SoMac Christmas Fête [IC, Closed]

by **Free Ravensburg** » Sat Mar 27, 2021 1:59 pm

As the group split up and went to look for Ross, Jakob decided to stay with Karl, since he didn't feel comfortable talking to a man he barely knows anything about, especially alone. After they all agree that he could stay with Karl, Jakob collapsed on the ground, without any warning. The group rush to Jakob's side, and find out that he has a fever of 40 degrees. Amadeus, Derith, and Vulna decide to stay with Jakob, with Derith attempting to subdue the fever and Amadeus making sure his nephew stays alive during this trip. Derith asked the group to go find a doctor, as he had never seen a fever go up this high before.

Amadeus began to think about what could have caused it, going through all the possibilities for causing the fever. He then remembered the time when he manifested his Stand, and the mysterious fever that he had during that time. He then remembered the time when he took Jakob to the park, before that vending machine was discovered. Amadeus then realized that Jakob could see his, Victoria's, Adolph's, and Viktor's Stands on the bus, even though he was from Free Ravensburg. He then asked Derith and Vulna a question.

Amadeus: "Hey, uh, can I ask you a bizarre question? Do you remember on the bus and during that volleyball game?"
Derith: "That is indeed a bizarre question. Yes, why do you inquire?"
Amadeus: "I think, no, I KNOW he is developing his Stand. I remember when I first developed Serpent Scarlet, I had a fever just like this one. Jakob is manifesting a Stand!"
Karl: "Wait, he SAW your Stands?"
Amadeus: "Yeah, and I forgot that detail."

Derith continues to try and ease the fever. As he does this, they hear the sound of a bird flapping its wings. At first they think it is just Ravenia, but then they see a cyan feather fall from a tree.

by **Kiu Ghesik** » Sun Mar 28, 2021 5:37 pm

For the briefest of moments Ari considered wearing something actually nice to Ross' party. For the briefest, smallest, most infinitesimally short of moments. The instant she had begun to peruse her selection of formal dress, she had realized that said selection was limited to that damn sleeveless red dress from Halloween- that wouldn't do at all. Ari slammed her incredibly modest and threadbare closet shut, spun away from it, and groaned, flopping back onto a convenient couch. This place had a lot of them, really. They were nice. She would have to remember to take one with her i- when she went home.

But, the pondering of couches notwithstanding, there was still the dilemma of what to wear at this stupid thing. She didn't have anything that would fit the bill for formal wear, the majority of her supply of informal wear was, how to say this... acclimated to her present climate, and the remainder of her wardrobe consisted of her already-dirtied hiking outfit, furs that would have the primary effect of turning her into a pile of sweat were she to step outside in them, and her remaining choices consisted of a) quite literally pajamas and b) a set of something Ross called "loungewear" that she'd never worn given its seeming redundancy compared to the former item. Pretty much the entirety of all these "choices" in clothing seemed redundant to her, in fact- if you had an outfit you liked, why not just wear that? It was more convenient. All this "fashion" was either traumatizing or far too complicated.

But... eh. The set looked comfortable enough, and from what she could tell one of the primary aspects of modernity was that sense of redundancy, so... why not? This party was hardly the definition of formal. And she wouldn't likely have to make any especial preparation for the outfit, given that it seemed to be the definition of casual. Trying it on revealed that she was primarily accurate in her assessment- the sweatpants composing its lower half, at least, were very nice. The top was... eh. It didn't even come down to her waist- goddammit, Ross- and from the look of things was cut that way to begin with. Still, though; it wasn't the worst thing she'd ever worn, it moved nicely, and it highlighted one of her scars rather nicely- Ari had heard that people in Ross' time found that sort of thing "badass". Well, it was time to put that to the test, apparently. It would at least be an enlightening experience.

Stepping out to face Ross, she immediately found herself feeling distinctly underdressed.

"I, uh..." Ari said, appraising his (admittedly) simple and (also admittedly) incredibly well-fitting tuxedo, "...you look nice. I... didn't really feel like, um... trying today, I guess. It still works though, right?"

Ross laughed. "It's not like there's a dress code, you're fine. And you look great."

Ari, however, had a difficult time believing that. But it wasn't ultimately an issue- who cared what people thought? She felt good, and it wasn't like some foreigner's judgement would affect her- never mind that everyone here was a foreigner, or rather, she was. But more practically, there were approximately two minutes remaining before the clock struck six; hardly time to rectify her outfit.

When they stepped into the, er... ballroom (since when did this place have a ballroom?), a woman in a uniform who Ari vaguely recognized from a meeting months prior was waiting for them. She stepped up to Ross and gave him a curt greeting- Ross' response to which revealed to Ari that this particular individual just happened to be Nate. Damn it, how was someone meant to keep all these people straight when they kept changing their bodies on Ari? It was damn impossible. Well, at least she'd be able to find Patyu now, though the rest remained... odd. Ross, though, did not seem to be disturbed by Nate's cat-eared and feminine visage, turning to another person that Ari hadn't met before stepping out into the main space where guests were beginning to gather.

Ari, though, chose not to follow him- not just yet. For whatever reason, she felt anxious about all this, though she couldn't yet pin down why. Instead, she simply waved him off with an "I'll catch up to you later", saw him melt into the crowd passing about handshakes, and turned to the woman who had been next to Nate.

"So, uh..." Ari stuck out a hand awkwardly, the other lodged in her pocket. "I, um... I don't believe we've been introduced, but... I feel like I've seen you before. Am I wrong?"

Patyu stepped out of the car after Khensu to see, much to her surprise, a look of relief on his face at the sight of Nate proudly advancing towards Ross' villa that was identical to the one he'd worn earlier- like he was happy to be away from Nate. That was... huh. Patyu had thought he had been warming up on Nate. Had Nate gone too far? Had Patyu pushed Nate too far? No, she couldn't have- she'd hardly spent any time with the two of them.

But still- had things moved too fast?

It was no matter, though, as Patyu saw Khensu's face change from relief to worry as his eyes drifted from Nate to the door Nate was walking towards. He looked down at his clothes, at himself, and as he turned to look at her Patyu could've sworn she saw him trembling.

She knew why.

It wasn't her particular issue, she could tell- that looked different. It looked like... disgust, and self-loathing, and uncertainty. It wasn't fear. Rather, it was the same face she'd worn back in Fardelshufflestein, staring up at a very different ballroom door with frightened eyes. It was fear of how people would see him.

Gently, Patyu reached out and took Khensu's hand. Despite its slimness, it was still calloused- some things, it seemed, couldn't be changed, even by whatever manner of magic had fallen on them. "I... are you okay?"

"Yes." Khensu gulped, then nodded, the tufts on his head bobbing at the motion. Feeling them, he winced. "I'm fine."

Patyu suppressed a chuckle at the "N-no, you're not. Do you- do you want to go? I- go someplace else, I mean."

"...where? Why?" Khensu sighed, looking down at his hands, and then shook his head, his hand in Patyu's own tensing. "I'm fine, Patyu. I can do this."

Turning her head away from Khensu's, Patyu rolled her eyes, then turned back to Khensu with as warm a smile as she could muster on her face. She'd pegged Khensu right, it seemed, and now those same thoughts were threatening to take her too. But as of yet they hadn't overcome the feeling of rightness that had been flushing through her since this morning. And she would use that feeling as best as she could- she would be there for her friend. That was her duty. She hadn't been there for Ari these past two months, she hadn't been there for Khensu- Khensu had been there for her. It was the least she could do to start making up for it.

Tugging his hand, Patyu gently pulled Khensu towards the door- "then come on. I'll be with you if you n-need me."

Softly, gingerly, the two of them made their way up the steps towards the villa's front entryway, Khensu stopping every few feet and Patyu quietly prodding him forward. After a minute they finally crossed the threshold, and passing first through the checkpoint at the entrance and then along a few halls made their way to where an aide's directions had pointed them towards. The dull roar of conversation met them as they did, alien music soaring over a bizarre scene- nearly every last one of the delegates from yesterday in a single room, as if the party then had been replicated now in such an insanely different setting. Hamburgers and punch jars hardly matched with the elaborate molding on the doorframe leading into this ballroom, and yet set out right beside it they were. Patyu shrugged and stepped inside, coaxing Khensu over the threshold, until-

The both of them saw at precisely the same time a tall, imposing man, clad in just as bright white a suit as his curly, shaggy, and yet short-cut hair, next to another, slimmer man with much the same in the way of complexion, albeit a much different outfit and a much less smugly self-assured grin on his face. Like corpses the pair stood, Khensu's hand tightening in Patyu's own, then falling slack and letting the smaller woman's drop to her side. Surely the two in the crowd saw them. And when they realized who they were looking at...

Patyu's breath caught in her throat just at the same moment as Khensu's dread-laced groan escaped his. And just as their minds had, their mouths moved in unison:

"Oh, fuck. It's _P^M_a^a_r^r_i^c_s^o."

by **Brettenwald** » Sun Mar 28, 2021 9:25 pm

This wasn't exactly the kind of thing Marco was used to, if he was going to be honest. Which he was. Usually. Oh, hell, let's not get into that right now. Anyway, where were we? Yes. Right. A punch bowl that- well, either Ross had spiked it or it was just plain crap, probably the latter since the Grateful Dead bears weren't making themselves immediately apparent, a menu similar to that of the lunchtime cookout, and what could possibly have been Huey Lewis over the PA if it had been turned up loud enough for him to tell for sure. It was like viewing a free weekend from Ihratal in your upper years or spring and fall nights in uni through the lens of a capital- A Adult and thinking "wow, did we really think we were such hot shit back then?"

Hastily packing your books and stuff into your bag on a Friday afternoon, racing to your dorm to begin the parade of showers and shaving and hair gel and thinking yes, this outfit will get me laid before, in his case, playing cat and mouse with the security boys in the GCD truck through traffic and out to a mansion belonging to a set of conveniently out-of-town parents with thumping music and couples making out on the couch and unfamiliar people you'd somehow known forever and playing at a sort of collective make-believe that you were all as smart and cool and sexy and hip and with it and as utterly fearless and invincible as only the young, rich and happy could be...

Or maybe it reminded him of those for all the wrong reasons because he'd always had to grow up, and yes, old, before his time thanks to genetics, fate and the expectations of others, but that that fact had taken this long to finally sink in, here, now, surrounded by people who were strange in both senses of the word in the living room of a two-bit cartoon dictator seemed to Marco like the greatest cosmic joke the gods had ever played on him. It was a definite sign of improvement for him that he merely grinned broadly and gave Paris a clap on the shoulder. You learned to take the rough with the smooth after a while. One day at a time. Or, in a more morbidly Darwinian turn of phrase, evolve or die. "So, dear brother, I hope this isn't giving you too many flashbacks... Hey, who's th- Oh, fuck me. Khensu?!"

A snap of white light, a sudden blankness, and a roaring of blood in his head drowning out all else except a seductive and horrifyingly familiar female voice echoing from the back of his mind.

His own.

Chanel N^o. 5.
No.
Twelve thousand crowns of lapis blue Givenchy silk, tulle, and lace.
No.
Daenerys Targaryen braids.
No.
Lights and warmth and music and the susurration of voices around you.
No, gods, please-
Feeling her next to you, holding her-
No!
Black lace under a fuzzy bathrobe and the look on her face when you-
NO!
Teasing and playing and finally having her-
I SAID NO!
Love and lust colliding and feeling her intertwined with you and that one final delicious, aching, crashing moment of-
GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD, YOU PSYCHOPATHIC NYMPHOMANIAC SUCCUBUS BITCH-

Silence.

Heartbeats.

The world was still muted, drowned out by the pounding in his head as he stood still and numb like a statue, but it slowly became audible enough for him hear his brother speak, and what he said filled him with equal parts fear, horror, and nausea along with... hope? A very faint pinprick of light in the vast blackness enveloping his mind and soul, true, but it was a way out nevertheless. It was getting to it that was going to be one of the hardest things Paris had ever done.

"Hi, Nate Barton? I don't think we've met. Marco Cärrino, Paris' brother. I understand you two know each other?"

by **Langenia** » Tue Mar 30, 2021 9:39 am

Finally! It was time to get a move on and return to the hotel, then take one of the buses to the party's location. Nicolas was happy. The hike on the beach had made him feel better, but a party! Who wouldn't refuse the choice to go a party? The President of Langenia went dashing down the beach, retracing his footsteps as fast as he could. Isabella, on the other hand, was a little disappointed that it was time. How did she know Furia wouldn't desert her again and go off to get drunk with his drunk buddy Diego?

Returning to the hotel, Furia promptly changed into a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Ah, it felt really good to not have to wear those tuxedos. They got overrated after a while. Isabella was waiting for him in the living room of their hotel suite. She looked very serious, her blue eyes narrowed at Nicolas. "Now, you WILL behave yourself or I'm going to drag you back here, by your ear, in front of the whole crowd at the party and make a scene out of it." She knew him well. Nicolas Hated making scenes, emphasis on hated, with a capital H. They were, in his words, horrible and embarrassing. Normally Nicolas would complain, but he knew complaining would not make Isabella happy, and this was a vacation. The idea was that they would be happy.

So Nicolas simply said "Yes ma'am. No funny business." Not what Isabella had expected him to say, but hey, a "Yes ma'am" from the President of Langenia, Destroyer of Free Speech, was an accomplishment. So she did not press for more out of him. The couple promptly left the hotel and took the provided bus to Ross's mansion. Nicolas looking up at the facade of the building, he thought Well, not as impressive as the Presidential Palace, but hey, a party's a party! So he took his wife's hand and led her in direction of the event. No funny business. None at all. Riiiiight.

by **Free Ravensburg** » Tue Mar 30, 2021 9:47 am

Jakob's condition worsened by the second, with Derith trying desperately to prevent the fever to rise, but whatever method he used did not improve Jakob's health. He tried magic, herbs, and even a warm, wet cloth to help soothe the fever, with all of them failing. The only thing that he could do is hope that Jakob could survive.

When Derith had done all that he could do, Amadeus began to pray, praying to God to not take Jakob, praying for Jakob to be able to survive his fever, praying to God to not let Amadeus lose another loved one. As Amadeus prayed, tears began to build up in his eyes, fearing that he would lose his nephew, the last person that could bring joy to his sad life. When Amadeus finished praying, he collapsed to the ground, full on weeping, crying in fear of losing his nephew.

Vulna, seeing the state Amadeus was in, tried her best to comfort him. She sent Derith to go get Ravenia to help him calm Amadeus down, as she could only muffle his wails of sorrow. Derith complied and went searching for Ravenia, taking Karl with him.

Amadeus: [sobbing]"He's not ready to fight him."

Inside the Mind of Jakob Haupins

Jakob woke up in a dark room, alone and with no memory of going into the room. He figures that the others are playing some sort of prank on him, placing him in the box after they knocked him out somehow. He begins to look around the room, trying to find the others in the dark, but he does not find anyone. He believes that they must be further in the darkness, hiding beyond what he can see from where he is, so he starts to stand up and search for them. As he gets up from the floor, Jakob hears sinister laughter, a laugh that he does not recognize, echoeing all around the room.

Jakob: "Very funny guys, you got me. You can come out now."
[no response]
"G-guys?"
[still no response]

Jakob begins to walk towards what he thinks was the source of the laughter, still believing that the others are pranking him. As he approaches the source, he hears the same voice, this time speaking to Jakob directly. Jakob realizes that the vioce is not one of the others, and that this is no prank.

???: "Do you really think that they are up to this? What a joke!"
Jakob: "Who are you?! Show yourself!"
???: "My name is not important, what is important is what I am."

Walking out from the darkness is a man, no, a creature, walking on two black ram legs. Its hooves, grey and erect, left cracks in the ground from where it stood. The creature's torso, baring scars from previous battles and muscles larger than a proffessional bodybuilder, glistened from what little light was available. Its arms, with biceps on biceps, moved blissfully, swaying effortlessly, with each step. With the head of a goat, the creature looked down at Jakob, without breking eye contact. Behind the creature stands an equally tall Stand, resembling that of a rhinocerus, taupe in color.

Creature: [walking from the darkness]"I am the one who countless Stand Users fought when they first developed their Stands, that being a physical manifestation of their fighting spirit. I an the one who determines who is worthy of that power, a power that I cannot truly possess, only temporarily control. If you defeat me, you get to live, but if you lose, you will never see the light of day again. And to answer your question of who I am, those who have survived call me 'Mynoxx.' Now, our battle has commenced."

Mynoxx charges at Jakob, making the first move of Jakob's first Stand battle, one that results in life or death.

by **Socialist Macronesia** » Tue Mar 30, 2021 1:51 pm

by **Free Ravensburg** » Tue Mar 30, 2021 4:07 pm

As Mynoxx charged, Jakob quickly moved out of the way, but was hit by the taupe rhino Stand. As Jakob got up from the ground, Mynoxx began to mock Jakob.

Mynoxx: "[laughing] You should look where you're going, boy. Would be a shame if you died before the fun really started now, would it?"

As the fight continued, Jakob began to cough and spit up blood. Blow after blow, the Stand rammed straight into him, making Mynoxx angrier and angrier. Mynoxx, now impatient, walked up to Jakob, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him over his head.

Mynoxx: "I am getting impatient, boy. If I do not see you manifest your Stand, I will finish you off personally."

Mynoxx then summons an axe from the darkness, bringing it to Jakob's neck, close enough for Jakob's sweat to fall on the blade. The Stand, 10 meters away, prepares to charge at Jakob, scratching the floor with its foot. Jakob thought to himself that he would die at that moment.

Mynoxx: "Time's up, boy."

[Stand_Manifest.mp3]

A teal and white feather falls to the ground. Mynoxx looks up and finds Jakob's Stand^{[play this for the best experience]}, a massive aquamarine and cerulean wyvern, standing over Jakob, protecting him. Mynoxx drops his weapon, backing up in awe at the Stand. Using it's tail, the Stand flicks the taupe Stand, causing it to de-manifest. Opening its mouth, it swallows Mynoxx, ending the battle.

As Jakob opens his eyes, the wyvern is looking at him in a caring way.

Jakob: "Who are you?"
Aqua Wyvern: "[read this in a female voice, please]I am your ability. I have always been with you, dormant in your soul. When Mynoxx's Touch affected you, I awakened. You may call me Aqua Wyvern."

Jakob wakes up from his comatose, being hugged by his uncle.

Amadeus: "I was so worried I was going to lose you-"
Jakob: "-uhh."

Amadeus snapped out of it, backing up so fast that he nearly knocked over Vulna. Amadeus explained to Jakob that he fell from a fever, and that the others found a doctor just in time. Jakob, knowing that Amadeus is a total liar, accepted the story. They then went down a path and joined the rest of the partygoers.

by **Imperial-Octavia** » Tue Mar 30, 2021 10:55 pm

Phase 4

Jane had spent the day collecting information on her targets, using each and every camera she had to stalk her queries. As an infiltrator she took particular pride in watching her targets and slowly assembling a profile on her target. What they are, how they spoke, where they went, the simple things that they enjoyed, and any juicy gossip that they shared with their friends. She knew that as a superior synthetic being that she should probably be over it, but every time she listened in on something that she knew she shouldn't, it always gave her a little rush, just a jolt of excitement to make her search for the next bit of forbidden knowledge until she knew everything that she could know about the Imperium's target. She wasn't quite at that point with Ross or Ari, but she knew just about enough to proceed with her plan. Besides once she did capture Ari, Jane could always scan her brain on the ship and pry all that juicy information out the easy way. In the last few hours before the party Jane picked up some equipment from around the city, some chloroform from a pharmacy, a stolen pistol from a now dead drunkard, and then a few boxes of oil to keep on her ship just in case she had to remove some evidence. Jane then went to the real Jane's home to throw on some of the organic's rags for whatever boring thing that these Macronesians called a "party". She threw on a plain red dress hidden in the far reaches of her closet which worked well enough for the party she was about to engage in. It might be an issue if she had to come to blows with the organics present, but she would make sure that it wouldn't happen.

At 5:30 Jane hopped into real Jane's car and began driving to the party as a song about sliver bells played over the radio. She had to admit that the Christmas thing that these humans were into seemed fun, sure the music was woefully ancient and those sweaters that some of them made were so repulsive that it warranted a planet wide gassing, but it was quaint. There was something about it that made her feel nice; she could imagine that with her Synthetic friends and family that this Christmas thing may be something worthwhile. Perhaps, she thought, when this Earth is incorporated into the Imperium after the Ascension War ended that Octavia may want to adopt. Another song popped onto their radio about a person named Santa who constantly watched the population for bad behavior...Jane had some seconds thoughts on this Christmas thing.

30 minutes later, Jane would arrive at the party just as people would begin pouring into the building and she would take her tools and place them in a "secret" pocket in the skinsuit (except for the gas which had been deposited in her ship) and walked into the venue. Immediately after walking in Jane began checking around the CCTV system to look for Ari and or Ross, depending on which one was more available and saw that Ari was talking to some woman. Their body language indicated that they were quite recently introduced and it didn't seem as if an end was in sight to their conversation, disappointing, but if Ross was alone Jane could always skip the replacement and go straight to taking the information about the Protocol from his mind. Looking around she saw Ross surrounded by people...and a dead body. How quaint. It seemed that some romantic troubles had lead to this incident and while she would've liked to go laugh at the organics for A: Being able to die and B: Being so emotionally barbaric to kill over such trivial matters, but that could wait until after she had the protocol, for now she would watch and wait for one of the two to be truly alone. Jane would excuse herself to a corner of the room and sat against a wall checking the CCTV system and her bug drone; of course she ran the risk of some organic interrupting her because she looked lonely, but she would hope that they would be too busy with the party to pay attention to some woman sitting against the wall. Jane called her ship over to somewhere outside the venue while cloaked and watched and waited until opportunity presented itself. Soon enough her plan would come into fruition and another glorious success for the Imperium would be achieved, she simply needed to be patient...

by **Voxija** » Wed Mar 31, 2021 1:19 pm

Etor and Bixenta, after sampling some snacks, had wandered near Marco and Paris were. Not near enough to seem creepy, Etor hoped. But near enough to see.

Bixenta thought it was creepy. "Are you stalking these young men?" Bixenta whispered teasingly.

"No!" Etor whispered back.

When they exchanged gifts, Etor slapped himself in the face. He had forgotten to bring gifts. Again. Even with all the shops in Socialist Macronesia he could've gotten gifts from. It was probably a Voxijan thing.

The Voxijans' reverie was interrupted by Nate. He had choked someone—very impolite to do at a party. And right in eye view of two badly shaken Voxijan presidents. Bixenta had a horrified look on her face, while Etor just seemed tired.

"What did I just see?" asked Bixenta.

"I told you, this was SoMac," Etor responded. Etor thought it was strange that the more experienced president was more shook at seeing a murder happen, but Bixenta hadn't been to Socialist Macronesia before.

They both walked away quickly, not so quickly as to draw attention to themselves, but quickly enough to get away from the party. They were almost at the door when Etor got Bixenta's attention.

"What is it, Etor?"

Etor sighed. "I have to go back in there." Etor shook his head. "I have to go back to see Paris. I have to be friends with him again. I need to complete my unfinished business." At that, the president trudged back into the ballroom.

Bixenta shrugged. "I don't really want to go back to the party, but I guess I should see the twins." They both walked in.

by **Brettenwald** » Thu Apr 01, 2021 3:19 pm

It happened in a flash. First Nate had seemed to finally & definitively crack and lose his mind, and Marco was on the verge of doing something concerned and helpful before Nate somehow managed to drag both Paris and Patyu outside, bitch about his present- well, how the fuck was I supposed to know he was an alcoholic? -kill a security guard in a fit of rage, and finally get subdued by Ross and dragged back inside. This was one of those times he was glad Marco had been working on his anger issues... or not, considering the dull roar he was hearing from inside.

"Ross, what the fuck kind of drugs are you on? You invite us all here all oh, yeah, no need for security, you'll be perfectly safe, la de da, nothing to worry about, you bring us to a party with a homicidal maniac who you merely fucking trust or whatever not to snap and kill us, and you're not even concerned that this certifiably insane son of a bitch-" angrily gesturing at Nate- "just murdered an innocent man and would no doubt like to do the same to my brother? Who, may I remind you, Nate, is here endangering his life on fucking purpose because he genuinely wants to apologize and try to make things right! I know you think he's an homewrecking effeminate asshole and gods know I agree with the latter two adjectives, but I fail to see how that's punishable by fucking death! Seriously, Ross, are we on Candid Camera? Is this some kind of sick fucking joke?" Marco paused to catch his breath. "Goddess be good, after tonight I swear I'm never even flying anywhere near here ever again, let alone actually setting foot in this champagne socialist third-world dump." A door slammed, a car started, and an engine roared... briefly. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry, Khensu, I didn't see you there! I didn't hit you, did I? Are you okay?

They were alone now, outside on the back patio. "So, er..." Fuck knives, Paris would have had difficulty breaking the awkward tension between himself and Patyu with high explosives. "Look, I was hoping for us to get together with Nate and talk about it all together, but that doesn't seem to be an option under the circumstances. Do you want to go first, or shall I? I wasn't sure what size of sweater to get you, so I hope they fit their respective bodies. Merry Christmas, I suppose," he added rather lamely. There was a slightly less uncomfortable but very long silence between the two afterwards as the sounds of the party made their muffled way outside and mixed with the quiet noises of the jungle at night. And finally, Patyu began to speak.

by **Kiu Ghesik** » Thu Apr 01, 2021 9:58 pm

Oh. Well, that was interesting. Ari took the preferred beer from Sarah, popped its lid off by way of using the table the two were leaned up against as an impromptu bottle opener, and took a ginger sip. Even if these things were far weaker compared to what she was used to, it would be no good to get herself drunk now. Nothing good ever came of that. With a clack she set it down on the table and turned back to Sarah, the smirk on her face turning into a casual grin.

"Don't really remember you, unfortunately. Nice to meet someone who isn't on a security detail, a foreign dignitary, or the takeout guy, by the way; you'd think that if I was literally... um..." Ari paused, felt herself flush ever-so-slightly, and coughed. ..."seeing... the president I'd be talking with more people, but no. God, sometimes I feel like I know more foreigners than I do actual people here."

In her head, a little voice peeped out an unwanted aside. It was the same voice that had nagged her for two monthds now. Well, that was true. Most of the people you know are foreigners to these people.

Fortunately, she'd grown very good indeed at pushing that voice aside. So? That should've changed by now. Now go away. Her mind turning back to the woman in front of her, Ari took another sip from her beer and shrugged. "Med student, huh? I know someone like that." Patyu knows her better, but I'm not going to ask him about that. You can do that herself, if what I want ends up going to plan.

"Anyways, uh... yeah, I'd say it's pretty nice so far. Artillery bombardments aren't too much of a problem, I only almost stepped on a mine once, and I found this really nice Chinese place behind the military history museum. Seriously, the dim sum is to die for. The mosquitoes, well... nasty fucks. And I actually went hiking this morning with Ross and that... uh..."

Ari turned to scan the crowd, her eyes searching for a familiar platinum-blonde-and-silver haircut standing above the rest, only to find not a single person fitting that descriptor anywhere in the ballroom. Huh. That's odd. Oh, well, he probably just stepped out to get some air.

And then- a crash from outside. It faded away like thunder, crazed screaming like echoing rumbles chasing after it. A voice Ari recognized, colored by terror and rage and insanity. Nate's. And then silence, and in a low, lethal tone, Ross's. He was not speaking to her- his attention was directed somewhere else entirely.

For once, Ari was glad Ross' focus was somewhere other than her. But at least she'd found Marco.

The din of the ballroom slowly building back to a roar, Ari shrugged once more and set her attention back on Sarah. Such things were normal occurrences in Macronesia, she'd come to learn, and it didn't do to ponder mysterious thuds for all that long. "...the tall Brettain delegate. Marco. You know, the one with the *testosterone*." Cupping her hand to her mouth, Ari coughed, then shot Sarah a cheeky grin. "But hey, at least I'm actually doing things. So, uh... same question, I guess, you do anything interesting recently? It feels like John's the only person on this island, sometimes; got to reassure myself that other human beings that do things actually exist every once in a while, you know?"

It had only taken a moment of watching Nate's insane, blurry movements for Patyu to break and turn away from him, burying her head into Khensu's side in fear. Cowering, she dug her face into his fatigues, gripping the fabric with fingers that probably were drawing blood. But she couldn't- she couldn't look at Nate. She couldn't watch what she knew he was doing. Oh god- oh god- oh- he's- it's all my- it's my fault, it's- he's broken, he's snapped, I- I wasn't fast enough, I- this is-

But eventually, inevitably, terrifyingly, the noises came to a stop. And so Patyu let her face fall from Khensu's side ever-so-slighty.

And saw, funnily enough, a dead man. Not her first body, but the first she'd seen killed. And it was just as sickening as she'd thought it would be.

Nate sat on top of a security guard, hunched over like some kind of beast, his hands- those delicate hands, the hands Patyu had imagined slipped into Khensu's not a few hours ago- wrapped around the poor man's throat. The guard was totally, undeniably dead- his legs were splayed out, like he'd been thrashing before he'd finally gone, and his face was contorted and blued. His eyes were open, glassy, staring at nothing in particular. Patyu's, on the other hand, were fixed inexorably on the dead man- and on her friend the murderer atop him.

Patyu was, on some level, aware that Nate was a killer. That he'd taken many a life before this one. That he'd been willing to take hers just yesterday- just for the crime of the precious few minutes she'd spent with Paris. Not even with this Paris, with the tall, lanky, utterly unattractive one in front of her- with another Paris. A Paris who cared, and a Paris who'd left her.

And now- and now- all because of her, because of fucking Vashadri and all the hell that dumb idiot girl had raised while Patyu had been busy trying to give her a chance, a man was dead. A man with a family. With people who loved him. And this madman in front of her she'd been stupid enough to call a friend was the one who'd killed him.

No.

Patyu had killed him. It had been Nate's hands wrapped around his neck, but it was the hours Patyu had spent in another's arms two months ago that had killed him.

Vaguely Patyu was aware of that Brettain warrior Helena had told her about- Marco, Paris' brother- screaming at Nate, shoving him off the body, then when Ross came out to see what had happened and bring Nate back inside throwing all that rage back at him. Patyu wanted to reach out, to put herself between them, to get Marco to turn his words on her, make her feel guilty for that body on the floor, but no- she was such a coward that all she could do was cling to Khensu. Just like Nate did. And when Khensu gently tugged her off him and took a step out into the street, fists balled at his sides, all Patyu could do was slide to the cold flagstone of the patio with a groan and curl into a ball.

She couldn't even bring herself to cry. She'd killed a man and she didn't even know enough about him to do more than feel sick to her stomach.

After what felt like an eternity of the stone sucking the heat from her limbs she felt a hand on her shoulder dragging her into an upright position. With no small effort, of course- it must've been Paris. Oh, god. I've- I've got to look at you now. He gently lowered himself to the ground, sitting down cross-legged, and began to talk.

And against her better judgement, Patyu listened. When he finally came to the end of his little spiel, his words falling flat and pathetically on the ground between them like a smattering of tiny fish, he turned to look at her with a face she didn't recognize.

Patyu's own eyes turned to look back up at him, and she cringed. The lines, the creases, even the warmth in his eyes, they were all different- all wrong. They weren't Paris'. But they were- they were who Paris really was. And Patyu was the one lying to her- him- herself, telling herself what she was, just for... what? The escapism? A respite from the sickness, from the loathing? She didn't even know anymore.

But what she did know was that there was someone who had once been Paris right next to her, and it would be wrong of her not to take the opportunity to speak to him. She hadn't even been able to say goodbye last they'd met- now would be a good time to start.

"G... good... goodbye, khied- drir..." Only two words into her speech and she was already a mess- great. Fucking typical of you. Can't you do anything right?

One arm darted out to grab the other, and abashedly Patyu leaned into Paris' side. The warmth there was gone. This wasn't Paris. But it was still someone, and she needed to feel... to feel. To be anything but alone. "I... I'm sorry, I... that was stupid of me. It was all stupid of me. I'm sorry."

"And I- I... I don't c-celebrate Ch... Christmas, I- I didn't- didn't get you anything, I... s-sorry. Again." God. Patyu didn't even know what to say- apologize? Again? If she was to apologize for everything she'd done to Paris then that would take all night and a good portion of the 26th to boot. But there wasn't anything else to say- she just felt guilty around him. Guilty for Lisanne, guilty for Paris, guilty for being how she was, guilty for indulging the damn selfish sickness in her, guilty for Nate, guilty for that poor dead bastard on the floor- guilty.

Well, she needed something to do beyond just sitting here. Apologizing was as good as place as any to start. "I'm... I'm sorry about your girlfriend too. And for- and for being like this." She paused, picked the larger sweater up off the ground, beat a stray bit of dust off its breast, and wrapped it over the two of them. "Y- you p-probably didn't e-expect to s-see me like thi- this. And... and I'm- I'm sorry for Nate, and I'm sorry for what I did yesterday, and I'm sorry for letting you get to me in the first place, and I... I don't know. I c-can't do anything. Except r-ruin things. You would be better off w-without me."

And she paused. Patyu sniffled, then buried her head in Paris' shoulder, wiping a tear off her cheek. Seeing the look on his face and completely ignoring what it meant she mumbled out yet another apology. "S-sorry, that was... sorry..."

Patyu hung her head and sighed. All of this would be better off without me.

by **Bogi Smerti** » Fri Apr 02, 2021 11:32 am

February 21st, 1916

Worry.

No feeling was superior to worry that day. It seemed as if even the high command was paranoid. News was transmitted to them only days prior, stating that German troops were advancing into Verdun, and that the approximately seventy-five divisions both near and around the city are to remain on high alert. He hadn't been this paranoid since the start of the war. Verdun was his birthplace, after all.
For a while, it appeared as if the "attack" wasn't going to happen. And for a moment, everything appeared calm.

And then, they came.

He then saw a wave of 600 German soldiers charging towards the trenches. Not only that, but the sound of artillery going off in the distance made it outright impossible to venture into no man's land, as if it wasn't deadly enough. The trenches were being overrun with Sturmtruppen, while the French troops charged at them, rifle in hand, ready to sacrifice themselves for the motherland. He then saw a german infantry soldier charging towards him, and so he picked up his rifle and began charging towards him.

The two soldiers had fought each other for five minutes, trying to overpower the other with the butts of their rifles. Though in the end, 049 had come out on top, pushing the soldier to the ground, and shoving his bayonet into his stomach. And again, and again, until he laid there, dead. At first, he didn't feel anything abnormal, though, after a few minutes, he felt sick. Sick at the fact that he had killed a man once again, that he took an innocent life, was to him, irredeemable. He hadn't killed anyone on the battlefield in 16 years, and such, he was uncomfortable with himself having killed a man in cold blood. He vomited on the ground, though he stopped when he felt that the rest of the troops had noticed him.

The thought of killing a man who has done no wrong to him was still something 049 had considered repulsive at best. The sheer thought of it was still fresh in his mind, even after decades, if not centuries, of combat experience.

This wasn't a one-time event, as this would occur for well over 200 days. Countless failed pushes, counter-attacks, and trench bombardments became frequent, if not monotonous. It was, evidently, tiring for the troops, and having to deal with near-endless stress had driven some of them insane. 200 days of endless bombardment, increasing casualties, and overall hopelessness had, in other words, led men to suicide.

Some would just, run into the enemy's bayonets, while others would suffocate themselves. The overwhelming majority of the casualties in the battle were as a result of suicide attempts having gone either terribly wrong or extremely successful.

"Wir sind verloren, With sind verloren"
Every night, he could hear chants, cries even, of tired, fatigued soldiers. Some of the happiest, most energetic men in his battalion had been reduced to shaken, almost dead men. They would constantly talk about how they wished to be killed if it meant not being in the front lines anymore. Some would break completely on the spot, while others were fighting an uphill battle to stay sane. It was becoming more and more gruesome by the day. The morale of every battalion present at the battle was declining every passing minute, and it was inevitable that mutinies would begin occuring. More and more trenches were filled with the bodies of young, otherwise normal, men. Men with a family, parents, and a future ahead of them back at home, lay dead on the mud. As the days passed, the weariness, the paranoia, and the mutinies got worse. In the end, a group of 57 French and German troops congregated to plan out the assassination of both Phillipe Petain and Erich von Falkenhayn, and 049 was one of them.

OCTOBER 16TH, 1916
Verdun, France
10:45PM
"Alright comrades, here we are." 049 said as he began welcoming the rest of the mutineers into the bunker.
"Now, what's the plan?" Asked a german soldier.
"The plan itself is rather simple. There are about 29 Frenchman and 28 Germans, one of us each go into their living quarters, place grenade with the safety pin still inside, lead them outsid-"
"Seems like a good plan, but how will we get the grenade in there? How will we lead them out? Most importantly, what will happen when the government finds out?" Asked a French soldier.
"Good question. The simplest answer to the first one is that they aren't in their quarters at the moment, meaning that once we return to our positions, then the plan will be executed. Now, troop suicides have been increasing, so we can use that as a diversion to shoot them. And besides, Falkenhayn is extremely unpopular among the German government, and Petain was outed as a spy for the Germans, so it wouldn't matter if both governments try hunting us down due to how massively unpopular they are already."
"Any more questions?"
After a five-minute period of silence, one of the troops responded.
"No, and we'll get onto it as soon as we can."
"Alright, I wish to see all of you on the battlefield tomorrow. Good luck comrades, this won't be an easy task. May god be with you all."
They all began leaving the bunker and as soon as they all left, 049 had felt something..odd. He could have sworn he had seen someone in the corner of the room a few minutes ago, yet they were gone. Then, he heard a loud scream, almost as if it was another soldier dying, he thought.

Yet the figure reappeared, this time much, much closer than the first time. "Get away from me!" He yelled, yet it wasn't of any use. She was a tall, pale woman, she had her right eye missing, her throat had a large slash running through the middle of it, and her hands, her hands were extremely mangled, as if she was mauled by a bear of some sorts. Though the moment he saw her, she disappeared again.

One of the officers heard the screaming and ran towards the bunker to see what was going on. To his surprise, he found 049 near the corner on the bottom right of the bunker.
"Corporal Antoine, are you alright?" Said the soldier in a heavy french accent.
"Comrade, I told you not to call me by that name, but yes, I am alright. I just tripped, is all."
"Alright, looks like you need sleep, comrade. The battlefield has been tiring, hasn't it?"
"Yes, it has been tiring. Now, I need to go to the barracks now, remind me when the plan is ready."

8:17 AM
OCTOBER 17TH, 1916
049 had awoken with a cough. It must have been the wind, he thought. Regardless, he didn't have enough time to process what happened last night, as a german sargent had stood near the doorway.
"The plan is ready, Herr Kommander." He said.
"Perfect, is everyone awake?"
"From what I know, everyone is ready, though we haven't picked a sniper yet."
"Ah, so who's the best option at the moment?"
"Rudolf Heinster, Austro-Hungarian infantry leader who left the Austro-Hungarian Army and was conscripted into the Kaiserliche Deutsche Armee once the war broke out. And from my knowledge, the French have chosen you."
"How come?"
"Not sure, but they want you at the trenches immediately."
Confused, he ran towards the trenches to see why he was chosen to kill Petain. He was informed that the majority of the troops did not wish to participate, but rather attempted to convince the mutineers to take them hostage instead. In the end, they decided to choose him due to the hesitancy and fatigue of the rest of the troops.
"Comrade, we've found out that Petain is arriving here at any moment to take the injured soldier that was attempting to shoot himself in the chest to the infirmary."
"Alright, so where do I hide?"
"Over there."
The soldier in question was pointing at a foxhole in the ground, meaning that 049 would have to be quick and steady. It would have been possible to use a tree, yet the majority were charred completely, which would make him both vulnerable to artillery fire, and a lack of cover. He grabbed his rifle and began running towards the foxhole. After that, he positioned himself, and said one more thing before the plan would truly commence.
"Comrades, just so that you know, in the event that this fails, remember one thing, that this plan was, simply put, not for our benefit, but for the benefit of Europe. The very fact that we are collaborating with our greatest enemy is a testament to that. Bonne chance camarades, et vive la France!"
As soon as he finished, Petain had arrived. He had appeared weary, tired, and overall, jaded. As if the war had desensitized him to his own men attempting to take their own life.
"Do not look at the enemy as human" 049 remembered that Petain had told the troops: "The enemy shall and will remain an adversary to our survival. Let it be known that the German's attempt to dominate us once more shall not be tolerated. Remember 1871!"
He took aim, and fired his shot.

SEPTEMBER 12TH, 2004
LA CORUÑA, GALICIAN SOCIALIST FEDERATION
6:00AM
"War is hell, isn't it?" Katerina had thought. She knew she wasn't alone in that sentiment, as the over 52,000 American volunteers had all experienced war at home. For some, this was the first war they have ever fought in, while the others, specifically 049, had much more combat experience and in turn, more trauma. This was 049's 10th or 11th? war he had participated, he wasn't fully sure. Regardless, this was her first war, and she was understandably nervous about it.
She remembered when this all started, it was barely the beginning of 2004, when ethnic tensions in Spain ruptured as a result of the French invasion. Only years prior did Spain experience massive social and political change when the Falangists created a semi-democratic dictatorship, in which the falanga although still held absolute power, were at the complete and utter mercy of the Spanish people. However, 15 years after that, the Carlists overthrew the government, and after increasing centralization, ethnic violence rising dramatically, and an economic recession, It became clear that Spain was running on borrowed time. January 4th, the beginning of the Galician War of Independence, had become Spain's final breath.

At first, the war was almost lost. However, both the MSA and the Międzymorze had sent volunteers, numbering in total 450,000. It didn't seem like much, but the Spanish Army had lost a significant amount of men due to the French invasion, defections, and the disastrous Asturias Campaign, in which 271,000 Spanish troops were encircled and killed due to a lack of supply. However, it was becoming clear to her that even if she won the war of liberation, the economy, the people, but most importantly, the country itself, would be in complete shambles.

The concern was slightly alleviated when she had noticed that 049 was among the 52,000 sent. She had known him for a little over ten years now, as such she knew how he functioned, and why he went to war. He would say that under no circumstance would he let troops, men that he had command over, die brutally on some godforsaken island 2,000 km away while he sat in a chair barking orders. He chose to lead his troops to death, no matter the cost.

Though, he noticed that she was there. And the moment he turned to see if she was really there, she saw an open notebook. She knew what that notebook was, he'd always use it when he was having a breakdown. Pages upon pages of "THE HEAD BITES THE TAIL AND IN DEATH THEY ARE BORN" written in large, rather visible writing, and a drawing of an ouroboros strangling him, were visible from that distance. She was, despite well aware of this, rather disturbed by this. She hadn't seen him this bad in years.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He replied, though she could barely understand what he was saying.
"You sure? You definetely do not look, or sound fine."
"I'm fine, trust me."
"Then why the hell can I barely understand what you're saying?"
"Oh, I just haven't had a conversation in a while."
"I really don't believe yo- is that a gash on your eyes?" She asked.
Nervous, he attempted to hide it as best as he could, yet that had revealed a large, likely fresh, cut on his hand. She had noticed it, and she was finding more of them, all scattered across his arms. She even found a rather large, fairly recent gash across his arm. While this was happening, he gave her a searching, uncertain glance. She had found more small cuts and gashes across his arms, all of them appeared recent. She stared wide-eyed at the wounds, almost expressionless. She was finding more and more wounds. And the more she found, her expression became one of worry, concern, and fear.

She had taken off his mask, and for the first time in years she had seen his face. He had brown eyes, dark, curly hair, pale skin, and a smile. A fake smile, one to mask the pain, the horror that one would experience in almost a millennium of life would be enough to drive a normal man insane. His eyes weren't much different either, as if the emotional baggage of war was becoming too much for him. And yet, he kept insisting that he was fine, that he was always fine, and that it'll eventually end. Yet deep down, both of them knew how bad it's become.
"You, you aren't fine at all.

Please, respond."

That was enough to shake him out of it. He could no longer ignore the cuts on his arms, he was in pain. He couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed a pistol near him, and placed it on her hands.
"Do it, I'm sorry for everything I put you through."
She was hesitant about it, and she had replied:
"No, just no. I can't hurt you at all. Your my friend, I just, I just-
I can't do it, I want to help you. I just want to see you happy, and I don't know how. I don't enjoy seeing you like this. Please, let me help you."
It wasn't enough to calm him down, as the laughter had begun again. She didn't know what to do, as she wasn't fully prepared for this situation. She then saw him pull out a radio, and began playing Samba de Orly. The song's cheery feeling was a stark contrast to the dark, stressful feeling of that day. Yet she knew that it was only a matter of time before he'd try hurting himself, or her.

She tried finding a nurse as soon as she could, but by the time she began running:

*bang*

The music had stopped, and all she could do was assume that the worst had happened. She was, to say the least, devastated. And to add on to that, his barracks were completely empty, with only a blood puddle on the floor, yet no body. Almost as if he had disappeared completely.

All the memories, all of the bonds, the mutual respect towards each other, and their relationship, was all gone. She couldn't accept the fact that he could be alive, she couldn't accept that she wasn't responsible for it, but most importantly, she couldn't move on. She hasn't had that monumental of a loss in years. She couldn't deal with the death of her greatest friend, all she could do after that was constantly blame herself for an event put of her control.

For now, all she could do was cry. She sat on the ground, and began sobbing uncontrollably. She couldn't handle the fact that one of her own friends, one that she had been around with for years up until that point, had lost control of himself. She became aware of his mental ills only years prior, yet she still couldn't deal with that reality. He was, to her, dead, finally succumbing to years of trauma.

PRESENT DAY

Fear and Excitement.

Those two words best described that day. Neither 049 or Katerina had expected to bump into each other, and they both wanted to, at least, try and move on from September 12th. Yet they were there, sitting right next to each other, confused, and surprised, but happy to see eachother again. Katerina had went to Macronesia to visit a fellow socialist country, and to hopefully try and take a break from the mess that unfolded in Iberia after the war. While 049 had gone to the islands to simply hunt down and execute Himmler's excuse of a fraudster, embezzler and pseudo-mercenary son of a bitch, whom was named after his own degenerate of a father. After that happened, 049 would nearly enter a catatonic state, of which she noticed was him having the psychotic breakdown in a car, and ended up dragging him out of it. They didn't know what else to say to each other.and after a ten-minute silence, 049 would end up being the one to speak.
"So uhhhhh, what's happened these past few years? I sent you e-mails explaining that I was alright. I figured you were worried, so I tried talking to you, yet you'd either ignore me or say that that wasn't me. You alright?"
All she did was stare at him, almost in tears. She was beyond convinced that he, he was dead, that he can't be alive. Even if he was trying to talk to her, trying to see if she was even alright, she'd always argue with him, saying that he's dead, saying that someone, anyone is lying to her.

And she couldn't hold it back anymore. She immediately broke into tears, hugging him and putting her head on his shoulder. He could feel the tears running down his back. "She's colder", he thought. She was, at one point, warm to the touch. She was happy at one point, she wasn't this emotional before, she was a shell, a husk of her former self.

He didn't know how to help her. He didn't know what to do to make her happy, to make her feel reassured. Regardless, he tried as best as he could. He wasn't going to leave his friend, his only friend, in such a state. He hugged her, put his head on her shoulder, and said to her:
"I'll be here for you, I'll always be here for you, I want to help you. Everything will be alright."
About 15 or so minutes later
She began to feel better, now that she was being hugged. She was still a mess, that was for sure, but she now knew that he would care for her. Though, they had to start heading to the villa soon. He noticed that she was doing better, and tried asking her something. Yet he couldn't, and for about a few seconds, everything was rather awkward. She was staring at him, this time with a small smirk on her face.
"So uhh, do we go now?" She asked.
"Yeah, I think it's time." He replied.
He put the key in the ignition, and it let out a small, rather quiet roar. "It's time has come" he thought.
"So uhhh, you want to-"
"Burn and destroy this piece of shit car?" She replied.
"Yeah, you took the words right out of my mouth."
"Good. So this a Christmas party, right?"
"Yeah, pretty much. How come?"
"I didn't bring anything with me."
"No worries, I got some stuff you can give to them. Like a beret, or a pillow for example."
"Alright, seems good. You got a spare gun on you?"
"Yep, here you go"
He handed her a Benelli M4 shotgun he had in the back of the car. It was unloaded, the barrel was just barely cold, indicating that he fired it.
"You killed that fascist, didn't you?"
"Definitely, sniped the bastard last night. Wasted half the shells I had on me."
"Good. So, should we go?"
"Yeah, sorry."
He stepped on the gas, and began making way towards the villa.

by **Socialist Macronesia** » Fri Apr 02, 2021 2:47 pm

Ross would have responded to Marco's comments had he not stormed off immediately and tried to drive away. But Ross now had bigger problems on his hands. Nate had definitely just committed second-degree murder. Which, by the standards applied to Nate as a military leader, meant absolutely nothing would happen. This incident would be blamed on something entirely different, and luckily for Ross, although he didn't know it at the time, the perfect excuse was already setting up a Polish 60mm light mortar on the nearby hill at the time. But for now, he needed to get Nate away from Paris and Patyu lest he kill someone more important. So he snagged Nate by the waist and tossed him into an unoccupied bedroom. He bolted the door. The sound insulation was hopefully good enough to block out the partygoers from hearing their conversation. Nate by now was firmly wedged in the covers of the bed yet again.

"Nate." Ross put his head in his hands. "Do... can... should I even ask what's up with you?" Nate didn't reply. "Nate... I... I don't even know what to say. What's... what's... why are... ugggg. What's up between you and Paris and Patyu and whoever else is involved in this... whatever you have going on?"

Nate finally found the courage to speak. "I... I..." His voice trembled. "I was just... I'm just... so lonely."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I..." He sniffled. "I... had a crush on Patyu. But I was stupid and I didn't bring it up and then you... you tried to... and I helped her and then we went apart and then Paris took her and they... they... did... that... and... then you and Ari and the shipping container and I was... I was... so stupid and Paris was smarter and I..." Another sniffle. "I... couldn't let go... but nobody cared because everyone was mean and didn't give a damn about my feelings because I'm a soldier and I'm not supposed to have feelings... and then Paris left Patyu and made him cry... and then I blew it and then Sarah tried to lock me in that box with those pills but I didn't want to be in the stupid fucking box I hate it I hate it--"

"Let's calm down, Nate..."

"I... don't want to calm down. I'm tired of being lonely. I'm tired of being cold and alone and not having anyone to care about me and I don't want to fucking settle anymore. I..." The jump underneath the covers shifted. "I want somebody who loves me and cares about me and maybe, just maybe, would kiss me once in a while and loved me and... and maybe even... maybe even would be willing to... to... sleep next to me at night... no, that's ambitious, I..." Nate couldn't help but smile. "I don't think we'd ever get that far. I'd settle for... no I don't want to fucking SETT--"

Ross moved over and sat next to Nate. "Nate... and how long has this been going on for?"

"Two... months. Ever since Halloween. And... when they..."

Ross reached over and patted what he guessed was Nate's shoulder. "I... I'm sorry."

Nate moved his head a few inches towards the opening. "And... I hate working with papers all day and writing things that are meaningless and not talking to people and... and not being back in... I miss... I miss being a soldier. I... had friends and comrades and... and... and... and people who... would die for me... and now that's all gone. And I have... nobody. I have a house... and that's everything. I... I... miss it. And now I'll never... I'll never..." His voice broke. "And now I'll never have that again. It's... gone. Forever..." And then he flew from the covers and tackled Ross in a hug. "I'm... just so lonely."

"I'm sorry, Nate. I wish I could do something. But... I can't help you."

"I know," Nate sniffled. "Just... be here. That's all I want. Be here for me."

The two sat in an embrace for some time. Finally Ross broke the silence.

"So... do you still love Patyu?" Nate contemplated the question for a minute.

"...I think I do. It's just... she doesn't love me and... I don't know why!"

"Can you think of why she might not?"

Nate sat up. "I... don't know. Can... can I use the bathroom?"

Ross helped him up. "Sure, buddy." Nate made his way to the bathroom.

Why doesn't Patyu love me? This was a question that would require deep thought. And Nate couldn't get that while he was talking to Ross. So Nate silently cracked open the window and began to slide out.

Why doesn't Patyu love me? I mean, what could I have possibly done to make her not love me? What could have I done? He fell from the window down on top of a security guard, who he promptly kicked in the neck for good measure, breaking it. I'm not an asshole, am I? I helped her through... Ross's... desires. He came across another security guard and silently crept up behind him. I'm not gonna ditch her like Paris. He grabbed the guard's mouth with one hand and plunged a knife into the right side of his throat with the next, wringing it around until both jugulars were severed, spraying the side of the mansion with blood. Nate let the body fall to the grass. Maybe she thinks I'll leave her. Then I guess I just have to reassure her that I would NEVER-- he hosed down a nearby guard who had seen him with his suppressed submachine gun --leave her like that. Because that was just cold. So what else could it be? He came across another sentry. Am I not good-looking or something? He readied his garrote. Even if I'm not super pretty, that shouldn't make a huge difference, right? He tried to strangle the sentry, but accidentally decapitated them instead. They say what's on the inside counts more, right? He stepped over the body. Is it because I'm not rich? That shouldn't make a difference. He charged at one guard and slashed at his throat with his paws, then hit him on the back of the neck, sending him tumbling to the floor. He snapped the neck for good measure.

If she was that petty, I'd never have started liking her in the first place. One of the guards came around the corner, and Nate got him in the face with a throwing knife, killing him instantly. So it's not that... So what else is there to not like? He came around the corner and saw a guard about to radio in about the multiple dead bodies he had just found. Nate punched him in the gut, kicked out his legs from under him, and stabbed him in the back. My breath smells fine. He withdrew the knife and promptly used it to stab yet another guard that had rounded the corner. Is it because I'm atheist? I'd happily learn the ways of the Sky-Mother if I got to be in a relationship with Patyu. He reloaded his submachine gun. Maybe it's because I'm not tall enough for her? He heard footsteps from around the corner and leapt out with his knife, giving the females a point on the board. That could be it.

Ross had been wondering if Nate had left and tried to escape when he heard the toilet flush and the door unlock.

"Okay, Nate-- HOLY SHIT!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"JESUS CHRIST, NATE, YOU'RE HALF COVERED IN BLOOD! WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Oh, yeah. Anyway, I think it's got to be either my height or my weight. I'm not too tall, and I've put on some pounds since Halloween. It's subtle, but I think it makes a difference." Ross moaned.

"Did... you... who did you kill?"

"Rest of your security team." Ross took a step backwards.

"Oh my God..."

"Fourteen in all. That blonde woman you had put up a real fight, by the way. You made a good hiring decision there. Gave me this nasty scar on my fac--"

"Did you not just think to ask Patyu?"

"Oh, right. I'll go do that."

"But not now, Nate, you--"

He opened the door, stepped through the partygoers, and went out to the back patio. Nate opened the door and stepped out. "Hey, Patyu, real quick question: what is it about me that you don't find appealing? Is it my height or my weight?"

by **Main Nation Ministry** » Fri Apr 02, 2021 3:52 pm

The Party

As Zlata and Jerald were trying to mingle, both of them ended up next to each other, as the party was still underway. "Any luck with the Ross fellow?" Jerald said, having a glass of punch, which he drank a bit. "I didn't ask. I checked around the ballroom, but I don't think Kevin is here." Zlata said, as she heard someone let out a laugh. "There isn't a lot to do here. You think Kevin is still somewhere on the island?" Jerald asked her, since both were getting concerned that Kevin Cross was still nowhere to be seen. "Maybe we should both talk to Ross together? I don't want anything bad to happen, but I worry if we leave without Kevin, we might accidently cause something. Like an international incident." Zlata explained to Jerald, as he took another sip of punch.

It wasn't until a yell from Ross broke some concertation. Jerald and Zlata went to see what had happened to notice that Ross was yelling at someone at the door that led to the back patio. "Something happened?" Jerald said, as he walked to the scene, where Zlata followed behind him. Ross can be seen, dragging Nate away, which raised an eyebrow from Jerald, until he saw the corpse of the security guard. His neck was broken, as several people looked on at the scene in shock. Jerald heard Marco being enraged, where he wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how to process the scene. It wasn't until Zlata noticed someone. There was a woman. She had.. cat ears and a tail? She was sobbing and on the verge of breaking down. She buried her head into the shoulder of a white-haired man. However, to Zlata, there was something almost familiar about this woman. The way she behaved. It reminded her of someone she met in the beach.

"H...Hey?" Zlata went up to the woman, however she was still wanting to rest her head onto the man's shoulder. "Are you ok? I can.. I can get you some punch." Zlata said, though her voice was rather meek. "This is dreadful. I didn't expect a man to die here. I'm rather concerned about the security of this nation.." Jerald thought, as some guards were trying to dump the body of the guard into a bush. "Don't make things act bad, Grubic!" Zlata said, feeling a bit of wanting to express herself. "Apologies. We might need to consult to someone about the issue that is happening.." Jerald wanted to say more, until Nate returned to the back patio.

"EKKKK!!" Zlata was horrified at what she saw. The man was half-covered in blood! Jerald immediately stepped in front of Zlata to make sure she wasn't hurt, however both didn't know what the man wanted.

by **Brettenwald** » Fri Apr 02, 2021 6:02 pm

"Gods, I wish Marco hadn't sent Helena back home, she handles emotional situations so much better than I do, but considering what just went on in there it was definitely the right call to make. You'll see her again at the wedding, I hope, if we're even invited after Marco coming at Ross and Nate firing from both barrels in there... okay, okay, I'll stop fucking rambling and get to the point..." Paris sighed deeply as another star winked into view in the night sky. "I've never been the most emotionally or verbally articulate person, so I apologize if this takes a long time to get out. There's some background I need to get into as well."

"My brother and I are, as I'm sure you've noticed, two very different people. For twins who emerged from the same woman's womb five minutes apart, we might as well be from different planets. I got the short end of the stick: second in line to the throne, never as big and strong and athletic, not as good-looking, not as charming or articulate or cultured, hell, I didn't even equal Marco in rank despite us being in the military at the same time, since he stayed in longer. I did get consistently higher grades in school, but since I'll probably never have a career in the real world that doesn't mean shit. And the thing is that I have always been painfully aware of this. Nobody ever actually said anything so cruelly obvious, of course. It was more a matter of how much attention we we were paid, how much love and affection we received, how much we were praised or scolded for our behavior, and every time I thought about it I came to the conclusion that Marco wasn't outrageously good at life, I was just being judged and found lacking. Our family's intrapersonal dynamic probably contributes to a lot of this: I hate Marco for constantly being so obnoxiously better than me and never missing an opportunity to remind me of that, Marco thinks I'm an effeminate jerk, Helena hates our father for the reason that a lot of this is his fault, and our father doesn't hate us but has said and done things directed at Marco that have deeply affected him as a man, the reasons for which I am most definitely not allowed to tell you. I mean, theoretically I could, but it would involve violating a blood oath, you'd believe it more coming from Marco anyway, and he'd eschew listening to the technical arguments in my favor in favor of just punching me in the face if he found out that I told you."

"Perhaps things would be different if our mother hadn't died giving birth to Helena, I can only assume so given that from what I've heard about her over the years she was a very warm and loving woman with something of a forceful personality, and those attributes would likely have at least softened the blows. It's water under the bridge now anyway, has been since 1999. We were instead raised by turns by aunts & uncles and a succession of nannies and governesses, since my father believed child-rearing was woman's work and preferred to run a country rather than raise his children. We were educated at home until high school, and despite 14 being an awkward age Marco took to the real world like a duck to water. I... well, I didn't. Too socially awkward, too stiff, too formal. Being royalty meant that we were practically revered as gods, but whereas Marco exulted in the attention I absolutely despised it. And then we graduated and went to university where essentially the same thing happened, we did our two years in the military, he stayed in for another cycle of service- or would have, anyway, it's not my place to tell you what happened - and then Father had some medical scares and had Marco and I take over jointly in the middle of 2019, and here we are."

"The reason I've told you all this is because throughout all the time I've had relationships with with girls, women once we all grew up enough to refer to ourselves as adults, I have had absolutely no damned luck whatsoever. Marco may be up to his neck in dropped panties with his big flashy car and his impeccable fashion sense and his good looks, but nobody wants the lean, bony, unattractive second best, do they? No, I've never had that kind of appeal or the ability to connect with the rare ones I do appeal to. Lisanne was something of a last-ditch effort arranged by a mutual friend, but though we hit it off decently enough at first and the sex wasn't bad that's hardly a starting point for a relationship when everything else eventually fades away, is it?. We were on our way out well before you and I-" Paris held Patyu a little closer- "what happened, so please don't beat yourself up about that. You had nothing to do with her and myself beginning to separate, I'll swear to that on any religious text you like. I used you, Patyu. I needed a relief valve from years of loneliness and depression and social isolation, and you were in the wrong place at time, you were someone who would just love me for myself and you weren't going to keep comparing me to fucking Marco and grind it into me that I didn't measure up, and I needed that too much to let you go. I used you for my own pleasure, just scooped you up and got you in bed before you could think twice about it and didn't even-" Paris started crying, hot tears running down and soaking his shirt's collar, holding Patyu tighter. "Didn't even have the fucking decency to stay and say goodbye and thank you or apologize in person, because I was such a coward I was scared you'd hate me or not recognize me or be scared of the real me and just threw you out like a piece of trash on the side of the road instead. I've hurt you, I've hurt myself, I've dishonored my family, and if there's anyone who should be beating themselves up about this whole shitty situation it's me, Patyu. I am so, so sorry for everything I've done to you and to get us into this mess. Please, forgive me." And so the prince held his one-time lover, and cried, and begged for forgiveness, and loved. Or at least he did so until a disturbingly familiar figure covered in an even more disturbing amount of blood threw open the patio doors, and Patyu screamed. Or at least he would have heard the scream if a large silver Mercedes-Benz hadn't suddenly made its presence known in an explosion of glass, wood and wicker, discharging a pair of occupants who just happened to be the two people in the world Paris most wanted to see at the exact moment he most wanted to see them.

After making sure s/he was alright and generally calming down, Marco had invited Khensu out for another visit to the Drunken Parrot and the two were on their way in a silence that was both awkward and yet somehow oddly comfortable until Marco swore violently in his mother tongue and yanked the handbrake, spinning the car in a violent 180^o and slamming his fists on the steering wheel before burying his head in his hands. "What the fuck was I THINKING!" he roared. Khensu looked bewildered. "What-" Marco swore again. "I've just left my brother alone with a man who wants to kill him and I'm trusting fucking Ross to make sure he's safe?! Khensu, is there a large, fancy knife in the glovebox? Yeah? Great. Hold on tight." The SUV once again roared off, this time heading back towards the house it had left in a similar manner and at one point cracking 100 miles per hour on roads it was most definitely not designed to do so on. Paying extra for the rental insurance had been an excellent idea. It proved to be an even better idea when Marco misjudged the point at which Ross' driveway ended, hit the brakes a split second too late, and instead of taking out his garage door cranked the wheel to the left and chose to obliterate a good chunk of his patio furniture instead. "Hand me the knife. Thanks." Marco walked cautiously towards the cowering pair on the flagstones and the crazed figure shadowed in the light, Khensu following behind him. "Paris, Patyu, are you two okay? Nate, let's not do anything rash here, no one wants to hurt you..."

by **Socialist Macronesia** » Sat Apr 03, 2021 10:55 am

Sarah shrugged. "Not really. Mostly just going to school nowadays. I've been trying to get out and do stuff on the weekends, but there's not a whole lot to do here besides work and school. I'd go on vacation, but not many places are eager to take Macronesian tourists. We have a bit of a reputation. But I've been thinking about visiting Liberia sometime next year. I might be able to squeeze in on an arms transport. It's a beautiful place, if you discount some of the more... man made problems. There's also a couple islands out here in the Pacific that might be nice, but I really want to go somewhere not so similar to this place. Kazakhstan would be cool. Maybe Mongolia? I kind of want to get away from it all. You know, all the hustle of the city life and the sweltering heat and all that stuff? But yeah, you got any places you'd like to travel to? And while we're on the topic of places, where exactly are you from? You're certainly not from here. Not that that's a bad thing."

by **Bogi Smerti** » Sun Apr 04, 2021 12:28 pm

TIMESKIP TO 6:00PM

"Alright, we made it."

They had finally arrived to the villa. After a near complete engine failure, both of them had decided to get rid of the car today. Katerina had begun to feel a lot better now that she was reassured. Though, she noticed that 049 had tensed up once they arrived. "He's nervous, or probably hallucinating." She thought.
"Hey, you alright man?" She asked.

"Yeah, just nervous about even being there. You think I'll make myself look like a fool?" He replied, noticeably stressed.

"Nah, sure it's been a while since you've spoken in public, or even went in public, but I think you'll grown on them eventually. Your fun to talk to, you know?"

"Thanks, and so are you. Last I even spoke in public was...."

"1996?"

"Yeah, before it all began. And 1994, 1994 was the worst year up until that point."

"Yeah, let's not talk about that right now."

Both of them looked over their shoulders in fear. Even a slight mention of what happened in 1994 was considered treason against the state, up until 1996, of course. He was already in a panic, as he had a rather unimportant, but horrific hallucination while driving. It was, familiar, he had seen it before, but he didn't know what it wa-

Apis.

The Black Hand.

She then realized why he was panicking.
"You saw him, didn't you?" She asked in a concerned voice.

"Yeah. We should talk about this later." He replied.

"Well, fuck. Just hope he doesn't come back. You alright?"

"Just worried, but I'm fine. We gotta go in now."

Both of them got their guns, the gifts, and got out of the car. He was wearing his outfit from the day prior, albeit with some differences. Instead of regular running shoes, he wore the standard combat boots of the UAFMSA, or the Unified Armed Forces of the Minarchist States of America. While not comfortable, they were designed to last the average soldier for about 18-24 months before they wore down completely, or about 8 months of Basic Combat Training and a regular combat tour, at minimum. He had an armband on his right arm with the Cross of Lorraine, as an homage to the Free French Army, and his time in the resistance.

While she was, simply put, rather basic, but great. She had been wearing thigh highs, along with a skirt to match with it. Her glasses were at the right size, and her eyes were that of nature in the Sea of Cortez, beautiful to look at.

Both had arrived at the door, and had knocked on it. Though, the door was unlocked, so they had gone in, and sat down. The villa itself was rather stunning, the place had felt, comfortable, almost like they were back at home. It was enough to forget about their own issues for the moment.

Though, the mear thought of Apis, the Black Hand, or anything on the database was enough to spark a permanent sense of dread, uneasiness, and terror. He was the embodiment of knowing too much, of terror, fear, and famine. He was, simply put, one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, a punishment from the Lord. A man, merciless in his bloodlust, ready to cause destruction everywhere he followed.

They had to ignore it, they just didn't know how.

by **Kiu Ghesik** » Tue Apr 06, 2021 9:14 pm

Ari nodded at Sarah's proposal, not quite recognizing the entirety of the names she'd used, but similarly not interested in making herself look entirely out of the loop. She recognized at least two of those places; Liberia she'd heard far too much about on this island for it to go unknown to her, and Kazakhstan had seemed relatively like home when she'd taken a quick examination of an atlas. Sarah, it seemed, had good taste. But her next question was far harder to answer.

"I... huh." Awkwardly, she stepped back from the punch bowl, one hand scratching the back of her neck. "You know, I don't really know how to explain it. It's... it's definitely not from here, or anywhere remotely close to here, I... if you've got time I can try and get at it later, but I need either a very strong drink or a bit more sleep than I got last night to manage it. Sorry." Her cheeks, Ari noted, had flushed red. That... that wasn't a good sign. She wanted to be able to talk about her home, she wanted to gush about the wonders of the Basin- but for some reason, it all felt incredibly quaint now, and... just so far away.

But it wasn't time to dwell on that now. There were more pressing matters at hand.

"Uh..." Ari's eyes fell away from Sarah, tracking a rather familiar-looking albeit somehow red-tinted woman muscling her way through the ballroom and out towards the patio. That... wouldn't have been concerning, if it weren't for two things: One, she had come from the general direction of Ross, and two, that red was incredibly, incredibly deep.

The woman stepped outside, and shortly thereafter a crash shook the ballroom. The number of people who took pause at that was disturbingly low- well, it would've been, if it hadn't been for the fact that this was Socialist Macronesia. Somehow, though... better make that three- Ross was involved in all this, in some way, some manner, or some fashion. Women, the color red, and loud noises were three things that tended to follow him like moths to a flame.

And so, shouting a hasty goodbye at Sarah over her shoulder- "Hey, nice talking with you, but I've got to check up on something-" Ari began to make her way towards where she hoped Ross would be. Fortunately, he was- just inside the door from the ballroom, actually.

Unfortunately, though, his suit appeared to be covered in red, just as the woman had been. And upon closer inspection that red was most definitely blood. Absolutely wonderful.

"Uh..." She gently made her way to his side and took his hand in her own. Somehow, it too was coated in blood. "...John? Would you mind, uh, telling me what happened here?" And, of course, there was the other question. The one that would never be asked, and thus was fated to go unanswered: Why in the name of God does every party I have to go to end up turning into my own personal hell? Why can't I just have a nice, quiet night with you for once?

There were a million things Patyu wanted to say.

That Paris had nothing to be sorry for. That it was still Patyu's fault, no matter what Paris said. That she could have done more, could have helped more. That she would have loved him somehow, some way, even if he wasn't the person she had met two months ago. That it didn't matter what he thought- she was still wrong, because if she wasn't, she wouldn't be like this. Wouldn't have rendered his life a flaming pile of nothingness. Wouldn't have made him like her. Wouldn't, wouldn't, wouldn't- couldn't. If Patyu were a better person, a decent person, a person worthy of forgiveness, then she couldn't have done all that.

But Patyu could say none of it. Perhaps it was her understanding that somewhere, she was wrong about herself. Perhaps it was just cowardice- that was certainly a trait that had always fitted her perfectly well. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was preoccupied with acting as Paris' impromptu hug-ball. That one certainly had a good deal to do with it; it was rather hard to act the part of the self-pitying little bitch when you had someone who honestly, genuinely cared about you crying molten tears into your neck, and even harder when that person was over a foot taller than you and hugging you into the ground.

So instead Patyu swallowed, forcing her doubt and her terror and her fear down her throat, and wrapped Paris in a mutual hug, her own wafer-thin arms wrapped around his own. They were... similar, in an odd, impossible way. Patyu wasn't royalty, of course, far from it; he- she- had lived a life of abject poverty by most every reasonable standard. The only time that hadn't been true had been the hours Paris had pampered her for. And she wasn't related to anyone particularly important- her father, God rest his soul, had been a mere hunter. But they were both seconds. Patyu was Ari's ateghn, or she had been, and by the looks of things Paris was at least some level of unwilling friend to Marco- as brothers should have been. They had that, at least, in common. And it was a start.

That was what they needed, Patyu thought. They no longer had that spark between them, and in her gut Patyu knew that it would be impossible to reignite. But Patyu... didn't want it. She didn't want to feel sick, abandoned, used, and she didn't want Paris to ever, ever, ever feel that way again. She wanted to be there for him, and having something in common was at least a start. They could make this up- she could fix it. And, more importantly, something inside her told her that she needed to.

Thusly resolved, she pulled Paris into a tighter still hug, and finally managed to force a few words to trickle past the blockage in her throat to mingle with hers' and Paris' tears. "I... I d-do, I f-"

And then, unwanted, an interloper stepped into the fray, appraised the two of them laying on the flagstone locked in each other's arms, and all too bluntly said, "Hey, Patyu, real quick question: what is it about me that you don't find appealing? Is it my height or my weight?"

Patyu stopped, froze, and sniffed the air. Blood. There was blood here- blood coating Nate, seeping into his uniform, dripping off his hands to leave sinful red blotches on the patio stone, smeared across his face like a warrior's terror marks. And like a warrior's markings, it was most certainly not his own. She blanched. And then something within her twisted, wrenched, and broke.

Patyu's answer, dutifully composed, notarized, packaged, and mailed to Nate consisted of the metaphysical blockage in her throat slipping free and producing a torrent of all too physical vomit spewed down the back of Paris' coat.

Khensu had been... well, surprised wasn't the proper word at how Marco not promptly either losing it or causing him grievous body harm upon seeing him had made him feel, but dumbstruck, shocked, and completely floored all served as adequate substitutes. Offering him another drink, of all things, was the definition of unexpected. Thus, when Marco proceeded to turn the car around at a speed best defined as "in violation of several traffic laws, were there any on this island, and likely several physical laws regarding how vehicles are meant to behave when subjected to rapid changes in direction", and Khensu found a long shock of hair he didn't precisely know he had swinging around his head and wrapping around his eyes.

When that momentary obstruction cleared, he saw something rather different: a panicked Marco, a jungle road passing by very quickly underfoot, and a gesture to a glovebox. Sliding it open he beheld an absolute beauty of a knife- gleaming steel, engraved, leather-wrapped hilt, the works- and begrudgingly passed it to Marco's grip. It really was a piece of work- if he could've kept it he would.

But fate, apparently, had other plans. Those plans similarly involved the vehicle he and Marco inhabited jumping a curb, trying desperately to skid to a stop on nothing but thin air, and implanting its nose into the wall of Ross' villa by way of a patch of shrubbery and an ornately-wrought fence, both of which disappeared underneath a now-dented hood with a crash and a distressing crunch respectively. Marco vaulted out of the car, knife in hand, and muscled his way through a gathered crowd to face a blood-drenched woman standing over two huddled figures with an odd, befuddled, yet strangely serene look on her face.

On his face.

It was Nate.

And there was a body lying next to him. Dead. Judging by the blood coating him that body likely wasn't the only one. A quick glance at the two huddled figures proved Khensu's following unfortunate suspicion immediately correct. One of them was indeed Patyu- or rather, the woman calling herself Patyu. Khensu's charge.

Marco stepped forward, knife at his side. Nate shot him a leery glance, and the blade crept up just an inch. "Paris, Patyu, are you two okay? Nate, let's not do anything rash here, no one wants to hurt you..."

You idiot, Khensu thought. I'm absolutely certain this raving madman wants to hurt you. He stepped forward, fists balled, unconscious of the fact that his, er, tail had fallen into a hunched, taut wire. "Speak for yourself," he muttered. But before the tension in the air could crack, before Marco was forced to use that knife at his waist, a number of things happened in quick succession.

Firstly, Patyu began to gag and promptly emptied the meager contents of her stomach on Paris' back.

Secondly, the door burst open, and Ross stormed out, dragging Nate back inside.

And thirdly, a very short woman not unlike Patyu in her present appearance screamed.

The former of those two Khensu could not immediately do anything about. But the third- that woman was right next to him. He could manage that, at least. And so he sidled next to her and gently coughed, waiting for her and her companion to turn to her. Thankfully Khensu chose to ignore the fact that her companion was that pompous man Jerald- that could wait for later. "Ahem," he growled, doing his best to bring his voice to a smoother tone. "Are you two... alright?"

by **Main Nation Ministry** » Tue Apr 06, 2021 10:48 pm

OOC Note: I used the movie Scrooged as inspiration for my posts for Kevin Cross. However, this post was actually uncomfortable to write, so I know that some readers might be uncomfortable as well.

by **Socialist Macronesia** » Fri Apr 09, 2021 9:33 pm

Ross sighed. "Don't... don't ask. I'm having a hard time figuring this all out myself. I'll explain the whole situation later." He shot a glance at Nate, then at Patyu, then at Paris. "It's very complicated and... well... I have to go, please excuse me. I'll see you around. Why don't you try to meet up with some of the delegates for me?"

Patyu... had thrown up. On Paris. Nate thought for a second. I don't really care, I think he deserved it, but... still, ew. Nate snapped back to reality, shrugged, and shot Paris an uncomfortable glance. "Oh, I'm s--" And then all of a sudden there was a crash and a car went flying and everyone had surrounded Patyu and him and Nate was confused and people were backing away and saying things, strange things, but Nate had stopped caring because he had stopped putting care into what everyone else thought and it was getting noisy and loud and confusing and Nate was stressed...

...he stepped back inside. "Well, I didn't really get a coherent answer there, Ross, and hey, where are we going?" But Ross had grabbed him from the collar and was dragging him back to the bedroom, muttering something, probably curses, under his breath. He once again bolted the door, being sure to not get too much blood all over the place, particularly the carpet, or at least as much as he could prevent it, opened the bathroom, flung Nate into the bathtub, and yanked the water on.

Nate hissed and tried to get out of the bathtub, but the whole tub was slippery, probably from all the blood, and the water was cold, ice cold, and Nate just wanted to curl up into a ball and die because Ross had been warm but now he wasn't and he deserved to die... or at least... go away... mnhhhmnnhhhm... so... cold... He couldn't even move; he probably could have if he wanted to, but he didn't want to, so he just... sat there.

Making a mental list, he began to consider who deserved to die next. The order probably went Ross, then Paris, then Khensu, then maybe Marco, then Ari, then Patyu. He considering sparing Patyu, but ultimately decided against it. The problem was, of course, that all five of the former were quite strong and probably had a weight and height advantage, maybe not so much with Ari. But there were plenty of ways to even the playing field, so he didn't worry too much.

Then again, he would have to find a way out of the bathroom first. And considering that Ross was standing right next to him, it would be a little difficult. And also because the cold was starting to make his vision blurry and everything was sort of... swaying around...

And then everything clicked into place.

It didn't matter. Nate could kill one man or one million men. He could choose to kill no one at all. But in the end, it didn't matter. He would never get Patyu for himself. He would never get revenge on Paris. He could torture, kill, execute everyone in the whole world, but it would never make up for it. He had lost something. It was his choice of what to do next. Taking lives was fun. It didn't make up for anything, it just... distracted him from his problems. And then...

"Ross..."

"What is it now, Nate?" Ross snarled.

"You... aren't... as nice... as..."

"What does that mean?"

"You promised..." Nate sat up. "...you promised me you would reward me."

"What?"

"I... saved your life... and you left me. I saved my fellow soldiers... and you weren't there for me. I... I was the best soldier. I lasered you... I helped you take over the government... and this is how I'm rewarded."

"I--"

Nate jumped from the tub, his dress uniform dripping bloody water. He grabbed Ross by the throat.

"I gave you all, and had none, just to have you here by me. And this is how you repay me, you piece of shit? And everyone wants to coddle and cuddle Patyu because "oh, he's got more problems than you." Maybe Patyu needs it more than I do. Maybe I'm an irredeemable no-good psychopathic murderer and she or he or whatever I'm supposed to call them is depressed and mentally hurt by my actions. And wouldn't that be the goddamn truth! But I don't care. I want her to be happy with Paris or someone who's right for her. I want to be happy too. And if I can't have Patyu, then I'm going to bitch and moan, sure, but then what do I have to do? I'll tell you: I have to take it up the ass and deal with it! Well, John, I'm sick and fucking tired of dealing with shit! When is SoMac going to write something good happening to me? When do I get my reward for saving your ass from coup after coup after coup? When do I get someone to coddle and cuddle me? Oh, right, I don't get that, because I'm a murderous bastard. But a man needs somebody. Or he's gotta go alone. Or else he goes fucking nuts and murderers everyone. And I'm tired of walking the line here. Since I've got nobody, I suppose I'll be going alone. I wish you the best of luck with Ari. I wish Patyu the best of luck with Paris. And I hope Sylvia and Julienne and Furia and his wife and Marco and his girlfriend enjoy each other's company. But there's nothing left for me here." He yanked a knife out of his bag. "Take this and hold it for me. I will run until I can run no longer. Have a good life. Just know it'll never be enough. It's never enough to stop the inevitable."

With that said, Nate dove out the bathroom window. The neatly stacked pile of bodies broke his fall. He dusted off the grass stains from his pants, slung his bag over his shoulder, and broke into a sprint. He sprinted through the jungle as fast as he could, the branches whipping at his face and hands...

...free.

There was no Paris or Patyu out here, he thought as he ran. There is no Paris no Patyu no pain no failure no risk no loss all it is is jungle. the jungle does not care who enters it. it is solitude because there is nobody here for me and that means that nobody can hurt me and throw my heart to the ground and I am FREE!

He thought for a second that maybe the soldiers would be coming down in an aircraft and they'd see him running and they'd shoot him like an animal and he'd be dead but he'd be dying with dignity and peace and respect and he'd die an animal but he'd be a free animal and nobody would mourn him but if Patyu died she'd get many people to mourn her because people cared about her and they didn't care about Nate but Nate preferred that way because he'd been the more successful and he was free and dying free was a better death than his entire life and nobody would care that he was gunned down because he was alone but more importantly he could think his own thoughts and make his own decisions now because he had nobody else to stop him and if he wanted to die like a dog he'd die like a dog because he could because even dogs die free and he was like a dog because he was FREE!

He dodged a tree!

Free!

He jumped over a root!

Free!

The brush became thicker!

Free!

He hopped onto a rock!

Free!

He kept running, and dove from the rock!

Free!

He went around a stump!

Free!

The brush opened out and cleared in front of him and down fifty feet he saw the calmly swaying ocean and he knew what was coming next but he didn't care because he was free! Free! He dove from the cliff! Free!

Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!

There was a light in the distance. He began to swim.

by **Kiu Ghesik** » Tue Apr 13, 2021 5:49 pm

"Alright." Mingling. That... was not an entertaining prospect, Ari thought. She wanted to be doing something worthwhile with her time, not... talking. She'd been doing enough talking- talk, talk, talk. That, it felt like, was all she did, even if the more logical portions of her brain knew such an assertion to be a falsehood. For instance, Ross- she spent quite a lot of time around him. Did she mind? No, Ari didn't. She loved him. But she wanted to do something new. She wanted to be a part of whatever was going on. Not shut out, not locked up in a bloody cupboard to be brought out and hung at his side for the good times. She wanted to be there for the bad.

And she would be, logically. Unfortunately Ari was not renowned for comprehending such things as logic.

Before Ross could turn to go, she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling it up close to her with her own. It was... cold. Not warm, like he should have been, and not the cold of lifelessness. God, not that, never that. But it was the cold of fear.

What did Ross have to be afraid of, when he had Ari?

Only God knew. And Ross, of course, but he wasn't telling. Ari gently took his other hand and brought him next to her, the thin smile on her face doing its meager best to disguise the worry in her eyes. "Whatever it is... I could help. I want to help you fight your battles, John. You just have to let me." Just let me in.

But he didn't. He just gave her that warm, twinkling smile and stepped away. Towards that other... towards Nate. Clearly something had happened between the two of them. The mystery, though- what precisely- wasn't likely to be answered. And it should have been, shouldn't it? Ross loved her, that had to count for something. She was part of the inner circle, wasn't she?

How much else didn't she know?

Ari watched Ross disappear in the sea of faces- odd, she thought, that they'd managed to bring so many positively normal people to Socialist Macronesia, of all places- and groaned. Under her breath she muttered, "Never mind. I'll go... mingle, I guess," and turned to step into that same sea Ross had sunken into. But her own sails were not turned towards his. They were travelling into unknown waters.

Blegh, socializing. Why did it have to be socializing? A warrior did not socialize. A warrior led, a warrior was a figurehead, but a warrior did not mingle. And Ari was, despite her... time off, still a warrior. It was beneath her... or she just didn't want to do it. But whatever the reason, she found herself stepping out towards the back patio instead of some place where people were. She was missing something, Ari knew- not an object, most likely. Drama. Whatever was going on inside. And, in all honesty, she appreciated that, she thought as she stepped out into the cooling night air. The sea breeze caught her in the face and rustled through her short-cropped hair, and Ari smiled. The feeling felt... loving. Like the slightest hint of an embrace.

Ejadrir, it seemed, was still watching over her.

She stepped out onto the deck and slid down cross-legged. Heat not yet free from its surface soaked into her leggings, and once more a smile crept onto her face. She was a part of something now, the slightest gear in a massive cosmic machine- who she was didn't matter. None of whatever drama Ross was going through really mattered. They would get through it if they were meant to; God would see to that.

Ari sank onto her back, her eyes fixed on the sky. It was scudded by thin, wispy cloud, the bright tropical moon just cresting over the horizon, but nonetheless the stars were still there. Even in the sky, there was God. She had learned in the past two months that there were other things there- planets, other worlds around those stars, other places man had yet to trod- but they were still Godly to her.

Once, she remembered, she had wanted to be a bird. She had been a child then, barely six. And in all the infinite wisdom of that youth she had thought it a great injustice that the Khadusik were not a people blessed with the gift of flight. To grow closer to God through flight into Her domain had seemed then the greatest gift, but... things were bigger than that, it seemed. More complicated. And she had flown, had touched that sky, and the only godly thing she found there was... Ross.

God was apart from man. That was how it was meant to be. One was meant to find god in their lives, and Ari had. For that she was blessed. She sighed, the purest bliss of a soul at ease escaping her, and gently slid her eyes shut. The sounds of birds, of wind rustling through the treetops, of the crashing of waves just behind the treeline into the shore below the villa, of the gentle lapping of water against the sides of Ross' pool, of the tricking of water through streams and the din of the party behind her, they all soaked into her like the heat from the deck, and it was good. It was all good, all beautiful- the birds, the water, the people, the...

...crashing of a bush?

Like a dart Ari sat up, just in time to see the pale flesh of an arm and a neck disappearing into the jungle, the tallow streak of fur following it like an arrow. Well, that was interesting, she thought, her brow furrowing at the sight. It probably had something to do with whatever Ross had been dealing with.

A thought tickled at the edge of her mind- and it wasn't the perpetual "What did I leave in the villa?" that had been plaguing her for the past hour. She had said she wanted to help him. More than that, that she could help him- that she could fight his battles, if only he asked.

Maybe it would do her some good to be proactive on that front.

In a moment Ari was darting into the woods. She had never been the best runner, but God had seen fit to bless her with a long gait, and the past two months of proper nutrition had done nothing but good for her physique. She was still far behind whoever she was following, but in the moon's light the person's pale skin flashed like a searchlight in the darkening underbrush. They were... wearing a dress uniform. They were a she. And, Ari suspected, they had a tail.

There were only a few people on this island that she thought presently fit those first two descriptors, and precisely one that matched all three.

The girl who'd been covered in red.

But Ari didn't have any time to ponder that fact, as the ground underfoot seemed intent on trying to kill her at all times, especially given the loose slip-on shoes that she was wearing and their incredibly apparent inadequacy for the present terrain. Her breath was starting to come ragged now, the humid air choking her, and-

Just in time, Ari dodged a tree, kicking off it to land hard on one ankle. She stumbled back to her feet and threw herself forward.

Get him!

She nearly tripped over a root, the bottoms of her shoes scraping over its bark.

Get him!

The brush started to thicken around her, Ari holding up her palms to beat it back from her face. A branch dragged across her exposed stomach, tearing a bit of skin off with it.

Get him! Get him, get him, get-

And then a rock swelled out of the darkness and Ari's wobbly ankle caught it and she was falling to the ground and then she hit the ground, hard, the air bursting out of her lungs. There was a crashing up ahead, and then- silence. Just Ari, her own ragged breath, and the whining humming of a million insects in the dark. Shakily she pulled herself up by a convenient vine, stepped forward into a clearing overlooking the open expanse of the ocean, and limping to the edge looked down. There was something splashing around down there. Something human.

She'd failed.

Ari groaned, sank down against a stump that once hung a tree over the cliff, and put her hand to her midriff. She drew it back to see splotches of red. Could've been worse, she thought, but still, wish I could've gone one party without suffering bodily harm.

A twig snapped behind her, and like an owl she spun to look. Nothing.

Huh.

Ari's gaze turned back to her palm, and then to the cliff. The girl in the uniform- no, Nate, she'd seen him before- was down there, she knew. Maybe... maybe she could still get him. It would be easy enough to jump, probably a survivable fall, and there was a beach not a mile's swim from here if she remembered right. She could still succeed. She could still win Ross' battle. She could-

Another snap. Hands, clasped over her mouth. Panic, rising like the tide. Cloth being pressed into her nose. Cloth that smelled like gas. And just before the inevitable unconsciousness, a thought:

The photo, that's what I forgot. I forgot to hide it away. It's sitting in the dressing room, the one right next to the ballroom. Just... out where anyone could see it.

Then nothing.

by **Socialist Macronesia** » Thu Apr 15, 2021 9:56 pm

Ross wanted to say something. Anything. He wanted to say he was sorry (even if he wasn't) or that he would try to make things better (even if he wouldn't) or that everything would be swell in the end (even if it wasn't going to be). It was the emotional comfort that mattered, right? But it seemed Nate wasn't in the mood... to be comforted. But he'd been upset? Why didn't he want to be comforted? Ross was confused, but he had more pressing matters. He looked down at his suit. Everything I'm wearing is tinted slightly pink now. Lovely. A quick change into an almost identical set of clothes later and he opened the door and walked back out to the ballroom.

So... mingling. That was something he was decent at. Order of priorities: probably talk to Furia or something. Try to sell him some equipment or something. Then fix whatever the hell Paris and Patyu did to Nate. Then maybe Bixenta or the twins? Or those reporters? Whatever. He'd cross that bridge when he got there.

Walking across the ballroom, he mentally rehearsed what he knew about Nicolas. Nicolas Furia. Military dictator of Langenia. "Soldier." Catholic. Married. South American or something.

He strolled up to Furia and extended his hand. "Hi. I don't think we were properly introduced. I'm... well, I'm sure you already know me. Furia, right? President of Langenia?" And then to the woman next to him, "And you must be his wife. I don't think I know your name, actually. I'm John Ross--" John, you're engaged. Do not try to play this game again. Christophe may not have minded... well, he might have enj... focus, dumbass. "--so Furia, you like to fish?"

Where did that come from? I don't even fish... but it's a start.

Sarah had been trying to talk to Ari... but then Ross had swooped in and talked to her and then she'd ran outside and Ross had gone upstairs with Nate... and then Ross had left his room in a different suit but the same and without Nate but also without Ari... let's put this one by one. She grabbed her notepad and began to document the events that had occurred.

everyone arrives
nate drags paris and patyu off
nate kills guard
nate goes upstairs with ross
nate comes back downstairs covered in blood
nate sent back upstairs, ross's suit gets blood on it
ari runs off
ross comes back downstairs without nate, wearing new suit

question:
where nate
where ar-------------√

Sarah picked up her pen. She'd dragged it across the paper.

She walked over to the dressing room.

She shut the door.

I found Ari.

She examined the image further. This had to be some kind of surreal dream. But... it wasn't.

Well, damn... she's kind of hot.

Nate vaugely remembered pulling himself from the water onto dry land. He didn't know where he was. He certainly wasn't on the mainland. And judging by the absence of landmine signs, it probably was a relatively uninhabited island.

It's cold.

He hadn't really considered that. He was cold. It was cold outside, the water was cold, there was a breeze that made it colder, he was soaking wet and didn't have a jacket and it was cold and he didn't have a blanket and he was miserable... well, he would just have to deal with it. There wasn't anyone around to get him a blanket, now was there? Because... that was how it was. That was how it had always been. But this time... well, this time he didn't have anyone to say they would help him, to say they would do anything for him, and then never follow up. He was alone and he knew he was alone. That was oddly calming. No worries, no concerns, no help... he could do it all by himself.

Nate sat up and reached forward, placing his hands into the water, and grabbing a handful of sand. He let the waves lap each and every grain away.

"I'm alone," Nate said to absolutely nobody. "I am alone. I can say whatever I want. And nobody will hear me. Nobody will care if I say [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] Edwin Starr [REDACTED] [REDACTED] Patyu and Paris can [REDACTED] [REDACTED] all up [REDACTED] [REDACTED]! I'm being spontaneous!" He spun around in a little circle. "And I can be spontaneous! Because I don't care anymore! You can tell everyone I'm a damn disgrace! You can drag my name all over the place! Because I don't care anymore! You can tell everybody about the state I'm in! You won't catch me crying... 'cause I just can't win! I don't care anymore! I don't care anymore! I don't care what you say! I don't play the same games you play! I can sit here and bide my time! I got nothing to lose if I speak my mind! I don't care anymore! I don't care no more! I don't care what you say! We never played by the same rules anyway! I won't be there anymore! Get out of my way, let me by! I got better things to do with my time! And I really ain't bothered what you think of me! 'Cause all I want out of you is just a let me be! I don't care anymore! You hear? I don't care no more! I don't care what you say! I never did believe you much anyway! I won't be there no more! So get out of my way, let me by! I got better things to do with my time! I don't care anymore! You hear? I don't care anymore! I don't care no more! You listenin' Patyu? I don't care no more! No more!" Nate screamed at the top of his lungs. He screamed until his throat was hoarse and he kept screaming until his throat felt like it was burning and he was sobbing and he felt he could scream no longer and then he screamed until he physically couldn't.

"See, Patyu..." He coughed. "I... I'll be alright by myself. I don't need you. And... I never did. I could've just left you back in Sanghyeok. I never would've taught you English. I never would've taught you math. I never would've taught you how to break someone's neck. I never would've helped you after Ross. I never would've let you into my home. And then I'd never be here. I'd be at this party... just as miserable and alone, but at least my heart would be unbroken. But... you took it all... and... and gave me nothing." Did Nate care that Patyu was nowhere near him? No. Did Nate care that he'd just killed fifteen people? No. Did Nate care that likely a mile away Ari had just been abducted and been put in a soul box? Nope.

"They say you either die the hero or live to see yourself become the villain, you know. Maybe... maybe I should've just died the hero."

by **Langenia** » Fri Apr 16, 2021 9:48 am

Turning around to the direction of the voice behind him, Furia laid his eyes on a Caucasian man. He reminded him of a businessman, like one of those people that hustled between their homes and their jobs in tall buildings at New York City. His first instinct was to shake the hand and not be rude. Being a head of state does that to you. So he did so, listening to Ross's remarks while he did that. However, his response was every bit as awkward as Ross. "H-hello. Yep, I am Furia, President of Langenia, and uh, yeah, I believe I do remember you from some news headlines some years ago." Drat. Could he not be so...formal for a minute and be like he was before the presidency, the relaxed party man?!

Isabella, on the other hand, had composed herself and was ready. Mercifully, she did not know what was going on in Ross's head as he introduced himself. "Nice to meet you, Ross. I am Isabella, wife of this guy." She elbowed Nicolas. It was at this moment that Ross asked if Nicolas liked to fish. Also composing himself and recovering his usual demeanor, he responded "No, to be honest. What about you?" Though his words may have given a casual tone, his face indicated confusion at the subject. Fishing? Out of the all the subjects possible, fishing?! Huh. He wondered what was going on through Ross's head at that moment.

Meanwhile, Isabella had taken in her surroundings while her husband and Ross casually chatted. She was in a ballroom, kind of like the one back home in the Presidential Palace. Ah, memories. There wasn't really anyone she knew in her. That could only mean one thing. It was time to interact.

by **Free Ravensburg** » Sat Apr 17, 2021 3:24 pm

While the group members were partying with the others, Amadeus decided to talk to his nephew about what really happened during his comatose. Pulling him into a separate room for privacy, Amadeus began to ask Jakob about the battle.

Amadeus: “How did you win? Did you go for the head?”
Jakob: “No, she ate him.”
Amadeus: “Wait, your Stand is female? How do you know?”
Jakob: “Her voice.”
Amadeus: And your Stand can talk! Amazing! You must show me.”
Jakob: “She will not fit in here. We have to be outside.”
Amadeus: “Well let’s go.”
[The two walk outside and stand next to a lamppost.]
Amadeus: “Is this good enough?”
Jakob: “Yes.”
Amadeus: “I can’t wait to see my nephew’s Stand.”
[Aqua Wyvern manifests]
AW: “Yes Jakob? Do you need my help?”
Amadeus: [struck in awe]
Jakob: “My uncle wanted to see you.”

by **Imperial-Octavia** » Mon Apr 19, 2021 7:47 pm

Phase 5

More faces moved towards the Nate fiasco, while Jane sat back and watched. While interesting she had no time for the petty social brawls of organics of questionable mental stability; instead Jane would keep watching her targets and their inane conversations (though Nate's kill spree was a nice change of pace from the angst that everyone else of note seemed to be going through) until finally her opportunity arose. As that maniac Nate ran into the jungle behind their venue so did Ari and with that, Jane's window of opportunity had opened. Jane stood up from where she sat in the back of the party and snuck her way into the jungle where she would begin her hunt. "I really would've thought that a hunter from such a primitive era would've tried to hide her tracks better" thought Jane as she followed the footprints of the warlord prepared to spring on her, as she moved ever closer to her target. Jane was always following Ari on her little run, hiding amongst the trees and foliage and making bounds towards her silently until finally, near a cliff which Jane had guessed Nate had just leapt off Ari had fallen. Within a moment Jane had pulled out the chloroform from the built in storage in her skin suit and poured it over a tissue before running towards Ari's exposed body at an inhuman speed. Finally after spending three days as that annoying organic Jane, Ou'Kanu could finally finish her mission with this final-!

snap

Snapping back into the bushes before Ari could look back Jane had realized that she hadn't accounted for sticks in her mad dash towards the nomad. Luckily this rare mistake hadn't drawn the attention of Ari for very long as she went back to looking over the cliff on the ground, Jane peaked back out and leapt towards Ari with a burst of speed before taking her chloroform covered rag and covering Ari's face in it, letting the chemical work it's magic as it moved it's way through her nerves and knocking her out. Finally she had come into the final parts of the plan and the Delta Protocol would soon be hers. Unfortunately she wouldn't be able to call her ship here because of all the trees and it would be far too loud to have it knock all those pesky trees out of the way. Jane picked Ari up and began sprinting towards the location of her stealth corvette so the most important work could be done. Of course it would've been nice to use her car, but of course dragging Ari's unconscious body to her car would be highly suspicious and would probably lead to some confrontations that Jane wasn't quite ready to deal with quite yet. So went Jane in a full sprint, moving far faster than would've been expected for anyone who wasn't an Olympic sprinter, with a nomad slung over her shoulder. It would definitely have been quite the odd sight had anyone had seen it.

Jane's ship

The run hadn't taken all that long as expected and it was quite clear that the next time she went to a jungle that she should ask for a ladder to be added on her ship. Jane walked into the invisible ship and threw Ari down on the jet black floor. As soon as Jane entered small red lights on the roof and floor dimly lighting the craft in such a way that the entire inside had a slightly red tint. Also following her entrance came a a quite elegant song that played for a few seconds before fading into the background becoming an ambience for the vessel. Jane would turn to a console located in the front of the ship and would turn it on without touching it before moving through various icons with her mind and landing on one that appeared as a bed. It blinked for a moment before a surgical bed rose from the ground right next to Ari. Jane picked Ari up and placed her on it as the restraints automatically stretched themselves around Ari's body securing her to the bed. Another few mental command and a long tube like device would prop itself right next to Ari's ear moments and a scanner would begin moving over her body before the nomad would begin slowly opening her eyes.

Jane was honestly surprised that Ari was over the chloroform already, but it didn't much matter at this point since she was already in the bed. Leaning over it, Jane would stare directly into Ari's eyes without blinking...or breathing for that matter. As Ari would regain consciousness, Jane would speak to her in a completely different voice than Ari would remember from Jane. Instead of the soft, light voice she was accustomed to she would hear a voice that was much colder, confident, and synthesized?

"Hello Ari. Tell me, is the bed comfortable? I don't really feel the same as the people I bring here and I've always wondered how that bed felt from the detainee end."

SoMac Christmas Fête [IC, Closed]

SoMac Christmas Fête [IC, Closed]

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