MNM's Solstice Dystopian Happy Horror Show / IC / Closed

[Kiu Ghesik]

As the two were turning to walk from the booths and towards the waiting shuttlebus, a thought crossed Patyu's mind, and she turned to the woman next to her with a slight frown. "Uh, Raya? Would you mind if I took the snowglobe?"

"Oh, sure, uh... here." A moment's fumbling produced a small glass orb attached to a kitschy molded base, a submerged bucolic pasture frozen within. "If you want it."

"Thanks. Sorry, I just... I just think it'd be safer in the padded pouch than your bag." Gingerly, Patyu took the snowglobe the two had purchased from Raya and slipped it into her backpack, making sure to nestle it snugly between her camera and a travel pillow. It'd make a good knickknack for her bedside, she thought, at least if Raya didn't want it, and more importantly it'd be a nice reminder of this moment. That most of all was what she wanted. The past seven months had been odd and stressful and chaotic and rootless and above all else sheer beauty, and every moment, every flavor, every sight and sound and smell was precious to Patyu. Especially those involving Raya.

Patyu was completely unconscious of how long she'd spent in that moment, but when it finally ended, she was bluntly aware of how profound its loss was. Especially considering that it was ended in a rather blunt and noisy manner by a veritable herd of security personnel drowning in heavy weaponry blustering past the small crowd they'd found themselves in. The noise alone would've unsettled Patyu, but when compounded with the fact that so many instruments of death were in such close proximity to her and more importantly to Raya she found herself utterly terrified. In the brief moment the soldiers were passing by them, she'd managed to both interpose herself between her girlfriend and the source of all the loud sounds and to inflict on herself the early stages of a panic attack.

Those were always so annoying.

As the noise and the men dressed in black began to recede she felt a familiar hand running its way through her hair and rubbing the base of her ears. That gesture too was familiar. Ever since Raya had noticed it stilled Patyu's nerves she'd taken it up as a comforter, something Patyu was incredibly grateful for. Her already racing heart was finally beginning to still once more, and closing her eyes she pressed herself against Raya and wrapped her in a hug. "Thanks," she muttered, voice quivering. "Are, uh... y-you alright?"

"Yeah," Raya replied, though her eyes remained fixed on the far exit of the terminal. "I'm fine, just a bit worried."

Gulping, Patyu nodded. "S-so am I..."

"Well, then we should probably get to the bus before anything else happens. Besides, maybe we'll see someone you know there? You know, apart from... them." They, in this case the royal children, had already left. The mix of deference, fear, and awe Raya showed them had always confused Patyu. They just seemed like... people doing a job. But it didn't really matter. She was right- there was a good chance that Ari was hear, and meeting Ari was the vastest portion of why Patyu had come, after all.

Unfortunately, as Patyu made her way onto the bus hand in hand with Raya, clambering step over steep step into its interior, she saw no face she recognized. A pair of dark-haired, amber-skinned women sitting together stood out, but before she could get a better look at their faces she'd already been ushered past them, and in no time she was facing a seat- and a dilemma.

"Ah, uh..." Tapping Raya on the shoulder, Patyu cleared her throat. The former, who'd been about to get into the proffered luxuriant seat, turned to look at the latter with a quizzical furrow in her brow. "C-..."

"Yeah?" The questioning look became one of the mildest concern, and her hand drifted to Patyu's shoulder.

"Ah, sorry, I'm fine. I just- could I sit on the, uh, inside?" Patyu felt her face flooding with heat. "S-sorry, I don't know why this is a big deal all of a sudden..."

Now for the second time in just a few moments the emotion framed in Raya's face changed, concern passing into affection just as swiftly as it had overtaken curiosity. She stepped back and gestured for Patyu to slip into the seats, then followed her companion in, taking a place in the aisle seat. Then, of course, she wrapped her arm around Patyu's shoulder, a sigh slipping from her lips as she pulled the smaller woman close. It took Patyu no time at all to nestle herself comfortably into the crook of Raya's arm.

From her post Patyu was offered an excellent view of the surrounding landscape: the cushy seats of the bus, the wall and window beside her, the, uh... on second thought, she could really only see Raya. Not that that was a problem, of course, but Patyu had thought she'd maybe seen one or two people she'd recognized earlier, and it would've been nice to see if just possibly Vhi and Aphi and perhaps even Ari were here as well- seemed a sure deal, Ross was- but instead all she could see was Raya.

A moment's consideration brought to her mind the realization that there was precisely nothing she found wrong with that.

Looking around the bus, with a view much inferior to Patyu's own, Raya's eyes grew just a tad wider. "Impressive," she whistled. At that Patyu had to nod- the two's flat wasn't the largest even before it became an impromptu residence for an extra mouth, after all, and this bus's furnishings alone probably cost more than that room did. Then again a dictator could afford that sort of expense. That particular thought summoned an involuntary shiver from Patyu and a sweet murmur from Raya. The soldiers still fresh on her mind, this bus, the strict security at the terminal, all served to further unsettle Patyu and shake her nerves. If it weren't for the prospect of meeting Ari she would've never have come.

But, she thought, as long as she was with Raya things would turn out fine. As the blonde began to make small talk with the bus's other occupants- Ross, ugh- the short brunette felt her worrying slip away. Her mind wrapped around the lilting, confident tones of Raya's voice, took hold of the heat in her side and stowed it deep within, and she felt peace. Her grip on Raya's hand relaxed. And Patyu smiled.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Somewhere in a Forest Sector..

Yathmir's HALO jump could have gone better, though it wasn't his fault, when the winds picked up that caused his parachute to send him away from where he wanted to be. He was still lucky, as the winds blew him to a forest sector next to the city, where his parachute got tangled up within some tree branches, as he hovered a foot off the ground. As Yathmir was trying to get free, he saw several soldiers approaching him in the night, as he believed that they would aid in his situation. He might have been a little nervous when they got their guns out, which they started pointing their weapons at him...

The next thing Yathmir knew, after explaining his intentions on being here for Solstice, was that he was forced in the back of a military jeep as some soldiers were pointing their rifles at him, while another checked his passport and other identification. "There was an airport right there! An airport! I...Ugh.." the soldier checking his passport was frustrated, since him and the other soldiers were being forced to not lash out against the Solstice guests. They were unpredictable, but they were trying to make sure they weren't getting killed and were not killing someone. Because of Yathmir's little trip to the nation, he was being a "VIP exclusive" ride to the hotel. The moment they got to the On-And-Off Hotel, Yathmir was roughhoused a little, as he was forced off the jeep, along with his satchel.

"We will be keeping an eye on you..." the soldier said, which was threatening in a menacing sense. The good news was that Yathmir was the second person to check in at the hotel.

Somewhere in another Forest Sector..

Nate's plan on going incognito as a soldier did create some attention. The fire caused by the incendiary grenade to burn the body had spread, causing flames to spread to some of the grass around the body and near some shrubbery. Some soldiers who noticed the smoke rising in the distance, while patrolling the forests, immediately radioed in for the Fire Patrol. Several soldiers and members of the Fire Patrol helped put up the fire, but they were dumbfounded at the appearance of the body. The body had became skeletal, but it would take until morning to get a positive identification on the John Doe. Some of the gear that the body had on them was melted and burned by the flames, making it hard to know what they were doing.

"What happened here?" a lead soldier said, as a member of the secret police and security detail was checking the body. "Was it spontaneous combustion? Maybe they were a demon?" they recommended as a theory, though it was hard to determine an accurate cause of death. "Damn it! Get more soldiers here in the woods! We already have to deal with enough out here."
"Sir, I got word from another Forest Sector. They say that a tourist had HALO jumped and landed nearby."

"Are you fucking kidding me? There is an airport over there!" the soldier vented, while some other soldiers were trying to look to see if there was other evidence nearby. They did note some possible accelerants, but no real progress would be made until the morning. No security drones were nearby as well, which would have made things more easier, since they had thermal imagery for recordings that can be played back. Nate ended up being lucky as a result.

On Route

Most of the guests were already in the bus that was traveling through the sectors to get to the On-And-Off Hotel. Valeria thought the soldiers were afraid of her, until their attention was actually drawn to Lady Aurelia who was near her. The latter was in a separate bus away from the others. The actual drive to the route was shorter than some expected. There was still a good look at the cityscape nearby. There were buildings in neon colors in the distances, though some were gray and dull. Either government buildings or perhaps public housing.

The buses would end up at the On-And-Off Hotel, which was a moderate-sized building near the edge of the city. There was some neon lighting, as the passengers were allowed to step out, as the soldiers were getting their stuff out from the luggage compartment. Some of the soldiers were lingering either outside or inside of the hotel, most likely to protect or keep an eye on the guests. Another breeze kicked in, as the guests were entering the hotel.

The lobby looked more rustic, even though it was near urban civilization. The color palette was in pastels, where there was some generic art on the walls, though it gave no artistic appreciation to most likely not induce ideas. The lobby had a large mural on one of the walls that showed what appeared to be a piece of propaganda colored in red and black. The propaganda contained several soldiers helping disheveled and disorganized looking citizens, as a motto can be seen on the bottom "Bliss of Our Power". There was a lady at the front desk, who helped give everyone their room numbers and keycards.

There was still something comforting about the hotel, even though a soldier would end up walking down a hallway. Maybe because it was late and everyone wanted to rest, but the rooms looked cozy enough. Each room came with it's own kitchen and bathroom with a bathtub and shower. The floors were still wooden, but it made up the rustic feel of the hotel. There was a large king-size bed with white bedsheets, though there was another bed that can be folded up from the couch, if no one wanted to share. The flat-screen TVs (or were they telescreens?) showed some channels, but they were all within the nation. They were either vaguely-lined propaganda, random rip-offs of other shows, inner-nation sports, there was even a cooking show with some soldier cooking, along with some cartoons that may remind some people of a certain show in another nation.

In Wilhelm's room, someone left a WiFi password on his bed, as part of his request. Though, it would lead to a WiFi network that was similar to the WiFi that many people in Main Nation Ministry would use, which in turn was monitored heavily by the Ministry. Sarah and Sean's room had a hot tub in their bathroom, though Sarah seemed more inclined to enjoy it than Sean. Helena would see a voucher for a hot spring experience on the bed, which she could enjoy. In Raya and Patyu's room, someone appeared to have left a cookie and a small stuffed snakefish plushie. It wasn't a request from both women, but a kind soldier had noticed Patyu's nervous behavior back at the airport, so they decided to cheer her up a bit.

Some room service as part of requests would come to some of the rooms to give some guests what they needed. In Alexander and Jacob's room, a staff member came with a hotel trolley that had a coffee machine for Jacob to enjoy. Another staff member came by with a pina colada served in a coconut that would made for Kotera.

The guests were enjoying getting comfy in their hotel rooms, while some more guests were in the process of arriving to the nation, where another shuttle bus was stationed to take them to the hotel.

[Wuchu]

"Try it again!" I yelled at him.

"I'm trying it!" Kotera yelled back, struggling to open the doors of the hotel room. "I'm telling you, this card isn't working!"

The security officer escorting us cleared his throat and proceeded to take the keycard from Kotera's hands. He didn't struggle, merely letting the heavily armed man slide it out of his grasp. The officer stood in front of the door, and with one, swift motion slid the card through the door's lock pad. The door beeped, and the distinct sound of a lock clicking open echoed through the corridor.

I gave Kotera a deadpan stare. He looked back at me.

"Well?" I said, raising my brows, motioning towards the door.

"Whatever," he said, grabbing his bags.

We thanked the officer and entered room 501.

Inside, the atmosphere felt physically different. You could tell that, although cold, the State here wanted her guests to enjoy their stay. Privileges of being diplomatic envoys, I suppose.

On one half of the room, there were two queen-sized beds. There was a large screen with an eye emblem lit upon it on the other half, covered by a menu showing different channels. There weren't that many to choose from. On the bedside table closest to the entrance was a tall coconut of pina colada, with a note attached saying, "Enjoy your stay", and the State's coat of arms printed underneath the words.

Kotera sighed, looking over the two beds.

"Are you thinking of what I'm thinking?" he asked, his gaze not leaving the room's interior.

"Mega Bed?"

"Mega Bed."

---

Stecker was telling me about their opinions on some anime I never heard of.

Well, perhaps it'd be more accurate to say that they were talking at me rather than telling me. My mind was far away from the giant double-queen bed we were lying on, as a bizarre cartoon was playing on the telescreen. I had already finished the pina colada I was given as a welcome gift by the hotel's kind staff. It was okay. I've definitely had better, and the taste of alcohol was unpleasant, but I guess I can't be too hard on a nation whose agriculture is run like a slave plantation.

"Have you ever seen a Screamer?" I said, interrupting Stecker's rant about the failure of some big business to live up to their supposed love of a character.

They looked at me, taken aback a little, raising both eyebrows. "Were you even listening to what I said?"

"Have you?" I repeated.

They adjusted their position, crossing their legs like a Turk and placing a pillow between their legs. There were a few moments of silence before they spoke again.

"Yeah. Yeah, I have."

I nodded.

"One was in my dream," I said. "On our way here."

"Oh?" Stecker said.

The room fell into silence.

"Do you... wanna talk about it?" they asked, leaning towards me a little, hugging the pillow.

"No," I shook my head. "I don't want the Bull to know the details." I let go of the bedsheets I didn't realise I was fiddling with, and looked up at Stecker. "I just thought I'd let you know, just in case."

"Alright," they said. "Well, so, the director of Balka Must Die, right? He didn't even read the first series of the manga!"

[Socialist Macronesia]

Nate had made very little progress on his "plan". There wasn't much he could do here, exactly, and while he did have ideas of things he wanted to do, he was unsure of exactly what he could pull off feasibly here. While there were plenty of things to do, most of those were useless to his cause. Nevertheless, he was making significant progress on one thing: his bottle of champagne. Well, he'd actually finished it a long time ago. After all, he hadn't touched alcohol for seven months, but liver failure, he thought, was at the bottom of his list of immediate concerns. Presently, that list was headed and co-headed by the fact that he heard footsteps coming down the hall. As the occupant of the room closest to the elevator, everyone on the floor would have to walk past his room in order to get from their room to the rest of the hotel, and vice-versa. It also meant that housekeeping would be in his room first the next morning. While seemingly insignificant, oftentimes these small details can be quite important.

Nate quietly crept to his door and looked through the peephole. There were a lot of people he didn't know--

"...this is the correct floor, right?"

Sean. Operative SIERRA 8. Fucking hell, it's been, what, two years? He shook off his emotions for a second. Now was not the time for sentimental recollections. Nate opened the door, grabbed Sean by the arm, and yanked him inside. Sean was about to punch Nate in the face, but upon seeing his former commander, he lowered his fist.

"Nate? The hell are you doing here?"

"Not important." Nate slammed the door and bolted it, then turned back to face the man still sprawled across the floor. "I need your help."

---

Ross had just arrived at his suite with Ari, and was about to sit down, kick his feet up, talk to Ari, maybe order some drinks, when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Excuse me, honey. It's probably the military. They must be after you. Probably for tax evasion." He looked through the peephole. "Oh, it's just Sean." He unlocked the door and opened it. "What is it?"

"Come with me. Right now." Sean started to pull Ross out of the room, but Ross stopped him.

"What's this about?"

"Just... come with me, okay? I'm sorry if I'm disturbing your alone time with Ari, but you really, really need to come with me right now." Ross thought he looked nervous, and for the most part, he was right. Ross turned back to Ari.

"I'm sure I'll be back soon." He stepped out of the room. Sean had quite a large duffle bag over his shoulder. Ross wanted to ask what he was carrying, but frankly, knowing Sean, it was probably everything he had ever owned in his entire life. Sean took him in the elevator down to the ground floor without a word. That was when Ross knew something was really going down.

Outside, Sean led him to what Ross believed was a rental car. "Drive." Ross got in the driver's seat, Sean tossed the bag in the back, and then got in the passenger's seat. "I'm going to tell you where to drive, you just need to listen and do exactly what I say, okay? There's no bugs in this car, at least any more, so they shouldn't be able to hear us."

"Who the fuck is they?"

"The government here. This place is like the Soviet Union but somehow more paranoid."

"And what exactly is the purpose of this... leisurely drive?" He pulled out of the hotel's parking lot and got onto a remarkably empty open road.

"You'll find out soon. Now look in your mirror. See that? They're trailing us. Black car, a couple hundred meters back. Don't do anything erratic. Now, up here, this building is probably tall enough. Sean reached across Ross's lap, under the dashboard, and yanked something. "Brake lights are out. Take a right, floor it, take another right, then stop. Nate, come on!"

Nate emerged from the duffle bag. Well, Nate in the uniform of a soldier from Main Nation Ministry, complete with M16 and M203 underbarrel grenade launcher. Nate stayed low in the back so as to avoid the eyes of any passerbys; while the windows in the car were tinted, he wasn't about to run the risk of being spotted. The car swerved hard right, just about drifting around the corner. The car behind them sped up, but so did they, flying around the second turn at a very unsafe speed into a deserted side street, then slammed to a stop. Nate opened the door, jumped out onto the sidewalk, and threw the door closed. The building they had turned around was just tall enough to obscure the view from the air, and the two right turns temporarily put them out of view of any ground surveillance. Nate, from what the surveillance team in charge of his floor knew, was asleep in his room. In reality, he was standing in the sidewalk of a deserted street watching a car squeal to life and roar down the street away from him, its lights now reconnected.

A black car made the turn around the corner a few seconds later, its windows black and opaque, its engine practically silent. It seemed to loiter next to him for a little bit longer than he would've liked, but a few confused glances at his friends' departing car and a brief fake radio call made them speed up. Nate was sure, thought, that he was out of surveillance. And then he laughed. No, he wasn't just out of surveillance, they must've thought he was part of the surveillance team!

But now was not the time to gloat over a temporary victory. Now was the time to get working. In Nate's experiences with espionage, it never seemed to matter what security measures people put into place, they could always be fooled by a man with a uniform who acts like he's supposed to be there. No matter what this place thought it was, it couldn't and wouldn't be any different. Nate reslung his rifle over his shoulder.

"Let's have some fun."

[Brettenwald]

The Gardae were one thing but these guys were something else entirely, a strangely detached part of Raya's brain casually thought to itself as the herd of soldiers rushed past. The rest of her was trying not to freak out and, for a change, clung on to Patya instead of the other way round. Patya did feel nice to cling on to, though. Warm. Soft. She smelled like flowery shampoo and baking spices. Ahem. Where were we? Right, the Gardae. Krona Regietslandsgarda, the Crown Guard of the Empire. Something like the result of a sweaty three-way between the FBI, Mossad and the Praetorian Guard, the Gardae were the best's best's best. Raya had only dealt with them personally once during door-to-door searches when somebody called in a bomb threat near Temku University at a time when Helena and three of her cousins were on campus, and found them both politely efficient and terrifyingly cold-blooded. The immediately obvious differences between them and these guys were that the Gardae one: hired women and two: would probably have thought twice before blowing you away. Probably.

The clinger became the clingee as Patya put her arms around her, and her breathing slowed though she kept her eye on the disappearing tide of men and weaponry and continued kneading the nape of Patya's neck. Her additional stress on the word "them" in her response to Patya wasn't something she could easily explain, or that anyone could easily explain to outsiders. Power, privilege, rank and wealth meeting with centuries of tradition, leadership and respect weren't the kind of easily defined tangible concepts you could condense into a PowerPoint presentation. It was always culturally ingrained if not codified in law. People in the past had referred to it as having a place for everyone and everyone staying in their place, but such discussions usually veered into eugenics and other distasteful matters. The feudal system had been abolished centuries beyond centuries ago and old habits died hard, if it had to be oversimplified.

"I suppose it's just like any other Pacific island, except with a lot more white people and extrajudicial ki--" Ari kicked him in the leg. "Er... it's pretty warm and sunny, I mean. It does take a little getting used to if you come from a place in the Northern Hemisphere since the seasons are flipped. That always got me for the first few years I was there because, you know, we would all be freezing our asses off in the middle of July and sweltering in December. Definitely gets better over time and once you get accustomed to the stranger aspects of living there, like the interesting flora and fauna you can see. As it turns out, leaving an mostly uninhabited island to its own devices for thousands of years can cause some interesting adaptations in the things that do live there. There's been a lot of research done to try and use some of the plants and animals to make new medicines and medical treatments, but that's out of my league of expertise. I'll save that for all the science-tists, if you know what I mean."

Jacob spoke up. "Ooh! Ooh! I'm a sciencetist!"

Sarah turned to look at him. "In what way?"

"I helped test the VALV when it came out. That's gotta give me at least like an associates degree in mechanical engineering. They were using so many big words, man, it was all like 'the payload system in clean configuration causes too much axial stress' and all this stuff about 'causing too much lateral shearing in the biauxiliary tertiary fuel pump' and then they did all these weird math equations and they'd be like 'ah yes, the viscosity of the hydraxis of the velocity of the aircraft means that we cannot put any more than twenty-nine missiles on the aircraft.' I didn't understand a word they said, I just nodded my head and went along with it."

"I have no idea what you just said."

Jacob bowed. "And that is why I am a sciencetist. Feel free to consult me if you need any engineering help when you're a doctor."

Raya blinked. "Fascinating. I have absolutely no idea what the technobabble means, Jacob, but I guess that makes two of us," she said with a wry grin. "I'm just a photographer myself, I know how to use Photoshop and set up an external hard drive but that's it for me and computers." Patya was still snuggled into the crook of her arm, she noticed, smiling gently and murmuring a word of love as the small woman shuddered involuntarily. Patya was always tightly wound emotionally, seemingly always close to tears or a panic attack. She worried about her a fair amount normally, but this trip had only gone on for an hour or two if you didn't count the flight and already her songbird's nerves seemed to be fraying. Poor scared nervous little Patya. Raya wasn't happy either, but the fact that her companion would have crumpled into a singularity of tearful unhappiness and fear before she'd made it through customs if she weren't here was more than reason enough to put on a brave face and keep going.

Sarah rolled her eyes, then turned to the woman next to her. "So... Helena, wasn't it? You're Marco and Paris' sister, right? What brings you all here? Just chillin'?"

Helena gave Sarah a slightly flirtatious smile. "Yes, that's me. Unfortunately," she added, earning a snort from Marco, who turned around in his seat and grinned. "Ignore her, she's an annoying little twerp." She sighed. "Ignore the gorilla, his roars are meaningless," she shot back to a bark of laughter from him and an exasperated sigh from Paris.
"It would have been rude to miss the wedding after Marco told Ross we'd be there, and these two-" she nodded towards her brothers' heads a row of seats up "-had already been to one of these events each so I thought I'd tag along and make it three for three. As you said, just chillin'. Jacob said something about you becoming a doctor-?"

---

The hotel rooms turned out to be pleasant and, to Marco's delight after an exhaustive hour of lifting up, poking around, and peeking behind things, un-bugged. The decor was hardly exotic, but it was comfortable if not outright luxurious. "Oh, that's nice of them," Helena commented, examining the hot spring voucher the staff had left on the bed. Marco had predictably called dibs on the suite's bedroom, so she and Paris were going to have to share the rest of the room. Oh, well. One had to make allowances.

"You're an ugly little fellow, aren't you?" Raya studied the snakefish plushie intently before trying and failing to juggle it on both knees like a soccer ball as Patya giggled. "What?"
The catgirl blushed. "Aww, Patyaaaaa... C'mere, I'll help you unpack." Patya insisted on undoing her backpack herself, though, and so Raya had little to do beyond figure out who got which drawer as the catgirl happily nom'd the free cookie, eventually flopping herself down on the bed after changing into sweats & a tank top for maximum comfi and turning toward Patya with a tired smile. "What a day. How's Ari been? It's been a while since you talked to her and I was just wondering, especially given that she's, y'know... Ross, goddess love her. Oh, and you've got your anxiety pills, right?"

[Azur Deutschland]

502. Sylvia took the room key and slipped it into the lock. Once unlocked, she threw open the door for Julienne and Phym. Phym ran into the room at full speed and immediately jumped onto the bed. She turned around onto her back and slowly sat up once Julienne sat down beside her. Sylvia delicately placed their little bits of luggage away before likewise sitting on the bed. There, the three girls all kinda slumped together and sighed before laying down onto the bed, deciding to investigate the room later tomorrow morning or so. Their faces were all rather tired and sleepy. Not that they had done a lot since getting here or that the ride to the hotel was excruciatingly long. Rather, it was quite late and they were all feeling it. After all, the three girls barely got any sleep last night before they stepped into this world.

This place was definitely very different from the entirety of Azur Deutschland. Hopefully there's something worthwhile to do while we're here, the Twins thought, looking at each other before looking down at their daughter. Phym was already fast asleep, surprisingly. Julienne giggled softly, before gently getting up, remembering something. She went over to the trashcan in the room and swiftly threw away a dozen or so empty candy wrappers, all of which were from Phym. She laid back down in bed.

The king-size bed was surprisingly quite comfortable. Soon, both Sylvia and Julienne found themselves drifting into a slumber as well. Phym sleeping peacefully between the Twins.

---

Aurelia had obtained her key from the front desk and had withdrawn to her room. 504. Stepping inside the room, the Endless Witch smirked, seemingly at herself. She snapped her fingers and called out to someone. "Gaap!"

A flash of purple and blue light as a round symbol appeared on the floor. The flash subsided to reveal a woman in a red dress. The woman tilted her head before smiling at Aurelia. "Ah, Lia~ It's been a while."

Aurelia's face continued to smile at the demon she had summoned. "It has indeed been quite some time since we've gotten to talk, Gaap."

"Oh, did you summon me only want to talk?" Gaap asked in a fake surprised voice.

Aurelia laughed and shook her head slightly. "Well... I wanted to ask for your talents. Just for a simple, trivial matter. Though, I wouldn't mind talking afterwards."

"Of course, Lia. Even being your best friend, I am still your furniture." The demon said with a smile before listening to Aurelia's simple request.

---

A pitch black hole opened up in room 502. A tall woman crept out of it and looked to the bed. Three girls all sleeping together wonderfully.

Aurelia smiled and walked up to the bed. Sylvia, Julienne, and Phym had gone right to bed. Being a good ancestor, Aurelia moved carefully around, gently tucking the three girls into bed. "Have a wonderful night, future Endless Witches. My sweet grandchildren~"

With that said, the tall woman stepped back into the pure black portal before it closed, leaving nothing behind of its existence.

[Socialist Macronesia]

Sarah winked at Helena. "You're an observant one. Yes, I'm in my second year of med school. I would be further along, but... you know, conscription and stuff. And then I got a bit sidetracked with... other stuff." She smirked. "Stuff I'm not exactly at liberty to disclose in public." The shuttles began to slow. "Oh, looks like we're almost there. Well, it was nice to meet you, Helena. I hope we'll be seeing each other around soon." The shuttles all pulled up outside the hotel. Sarah and the rest of the Macronesian delegation got their bags and room keys and went up to their rooms. As she was opening her door, Sarah realized two things. One, Sean was nowhere to be found, and two, there were a lot of the same propaganda posters on this hall. It seemed like there were only about two or three unique posters around the hallway, at least as far as she could see. "Weird," she told herself, "Hopefully they didn't spare that much expense on the rooms." Luckily, at least compared to her Macronesian standards, the room was excellent... mostly because it had a king-size bed just for her. Oh, and a hot tub. And champagne. Truly everything she really wanted.

---

"This bed is huge!" Jacob, age 24, said as he bounced on top of the bed like a small child. "This place is great!"

Alex flipped a page on a nationalist propaganda magazine. "Jacob, you've had too much coffee. How many--"

"Seven. I can actually feel my blood vessels constricting themselves from the caffeine." He did a mid-air flip, nearly bashing a hole in the ceiling. "Let me make that eight." He began to slow down his jumping in preparation for getting off the bed. "Come on, try it, Alex. We're here to have fun, not read about all the traitors set to be executed this week."

"Kid, someday you'll learn," Alex said, "that sometimes you have to slow down and look at things harder. You'll have to think for yourself in a world that wants to--" Jacob was already pouring himself another cup of coffee.

"Alex, you're a wise man, you know that? You're like an old sage. But come on, live a little. You're gonna die someday, so why live life in the slow lane?"

Alex turned a page. "We're all going to die someday, but living life in the fast lane expedites that process," he said.

Jacob took a sip of his coffee and hopped back atop the bed. "Suit yourself." He began to jump again. "Watch me do this sick backflip!"

---

Ross and Sean picked up Nate in the same spot several hours after they left and using the same method; two right turns, fling open the rear door, and watch as Nate sprinted out from an alleyway and into the car. Ross pushed on the gas, and Nate planted himself as far into the floor of the car as he could, clutching a metallic briefcase in his arms. Sean wasn't going to ask the questions, but Ross was more than happy to oblige.

"Uh... Nate... what do you have there? And... why exactly are you... here? And uh... I'm sorry for..." He scratched his neck. "I..."

Nate began to zip himself back into the duffle bag. "You don't have to apologize. Just shut up and drive. As for the briefcase... I think I'll just let you find out. You will, soon enough." The cabin went silent. "I'm not going to kill you, you know." Ross sighed.

"I'm not going to lie, I was concerned th--"

"You're not off the hook, yet, Ross. Or maybe you are. It's not exactly like we get what we deserve in this world. You of all people should know that." He paused. "In due time we'll all receive our share of the blame."

No more words were exchanged during the ride back to the hotel. Sean carried the duffle bag back into Nate's room. After making sure that no cameras or bugs had been installed while they were gone, he tapped the bag a few times, then walked out the door. Sean didn't even look back once.

---

Ross trudged back to the elevator and up to his room. He unlocked the door with his keycard and stepped inside. Ari was already laying on the bed lazily. "Where..." She yawned. "Where have you been?"

He took off his coat and hung it up. "Not anywhere in particular. Just looked around town with Sean." The room went quite. Ross slid next to Ari in bed.

"Is something wrong, Ross?" Ari rested her hand on his. "I know when you've got something troubling on your mind. You know you can tell me anything, Ross." She smiled at him. "It's not healthy to keep your problems bottled up."

He lowered his head and slid further under the covers. "You... you ever know what it's like when someone counts on you to help them, and you just... can't? Or you just don't? I'm just... a little bit conflicted about some things that happened... a few months ago. Oh, Goddamn it, I need a hug." And before she had a chance to react he was wrapped around her figure tightly. "G... goodnight, Ari. I... love you." He was asleep before he heard the response. "I love you too, John."

---

Sean walked back to his room, unlocked and opened the door. The room feeling like a sauna led him to the conclusion that someone was currently in the hot tub, and the missing champagne on the kitchen counter led Sean to make a few conclusions about who that someone might have been. Sean walked across the room (he wondered why this room needed to be so big) and opened a door. "Sarah, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Sean. You want one of these chocolates? And where the hell have you been?"

"Went for a bit of a drive with Ross. Dropped off and picked up some stuff, the usual." Sarah knew exactly what this meant, but none of the specifics. Fortunately, Inquisitive Sarah had gone on vacation a few drinks ago, so she didn't press the matter.

"You want some champagne? I'll call downstairs for you if you want..."

He shook his head. "No, no thank you. It's getting late."

"Alright, Sean. Take care. See you tomorrow morning."

"I'll be up bright and early." He closed the door and went to his room. He changed and fell asleep quickly. Unlike Ross, Sean had no moral qualms about Nate's return. He was loyal to his country first and his friends second; his country was now thousands of miles away.

---

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

Room 505 had, much to Wilhelm's relief, WiFi as he'd requested. He knew it was heavily tracked, of course, hence why he'd purchased a used iPhone a few months prior. He'd installed some apps on it, practical things and other additions he figured a typical 40-year-old male would have. On and off, he'd been using it, racking up search history and screen time, communicating with random numbers via an alias, even creating a profile on WF's only available online dating service. He'd taken care to pick a username that hid his name as well as an image that shadowed his face, and he'd made his profile overly pedantic to detract any potential suitors. Once the MNM government became aware of his grating personality, they'd understand why he was single.

He was tempted to call Greta to check in on Sophia, but he knew doing so could compromise their privacy, so he refrained. The only real contact he had was with Marie, but hers was a cheap burner, as well. She'd left the burner with Allie so he could call Wilhelm, which was the entire point of Wilhelm's bringing a phone in the first place.

He inhaled, opened the phone, and went into recents so he could FaceTime Allie. One simple tap, and he was calling his brother, holding his breath and praying he would answer.

Allie's grinning face filled his screen, still washed-out and splotched with broken blood vessels. His tired eyes sparkle with joy and enthusiasm at the sight of Wil, the shadow of his old self poking through the worn countenance. "Hi, Wil!" he exclaims, somehow sounding exhausted and upbeat simultaneously. "How was thy flight?"

"Long," Wilhelm admitted. "And I flew back in time to yesterday. Seems I'll be enjoying July 4^th at the same time as the Americans."

Allie's grin got bigger. "Ja. 'Twill be cool."

"I doubt I'll celebrate American independence this year." Wilhelm suppressed a grimace. He wasn't even American; he'd only been to the blasted place twice. So why did he care so much about the Americans at this moment? Was it because they had some degrees of freedom and seemed the foil to this North Korea-esque regime?

Alastair tilted his head to the side. He seemed to be thinking, collecting his thoughts, or trying to recall what he wanted to say. His eyes grew distant, and Wilhelm's stomach leapt into his throat as he anxiously awaited his brother's response.

"I miss you," he finally slurred. Wilhelm's shoulders sank a little in relief. He'd been anticipating a repetition of something Allie had already said, or something worse, like a seizure or loss of consciousness.

"I miss you, too." Normally, he'd have brushed him off, turned away, giving Allie his shoulder instead of a legitimate response. Nowadays he felt compelled to make up for all the times he'd ignored Allie, tormented him, spoken cruelly about him behind his back. To think he'd only started truly caring about Allie when Father had fallen ill made him feel wretched, like he'd used terminal disease to his advantage. But that was exactly what he'd done, was 't not? First with Father, and now with Allie.

Wicked person, he thought to himself. He didn't deserve a brother like Alastair. He didn't deserve anyone.

They talked for about thirty minutes about mindless things, like the upcoming Olympic Games (WF was sending one athlete) and the complete lack of reparations for the Chinese government. Alright, 'Twas not so mindless, but 'twas superficial nonetheless. No personal information this government did not already know was divulged.

He showered, changed into his nightclothes, and sat on the edge of his bed, not quite tired. He knew he needed rest, although his body was convinced the time of night was earlier than it actually was. Damned jet lag was going to kill him.

He felt a twinge at that choice of words. Had he always been this insensitive?

Wilhelm curled into a ball atop the covers, his knees pressed into his thorax, and began an interminable night of sleeplessness.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Sleep

Soon, as the hours went by and as the guests drifted off into a sleep, along with the caffeine wearing off from Jacob, the nation would end up in a slumber with one eye open. Even though Nate's murder of the soldier was still undiscovered, the Ministry has been still running regardless. Even when the stars appear in the skies, the oiled gears of the government still ran.

11:45.

11:46.

11:47.

...

5:58.

5:59.

6:00.

The Grand Morning

The Leader woke up from bed, propping himself up, as he knew what day it was. He was about to present himself to the masses who were reckless enough to see him in person. Ok, rather not in person, but he would contact them nevertheless. The usual daily grind he does. He slipped on his rubber slippers and bathrobe, as he went to the kitchen in his penthouse to make breakfast. A simple tap of some buttons, along with inserting some bread in the toaster, gave him a cup of coffee, a cup of orange juice, and some toast. He put the toast through another machine to give himself a coat of strawberry jam.

He sat at the dining room table, as a monitor came down from above the table, appearing in front of him. The usual news switched on, as he did some channel surfing. There was that one cartoon that he liked, which was obviously, since he gave orders on what cartoon he wanted it to be. Self-pride, as usual. Finishing his breakfast, after the cartoon snakefish on his screen was waterboarding some spy, he took a shower then got dressed in his usual outfit. To make sure he looked more intimidating, he put on a long dark flowing cloak and a leather peaked hat. He posed a little in the mirror, making sure he had a good smile. Then he let his face go blank.

"Perfect."

He left his penthouse through the bookcase in his office, as he got himself comfy in his chair. There was a knock at the door, as he had his men let them enter. Two burly men were carrying what was needed. It was a large electronic foldable video screen. Large enough to cover one wall of his office. It would serve as a projection screen, almost. "Screen is almost set up, Leader sir."
"Excellent. Make sure we don't have any technical issues with the broadcast. Everyone at the hotel should be waking up by now, but let me introduce myself to them during breakfast. The banquet should keep them happy."

---

At the residence of Jessica Madden and Charlotte Huxley, the both almost couldn't wait for Solstice. The moment the alarm clock went off for Jessica, she immediately slammed the top of it to turn it off. Charlotte seemed to have heard the alarm, as both women immediately jolted up from the bed, as it was a special time. "It's fucking happening! It's really happening, Charlie!" Jessica said in a state of mania and euphoria, as she immediately ran out of the bedroom to make breakfast and to get ready. Charlie followed suit, as she made sure that she got her coffee before she got dressed. Jessica was still in his nightgown, as she was whipping up breakfast for both her and her girlfriend. "I recommend having some orange juice, Jessica. I know you would be excited, but I don't want you to get a heart attack." Charlie said, as Jessica already got a plate of bacon ready for Charlie. Jessica gave a kiss on Charlie's forehead, as she gave her a smile.

"I'll calm down when I get the suit on. Now eat your breakfast. I'm sure they will have every meat option at the Oasis, but I got a starter for you." Jessica said, as she continued to get her breakfast set up. Jessica and Charlie had already followed the Leader's instructions on not wearing anything that he deems "risque", especially if it makes him prone to straight up slut shame them. Jessica still found a loophole she can try. As Jessica was eating some pancakes she made with Charlie, she wondered how Keller was doing, since today was the day.

---

Keller woke up much later than everyone else, though she knew that she didn't have to worry about anything until the luncheon later. She can still visit Jessica and Charlie after she had breakfast. After making sure she was energized enough to leave the bedroom, she left her room as she said hello to her late father that was still eternally framed in a picture on the wall. Her mother was having some oatmeal and was going to spend time with a "book club" that she found. Keller didn't probe into her mother's affairs, since she wanted to not put some stress into her. She had her own responsibilities for today, so all Keller needed to do was not mess things up. "You're planning on seeing the Leader today, Keller?" her mother asked her, as Keller had some eggs for breakfast. "He's most likely going to call or text me for a meeting. Don't know when, but I want to spend some time with my friends. Everyone's probably going to be staying up for the fireworks tonight." Keller remarked, knowing what the Ministry of Tourism had set up with the help of the Leader.

"You know, I noticed that you're spending time with a young man a little older than your age. Masami was his name, was it?" her mother asked, but Keller's face immediately redden. "We're friends. That... That's what matters." Keller immediately lied, since Masami was her boyfriend. She is most likely going to spend lots of time with him. Maybe we might watch a movie. There was still the thought of things going wrong, due to the Leader of all people. But this was a holiday. Maybe she shouldn't jinx it?

---

Breakfast started at 7AM at the hotel, which was to help give time for the guests to get themselves ready. The banquet hall was on the 2nd floor, which made up most of the hotel floor, though there was also the kitchen that served as the source of most of the breakfast food for the banquet.

The breakfast at the banquet hall at the hotel looked luxurious, though it was to help accommodate the needs of the guests. There was no shellfish, which was sad, since grilled snakefish was still good for a nice omelet. Then again, no shellfish allergy should ruin a vacation. It was a mix between a traditional and continental breakfast. There was fresh pastries of croissants and breads to toast with a toaster nearby, the conveyer belt kind that was common in other hotels. There was a pitcher of batter to make pancakes or waffles from some electronic griddles and makers. There was a tub of grits and oatmeal There was miso soup and rice that guests can have, along with another Asian dish of Youtiao breadsticks. The main breakfast dish was a buffet for guests to make their own full english breakfast with bacon, sausage, eggs (in any kind, even as omelets), black pudding, baked beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, and beverages of the guests choice with all sorts of fruit juices, coffee, and tea.

Two soldiers were still in the process of setting up a similar electronic folding monitor screen, like the one at the Leader's office, inside of the banquet hall, in front of the tables, so the guests can see. Several other soldiers were stationed around the banquet hall and the hotel to keep an eye on the guests to make sure they weren't doing anything foolish. Otherwise, some warning shots might be fired. Their rifles are still loaded with actual ammunition..

[Socialist Macronesia]

---

hell upon earth
the overlooked battle
late february, over thirty years ago

---

Staff Sergeant Jeremy Miles had been in the Marine Corps for nearly ten years and he had never seen anything like this before.

As he peered out the commander's hatch of his M60A1 tank, he first saw what felt like endless sand and desert that dried his mouth and made his eyes water. He needeth look only a little farther out to see a startling sight. Aside from the seemingly endless desert, he saw hundreds of specks of light far away in the distance. Some were sparkling more than others, others were hardly visible at all against the infinite sea of sand. Most of these specks were tanks and armoured vehicles. More specifically, they were the armoured forces of the Iraqis that, only moments ago, had been annihilated by the Marines' tanks, personnel carriers, and helicopters. The air smelled harsh and acrid from the sheer number of rounds dispensed into the vehicles of the Iraqi ground forces.

As the tank commander, Miles was in charge of keeping his team coordinated. His main job was to call out the relative location of enemy vehicles for the three men below to use to shoot. Down in the tank, Sergeant Julio, the gunner, was awaiting orders from Jeremy to aim at any potential targets. Corporal Moore, the driver, was trying his best to drive in a straight line. Lance Corporal Baker, the lowest ranked of the four men, was ready to load a shell into the tank's main gun. If an enemy were to so much as peek out at them through the expansive haze of sand and smoke that now blanked the ground across the landscape, they could turn and fire in mere seconds,. completely independent from any sort of commands. In the sky, Cobra gunships salvoed missiles at unseen targets awaiting the Marines, spotted enemy command posts and artillery pieces, and destroyed everything that the Iraqis could even possibly use as combat support with a flurry of Hydra rockets. Miles may have been wearing a commander's helmet, along with some ear protection, but that did little to mask the constant sound of helicopter blades, tank treads, gunfire, and the occasional sound of a tank or missile firing, alongside the barely audible whizz of the munitions flying through the sky.

Miles took out his canteen from a pouch on his vest and took a swig. The water was hot and tasted distinctly metallic, but it at least ridded his mouth of the taste of propellant and sand, along with the putrid aroma of dried spit that caked his tongue. He capped his canteen and slid it back into its pouch. Jeremy knew it wouldn't do to drink all of the water he had now, especially since there was no real way to know how long this battle would last; it could last an hour or two or it could last days. Judging by the previous small skirmishes, it was going to be on the lower end of the length spectrum.

"Moore, look out ahead, we're coming up on some wreckage." Through the blanket of particulate that made it nearly impossible to see, he could see a warm light that was slowly brightening as he got closer. Jeremy steadied his coaxial M60A2 light machine gun and kept it trained on the light. It was probably just an disabled enemy armoured vehicle, but he wouldn't take any chances. After all, there could still be soldiers who had survived the impact and had taken up whatever remaining arms they had.

And then suddenly it all came into view. It appeared to be what was probably a BTR armoured personnel carrier, or at least what was left of it. It had been absolutely shredded by a sabot round. Evidently it had taken more than just a sabot, though, because it had practically been cut in half clean across the middle. The driver's section had been lit up by a 30mm chaingun, probably by the Cobras of which he could still hear the blades. Everyone inside the cabin was dead, for sure. They'd been killed by the metallic spall from the initial sabot impact. But that wasn't gruesome enough, because whatever had hit them next, likely a TOW missile, or perhaps a Hellfire, had clearly ignited everything and everyone inside the armoured cabin. Jeremy had to resist the urge to vomit across the front of the tank, but he forced the foul, acidic taste back down to his stomach with all the force his throat could muster. The tank turned just a tiny bit to the left to avoid the pile of twisted, charred metal, then resumed its original course. There was no sense in stopping and trying to help. There was nothing any of them could do. Sometimes it was just too late to save a man. The tanks, helicopters, and LAVs of the Marine 1st Division continued onto their objective.

---

Nate woke up at four-thirty in the morning. Waking up was a bit of a subjective term; Nate hadn't exactly slept for a few weeks. A few months ago, he didn't sleep at all, but every so often he would get so tired he would just have to fall asleep, and whenever this happened, there was... a lot of not-fun things going on in his mind. Past traumatic experiences, literal hellscapes complete with fire and burning, the last cries of people he'd killed; but he'd gotten used to it all. There wasn't much to be afraid of anymore. Over time, he'd stopped noticing or caring. And then one day, they'd stopped, at least for the most part. He still had a very hard time sleeping, but at least he could get some measure of shut-eye each night; even if he'd really only slept a few hours, he didn't feel like he was going to pass out or die at any moment. And then Nate realized that he had awoken because someone was opening the door to his room.

He drew the fixed-blade combat knife from his nightstand and gripped it tightly, hidden down under the sheets. If anyone were to so much as try to attack him, he would have an automatic advantage. Luckily it was Sean... Sean?

"How the fuck did you get in here?"

Nate rubbed his eyes. Yes, it was Sean. He was already dressed and ready for the day, which meant he had probably gotten out of bed even earlier than Nate had. He didn't even look tired. That had to be one of those things that came to you naturally when you got older, the ability to function without much sleep.

"I... had a bit of a bad dream." Sean scratched his neck. "Go figure."

Nate practically jumped out of bed. "You had a what?" His jaw dropped in mock amusement. "You had a nightmare? That's easily the most emotion or fear you've shown in your entire life!" Nate grinned. "I'll be sure to savor this moment."

"No, it didn't really startle me. Just woke me up." Sean eyed the knife that Nate had in his hand. "Should I even ask how you got that in the country?"

"I have transcended past these petty matters like airport security, Sean. No, I just jumped in. From a plane. Didn't get caught. I did have to neutralize a soldier, but that worked in my favor because then I got his uniform. That's how I got in with my knife."

"Got anything else? Guns, equipment in general, any of that?"

Nate shook his head and lied. "Not much."

"So... you mind telling me why you're here, Nate?"

"I've got to settle an old score with some people. But first I thought I'd enjoy what there is to do and see here?"

"Who are these people you have to settle a score with?"

"You wouldn't know 'em. Besides, you'll probably meet them soon enough. Don't worry about me, I've got all my stuff under control. I don't need any of your help." He walked to the bathroom. "They haven't opened the hotel breakfast yet. I'd ask you to get me some food if it was open. I guess it would be a good idea to get ready for the day. I'll be ready in a few minutes." Nate quickly shaved, took a shower, and changed into a set of Macronesian Army combat fatigues. They were different enough from Sean's Naval Protection fatigues that one would have a hard time thinking the two were from the same country if you didn't see the very distinctive flag patches on their shoulders. Luckily, they were both different enough from the Main Nation Ministry soldiers' uniforms that there would be no mistaking the Macronesians for any government forces.

Nate pulled up a chair at the dining room table across from Sean. They just stared at each other for a few seconds before Sean broke the silence. Not with words, but snoring. Nate rubbed his eyes. Might not be a bad idea to try and get some more rest. He tried laying down but after much tossing and turning he decided that there was no way he could possibly get anymore sleep without deliberately knocking himself unconscious, which didn't exactly make for the best rest. Nate hastily scribbled a "BE BACK SOON" on the bedside notepad, tore it off, got up, and placed it in front of Sean, who had apparently decided to get on the couch while Nate wasn't looking. Nate took off his uniform shirt and draped it over a chair nearby. The thought of wearing it had suddenly felt sickening. He considering finding something else to wear, perhaps in the gift shop, but he decided that his white undershirt would do. The uniform pants could stay. Grabbing the things he would need for the day, including his knife (which he expertly concealed by placing it in his pocket where it would not fall out), his wallet, and a pair of wraparound sunglasses, he stepped out of his room, took the elevator down to the relatively deserted lobby, and began to walk.

---

Alex gently shook Jacob's sleeping body. It was now 7:00, and Alex was hungry. He could've gone to the breakfast by himself, but he decided that Jacob would be coming, and if that meant he had to face the consequences of his actions, then Alex considered it a good thing. Plus, Sean, even though he thought that Jacob was an undisciplined lucky bastard who had only survived the war by good fortune, enjoyed his company. He could be pretty funny sometimes, and it often made up for his shortcomings. And even though Alex didn't like to admit that Jacob was a good tactician, that quality definitely was something the two of them shared.

"Jacob... wake up..." Jacob did not wake up. He was probably dreaming about eating bonbons and drinking champagne on the beach with hot women, Sean thought. He decided that a soft approach would probably not work, at least in Jacob's case. So Sean did the best thing he could think of: he threw off the sheets, picked up a groggy Jacob, laid him in the bathtub, and turned on the cold water. Jacob practically hissed at him, flailed around, and bolted out of the bathroom, sopping wet. He then proceeded to let out a string of particularly colorful words (only most of which were in English), try to tackle Alex, and nearly give himself a concussion from hitting the wall. Luckily, his strong Czech forehead could probably take bullets. The last thing he worried about was getting a concussion after ramming into some wall. He would be fine. The wall would not.

"Alexander... if you ever do that again... I will... fucking kill you." He struggled to his feet. "Fuck you! F--"

"The hotel breakfast is open."

And then suddenly, the room erupted into chaos. Jacob sprinted into the bathroom, and in about thirty seconds he had finished changing into his outfit for the day. He came out of the bathroom looking a little disheveled but he was ready to head downstairs nonetheless.

"Let'sgogetsomefoodGodfuckingdamnitiam STARVING!" He ran to the door, then turned back to the room, ran to his bedside table, grabbed the room key, and dashed outside.

"Wait for..." Alex sighed. "Gonna make me come down by myself, I see."

---

Sarah woke up by her own accord at about seven. It was a little disorienting, considering that her first instinct that hit her when she woke was that she had been taken from Macronesia and dropped out... wherever here was. But after getting up and preparing a nice cup of coffee for herself, she felt much more awake and had come to the conclusion that she was not being kidnapped. This was, in fact, a vacation, even if it was a little... strange. And just a tiny bit seedy. But nevertheless, she was ready to go down to the hotel's breakfast in about ten minutes. She secretly hoped that Helena was there. As a friend, of course.

Yes, that's what it is. A friendship. Nothing more. Unless...

But Helena or no Helena, she was about to enjoy some good fucking waffles.

---

At around the same time that Sarah had left to go get breakfast, Sean had woken up from his little nap on Nate's couch. He immediately saw the note that Nate had left him. Wonder how long he's been gone. After a few minutes of waiting, he determined that Nate was probably either at breakfast or gone doing other things. Either way, Sean was hungry, and he wasn't going to find Nate just standing around, so he grabbed his stuff and went down to the buffet. There were a few delegates moseying around and getting their breakfast, there was Sean and Jacob and--

"Ay, Sean, where the fuck did you go last night? Didn't see you after you went to sleep."

--Sarah, who was devouring an entire Belgian waffle with her bare hands.

"Hey, don't look at me, I got the idea from Jacob!" She pointed a chocolate-stained finger at Jacob, who was currently earning some disapproving looks from Alex for trying to fit his entire waffle into his mouth. But to everyone's amazement, concern, and possibly disgust, he did eventually manage to get it all down in one bite without choking to death.

"That would've been better with something to drink," said Jacob, accompanied by only minor coughing.

Sean decided that he would just sit by himself at a table by the window, facing away from the rest of these buffoons who were supposed to be representing their country. Who decided to send these people? It had to have been Ross. Only Ross could've managed to put this absolute disaster of a crew together. And where even is he?

---

Ross woke up much later, about a quarter to eight. He woke up primarily because Ari was standing above him menacingly with a pillow and due to some stroke of luck, the shadow had fallen right on his eyes before she'd had the chance to swing. Doing a tactical roll towards Ari's side of the bed, he managed to avoid the first swing. He reached behind him and grabbed one of the other pillows. Ross brought it up to counter the next impact while giving Ari a sharp nudge. Apparently it was a little too sharp because it sent her careening off the back of the bed. In a final act of desperation in this battle, she took hold of Ross's left arm as she fell and pulled him off as well. In the end they were both laying in the middle of the floor and out of breath; most of it had been knocked out of them by the fall.

"Ari, what was that for?"

"I'm hungry. The breakfast buffet is open."

"And that justifies hitting me h--"

"Me wanty waffle." She was already at her feet and was tugging him to the bathroom. "Get changed so we can get something to eat."

Ultimately, Ross was not someone to question Ari, so he made sure to get changed as quick as he could, but it still took him a good ten minutes, most of which was spent getting his hair just right. Ross did find it absurd that people spent so much time working on something they couldn't even see, but he knew that it didn't matter what he thought, it mattered what everyone else thought, and they could see his hair.

"Alright, Ari, it's your turn. You've got to get ready too, you know."

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

When his hotel clock blared at 6:30 am, he rolled to the side, his eyes already open. He'd slept, what, an hour last night? Two? He must have nodded off at some point or another despite his horrendous insomnia.

He heaved himself off his bed, slinked into the bathroom, took a quick shower, shaved, moving through his morning routine like he was wading through oil. His arms were leaden as he struggled into an ice blue Oxford shirt, his legs almost numb as he struggled into navy pants, his fingers dysfunctional as he threaded his belt through the loops and tied the laces of his shoes. When he left his hotel room, 'twas already 6:57 local time, meaning he'd be a tad late. He cared little. He wanted to suffer for a day or two, for the duration of this trip, because 'twas what he deserved. He needed to be punished, at it might as well be on earth if he ever wanted to glimpse the Kingdom of Heaven.

There was a line for what appeared to be a waffle maker, consisting in no small part of burly men who could almost certainly wring Wilhelm's neck. Not feeling very Belgian, Wilhelm helped himself to some tea, sipping it casually whilst he waited for the rest of the party to file to their tables.

He didn't want to be alone. Not because he desired social interaction, but because he needed to find someone who would understand. Who would go to great lengths to receive the punishments they felt they deserved, whilst simultaneously making attempts to repay their loved ones after betraying them. He sought someone who might be his friend, or, at best, tolerant of his negative, shameful mood, who might already be friends with Marie and Alastair.

Allie. His stomach clenched. There was solace in the fact he was not here, under the Oceania-like eyes of the soldiers, who were accompanying them even to breakfast as though they anticipated a Socialist Macronesian terrorist attack. Although Wilhelm could be a prime person of interest, what with his rotten state, a thought that made him shift uncomfortably on his feet. He needed to blend in, to pretend he was sociable for a weekend, and then he could head back to Sophia and Allie.

His brother would not be awakened for another six hours, 8:00 their time. Six hours' worth of time he could have spent with his dear brother.

You needed a vacation, he reminded himself. Mother, Greta, and Marie encouraged thee to go. Thour't not making a mistake. Allie will still be there when you return. Allie told you to have a good time for him. And you'd promised you would. He knew he'd be damned if he broke that promise.

[Brettenwald]

"mrrh..." Paris groaned and rolled over to see Helena touching up cherry-red lipstick and a Dutch braid in the decorative mirror on the wall.
"I didn't know you were such a heavy sleeper," she commented, slinging her handbag over her shoulder and smoothing a stray wrinkle out of a sleeveless white blouse. "Or maybe I'm just quieter than I realize. Breakfast is on in-" she checked a Rolex Lady-Datejust "-now. See you downstairs."

His sister disappeared through the door in a cloud of Chanel No. 19 and self-confidence, leaving him to sigh resignedly and hit the shower. He'd just gotten his bathrobe on when a click-shrak noise came from behind the door to Marco's bedroom and his heart dropped to somewhere around his kidneys. Oh gods no.

"Marco, what the fuck?" His brother was neatly putting away a gun cleaning kit as if it were the most normal thing in the world, ejecting a full magazine from a mean-looking Glock 17. "How- what-" The big man waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid. It's just in case Nate decides to go at you or Patyu and her girlfriend. Oh come on, you fool," he snapped at Paris' bewildered expression. "He almost killed both of you once. He might not try again, but if he does then I want to level our end of the playing field as much as possible and I sure as hell don't trust Ross of all people to keep him in line. What Ari sees in that hypocritical [expletive] champagne socialist [expletive] viper I'll never understand. We're still doing the wedding, of course. We're going to be nothing but happy, congratulatory, and polite company."
"But you just said-"
"Yes, I know I think he's a good-for-nothing son of a bitch, but that doesn't mean I can't get along with him socially," Marco said with the air of one explaining something to a particularly slow child. "Mendacity makes the world go 'round." Unbeknownst to his brother, the solid silver wolf's-head torc necklace glinting out from under his dove grey polo shirt was the other half of a matched set he'd bought for himself and Rohan. Just as well, really, it would have given him another anxiety attack about reputations and the future and what have you.

"I'll catch you up downstairs at breakfast, then," was all he said as he left his brother to whatever n-dimensional chess game he was playing and made for the bathroom. He'd heard his grandmother say once that his brother and sister were twice too smart for their own good and ten times so for everybody else's.

Helena made herself a Denver omelet and grabbed a croissant & a glass of orange juice before joining Marco at a table in the center of the room, who at first glance appeared to be eating half a dozen waffles and a pig's worth of bacon. Meanwhile, Paris was in line at the waffle maker and rather uncharacteristically decided to make small talk with somebody. "Er- hi. Wilhelm? Paris Cärrino. I was at the Halloween shindig party thing in New Hamletberg last year and I think we met in the hospital when I visited your brother."

[Kiu Ghesik]

Patyu.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
The Hotel, the Ministry. July 3. Night.

For a brief, panicked, scrambling moment, Patyu was unsure. Did she have her pills? She had to have brought them, right? She would never go anywhere without them- she remembered all too well what happened without them, and if she happened to forget them then she would have to live that all over again, and she was already barely managing her anxiety as it was, and and and and and ten thousand thoughts rushing through her mind, thoughts trying to drown her, pull her into the deep, so much so that as she dumped her bag out onto her bed and rummaged frantically through it she nearly missed the little orange and white bottle that came clattering onto the floor.

Patyu had to double-take to prevent herself from darting after it. "Oh, yeah, um, I h-have it." Stooping over, she picked up the bottle and set it back up on her bed, next to a black, gauzy carrying case full of cosmetic supplies. "Here. Okay, I've got it. I'm fine. You're fine, you're fine, you're fine..." She noticed absentmindedly that her breath had become remarkably fast. That would probably take quite a while to go away.

"I, uh, Ari... Ari. Yeah, Ari." Patyu sighed, feeling her body deflate and her tail droop, the simultaneous joy of the evening and the stress of the preceding mishap leaving her at once. "Let me change first, okay?"

"Aww, is it that bad?" Raya frowned, mentally slapping herself. Don't put her on the spot like that, you fool. "Sure, babe. Whenever you're ready."

"Th-thank you." Snatching a particularly soft bundle from her pile of clothing, Patyu slipped into the hotel room's bathroom, quickly tossing aside her rumpled travelling clothes and switching into something a little more comfortable. When she stepped out once more, it was clad in a pair of soft light-grey pajama bottoms, drawstrings dangling out their front, and a loose-fitting, cream-white top embroidered with a glittering, sequined black cat. Like most cat-themed items Patyu owned, the purchase had been the idea of someone near her, not her own. In this case it had been Raya's. Not that Patyu was complaining.

She made her way to her bed, cleared a space large enough to lie on from the pile of her things, and pulling a neck pillow from that pile flopped down on the bed face-first, her stockinged feet just barely hanging off it despite her having more than enough room to comfortably lay the entire length of her body. One cheek squished into the mattress and her face half-veiled by a tumble of thick truffle-colored hair, she turned to look at Raya and groaned.

"Mrph, Ari. I... I don't really know, actually, I meant to talk to her but I never got a chance. I saw her on the bus for a second, she looked alright, and I know I've been calling her, but I'm still worried for her." It wasn't immediately obvious whether it was grumpiness or huffiness embodied in the sigh that escaped Patyu's lips as she rolled onto her back and grabbed the snakefish plush, cradling it in her arms as she scooted up the bed to nestle in the pillows. Absentmindedly Patyu flopped its head back and forth, its long body wiggling in reaction. Then with a barely-muttered boop she pressed one finger into its forehead, giggling as its little outstuck felt tongue waggled and its eyes bowed in response.

"H-how'd you possibly be able to say this thing's ugly? It's adorable." Patyu hugged it to her chest before setting it down beside her. The two sat in silence for a moment. Then another.

Then another.

While it must've only been a few seconds, it still seemed an eternity before the silence was broken by Patyu's half-stifled yawn. "So, uh, now what?" she posed. While she couldn't see it, from where Raya was sitting she seemed merely two tufts of fur and a pair of legs sticking out from a pile of pillows, pressed against the backrest of the bed and nestled between them as she was. "Do we just, y'know, go to bed, or..? I'm kind of tired, but at the same time, I... I dunno. Tried those breathing exercises in the bathroom. Still feel tense. Don't really know what to do." Meekly, she shrugged, then half-extricating herself from the pillows peeked her head out at her girlfriend.

Fondly, she smiled. Sometimes, she supposed, when all paths were muddied, doing nothing was the best choice. Especially when you had someone to do nothing with right beside you.

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

"mrrh..." Paris groaned and rolled over to see Helena touching up cherry-red lipstick and a Dutch braid in the decorative mirror on the wall. "I didn't know you were such a heavy sleeper," she commented, slinging her handbag over her shoulder and smoothing a stray wrinkle out of a sleeveless white blouse. "Or maybe I'm just quieter than I realize. Breakfast is on in-" she checked a Rolex Lady-Datejust "-now. See you downstairs." His sister disappeared through the door in a cloud of Chanel No. 19 and self-confidence, leaving him to sigh resignedly and hit the shower. He'd just gotten his bathrobe on when a click-shrak noise came from behind the door to Marco's bedroom and his heart dropped to somewhere around his kidneys. Oh gods no.

"Marco, what the fuck?" His brother was neatly putting away a gun cleaning kit as if it were the most normal thing in the world, ejecting a full clip from a mean-looking Glock 17. "How- what-" The big man waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid. It's just in case Nate decides to go at you or Patyu and her girlfriend. Oh come on, you fool," he snapped at Paris' bewildered expression. "He almost killed both of you once. He might not try again, but if he does then I want to level our end of the playing field as much as possible and I sure as hell don't trust Ross of all people to keep him in line. What Ari sees in that hypocritical [expletive] champagne socialist [expletive] viper I'll never understand. We're still doing the wedding, of course. We're going to be nothing but happy, congratulatory, and polite company."
"But you just said-"
"Yes, I know I think he's a good-for-nothing son of a bitch, but that doesn't mean I can't get along with him socially," Marco said with the air of one explaining something to a particularly slow child. "Mendacity makes the world go 'round." Unbeknownst to his brother, the solid silver wolf's-head torc necklace glinting out from under his dove grey polo shirt was the other half of a matched set he'd bought for himself and Rohan. Just as well, really, it would have given him another anxiety attack about reputations and the future and what have you.
"I'll catch you up downstairs at breakfast, then," was all he said as he left his brother to whatever n-dimensional chess game he was playing and made for the bathroom. He'd heard his grandmother say once that his brother and sister were twice too smart for their own good and ten times so for everybody else's.

Helena made herself a Denver omelet and grabbed a croissant & a glass of orange juice before joining Marco at a table in the center of the room, who at first blush appeared to be eating half a dozen waffles and a pig's worth of bacon. Meanwhile, Paris was in line at the waffle maker and rather uncharacteristically decided to make small talk with somebody. "Er- hi. Wilhelm? Paris Cärrino. I was at the Halloween shindig party thing in New Hamletberg last year and I think we met in the hospital when I visited your brother."

Wilhelm suppressed a frown as a young man whom he was fairly certain hailed from Brettenwald approach him. He had the same pale hair as two others in his party, another man and a girl--his brother and sister, if he recalled events from October correctly--but was of smaller stature than the first man, who towered above the crowd, some of the Navy SEAL lookalikes included.

"Er- hi. Wilhelm? Paris Cärrino. I was at the Halloween shindig party thing in New Hamletberg last year and I think we met in the hospital when I visited your brother."

Perplexed, Wilhelm knitted his eyes together. "Hello," he began in a bemused voice. "I...I do not know if I spent much time at ze hospital zat day, but I do recognize your face. We must have crossed paths at some other point in time." He pushed the image of Allie lying still in that hospital bed from his mind and visibly stiffened.

"Anyhow, I am indeed Prince Wilhelm Kehrer of Western Fardelshufflestein. Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

Wilhelm could not bear to face anyone today. Sitting in his apartment, his back against the locked door, head flung against the beveled wood. A splitting hangover, the worst one he'd had in years, rendering him useless and almost physically incapable of moving. The lights were off, the curtains and blinds were drawn, and he'd already thrown up four times in the past two hours; he was a complete wreck.

Last night hadn't happened. Last night had not happened. He must have gotten drunk and been slipped acid, because there was no way he had snogged the goddamn Treasury Minister into the wee hours of the morning.

He had no idea how it had happened. He just knew that it had, unless 't had been a sort of fever dream. But the horrid pounding in his head all but affirmed the veracity of those disjointed memories. The sprinting around the palace grounds, traversing the deserted city hand-in-hand, breaking into a bar, giggling as they'd made their way back to his place and--well, not done anything that he could remember. Not that that assuaged his conscience. He'd regressed, majorly, and had undone years of trying to flee his immoral past.

His cell phone was dead, its screen protector as well as the actual screen cracked. He'd plugged it into the wall charger. That was two hours ago, right after he'd first vomited.

Was this how it felt, Alastair? He grimaced in pain that encompassed more than one dimension. Was this how it felt when you woke up every morning after a drinking binge? Wert thou really in this much pain? And to think that I--

He couldn't even say it. Not in his own mind. But it was the truth, was it not? He'd been verbally abusive toward his brother. He'd done more than berate him; he'd destroyed the last bit of Alastair's resolve, whatever was holding him together through all the grief, and broken him. Hell, he'd throttled Alastair a number of times, had smacked him once or twice to shake him from his drunkenness, because he had not known what else to do to bring his brother back. Allie had literally been dying before his very eyes, and he'd done nothing to save him.

Oh mein Gott.

This is all my fault.

He'd essentially killed the one person who still cared about him.

[Brettenwald]

Patyu.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
The Hotel, the Ministry. July 3. Night.

For a brief, panicked, scrambling moment, Patyu was unsure. Did she have her pills? She had to have brought them, right? She would never go anywhere without them- she remembered all too well what happened without them, and if she happened to forget them then she would have to live that all over again, and she was already barely managing her anxiety as it was, and and and and and ten thousand thoughts rushing through her mind, thoughts trying to drown her, pull her into the deep, so much so that as she dumped her bag out onto her bed and rummaged frantically through it she nearly missed the little orange and white bottle that came clattering onto the floor.

Patyu had to double-take to prevent herself from darting after it. "Oh, yeah, um, I h-have it." Stooping over, she picked up the bottle and set it back up on her bed, next to a black, gauzy carrying case full of cosmetic supplies. "Here. Okay, I've got it. I'm fine. You're fine, you're fine, you're fine..." She noticed absentmindedly that her breath had become remarkably fast. That would probably take quite a while to go away.

"I, uh, Ari... Ari. Yeah, Ari." Patyu sighed, feeling her body deflate and her tail droop, the simultaneous joy of the evening and the stress of the preceding mishap leaving her at once. "Let me change first, okay?"

"Aww, is it that bad?" Raya frowned, mentally slapping herself. Don't put her on the spot like that, you fool. "Sure, babe. Whenever you're ready."

"Th-thank you." Snatching a particularly soft bundle from her pile of clothing, Patyu slipped into the hotel room's bathroom, quickly tossing aside her rumpled travelling clothes and switching into something a little more comfortable. When she stepped out once more, it was clad in a pair of soft light-grey pajama bottoms, drawstrings dangling out their front, and a loose-fitting, cream-white top embroidered with a glittering, sequined black cat. Like most cat-themed items Patyu owned, the purchase had been the idea of someone near her, not her own. In this case it had been Raya's. Not that Patyu was complaining.

She made her way to her bed, cleared a space large enough to lie on from the pile of her things, and pulling a neck pillow from that pile flopped down on the bed face-first, her stockinged feet just barely hanging off it despite her having more than enough room to comfortably lay the entire length of her body. One cheek squished into the mattress and her face half-veiled by a tumble of thick truffle-colored hair, she turned to look at Raya and groaned.

"Mrph, Ari. I... I don't really know, actually, I meant to talk to her but I never got a chance. I saw her on the bus for a second, she looked alright, and I know I've been calling her, but I'm still worried for her." It wasn't immediately obvious whether it was grumpiness or huffiness embodied in the sigh that escaped Patyu's lips as she rolled onto her back and grabbed the snakefish plush, cradling it in her arms as she scooted up the bed to nestle in the pillows. Absentmindedly Patyu flopped its head back and forth, its long body wiggling in reaction. Then with a barely-muttered boop she pressed one finger into its forehead, giggling as its little outstuck felt tongue waggled and its eyes bowed in response.

"H-how'd you possibly be able to say this thing's ugly? It's adorable." Patyu hugged it to her chest before setting it down beside her. The two sat in silence for a moment. Then another.

Then another.

While it must've only been a few seconds, it still seemed an eternity before the silence was broken by Patyu's half-stifled yawn. "So, uh, now what?" she posed. While she couldn't see it, from where Raya was sitting she seemed merely two tufts of fur and a pair of legs sticking out from a pile of pillows, pressed against the backrest of the bed and nestled between them as she was. "Do we just, y'know, go to bed, or..? I'm kind of tired, but at the same time, I... I dunno. Tried those breathing exercises in the bathroom. Still feel tense. Don't really know what to do." Meekly, she shrugged, then half-extricating herself from the pillows peeked her head out at her girlfriend.

Fondly, she smiled. Sometimes, she supposed, when all paths were muddied, doing nothing was the best choice. Especially when you had someone to do nothing with right beside you.

"Aw, Patya." Raya gave her a sympathetic look from the other pillow, an old sadness creeping back into sea-blue eyes. "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to talk to her tomorrow. Maybe at breakfast. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you, and she'll be proud of you, too. You've got a job and a girlfriend, after all," she added, a gentle joke earning a blush and a genuine giggle. Patya looked small and vulnerable as she usually did. Raya had always felt oddly protective of her, not in the sense of being domineering or controlling but rather as a rock to hold on to in life's turbulent waters, someome to hold and comfort and be there for a smol scared fish in a big sea.

"Would a back rub help you relax? They always put me to sleep when I was little." Patya made an interested noise and disentangled herself from her pillow pile, rolling over and immediately sighing happily as Raya got to work. Her girlfriend's skinny build and bony shoulders made platitudinous analogies to bread dough impossible, but if she had to take a crack at a comparison Patya's back felt like sculptor's clay over a bird's nest of conduit cable: pliable and pleasantly resistive but tense, so very worryingly tense underneath. "There, there," she murmured at a joyous sleepy wriggle from the small girl under her as gentle yet confident hands hit just the right spot. "Mmmmrrp... oh, that feels g^oo^oo^od..."

"It's the same sad story when someone astounds you/That the higher they fly, yeah, the harder they fall
Takin' it easy no matter what/And everyone says time will heal all your troubles away"

Raya's soft, slow mezzo-soprano and an '80s soft-rock song remixed into a lullaby on the spur of the moment had finally pushed Patya over the edge of sleep, judging by the teeny ladylike snores coming from the pillow. Reaching over to turn out the light, she ever-so-gently rolled her over and snuggled in beside the sleeping catgirl after a moment of hesitation. She wordlessly said a little prayer, wrapped her arms around Patya's warm softness as the big spoon and drifted off into a contented, dreamless sleep.

[Zeloria]

The hotel room

---

Leo stepped into the hotel, took the keys from the receptionist and went to his room. In the hallway he tried to avoid eye contact with the soldiers walking down the hallway. He failed. When he opened the door and walked into his room he was mildly impressed. The TV here might have a smaller resolution then the one back home, but it still is a good TV. Or at least it would have been if it wasn’t full of propaganda and rip offs. There was a fun cartoon that Leo watched for a full minute before shutting off the TV because he thought it sucked. He pulled out his “smartphone” and tried to connect to the galactic internet. As Leo expected, it didn’t work because of being in a different dimension and all. He also couldn’t connect to the local wi-fi because of the entire technological gap between his phone and the internet here. He then decided to simply play games on his phone until its time to go to bed.

The next morning

---

The next morning Leo woke up hungry and decided to go to the breakfast place. He was also mildly impressed by it, but then wonders how many money that they spend in here could spend on things that could actually help the population. He picked up a plate and put some bacon, eggs and mushrooms on it and looked for a table to sit down. He saw a table with the person who he sat next to in the shuttle. That guy from Western Farbesnuffelstein or something. He also saw that there was someone else at the table. He decided to take a seat and sit at the table because he knows Willhelm better then the other guests. Mostly because he sat next to him in the bus. He listened to the two talking and waited until someone notices him.

[Brettenwald]

Wilhelm suppressed a frown as a young man whom he was fairly certain hailed from Brettenwald approach him. He had the same pale hair as two others in his party, another man and a girl--his brother and sister, if he recalled events from October correctly--but was of smaller stature than the first man, who towered above the crowd, some of the Navy SEAL lookalikes included.

"Er- hi. Wilhelm? Paris Cärrino. I was at the Halloween shindig party thing in New Hamletberg last year and I think we met in the hospital when I visited your brother."

Perplexed, Wilhelm knitted his eyes together. "Hello," he began in a bemused voice. "I...I do not know if I spent much time at ze hospital zat day, but I do recognize your face. We must have crossed paths at some other point in time." He pushed the image of Allie lying still in that hospital bed from his mind and visibly stiffened.

"Anyhow, I am indeed Prince Wilhelm Kehrer of Western Fardelshufflestein. Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

"Thank you, it's nice to meet you, Wil- your hi- Mr.- what should I call you, anyway? We're both princes but the age gap, you know-" Paris broke off in his haste to retrieve a rapidly burning waffle with an air of serious embarrassment. "If you're here by yourself you're welcome to sit with us."

Helena watched her brother's attempts at socialization with a wry half-smile. If you'd told me two fraternal twins would turn out this different... Marco finished off a cup of violently black coffee and leaned back in his chair with the air of a cat after acquiring both cream and canary. "I see your crush has arrived," he teased, giving her a playful nudge and getting a discreet & ladylike kick in the shin for his trouble. As he was both built like a Scania and never skipped leg day, she immediately regretted wearing open-toed sandals. "Oh, shut up." His sister's turning bright pink and giving the thicc attractive med student a wink and an inviting smile was decidedly not lost on him, though.

[Socialist Macronesia]

Nate had no desire to eat breakfast in the hotel, especially not in front of all of the delegates, and especially not in front of....certain individuals who were particularly scared of him. For one, it would be giving away the element of surprise. Nobody except for Sean and Ross knew that he was even here, and Nate wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. There was also the fact that the breakfast wasn't going to be served until 7:00, which Nate considered a travesty to early risers. Hell, six would've been an acceptable time to start, but seven? That was just too damn late, and Nate didn't have time to waste today.

Well, that was a lie. He had the whole day to himself, really. Even though he had a couple things he needed to do before he left this godforsaken place, for the most part, he would have a lot of free time today. He was sure to grab a map of Main Nation Ministry from the desolate lobby before he went outside. He hailed a taxi down outside the hotel. Opening the door, he slid in the car and withdrew his wallet.

"Hello, sir. Where to?" The driver stared at him in the mirror.

"Nearest cafe. Don't care what it is, just take me there."

"Understood." The car pulled off from the curb and began driving. Nate wondered if this guy was a government agent, which then led him to question if all of the people around him here in this nation were just plants for the Ministry. It certainly felt that way, even if "everyone" was a little far-fetched. "Most" would be a more accurate term. And before Nate had the chance to further ponder the intricacies of maintaining a surveillance state, they were already there.

Nate handed the driver twenty bucks and hopped out of the car. In front of him was quite possibly the most decrepit and generally sketchy cafe he'd every had the joy and/or misfortune of visiting. There was a large faded logo of a steaming coffee mug on the side of the building which Nate hoped meant that this place was, in fact, an actual cafe and not an indication that he was going to get mugged if he stood outside too long. But Nate was hungry, and he didn't want to bother getting another taxi. He just made sure that his knife was down in his pocket and pushed open the double doors.

---

The experience wasn't necessarily a bad one, thought Nate. It had just been a little weird. Very weird, really. There wasn't anywhere to order anything, there were just a bunch of empty tables and a door that led to the kitchen. He sat down at one of the tables and, after a few minutes, some waitress brought a multitude of vaguely breakfast-related food to his table. Even though the omelette was strangely fishy and the water tasted like it had lead in it, he'd still had a nice croissant, some pastries and some mystery tea. Even now, he couldn't exactly tell what type of tea it was supposed to be. Black, white, green, whatever the hell it was, it had made him feel a little calmer. It could've also contained opioids, but Nate didn't see that as a downside. After he'd finished all the food he was going to eat, someone came out and gave him a bill. He was concerned for a second that this was actually just a scam or something, and he was going to be charged about a trillion dollars for it all, but after skimming over the receipt (which was written half in Greek and half in Luganda) he realized that it was only a couple dollars. Not bad. Not great, but not bad. He put a ten dollar bill on the table, made sure he hadn't been pickpocketed while he was eating breakfast and walked out of the cafe. He checked his watch. About six-thirty. He'd still eaten breakfast thirty minutes earlier than everyone else. Nate was going to wave down a cab, but after checking his map, he realized that the National Gardens were only a few blocks down the street.

No sense in driving there if it's so close. Might as well get some exercise. And so he started off on his walk. As he walked, he briefly scanned the buildings around him. A lot of businesses, some apartments above them, but it seemed very quiet. Almost too quiet. It didn't take him much looking around to notice everyone seemed to be closing their windows, which was never a good sign in any country. And then Nate realized that perhaps this wasn't the best neighborhood to be walking around in the early morning, especially while dressed in what, at a distance, could be easily seen as a local soldier's uniform, even if it was pretty obvious that it wasn't at closer distances. In an effort to not get shot in the face, he decided to walk a little faster, and by walk a little faster, he obviously was sprinting as fast as he physically could. Luckily, though, he made it to the entrance of the National Gardens just in time to hear gunshots echo across the desolate street behind him, along with the sound of car engines, helicopter blades, and screaming, probably that of sleeping anti-government protestors being yanked from their apartments by soldiers and taken away to be tortured and it was around this point that Nate had a very brief flashback to seven months ago and a separate flashback to about seven years ago and

---

---

"Target vehicles, two o'clock, three T-62s up on that ridge!" Miles couldn't see Julio, but the main gun moving to the right was a good enough sign that he had gotten the message. The sand-colored Iraqi tanks were hard to see with the naked human eye, but after years of training you could spot them almost the second they came into view. Evidently, everyone else had spotted them too, because all the tanks around them had begun to turn to engage the enemy armor.

"Sabot!" Julio called to his loader. A HEAT round would've probably sufficed, but nobody had time to think about or debate his choice. The team was on autopilot, and that meant no questions: you just did what you were told and asked questions later. Baker swiftly palmed the round in, locked the breech, and plugged his ears.

"READY!"

"FIR--" The gun roared to life, deafening everyone completely for a few seconds, but even as the breech came down and the empty shell was removed, everyone was already preparing for another shot without prompt. Miles could see through his binoculars that the leftmost tank of the three had been hit dead-center by their round, and the tanks around it ceased to exist just as quickly. A few APCs began to come down from the same low ridge but they were quickly met with a flurry of rockets from a Cobra gunship above them. More tanks, more vehicles, more soldiers on the ground, more orders, more tank shots. In just a minute or two of combat, Miles and his tank had eliminated two T-62s, a T-72, two BMP-1s, and had forces the retreate of several Iraqi units. Even though Miles didn't know it, he'd killed two Iraqi soldiers and wounded five more with his mounted machine gun after providing some suppressing fire for an LAV to kill a T-72 with a Dragon anti-tank missile. A few minutes after that, it was clear to Miles and the tank crew that the resolve of the Iraqi units had begun to fail. Around them, HEAT rounds and missiles were salvoed at the dug-in Iraqi positions while the gunships hit any soldiers who dared to leave the safety of their vehicles or, in the case of the infantry, their foxholes. Several attempts at counterattacks were made by Iraqi armor but they were quashed by the Marines' air support before they even materialized. This was no longer a battle. It was a slaughter.

---

---

"—arts at eight, sir."

Nate snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry, what was that?" Then he looked around. He was sitting on a bench outside the front gate to the National Gardens. Faintly, he still heard helicopter blades. So it was real. But what concerned him more was that there was nobody around.

"Are you here for the tour?" A disembodied voice asked him. There weren't any speakers around, at least that he could see, nor were there any cameras. So how would... they know he was here, much less... oh. She was behind one of the rose bushes. Probably one of the gardeners here.

"Oh, I couldn't see you there. What were you saying about a tour?"

He heard a chuckle, but she didn't stand up from behind the bush. "I assumed you were here for the tour of the gardens. It starts at eight. Are you—"

"I didn't even know there was a tour. It's a shame I'd have to wait here for another hour, though." He paused. "So... what's your name? If I'm not interrupting anything, of course. I'm Nate, by the way."

---

Sarah considered, at least for a few seconds after Helena walked in, that she might try to eat her waffles in a more "ladylike" manner but the desire to look "ladylike" in front of everyone was quickly overcome by the desire to enjoy herself. And how was she supposed to enjoy herself if she had to eat a waffle with a fork and knife? Besides, she hadn't put any syrup on it anyway, so she considered a food perfectly optimized for eating with your hands. Of course, trying to swallow it whole like a snake or Jacob was a bit excessive, but eating it like a large, more bread-y chocolate chip cookie? That was the peak of waffle eating strategies.

Oh, right, Helena's here.

Fortunately, Sarah wasn't a complete dumbass at reading people. Picking up the plate of her half eaten waffle and fried eggs, she walked over to her and Marco's table and sat down right in front of Helena.

"You know, I was hoping I'd see you here, Helena. How'd you sleep last night?" She bit a chunk out of her waffle. "Oh, and have you got any plans for today?"

Jacob stood up from his table. "Lady, whatever your name is. Helena—"

"Excuse him."

"—I think what Sarah's trying to do is this thing called 'trying to hang out.' You see, she's probably romantically and sexually interested in y—"

"Jacob, I swear to holy fuck, if you say one more word, I will... oh, shit."

Jacob picked up his third Belgian waffle and grinned. "Oh, don't be one of those people that's never cussed out someone that outranks them. I cussed out my commanding officer once when I was seventeen and I ended up getting a promotion out of it!"

"Jacob, one, I don't even want to ask how old you were when you came to Macronesia. Two, nobody is as stupid, lucky, or stupidly lucky as you."

"I was sixteen. Which technically doesn't violate UN protocol on child soldiers..."

Sarah sighed. "Jacob, when you feel the need to specify that something doesn't technically violate international law, you probably should not do that thing."

"It's called 'morally grey,' Sarah." Jacob begun trying to fit the whole waffle into his mouth. "Mhmhmm hmhm hmhmn mhmhnmhmhkk mhnhngm hmhm gmmhmhm. Mhmmhm hmhmhm."*

"Whatever. So yeah, Helena. What was I going to ask you again? I forgot."

_{*Roughly translated from Czech: Morally grey is the line that divides what a lawyer says is okay and what the public says is okay, and the opposite. You should try it sometime.}

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

"Thank you, it's nice to meet you, Wil- your hi- Mr.- what should I call you, anyway? We're both princes but the age gap, you know-" Paris broke off in his haste to retrieve a rapidly burning waffle with an air of serious embarrassment. "If you're here by yourself you're welcome to sit with us."

Wilhelm considered for a moment. "I suppose Wilhelm is fine in zis context," he decided, coolly regarding the younger prince. Well, that was one thing they had in common, was it not? He watched the man barely save a waffle from the hotel waffle maker, clumsily tossing it onto a paper plate ere it became to burnt to consume. Wilhelm knew a bit about cooking, seeing as he lived in an apartment devoid of palace staff, so he found the spectacle slightly amusing.

He deflected his enjoyment of the scene by thinking about Alastair.

"If you're here by yourself, you're welcome to sit with us." Paris was turning the shade of a pomegranate. His waffle, whilst not horribly burned, was a little browner than it should be but definitely palatable. Were Wilhelm not so lost in his jet lag and anxiety, he would have almost certainly offered to take it and make Paris another.

"Well, I suppose. I can meet ze rest of your family...I am afraid I have forgotten zeir names..." Wilhelm managed a pained smile. He took another sip of his tea, realized it was becoming tepid, sighed, and poured more from the pitcher to top it off. 'Twas convenient the waffle maker was near the drink station, no? "I'm not here on diplomatic business. I am just here because...well. My family thought I needed a getaway for a bit. And zey were right." He hesitated, sucked in his cheek. His teeth gnawed a bit at the flesh inside his mouth, not so hard as to leave impressions that would swell, but just enough that he felt it. The mouth was so sensitive, reacting to anything from heat to sugar and poor hygiene, more so than other parts of the body, he observed. Damage to anything there did not remain hidden as it did in, say, the liver.

He followed Paris back to the table and took a seat, accompanied by nothing but his cup of tea. The tea was alright as far as crappy hotel teas went, and was certainly not the worst he'd tasted. That award went to a tea he'd had with ice, American style, although he'd been in Canada at the time. North America was truly an odd place.

Another man took his seat beside Wilhelm with a plate piled with bacon and eggs, and--were those mushrooms?--sat there patiently. Wilhelm belatedly realized 'twas the man who had sat next to him on the shuttle last night. Leo, his name was. Wilhelm gave him a tentative greeting and returned to his tea, hoping the jolt of caffeine swirling within the liquid would wake him up.

[Wuchu]

"I'm just telling you, it's not a big deal that you can't match your shirt to the decor," I said to Stecker.

They rolled their eyes and groaned tiredly. "But it is! You know full well that if I'm not the hottest person in the room at any point, I'm basically one step away from killing myself."

I rubbed my eyes and stretched one last time, extending my arms tall over my head, my left hand grabbing my right wrist. "Whatever", I said mid-yawn. "I need a strong drink."

"Me too," Stecker said. "I mean, who the hell gets up at 6.30?"

"Insane people," I told them. "And soldiers."

"Same thing."

Though we thought we were going to be only of the first people there, by the time we arrived in the banquet hall for breakfast, there was already a long line at the buffet.

[Main Nation Ministry]

And now... A Love Story

It was about 6 o'clock in a flat at a public housing tenement in Bright Falls. Rachel Thorne groaned, as her alarm clock blared. Rachel was a simple woman. 29 years old and still unmarried. It was something she doesn't focus on. She still has a job. It pays less than some might expect, but it can still pay the taxes, plus botany was always a hobby she can enjoy. She wasn't going to complain. After all of these years, she still was trying to find that special someone. She wasn't picky. She had her own option when it came towards romance. She gotten rid of several trashy young adult fiction and romance novels that were called "literature". Bullshit, she thought, as she swatted them against the wall the first time she read them. There was other books she could enjoy, even if they were still laden with mind numbing propaganda to get the public to not think much thoroughly than they expect. She didn't read books that were "in the loop", just personal favorites.

Her taste for romance was more casual. She believed a healthy relationship was based on strong bonds, not this need for sex appeal. As much of a hot cougar she might be looking like, she was not the type for the risque. Sure, she was beautiful with some short light brown hair that reach to her neck and brown-grayish eyes, she could get a job as a model, but she rather do what she enjoyed, rather than be used as a poster girl in some military uniform. She made sure to brush her teeth and spray hairspray at her head, which was her usual routine for the morning. She never ate breakfast in her flat, usually grabbing a breakfast pastries that can be heated with the toaster or microwave, which she can bring to work. Her usual clothes were her green work jacket that she wore at the gardens, brown pants, and some simple tennis shoes.

She left the public housing building early, since she needed to get to work at the National Gardens before they were open at 8. Most of the streets are empty, since it was so early in the morning. However, she didn't take to account the large armored personnel carrier and the swarms of soldiers that were crossing the street ahead of her, as several helicopters swarmed overheard. Some soldiers were setting up barricades at some of the roads, especially in front of her, much to her annoyance. A soldier did come to her driver side window to address what was going on. "Good morning, ma'am! Sorry for the inconvenience. We are doing a little... well, I shouldn't say little, but we are scheduled to prepare a raid nearby. Those rebel scums will not know what hit them!" the soldier, not caring at the overkill that was about to follow. "You can't just block off the roads, I need to get to work!" Rachel said, as the soldier seemed to be aware. "Where do you work, ma'am?"
"The National Gardens."
"Ah! Don't worry. We hadn't set up any blockades near the National Gardens. All you need to do is do an U-Turn and continue down the other side of the district. That should get you there."
"A bit on the levels of tedious, though."
"I understand your frustration, but the nation comes first."
"Right. The nation does come first." Rachel said, as she had to go down another set of streets to get to the National Gardens.

There was something that was nagging her. It was a taboo topic, since she didn't want to get branded as a rebel. Not that she knew how to rebel, but she was against what was happening in Main Nation Ministry. The violence caused by all of the random incidents of the supernatural or sheer brutality was something she hated. She couldn't leave it all behind, however. She still had family and friends, but they were still followers for the nation. It would be no good in trying to convince them to escape with her. If she knew how to escape that is. She knew of people who go missing, but she never knew if it was because they escaped or because they were killed by the Ministry.

The parking lot to the National Gardens were still empty, expect for staff parking. Expected since it was still early. She already knew this. She was already tending to the plants in the morning, as some fellow co-workers were busy prepping things for the visitors that were meant to arrive today. There was a flower arrangement at the entrance beyond the gates that were in the colors of red, white, and black. Surprisingly, black roses are popular. Supposed to give an edge. One of her co-workers Nathanial was pruning some thorns off of a set of red roses. The roses matching the pupils on his eyes, since Rachel and the rest of the work crew at the garden were will aware of him being a demon.

"Is it me or did they block off a whole street?" Nathanial struck up a conversation with Rachel, as she watered some plants at a greenhouse. "Supposed to be a raid they were doing. Must have happened down a couple blocks." Rachel remarked. "I heard everyone is going over to Victory Square for the Solstice celebration. I was thinking of bringing some lads down over Frolicker's World."
"I might celebrate with some champagne. Two glasses for fun." Rachel joked, as they shared some small talk.

A couple of minutes later, Rachel had to get the gates open, since it was almost 8 o'clock. After getting the lock undone, she noticed a man sitting on the bench in front of the front gate. He looked like a soldier, but he was wearing a different type of combat fatigues. Was he a soldier from another country? Raffia, perhaps? "Garden tour starts at eight, sir." Rachel said, even though the man was staring out into space. Nate must have heard her, since he snapped back into reality.

"Are you here for the tour?"
"Oh, I couldn't see you there. What were you saying about a tour?" Nate said, as Rachel knew that this man was most likely a tourist or someone from a village. She couldn't help it, as she gave a chuckle. "I assumed you were here for the tour of the gardens. It starts at eight. Are you—"

"I didn't even know there was a tour. It's a shame I'd have to wait here for another hour, though." Nate paused. "So... what's your name? If I'm not interrupting anything, of course. I'm Nate, by the way."
"Rachel. You're free to enter the gardens, but we don't start official tours until 8 o'clock. There are still some sights to enjoy, even though the florists don't arrive until 9 AM, if you want to buy something." Rachel explained to Nate, as he took a look at the gardens. It was a contrast from the gloomy looking city street he was in, however the sky was starting to becoming blue. The flowers beyond the gate looked pretty enough to enjoy.

[Socialist Macronesia]

"Rachael. That's a pretty name." Fits right in with the pretty face. "Well, Rachael, it is really a shame that I'm not going to be here for the tour, but I suppose I can look around by myself. See you around." But as he stood from the bench, smiled at the gardener in front of him, and stepped towards the towering steel gates he suddenly felt that perhaps going in this place, no matter how... beautiful and enticing it was, wasn't the best of ideas, at least right now. There was just something in his head screaming at him to turn back and it was getting louder... and louder... and LOUDER...

"You know what?" He said as he turned around to face an currently idle Rachael, "Why not give me a little tour of the place before people start getting here? Call it a practice run for the real thing? I'm not exactly eager to wander around for an hour by myself, I suppose."

"Well, sir, I wish I could, but I've got some things to check up on—"

He held out a couple of bills. "I'll give you twenty-five dollars."

She grinned. "Oh, well now you've got yourself a deal." She strolled up to him and

---

---

the soldier sighed as Miles grabbed the handful of cash on the table and pulled it towards him. "Thanks for making a small donation to help with my Corvette payments, Julio." But before he could drag the cash all the way to his side of the table, Julio put his hand firmly over Miles' hands.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I've got a fuckin' straight. See, look, I've got—"

"Doesn't matter, Julio. I've got a full house, eights and fives."

"Jeremy, you are a dumbass. Straight beats full house."

"No, it doesn't." He stared down the sergeant.

"Oh, yes it fucking does."

"No. Baker, back me up here."

"He is correct." Baker was a pretty smart guy, but after he got out of college he had pretty much decided that he would be working for the Marine Corps for the rest of his career. He considered it the best decision of his life, even if sometimes it didn't feel that way. "Full house beats both a flush and straight, but not a straight flush."

"Bullshit! Flush and straight both beat full house. Have you little bitches ever played poker before?"

"Bet you five bucks you're wrong." Miles took a swig from a bottle of Gatorade. "Hell, if you're right, I'll give you ten bucks."

"Deal. Now how do you expect to prove anything?"

Moore tapped the ash out of his cigarette and drew a card from the front of the deck. "Julio. Look. They put the order of hands on this fuckin' card. And would you looky there, full house beats both a flush and a straight." Julio snatched the card from the corporal as if he was making this information up on the fly. "Oh, fuck me." He balled up the five dollar bill and lobbed it at Miles. "Well, here you go, motherfucker."

"Easiest five dollars I've ever made." He pulled the pile of money toward him. "Well, gentlemen, another round? Julio, try reading that card before we play again. Wouldn't want me taking any more of your cash, now would we?" Julio gave him the finger. Naturally, as he did this, a first lieutenant walked into the room, but even though he saw the gesture, he didn't say a word. Involuntarily, everyone stood to attention and saluted. He hastily returned the salute and ran into the room."

"Do you have a TV in this room?"

"Yes, sir. Hardly works, though," Baker said.

"Good enough. Turn it on." Miles grabbed the remote off of the table and clicked it on. "Get the news on." CNN happened to be the first one to come on. Miles didn't even hear a word that the anchor was saying to get the message, he just had to read the headline.

"Jesus fucking Ch—"

---

---

"—Nate!" Something hit him in the face. A hand. And it kind of hurt.

"Ow, Rachael. The fu... heck was that for?" He rubbed his cheek. "That was a little uncalled for."

"I'm sorry, you just sort of went... glassy-eyed for a minute. Didn't move or speak or anything. You okay?"

Nate quickly rubbed his eyes. "I think. It's just that sometimes I..." He contemplated his answer choices for a moment. "Don't... don't worry about it. I'm fine. Are you going to get this tour started or not?" And without hesitation he passed through the open gates. "So, Rachael, how long have you been working here for? Doesn't seem like the worst job you could have in... a place like this." He looked out upon the flower arrangement. "And I assume that's supposed to be the flag of Main Nation Ministry. Must've taken you a long time to get that all set up, I assume." He examined the arrangement closer. "Some interesting black roses, too. I don't think I've seen those before." He paused again "Well, it looks lovely." Just like you. "You know, I do know a little bit about botany. My mother liked to grow flowers and things when I was a kid... that was a long time ago, though. Oh, that makes me wonder: what got you interested in working with plants? Have you always liked it or did it just sort of... you know, come to you one day?"

[Main Nation Ministry]

Back at the hotel banquet hall, the soldiers had finished up setting up the monitor screen, as they radioed the soldiers back at the Ministry that it was all set up. Getting the green flag, one of the soldiers got the attention of those eating. "Ahem! If I may address the Solstice guests, we have a special greeting from the Leader of Main Nation Ministry!"

"For the Ministry!" the rest of the soldiers said in unison, as the monitor screen crackled to life. There was some sort of cheery stock music, as the screen was showing what appeared to be the Leader's office. However, with how the monitor screen was positioned, along with how high-tech it was, it almost looked like a new room just appeared in the banquet hall. The Leader was sitting at the chair at his ornate desk, as he was wearing his usual public dictator get-up.

"Good morning to you all! Of course, while I can't directly be there with you to greet you personally, I still taken the liberty to give a proper introduction!" the Leader said, making sure his long flowing dark cape and military cap was in view, so he could look intimidating. "Obviously, I'm the Leader of Main Nation Ministry. Leader, being the proper name to call me. I give my support to your courage to come here, as today is a special holiday to celebrate the summer and lifestyle of our fabulous nation! Not many tourists or foreign officials tend to come here, since we're listed as... dangerous. Silly, considering that there are more dangerous places to be, besides here. We have been keeping track of your safety, the moment you arrived. Some of you do happen to have interesting ways to get some things past security." the Leader remarked, until the tone of the speech changed to become more direct.

"You're not planning on causing shenanigans, are you? That's right. I'm talking directly to you. Even you, Ross! I see you there with your nomad girlfriend! Are you going to not cause trouble? Will you be where you should be?"

"...Of course, you will." the Leader gave a smile, as he was looking directly at where Ross was seated. A sense of malice, until he suddenly broke the awkward silence. "I do give some credit. You all seem to be enjoying yourselves to my intrigue. It's best we avoid any unfortunate incidents while you are all here. I will leave you all be, but I know a bunch of people want to ask me some questions. I don't mind a little Q&A session, myself. Don't be so nervous. Ask me something. I know there are some who are curious about me. If not, you're free to leave." The Leader put his hands together, as he let the guests of Solstice react in their own ways, but they were now aware that the Leader was watching them.

---

Rachael heard Nate, as he remarked that her name was pretty. He excused himself on being his own exploration, but Rachael noticed him stopping in his tracks. It only took Nate roughly a second, until he snapped back to Rachael with another response.

"You know what?" He said as he turned around to face an currently idle Rachael, "Why not give me a little tour of the place before people start getting here? Call it a practice run for the real thing? I'm not exactly eager to wander around for an hour by myself, I suppose."

"Well, sir, I wish I could, but I've got some things to check up on—"

He held out a couple of bills. "I'll give you twenty-five dollars."

She grinned. "Oh, well now you've got yourself a deal."

Naturally, Rachael wasn't one to be bribed, but she was still going to get paid for a tour, nevertheless. It wasn't illegal, but Rachael assumed that Nate was some random well-off foreign soldier. He wasn't from Raffia. He was offering dollars, instead of chips, which the latter was the nation's currency. Rachael went to collect the money, but Nate suddenly froze. His body went still. He stared off into space, as he went glassy eyed.

"Nate?" Rachael asked him, as he gave no response. "Nate?" Again no response.

"Nate!"

Something hit him in the face. A hand. And it kind of hurt.

"Ow, Rachael. The fu... heck was that for?" He rubbed his cheek. "That was a little uncalled for."

"I'm sorry, you just sort of went... glassy-eyed for a minute. Didn't move or speak or anything. You okay?"

Nate quickly rubbed his eyes. "I think. It's just that sometimes I..." He contemplated his answer choices for a moment. "Don't... don't worry about it. I'm fine. Are you going to get this tour started or not?" And without hesitation he passed through the open gates.

"Yes.. Yes, we're starting this tour." Rachael said, as she was unsure of what was up with Nate. The way he just went glassy eyed. Was it him reminiscing or was it shellshock?

"So, Rachael, how long have you been working here for? Doesn't seem like the worst job you could have in... a place like this." Nate asked Rachael, as she was leading him to the floral display for Solstice. "For about 4 years. It helps give me peace here, even though I could just live in a forest sector. But my position here helps me and others." Rachael answered him, as he was examining the arrangement. "And I assume that's supposed to be the flag of Main Nation Ministry. Must've taken you a long time to get that all set up, I assume." He examined the arrangement closer. "Some interesting black roses, too. I don't think I've seen those before."

"Those roses were actually donated by the Ministry of Science. They helped with maintaining a proper and suitable environment in Main Nation Ministry. You'll be surprised on how many forests and national parks this nation supports." Rachael explained, as Nate asked a question. "Well, it looks lovely." Just like you. "You know, I do know a little bit about botany. My mother liked to grow flowers and things when I was a kid... that was a long time ago, though. Oh, that makes me wonder: what got you interested in working with plants? Have you always liked it or did it just sort of... you know, come to you one day?"

"A specific question to ask. It mostly came to me, as the country was rebuilding itself after a militia conflict. I was young around that time, so my memory is hazy, but my parents volunteered for a public growing event of planting seeds. I learned that I didn't mind getting my nails dirty, unlike all of the other girls back then. Helped show me the green thumb that I had. A lot of my teachers did encourage me to start botany, since it would help the nation. Ahem, moving on." Rachael said, as she started a co-worker with her and Nate.

Rachael proceeded to take Nate to a separate greenhouse, where the display and arrangement had a more elegant feel. "We tend to call this arrangement that is set up here 'timeless'. Contains lily of the valleys, lavender, and even sweet irises. The mixture of purple and white colors was handpicked by our Leader. He does prefer that we keep this here." Rachael explained, mentioning the Leader of Main Nation Ministry.

[A m e n r i a]

The next morning

The spaces between curtians in her window now emit a soft light shining on Valeria's soft face. She turns a little, blinking her eyes and slowly waking up as she rubs the sleep off them. She yawns and takes her phone off it's charger, checking the time and notifications. Nothing really that important, just another few hundred likes or so on the Instagram post of her hotel room.

She sits up and stretches her arms in the air, yawning once again, then scratches her back. A few grunts and moans later, she landed her feet on the floor, putting her phone back down on a table on one side of the bed and walked into the bathroom.

She brushed her teeth, and afterwards, looked into the mirror. A young lady in her twenties looked back at her, with messy, long, black hair, a round face, and small, almond eyes. Nothing out of the ordinary for her.

She stretched once more and undressed, then stepped into the shower, turning on the warm water and enjoyed the feeling on her skin, closing her eyes gently and smiling. She started form the bottom - feet that led to ankles that led up to long legs, bowing as she felt the water trickle down her hair.

Breakfast

A hungry Valeria took a plate and went to the pancake makers, making a stack of three before adding berries to her plate and drizzling her pancakes with maple syrup and heading to the egg station for an omelet. On the way to her seat she noticed soldiers preparing some electronic equipment...maybe for an event later?

[Socialist Macronesia]

Nate was tempted to roll his eyes but then quickly remembered that rolling your eyes at the mention of the Leader was probably enough to get you killed (or worse) here, so he just smiled. "Well, it's not exactly like anyone's gonna tell the Leader 'no,' is it?" And then to appease the microphone that was inevitably listening in on their conversation, "I must admit, though, the Leader does have good taste. It's certainly timeless, that's for sure." He paused. "You're two questions down, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

Nate shot her a glance. "I've asked you two personal questions. Aren't you gonna return the favor?"

"I mean..."

"Come on, ask me something. I can handle it, you know." He adjusted his sunglasses. "I'll make it three for you: what do you like to do in your free time? Surely you have some other hobbies, interests, stuff like that?"

---

Ross was a little bit uneasy that the Leader was speaking to him, and maybe a little bit scared that he was being watched. He was going to apologize for calling the Leader a femboy (which didn't change the truth of the statement: Ross was still certain that he looked pretty androgynous, and definitely looked more than just a little femboy-ish) but Jacob stood up first.

"Yeah, okay, so Mr. Leader. First of all, I'd like to thank you for inviting me here, alongside all of my compatriots. But secondly, I'd like to ask you a personal question: have you ever considered the fact that everyone in this room will inevitably die within the next hundred years or so and despite our best efforts, we shall all be forgotten by humanity, no matter our actions and words, and, slightly less importantly, that there will be a day that will be the last day we see each other for the rest of our lives, and that no matter how hard we try, it'll be the last time we speak with one another and we'll just have to go our separate ways? And third, is prostitution legal here?" Sarah rolled her eyes. Sean was about to say something but stopped. Jacob looked around at the now-silent room. "Oh come on, people. If I'm gonna die, I'd rather die in the arms of a succubus than in--"

Sean punched him in the arm. "Realistic question here. Where do you recommend we go first? I'm sure you have some suggestions for us, right?"

Ross decided that apology could wait.