would sink beneath the surface at the touch. And it would. It seems utterly out of place, inhuman and alien, but it moves casually and without a bit of self-consciousness.
It considers defying the instruction just to be contrary, but then just shuts the door and looks around the place, the suite swanky enough to be nice but not so huge as to waste a lot of money. Still, it had a hot tub.
"We still don't know who you are. Why did you hire that man? What are you doing? You don't look like the Kingpin," they smile. "But, then, appearances can be deceiving, we know."
"Thank you." She states. She wanted to tell the creature that she rented the room for an indefinite amount of time under an alias, but that was information not needed for now.
But it -was- swanky! Decorated mostly white with black trim, few crystals here and there, hot tub off to the side but the bathroom has it's own fixings. Adjoining door to the other suite, and a kitchen to prepare meals. She approaches the phone, but doesn't pick it up just yet.
"Melody." She states. "Melody Kenway. It's great to meet you too, Venom." She doesn't tell him to take a seat, but she does snatch the phone up to order six fresh tenderloins, seasonings and ties to prepare her own. She's going to rightfully assume he'd take his raw.
Once the conversation ended, she hangs up the phone. "I hired him to put eyes on Harlem. I'm interested in a bit of real estate. But before I invest my time and money to avoid gentrification of my peoples neighborhood, I want to see who the moves and shakers are. And.. if there are any people like yourself.. and unlike yourself.. lingering in the shadows that try to stop me."
Clear, cut.. and precise.
But she thinks about this for a moment, eyes tilted toward the ceiling. "I think I'm much prettier than Kingpin."
Venom chuckles, "We haven't seen the Kingpin in the flesh, but we would probably be agree. We have heard that he is a formidable figure, but pretty? No."
The darkness recedes a bit, peeling away, the jaws retracting and vanishing to reveal the human face of the man beneath the symbiote, although his eyes remain shadowed, his stubbled visage surprisingly handsome in its own right.
"We covered gentrification programs when part of us was a reporter," he says, his voice still carrying a hint of Venom, showing that both are still present even if the face has changed. "They usually abuse the locals and drive out minorities to build family condos and raise rent. Predators in their own right. We like hunting predators. It's more fun."
"He's a big ass dude, lets just out with it." His veins probably run deep with cholestorol.
But as the change happens, still.. Melody was unnerved. There was a silent regret of inviting the man and monster to her room, but she was sure she could get away.. but probably lose a limb int he process.
"You were a reporter?" She asks, interested. Hearing what he did cover was a good enough guess of his skills, especially his knowledge of gentrification and its impact. "Exactly." She points a finger at him, and begins to move towards the bar. Yes, the room had a bar. Stocked with Black Label. "Drink?" She asks, before she goes on.
"You can say that I'm a predator in my own right. I do operate in the grey area, mostly in the interest of selfishness. Though I try to balance by paying it forward. My dream.. at the end of the day? Build affordable homes. Already, most minorities, people of color, and blue collar workers like yourself cannot afford to live in New York and all of his burroughs because they do not make a living wage. I have enough money, I can take a red-line to at least see that everyone has a roof over their heads, and enough money to pay the bills an afford a steak or two without relying on government assistance."
Venom cocks its head, "There is no one like us," they say with a smile and she can see those teeth in his human mouth are still sharp. "But we understand what you're saying. What you do is illegal, but not immoral. In the shadows, in the margins. We live there, too. We prey on those who hurt others for pleasure and profit. The muggers and the rapists and the killers. The scum that needs to be peeled off. We like the taste of scum. It's salty and rich and full of fat," Venom says.
"We'll take a scotch, if you have it."
Blarg! Was Melody like this when dispersed? She doesn't even know the own state of her mind when it happens. So speaking to him is intriguing! And horrifying. But, his human visage was at least calming, the teeth she can handle, and he is a looker..
"Scotch it is." She pours the drink, adding in a few cubes, stopping to look at her hand. The lights beneath her skin slowly dims, which slowly sends her breath exhaling. She herself pours a scotch, no ice for now, turning to offer it to him with an agreeable nod.
"I made my money off of supplying most of the criminal empires across the world. Sometimes the government. I also made my money by selling out those empires who do kill and rape." She gestures. "Mexican cartels are like roaches though. Hard to do away with them without nuking the entire country.." T'was a side-thought, at least. "However, they do provide the finest marijuana. The stuff that high collar workers would slap their daughters over."
Venom smiles, "We enjoy some of that as well. It calms our mood, at least as long as it lasts. we have a…fast metabolism."
Still he sips the whiskey and, slowly, the darkness recedes further until he appears as just a man, clad in a Rage Against The Machine t-shirt, boot-cut jeans and steel-toed to match. "I'm a good exterminator. And we admit, we could probably use a little bit of money. We don't find as much time to write columns on the exploitation of the common man. And that never paid well anyway," he says.
"It doesn't work for me anymore." A tiny little confession, thankfully she wasn't looking at him when she does it. She does watch as he melts away, her cheeks now sparkling with a little bit of shine. She could see the face much better now, the 'mental' picture taken, cross referenced in a few online databases while using minimal data. That way, she could keep the conversation going, all the while checking up upon the man before her.
"I could offer you a job. But we both toe the line in the grey, mines quite possibly a little bit more shaded than yours. Criminal consierge, and all.." She now takes a seat neat her shoes, which were played with by her toes. "Any information and retainer is good information and retainer.."
Venom considers, "Perhaps instead of employment or alliance, we can just be…friends? Occasionally I could take out an enemy or two for you. Sometimes you could point out some particularly juicy piece of cattle for us to harvest," the monster says.
"This could be the start of a beautiful friendship, isn't that the saying?"
Melody considers this, the notion of friends have been foreign to her for at least a few years. And he was a powerhouse clearly, it was good to have..
"Alright.."
She rises from her seat then approaches him, her glass reaching out to clink his even though he didn't offer a toast. "From the mouth of devils. Or was it babes.." Who cares!