3rd person POV
" Mrs. Enrique I don't think it needs to be said but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to advance genetic research. You can provide for even more children if a few were only researched. You and the orphanage itself will be set for life pay wise." A relatively stocky Japanese man in a black and blue suit told Isabelle.
"Research? What sort? Elaborate on the offer again, and if this breaks my peace...." Isabelle let her words hang as a feeling of pressure pressed the man's body as she finished, " I. Break. You."
The Bloody Butterfly, known only by her past associates as Bella, a notorious villain who was most prominent in New York and later faded to obscurity. She had a casualty count in the hundreds and dozens of heroes failed to catch or stop her.
Her quirk had made rounds for its lethality as anyone touched twice in the same spot by her would die moments later.
Research after the incident she first debuted concluded a deadly neurotoxin injected directly into the bloodstream was the cause of death. Most couldn't keep up with her because of a secondary quirk that let her unfurl massive monarch wings. A gift from a former employer, also the only reason he was informed of the peril he was dealing with...
'She would've been a perfect assassin if the master hadn't angered her into hiding and retiring. But...' The messenger could still feel the mounting pressure from the woman in front of him hadn't decreased but kept rising as he collected his thoughts on how to deceive someone who could kill him before he blinked.
"We will be researching the growth of quirks in different environments. Simply furthering their understanding to find better ways to understand how to keep quirk growth mutations under control. Just participating without results will still get you and these poor things paid. " His voice was fluid and concise as if he knew what he was talking about, which he did. The only thing that left his mouth were fluffed-up half-truths, nothing concise but a vague picture could be formed in the mind.
She pondered closing her eyes and thinking for a moment, showing her aloofness and security in her safety
That was all he needed for his quirk to fluctuate his scent into the air.
He was never a combative type, his quirk was made for small subtle changes to his charisma in his targets eyes. They say that scent is what centers us most in our memories. A smell of a comfortable childhood home, the scent and pheromones will illicit a vivid image.
He was recreating a trust worthy concoction of pheromone compounds, compressing them to be imperceptible to the naked eye. These would make himself seem much more trustworthy in the eyes of others.
The quirk of a con man.
The woman snapped from her pondering and looked at said con man again, skewering him with her deep orange eyes. All the man could say to himself was a repeat mantra of, 'Dont fold, don't fold, please don't fold...' to try and keep his meager composure.
All the matron, former mass murderer, did was bring her hands together and speak quietly. A whisper like mistress death would give before she planted a fatal kiss on you.
"Who sent you? And know that I won't stand for lies."
The mans mantra collapsed on itself, as his head was racing thinking of his choices. 'lie and die now, or say his name and die in the next few days if I'm lucky.'
One would be swift and painful, the other would be drawn out torture to be made an example of. He made up his mind, he'd rather die a human than the monstrosities his boss had turned some of his coworkers into.
Luckily or unluckily he still had faith in his skills as a con man.
"... Live corp, ma'am biological divis-..."
*Thwip*
A quick tap of human contact was heard, an elegant yet horrifying butterfly tattoo emerged on the con mans forehead. He froze and looked at the one who had just passed him a death sentence sitting as aloof and unmoving as before the mark was applied.
"So that's what he's been plotting..." She muttered and then sighed in recognition.
'He's trying to make another batch of us.'
"What di- Aghck!" *Tap* *Thud* A body hit the floor. One with an intricate golden monarch tattoo on his forehead along with a permanent expression of agony.
"I told you I wouldn't tolerate a lie." She said to the man on deaths door, now watching his eyes dim and darken.
' Can't the old bastard just fade out and die like his name has? He just won't stop his power fantasy anytime soon I guess. Fucking demon lord my ass.'
She looked back down at the stunned face of the dead messenger and what he was presenting.
'He wants another elite squad like the five of us. Except he only knows how to scale up.'
"Well I'll have to clean this up when the kids go to sleep. Keep the peace for a little longer at least." She said to herself, locking the door behind her and putting on a much more pleasant and motherly expression.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
David POV
*plop*
Finally freedom!
I had just dropped out of the arms of an older sister in the orphanage and was now running for my life, or more specifically my dignity.
" C'mon Davi let us love you already!~" Mya, a 12 year old girl who doted on most of the younger toddlers except yours truly, hollard and chased after me.
She has yet to rock and cuddle me to sleep as she has my peers due to my constant intervention and vigilance. Ever since I could crawl and now run it's been a game of cat and mouse daily running from her with Moe as my accomplice.
"Fuck no! I ain't your damn teddy bear you gonk for brains!" "Yeah Fwuck no gonk!"
Me and Moe kept running like hell, as fast as our little legs could carry us.
"OI, language brats! Where did you even hear these words?" The matron yelled seemingly materializing in front of us after we stopped looking behind us.
She must've had some premonition quirk or something because everytime I accidentally returned to my usual way of talking when irritated, which was often with the brats in here with me, she would be right there to catch me in the act. However she never got an answer because we always did what we were doing right now. Pointing right at each other and yelling.
"She/He did it!" Simultaneously at that. At least this childhood ain't as depressing as my last one, definitely more annoying though.
The matron Isabella only sighed and shook her head before picking us up by the scruff of our necks and placing us in separate time out corners.
But seeing the hilarious looks on everyone's faces when Moe took to swearing like a real night city denizen made me think.
'Worth it.'