Why should it not be me?

She wasn't entirely sure what the point of this stupid game was. Throwing balls into a basket without a bottom seemed utterly pointless to her but she had her eyes on a rather large stuffed pig, something she wanted to win for her husband as an 'I'm sorry for letting Malivore swallow me without letting you have a say' apology of sorts but she was failing miserable. A defeated sigh eased from her lips as she allowed a pout to pull across her lips, she could just steal it, wouldn't be the first or last time that she ever did that but there was something about actually putting the work in for it that made it seem more- heartfelt. "These games are ridiculous," Raquel huffed. "And outrageously overpriced at that."

So, walking into this carnival was bittersweet. The bright colors and laughter of those enjoying the event put a smile on Liliana's face. She would do her best to enjoy this event. Maybe she could make some new memories here. It was worth a try at least.

As she waited in line for some cotton candy, she couldn't help but share her excitement for the sugary concoction with the people around her. "I feel like a kid again," she said with a laugh. She didn't expect anyone to respond, but having someone to experience the carnival with would be a nice change of pace.

Eating anything she wanted was first on the list, so into the line for cotton candy she went. She hadn't had any of that since she was a child and her brother let her have some after sneaking into a carnival without her dad's knowing, but why not?

Why not?: that would be the theme of tonight for her. New Orleans could do without their head of the division for one teeny, tiny night. So when the pretty girl in front of her spoke, well, why not? "Me too!" She exclaimed, "which is funny because she's dead. But, you know what, maybe she's not! I never eat junk food anymore either, so I'm not sure I remember what this even tastes like." She paused as though realizing something before asking, "oh, were you talking to me?"

"alright, i'll give it do you." she admitted, trying her best to hold in a laugh as she looked down her shoes. "you were right, these were not the shoes for a carnival but you have to admit i look damn good in them." she lifted her calf as she showed off just how good she looked to the other. "sacrifices need to be made in the name of fashion sometimes, laine."

"If you want loyalty, you should probably treat your personnel better." He shrugged before adding more to those animal analogies. "You put a goldfish in a fishbowl. It isn't gonna do well. Put a goldfish in an aquarium? It's gonna thrive." God, was Bejo right about the whole Ace Ventura-Dr. Dolittle thing that TJ had going on? The zookeeper life wouldn't be for TJ though; he didn't enjoy animals locked in cages like the OEA did.

The one thing TJ could do would be endlessly annoying, that's what worked for him. Talking nonsense. Pointing yourself as the not-threat worked wonders when you tried to become the threat.

"I saw the guy twice. I don't know him well enough to know when he's on his damn period." TJ did know a tidbit of info, though. "Oh yeah, apparently he has a moon-related disorder in his medical file?" If that information screwed over Bejo, then great. He could use it to kill two birds with one stone.

"But, you know someone else is gonna be real cranky if I don't bring you to them...so. You want to do it the easy way?" He said as he pulled out some handcuffs from his pocket. He would always have the cop mentally first. "Or the hard way?" TJ didn't want to fight Laine, but he didn't have a choice.

Tilting her head, she looked at him. "If you've only seen him twice, why are you complaining to me? Sounds manageable. I'd focus on improving your loyalties instead of bitching, but that's just me...from the boss's chair." She nodded, well, that was interesting. "Ah, I've heard of those disorders. We'll get him taken care of."

Her eyes narrowed as he suggested someone needed to see her, "who?" The sight of the handcuffs was so ridiculous, Laine was forced to laugh. Not a chance in hell was he getting those on her. "I'm gonna ask you once nicely to put those down and answer my question. If I have to ask again, I'll be tasking someone with cancelling all your plans."

Taking a deep breath, she slowly placed Laine's hands back to her sides before taking a step back. Tears welled in her eyes, but they didn't dare spill, not yet. "That organization that you don't think you are trapped in, they want me dead and I guess I was really silly to think that saying i'm something you've been taught to hate and that would make you see that they are full of shit, but this isn't some fairytale...." She trailed off her eyes shutting as the tears fell down her cheeks. "I didn't choose to be a banshee, to see my mothers death for months before it happened every time I closed my eyes. I was so little and I desperately tried to keep her alive, but I couldn't make her stay that night. No matter how hard I pleaded, she said it would be okay...that she would just be back."

Wiping her face, Theo took a deep sorrowful breathe. "I want to stand by you, but you don't want to stand by me. All because I am a banshee and maybe it's best you kill me...I mean what use am I? I should've died that night at the gala."

If only that was enough to heal the ache in her chest as Theo let go of her and stepped back, but it wasn't. That hurt. "No, Theo, it's not a fairytale," she snapped, "because those don't exist. It isn't about me or you. What's the alternative? If we don't kill the monsters, what? Tell me. How about your fairytale analogy? When the prince defeats the evil witch or stepmother or dragon, people cheer. When I do it, I'm the evil." The word banshee hit her like a truck. Bringing her words to a complete stop for a moment, she remembered what the other one had done to her. How she'd done it so easily. "I'm sorry about your mom, I really am, and I will see what I can do, but you know you're in the minority. Most on your side are monsters, they do kill. They may not choose it, but they are a danger. Someone has to do something."

She was silent for a long moment at the accusation, before finally murmuring, "I would never kill you."

He was capable enough to decipher that this wasn’t a social invitation and drawing such from his sister would be like squeezing blood from a stone, but he would accept whatever handout was given. In a similar theme, he'd come to learn not to ask questions that he didn't want the answer to – so he didn’t. He’d rather not know whether Laine had a hand in that untimely demise. Despite having just relaxed into the couch, her general demeanour indicated that he shouldn't get comfortable and he soon sat himself forwards, narrowing his gaze towards his sister. “Favors before the poison? shit – where’s this going exactly?”

She knew this was likely to be an ordeal, another fight even, but she needed to have it with him. "The poison is to wash it all down," she quipped before reaching for his hands, as though she were capable of genuine affection. "I told you once I'd have never left you," she began, "and I meant it. I have the highest position in New Orleans, and I don't want to leave you behind. Help me, Dex. It'll be public soon, but two humans went missing. Except they aren't missing. It's not like the hunters, these people did nothing wrong. We can debate who deserves death and who doesn't every day, and you can just take out the bad guys. That's fine. Come back to me, forget that it's called the OEA, just come back for me. The humans cannot defend themselves, they need our help." Raising a finger, she added, "don't say anything, think about it for a second. I'll grab you a beer while you mull it over."

"The OEA's wants to get rid of people for things beyond their control and sure that works for a little bit of time, but now is the whole other part. You and me, we don't have to play into their games when the power they seek isn't going to make our lives any easier in the end anyways...we deserve to be alive in this world, you deserve to be happy." Bringing Laine's hands to her lips, Theo let out a soft sigh.

Her hand in the other's, she didn't pull away, not even when Theo placed a soft kiss to her fingers. She ached, something deep inside ached in a way she knew would linger when Theo inevitably walked away. "I'm not trapped," she admitted, though quieter than she'd have liked. "I will lead this one day, the control will be mine. I don't take pleasure in the creatures who maybe haven't killed being caught up in this, but I have everything it takes to change the hierarchy of the world. You're right, it shouldn't be a game, but it should be a goal. Do you really want to stand by me when the power is mine?"

The problem was, getting Laine alone these days seemed almost impossible.

Maybe it was the shuffle going on within the OEA. TJ didn't know the exact details, but he hadn't seen Alexander, so it was easy to suspect something had gone down, but he had another reason why he needed to speak to Laine beyond the agendas others set him. If he started there, maybe he could make something out of it.

That's why he was here, confronting her in her own damn office, as it was most convenient. He was pretty sure she had needed to speak to him anyway, so it worked out.

"You know, you could have at least given me the heads up about that asshole of a partner you were sending my way." That asshole being Bejo, another apparent OEA delinquent. "I actually thought you were pairing me with my dog. Weird how they share the same name, isn't it?" That was TJ's everlasting curse, weirdness, weirdness that he always brought directly to Laine. "The guy is always growling like one, so maybe I should give him a stick to fetch." He said with a shrug. "But I'm not doing it. Not that guy. Give him to someone else." Shaking his head. "I told you, Laine, I'm not your fucking monkey, hell, apparently I even gave you an actual monkey to make my point clear."

@lawfvlhunter

He was complaining about something, she hummed a lack of acknowledgement. "You don't like your assignment?" She asked, gathering enough to at least sum that up. "When you don't want to be here, you get put at the bottom. Slim pickings for partners down there. Since you like your animal analogies, my monkeys live like sharks, and my non-monkeys live like krill."

The mention of the growling caught her interest, knowing this partnership would prove useful. TJ never did know when to shut up. "Do you find him particularly cranky at any time in the month?"

Delainey's narrow minded explanation had been expected, after all it was polished falsities spun by the OEA and over the years Asher had recited the same bullshit himself, listened to Aliyah speak it too. “There aren't any innocents left anymore, Laine. Everybody's guilty of something" the OEA were sinking their teeth into more and more of humanity and the ethical side of things was becoming less and less. "They aren’t all unchecked monsters – not like you believe. Not like the OEA tries to force down everyone’s throats. Most of them are just – normal fucking people, who don’t deserve any of this.” As another drink was presented, he understood exactly where this was going, having adopted the same tactic that he had used on her all those months ago. He reached for the glass, inhaling a sharp breath before downing the shot. “An understanding?” he scoffed, uncertain as to whether she was just trying to throw him off the scent. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Delainey and her trophies had been something of legend among the OEA, yet another thing about his colleagues that had sickened him. The idea of retaining a keepsake from a kill, a little too psychopathic for Asher’s tastes. He swallowed forcefully as he realised that the book was a sketchbook and it was increasingly clear that it belonged to Billie. His gaze shifted, lifting now to find Delainey's as his expression hardened “no – that isn’t possible. My dad sai–” but even Asher didn’t buy that bullshit. Fresh tension surged through his frame again as Laine presented the images on the table, proof of the experiments success and them some; and his blood ran cold. “You’re insane. She isn’t a weapon, Laine. No, no fucking way.” Although, Asher knew as well as Laine did, that there would be no refusing her demands. His heart clenched in his chest and for the first time in the duration of their conversation, he felt that all too familiar sensation of anxiety returning. “You know as well as I do that won't ever happen. Even for you, that's a suicide mission, so don’t do this. I’ll get you another -- alright, i'll get another banshee. Not her.”

She didn't expect to convince him of her views, and it was a waste of breath to try. He'd do what she wanted regardless. "Go to a school, Asher, a playground. We get dirty, so they can be innocent." Her eyes rolled as he mentioned normal people, once again presenting her with unrealistic ideals. "Collateral damage is required because those normal fuckin' people are going to stand between us when we come for their monsters. Because those normal fuckin' people love them. Name one person on your new 'side' who's going to let me wipe the world clean of the Original Vampires. Let's say I took the worst of the worst only: those ancient beings who have created more destruction than any other creature or weapon on this earth. They want forgiveness? Redemption? If they don't deserve to die, who does? We cannot make judgments. The humans should die, so that thousand year old monsters can live? That's the message they gave loud and clear at the gala, Asher. Mankind is saying no more. New Orleans will be the example." He would think it was the same tactic he had used and drink, but her methods were always more efficient. He would be finding that out very soon. "Oh, you'll see it. Trust me. The OEA is not going to get fucked again."

She liked her reminders, her growing proof that she could not be beaten. The only ones that bothered her now were the returned kills because those had been undone, no longer kills. They dirtied her shelves. "Your dad is missing the bigger picture," she argued, hand still on the one trophy she still considered one despite the breath now back in the banshee's lungs. This was proof she'd done it. "Oh, but she is. She's the perfect weapon. Banshees aren't killers in the way vampires and werewolves are, and their benefits to humanity may actually make them useful alive. I need her to prove that. Imagine the gala if we could protect our ears and just let her loose. We could level armies in seconds." Shaking her head as though disappointed in his lack of vision, she snapped at his next comment, "you said it yourself: they all died. She's the only one I have. She is the success. It isn't suicide for you. You can offer him a guarantee she doesn't die, tell him the OEA is going to offer her complete immunity in exchange for her help. Once we figure her out, then we can replicate to other banshees in hopefully a way that doesn't kill them. It was the breaking process that caused the most damage. If you don't do this, if you don't tell them my offer, and she dies, you can then tell him it was your fault. Make a choice, Simmons."

Asher watched intently as the drinks were placed between them and despite her display, he still couldn't be certain that his didn't contain a nasty surprise, but that was a risk he had to take. The shift in focus of conversation caused for Asher to shrug, “if I survive the conversation, i’ll be sure to pass on your congratulations.” He returned to silence as Delainey spoke, the cogs in his own mind turning over as he fought to anticipate whatever angle she was coming at him with. He did pause to shot the content of his own drink, his eyes never leaving her as if to say that he wasn't scared of her, before setting the empty glass back onto the counter.

His eyes watched her carefully, although he was discreet to ensure that her guards remained within his attention too – just in case. “You got what you wanted – you have New Orleans, so now what? What do you intend to do with it?” Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than what his father had done; although a part of him feared that perhaps it could. There was one complication that he did find himself intrigued about and he couldn’t help but state “and what about you and Everleigh? I know that she’s back. I can’t imagine that there’s much trust left between you two after the stunt she pulled.” He was grasping at straws again – planting those pesky little seeds of doubt, “she’s already reached out to me, did she tell you that?” His momentary reprieve didn’t last long and as Delainey redirected the subject to the experiments, he could feel tension threatening to surge through his frame. Shifting as she placed the book between them and he could feel his throat becoming tighter as he cleared it. “I wasn’t – on those experiments" his stomach twisted. “All I know is that most of them died" he hesitated before continuing "– and one escaped. Never found the body but the department were satisfied that she had died too.” He felt like he was betraying Briggs by even speaking about this, "they closed it as a failed experiment. Why?"

She watched him, though her gaze nothing away. He would be wise to doubt the intentions of anything set in front of him, but he also would know he'd have to take it. His act as important as her own, each moving a chess piece across the board. She gave no strategy away, her moves seemingly uncoordinated, so he'd never know what was coming.

"You'll see," she mused, motioning for another round. "This conversation is strictly need-to-know, since after all, you're not part of the OEA anymore." She wasn't delusional to think she could talk him back in, but that didn't mean he wouldn't prove useful. "Everleigh and I have spoken, and she knows how I feel about the stunt. We have an understanding." As much as she loved her sister(in-law), they didn't see eye-to-eye on everything, but she had given Laine some things to consider. "Asking you to return? Promise you a seat?" Her fingers tapped along the cover as she listened to him describe everything as their new drinks were set down before them. "Oh, I know she died. It's why I kept this," she revealed, opening it to one of the pages depicting what Laine believed to be Asher's tricky little friend. "I know who she is too. But what if I told you the experiments didn't fail?" From her bag, she pulled out some pictures and handed them over. "I tested her the other night, and she works beautifully. Which is good news for you because it means should I have intent to kill you, I would have to move very quickly. I want my banshee back, and you're going to convince her husband to let me have her. They'd do anything for you, wouldn't they? To save your life?"

There was a humourless chuckle that eased from his lips, head nodding as his digits ran against his facial hair, “I can do better” he assured, not buying into whatever falsities Laine was selling. His features remained unmoving, but as she spoke of such, he found himself questioning whether she was capable of loving anything. Laine was dangerous and now with her gracing the ranks of the OEA, she was far more lethal than any other before her. New Orleans hadn’t seen anything yet. “I’m aware” he nodded, voice level as he spoke, “i’ve spent my entire life living with monsters. I was raised by one. Raised to be one.” His jaw tightened, before forcing himself to relax “humanity implies that there’s emotion here, you’re good at pretending Laine – but you’re not that good." Shrugging off her comment, he countered "I was a kid – I saw whatever my father wanted me to see. The only monster I ran from was him.”

A sharp breath urged from his lips, internally scorning himself responding to her quip as he forced his composure. “You know us Simmons, I guess we always have been suckers for pretty blue eyes.” He watched as she carefully orchestrated the bodies in the room, the way that their eyes tracked her every movement – they were scared of her – there was no real loyalty there.  Releasing a steady breath, his actions were calculated as he returned his gaze to Laine once again. “Whatever, just make it strong.” His shoulders rolled given her statement, tongue running against his lower lip to restore some of the moisture as he quipped, “well, I hate to disappoint, but I didn’t come to beg” except, he hadn’t expected for her next words to have followed. “I wasn’t doing it for you” his interlocked digits clenched as he leaned himself forwards, his voice lowering, “tell me where he is and the positions yours. I don’t care what you do with it, i’m not interested in you. Only him.”  Sitting himself back again, something between a scoff and humourless chuckle urged from his lips “all this power’s gone to your head, Laine. Careful, it isn’t always easy at the top – the view isn’t always better. Just ask Alexander.” Unlinking his fingers, he sat back further in his seat, sinking down in it a little, appearing very casual given their interaction, “if you wanted me dead, i’d be dead – which makes me think you’re about to offer me something that you think I can’t refuse. I already told you though, tell me where my father is and that positions yours. You can do whatever you want after that, I don’t care.”

She believed in her cause, and maybe that was the most dangerous thing to be: a believer. Laine followed a particular set of rules, but they were her rules, governed by her own sense of right and wrong. Some people had to die so that others may live, and war was an ugly time for all. "Wow, that's very dramatic, I should have given you a stage," she retorted dryly, "I'll make a note of those daddy issues in your file, put it under the first to ever think their parent was a monster. He pushed you, gave you skill and a reason for being. Shame, shame, shame on him." Her lips curved in a self-satisfied grin, "maybe if you were less dictated by emotion, we wouldn't be sitting here. I won't apologize for the way I get things done."

Her men knew what to do, and so far, they'd done a decent job of following orders. At least the ones left after a bit of cleansing. "Oh, yes, I know you all well." Which was part of the problem here, a small hiccup in her preferred choice to just kill him: Aliyah. The drinks set before them, she took her shot and tossed it back to allow him the comfort to do the same. If she was going to kill him, he should know poison would not be her method of choice. "I heard he got married," she mused. If little banshee bitch didn't think she'd catch wind of the change of her name, well, she'd forgotten too much. "How about this? We see what we can do with you, and should the need arise to open a position, you'll be first in line for a shot. My focus now is needed in New Orleans." The power had gone to her head, but not in an uncontrolled way, she was simply living the life she had earned. "I am enjoying my view, actually, thank you for your concern. Don't compare my successes to a man's failures, I won't fall." She waited a few beats, grabbing another shot, "I'm not the Godfather, Asher. The only person who can actually help you resolve your daddy issues is me, unless you want to take out another decoy, but what I need from you is to care. No offers. I might still kill you, but first, I want to chat." Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a book and set it between them. "What do you know about our banshee experiment a couple years ago?"

“Don’t worry, the dramatic irony wasn’t lost on me” Asher quipped and he felt surprisingly calm, despite. Although it was easy enough for that calmness to be confused with acceptance. There was limited outcomes for this interaction, none of which worked in his favor but he was ready to accept those consequences now. Asher was practically forced into his seat and he shrugged off the touch of Laine’s minions, before straightening out his jacket.

Anticipating her words before they were even spoken, his jaw tightened and he momentarily glanced towards his palms as though he could see the blood that stained them. “I thought we were in the business of doing the necessary evil” he muttered, meeting her gaze once again before inhaling a sharp breath, “I remember there being drinks last time. This rounds on you, isn’t it?” The mention of his father caused for his chest to tighten and Asher offered a half nod of his head, “yeah – a fuck up on my part. I was hoping to have finished the job by now.” Sitting back in his seat, he interlocked his digits, resting them atop of the table – sensing that this was going to become an interrogation of sorts. “So – what are you waiting for, Laine? Do you want me to beg, because I won’t. I won’t apologise, either. The only thing I'm sorry for his not finishing the job."

"Thought you'd be most comfortable where you do your best lying," she retorted, keeping a feigned tone of camaraderie and civility. "I love necessary evil, there isn't the appreciation for it these days that there used to be. Monsters exist, Asher, you can't say they don't. What was humanity really supposed to do? Keep pretending we don't see it? Run as fast as we can from the doorway to the bed so the monster underneath can't get us? No, you used to see it: our mission. One blonde boy with pretty blue eyes looks your way and suddenly you're the ambassador--the protector--to all monsterkind."

He was right, this was an interrogation. A smirk graced her lips at his sass. "I do owe you a round, the least I could do, for old times' sake." With another motion to her men, she instructed, "grab us a couple drinks. He can have whatever he wants." That ought to loosen his lips even further. She sighed, almost amused by his bluntness and hatred of his father. "Begging is exactly what I was hoping you'd do, but that does get old. I've heard quite a bit of it since taking this position. You getting people killed has worked out for me, so maybe I should set you loose on your father, I could use another promotion." She was quite enjoying this, more than she thought she would even. "What's your life worth to you, Asher Simmons? You know the sentence for betrayal. Why shouldn't I give it to you? You've also just threatened one of our higher-ups, a death sentence on its own, so you must think you're useful to me somehow? Or you're just stupid...and I've never known you to be stupid."

Asher had lied, manipulated and cheated his way out of the OEA; having committed murder, attempted patricide, betrayed his twin and framed countless members of the division. Hunters, who had since been slaughtered for their betrayal. The gala had been the final straw, but prior to that, he had already he had known that he wasn’t trusted amongst them, so if he couldn’t get out then – when could he?

It seemed only fitting now, that Asher had been instructed to meet Laine in the bar of the old hotel -- the very place where his diabolical plan had first come together. They'd come full circle, except Asher had well and truly come undone and Laine, well -- she'd had a promotion.

He had been anticipating this for a while and the fact that he wasn’t already dead meant that the OEA wanted him alive – or perhaps his father did. As valuable as Aliyah was to them, he didn't believe that she had any sway over whether he lived or died. Laine's presence demanded the attention of an entire room when she walked into it, but any warmth to it soon left too.

Being manhandled inside, he struggled as he was forcefully shown to the very same table and instructed to lay down his weapons. Unholstering the gun that hung around his waist, he obediently placed it down on the table, before holding his hands up and stating "this is everything I have on me."

Oh, but Laine? She had everything it took, and despite Eve's proposition, when the opportunity arose, Laine snatched what she wanted. She had bled for this organization, killed parts of herself to thrive, and not everyone could say that.This was in her blood, all she had existed to be, and she would not be giving that up easily.

"I thought you'd appreciate the atmosphere," she greeted upon her approach, tapping near her eyes as if to note that she knew he recognized it, "you remember, don't you? That this is where we sat." With a wave of her hand, the subordinates gave them some space as she took her seat. "You know I don't like to be lied to, Asher, I've made that clear. I'm afraid, however, you were on the right track with our former head of NOLA. He has been let go. Which is good, for you. Attempting to kill your father? Not so good. Now the responsibility of deciding what to do with you has fallen to...me."