Post by Louis Cypher on Sept 5, 2014 21:26:43 GMT -5
Louis Cypher
Full Name- Louis Adamson Cypher
Gender- Male
Age- 30 (Is actually much older)
Date of Birth- 12/21/1983 (according to records)
Sexual Orientation- Bisexual (Doesn't subscribe to labels)
Location- New York
Celebrity Claim- Fimmel, Travis
What should we call you?- BTP (BeyondThePale)
Play anyone else?- Gabriel McBride
Have You Read the Rules?- Wait, I gotta go milk the cat
Personality-
Louis is a sociopath through and through. He is, and has been, the CEO of the corporation he started in the early 1900's. Every few decades he fakes his death and returns as his own successor. His longevity has given him a god complex and he does nothing to even attempt to quell his ego. Since he first developed his gift, Louis was hailed as a God, so he has had a lot of practice playing the role.
His unnaturally long lifespan has only served to harden him against emotions of nearly every kind. He believes he lives an eternity free of vice and imperfection, but his deepest flaws are those he himself does not perceive as weaknesses. He is prideful; his lifetime spent perfecting himself, in both mind and body, has made him a specimen, even amongst those he allows himself to perceive as his peers. Unfortunately, or perhaps by intent, those he views as his peers are long since dead or barely considered living at all. His view of his own self perfection is the source of his narcissism and his avarice is the result of his desire for ever evolving expansion of his own personal gain. The God he once was, determines what feeds the megalomaniacal businessman he is today.
Louis views humans as tools, and by necessity; food. Nothing more, nothing less. The increase in those evolved beings, like him, in recent years has altered Louis' perception of the world he now lives in. He is curious of this new age and he has planted roots in its ever advancing conceptualization. He thinks of himself as an equal observer and antagonist, wondering just how far he can push before the entirety of civilization implodes upon itself.
Likes-
Dislikes-
Strengths-
Weaknesses-
Skills-
Flaws-
Abilities/Powers/Skills-
Abilities: Primary – Life Force Consumption
Secondary – Peak Human Condition
Powers:
Life Force Consumption: By touch, Louis is capable of absorbing the life force of a living being and adding it to his own. This results in a form of longevity (prolonged life span) as well as Cellular Regeneration. He may absorb as much, or as little, Life Force as he determines upon making physical contact with a living being. He is also capable of transferring his own life force to another individual for the purpose of healing, or even reversing the aging process.
When Louis absorbs life force, it reduces the target's life span (for longevity) and/or current health (for cellular regeneration). After being afflicted by this ability, the victim may become fatigued, ill, or should he be permitted to draw exorbitant amounts of life force, they could be severely aged or even dead. Louis is capable of controlling this ability as long as he "feeds" regularly. This is an ability that must always be used, like an addictive parasite within the host. If he does not "feed" after a while he will show signs of withdrawal, as well as physical and mental symptoms of starvation. The longest he went without feeding was several centuries while wondering a desert, only surviving due to his ability cannibalizing his life force reserve from his previously gluttonous, and wanton use of it. This self starvation left him in a coma like state for an unknown length of time (Unknown because he wasn't sure exactly when he fell victim to it initially). <More of this event is covered in his backstory>
For a lesser used application of this ability, Louis can reverse the stream of consumption to heal or otherwise revitalize another being, allowing them to temporarily enjoy the effects of peak condition for 24 hours (the time it takes for their new life force to adapt to their own). With this he can heal wounds, reduce the effects of aging, or even (if the subject has not been dead long enough to cause damage to their brain stem)
If Louis absorbs a person's remaining life force and returns it after metabolizing it (making it his own, within a matter of moments as opposed to the 24 hours stipulated by a designated subject) he may exert a level of dominance of the subject. For the 24 hour period that the life force he has given them "metabolizes" the subject is susceptible to a single empathic command.
Life Force consumption also has an effect on Louis's peak condition. Depending on the amount of Life Force he consumes his peak condition temporarily enters superhuman condition. The average time, in his experience, is 1 second per year of life consumed. This effect releases large amounts of endorphins and dopamine into his brain, much like the effects of a narcotic stimulant.
Peak Human Condition: Due to his longevity and constantly revitalizing form, Louis' physical and mental capacity is at the peak of the human condition. He possesses the strength, speed, agility and endurance equivalent to that of a master athlete in each form. He is, by all accounts, the perfect athlete, though he is lean and by all appearances soft, Louis has honed himself to physical perfection over his vast life span. During his expansive existence, Louis has developed a natural form of eidetic memory, having learned more than even the most complete collection of historical documents could ever teach, since he had the distinct advantage of living through nearly each and every event known to modern man (since the rise of the Sumerian empire). His ability to rejuvenate mind and body has allowed him to unlock his potential. While he is not considered "beyond human ability" in certain regards, he is certainly more complete in both aspects (physical and mental) simultaneously, than any "normal" human may ever hope to become.
Detailed Definitions of Peak Human Capabilities:
100% Muscle Use: Louis is capable of using every muscle in his body. While under normal conditions most humans use only 30 percent. Even chimps can be 4 times stronger than the average human because they can use every muscle in the body. This is because their body structure allows them to do so.
Maximum Brain Capacity: Louis can use/access 100% of his brain's capacity, retaining extensive knowledge and maximum usage of memory and information processing. He is able to think in ways that only the most intellectually evolved humans could ever imagine or understand. As a result, Louis is naturally more intelligent than the most intellectual human, or at least able to use his brain more efficiently. He is able to perform feats of the mind comparable to computers: remembering vast amounts of knowledge flawlessly, performing complex calculations or other similar tasks. He is capable of learning a variety of complex skills in as little as a day, which would take a normal person years to attain mastery over.
Peak Agility: Louis' agility is of a superior standard, even among gold-medal-winning athletes and other highly trained professionals in the field of athletics. Louis is able to climb the highest of buildings with no form of support and navigate any variety of obstacle courses with apparent ease and grace. Furthermore, Louis is capable of jumping up to 6.2meter/20 ft in a single bound and 3.2meter/10 feet without a starting run. Louis can always accurately coordinate his body with perfect balance, dexterity and flexibility. Even Louis' celerity is much better than the likes of an ordinary human enabling him to move with perfect reflex, speed, and accuracy.
Peak Accuracy: Louis is capable of achieving smaller and more distant targets depending on his perception of their location. Louis' brain is hardwired for advanced precision, superior to any master archer. Louis' aim is obviously not supernatural, it is only conditioned to the peak of human efficiency.
Peak Combat Capability: Louis' combat ability is enhanced to that of the very zenith of natural potential. Louis is able to take down multiple grand-masters at once with this ability. Louis' capabilities are beyond that of the finest martial artists and learns styles and techniques faster than a normal human. Louis may even be able to take down unskilled Super-humans with this ability.
Peak Durability: Louis has a higher-level of bone and muscle density than the average person. His durability is at the peak of human conditioning, which makes him capable of withstanding intense situations that the average person cannot.
Peak Endurance: Louis can endure more physical stress than average humans. He can tolerate large amounts of physical pain such as being shot or stabbed repeatedly, burned with high heat, and beatings that no ordinary person could handle. He can also hold his breath for 3-7 minutes and remain calm through stressful or painful situations. He can also tolerate extreme hunger, unbearable thirst, strong urges to sleep and is capable of running for extended distances without ever losing his breath. Additionally, he can exert himself to maximum capacity for several hours without the need to rest, or even before showing any sign of fatigue (See peak speed for maximum running capacity).
Peak Healing: Louis' natural healing capabilities are at the highest levels of human potential. his white blood cells fight off microbes, infections, diseases, disorders, wounds, etc at an accelerated rate. As a result, cuts/wounds would be healed in minutes and broken bones healed in hours.
Peak Longevity: Louis naturally ages slower than normal humans, due to having extremely healthy cells, even without taking his primary ability into consideration. The consumption of life force has conditioned his natural longevity to a point that it is on par with Immortality. He can survive up to 200+ years without feeding, though this would result in the progressive reduction of both physical and mental ability until he is rendered to a death like catatonic state, until he is capable of consuming enough Life Force to return him to a state of true life.
Peak Reflexes: Louis can catch a fired arrow in midair, dodge offensive attacks, and perform amazing physically defensive feats; He could even evade strikes from beings with super speed, and dodge multiple gunfire with ease.
Peak Sensory System: Louis' sense of sight, touch, hearing, smell and taste are enhanced to the peak of human evolution. Louis is capable of near telescopic sight, acute tactile sensitivity, Auditory functions capable of hearing nearly inaudible sounds, Olfactory acuity which allows him a sense of smell similar to an animal as well as the ability to taste even the most remote and minute ingredients.
Peak Speed: Louis is capable of running up to 60km/h (40 mph) effortlessly and can reach this speed in as little as a few seconds. He may build up enough momentum to run twice this speed over a short period of time.
Peak Strength: Louis is capable of lifting many times his own body weight. His max potential is roughly 10 times that of the average human. Assuming that the average healthy/fit human male can lift and carry 50 lbs with relative ease, Louis would then be capable of lifting 500lbs with the same level of ease.
Peak Understanding: Louis is possessed of a greater understanding and realization of concepts, people, things, events or situations than the average human, resulting in the ability to apply perceptions, judgments and actions in keeping with this understanding. He has been around to see the rise and fall of every civilization since ancient Sumer, affording him a deeper insight into the probability of survivability from an individual level to a national level. Louis is in complete control of his emotional reactions, so that universal principles, reason and knowledge prevail to determine his actions. Peak Understanding is also the comprehension of what is true coupled with optimum judgment as to what action he should take. However, having peak understanding does not mean that other factors (such as personality/character flaws) are unable to prevent him from acting upon such understanding, or even accepting it as truth if it is something he is incapable of accepting.
Effects of Life Force Consumption on Peak Human Condition: The moment Louis consumes life force, his peak condition is temporarily raised to superhuman levels (the duration of this effect depends on the amount consumed). He can choose to enhance either his mental or his physical functions at one time. His longevity and natural healing capabilities are the most immediate conditions effected by life fore consumption.
Limits-
Life Force Consumption: This ability is limited by its tactile application, meaning he must make physical contact with his intended victim in order to activate the life force feeding process. Furthermore, Louis is afflicted by constant hunger, which he has endured since he first used this ability. He knows well the limits of his ability to resist the urge to feed, and by challenging it, he has developed an endurance threshold. This threshold is fragile and must be methodical and meticulously maintained. If he is not allowed to feed for any extensive period of time, beyond his established threshold, he finds himself lost in a frenzy of mythical berserker proportions, until his hunger is fully satiated. If he is denied the ability to feed for a period of time that this frenzy is allowed to pass, his mental and physical peak condition begins to deteriorate as described below (See Peak Human Condition Limitations).
Additionally, If he is reduced to a death like state, and his brain stem is unobstructed, his life force consumption effects an area, at a severe reduction in strength. In such a state, he may consume a single human, around 30 years of age, within a few minutes. The area is limited to about ten feet.
He must feed regularly or suffer adverse effects. 24 hours after his last full consumption, he becomes "hungry" again. Clinically speaking, Louis suffers from a similar condition as one with severe plasma and red blood cell deficiency leaving him in a state of insatiable starvation until he consumes sufficient life force to revitalize himself. Within 24 hours after his latest complete "feeding", his plasma will reduce to its normal deficiency and within 12 weeks his red blood cells are all but depleted and his hemoglobin levels will have plummeted to the point that the starvation will have become unbearable. If he has not consumed life force by this time his physical and mental state begins a slow deterioration until his mind is too weak to deny his primitive desires and he looses himself in a berserker like state. He can sustain himself temporarily on normal food and drink, prolonging this deterioration, but eventually it will overcome him. Alcohol has proven to be the most effective prolonging device at his disposal on more than one occasion.
Granting life force to others requires a lot of effort on his part. Regardless if he simply cannibalizes their own life force (returning the life force he took from the subject to them). Depending on the amount needed, he is left with a certain degree of fatigue. Healing potentially fatal wounds or reducing decades of aging, may leave him short of breath, while returning a subject to life or reducing an elderly person in their venerable years to their mid twenties, could render him exhausted, or even unconscious. Reversing the flow of consumption always taxes him in some way or another. Louis can only revitalize a person in need. He can not heal a healthy/unharmed person, nor can he reduce the effects of aging beyond establishing perfect adult health (he can not reduce an adult to adolescence anymore than he could do so to himself). This ability simply reverses any ill effects until the subject's body is in perfect health (including the removal of venerable appearances and deficiencies).
Finally, his control is further limited by a single empathic command imparted to the subject upon granting them his life force. This could be as exact as "view me as your most trusted friend" to as ambiguous as "Destroy my enemies". The subject would view this suggestion as its own desires, in exactly the way that Louis dictates, and act upon it accordingly. For the first 24 hours, this empathic suggestion becomes an overwhelming obsession for the target, after which it becomes a subconscious subliminal suggestion. The suggestion is imparted as a feeling, either visual or conceptual, whichever the target reacts most immediately toward.
Peak Human Condition: His physical and mental superiority deteriorates as his "hunger" grows, just as if he was starving from lack of nourishment. The longer he goes without feeding the weaker he becomes both mentally and physically. After roughly 12 weeks without consuming life force, Louis begins a slow descent into a more primitive mentality, until he reaches a state of 'blood lust' akin to a berserker's rage. His only goal in that state is to beat any potential victim into submission so that he may feed upon their life force. If he fights through this 'blood lust' he loses the will to survive and descends into a slow mental and physical decline, until finally he falls into a catatonic state.
Unconscious/Dead/Catatonic Starvation: While in this state, Louis' life force consumption evolves beyond its tactile requirements. Instead it radiates from his body. The amount he consumes in this state depends on how close the source of life is and how deteriorated his mental and physical self has become. As soon as he obtains consciousness/renewed sentience, his life force consumption returns to its tactile limitations. An obstruction to his brain stem (foreign object introduced to the point that the brain connects with the spine) will nullify this effect to the point that he is only sustained enough not to decompose.
Appearance-
Louis is well groomed and in perfect shape. His genetic structure will not allow his body to deviate from this state of perfection, requiring little, if any, maintenance. His hair is always longer than most business men are expected to possess, however he tends to style it appropriately, so as to not appear "wild" or "untamed". He displays perfect posture at all times and walks with a gait of confidence and superiority that would not be expected of a man his age, without being considered pompous and entitled. No, he was a man who knows well his considerable position in the world and his demeanor reflects his knowing that he earned every step he methodically executes.
As a business man, as well as a bit of a playboy, as it were, Louis dresses for success; a word that defines every aspect of his privileged existence. He wears five thousand dollar suits, never the same one on any given day. He prefers predominantly dark colored attire, but is fashionably enlightened enough to break up the dark in shades of color from his accessories.
Faction- Villain (Ark Industries)
Birthplace New York City, New York, USA [Falsified]
Mother- Unnamed Surrogate [Falsified]
Father- Cain Adamson Cypher- Deceased - Adoptive [Falsified]
Siblings- None
Spouse / Partner- None
Children- None
History-
According to official records, he was born Louis C. Cypher in 1983, as a result of an arrangement made by his birth father Cain Adamson Cypher and an unnamed surrogate mother. According to his records, Louis was sent away at birth to be raised for one purpose and one purpose alone; to become the heir to Cypher Industries and the Cypher family fortune. A practice that can easily be determined to be a family tradition since Adam Louis Cypher first came to America in 1915. When Cain Cypher died on December 21st 2012, Louis made his first ever public appearance accepting his inheritance via press conference which followed immediately by a board meeting at Cypher industries. The board meeting was interrupted by a man wielding an automatic riffle who managed to murder over half the bard members prior to taking his own life. It was determined that this same man was responsible for Cain Adamson Cypher's murder as he was found in possession of the hilt of the blade that had broken off in the back of the former CEO's skull, at the base of his spinal cord. The case was closed and the suspicions of the circumstances involving Louis' ascension were laid to rest.
This is a decent enough story in and of itself, a believable, all be it odd one at that. However there is more to the mystery of Louis hidden by the tragedy that lead to his inheritance. In truth, Louis Cypher was Cain Adamson Cypher...in fact, the same man had played the roll of CEO of Cypher Industries for the last century. The real Adam Cypher came from a family of modest means and status in Ireland. Sadly he had no family, no heirs and no prospects. His health was fading and his wealth was draining just as quickly. What is not on record today, is that Adam Cypher died. Not due to succumbing to his disease, but by far more nefarious means. The man who now stands as the CEO of Cypher Industries took more from Adam Cypher than his name. It was all a situation of happenstance and aligning of opportunities.
The man who has evolved into Louis Cypher is barely a man at all, at least not as he perceives himself, and for good reason. If it weren't already obvious by references to his longevity over the last century, Louis is no mere human. He is an extension of the species of genus “Homo Sapiens”, though he has evolved to something much more. In his time, when he first became aware of his gift, he was revered as a deistic being; a God.
Louis actually predates even the earliest development of Sumeria. Even Louis is uncertain of how long he lived prior to the advancement of human civilization, however he does know one thing for certain. He killed his brother over a woman and was exiled from his homeland. It was in his wondering, shunned by his people, that he first attempted to end his own life. He threw himself from a cliff into shallow water and was found on shore by people who believed him dead. Upon touching him, they discovered at the same moment as he did...that he was very much alive and had the ability to feed off the life force of others in order to continue living. He continued his travels, cursed, he believed, by the God of his people to never find eternal peace for taking the life of his brother. Eventually he found himself wondering a barren wasteland, with no sign of life for unimaginable hours. Finally he collapsed, thinking that he might finally know peace and never awaken from the darkness which took him. However this peace was short lived...at least in terms of his understanding of the passage of time.
He soon found himself, floating in and out of consciousness as his body's innate desire to feed upon life force discovered sources of nourishment. At first it was subtle, like a man dying of thirst, but can only find a single drop at a time, and this alone was barely enough to sustain him. He was less than a man when he felt his consciousness expanding. He was aware that he had somehow fallen into a cavern of some sort. Centuries of dust and debris clung to his form, his robes having long since given way to the erosion of time. His skin had become hard like stone due to the collection of the elements as time progressed and he remained laying upon a natural elevated stone slab. He had no concept of the perception of time, however there were moments of deeper clarity...those few moments when he realized he had somehow attracted worshipers. His body's innate aura of life force consumption made these people believe him to be some kind of physical personification of a deistic power. They soon began making sacrifices to him. First it was animals, then eventually they began sacrificing their elderly and soon enough their young. However, they did not understand the scope of his ability. They would slit the throats of their sacrifices and drop them within the radius of his consuming aura. He only ever had a few precious moments of true life force coursing in his body before it was inevitably snuffed by “natural” selection.
Eventually, he became strong enough to move...ever so slightly. Until one day they found him standing upon his slab. They took it as an omen that he was coming to them...to guide them, or some other foolish prophetic assumption. In truth, the more aware he became, the more board he became as well. He wanted to see their reactions, he wanted to test their resolve to worship him...for he had grown accustom to it and perhaps, in his delirium, he submitted to their perception of him. They erected a throne made of solid gold and placed it behind him on the slab, careful not to offer any unofficial sacrifices in the process. He was pleased with their devotion and he eventually was found seated upon it. He was growing less certain with his desire to fade out of existence and more certain with his evolving intent to rise above the curse he had supposedly been burdened with. He even began to view it as a reward for the sacrifice he had made of his brother to his people's God, or whatever it was they prayed to. Soon, he even became certain that there was no God before him...that through his sacrifice and trials he had earned his place as a true God amongst mortals. Such was his destiny...and such was the effect that time and constant deification had on such a broken mind as his.
Finally, one night came, that he was made aware of a new sacrifice...this one was not one of slaughter, but one of unmolested and not fading from his grasp. It was fully his to take. Though not enough to provide him the strength to break free of his temporal constructed prison, but it was enough for him to take note of a young girl. She was apparently a person of great importance for she had lead a young man to his aura and successfully disabled him without killing him so that he could be fed to her beloved God-king. This is what she called him...or so he believed from what he could decipher of their language. She brought him a similar sacrifice every full moon and he could feel himself growing stronger as the years progressed. Soon the girl who could not have been more than seven summers into life when she started this ritual, was a young woman, and recently betrothed to a leader of a rival clan. She told him that her father planned to unite the two most powerful clans so that they may unite all their people within a single kingdom. She did not want this and prayed to him for guidance, for salvation...for protection. On this night, she had given him three strong men as sacrifice, thinking her enhanced devotion would spur him into action. She was disappointed to see he remained as still as the stone he was apparently crafted from. It wasn't until her betrothed husband found her here and the bodies of his three most loyal servants dead at their idol's feet that he took to beating her for her arrogance. It was a man's duty to select sacrifices for the betterment of their people, not for a woman and her whims. It took a moment for his actions to register. Perhaps it was the increase in life force he was allowed to consume...perhaps it was the violence that was unfolding before him...or perhaps it was that he cared...no...he knew why something had changed in him at that moment. This woman, this...Lur'aella, he believed she called herself, though he could not be certain he even cared enough to truly remember her name...Either way, she did not belong to this dying thing that clung to his fading life like so little lard to a sweltering cooking pot. She had not made sacrifices to this waste of delicious life force. She was HIS...and he would not allow what is HIS to be disturbed with such blatant disrespect.
For the first time in centuries...He moved...their God-King cracked the shackles of his temporal prison and stepped from the stone slab that had been all he knew for longer than he cared to remember. He left the throne and the slab in what seemed to be a single stride and he took that which was his to claim. The man turned on him, thinking him some insubordinate mortal he could potentially strike down. Little did he know, his hand had raised to a God...and never would it raise again.
He took his place as God-King of the clans and named Lur'aella his high-priestess. His was the first true kingdom, known today as Mesopotamia. It wasn't until Lur'aella passed away that he took his leave from his verging kingdom. Mesopotamia became divided and he once again became a wanderer, though with a different purpose in mind. He was not meant to be a mere ruler of a kingdom. Over the decades as a living God-King, he discovered that less was more...and he would rather just simply be a God. What's more, is that he developed an obsessive certainty that there were others in the world like him...perhaps even older than him, that could reveal to him the true meaning of their gifts and the purpose of their being in this world of lesser beings.
Needless to say he found those like him. Beings masquerading as pantheons and myth, while seated on high and doing not more than what he himself had been doing in Mesopotamia. Be it the Greek Gods, Roman Gods, Gaelic, Mayan, Asian, Aztec, Middle Eastern...They were all the same...doomed to one day fade from existence and be rendered not more than myth and in some instances of modern recollection, fantasy. He knew he wanted to be more...he knew he could be more. He walked through the ages, seeking his purpose, looking for a place that his gifts would be worthy of. Until finally he realized...such a place did not exist. There would be no kingdom worthy of his singular attention...unless he helped forge it. He had to discover a way to blend into the world, to adapt to its all be it unbearably slow, evolution and when it became large enough, adequately world encompassing...he could simply sit back and manipulate it for his own amusement.
Sadly it took too long...and he became complacent in its lack of adequate progress. The new world came and went and the ages passed until he found himself wondering 19th century Europe, just as lost as he had been in that desert so many centuries ago, seeking the end of eternity. He did not succumb as he had before, not after he had finally discovered the enjoyment of living as he was capable of doing. He enjoyed power, fortune and authority far too much to give it all up. In short, his pride had grown too vast.
The world was changing and the industrial age was growing with so many technological advances in such a short period of time. He knew something was coming and he knew he wanted to be apart of it. Over the millennia he had accumulated a great deal of wealth and he used it to influence the rise and fall of empires, from Rome to America. He could not claim credit for the rise of the United States of America itself, and its rebellion against England, for if he had any power over it, things would have ended far less democratically. No he had his eyes on the bigger picture, banking...If the trail could be followed from the beginning of the first banking system to modern records, one would discover that Cypher Industries is, all be it a new company with ever expanding versatility in a seemingly endless variety of markets, to the point that it is impossible to determine exactly what its true purpose is...and underneath all the red tap, one would find that Cypher Industries is everything it seems to be, and so much more than it claims to be all at once. In truth, Cypher Industries is the front for a new world order on the verge of monopolizing and unifying World Banking under one brand and standard. The Cypher Lineage has its hand in every pot from banking to stock markets to even most governments. He is one of few multi-billionaires who claim diplomatic immunity without belonging to a single country. He is a sovereign entity, a nation onto himself and he enjoys total anonymity as well as complete support and recognition as being such, from the united nations.
Now, the man known as Louis Adamson Cypher, one of, if not the, wealthiest man in the world, is also the most unsatisfiable man in the world. He wants to manipulate the world into unraveling itself or inevitably succumbing to his indisputable leadership, perhaps several millennia still from seeing fruition, without even the slightest idea what he would do once this is accomplished. Perhaps he would simply sit back and watch the world burn itself to the ground for the sake of his amusement. Only one thing is certain in the eyes of Louis Cypher...he wants everything and he will stop at nothing until he it is his.
Sample RP-
Part 1: The Meeting
The Gentleman lifted a silver spoon from the tea cart at his side. He used it to scoop three small cubes of sugar from a bowl and slowly submerged them into his cup of tea. He stirred three times counter clockwise and then exactly three more clockwise. He then removed the spoon from the cup and placed it into his mouth to clean it of the remnants of its tea bath and allowed it to linger so that he may savor the sweetness from the excess sugar grains. After this was complete he tapped the spoon on the saucer which held his tea cup and using the same hand he held it with to hold the saucer as he brought his drink to his lips. He stopped just short of his mouth and breathed in the aroma before answering his guest.
”You have your talents Mr...?”
”My name's of no consequence...” The Mercenary interjected almost immediately to the Gentleman's leading pause.
”No matter...your talents have come highly recommended, so I have no qualms, speaking on behalf of the board, by committing to my previous declaration of money being no object. Mr. Cypher has over stepped his bounds as chairman, and The Group is unanimous in its desire to see him...excommunicated, for his indiscretions. You have been chosen to facilitate said exclusion, immediately. If you find this request within your ability to acquiesce, then you will be free to assert whatever form, or amount, you deem appropriate as payment for your services.” The Gentleman declared as he took a slow sip of his tea.
”One million USD will be transferred to the account I've provided, once proof of...exclusion, is made evident.” The Mercenary responded without a moment of hesitation.
”There will also need to be a more public exhibition of proof...to expedite The Group's own desired outcome.”
”I wouldn't have been referred to you had this not been the case...I have a very special display in mind for Mr. Cypher.” The Mercenary replied as he placed his hand on the medical bag in his lap. ”Only the best for a man of his prestige.”
”Good, then all is in order...I shall look forward to our next meeting...” The Gentleman stated as he turned his chair to look out the window. He was a gaunt, elderly gentleman of obvious American descent. His hair had grayed to the point of being nearly white, with slight streaks of ash at his temples. He wore a neat goatee, also with a similar contrast of gray to white. He was perhaps in his late sixties, and a man of obvious refinement.
The Mercenary knew he was being dismissed and stood from his seat on the opposite the Gentleman's desk. He was nearly six and a half feet tall, of a muscular build, made evident even through his expensively tailored three piece suite. His refined attire could not hide the purpose of his physical stature and the skillful fluidity in his movements. This man was no businessman, though he was undeniably a professional...likely former military, though that would have had to of been quite some time ago, as his profession has helped him develop his talents well beyond the training provided by whatever government he once served.
The Mercenary took his leave with some measure of haste in his steps...after all, he was on the clock.
-------------------------------------------------
PART 2: THE JOB
Camera 1: Activates as a car approaches from the distance turning onto the alley which would bring it to the 'main' entrance. The car stops at the check in point as the driver slides his ID through the key slot. The camera brings up a computer image of an elderly gentleman with long gray hair. His biographical stats run quickly through its circular display and a name appears at its center; Cain Adamson Cypher, CEO. The gate unlocks and the door rolls into the ceiling, allowing the car entrance.
Camera 2: Locates the car entering the building and tracks it to the CEO parking right next to the elevator. An elderly gentleman using a Cain exits the car and makes his way to the elevator door. He clears his throat then presses, and holds down, a button. "My Brother's Keeper..." He declared, speaking into the speaker box and a voice analysis bar appears horizontally in the display screen. A green light indicates security clearance had successfully been established and the elevator door opens. Cain steps into the elevator and the doors immediately close behind him.
Camera 3: He is seen standing in the direct center of the elevator, its walls light up immediately after the doors close to dimly illuminate the compartment. Once the elevator reaches its final destination Cain presses and holds yet another button, as he leans forward. A digital scan of his eyes appear in the camera as it runs off a check list of statistics. The name Cain Adamson Cypher appears across the display once again. Then a green light flashes in the elevator and the doors open as the floor indicator flashes PH, for Penthouse. Cain exits the elevator.
Camera 4: Cain walks to the only door on the floor at the end of a long hallway, favoring his right leg as his weight is placed squarely on his left side where he now held his cane. Once he reached the door he opened a panel over the door handle and pressed his thumb to a plate; the final security measure to reach his private suite of rooms. As he removes his thumb a red print is left behind and after a moment the plate is illuminated by a green light. The door lets out a serious of clicks and beeps, letting him know it was unlocked. He opens the door and steps into the penthouse as the camera goes black.
~Int. Cypher Consolidated, Penthouse Suite~
Cain walks slowly through the foyer placing his hat and coat on the coat rack as he passes it, there is a portrait of a man dressed in civil war regalia, the resemblance to him is enough to lead one to believe it was perhaps a relative of some sort, though more than half the elderly gentleman's apparent age. He relies heavily upon his cane at this point, the walk obviously taking its toll, as he made his way slowly to the first double doors to his left which opened and illuminated immediately upon his entrance, revealing a massive onyx desk at the far end. As soon as he passes the barrier of the double doors a plate glass window display appears as the wall transitions from opaque to complete translucency.
Cain reaches his desk, his computer rising from a compartment in the desk top and automatically starting itself as he rounded the corner, removing his full length coat and placing it on the rack behind his desk. He pulls the chair out from the desk, pausing for a moment to consider something on the floor; a scuff mark from one of the wheels.
He took a seat and pulled himself to his desk as he spoke the password prompted by his computer. His grip on his cane tightened ever so slightly as the index finger of his opposite hand hovered above the return key on the touchscreen keyboard built into his desk. His grip eased and he placed the cane on the side of his desk in a custom partition meant to hold it. His eyes moved to the far peripheral to his right and then back to the screen of his computer. In the screen the corners of his lips can be seen in black background of the prompt, as they curl into a grin...he finally pressed the return key and was not at all surprised when he saw the curtain, collected behind his desk on a mechanical track, reveal a bulge as its folds began to retract from his assailant's hiding place, closing at his altered command, for it was not his password that was being prompted, it was his preference controls for the room. He pushed the heavy wooden chair back with amazing strength and speed, catching his would be assassin off guard as the back collided with his abdomen, just below his ribcage, forcing the masked man to bend forward as the wind was pushed from of his lungs.
The masked man's grip became momentarily loose as they fell to either side of Cain's shoulders in perfect view as he took note of the long needle dripping with some sort of clear solution, in the Mercenary's right hand. Cain immediately lifted his right foot, the one he previously favored, kicking his cane from its perch at the side of his desk, into the air as he took hold of his assailant's hand holding the syringe. He then maneuvered himself to his feet, spinning to face the assassin, twisting his hand in the process forcing him to drop the syringe. With amazing speed, agility and presence of mind, the old man caught his cane and as he turned he drove the handle of it into his assailant's temple, now standing at his right side. The assassin stumbled two steps and righted himself, obviously caught off guard by his target's skill as well as his mobility. Cain backed away a few steps as well, as he spun the cane over in his hand so that the handle was now tucked behind his wrist, holding the stick more like he would a sword. In response, the assassin drew a large knife from his hip and pushed the chair back into the desk as he used the back as leverage to increase his momentum, and covered the few strides separating himself from his target.
Cain used the three foot reach he had on his opponent to his advantage, striking him on either side of his head before the man could even bring his blade to bare. His opponent disoriented by the quick and unbelievably powerful strikes, leaned back and swiped wildly with his blade, trying to keep his opponent at bay. Before he could gather his footing, Cain was once again upon him. He stepped into wide swing, catching the assassin's arm with his forearm, then immediately hooked that same arm around his opponent's and locked his cane under his elbow holding it in place with both hands. Then he leaned back and pulled up, straining the joints of his assailant's elbow, forcing him to drop his knife as a slight crack was heard.
The elderly gentleman released his hold after he felt the masked man's arm give to the pressure. Still holding the cane with booth hands, Cain lunged forward from his lean, driving the base of the cane into his opponent's chest and pushing him back. The masked man stumbled back holding his chest and attempting, feebly, to grasp his target's cane. Even under the padding of his tactical suit he felt the full brunt of his target's immense strength, his surprise evident, even beneath his mask as he looked upon the elderly gentleman...who no longer looked quite as elderly as he had been led to believe.
Cain met his gaze with a wink as he discarded his cane and in the same movement, kicked his opponent's knife across the room, back to the double doors. He held his hands in front of him and widened his stance, revealing his intent to fight the masked man hand to hand. The assassin lowered his body into a stance of his own, but not before adjusting his arm so that it was no longer dislocated at the elbow. He took a defensive posture and offered the old man the first initiation of the exchange, hoping to find some flaw in his target's technique. Cain was more than happy to oblige. He moved, again with impossible speed, for even a trained athlete more than 60 years his junior – supposedly Cain was in his 80s, though his assailant would attest to this being a potential inaccuracy...to say the least.
Cain closed the gap between him and his opponent before the masked man could even register any movement was made. Reacting out of pure instinct alone, the assassin lowered his stance, placing his forearms together to block the path of Cain's foot as he unleashed a shuffle side kick previously aimed for his chest. The kick nearly took him off his feet as he found himself back on his heels...did he actually leave the ground for a second there? He wasn't entirely sure as his mind was more focused on the pain in his forearms.
Immediately following the kick, Cain's right hand struck the side of the assassin's head in a back hand that sent him into a brief side ways stumble, stopped as the same hand reversed momentum and swung back in at his opponent, grabbing him by the neckline of his tactical vest. The next thing he knew he was slammed against the curtains behind the desk and plate glass beyond that, with such force that he was once again left disoriented. He began to see a pattern unfolding...the old man...or whatever he was...had him in a constant state of disorientation. Every attack was designed to keep his vision blurred and his perceptions localized. His target was not the helpless senior citizen he was lead to believe him to be...he was well trained and physically, his superior. He didn't have time to make sense of this, because he understood that he was not fighting to kill the elderly and ailing CEO of Cypher Consolidated. He was fighting for his life...and he was losing.
A spinning back kick to his chest and the Mercenary found himself momentarily leaving the ground and being driven into the curtains and thick glass once more. Lucky for him, this glass was thick enough to withstand even a solid strike from a wrecking ball, which was not as far a comparison as it would seem...he knew this because that is how Cain had the windows tested before he was satisfied with their installation. He received all of this information and more in the information the Gentleman had provided him before he accepted this assignment...if only they had been as thorough in their assessment of his target.
He felt a warmness streaming down his face, soaking his mask. His nose was broken and bleeding...likely from the backhand. He was in serious trouble if that were the case. He was in serious trouble regardless. The mercenary recovered quicker this time, his fight or flight response triggered and adrenaline coursing through his veins, providing more desperately needed focus and raw energy to his fighting prowess. He advanced on his target unleashing a combination of punches and kicks, using all of his speed all of his strength, all of his training. He was fighting wildly and if his target had been a lesser man, he would not have been able to withstand this barrage. Cain was obviously not a lesser man, he was something else entirely...He blocked each punch with a hand, forearm, elbow...each kick with a foot, shin and knee...he twisted from side to side ducking and dodging, blocking and pushing each attack out wide. He moved so fast, it almost seemed as if he hadn't moved at all.
Finally, The Mercenary sent a side kick, slowed by fatigue and frustration, into cradle of his target's under arm, to which the old man replied accordingly and locked his leg in place at the ankle and dropped his free hand into a hammer blow on the side of his knee. From the shriek of pain and crack of bone felt in his opponent's leg, he knew he shattered the Mercenary's knee. He then pulled his opponent closer by the hold he had on his ankle, so that the Mercenary's shattered knee was now locked into the cradle. and back handed him in the face with his free hand, then bringing his hand back as he did before to lock onto the neckline of his tactical vest once again. He kept his hold on his opponent's knee and used his grip on his vest to lift the Mercenary off the ground and swung him around with such force that upon release the Mercenary cleared the onyx desk and the ten feet to the center of his office, landing with such force to send him sliding the remaining ten feet to crash into the double doors.
Cain took his time as he walked the twenty paces to the doors of his office, no cane, no limp, not even a shuffle... giving the mercenary time to recover and struggle to his feet. Once he reached him, the Mercenary had drawn a hand gun from behind him, something Cain had taken note of in the split second before he threw him, and he fell back, unable to put any pressure on his shattered knee, leaning back against the doors for support as he unloaded 16 rounds in his target's direction. Each shot was aimed perfectly, The Mercenary truly was a professional after all. However for all his skill, for all his training, for all his advantages on this old man, he proved to be no match for Cain Adamson Cypher. Cain dodged shot after shot, from 20 paces...to 15 paces...to 10 paces...to point blank range even. Cain was moving with the speed of something supernatural...something inhuman...
Cain stood in front of the mercenary, head inches from the smoking barrel and one round left in the chamber. He smiled, The Mercenary frowned...the trigger was pulled...the gun released its final round...and its target was already moving before the bullet left the chamber, before the slide moved to eject the shell casing, before the recoil sent a tremor through the Mercenary's already shaking arm.
The bones in his hand holding the gun shattered as Cain's hand locked onto it. Index finger still in the trigger, Middle, Ring, Pinky, even his thumb locked to the grip. And though the bullet missed its target, Cain's head was back in the line of fire, with the barrel not more than an inch from his forehead. His free hand was holding the slide in place as the ejected shell fell to the carpet. The Mercenary stared into Cain's eyes, the eyes of a much younger, more vibrant man. He was struck dumbfounded and found it impossible to articulate enough thought to even breathe in response. Cain smirked as he removed the gun from his failed assassin's hand. Through a series of applied pressure and clicks he took the hand gun apart and dropped each piece to the floor, ending with the empty clip. There was no reason for this other than the display of his motor skills and technical understanding, just another example that his assailant had underestimated him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART 3: THE FINAL EXCHANGE
Reporter: “...Cain Adamson Cypher, CEO of Cypher Consolidated and one of the wealthiest men in the nation, was found dead this morning in the penthouse suite of Cypher Headquarters here in New York City. There has been speculation as to the connection of Mr. Cypher's death, and the death of his predecessors, to cult related murder. The circumstances of Cain Cypher's death have not been made public as of yet, but our sources within the NYPD have confirmed that he was displayed in the same ritualized manner as his predecessors...Cain Cypher's successor, a Mr. Louis Adamson Cypher, adopted son and heir to the Cypher family estate, is expected to be arriving in the states within a day or so, to assume responsibilities as CEO and heir apparent to Cypher Consolidated and all his father's holdings.
It may be of some interest to note that, for his entire life, Louis has remained anonymous from social as well as privatized media sources and his appearance here in the states will be his first on public record...”
The television set shuts off leaving a blank screen revealing the reflection of The Gentleman and The Mercenary further in the background. "Admirably well done Mr..."
The Mercenary didn't feed into this line, having no apparent interest in any such forms of banter, his expression void of any resemblance of emotion.
The Gentleman cleared his throat as he turned to consider the other board members of The Group. Not a one of them were comfortable with the Mercenary's presence. He was colder than before, less than casual and more than disconcerting, without so much as speaking a syllable beyond basic greetings. All he carried was a silver briefcase and he held it close to him every step to the chair he now sat in, with such strict posture.
”Of course I jest...there are no need for names.” He cleared his throat again as he sat back in his chair opposite the Mercenary. ”Did you bring the proof of death, myself and my associates were looking for. Not that we don't trust you, but Mr. Cypher certainly has the resources at his disposal to fake his death if required.”
The Mercenary did not answer, verbally. Instead he stood from the chair and walked over to a tall table directly behind him and away from the group, seated in chairs of their own lining the wall behind the Gentleman. ”Of course...” He he replied softly as he placed the case flat on the table with such force that the resounding thud echoed through the large room. ”Mr. Cypher was more of a challenge than I was originally lead to believe...and as such, the end came much slower than I had anticipated.” He continued as he clicked to open one side of the briefcase lock.
”There is not one iota of a potential renegotiation of payment mind you...you were paid a kings ransom for the task and the task is done as instructed. I will also remind you that we have more hired guns, bigger and better equipped than you, in this building ready to remove you at a moment's notice if deemed necessary, and I for one...”
”I assure you Mr. Maynard, I am not looking to renegotiate our contract...that is not how I operate...but you were wrong about one thing...My...Task as you phrased it...is not yet complete.” The Mercenary cut off the mildly obese board member before he could finish.
”Of course...the proof as was agreed upon.” The Gentleman interjected with a smirk before a puzzled look came over his face. ”I Thought...” he began, but took a long pause to consider how to word this properly before blurting out anything that could be misconstrued as less than cordial.
”Yes Mr. Darby...?”
The second click...
The Gentleman paused again and his quizzical expression became a bit more concerned. ”I thought you were not one to concern yourself with names...as it were, it seems this places us at somewhat of a disadvantage...”
”That you are, and for that I apologize. I was a bit short with you before on the subject and I have every intention of rendering that disadvantage moot, momentarily. You see, before we parted ways, so to speak, Mr Cypher did have a few final words to share with yourself and the rest of the board.”
This caused the room to fill with a few uneasy chuckles as the board members were obviously eager, despite their distaste for the Mercenary, to hear any gruesome detail of the brutal end their fallen tyrannical chairman met.
”As I said, he did put up one hell of a fight.” The Mercenary clenched his still bruised, but no longer broken hand into a fist behind the now open case, hovering above its contents.
----------------------------------
Flash back to his final moments with Cain Cypher
The pain in his hand suddenly became excruciatingly relevant to the Mercenary as he moved to clutch his shattered digits. He began to hunch over when Cain stepped in with a front kick, planting the sole of his foot, from pad to heel, down from just below his clavicle to his solar plexus. The mercenary forgot about his hand, if only for a moment, as he fell back, driven into the door behind him, gasping for air, which became exceedingly more difficult to obtain. Before he could even begin to recover, Cain was upon him striking his body from every angle imaginable and with such speed and vicious accuracy. Bones cracked, organs rupture, muscles tore...he was dying even before the final blow took him from this world; an upward cut palm strike hitting in just the right spot to send the cartilage of his already broken nose into his brain with such force that he barely felt anything...in one instant, he knew and saw only darkness.
-------------------------------------
”He imparted a single sentiment that he wished me to share with you this evening...” He continued, taking his eye off his clinched fist and looking to the Gentleman who he had named Mr. Darby. A smirk crossed his lips as he lowered his hand into the brief case. ”He wanted me to inform you...”
A third click...then it registered on the Gentleman's face...A THIRD CLICK?
Before he could ask what that was a silenced pop sounded as a bullet took the eye of the man to the Gentleman's right hand. Then another muffled pop and the man to the Gentleman's left took a shot into his mouth soiling the back of his chair in gore.
The Mercenary pushed the suitcase aside to reveal the hand gun Cain had previously taken apart. Firing shot after shot, the eight remaining board members fell...until there was only one...the man who thought of himself as, the Gentleman...such a clever moniker, he had previously congratulated himself for coming up with, actually hoping to have revealed it to The Mercenary at the end of their meeting...
The Gentleman was no longer looking forward to that end...he was fleeing it even as the second shot was fired. However his intended retreat was short lived, being rendered improbable somewhere between the 5th and the 9th shot fired, he wasn't sure as he had understandably lost count. The Gentleman, not a religious man per say, received a holy knee cap. His potential survival was altered from improbable to impossible a moment after the 11th shot, when he was struck just below the base of his spine. The injury left his legs immobile, however was not completely paralyzed...he knew this, since he felt every bit of pain shooting from his knee to his back.
Footsteps clicked against the marble floor as The Mercenary closed in on his prey. He walked around Mr. Darby's groaning form to stand directly in front of him, blocking his site from the alarm button located in the mantle of the fireplace. ”Mr. Cypher wanted me to inform you that your services will no longer be required here at Cypher Consolidated. You are hereby terminated...effective immediately.” He placed the barrel at the back of Mr. Darby's head and glanced over his shoulder at the alarm. ”In your next life...keep your alarms closer...”
A 15th click and pop...
There was a banging at the door...security. He shrugged. Maybe it was closer than he thought. He picked up Mr. Darby's cane...sure enough there was a flashing light in its head. He shrugged again as he dropped it to the ground and stood up. He looked from the door to the corpse at his feet. ”Ha...” He verbalized his mild amusement, his smirk still spread across his face, now spattered with Mr. Darby's blood.
A final click...a final pop...a final thud...just as the door opened.