Miller the Killer, For Hire (Gangs and/or other)

[+Unk the Ninja+]

Buisness was conducted wherever the police happened not to be, which was usually not very many places.

This was why Keith Miller, professional conract killer, was perched upon a small rooftop, 11 stories high. To be specific, he was sitting upon a small electrical box. Waiting. He didn't actually know who he was waiting for yet, but that was all part of the fun. As usual, he was armed with several concealed daggers, all poisined at the tip to cause paralysis. It was a beautiful thing. All he had to do was wave his arm in a gesture, and the dagger would spin out, hit the targeted person exactly where he wanted it to, causing them to not be able to move any part of there body in a period of about 35 seconds, give or take.

Keith was a contract killer. He killed who he was told, and he did it quickly, with no trace nor with being caught. For over 7 years he had worked, and the authorities had not caught him yet. He worked for the highest price, and wouldn't do another job until he finished the one he was working on, even if it took a year or two. When he was hired to kill a person, that person had had a death sentence. The only thing that would stop him was his own death.

So, having finished off his last victim (a corrupted company president) he had sent out a small notice to mainly the gangs of District One, but to also a few other people who he had sometimes worked for before. The notice was untraceable and was sent using a underground circle that most people did not know exsisted. It carried messages, and it carried them effieciently and quickly.

As for the message itself, it told the gangs (and the few other people) where he would be, and when, and that he was for hire. It also carried a one sentence warning: "I warn you know, double-cross me, attempt to harm me, and you are my next target." Hopefully, that would be listened to.

So now, he had to wait, and hopefully for not too long. Shivering slightly, he took a moment to spike his hair up, put in the maroon contacts, and brush his face ghostly white. This was all for effect. To scare his customers. But it was something he always did.

Keith, also known as Mr. Miller, The Killer, and a whole variety of other names stood. And he waited.

[Haymitch]

Jason Black, Head of Military Operations of the Untouchables, leaps onto a nearbye building. His right thigh throbs from the pistol concealed in his pocket. When dealing with assasins, anything can happen.

Jason had recieved Miller's message through the Untouchable communication line. Since he desperately needed recruits, he decided to risk a confrontation.

Unfortunately, other gangs had no doubt recieved the same message as well. Better be careful.

Jason leaped again and did a somersault, landing on an electric wire. From there, he spotted Kieth on a nearbye building. Time for Test #1.

All posible recruits, in Jason's book, must pass a series of tests to get in. These tests were quite dangerous for the recruits, and many were killed in the process. Time to see if this one will follow suit.

Jason took out his pistol, leaped onto the same building as Kieth, and fired straight at the assasin's back.

[+Unk the Ninja+]

OTC: Kay, I'm KAY at raping (if I may say so myself) but this part, I may end up power playing a little. If so, it is UNINTENTIONAL, and I completely apologize. Let me, know, I'll edit my post appropriately and we'll continue from there. Thank you.

The first thing that Keith had done before going into his line of work was to attune his senses and, for the umpteenth time, he thanked himself.

Being an assaisan was never a merry, cheery, let's be happy business. There were probably shots going to be fired at him, things to hear, things to read, to smell, and the et cetera. So, with some very expensive equipment that he had gotten from an underworld contact, and a book about the arts of the ninjas that he had stolen from the library, Keith spent an entire year at home. He learned how to see farther and sniff out new smells; this, he was good enough at that he could smell most poisons in his food, a hard but extremely useful thing to learn. His fingertips were incredibly sensitive, able to find dust on a surface and tell him whether it was contained rock or fibers. His taste buds could usually break down something and let him know exactly what was in it. But tonight, his ears were what was useful-- for they too had been worked on until he could hear most sounds around him.

It happened as he waited, that approximately 3 buildings away a human was running, leaping from one to the next. He was extremely good at it, and staying silent enough that any regular human would not hear him. Keith smiled. He was most certainly no regular human.

Without turning around, Keith held his breath and listened carefully. The man had just sprung onto a wire..and oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. He had pulled a gun out of his pocket. The sound of it cocking was quite loud, due to Keith's concentration. He shut out everything else, blood pounding in his ears, and waited until he heard the almost imperceptible shlick that meant the trigger had started coming back, but had not finished.

Keith forgot about the gun, and concentrated on throwing himself to the side as he turned around. It was quite a powerful jump and he landed almost 7 feet from wear he had started. He was now facing his would-be-killer. But nobody killed Keith Miller. Not before he killed them-- that was his job. But Keith did plan on any killing for tonight. Just scaring.

Leaping forward from side to side, Keith advanced quickly on the gunman. It was done in such a way that it would be hard for him to get another shot in. As he went, he stealthily drew several stiletto's from a hidden sleeve, all in various sizes. These he palmed in his hand.

Leaping an incredible....3 feet, Keith jumped to the wire with the man still on it. Keith's stared at him for a moment, then smiled. The movement was so unexpected, for both Keith and his rival (or so Keith assumed), that he was able to extend his hand and twist the gun from his opponent's grip. He pointed it in his face.

"No, no, not going to kill you. Of course not. That'd be too messy at the moment, and there's nothing worse than being shot by your own gun. No, I want to give you a demonstration. Do you have a timer? Time me, please."

Keith then took the stilettos from his palm, and used them to carefully open the guns' workings. As he did this, he spoke.

"Guns are incredibly noisy, and sometimes, they blow up in your face. This is precisely why I don't use them. You shouldn't either, mob, but then again we're in different line's of work."

He carefully extracted a small, L-shaped metal piece from the gun and started putting it back together.

"This things however--"and he flipped one of the stiletto's high in the air, only to catch it--"will never ever fail you. You can poison the tips with a variety of concoctions. You can throw them, and they have other purposes, as I have demonstrated." He shoved the gun next to the persons neck, and dramatically pulled the trigger.

"I have rendered your gun useless. With five--"he displayed them one by one, flipping them across his fingers--"five stilettos. Oops!" And he dropped the gun, where it fell to the ground.

"Name is Keith Miller, line of work is contract killer. I assume you conducted a test to see if I was able to be part of your group? I do hope I've passed. Why don't we conduct business somewhere more comfortable?" And he leapt to the opposite building, squatting down on the ground.

That should have had the desired effect, or so he hoped. Now, time for biasness.

OTC: Kay, taking the gun was power playing but...I thought it was pretty cool...if you REALLY don't like it, I'll change it, but maybe he can have another one in his pocket? Thanks.

[Haymitch]

OOC: That's okay, Unk. I'll have Jason think of something else.


BIC: Despite himself, Jason forced a smile. Good with weapons, check. High mental capacity, check.

"Very good, Miller." he said, "You have passed with flying colors. Now, while we conduct buisness, I suggest you don't try any more tricks, as I might be tempted to detonate a few bomb I had placed yesterday in the spot where you are now standing."

Jason pulled out a piece of paper. "Now, about buiseness. I am Jason Black, Head of Military Operations of the Untouchables, the most feared gang in all of Panem. We are offering you a well-paying job, with no limit to victims or excitement."

"Now, if you accept this job, you will recieve a payment of 75, 000 doallars a year. You will also recieve additional payment for completing assasinations, the price ranging on the difficulty and importance."

Jason showed him the paper, which listed the monthly payments and other things to know about the job.

"That's our offer. Take it or leave it."

[+Unk the Ninja+]

OOC: Thanks a mil. I owe you one. Break his nose or something if you want.

A smile quirked at the edge of Keith's mouth, hidden in shadow. He usually did pass with flying colors. But they didn't know half of what he was capable of. Nobody did. They'd most likely me scared enough to turn him in to the police.

Keith put on his most innocent look as he replied to the man's first statement. "Me, pull any tricks? You were the one who started the assessment, I remind you my good sir, even if I did ruin your gun. I apologize about that. I do hope you can get another. See, I don't normally like it when I'm being fired at." Let him chew on that one! "All the same, I think I shall move this way a little....to avoid your bombs." He moved about 60 feet to the right. It might have been not quite out of range, but, here he could quickly escape.

And then he paused again as the man pulled out a piece of paper, presumably a contract, and introduced himself. Things started to go not the way he wanted, however. Mr. Black seemed to assume that Keith did full time contracts. This was usually not his case- one job, one deal, move on to the next.

And he was also slightly forceful. "That's our offer. Take it or leave it.", he had said. Not good. Keith would have to be polite, something that he was not too practiced at. This man could be dangerous, as he was the head of military operations in The Untouchables. But there were other ways to get under his skin.

"The Untouchables? The most feared gang in all of Panem?" said Keith, acting surprise and slight sarcasm. "Oh, I don't know. I've heard that The Prestige can give them a run for their money...and the best is only the best until..." unable to thing of something witty, he said "they're not the best."

"I'm sorry, business time. I'm afraid that you might have heard wrong about what I do. I do not do full term contracts, or at least very rarely (and I'm sorry to say, for prices extremely higher. Unfortunately, I also usually end up ending them. Violently.). I do single killings. One deal. One price. Then, sure, perhaps you can come back for more.

Or perhaps, Mr. Black, we can do something that isn't full term but still a contract. I work for you for a few months, do exactly what you want, get the money, and then leave.

It's your call, Mr. Black, and you said that I had to take it our leave it. If you won't comply with something else, then I'm afraid I must leave it. I apologize. Thank you."

Keith fingered the stilettos in his palm. He dearly hoped things didn't get nasty.

[Haymitch]

Jason smiled dangerously. "No full-time contracts, oh? Well, maybe you would change your mind with a couple of bullets shot into your heart." With this Jason pulled out an automatic rifle. He pointed it towards Keith.

"Now, Keith, I have a counterproposal, as I do not want to get messy here. $25,000 for one assassination: Sirius Armory, leader of the inferior Prestige. If you don't like that price, than you can take my earlier proposal: be a full-time Untouchable, at a payment of 200,000 dollars a year, plus individual assassinations. If you don't like either..." Jason motioned to his gun. "Then we wouldn't like anyone else to get their hands on you, so my final offer is: Take it..... or die."

[+Unk the Ninja+]

OOC: Erm, he pulled an automatic rifle out of his pocket? Nah, I'm just messing. It was on the rooftop or something. And btw, he probably isn't going to end up ever killing anyone, because people rarely agree to their characters death. Btw, some of the stuff he says isn't true, but it's what he believes.

Things did start to get nasty, and rather quickly. Black had pulled an automatic rifle from behind an electrical box, and it was now loaded, aimed, and ready to fire many bullets into Keith's heart and lungs, ensuring a quick death.

Death was something that Keith Miller didn't do-- not to himself, at least. He had decided a long time ago that he would not die until exactly when he wanted to. Of course, there would be the day where someone fired at him and it was impossible to avoid. That is why Keith really didn't like guns being pointed at him. It was an extra of one of those chances. And since there had been three of those chances tonight, Keith was starting to get angry. It rumbled in his chest, like a bull about to charge.

He spoke.

"That sounds more agreeable. I think, in fact, that I shall agree." Keith stuck out his hand (the one without the stilettos) to shake and seal the deal. "Mr. Amory is the head leader. He is surely protected by many measures, therefore being hard to assassinate. I do not know when I will succeed, but I tell you sir, I will succeed." He laughed, even if his eyes and mouth were not doing so. "Money is almost no issue. I have enough money to buy the stock market out. This is a very profitable job, you see. I have lots and lots of money.

I'll tell you the reason why I don't want to be a full time worker of yours, in case you're interested. There are, in fact, several reasons. First of all, I don't particularly want to be a full time worker for anyone at the moment. In case yo didn't know, the police are starting, or trying at least, to crack down on the gangs. I have no intention of being brought in. They'd kill me without trial.

Second. Here, unfortunately, I must get unpleasant." He stepped three feet closer to him, and told him about death. "Death's a black (no pun intended, sir) hole, man, and I have sent more people there than you can count. I have no intention of dying until exactly when I want to. But I am not God. One day, a man or a woman will point a gun at my head and they will pull the trigger. And one time, I will not be able to survive. And I tell you. My last emotion before I die will be anger. And I tell you that if there is anything beyond death, I will use it and I will come back.

And see, you tonight have provided me with three of those chances. Three chances that I might die. The first, I managed to escape, and the second I have most likely managed to escape. The third--which you are pointing at me right now-- I do not know. I do not know.

So let me say to you. I am not pleased. Every time one of those chances comes up, I am not pleased. Good God, Mr. Black. You are professional. Shouldn't you know it is slightly unwise to trifle with one like me?

And I ask you something. Have you ever used any sort of weapon, including your hands, to kill someone? I'm sure you have. But why did you do it, Mr. Black? Because you were told? Because you were paid? Because you are good at it? I do it for all the reasons, but the last one I am going to tell you is what makes me so incredibly dangerous. It is what makes me feared, it is what makes me able to kill so many people so quickly, silently, and efficiently.

I kill, Mr. Black, because I like doing so.

I am a killing machine. I am absolutely and completely unable to die until I want to. I am invincible. I am quick, I am strong, I am smart, I am fast, and I do exactly what I want to, where I want to, at the exact time I want to do it. It is this that makes me able to do this, Mr. Black. Able to kill ruthlessly and quickly.

I am a God, sir. If I can truly kill whoever I want to, then I am able to decide who lives, and who dies. And I believe that I can kill exactly who I want to.

And I believe that I can kill Sirius Amory.

Mr. Black?

I am Keith Miller. I am The Killer.

With that final statement, Keith walked to the edge of the rooftop, and jumped. He landed 14 feet below on a fire escape, miraculously without a sound. He scampered down the escape, climbing like a spider. He moved from side to side, silently, and within moments, Keith had disappeared into the night. He was gone.

To kill.

[Haymitch]

OOC: Yes, of course I wasn't going to make Jason kill Miller. Jason just didn't know that. I guess this ends the thread. Mind if I put it in the post museum?)

[+Unk the Ninja+]

OOC: I guessed you weren't going to and Keith didn't think so either. He was just reminding and warning you that he really doesn't like death threats-- cause say, if the gun went off, he could die.

I guess it's done, unless you want to do a a post with Black's reactions to Keith's comments, which you could. Otherwise, please leave it here-- we might need reference to it later. Thanks.