The Conquerors bloodline

"Eclectic…" Parc chuckled staring up at the bright neon sign hanging above the dark entrance to the nightclub. He'd seen it a few times before, never been inside though. At night he was normally doing something more exhilarating then standing on a flashing floor dancing like a drunk teenager with a fake ID. It had been a night since his meeting with Blake, he'd first planned to come just after but after a call from a surprisingly antsy Summer, well, he thought to just go a day later.

The club was settled on the edge of the industrial area, a fact that had left plenty of warehouses empty having taken up a whole warehouse for its thumping base. There was a rhythm to the music, a blend of many of the trailer songs he'd listened to religiously, he doubted it would last very long as the DJ would undoubtedly be changing to ear achingly loud monstrosity.

Parc took one step closer and the doors slid open automatically. The music already thumped with such force he could feel his teeth rattling uncomfortably inside his mouth. He licked his teeth ensuring they weren't coming loose and stepped deeper inside until he was so far in the doors sensors couldn't recognize him and shut hissingly behind him.

He eyed the room and the throngs of people dancing on dancefloor. Their hair colours all seeming monotone from the assortment of flashing lights strewn around the room. Parc realigned his collar then eyed some more. Searching the room for his choice of target, many people, men dressed in black with shades were looking at him with expressions he could only guess was recognition. To the far left of the room was a bar, it was there he locked onto a man he may have mistaken for one of the grunts had he not had white sleeves and no hat on.

By his side were two girls, the Malachite twins and the mans body guards. Parc knew the one with the white dress and long hair was Melanie Malachite while the one in the red skirted dress was Miltiades or Miltia Malachite. Out of all the people here they were the most threatening but they wouldn't be a problem if push came to shove and a fight broke out.

As came with the title of twins, the two were nearly indistingushable from eachother with their cold green eyes and copycat choice of dress. It was a type of strapless thigh length skirt with small chains at the belly with thick fur shrugs of white and black respectively going to Melanie and Miltia. Their legs were covered with laced up thigh high boots, both wearing thigh high stockings just beneath that connected with the faintest garter straps he could see from this distance.

Miltia was the first to notice him as she was leaning with her back against the bar, she latched onto him for a second then leaned over to whisper something into her sisters ear. Melanie then turned back her head to see if what her sister had said was true and when she did, she leaned over to their boss, Hei Xiong or as everyone called him, Junior. Though the thick and neatly trimmed beard went against what his name called for.

Junior looked up with only a faint turn of his head and just behind his red trimmed sunglasses Parc could swear he saw the man narrow his eyes. Xiong raised one hand to the barkeep and spoke something to him. Next thing a full glass of something amber in hue was set before him.

Parc chuckled and descended the set of stairs leading down to the main party place of the club but skirted around the throngs of likely drunk, possibly high, 'adults.' As he drew near Miltia pushed off the counter and moved away letting Parc pass between her and Melanie and followed a step behind as Parc came to stand on the free side of Hei Xiong. Easy to see she was boxing him in as she leaned her back nonchalantly against the counter and moved her hands to her hips where he could faintly see the glisten of metal claws.

"So,how's the balls?"

Xiong fumbled, clutched his glass tight and nearly choked on the fluid inside. Xiong banged chest while Melanie patted his back in an attempt to help. When the coughing subsided Xiong turned a spiteful glower Parc's way. "Fine." He practically hissed but ground his trembling legs together remembering that traumatic day where a psychopathic blonde came and decided his manhood seemed like a good hand to hold and squeeze… tightly.

"Good, Good." Parc rose a finger to the bartender just as he set down a scroll and ordered, "one white russian." He said but drew the blankest stare he could from the man. "Oh, right, one white atlesian?" Atlas seemed like the closest thing to russia in this world and by the looks of it, he was right as the bartender moved swiftly putting together his drink.

"Russian, ain't ever heard of a place like that." Xiong sipped his whiskey, the ice inside clunking against the glass.

"You wouldn't have. Not many people around here know about it." Parc took the glass from the bartender and swirled together the distinct layer of remnants version of kahlua and the upper layer of either heavy cream or milk.

"I know everything kid. Russia, doesn't exist."

"Arrogant much?" Parc snorted eyeing up Miltia by his side. Faintly he could see her green orbs narrowing, accentuated by the heavy red highlights around them. She was cute considering her short stature and pristine white skin. Parc then looked over to Melanie, she was much like her sister with softly accentuated facial features and what he was guessing a little too much concealer. Both were doing their utmost to act like they weren't watching him, but he knew they were, not chance they weren't.

"Out of everyone in Vale. Pretty sure I've got a right to be arrogant." The man scoffed. "What do you want, Evans." His glass clunked against the counter as Xiong read the labels of the alchol on display.

"Always surprises me how quickly word moves through the underground."

"When a man with a target on his back appears in my neck of the woods. I will know about it. You've got some annoying fools looking for you, you know that?"

Parc shrugged sipping on his white atlesian, the coffee was sweet but not overbearingly coffee, added with the slight zing of the vodka as it went down made this one of Parc's favourite drinks. "How long till they get here?" Parc asked.

Xiong raised a brow, "an hour or two. Last I heard they were all out of town, least, the leaders were. The rat's busy with something else."

"And what's that?" Parc asked already knowing full well what 'that' was.

"None of your business."

"Now that's just rude. But hey, you're not wrong." Parc flipped over in a manner mimicking the way Miltia was standing and watched the crowd. In the corners of his vission the guards were on edge, all watching him but keeping just as good a watch over the rest of the guest for any unruly idiots.

"So, what brings you here. Not here to cause me hell are you? Took me weeks to get this place fixed up after blondie. By the way. How is the little bitch? You're teaching her up at Beacon aren't you?"

"I am," Parc laughed. "She doesn't like me."

"Oh?" xiong hummed curiously, "and whys that? Something to do with those rumours going around that you're a hitman?"

"Nail on the head Junior, nail on the head." He paused his speech and looked to Miltia as she began making soft sniffing noises though seemed other wise unfazed by his scent. "Not here for any reason, just passing by and thought I might as well introduce myself in the flesh instead of just letting you know me by hearsay."

"That's a first." Xiong downed the last of his whisky and tapped the counter with his index to order another round. "Normally people like you keep away from people like me."

Miltia kept sniffing and drew a bit closer, "like what you smell?" Parc questioned and quickly Miltia pulled away and scowled. She truly kept to her less than enthused persona Parc remembered from the few times she'd appeared. "First mistake, I'm not a person like me. I'm me. And torchwick and his overlords are about as intimidating as a kindergartner who didn't get its lollipop."

Xiong paused the fell back into a hearty but low laugh. "You've go balls, you know that?"

"Two of them, both of which I am well acquainted with. You could say we're one in the same."

The crime boss shook his head, amusment evident in his expression. "Cute kid. Real cute. Can already tell you're going to be a fun one." Juniors expression rapidly contorted and grew serious, "now tell me why you're really here. No chance in hell you came here for something as dull as meeting lil'ol me."

"Fine, fine." Parc cracked his neck, sighing from the relief the popping gave him. "Thought this place would make a good meeting ground to meet up with my hunters. No man's land you might call it."

Junior darkened, "no. I just got this place fixed, I am not having another war in here."

"Luckily, I'm not planning on fighting a war, but if that's really a problem then…" Parc took a few seconds to dig through his satchel for a bar of gold and slapped it down, its weight rumbling a good three meters of the counter, "this should be enough for reperations, no?"

Xiong looked down at it in tandem with the twins, each astonished by the chunk of what at first glance looked to be pure gold. Xiong gulped, set down his glass then lifted the bar up, his arm wobbling from the weight. He smirked, "yeah. Yeah it does. And you know what, because of your kind… donation, I think you deserve another round. This time on me."

No sooner then a second did a fresh atlesian arrive by Parc. He downed the last and lifted the knew. "Kind man." Xiong held out his own glass and Parc clunked it together in a mock cheers.

Little had the two noticed, the twins had shared a look with each other and were eyeing up the bar of gold with metaphorical lien signs in their eyes.

***

***

Ya sick bastards will be glad to know that I'm thinking of MAYBE extending TCB another few worlds.