There was something to be said about heroes. The impressive quality of a balance they carry between self loathing and self righteousness. Pride and humble qualities that we're left to wonder if we should admire them and put them up on pedastols or instead search for the flaw, the weakness that will make them break. The funny thing is that after the world has given up so much on itself the heroes start to fall too. The immortals begin to act as mortals, the morals start to become jaded. There are so many complex patterns that I can't help but feel fascinated after all these years how the heroes, how...we... adapt. But who am I to judge? Who am I to consider myself a hero or well a heroine? I hardly find myself such a hero. I am flawed in my device and there is nothing special about me, I'm far more ordinary then people think. They keep on searching for something that will reveal something magnificent about me... yet even if I did have something that made me so... I would never be so foolish as to reveal it. Secrets are made secrets for a reason. They keep us safe, and serve us well those secrets. I've gone from the concrete to class and even now I have the street rough way of wary caution. It suits me so well, at least I'd like to think so. So far so goo...

The knock broke her concentration as the pen tore a hole in the thin sheets of the journal. Silvered greys narrowed thoughtfully as she held her breath. Perhaps if she was quiet enough they would not believe she was there, that she had just stepped out for a bite to eat. The knock resonated again, shaking the wood as an exasperated sigh escaped and her pen was thrown back across the desk to click sharply against the glass of whiskey.

"It's open."

Her voice carried in a way that would leave the soul behind the oak in hesitation. Smooth to the point and thin line of seduction if not for the rich burr of accent. Unplaceable. Her accent was not one easily affiliated with one culture or one significant heritage. It left so many of her clients playing the guessing game.

Fingers began a slow drum on the desk when Gene entered and a brow arched in question. So long would she look at him unblinking that he had to clear his throat to draw attention back to her and the matters at hand. Those features the business facade that Gene found each and every day he was finding it far more difficult to decipher. The woman was an enigma. An enigma unwilling to ever speak of herself or the past.

"You're late."
"Ane..."
"What do you want?"

She cut him off before the game began again. The whole dance of words that were filled with multiple meanings and hidden intentions. It was always on his side. In Ane's game of chess she was never the queen captured to end the game. Instead she was the queen that had murdered the king and taken the pawns home. The robbing of the rich to give back to the poor was hardly a charity to Ane but it was... something.

Her hand rose as she motioned for him to take the chair on the other side of the desk as she sat back in her own chair. Drumming fingers ceased to an elegant silence as her smile was light and worn. Her patience was wearing thin and Gene easily could read it in her eyes.

"You've been offered another job."
"A job?"

She smiled at the frustrated, rude sound he made in his throat as she mocked him.

"An arrangement. A request. Something you do well and they know you do well, Ane. It's not this whole disguised play you make of stating you're only in it for Marketing and Public Affairs. This is... some of your old work."

"I see."
"Just take a look."
"Tell me about it. You were always better with the description then the paperwork ever was."
"Let's just call it a research project in a place called Rhy'din."
"Well... that is interesting. Fill me in."

Gene wasted no time in filling the woman across from him in on all the details. He was one of the few in the company besides the big fish clients that knew who and what Ane was in regards to businesses and investors. An informant. He knew just by looking at her that he had captured her attention and that she would be signing on to the project.

"Make the arrangements."
"Ane, before you go... have a drink with me."
"I don't interfere in personal relations of my business partners"
"It's a drink..."
"Do you realize that there is often the question of the pen being mightier then the sword?"
"Yes of course Ane. Everyone knows that."
"Yes of course. Everyone. Lucky for me I know how to handle both a pen and a sword. This is one of the main reasons I do not get myself involved in public affairs on a personal level."
"It's just a drink Ane. Nothing more. Nothing less."
"Gene. Make the arrangements. I'm leaving tonight."

Her hands smoothed along the dress worn as she stood with a silken whisper of fabric and crossed the room. She didn't wait for him, she knew it would be done just as she wished.

So this is how it all begins and maybe it's how it all would start to end...Rhy'din the final destination, whether she knew it or not. Ane would never be coming back to what she knew before.

Protocol be damned. I was starting to realize that if the client was keeping track of me I would already be pulled off the task. Not even a handful of days and already I had overstepped the boundaries of my usual handling of things. Usually I've sat back and observed and instead I ended up interacting. It was hard to say if the interaction on his behalf was nothing more then acts and facade, or if it was truth. I had to get a grip on the situation and more so a hold of myself. Sure it would have been easy enough to play that game right on with him. To flirt and laugh, to charm and entice would have made the start out of my time here far more enjoyable but I was here for a job. Just the job. Wasn't I? Just one meeting and already I was questioning myself. It wasn't good, and to think if this was the basis of a starting from one... what did the other two promise? This was a suicide mission or a test. Yes. We'll consider it that... only a test and I planned on completing it with flying colors...

The crescendo of 'Rhapsody in Blue' roused her out of sleep as she pawed at the night stand to flick on the light. The cell phone was flicked open and pressed to her ear with a groan at the time. 3 a.m.

"Gene... to you know what time it is? It's no time for bullsh*t. I need my beauty sleep."
"Beauty sleep? I thought you were just doing a job, why would you care what you look like?"
"Ha ha. Very funny. What do you want?"
"I have some more information for you. The files will be delivered in the morning. I've arranged for an exchange if you can manage it."
"Of course. Hold on."

A fumbling grip for a pen and paper as she grunted her notice to Gene that she was ready to take down the address and pick up time. Already here for a handful of days and she knew it wasn't the best of places to go for an exchange. Seedy and rowdy that environment but she had a feeling that was where the next would be found.

"I'm sure you'll like the next one, Ane. He's right up your alley."

The masculine laugh on the other side of the line was met with her silence as a hand rubbed along her face. She knew exactly what he meant. He was relating to her old days as the concrete pounding lost soul.

It took enough to bite back words or maybe she was tired but she found something appropriate to settle with.

"Fxck you, Gene."
"Hey... remember. I offered."

The witty retort brought a smoky laugh from her as she shook her head with a grin.

"I'm hanging up now."
"Ane."
"What?"
"I'm serious. Take care of yourself."
"Don't I always?"

She clicked the cell phone off and shut it down before he could answer. Or more so before she could start to question herself all over again. Ane had to take care of herself, it was all she had. On her own and so far it worked just fine.

Sighing she rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. She had some time before it was back to work, and back to this whole charade.

I woke up again last night feeling like the world was being rendered to shreds and taking me along for the ride. My whole body ached, feeling as if my insides were being torn to ribbons even while I felt like I was on fire. Burned alive. That's how it all felt. I thought this all was over, or maybe I was just trying to deny the truth that I can't escape this no matter how much I tried. It had been at least a month since the last episode and I thought I was safe. What a joke. The whole experience tore me from a pleasant dream. Now looking back I have something of a guilt complex for thinking about him that way. I can't help it. He's complex and attractive and I'm still a woman when it all comes down to it. I'll blame it on spring hormones, that sounds like a good idea. We're all playing a game still of business and broken hearts even while the distance of a safety fence seemed to keep us separated. Taking that risk, it would likely be the same as stepping on landmines. Tragic endings. The irony though is how much of a tragic ending I was made for. Happy ever after. Fxck that. Disney didn't write for people like me

The night had given away to dawn and with it the burden of the torments before. She could have almost wondered at first if the Playboy had been right, that a bottle of Jack was just as abusive as any other lover. Ane could easily make that assumption by the pulsating headache she woke up with and the near mishap of not making it in time before her world went spinning. One moment to be standing strong and the next a shaky, sweaty mess of a woman collapsed on the floor.

Fingers clutched and clawed as she held on, knowing well it would pass. This too would pass. Ane held on to her thoughts in order to fight the desire to scream. She ignored her cell phone as it flew into a crescendo of the Gershwin ringtone, a dresser drawer flying to crash into the wall as she collected the only thing that would ease the pain.

The appearance of the savage crawling lines on her arm made her grimace. The ruin of a woman. Ane was no addict but her arms told another story. A flash of images clouded her mind even as she slumped back against the bed waiting for the pain to dissipate.

Business as always she managed to flip open her cell phone. The man had to be a fxcking mind reader. Strange enough even as she mumbled out a greeting to Gene and mustered a bit of lightness in her tone she couldn't help but get flashbacks of the night earlier. The simple, light touches. A look in his eyes. The offer to get her out of the contract by giving them what they wanted. What they wanted... maybe she wasn't so willing to give up.

"Ane... Ane... damn it woman."
"I'm here."
"It happened again didn't it?"

A pause. Silence. His frantic intensity at calling her name over again had her breathing out a weary sigh.

"Yeah."
"Do you have enough to last?"
"Maybe enough for a few more months, but it's going to run out eventually."

Gene's silence had the anxiety rising in her even as she managed to find her feet again. Weary grey eyes set to the mirror as she did what she could to prepare to face another day, to work on hiding it all away. Finally his voice filled the silence again but she couldn't help but linger on the fear he was trying so hard to keep in check.

"Ane. You have to do this. You know you have to get this job done. If you don't..."
"Don't say it. I know. I'm on my own if I don't. Same old story, just a different ending. I have to get to work and Gene? Thanks."

A game of play with a Playboy and Ane was becoming reckless even as she looked at that remaining supply with a curling snake of anxiety ridden despair. There wasn't much time. Not much time at all.

I didn?t believe an empty booth would ever leave me so distraught. It left me feeling as desolate and gloomy as the realization of what all had been done to the Beauty. To realize that they had blinded her out of the Council Head?s jealous theory that if she was blinded no one would want her disgusted me. Of course I knew it all so well before, had known of the day that the lobotomy had gone wrong and left her blinded instead of their doll to command and work with. I had hoped the Playboy would be there but then again he was not mine. He was not one I could claim by any sort of beck or call. Perhaps he had heeded my words and moved on. No one wants or desires to love or lust after the dying. At least the Cowboy had kept me company, making sure the whiskey glass stayed full if not diluted by the ice cubes I requested to melt within the sweet amber. It wasn?t the same and I loathed the truth of it. The Cowboy?s words stayed with me. I had been stood up. Then again reality toyed with me, there was no date. This had never been a date. It was nothing more then business right? Sure and I?m a damn fool. There was something to be said about this feeling stirring within me and I sure as hell would let him know once I saw him again. I?ll be damned if I ever confess that well? I missed him.

Her fingers worked circles into her temples as she looked over the files, chewing on her lower lip as the pen long had been gnawed down to a near blunt point. The revelation in the files had left her ill at ease. Of any that should have ended up being used by the Order it should not have been Beauty. The girl was far too unstable after all they had done to her. Ane didn?t even feel that anything done to her could compare to what they had done to Beauty.

The woman had been isolated and sheltered for much of her life, and when the council wasn?t numbing the Beauty?s mind with their drugs and altering her genetic code the clarity of the Beauty?s mind left the woman to seem whimsical and demure, breakable and prone to a world of wonder and dreams.

Ane had to wonder if Leo discovered the truth if it would not torment him to see what they had done to the Beauty. What was worse was the fact it all was for the sheer purpose and plan to take advantage of his family long before he even got involved with the Playboy. Which only left Ane to wonder? just how long had the Order been keeping track of the trio? Was there something else the Order knew that wasn?t in the files and the research that went long past the existence of Ed, Finn, and Leo?

That was the only reason she could conclude was that this all was larger then they first imagined and went far past the Playboy?s projects and business. Could there be more then just a domination and pursuit of power that transcended far past their own lives? The thought shook her to the core as she shoved the files away, fingers pressing to her temples.

It was far too much to contemplate and imagine. Still there were the signs even in the projects the Order itself was fashioning. Even the project that had fashioned her and altered her D.N.A. and genetic codex spoke volumes. Pandora or as some of the other members of the Order called it the Eve/Eden project had gone back as far as Ane was aware. After all she was the twenty third model of their testing and so far the testing had been successful up until this point. Ane knew it was only a matter of time before they would begin the research and development for test subject XXIV.

The time was running out for Ane, and more then anything she loathed that helpless feeling she had over time perhaps running out for Beauty as well. Then again there was always the possibility that the Beauty could help her just as Ane and the Playboy could perhaps help the Beauty. To give was to receive. After all had it not been the Beauty herself that had suggested the trinket boxes?

With a resigned sigh Ane shoved the files away after one last look over the older photo of Beauty. It was obvious that the photo had been taken long before the woman had been blinded. Now it was only left in their hands to find the Beauty before she in turn found Leo. Or even worse, if the Order found them both before any interference could be managed by Ane or the Playboy.

Still as Ane dressed to head out for the night, she still had to wonder? what was it about Leo and the Beauty that demanded so much of the Order?s attention? Was it possible that it never had been about the Playboy and his business but instead about them?

A shake of head and she took to the night, that frown a cinematic marring to the silver starlet beauty of the Lovely. There were too many questions and not enough answers. It was time she found them.