My Archives: July 2003

Thursday, July 31, 2003

Marena closed the large door behind her and immediately let out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t used to being terribly polite, but she did the best she could, given the circumstances. She could always blame it on nerves afterwards. She shoved her hands into her pockets and looked down, only then realizing that she still, in fact, did not have shoes. She grimaced at the grimy floor and stood on her tiptoes, as if that would help at all.

The complex was much larger than Marena had ever imagined, given that she had only seen the outside; and even then, she’d only seen that a few times. The corridors were institutional in nature, more like a fallout shelter than somewhere to live. She soon realized that the halls, all looking the same, were also very disorienting and she soon had no idea where she was in the facility. The area she was in was actually grimier than where she had been previously, so she quickly spun around and continued in the general direction in which she came.

Marena quickly happened upon two double doors she didn’t quite recognize from before. She debated going back the way she came but her feet protested otherwise. She cautiously pushed open the doors on the right and stepped in. It didn’t look like a hallway, but it didn’t really look like much, seeing as all of the lights were turned out. She fumbled around for some sort of switch but came up empty handed. She turned around and headed back for the doors she had entered from. Before she could reach them, however, a figure stepped in front of the window in the door, blocking any sort of light, then grabbed Marena by the wrist and flung her into the wall next to the doors. Thinking as quickly as she could, she pulled one katar from her side holster and, holding it in completely the wrong fashion, shoved it between her and her attacker, pointing up at said attackers chin.

“Heh,” the attacker laughed, then reached behind Marena to a small button which turned on harsh, fluorescent lighting. Marena squinted and noticed she was actually in a store room. Lovely. She looked at her weapon and quickly flipped it around, then turned her eyes back to her attacker.

“I think you meant to take the left exit, darling,” It was a man with fiery red hair and piercing green eyes; one would think he was Irish, except that he spoke with an slight Russian accent. The man took a good look at Marena and not recognizing her at all, asked, “Do I know you?”

Marena smirked. “I’m new around here.”

The man nodded in understanding but didn’t change his stance, instead leaning in closer to her. “Well, then. I’m Killswitch, as my friends call me. I help run the place; I’m in charge. Hmm.... You must be...”

“Gemini. And uninterested, but thanks!” she said cheerfully, pressing against Killswitch with her free hand to push him off of her, but it did little good; he must have been stronger than he looked. “Really, Mr. uh, ‘Killswitch,’ I’m just not in the mood.”

He smiled a bit. “Well, Ms. Gemini, how do you know that’s what I was thinking of, hm?”

Marena almost laughed. “Please. You‘re not that hard to read.” she winked. “Well...and your hand is on my ass. Just a guess, though.”

“Well...”

“Like I said, sir,” she put both of her hands against his chest and shoved as hard as she could, sending him staggering backwards. “I’m really not interested.”

Killswitch let out a “humph”, growled, and backed up more, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter that looked more like a blowtorch than anything else and lit it.

Marena pulled her weapon down to her side. “Well, good choice, because I was about to give you a nice new piercing about here,” she said, pointing to the bottom of her chin. He insisted she would have never gotten to, to which Marena politely disagreed with but dropped regardless.

“So, why are you here?” he questioned. He then offered her a cigarette, which she took even though she didn’t smoke. She always did; it made people open up more if she was smoking as well, for some reason. Ah, the things you learn about the Prague underworld.

“I was hired to kill you guys, but well, you know. Shit happens.” she drew the smoke into her mouth, held it for a moment, then blew it back out nonchalantly.

“Why are you here then?”

“Prisoner of war, I suppose.”

Killswitch thought for a moment. “They probably need you. Things are happening. They need all the help they can get,” Marena tried to interrupt, but was interrupted herself. “At any rate, why don’t you go talk to some of the others, Marena? I bet most people here would like to meet you.” he finished, eyeing her up and down.

“I bet they would.” she answered sarcastically, then paused. “However...do you think I could talk to Eve?”

Killswitch erupted in laughter. “Oh sure. Just waltz on into her room, she wont mind. It’s not like you tried to kill her or anything.”

Marena nodded. “True.” she hesitated for a moment. “Excuse me, sorry, but is there a bathroom around here? It’s been quite a while and --”

“Sure,” he interrupted, and gave directions which seemed somewhat understandable, given the labyrinth nature of this place. Marena thanked him as sincerely as she could then turned and exited, racing down the hall away from Killswitch. He was an odd fellow, and she feared staying in there too long would have resulted in something unpleasant, for either.

Marena continued back the way she came, as through the other door the hallway seemed slightly more familiar. Soon she reached a long row of rooms and upon inspecting one deduced they were the living quarters. She proceeded to knock on every door, apologizing and acting lost at each wrong door. She eventually happened upon a door towards the end of the hall that wasn’t answered quite as quickly, but Marena could hear life inside, so decided to wait. After what seemed like entirely too long the door swung open and Marena was to behold, in all her destructive and sopping wet glory, Evelina Maruska.

“Hey!” Marena said as nicely as she could.

Eve looked perplexed for a while, then came back to reality. “Um...what do you wan- who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Marena. Well, some people call me Gemini, it’s kind of my “working name,” so call me whatever you want.” she stopped to take a breath. “I was hired to kill you last night.” Eve stepped back. “Oh, nah, I don’t want to kill you anymore. Actually, your buddies hired me...strange the way the world works. Hm, you mind if I come in? I’ve been all over this place looking for you.

Eve stared at Marena like she had lobsters crawling out of her ears. “Um...sure.” she eyed her warily. “Come on in...”

Marena walked into the bleak room and sat down on the couch across from Eve. “Okay, Eve...you mind if I stop this little act?”

Eve shook her head.

“Alright, good.” Marena looked around the room, then back at Eve. She looked like a mess, which was to be expected, but Marena was pretty sure she didn’t look that bad. She at least hoped she didn’t.

“What do you want?” Eve finally said, breaking the silence.

Marena shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought I’d come say hello, since we’ll be working together and all,” she smiled.

“No you didn’t.”

“I wanted to see who I was supposed to kill? I thought you would be about seven feet tall, on par with the rumors.”

She gave a gruff, unconvincing, almost scary laugh. “Right. And no we won’t. Be working together.”

“Won’t we?”

“No, I’m leaving.” she stated bluntly, and as if to illustrate her meaning she walked over to her bed and began throwing more things into a suitcase she had placed there. As Eve looked through her shoes, she threw an old black pair of boots that were “always too small anyways.” Marena sensed opportunity.

“Can I have those?”

“Go ahead.” Eve said as Marena walked over, took the boots, then proceeded to try them on. Lo and behold, they fit. How convenient.

“So, Eve, where are you heading off to?”

“You know, nobody gets it,” Eve cut in, throwing a shirt into the air. Marena stopped talking. “None of them! That’s why I’m leaving. I HAD to kill them, you can’t just let someone kill your friend and not give them the same -- But, I mean, NONE of them out there understand. Not Golem, not Ghost, I don’t care how much they want to they can’t. It’s frustrating and I can’t take it anymore. And I don’t know where I’m going. West. I’m going to go west. Maybe London. I don’t know.” she stopped, still talking to the wall.

“Priest killed your friend?” Marena cut in, hoping not to get smacked in the process.

Eve looked back over at her. “Ah -- Yes, yes he did. She was a fucking civilian and he murdered her. A man of God.” she laughed bitterly. “Sure.”

“But...” Marena thought. “Priest didn’t really...like killing, that doesn’t sound like him.”

“Well it was! Julia followed us and he was trying to shoot me and he shot her so I had to kill him, okay?”

Marena failed to grasp her twisted logic but decided to just let it rest. There wasn’t much more she could do now. “I see.”

“You were that bastard’s friend, weren’t you?” Eve nearly yelled.

Marena stared back. “Yes. So I guess I do understand what it’s like, don’t I?”

“Well, you’re the only one.” she said. “And you don’t want me dead?”

“No,” she paused. “What good would that do?”

There was an awkward silence in which Marena fiddled with her new shoes and Evelina continued to pack. Marena had been thinking of the reason behind such a violent encounter, but Eve’s reasoning wasn’t rational and Marena got tired and bored of trying to make it so.

“So, you’re going to London?”

Eve rubbed her temples. “Sure, yeah. It sounds nice. Anything is nicer than here. I fucking hate Prague.”

“I second that.” she thought for a moment on how to approach the subject, but just forgot and went straight for it. “Can I tag along?”

Eve looked back at her as if she was mad at first, then made a face of indifference.

“I don’t --”

“C’mon, you said yourself I’m the only one that gets it, and I hate this hellhole as much as the next person. ”

“Well, you didn’t have the misfortune of being,” she paused suddenly. “Born here. At least you don‘t look it.”

“No, I guess not. This is as far as I could go on what I had.” Marena said bitterly. “But I’m here now, and I want out. I can help you as well, I have a way of getting things cheaper and easier, and who doesn’t want that?” Eve face was impassive. “Come on, I’ll even say please. Please?”

Eve was silent for a moment, in some sort of thought. Moments later she let her shoulders slump and waved her hand above her head in apathy. “Whatever.”

Marena smiled. “Excellent.”

Posted by Liz @ 09:59 PM CST [Link]

Wednesday, July 30, 2003

There was not a single conventional light on in the room, but the glow of over nine monitors, all on simultaneously, had engulfed the area in an almost blinding light. The figure’s eyes burned into the monitor ahead of him, as he continued to type away at the keypad at his lap, practically unable to see his hands in vicious luminosity of the area, though it wasn’t necessary. In his ears rang the familiar purr of computer equipment that lined the walls of the rather, confined area, various fans directed at him and the electronic paraphernalia to keep both sides from frying, and the clicking of fingers endlessly into a keyboard among many, linked up to a bundle of wires that traveled on into every direction imaginable.

Welcome ‘Unknown User’.

Dynatech Artificial Intelligence Construct [Version 5.1 2600]
Copyright 2014 – 2120 Dynatech Laboratories.

Press Any Key To Continue

C: \ VOCALS \ TEST

PLAY \ NAME_1 .VCL

The female lying upon the table, underneath a bed sheet that hid her neck and below, blinked and began to speak, addressing an unknown person, in a soft, greeting tone. Her eyes seemed to stare off into the distance, unmoving and cold.

”Hello, I am the Kay-RX11 Humanoid Android Personal Assistant Model.”

The figure let out a frustrated sigh, turning to his right and shaking his head. ”No, no, you’re not. At least, not anymore...” He turned back to the monitor, pondering for a moment. The program didn’t seem to like some of the changes he was making to it, and was persistently refusing to allow him to alter the woman’s name. Three months he’d spent on her and all seemed to be going well, but the smallest errors in his work were always the ones that peeved him the most. Right now, she was on stand-by, as he continued to alter parts of her personality, before finalizing how she’d permanently act. He felt more at ease if she went by a more casual name.

TOOLS \ EDIT \ NAME_1.VCL

He thought to himself for a moment, looking over to the girl laying on the table at his side, still staring off into space in a deathlike stare. She reminded him so much of Natalie, which was very was peculiar indeed. As much as he hated to admit it, he had always found the Nightrider remarkably cute, so with his project, he had decided to give her a few qualities reminiscent of the albino. Though not looking at him, and rather lifeless at the moment, the eyes of the girl were a brilliant magenta, a rather original color, and one that perfectly complemented her reddish-purple hair.

”Alright… Let’s see how this sounds…” Carefully taking his time, he typed in a few characters and executed a playback of what he entered. All the data he entered was received from her wirelessly, thankfully, else the entire complex’s power would have been on the fritz, or worse. And for now, this wasn’t something he wanted to bring to the attention of others, yet, anyway.

PLAY\ NAME_1.VCL

There was a whirr in the machine behind the monitor in front of him, a pause, and the silence was broken as she spoke again, a bit more melodiously, and quietly.

”Hello, my name is Kizana.”

He grinned, dropping the keyboard unceremoniously and turning in his chair to face her, stretching in place for a moment. He yawned slightly, running a hand through his hair and looking at the android in front of him, still and unmoving, the voice file having finished. He removed his goggles from over his eyes and off his head, sitting them on top of the nearest monitor, before cracking his knuckles. His fingers were tired, mainly because for the last hour, they had strained themselves as he eagerly tried to finish his work. Satisfied, and tired, having only slept six hours the previous night, he leisurely uploaded all the finalized data into the artificial being, before a message appeared on all the monitors around him, a blue window signaling success on a jet black background.

Information Transfer Complete! You May Now Exit.

He quickly shut off the entire network, killing all the monitors around him and sending the room into darkness for a split second, before a flashlight in his front vest pocket was retrieved and turned on, slicing through the darkness and searching about to his left. He directed the light onto a nearby lamp at his desk, and leaned forward to switch it on, as the noise from the computers began to wind down. “There, finished with that. I hope you aren’t too upset, but addressing yourself would have taken eight minutes every damn time…” He quickly turned around in his chair, as the disconnected Kizana awoke from stand-by mode, blinking and facing him quickly.

”That was very unnecessary, Mackenzie. You should have said please.”

”It was far from unnecessary, and besides, Kizana is a nice name. You’ll grow to love it.”

”I don’t understand what you mean by that.”

”It’s likable… It… has a nice ring to it.”

”I… Don’t think I understand that either, but I won’t bother asking. I wouldn’t want to be unpleasant or frustrating.” She looked off to the side for a moment, and slowly turned her head to face back up at the ceiling. It looked almost as if she was a hospital patient, and her movements had an uncanny fluidity to them, as she was an advanced model. Most other bots that worked in the more controlled cities, like London and most of America, were simplistic in design, and weren’t quite as configurable as this one. Not even the most expensive android sex dolls were quiet capable of what Kizana was, though they achieved realism to a great extent in rather, decidedly strange ways. As long as it took him to get this far with her, it wasn’t as if he had to work from scratch, though. The schematics, and hell, herself physically and mentally, were pretty much in the later stages of completion. But after seven years of not being maintained, she was in dire need of a few more components before she’d be fully functional.

Just what function she would serve, he’d just have to wait and see. But the android known as Kizana was going to be his ticket to recognition, and leaving this wreck of a city. In fact, she was perfectly capable of decent performance already, but the young Emmerich kid wanted her to be at the most optimum implementation possible; after all, such a state-of-the-art piece of equipment as her deserved no less. She was made to be perfect, and her design was to be nothing but flawless.

She was elusive towards her lack of realism. Her voice paused for a short time, as if thinking of something to say, though there was no real need for that. Finally, she spoke, and while the curious tone of her voice and the content of her words were enough to reveal what she was, Kizana was as close as anything could get to genuine. “I would like to know if I can stand up yet, Mackenzie. It’s beginning to become very uncomfortable just laying here.”

”In a second, Kizana, I’m sure you’ll live.” He smiled slowly, at the same moment, she did the same, and in no way did it look forced or blatantly unreal. Her lips curved into a smirk at the wit of the comment, which she had rightfully guessed as ironic. Zero was pleased to know that she wasn’t completely unaware of how the human psyche worked, as most androids of her type had a multitude of problems concerning understanding tone, sarcasm, and especially humor.

”You’re always busy with something. You are the typical engineer.” She slowly turned to face him again, her expression, while genuinely curious, peculiar, given the circumstances. Her eyes blinked again, and Mackenzie had trouble telling weather or not there was sincere, living inquisitiveness behind them. Though he knew well that it was impossible, it was hard for him to dismiss the implausible idea completely.

”You say that almost as if you’d know the typical engineer, Kizana.”

”I guess you’re not so typical. Rather short.”

He sat motionless for a moment, his brow flinching for a moment, as his eyes locked onto hers. “I just created a comedian.”

”Think of it as payback.” She said swiftly and grinned, beaming at him in an almost childish manner. She certainly was showing that, even for an artificial being, she was capable of wit, and there would definitely be no problems where interaction would be necessary. Kizana was still smiling from ear to ear, her distractingly pearly whites looking a bit too well kept, yet dismissible, as she continued to add. “And I apologize if I offended you. That wasn’t the intention… May I please sit up now?”

He frowned, no longer looking at her, but rather, feeling about the dark, junk and computer wire littered floor of the room, his fingers scouring the surface for his apparently, now missing, data pad. “Whatever makes you most comfortable, Kiz...” He let out a brief sigh, obviously a bit frustrated, as all he managed to come up with was the wrapper of an unknown food item. Still leaning out in his chair, he pulled back from the floor and raked the fingers of his hand through his hair, looking at her as she stood. “I just need to figure out how I’m going to get to the site before Vesper does, and it’s going to be hard enough getting… Onto the… Surface…”

The android Kizana stood before him, her eyes closed as she stretched and swiveled from her spot, bringing her legs off the edge of the table and down to the cool floor. She stood upright leisurely; her bangs of magenta swaying back and forth in front of her eyes, and unbeknownst to her, the navy blue blanket began to slip away. The sheet, which had previously covered her body from the shoulders and downward, was now descending quickly down the length of her body, and landed into a crumpled pile against her feet. She was completely unclothed before him, and blonde Mackenzie’s words trailed off, as he had now found himself frozen in a state of perpetual immobility. He nearly fell out of his chair, mid-gawk, and fell face first into the ground, the digital notebook breaking his fall somewhat, as he stare up at the illusory woman. She was beautiful, and yet, imperfect, carrying features and details that were unique to her; that were human.

Of course, for the entire time he had been working on her, he had avoided such observations, especially seeing as how he had not created Kizana visually anywhere other than her facial features. It took Zero awhile to pull his eyes away and examine the small peripheral notebook at his side, before bringing himself, with it as well, to a stand. He turned away, sitting it upon his desk and staring ahead, rolling his eyes and sighing. “Kizana…”

She looked around for a few long moments, not exactly paying attention to him, as she stretched about. Counterfeit interest to get moving was evident in her voice, as she brushed back an unwanted strand of hair caught in her eyelashes, and glanced over at the teenager. ”Mackenzie, I think it would be nice if I had some attire...”

”Yeah, I kind of noticed.” He said, shaking his head, a bit ill at ease. He sighed and pulled away from the desk, lifting his goggles off the nearby monitor and turning to the closet door. He pulled them over his head, just about his brow, and fought the urge not to glance over at her. He slid the closet door open, revealing a pile of unused computer equipment, clothes, and junk from around his room that couldn’t be kept elsewhere. “I’d rather you call me Zero, just like everyone else…. Otherwise, it seems kind of odd…”

’Of course; as if a nude android woman in your room isn’t odd enough, Mackenzie...’He thought to himself, letting out another exasperated sigh as he found what he was looking for, tossing the dark hooded cloak to her. Kizana caught it effortlessly and getting the general idea, began to slip into it. Sliding her arms into the sleeves and pulling it over her head, she walked over to him, frowning slightly.

”I like Mackenzie more, actually.” She watched him for a moment, before mimicking his sigh to near perfection, and smiling brightly once more. “You people and your modesty…”

”Humility is useful. And fondness… You already have preference, after being awake twice in two days?”

”I was made to.”

”Then I hope you like the cold. We’re going out.”

***

Evelina ached everywhere. She was tired, cold, sore, and her eyes stung badly, which had caused her to keep the lights dim. She would have preferred laying down a bit more, normally, but a shower was. She felt lavished under the warm spray of water, her eyes closed and accepting the cascade, her hands wrapped around her chest, almost as if holding herself tightly.

She was glad to be finished crying. Crying wasn’t something she did often, and never had it been so ungainly. She was numb, now, numb to most of what had happened, though she still shaking faintly. She felt, in a way, humiliated and defeated. She cried for too long, unable to walk without the assistance of Ghost, and only until the shower, did it cease. As if all purpose for her had suddenly vanished, disappearing into the darkness she had slowly sunken into. She could protect no one. She had failed in life. Evelina could only do one thing:

Kill.

Revenge had done nothing. In minutes, she killed fourteen people, pure, yet calculated and cold, rage. It was exceedingly easy for her, as if she didn’t have to try. But she still felt cold inside. She felt alone. The entire way back home, she hadn’t spoken a word to Ghost, or anyone. She hadn’t even looked at the survivor, who came with them. Evelina wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t care, or because she felt a sense of shame in her actions, but it didn’t matter. She felt weak, and Golem, Natalie, and the rest now saw what she truly was. Evelina Maruska was a weak woman, a lost woman who found solace and purpose in destruction. Instead of helping the people she loved, she destroyed what opposed them, and in turn, had destroyed herself inside.

While the rush of warmth and water soothed the pains and the bruises from her fall, its comfort would be only temporary. It would be just like the act of desperation and retribution had been; a mere distraction.

She couldn’t face the rest, she really didn’t want to, but she knew she would. Sooner or later, she would have to, and she feared what they thought of her. Marcus had done his best to console her, but she saw the look in his eyes. She could read eyes well, and his showed that the person before him was different from the girl he met many years ago. She had twisted into something meaningless, just like the deaths of all those that had seen the end of her gun. She was a murderer.

Her dark hair lay mopped over her sullen eyes, as her head moved down and looked over the ridge of her chest, to her throbbing feet. The pain was only deterred slightly, and Evelina had hoped the shower would do more to let her rest. Unfortunately, sleep would only be an escape as well, assuming the night terrors would be easy on her this time around.

Her brow winced, and still quaking, she brushed the hair that had been swept over her eyes away, and shut off the spell of rain. She hurriedly, and awkwardly, pulled the door to the shower open and stepped out, sharp pain searing through her ankles and droplets of water descending down her legs and pooling beneath her feet. Eve reached to the towel on the rack in the wall at her left, quickly wrapping it around her and running a hand back through her hair once more, through force of habit. Trembling and weary, she leaned back against the closet wall, staring up at the flickering, dim fluorescent light that occupied the ceiling.

The floor beneath her feet was porcelain and steel, and the concrete walls were bare, and she realized that, unlike some of the others, everything in her room was only there of necessity, and nothing more. She was one of the few with a bathroom area like this, and she had done nothing to make it at all visually appealing. It was dark, and for the first time, she realized the symbolism in it, of her.

Evelina looked ahead, and on the wall opposite of her, was the dirty, mirrored cabinet than hung over the shoddy, porcelain sink. In the mirror, was the reflection of her under the diffused light of the bathroom, looking ahead with tired, dark eyes. It took her a moment before she gained the will to drag her feet over to the sink, resting her hands on its edge and looking ahead at her pale visage, her eyes cold and her hair drenched and sprawled against her shoulders.

She slowly moved a hand from the edge of the sink and placed it against the glass, drawing it across the reflection of her face, as a rogue tear streaked down her chin from her eye.

And in the faint distance, there was a knock.

***

Posted by Jubilation Link @ 03:28 AM CST [Link]

Tuesday, July 22, 2003

"Sir, your transportation will arrive in a few moments."

Ren looked up from his sketchpad at the young Initiate who had just addressed him. The sight of the enthusiastic young solider cheered him up slightly.

"Yes, I know. I saw it going through the checkpoints." Ren replied, giving the Initiate a wan smile

"Do you need any help with your gear, sir?"

"No. You may go, Initiate Touring." said Ren, waving his hand dismissivly. The Initiate saluted, turned on his heal and strode away, soon disappearing into the entrance to the administrative headquarters.

Ren put down his pad, stood up from the equipment chest he had been sitting on and craned his neck at the checkpoint a quarter mile up the road to the headquarters. After a few seconds looking, he spotted the black van he had been watching for the past 15 minutes pull up to the guardhouse. Satisfied, Ren sat back down and picked up his sketchpad.

White Tide had a long history of encouraging its elite soldiers to peruse the arts. Originally it had been merely for its stress reliving qualities. Now, with the rest of the world gone to hell in a handbasket, being an artistic wellspring was an important (and profitable) business. However, it was also true that traditional materials were prohibitively expensive. Ren’s sketchpad was a byproduct tradition meeting realty. About quarter inch deep, it sported a roughly 8 by 10 inch screen cleverly designed to look and feel like paper. An included stylus allowed the user to write on the pad in a near perfect emulation of pencil on paper, and the internal memory stored and recalled up to 7000 pages of writing or drawing with the touch of a button.

The pad’s monitor had shut down to conserve power, so Ren thumbed the wake-up button. Examining the half-finished pencil sketch of a nearby building that appeared, he decided he had enough time to do an outline of the rest of the building. Using the pencil stylus, he managed to finish up with time to spare. Ren slipped the stylus into the pad and the pad into the chest and stood up.

The van pulled to a clean stop at the curb a few feet away from where Ren was standing. The driver stepped out, giving Ren his first good look at the man. and Comparing the skinny Asian looking man him against the descriptions in the intelligence reports, Ren decided he was looking at the Nightrider called Vesper. Ren opened his mouth to speak, but Vesper beat him to it.

"So, you’re the bloke I’ve been sent to kill." he said, grinning evilly

Ren, taken off guard, blinked at this, then jumped backwards, reaching for his pistol. He stopped, hand on gun, when Vesper began laughing and held up his hands in the traditional gesture of "don’t shoot."

"Heh, only screwing around with you. I’m actually here to pick you up, like we promised. Anyway, you’re Muhammad Tulhaba, right? Or… wait… don’t you go by your middle name? Ren, isn’t it?" Vesper said this all rather fast. Ren simply nodded "Oh, good. I’m Vesper. Nice meeting you."

Ren scowled, and Vesper started to laugh again. Abruptly, Ren began to laugh as well.

"Funny man." Ren said a moment later, shaking his head disbelievingly and still chuckling. "I should really throw you off a bridge. Anyway, if you would help me load my equipment into the van, we can leave."

Vesper nodded, and moved to pick up an end of the long metal chest that Ren had been sitting on. With difficulty, the two men managed to get the burdensome chest into the back of the van.

"What the hell do you have in there? Bricks?" panted Vesper.

"My main and backup sniper rifles, an assault rifle, my combat armor, repair gear, and about 100 pounds of ammo. Oh, and some personal effects" said Ren

"100 pounds!?" said Vesper, straitening up and giving Ren a hard look. "Jesus on a stick, we won’t have you shooting THAT much!"

"It’s mostly specialty stuff that I can’t get outside a Tide base, like monopoint AP rounds or DeadHeads. Remember, this IS a five-year contract. Anyway, shouldn’t we be going?"

Ren walked to the front of the van, opened the door, and got in. Vesper leaned back against the van again and sighed.

"Christ, 100 pounds? AP rounds? What does he think we are, some kind of super-squad?" Vesper muttered. He shook his head, then stood up with a slight groan and walked to the driver’s door. He looked at Ren and grinned again.

"Say, do you want to find out if I can jump the van?"

Vesper laughed at Ren’s alarmed look, jumped in, and began to the long drive south.

__

"Look, why can’t you just tell me where it is?"

"I already told you, it’s a secret."

Sighing, Ren leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He had been trying, unsuccessfully, to find out the location of the Nightrider’s base for nearly a quarter of an hour. He was a bit perplexed about the whole matter. Prague was an important enough area that White Tide had collected basic intelligence data on the major gangs and factions in the area. The reports indicated that the Nightriders operated out of some sort of base, but made no mention of where it might be. This omission had bothered Ren the first time he had noticed it, and Vesper’s refusal to give him the location had made him curious. There was something fishy about this…

Sudden, screeching deceleration pulled him out of the half sleep he had fallen into. He immediately sighted the reason for the stop, and stepped out at the same time as Vesper.

A light rain had begun falling a bit after they had crossed the Elbe river, and had since evolved into a dirty, pounding rain. Through the curtain of rain, Ren could make out several overturned cars and large pieces of junk laying across the entire stretch of pavement forming what was obviously a roadblock across the entire stretch of pavement. Ren began scanning the area for activity. To his left, Vesper was squatting near the roadblock, muttering to himself.

"…wasn’t here this morning. How could…"

"Vesper." Ren said loudly, making sure he was heard. Vesper stopped muttering and looked up at Ren. "There are about fifteen people on bikes coming down the road. We’ve got about 60 seconds before they get here. Infrared implants," said Ren, answering the question Vesper had been about to ask.

"Oh… Bikes… Shit, it must be Bella’s gang! Look, get your sniper rifle and hide in that building!" yelled Vesper, pointing. "Make sure it’s silenced!"

Not hesitating, Ren sprinted to the back of the van and wrenched the door open. He spied his equipment chest, slammed down on the second emergency deploy button, grabbed his secondary, silenced, rifle as it were ejected, and dashed towards the broken looking building at the side of the road.

"Comm band is 420.2!" Vesper yelled after him. Ren raised his hand as he ran, indicating that he had heard

The door of the dilapidated building was sagging half off its hinges, and simply fell over when Ren kicked it in. He sprinted through the front room (startling the pigeons roosting on the eves), found the stairs and raced upstairs. Ren ended up in a second story bedroom with a large, broken paned bay window facing the street. He threw himself onto the ledge under the window, simultaneously queuing his comm implant to the band Vesper had told him. Instantly, a voice started whispering in his ear

"Ren. Ren. Please respond. I know you’ve got a comm implant. Please…" came Vesper’s voice

"I’m here," subvocalized Ren, interuping vesper in the middle of "respond."

"Thank God. Make sure you have a view of me and my surroundings. Now, Bella’s group is a superstitious lot. Shoot on my signal, you’ll know it." said vesper, sounding relived. "Shit, here they come. Don’t talk to me. I’ll leave my implant on open."

Ren switched on his infrared. Vesper was standing about 15 feet behind the van, a clearly defined patch of color against the cold background. A few seconds later, the gang drove up, pulling into a semi-circle around Vesper. From their postures, they were obviously pointing guns at the man. Ren could hear the growling of the bike and jeers of the riders through the open comm channel. Ren heard Vesper subvocalize a quiet "get ready." Ren swung his rifle’s scope up to his eye, keeping watch on the scene. Vesper had his hands up in the air now, and had begun speaking.

"What are you doing here?" he said, sounding defiant.

One of the riders got of their bikes and walked up to Vesper. The two stood face to face for a moment, then the gang member shoved Vesper full in the chest, knocking him backwards to the pavement. Ren aimed for the head.

"Yer on our turf, you little shit," came a deep woman’s voice. Ren realized, belatedly, that it must be Bella he was aiming at.

"Th-Thi-PUH" sputtered Vesper, who appeared to have taken a mouthful of dirt. "This is neutral ground!" He grunted as Bella kicked him.

"Not no more it ain’t. This is our new turf, and yer trespassing."

Vesper stood up and made motions as if brushing himself off. Ren couldn’t make out Bella’s face, but he couldn’t imagine she was too happy.

"You are a greedy woman. Greed is a sin, you know that?" said Vesper, in a baiting sort of tone

[I]What the hell are you up to, old man?[/I]

"Wh-what ya talking about, sh-shit face?" Ren was surprised to hear Bella’s voice was somewhat unsteady.

"I am a man of God," here Vesper leveled a pointed finder at Bella," and I can tell you, God punishes those who sin!"

"I.. You ain’t no…"

Ren pulled the trigger. At the exact same second, a bolt of lightning struck a nearby water tower. The rest of the gang stoop dumbfounded as Bella’s headless body slumped to the ground. To them, it must have seemed like her head had exploded in a blaze of lightning. One of them screamed, and the rest started babbling hysterically or screaming their heads off. Two ran down the empty street, one screaming "Jesus did it! Jesus did it!" Vesper began saying the last rights loudly, further adding to the pandemonium. Finally, he stopped, and looked around at the terrified looking people surrounding him. An eerie silence fell.

"Are there any more disbeliveers here?" A regular storm of "no" and "praise the lord" broke out. "Good. you three, bury the body. The rest of you, remove this roadblock."

Ren tried to keep himself from laughing out loud as he watched the gang scurry like whipped dogs as Vesper ordered them about.

"Ren. get down the block so I can pick you up without them seeing." said Vesper, who was now starting the engine."

"Alright. By the way, didn’t you say you were Buddhist?" said Ren, allowing a chuckle

"Well, aren’t we all Christians at heart?"

"Funny. Real funny."

Posted by Haystack @ 11:57 PM CST [Link]

A soft sigh was given, along with a muttered apology and goodbye, and the phone was placed back on the hook. Weapons were once again drawn. She tried to concentrate.

The smooth blades of two Daisho katanas sliced through the air as cliché as they always did and landed, tips perfectly placed on the smooth wooden floor below.

Ready.

They stayed motionless there for quite some time as a smooth, yet uneasy silence hung in the air.

Aim.

The perfectly placed tips then began to press painfully hard into the lacquered wood, causing it to splinter and fracture.

Fire.

Then all of a sudden, the blades and whipped out and around, effectively cutting off the head of a wooden practice doll.

Alixandria Kinoshina was annoyed.

She angrily kicked the head across the room and continued to hack and slash at the wooden doll, though her movements made it look more dance-like, albeit dangerous. She spun her body around and completed a move which seemed more like gymnastics than martial arts. Regardless, they helped her flexibility and dexterity; furthermore, they helped her relax. And she definitely needed to relax.

Goddamn it, I cannot believe it.” she thought angrily. And it ruined my concentration, I’m not going to get anything done now. She stopped abruptly, and began to put the katanas back but instead kept them out, staring at one of the blades. They were beautiful weapons, they really were. Four feet in length each but surprisingly maneuverable, she was more than expert in them, and she’d had plenty “experience” with them, whether she liked it or...

“Hello, Alix.”

Alix clenched her teeth. Now, she wasn’t in the mood to really see anyone, but she certainly wasn’t in the mood to see him. She gripped one of the sword hilts tighter, paused, then turned around, throwing the katana blade first into the wall beside the door said person had just entered from. “Hello, Vincent.” she choked out behind her rage.

“Are we angry, Alix? That’s no way to start off the new day.” he teased.

“It’s one am.” she replied angrily.

“It’s a new day all the same.” he smiled. “But that’s not the reason I’m down here. I heard that the Furious Angels have made away with the girl AND the cannon? Now, if I recall -- correct me if I’m wrong -- isn’t that YOUR department?” he added irately, yet wickedly, smirking and walking over towards her.

“Yes, I heard, so I’m not completely sure why you’re here.” she paused. “And I don’t want to hear it, it was as much your responsibility as mine.” she replied. “ So fuck you.” she added, glaring daggers at him as he came a little too close for her sanity level. She twisted the remaining katana around in her hand.

“Oh really...” he said, mock delighted, running a hand up her stomach, snapping her tight training top against it. “Well, I just might have to take you up on that offer.”

Alix’s blood began to boil. “You’re pretty brave, Vincent. If you were anyone else, I would have done something exceedingly violent the minute you walked in the door.”

Vincent placed his other hand on her hip. “See, you really do like me.” he replied, sickeningly sarcastic.

“Yeah, of course.” she smiled, and hesitated. Suddenly, she slid the katana back in her hand sufficiently far for her to jam the end of the blade into his side, clean through and out again, enough to hurt and bleed but not enough to cause any prolonged damage. “So that’s why I waited until now. Generous, no?”

He was speechless from shock, then let out a roar. “Jesus Christ, Alix!” he sputtered, grasping the bleeding wound at his side. Alix’s hands were covered in blood as well, so she grabbed for his thousand dollar suit collar and wiped her hands on it, then reached back onto the small desk to grab a towel to throw at him.

“Clean that shit up, I don’t want it on my floor,” she commanded as he held the towel to his side, breathing shallowly. She watched him, then directed him to a chair. “Sit down and listen, or I’ll cut you up even more.”

Vincent was stunned. “Alix...God, have you gone completely insane this time?”

“YES, Vincent, I have. Do you realize what’s happened? Do you even comprehend the severity of the situation. The girl is gone. The Angels TOOK her, and they took an extremely powerful weapon in which to protect her with. Which I have to retrieve or Eric will shoot a bullet into my skull, as well as yours. I‘m glad I‘m not you Vincent, because you have to worry about myself as well as Eric; pissing me off isn‘t the best plan of action here.”

“Noted,” he said, the bleeding subsiding. “But...actually, we have to go get her. Orders from the top.”

“Orders from the top! Are you kidding me? What the hell are you going to do, you little prick, have a friendly debate with them? Pass a law? God, I am this close to cutting off your fucking head right here and now to save me the time and stop delaying the inevitable.” she growled, pacing the floor. “I need something to break,”

Vincent shrunk back into his seat and let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, like it or not, you’re stuck with me for this mission. I’ll try not to piss you off if you promise to stop slicing me up. I’ve got enough scars from just you to last me a lifetime. I‘m surprised I‘m not dead from...trauma or something.” he flinched as he removed the towel to inspect the damage.

“Well, you’re luckier than most.” Alix said.

Vincent sat and stared at the floor for a while, again pressing the towel again the cut, then continued on with the conversation. “So, how do you plan on doing this? How are we gonna get the kid and the cannon back?”

“Well, as violently as possible, of course. It’s my specialty.” she smiled, running her finger up and down the blade of the katana, in thought. “Well, I know that YOU’RE going to be sitting in the helicopter because I trust you as far as I- well, as far as most people can throw you. I’ll go down with the Marines, they’ll handle the rest of the Angels and I’ll go after the head honcho...Dominatrix or something. At any rate, I assume the leader has the kid and the cannon, so it’ll be like two birds with one stone.”

Vincent had a vacant look on his face. “You don’t trust me? What do you not trust me to do?” he angrily spat.

“Vincent,” she said completely frustrated, “You’re not a fighter. You’re Eric’s lapdog. You sit around and do his “important paperwork” -- which really is a bunch of bullshit busywork to keep you out of the way -- while I go out and do all of his dirty work. You’re nothing but his little errand boy lawyer to keep the people doing the real work out of trouble.” she said. “I don’t know why he’s making you go and frankly I don’t care, I just don’t want you in my way or you might not make it out alive -- courtesy of myself.”

“Well, how do you expect to get the cannon away from her?” Vincent interjected, changing subjects.

“I expect her to not be able to use it.”

“You underestimate.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to think.” she snapped.

“Well, fine,” he muttered, seemingly defeated. He thought for a moment, then spoke up again. “No, it’s not fine. I think you do need someone to think for you. You need someone to tell you it’s probably not a good idea to go in there guns blazing because I bet you that their leader is fully capable of learning that cannon very, very quickly, so I suggest you go about this a bit more covertly. That is, unless you want a giant hole in your abdomen.” he finished, at first staring at her, then averting his eyes to the side, sighing and pressing the cloth into his side. The bleeding seemed like it had begun once again.

Alix might as well had fire coming off the sides of her face as she threw her katanas down on the table and drew a switchblade as she lunged at Vincent, pinning him to the chair with one arm and holding the blade against his throat with the other.

“Listen here. I don’t need advice from little kiss-ass shits like you on how to run my business, hm? Who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and pretending like you have any idea what’s going on? Well, just to quell any misunderstanding, you don’t. You don’t even know what you’re fighting for! Just some girl Eric wants, right? You haven’t the vaguest conception of what power was stolen from us tonight.” she paused. “So I expect not to hear another word from you this entire time or I’ll cut you up in little pieces and feed you to the homeless, is that understood?”

Vincent growled angrily and tried to push her off, and when that failed, spit at her feet. Alix got a criminal look on her face and slapped him audibly hard before retreating and leaving the room. Vincent let out a sigh of relief and the towel dropped from his fingers and fell on the finely lacquered floors, the nearly silent tapping of the blood from his newly reopened wound almost soothing, all things considered.

Posted by Liz @ 01:08 AM CST [Link]

Monday, July 21, 2003

She was dying inside

Or was it that she wanted to? Either way, Kaori had to face what she caused. Though this task wasn't easy, one such as her is easily intimidated by someone so large, him being the leader of the gang she had gotten caught up in didn't help either. Thoughts ran through her mind, faster then the dark that swept over everything. Would he throw her out to die for what she's done? Would she be left on the street, to get attacked by whatever may be out there. For someone who acted so calm and strong Kaori was weak, like a dove in the jaws of a cat.

"I-I.. .Did... This... I think... I... Did. This." She said, softly and quietly. She was ashamed and confused. Feelings that she wasn't use to.

"No, I know I did this..." She spoke again, before Golem could reply.

"Well, how did you do it? What happened." He asked politely.

"I don't know. I have no idea...It just happened." She spoke on the verge of tears once again.

"It's okay, just tell me what you did before it happened. What was your movement?" He asked, intrigued.

"I got a bit...Angry, then I threw my fist down and the ground came up." She continued to look down, looking down like she had weights on her head.

"I see, perhaps your anger is what triggered it, and throwing your fist unleashed....Whatever it was. Who angered you, were you training with someone else?" He asked questionably, concerned if any other may have been hurt.

"Oh no! Yes, I was fighting someone...The ground lifting up made him fly into the back wall, he may still be there." She spoke sadly, knowing she may have killed someone, which was something she wasn't prepared for.

Golem nodded and was about to get up when Ghost walked into the room, her face a bit surprised by the scene. Ghost walked in, watching her step and looking around the room. She looked to Golem, who looked back to her. "What happened here?" She asked, scanning the room. "It seems that she may have let out something...Powerful, which caused the room to turn into...This." Golem said in a calm way. "I see, well-" Ghost was cut off as she looked to the back of the room where a man laid, obviously in a bad condition. Ghost quickly ran over to the man and kneeled down to check on him, Golem followed. Ghost sighed a little and got back up, looking to Kaori. "What have you done? You could have killed him. He barely alive now." Ghost said a bit forcefully. Kaori started to cry once more and looked up, something that was hard for her to do now. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" Before Ghost could reply Kaori forced herself up and scampered out of the room, leaving the two other behind with a man half living and a gym that's seen better days.

***

Kaori ran to her room, upset with herself more then anything. Ghost's comment really didn't help her, so Kaori had to get away from them. She didn't know what she was to do. She didn't want the entire gang beating her up over this, giving her remarks like Ghost's. Maybe she should leave? Pack her bags and just leave, they would probably kick her out because of this anyway, so why not save them the trouble?

She ran to her closet and pulled out her clothes, what little clothing she had. She had managed to save a suitcase from when she traveled with her parents, so she had that on her side. She threw her clothes in it, without folding them, or organizing them neatly. She had to leave before anyone came to check on her, as if they would.

She slammed the suitcase's cover down and quickly zipped it closed, she began to lift it up but dropped it and ran for the bathroom. What little she did eat that day was no longer with her, instead it graced the toilet. She wasn't surprised, she always threw up when she felt like this. She cried, like she usually did. She was so weak, or she thought so. They group would be better off without her, only the strong survive, she believe. She didn't believe she was strong. So she wouldn't survive.

She lifted the suitcase once more and hauled it with her. She put her coat on and opened her door, looking out first to make sure no one was coming. The hall seemed clear, which was odd, there was usually always someone walking around, perhaps everyone was at the gym. Either way she stepped out and quickly walked down the hallway. She had pretty much memorized where everything was by now, so she could easily get to the door and out.

She took all the needed turns and finally reached the way out, she looked back toward the halls, letting more tears fall. She didn't want to leave, but it was for the best. She looked back to the way out and left, before the door closed on her Golem ran down the hall and saw her leave, he gave a surprised look. Kaori looked to him, her face wet with tears and her face low and sad. The door closed.

Kaori stood into the darkness, fear taking her over. She walked at first, then ran, if they would come after her, though she didn't think they would, she would need to make a good distance between them. So she ran into the darkness, without anywhere to go, without anyone to protect her. Maybe something would kill her, she could dream.

Posted by Transient @ 05:40 PM CST [Link]

Sunday, July 20, 2003

Marcus Fisher was a towering, and obviously, intimidating individual, at a height of just barely over seven feet. He had always been seen that way, especially at first glance. He was a perfectly fit, exceedingly large, and implausibly powerful figure of authority; be it physically or mentally. And because of this, Marcus assumed, the stranger who stood beside Ghost, eyeing him carefully and giving off the impression of slight (if not complete) fear, was didn’t feel any different than the rest. Be it intimidation, or just an awkward moment, the four people who occupied the lift area, were completely silent.

The lift was located at the top of a staircase in a three level room of the underground Chatrani complex. It was empty, except for the four, and the air was stagnant. It smelt, in the most describable way possible, like machinery, or perhaps it was just air from the surface that had seeped down through the minuscule space between the walls of the elevator shaft. It was also extremely cold, as this area wasn’t heated at all, so it only made things worse. The stranger in front of him was suffering from it and the unease of the situation very badly. Quaking from goose bumps and trying her hardest (as apparent as it was) to be quiet and as unmoving as she could, she let out a nearly inaudible sigh when his eyes moved away from hers.

Ghost stood perfectly still and impassive, a cold glare looking back at his own, as she had Evelina’s arm around her neck and held by her own, another wrapped around the dark haired woman’s waist, as she sobbed quietly into the vanilla coat of her friend. Evelina was an obvious wreck: her outfit a dirty, slightly torn, and slumping mess. Her jacket was shifted down her shoulder, the shirt beneath it folded and in need of immediate laundry, and her pants covered in dirt gained from sliding against the sides of her bike. Marcus looked her over for a minute, cursing himself in his head, and he glanced back at Ghost. He motioned his head a bit to his side, away from his shoulder, and the pale woman immediately responded by lifting the slumping girl a bit more and carrying her past his side and down the stairs. That left Marena in the company of the giant alone, and she didn’t take to that very well.

In an effort to somehow ease the eeriness of the state of affairs, he spoke calmly and quietly, extending a hand. “Marcus. And you are?”

It didn’t seem to work well, at least, immediately. She flinched, as if unsure how to act, before reaching out and shaking the waiting palm. “…Marena. My name is Marena Acanthe… Excuse me for asking, but…” Marena paused, her eyes glancing about, the location not exactly seeming luxurious, and she bit her lip lightly. “Where are we?”

”You know where we are. You’ll see it soon enough.” Letting go of her hand, he looked her over a bit more, his deep voice somehow causing her to tremble about as he spoke. It wasn’t readily noticeable, but he was doing his best to read her, at the moment. “You don’t look like one of Priest’s. You’re a hired hand.”

”…That’s right. I was hired to…”

”Do you have any weapons on you?” He cut in when she trailed off, still scanning her and the reactions she made.

”…Yeah, yeah, right here, I just-" She began to reach at her sides and he raised a hand to stop her, shaking his head.

”I know.” He smirked slightly, despite himself, and turned around, looking at her over his shoulder, intently. “Welcome to the Chatrani. You can call me the Golem.” He began to make his way down the staircase that moved down the three floors along the four walls of the room, no longer looking at her. A few moments later, Marena followed, looking about, as they trailed a good ways behind Ghost and Evelina. As they made their way to the bottom, he stopped along the edge of the stairs, looking over at a pair of double doors, before glancing back at Marena.

”I’m going to hire you. If you try anything, I’m going to kill you. But you already know that.”

She was smart enough to understand she didn’t have to acknowledge that, as she knew it instinctively. Instead, she nodded in compliance, and almost relief, before heading to the doors. “Gemini, you can call me Gemini, then.” She stood still for a moment, a hand rested on the metal, horizontal bar of the door, before pushing her way into a better lit area; the main hall of the complex, and the door slowly slid closed afterwards. Golem watched it for a second or two, before directing his attention toward the other women in a dark space against the wall furthest from the door and under a staircase.

Evelina was in the corner, utterly silent, but crying, an unending stream of tears sliding down her cheeks as Marcus witnessed weakness in her for the first time. Her hands were locked over her head, through the strands of her hair, knees brought up closely to her chest. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but he hated seeing her in this state; and more so, he hated why. He wasn’t about to question her about what happened out there, and he moved in close before crouching, resting a hand on her Eve’s shoulder comfortingly and leaning in close. Ghost was a foot or so at her side, standing, arms folded, and watching her friend with eyes of grief equal to that of Evelina. Her woe was from watching the girl in this broken state, and though only her eyes showed it, they usually spoke more and better than any of her words could.

Golem searched for Evelina’s eyes under a guise of tears and ebony hair. “We’re here, Evelina… We’re all here. I’m sorry.” It took a few moments for a response, but surely enough, Evelina lifted her eyes enough to acknowledge his words, before staring back down and continuing her noiseless plight of tears. His arms slowly wrapped around her in a tight enfold, and Evelina’s crying became intensely audible, sinking her head into his shoulder as he did his best to soothe her. She said nothing, and did nothing but shed tears, and he let her for a few moments, before raising his eyes to meet his other, fellow Nightrider.

Natalie was a strange woman, with a strange, but close affection for her beloved friend, and while she was seemingly motionless, her eyes were pained greatly at the sight, and she understood what he wanted. Crouching at Evelina’s side, as Marcus pulled away slowly, she held her friend tight, coming to her feet and lifting Eve with her, before slowly walking her en route to her sleeping quarters. Evelina would need rest, and to be alone.

As intimidating as Marcus was, there were moments when it did not make the difference. He found himself unable to think of a better way to help her when she needed help most. Or perhaps, she just needed to be alone.

Standing, the brutish man began to show his own weakness; ineptitude when it came to handling this situation. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and resting a hand against his forehead, angered at himself for not going out after her tonight, angered for not knowing soon enough. But he was even more angered for not being able to help Julia that evening three days ago.

He wouldn’t let anything like that ever happen again. He wouldn’t let them lose anyone again. But now he was unsure if it was already too late save Evelina.

* * *

”Fourteen…”

”She did it inside the cathedral?”

”Priest outside.”

”Shit…. You talked to her?”

”Marena…?”

”Yeah, miss bounty hunter.”

”Yes. Evelina didn’t want to talk.”

”Look, I told you to keep a watchful eye on her. As I did, I mean, if we had both-“

Those blue eyes were numinous. They weren’t read, but everything they said spoke the truth. He had never seen Natalie without her icy contacts, and she was the type of person that you could only understand by expression and expression alone. They only made it incredibly difficult to tell if what you saw was truly what was meant, making her an emotional, perplexing enigma of a woman.

Her glare alone cut him off.

”You know as well as I do that neither of us would have stopped her.”

He was silent, and tired, so he didn’t argue. What she said was true. Had either of them had the opportunity to stop Evelina, they would have opted not to. It was just something he knew, rather than had a reason for.

”Yeah.”

They were in the north wing of the Chatrani, and it was early morning, and Golem was perpetually exhausted, having not slept in over a day. This matter hadn’t been the only problem of his as of late, and he could only hope for a break. They strolled down the long, open passage that lead to a large number of the more public facilities, rather than personal areas. The cafeteria was beyond the wall at their left, the entrance having been passed a good distance back, and the gymnasium, library, and other sections were ahead, interlocking rooms at the end. Natalie Stanford, paused, shaking her head and closing her eyes for a few long moments. Marcus also stopped in mid-stride, watching her and patiently waiting.

”I’m going to get something to eat. And watch her, and bring her food as well. Find Killswitch if you must, but she won’t take kindly to him bothering her.” She said, opening her eyes after a moment, and quickly turning away, fixing the ends of her cream shirt as she headed off.

”Rest.” She said, leaving into the opposite direction. The thought she left him with was a nice one, as rest sure sounded like a hell of a good idea. Her heels clacked in the hallway as she dashed away, and he nodded. Marcus understood what she meant by bringing him up, very well indeed. Killswitch was one of the older ones of the group, and ‘ranked’ (a term he refused to really use) higher than the rest of the Nightriders. He was a decent guy, but Evelina always seemed to have a problem with him. Chances are, he was asleep or on his ass lounging about somewhere anyway, at the moment, so it didn’t really matter.

He stopped suddenly, as he neared the end of the long passageway, and peered down at the ground. He knew his surroundings pretty well, and the deep crack in the stone floor at that ended at his side, originating from all the way beyond the door of the gymnasium, wasn’t something that had been there before. The tear in the earth was obviously very recent, and he looked back for Natalie, who had disappeared too quickly for him to question her as if she saw or heard anything. There was a light at the corner of the end of the hall that shone just fine, but beyond the closed doors of the gym, through the glass panels that showed the inside, the radiance of light inside was erratic.

Marcus gave out a deep and rugged sigh, dashing forward to see just what the hell would cause the electricity in there to flicker about. He was a pretty fast runner, physically fit as he was and all, and the gym was an area he visited frequently, and had originally put together himself. And as he burst into the door ahead of him, tired eyes scanning the environment, his fists clenched, and then loosened, as he began looking around, completely mystified.

It's a fucking warzone...

The lights were flickering because the pairings of them overhead had almost all been completely crushed by the floor. The ground of the gymnasium and risen upward, almost in a perfect, straight alignment, into the ceiling. Whatever did it, must have did the act fast, as the stone pillars had pierced the ceiling and caused a layer of it to come crushing down on the left side of the gymnasium, large sections of rock and concrete having laid waste to the workout equipment below. The entire room was still clouded by dust that had yet to settle from the continuously crumbling rocks from above, and the sparking electrical wires than hung down, the severed ends of the protruding cables popping in a haze of sparks that rained down on the rocks and torn floor below.

Marcus walked inside quickly, shielding his eyes from the fog of pungent dust that blocked him from seeing anything past the first few feet of wreckage. The large, cerulean mat that had once been used for training had shredded into ruptured pile of foam that split where the rocks protruded, now entangled in the mess of iron from the various exercise utilities. “Is anyone here? Christ… What the hell happened…?” He shouted into seemingly nothingness, his blaring and deep voice drowning out seconds later.

And there was a noise, a kind of shifting sound against the ground and a persons voice soon after. Amidst the shroud of smoke and debris, someone had been in here when this had occurred. Golem disregarded his eyes, and suddenly began moving forward, stepping past broken gravel and steel to reach what could only be a faint grunt of pain that would occasionally ring out in the distance. The gymnasium was huge, and now it was incredibly dark and tough to traverse. The noise came closer and closer, until suddenly he stumbled upon it, reaching ahead and looking through the blanket of swirling dust.

He reached out and his hands found the shoulders of a girl, who suddenly shot out of the guise of murkiness. Her eyes met his, and in them he saw what could only be total fear. And he was right, as immediately she backed away, kicking, tears streaming down her face as her back hit the wall and a hanging electrical wire continued to spark intermittently. He wasn’t sure if it was the reflection of the light, but her eyes were a deep, glimmering emerald that seemed to slowly die out and fade into azure. She stood still after a moment, and Marcus had absolutely no idea how to react.

She was a young, Chinese girl, just about the same height as the woman Gemini, from earlier. Her hair was tied back, and she had an outfit that suggestion she had been in here, working out. She looked slightly bruised, dirty, and extremely afraid. For a moment, he saw Evelina. The young girl quickly sought solace against his chest, the man who had found her, unsure of what had just happened. She was going on about it, and Marcus just stood there holding her, staring off back into the colossal devastation that had been executed on the room. She sobbed in hiccups, jolting about as she tried to find words, and he quickly began to console her, fearful of her condition after seeing the aftermath of whatever it was

”…Tell me, tell me what happened here. No, no, it’s… It’s okay… It’s….”

”I didn’t mean to, God, I didn’t mean to, please… Please believe me…”

”Didn’t mean to what? Tell me what happened- Tell. Me.”

He pulled back a bit to get a look at her eyes, and he watched her closely. She stopped crying; silence overcame her, and any sense of intimidation began to fade as she slowly recollected her thoughts and tried to find words. He continued to hold her closely, and though it only took a few moments, it seemed like an eternity before she could realize what she was to say. Swallowing hard and wiping her eyes quickly with one hand, she shakily leaned back in, on the verge of crying once more. Her voice seemed so small, but what came from it, was exceedingly intriguing, and cryptic to him.

”I-I…I…Did…This… I think… I… Did. This…”

* * *

“The king is dead! The king is dead! Long live the king!” Vesper quickly swung out of his seat, raising his arms, and aptly bowing in front of the young man. The small, wooden table, already being supported by a break pedal and an old, coverless novel, shook at the sudden movement. The chess board slid, causing some of its wooden pieces to careen off the edge, clacking against the rough concrete floor. But it didn’t matter, as it was readily apparent who won.

The Chinese-American man pranced about, going on about an unknown audience in his crazed mind cheering him through his victory, and all the while, sat Mackenzie Emmerich, watching him blankly from the seat opposite of his opponent. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair, and gradually sighed. It was like this every time he lost, and he lost every time.

Chess was not his game, and such an anomaly confused him greatly. At the age of fifteen, Mackenzie had only known this area, Prague and the Chatrani, and was accustomed to all the people who lived there. Though a virtual outcast amongst the rest besides a few of the Nightriders, he was regarded as one the most intelligent of the people there. He was an exceptional child, to say the least, and nothing less had been expected from him, as that’s what Emmerich’s were known for: being exceptional.

In spite of this, it was fairly annoying to have everyone expect such great things because of his intellect every waking moment of his life, and ignore him where he truly wanted credibility. He was seen as perfect, and at the same time, ignored for everything beyond his I.Q. And it seemed as if everyone was quick to find faults in things he did, which only made him feel worse, at times. Not many people associated themselves with him, for one reason or another. He wasn’t necessarily eccentric, but others couldn’t relate to him all that well. It was as if his intelligence was only novel because of his age, and at the age of fifteen, it was wearing thin, and he was being left alone.

Well, Vesper was different and he could relate to the man, to an extent. Despite the fact that he always seemed to take the opportunity to exploit Mackenzie’s mental aptitude every now and then, he was a cool guy, and often times it was for his benefit. Mackenzie, over time, had grown to learn a great deal from him, and knowledge, to him, was much appreciated. But he didn’t always find himself to be pleased by it; such was the case this evening. Vesper had, once again, asked Mack to play him a game that he found excruciatingly hard to understand. Chess, a simple test of strategy and calculation that should have been easy to grasp, and while for the most part, he understood it, he wasn’t exactly good at it.

”Can’t… You just, like, say checkmate? Normal people say checkmate, Vesper. At least, that’s what I gather.” He raised an eyebrow, almost leering at the man, but there was no end to the triumphant tone in his voice.

”Nope! Where’s the fun in that? Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser now, Zero.” He lively paced about, his eyes gleaming at Mackenzie and a grin on his face from ear to ear, as he continued to rub in the pathetically quick and merciless victory. He winced at the use of his nickname, Zero, which was beginning to become another source of irritation for Mackenzie. He wasn’t sure how he had gained it, but over time, that had been what he was called, and he didn’t particularly enjoy it.

He always assumed he obtained it because Marcus once stated that Mackenzie must have thought only in code, and that all that went on in his mind was ones and zeros. Granted, as preposterous as an ideas it may have been, the moment Zero got his hands on a computer, he could do whatever he pleased. It was as if hacking was recreational for him, at times; a sort of pastime. Because of this, even though he still couldn’t win a single match at chess, the others had fun with the name, and it stuck.

Whatever the case though, and whatever Vesper was getting ready to preach, it was beginning to grate his nerves. ”I’m far from a sore loser, Vesper. It’s just not my thing, so… You can quit making a big deal out of it.” He casually stood up from his chair, stretching and stubbornly looking off to the side.

”Don’t take any offense; it just goes to show, book-smarts don’t hold a candle to skill and wisdom gained from over time. At least, not against this mechanic, but I know how much of a sore loser you can be.” He chuckled lightly and looked around; finished with the game and ready to attend to whatever he had been up to before the young teen stopped by. Zero hadn’t taken it personally, even if it peeved him: Vesper was just an incredibly fun loving guy, and was right about a few things. And Zero did hated losing, especially at a game that supposedly tests ones wits, of strategy and the mind. One would argue he should be expected to win every chance he got to play, so poking a little fun at the irony of such a thing was anticipated by the young man.

”It’s beginning to seem like more like a weekly ‘occurrence’ with you, and besides, I came here looking for spare junk, not to play board games.” He shrugged and thoughtfully tugged on the strap of his goggles, which were situated over his head and eyes, like always. Glancing about the garage and ignoring Vesper for the time being, he couldn’t help but notice how messy a condition it was in. The scene almost reminded him of his sleeping quarters, which certainly wasn’t a good thing at all.

It was more of a badly maintained storage area in vain of a junkyard, at least, the portion of it where Zero stood. He turned around, and winced, as he nearly tripped over a cracked and useless radiator parked at his feet. It was accompanied by a rather immense amount of similar second-hand goods, and he once again found himself questioning how Vesper called it a work room. The far end was in a bit better shape. The lifts that lead up to the amphitheatre lot were surrounded by all the various vehicles that had been collected or worked on, that just weren’t really in use. They were somewhat tidy, in case there was ever a need to put them to action, so the western wall didn’t look so shabby indeed.

The rest of the expansive garage was a swamp of mechanical refuse that made it near impossible to traverse. The area as a whole was a basic, yet large lot of four walls lined to the ceiling with shelves of electrical parts, scrap metal, out-dated gadgetry and the like. And of course, such a place was paradise to Vesper, being the strange little mechanic that he was. Though, Zero really had no place to argue; after all, anyone (few that they were) who ever saw where he slept, would probably go blind by the hive of computer monitors that seemed to all be in use at once, if they could somehow avoid becoming entangled in a jungle of wires and cords.

Still, had Vesper taken the time to fix up the place, it would have looked quite nice. But he wasn’t exactly a tidy looking man himself. He never dressed in anything particularly interesting, and seemed like an unkempt mess. His looks weren’t certainly one of his priorities, from what Zero had gained, and neither was the tidiness of his environment. It was making looking for a damn thing seem like an impossible chore. Eventually, Vesper spoke up, as the dirty blonde boy rummaged through a pile of materials that didn’t seem dangerously sharp or incredibly rusted. “You’ll get good at it in time, Zero, in time. There’s potential for you in everything.”

“Even the Nightriders, you think?” Lifting up a sheet of battered aluminum and examining it, he asked, before letting out a sigh.

”Hah, well… I don’t know about that, at least, not anytime soon. It isn’t the most rewarding job in the world, you know.”

Zero shook his head, once again having the feeling his age was detrimental to whatever potential he had. At this rate, a rewarding career for him would be scraping the grime off the toilet seats for the other patrons of the Chatrani. ‘Recognition would be nice. It’s not as if I need money; there’d be nowhere to spend it in ruin of a city. I really need to get out of here, but she’s not even ready yet… Kay is my ticket, though.’

It was obvious that what he needed wasn’t here, and he was becoming more anxious than ever to get back to work. Turning to Vesper, who was off in his own little world, he inquisitively grinned. “Hey Vesper, where did you find most of this stuff, anyway?”

The older man paused, and looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Hmm… Various transports, bikes and the like, just took them all apart. The useless ones, anyway; why do you ask?”

”Well… Where did you find them?”

”If you look hard enough up there, you can find anything. You’d be surprised what gets abandoned out on the surface. Now that reminds me… I need to go out to that crash site sometime this week. Didn’t you hear? Some English fool got careless and made a bit of a messy landing a good ways away from here. Probably lots to salvage, and should be okay for the time being.” He nodded, looking about for his tool set, and Zero blinked, pulling his hands away from the heap of metal before him.

”Salvage? Yeah… Yeah, I suppose. Listen, I’ll talk to you later…” He quickly got up and started heading to the exit from the garage, smirking privately. ‘He’ll salvage what he can sometime this week? That’ll take too long.’

”Oh? Well, get some rest from now on, you need to quit the late nights. You’re going to need it for when I beat you next time.” Vesper watched the kid curiously for a moment, but didn’t pay it any mind. Zero sprinted off, closing his eyes and shaking his head. ‘Rest… Hah.’

* * *

Posted by Jubilation Link @ 01:04 PM CST [Link]

Saturday, July 12, 2003

The sky was nothingness. A dismal, shadowy nothingness, that served seemingly no purpose. But it was a constant reminder to those who suffered in the dreary landscape below. The sky was a memento of the mistakes of the past; a cold, undying memory of mankind’s failures. The heavens were now contaminated into a murky abyss that veiled the earth and locked it away into the darkness. Ceaseless, was this state, and yet, ironically, the horrors of the species of man, and its lust for destruction and domination, was equally incessant. They would never change, and the cursed firmament above would forever remain as it were.

But to Dominique Chambers, it was never a curse. It had always been a dream, and one that she had achieved. It was her escape from the misery of her past life, and the people below who sought only to annihilate one another. The sky was as serene an environment one could hope to find, and Dominique and the people around her, had found it. They had reached the unreachable, and it was their realm now. This was heaven, and they were angels in God’s vast playground. How fitting a name they had come to give themselves, the Furious Angels, in a world where there seemingly was no greater being. And the gloomy, destitute state of all beneath the scorched black sky only attributed to this idea.

Dominique herself, despite this, had always held a close, artistic appreciation of it all. To her, there was something strangely, aesthetically pleasing to the inundation of the clouds. As calm as it looked from afar, the true nature of the atmosphere was a continuous churning of vapors. She saw it almost as if it were an expansive canvas; a pastel work of art in a perpetual work-in-progress state. It was violent, and yet tranquil, cold, and silent. Dominique knew she had easily found magnificence in the strangest of things, but for those inclined to examine the skies, she found it difficult not to appreciate the artistry of mankind’s most prominent work. It was that love and appreciation that had made her the pilot she was.

But even then, her dreams were never satiated. She enjoyed danger, the infamous image of theirs her group had obtained, and rather enjoyed the company of all those who came with her. Nevertheless, she always wished she could accomplish something else, despite it being totally implausible. Of course, she had seen pictures, and she knew well enough what it looked like… But to fly into the ‘blue yonder’, as it were: soaring in sky devoid of darkness and shimmering with sunlight would be an exhilarating experience. She often found herself toying with the idea in her head, and it was always nice to have dreams. It made her want to strive harder: she wasn’t exactly getting any younger, so if any imaginings of her were to come to exist, she’d rather they did sooner.

She had left her previous, nihilistic existence so long ago, it seemed. Yet, it had always, and would continue to be, impossible to forget. She had tried hard, too, and she had become happy, in the best sense the term could have when dealing with her. Dominique would be lying to herself if she told herself she didn’t miss her parents, or that she didn’t still remember every detail of the fire, or the screams she heard on occasion at night. But there was no reason to let others know. Some of the others probably already knew of her nightmares, which plagued her whenever she slept. Of course, they knew she was strong about it though, and it never got in the way of Dom’s capability as a leader. They were becoming more frequent as of late, and she found herself avoiding sleep every so often, as to deter the awful thoughts. Which it would, for the most part, and it wasn’t much of a problem anyway, as she enjoyed her time alone thinking, rather than sleeping.

She seldom could find time to herself, which had annoyed her, though it was to be expected. There being six ships, for ten of her faction, meant she was almost constantly in the company of someone else. Coupled with the fact that most of her group were males, didn’t exactly make her the happiest around. Not to say that she disliked having the opposite sex around, but she always felt awkward and tense in their presence. And being the leader, ineptitude would surely follow such awkwardness, which was something she wanted to avoid.

It had been two weeks since Dominique had last gotten some time alone, and that was gracefully spent in the storage locker on top of a couple of crates, a few minutes after waking up in cold sweat and stumbling about in darkness. Needless to say, she was pleased to finally get a chance to just clear her mind and relax a bit, especially before another raid. The last few, while enlivening, certainly had made her weary and more edgy than usual.

Unfortunately, her current state of recreation would have been a bit better, had she actually been comfortable. She was occupying one of the smaller quarters, and the mattress was horrid. For the last few minutes, she lay on her side, twisting about on the firm surface of the bed and wondering how someone could ever get any sleep on the damn thing, let alone relax for a couple moments. Her height had only made things worse; the mattress was one of the smaller ones, and her tall and thin figure didn’t exactly go so well with it. Dominique had often times resorted to just stealing one of the larger ones from one of the guys, but was too lazy and didn’t have the time as of this moment. But she was starting to regret that, because at this point, she felt a rock would have better suited her needs.

Her eyes flared open and looked around in the well lit room, then turned onto her back, sighed, and quickly propped her feet against the wall. She had the lights on so that she wouldn’t find herself falling asleep or losing track of time, and for a few instants, her blue eyes searched the surface of the ceiling overhead. Dominique’s eyes fluttered for a moment, and closed, as her body finally sank into the surface of the bed. It was a nice feeling, the cool air against the skin of her bare arms, her socks sliding up against the concrete wall, and absolute silence, save for the hum of the electricity in the light-bulb that hung over the center of the room, spilling pools of illumination throughout it.

The calm atmosphere was only meant to be brief, however, as Dominique’s brow flinched at a noise in the hall beyond her room. This room seemed to be no different than many of the others, the clacking of heels echoing through the corridor whenever someone walked by. Usually, those people would be courteous and make their way to their destination quickly and quietly, especially when Dom herself was trying to get a bit of rest. Her hearing stay focused on the clearly audible movement outside of her room, and figured this would be no different.

And then the footsteps paused, started again, and stopped at her door.

‘Damn...’ Seconds later there was a faint, but persistent knocking against her door, enough to force Dominique’s weary eyes open once more, and she slowly sat up, sliding her feet down to the bed. Her hands lay rested on the folds of her work jeans, and she took a moment to brush her blond hair from her eyes, before turning sideways toward the door. ”Alright... Alright, what do you want?”

There was another pause, and then the russet door slid open automatically. A young woman leaned in the room, two arms posted at either side of the doorway, and one of her legs lifted back, so that she carelessly was supported by only one of her feet. It was unmistakably Livewire, one of the youngest of the group. Her apparel was unique and obviously aiming toward rebellious; white shirt that cut off at her stomach, with blue sleeves, dark pants that were rolled up to just past her ankles, and a borderline excessive amount of jewelry that littered her wrists.

The nineteen-year-old girl’s style of dress suited her personality well; including the several piercing that went across both of her ear lobes, but it definitely wasn’t the most noticeable feature of hers. Livewire’s hair was short and spiked down against her shoulders, but the color was striking; a mix of chrome on one side that merged into light-blue on the other, the dyed blend making it impossible to tell what her original hair shade even was. It was an odd assortment, and somehow, it worked, matching her brilliant blue eyes, and metallic-esque lipstick. And her slim and attractive figure certainly showed she wasn’t lacking in that department either.

Livewire’s eyes dutifully searched about the room, inquisitive, but nonchalant, as was her voice. ”What are you up to in here…?” She asked indifferently, yet to turn her eyes on Dominique herself. The blonde watched her, with a somewhat annoyed look on her face, though partly because her hair had decided to fall back in front of her eyes again. She responded after a moment, with irritation apparent in her voice.

”Probably trying to get some rest- Which I, specifically, told you I wanted fifteen minutes of, exactly.” She slowly brought her legs off of the bed, turned, and started slipping into her boots, sighing perceptibly. Livewire turned her eyes onto Dominique, slowly walking into the room and closing the door behind her, leaning against the far wall and looking about as carelessly as before.

”Well, ‘Nique… We’re all a-waitin’, and it’s been twenty seven minutes.” She spoke a-matter-of-factly, bringing a hand to a loose wisp of hair and wrapping it along her finger.

The expression on Dominique’s face was unchanged as she slipped into her footwear, and she lifted her head to look at the young girl, along with a hand and the middle finger. ”Fuck you.”

A grin began to spread across Livewire’s silver lips, and she sarcastically pushed off the wall and began talking in a mock-innocent voice. ”Oh, that would be an utter, most sincere and delectable pleasure of mine,” She laughed slightly at her friend, stretching a bit, “Now, if only you’d get off your lazy ass, we’d get right to that.”

Dominique let out another, though slightly less bothered, sigh. She unhurriedly stood, giving the unwanted visitor a glare. She was accustomed to the girl’s constant barrage of smart remarks, a trademark almost as prominent as her looks themselves; but being disturbed was being disturbed, and humor wasn’t making up for the lack of time Dom had got to herself. She slowly walked over to a chair next to a relatively, unused desk in the corner, and grabbed her trench coat, as Livewire continued. ”…And by the way, Haven sends his regards. He knows how much you enjoy a good greeting when you’re just coming around, and wanted to know where you stood on that date offer-“

Slipping into her trench coat and reaching into one of the side pockets, she replied quickly, pulling out a half empty package of cigarettes. ”Ask him how many times I have to say no, before I’m forced to politely put a gun to his head.” She smirked and reached over onto the desk, feeling about for a lighter. Her hands quickly found it, and she brought one of the cigs to her lips, before lighting it carefully and talking at the same time.

”Nasty habit, don’t ever do this.” She stood still for a moment, taking a long drag from the cigarette, almost to the point where it looked skillful, and walked to the door, opening it quickly and stepping into the passage outside. She paced along the metal grating of the floor, her boots clicking against the steel, and her trench coat ruffling in the air behind her. Livewire soon followed, and Dominique spoke inwardly. ‘Here it comes…’

”Mm, but wouldn’t that only hamper my chances of becoming as disgustingly cool as you?” The girl said, once again in a pseudo childlike tone. Dominique smiled to herself, shaking her head slightly and taking another drag from her cigarette.

’Saw that one coming.’

* * *

Five billion dollars rested beneath Dominique’s feet. It was five billion dollars of concrete, steel, manpower, and fossil fuels. She had done her research on it, and was quite amazed by what she found, especially after she set foot there. The oil rig had been titled Typhon, and was, at its time, a marvel in technical engineering. It was two-hundred and thirty meters high, and took seven long years to build, out in the middle of the foggy Atlantic. The architecture was magnificent, and the sheer size of it was dizzying. It was so complex, and so many parts were integral to making it work, and yet it had been achieved by people. Though, perhaps it was just another odd fascination of hers, as the structure, Typhon, had been abandoned for over 78 years. Its iron had collected massive amounts of grime and rust, the concrete was cracked, and in a way, it saddened Dominique.

So much effort put into such a creation, only to be abandoned, obsolete. Hundreds of thousands of barrels of oil had been left here, only to become useless when other means of fueling had been found. At least, for now, she had restored some sort of purpose back into such a forgotten place. She and the Furious Angels had been occupying it for a few months now, and what a perfect location it was, as it suited all of their needs. Hundreds of miles from the eastern shore, in a desolate and rarely traversed sea, concealed by dense fog, it was well hidden, which was a would-be group of renegades dream. The topsides facility was large enough to serve as a platform for their ships to dock and refuel, and had enough housing for hundreds of people. The place still generated power well, despite its condition, and the Furious Angels had it all to themselves.

The fog had lifted slightly, now, in this midnight hour, which was a prime condition for getting themselves going. Dominique tossed a cigarette away and stepped onto the main platform, where her ship, a cargo vessel with some modified armament and weaponry, lay parked. Granted, she never got a chance to use the heavy cannons she spent a week working on to install, as she detested it, but felt they were worth having, in case things ever got ugly. Behind her plane, were the rest of the eight Angels, standing in a half circle and awaiting her words. Livewire soon passed by her side to meet them, and crouched against the cool ground, resting a hand against its surface.

Everyone met her eyes, and Haven was the first to greet her verbally, with a quiet laugh. “Get a good sleep, Captain? Snoozed a little too long, I heard.”

She grinned in reply, shrugging. “Well, you know how it is, the constant fantasies about me… Killing you with a blunt object, they’re just so hard to ignore or let go, you know? I hope all of you got some rest.” She looked them all over, and nodded, looking back at the auburn haired man, who always seemed to have a problem with his ego. Apparently, outgunning one or two fighters in his past had gone to his head.

Bishop and Rook, the twins, were at his side, their eyes hidden by dark glasses, as always, and they never really chose to speak. Fine engineers they were, though, and even better when it came to computers. Cube was one of the other females of the group, sporting normal, if not, dirty clothes and her hair tied back in a pony tail. She had a pack hung over her shoulder, most likely an assload of ammunition carelessly tossed into a sack; she always had a thing for guns. Icarus was behind her a bit, fixing his headset and checking his watch. Sphinx, one of the older ones, and a middle-eastern convict with a knack for hijacking airships, stood silently, watching her. Gryphon was pretty much giving her the same attention, though he was less blatantly cold about it, and almost, eager. Finally, at the end of them all, in fact, a good ways away from the rest, was Raven. She always wore a hooded shirt, preferably dark ones, and had a wicked smile on her face, suggesting she liked the idea and the danger behind what they were going to do tonight.

Dominique examined them for a moment, and spoke quickly, after making sure everyone had their gear in check. “Alright, you guys should already know the drill, and what we’ve gathered. This place is three buildings; a central one for research, with weapons on the higher floors, and scientific and miscellaneous offices in everything below the twentieth. The left flanking building is three floors, and again, mostly offices, which need to be ignored, except security.” She crouched and looked over at the twins. “Dynatech Labs is high security, Bishop and Rook will go in, and they will bring down the security net, Livewire will drop me in, and stay back as communicator, incase one of us happens to get lost or shit goes down,” She pointed to Raven, Icarus, and Gryphon.

“You three have the coordinates and the plans to the third building; its three floors like the other and is mostly a military, as in guns and fueling for aircraft, which in turn, means opposition. When the net is down, shit should be out of order, so you know what to do.” She finally stood, heading over to her ship and bringing down the back cargo hatch, turning to Cube. “You and Sphinx will be flying to make sure Rook and Bishop get the job done.”

Cube nodded and began to jog off, her eyes focusing on Dominique’s. “Good luck, Phoenix.” She saluted her slightly and continued across the platform, as Livewire and the lanky blonde brought down the large cargo ramp of the plane and walked up the steel, raised area, and as she pressed the switch at the far wall to slide it back into a secure, closed position, she grinned. “Fly high, Angels,” She reached into her coat pocket for another cigarette, turning to the young, azure and silver haired woman at her side, speaking again as she lit the end of her smoke. “Just another day at the job… You ready?”

”No. But that’s what makes it so fun.” Livewire nodded and walked ahead of Dominique en route to the cockpit. The Phoenix took a long drag from the lit cigarette and blew a billowing cloud of smoke into the small compartment, closing her eyes for a moment. “Let’s do this, shall we?”

* * *

”There’s always a damn window, you know, I’m seriously ticked off about the whole window idea. Can’t we just take it down permanently? And another thing: why are we here waiting?”

”You’re too eager. Calm down, and we have to fall back. Just keep it easy and slow, and they’ll be done with the charges soon.”

”And what if something’s happened? No communication until the system is down seems like a bad idea to me.”

”Nothing ever happens. Trust me.”

The plane was cruising slowly, high above the skies of Washington D.C. They had just entered this district, and Rook and Bishop had gone ahead of the rest, who were following at a dispersed angle, among other flight traffic, as not to attract too much attention. Dominique sat quietly at the controls, staring at the intercom and waiting for some type of signal, her hand firmly gripping the accelerator for the thrusters. Granted, she was just as eager as Livewire, who sat at her side, switching off the lights in the cabin and staring out into the foggy sky, as if looking for something, though knowing there wasn’t a damn thing to look for anything. Just endless fog and the faint beacon of a civilian ship every now and then.

The noise of static from the intercom rang in Dominique’s ears, the sound becoming awfully disturbing, but necessary, as they waited for a response from the others. Though the procedure was to be quick and precise, the blonde was almost twitching at the searing whine of radio nothingness, and was just about compelled to turn it off. And she probably would have, had someone not cut into the frequency.

”The charges are set, they should blow out some of the power, and the compound’s security will be down for fifteen minutes. Go.”

”That’s our cue.” Dominique’s hand quickly drove the accelerator into high gear, jerking back as the ship suddenly lurched forward, gaining incredible speed. They sheared through the thicket of clouds as the descended forward, moving faster and faster, the whir of the engines and the burning thrusters propelling them ahead grew louder. The broke through the haze and could see the large skyscraper ahead of them. That visual check was all Dominique needed as she suddenly spun out of her seat, Livewire hopping into her place, and she dashed down the corridor of the hull of the plane. “Set us up right over the tower and let me know when you’re there.” She snatched up a loaded M16 from wall at her side, and headed to the backside hatch.

Livewire, steadily working the controls, threw an arm back and signaled Dominique that she was in place. “Set it off, girl.”

”Will do.” Dominique hurriedly lowered the lift, the cool, midnight air and the breeze and swirl of wind from the jets of the hovering ship caused her hair to whip about. The ship was slowly swinging around and situating itself closer to the front of the building. The dark tinted glasses showed no signs of what lie inside, but at this hour, chances are the higher floors were seeing less activity. Dirt from the outside of the building and it’s windows billowed about at the rush of air, and she raised her rifle, its flashlight shining against the cool, dark green glass surface. Taking aim, she fired quickly, scattering a few rounds against its surface and causing it to crack, as Livewire edged her closer. She ducked her head under her arm, and ran forward, firmly slamming side-first into the glass and shattering the section of it, rolling against the carpeted floor as shards of broken window cracked underneath her coat and boots.

She immediately swung upright, her weapon poised as she looked about. It was a storage room, boxes and old computer parts, as well as other electronic equipment that seemed relatively unused or discarded. The area was clear, and she only had fifteen minutes, which meant she had to move quickly to get to the twenty fifth floor, so she hurriedly dashed forward, still scanning around with her weapon, before making a right and weaving between junk and unmarked boxes. She found what she was looking for soon enough: an elevator, which hopefully, was going idle at the moment. She quickly pressed at the key to bring it to her floor, and switched on her headset, pulling down the small microphone so it was level with her cheek. Immediately, she began getting feedback from Livewire, at the other end, who should have been safely making her way from the building at the moment.

”Phoenix, are you there? I’m making some distance; everything seems to be going good. Rook and Bishop seem to be heading out right now, but I’m not sure. The others are breaking into the other parts of the facility. Are things all clear for you?”

There was a soft chime as the elevator made its stop, and its doors slid open. She speedily made her way inside and opted to go for the weapons lab for her first visit, the doors sliding closed again. Normally, after leaving the elevator, she would expect to need I.D for further progress, but thankfully, that was out of the way. The elevator steadily made it’s way down the shaft to the twenty fifth floor, and Dominique kept her rifle ahead of her, just incase there would be opposition. Her descending abruptly stopped, and she peered ahead, yet luck seemed to be on her side yet again; the area seemed empty as well, hallways of pure white flooring and cobalt walls. It seemed to junction into several directions, as she hastened herself through the corridors, but she knew where to go.

Taking the rightmost passage, she looked up into the corners where the wall and the ceiling met. The cameras were unmoving, limp, and dead, so all things were clear. There had always been a sense of luck in what they did, as her and the Angels could never truly be sure of their reconnaissance’s worth until they got to the mission, though so far, there were never any serious errors in their judgment, so it had always gone well. She made her way to the first entrance at the right, a doorway that seemed to need a pass code, and was sealed tightly shut.

Dominique was never much for pass codes. She aimed the end of her rifle and fired several rounds at the small console, breaking it and causing it to crack and snap apart, the popping of electricity in the air. Her hand shook at the recoil, and the door gradually lurched open partially. She had no problem with forcing it the rest of the way open, and grinned, lowering her gun slowly as she looked about in her new surroundings. She spoke into her intercom after a moment, a devilish tone in her voice. “Oh, I like what I see here, Livewire. I like it a lot.”

”What is it? Anything we can use? Raven managed to hook us up with enough fuel to get us by for awhile, it should be—“

”It’s far from fuel. But it’s a very big play toy…”

”Oh my, sounds exciting, Phoenix. You have approximately… Eleven minutes until you have cameras all over your ass, I suggest you lug whatever you found out of there fairly soon.”

She didn’t respond, or comply or move faster, either. The room was surrounded by computer consoles that were all powered off, in three of the four sides of the room, and at the farthest end away from her, behind a panel of glass, lay something extremely appeasing indeed. It had to be at least five and a half feet long, and weigh a pretty hefty amount, as well. It was a gun, but unlike anything she had seen before. There was no barrel, and while the back end seemed to be just a modified version of the machine gun she held in her hands, the front could only be described as two, long prongs that seemed pretty bulky themselves. It was a large gun, though mainly only top to bottom, rather than wide, yet it seemed more like a cannon.

She shook her head, and quickly jogged over to the console beneath the paneling of glass that separated her from the weapon. It turned on fairly quickly, a nifty, and mercifully, short Dynatech Labs animation came up, before a menu, offering specs on the weapon. She pressed her hand against the screen of the console and selected to see the overview, and was suddenly greeted by an almost, mechanical, female voice from the speakers on the wall, under the pane.

”The LSR-X89, version one point seven prototype electrical pulse cannon. The LSR-X89 was designed by chief technician and weapons engineer Darrin Sikes, and his colleagues, at Dynatech Labs in Washington D.C, in the year of 2134. In the process of two years, a prototype was released and tested. The weapon itself weighs 70.56 pounds (32 kilograms), and is 1.5 meters (5.1 feet) in length. While originally designed as a rail gun armament for military vehicular purposes, its designer later opted for a far greater destructive capacity, rather than precision. Since then, and as of the second Quarter of 2137, 500 of the LS2-X89 have been manufactured.”

The female narrator continued, as the screen showed a diagram of the weapon, highlighting various areas of it. ”The LSR-X89 uses no dispensable ammunitions, is fully rechargeable on its own, and fires a highly effective bolt of electrical energy at a speed estimate twice that of the velocity of a normal rifle bullet. Its munitions are drawn directly from static electricity within the air, which is processed into the highly powerful (if somewhat unstable) beam. For areas where the energy needed for operation of the weapon is not obtainable (this is highly unlikely, as the user should give off enough for minimal use), unused energy is stored in the LSR-X89 auto-recharging battery, with a capacity of—“

Dominique efficiently aimed her rifle and fired into the console, disrupting the woman’s voice and ending the program fairly quickly, and she grinned. “Don't you ever shut up? I’m on a tight schedule.” She raised the end of her rifle and slammed it forward with all her weight, crashing through the glass that displayed the gun. She strapped the M16 over her shoulder and reached past the broken shards, lifting the new present off of the hooks that held it, and she pulled it closely to herself, turning around and getting a feel for it in her hands. The operation seemed simple enough. She aimed it forward after a moment, slowly pulled back a lever at the side of the cannon, and there was a soft hum. It began to increase for a few moments, and when the pitch didn’t seem as if it would go any higher, she positioned her finger against the trigger, before pulling back. Dom was instantly sent to her back, slamming into the broken monitor she had shot up, as a twisting, tangled beam of electricity blasted forward, found its way to the door she had broken into, and blew it apart, snapping the partially opened entranced and taking chunks of the doorway with it.

Though her face should have been wincing, her eyes were wide and she shot to her feet, lifting the heavy gun with her, slowly. “Holy fuck, L.W., I think we got ourselves a winner—“

”Will you hurry the hell out of there? Seven minutes- Damn, hold on, just get moving.”

She frowned slightly, quickly dashing through the wreckage she just caused. ‘Just got to ruin a girl’s fun, eh...?’ She thought to herself, as she sprinted, LSR-X89 in tow, back to the elevator to get to an exit. She was pleased enough, her job was done here. As she made her way inside the elevator lift, and its doors closed, there was a sudden flicker in the fluorescent light overhead.

Blonde hair fell across Dominique’s blue eyes as she peered up at the buzzing light, before suddenly, it shut down, and the elevator suddenly lurched, before grinding and sliding down suddenly. She fell to the floor in pitch darkness, a loud, metallic screeching ramming into her ear drums, as she unwillingly began to descend in the shaft. She shouted into her intercom at Livewire, despite being unable to hear a damn thing but the scraping of steel against concrete and more steel. There was a jolt, and she shot forward, almost smacking against the doors of the elevator, before it shuddered once more, dropped a bit farther, and stopped.

There was darkness, silence, and then a light overhead, a thin, red one that lined the top of the back of the elevator, shone visibility back into the area. Dominique quickly got to her feet, the cannon falling to the corner of the elevator, and she straightened out her headset and brown trench coat, that had slid off half way. “Christ, Livewire, what was that? Are you there?”

”Uh, ‘Nique… Phoenix, we got a problem. The twins crashed.”

Dominique quickly ran a hand through her hair, feeling as if she was going to have a headache, and incredibly pissed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

”They were taking off, and they crashed- There was a malfunction, or something, I don’t know, Cube, Sphinx, Gryphon and Raven and the others are going to pick them up, they’re okay, but they fucked over the goddamn place’s power. The Labs, hell, the damn block is out. I really can’t tell what happened exactly, just get yourself out of there…”

”You’ve got to be shitting me.” She didn’t reply much more after that and instead, lifted up the newly retrieved firearm and thrust it against the hatch section of the elevator, breaking through it, before tossing the heavy gun out with a loud clang. She leapt up and grabbed onto the edge of the escape, and slid the length of her body out, her coat getting caught at the end, and forcing her to yank it free, before lifting up the gun once more. The Elevator had stopped almost directly below one of the floors, and she wasted no time moving forward and pushing the doors apart, as the gears inside seemed fried, and didn’t keep her from doing so. After a few moments, she had slid them far enough to allow her to slide inside, and the environment was cast in a dark crimson from the emergency lighting.

She turned back, and looked at the wall alongside the elevator, that stated she was on the fifth floor. She sure as hell wasn’t going to run her way back up to the top, so it seemed as if she was going to have to make her way to the bottom. Unexpectedly, ahead of here, there was the sound of movement. Her eyes shot forward and she raised the LSR-X89, keeping it primed ahead of her. She stealthily moved forward down the hall that seemed to split and merge into several other passages at either side. But the sound had come from the end of the hall, so she continued on that way. It was an eerie scene, the lighting not making her feel any less uneasy as she made her way to the end and checked all directions. There was no sign of anything around.

’I swear, if anything jumps out at me, I’m blowing the son of a bitch to hell and back…’

She decided to take the left path, and began quickly heading along it, her boots clicking against the cold floor softly, before she heard movement again, behind her, and turned to see several weapons readily aimed at her. They were military, most likely guards of the facilities’ higher most floors, where research had gone on. She was lucky enough not to run into them at the twenty second floor, but her luck seemed to have run out.

”Freeze! Hands over your head, now! Drop the weapon!” The man shouted out the commands as he moved closer forward, ready to fire. There were two others behind him.

”Jesus, look at the size of that thing, where’d she find that?”

”I think we just bagged ourselves a—" Almost instantly, something shot out of the main hallway Dominique had just came from. The marine, who had been ready to shoot her, suddenly turned away as his comrade let out a scream. Dominique raised her pulse-cannon high, as the man at the far end was slashed across the neck by a blurred figure. The one closest to her was kicked against the wall, and the figure effectively twisted the arm of the other, breaking it audibly, and reversing the direction of the man’s weapon, before plunging the rifle through his chest, impaling him on it. Dominique watched, still backing away slowly, without firing, as the figure then speared the last of its military opposition through the gut.

She saw it clearly now, even under the hard, scarlet light that made the spilt blood seem like oil. It was a chimera woman, a half breed of feline (it seemed, though she couldn’t tell what) and human. Her long, auburn hair ran down the back of her shoulders, and she was wearing a hospital gurney. Her extended fingernails were about half a foot in length, each, and they seemed like fairly capable weapons. She twisted her hand as she gored the man, and he let out a bawl of pain, before she silenced him with her other hand, which Dominique turned away from, the sound enough to make her sick.

The body slumped to the ground, and Dominique sharply looked back, her finger easing closely against the trigger.

And then she slowly lowered the gun. The woman looked at her with strangely luminous eyes, before smiling barely. “Thank you. We are free.”

Dominique stared back coldly, yet nodded. “I owe you one.”

”…As do I.” The chimera slowly backed away, its claws slowly sheathing themselves, as she dashed down the opposite corridor. “I can hear the cries of a human three floors below. But perhaps it too has perished like the rest.” That was the last thing she said, before she rounded the other corner and disappeared out of sight.

’What the fuck am I, a savior now… Christ… I need to get out of here…' She didn’t take a moment to peer down at the bodies on the ground, and turned away, continuing to a door that led to the staircase that would be her ticket to getting the hell out of dodge. As she burst through the door, and hurriedly jogged down the steps, Livewire began trying to reach her once more.

”Dominique, where are you? Rook and Bishop and the rest are on their way out, get out of there before we get into more shit.” Dominique raked a hand through her hair again, still carrying the pseudo rail-gun in her hands, which was making for a difficult run indeed.

”Meet me at the first…The… First…”

The door to the second floor was open. It was a long hallway, a long, bloody hallway. It was littered in an obscene amount of gore, blood, and entrails. Children, it was all… Children, some adults, scientists, nurses, workers… A pain shot down the back of her neck and through her head, her voice trailing off, and her eyes and mouth open at the scene, and her body suddenly felt hot, as if it was going to burst into flames, as if she could feel flames. And then there was a weak movement in the middle of the room, under a pile of rubble from a ceiling that had been torn apart by some unseen force. It was another child, half buried, and her hair sprawled against the floor. Her body was limp and devoid of consciousness, but she was alive, but just barely, and bleeding.

Dominique, for a moment, saw herself lying there, and there was no noise: even the sound of Livewire on the other end wondering if she was okay, was drowned out in her mind.

The M16 fell to the floor, and the LSR-X89 took its place over her shoulder, as she hurriedly ran toward the girl lying gravely injured on the icy floor. She lifted her up quickly, staring at the girl almost perplexed at her decision and emotion, and spoke coldly back at Livewire, finally. “Second floor, front side, be there, now.”

”… Right… Phoenix, God, you gave me a scare.”

Dom sprinted forward, past the bloodied remains and streaks of crimson that ran along the walls and floor, and headed through a partially opened door, to an office, a plain office with windows littered about just like the higher floor. She looked about quickly, cursing herself inside, and peering down at the young, bleeding girl in her arms. ‘Which side, which side, come on Livewire, don’t let me down.’

To her right side, the jets of the plane could be heard through the glass, its lift shuddering open as Livewire steadily parked it in position. Suddenly, gunfire could be seen and heard against the hull of the ship, and Dominique rushed ahead, diving against the glass at running speed, smashing through it with her side, landing and rolling along the steel flooring of the lift, and she reached up, exasperated, and slammed her hand as hard as she fucking could against the trigger to close the lift. The strange little girl slid from her arms to the floor of the plane, and Livewire began yelling something to Dominique as she fell to her knees, her head wracked with pain and the gun falling to the ground as well. Her vision slowly blurred, and she looked onward, searching for Livewire, and exhausted from mental and physical fatigue, collapsed against the metal flooring.

As they began to speed off and the backside hatch closed completely, the clacking of gunfire subsiding, Dominique looked at the girl beside her, losing consciousness herself and looking up at a stunned Livewire, who had made her way to the back, and obviously set them on autopilot.

”Dominique, what the hell… Happened… Who is this…?”

The blonde shook her head a bit, her vision distorting even more, as the headache worsened, and she didn’t feel like relaxing anymore. She needed to sleep, and she mumbled a slightly as she slowly came to rest against the metal grating. “Help the kid, damnit... I’m just fine… I just need a smoke…” Dominique Chambers closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, willingly challenging any nightmares to come and wreak havoc on as she slumbered. Livewire bent down and changed channels on her headset, speaking to Cube. "Get everyone back to Typhon... We've got an, uh... Developement."

She turned her head to the girl who lay on the cold grating and lifted her up slightly, examining the apparent knife wound with a quick glance, before lifting her up and carrying her off to the nearest seat in the plane.

"Nothing ever happens. Right."

* * *

Posted by Jubilation Link @ 06:49 AM CST [Link]

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