Still Alive

It's wierd sitting to a fancy dinner at "Le Bien Viva" (Side note--I'm positive that's not real French, or Italian or Spanish or whatever it pretends to be) with a guy who has killed nearly a million people in his career. He looks just as creepy as I'd heard, too. Death's Head was all in this black suit, with a rust-red tie and vest. And while he was there, the restaurant was full of moths. Fluttering around the lights, landing on his shoulders and tie. And the air...it just kind of felt menacing, electric, and malicious. And anyone who says I have creepy eyes has not looked into the black depths of Death's Head's eyes. I don't even remember what the rest of his face looked like, though pictures are on CapeWiki. There's just something about him in person that's unsettling and confusing.

"Welcome, Mr. Ferrian, Miss Baracs." His voice was both smooth and somehow dissonant. And yes, Silas Ferrian. If you didn't know who my dad was before you do now. "I am glad you could make it. Please, enjoy dinner. It is Operation Mayhem's treat."

"I think before I accept a meal from the world's premier psychic assassin, I'd like to know why you asked us here? Or, more importantly, why did you frame me for trying to kill Rake?" I asked, full of false bravado. The presence of my lady friend helped to bolster my bluster.

"As you suspect, those two things are intricately related, Mr. Ferrian. And, as you have also suspected, we are responsible for neither this nor the previous attempt on Rake's life. Until recently, we have barely registered him as a threat." He drank a sip of wine that cost about as much as it cost my mom to put me through nursery school. "That is, ironically..." He trailed off. I imagine he knew I would finish the statement.

"..until he started framing you. So why hasn't Op Mayhem tried to assassinate him now?"

"You have, haven't you?" Judy chimed in. "You tried to teach him a lesson for this and it didn't take."

Death's Head smiled. That smile will give me nightmares. "You are quite astute, the both of you. We have never recovered the assassins we have sent after Jonathan Rake. No bodies, no taunt, nothing. As if something has gobbled them up whole."

A waiter arrived and took our orders. Predictably, Death's Head ordered nothing.

"Why are you telling us this?" Judy asked. It was me who answered.

"He's making amends."

The assassin stood and put on a hat that I still can't remember and nodded. "Yes. You are two very talented young "villains". The Operation always has an eye to the future, and we would hate for two with such promise to be poisoned against us. If you will excuse me, I must take my leave."

I'm pretty sure he was gone right after he said that, but I didn't notice him leaving. Just the moths petering out.

Operation Mayhem did indeed pay for our very expensive meal. Judy was very excited by the whole thing, especially learning Op. Mayhem has its eye on us.

I'm less enthusiastic, to tell the truth. I'm not a very big fan of killing--I avoid it when I can. In Operation Mayhem, killing is a necessity, it's part of the atmosphere, part of the job, and an all-engrossing hobby. Any organization of nihilistic sociopaths with members as prolific as them would see my lack of bloody violence not as a personal preference, but as a dangerous aberration.

Maybe I'm just paranoid. But I have my reasons for not trusting Op. Mayhem, even though I think Death's Head was truthful to us.

Oh well, I'm gonna mod my armor and take it out for a test run. More later.