shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shadowsong26) wrote2010-01-02 04:58 pm
shadowsong26) wrote2010-01-02 04:58 pm
another avatar/alias cross!
Sark had made his bed and had every intention of lying in it. Allying himself with Sloane had been the best choice at the time. He was more than aware of this, and had no reason to think that the situation had changed enough to make it a bad one.
He told himself that, repeatedly, while he paced in this small, stone room Sloane had told him to wait in. "There's a new partner of ours I want you to meet."
Talk of new partners made any sensible loyalty chameleon very, very nervous.
He wasn't kept waiting long, perhaps ten minutes. The door slid open and an elegant Chinese man came in. His movements were absolutely, eerily silent, despite his slight discomfort in the simple, dark suit he was wearing.
Sark noticed a few other details about the man during those first few seconds. He was average height, with narrow, greyish-green eyes. He wore his hair in a long braid, in a centuries-out-of-date fashion of the Chinese imperial court. He was a powerful man, physically, more powerful than at first glance--just as Sark himself was. And his shoes were made of stone.
"Good evening, Mr. Sark." The man's voice was deep, and calm, and ever so slightly sinister. "Our mutual friend asked me to speak with you."
Sark forced his eyes away from the stone shoes--who wears shoes made of stone? And how in hell does he walk so quietly in them?--to watch the man's face. "You have me at a disadvantage."
"Indeed," he replied, with a faint smile. "I am Long Feng."
Sark's blood ran cold. He knew that name. He knew that name. While he'd been working for Derevko, he'd gotten his hands on one of Long Feng's creatures. Derevko had spent less than five seconds with the creepy, too-cheerful woman, then shot her between the eyes. "There's no fixing what he did to that woman," Derevko had told him. "And some of them can be triggered to kill you with their bare hands with an innocuous phrase." She considered Long Feng one of the most dangerous men in the world.
And anything that scared Irina Derevko...
"Have a seat," Long Feng said, pleasantly. "I can see my reputation precedes me."
"It does," Sark replied, keeping his face and voice carefully blank. Long Feng smirked at him. Damn the man.
"Then you know of my work."
"I've seen it in action."
"Ah, yes, the Joo Dee your former employer killed. Such a pity, if I'd sent a different one...well, that is another matter for another time." Long Feng turned away from Sark briefly to light a lantern. "The Joo Dees are the least of my work, actually. The first stage, as it were."
Sark remained silent, wondering about the lantern. He watched as Long Feng turned back to him.
"Brute force brainwashing, completely rewriting a personality and goals. My way is not the only way, nor even the most efficient. Crude, inelegant, it has a purpose. I'm sure you know about the second stage, as well, the trigger phrases?"
He nodded.
"Good. The final stage...the final stage is what makes me valuable." Long Feng's smile grew rather venemous. "I leave the personality and most of the memories intact, changing just a few details. Remarkably useful for maintaining one's power base and influence, and for stabilizing those who have seen too much."
Sark knew why he was here. He wasn't going to be merely questioned. He started to stand up, but rocks grew around his feet, his wrists, his forehead. The lantern started spinning, and all other lights in the room went out.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but he couldn't block out the voice, that goddamned soft, gentle, deep voice that commanded all his attention.
Until death, this is where my loyalties lie.
He told himself that, repeatedly, while he paced in this small, stone room Sloane had told him to wait in. "There's a new partner of ours I want you to meet."
Talk of new partners made any sensible loyalty chameleon very, very nervous.
He wasn't kept waiting long, perhaps ten minutes. The door slid open and an elegant Chinese man came in. His movements were absolutely, eerily silent, despite his slight discomfort in the simple, dark suit he was wearing.
Sark noticed a few other details about the man during those first few seconds. He was average height, with narrow, greyish-green eyes. He wore his hair in a long braid, in a centuries-out-of-date fashion of the Chinese imperial court. He was a powerful man, physically, more powerful than at first glance--just as Sark himself was. And his shoes were made of stone.
"Good evening, Mr. Sark." The man's voice was deep, and calm, and ever so slightly sinister. "Our mutual friend asked me to speak with you."
Sark forced his eyes away from the stone shoes--who wears shoes made of stone? And how in hell does he walk so quietly in them?--to watch the man's face. "You have me at a disadvantage."
"Indeed," he replied, with a faint smile. "I am Long Feng."
Sark's blood ran cold. He knew that name. He knew that name. While he'd been working for Derevko, he'd gotten his hands on one of Long Feng's creatures. Derevko had spent less than five seconds with the creepy, too-cheerful woman, then shot her between the eyes. "There's no fixing what he did to that woman," Derevko had told him. "And some of them can be triggered to kill you with their bare hands with an innocuous phrase." She considered Long Feng one of the most dangerous men in the world.
And anything that scared Irina Derevko...
"Have a seat," Long Feng said, pleasantly. "I can see my reputation precedes me."
"It does," Sark replied, keeping his face and voice carefully blank. Long Feng smirked at him. Damn the man.
"Then you know of my work."
"I've seen it in action."
"Ah, yes, the Joo Dee your former employer killed. Such a pity, if I'd sent a different one...well, that is another matter for another time." Long Feng turned away from Sark briefly to light a lantern. "The Joo Dees are the least of my work, actually. The first stage, as it were."
Sark remained silent, wondering about the lantern. He watched as Long Feng turned back to him.
"Brute force brainwashing, completely rewriting a personality and goals. My way is not the only way, nor even the most efficient. Crude, inelegant, it has a purpose. I'm sure you know about the second stage, as well, the trigger phrases?"
He nodded.
"Good. The final stage...the final stage is what makes me valuable." Long Feng's smile grew rather venemous. "I leave the personality and most of the memories intact, changing just a few details. Remarkably useful for maintaining one's power base and influence, and for stabilizing those who have seen too much."
Sark knew why he was here. He wasn't going to be merely questioned. He started to stand up, but rocks grew around his feet, his wrists, his forehead. The lantern started spinning, and all other lights in the room went out.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but he couldn't block out the voice, that goddamned soft, gentle, deep voice that commanded all his attention.
Until death, this is where my loyalties lie.