Full Name:Irish, no-one knows more.
Age:Unknown
Gangly, with haunting eyes and a smile that you could imagine sharp teeth in....
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Irish
A selfserving efficient man
0 · 179 views · located in 
Dead End
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Alasund
Description
Personality
He is efficient, and usually doesn't really show emotions. However, he is self serving, and will jump boat quickly. Only the DC's impregnable strength has kept him with them so long.
Equipment
A lot of things you don't want to know about.
History
Mercenary like, Irish has been known to pop around, a prison keeper and torturer with rare skill, no-one as of this moment knows his origins and past.
So begins...
Irish's Story
- Seen 23 Times • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
Irish leaned back slightly, a twisted smile playing about his lips as he slowly flipped open the phone. The fools he was working for hadn't even noticed the mobile as something that would be useful for information, but the gangly jail-keeper knew better. If you checked it deeply enough, you could, conceivably, find out every number that has ever contacted or been contacted by this phone. But he didn't need to delve that deeply. All he wanted was someone who could link him up with a high up for Hataf, so that he could sell information for money.
It's what he always did, after all. And then he could sell some more back to the DC. As long as the DC came out on top, the information sold would be of no consequence, his talents lay in making as much money as possible while keeping his side in the lead. He clicked the dial to the most often called number, and activated the phone, slowly bringing it up to his ear as he looked out of the shuttle's windows. When the phone finally gets through, but before anyone can reply, his rasping voice echoes over the connection, "Hello .. is this , Hataf?"
It's what he always did, after all. And then he could sell some more back to the DC. As long as the DC came out on top, the information sold would be of no consequence, his talents lay in making as much money as possible while keeping his side in the lead. He clicked the dial to the most often called number, and activated the phone, slowly bringing it up to his ear as he looked out of the shuttle's windows. When the phone finally gets through, but before anyone can reply, his rasping voice echoes over the connection, "Hello .. is this , Hataf?"
"Really?" Irish cocked his head, "There are many lines which connect to Hataf, if you are not interested in my wares, then I guess I'll have to find another." He grinned slightly. This one was of Hataf, he was pretty sure, but if he did not wish to reveal that, then there were, of course, other options. "And ... I don't have a wrong number." He adds, intent on clarifying that this man didn't make mistakes. If he'd called a number, he had meant to call a number. His fingers twitched on the armrest, he prefered getting to the point, not dancing around a subject. Surely this man knew his compatriot was dead, Adnan's 'death' had been publicized.
"From a phone which some stupid guards threw out when they were done with the body." He grinned, playing with truth slightly... "I deal in information." His eyes narrowed slightly, almost tasting the money that he could garner from the Hataf terrorists. His mind could already see the riches. His compatriots would, of course, get a share, after all, he wouldn't've been able to get off the GodFlower without being noticed without his little friends.
"True, very astute." His grin widened, so Hataf had some intelligent people on it, no wonder it had survived this long, and been this successful. "I want, as you may guess, money. In trade, I'll give you information on the DC. I am the Harlequin." Not a name that was well known, but that codename wouldn't be hard to find if you had any underworld connection. He only hoped that his codename would be recognized for what it was, one of the most reliable information dealers around, he may not give you all the information, but he's never given out false information for money, that would ruin his reputation.
"300,000 Terran Credits." Yes, that would certainly be nice. Irish was stating a base price here, he was always interested in bargaining, "So, where would you like to meet?" He asks, the next most important part. Also, the other would be distracted, and less focused on how much money he wanted. 300,000 was only a moderately large amount. It wasn't even half a million. But the question would be, would they be willing to give him? He'd never dealt with Hataf before, they only had his codename's reputation to go on. He'd, as usual, get more costly the bigger the information. At the moment he wouldn't be giving information on Adnan's death, that would be even more costly. That was of massive strategic interest. This would be about the DC's planned attacks on the Hataf operatives that they had the names and locations for, as well as information on the GodFlower and it's defenses.
He almost giggled, not easily distracted was this one. A bargainer too, quite a few people he'd dealt with over the years would accept the initial price without bargaining. He decided to jump just a little at first, "275,000 Credits." He replies back, "I've information on the GodFlower and planned strikes on Hataf." He does not bother to reply to the comment on travelling, it would be a joke if he couldn't travel. He nodded to the pilot, signalling Wing City. The shuttle slowly beginning to descend towards the atmosphere, silent enough to leave no sound, nor trace of it ever having been there.
"190,000." He answers back. "With another 40,000 if you're satisfied." He quickly replies, they were getting closer to sealing the deal now. Slipping through the atmosphere, stealth shields active and all sensor deflectors operating as they head towards a private landing a little way out of WingCity. His shuttle was his own secret, not even his employers on the DC knew much about it.
"Accepted." He answers. 215,000 Credits would do, he got it over the halfway bar on his side. "I will be seeing you soon." He adds as the shuttle, having landed, seems to come apart. Leaving the central piece, in which he was sitting, as a car. The hangar would be shielded as soon as he left the area, and he slowly shut the phone as the car drove towards WingCity, and a meeting for information.
Quickly transported, the two officials of the Terran Government find themselves in what looks suspiciously like a bunker. A wartime bunker, designed to protect the inhabitants from all the way up to nuclear bombs. There are a couple of unidentifiable guards in the background, but what shows out the most is the tall figure in a long flowing cape, black silk clothing and wearing a mask that obscures his features. He is not an unknown personage, rather that even Haima might recognize him. The Harlequin was laughing. "Well, well. Hello my dear birds. Flown the cage that was set you? Oh, wait. I did that, didn't I." And then he starts laughing again. He sounds almost insane, and, if anything, losing any sanity left by the minute.
Irish was grinning behind his mask, his laughter trailing away. "Ah, but I always am there to strike when the iron is at it's most maluable. Surely you know my reputation. I can and have changed the tides of wars. But really, the question that sits highest on my mind right now is this, what reason do I have not to sell you to your attempted killers? I will gain the money I want, and the dear poor little Aschen will have their targets nutralized." His eyes scrutinized the duo, deciding very quickly that Haima was not only in no condition to talk to, but that he probably wasn't as worth it anyways.
"Ah, but I am undecided. I have other agenda's which aren't quite working out how I'd hoped." He reaches a hand up to the mask, whispering into something for a moment before returning attention back to the conversation. "Any way. I can think of other alternatives, but the Aschen have us at a deadlock, and I'm afraid that it's looking increasingly like they will manage to eliminate you no matter what you do. And, it looks like I'm the deciding factor. I hold all the jokers in this game." He pauses for a moment, the eyes narrowing. "But now I'm faced with another decision that could decide a war." He already had a good idea of what he was going to do. But he let no indication that he'd made up his mind get through.
The medical aide that he'd called previously finally arrived, also masked. Moving forward to look at Haima, He quickly surveyed the problem before gesturing in the stretcher, taking the Leader of the TNG out of the room. "Yes, actually. Quite to the point my dear." He nods. "The Aschen either must be dealt with, or win this confrontation. Even though that would mean the destruction of the Aschen. But the Terran Governments collapse does NOT work in my favour."
"Yes." He nods. His eyes narrowed still. His intense gaze staring at her for a few seconds. "As you may guess, I'm not after the wellbeing of the Terran government." He pauses again. "So. The solution I see at the moment?" He turns around, yet again pausing in the middle of his commentary. "That Haima and you do not appear publically, and do not give the Aschen a clue as to where you are hiding."
The Harlequin as there, looking at her with mild interest for a few moments. "You are serious." He states quite flatly, then laughs. Oh, the humour that irony inspired. "So be it. It seems that I must work harder. Know it or not, you among others have a place in my plan. And I would beware the Hataf, they have recently met with an Aschen, and the Aschen came out alive." The statement obviously indicating that for the man to come out alive, some sort of deal must have been reached.
He gesture's languidly towards the door, seemingly non-chalant. However his eyes continued to scrutinize the lady. Drulovic, he'd heard so much about her. But this was the first time the two had met face to face, and for the first time in ages he was actually impressed. Yes, actually quite impressed. He was unable to even subtly minipulate her. Yes, she would be well worth watching. But she would be unlikely to make a stupid mistake, unlike Haima. "You may go." He says quietly.
The white room was almost a mix between an asylum and a medical operations room. The equipment all around Haima was medical in purpose. Or, if not, certainly looked it. There were a few cloaked aide's in the room, their feature's cloaked as they finished cleaning and packing the equipment, the wounds sealed and the broken bones almost magically healed. There was no signs of any injury, whether it was a past one or one gotten in the attack on the government center.
The Harlequin entered the room, tall and imposing in his mask and cloak, and the fact that no man had ever managed to find out his true identity. He had ways and means, but while Drulovic had known this, it was debatable whether Haima would know. Irish smiled to himself, waiting for the TNG's leader to wake up properly from the sedatives and acknowledge the presence of the Harlequin.
The Harlequin entered the room, tall and imposing in his mask and cloak, and the fact that no man had ever managed to find out his true identity. He had ways and means, but while Drulovic had known this, it was debatable whether Haima would know. Irish smiled to himself, waiting for the TNG's leader to wake up properly from the sedatives and acknowledge the presence of the Harlequin.
"The Director is keeping things under control while you are injured." The man smoothly replies in a neutral tone. Nightmare's is the least you would expect from a man who has been through so much. But that he has at least one weakness was good. Drulovic had been an annoyance in that regard, impressively annoying. "I assume you have your suspicions as to who attacked you, as do I." He steps forwards, slowly turning to the right and walking around where Haima lay. "But really, knowing they can do this, how can you stay out of harms way?"
The Harlequin tut-tutted, grinning behind his mask. Haima, it seemed, didn't know his reputation. A rare thing, but not surprising in such a combat oriented person. "Guards and security measures aren't enough against what you're facing now. You are up against a more impatient enemy than that." He cocks his head to the side. "And you can ask Drulovic what I care. No doubt she could tell you very well."
He watched the display of activity as Haima tested out his newly healed body. The wonders of stealing the best part of the technology of several different factions made it easy to stay ahead of everyone technology wise. Well, not always. The newest phase of technology was the only thing he didn't have, which meant that each faction was only ahead of him in one place, and he was ahead most others... "Almost twelve hours." He smoothly replies. "But while I do not believe she will be so easy to hit, you are not a subtle target."
The Harlequin sighs. Where Drulovic had common sense and a good knowledge, and had read what he'd wanted and refused, Haima had pure stubbornness. Drulovic had given him little chance to put his own plan in motion. But he was good for a reason. His mind had quickly moved onwards from that plan. Subtle Target's comment was a dig. "You are very hard to hide, and hiding you would be impractical at the moment." Well, actually he thought it would be very practical, but this was not the matter at hand. "Rather, I am willing to make a deal with you....."
- Seen 23 Times • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2