Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20170521035143/@comment-25389303-20170522192255

(Not yet, I'm just a fan of the song's artist. I hear it's pretty good)

Diaboli glanced up a moment too late, and a second later he was engulfed by the greyish mist that flooded out of the aircraft door. When it dissipated, he stood motionless at the foot of the aircraft with a look of annoyance on his face, which was only partially hidden by his scarf and now-messy white hair.

Why does everything have to be so difficult?

With a resigned sigh, he stepped away from the billowing smoke and simply watched the scene develop around him. Despite the situation, he smiled slightly as a crew of firefighters and mechanics rushed passed him, shaking his head as they begun spraying the interior with pressurised water.

"It's not a fire, you idiots, there's no heat!" he eventually shouted, tugging the scarf down so that he could speak. "It's probably the ventilation or something. You trying to get yourselves electrocuted?"

One of the firefighters seemed to hear him, and signaled for the others to stop. Sure enough, the moment the water stopped spraying, the source of the smoke seemed to have vanished.

Ignoring their warnings and shouts of alarm, Diaboli took several steps forward and ascended the short entrance ramp - peering up and down every surface for a possible explaination. Finding none, he shrugged to himself and stepped back down onto the tarmac.

"Yeah, must be the ventilation. Probably a malfunction in the cooling system," he deduced, earning several nods from those nearby.

"Probably right, from the looks of things," one of the mechanics said, who had followed suit and had begun examining the walls of the aircraft. "If that's the case, it shouldn't take too long to fix. An hour, maybe?"

"Are you kidding me?" A nearby businesswoman interjected from behind them, with a look of deep concern on her face. "I'm not getting on an airship that just began billowing smoke all over the place!"

There was a chorus of agreement from the other passengers, and even Diaboli found himself nodding. He'd been thrown out of an aircraft several months before, and the prospect of crashing in the middle of Grimm-infested god-knows-where again was unappealing to say the least.

I think I'll take the flight tomorrow, he decided after a moment's thought. I'd fly myself there if somebody hadn't stolen my goddamn Bullhead again.

Shouldering his bag for the second time, Diaboli turned and began walking in the direction of the outside exit to the airport. His home in Mistral was only a few blocks away, in the business district of the city, so he could walk there pretty easily. He'd crash there again for the night, then come back to catch the morning flight.

Normally, he would have sensed the pair of piercing orange eyes following him as soon as his concentration turned away from the plane. However, as soon as he did so, the Scroll in his hand began to ring. Reading the name of the caller, Diaboli smiled at his good fortune.

On the subject of thieves, he thought, pressing the 'accept' button and placing the Scroll to his ear as he joined a group of tourists who had grown bored of the spectacle around them and had begun to leave the runway as well.

"Decade here. Let me just say that it's nice of you to call me in person for once, Director," he greeted, swapping out his usual disinterested voice for an amused one.

"I thought it suitable, considering it is your first day on the job," a cool, formal voice replied. Even with the slight voice modifier the caller was using, Diaboli could still make out his faint Atlesian accent. "I hope you boarded your ship without problem. You should be in the air by now, yes?"

"Actually, no. The aircraft you reserved for me just broke down. I'll be delayed until tomorrow."

There was a slight pause as the caller took in the information, before he spoke again.

"How...unexpected. And suspicious, no? I hope you haven't gotten yourself compromised already, 'Washington'."

"Impossible," Diaboli replied flatly. "A mere coincidence, nothing more. But I expect the first downpayment upon my arrival. Three million, like we agreed."

Another silence. The man behind the voice certainly liked to take his time before speaking. But when he did, there was a hint of unmistakable malice that wasn't there before.

"You'll get your money, but don't forget your place. You are a mercenary - nothing less, and certainly nothing more. If I don't see results, there will be consequences."

Diaboli smirked. "Don't worry. I have as much reason to do this as you do. The money's just an added bonus. If that is all, I'll be hanging up now."

A short, dark chuckle came through the speaker at his words - one that made even Diaboli feel colder.

"Indeed. Until next time."

The man ended the call before Diaboli had a chance to, depriving him of the satisfaction of doing so. As he pocketed the Scroll, he pondered whether or not he was making a mistake by involving himself with that side of the criminal world. Eventually, however, he dismissed the doubts with a laugh.

''What can I say? I'm an entrepreneur.''

Still oblivious to the fact that he had two people trailing behind him, Diaboli strolled out of the airport gates and looked around, waiting for a gap in the traffic and debating whether he should stop for some lunch on the way home.