Looking for the OOC page? Here it is!
I suppose this man is the villain of the RP. Screw you, Fred.
December 24th, 2020
9:12 AM
█.██°S, ███.██°E
Socialist Macronesia
John Ross woke up the same way he had awoken for the last two months: wrapped in Ari's arms. Except this day was different. The sun was shining, the birds were tweeting, and that meant that they had fucking overslept. It was Christmas Eve, and Ross had a party planned. At 10:00. It was 9:12. They would need to get ready, and soon. For another minute, Ross just savored Ari's company, soaking it in like the sunlight. Oh, right. Party. Alright, fun time over.
Ross gave Ari a light shove. "Ari... Ari."
She stirred slightly, and then groaned. "W... ugh... what is it, John?"
"The Christmas party starts today. We have to go get ready."
She rolled over, refusing to budge. "Make me."
"Oh, come on." He prodded her with the pillow. "I mean, you wouldn't want to be late, now would you?" He pulled the blanket off of her. She tried to snatch it back, but Ross was too fast. He held it away from her. "Ari..."
"Ughhh. Fine."
She gingerly stood up. Ross smiled.
And then Ross got hit in the face with a pillow.
He quickly swung his pillow to counter. The two began to engage in a vicious pillow war. The bed was quickly stripped, the blankets and sheets used to make fortifications to absorb the barrage of artillery pillows raining down on both sides. It was a bloody and brutal conflict, one that ended in Ari smashing through Ross's well-made blanket fortifications, and gently knocking him to the ground. They began to roll around on the floor, trying to hit each other with pillows, laughing their asses off the whole time. Ah, so this is why I'm with this woman.
"Alright, I surrender, Ari! It's 9:30! We have to get ready!"
"Victorious, as usual." The two locked eyes.
"I love you, John."
"I love you too, Ari."
Ross took a shower and got dressed. He tossed on a pair of khaki shorts and a light button down, threw on a pair of Ray-Ban aviators, and slipped a pistol into his waistband holster. He wasn't bothering to dress up formally; SoMac wasn't a formal nation by any standards. Suits and dresses absorbed and trapped the light and heat like crazy, so most people never bothered to wear them unless they were vacationing in other countries. Which wasn't often, considering that SoMac was an island paradise year-round; most people weren't keen on leaving too often.
December 24th, 2020
5:30 AM
█.██°S, ███.██°E
Socialist Macronesia
Nate Barton woke up much differently.
He didn't exactly remember what had happened last night, but he remembered... well, drinking, and having the worst nightmare of his life, bar none. It was now just a faint whisper at the back of his mind, but he remembered exactly what had happened. There was Ross, as a catgirl, standing over him, the entire world around him crumbling into a shapeless, dark, void. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't say a word, his eyes fixed upon the approaching figure. Ross reached out and touched his arm, and Nate felt a searing, icy cold blast of pain surge through his arm. He was screaming and he was screaming and he closed his eyes
He awoke to his alarm clock, blaring. Faintly, he heard the opening piano keys of "Stop Her On Sight" emanating from his kitchen. He quickly jumped to his feet, disregarding the half-drained bottle of vodka he had knocked onto the floor, and the raging hangover straining his brain. He took a short cold shower, got dressed, and came into his kitchen. Taking off the Edwin Starr LP, he set it down on a nearby table and made himself some breakfast.
Two months. Two months since Halloween. He considered them to be the worst two months of his life. Two months of nightmares, alcohol, wallowing in self pity, and finally acceptance. That had been his life before Halloween, it hadn't changed; it was the fact that he knew that he was now entirely on his own. Patyu had gone off to... that bastard Paris, Ross had left him to spend time with Ari, even a simple dance had been denied to him by Keller. If Nate had nightmares, there was nobody there to comfort him. Ross had a hundred thousand people who were willing to put him at ease. And over time, Nate had grown to accept this. He was on his own. That was just fine with him. But it wasn't fine. It wasn't fine at all. He wanted retribution, he wanted revenge, he wanted to curl up into a ball in the corner of his house and waste away. He wasn't a failure, he had just won at all the wrong things. He shoveled another bite of eggs into his mouth, the heat long since dissipated. He didn't bother to heat them up again.
His phone rang. It was one of the heads at the Ministry of External Security. Nate already knew what it would be about.
"Nate."
"I see you're awake."
"Let me guess: you're here to tell me that the US is doing the same thing they've done every Christmas for the last five years. And you're here to ask me if I can come into work early today, I'm guessing so you can make a briefing and tell us what's going on."
The man at the other end sighed. "Yeah. As usual with him, I tried to call Ross, but he isn't awake yet it doesn't seem like. You mind stopping by to bring him in for the brief before that formal event he has planned starts?"
"He's with Ari. I'd say just leave him be. He'll find out at the airbase."
"Sounds good. Talk to you later."
"Bye, see you at the brief."
"Bye."
He hung up. Nate put his plate into the dishwasher, grabbed a coat, and went out to his car.
December 20th, 2020
11:54 AM
34.██°N, 69.██°E
Kabul, Afghanistan
"████, if you go to Socialist Macronesia, Ross will have you shot. That's a fact. It's not worth it, even if you mean no harm." The Afghan nervously clutched his AKS-74U to his chest. "And wha--"
"Relax, tovarishch. I'll be just fine. Has the transport been arranged?"
"Yes, but--"
"Then I'm going. Whether you recommend it or not, Hafiz, I'm going."
"I do not suggest you go. Whether you listen to me is up to you." Hafiz crossed his arms.
████ grinned. "Alright. See you when I return." He lit a cigar and brought it to his lips. Hafiz gave him a quick military salute, and stepped from the room. Fucking crazy Americans. At least it pays well.