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thewhumpstuff · 4 years

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Ezekiel - Gifts [YaIMaY - D2]

[CW: References to: Human trading/trafficking]

[Teaser and Master List]

Introducing - The Bloody Blitz

He had been kind to her. It had taken effort. But he really wanted to give her a chance to see him for more than his usual cravings. He wished she had been more than a conquest. Alas, she was detached and distant, and Eze’s patience was wearing thin. He got her the best things, bestowed upon her the most ornate compliments, and all she had to offer was resignation and haphazard facts about her research. She talked about her work a lot. It was amusing at first, but got dull quickly and Eze’s interest waned. Then she said something in bed one night. “... I suppose it is actually nice that we’re not at war. And I hope we won’t be, but then... Alcyone said, if we were-” Nova truly did hope it would be an if and not when. “-I'd have had no way to perfect the serum…” Alcyone thought something Nova was doing was worthy enough to warrant a conversation? That piqued Ezekiel’s interest again. He coaxed details out of her. How naively she shared the information about her serum. Almost brightly. Ezekiel was potentially sitting on a goldmine. How could he not cash in? So, he took matters into his own hands. And made some arrangements. Today, it was time for him to collect. He looked at his watch to confirm that it was. The blonde hated having to do his own work, but this deal called for special discretion and did promise entertainment. He did not use his Q.B. sanctioned hover car for this. It was the time of the month where he had to settle for an archaic, rented van and today, he had to drive it himself. All this better be worth the trouble.

Ezekiel ambled in his study, on an end-to-end encrypted call with a Contact. The unknown, the unnamed, mysterious people that made things happen, for the right price. “Yes, but I need in, I want my own candidate… candidates preferably…” Ezekiel leaned against his study and tossed an eclectic paperweight in his hand absently. “Do you just want a person, or do you want to participate and win?” The Contacts knew how to read their customers too and they had their own way of collecting intelligence. It was easy to try lure Ezekiel. “Good doesn’t come cheap.” The mechanical genderless and toneless voice on the other end stated. Too bad Ezekiel could not really shuffle the cash to get the kind of funds he would need for a real champion in the Bloody Blitz. “You know I have to work within the budget that can be overlooked and won’t prompt an inquiry.” Ezekiel gripped the ornate paper weight tightly, his knuckles whitening as he reigned in his frustration. He did not like feeling like a dog on Q.B.’s leash. And somehow, despite all the privileges he had garnered, it never felt like enough. He never felt truly liberated. “People always break in the Bloody Blitz… Just pick up the pieces if you need someone to fix Ezekiel. Maybe you will get lucky and get a cheap Fighter that way. There are some good bouts scheduled for the next Blitz, say the word and I’ll get you in, you know they’re always happy to have you.” Eze disconnected on that pleasant note. The reminder that the organizers of the Bloody Blitz eagerly maintained the mutually beneficial relationship with him, was soothing. Out of his fondness for the expedient system, Eze did play his part and helped them keep things off Q.B.’s radar. They owe me, I am sure I’ll get what I want. - He parked the van and checked the shock-implements lay on the black faux leather of the passenger seat. The little inconveniences had already taken their toll on the blonde. He really did not like driving himself. This was not the first time he had accepted an invite to the Bloody Blitz, and it would not be the last. The conceivable venues for the event were changed too often. Enough fake information floated, to make it impossible for anyone who was not invited, to be able to pin down a location. The structures erected for the event were easy to dismantle without trace. It only happened bi-yearly. And their promise of security, so far, was delivered flawlessly. Ezekiel had a hand in maintaining this… Which earned him many privileges. - Ezekiel picked up a flute of a sparkling beverage off a tray, absently. Those in the VIP lounge were afforded certain palatable luxuries. He stood in the enclosed balcony, watching the skirmishes – to death or knock out – rage on, in the pit below. The current battle was a classic speed versus strength showdown. He overheard a snippet of a soft conversation. “I hope Lieder wins…” “Lieder is the strength guy? You don’t own him, do you?” she sounded aghast, because she had deemed him to be the weaker candidate. It was uncommon for the VIPs to memorise the names of the Fighters, unless they owned them. “No no, I’m just friends with his Trainer.” The man replied, slightly offended. He pointed at the guy who stood by the arena below. Ezekiel followed his finger and noticed the man in the black overalls; the word TRAINER visibly plastered on the back in bold white letters. The Trainer was anxiously muttering something into the ear of the man in the sweat and blood-stained orange bodysuit inside the pit – Leider. Leider leaned against the chain-link fence that sealed an area that was the size of four boxing rings. He was exhausted and tried to focus on what his trainer was saying, over the din of the crowd. His eyes trained onto the other guy in orange, his speedy opponent, being similarly attended to by his trainer. “I don’t see it happening.” The woman countered hotly. “Leider has the bets, in greater value and numbers.” Ezekiel scanned the riffraff below him, the kinds that had bid on tickets just to witness this charade and irresponsibly gambled on the outcomes of the brawls and challenges. Being unable to pay a debt is sometimes what forced people to surrender their lives as Fighters or Units. The time-out period was extended. There was a cry about a foul. The people who sat in chairs on bleachers placed on either side of the arena wore red—The Units. Their spokespeople were shouting. “NO! We agreed on the concentration and the units beforehand!” the stout woman in red, sprung off her seat and was making a beeline towards the other side. “But the dose should be duration based, not quantity based, how is our Fighter supposed to outlast yours, if yours works for-” A lankier woman responded, rankled. She too slid out of her chair; her motions were meeker as she slunk to meet the other woman halfway. Upon being interrupted, her smaller posse strode to her side for support. “-That sounds like something that should have been discussed before.” Eze could not hear the words anymore, but saw the mouths move as the women closed in on each other. Arguments that were deemed truly dull affairs were muted within the lounge. He could not hear the jeer of the crowd either but did feel the floor tremble under him as the people below stamped their feet in unison. The pleasing instrumental piece lilted in the balcony instead was interrupted by soft discontent mutters and sighs, the VIPs were more reserved in displaying their displeasure. “That dose-administration issue again!” The woman exclaimed. The man showed no interest in the specifics of the foul. He was too busy hungrily staring at the teams that had followed their leaders and were dangerously close to duking it out outside the pit. Ezekiel too, watched them with mild intrigue. The team on the side of speed was bigger. The Units were either teams of scientists or solo researchers responsible for inventing the products and prototypes. They did so either voluntarily out of academic curiosity, or out of necessity and desperation. Men in navy blue uniforms intervened and the crowd’s reaction was palpable again as the Units were ordered to their knees and then asked to retreat. The man near Ezekiel slapped his knee and laughed, earning some derisive looks from the other VIPs and outright disgusted from the woman beside him. “You’re embarrassing yourself, Julien.” “What…? Give me a break, I love it when the Handlers get to take charge. Too bad none of them defied the Handlers. They should be doing more with the Units, honestly. Fuckers need to work faster.” She cleared her throat and prattled on as the situation was managed and the referee made their final call. “I want Leider to lose because my sister has a twenty-three percent stake in the development of that enhancement. She narrowly misses the top shares though. So, her proposal about making the drug short-acting but more efficient is not being accepted.” “Get her to convince the other stakeholders.” The man snorted, like it was the most obvious thing ever. “I suppose if she manages and it passes, I’ll have to agree, the Handlers better make the Units buck up.” Her eyes glinted with their own hungry streak. Funding the Units granted the VIPs shareholder stakes on cutting-edge technology. Greater the ownership, the more autonomy one could have on how they wanted the research to proceed. The Handlers promised to do their best to make it happen. It prompted a smirk from Ezekiel. Lucky for me, I have my own personal ‘Unit’ in Nova. “We’ll see… I’m really looking forward to the next bout…” the man said, before he picked up an appetizer from the tray and slid the bite off the toothpick with his teeth cleanly. “That is bound to get truly bloody.” The woman agreed, having already forgotten her brief revulsion for the man. Ezekiel looked up at the announcement screen. Next up: ‘Genzo vs Zizi – Prosthetic Prototypes.’ - The fight truly was a spectacle, the woman, won against that Genzo guy, by the skin of her teeth. “Where are they going to take the Fighters?” Ezekiel asked the man in the purple uniform, standing by the gate to the VIP lounge. The guard was chewing a gum noisily and eyed the blonde, he wearily assessed the situation. “I doubt they’ll go to the wards; they’ll be in body bags soon.” “Yes, but where are they taking them now?” “Immediately? Backstage and then probably to the greenrooms for quick assessment, if they survive all that…” “Perfect.” the guard narrowed his eyes as Ezekiel nodded. Something about his manner must have made his intentions obvious. “Sir… Guests are not allowed backstage, so you can’t go there…” Ezekiel just patted the man’s shoulder reassuringly, but in an off-handed manner as he crossed him. Someone else’s problem, I guess… The guard thought. Ezekiel cut through any resistance like butter and was soon witnessing the deranged babble of Zizi’s trainer. The man stood between two gurneys, he loomed over his Fighter and beseeched the medics to reconsider. “Come on! There must be something. Something you can do. She is good, she brings in good cash, I will give you a cut…” “It is over… Let it go, they will give you another Fighter soon. You know better than to get attached Jerry.” The Biohacker was done with this conversation and Jeremy wasn’t. He clearly had made exactly that mistake. To Eze, he looked prohibitively attached to Zizi. This felt very exploitable. “I have a way to save her…” There was a confident cadence to Eze’s offer as he strolled up to the two medics and the trainer. “You do? What do you want for it?” There was an accent of suspicion in Jeremy’s question. No one did anything for free. Ezekiel clicked his tongue and addressed the BioHackers instead. “Where is the guy’s trainer?” “They rarely come to check on Fighters who lost and are presumed dea-” “What do you want for her?!” Jeremy spoke over the medic with an urgency. “Her… and him. I’ll save them, but they’re mine.” Ezekiel answered simply. Jeremy did not have the chance or the time to hesitate and the medics were thrilled to hand Genzo and Zizi over, they even rolled them into the black van for him. - He went to fetch the shock collars and cuffs. A pair for the ankles, a pair for the wrists and one for the neck. They were snapped onto his new subjects with a vapid efficiency. Ezekiel did not take risks. Transaction done. It was oddly relieving to drive away from the Bloody Blitz, gifts in hand. Tonight, the two Fighters would meet a new devil--or fallen angel rather-- and it wasn’t him. “It’d be fucking hilarious if I was rescuing you right?” He was not sure if they were conscious enough to hear his dark joke, but he was certain that they were in no state to respond. He drove past the East-facing cells by the arena and then the sign that read Quantum Brigade Living Quarters. The car slowed down, but he didn’t take that first turn. He took the dingier off road that followed. “Alas... Zizi and Genzo… I am the law. And you two are mine.” He took the back route to the officer’s apartment and parked the car by some trees off the road. Someone would come collect the car later. It had served its purpose and had now been appropriately discarded. He ambled to the secret exit to the officer’s houses, to make his entry. More secret pathways. And the grand house… Perks of being second-in-command. “SuperNova! I’m home sweetheart. And I brought you something special, but I’ll need you to help me bring them inside.”

[Category - 2]

[Tags: @lettuceknighted, @quirkykayleetam and @beckstriad - Thank you for being an awesome beta and helping me edit!]

#new plot arc #references to human trading #references to human trafficking #bloody blitz #oc Ezekiel #oc Zizi #oc Novara #oc Genzo #whump

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