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| Behind Alabaster Walls | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 13 2010, 04:39:46 AM (2,158 Views) | |
| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Sep 13 2010, 04:39:46 AM Post #1 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Behind Alabaster Walls ![]() The Carbonis Complex, Sector 0, Mahanoy, The West Pacific The darkened room fit his mood splendidly as he punched the wall with a force he intended to use to smash in the face of one of those insubordinate fools. Meeting only the solid stone, his fist shattered, the bones breaking on impact, yet still he went undeterred as he struck it again with the same force. The excruciating pain raced up his arm, biting at his neck, as it surged forth blinding his vision. Howling, the enraged beast turned to kicking his desk in an attempt to divert and displace the anger and pain to anywhere but himself. "DAMN YOU!" he cursed aloud, roaring with rage. The news of Novac's accident and possible death had spread so quickly, so immediately, faster than a wildfire through the driest seasons of the year, that already half of Mahanoy knew before he could exploit the situation to his advantage. The fury boiled within him....how could this have happened? First Damon had somehow miraculously survived the assassination attempt, then he practically glorified himself like some martyred saint with powerful foreign nations, and now Novac had been sideswiped in a possible terrorist attack! It was madness, all madness, and he had no control over the outcome of any of these events as the news spread too quickly outside of his networks. Rushing inside, several heavily armed soldiers stood at attention, poised and prepared to fire at whatever threatened their charge. Their wandering aim quickly traveled the room to find no target but the enraged man standing before a window looking out into the black Mahanionian night. "Sir, is everything alright?" a soldier braved, holding his weapon at the ready should the general give the order to shoot an unseen target lurking in the shadows of the darkened room. "WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED IMMEDIATELY!?" he barked, turning hastily towards the man, the broken hand spilling blood onto the ground as he waved it angrily at the charged informant. "Sir," began the nervous informant, almost timidly, afraid of the repercussions of his answer, "sir, I only told Harris and few others. You were busy, I thought nothing of the action." "AND WHEN ARE YOU TO DECIDE WAS IS OR IS NOT IMPORTANT!?" the anger broiled, the howl of rage deepening. "Sir, I mean you no disrespect. I did not realize this was a matter of national security. It is General No-" "Shoot him." The order was firm, cold, emotionless and unforgiving. With unbridled hatred burning in his eyes, the general stared down the informant while he walked closer to the man. Unsure of whether or not to follow the order, another soldier tentatively brought his gun to the informant but hesitated, unsteadily holding his aim between the informant and the floor as he looked to the general for reassurance. "I SAID SHOOT HIM." Coldly the command followed. "Sir, are you sure....it was just an accident." Snatching the rifle from the soldier, the general wasted no time emptying half the clip into the informant, ruthlessly watching with that burning resentment as the man stumbled back and tried to shield himself futility against the onslaught of bullets. He struggled to desperately breathe, sickeningly gasping for air through his torn lungs. Still, it was not enough, not enough to quench the rage from within the general. Bringing his heavy boot down against the man, he stomped hard, attempting to crush the man's skull while the man begged for a merciful death against prolonged suffering. As if granted, the general's heal came down a third time succeeding in its task to crush the man's life. "If you ever disobey my orders again, it will be your life, do you understand?" the general turned to the remaining soldiers who fought to hide the unsettling horror rising within them. Any one of them at that moment could have ended it, could have put their own rifles to his head, but they stood there, paralyzed as they watched. And at that moment it was all any of them could do but collectively agree in unison towards their unforgiving heartless general knowing anything short of a "yes sir" would be their own lives. "Now get back to your posts before I change my mind. I can eliminate you just as easily if you ever pull that shit again. And take that piece of garbage with you," he spat at the body on the ground, kicking it like filth to assure that there was no possible life left within it. The soldiers departed silently as they hauled the lifeless man from the room while the general watched with disdain. Once alone, he sunk to the ground, collapsing in his own fury next to the shattered phone he sent across the room when he first learned of this wretched news. "What to do now? Was this an attack against Mahanoy? Could he make it look like one? Was this an opportunity he could manipulate to show the world once and for all that Mahanoy, no he, would annihilate any resistance, any barrier, any attempt to deter him from his goals? Could he continue this façade? Could he eliminate them all?.....Dante." The name sprung to his mind, crawling from the recesses of his soul as if placed there purposely, whispered into his mind by the dead man himself. The blood stain on the floor brought with it the memories of beating their former Figure Head senseless. Dante did not beg for his life like these pathetic wretches. No, those black pools of rage and wrath burned back at him, never once removing them selves from him as they seared themselves into his memory. He shook his head, burying it within his blood soaked broken hand. "No, no," he murmured to himself, trying to push back the memories, fighting against the possibility of his existence, "he is dead. We killed him. XGN got him. It could not have been....that was someone else." "Betrayal is sweet.....too sweet...."* "Clara?" he whispered, looking up almost expecting to see her sitting there on his desk, leaning forward with enough cleavage showing to entice him. But as he should have expected, the room was empty with only the memories of his past haunting him, burning into him, reminding him that he could never run away. "GO AWAY!" he yelled, pulling his hair, feeling the pain in his hand before he once again lashed out in a wild display of anger, yet another time punching his desk hoping to make them all go away. Blinding pain shot through his arm and he succumbed this time, allowing the momentary break from his memories as it plunged him into that temporary reprieve. * Link to Corresponding Post and RP OOC: Considering an OOC thread for this, but in the mean time feel free to ask my questions if you have any. This is another one of those open RP's but contact me to find placement. I am utilizing this thread for post EPTO development. ![]() |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Sep 25 2010, 05:58:09 PM Post #2 |
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Cool like Snakes
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I brought you to life so I could hear you scream. Agony penetrated the quiet morning as the scream reverberated off the walls of the sleeping corridors. Every fiber in his body burned with the intense pain, each cell begging against the sudden demands placed upon them. His body pleaded for death, supplicating against the pain of sudden temperature changes. The rewarming process was moving swiftly, much too quickly and aggressively than physiologically and humanely tolerable for any other man given the same situation. But it was Carbonis, it was Diehl's son, and they needed him awake before anyone gave the orders to ship his unconscious body back to Mahanoy. "GOD DAMN IT! Medicate him!" cried one of the nurses as she breathlessly rushed into the room to see a team of black uniforms surrounding the pale frozen body. "He has been. He is not aware of what is happening to him mentally. He will not remember this," one of the men assured as he pushed more warmed fluids into Damon. "Is there nothing else you can give him?" she asked more insistent, pressing on as she pushed her way in to see her charge. "Not until we get through this process. I assure you ma'am, we do not want him hurting any more than you do, but there is an immediacy in this decision. If he is really an Elite we can expect trouble to find us shortly. I want him conscious and walking by the end of the night. Direct orders from General Terebyeva. This is a military affair ma'am and ethics do not always take precedence. We believe in a different code," the blond haired man smiled softly to her as he turned back to Damon, injecting a thick violet viscous fluid into the central line they played. The action was met with a twisting and gradual twitching of Damon's body while he grunted in pain. Pinned by the men around him, the nurse could do nothing but offer her assistance, jumping into the care. If it was Terebyeva's orders, her best defense was to be part of the resuscitation methods. "We are losing him," the voice spoke, a steady collected calm setting the tone of the room. And as the words were spoken, Damon's body slowly stopped twisting in physical agony. The arms restraining him released with his measured lessening of resistance. Watching in disbelief as the men seemed to wait, the nurse stood baffled, momentarily silenced into shock. Part of her wanted to scream at them, to jump on the table and begin manual resuscitation her self, but another part paralyzed her on the scene, insisting she remain motionless and observe. "Heart rate 32.......26......15....6...3..0. Go." The order was simple, short, a single word and a flurry of life sprang from his dying breath. Instantly they released the clamps on several lines, Damon's chilled blood sluggishly draining his body. She watched as the bled him dry, letting whatever was left drain away. "Total blood volume down 50%......30%......13%. Begin rapid rewarming now." Everything around her seemed to whirl back to life as his blood was rapidly warmed. She had only heard rumors about the experimental methods of revival in Carbonis, but here it was before her eyes as these trained experts brought Damon back to life in record breaking speed. She watched them inject an equally viscous yellow liquid into Damon as they transfused his warmed blood back into his body and pushed the warm fluids in. Damon gasped violently, fighting against the arms that quickly restrained him. Once again, he felt the cold numbing of his skin and organs burning, an intense biting, a tingling, a fire searing him from within. He fought against the urge to scream as his desperately searching eyes begged them for an answer. It was not until they injected him that he bent backwards with the agony, the grunting turning into an agonized cry as he felt his muscles spasm painfully, his bones threatening to crack beneath the sudden pressure exerted on them. "He's fighting it," the same relaxed voice announced. "Diehl," the order was firm, "do not fight what you are experiencing right now. The more you fight the harder this will be on you. I realize you are trained to survive. Let us take control for a moment. You will be back with us." Damon continued to struggle, his back arching more painfully, his jaw clenching, his grasp firmly clutching the steel table beneath him. "Give him more." "It may cause permanent damage," the first objection of the group was raised. "I realize the risks. He will keep fighting. He is a trained Elite. The man survived an assassin's bullet. Put his body into more pain. I think we will have more control if he use his pain." "Yes, sir," the verbal confirmation was met with another injection which Damon responded to by shuddering. His muscles again spasmed as he tightened against the effects. The agonized cry did not go unheard. Tensions began to rise, curses muttered as they waited for a certain response. "Move out of the way," Terebyeva strode into the room, pushing people out of the way as he made his progress towards Damon. Without further explanation, he brought his fist down hard on Damon’s arn, shattering the bones in the process. "Where is your father?" the steely voice threatened Damon. Like the final piece to a puzzle, it all fell into place at once. Damon's body slumped, this jaw loosened, his muscles relaxed as his vitals again plummeted. "General!" someone shouted, "what was that about?" "Psychology," Terebyeva responded as he looked at Damon dying again, "It is my job to know where to strike a man to take him down." "You broke his arm!" the incredulous man responded. "It would have been his back. He will forgive me when he wakes. Right now finish the procedure. While he is staged fix that arm. Give him nothing for pain. I need this man responsive in an hour. Word is Mahanoy is on edge." "Yes, sir!" the collective response emanated from the room. And all the while the nurse stood there watching speechless. Ways of the military may have seemed unethical but when she saw the pain behind Terebyeva's eyes at his course of action she knew their ethics were guided in something higher.....a sense of camaraderie that bond them closer than family. Smiling to herself, she returned to assisting the men repair her charge. An hour later, Damon sat on the steel table grabbing his head shaking uncontrollably and grimacing with pain throughout his spent body. "What happened?" he asked weakly, his body physically exhausted and tired. "I feel like death right now.....like I just walked right out of my grave." Laughing the group just shook their heads, "so we hear." Uncertain if their laughter was merited or not, Damon just buried his head in his hand, his head aching, his cold skin numb and tingling. Not a single part of his memory could explain why he felt this way. His last memories were a blur between being kicked in the balls at a school he never attended and something about fur coats. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Oct 14 2010, 05:15:09 AM Post #3 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Secure Facility, Classified Location, The Grand Duchy of Reziel "Status update." "Sir, the Secretary General is critical. The extraction process took three and a half hours even with our best men. He received twelve units of blood on the field during the extraction. His vital signs are stable but he is still unresponsive. He has positive cranial nerve reflexes but is not responding to touch or pain. There is a suspected spinal cord injury. We have taken proper precautions to not aggravate the degree of the injury. He has been placed under our top surveillance. Right now all we can do is wait Colonel Uth Reiser." ------ He could not remember the exact moment he regained consciousness or what had happened, but his training took hold as he laid there and gave into the critical condition. He willed himself to breath with the ventilator, suppressed the responses to pain, refused to respond to their touch...all in an attempt to find out where he was and if he was safe here. "Yes sir, you may enter Colonel Uth Reiser." The name struck him as familiar and no longer did he fight to maintain the illusion that he was critical. It was too important now to see the man, to know where he was, to try to learn if he was safe here, and what had happened. He opened his eyes only to see darkness. Fighting against it, he pushed himself up only to find he never moved. A few moments of struggling with his body and he became quickly aware that he was trapped. His entire mind had in a moment fabricated a response he was not having. He was not in control, his body was not responsive, and he laid their powerless to fight against his own critical condition. Even at that moment he became aware he was not breathing on his own. His lungs were paralyzed, his heart mechanically beat outside of his control, his arms and legs motionless as he laid there frozen within the confines of his body and for the first time in his life he realized just how fragile and tenuous their lives were. "Reiser. What happened?" The words only formed themselves in his mind. He fought against the building delusions to see the truth that his lips never moved, the words never formed, and his jaw hung slackly open with a tube down his throat. No sound but the sound of the mechanical puffs of air entering and leaving could be heard from him. "Colonel. Who are you?" Persistence did not change the result. He became aware that the more he tried the less and less lucid his mind became. The exhausting efforts of his mind began to fail him and for a while he submerged himself into the delusions. He was sitting up talking with Reiser, learning what had happened, where he was, and that everything was a major miscommunication. He would be back in Mahanoy? Was it Mahanoy? He would return home to his wife and children? Did he have any? Snapping back to it, Novac sharpened his mind, picking only remnants of the murmured discussions between the people in the room. Critical. Spinal cord injury. Extraction. The words began to lose a cohesive link in his mind and he found himself fighting an exhausted fatigue in his mind. The memories dulled, his thoughts slowed, and he found himself drifting away. He tried to grasp for anything, a clear tangible word, a piece of conversation, anything to explain to him what was happening, but all his mind could focus on was a word, a single word, Reiser. It was the key to this problem. It was the solution to this confusion. This Reiser would solve it all. But what was it? No longer could he remember what Reiser was but only that the word itself was important....that if anything, he needed to remember it. And as he slipped back into unconsciousness, his mind grasped and held the word, repeating it over and over again, imprinting it eternally into his memory. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Reziel | Oct 14 2010, 05:55:13 AM Post #4 |
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Eternal Delegate
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«Colonel… time for you to get out» The medic’s voice dragging him back to the ongoing situation, Lachdanan frowned. But he had just opened his mouth to express his own disagreement when Major Sawyer shook his head. «Colonel… Storm. Sorry. On this battlefield, my authority oversteps yours. Mine wasn’t a suggestion. Right now, you’re being nothing else but an hindrance for us all. Therefore, with all due respect I’m asking you to get out of here. Either that… or I’ll call in the guards and have you dragged away» told the medic with his best authoritarian tone «And you know I’ll do it» he added, a warmer smile appearing on his face. «Yes… and in the meanwhile you’ll try to backstab me again» replied Lachdanan, as coldly as possible. «AH!» puffed the medic «You cursed brat will go on forever whining about that injection, won’t you?» he added, this time being unable to stifle an amused smile. With that, Lachdanan finally relaxed. His trust in the medic was complete and he was perfectly aware Novac couldn’t have been in better hands. And despite that… «Lach… I will keep you updated in real time, trust me. Right now, his conditions are critical… but yes, I am fairly optimistic. He has a steel-fiber. We’ll have to wait for possible… damages, but unless something really unexpected sprouts out, I’m sure he will live» Nodding, Lachdanan allowed himself a quick recapitulation of the whole situation. Immediately after the… event, the Rezielan EPTO troops had basically taken the control over the whole situation in Tricorne. Medics had immediately assisted the wounded Mahanonian General whom, in the end, had been moved in New Irem for better assistance. Till that, everything had gone as smoothly as possible, as the Rezielans’ reaction had been so quick nobody else had had a chance to add a word. In the meanwhile, the whole thing had reached Reziel’s desktop… and the Protector’s Seal had come. From that moment on, the whole thing had started being handled as a national security issue… and Novac had de facto vanished from the face of earth. Two hours earlier, a first informal interrogation on Novac’s whereabouts had come from Mahanoy… within the two hours to come, they would have been denied an answer. That would have bought them all some more time. Too many things out of place… that was what his instinct was telling him. Hell if he knew what… but he would have given ear to his own sensation, at least until Novac wouldn’t have waked up. Right now, everything was fine. Everything which could have been helpful for anyone in detecting Novac… it had been removed, being kept one hundred miles away from the General’s actual location. Two platoons of Archangels were protecting the secret compound… and despite having been reduced to the very essential, the medical staff assisting him was the best the Archangel corp could produce… which meant it was the best of the best. Now, they just needed for the general to wake up. «Fight, Novac» he whispered, while finally heading for the exit door. |
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Armis Exposcere Pacem They demanded peace by force of arms ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Oct 15 2010, 03:24:39 AM Post #5 |
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Cool like Snakes
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It had been three days.....three days and no word about the condition or whereabouts of General Novac. Vaeda had been whisked away to EPTO's headquarters and had remained there under the Rezelian's protection ever since. News about the accident was kept secure. All of EPTO had done too well of a job recovering the few articles released. It was as all was intended, Novac had simply disappeared from the face of the earth. Even his comm link was severed about two hours after the accident. It was the last she heard about him and those words still burned in her mind. "We're losing him." Three days ago she only feared the worse but now as she sat behind the blurred text of the report she was writing, the worse case scenario began to become a reality. No more could she think what if Novac was dead, but rather she had to start asking herself what should she do now that he was dead. Her typing became mechanical and within thirty minutes, the official report of Novac's accident and suspected death had be sent to Mahanoy. No questions would be asked. Nothing more could be asked of her. She completed her duties as TEP's liaison to Mahanoy and would now return back to EPTO to fulfill her duties there. Walking the halls, she met the eyes of a few people who sent her a questioning look. Novac's disappearance, Vaeda's behaviors, the whole situation had been too suspicious for people not guess that whatever happened to the Mahanonian was not pleasant. While the news had been kept quiet among the knowledgeable parties, the members of EPTO knew....knew enough to know that something dire had indeed transpired. Smiling politely, Vaeda found herself standing outside and looking at the few Rezeilian guards stationed around the building. Their mere presence should have reassured her that all was under control, but it only reminded her of how little control she or Mahanoy had over the situation. All she wanted to know was a simple answer, yes or no? But even then, part of her did not want to know, was unsure if it could accept the news should it be the worst. Leaning against the building she stood there and looked out, as motionless as the guard nearest her. Whatever they could find appealing enough to stare at for hours on end, she too imagined she could at that moment. And so she did, fixating her stare on a window of the building across the distance. She caught the world through it, the birds that flew by, the people that passed, clouds above....everything she watched through the images on the glass. A life lived through another perception. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Oct 16 2010, 05:10:13 AM Post #6 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Reiser. The scream penetrated his mind, someone outside, someone witnessing the event, someone watching in horror as they witnessed a life passed before their eyes. The crunch of metal surrounded him, immured him within his steel composite coffin. Shattered glass danced in the air, catching the light, sparkling like a deadly rain in an afternoon sunshower moments before it drove itself into his skin. And his head at first in intense pain before the immediate cessation of everything when it hit the window that was wrapped around a pole....driven into a compressed wreck by the speed of another vehicle. Novac could scarcely reason why it had all come back to him at that moment. In fact, he was beginning to think that it all might have been another fabrication of his mind if it were not for Lachdanan's firm handshake bringing it all together in his mind. He had parted from the man and was going.....to Mahanoy? No, Carbonis. Diehl was injured....no, Rumvalsky was dead, killed in a helicopter crash on the mission to the Arctic. He was watching his wife....no, the children playing at the playground before the accident. It was an accident, wasn't it? No....he heard the voices, murmured conversations somewhere it was a suspected terrorist attack. Mahanoy was the target....no, no, he was certain it was not. It was EPTO, they were the target. Trying to force himself up, he found his body still non-compliant with his demands. "Reiser. Secure the facility. Link me to your team. We need to secure the city. The east side will be used as our evacuation route, it has the greatest degree of flexibility and natural protection. The attack came from the north. They might try to drive us south and trap us. Stay to the north east. They will not anticipate a move towards them. Command your men to move in. We need to take control now. They will expect the shock of the situation to impair our judgment. We must act immediately," Novac ordered, before he realized that no words issued from his mouth. He was still motionless on the bed, still unable to move. No. It was the cold order to himself, the refusal to admit that there was nothing he could do at that moment. Forcing his mind to act, he again tried to raise body. Still it remained motionless, his own breathing controlled externally from a machine next to him. He tried to move just a finger and found that it too remained still. He tried to steal a breath on his own but found his lungs resistant to his mental commands. Forcing open his eyes, he found that brightness burned them. It took several minutes to regain his vision until the tears and blurred vision from a gel kept to protect his eyes from drying washed themselves free. He looked out for the first time.....the room was bright, not what he expected. He anticipated a dimmed room, but when a face peeked over him he realized that he was not alone. "Novac? Can you hear me?" "Yes," Novac's mouth was unable to form the words. The tube down his throat, the inability to control his own muscle movements, everything working against his abilities at that moment preventing him from responding. "His eyes are open," the medic above him responded back to someone else in the room, a person far outside of his vision. "Is he responsive?" a man's voice responded. "Difficult to tell, sir. He seems to be watching me, but it could be reflexive. Say something else." "Like what?" "Just that," the voice laughed with a smile, "he is responsive. He is trying to see you sir. Come take a look. He is awake. I am afraid though that his injuries may be severe. It does not appear he has control over most of his body. I know we reserve a lot of these specialized treatments for Archangel's only, but perhaps you should speak to the Colonel about authorizing full treatment to try to restore some nervous system function. Once the swelling in has gone down completely, the sooner we begin those treatments, the better the prognosis." "Yes sir," the voice of a man nearing him sounded as another medic appeared in his field of vision. "Would you look at that!? Welcome back General!" the man laughed seeing that Novac was trying to visually locate the people speaking nearest to him. "I would say that is indeed responsive. General, blink once if you understand me." Novac stared for a moment, trying to understand the words, trying to put together what this man was asking of him before he realized the medic was attempting to establish a line of communication. He would have silently grinned if he could, respecting the man for the basic comprehension of field operations. Forcing his eyes to respond, Novac closed his eyes hard and reopened them, meeting again a new wave of tears outside of his control from the motion. "Glad you made it General. Colonel Uth Reiser will want an update. You are lucky to have him on your side there General. Whatever you said to impress the man might have just saved your life," the medic laughed, knowing that any man who earned himself these national security protective measures reserved only for Archangels had to have been a man worthy of protecting. Reiser. Again the name replayed itself in Novac's mind. And it began to make more sense. Reiser.....Colonel Uth Reiser.... Supreme Commander, First Blade of the Empire, and Exiled Emperor of Irem.....it was his last words to the man. He was in The Grand Duchy. He was under their protection. He was indeed gravely injured, but he was safe. He would be safe. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to rest, feeling more at peace with the idea that he was not being held against his will, detained for the purpose of information extraction. While he wanted to command the situation, make sure that EPTO was protected first and foremost, he had to resign himself to the fact there was nothing he could command right now, save for his ability to blink yes or no. And if he was in The Grand Duchy, he could anticipate that Lachdanan had already seized control of the situation and brought order to the chaos. EPTO would be secured, Vaeda protected, and TEP's best interests maintained. It was all he could ask for at that moment. "Should we-"...."Let him rest. He needs it." The conversation ended in his mind as Novac slipped into a restful sleep. OOC: Rez, make the time skip however long you want it. It could be days, weeks, months that it too Novac to finally awake. Whatever works best for you is fine with me. Novac is responding like it was minutes after the accident mentally, but he does not realize how much time he was out. ![]() |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Oct 21 2010, 03:39:10 AM Post #7 |
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Cool like Snakes
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"What happened?" Damon asked, feeling the physical exhaustion in his body and yet despite it there was the feeling of new life flowing through him. "The General will update you," a soldier responded guiding the unsteady man to his feet. "Novac? I'm in Mahanoy?" Damon asked, looking around the room with a sudden apprehension of where he was and what had just happened to him. Examining his cold bare skin, he looked for external signs of something implanted with him. Suspecting the worse, Damon became slightly crestfallen as he saw his arm once again had fresh stitches. The response met laughter from many of the soldiers who shook their heads and assisted him into hospital pants and a gown. "Terebyeva. You have a meeting with General Terebyeva in five minutes." "Carbonis?" Damon asked confused, again looking to the soldiers before him. They could have passed for Mahanionians. But Terebyeva had denounced Mahanoy when the Elites went into hiding. There was no way he would come back to Mahanoy, not unless.... "Come, he will be waiting for you. Let us help you. You are still unsteady and it will be several hours before that effect wears off." Supporting Damon, they carefully walked him outside to a waiting car, watching him closely for residual effects of the revival process. And all the while Damon walked slowly, staring off blankly and grimacing in pain as he continued to shiver. His cold pale skin still had not regained its usual color and he looked more and more like a walking corpse than the Elite he was born to be. But he was there, alive, walking, and talking albeit unsteadily. Terebyeva was standing there awaiting the car with the stern patience of a commanding officer by the time they arrived. He watched as the soldiers carefully assisted Damon out of the car. The man looked like death, that much was obvious, but he was alive and he had survived one of their most aggressive treatments. Smiling to himself, he was impressed with the man's endurance. He was certainly the Elite born child everyone was talking about. There was no doubt in his mind now that the rumors were true. "Thank you men. I will take him from here. You may return to your posts," Terebyeva responded as he took Damon carefully, supporting the man's weight as the others had done. Damon on the other hand looked up, more fixated on the impressive building before him. The black monolith before him was a testament to human engineering and architecture. He had seen this style before but his tired weak memory could not recall where. These black monoliths were a symbol, a sign of something important....and even as he shivered in the presence of it, he began to feel a foreboding feeling arise within him....as if he were walking into a pit of hell. It was not until Terebyeva was guiding him in the opened door that he heard the roar of a plane above him that he realized just where he was. A moment of concern took him with the sudden realization of where he had just walked into but the doors closed behind and he knew that in that moment, he was at the mercy of this man. And he could only now hope that Terebyeva was one of the good guys. "Why did you bring me here?" Damon asked, his voice still shaking and his gait unsteady. "Where else did you expect to be? You are Diehl's son....did you honestly think we would hold you anywhere else?" Terebyeva asked, cautiously eying Damon with a suspicious glance. So that is what this is about.... Falling silent, his only survival mechanism in this situation, he allowed the General's firm grasp on him to guide him along the clean corridors as everyone stopped and nodded at their presence. It was almost as if they all anticipated his arrival and were welcoming him, but the omnipotently ominous presence of this building could not reassure him that he was much welcomed here. Feeling a slight tremor in his left hand, Damon broke his silence to look back to the General. "What happened?" Remaining in motion, Terebyeva continued to hold onto Damon firmly, "We brought you back to life. You were found in the Arctic nearly frozen to death. We had to rapidly revive you given the circumstances. The process is still in its experimental phase however and we anticipate-" Terebyeva guided Damon to the ground as he began to seize, his body twitching outside of his control. "This." Within seconds several armed soldiers were at his side, supporting Damon and holding him on his side until the wave passed. Holding out the prefilled syringe, the soldier nearest Terebyeva looked at Damon. "Let us see if he passes through this on his own. If he can remain conscious, I would prefer he do so," Terebyeva's voice now softened as he never took his eyes off Damon, watching the young man closely for signs of a need to medicate him. When the wave passed in under three minutes, he assisted Damon to a sitting position slowly. "We expected that," he informed Damon as he reached out for the change of clothing from one of the soldiers, "here, let us get you changed." Lacking the energy to fight the men, Damon allowed them all to assist him into the new change of clothing. He hung his head in his hand as he continued to sit there, feeling the trembling settle slowly. "How many times are we going to have to do this?" Damon asked with his head still hung as he felt the pain augment in his head. "Most people experience five grand mal seizures within an hour of the revival process and intermittent seizures for one to two days after the initial treatment. We can reasonably expect you to experience at least two more grand mal seizures," Terebyeva answered truthfully as he crouched aside of Damon. "And my memory? Will I regain that or will these seizures increase the likelihood I will not remember what happened?" Damon asked in the same apathetic tone. Terebyeva laughed, "Diehl. We may have not eliminated these quirks, but you of all people should know we already took the precautions to protect your mind. Your mind is one of the most powerful weapons in Mahanoy. Only a fool would do anything to jeopardize your memory and ability to process new information. We safeguarded your mind already. The reason you your memory is impaired at the moment is because of the drugs we are using to protect your brain from damage." The thought should have reassured Damon, but it only brought with another wave of uncertainty. What were they planning to do with him? They were clever, no doubt. Being former Mahanionians, they were intelligent, cunning, and had all their bases covered. Whatever they were planning, no doubt they might have anticipated him to retaliate at some point, which would explain the armed soldiers. Knowing his best defense at the moment was to go along with them to learn more, he managed to nod and allowed himself to be helped up once again. With the shaking in his body more pronounced, he allowed Terebyeva to guide him down into the depths of the building. Both remained silent, analyzing the other, waiting for the other to make the first move. It was Terebyeva who broke the silence this time as he carefully watched Damon, "you are shaking." Damon looked down, surprised that his hands, both of his hands, were shaking uncontrollably. Staring at the shaking in his right hand, he suddenly looked up to Terebyeva who still held him firmly but stared out at the wall of the elevator before them. Did he deliberately mean to call his attention to it? He was beginning to see the man in a new light when he felt the tremors in his left hand again. And again several minutes must have passed before he found himself on the floor surrounded by soldiers and Terebyeva crouching again beside him. "Thank you," Terebyeva responded as he extended back a syringe to the soldier while Damon tried to catch sight of whether or not they had used it. Was it getting worse or better? Trying to pick himself up this time, he felt his body much more sluggish than before and felt the forceful hands keeping him down. "Rest a while. There is no rush," the commanding voice of the General sounded. But the words slowed in Damon's mind as he looked around, the black uniforms and overhead lights blurring into a dichotomy. Light and dark. Good and evil. Life and death. It was all mixing in his head as he again found himself restrained in an attempt to sit up. Shielding his eyes from the light, Damon rested his head back on the cold ground, beginning to tire of being so helpless in front of these men, these men who all seemed to consider it some sort of twisted honor to be there helping him. And he realized he must have fallen asleep because as he once again awoke, he found himself in a new change of clothing and the soldiers around him talking and chatting, unaware that he was awake. Remaining motionless, he used the opportunity to try to learn more about the situation, but no one was talking about him. They were talking about experimental chemicals, about a current mission, about the celebration tonight for the completion of the Integrated Exicon Weapons Analysis System. Who were these people? Groaning as he attempted to sit, he found strong hands almost immediately assisting him up. Terebyeva was again there, crouching down and holding out a glass of clear liquid, presumably water. Extending his shaking hands to take it, he was surprised when Terebyeva allowed him to attempt to drink it himself. "You should not be drinking right now, but I think we can make an exception." "Thank you," Damon's trembling hand brought the glass to his lips as he sipped the ice cold liquid, spilling it down himself in the process. But he could not care, could not care about the mess, could not care about the potential for poison, could not care about another drug infused in this cocktail. All he wanted to do was regain a sense of normalcy and control over his own body. And if they brought him a liquid death, he could almost welcome it at this moment, anything was better than this experience. "Two?" Damon asked, trying to keep count of how many more of these episodes he would have. "Three," Terebyeva corrected, "you had another one shortly after the second." Damon nodded, he should have expected that, but at that moment, he was unable to think very well. Finishing half the glass and accidentally spilling the other half on himself, he handed the empty glass to Terebyeva who handed it back to a soldier and helped him back onto his feet. And while the man's intentions were not clear, Damon no longer cared enough to question his motives and fully allowed Terebyeva to support his weight and guide him along. His mind was tired and sluggish, his body in fatigued and in pain. He wanted to sleep and even if this man had the most horrific plans for him, Damon could scarcely muster the concern over his own well-being. At that moment, there was nothing in his mind that they could do to make him feel worse than he already had. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 1 2010, 11:13:18 AM Post #8 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Maximum Security Cell Block, Carbonis Complex, Sector 0, Mahanoy Bright light shone around her, the source of the specific bulb obscured giving the appearance that the room was a single source of light. Selvala's vision burned as she tried to shield her vision from the brightness. For a moment, she thought perhaps this was the afterlife that was so often talked about in all those stories and fables, that all of this was the bright light that one saw on the verge of death. But the pain from her Alleghenian prison abuse reminded her she was alive and this artificial brightness was created as an illusion. Sitting up, she found herself on a cold slab of highly polished metal. It only took a few seconds to take in the entire room. The sterile appearance of it gave her the impression that she was in a lab being studied. And while she spent the first hour of her consciousness in this new facility, she began to remember why she was here. Those damn Mahanionians. No sooner did that thought strike her when doors blinked open, allowed the entry of the stone walled face of those black uniformed man. He seemed so out of place in that room of brightness yet still very much perfectly aligned as if the illusion were to create that very specific dichotomy. "The General wants to meet with you. Follow me," he commanded, his words almost mechanical in nature. She wanted to protest but she had no idea where she was. Rationalizing that any opportunity to leave the sterile room might lead to a possible escape, Selvala decided to follow his orders. Standing up she noticed for the first time that she was dressed in her formal wear, official clothing she would only dress in during premier events in Vekaiyu. It would have disturbed her had the man in front of her not left the room expecting her to follow. She remarked at the nothingness this man had. For a moment she could have mistaken him for a robot had it not before the breathing and other obvious human mannerisms. He was lifeless though as he walked before her, something deep in the man having been eliminated long ago and his existence now seemed only to walk through the motions. She almost pitied him, having seen this look on some of the most lost vulpine men and women of her nation until she remembered that he was a human and his existence was inferior. Walking through the corridors, she was lead to a door flanked by six armed soldiers two of which never took their aim from her. Again she felt the repulsion at these disgusting creatures augment within her and yet again it was short-lived by the events going on around her. The doors were opened and with it came the smell of old blood. Her trained senses picked up the smell and despite her proud nature she felt a sense of foreboding at what was waiting within that room. Sticking her nose up in the air, she carried herself with a sense of pride and dignity. She would never let these pathetic humans see her fear. She looked for someone behind the desk and found no one. Scanning the room quickly she thought she would see someone standing in a corner, tucking away from vision, waiting to surprise her. But no one was there, the room was indeed empty. It was laughter behind her that suddenly caught her off guard and before she could turn herself around to meet the source a strong hand grabbed her hair and pinned her head in front of her. "Who were you expecting?" the voice was dark, menacing, evil. It was a voice that failed to show contempt for it had no regard for life in any form as it laughed at Selvala's foolishness. It had anticipated she would plot an escape, lunge for the man to hold him hostage, anything to regain her freedom or die trying to receive it and it planted itself right in the least expected place. Fighting against the grip, she tried to pull away but the man held a firm grip on her. The more she fought the more at ease his control seemed to be. "Do you know where you are?" he asked, leaning forward and whispering in her ear. But her pride took control and she refused to play into his games. He wanted to see fear and she would not give him that. "Fuck you," she challenged, "if you were half the man you are pretending to be, you would show your face." "I have something even better to show you," the voice challenged back, meeting her tit for tat. Pulling her hard, he dragged her backwards through the corridors she just passed through until she met a crossroads. Moving backwards through the complex she found herself outside and in the moment she was about to fight, she was thrust forward before a set of grandiose doors. As she stood on the stage oblivious of the graveyard she was standing in, she could not help but remark at those doors....the mysterious allure it drew. "Any national leader who is executed in Mahanoy dies here. Remember this place. The next time you see those doors will be when you die." The threat meant nothing to her. She was used to this type of abuse. In fact, she laughed in response to this man's attempts to strike fear into her. Whatever he was attempting to gain, she immediately dispelled in her laughter. They had failed. They all would fail. They had no idea what they were up against. "Why do you hide if you make threats? You are a coward. All you Mahanionians are weak." She waited for the blow to come but found that the man released her instead of striking her. Part of her was unsurprised when it never came, she almost expected them to be full of talk. Turning around to meet the man before her, she was surprised to find that he was now alone. No men had accompanied him out here. "Who are you?" she asked, more interested that this man had spent much time planning the illusion of security to only now be unarmed and standing before her unwilling to fight. "My name is Brandon Dinardeau," he spoke, extending his gloved hand, "and I believe you and I have more in common than either of us wants to admit. We seem to have the same goals and the same nuisances. I am willing to let you live granted you return the favor to me. I will discuss the details of that favor later when you have come to trust me. Right now I can see that you do not wish to trust me and to prove that you and I can work together, I will grant you a phone call. Return to my office and you can dial any number you like," he spoke, motioning to Selvala's freedom as he stood there, "and if you want to run, now would be unwise. Mahanoy is sectored. You would not make it through our security clearances without the proper help. The choice is your's Selvala." |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Todd McCloud | Nov 3 2010, 01:48:28 AM Post #9 |
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Planet Telox
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“Of course I wouldn’t make it through your damn security clearances,” Selvala sneered. “You were smart enough to not give me a weapon.” She paced around the door. “I only have three choices, really. I could call Ikrisia the meek and find out how she’s ruining Vekaiyu. I can only guess. Let’s see… war, killing, corrupting the nation with human blood… no, I already know what she’s doing over there. I could call on the ball-less Gordon and call him out for hiding his testicles between his legs and not doing anything to stop this illegal transfer. But if the size of his balls is any correlation to the size of his brain, I won’t get anywhere. Then there’s Stapen. Motherfucking Stapen. I never knew a person who failed at everything, even dying. I don’t want to talk to him as much as I want to strangle him.” She arched an eyebrow and turned to Brandon. The movement appeared to be a mixture of question and anger. “But I guess my main question is to you. Why? Why would I want to call any of those fools? To see what new thing they’ve managed to fail at? Oh wait, no. They won’t tell me that. They’ll perfume it up and sprinkle in a dash of spin and condemn something I did.” She tapped a finger on the bottom of her muzzle in thought. “Maybe it’s to see if someone will rescue me here. Well, I’m not one to be rescued. I fight for my own fucking self.” Smirking, Selvala stopped pacing and stepped forward toward Brandon. “And let you live?” She laughed, her chuckles filling the room. “I’m unarmed. I pose no threat to you. You mean to tell me you’re afraid of me? It’s time to grow up and be a man, Mr. Dinardeau. Time to not be afraid of the scary fox people who ruin your whole perspective of a shallow world. Or… what is that one fairy tale? Big bad wolf? Who’s afraid of big bad wolf? Huh? Would that be you?” |
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"Your uniform doesn't seem to fit. You're much too alive in it." "You must be the change you want to see in the world" - Gandhi "The worst prison would be a closed heart." - Pope John Paul II Vekaiyu's Wiki Page | Ikrisia Levinile's Wiki Page | Listonia's Wiki Page | |
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 7 2010, 10:35:09 AM Post #10 |
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Cool like Snakes
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The fourth seizure passed with relative ease and Damon found himself fighting back this time around. He felt the tremor ascend and again felt Terebyeva hold him and ease him onto the floor. For a moment he thought his entire mind would go blank again as his body convulsed on the cold stone floor. But when he found that he could grab ahold of it this time and fight back, his mind willing the convulsions to stop, he found that he did not entirely lose control. Several minutes of enduring the tremors and convulsions passed until Damon regained complete control over his body again. He sat up much to Terebyeva's surprise, who held his hand back to keep the advancing soldier from coming to detain Damon. "Impressive, young man," Mitkä responded, offering his hand to Damon. Damon took it, holding it firmly for support as he pulled his weak and tired body up. Again Terebyeva supported him, but it seemed he did it more as a precautionary step than an anticipatory expectation. Looking to Terebyeva, Damon no longer could resist the question forming in his mind, "why am I here?" "It seems all men wonder that at some point in their lives. I would have assumed you of all people would have an answer to that question already," Terebyeva answered, his gaze again locked on the step before him. "You know what I mean," Damon insisted, knowing that the man was deliberately avoiding his question. "Not now Diehl," the voice was cold and dark, ordering him silent in front of the entourage that followed. And Damon found himself obliging. Rather than fight against them now, he only wanted to rest, put his head down and sleep. The exhaustion took over and the pain intensified. He could feel the shattered bones in his arm reminding him that he was but a puppet in life and the effects of that imprisonment took their hold. So naturally, it was to everyone's surprise when Damon collapsed, barely caught by Terebyeva who hit the ground hard in an attempt to keep Damon from hitting his head. "DIEHL!" his voice ordered, insisting the man awake. When Damon did not respond Terebyeva moved into a crouching position beside the man, ordering a light. He held open Damon's eye, flashing the light, the pupil unresponsive as his eyes seemed to stare at nothing before them. "Boss, what is it?" a soldier asked, joining Mitkä. "An unexpected response," Terebyeva responded as he attempted to shake Damon. Others in the group responded, the commands never needing to be given as everyone did their part to assist in the event. "What happened?" a medic asked, arriving and crouching beside Damon with Mitkä. "He collapsed. I caught him before he hit his head, but he is unresponsive," Mitkä spoke, remaining at Damon's side even as the medic began examining him. "Any precipitating events." "None. He was in discussion just seconds before he lost consciousness." "The medications you gave him, any reaction to them at the time?" "None that we noticed." "Was he complaining of pain?" Pain. The word ignited within his mind the answer and Mitkä almost stared petrified at the man before him. He had read the psychological profile of Damon, had analyzed this young man in every report he had read. Still nothing prepared him for the reality of the words he had read time and time again, he will lose consciousness if his pain threshold exceeds his coping resources. "Treat his pain," Terebyeva ordered, standing up and looking down at Damon as the medic slowly injected the young man. He had never even seen Damon respond to the pain and all along it was slowly building. And within several minutes, the medic rechecked Damon's responsiveness, finding that his pupils did in fact react well to light. More so, he was shocked when Damon suddenly threw him to his side, rolled backwards, away from them, and pushed himself up with one arm. Terebyeva moved slowly looking into Damon's eyes. Eyes that had the same intensity Terebyeva had before seen burning in another powerful Mahanionian. "Damon," Terebyeva held up his hands in a sign of surrender, "we are not here to hurt you." "What do you want with me?" Damon ordered, a second wind taking him. "To show you the future," Terebyeva responded, the soldiers behind Mitkä not yet removing their rifles and taking aim on Damon. "Then why-" Damon hit the ground before another could reach him. His body convulsed, twitching outside of his control, as he stared at the light above him, the light that seemed to blur itself in his mind. He saw only Terebyeva's face break it as the man came to his side and rolled him over, holding him in place. And when he awoke, it was dark. No lights were on and only the faint smell of vodka seemed to penetrate his senses. He groaned and with that he saw the movements of another in the room, someone who had been sitting still the entire time. "You are awake," the voice did not identify itself. "Where...." Damon did not finish the sentence, no longer wanting an answer to his questions. "I moved you to my quarters," the voice jarred in Damon memories a face he last remembered seeing. "You drink?" Damon asked, pulling himself shakily into a sitting position. "On occasions like this," Terebyeva responded, moving closer to Damon and taking a seat before him, his image obscured mostly by the darkness of the room. "What is the occasion?" Damon asked, failing to pick up the reference. "I had too high of hopes for you Damon," Mitkä confessed, his voice slightly crestfallen, "I was wrong to push you so hard. I knew your limitations but I thought I could push them under the circumstances." "I do not understand," the words seemed slurred and Mitkä watched as Damon rested his head in his hands, evidently staving off the headache he was undoubtedly having. "You have an extensive psychological profile and I was given access to it when Novac authorized your latest mission. You evidently anticipated something would happen and I was curious to know the man who could foresee his own downfall. When I read your profile, I became aware of much of what was recorded to have happened to you. They pushed you to your limits....they recorded the results. I thought given that I was not beating you, I could take you further. I failed to understand that you would hide your own pain like you were trained to do," Terebyeva took a drink from the glass. The smell of the alcohol nauseated Damon, his head a screaming vengeance with each of Terebyeva's words. But even with the pain, he could detect a missing element to the man's story. "Then why are you drinking?" "The man I saw before you took your last seizure reminded me of friend I lost," Mitkä answered. "My father," Damon answered, disappointed that this whole situation was again about his father. Taking Damon's arm, Terebyeva injected him with another medication, surprised that Damon did not resist....as if the man had accepted that they would do whatever they liked to him. Pulling Damon up, he again held the man with the same anticipation that Damon would collapse on him again. And it was not until they walked down a series of unlit corridors and entered what Damon knew to be a large room based on the sounds that seemed to disappear as they walked along that Terebyeva spoke again, "Dante." Damon looked to him despite the darkness, "What about him?" "It was not your father that you reminded me of, it was Dante." And with that Mitkä clicked something in his hand and the lights of the room slowly turned on, revealing a rather expansive room, stretching beyond the eye, lined with planes he had never seen before even in the top Mahanionian bases. "Who are you?" Damon asked again noticing that the lights did not inflame his mind and again looking at Terebyeva in a new light, seeing something in the man that he had hidden the entire time. "My name is Mitkä Terebyeva. You know me as a Carbonis general. I am one of the founding members of the Carbonis Corporation and it was I who built that plane you fly. CCTM 0065 is my product name. I was contracted by your father when you detailed a list of specific qualifications for your plane. I have to say, that was one of the most challenging projects I had engaged in. A combat plane that operates in space and on earth; even with our best technology that was an impressive feat to accomplish. No doubt you realized this because the theoretical plan you included was precise, even if some mechanical details were slightly off. I have to admit, I read your request and thought you were joking until I built the first test model to your specifications and it worked." "And you brought me here to introduce yourself?" Damon asked, respecting the man before him but still questioning the man's intentions. "No, being recognized for my work is not important. I brought you here because I need you to give something to your father. No one will question a transfer of this kind. You came to Carbonis because of an order that brought your incapacitated body to my doorstep. They will not anticipate that I rushed your revival process just so we could have this meeting and I could pass off a transfer. This is how we must operate now Damon, in the shadows," Terebyeva seemed relaxed, less formal that he had appeared all day. "Who is we?" Damon asked, trying to analyze what Mitkä was referring to. "The Elites Damon. We are more alive than you realize. This base has become a collecting ground for hiding and fleeing Elites. We have several prominent Elite leaders here right now, you met about six of them during the transition down here. Your father ordered a specific comm system to be developed and passed onto him. The anticipated completion date of the project was next year, but we completed the project much sooner than expected by having a breakthrough in another project that helped the energy source of this comm system. I wanted to ensure he receives his system as soon as possible, the reasons he needs it are to organize a movement against this shadow government. He had an extensive plan and creating this system was crucial to success of it." "Why are you asking me to help?" Again Damon seemed on edge as he knew the direction this conversation seemed to be heading. "Well you know what he plans. You can deliver this to him. You know better than anyone where he is right now. I know he looked up to you, spoke very highly of your abilities. No doubt he would appreciate you of all people bringing him this system," Mitkä responded with a smile while gently patting Damon on the back. "Well I don't." The response was cold, thrown at Mitkä like a cold knife driven into the ribcage. "Diehl?" "Stop calling me that," Damon again responded with the same cold response before turning and looking into Mitkä. "You brought me here, put me through a brutal revival, blocked my memory, let me endure several many hours of misery just to tell me that you have a package for my father? What makes you think I know where my father is?" "You are an Elite, are you not?" Mitkä asked, now confused with the outburst Damon was having. Grabbing his head with the return of the headache, Damon forced himself to continue making eye contact, "NO! I am not an Elite. Stop treating me like I have a fucking clue what you are talking about. I was never an Elite. My father never talked to me about his missions. I have no idea where he is right now or what he is even doing. I am not an Elite....never was....and never will be," he snapped before watched the tremor return to his hand. It was Mitkä who moved towards him, anticipating the need to assist him, but Damon pushed himself away. "No," Damon ordered, refusing to let the seizure take hold. Fighting against his mind, he focused his energy on keeping control of his muscles. And when Damon again fell to the ground in a fit of convulsions, Mitkä began to realize that this man was serious and all the official reports were wrong. Damon was hiding no truth, keeping a secret about his training. His father did not grant him any special privileges or train him in the life of an Elite. Even if the man was impressive, what he knew no doubt came from his own studies and less from formal Elite training. Damon's own response should have confirmed it, nothing preprogrammed as he might have expected an Elite to react with, but he wanted to believe the reports, wanted to believe this was the future of the Elites....the son to take his father's legacy. Disappointed at how terribly wrong he had been, he again crouched aside of Damon and rolled the man onto his side, watching as Damon twitched and seized outside of his control. No, Damon was right, there was nothing spectacular or extraordinary about him that made him better than the rest. Five seizures within the hour. Periodic seizures for twenty four hours. It was the expected norm and Damon just reminded him that he too would fall to the norm despite what everyone else seemed to think about him. When Damon came around again, he was alone, lying in the same clothes he had been in. He had no idea how long he had been out for this time and no way to tell. The large cavernous room he was in was silent, seemingly no one within it, not even the man from before, Terebyeva was it? He stared at the planes and had a sense of déjà vu as he remarked that they were planes Mahanoy had never seen. Everything about this room had a vague sense of déjà vu to it, like he was here before. But he could not have been because his last memory was a blurred conversation about seizures with a man named Terebyeva, a Carbonite General. Sitting up, Damon felt his head ache. He was a mess and scarcely cared at that moment about how pathetic he felt. Climbing to his feet, he wavered, walking over to the planes to inspect them. They were new, definitely unlike anything he was used to working with, but similar to the design of his plane. Running his hand along the side, he remarked at the difference. The contours of the metal, the texture, the smoothness and temperature....they were all different. Was this a new material? It was then he heard the sound of footsteps enter the room and he quickly stopped inspecting the plane to see a hard-pressed man walk towards him....it was the man he remembered vaguely from earlier and he looked at the man who now seemed to advert his eyes from Damon. "I brought you a change of clothes. I will take you to my quarters where you can shower and change." "This plane," Damon asked, "what is it made of?" The man seemed to question whether he should respond or remain silent, but seeing Damon's own interest he reluctantly gave into his own reservations and smiled softly, "I see you are interested. This is a new discovery. Came from beneath the sea here in The East Pacific. We are not quite sure if it is specifically a metal, but we found it works well for aerial support and transitions between the atmospheres. I took your design, revamped it to incorporate this new material, tested it, and found that speed was enhanced by 13%. We created a few others to test this and all pilots are experiencing the same results dramatic increase in speed...if only our pilots could tolerate the speeds they reach," Mitkä laughed, "we had to remote access these babies a few time because a pilot lost consciousness. Not that we can remote access fly them, but it keeps the plane in the air long enough until the pilot regains control." Standing before the plane Damon seemed to analyze it, critically evaluating the effectiveness of it. Mitkä again smiled, the man may have been no Elite by training and title, but he had the passion and heart for the job. Placing his hand on Damon's back, Terebyeva walked him along the room, showing him their latest developments. Despite knowing the truth, he felt he could trust the man, felt he could help the man. But the call from Mahanoy had come and Mitkä struggled to refrain from showing his own disappointment. They would kill the man and this may be his last moment of freedom before that moment. "Damon, I do not usually do this for outsiders, but tell you what. Clean up, rest a little, and when you are feeling up to it, I will let you take one out for a test flight." Looking to Mitkä, Damon seemed to critically evaluate him, "but why?" he asked, skeptic that the man would consider letting him pilot this new plane. "Damon....you are one of Mahanoy's best pilots and their youngest Runner. If anyone can fly one of these puppies and not pass out, it is you. I want to see how a real Mahanionian combat pilot operates one. It would be one hell of a test and I am sure you would have a few thoughts to contribute to the advancement of the design," Terebyeva offered with a wink, guiding Damon back to his quarters. The quarters were clean, simple, almost empty as if the only time this General came back to them was to bathe and sleep and evidently occasionally drink as the half filled glass of what smelled like vodka sat unfinished on a table nearby the bed. Getting himself together was no easy task and Damon found that his right arm seemed to respond to basic commands. Taking several moments to ponder these possibilities, Damon watched as he was capable of lifting the arm with his left arm, holding them at the same height. No more did it remain limply at his side. The scar remained though, the mark that he had nearly been a dead man not but a year ago. The assassin's bullet....the reminder he was a marked man. Dressed and standing in the empty room, Damon again waited for Terebyeva for a few moments, but decided to backtrack his way to the empty room anticipating perhaps the man was waiting for him. But the room was empty, Terebyeva no where to be found, his previous mess long since cleaned up. Seeing two planes sitting out, he examined one of them again, evaluating the contours and design. It was then he again heard the footfalls of the man and turned to find the General behind him. "Ready to go?" Terebyeva asked, forcing a friendly approach that went undetected by Damon who was more distracted by the shiny toy in front of him. "With your permission," Damon responded. Motioning to enter, Terebyeva walked around the plane and entered the other plane, guiding Damon along the facility to an internal runway that already was open to the outside. As both took off, Damon could already feel the differences, the plane moved with an ease and speed that seemed much more natural than the forced mechanically created speed of his plane. Adapting to the adjustment, he reached a cruising altitude with Terebyeva, flying alongside the man until the man banked left suddenly, leaving him in the air alone. "Show us what you have," Mitkä's voice came over the communication system and Damon flashed a grin to himself as he pushed the plane to almost a vertical climb. The plane moved much easier than his own and testing its abilities, he pulled it into a spin, feeling the pull on his body as he broke through. For a moment he was weightless.....the darkness spreading all around him. And he lost himself in it, pushing the plane to go further into it. He wanted to eject himself at that moment, push out and reach out to touch one of those burning specks so very far away. He was free. There was not a man, not a soul, not a nation nor a government that could order him to do anything. No man could touch him here. No person break him. He was free, free to float and wonder aimlessly. But the soft vision and smile of a blonde haired woman flashed in his mind and he reacted before he realized, entering the atmosphere with a speed that threatened to break him. "Damon. You are coming in fast. Too fast," the voice warned. But Damon embraced it, challenged it, dared it to break him as he took the plane into a spin. And below, the Carbonites observed as he seemed to play a game with them all half a world away. Concluding that the man ether had a death wish or serious thrill issues, they prepared to remotely access the plane, anticipating having to take control momentarily. Pushing the plane and himself, Damon fought the rush to his head, the pain in his body, the threatening of his heart to stop if he did not slow down. Even though the oxygen was provided to him, his lungs threatened to stop breathing in protest. His entire body seemed to revolt against it and Damon pushed, challenging the speed they said would be impossible. And when he spiraled down at them like a moth on its suicide plunge, they attempted to gain access, only to find Damon had locked the system. "Rule one to being a Runner. Keep everyone out," Damon spoke as he sped towards them, breaking the distance in record time. "Never anticipate your limits. Set new ones," Damon repeated, speaking a mantra that was uttered only by those who set the bar for Elite Empire standards. "Never quit. When you reach the point of breaking, break yourself before you quit." His voice came through and as his plane rapidly approached Carbonis from across The East Pacific, they began to stare in wonder at the Mahanionian before them. It was Terebyeva who came up behind Damon, appearing from the right. "Always expect the unexpected," Damon spoke, pulling his own plane into a spin, refusing to reduce his speed in the presence of a higher ranking officer. But the communication system went dead and only Terebyeva's breathing matched with his own came over, "I knew you were an exceptional man. It pains me to say this Damon, but I was ordered to kill you. So I am going to rely on your superior flight skills, fire three shots, and hope that you are the man I believe you to be," he offered as Damon already dodged the first missile. "Who?" Damon asked, refusing to reduce speed even at personal toll it was taking and with the certain death that would follow him losing consciousness at this moment. "Damon, you are no Elite. You taught me that tonight, but that is not going to stop an entire Empire from believing that. They want you dead. They have wanted you dead. Your entire profile details their attempts to kill you. You may be no Elite, and you may only carry the name Diehl, but you are no Diehl even. The man you are is someone we once respected and trusted to lead our nations against the most formidable of foes. And one day, I hope to serve under your command. But right now, I do not, and when the orders say eliminate Diehl. I am going to follow them. You know who I am. You know I am an Elite General. You know I have an entire base operating and protecting Elite preservation. You may not remember now, but your memory will return to you in seven hours. If I do not go along with this order and make an honest attempt to eliminate you, that will all be exposed and everything I have been working for gone." "Terebyeva," Damon responded, but the man fired another missile and pulling into a dive, Damon barely avoided the man's accurate aim. Couple with the speed, Damon felt his vision blacken, seeing the blackness begin in his periphery. Fighting it, he pushed himself to continue on his path until Terebyeva unexpectedly cut aside of him forcing him to turn around quickly, heading the opposite direction. "Damon. An order came in from Vaeda Desanti to meet her in Allegheny at the location I programmed into your plane. Use the access code of 7234JKA-943 and Interceptor code D82E2100-362. You will no doubt avoid my last shot and I will inevitably pass out from this speed shortly after. You will meet her and find out what she wants. It is your only way to avoid them. Stay out of Mahanoy as long as possible and Damon...." the words became more rapid, the General fighting his own body as his breathing picked up more heavily, "please....come....visit.....you are.....welcome....." the shot fired and again Damon barely avoided the missile as he whipped to the side of it as it grazed past him. But Terebyeva fell silent and he turned to watch Terebyeva's plane dip, plummeting rapidly towards the ground, just as the man predicted his own fate. He wanted to turn around, ensure that the man made it to safety, but he planned for this happen and the orders were clear....go forward. This is my gift to you. As he rapidly entered the Alleghenian airspace, still fighting the effects of the speed, he gave the access codes before heading to the location listed. It was a tiny humble house in a quiet small neighborhood and if it was not for the mission that came across a screen on the plane, he would have passed over it entirely. There is a woman and her husband in the house. Grab them and run. They are under surveillance. Act quickly and get out of there fast. Meet Desanti in FPS. Location programmed. Circling he descended, slowing as he did, regaining his breathing and recuperating from the effects of the speed. The landing was hasty and Damon came in much harder than he expected, straining the plane as he skid to a stop only after his plane crashed through the side of the house. Disconnecting from the seat, he opened the hatch, the plane still on as he leaped out of the plane in full flight uniform. The woman clutched her husband as the man pulled his gun out, holding aim on Damon. Extending his arms in the sign of surrender, he slowly moved towards them. "I am a friend," he said, but the sound was obscured and as Damon attempted to take off the helmet the man fired a warning shot. "Don't move." "MY HELMET!" Damon tried to yell more loudly and it was not until another shot came through the window that Damon ran forward and grabbed them both, pulling them towards the plane. "Get in. Get in," he urged trying to push them as quickly as possible facing the threatening aim of the man again before another shot fired, hitting George in arm. And it was then that they began to realize whoever this stranger who crashed through their house was and whatever he was doing there was not to hurt them but to help them. He was sent by someone, someone who knew they would be under danger and someone who insisted this man help them. Trying to climb in, another shot fired past Damon, implanting itself into George's head. His body collapse before Damon could react to grab him and the shot that struck his own helmet told him this was too serious. George was dead, attempting to retrieve the body would be all their deaths at this point. Getting into the plane, Damon closed the hatch, providing them a temporary reprieve from the advancing shots. "Strap yourself in," Damon ordered to Autumn as he began to secure himself into his seat. "What!? George!" "Now," Damon's order carried with it the weight of a command. "Secure yourself now." And as she fumbled with the straps, Damon did not wait to ensure if he was secured before he backed up out of the wreckage and prepared for a rapid take off. When he heard the click of her belt, he manipulated the controls focusing on controlling the vertical takeoff. Pushing up, Damon quickly pulled away from the house, the shots never ceasing until he reached a height too great. But even as he broke far enough away and thought that they might be safe, he saw two specks appear in the distance, closing in quickly. "I am going to have to maneuver us out of this. There is an emergency oxygen mask aside of you. I suggest you put that on. I would normally take out to a height that they cannot fly at, but you are not equipped to handle those altitudes and speeds so I am going to take us as high as you can tolerate and push us as far as you can go. I need you to stay with me and think for the moment. George is dead. Stop worrying about him and focus on this mission or we will both die too." "He's dead?" Autumn's voice peaked with concern. "These are our lives ma'am. With all due respect, I need you to focus. At times in life you need to make these difficult decisions. He is dead. Focus on keeping yourself alive now so you can mourn his death later." "Okay," the response was meek, but Damon knew that some part of her had already accepted this news when she saw Damon make the decision to leave him behind. "What do I do?" "You are going to feel like passing out. While I normally would let you just pass out if this was not a life or death mission, I need you now to tell me when you feel like you are going to pass out. I need to know what speed is your max speed and what height is your max height. When those pilots back their catch up to use, we are going to have to push our limits to avoid them. My plane is not equipped for plane to plane combat. I can only dodge them." "Okay," Autumn responded, holding the sides of the plane to keep herself steady as Damon ascended. She felt the first rush to her hit, the mask stifling her breathing, and the darkness threaten to take over. "I'm losing it...." she spoke as Damon evened out the plane and he waited until she regained herself again before he pushed the plane faster. And Autumn too felt the rush, the heat to her face, and a heavy thud of her heart before she could gasp the words "I.." was all she could manage before she could feel her vision narrowing. It was several minutes later that she realized Damon had descended some and was cruising at a slower speed, the black specks he saw earlier now appearing to be tiny planes approaching them fast. "Are we going to be okay?" Autumn asked, her breathing still rapid, her heart pounding as she pressed the mask closer to her face. Although she worded it as such, what she really wanted to know was could they survive within her maximum toleration levels. If he could only dodge, he probably relied on height and speed, the two items that she singlehandedly prevented. "Yes," Damon answered, his voice even as he seemed focused on watching the planes quickly behind them. And the voice of another man broke through a radio "you are ordered to land immediately by the Alleghenian government." But Damon did not respond, he kept his pace, allowing them to give a second order. "You are ordered to land. Land immediately or we will shoot." "Brace yourself," Damon spoke and watched as Autumn clutched the sides of the plane again, anticipating this would be the worst ride she was ever one. And as he spoke, he wielded the plane like a deadly weapon and it dodged the first missile. No other warnings came through, but none needed to. His actions spoke all and they opened fire. Ascending, Damon pushed Autumn to her point. He knew it would buy them a few minutes, a few minutes before they were able to reach his altitude and when they appeared again behind him firing, he spun the plane, dipped, and dove around their missiles, barely avoiding each one. And as he continued to dodge their bullets two more planes emerged in the distance coming towards him. When they neared, opening fired, he dodged their weapons and dove beneath them, accelerating as he had done so. The rapid acceleration and maneuver bought him enough time to for the others to fight crashing into one another and catching up with him. And by the time they regained their positions in the sky, he had a cushion of distance that would protect him from their weapons for the time being. "We are almost at the border. Hold on, I am going to push." And as they approached, he heard the click of a round off the plane and for the first time began to wonder if they would make it out alive. Pushing faster, he broke through the border, heading to FPS as instructed, expecting the fight to carry itself out of the borders. But as he ascended rapidly again to gain more time, he watched Autumn lose consciousness and he stopped focusing on whether or not they were following and more on getting them to the ground. As he evened out his plane and burned his fuel, he found the first airport he could in FPS, requesting an emergency landing and hoping against odds that they would live to see the landing. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Allegheny | Nov 8 2010, 12:29:04 AM Post #11 |
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Partly Cloudy
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"Fuck this guy! I can't hit him for shit!." The Interceptor pilot yelled out over the comm. "Damn!" The other yelled. "I can't even get a lock on this guy, we are approaching Packilvanian Airspace." Just as he finished his word the Radio came alive with a call from the ground. "Raven Intercept two, Overlord actual. You are not cleared for entry into foreign airspace. Disengage. Copy?" The commanding voice ordered. "FUCK!" The lead pilot yelled before keying up his microphone to acknowledge the call. "Roger that Overlord, returning to base. The two fighter's pulled back on the power and slowed down to break off the chase. The Mahanionian plane landed and Damon popped open the cockpit, helping Autumn get out of the plane as well. Her skin was pale and soon after stepping down onto the ground she fell onto her knees and retched a few times before vomiting the contents of her stomach upon the tarmac. She wiped her face before standing back up, tears forming in her eyes. Damon moved in closer to see if she was ok but Autumn recoiled at his gesture. "Don't fucking touch me." She yelled more tears streaming down her face. She wasn't even dressed, she was an odd sight on the tarmac in her pajamas. Autumn stepped back a few times before finally falling back to her knees and sitting there, shell shocked at what had just happened. Her husband was dead and her home destroyed by gunfire. "He's dead." She whispered, staring at the ground, holding herself. She looked up at Damon and then quickly looked away when she saw him staring back, she tried to speak, wanting to ask who and why but she had suddenly lost her voice and resorted to sitting there slightly rocking back and forth. |
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 8 2010, 05:13:12 AM Post #12 |
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Cool like Snakes
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He stood there for a while still in full flight uniform, watching Autumn's reaction. Removing his helmet, he held it as he took a seat beside her, examining his helmet silently, surprised that the bullet that hit it did not penetrate it. His calm collected composure contrasted to Autumn's pale skinned trembling, as if this man had too many times been in this exact situation and it was not until Damon placed his hand on Autumn's back that she began to think perhaps he knew too well her own emotions. Placing the helmet down, Damon looked to Autumn, "I am sorry about your husband ma'am. Whoever shot him, they were military, and they were good. If it helps you to know that, I did what I could given the circumstances." He watched as the woman shook, holding herself and letting the tears fall. He expected her to recoil again at his touch, but when she did not immediately do so, Damon let out a deep breath. "I am sorry," he repeated, until he felt the strong arms of a man pull him up. "Sir, you are to be detained for questioning. Follow us," the voice spoke, pulling Damon with a force that Damon did not resist. Their emergency landing no doubt came with an official questioning. "My helmet," Damon asked, reaching forward despite being pulled away from Autumn. "Detained," the man responded as another man moved forward and grabbed the helmet. Allowing himself to be pulled away, Damon became accustomed to being outside of his control. The entire day had been nothing but one moment of loss of control to the next. And it was not until the men pulled Autumn up that Damon began to resist. Fighting he moved towards her, feeling the need to protect the woman he nearly died with just earlier. "Stop," he fought, "leave her alone." As more men advanced on him, restraining him, Damon grew more insistent. His jaw clenching tightly as he grew angry. He had no reason to feel this way towards the woman but they had just survived together and he felt a sense of protectiveness towards her still, especially since he failed to keep her husband alive. "Stop," his voice grew colder, commanding, "she is not to be harmed. Take me, leave her alone." "We are detaining you," the voice responded back coldly. Planting his feet, Damon threw his body forward, the force of the motion offsetting one of the men's balance. He broke free for a moment, rushing towards Autumn and planting his fist into the man attempting to apprehend Autumn. "Leave her alone," Damon ordered before he again was seized by several men and brought down quickly. "Sir, you are under arrest. Do not resist, you are clearly outnumbered." Cuffed and lifted off the ground, Damon looked to Autumn, a pleading look in his eyes as if he were begging for her forgiveness. He had failed to save her husband. "I'm sorry," he spoke to her again trying to fight against the guards. And as he watched the guard bring out his weapon with the intention of putting down Damon if need be, he felt the hot flush of resistance strike him. He would die before letting them take her and as he pushed himself, slamming the back of his head off the head of the guard holding. The motion instantly broke the guard’s nose. Damon broke free again, swinging his cuffed hands towards the weapon the guard had removed, disarming him in a fluid move as if the plan were perfectly planned and executed in a play. Despite his hands cuffed behind his back, he turned at an angle that held the aim at the guard reaching for his weapon. "Let her go," he ordered again. "Stand down," the order came and the guards stepped back, removing their defensive stands around Damon. He turned towards the entourage advancing, preparing again for another fight. "Uncuff him. He is not a threat," the man leading the group spoke, a command in his voice. "He broke my nose!" a guard protested, trying to contain the gushing blood. "And you arrested a man who was granted diplomatic immunity. He has already been cleared. Uncuff him now," the voice commanded as another guard moved forward and released the cuffs. Once released, Damon rubbed his wrists as he tried to analyze the situation. It was the sound of heals that confirmed who had pulled strings. "Mister Diehl and Mrs Trent, welcome to Free Pacific States. Please forgive the excess reaction. A combat plane making an emergency landing does often bring out questions. But we were briefed on the situation and glad to see that you arrived safely. Where is George?" Autumn asked, looking to Damon and Autumn and the plane nearby. But she needed no further confirmation, the empty plane explained well that he did not survive. Walking up to Autumn, Vaeda embraced her, "come dear, let's get you washed up and something to wear." Holding her gently, Vaeda looked back to Damon, seeing the obvious regret in his eyes. "You too Damon. Come along. You need your rest." Still rubbing his wrists from the friction of the cuffs, Damon followed behind slowly, his own thoughts losing themselves around these men. He had barely survived this day and all he had to show for it was the cuts along his wrists from the cuffs. "My helmet," Damon again responded, suddenly remembering that he was not in possession of it. "Here you go sir," the guard spoke handing him it, wondering why this man seemed obsessed with a simple flight helmet. Clutching the helmet, Damon again returned to examining it. The future. It certainly did not look like other flight helmets, having the appearance more of a motorcycle helmet, but the screen imaging, electronics, even the circulation were improved upon. As he walked, examining the efficiency, he began to appreciate the designer more and more. CCTM 0065. So why was he hiding in Carbonis? Escorted to head quarters, Damon gave his report before being escorted to a room. He had not seen Autumn since their departure on the tarmac and part of him began to wonder if she too way lying in her room, awake, replaying the day over and over again. Did she see the look on his face when he died? Did she get to tell him she loved him that morning? The questions pondered his mind as he found himself wondering outside, looking up the stars for an answer that never came. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 9 2010, 04:11:32 AM Post #13 |
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Cool like Snakes
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"Yea? Well it won't change anything. I wanted to have my own family with him and enjoy a tranquil life of teaching and raising my own children. But now.... he's gone and my life is nothing but a pitiful shell... just like you." She nearly threw the phone, wanting to smash Cassandra's existence into a million pieces before the deep voice behind her startled her. "She is right you know?" Wheeling around, the man from earlier stood there, his arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. He was wearing the same solid black uniform as she remembered Brandon wearing, confirming that he too came from the same nation just as Cassandra had said. Her eyes were angry, darting at him with a vengeance. Part of her wanted to blame this man for it, beat him senseless for causing her this pain, but another part wanted to blame her sister more....if she never tried to get back in her life, none of this would have happened. "Leave me alone," she spoke coldly, turning away from the man, not wanting to be in his presence. "I would under normal circumstances, but you really do not want to be alone now Autumn," his voice again sounded, a slight hint of a foreign accent pronouncing her name as he continued to stand there. "You are angry, you are hurt, and you want to blame someone for what happened. You want to rationalize what happened and run through the millions of 'what if's' that could have happened. But your sister is right, it would have happened either way." "How do you know!?" she bit at him too, questioning him with an angry stare. Sighing, he moved into the room, closing the door. Undoing the buttons of his jacket, he began to strip enough to expose the sniper's scar on his chest. He avoided her eyes as he did so, quickly fastening the buttons again ashamed at his own wounds, "because some people will never stop until their target is neutralized. They will fight until they kill everyone you care about then you. You may not want to believe it now, but your sister loved you or I would not be here now telling you this. Mister Dinardeau....Brandon Dinardeau....he is part of a group of people who have been trying to kill me for the past several years. That man would have never called me in if you were not important to him and Cassandra. It might mean nothing to you, but in my nation, that is a sign of utmost respect. Certain Mahanionians do not work well together and the fact that he asked me to help him....you were important, your family was important." The look on her face was but a reflection of his own and he moved forward and sat in an empty chair, "I..." he struggled with the words for a moment looking at the floor as a distraction, "I wanted to save your husband. I didn't know how serious the situation was. They said military, but those men....they were mercenaries, hired hits, men who are better than damn good. Whoever is after your sister....they are going to get her Autumn. Brandon might be on her side and he is good, he was a brilliant operative in his time, but he loves her and that clouds his judgment. He would not sacrifice you or your family as a pawn to take this guy out. George," Damon winced at repeating the man's name, "I could have....I could have tried to....they got him....I had to make a choice....you or him....all of us or him. He was already dead Autumn....I wanted to....but he," Damon's words choked themselves as he sat there trying to get them out. The silence that hung between them would have been stifling if they did not wish the other not to speak at that moment. Part of her wanted to hug him but he was the man who did not save him and that part of her hated him at that moment. Taking a deep breath to regain his composure Damon stood and chanced the moment to look into her eyes, "I am sorry Autumn. I needed to tell you that myself." |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Allegheny | Nov 9 2010, 11:09:24 PM Post #14 |
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Partly Cloudy
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Autumn didn't respond, a few more tears fell from her eyes as she tried to hold back, not wanting to look weak, but her efforts were in vain. "I... What am I going to do? What happens now?" She didn't know what to think, what to say. She only had questions. She was a mess, she hadn't changed nor had she anything to change into. The only person she knew was the man before her, but yet she really didn't know him. She felt alienated, everyone knew who she was but she was oblivious. It was all just confusing to her. Autumn's head pounded from the headache she received from her trying to understand and the shock of the change she had found herself in. "I don't even know who you are." She said, more tears flowing as thoughts of her husband broke through the surface. |
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 12 2010, 12:55:46 AM Post #15 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Removing the military jacket, he handed it to Autumn. As she stood there in tears, part of her seemed too uncomfortable in her pajamas standing before him. While the gesture of removing his jacket made him feeling naked himself, he was willing to part with it for her personal comfort. "Follow me," the deep voice seemed to order but the command itself seemed softer than earlier. Reluctantly obliging, Autumn took the jacket, if only to cover herself around him and possibly others. She followed with her arms crossed and the tears still fresh as he led her outside to a private clearing. The breeze was cool and it was not long before he laid himself on the ground and looked up to the sky, seemingly lost in contemplation. "My name is Damon Diehl, at least I believe it is, that is what people are calling me. I can recall past events to a point, everything else is a blur. I can tell you I was shot by a Vekaiyun sniper. That is what they tell me. The wound seems to confirm their story, so I believe it. I was/am hunted by own government who will stop at nothing until I am a shell of my former self or dead. I have no recollection of what happened the past few months and my last memories are trapped in a fog. What I do know is that during that time I came to care for people close to me and that during that time, I lost those people. My mind recalls images of a woman that my memory cannot place. My dreams plague me with laughter of a man who took life by the horns and my memory cannot tell me who it is. You asked me what is going to happen now. I cannot tell you, I am trying to figure that out myself. What I can tell you is that you are still alive and I am still alive, so there must be something we can do with that. We are ghosts Autumn.....we lost things closest to us. What more can we lose now? In some ways, that makes us almost invincible. What are they going to do? Kill us? Kill what exactly? They killed us when they took out those closest to us." |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Allegheny | Nov 12 2010, 01:49:27 AM Post #16 |
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Partly Cloudy
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Everything Damon said had only served to hurt her more. She sat down next to him, the jacket laying over her and the sleeves flopping around as she moved. She tried to say something to counter it, she didn't want to be a ghost, she didn't want to have nothing left to lose. She silently sobbed to herself as the pessimistic words slammed into her one by one. If this man didn't know what would happen, the man who had saved her and the only 'friend' she had at the moment, then to her all was lost. She finally worked up the courage to say something, she wasn't a military woman, she wasn't brave, she was scared. "I... I'm afraid, I don't want to die. Maybe you have nothing to lose anymore, but..." She tried to think of something other than her sister that she could call worth living for but could find nothing and instead sat in silence once again. |
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 12 2010, 10:02:41 PM Post #17 |
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Cool like Snakes
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"Maybe you have nothing to lose anymore..." His mind flashed, the image of the carefree woman standing on the beach, his own laughter as he hefted her up and tossed her into the waters reverberating in his mind. "Stop," he ordered, his voice turning to a cold command as he shook his head. For a moment Autumn was about to reproach him when she realized he was not talking to her but grabbing his head, trying to shake out the memory of something. "I'm afraid, I don't want to die." "Tell him 'I owed him this one.'" "Who are they?" he asked Autumn, looking to her with a vague disconnection, as if she might actually have the answer to what he was experiencing. But even as the words came from his mouth, the rationale part of him seized control and she could watch in his face as the man she was just talking to shut down, disconnected from himself, a series of complex psychological defense mechanisms taking hold at the same time. "So am I," he spoke, his voice sounding distant and it was not until she could feel the vibration of something in the pocket of the jacket he lent her that she realized this man was more close to her own feelings now than she initially thought....that the only difference between them was he had more experiencing blocking them out. Fishing for the object, she removed a phone, a face plate lighting up to reveal the caller. "Unknown, Sector 0, Carbonis Complex, Mahanoy," Autumn spoke as she read aloud the caller, extending the phone to Damon. He seemed to look at it for a moment as he stood up, lost in the caller address, before taking it and in a move of sudden ferocity, throwing the phone hard against a tree, shattering it to pieces, silencing the caller. "You are not alone Autumn," he spoke as he stood there staring at the remnants of the phone. "I am sorry for your husband. You need only give the order and I will hunt down whoever did this, you should know that. I owe it to you to at least repay my failure somehow. I just," his words seemed lost to him, "I know that seeking revenge will not alleviate what you are experiencing." |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Allegheny | Nov 12 2010, 11:10:20 PM Post #18 |
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Partly Cloudy
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Autumn move a little close to Damon and tightened up the jacked she had draped over herself to keep out the cold air. "I don't know what I want yet. I am still confused, but I do know I should be thanking you for doing what you did, even if..." She didn't finish her sentence but she knew Damon knew what she was talking about. "I yelled at my sister, blamed her for everything." Autumn looked Damon in the eye. "I've never done that before in my life. If they are trying to use me to get to her then now the only option they have left is to go directly to her. She can take care of herself though, but she is all I have left." Autumn sighed and silence spilled over the conversation once again. A few minutes passed before she spoke again. "Anyways, I couldn't ask you to put yourself in danger for me again." |
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 13 2010, 12:58:26 AM Post #19 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Damon let out a slight laugh, allowing the faint grin he suppressed to slowly creep onto his face while he turned to face Autumn, "I have nothing to lose, right?" Crossing his arms, he stood there for a moment in thought, "Your sister is the Alleghenian Supreme Commander. I believe it is safe to say that whoever did this has more to fear from her than she has to fear from them. They might be damn good, but she fought her way to that position....protecting her life is second nature." Looking up Damon seemed to wince as the approaching guard neared, "Sir, while you may have a degree of diplomatic immunity, you are still be detained for the time. Please remain within the assigned premises." Shrugging Damon looked to Autumn, "I broke over two dozen international laws with that maneuver. Time to face the reaper." Guided by the armed soldier, Damon walked a few feet before turning around to look at Autumn, a look of regret in his eyes. "I was serious," he called back, "let me know if you need my help." "Come on," the soldier ordered, redirecting Damon forward, "you have a meeting with officials in ten minutes." Leaving Autumn had been no easy task as he turned around again and hung his head, the wind blowing across the back of his exposed neck chilling him. He wanted to stay, to talk about what George had meant to her....let her know that he understood, but his actions would need to be explained and they were not apprehending her. His reaction to her threatened safety on the tarmac had earned her freedom from their presence in fear this foreign diplomat might again snap. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 13 2010, 05:26:10 AM Post #20 |
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Cool like Snakes
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The Carbonis Complex, Sector 0, Mahanoy, The West Pacific "Repeat?" The man leaned forward in his chair, his voice cold as he looked at the bearer of bad news with obvious contempt. "He is dead, sir. General Terebyeva was reportedly in pursuit of Diehl when he lost consciousness and subsequent control of his plane." "When did this happen?" "Just this afternoon, sir. We have images of the crash for your confirmation. There is not much left to look at though. He must have hit the ground at Mach 1." A moment of silence transpired as the man seemed to consider his possibilities. "Sir, we will need to replace him. Carbonis needs an active General overseeing the maintenance of our presence there. You can either transfer one of our own men to Carbonis or promote one of their men." "Do not tell me how to do my job. They will promote their own man. Carbonis is has been an efficient partner since the beginning of this Empire. We can trust that they will take this matter into their own hands if they have not already solved this crisis," the man's voice turned to ice. Standing he walked to the window behind him and looked out at the stretch of the complex. "And what about Diehl?" he asked, the hate in his eyes burning back at him through his reflection. "The boy was not found, sir. We logged a call to his phone and it has been offline since." "Find him." "But sir, is he really much of a threat? The young man shows no outward signs of disregard to The Elite Empire. With the exception of avoiding his own demise, he has followed our rules impeccably well. Do you really believe these steps are necessary?" Turning around to meet the officer's eyes, he turned his cold look of resentment onto the man. Could he be so naive? "Do you not see what Diehl has done? This little game of his is costing us a loss in face and millions of dollars to clean up and cover his escapades. This recent stunt of his violated several air space regulations of that region and we are going to have to pay tens of thousands of dollars in fines to cover the violations. He has not only destroyed personal property we have to pay the repairs for, but he has also damaged military property. That plane of his is a multimillion dollar project. Do you realize the amount of money that goes into repairing one of them? We cannot keep paying for his mistakes. Reel him in. I want this boy arrested and in Mahanionian custody before he can do any more damage." "How do you suggest we do that sir?" "Dangle a piece of meat in front of him." "Are you suggesting we bait him sir?" "Reviews," he responded, the cold apathetic tone stinging, making even his assistant cringe with the sound. "Sir, you cannot be serious? Reviews so soon?" "You are wasting my time. Do not make me repeat myself." "Yes sir," he responded timidly. "This discussion is over," he once again turned his back to the man, the reminder that his assistant should have been out of the office thirty seconds ago. When the doors were closed, the ice cold stare of the man looked down at the documents on his desk. Several prominent members of The Elite Empire all under duress or dead....The East Pacific their eternal resting site. Nursing his fractured hand he drained the glass of its contents while rereading one of the most recent reports. War is imminent. Region unstable. Political foundations fracturing. Kicking his feet up onto the desk, he leaned back in the chair, analyzing his course of action as he slowly took off the fresh glass. The move was clear...now all they needed to do was wait for the perfect time. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Todd McCloud | Nov 13 2010, 11:49:43 PM Post #21 |
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Planet Telox
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Ikrisia sat at a table in a small room, cell phone in hand. By the looks of her body language, the conversation wasn't about anything splendid or relaxing. Instead, she leaned forward, elbows on a jaku wood table, and her free hand clenched in a fist. "Report," she said as the phone lines were transferred over. "Yes." She listened as her large, triangular ears were filled with the events concerning a plane traveling at remarkable speeds crossing Vekaiyun air space over to Allegheny, then, crossing their radar once again as it jetted toward Packilvania. It only clarified what she had heard from the briefing she was given only minutes ago. "Me? Mad? Oh, I don't know, Ikavu Commodore, I would think that my own officers would be able to at least fucking tell me what's going on when it is occurring! I don't care! Look, I'm not playing this game with you, commodore. We just saw Listonia attacked with missiles today, do you expect me to be any pleasant over the news that a plane traveled across Vekaiyu so fast that our planes that had scrambled to intercept it barely left the ground before it was already past them?" She paused. The events from earlier today had finally bubbled forward and needed a place to vent. "I don't give a damn! No. Yes, warn the Alleghenian government of this plane, unless it's already passed over by the time this conversation has ended. Goodbye." As she clicked the phone shut, Ikrisia stood from her chair and pushed it in, returning back to the civilian area. "At least it wasn't a missile. But I wonder what Gordon would say to that if I spoke with him tonight on the matter." |
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"Your uniform doesn't seem to fit. You're much too alive in it." "You must be the change you want to see in the world" - Gandhi "The worst prison would be a closed heart." - Pope John Paul II Vekaiyu's Wiki Page | Ikrisia Levinile's Wiki Page | Listonia's Wiki Page | |
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| Reziel | Nov 16 2010, 07:21:19 AM Post #22 |
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Eternal Delegate
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Free Pacific States – Liberty City EPTO headquarters – Vaeda’s rooms As his personal limit of tolerance had been reached, he didn’t really knock at the door. He just entered. Uncaring about protocol, about privacy, about anything else but the matter he needed to be handled. And when Vaeda Desanti glanced at him, half surprised and half irritated, he sustained her gaze. As if she wasn’t the pro tempore Secretary of the whole EPTO, but just… just the woman to whose escort he had been assigned to. «Lady Vaeda, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but there’s a matter of extreme urgency needing… your complete attention» «Lieutenant…» «Lady Vaeda, your complete attention. With all due respect, obviously. But I’m the one leading your escort. I had honestly expected we’d have been replaced by a Mahanonian EPTO team five minutes after your appointment, but as this has not yet happened and it’s not scheduled to happen for the next future… here I am. Leading your escort. Which in the very end means I’m not subject to your direct authority, being the one having to decide what’s safe and what’s unsafe» «Lieutenant, I’m not in the mood…» «Neither I. But our respective moods are irrelevant. Until different orders, we’ll have to… live together, if you’ll pass me the term» «I do not think I will» «A pity. I apologize: as soon as my agenda will allow it, I’ll look for a better term. Right now, I’ll stick to it, as it’s exactly what we’re doing. But if we want this to work… I regret to inform you that our level of communication has to be increased. I have to be informed in advance about your whereabouts. About your movements. About your agenda… because mine is rather simple. Watching your ass 24/7… well, not literally, of course, but you have the gist of it. Above all I would be extremely grateful if you could inform me in advance when you plan to meet someone who’s managed to violate the aerial spaces of half the nations of TEP, violated direct requests from the FPSian airforce, violated direct requests and denials from LC International… and who’s now standing in the middle of the landing strip claiming to be a Damon Diehl ’having to meet Vaeda Desanti as soon as possible for a matter of extreme urgency’» |
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Armis Exposcere Pacem They demanded peace by force of arms ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 16 2010, 07:43:02 AM Post #23 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Carbonis Corporation, Carbonis, The East Pacific "Did he believe you?" the voice spoke with his back to the advancing soldier. "Yes sir, he never questioned the report." "Thank you Baker. You did well. I believe my death may open some doors for your promotion. You have served this nation admirably," Terebyeva spoke as he extended the glass of vodka in his hand, toasting to a completed mission and a job well done. Looking towards the empty dock of the plane they gave Damon, he sipped at his liquor, "I hope that man succeeded. He is good....not an Elite, but something else, something beyond us," he spoke to the soldier at his side. "What do you mean General?" Baker questioned, curious as to the new approach Terebyeva was taking towards Damon. "Today we saw a Mahanionian born to the most famous Elite General, but he was neither an Elite nor a Mahanionian like we suspected. We saw a man searching for something beyond our respective governments and militaries and that is a trait I recall seeing in only one other man," Terebyeva turned to Baker, the look of intensity burning behind his eyes at the possibilities of what this revelation could mean for them. "General.....I do not understand." "In due time you will son. But for now, it seems I need to promote a new General," Terebyeva began walking out of the room. Following beside Terebyeva, Baker looked up, "any ideas on who that should be sir? Ilya Novosti seems a likely candidate. He has been handling our affairs with the Kaduesz and Dmitriov impeccably well. If I may suggest him sir, I believe him to be the best choice," Baker responded. "You have suggested an excellent choice Baker. Unfortunately Ilya is needed to hold Dmitriov. We are having the most resistance to our presence in that nation. His experience and skills are most suited to continue our international affairs there." "Then who do you think we should get to replace you sir?" "Replace me?" Terebyeva laughed, "I do not intend on quitting. I am just stepping out of the light, which is exactly why we need someone who will put his face to the position and has no interest in doing the job. Someone we know we can trust to do what he feels is right and who has shown the ability to stand against Mahanoy." "Sir, are you sugges-" "Diehl. He has no interest of being a General, which makes him the best candidate. He has no ties to our nations. Find him for us Baker, we need to bring him here before Mahanoy puts the noose around his neck. If they get their hands on him, extracting him will become bloody. We cannot afford to expose our counter assault too early." "General, you are either brilliant or a mad man," Baker stopped, amazed that Terebyeva intended to use Damon as a puppet. "There is a fine line between those two states," Terebyeva laughed, striding down the hall towards the inner sanctum of the Corporation. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Reziel | Nov 16 2010, 10:12:00 AM Post #24 |
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Eternal Delegate
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The Grand Duchy of Reziel - Classified Location Archangel’s subterranean secure facility When the steel doors of the elevator closed behind him, Lachdanan observed the long hallway, appreciating the final result. During the last years, the whole facility had drained a good part of the budget dedicated to the Archangels’ corp… and honestly, probably they would have never bee able to collect all of the funds, hadn’t it been for the erians coming from a number of Noble Families whole males were serving or had served in the corp itself. But now… it was almost finished. Surely the most secure facility of the whole Grand Duchy… probably able to side straight near the region’s best ones. But what was even more worth… till now, its location was basically unknown to the most part of humanity. Even FPS wasn’t informed about it… and that was definitely a relevant consideration. «Colonel… forgive me. This way» Moving his thoughts back to the present, Lachdanan nodded silently while following the other Archangel through a number of hallways, until they finally reached a metal door guarded by two more elites. Recognizing their leader, the two men saluted him. «Storm, nice to see you here. General Novac has been asking about you since he begun being able to… speak again. Man… he has both of his feet inside the grave, but it’s rather obvious he’s a man accustomed to immediate obedience. Luckily enough he’s too weak to even move an hand, otherwise I’d bet he would have kicked our asses» «Is Major Sawyer inside?» asked the Colonel, grinning at the picture he had just been given. «I think he’s being kept as an hostage by General Novac. Something like ’Bring Colonel Reiser here or I’ll hold this man for the whole eternity’» replied the guard, opening the door. Chuckling quietly, Lachdanan entered the shadowy room. His eyes need a short while to get accustomed to the semidarkness… surely enough, bright lights were an annoyance for the General’s eyes. However, that short while was too much. «Resier» the voice was a whisper… but the tone couldn’t be misunderstood, revealing all of the impatience of a commander whose orders are being executed too slowly. «General Novac… you’re finally back. We were beginning to think you had gone knock out just because of a little bruising» he grinned, smiling as an heavy and irritated breath was everything he got as an answer. «Storm… behave. Within a couple of days, the man here will kick your ass if you don’t. Won’t you, General?» Sawyer’s voice was deep as always, and Lachdanan was happy to note that the earlier worries seemed to have vanished from it. A good sig. Novac’s conditions would have soon improved. Relieved, the Colonel moved a bit nearer, observing the Mahanoian’s paleness. «I’m happy to see you back, Novac» «I’m happy to be back, Reiser. But as much as I appreciate your folks’ discipline… I’ll now appreciate just as much if you’ll be kind enough to tell me where the hell I am» «That’s a question many are being asking, Novac… but you’re lucky enough to be entitled to an answer. You’re in the Grand Duchy. Not RNH, not EPTO. This is an Archangels’ facility. This was the one safe place in the whole world I could think of» «Mahanoy» «That’s indeed something we should discuss» grinned the Colonel «because well… I am not persuaded it would have been just as safe. Not sure why… but my instinct saved my butt dozens of times and I’ve learnt to trust it» |
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Armis Exposcere Pacem They demanded peace by force of arms ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 16 2010, 10:16:10 AM Post #25 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Vaeda smiled, sensing her own frustrations at the intrusion and pushing it away, replacing her military jacket and pulling her hair back quickly into a clip she looked to the man. "I understand Derrick," she spoke with a soft sigh as she sat down again, "I was wrong to assume that you would place your government as a higher priority. Right now as you have undoubtedly noticed, The East Pacific is in a state of unrest. There are wars breaking out, tensions escalating, and governments fracturing. This leaves our organization in a very vulnerable position. We must strive to obtain a sense of stability for this region. It is after all what the General would want. If he were here now, I know that is exactly what he would say," she spoke, her eyes peering off to the distance at the reminder that Novac was obviously missing from the equation. She had received no word to his condition or whereabouts; the reality of the worst case scenario filling her with despair. "I could speak his intentions as they have always been well known to me. Unfortunately, I am not a General. I am not a military professional. I cannot determine the most strategic course of action. What I can do is utilize those people that I know can form a plan of action. That man waiting for me on the tarmac, breaking every flight restriction laws our region has, is one of those people. He is not bound by government nor law and he can help us. He has just helped us. You see, that woman he saved was the target of an attempt to overthrown a government. He was called in because he is one of the best pilots our nation has as you have just witnessed for yourself. I was updated about this mission when I was requested to Allegheny to oversee our ambassador's condition there. Mister Dinardeau was also the target of this attack to take down the Alleghenian Supreme Commander. While that gives our nation much need to be involved, I feel that our best decision is not getting actively involved. I hope you can understand my need for secrecy and my desire to not involve more people than have already been involved." |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Reziel | Nov 16 2010, 10:27:11 AM Post #26 |
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Eternal Delegate
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At Vaeda’s answer, Derrick grinned devilishly. The woman was no General… but she wasn’t the frail creature she liked to be considered. «I’m not a politician. I’m not a strategist. Governments, plans, coups… nothing of my business. My one concern is the safety of your ass. I’m the one charged to take the bullet on your behalf, should we ever come to it… and I’m aware you’re not in the position of revealing confidential data to me. That’s fine. I’m not your best friend, not your hair-stylist. But if I have to be there for the abovementioned bullet… it would be of great help if you could warn me you’re expecting friends. Just to avoid me a bloody process of deciding whether they are friends or not. A simple ‘I’m waiting for a person’ will be enough… just to spare me the surprise. I hate surprises. This cannot honestly be a matter of discussion. It’s take or leave» «I am…» «Do you meet him here? Or are we planning to move somewhere else? That’s the one thing I’m interested in hearing… aside me being fired for being irrespective of the protocol, if that’s the case» Free Pacific States - Garneldo Shiro academy - in the meanwhile Closing the communication, Jordan Carlyle grinned. He loved having a support network. Information was priceless. Information... it was power. Moments after, the SMS was ready.
As soon as he received the delivery confirmation, the young professor glanced outside the windows. Liberty City. There was plenty of internal planes leaving from Garneldo... but he had to move far faster than that. Damon wasn't a guy sticking around for so long. Faster. Which meant he had to push a couple of strings. The mobile appeared in his palm once again as he whistled quietly. |
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Armis Exposcere Pacem They demanded peace by force of arms ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 17 2010, 03:49:47 AM Post #27 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Continuing from here En route to Mahanoy, The West Pacific "Approaching Mahanoy. Lock and load. X6 and Z5, take the front. Alert them we are entering airspace." Looking out the window, Brandon held back the pain he was experiencing and pointed to the rapidly approaching planes, "Welcome to Mahanoy," he grinned, their escort immediately bombarded with a Mahanionian assault team. "Officials or not, their job is to keep anyone from entering this nation who is not authorized." Pulling out the phone in his hand, he sent out a message before closing it and looking at the land before him. The aerial signals were in the distance and as they approached, more planes joined the escort, preparing to take the entire team down if the order was given. "Dinardeau!" the pilot yelled back, "they are requesting you." Standing slowly, Brandon braced his side more, trying to hide the obvious pain but failing with that simple gesture. "Excuse me," he spoke, moving towards the cockpit and taking control of the headset while talking, leaving the Alleghenians without his explanation as they entered Mahanoy, the vast land spreading before them. The aerial signals had been no lie, the lines of them reminding any unwelcomed aircraft they were not authorized to be here. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Allegheny | Nov 17 2010, 04:22:06 AM Post #28 |
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Partly Cloudy
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Cain and Rhodes had been in the front of the formation when the Mahanionian patrol intercepted them and their Mahanionian escort. "Oh! Looks like we are getting the red carpet!" Rhodes exclaimed, he rocked his wings and waved to one of the new Mahanionian pilots who had just arrived, he did not return the greeting. "Uh, Rhodes. I don't think this is the red carpet." He said as more targets popped up on the RADAR, before long even more planes had joined the escort. "The high pitch whine of a missile lock indicator proved that. "All right guys, don't worry they have missile lock, we would do the same thing if they were coming to our home. So stay calm!" Indeed, Ambassador Dinardeau had explained the situation which prevented them all from being blown out of the sky, however the massive escort was quite the sight. The land below was nothing but pristine mountain and forests, no city or airport could be seen for miles. After a few moments though a structure could be seen on the horizon, it was apparent that it was massive as it took a long time to come into view. Other structures rose around it as they approached and then as the city came into view a massive wall surrounded it. "Well that is a sight!" Audrey called out over the comms. "Yup they just don't build them all conventional like we do. This stuff is the work of master artisans." Cain responded in awe. The sun glinted off the massive structures, taller than the highest building in Allegheny. The airport matched the scale of the city itself. Massive long runways with several parallel strips to accommodate heavy air traffic. The escorts and the VIP jet had finally landed, taxiing to a drop off point where they could refuel and do routine maintenance. Cassandra and Patterson had been in awe of the sights they could see out the plane windows before they landed. "This is the epitome of what we have tried to aspire to for many years. Truly I am stunned." Patterson said aloud. Cassandra smiled, choosing to keep her words for when they would enter the city instead. |
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 17 2010, 06:22:05 AM Post #29 |
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Cool like Snakes
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Cool wind blew past sending fallen flower petals dancing across the freshly upturned ground. The mound of dirt was flattened and as the man stood there staring at the headstone, he stared as a rose petal caught the tip of his polished shoe, clinging to it in its last moments before being swept away, blown away in this tenuous world. "So what is it like being dead?" the voice approached from behind him, but the man did not turn to face the newcomer. "You tell me," the man spoke, his voice hinting at sarcasm as he stooped down to collect some of the dirt in his gloved hand. sifting it through his fingers as he looked at the headstone. "I saw you at my funeral. I am glad to see the one man who I would have wanted there in the end was there. But your service? What happened to that?" "There will be no service. It is the General's curse to die alone. No funeral marked the fall of our great leaders, I should find myself no different. Just a passing through time, a fragment of a memory, just a name on a page in history, never to be known beyond that moment." "Damn man, that's some deep stuff. I mean, it's not like you really died. You don't think we would forget you so easily if you did, do you?" "You had an impressive service Brier. So you went with the black stone after all?" "Not as impressive as that," Brier motioned to the saddened angel preparing for flight at the head of the grave, the serene creature mourning its own fate as it prepared to take its final flight. "There was no need to be ashamed of tears, for tears bore witness that a man had the greatest of courage, the courage to suffer.* Rest in Peace, Mitkä Terebyeva," Brier read the phrase at the base of the statue, whistling as he looked towards Terebyeva, "One hell of a statement you are making there." "It is not for me," Terebyeva responded, tucking his hands behind his back as stood back up and looked towards the statue, "the man it is for will understand." "Man General.....one day I'll understand this all," Brier laughed, "but you Elites are tough cookies to crack. Your hidden messages, the monolithic symbols, the secret communication....you create works of art just to get a message to someone that can be done in two seconds via a phone or email. Maybe it's my generation sir, but wouldn't it just be easier to tell the person that instead of constructing this statue and hoping that the person you are trying to talk to sees it and even more, understands it?" Terebyeva grinned, "One day." "Okay, okay, I get it....only time.....yada yada, but look, can you go talk to the spaz. The kid will not listen to me. He does not like the idea of 'dying'. You are much better at these affairs. Talk some sense into him. Explain to him why it's necessary," Brier spoke as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. "I already have. Ki's funeral is to be held in the town he was born. He is young and lacks confidence, but he is nonetheless sharp. He understands the need for us to sacrifice our lives to remain in the shadows, but he is still young, wants to believe there is another way. Let him have his time. I do not want to crush his spirit. He needs to believe in his ideologies or we will lose him," Terebyeva responded, turning from his grave and walking towards the cliff side, looking out at the ocean, the salty mists of the crashing waves below lingering in the air. "Why did you insist on being buried here can I ask?" Brier again intruded the man's silent recollection in his attempts to understand. "I was always rather fond of this place," he admitted looking back to the mourning angel taking flight. "Between land, sea, and sky." "Sometimes I wonder about you General. Who you really were in Mahanoy and all....." "In due time you will understand," Mitka reassured as he again walked away, leaving behind the tomb constructed for his memory. "There is no point rushing to understand what is best learned from experience. Emotions and wisdom should grow together. Some truths are best learned when you can cope with the emotions that come with the knowledge." "You know....when you say things like that sir, you don't reassure me that we're on the same team you know....it sounds like whatever secret you are hiding is something that will put us against each other." "A man has many mistakes he must carry with him through life. Some rocks break a man, keeping him at the base of the mountain in trepidation of knowing that the fallen boulder will set him back at the base. Some rocks define a man as he bears his load to the pinnacle of the mountain just to stand atop it with his rock and look down at what he has accomplished. Your life will be defined by which path you choose to take. It is much easier to leave the rock break you and never climb that mountain, but the question is, will you be Sisyphus and stand at the pinnacle just to catch one brief glimpse of life and self satisfaction?" Leaving Brier to stand alone with his thoughts, Terebyeva returned to the corporate building, engaging himself in the latest project while Brier looked out over the ocean, knowing that there had to be reason why Terebyeva choose this very spot to erect his statue. |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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| Der Fuhrer Dyszel | Nov 17 2010, 07:37:47 AM Post #30 |
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Cool like Snakes
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As the entourage landed, plane by plane lining up beside one another, the pilots began exiting their planes, laughing and joking as they walked towards the delegation plane they were protecting, hoping to grab the Alleghenian pilots and invite them out. It was not until the approaching entourage on foot stooped them that all stood and saluted. Lining up before the plane, the hatch opened and Brandon stifled his pain to lead the Alleghenians down the stairs. Standing before him though was a line of the top Mahanionians, saluting their new allies. While he had expected some attention to be given, the full salute had been unanticipated and it had startled him as he froze for a moment on the stairs. Forcing himself to continue descending, he looked back to Cassandra and Patterson with a look of 'I swear I didn't do this for show' in his eyes, the slight shrug confirming he was not behind the rather impressive greeting. Holding their salute until the delegation stopped before them, the leading officer lowered his arm and with it all the men around him followed. "Welcome to Mahanoy Commanders," he spoke, his voice hardened by years of shouting commands over the roar of plane engines. "Sir, while I thank you for the greeting, it was really unnec-" "Dinardeau, of course we are going to open our arms to our newfound allies," a voice of a woman sounded from behind as she approached to the front of the line, "after all, we would not want to send the wrong image about our nation to anyone." "Lady Diehl," Brandon bowed his head in respect as the finely dressed woman extended her hand, "it is an honor to see you." "It is my pleasure to be welcomed here to be among the first to greet those creating an alliance for our nation. I can look back in history and say, 'I was there when we shook hands for the first time.' What greater moment could one ask for?" Aria spoke, her voice a soft contrast to the previous man who had spoken, "Please, let us not waste time on this tarmac. We have arranged for a dinner. Let us not keep our stomachs waiting." Leading the ambassadors into cars, they drove towards one of looming buildings, the monolith stretching towards the sky, Babel's tower constructed in its fullest, the magnanimous goal of touching the heavens achieved. As they entered, the black uniformed men appeared more in number, all stopping to salute the entourage as it entered the lobby, the ornate grand hall spreading out around them. The hall for dinner had been several floors up and traveling the expanse of the facility had proven to be more of a hike than it appeared. Sitting at the set table, Aria extended her hand to Cassandra and Patterson, "I hope that we can make your stay here enjoyable. Please let me know if there is anything we can do to make you feel more at home while here. I am sure our nations differ in many respects, I should hope that we can accommodate to your needs while you are here." |
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Official Approval by Terasu MASTER OF PSYCHOSODOMY You can't ignore my girth. Terasu: "Well done DFD you imploded the universe" :lol: ![]()
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7:50 PM Jul 10