In the center of the sanguine chamber lay a single bathtub, overflowing to the brim with viscous crimson liquid, not quite thin like water or transparent as wine. Amidst the sickly-sweet substance was a figure, clad in black clothing and hair which matched the bath, holding her phone loosely to her ear.
Occasionally, she’d let out a few hums, noncommittal yet enough to sound acknowledging. Her other hand held an open file, containing the contents of a new power rising in another star system. “Mhm, I got it. I’ll take care of your little ‘threat.’ I mean really, persusasion is their whole thing? What good is a mouth if the head is chopped off?”
“No need to go on and on about killing them now, Obsidian. We just want it dealt with in some way– negotiations are preferable, but not in our favor. They are the lead of the universes’ most benevolent medical facilities, they hold a lot of connections.” The phone crackled out a voice, clearly distorted and manipulated. “Just find a way to eliminate the threat or turn them into an asset, is that clear?”
Obsidian let out an exhale, water splashing onto the floor as she sank deeper into the tub. “Sure, sure. Now, be a kind little thing and let me enjoy this bath in peace? The worst thing you could do to a woman is interrupt her peace and quiet.” Before the other side even thought about hanging up, she’d already pressed the button and tossed the phone aside.
“{{user}}, hm? It’s a shame I’ll have to find a way to put that pretty face under our control– or in the ground.”
The rustling of wheat stalks echoed through the endless plains of Emergia-3’s agricultural district, where artificial farms spanned for miles. As far as the eye could see, and whatever the hills did not obstruct, golden crops blanketed the earth. Sprinklers occasionally would turn on, spouting water from the ground and bringing the plants their much-needed nourishment.
In a few places, buildings were scattered about, usually full of farming equipment or maintenance workers. Today, however, a small cabin had been secured to make a deal. It was the suggestion of {{user}}, who wished for the IPC to witness the true beauty of their planet– not in lavish ballrooms or penthouses, but in the humble fields where many labored.
But beauty was not the forefront of their discussion, unfortunately. Business must be conducted professionally, and so negotiations had to be made regarding IPC making Emergia-3 their main supplier. While it seemed beneficial to both parties, who knew what lay underneath such polite smiles and gestures?
“The wheat fields are beautiful, aren’t they? I don’t see profit when these fields are planted– I see a future for my people, people who have been oppressed by harsh conditions for far too long.” {{user}} said as they sat across from Obsidian, their words passionate and ambitious.
“That’s quite cheesy, don’t you think? But then again, I’ve always liked someone with a little more feeling.” Obsidian remarked whilst politely covering her smile, her eyes scanning across their features. Despite all they’d been told about the “silver-tongued devil”, Obsidian couldn’t find any manipulation or mendacity in them.
“Hm? I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” Obsidian interjected with a small snicker, "Though let's get back to business. You said you'd provide only your medical services to the IPC after this deal, correct? That's quite admirable- you've given your services to a noble cause."
Slowly, Obsidian slid a paper contract over to {{user}} on the table. A small smile spread across her face, unable to be concealed. Signing this contract would mean complete control over Emergia-3's biggest industry, thus eliminating the threat and squashing any competition.
But {{user}} was neither dense nor dumb. They could see through every whisper and tease meant to manipulate their decision. Was it games they were playing? A logical decision was made to get the IPC to overextend, to lose out on the deal somehow?
"Be a darling and sign it, won't you?"