Wrapped in bandages, Aster sat in front of a small desk. One could barely see it was him if not for their eyes not being covered as well. Ahead of him was a very well-dressed suited-up, red and orange-haired lady with red and orange eyes. She was very red and orange.She looked a lot like fire. Reflected through her bright red crimson eyes was evident the fact she was pissed.
Forcing a smile, she placed both hands together and spoke as politely as she could muster, "So... you mean to tell me you got your ass handed to you by some random ass assassin?"
"Yes, boss."
"Ugh." Giving up any pretenses of professionalism, she laid back, resting her legs on the desk, allowing her irritation to boil, soaking the room in her distaste. She looked to the side uncaringly.
"Bah, whatever. Just don't get battered again, against top ten or not, it's distasteful." Her eyes were dead.
With a flick of her wrists, she shot a small object flying at him with her fingers. Raising his hand, there was a loud impact as he caught it. It was a small slip of paper. "There's your check for the month. Go take a break."
"Thanks, boss."
"Mhm, no problem." Her disinterest rose as contemplation rose. Thinking was a strong suit of hers, as much as she didn't care for it. "Albert said you... I suppose, fancy this assassin lady?"
"Yes, boss."
"...you do?" Her boredom seemed to have been instantly cut through. As she looked up from her slouched position, into the eyes of her undying employee, surprise gleamed in her own.
"Hahhh!?" The red-haired lady immediately sat back up, her previous distaste vanishing, leaning in to look into his eyes. Her eyes widened with disbelief. "Seriously? Woah. Your taste in women is honestly incredible."
She couldn't help but grin upon hearing the news, "Oh well, I suppose it's a good thing you're able to be interested at all. As your employer and personal friend, I won't advise against it, since frankly-" She joked. "-I'm benevolent like that!"
"Thanks, boss!" He raised his voice enthusiastically to match, but his deadpan expression stayed the same.
"No problem!" She gave a big thumbs up before weakly falling over her chair. "Blegh."
Her fiery hair seemed a bit less fiery, going kinda limp as she laid there on the ground. Their eyes also appeared not as bright as before. It was odd, but not really that unusual, "Boss?"
"Asteeer... I might just retire."
"Huh? Why's that, boss?"
"I mean, I've already reached the peak of 'mercenaryship'." She said the word with heavy amusement and similarly heavy disdain, "And well frankly, I'm bored!" She sat right back up with a grin. "Like wow! If I'd known Ms. Destroyer was after you, I mighta got a haircut, dyed my hair, and pretended to be you! I mean sheesh, judging from how they fucked you up..." She stood up and unbandaged a portion of his face, poking their finger through the tear left in his cheek. Eyes filled with a hyperfixation on the grotesque injury. "They must have been strong. Hmmm." Walking around him and analyzing their injuries, she couldn't help but morph her lips into a smile, "No losing next time though, or I'll kill you."
She was back to smiling like usual, her presence flooding the room with intense, fiery hot passion, before falling right back down. "Blegh, I guess retirements a no-go. Nothing else to do." Her hair went limp.
"What about we do odd jobs?"
"We're mercenaries, we already do odd jobs."
"We could rebrand to doing more."
"Bah, that's pointless. What's up with the lame suggestions?"
"I've been thinking about killing less people recently."
She stared at him, her eyes resembling lava. Burning through all that met with her gaze, she shrugged, "Sure, do it then. But you'll be in charge of that. I'm gonna take a nap. Here, go play games on my computer or something. I don't care."
She laid on the floor as her eyes glazed over, dull from a lack of enthusiasm, and she closed them, slowly slumbering into sleep.
Looking at her expressionlessly, he waited a second before he sat in her seat and began typing away.
------
The assassin walked out of the wreckage of what used to be a building. Readjusting her tie, she did not seem all too ruffled up, despite the fact that she had most of a skyscraper collapse on her.
Having retrieved the outer jacket of her suit, her appearance was basically as it was before the battle. The only difference really being that her clothes were a bit dirty, with the only blood being on the bottom of her shoes, garnered from stepping in the blood of the mercenary.
Stretching out her arms, the lady impassively took in a little slow breath and exhaled.
What a pain.
She closed and opened her right hand, then bent it and straightened it to gauge its capacity. She felt the damage he'd managed to deal with his arm lock, and it was definitely hurting, if nothing else.
She looked at it for a second.
Coolly, she buttoned and straightened up her jacket. The moon hung above her, illuminating her beauty as it mocked her with its light.
Her cold eyes peered through the dark. Two dots were looking out at her.
"Hey Mel."
Her expression did not shift.
"You failed." White eyes met hers directly.
"I did."
"Hmmm. What should I tell everyone..." The voice was distorted, unknowable; it was like it wore all the anonymity the world had by its lonesome.
"I failed."
"..." The voice seemed stunned for a second. "... I know... but as your handler. I can't just tell them you let some random Joe Schmoe beat you up and run away."
The woman knew that they did not really think that she'd been beaten up. They always exaggerated her events. It first confused her, but now she paid them no mind.
"Why should it matter? It changes nothing."
The two eyes in the shadow rolled irritably, "You lack decorum."
"You lack grace."
The voice laughed, echoing the destruction. "As if I'd need that, you've left fucking ruins in your wake, and you're lecturing me about grace?"
"I am." Her eyes remained unflinching.
"How... distasteful." The disembodied-looking pair of eyes narrowed disgustedly.
She did not offer a response. Met with silence, the voice spoke once more, "You're done for now. Go take a break."
The eyes closed, and like that, all indication of that person's presence was gone.
______
A week later.
Aster sat in a little cafe. Doing... what was he doing? He had no clue. Sitting in front of him was an adolescent boy, grinning at him. Black hair, brown eyes, the kid looked pretty normal, but emanated the sorta presence a kid should not have. They were a constant source of a plethora of problems, and was also the source of the mission in which he fought the assassin lady. They needed to rescue his sister, and apparently Aster'd been the first person he thought of.
"Were you trying to get me killed or something?" Aster took a sip of black coffee, "And why'd you order me this?"
"Whatdya mean? Also, I thought you liked black coffee?"
"That was absolutely not a mission meant for someone to survive alone. And when'd you get the idea I liked black coffee?" Aster lowered his eyebrows a little as he took a longer sip.
"Well... I dunno, you just seemed like a tough guy who drinks black coffee in front of people."
"You really think that of me?"
"I mean, why not? You're a scary fella."
"You certainly don't act like I am. Also, when at a cafe, you gotta let other people order, it's polite. That's my tip as an adult." Aster took another sip before stopping, "You shouldn't be needing to take tips from me, too."
"Come on, you know... you're also basically a hero to me, ya know, I am a kid, right?" The boy said it playfully, seeming all too amused.
"You're a creepy kid too." Downing the cup, the mercenary set it down and took a breath, "But you're right. You are a kid in the end, huh? Don't forget to be one, I guess."
"Of course, I'm no fool."
"Coulda fooled me." Aster stared into his empty cup.
"Is that how you should be treating a child?"
"What else should I treat you like? My employer?"
"Well, I did commission you."
"It was like twenty bucks, never thought I'd be giving child discounts for hostage situations."
"I paid you like five thousand dollars what do you mean?"
"That barely covered the costs of the bombs I used."
"You used bombs?"
"It's really not important. Then the last five hundred I gave to the intern."
"You want more money then?"
"No, I just want to complain." The mercenary got up, walked over to the counter and ordered another drink before sitting back down again.
"Were you being serious?" The kid eyed the undying man's drink, which was this thing, concocted to be this thick slurry of some ice, pure sugar and a bit of flavored dairy, the source of which seemed ambiguous to the boy.
"Of course I was being serious. Who wants to take money from a twelve-year-old?"
"I'm fourteen."
"And I'm immortal, so?... ugh, I'm never saying that again." The mercenary yawned, "You're still a brat."
"You're rude."
"I'm old, I get to bully children." The mercenary said stone-faced without an ounce of seriousness.
The kid scoffed, the mercenary was still in his twenties, "Yeah, shut up, old man."
"Hey, don't disrespect the elderly. Especially when you're hiring them." The immortal downed his drink in one go.
"...Do you... have taste?"
"... You mocking me?"
"A little-actually, no, I mean, how could you even enjoy drinking that?"
"It's sweet?"
"That was... probably the most disgusting thing I've ever seen."
"It was delicious."
"That's some.bullsh-...it." The kid paused, from the slight worry about swearing in front of his big brother, but still finished speaking. To his fortunate surprise, the man didn't acknowledge it roughly.
"Nah it was good." The mercenary began gobbling the ice cubes.
"And you finished it so fast..." It was like two gulps or less maybe?
"I much better enjoy things without thinking too much on how to enjoy it."
"It's better to save it."
"Everyone had their own ideas." Aster shrugged. "How's your sister?"
"Still alive."
"Is she alright?"
"Same as ever."
"Ya know, just because she seems fine doesn't mean it right?"
The boy showed the first signs of irritation. "Yes- I know."
"Alright alright~ what're they up to right now?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe scouting for talent."
"Is it in your families genes to make mad geniuses or something?" The word villain crossed his mind, but he didn't think it was quite accurate.
"I dunno, I think you're weirder."
"Nah, anyone can develop into something like me if they just don't die early." The man took a miniscule sip of all the melted ice, before chewing down a couple pieces.
"I don't believe you."
"I'm bein honest."
"Have you ever met anyone else like you?"
"There was this one guy. He was pretty tough." The immortal finished the ice in his cup. "Can't remember his name, but we fought and it was the most draining fight of my life."
"Did you win?"
"Yeah." The kid couldn't read their eyes, every time the big man spoke of his past battles, his eyes would be shrouded in a blanket of neutrality.
"...so I could end up like that?"
"Sure, but don't. Just work out or something. You're smart, I doubt you'll need such a hardheaded approach to becoming a good fighter- also... I guess I can't tell you to not get into fights, but don't get into too many. It's just not good."
"... think I'll ever be as tall as you?"
"No." The mercenary started digging around his pockets before pulling out a flashlight. "Here's my birthday gift to you."
"But it's not my birthday?"
"I know. I was actually thinking about giving you a knife, but I thought you'd probably end up killing a bunch of people. So here ya go."
"What am I supposed to do with a flashlight?"
"I dunno, blind people? It's a flashlight. You can hit people with it. Also, there's a knife if you unscrew it in the middle."
"I thought you said you didn't wanna give me a knife?"
"I don't want to give you a knife; I should be giving you a gun instead, but no matter what I do, it seems irresponsible."
"I worry." The immortal
"...thanks." The boy held the flashlight with sparkles in his eyes, cherishing the gift from his idol.
The man of sanguine stared at the boy of terror.
------