To Kill a God, Chapter 1: Chimera Tower (IC)

[Isle of Lithonia]

As Memoir neared the door containing all the childerbeasts, he thought that he should sing a song, to brighten the childerbeasts' mood. So without a moment's hesitation, he started roaring out children's songs. As each line finished, the voice came closer and closer to the door.
"Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full."
He was about half way to the door when he suddenly switched to a more somber tone.
"One for the master,
One for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane."
The sound of his eerie singing could still be heard, but there was a happier tone to it.
"Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?"
There was a significant pause in the singing as Memoir felt hatred boiling up from the bowels of his soul. He smashed the door open started shouting at the wreckage of the door, "I FUCKING TOLD YOU HOW MANY BAGS OF WOOL I HAVE YOU SHIT EATING FUCKWIT!!!", before turning to face his his master's master, some blithering fuckwit named Karlson. Or something. Memoir didn't have a mind for names, or much of a mind at all. People all ways said he'd lost it. But He didn't lose it. They took it from him. They took everything from him. They made him the mad man that he was, and he'd get revenge. Soon enough. Revenge would be his. Once he found their base inside his mind, they'd rue the day they crossed him. All OF THEM! Memoir started cackling maniacally. "So we meet again, MY MASTER'S MASTER! WHAT a PLEASURE... It is to MEAT MEET you! Again."

When Karlson heard Memoir's voice, he grinned. Ah, the maniac comes.

He turned to look at the Demon when it entered, smiling at it. "And it is good to see you, Memoir. You've got an impeccable sense of timing.

"Let me finish this and then I can introduce you to the kiddies."

Clarence was worried. Raven had looked like the competitive type from the start, but this was insanity. "She's going to get ripped apart, right?"
"Absolutely," replied Boali. "Especially now that she fused with her Familiar. Karlson won't be putting on gloves anymore. But, Clarence, you shouldn't ..."
It was too late: Clarence stood up, hands behind his back, and said loudly, "SIR! Permission to speak, sir!"

Karlson looked in Clarence's direction, glaring at him. "Permission denied. And don't even think about it, unless you want to play with Memoir."

Raven could feel everyone eyes waiting on her obvious demise. Secretly she was feeling scared herself, but Aria's excitement drowned out her worries." They don't realize that this is something I didn't want I wanted to empress them with our fighting ability. Each one of them if I back down now I'll be not her more then trash." Raven thought this to herself only to have Aria respond.

"Look at it this way Raven, this will tell who behind us have real guts to in trust our lives to. I may have forced you in this position though if we are able to land a few hits we'll earn his respect hopefully. In the worst case scenario well get a lot of broken bones." Aira announced with in Raven's head though her focus never left their opponent for one second.

The moment Clarence opened his mouth about wanting to speak. Raven and Aria's anger explode with both voices speaking at the same time with out looking at him." Clarence look at our position we asked for a fight and this kind gentleman stepped forward. If we back down our existence would be nothing more than trash in their eyes and ours. We rather earn respect through our fist then be a lap dogs following every order like a mindless dolls." At that moment Raven's body ran towards Karlson. Almost upon him she jumped in the air to kick him in the head.

As Raven leapt into the air, she stopped mid-kick, being held immobile by a telekinetic attack. Karlson's glowing eyes narrowed at her, and his voice turned as cold as his blood. "If an opponent gives you an advantage, take it, no matter what the fuck your shitty 'honor code' demands. I gave you a huge advantage with that pistol, and I am appalled that you were too proud to take it. You believe in a fair fight? I can tell you this: you can bet that the people trying to kill you won’t give a damn about a ‘fair fight’. In the real world, it is kill or be killed. If your shitty honor code doesn't allow you to take every advantage that comes your way, even shooting an unarmed man, you will die as a result. Death isn't a respecter of honor, and neither am I."

He held his hand outstretched towards the hovering, immobile girl, his forefinger and thumb forming a mock, cocked pistol. His face revealed the current state of his mind: emotionless. "I have no respect for fuck-ups that think too highly of themselves and their honor."

His thumb fell down, mimicking a hammer on a gun. As it did so, he said, "Bang."

Raven's head snapped backwards, her neck breaking with a crack. Her lifeless body fell to a heap on the ground as her soul was flung into the realms of Hell. Karlson put down his "pistol", and walked over to her. He bent over her, his fingers tracing a line from her forehead to her lips. What a waste of a beautiful body.

He took a deep breath, using Lightheart’s power to send a telepathic message through the gates of Hell to Raven’s dead spirit, "Let this be your first lesson, Raven: do whatever it takes to defeat your enemy, even if it means fighting dirty.

“Now, I don't give a damn if you respect me or not. In fact, fuck your respect. I swore to Balaam that I would train you to survive this war, and I intend to do so. If it is the last fucking thing I do, I will make you and the rest of these dipshits into killers, 'cause only then will you be able to survive the shit that's waiting for you.

"Now, as the Keeper of Lady Lightheart, I implore the god of this universe, Lucen the Seraph, to return this wandering soul to her body. Grant her life once more."

When he ended his telepathic connection with Hell, Raven's head fit back into place, and all her bones joined once more. All the bumps and bruises, all the scars and scrapes, and even all the strain in her muscles were instantly healed as energy flowed through Karlson's hand and into Raven. When she was put back together again, he placed his hand over her mouth, forming a makeshift funnel. He blew into it, filling her lungs with air. As he did, her heart began to beat again, and she started breathing. At that point, her spirit returned to her now living body, and her eyes fluttered open to look at Karlson. Although she wouldn't be in any pain, she most definitely would not have much energy left.

So, he sat up, giving Raven some space. His face was dark, but his voice wasn't as cold as before. "Don't cross me again, kid. Next time, I won't be so merciful."

He turned to the rest of the kids. "I hope all of you will learn from this as well. If you're pissed off, I don’t give a damn. But know that this is the world that you are in now. If you're going to survive, you need to do whatever it takes to both eliminate your enemies, and gather allies to help you survive. If you don't learn that lesson soon, you will die, and I won’t be there to resurrect your sorry asses.

"Oh and don't make the same mistake of speaking without my express permission. The lack of respect for this camp's rules from now on will be punished harshly by Memoir, our new Moral Enforcer."

He looked at Laura. "Laura, take this girl to the uppermost apartment in the first complex. Just in case you begin wondering why it is so well-furnished, it's my apartment. So don't you dare screw around with my stuff in there. Take her to the bedroom, and let her sleep in the bed. When you are finished, head to the firing range."

Are you planning on sleeping with her, Karlson?

Hell no. I'll sleep on the couch tonight.

He could feel Lightheart’s urge to roll her eyes at him. So, first you mercilessly kill her, and then you give up your bed for her to sleep in? Your thought processes are just fucked up.

At that point, he really had nothing to reply with, except, Shove it up your ass.

Jackie was apathetic towards the enraged screaming at his and the other group, and followed along with the others into the gym when they were instructed to do push-ups. The teen smirked at this, knowing almost exactly how this was going to go. Je, just like at my old dojo, knuckle push-ups, yeah! Heh heh. Please, PLEASE don't do anything... you know... rash. Walter separated from his master, stepping a few steps back politely as he watched everything unfold. John, however, snapped into a salute and shouted "JAWOHL, HERR KOMMANDANT", before falling onto his knees and then onto his knuckles to do push-ups on his fists, with a smug look of confidence in knowing how things would go. Walter sighed, preparing for the worst. John did his push-ups carefully and slowly, so that he could do as many as he could. He mumbled to himself as he did the push-ups as an amusing way of controlling his breathing. "Ein Fisch, zwo Fisch, roter Fisch, blauer Fisch "EIN, Fisch. ZWO, Fisch. ROTER, Fisch. BLAUER, Fisch. EIN, Fisch. ZWO... Fisch. Roter... Fisch. Blauer... FICK!" During the eighth push-up, Jackie's muscles turned in their resignation and gave up around seven seconds before the end of the time limit, not giving enough strength to lift up the skinny teen. John fell on his face, unphased by the medium pain of falling a small distance onto his nose. He sighed, giggling to himself almost silently. Je, just like at my old dojo. Thankfully, his old work at the dojo had his knuckles hard so knuckle push-ups were of identical difficulty to regular ones, however it still wasn't enough to even accomplish half the intended goal. While doing push-ups on his knuckles might earn him a few points, failing to reach even half the intended goal when everyone else succeeded with flying colors was definitely going to bring the wrath of Hell. In this case, quite literally. After the whistle went off and the time was over, he used his leg muscles to prop himself up, his face supporting a third of his weight, and then swung his legs around to the front so he was sitting up, after which point he stood up so he wouldn't be kicked in the face while he was down. Not that standing up would change anything in the bootmarks-on-the-face department.

He almost burst out laughing when the inhuman demon burst through the door, psychotically rambling about sheep and their wool, but managed to suppress it to a giggle. As for the duel about to take place, he watched in amusement with a smirk while his soon-to-be punisher would likely teach Raven a lesson about confidence.

After his fight, Karlson looked at Jackie and growled, "So, wussbag, you didn't even make it halfway?! Get the fuck down into push up position again, and start over!!"

[The Templar High Council]

Maiso's jaw dropped at the fight. He expected one-sided, but that was a little terrifying how easy Karlson killed, then resurrected, Raven. Two things were going through his mind: don't piss off his superiors, and he really wanted to learn how to do that.

When the slaughter finished, Maiso looked at a guy down the line who was lying on his face, and heard Karlson say something about not doing half. Seriously? Not even 10? I could do 10 on a bad day. He heard the order for Jackie to start over, and remained emotionless on the outside, yet was grinning like an idiot inwardly.

[Mnar Secundus]

Clarence sat down immediately upon hearing Karlson's order. Don't even think about it? Too late for that. Ah, well. He was impressed at how easily Karlson killed Raven, though.
"That could have been you," thought Boali, shuddering at the thought.
Clarence wasn't disturbed. "No. Karlson isn't insane. I rigorously obeyed the rules and gave him no grounds to punish me. If he punishes someone who didn't do anything to deserve it, he will simply destroy his war machine."
"Karlson may not be insane, but Memoir is, that I can assure you. Please ... please don't try anything like that again." The little girl sounded genuinely scared.
Clarence decided that he should make an effort to reassure her. "Fine, I got it, I won't do it again."
"I need guarantees."
"Well then, what about this? I'll buy you a box of donuts for every time I break this promise. Deal?"
Boali looked up at him, falsely exasperated. "You really are just waiting for an occasion, aren't you? Well, I realize I won't be able to stop you anyway, so this is the best I'm going to get. Deal." They shook hands mentally.
Clarence was genuinely surprised that there was a young man here who hadn't managed to do even ten push-ups in one minute. He isn't even fat. How does that work? Boali merely smiled inwardly.

[Imperial--japan]

While all this was happening, Anthony finally got himself out of the machine room he spent most of his time in, and went to meet the new arrivals outside. When he arrived at the SUVs, he realized he was too late. Though he did see Selena pulling someone out of her car. He sauntered over and decided to say hi. "Miss Da' Ravielle. Good to see you." He tipped his patrol cap in her direction, wearing a tank top and jeans, average attire for him working in the garage. "What's been going on since y'all left a couple days ago? I thought you said you were bringing kids here?"

Selena let go of the corpse she was carrying and turned her attention towards Anthony. She gave him her usual 'hello' smile and accidentally let the corpse fall on its face. When she resurrected the kid, she hoped all his teeth would be intact. Lasting damage would teach the little shit who died a lesson though. A swift kick to his side solved that.

"We did. They're currently training with Karlson since I remembered I left one of the trainee's in my trunk. If you're looking for them, they're in the training area". Selena explained.

"This ungrateful grunt thought it would be funny to disrespect Mr. Balaam. Though I can't say I meant to kill him. I'll likely bring him back to life a little later," the secretary said.

"What about you Anthony? I trust you're well"? Selena asked.

---

Lavi didn't complain about the push-ups when Selena had left to attend to more personal business. She knew already that Karlson was a 'no-bullshit' type of guy, but that didn't stop Lavi from just being herself. In fact, the optimist didn't start her push-ups until Karlson had challenged Raven. Lavi had wanted to intervene and tell everyone to just get along, but that would of probably put her in an early grave. Anyone looking at her could tell she was anxious, and this was a result of her wanting to talk to Karlson.

[Hetland 2]

When Karlson heard Memoir's voice, he grinned. Ah, the maniac comes.

He turned to look at the Demon when it entered, smiling at it. "And it is good to see you, Memoir. You've got an impeccable sense of timing.

"Let me finish this and then I can introduce you to the kiddies."

Memoir's insane grin grew, showing teeth more fit to be in a shark's mouth than a human's. "OF course I DO! I'm always on time, in time, around time, inside time, beside time, and eating time! Time tastes delicious if you put it on sparrow and puppy meat!" He started laughing like a demented psycho again,

Karlson looked in Clarence's direction, glaring at him. "Permission denied. And don't even think about it, unless you want to play with Memoir."

Memoir stopped laughing, but his grin just widened, nearly splitting his face, He slowly turned his head and looked at Clarence, "I've got a fun game! We could play Russian Roulette with a Glock 19 and see who comes out alive! I can even go first!"
However his attention was rapidly turned to someone else, much less fortunate.
His eyes which normally smoldered with white flames turned red. "You... YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!" He picked up his target by the throat, squeezing his throat tightly. "YOU MUST BE ONE OF HER AGENTS SENT TO TORTURE ME UNTIL YOU CAN SEE THE LETTERS IN MY BRAIN! NOT IF I GET YOU FIRST YOU DAMN FUCK WIPE!" Spittle flew out of Memoir's fanged mouth as he continued to rant and rave at Jack.

[Charmera]

As Memoir neared the door containing all the childerbeasts, he thought that he should sing a song, to brighten the childerbeasts' mood. So without a moment's hesitation, he started roaring out children's songs. As each line finished, the voice came closer and closer to the door.
"Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full."
He was about half way to the door when he suddenly switched to a more somber tone.
"One for the master,
One for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane."
The sound of his eerie singing could still be heard, but there was a happier tone to it.
"Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?"
There was a significant pause in the singing as Memoir felt hatred boiling up from the bowels of his soul. He smashed the door open started shouting at the wreckage of the door, "I FUCKING TOLD YOU HOW MANY BAGS OF WOOL I HAVE YOU SHIT EATING FUCKWIT!!!", before turning to face his his master's master, some blithering fuckwit named Karlson. Or something. Memoir didn't have a mind for names, or much of a mind at all. People all ways said he'd lost it. But He didn't lose it. They took it from him. They took everything from him. They made him the mad man that he was, and he'd get revenge. Soon enough. Revenge would be his. Once he found their base inside his mind, they'd rue the day they crossed him. All OF THEM! Memoir started cackling maniacally. "So we meet again, MY MASTER'S MASTER! WHAT a PLEASURE... It is to MEAT MEET you! Again."

When Karlson heard Memoir's voice, he grinned. Ah, the maniac comes.

He turned to look at the Demon when it entered, smiling at it. "And it is good to see you, Memoir. You've got an impeccable sense of timing.

"Let me finish this and then I can introduce you to the kiddies."

Clarence was worried. Raven had looked like the competitive type from the start, but this was insanity. "She's going to get ripped apart, right?"
"Absolutely," replied Boali. "Especially now that she fused with her Familiar. Karlson won't be putting on gloves anymore. But, Clarence, you shouldn't ..."
It was too late: Clarence stood up, hands behind his back, and said loudly, "SIR! Permission to speak, sir!"

Karlson looked in Clarence's direction, glaring at him. "Permission denied. And don't even think about it, unless you want to play with Memoir."

Raven could feel everyone eyes waiting on her obvious demise. Secretly she was feeling scared herself, but Aria's excitement drowned out her worries." They don't realize that this is something I didn't want I wanted to empress them with our fighting ability. Each one of them if I back down now I'll be not her more then trash." Raven thought this to herself only to have Aria respond.

"Look at it this way Raven, this will tell who behind us have real guts to in trust our lives to. I may have forced you in this position though if we are able to land a few hits we'll earn his respect hopefully. In the worst case scenario well get a lot of broken bones." Aira announced with in Raven's head though her focus never left their opponent for one second.

The moment Clarence opened his mouth about wanting to speak. Raven and Aria's anger explode with both voices speaking at the same time with out looking at him." Clarence look at our position we asked for a fight and this kind gentleman stepped forward. If we back down our existence would be nothing more than trash in their eyes and ours. We rather earn respect through our fist then be a lap dogs following every order like a mindless dolls." At that moment Raven's body ran towards Karlson. Almost upon him she jumped in the air to kick him in the head.

As Raven leapt into the air, she stopped mid-kick, being held immobile by a telekinetic attack. Karlson's glowing eyes narrowed at her, and his voice turned as cold as his blood. "If an opponent gives you an advantage, take it, no matter what the fuck your shitty 'honor code' demands. I gave you a huge advantage with that pistol, and I am appalled that you were too proud to take it. You believe in a fair fight? I can tell you this: you can bet that the people trying to kill you won’t give a damn about a ‘fair fight’. In the real world, it is kill or be killed. If your shitty honor code doesn't allow you to take every advantage that comes your way, even shooting an unarmed man, you will die as a result. Death isn't a respecter of honor, and neither am I."

He held his hand outstretched towards the hovering, immobile girl, his forefinger and thumb forming a mock, cocked pistol. His face revealed the current state of his mind: emotionless. "I have no respect for fuck-ups that think too highly of themselves and their honor."

His thumb fell down, mimicking a hammer on a gun. As it did so, he said, "Bang."

Raven's head snapped backwards, her neck breaking with a crack. Her lifeless body fell to a heap on the ground as her soul was flung into the realms of Hell. Karlson put down his "pistol", and walked over to her. He bent over her, his fingers tracing a line from her forehead to her lips. What a waste of a beautiful body.

He took a deep breath, using Lightheart’s power to send a telepathic message through the gates of Hell to Raven’s dead spirit, "Let this be your first lesson, Raven: do whatever it takes to defeat your enemy, even if it means fighting dirty.

“Now, I don't give a damn if you respect me or not. In fact, fuck your respect. I swore to Balaam that I would train you to survive this war, and I intend to do so. If it is the last fucking thing I do, I will make you and the rest of these dipshits into killers, 'cause only then will you be able to survive the shit that's waiting for you.

"Now, as the Keeper of Lady Lightheart, I implore the god of this universe, Lucen the Seraph, to return this wandering soul to her body. Grant her life once more."

When he ended his telepathic connection with Hell, Raven's head fit back into place, and all her bones joined once more. All the bumps and bruises, all the scars and scrapes, and even all the strain in her muscles were instantly healed as energy flowed through Karlson's hand and into Raven. When she was put back together again, he placed his hand over her mouth, forming a makeshift funnel. He blew into it, filling her lungs with air. As he did, her heart began to beat again, and she started breathing. At that point, her spirit returned to her now living body, and her eyes fluttered open to look at Karlson. Although she wouldn't be in any pain, she most definitely would not have much energy left.

So, he sat up, giving Raven some space. His face was dark, but his voice wasn't as cold as before. "Don't cross me again, kid. Next time, I won't be so merciful."

He turned to the rest of the kids. "I hope all of you will learn from this as well. If you're pissed off, I don’t give a damn. But know that this is the world that you are in now. If you're going to survive, you need to do whatever it takes to both eliminate your enemies, and gather allies to help you survive. If you don't learn that lesson soon, you will die, and I won’t be there to resurrect your sorry asses.

"Oh and don't make the same mistake of speaking without my express permission. The lack of respect for this camp's rules from now on will be punished harshly by Memoir, our new Moral Enforcer."

He looked at Laura. "Laura, take this girl to the uppermost apartment in the first complex. Just in case you begin wondering why it is so well-furnished, it's my apartment. So don't you dare screw around with my stuff in there. Take her to the bedroom, and let her sleep in the bed. When you are finished, head to the firing range."

Are you planning on sleeping with her, Karlson?

Hell no. I'll sleep on the couch tonight.

He could feel Lightheart’s urge to roll her eyes at him. So, first you mercilessly kill her, and then you give up your bed for her to sleep in? Your thought processes are just fucked up.

At that point, he really had nothing to reply with, except, Shove it up your ass.

Laura didn't even flinch when Raven was killed. Partly because she knew it was going to happen, though she did think he might just beat her to death, partly because death didn't really shock her much. Never had, even as a child. Did that mean something in her was broken? Something that everyone else had?

Jack shook his head. What was she thinking? He thought to himself. Did she think something else might happen? Honestly this was the best case possible and it's still pretty shitty...

Marcus seemed visibly irritated when Karlson had said things about honour. Though Marcus' ideas of honour were a little different from this girl, he could see there might be some conflict down the road. Hopefully it wouldn't come into conflict soon, as he valued loyalty above most else.

Laura bent over and picked up Raven. She was light, light enough that carrying her did not exert her much. Jim fused with her to help lighten the load a little, so they could finish the task quickly. Laura then walked at a brisk pace to the door which would lead her to the first complex.

I wonder what dying is like, I may ask her later... Jane wondered aloud, natural curiosity getting the better of her.

When Karlson heard Memoir's voice, he grinned. Ah, the maniac comes.

He turned to look at the Demon when it entered, smiling at it. "And it is good to see you, Memoir. You've got an impeccable sense of timing.

"Let me finish this and then I can introduce you to the kiddies."

Memoir's insane grin grew, showing teeth more fit to be in a shark's mouth than a human's. "OF course I DO! I'm always on time, in time, around time, inside time, beside time, and eating time! Time tastes delicious if you put it on sparrow and puppy meat!" He started laughing like a demented psycho again,

Karlson looked in Clarence's direction, glaring at him. "Permission denied. And don't even think about it, unless you want to play with Memoir."

Memoir stopped laughing, but his grin just widened, nearly splitting his face, He slowly turned his head and looked at Clarence, "I've got a fun game! We could play Russian Roulette with a Glock 19 and see who comes out alive! I can even go first!"
However his attention was rapidly turned to someone else, much less fortunate.
His eyes which normally smoldered with white flames turned red. "You... YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!" He picked up his target by the throat, squeezing his throat tightly. "YOU MUST BE ONE OF HER AGENTS SENT TO TORTURE ME UNTIL YOU CAN SEE THE LETTERS IN MY BRAIN! NOT IF I GET YOU FIRST YOU DAMN FUCK WIPE!" Spittle flew out of Memoir's fanged mouth as he continued to rant and rave at Jack.

Well, I guess I may find out now. She said inside Jacks mind, making Jacks eyes widened as he saw the demons rage at him Memoir. More insane that a museum of Salavador Dali paintings being copied by Hannibal Lector. And if I'm not mistaken we're going to be his next...

Jack struggled as Memoir rung his neck, trying to get some leverage against Memoir himself, but failing. The madman's grip was tight, and he had the advantage of strength.

...rage target. Yeah thats not good...

You know him? Get him to stop!

I can try... She replied "Excuse me, but I'm fairly sure he needs to breath. Mind letting go of my host before he passes out?"

Yeah, reason probably won't work on Dr.Insano over here. She replied, fusing with Jack Well, the ball is in your court now. Get us out of this pickle.

What? Can't you do more?

Nothing that will work, though I wouldn't ask stupid questions, you don't have much time.

Jack mentally cursed as he thought quickly. Suddenly an idea came to him, something that may at least buy time. As his vision began to grow fuzzy, he stopped struggling, stopped making noise and used his illusionary power from Jane to camouflage himself with his surroundings, rendering him effectively invisible (Though if he moved then they might notice something off). Hoping to confuse the madman to either buy some time or have him let go completely.

Laura
Laura looked back at the boy chocking for a second, before continuing out the door, still carrying raven. Who was that? Another Demon?

That was Memoir, Jim explained, in thought He may seem insane, but if you get to know him, you may find that he is completely insane.

Was that suppose to be a joke? You surprise me more and more Jim She replied.

Your a human, it doesn't take much to surprise you. He replied You know, I actually kinda like Memoir...Never could tell what he would do next...

Laura shrugged mentally. Surprising, we actually found someone you don't hate. She replied mentally, opening the door and making her way to the first complex.

[The Templar High Council]

While all this was happening, Anthony finally got himself out of the machine room he spent most of his time in, and went to meet the new arrivals outside. When he arrived at the SUVs, he realized he was too late. Though he did see Selena pulling someone out of her car. He sauntered over and decided to say hi. "Miss Da' Ravielle. Good to see you." He tipped his patrol cap in her direction, wearing a tank top and jeans, average attire for him working in the garage. "What's been going on since y'all left a couple days ago? I thought you said you were bringing kids here?"

Selena let go of the corpse she was carrying and turned her attention towards Anthony. She gave him her usual 'hello' smile and accidentally let the corpse fall on its face. When she resurrected the kid, she hoped all his teeth would be intact. Lasting damage would teach the little shit who died a lesson though. A swift kick to his side solved that.

"We did. They're currently training with Karlson since I remembered I left one of the trainee's in my trunk. If you're looking for them, they're in the training area". Selena explained.

"This ungrateful grunt thought it would be funny to disrespect Mr. Balaam. Though I can't say I meant to kill him. I'll likely bring him back to life a little later," the secretary said.

"What about you Anthony? I trust you're well"? Selena asked.

"Oh, I can't complain. Not with my little pet project in the garage and all." Anthony noticed the corpse Selena was 'taking care of' and smiled. He knew how Selena acted when Balaam was involved. Hell, you could practically see her knees weakening around the Boss. No one said anything, but everyone knew.

"Anyways, you don't think Karl would mind if I stepped in to watch for a bit, would you? Or I could give you a hand with that corpse there?" Though he said this, Anthony much preferred messing with the new kids than helping Selena. He felt like it was his duty as a man to offer his help, though.

[Imperial--japan]

Selena let go of the corpse she was carrying and turned her attention towards Anthony. She gave him her usual 'hello' smile and accidentally let the corpse fall on its face. When she resurrected the kid, she hoped all his teeth would be intact. Lasting damage would teach the little shit who died a lesson though. A swift kick to his side solved that.

"We did. They're currently training with Karlson since I remembered I left one of the trainee's in my trunk. If you're looking for them, they're in the training area". Selena explained.

"This ungrateful grunt thought it would be funny to disrespect Mr. Balaam. Though I can't say I meant to kill him. I'll likely bring him back to life a little later," the secretary said.

"What about you Anthony? I trust you're well"? Selena asked.

"Oh, I can't complain. Not with my little pet project in the garage and all." Anthony noticed the corpse Selena was 'taking care of' and smiled. He knew how Selena acted when Balaam was involved. Hell, you could practically see her knees weakening around the Boss. No one said anything, but everyone knew.

"Anyways, you don't think Karl would mind if I stepped in to watch for a bit, would you? Or I could give you a hand with that corpse there?" Though he said this, Anthony much preferred messing with the new kids than helping Selena. He felt like it was his duty as a man to offer his help, though.

Selena thought for a moment and shrugged.

"I don't really think he'd mind. Besides, I have the corpse here under control," she reassured. Selena grabbed it by the arm and started to pull. Damn whatever pain this fellow felt when he woke up. It didn't matter to her. For all she cared, this shithead had already made her shit list.

"Do me a favor and try not to let Karlson and lightheart kill them all just yet. Balaam is expecting results, and it's difficult to do if they're broken beyond all repair," Selena chuckled at the prospect of all the trainees fleeing in fear of Karlson this early. It reminded her of a certain 'choose your own adventure game' from a while back.

[The Templar High Council]

"Oh, I can't complain. Not with my little pet project in the garage and all." Anthony noticed the corpse Selena was 'taking care of' and smiled. He knew how Selena acted when Balaam was involved. Hell, you could practically see her knees weakening around the Boss. No one said anything, but everyone knew.

"Anyways, you don't think Karl would mind if I stepped in to watch for a bit, would you? Or I could give you a hand with that corpse there?" Though he said this, Anthony much preferred messing with the new kids than helping Selena. He felt like it was his duty as a man to offer his help, though.

Selena thought for a moment and shrugged.

"I don't really think he'd mind. Besides, I have the corpse here under control," she reassured. Selena grabbed it by the arm and started to pull. Damn whatever pain this fellow felt when he woke up. It didn't matter to her. For all she cared, this shithead had already made her shit list.

"Do me a favor and try not to let Karlson and lightheart kill them all just yet. Balaam is expecting results, and it's difficult to do if they're broken beyond all repair," Selena chuckled at the prospect of all the trainees fleeing in fear of Karlson this early. It reminded her of a certain 'choose your own adventure game' from a while back.

"Right. I'll see you later." Anthony followed the path that Karlson lead the kids through, and kicked open the door the same way Memoir did earlier. Though he wasn't spouting nursery rhymes, he entered without a word and stood adjacent to Karlson. "What's up, sir? Having fun with these underdeveloped soldiers?"

[Nekronia]

Jackie had his hands raised to start clapping after the finale of the deadly match, grinning to himself at the painful results, but dropped his grin when he was informed that he had to perform more push-ups. Whether said clapping was to mock Raven's suicidal and poorly thought-out attempt or to commend Karlson's actions, not even Jackie knew. It was probably a healthy helping of both. However, he was QUITE amused with Memoir's madness, and had to physically hold his own tongue to prevent spouting a reference from an old shooter game he used to play when he was young. Shaking off the thought, Jackie got down on the ground on his knuckles for a second round, and began again. Uuuuugggggh, this is boriiiing. The short break was enough to help at least a little bit, and the teen tried to blitz through before his pain and muscles caught up with him. He got to five push-ups before he wasn't able to go on, but intense frustration and will kicked in, so he managed to get in thirteen push-ups down in around 65 seconds before his muscles gave out again and forced his face to plop into the flooring again. The nerd sighed quietly again, the pain of the unusually hard work-out and falling on his face twice kicking into his body further. He got up on his knuckles again with a frustrated look on his face, ready to try to succeed at this task. A task the wimp would likely not be able to accomplish that day, but one he was trying to do in the face of all odds.

Walter was worried at the cripplingly poor state of Jackie's strength, and quite scared or unnerved by some of his comrades, Karlson, Memoir, and Stephanie being rather notable. This didn't show on his slightly-grey, dead face, but inside he was close to shaking in his boots. He merely stood there watching, smoking his cigarette as everything went to shit around him, the fear reaching his heart and mind but not his face.

[Achidyemay]

Lord Pouton retreated inside of Conor when Karlson started yelling. The duo watched him talk to Selena for awhile.
What do you think our score will be? the Lord inquired. Conor didn't bother to reply to the redundant question and instead went inside the gym with the rest of the group. He lined up in front of Karlson and waited for instructions. Push-ups. Conor groaned internally, running was easy, but push-ups? Push-ups were tough, some-what pointless, really. Pouton wasn't much more excited, he was of the opinion that push-ups were the worst thing to be invented in his time. Nevertheless, they began on Karlson's whistle. Pouton separated from Conor's body, but only partially, giving the impression that he was sitting on Conor's shoulders while being totally weightless himself. After the third push-up though, he was bored of this and started doing them on his own to the right of Conor. Conor was starting to struggle after his tenth push-up and completed, sweating vigorously, somewhere a little after twenty (he was to tired to count). Pouton was arguably more or less fit than Conor, he was of advanced age but not to the point where it began to seriously degrade his upbringing which had included more exercises than Conor's.

Raven challenged Karlson as Conor was finishing his push-ups. He was actually surprised to find himself rooting for the girl and shook his head internally when she threw away the gun. He would have gladly taken the only weapon provided, it would have made the fight more fair. The gun obviously didn't matter though, the fight was swift as it was one sided and Conor seriously doubted she would have been able to get off a shot before he dispatched her. It was awesome to see him re-animate her, even Conor had to admit, and it was nice to see that he actually could do it. Conor turned to look at Pouton and was hardly surprised to find the man had payed little attention to the "Main-Event" that had just taken place, what did irk Conor was the smile that was slowly spreading across the old man's face.
Do you hear that?
What?
The beautiful, bass voice floating over the air. Conor listened and heard it: the words to the children's rhyme "Baa Baa Black Sheep". And the voice was getting louder, quickly, before its finale of the Hulk smashing through the gym doors and Pouton's face-splitting grin matching that of the door-destroyer's.
Who is that? Conor asked, fighting the urge to flee for his life. Pouton obviously knew him.
That is Memoir. and he is the best Madman in Hell, I look up to the guy.
The best Madman?
Yes. He's much like myself, but absent my merciful nature and sense of fair play.
Turning back to the after math of the fight, Conor was displeased to see Karlson ordering to have Raven taken to his rooms.
His Motives seem highly unsavory. Conor didn't want to dwell on the subject, but the other subject, Memoir, was equally displeasing. However, his attention was forced onto the brute when he began to lift up one of the men Conor had seen earlier. Lord Pouton sat down cross-legged and feigned eating popcorn.
This is going to be good. He thought, after several seconds he frowned and looked down at his hands, wondering why popcorns hadn't ended up in his mouth. He returned to the action, stuffing his traitorous hands in his armpits, the entire affair soiled for him.

[Hetland 2]

Well, I guess I may find out now. She said inside Jacks mind, making Jacks eyes widened as he saw the demons rage at him Memoir. More insane that a museum of Salavador Dali paintings being copied by Hannibal Lector. And if I'm not mistaken we're going to be his next...

Jack struggled as Memoir rung his neck, trying to get some leverage against Memoir himself, but failing. The madman's grip was tight, and he had the advantage of strength.

...rage target. Yeah thats not good...

You know him? Get him to stop!

I can try... She replied "Excuse me, but I'm fairly sure he needs to breath. Mind letting go of my host before he passes out?"

Yeah, reason probably won't work on Dr.Insano over here. She replied, fusing with Jack Well, the ball is in your court now. Get us out of this pickle.

What? Can't you do more?

Nothing that will work, though I wouldn't ask stupid questions, you don't have much time.

Jack mentally cursed as he thought quickly. Suddenly an idea came to him, something that may at least buy time. As his vision began to grow fuzzy, he stopped struggling, stopped making noise and used his illusionary power from Jane to camouflage himself with his surroundings, rendering him effectively invisible (Though if he moved then they might notice something off). Hoping to confuse the madman to either buy some time or have him let go completely.

Memoir roared in fury, his mouth begining to foam from his insane rage. His grip only tightened on the boy's invisible throat.
Another voice, this one distinctly british, was shouting profanity. A soldier stormed into the room, holding a sniper rifle. "Memoir, you fucking cunt! I'll give you your fuckin' present for ditching me in a GOD DAMN STRIP CLUB!"
BANG
The bullet entered Memoir's head, causing it to explode as his body slumped to the ground. The soldier slung the rifle over his shoulder, and pulled out a large revolver and kicked Memoir's body, as it landed firing several rounds into his body. "You bleedin' prick! Lessee ya get up after that!"
He stomped repeatedly on the body, before turning about. "Sorry 'bout that Cap'n. I tried ta get here on time, but Memoir demanded to see the fuckin' beach. Said he'd never been there. When he got there he started screamin' at a buoy and seagulls. I turn to head here and he was eating the bleeding things."

[Charmera]

Well, I guess I may find out now. She said inside Jacks mind, making Jacks eyes widened as he saw the demons rage at him Memoir. More insane that a museum of Salavador Dali paintings being copied by Hannibal Lector. And if I'm not mistaken we're going to be his next...

Jack struggled as Memoir rung his neck, trying to get some leverage against Memoir himself, but failing. The madman's grip was tight, and he had the advantage of strength.

...rage target. Yeah thats not good...

You know him? Get him to stop!

I can try... She replied "Excuse me, but I'm fairly sure he needs to breath. Mind letting go of my host before he passes out?"

Yeah, reason probably won't work on Dr.Insano over here. She replied, fusing with Jack Well, the ball is in your court now. Get us out of this pickle.

What? Can't you do more?

Nothing that will work, though I wouldn't ask stupid questions, you don't have much time.

Jack mentally cursed as he thought quickly. Suddenly an idea came to him, something that may at least buy time. As his vision began to grow fuzzy, he stopped struggling, stopped making noise and used his illusionary power from Jane to camouflage himself with his surroundings, rendering him effectively invisible (Though if he moved then they might notice something off). Hoping to confuse the madman to either buy some time or have him let go completely.

Memoir roared in fury, his mouth begining to foam from his insane rage. His grip only tightened on the boy's invisible throat.
Another voice, this one distinctly british, was shouting profanity. A soldier stormed into the room, holding a sniper rifle. "Memoir, you fucking cunt! I'll give you your fuckin' present for ditching me in a GOD DAMN STRIP CLUB!"
BANG
The bullet entered Memoir's head, causing it to explode as his body slumped to the ground. The soldier slung the rifle over his shoulder, and pulled out a large revolver and kicked Memoir's body, as it landed firing several rounds into his body. "You bleedin' prick! Lessee ya get up after that!"

Jack lay on the floor breathing deeply, his back stung with pain when he hit the floor, but that just told him he was very much alive. He quickly squirmed away from the demons body after it fell. His hand instinctively went to the pocket that had his knife, but he realised it wasn't there, having left it in his luggage after the incident before.

He got up, breathing deeply. Still a little in shock. "Per-Permision to speak..." he asked, dazed, but not stupid. He composed himself, coughing a little. Some of the blood had gotten into his mouth.

Im lucky that happened, otherwise I would have had to go for plan B. If the invisibility didn't work, he was planning to blind Memoir with a bright illusionary light, but he suppose he could still be choked. Plus it would also blind him, so running would be much harder.

[The Templar High Council]

Well, I guess I may find out now. She said inside Jacks mind, making Jacks eyes widened as he saw the demons rage at him Memoir. More insane that a museum of Salavador Dali paintings being copied by Hannibal Lector. And if I'm not mistaken we're going to be his next...

Jack struggled as Memoir rung his neck, trying to get some leverage against Memoir himself, but failing. The madman's grip was tight, and he had the advantage of strength.

...rage target. Yeah thats not good...

You know him? Get him to stop!

I can try... She replied "Excuse me, but I'm fairly sure he needs to breath. Mind letting go of my host before he passes out?"

Yeah, reason probably won't work on Dr.Insano over here. She replied, fuck Well, the ball is in your court now. Get us out of this pickle.

What? Can't you do more?

Nothing that will work, though I wouldn't ask stupid questions, you don't have much time.

Jack mentally cursed as he thought quickly. Suddenly an idea came to him, something that may at least buy time. As his vision began to grow fuzzy, he stopped struggling, stopped making noise and used his illusionary power from Jane to camouflage himself with his surroundings, rendering him effectively invisible (Though if he moved then they might notice something off). Hoping to confuse the madman to either buy some time or have him let go completely.

Memoir roared in fury, his mouth begining to foam from his insane rage. His grip only tightened on the boy's invisible throat.
Another voice, this one distinctly british, was shouting profanity. A soldier stormed into the room, holding a sniper rifle. "Memoir, you fucking cunt! I'll give you your fuckin' present for ditching me in a GOD DAMN STRIP CLUB!"
BANG
The bullet entered Memoir's head, causing it to explode as his body slumped to the ground. The soldier slung the rifle over his shoulder, and pulled out a large revolver and kicked Memoir's body, as it landed firing several rounds into his body. "You bleedin' prick! Lessee ya get up after that!"
He stomped repeatedly on the body, before turning about. "Sorry 'bout that Cap'n. I tried ta get here on time, but Memoir demanded to see the fuckin' beach. Said he'd never been there. When he got there he started screamin' at a buoy and seagulls. I turn to head here and he was eating the bleeding things."

"Conrad. Nice to see you." Anthony nodded to his other comrade, dealing with his tempermental familiar (emphasis on the MENTAL). He knew how the two could be, yet they could usually pull it together for a fight. After watching the spectacle for a few more seconds, he turned to the children who seemed to be doing nothing, and decided to motivate them. "What are you little shits sitting around for!? I've you've got time to stare, you've got time to train! Sit-ups! Now! 1 minute! GO!" Tony let loose a loud whistle, and forced the kids to get to work.

[The Floating Island of the Sleeping God]

Though all of this, Krouse had managed to keep his head down and stay unobtrusive. He did the push-ups adequately, he resisted the urge to chant "fight fight fight" at Karlson and the challenger and again at the urge to break out laughing when the girl tried to be a character in a Kung Fu movie, throwing down the gun and opening with a flying kick. It was considerably easier not to laugh after Karlson made the transition from 'mean superior' to 'outright subordinate-killing super villain.' He even managed to keep from vomiting all over the floor at the sickening crack of a teenage girl being murdered in front of him. He looked at his fellow recruits. How am I the only one freaking out about this? Who the fuck are these people, these teenagers who aren't phased by someone dying right in front of them? Sit-ups. Those were good. Something to keep his mind off of the fact that his new boss seemed almost comically vindictive and short-tempered. That he was now a member of a crime syndicate. Should've stayed home. Should've gotten an internship for the summer and a degree in finance like all of the people who aren't ten feet away from a demon who's gone off the deep end. He looked to Jack for support, the old soldier's face an unreadable mask, brow creased as though deep in thought.

Jack was about ready to get up and leave. He had been a man with a sense of justice who spent the prime of his life fighting against the worst of humanity. Now, he wondered if this was really the best of it. These people and their demons. If these teenagers were what humanity had left to offer, if some of their masters---his masters---were a foul mouthed oaf who led through fear and a man who kept his partner in check through violence, was humanity really worth saving? It was a grim thought, and one he had been trying to push out of his mind for hours. Unfortunately, Karlson was making it difficult for him to think of anything but how much worthier humans had been in his time. Perhaps it was nostalgia, perhaps the world had left him behind on a darker path. Either way, Jack Churchill was not happy with his new allies.

[Mnar Secundus]

"Sit-ups? For one minute?" Clarence was starting to feel mildly offended, and that was very bad. Memoir's nearby presence, even as a corpse - and what the hell had that been about? - wasn't helping him keep his mind together, either. "Boali, if this is how Hell trains its troops, we are doomed. Only that Jackie guy could fail this."
"Look, just do it, alright?" Boali sat down at his side, wrapped her arms around her knees and observed him as he completed 54 sit-ups effortlessly. Then she coiled herself around his arm to re-establish the telepathic link: "How did you do more sit-ups than push-ups? I thought they were supposed to take longer."
"Lower body and abdominal strength is more important in martial arts than upper body strength, so I've trained it more. I assume those are our other superiors?"
"Anthony Corbin and Conrad Stern."
"They seem nicer than Karlson, not to mention Lightheart, but why would anyone enter a contract with Memoir?"
"Good question. It's the topic of some popular debate in Hell. Someone tried to ask Memoir once, but he ... bit his head off, so nobody knows."
Clarence shook his head derisively, and waited for the rest of the training to come along.

[Isle of Lithonia]

"Right. I'll see you later." Anthony followed the path that Karlson lead the kids through, and kicked open the door the same way Memoir did earlier. Though he wasn't spouting nursery rhymes, he entered without a word and stood adjacent to Karlson. "What's up, sir? Having fun with these underdeveloped soldiers?"

Karlson looked over at Corbin, his mood somewhat sour. "Good evening Sgt. To be honest, certain of these fuckbags are really pissing me off. I just finished smearing someone's fucked-up attitude across the floor, and now I'm dealing with a pansified jackass that can't even make twenty pushups."

Jackie had his hands raised to start clapping after the finale of the deadly match, grinning to himself at the painful results, but dropped his grin when he was informed that he had to perform more push-ups. Whether said clapping was to mock Raven's suicidal and poorly thought-out attempt or to commend Karlson's actions, not even Jackie knew. It was probably a healthy helping of both. However, he was QUITE amused with Memoir's madness, and had to physically hold his own tongue to prevent spouting a reference from an old shooter game he used to play when he was young. Shaking off the thought, Jackie got down on the ground on his knuckles for a second round, and began again. Uuuuugggggh, this is boriiiing. The short break was enough to help at least a little bit, and the teen tried to blitz through before his pain and muscles caught up with him. He got to five push-ups before he wasn't able to go on, but intense frustration and will kicked in, so he managed to get in thirteen push-ups down in around 65 seconds before his muscles gave out again and forced his face to plop into the flooring again. The nerd sighed quietly again, the pain of the unusually hard work-out and falling on his face twice kicking into his body further. He got up on his knuckles again with a frustrated look on his face, ready to try to succeed at this task. A task the wimp would likely not be able to accomplish that day, but one he was trying to do in the face of all odds.

Walter was worried at the cripplingly poor state of Jackie's strength, and quite scared or unnerved by some of his comrades, Karlson, Memoir, and Stephanie being rather notable. This didn't show on his slightly-grey, dead face, but inside he was close to shaking in his boots. He merely stood there watching, smoking his cigarette as everything went to shit around him, the fear reaching his heart and mind but not his face.

Karlson bent over and screamed in Jackie's ear, "Goddamned pussy! What the fuck did you do with your life?! Sit on your ass eating Doritos and j***ing off to Desperate Housewives?! Get your fucking shit into gear, you useless fucktard! You're not leaving until you either make twenty pushups in a row, or you vomit across the floor! Get the fuck ready, and begin!!!"

Memoir roared in fury, his mouth begining to foam from his insane rage. His grip only tightened on the boy's invisible throat.
Another voice, this one distinctly british, was shouting profanity. A soldier stormed into the room, holding a sniper rifle. "Memoir, you fucking cunt! I'll give you your fuckin' present for ditching me in a GOD DAMN STRIP CLUB!"
BANG
The bullet entered Memoir's head, causing it to explode as his body slumped to the ground. The soldier slung the rifle over his shoulder, and pulled out a large revolver and kicked Memoir's body, as it landed firing several rounds into his body. "You bleedin' prick! Lessee ya get up after that!"
He stomped repeatedly on the body, before turning about. "Sorry 'bout that Cap'n. I tried ta get here on time, but Memoir demanded to see the fuckin' beach. Said he'd never been there. When he got there he started screamin' at a buoy and seagulls. I turn to head here and he was eating the bleeding things."

Karlson turned to look at the man, nodding. "I'll forgive you, Conrad. Just make sure to keep a slightly tighter leash on him. I don't want to resurrect too many kids on the first day."

He turned to the kids. "Now, let me introduce these two. The dead, but soon to be living, Demon is Memoir. Lightheart decided that he'd make the ideal Moral Enforcer. In other words, it is his job to make sure that you little dipshits follow the rules and orders of your superiors to the letter. If he finds you so much as making wise cracks about us, he'll punish you." He made sure to emphasize and draw out the word "punish".

"The man with a rifle is his host, Conrad Stern. He's basically in charge of the weapons stash and making sure you kiddos don't run out of ammunition. Although he may seem tame compared to Memoir, don't piss him off, 'cause he's quite a marksman."

"Conrad. Nice to see you." Anthony nodded to his other comrade, dealing with his tempermental familiar (emphasis on the MENTAL). He knew how the two could be, yet they could usually pull it together for a fight. After watching the spectacle for a few more seconds, he turned to the children who seemed to be doing nothing, and decided to motivate them. "What are you little shits sitting around for!? I've you've got time to stare, you've got time to train! Sit-ups! Now! 1 minute! GO!" Tony let loose a loud whistle, and forced the kids to get to work.

Karlson rubbed his temples, as if he actually had a headache. "Thanks Corbin. When they're done with that, how about you take them to the firing range for a little target practice. I've got to deal with the pansy before I can head over there.

"And make note of how good they do, 'cause I'll want a full report later."

[The Templar High Council]

"Right. I'll see you later." Anthony followed the path that Karlson lead the kids through, and kicked open the door the same way Memoir did earlier. Though he wasn't spouting nursery rhymes, he entered without a word and stood adjacent to Karlson. "What's up, sir? Having fun with these underdeveloped soldiers?"

Karlson looked over at Corbin, his mood somewhat sour. "Good evening Sgt. To be honest, certain of these fuckbags are really pissing me off. I just finished smearing someone's fucked-up attitude across the floor, and now I'm dealing with a pansified jackass that can't even make twenty pushups."

Jackie had his hands raised to start clapping after the finale of the deadly match, grinning to himself at the painful results, but dropped his grin when he was informed that he had to perform more push-ups. Whether said clapping was to mock Raven's suicidal and poorly thought-out attempt or to commend Karlson's actions, not even Jackie knew. It was probably a healthy helping of both. However, he was QUITE amused with Memoir's madness, and had to physically hold his own tongue to prevent spouting a reference from an old shooter game he used to play when he was young. Shaking off the thought, Jackie got down on the ground on his knuckles for a second round, and began again. Uuuuugggggh, this is boriiiing. The short break was enough to help at least a little bit, and the teen tried to blitz through before his pain and muscles caught up with him. He got to five push-ups before he wasn't able to go on, but intense frustration and will kicked in, so he managed to get in thirteen push-ups down in around 65 seconds before his muscles gave out again and forced his face to plop into the flooring again. The nerd sighed quietly again, the pain of the unusually hard work-out and falling on his face twice kicking into his body further. He got up on his knuckles again with a frustrated look on his face, ready to try to succeed at this task. A task the wimp would likely not be able to accomplish that day, but one he was trying to do in the face of all odds.

Walter was worried at the cripplingly poor state of Jackie's strength, and quite scared or unnerved by some of his comrades, Karlson, Memoir, and Stephanie being rather notable. This didn't show on his slightly-grey, dead face, but inside he was close to shaking in his boots. He merely stood there watching, smoking his cigarette as everything went to shit around him, the fear reaching his heart and mind but not his face.

Karlson bent over and screamed in Jackie's ear, "Goddamned pussy! What the fuck did you do with your life?! Sit on your ass eating Doritos and j***ing off to Desperate Housewives?! Get your fucking shit into gear, you useless fucktard! You're not leaving until you either make twenty pushups in a row, or you vomit across the floor! Get the fuck ready, and begin!!!"

Memoir roared in fury, his mouth begining to foam from his insane rage. His grip only tightened on the boy's invisible throat.
Another voice, this one distinctly british, was shouting profanity. A soldier stormed into the room, holding a sniper rifle. "Memoir, you fucking cunt! I'll give you your fuckin' present for ditching me in a GOD DAMN STRIP CLUB!"
BANG
The bullet entered Memoir's head, causing it to explode as his body slumped to the ground. The soldier slung the rifle over his shoulder, and pulled out a large revolver and kicked Memoir's body, as it landed firing several rounds into his body. "You bleedin' prick! Lessee ya get up after that!"
He stomped repeatedly on the body, before turning about. "Sorry 'bout that Cap'n. I tried ta get here on time, but Memoir demanded to see the fuckin' beach. Said he'd never been there. When he got there he started screamin' at a buoy and seagulls. I turn to head here and he was eating the bleeding things."

Karlson turned to look at the man, nodding. "I'll forgive you, Conrad. Just make sure to keep a slightly tighter leash on him. I don't want to resurrect too many kids on the first day."

He turned to the kids. "Now, let me introduce these two. The dead, but soon to be living, Demon is Memoir. Lightheart decided that he'd make the ideal Moral Enforcer. In other words, it is his job to make sure that you little dipshits follow the rules and orders of your superiors to the letter. If he finds you so much as making wise cracks about us, he'll punish you." He made sure to emphasize and draw out the word "punish".

"The man with a rifle is his host, Conrad Stern. He's basically in charge of the weapons stash and making sure you kiddos don't run out of ammunition. Although he may seem tame compared to Memoir, don't piss him off, 'cause he's quite a marksman."

"Conrad. Nice to see you." Anthony nodded to his other comrade, dealing with his tempermental familiar (emphasis on the MENTAL). He knew how the two could be, yet they could usually pull it together for a fight. After watching the spectacle for a few more seconds, he turned to the children who seemed to be doing nothing, and decided to motivate them. "What are you little shits sitting around for!? I've you've got time to stare, you've got time to train! Sit-ups! Now! 1 minute! GO!" Tony let loose a loud whistle, and forced the kids to get to work.

Karlson rubbed his temples, as if he actually had a headache. "Thanks Corbin. When they're done with that, how about you take them to the firing range for a little target practice. I've got to deal with the pansy before I can head over there.

"And make note of how good they do, 'cause I'll want a full report later."

"Sir, yes sir." Anthony nodded, and crouched down to watch the kids do the exercises. He had no real reason for ordering the exercises, but he didn't want the kids getting placid. Inactivity leads to being accustomed to things, which leads to letting your guard down.

Never let your guard down.

He was sure to learn that lesson real quick.

"Now I wasn't introduced by the Boss Man, so I'll do it myself. I am SERGEANT Anthony Corbin. Don't forget the Sergeant. I will respond only to Sarge, or Sergeant Corbin. Formerly of the United States Marine Corps. I'll be one of your instructors, majoring in ballistic weaponry and teamwork essentials." Anthony spoke loudly and clearly, so that not a word would be missed. "I don't care what you think of me. My goal isn't to make friends with you all. My goal is to teach you how to kill. And I will do so, until instructed otherwise. I hope my words are clear, and that we can operate smoothly without further interruptions." Glancing towards the recently dead girl, he was sure they understood what he meant. "Minimum, I'm expecting 30 sit ups from the ladies, and 35 from the boys. Standard for teenagers. But since you all are special, knock it up by 5 for both. That's 35 from the girls and 40 from the boys." He finished speaking, and watched as the kids finished the workout.

---

Maiso groaned at the sound of more exercises. What was the point if nothing came out of it? Regardless, he did what was asked, and managed 42 pushups, a little more out of breath than he was previously.

"I'm glad they're making you do this now. Teaches you kids discipline."

"Fuma, why don't you do the workouts too?" Maiso asked, after a deep breath to refill his lungs.

"For one, I'm dead. For two, I could outperform all of you children, so why should I?"

"Discipline."

Fuma sighed. "I already have that, child. As well as respect, which you occasionally seem to lack.

"I try." Maiso retorted, wiping beads of sweat from his brow. "I give what is earned."

[Nature-Spirits]

Sander stared, enthralled, as Karlson snapped Raven's neck. He had to admit that, even though it was kind of scary, the way the Lieutenant killed and proceeded to resurrect the girl so easily was pretty hot. He wondered what that felt like. Maybe he would try it sometime. Especially with Karlson, hot and heavy in his bed, mouth to mouth as the scarily powerful man resuscitated Sander before they got naked and --

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Stephanie interrupted him, putting an end to her host's fantasies. Your job is not to fall in love with him. You're only supposed to work your way up the ranks, use him to get what you want. Trust me, I'm an expert. The boy rolled his eyes.

When they were introduced to Memoir, who proceeded to choke the life out of another one of the teens, he was, oddly, a bit more shocked. The demon was obviously extremely mentally unstable, causing him to wonder why, in any world, they would appoint him 'Moral Enforcer.' Stephanie, on the other hand, conveyed her wordless approval. He's a powerful demon, famous in Hell for his complete lack of sanity. It's fascinating, really. I must say that I admire him, in a way.

You mean like you admired Hitler? Sander asked coldly.

Why no, of course not. Adolf was simply a means to an end, nothing more. If anything, he admired me.

Before Sander could reply, said demon's head was blown off, and suddenly some new soldier was telling them to do sit-ups. Exasperated, but not wanting to get in trouble, he got into position and began at the whistle. When the minute was up, he'd managed to do 42.

---

Dana had a quick intake of breath when she saw Raven halt suddenly in the middle of her attack and die. It was so sudden.... She was simply in shock. She would have screamed, but Bader yelled in her head, Khalas! If you scream, you might be punished. That calmed the Greek girl down somewhat, and she began breathing at a fairly regular pace as Karlson brought Raven back to life.

After a minute, she asked mentally, Bader? Why aren't you affected by this?

There was a pause before he responded, and when he did, it wasn't in words. Instead, he showed her pictures -- flashes of memories, snapshots from his time fighting -- and dying -- in Syria. Explosions, screams, death and destruction. Then it stopped, and Dana understood.

When Memoir began slowly killing one of the others, she stared, interested. She was still somewhat in shock, but she also found this demon interesting. Bader smiled at that. Yes, he certainly is an interesting one. You're wondering what made him this way, aren't you?

Dana nodded, then averted her eyes when someone shot the demon in the head. He would be okay, she knew, but it was still unnerving, the way these people treated death. However, she supposed that when one could come back from it, as these people seemingly could, death didn't present itself the same way.

Upon being instructed to begin sit-ups, she sighed, but was somewhat glad at the opportunity to concentrate on something other than thinking -- a heresy if she'd ever committed one, but she'd been given a lot to think about in the last few minutes. In the end, she was actually able to slow her thought processes for once -- at least for a little bit -- and was able to do exactly 35 sit-ups, doing the last one just in the last few seconds of the allotted time.

[Charmera]

"Right. I'll see you later." Anthony followed the path that Karlson lead the kids through, and kicked open the door the same way Memoir did earlier. Though he wasn't spouting nursery rhymes, he entered without a word and stood adjacent to Karlson. "What's up, sir? Having fun with these underdeveloped soldiers?"

Karlson looked over at Corbin, his mood somewhat sour. "Good evening Sgt. To be honest, certain of these fuckbags are really pissing me off. I just finished smearing someone's fucked-up attitude across the floor, and now I'm dealing with a pansified jackass that can't even make twenty pushups."

Jackie had his hands raised to start clapping after the finale of the deadly match, grinning to himself at the painful results, but dropped his grin when he was informed that he had to perform more push-ups. Whether said clapping was to mock Raven's suicidal and poorly thought-out attempt or to commend Karlson's actions, not even Jackie knew. It was probably a healthy helping of both. However, he was QUITE amused with Memoir's madness, and had to physically hold his own tongue to prevent spouting a reference from an old shooter game he used to play when he was young. Shaking off the thought, Jackie got down on the ground on his knuckles for a second round, and began again. Uuuuugggggh, this is boriiiing. The short break was enough to help at least a little bit, and the teen tried to blitz through before his pain and muscles caught up with him. He got to five push-ups before he wasn't able to go on, but intense frustration and will kicked in, so he managed to get in thirteen push-ups down in around 65 seconds before his muscles gave out again and forced his face to plop into the flooring again. The nerd sighed quietly again, the pain of the unusually hard work-out and falling on his face twice kicking into his body further. He got up on his knuckles again with a frustrated look on his face, ready to try to succeed at this task. A task the wimp would likely not be able to accomplish that day, but one he was trying to do in the face of all odds.

Walter was worried at the cripplingly poor state of Jackie's strength, and quite scared or unnerved by some of his comrades, Karlson, Memoir, and Stephanie being rather notable. This didn't show on his slightly-grey, dead face, but inside he was close to shaking in his boots. He merely stood there watching, smoking his cigarette as everything went to shit around him, the fear reaching his heart and mind but not his face.

Karlson bent over and screamed in Jackie's ear, "Goddamned pussy! What the fuck did you do with your life?! Sit on your ass eating Doritos and j***ing off to Desperate Housewives?! Get your fucking shit into gear, you useless fucktard! You're not leaving until you either make twenty pushups in a row, or you vomit across the floor! Get the fuck ready, and begin!!!"

Memoir roared in fury, his mouth begining to foam from his insane rage. His grip only tightened on the boy's invisible throat.
Another voice, this one distinctly british, was shouting profanity. A soldier stormed into the room, holding a sniper rifle. "Memoir, you fucking cunt! I'll give you your fuckin' present for ditching me in a GOD DAMN STRIP CLUB!"
BANG
The bullet entered Memoir's head, causing it to explode as his body slumped to the ground. The soldier slung the rifle over his shoulder, and pulled out a large revolver and kicked Memoir's body, as it landed firing several rounds into his body. "You bleedin' prick! Lessee ya get up after that!"
He stomped repeatedly on the body, before turning about. "Sorry 'bout that Cap'n. I tried ta get here on time, but Memoir demanded to see the fuckin' beach. Said he'd never been there. When he got there he started screamin' at a buoy and seagulls. I turn to head here and he was eating the bleeding things."

Karlson turned to look at the man, nodding. "I'll forgive you, Conrad. Just make sure to keep a slightly tighter leash on him. I don't want to resurrect too many kids on the first day."

He turned to the kids. "Now, let me introduce these two. The dead, but soon to be living, Demon is Memoir. Lightheart decided that he'd make the ideal Moral Enforcer. In other words, it is his job to make sure that you little dipshits follow the rules and orders of your superiors to the letter. If he finds you so much as making wise cracks about us, he'll punish you." He made sure to emphasize and draw out the word "punish".

"The man with a rifle is his host, Conrad Stern. He's basically in charge of the weapons stash and making sure you kiddos don't run out of ammunition. Although he may seem tame compared to Memoir, don't piss him off, 'cause he's quite a marksman."

"Conrad. Nice to see you." Anthony nodded to his other comrade, dealing with his tempermental familiar (emphasis on the MENTAL). He knew how the two could be, yet they could usually pull it together for a fight. After watching the spectacle for a few more seconds, he turned to the children who seemed to be doing nothing, and decided to motivate them. "What are you little shits sitting around for!? I've you've got time to stare, you've got time to train! Sit-ups! Now! 1 minute! GO!" Tony let loose a loud whistle, and forced the kids to get to work.

Karlson rubbed his temples, as if he actually had a headache. "Thanks Corbin. When they're done with that, how about you take them to the firing range for a little target practice. I've got to deal with the pansy before I can head over there.

"And make note of how good they do, 'cause I'll want a full report later."

Jack managed 42, Jane obviously having to unfuse after the incident. He was grateful for anything that could take his mind off being choked. He was sweating, and of course he was panting like a dog afterwards, but mostly because he was nearly chocked to death.

Miranda had to recover from the shock quickly. The snap of Ravens neck had nearly made her vomit. But she bottled up the shock. She knew showing weakness was a good way to get killed, and right now she wasn't powerful enough to defend herself. She managed fifty sit ups despite the shock.

Laura and Raven

Laura carefully laid Raven on the bed, pulling her hands away. She briefly looked around the apartment while standing over Raven, but soon lost interest, walking to the firing range where she was instructed to go. She seemed to care little about her task or the girl.

So, do you think the kid Memoir strangled is still alive? Asked Laura, curious.

Probably. I heard a sniper rifle shot as we exited the building. He responded It was probably Conrad reigning him in.

With a sniper rifle? She asked, though she did suppose high level demons are quite tough...

Still. Must keep an eye on that Memoir. She thought to herself as she waited outside the firing range. He's unpredictable, and I don't like unpredictable.

[Nekronia]

Karlson bent over and screamed in Jackie's ear, "Goddamned pussy! What the fuck did you do with your life?! Sit on your ass eating Doritos and j***ing off to Desperate Housewives?! Get your fucking shit into gear, you useless fucktard! You're not leaving until you either make twenty pushups in a row, or you vomit across the floor! Get the fuck ready, and begin!!!"

Jackie was quite frustrated and angry at this point, with both his own weakness and his superior's yelling, and also the excessive exercise that wasn't helping much either. At this point he was getting close to red in the face and everywhere else, from both working very hard and being VERY frustrated, while his teeth were grit rather tight as well. He really wanted to roll up his sleeve and bloody Karlson's face, but that would probably end rather poorly. The severe frustration, rage, annoyance, and mild arousal from his situation, he had a crazy idea and a thought along "That's the last fucking straw", making up his mind on what he was going to do, to show his mindset to the superior and maybe get him to shut his trap for a moment. "HERR, JA-FICKEND-WOHL, HERR." Jackie rolled up his right sleeve and did what any normal human being would do. He pulled back his right arm speedily with a light crack coming from his shoulder and... put his teeth on the forearm, scraping from near the elbow down to the wrist, some blood coming out of the bite-scrape. He threw his knuckles back down on the ground and began doing push-ups yet again. The adrenaline coming from the rage and intense pain started pumping through the teen's veins, overriding the weariness and getting him extremely pumped up. He began trying again to blitz through the exercise, intentionally abusing the adrenaline from the rage and pain to accomplish the intended goal. He managed to just barely get above the intended goal, with 23 push-ups in the allotted time limit. Perfectly average for a male, an absolute god-damned miracle for stringbean here.

At this point, the stinging from the bite wound and the overexertion was a bit much, especially combined with the extreme levels of emotion pooled within the young fellow, causing his vision to begin blurring and fading. A quite severe pain was coming from his right arm, and it was a deeper pain than that from the scrape, being MUCH more painful. John disregarded the horrific sensations and emotions he was feeling, and turned with a calm, mildly-annoyed expression to his superior as a slight bit of blood ran down his lip. He opened his somewhat-bloody mouth to speak, every word almost punctuated to say a certain rude pair of words as the teen resisted the urge to say such a death sentence. "Sir. Permission. To. Make. A request. Sir."

Walter was quite horrified by the killing of the crazy demon, even though it was more than necessary. The sit-ups weren't surprising or anything, and would be good to keep the kids' mind off of what happened. When his host... abused the rules of his body... and did what he did, he was quite startled and unnerved. The dead doctor was more than a little concerned with this being mankind's first and last line of defense, sharing Krouse & Mad Jack's concerns.

[Isle of Lithonia]

At this point, the stinging from the bite wound and the overexertion was a bit much, especially combined with the extreme levels of emotion pooled within the young fellow, causing his vision to begin blurring and fading. A quite severe pain was coming from his right arm, and it was a deeper pain than that from the scrape, being MUCH more painful. John disregarded the horrific sensations and emotions he was feeling, and turned with a calm, mildly-annoyed expression to his superior as a slight bit of blood ran down his lip. He opened his somewhat-bloody mouth to speak, every word almost punctuated to say a certain rude pair of words as the teen resisted the urge to say such a death sentence. "Sir. Permission. To. Make. A request. Sir."

Karlson grinned at the punk, and spoke with a mocking tone. "Permission denied. All you've done is prove that you can barely make the minimum number required. Many of the girls here were able to do as many as you though, without nearly killing themselves. So, you've not earned the privilege of making a request from me.

"But, since I don't want you dying on me from overexerting yourself, I'll patch you up a bit." With that, he walked over and touched the sues on the shoulder, healing up his wounds enough to continue on. "Now, we're going to be taking a most difficult one-hundred yard stroll over to the firing range here pretty quick. Don't kill yourself from the strenuous walking required."

At that, he walked back a bit, and stood near Corbin. He took out one of his cigs, and (you guessed it) started smoking.

[Nekronia]

Funnily enough, Karlson actually performed the request that Jackie had in mind, although not to the desired extent. However, he was still ready to punch said officer in the face. Fortunately for Jackie, that form of impulsiveness wasn't in his own nature. Unfortunately, his arm still hurt a bit, although it wasn't vision-blurringly painful anymore. Any more push-ups would probably be REALLY bad, but thankfully it was shooting time. Jackie vented his frustration by getting up via using a firm stomp to thrust himself up, feeling a bit better. He then gave a teeth-clenched "sir, yes, sir" before he began jogging to the firing range while licking the left-over blood on his arm like a cat, even doing the bent fist thing to mimic the action.

Walter was still a bit shocked by everything, and tried to catch up to Jackie, panting a bit before reaching him and merging. What did you do?! Don't do that, you hurt yourself badly! Biting yourself like that could kill you! That's the point. Adrenaline shot. But- I am not in the mood for DISCUSSION RIGHT NOW, please DESIST. Just know that I don't approve of shedding blood. I know that, you've said that. Please STOP saying that, I already KNOW that, and I am TWO SECONDS away from KICKING someone in the THROAT. Dieu krooz I hate these fucking people good fucking lord I want to toss a slab through their slag-riddled...
Given John's change from being endlessly frivolous to fuming his rage, Walter zipped it and didn't give the nigh-mandatory explanation of Memoir.

[Achidyemay]

After the shot that killed Memoir was delivered, Lord Pouton began applauding, before Conor grabbed his hands and held them firmly in place, silencing him. Unfortunately, he was forced to let go when he was instructed to do sit-ups and sat down on the floor with a slight roll of his eyes. He commenced with the whistle and after an extreme amount of determination managed to do 44 pushups. He looked at Jackie, presently, and was shocked to see the kid use his teeth to mangle his arm.
Wha-... Whi-... Why? Conor thought, realizing that he had done the sit-ups with a mild amount of determination in comparison to this display. He got up off of the floor and bounced on the balls of his feet, lightly. A Gun Range, I hope we can manage that without bloodshed Conor thought, counter-intuitively. He hoped Sergeant Anthony would be in charge and, to be honest, Conor liked his clean cut demeanor and found it refreshing to have a teacher who was really just here to teach. Pouton disliked him for exactly the same reasons.

[Hetland 2]

"Conrad. Nice to see you." Anthony nodded to his other comrade, dealing with his tempermental familiar (emphasis on the MENTAL). He knew how the two could be, yet they could usually pull it together for a fight. After watching the spectacle for a few more seconds, he turned to the children who seemed to be doing nothing, and decided to motivate them. "What are you little shits sitting around for!? I've you've got time to stare, you've got time to train! Sit-ups! Now! 1 minute! GO!" Tony let loose a loud whistle, and forced the kids to get to work.

Conrad grinned, "Sergeant Corbin, always a pleasure to see you again. Hopefully this time it won't make it the time I have to kill you. How's the wound healing? I had to make it look realistic." Conrad's grin shrank. "Memoir. You aren't dead you sack of shit. Get up." He turned to the kids, "Pleasure to meet you, lads and lassies. I'm Major Conrad Stern, I'm from the Black Cemetary PMC. Head sniper. I'm under payroll of Captain Karlson. Despite the difference in rank, I am his subordinate. He's currently retaining my services as assassin and gunsmith for top dollar. Speaking of which, I didn't know you were retaining Sergeant Corbin. I appreciate that, Captain. I'll take $15,000 off the total. Anyways, as Captain Karlson said, I'm in charge of keeping track of the armoury and sniper drills if any of you seem to have aptitude for it. I respond to Major, Major Stern, or if I like you, you can call me Conrad."
Memoir was back up, his head was reforming slowly. "What was I doing? Perhaps I was," as one of his eyes reformed, it brightened up, "Massssterrrrr! I told you... Tungsten rounds make the regeneration take way too much longer regenerate!"
Conrad spat on the floor and growled with irritation.