Plans for the Future - Black Market (Hurricane and Doc. Morire)

The Black Market was not an easy area to get access to. The items for sale, trade and bartered on ranged from the weird to impossibly rare to find. Usually it was a place for the 'high rollers' to be invited in, to view the well prized objects. One such being that had constant invitations to view their materials was Hurricane. They knew he had money, though he was a wise money manager and wouldn't purchase frivolous things for monumental value. Really, the only things he was interested in were for use in moving forward his goals. Sometimes the things he would purchase would be scientific achievements that he wanted to study for personal reasons, but that was only if they piqued his curiosity. He had come far since the day of his capture by the Black Knight. A humiliating defeat, but one he learned a lot from. He couldn't take things by force so easily in the world he lived in. After his freedom was arranged, he made arrangements to simply buy what he needed.

Today, he was here for a few new additions to his laboratory for experiments. He had been making rapid progress in his genetic research as far as the 'metagene' is concerned, but needed new supplies and equipment. A man stopped him mid-stride to try and sell him a rare firearm that was capable of punching explosive rounds straight through tank armor.

"Hey mate, you won't find another one like this anywhere. Highly illegal, highly lethal. Only fired practice rounds. Works every time, can punch a hole straight through a meta!" He boasted, holding out the item as if he wanted Hurricane to grab it from him, and instantly be mesmerized by it's 'technologically sound design'.

"I'm not here for weapons." Hurricane said, making only slight head movements to indicate his disinterest with the product. He had developed his own technological advancements in weaponry so the things presented to him were a bit underachieving in comparison. He positioned himself in an auction of sorts where they were bidding on a medical tank designed to contain large specimens about 15 feet in height. The auction started at $30,000, but he waited for his chance to step in.

The doctor is sitting silently on a bench, wearing his black lab coat, his eyes watch closely as the bids rise.

35,000 dollars. 45,000 dollars. 50,000 dollars. Going up and up as various men bid for the monstrously large and heavy medical tank.

"One Hundred Thousand Dollars." The doctor says, voice cutting across the other bids. If I am going to create a lobster man for myself, I will need somewhere to store and restrain it...

The other bidders look at the doctor as if he were mad, The black staff laying flat across his knees keeps people from getting too close to him as he doubles the bid, driving it too high for most villains to bid again

Keeping his head cool, he waited for the anxious bidders to be done so that he could get down to the real bids. Rush, one of his associates who frequently served near him as a bodyguard was in the vicinity, but not in the bidding area. He kept a distant observation of the bidding war, looking repetitively towards Hurricane to see if he was either going to bid, or walk away. He knew his fortunes were high, but how much did he really want that tank? A slim man with a staff in the corner wearing glasses and a long black lab coat doubled a bid instantly, silencing most of the other bidders, showing how sincere he truly wanted this tank. For what purposes, people could only speculate.

Hurricane's eyes darted over towards the man, who had a staff laid upon his legs. Nobody sat close, and Hurricane was analyzing why. A staff indicated either a walking impediment or an instrument of battle. Which of the two, he would need to keep observing in order to determine. A few seconds went by, no other bidders were continuing past 100,000 dollars. It was a bit steep for the tank. A rare tank, indeed, but not one many were willing to go over the tank's value for. Even Hurricane wasn't irrational enough to bid out of sheer desire of the tank, but the man piqued his curiosity all the same. The auctioneer spoke at almost metahuman levels, asking for more bids. Going once, going twice...

"200,000." Hurricane said, changing his gaze from Morire to the auctioneer. It was merely a test, of course. The tank would serve a purpose at Hurricane's laboratory, but it wasn't worth the money he just bid on it. Rush looked in Hurricane's direction puzzled. He just doubled the bid that Morire had doubled in the first place. All the other bidders were either silent or grumbling. They had officially been outmatched by the two scientists financial means. All that remained was for Morire to either give up on his lobster-man creation, or let his desire overtake his rationality.

Mor turns his head, looking to Hurricane. Nodding his head in respect at the man who had made his bid insubstantial and inconsequential.

His spectacles reflect the harsh light, making his eyes mirrored by the glasses, the magic within the glasses enabling the doctor to see things that no other can. Looking at the man in the grey overcoat, dressed similarly to the doctor... Grey overcoat, dress shirt, slacks... All well made though. An extravagantly rich man... and Hurricane's synapses are firing at an alarming rate, looking like lightning compared to the other men in the area... Only three metas are in the room. The winning bidder, the doctor, and some man that is way in the back...

The doctor allows the tank to pass. the auctioneer's shout of "SOLD" echos slightly. The Black Doctor rises and walks to Hurricane.

"Impressive, sir. I was sure that I had it. Though I must ask, What do you plan to do with such a tank?" Mor asks quietly, while taking the seat next to Hurricane. Being nonthreatening and calm, then lays the staff across his legs, taking his hands off of it, so as to not be misunderstood in his intentions.

Hurricane anxiously awaited for something to happen, but it never came. His rush of amusement came at an abrupt end, as he thought he had seen something in the doctor that wasn't truly there. The tank was a rarity, and one of a kind, however not worth the money Hurricane spent on it. What Hurricane was testing was Doctor Morire's dedication to his work. The doctor chose the wiser portion, letting the tank pass. However, it proved that he was more reserved than truly interested in completing whatever task he wished to accomplish with the tank. Hurricane exhaled roughly through the nostrils with a slight scoff as the auctioneer declared him the winner of the auction.

The Doctor rose from his seat and began to approach Hurricane. As he did so, Hurricane took only a slight glance at his walk to see if he needed that staff to walk. It didn't take more than a glance to determine he didn't. Which led him to believe that it was an instrument for combat. Hurricane relaxed in his seat, but was in full control of what he thought the situation was. At any moment he could create a tempest of wind within the room. Although he wasn't really expecting a fight, he was ready for one. Many assassins had tried to claim his head. Something he was aiming to rectify in the near future with some of his plans. The doctor sat next to Hurricane and quizzed him of his intentions with the tank.

"Well, I definitely do not wish to resell it. I think we both know it's value is less than what was paid for. Therefore, you can deduce that I have personal reasons for the tank, as I assumed you did with your outlandish bid." Hurricane responded, relaxing his back against the seat and shifting his eyes at Doctor Morire.

"I'm a geneticist. And let's just say there are a few specimens that I frequently acquire that don't fit into... average experimentation tank sizes. To further study them, this tank would do nicely in my laboratory. But that isn't why I bid $200,000 to be honest. You made me curious by your bid. I could tell you wanted it, but I know now how badly." He said with a slight voice inflection of disappointment. It wouldn't last long, he was still interested from a scientist's point of view to know the other's work. Once Rush determined Doctor Morire was only engaging Hurricane for conversation, he walked out of the room and began to wander in another area of the Black Market. The other bidders began to leave the area, leaving the two alone briefly.

"I was willing to pay a slight fee to not have to go through the effort of having the tank specially made, but to pay the price you did, I could purchase a tank ten times that size, I am not willing to pay such a fee simply to 'win' a bidding war with you." Doctor Mor says while bowing his head with slight respect.

When Hurrican admits to having similar interests in the genetic world the doctor smiles slightly.

"You have scientific and genetic interests as well? Interesting....Currently I am working for Wong Enterprises, in their genetic research division." That ought to get his attention.

His response regarding the experimentation tank formed a smirk on his face, as he somewhat gave in to Doctor Morire's logic. The size of the tank wasn't the only thing that made its value. Quality, fine craftsmanship and intricate diagnostic systems made it more unique than just a 'large tank' that can hold a whale. But once again, Doctor Morire had let it go, so Hurricane would as well. It was still a conversation piece that brought them together. It wasn't often he met other scientists who excelled in the same field.

"Wong Industries. Very prosperous. I'm glad I invested stock when I did. But is that what your heart wants? To work for Wong Industries, or do you do your own research? I find it more likely you were trying to purchase that tank for yourself with your own funds, than waste your time as a representative. Or am I wrong?" he responded. He used his intelligence to invest, buying trading and selling not only stock, but the actual businesses and organizations themselves. It allowed him to keep detatched from them, but still make large profits. Still, his conversation was seeming more like an interrogation and he noticed it only after he stopped talking to wait for a response.

Doctor Mor tilts his head slightly, "Wong Industries serves its purpose, the frankly outrageous amount of money that they pay me to do what I would do for its own sake is a benifit as well, Representatives, Wong has in bulk amounts... Uniquely minded individuals such as myself... Well, we shall say that my motives do not mesh well with the mission statement of Miss Wong herself." The man in the black labcoat idly twirls his staff...

"And what sort of purpose does your heart seek?"