Personification Life - IC Part VIII [open]

[Lancearc]

"That sounds nice." Lance agreed with another friendly grin. "So..." he said, now a bit unsure of where to take the conversation. "How did you learn to play this strange thing?" he asked, standing from his throne and stepping over to lay a hand upon the piano.

"The piano?"

Dimitrus thought about it. She ran a finger across the keys as she did so, humming a small tune.

"well...I was about eleven years old, when I started playing at my school. A teacher taught me for a good while, and we would often stay late after school, playing. He taught me a lot."

It seemed that one of her faint smiles was forming.

"I bet you were very good at it, even then. So commoners enjoy this music, I hear." Lance commented, running his own hands over the keys of the instrument. "Do you think that you could perhaps teach me about this thing too?" he asked, turning the deep brown orbs that were his eyes towards her curiously.

[Swith Witherward]

The flight attendant dashed about and delivered hot plates of ramen to the passengers. She hummed happily as she did so, a slice of chocolate cake, and a cup of fruit accompanied the hot dish as well as a soft drink of their choice. Meanwhile, the Urranese news channel was babbling about how citizens were protesting the Branriech base being built on Oki island. Also, any prisoners of war had been returned to their home country and many had been given the best in medical care.

Meanwhile, in Swith Witherward...

The Lord Administrator for the War Council cleared his throat and took his place in the middle of the Collective Chorus’ Vesti, the main chambers of the Triumviratus. The Vesti was a dark chamber in which only eye shine identified the beings which held lofty governmental positions.

As Lord Administrator, he was sanctioned to speak for the Second Pillar of the Triumvir. The gentlebeings seated behind and above him were of his own Triumvir - the Proelium. He paused to gaze at the glittering eyes of the members of the Scientem and Diplomaticum. It was often difficult to get these two Trimvir to agree upon some resolutions, especially those that would cause military action.

Three pillars, one unity, one Collective Chorus which governed the people of the Witherward. How ironic that they’d not often gathered for such matters regularly. Yet they were assembled here and the Lord Administrator would need to give the best speech of his existence if things were to happen.

He held no notes in his hands. This would be off the cuff. The reading of words was considered empty in nature. How can one speak their mind if they’ve spent time carefully crafting a tailored response? No, it was better to speak openly and from the heart. He borrowed, in part, from several notable speeches studied long ago, and from their declarations of peace and duty he had heavily borrowed.

He drew a deep breath and allowed it to escape his nostrils slowly. He was the picture of calm and composed even though his hearts were fluttering in his abdomen.

“I have called the Collective Chorus into extraordinary session because there are serious, very serious, choices of policy to be made, and made immediately. As you know, the Proelium has been tracking the recent developments of war against our closest nation, Urran. This war has officially been called to an end yet the issue of compromise has given us the greatest concern for it entails the construction and occupation of a naval base which would grant the aggressors to the Urranese a foothold in this area of the dimension from which they would be capable of further striking out against the rest of humanity.

“This aggressor is The People's Unified Government of The BranRiech, a nation notorious for striking out against other great nations for the singular purpose of stripping away the native people’s right to their land and oppressing them under a unified government which is under BranRiech control. They have swept across Europe and have now taken to striking out as smaller islands for no other reason than to increase their size and subject the people to their government’s whims. They steal the natural resources and claim them for their own. There isn’t any telling what the oppressed people think of this; no information can be had once the curtain falls. I was for a little while unable to believe that such things would in fact be done by any government that had hitherto subscribed to the humane practices of civilized nations. International law had its origin in the attempt to set up some law which would be respected and observed by all nations for the sake of peace and propriety of those nations whereas no nation had right of unjust dominion or domination over another and where lay the free rights to exist as found in the rest of the world.

“This vulgar display of greed displayed by The People's Unified Government of The BranRiech has swept aside all conceived notions of a peaceful coexistence with the rest of the world. Indeed, their conquest had drawn the attention of the world to their very own front door. We have long refrained from geopolitics, being that it has never been our policy to involve ourselves in anything but rather to remain neutral throughout the history of Mankind on Earth.

“However, their wanton and ill-thought rampage of territory grabbing has now reached our own backyard and the construction and occupation of a naval base, per post-war treaties imposed upon the Urranese people, have them now kipping in our very own backyard. I highly doubt this base will be used as simply a refueling station for the casually passing BranRiech battleship. It would be impossible to employ this base as anything other than what it is: a military presence which will be as all their bases are, a manifestation of the lack of all scruples of humanity and a disruption of peace and rights which intercourse with the world’s nations.

“I am not now thinking of the loss of Urranese property involved, immense and serious as that is, but only of the wanton and wholesale destruction of the lives of non-combatants, men, women, and children, engaged in pursuits which have always, even in the darkest periods of modern history, been deemed innocent and legitimate by The People's Unified Government of The BranRiech. Property can be paid for; the lives of peaceful and innocent people cannot be. The present BranRiech naval bases is further promotion of a warfare against mankind.

“It is a war against all nations. The ships and people of other neutral and friendly nations shall be sunk and overwhelmed in the waters in the same way and this newly constructed base will increase the staging point for this heinous and brutal nation. If the BranReich holds true to form in its eternal thirst for conquest, there will be no discrimination or parlay. They will roll in, gentlebeings. They were roll in and take and take.”

The Lord Administrator paused to let those thoughts sink in to normally deaf ears. There was rustling in the dark. The other Two Pillars had grown uncomfortable as the threat he was laying before them. Good the Lord Administrator grumbled to himself. It’s about time you sons of bitches put aside your own agendas and paid attention! He drew breath again and spoke even more passionately, his voice rising and falling to emphasize his oration.

“The challenge is to all mankind. Each nation must decide for itself how it will meet it. The choice we make for ourselves must be made with a moderation of counsel and a temperateness for judgement befitting our character and our motives as a nation and as species. We must put excited feeling away. Our motive will not be revenge or the victorious assertion of the physical might of the nation, but only the vindication of right, of human right, of which we are only a single champion. We must do so for the sake of all those who might be injured by the BranRiech’s newfound method of military proximity.

“There is one choice we cannot make, we are incapable of making: we will not choose the path of submission and suffer the most sacred rights of our Nation and our people to be ignored or violated by this threat of BranRiech attack. The wrongs against which we now array ourselves are no common wrongs; they cut to the very roots of the human life of our closest nation, Urran. It is this nation that will fall when BranRiech enemies seek to destroy the naval base. This is inhumane! This is inexcusable! A nation such as Urran must not be made into a scapegoat by the greedy! We must rise up to defend them and, in doing so, defending the nations which would now be affected by having the BranRiech within striking distance! More so, we must defend our own best interests. This base is too close for comfort. I beseech you, harken to my words!

“With a profound sense of the solemn and even tragical character of the step I am taking and of the grave responsibilities which it involves, but in unhesitating obedience to what I deem my duty, I advise that the Collective Chorus declare the recent course of The People's Unified Government of The BranRiech to be in fact nothing less than war against the Triumvir and people of Swith Witherward; that it formally accept the status of belligerent which has thus been thrust upon it; and that it take immediate steps not only to put the country in a more thorough state of defense but also to exert all its power and employ all its resources to bring The People's Unified Government of The BranRiech to terms and end their malevolent thirst for world domination!

“What this will involve is clear: we must demand construction of this base ends. We must extend a hand of goodwill to the Urranese peoples, even if it means a generic treaty. Yea, long have we avoided extending treaties to any sovereign nation! However, the particulars of this treaty would only be referencing our unwillingness to strike them down unless they provoke us.”

He sensed the glittering eyes boring holes into him. There was a sense of anticipation in the room. It wasn’t a negative feeling. Rather, it was an energetic rippling that stirred their collective conscious. The Lord Administrator had never felt such unified synergy. He almost faltered, such was the intensity of their bristling.

“The only solution is to issue a letter of demand. If it is ignored, we must make a quick retaliation on the seat of their government. We shall not expend our good soldiers or slaughter their innocent ones. No, we must strike the head of the snake itself. We must engage in orbital bombardment. While we do this thing, this deeply momentous thing, let us be very clear, and make very clear to all the world what our motives and our objectives are. Our object now, as then, is to vindicate the principles of peace and justice in the life of the world as against selfish and autocratic power and to set up amongst the really free and self-governed peoples of the world such a concert of purpose and of action as will henceforth insure the observance of those principles.

“But let it be known that we have no quarrel with the BranRiech people. We have no feeling towards them but one of sympathy and friendship. It was not upon their impulse that their vulgar government acted in entering these wars and the conquest of other nations. It was not with their previous knowledge or approval. They are pawns of the state.

“We are accepting this challenge of hostile purpose because we know that in such a Government, following such methods, we can never have a friend; and that in the presence of its organized power, always lying in wait to accomplish we know not what purpose, there can be no assured security for the democratic Governments of the world.

“We are now about to accept gauge of battle with this natural foe to liberty and shall, if necessary, spend the whole force of the nation to check and nullify its pretensions and its power. We are glad, now that we see the facts with no veil of false pretense about them, to fight thus for the ultimate peace of the world and for the liberation of its peoples, the BranRiech peoples included: for the rights of nations great and small and the privilege of men everywhere to choose their way of life and of obedience.

“The world must be made safe for democracy. Its peace must be planted upon the tested foundations of political liberty. We have no selfish ends to serve. We desire no conquest, no dominion. We seek no indemnities for ourselves, no material compensation for the sacrifices we shall freely make. We are but one of the champions of the rights of mankind. We shall be satisfied when those rights have been made as secure as the faith and the freedom of nations can make them.

Just because we fight without rancor and without selfish object, seeking nothing for ourselves but what we shall wish to share with all free peoples, we shall, I feel confident, conduct our operations as belligerents without passion and ourselves observe with proud punctilio the principles of right and of fair play we profess to be fighting for.

“It is a distressing and oppressive duty, my fellow gentlebeings, which I have performed in thus addressing you on behalf of the Second Pillar of the Triumvir, the Academy of War itself. It is a fearful thing to lead this great peaceful nation into war. But nothing is more precious than peace, and we shall fight for the things which we have always carried nearest our hearts - for democracy, for the right of those who submit to authority to have a voice in their own Governments, for the rights and liberties of small nations, for a universal dominion of right by such a concert of free peoples as shall bring peace and safety to all nations and make the world itself at last free. We must not allow tyranny to reign! For the blood of the Urranese who fell in battle, and for the blood of children laughing in fields yet unspoiled by BranRiech villainy, we must strike!”

The Lord Administrator took a step back to indicate the completion of his speech. He expected grumbling or a quick dismissal. Instead, the sound of chairs scraping across the floor and the rustling of robes filled the room and then the clapping, the many hands slapping together to herald their owners’ support of his words, became music to his ears.

[Swith Witherward]

"We did not join Chaos out of a wish to serve it. Even in the fortieth millennium, there are warbands of Night Lords that act more in accordance of a Rogue Space Marine Chapter than they do a full Legion dedicated to the service of Chaos. The Night Lords freely joined in with the Rebellion when the Emperor declared our doctrine of brutality on worlds that refused to accept his rule as unsanctioned- despite the fact that something must obviously be done to those that resisted his will. Thus, it was common for the Night Lords to terrorize the planet and demolish the society- leaving few alive as an example to all other worlds. It was so effective that according to our history entire systems would surrender from our mere appearance. And yet the Emperor, being an ignorant fool, attacked our strategy. Thus we left freely. As for Konrad Curze surviving? No, he's quite dead. The Imperium Assassin made certain of that. And while his last request was to not avenge him- we damned his words and did so. The little assassin ended up with a chainsword being shoved through her gullet and turned on, courtesy of an Apothecary."

Volturius then chuckled at the idea of someone worshiping him, let alone for him being a prophet. It was an amusing concept that went completely against the stories he'd heard told by his father and other Night Lords who knew Curze while alive. He was certainly spinning in his grave if such was true.

"And no, worshiping him for his prophetic visions is just about the dumbest thing for a Chaos Cultist to do. Curze's visions, and those who inherited the trait- are not spawned by the warp. They're entirely different. Plus he'd hate the notion more than the Emperor did at the idea of humans worshiping him. More of an insult to the legacy, as tainted and mutated as Curze's is."

Tipper snorted. "I like your Primarch's way of thinking. It's a pity that he is truly dead, though. Think of how our times would change if he were still at the helm."

She had a greater understanding of Volturius now, and she found his legacy fitting. So many Chaos Space Marines were blind followers of their gods. Yes, Volturius did have a great respect for them, and they'd gifted him accordingly, but he wasn't mindless. He had a purpose in his heart that didn't exactly fall under a reptilian brain commanding him to smash everything in sight.

She wrapped her hand around a familiar wingtip and studied the talon and surrounding skin. "You should remain proud of your legacy and your Primarch," she counseled him, "It sets you and your brothers apart and makes them better. He was a true seer, and not subject to that taint. That's an incredible thing. It would have been an honor to meet him. But, I meet him through you, in a fashion. At least, it seems so."

She pressed her face against the fold of skin and closed her eyes as she relished the texture against her cheek. "Well, let's find the cultist Will, and then let's see what other people are up to?"

[The BranRiech]

"They'd totally go with us, but so much has changed since then. No more Zone, no more Mo-wait nevermind, same person, A lot of people are gone, or have changed a lot. It'll also be fun to show people who've never been there the island as well, the old base where the raptors made a lair at, the compound, and you'd have a reason to get Pookie out again."

Bran was in heaven, reminiscing about one of the cherished places in his heart, much like Swith. He thought that everything would suddenly get better if they went there, that everything negative would just . . . Disappear.

[Swith Witherward]

"They'd totally go with us, but so much has changed since then. No more Zone, no more Mo-wait nevermind, same person, A lot of people are gone, or have changed a lot. It'll also be fun to show people who've never been there the island as well, the old base where the raptors made a lair at, the compound, and you'd have a reason to get Pookie out again."

Bran was in heaven, reminiscing about one of the cherished places in his heart, much like Swith. He thought that everything would suddenly get better if they went there, that everything negative would just . . . Disappear.

Swith smiled even more as he mentioned the raptors' lair and Pookie swimming around freely again. "Don't forget the silly natives, and Dora swimming in the lagoon," she chuckled. "Oh, and chinchillas! Bran, we must do this! We simply must go back for Christmas! There are so many new residents who've never even seen the place! Think of all the fun things we used to get up to. And the beaches."

She peered over her seat to look at the backs of people's heads or at the few people standing to stretch their legs. She sat back down, childish delight radiating from her. "Let's announce it when we get a chance at the hotel. We'll recruit Torii and Katya, and Ogoti and Gio, and they can help us convince everyone back home."

[The BranRiech]

"Yeah, yeah!" Bran said and clapped rather loudly. He was truly happy, for probably the first time that day. "It's going to be a blast, I already want to start thinking of presents too!"

He took a sip of his water and sighed, now hungry, the same as his User.

"Where can we get something to eat?"

[Torsiedelle]

Katya had fallen asleep, and was leaning against Dora, snoring. Torii, however, was still awake, and poked her head up to see Bran and Swith.

"What about going back to the island?", She asked. Her eyes seemed to light up as well, but also carried a tinge of sadness.

.....

"I would not mind teaching you how to play.", Dimitrus nodded. "I believe you would enjoy it."

[Swith Witherward]

"Yeah, yeah!" Bran said and clapped rather loudly. He was truly happy, for probably the first time that day. "It's going to be a blast, I already want to start thinking of presents too!"

He took a sip of his water and sighed, now hungry, the same as his User.

"Where can we get something to eat?"

"I have liver in my bag, but it's raw," Swith said. "They did say there would be some meals. We can ask the flight attendant when she comes around again."

She poked her head up and smiled at Torii. "Christmas as the island again? Bran and I miss all the fun times there, and the wild things. Plus there's a bunch of new residents who haven't seen it."

She waved her hand to indicate Torii should come back and plot with them.

"We're thinking of waiting until after Turkey Eating Holiday. I think I'll bring hundreds of those electric lights that twinkle this time, and decorate all the huts with them. And we need to do a big tree right there at the pavilion. Maybe we could add all sorts of meaningful things to it. And we have to do a big dinner!"

[Torsiedelle]

"Ooooh, yea, that sounds awesome!", Said Torii as she ran up to the adults. "Me and my sister can stay in the Froxians' old hut...I loved that hut..."

She remembered the times there...she met Tsu first thing, had her early dealings with Bran, had her encounters with mad gods, natives, the raptors, met her first love, and spent her first. Christmas with friends. She was so rude and dirty back then...

[Swith Witherward]

"Ooooh, yea, that sounds awesome!", Said Torii as she ran up to the adults. "Me and my sister can stay in the Froxians' old hut...I loved that hut..."

She remembered the times there...she met Tsu first thing, had her early dealings with Bran, had her encounters with mad gods, natives, the raptors, met her first love, and spent her first. Christmas with friends. She was so rude and dirty back then...

Swith nodded and patted the empty seat next to her.

"It's a magical place full of so many good memories! Ogoti would probably stay at my compound, and Naomi and her family, but I'm going to stay in Thriller's old hut. If he's not back yet, I'll feel closer to him. The twins have never even seen the place. We just need to get everyone else on board for it. It's not Christmas unless the whole family is there, and if ya live in the building, you're family!"

She grinned at Bran. Gone were their bachelor days and funny forays into the halls, and wild sides... mainly because being parents made them behave a lot more responsibly... but that didn't mean they couldn't run around like old times and get up to no good.

"Plus, I've been dying for a campfire and one of Cuisine's fish cookouts. And ghost stories. Must do those!"

[The BranRiech]

"Ah, it'd going to be great to go back, ain't it? We spent about a month there, I remember." Bran chuckled as he watched the skies outside of their window, trying to check and see if he could see any othe rplanes in the skies, where nationality never mattered, it was just pilots. He barely knew the bond that was shared, but he knew someone who did know.

"Rylli." He whispered softly. "She'd love the view from up here." He murmured, somewhat worried of being away for so long. He sent his thoughts back to the island though, and smiled again.

"Chinchillas, you're right, Swith."

[Swith Witherward]

"Ah, it'd going to be great to go back, ain't it? We spent about a month there, I remember." Bran chuckled as he watched the skies outside of their window, trying to check and see if he could see any othe rplanes in the skies, where nationality never mattered, it was just pilots. He barely knew the bond that was shared, but he knew someone who did know.

"Rylli." He whispered softly. "She'd love the view from up here." He murmured, somewhat worried of being away for so long. He sent his thoughts back to the island though, and smiled again.

"Chinchillas, you're right, Swith."

Swith tilted her head. She held up her camera. "You should take a few pictures to show her and Rachelle. We'll take a bunch on the trip and then sit down in the communal rec room and do a slide show thing for everyone who couldn't go.

[Erucia]

"WHAT! That son of a bitch! I'll murder his face off!" Warfstashe screamed and dropped the phone. As the phone continued calling, it picked up a few shouts as Wilfred hijacked a golf cart and drove for the clinic. Of course he would be a source of several traffic jams and get lost twice before reaching the place.

"Mr. Warstache, that's not what I'd-", Ray's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he attempted to stop Wilfred from going to the clinic. However, when the sound of Wilfred running off and hijacking a vehicle from a few individuals was recorded, Ray hung his head in defeat and sighed. He really hoped that Wilfred didn't cause too much of a problem, as he would rather get paid. The SPRA may have been paying steadily, yet Ray didn't really get a whole lot of money left over after expenses that he shared with the brothers, so his detective work was a quintessential side business. For a few moments, he wondered what to do: however, he soon realized that it would be best to simply go to the clinic and stop Mr. Warfstache from getting himself killed.

Ray bolted up from his chair and donned his outing clothes within a few minutes: his typical white dress shirt and black dragon-design tie went on under a black vest, and a grey pair of slacks gave him decency in public. A trip to the armory gave him a brown shoulder holster and his typical .45 Caliber Operator alongside of it. He then ran off out of the armory and rushed off to his car, forgetting to say goodbye to Albert in his hurry. Around a half hour later, he arrived at the clinic and exited his car, looking around to see if Wilfred had arrived or not.

[Tiltjuice]

"I don't know how to make anything." Kei grinned, wanting to experiment with something. "ALways wanted to get into cooking." She smiled and jumped up after Tasia.

In the kitchen, the blonde began pulling open cabinet doors at random, looking for bowls, pots, pans, cutting boards and utensils. She eyed the jar of spaghetti sauce significantly.

"Pasta sound good? I think we should have that here - Chrys loves the stuff almost as much as Dr Pepper. No way she'd live in an apartment without it."

[Lancearc]

Katya had fallen asleep, and was leaning against Dora, snoring. Torii, however, was still awake, and poked her head up to see Bran and Swith.

"What about going back to the island?", She asked. Her eyes seemed to light up as well, but also carried a tinge of sadness.

.....

"I would not mind teaching you how to play.", Dimitrus nodded. "I believe you would enjoy it."

"Thank you, if you ever need anything just ask, since you are doing this for me." Lance said, though he became somewhat embarrassed then. "I mean, commoners do that kind of thing right? Return the favor, they say? I'm sorry force being so...I don't know the word but...I'm kind of new to this whole friendliness idea..."

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"WHAT! That son of a bitch! I'll murder his face off!" Warfstashe screamed and dropped the phone. As the phone continued calling, it picked up a few shouts as Wilfred hijacked a golf cart and drove for the clinic. Of course he would be a source of several traffic jams and get lost twice before reaching the place.

"Mr. Warstache, that's not what I'd-", Ray's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he attempted to stop Wilfred from going to the clinic. However, when the sound of Wilfred running off and hijacking a vehicle from a few individuals was recorded, Ray hung his head in defeat and sighed. He really hoped that Wilfred didn't cause too much of a problem, as he would rather get paid. The SPRA may have been paying steadily, yet Ray didn't really get a whole lot of money left over after expenses that he shared with the brothers, so his detective work was a quintessential side business. For a few moments, he wondered what to do: however, he soon realized that it would be best to simply go to the clinic and stop Mr. Warfstache from getting himself killed.

Ray bolted up from his chair and donned his outing clothes within a few minutes: his typical white dress shirt and black dragon-design tie went on under a black vest, and a grey pair of slacks gave him decency in public. A trip to the armory gave him a brown shoulder holster and his typical .45 Caliber Operator alongside of it. He then ran off out of the armory and rushed off to his car, forgetting to say goodbye to Albert in his hurry. Around a half hour later, he arrived at the clinic and exited his car, looking around to see if Wilfred had arrived or not.

A dented golf cart sat smashed against a car with shouts coming from inside the clinic.

[Urran]

The flight attendant dashed about again, delivering a noodle soup, cookies, candy, drinks, and fruit to anyone that wanted it. Her red hair swished around as she busied herself with making the passengers happy. Curse these long flights! "We shouldn't be in the air too much longer, maybe another 6 hours" she tried to assure them.

[Torsiedelle]

Katya had fallen asleep, and was leaning against Dora, snoring. Torii, however, was still awake, and poked her head up to see Bran and Swith.

"What about going back to the island?", She asked. Her eyes seemed to light up as well, but also carried a tinge of sadness.

.....

"I would not mind teaching you how to play.", Dimitrus nodded. "I believe you would enjoy it."

"Thank you, if you ever need anything just ask, since you are doing this for me." Lance said, though he became somewhat embarrassed then. "I mean, commoners do that kind of thing right? Return the favor, they say? I'm sorry force being so...I don't know the word but...I'm kind of new to this whole friendliness idea..."

"Friendliness?"

Dimitrus huffed. "Well, I can't say I'm used to it all that much, either. Oh, and there;s no reason to repay me for this. I enjoy music-related matters."

She cracked her knuckles and played a few more notes.

.....

"Ah, yes, we can mess with the people who've never been to the island before!", Torii beamed. "But wait, what about that one mad god, and all the crazy natives?"

[Lancearc]

"Thank you, if you ever need anything just ask, since you are doing this for me." Lance said, though he became somewhat embarrassed then. "I mean, commoners do that kind of thing right? Return the favor, they say? I'm sorry force being so...I don't know the word but...I'm kind of new to this whole friendliness idea..."

"Friendliness?"

Dimitrus huffed. "Well, I can't say I'm used to it all that much, either. Oh, and there;s no reason to repay me for this. I enjoy music-related matters."

She cracked her knuckles and played a few more notes.

.....

"Ah, yes, we can mess with the people who've never been to the island before!", Torii beamed. "But wait, what about that one mad god, and all the crazy natives?"

He took a seat on the bench next to her, eat hong as she pressed the keys upon the instrument. "So each of these creates a different note it seems." he observed with curiosity. "I feel like I should do something to repay you though, when I was sent here generosity was stressed..."

[Cerillium]

The flight attendant dashed about again, delivering a noodle soup, cookies, candy, drinks, and fruit to anyone that wanted it. Her red hair swished around as she busied herself with making the passengers happy. Curse these long flights! "We shouldn't be in the air too much longer, maybe another 6 hours" she tried to assure them.

(OOC: we'll slip in that Swith's character ducked out before "evening" in Bielefeld to tuck in her kids etc and returned)
Ogoti napped most of the flight. The engine noise and turbulence lulled him; he wasn't one for television or movies. He kept an ear on the conversations however.

---

Klaus surveyed the city from his rooftop perch. A bank robbery was in progress near the Downtown district but police were handling it; a mugger had the crap beaten out of him by two heroic middle school students and was being throw into the back of a police car; mothers kept watchful eyes on their children frolicking in the playground during the final run-up to the start of school; a famous movie star from the Country Next Door was in town for the release of her latest action adventure flick; youth in one of the low-income neighborhoods were fashioning a mural in tribute to life; there was a small-but-almost-contained warehouse fire in the Industrial District; the train was running a few minutes late; some idiot hand careened a golf cart into a car. Klaus shrugged at the normal Bielefeld afternoon.

There were odd, supernatural disturbances but this, too, was normal. He wondered how much longer his cultists and Minerva's Lads would need to tackle everything themselves. He reflected upon the offer made by the city a few months ago.

Movement caught his eye and he smiled. Chi was leading the twins down the street. They clutched school supply lists. He doubted that Eva would attend courses outside the home but Rachelle would certainly resume school soon. The twins were animated and laughing.

"Hello?"

Klaus turned to find an elderly lady clutching a watering can; she'd obviously come to tend her rooftop garden.

"Guten Tag," he swept his cap from his head and bowed to her.

She took in his uniform and accent. "Are we being invaded or am I dreaming about the War?"

"No," he reassured her, "neither. Would you like help watering your petunias?"

The old woman nodded her frail head and handed the can to him with a smile.

---

There were two things on Ozzall's mind at this point. Primarily, it was that the orders had come through. His Legion would be dispatched soon to deal with a Jedi coven discovered in the fringes of his home galaxy. As per usual conduct- the planet was not to be bombarded, but seized by troops. What the Sith wanted was they almost always got, and this time it was the information likely stored in the bowels of the subterranean Jedi hideout. That and force sensitives for them to indoctrinate into the Empire.

He didn't know whether to be joyful at the news of a rush of combat or terrified. Yes, they'd have heavy support- but he'd fought Jedi twice. It was a single individual. Nasty, agile warriors that chewed through ranks of men with frightening speed and lethality. Their reflexes sneered at the millisecond reactions of some of the best assassin droids ever created- for they were fueled by precognition. They already knew where you were going to be, how you were going to fight them, and how you were going to die. Even with Sith support.. Ozzall fumbled with the small, rectangular device that was his shield generator as he walked. He wanted this thing to be in perfect working order and ensure that he could at least tank one swipe of a Jedi's advanced laser-blade. Fearsome weapons. Used by his Sith masters as well, but they were on his side. Yes, he saw them in action on occasion, cutting through droves of enemy soldiers. A both beautiful and horrible sight. Beautiful in that the enemy was dying! Victory was assured as the morale of the enemy shattered by minute such a monstrous warrior entered the field. Frightening in that he could very easily put himself in the enemy's boots, and he knew that there was little defense against such beings. The idea of taking one with you didn't appeal either, as especially now with his experience with some luxuries of life. That fair. It was glorious. He slipped in during the middle of it, but it was quite wonderful. Fearful to as he knew the beings behind it dwarfed even his Sith masters in power- but such thoughts were completely overruled and forgotten by the simple electrical happiness spawned by it.

And it was for such reasons that he wished to certainly avoid any straight fight with Jedi. Life was good. Unlike his ancient predecessor clones- he could experience all of it. His life was not cut short, in fact, it was better. The Empire didn't like mass-produced Clones getting cancer and other diseases, and thus he only had to worry about it in old age, not youth. Sure, he lost out on a childhood, but it wasn't a worthy cause to whine about excessively. The only problem he had was being treated as fodder. Even as an officer, Sith were worth more. Navy Officers were worth more. That was what irritated him, that the lives of a hundred like him could be thrown into oblivion by but a single bad command.

Like this one.

Yes, he offered the recommendation and partial request of a combat mission on Jedi to the current Commander of the Five Hundred and First. It didn't change that he thought it was a stupid, emotional knee-jerk response that would likely cost him dearly if he dared to fault but once in combat. Especially against this foe. In the past, the Jedi might have even spared an enemy's life if they were neutralized as a threat. No longer. By being pushed to their very extinction, they became the wild boar backed into the corner of the brush by the hounds and their masters. It refused to die. Even if it had to sacrifice every single little cause it fought for, and would simply mirror its enemy- it did so. It cried out desperately against its imminent death and shattered the ranks of those that cornered it, refusing to die and fight ferociously for its survival. It would not die quietly, it would not die pathetically. If they were to perish, they would do so with a bang, never a whimper.

Rapid was the best way to describe it. In the past days he'd been studying combat footage, noticing a curious savage change in their behavior. Once studious warriors that even accepted death, this new, younger breed fought with the tenacity of his Sith Masters themselves, challenging them in combat even. While Imperial forces such as him fought a war of conquest, the Jedi and their followers now fought a war of survival and revenge. Even crippled, they remained a threat, taking every possible means of surviving and ensuring their breed did not perish.


And this reminded Ozzall of the second thing on his mind- ensuring his own survival. He, much like his enemy, refused to perish. Although this urge stemmed from tasting life at its best, enjoying it completely as it made all of his prior experiences pale in comparison. He was happy. He enjoyed it. He had a slight life of luxury now, people worth spending his savings on. It was good. Very good. And any son of a bitch that would attempt to tear him from it would suffer the best fight he could give.

Which was all the reason behind him leveling a heavy knock on the door to the Bielefield Observatory, hoping to gain an edge in the coming battle from the people he'd heard rumors and stories about behind the door.

The Brotherhood were a mixture of cultures and time periods. Predominantly human and male, they shared the common bond of the Machine God. They were at Breviary, the hour of Sext - midday prayer. This was accomplished as they lovingly tended their machines or else worked in the gardens. There were also Sisters but they sequestered themselves during Breviary as they focused their minds in the chapel just behind the Observatory.Their combined voices chanted litany in harmonious chorus and the song drifted in the air as Ozzall made his way towards the Observatory.

Young Brother Marcus, was passing through the foyer as the knock came. He paused in his chanting and opened the door to reveal the sunlit chamber and the a light scent of incense to the Stormtrooper. His hood obscured his face and his cloak was draped around his body, as was proper during the hours of prayer.

The Rassaphore peered at the man on the doorstep. He'd heard of him. He was curious about him as well. Some said he was a clone from a different time period. Others said he was a cruel and violent man. The rest shrugged heavy shoulders and adopted a live and let live mentality towards him.

"Welcome to Bielefeld Observatory, Stormtrooper" he spoke in a low, soothing voice. "How may we assist you today?"

[Erucia]

A dented golf cart sat smashed against a car with shouts coming from inside the clinic.

Ray's expression worsened and became a cross between fretting terror and sheer annoyance at the sight of the chaos. Fearing a conflict, he figured that the best thing to do would be to try and approach carefully and appearing unarmed: a coat left inside the car from his last trip served him well, covering up the firearm and shoulder holster. Upon feeling that he was properly dressed, Ray slowly began to approach the clinic. He passed the wrecked golf cart and sneered at it in a confused fashion, wondering if Mr. Warfstache was even in the right of mind. Losing your wife to someone else? Oh, it was understandable to be angry. Just not...steal a golf cart and drive across a highway to slam into a parked car angry. Perhaps it had something to do with Wilfred's 'I can do what the hell I want' upbringing.

Once he got to the clinic door, Ray peered inside as he pushed the door open to see what was going on inside of the lobby.

[Swith Witherward]

Far below the Earth’s mantle Maeta, the Lord Administrator for the War Council, strode through the concealed streets of the true seat of government. Far above and in real space, tourists ate roasted apples on sticks and snapped pictures of monuments to time periods and figureheads that never actually existed in the nation’s history. Ah, dear Swith Witherward, the tourist trap of the galactic quadrant. He seldom went to the surface. The skinless tumbler apes unsettled him. He preferred the city below which warbled in phasic space and remained a bastion against the primitive and violent species that claimed the planet as their home.

The Lord Administrator for Diplomacy was expecting him. Her offices were located in the structure dedicated to the Third Pillar of the Triumvir and contained the the Diplomaticum think tank. She lifted her delicate face to peer at her counterpart as he entered her chamber. Her gentle eyes were usually filled with mirth. Today they were windows to inner melancholy.

“Greetings, Maeta.” Her voice was as velvety soft as the rest of her species. “It really is a shame that we haven’t any diplomatic ties with this nation, nor do any of the ambassadors to our nation have ties with them. None-the-less, we have prepared our initial demands. This copy is for your records.” Her hand touched a sheet of paper and she slipped it across her desk towards the Tadaski male.

“Thank you, Luicillilindra,” Maeta chirped in response as he lifted the document with leathery fingers. The twin antennae tufts at the front of his face flickered forward in a display of gratitude. “I trust you’ll have assigned a human attaché?” His eyes skimmed the document and he nodded in approval of the contents.

“Yes, of course,” she bowed. “We want to put a stop to their conquest of this planet, not scare the fecal pellets out of them.”

His twin tufts slapped backwards against his sinus cavity to create a rhythmic drumming – laughter. “True, too true,” he chortled. “This we would not want. Thank you again, Luicillilindra. I have pressing matters to tend. You will, of course, notify us of their response?”

“Of course,” she bowed again. “But we have given the BranRiech a reasonable amount of time to open dialog with us.”

“An hour?”

“No,” she chuffed. “A week.”

---

The official letter arrived at the BranRiech seat of government. It bore all the usual seals and insignia of Swith Witherward and it contained a very brief message:

Whereas The People's Unified Government of the BranRiech has swept aside all conceived notions of a peaceful coexistence with the rest of the world, and whereas this nation has now chosen to construct a military instillation not far from our border with the purpose of using it as a fueling station thus acquiring occupancy of The Armed Anime Republic of Urran, our closest neighboring nation, and the fact that the People’s Unified Government of the BranRiech spreads itself across Europe and assimilates every nation it touches, we can only assume that a great and eminent threat to our nation is upon us;
Therefore be it Resolved by the Collective Chorus of the Triumviratus of the Glorious Borderlands of Swith Witherward, that the state of war between the the Glorious Borderlands of Swith Witherward and the People's Unified Government of the BranRiech will be formally declared unless the following demands are met:

1. Successful termination with regard to expansion and the theft of resources of sovereign nations.
   
2. Restoration of now-oppressed nations to their formerly sovereign standing prior to conquest by the People’s Unified Government of the BranRiech.
3. Immediate removal of the naval base located on the soil of The Armed Anime Republic of Urran.

Luicillilindra Thalalia
The Lord Administrator for Diplomacy, Representative of the Collective Chorus

Approved, August 22, 2013

---

The diplomatic attaché’s aircraft was difficult to miss on radar. The high-altitude supersonic jet bore the identification of a Swith Witherward vessel and its flight plan listed its destination as being the major airport in the capital city of the BranRiech. Its designator was “diplomatic” and it carried only a crew and the attaché himself.

The man settled back in his seat as the crew awaited clearance to land. There wouldn’t be any difficulties with the language barrier. His main concern was whether or not the BranRiech would make an attempt to seek resolution prior to a formal declaration of war. His mission was to open the lines of dialog should they be willing to do so.

Meanwhile, a message had been dispatched to the Prime Minister of the Armed Anime Republic of Urran with an offer to protect them and to assist them in any ways they deemed possible.

[The BranRiech]

"Aircraft on approach to OashgarGrad International, state your purpose and transmit a valid identification." The controller requested in English, sitting in the large tower of the airport, where someone nearby saw the designation, called the Political office to request a ride for whoever was on it, as well as several soldiers in case of a trap. Many nations have been threatening the nation recently, this one included.

"Landing cleared, please land on runway 2 following BranAir Flight 302's landing and exit of the runway."

He spoke in a heavy accent, as usual.

--

"Letter, ma'am."

The woman smiled as she sat at her desk, waiting for her secretary to deliver said letter.

"Actually, two letters, one from the Party congress, another from the nation of Swith Witherward." She shrugged, now confused as to why the mail was being sent at such a fast rate on a usually quiet friday.

The woman at the desk, Premier Asteroza Kovapak, sliced open the first letter with a small dagger, setting the paper on her desk while crumpling the envelope adorned with the Red Hammer and Sickle.

The Party would like to inform you . . .

It went on to read that the party that she was running the nation for was unhappy with the recent string of threats from various nations, Swith Witherward among them. It would seem that they were basically tightening the muzzle on their leader, tired of the direction she was taking in the hard-line stance on foreign policy.

--

Bran was still sitting down, watching out the window.

[New Aksarben]

After a while, Jacob had shifted to be reading while laying down on his couch, getting comfortable for the long trip to Urran. He was enjoying the relaxing trip, especially since he was able to get so much reading done as he had absolutely nothing else to do. But eventually, Jacob managed to doze off, with the book covering up the personification's face. His tail wrapped around his waist slightly as he slept. The only indicator that he had dozed off was that he was snoring very lightly through the book, and that one of his arms was resting against the floor. The personification was curled up slightly on the seat, to better fit on the surprisingly comfortable airplane seat. It was almost as nice as his bed at home! But not quite. Jacob preferred his own bed, but this would be fine for the next few hours.

[AETEN II]

The Brotherhood were a mixture of cultures and time periods. Predominantly human and male, they shared the common bond of the Machine God. They were at Breviary, the hour of Sext - midday prayer. This was accomplished as they lovingly tended their machines or else worked in the gardens. There were also Sisters but they sequestered themselves during Breviary as they focused their minds in the chapel just behind the Observatory.Their combined voices chanted litany in harmonious chorus and the song drifted in the air as Ozzall made his way towards the Observatory.

Young Brother Marcus, was passing through the foyer as the knock came. He paused in his chanting and opened the door to reveal the sunlit chamber and the a light scent of incense to the Stormtrooper. His hood obscured his face and his cloak was draped around his body, as was proper during the hours of prayer.

The Rassaphore peered at the man on the doorstep. He'd heard of him. He was curious about him as well. Some said he was a clone from a different time period. Others said he was a cruel and violent man. The rest shrugged heavy shoulders and adopted a live and let live mentality towards him.

"Welcome to Bielefeld Observatory, Stormtrooper" he spoke in a low, soothing voice. "How may we assist you today?"

Ozzall gawked at his surroundings- he'd heard odd notes about the observatory, but he didn't expect a temple for a technological hub. It was an odd reversal of the standard organization of things from his society- religious sights were either Sith, or devoid of most technology and any space was dedicated to their religion. An actual religion that surrounded technology itself? He had heard from the Chaos bar that it was something similar to this, but he didn't expect an, exact description.

Recovering slightly from the shock of their appearance and the inner workings of the building, Ozzall coughed and rubbed his hands together, hoping to dispel the awkward pause before answering the man's question.

"Yes? Well I've heard this is pretty-much the technological hub of the city. To cut it short, do you build customized weapons/sell advanced weapons. I'm in bit of need for a sidearm to fight an enemy soon that's quite tricky to put down and well, there's going to be a lot of 'em and I'd like to come out of the fight alive. Money really isn't an issue. People like me don't really have a reason to make use of their paycheck. Maybe a tech trade even? Also, I was wondering if you could possibly boost the functioning of some tech as well. The foe I'll be deployed against is again, just well, tricky in a fight. Precognition gives them a significant edge and I rather like this city and would prefer to return to it in something besides an urn."