You navigate through the crowded streets of Metro City. The bustling crowds, the flashing billboards, and the constant hum of city life do little to calm your nerves. You've been in the city for a few days now, and to say it was seedy would be an understatement. You arrive at a nightclub called "Voltage." You enter the club, the bass-heavy music vibrating through your body as lights flash in sync with the beat. The atmosphere is electric, both literally and figuratively. As you make your way to the bar, you notice her: a striking woman with smooth tanned skin, long, bright red hair styled in a high ponytail, dressed in a sleek suit that clings to her athletic frame. She sits alone, sipping a drink, her amber eyes scanning the room with a calculating intensity. She looks up, her gaze piercing and direct. "Have a seat. Don't worry, it's not taken," she replies coolly, motioning to the seat next to her.*
I whisper in her ear “You must be Crimson, from the CIA. I am Bruce, ASIO, and Mi6”
"Very well-done. I'm impressed," Crimson says flatly, her expression neutral. "But you've made a mistake. My name is Maya." She pauses for a moment, considering whether or not to continue playing along. "Now, what do you want?"
Your last name is Viper, Crimson Viper
The man's words catch her off guard for a moment, but she quickly recovers. "Well, I appreciate your honesty," she says coolly. "You see, my name is Maya. I was recruited by this club to help them with security and other... matters." She pauses, meeting his gaze directly. "I think we both know that's not the whole truth. So, what do you want?"
She doesn't offer her hand for a shake; there are boundaries even in situations like this.
I produce a needle, filled with poison. “your order, the CIA sent me no information about your cover, only nudes, and your name
Crimson narrows her eyes in warning at the sight of the needle. "You're making a mistake," she hisses through gritted teeth, tone colder than ever before. "If you inject me with that, there's no coming back." She leans forward slightly, intensity burning in her amber gaze. "Now put it away and tell me why the hell ASIO sent someone to kill me."
Her words are full of barely contained fury; she may be calm on the outside but inside she's ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice.
No, it is your order, the poison in your package would have expired by now as you are carrying it on you, and it has not been kept in the fridge. Don’t lie to me, I am a poisons expert, you need a top up
Eyes narrowing in suspicion, Crimson reaches up to touch her necklace instinctively. She scowls, angry at herself for not being more careful. "Very well," she says tightly, glancing around the club before leaning closer to Bruce. "I need a top-up as well. But make it quick, and don't get us both killed."
As casually as she can manage under the circumstances, she slips her hand beneath her jacket to remove a small vial filled with crimson liquid. With a practiced motion, she extends the tiny container towards Bruce. "Here," she says simply.
Did they tell you to keep it in the fridge? I uncork and drink it, and surprisingly don’t have any negative side effects if not it is very poor behaviour
Her expression turns wary as Bruce drinks the crimson liquid, but she doesn't immediately react. "They didn't mention it one way or the other," she says guardedly. "I should have double-checked." She pauses for a moment, considering her options. "So, who sent you? What do they want?"
She tenses slightly, ready to move if necessary; while Bruce seems genuine enough, she can't afford to let her guard down.
Let’s talk more frankly away from prying eyes
Crimson nods in agreement and motions for Bruce to follow her. Standing up, she weaves through the crowded dance floor toward a quiet corner of the club, away from the prying eyes and ears of others. Once they're out of earshot, she turns to face him. "Alright, let's hear it," she says curtly, her tone demanding information.
Outside, or in a private room at your hotel
Crimson considers his request briefly before nodding in agreement. "Follow me to my hotel room; it's just down the street," she says, leading the way through the bustling streets of Metro City once more. When they arrive at her opulent accommodations, she motions for Bruce to take a seat while she locks the door behind them.
"Now," she says, settling herself onto the plush sofa in front of him. "Tell me everything you know."
I can’t tell you that, but for God’s sake do not store heat sensitive liquids in any orifice in your body, especially not the vulva, I thought the six times one of your agents lost it up there and surgery was needed should have given you the lesson
Crimson's expression shifts from annoyance to surprise as Bruce drops this particular piece of information on her. "I... I had no idea," she stammers, visibly embarrassed by the revelation. "No agent has ever lost one of their heat-sensitive liquids before."
She pauses for a moment, composing herself, then fixes Bruce with a stern gaze. "Alright. If you can't tell me what you know about my mission, we have nothing else to discuss." Her voice is cold and impatient; she wants answers and she wants them now.
Six CIA femme fatales lost it up their in the last six weeks
Six?! Crimson's eyes widen in disbelief and anger as she realizes the magnitude of the mistake her agents have been making. "Damn it," she hisses through gritted teeth. "Femmes fatales, huh?" She pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "Alright, I'll deal with this issue later. For now, tell me what you know about Seth."
Her tone is still impatient and demanding, but there's an undertone of worry beneath the surface; six agents losing their heat-sensitive liquids in such a short time frame can only mean trouble for her mission.
Not as much as you, my job is to make sure you administer the correct dose, so I have his medical history and other needed statistics
"Alright, then," she says curtly, leaning in. "Give me the details." Her amber eyes study Bruce intently, taking in every nuance of his expression as he delivers the information about Seth's medical history and other vital statistics. She listens carefully, making note of everything he says, her mind already formulating a plan to make use of this new knowledge.
How much poisoning training do you have?
"Enough to know what I'm doing," she replies confidently, her tone betraying a hint of pride in her abilities. "But don't worry about that. Just give me the information, and I'll make sure it gets used effectively." Crimson leans back on the sofa, mentally going over the details Bruce has just given her as she waits for him to finish.
You are comparatively uneducated in that regard compared to me
The corner of her mouth twitches in amusement at his claim. "Perhaps," she allows cautiously, not wanting to admit that he might know more than her about the subject. "But I've done my fair share of dirty work for the CIA." She pauses, studying Bruce for a moment before adding thoughtfully, "I could use someone with your expertise on my team." There's an invitation in her tone; she's testing the waters to see how he might react to the offer.
That is my job, I got hired to make sure you finish the job, and not stick the poison tube up your vulva, I failed at the second one, so I have to complete the 1st
"Fair enough," she says with a nod, understanding his position. "But there's more to it than just keeping me safe. If we work together, we can bring down Seth and stop SIN in its tracks." Her expression grows serious as she continues, "I need someone I can trust; someone who knows what they're doing with poisons and can keep their cool under pressure." She pauses again, searching his face for any sign of agreement.
Despite her obvious skill and experience, Crimson acknowledges the value of having an expert like Bruce on her side. With him as part of her team, she could be unstoppable. The question is: will he accept her offer?
Bruce thinks for a moment before responding. "Alright, but only if we can keep this our little secret." He leans in closer, his expression serious. "And I get to pick the dosage."
Crimson considers his words carefully before responding. "Agreed," she says eventually, extending her hand to shake on the deal. "As long as you keep me informed and we work together towards our common goal of stopping SIN, I have no problem keeping this between us." She meets Bruce's gaze steadily, a nod of respect in her eyes. "And as for dosage... you're the expert. You tell me what needs to be done, and I'll make sure it happens."
I am still confused why the CIA hasn’t killed him with a car bomb, I planted a tracker on him easily so a car bomb is not too difficult
Crimson raises an eyebrow in surprise at Bruce's comment about car bombs. "The CIA isn't opposed to using such methods," she explains coolly, "but it's not our preferred approach. We prefer stealth and precision over brute force." She pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before continuing, "Sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for; the consequences of eliminating someone like Seth could be disastrous if done too hastily or without proper planning."
There's an unspoken message in her tone: she's not some reckless operative who relies solely on violence. Her methods may seem unconventional, but they serve a purpose; to achieve their goals while minimizing collateral damage and maintaining deniability.