Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20190205035159/@comment-25389303-20190811222430

Diaboli paid Brunhilde only a cursory glance as she approached the bridge. As if having the two Syndicate agents breathing down his neck wasn't vexing enough, now he had to worry about an indictable heiress as well.

The woman's easy demeanour unnerved him. If he was in her position, he wouldn't tolerate a rival to wield such influence over their fates as he did now. The fact that a gun wasn't already pointed to the back of his head was alarming enough. What could it mean? Were reinforcements already on the way? Was the secrecy of their position already jeopardised?

Anxious thoughts swirled ceaselessly in Diaboli's mind, to the point where it was difficult to focus on the heiress' words, while the mention of the Syndicate only brought more questions and doubts to the forefront of his mind. After having spent half the night trying to orchestrate their demise, it grated him that he was now playing the escape driver to the pair of agents. And in his haste to escape, he had unwittingly helped save those whom he had hoped most to see dead.

The bitter irony was not lost on him.

"Nobody seems to be fond of me these days," Diaboli eventually replied, staring off blankly into the distance as his mind continued to race. Finally, after much pondering, he rose from the controls and turned around, his expression grave.

"Tragoedia is the reason why any of you are alive right now. And unlike other lizards I know, he doesn't forget his promises."

With a move of his hand, the boat's speedy getaway slowed to a sudden crawl, with the fierce engine quietening to a pitiful putter. At their sluggish pace, the stillness of the night suddenly made itself known, with only the occasional wave or breath of wind disrupting the maritime tranquility.

"Speaking of promises, I meant what I said, back in the auction," Diaboli eventually continued, turning his empty gaze instead to Maris. "I won't suffer backstabbers in my kingdom. I suggest after tonight you taking your spying elsewhere, because I'm done giving second chances."

With a snap of his fingers, his whip-arm began to reconstruct itself. In a heartbeat it was fully formed, and as Diaboli began to walk towards the stairway down to the lower deck, it draped lazily over his shoulders like a vigiliant constrictor.

At the top of the steps, he momentarily paused. "You want to know what my plan is?" he asked in a low voice, without turning around. "Simple. It's to ruin everybody else's."



Trago couldn't help but be confused by this turn of events. Mutually-assured destruction was the most illogical of all outcomes, and yet those he had confronted seemed almost eager for it. Why? Had he not state the demands clearly enough? Did they not see him as a threat? What did he miss?

His orange eyes fixated on the small plastic box in McAllister's hand. His objective. Perfect.

"That device must be destroyed," he replied firmly. "It jeopardises the safety of this vessel. Either you destroy it, or I will be forced to destroy you both. This is my mission. I must not fail my mission."

The A.I. was saved from the decision with the arrival of his master. Diaboli's expression was one of pure irritation as he approached the group, and the sight of his weapon made his displeasure obvious.

"I can hear the baring of teeth from the bridge. What's the problem?" he asked irritably, his one-eyed gaze flitting from one person to another, until eventually it landed on Trago.

"These two refuse to part with their communication devices, commander," the robot replied immediately, casting an almost accusatory look at Dust and Lustra.

Diaboli considered the two of them in turn, before shifting his gaze to their wounded comrade. To the crime lord, the girl looked like she was still a teenager - hardly the kind of troublemaker he had expected to find. Between her, a dusty cowboy and the lady with the unflattering sneer, he didn't feel particularly threatened by their presence.

"Those are some nasty wounds. You need to be taken to a hospital immediately," Diaboli commented, his gaze softening as he knelt down in front of Jett. The melding of flesh and metal was a curious sight, but he pushed those thoughts aside as he gauged the severity of the injuries.

"Unfortunately, I can't bring us ashore unless I know it's safe. So unless you've got a second pair of legs stashed away somewhere, you're stuck here." Diaboli looked up, directing his next words at Dust. "But I'm willing to make a compromise. Give up your tech, and I'll let you choose where you'll be dropped off. Within reason, of course. Nobody else need know where. Nobody will be waiting for you."

Standing up straight, Diaboli rolled his shoulders one at a time before shrugging. "Or you can wait for your friend to bleed out. Your choice."