Aesop meandered through the hallway towards the party. But he swore, despite not being in the room, he could hear pain. He just could, he couldn't explain it but it was as if he just knew Randy was being tortured. No sixth sense was required however as two bullets rang out. He stood stiff. He was dead, and he felt nothing. 'Oh fuck she'll be getting outta the room then! Shit.' Aesop continued out, quickly he dodged inside a slightly open room as Pixie and Amy walked on by him. He bit his knuckled as he saw her. Just seeing her reminded him of what an absolute shit he was. God dammit, Carlos had given him the perfect pep talk to have fun tonight. Why oh why did he need to go and ruin it like that. Why? WHY! Why did he always fucking end it like this, every single time. Carlos gave him the perfect pep talk, just enough for tonight, just enough to be happy for tonight. Just enough to get through.
To get through.
To get through tonight.
Aesop gulped as he thought on Carlos's words, the man knew, he knew everything without needing to ask. And that made Aesop feel so much better. And god damn, he wasn't going to disappoint him like this. He might be a total stranger, but its not every day you meet someone who knows what its like to be the fuckup.
He shook his head as his body shivered. He tugged at his beard, little strands of hair falling to the ground before he straightened up, trying to make his beard look decent, and stepping out of the room. His first step was an overdramtic, chidllike step. He span on his heel and clicked his fingers before making dumb gunshot noises. He did a merry little jig before flicking out some hairbands and pulling it back into a ponytail. "Nice." He span one more time before heading into the room, his dumbass grin all over his face.
"Carlos' got this pretty tight gym here. You wanna, I dunno, spar or somethin'?" Approached Bennie. "Carlos' got this pretty tight gym here. You wanna, I dunno, spar or somethin'?"
Aesop looked around with glee. "Why the fuck not?!" He chirped as he patted Bennie on the back. "Let us beat each other black and blue until we are blacker and bluer than we already are. Wait is that racist?" He thought, looking at his own brownness on his hand.
============================== Don't tell anyone about this, especially Cranston."
"O-Of course. D-do you have any-w-where we could t-take her?"
"... I would burn every last one of them to ashes."
It was like staring into a mirror. Pixie could have sworn she'd made this exact same speech before. What had Amy gone through to make her this way? True, Pixie knew there was something dark under that smile on their first meeting, but she never suspected the corruption to run so deep. Perhaps corruption wasn't the right word. Amy was right after all, whose laws were worth following, save your own? This rotten world had no true saints. No real gods. Taking Randy's fate into her own hands like that was the only justice his sins could ever hope to see.
Pixie offered her a weak smile as she wrapped her fingers around Amy's hands, guiding them down from her face and into her lap, "You really would, wouldn't you?" It was more a statement of fact than a question. "You have that kind of devotion fer me? After such a short time? Why, Amy? What could I possibly offer you, the finest woman on the planet, that you couldn' get from someone else? Someone better? Yer so young, Amy, an' I'm lookin' more'n more like a weathered hag as the days go on."
These were questions that had been burning in the back of her mind since earlier this morning. Curiosity was one thing, but why love? "I don' mean to insult yer tastes, sweetheart," She mused. "But, I guess I jus' don' understand where yer comin' from."
"Let us beat each other black and blue until we are blacker and bluer than we already are. Wait is that racist?"
Bennie cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, "I ain't blue, man. Don't know what you're on about." He turned down the hall and gestured for Aesop to follow. "Also, lets keep the bruising to a minimum, okay? We don't want to be running on half-a-tank tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I'd be surprised if things don't go south with Wilks-Vine. Payton's one mean mother fucker."
The two men crossed through the double, steel doors and found themselves in a large gym. Stepping into a more open area in the center of the room, Bennie threw off his dress shirt and removed his socks and shoes. Garbed in jeans and an undershirt, he cracked his neck side-to-side, "It's been awhile since I've had an actually sparring partner. My only real practice usually happens in the field these days, you know. Such is the fate of independent contractors, I guess."
LIlith furrowed her brow as the young woman clumsily staggered through the conversation, her big brown eyes never looking at her own for more than a second. Those big brown eyes...
'The same as Axel's...'
As the woman began to leave, Lilith smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. Bowing? 'M'lady'? Of course it was her.
"Fairwell, Lady Maribel." Lilith spoke softly, taking a long drag from her cigarette.
Amy had to roll her eyes at the 'weathered hag' part, but other than that, she listened intently.
"I jus' don' understand where yer comin' from."
She was silent for a short time before answering.
"I'm strong. Cognitively, I know that to be true. I've overcome things that other people might not have done, things that it might have been better not to have overcome, but I did. I've risen high, and now I'm responsible for the safety of hundreds of girls just like me across the continent. I am strong, and yet, I can't help but feel... fragile. Before you, everything I did was careful and measured, in case something got broken. I learned to adapt to what other people wanted from me, because I had no choice. Later, I learned to like it, and a while after that it just became like breathing. I feel like I have wings, but for so many years they were tucked away, and I forgot they were there. I forgot how to fly, until I met you, and now every moment I spend with you feel like I'm spreading my wings a little wider, climbing a little higher. I'm scared that I'll fall, or else burn up on the surface of the twin suns; but if you asked me, I'd fly into the heart of those suns with you."
Elizabeth nodded, "Thank you as we---" Her big, brown eyes widened in fear as her words tumbled helplessly back down her throat. She knew.
What do I do?
"I uh...." She began trembling. Was Lilith a friend or a foe? She seemed friendly enough, but... What had the Maidens done for her except shoot her and imprison her? The muted pain of her gunshot wound pulsed as if to remind her of their last encounter. Her trembling intensified, causing her to drop her grocery bag at her feet. Slowly, she reached behind her back and gripped the pistol hidden in her waistband.
As her eyes bore into Lilith's, something oddly comforting washed over her. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Whatever it was, it did wonders in calming her nerves. It eased the trembling and the heavy breathing. Her fingers firmly wrapped around the grip of the pistol, she gritted her teeth, keeping her eyes on Lilith, "Wh-what do you want with me? A-are you going to t-take me back to your Captain?"
"... I forgot how to fly, until I met you, and now every moment I spend with you feel like I'm spreading my wings a little wider, climbing a little higher. I'm scared that I'll fall, or else burn up on the surface of the twin suns; but if you asked me, I'd fly into the heart of those suns with you."
Pixie couldn't help but crack a smile at her words. Giggling, she squeezed Amy's hands tight, "You should write anniversery cards 'er somethin'." After reeling back for a quick burst of laughter, she lifted one hand and ran it across the top of Amy's head, her eye, following the motion. "Yer sweet. You deserve any happiness you can find. If you think you'll find it with me, I'd be honored to stand by yer side wherever you go."
Their eyes met once more, "You mentioned strength." She slid her hand down, holding the side of Amy's head. "Yer pretty an' smart, but I reckon it's this strength you claim ta' 'ave that draws me to ya'. You see, I'm weak Amy." As she said this she pulled off her tank top, followed by the sports bra underneath. Leaning back so that Amy could get a better look, Pixie traced her fingers along the many scars that dotted her chest and stomach. "I reckon you spent quite some time lookin' at these over the past few days. I'm sure you've asked yerself where they must of come from. How much they hurt."
Pixie clenched her jaw, "I have a high pain tolerance too, sweetheart, but that's only when I'm dealin' with knives and guns." She grabbed Amy by the shoulders as a pained expression appeared on her face. "Those thin's mean little though. True pain... true sufferin'... I snap under the pressure. Every time. I'll help you spread yer wings, sweetheart," She lifted her hand and ran a finger along the length of Amy's jaw. "But in return, I wanna learn about this strength you have. Is that fair?" As she asked this she pressed her thumb against Amy's bottom lip, offering a weak grin.
It was. That was what twisted the knife in the most. Pixie was her Captain now, as well as her lover, she ha every right to know where Amy had come from. Hell, it said it all that Pixie was the first person who had ever cared enough to even ask. Amy just wasn't sure if that was a request she could ever oblige.
Amy went quiet, as she traced the scars on Pixie's belly with her finger, unable to look the other woman in the eye. Could she do this? If she told everything, would Pixie be able to understand, and be able to look at her again without seeing all those repulsive things. It was just words. All she had to do was open her mouth and let the right sounds come out, and then it would be done with. For better or worse, she would have 'opened up'... only it was more then that, to retell her story, Amy would have to see and feel all those things all over again. She had only just survived the first time around.
"Pixie..." she said quietly, after a long time. "I want to. Believe me, I really really do. It's just that, once I've opened that door, I don't know if I can close it again; and you won't like what's on the other side. That's not a fear, that's a promise. What's on the other side of that door is foul, and it will eat away at you."
Retreating away from Pixie, Amy went and sat on the edge of the bed, facing the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest. She looked younger than she had in a very long time.
"I'm going to go a long way away now." she explained, her voice a frightened squeak. "I'm going to go away, and when I come back, another woman who sat here in my place will have told you everything, but that woman isn't me Pixie, you have to understand that she isn't, can never be me! The things I told you before, that was just scratching the surface. You're going to hate what you will hear when I'm gone, but because it's not me telling it, you can't hate me..."
Her eyes were shining with tears now, and another minute passed in silence as Amy tried to compose herself. When she spoke up again, it was different. Her voice was hollow, monotonous, and she stared blankly into space as if she saw nothing.
"The first thing she can ever remember is the name. Amy Turner, scrawled on the label of a worn out teddy bear. She was six years old then, and the chains weigh heavy on her hands and feet. She knows things, how to walk and how to speak, but she cannot remember how she knows them..."
The retelling lasted a long, long time, and as it dragged on, Amy could only recall the highlights.
"... He took her every day, in every way he knew how. Took pictures after, hung them on the wall. When his friends visited, they all took her too. Sometimes one after the other, sometimes all at once. Some liked to dress her up, like a doll. Others preferred her torn and filthy. She had to learn who wanted her to scream, and who would put a pillow over her mouth if she didn't stay quiet. She tried to fight them, sometimes, but they always won. She wasn't even ten years old, but she had learned more of what can be done to one person by another that most do in their lifetimes. They were her first teachers..."
"... She only knows how old she is, because he would bake her a cake each year. Buy her presents, and talk like she was his guest, or his pet. He loved her, his little doll, and hoped one day that she might love her chains. There were other girls, but she was always his favourite, while they all still remembered how to fly. The chains strangled them, and none of them lasted long..."
"... Towards the end, her duties became more domestic. Aged eleven, the little doll was getting worn out. The man wasn't looking at her in that way so much any more, but he still kept her around; and she started to learn other things, like where he kept the medicine, and the knives..."
"... She thought she was free, when she left them all sitting there with red smiles. She was scared, hungry, and alone, but free. Free to sell the whole between her legs, for the price of a loaf of bread a week later. Her freedom was the dull clink of carbon, clenched in her fist while she lay on her back."
When it was over, Amy returned and looked over to Pixie, expectant, waiting for the fallout.
Lady Maribel? Taking her back to the Captain? Just what the hell was going on here? Maria placed herself in between the bandit and the noble, her face full of confusion. It was just her luck to run into people like this. Nevertheless, she turned to both Lilith and Miss 'Tigerman' and half-shouted, "Hold up. Hold up. Do you girls know each other or something?"
Lilith narrowed her eyes, the small smirk still curling her mouth. The girl was terrified, and clearly had little training in the art of 'reaching for a gun without telegraphing it for everyone with ten miles to see'.
"I'm curious, m'lady, how do you intend to kill me and escape in such a crowded placed." She spoke softly, ignoring the doctor's confused questions.
"I-I don't want to kill anyone," She stuttered. "But, don't think I won't!" Her voice was more firm now. "I've already had to shoot one man since you're people captured me. I don't want another weighing on my conscious as well!"
Looking to Maria, she furrowed her brow and gritted her teeth, "Get away from this woman! She's dangerous!"
Maria frowned, the woman was just babbling at this point, "Answer the question!"
Lilith let a small chuckle escape her lips. "Dr Maria, let me introduce you to Elizabeth Maribel, Lady of Boomhower." Removing the cigarette from her mouth, Lilith sighed out the smoke as she dropped it to the ground, stubbing it out with her heel.
Elizabeth's eyes went wild as they darted around the market, "Keep your voice down!"
That was one answer, one piece in the puzzle, but what about the others? Maria's frown loosen a bit but it was still there. "And she is threatening you because...?"
It would be really nice to have the whole story right about now...
Glimpsing at Maria, Lilith shifted her weight, placing a hand on her hip. "The good Lady here was taken hostage by the Maidens a while back, you may of heard about it. Regardless, that means little now, all I know is she escaped when Austin took the Maiden." Her voice lowered slightly. "And left a good friend of mine for dead in the dust."
"Huh." Maria had heard of a bunch of nobles getting kidnapped by the Maidens, but surely that just was part of everyday life on The Rock? Bandits raid, Nobles do nothing and Maidens raid and kidnap people for a fat ransom. It was a sad state of affairs, it really was. So was this. Things were getting way too heated. Maria sighed, "Okay, okay. Friend or no friend, shooting or not shooting, let's all just sit down somewhere and discuss this - quietly."
Elizabeth had remained silent for a long while. The trembling had returned, not because she was afraid (and, yes, she was afraid), but because of the sharp knife Lilith had plunged into her heart. Those biting words that released a torrent of guilt, crippling her right there on the spot, "F-florian." She muttered, her eyes now staring into space. Maria's appeal rang hallow, as Elizabeth's mind shut out everything around her.
Biting her lip, her eyes began to well up, "I WANTED TO GO BACK FOR HIM! I SWEAR IT! I-I... I swear.... I..." Her knees began to buckle under her, but she stood her ground. Still, her distressed eyes didn't seem to be focusing on anything in particular.
Furrowing her brow, Lilith tilted her head slightly. She wasn't prepared for that reaction.
"Well, lucky for you, he made it. Barely." He expression softened slightly. "I'm sorry about what happened to Tigereye." She didn't know much about the two noble ladies, but they must have been close to go through such an ordeal together.
"H-he's alive," She whispered, suddenly snapping back to reality. Her hands slipping off the grip of the pistol, she slowly approached the two women. "T-tell me. H-h-how is he?"
Lilith smiled. 'She really cares... huh.'
"He's fine, made a full recovery, pretty face intact, thank god. Look, you can do whatever you want, I'm not here to take you back, even though I'm pretty damn sure the captain would want me to." Her expression hardened. "You can stay with us while you're in Feroxi, whatever you want to do when we pack up and leave is up to." She stepped closer to the girl. "If you do leave, I can't guarantee we can keep Dio's claws off you when he finds you." Her eyes grew cold. "And he WILL find you."
Elizabeth met Lilith's gaze, "No, I can't let that happen. I can't let him find me."
What am I saying!?
'Dio? Well you are in his city.' Thought Maria. The doctor tried to liven up the situation, the serious atmosphere was kind of suffocating. A small smile crept up on Maria's face, "Does that mean you'll be staying with us then, Lady Maribel? With the amount of tomatoes we're purchased, I'm sure there'll be enough tomato soup for all of us."
Lilith narrowed her eyes. "Well, you better come with us then." She kept her gaze for a few silent moments before all the harshness fell from her expression. "But first we's is gonna go shoppin'!" Spinning on her heel, she plafully slapped the bag of vegetables in Maria's grasp. "Fuck soup, soup is for wankers who recklessly take bullets for pretty ladies." She put her hands behind her head as she began strolling down the street. "I'm gonna get me some steeeeeeeeeeeak!" She sang.
Elizabeth, for the third time today, blinked stupidly. What had just happened? Where had all the tension gone? Looking to Maria she smiled, nerviously, "She's quite, uh... happier than the last time I saw her."
Should she follow the dangerous bandit?
I am so confused.
"She's just following my lead." Maria said with a smile that was there more out of relief than happiness. "C'mon, I'm sure that shopping with a bandit and a doctor can't be worse than just wandering aimlessly through the market streets."
'A doctor, a bandit, and a noble walk into a bar...'
"Move your arses, bitches, shoes be waitin'!" Lilith shouted playfully, flipping Sprout's cap in the air before clumsily catching it on her head, albeit slightly askew. "Close enough!"
"Shoes?!" Elizabeth muttered. "Commoners love shoes as well?!" Looking at Maria, she threw her hands up to cover her mouth. "OH! Oh, I am so sorry Miss... Maria, was it? I meant no offense!"
"None taken!" The doctor laughed, she looked down and stared at the her worn brown walking boots, "Well, I guess I could do with some new boots..."
"Goddamn, move it you slaaaaaaaaags!" Lilith laughed.
"You're going to hate what you will hear when I'm gone, but because it's not me telling it, you can't hate me..."
Nothin' you could say would make me hate you, Amy.
Pixie threw her top back on while Amy braced herself for her tale. Still leaning up against the wall, she opened up the nightstand drawer and grabbed a cigarette. She didn't smoke them often, but something told her she'd need it. She let it hang limp off her bottom lip as the tobacco burned slowly.
"The first thing she can ever remember is the name. Amy Turner, scrawled on the label of a worn out teddy bear..."
Who was this now? Instinctively, Pixie closed her eye. By Amy's command, she didn't want to associate this woman with Amy's form. With Amy's face.
What followed was a grim tale. One, Pixie had a hard time believing. Yet, for whatever reason, she had no doubt it was all true. That it had all happened. How was it that a girl so damaged still had within her such beauty? Despite all the blood, tears and grime, there was still something special underneath. Something Pixie admired.
If she could, Pixie would have reached out and wiped away all of her tears. She would have taken all of Amy's pain onto herself. Unfortunately, however, despite what she did or said, it would always be Amy's burden to bare. The memories would always be there. The damage had already been done.
Amy had been staring back at her, expectantly for a long while. Pixie hadn't moved a muscle since the tale began and had completely forgotten about the cigarette until it had already burned to the filter. Flicking it away, Pixie leaned forward and stared into Amy's quivering eyes. How could she stand it? How could she possibly weather such profound trauma? Pixie furrowed her brow.
Enough gawking, Pixie. Comfort the poor girl.
Crawling on her hands and knees, Pixie reached out to Amy, hesitating a moment before putting her hands on the girl's shoulders. No words were shared as she gently rubbed her shoulders, eventually scooting closer to drape her arms around the girl. The two remained glued to each other, sharing a long period of silence, "Like I said before," Pixie finally said, whispering in her ear. "Yer a brave girl, Amy." She closed her eye, resting her hand on Amy's heart with one hand and caressing the inside of her hip with the other.
Kissing her softly on the neck, she continued, her voice never rising above a whisper, "I will protect you, Amy. If you lend me this strength, I will be unstoppable. I can protect them all. All of the 'Amy Turners' of this rotten world. Failing that," Her lips rested against Amy's ear. "I will avenge them. This world is in desperate need of us, Amy. Let's cleanse it, together." As she spoke she traced her hand along Amy's hip and laid her palm over her belly.
"Very well." The Gentleman replied, cracking another smile. "How do you win a war against a man, who's objective is war itself?"
"You deny him the war." Florian said absentmindedly, this was almost like one of the strange questions the Abbot used to ask him and - and then it hit him!
That's why they were here, or why The Gentleman was here. "You're going to try and stop the war?" If he'd been talking to anyone else Florian would have laughed it off as a joke. But here he was talking to the only man on the rock with more money and connections than God. Oh if Brother Cromwell heard me think that. He cringed to himself.
"What could you offer them that would make them want to turn back from the war with the nobles?"
Something had been bothering Florian since they'd turned onto the high street. He recognised the place, that wasn't the strange part, but couldn't work out where from. Until they came over a crest in the rising slope of the street and across the road was a church. A small, simple looking building, its stained glass windows now just plain old stained by time and weather. It was here. Florian's mind trailed off and he started to fall behind The Gentleman.
"Just... just a moment." He held up a hand to the other man and made his way up to the front doors as if they might bite him at any moment.
The whole building seemed empty, dust had gathered over the seats and cobwebs had formed in the rafters. It felt more like a stale collection of bricks than a house of god. Maybe they started taking their vows of poverty very seriously... do they have those vows? Florian couldn't even remember what denomination this place was. He doubted their current state was by choice though, the complete lack of finery left the whole place feeling cold. Florian wandered down the isle, drinking each sight in.
They'd fixed the broken window, replaced the busted furniture. His fingers lightly traced over the wall, it was around here, he was certain of it. "There you are." He whispered to himself as he found the closely grouped trio of bullet holes in the wall, someone had tried to cover them up with a moth eaten tapestry. "Which means..." He picked up his pace, turning now and then, they'd changed the spacing of the pews or something it was throwing him off. "Here." He decided. "I was standing right... here." Florian allowed himself a little laugh of success. How was it he could remember all this so clearly?
"Services are cancelled, sorry." Florian spun around in surprise as the silence was suddenly broken. "For the foreseeable future, I'm afraid I couldn't tell you when they'll resume."
The elderly pastor stood in the doorway leading into whatever backroom the church had, a sad smile plastered over his face. Meanwhile, Florian's eyes threatened to pop out of his skull they were opening so wide. "You're still here." He gasped.
"Sorry, are you from the shelter? We don't have any new donations this month. People aren't in the giving mood these days."
Something scratched at Florian's chin and he remembered. The disguise, of course. "No!" He said, a little too loud. "I just... I was hoping you could help me. I just got back into town and I need a new collar." He motioned to his throat. "Travelling was rough and I... I find myself without a spare." Florian grinned bashfully, fully aware of how stupid he sounded.
"Oh, a fellow man of the cloth eh? Don't you have a church of your own order? Forgive me, I don't remember seeing you around."
"Uuh... no... no I've been away." To put it lightly. "I belong to The Clerics of St. Micheal. A static place of worship is something my order must go without."
"Oh yes." The pastor brightened up. "I've heard of them, of you, I should say, sorry. Never thought I'd see one of your lot this far north. Please, please make yourself comfortable, can I get you something to drink?" The little fellow was all abuzz, suddenly welcoming Florian with open arms and trying to usher him further into the building. "Do your brotherhood still keep in contact with Blackwall Abbey?"
"Y- yes they- we do." Florian said, caught off guard and swept up in this sudden attack of friendliness.
"I'm friends with the Abbott there, odd place but charming, wouldn't you say? Come along, I'm sure I've got one here somewhere." The two of them had ended up in an office, containing all of the church's poorly filed paperwork and Florian's chatty new friend set about rummaging through the lonely desk's drawers. It didn't stop him talking.
"Always been intrigued by your order, I have to say. The whole I idea of the wandering preacher, I'd have been tempted to take the vows myself if they weren't so strict. Have to have my bit of wine of a Sunday, you know, sorry." He corrected himself, Florian waved him off. "Is it true you have to renounce your family name and ties as well or is that another rumor?"
"Yes." Florian nodded. "There are rumors about us?"
"Well, stories really." The old man. "I remember reading about all the adventures your brothers get up to and I'm sure you have your share as well, Sir, sorry I never caught your name."
"Florian." And he immediately regretted giving his name.
"Such a common name around these parts." The priest smiled. "A pleasure to meet you, Florian." The man was on a roll and there was no slowing him down it seemed as he rambled on and on, Florian wondered how long it had been since he'd had someone to actually talk to. Florian, for his part, kept to short and basic answers, constantly nervous that the pastor would recognise his voice or take too close a look and see through the makeup.
"I'm sorry but I have someone waiting for me, Brother. Another time perhaps." Florian said, firmly breaking himself away from the conversation and making for the exit.
"Of course, sorry, listen to me go on and on. Do be careful out there, You've no doubt already seen it but the bandits are ruling the roost these days and... well I don't think anyone's off limits." There was the unmissable sound of the victim in those last words that gave Florian pause.
"Maybe I should try giving them a sermon." He grinned back at the old man, trying to put on a brave face.
"Hmm." The pastor gave a little sad smile. "But what real use could a priest be among bandits?" The old pastor shrugged and turned back to his own little inner sanctum.
I ask myself that same question everyday.
"This is a mistake. I shouldn't be doing this... I shouldn't be here." Florian muttered to himself under the din of the bar's rowdy patrons. It was hard to tell if the place was about to explode into violence or drunken comradery. Or violent drunken comradery.
But there she was, eyepatch and all, the bandit he'd been looking for standing triumphant among the chaos and cigar smoke like she was queen of the world. "You can still turn back. This is a stupid idea anyway."
Pixie had just finished German suplexing a fat, greasy bounty hunter against the bar counter when she noticed a priest of all things seated not too far away. He appeared to be trying to hide himself from the chaos around him. After a firm kick to the ribs to ensure the hunter's consciousness had escaped him, Pixie sauntered over to the priest. Planting her elbow on the counter, she leaned in against the bar, pressing her breasts together, inches from the man's face. After taking a long drag of her cigar, she flashed him a cruel grin, "The fuck's is a priest doin' in my bar!? Don' you know God ain't a fan'a places like this?"
Oh god she's seen me, NO, don't this way! Oh god she's getting closer, what do i do? What do I do? What is she doing? Breasts... didn't see that coming.
"I- I- well. I wouldn't know what God's a fan of." He said doing his best to look her in the eye and NOWHERE ELSE. "But everything has its charms... I'm sure this place is no different." Florian stammered along looking like a deer in the headlights.
"Charm, eh? Don' reckon there's anythin' charmin' 'bout this place 'cept lil' ol' me," She snickered. "An' you didn' answer my question." Just then, another man came up from behind her with a chair leg in his hands. Stepping backwards with one foot, she braced herself and twisted her body around to face the introducer. She ducked under the man's wide arc and grabbed his shirt, pulling him off his feet and sending him careening into the back wall, behind the bar. "So," She continued. "Don' bullshit me, Father."
How had she already sniffed him out like this? Maybe she really did live up to the stories. "Well, actually..." This was it. Now or never. "I'm looking for you." Florian spat out. "I'm looking to - I'm hoping to, join your crew." Pixie just looked at him, that one eye boring into his skull. Florian wasn't sure where to look. It felt lie he was focusing too much on the eye but if he tried to face her like a normal person he kept looking at the eye patch. Suppose he could always just stare at her breasts again.
Pixie threw her head back and slapped her knee as she howled with laughter, "Oh, ain't that a treat! The fuck am I s'posed to do with a priest?" She threw and arm over his shoulder and snuggled up close, placing her other hand on his inner thigh. With a vile grin, she whispered in his ear. "I ain't never been with a man'a the cloth before. How much you reckon'd it take ta' bust a nut in yer robe?"
Florian almost leaped back from the bar and stood bolt upright in pure discomfort. "Thaaat's not needed, no." He flailed as he utterly failed to maintain his composure. Still he managed to dislodge her hand from his thigh. "But I can be of use, I'm sure if you just gave me a chance." Florian rambled on as he managed to dislodge himself from Pixie's arm and ducked a flying beer bottle.
Pixie smirked, plopping down into a barstool, "I reckon yer good at talkin' ta' people, right? Sinners? I gotta whole ship full'a psychopaths who could use a good shrink. Is that what you had in mind?"
I have no idea what I had in mind but - "Yes!" Florian cried. "I could do that! Bandit life is stressful and everyone needs someone to talk to. Plus I know some fist aid, I can cook well, I don't know much about machines but point me to do something and I will try my best to do it." Even the bartender was looking at him funny now.
Watching the priest struggle to make his bid, Pixie couldn't help but laugh. Had this guy totally lost it? She grinned, "Let me ask you this: what makes a priest turn into a bandit? Why turn yer back on yer God?"
Florian reached up to his collar on instinct. "But I'm not." He said, half-confused by her question. "You are not just bandits... you know this." It was almost a question, did she not see how the rest of the world viewed her and her crusade? Or was half of it just false reputation. "Bandits only take. You take from those who have many and give to those with few. This is the same work I wish to do, or to help in it. Priests must serve their fellow man as well as God..."
Pixie shrugged, "Alright, I think I get it. But here's the thin', Father, bein' a bandit's a rough life. You reckon you got the stomach fer it?" She got to her feet, coming uncomfortably close to the priest. Tracing a seductive finger up his chest, she gently cupped his chin. The look in her eye spoke all kinds of debaucherous things to Florian. Somehow, however, there was something there that implied something else entirely.
"Yes." Florian's breath caught in his throat. Here she was, the real thing. She could have rallied an entire syndicate with a look like that. For a second it almost felt like he was home. Florian cleared his throat, remembering himself and rising to his feet, gently brushing off Pixie's ever probing hand. "I offer my service to the cause of the Iron Maiden."
Grunting in amusement, Pixie caught a lock of her own hair between her fingers and started twirling it, "I reckon we could use one 'er two pretty boys on the Maiden. Most of 'em have fuckin' ugly-ass mugs on 'em. Anyway----"
"HEY PIXIE, YOU *****!" Bellowed a large man standing near the entrance of the bar. The whole place went silent as all eyes fell upon him and his two cronies. "YOU FUCKIN' RIPPED ME OFF! I KNOW IT WAS YOU, ****!" The three men stormed across the bar, cutting through the crowd with ease.
Pixie grinned, "Fuckin' lifted a few crawlers off this asshole." She winked at the priest. "What? I needed 'em." Looking back towards the three men, she smashed a nearby liquor bottol on the bar counter and dropped into a low stance. "You take the lil' ones. I got the big guy. Consider this yer initiation."
"What?!" Florian called out over the din. "No, I'm not actually allowed to - URGH!" He was cut off as someone's fist connected with his face.
"Sorry for the wait." Florian nodded to The Gentleman as he exited the church, fixing his new collar into place. "Took a little longer than I expected."
"Terribly." He stated. Jun's gaze didn't meet Tsubaki's as she looked into his, he just stared at the space near her eyes as he began to tell the tale. The tone of his voice didn't change, almost as if he was just reading something out of a story in a book - something that happened to someone else, "I was part of a platoon that was ordered once to be part of a convoy that was guarding an armoured transport vehicle which contained valuables - mainly carbon. We were ambushed by the Iron Maidens. It ended poorly."
"Continue, soldier."
"They fought both with fury and with intent. The third grenade they threw took out the platoon commander, some of the soldiers in the platoon routed after that. One of the Maidens who had a tactical shotgun - the leader of the attack - dominated the battlefield, there is no other way to describe it. However, once they managed to break into the armoured transport vehicle and got access to the valuables inside, they grabbed them and left; leaving a few survivors behind."
When he was finished, Jun leaned back and placed a hand on his thigh - right where a shrapnel scar was.
'Say something, say anything!' Amy pleaded silently after her tale was done. Pixie seemed utterly dumbstuck, not even noticing at first that her cigarette was now nothing but a nub. When she finally came to her senses, and taken Amy in her arms, Amy melted into them, shivering slightly, completely drained of everything.
"No one will be allowed ta' hurt you ever again."
"Thank you." was all she had in her to say. It was done, she'd upheld her end of the bargain. Had Amy been expecting some revelation, so great outburst of emotion with which she could expel all the pain? How could she do that, when she had to let the girl in chains tell their story for her. It was one thing to speak the words, but Amy had done so without confrontation.
Pixie was welcome to her strength. For Amy, the confession had meant nothing.
"What could you offer them that would make them want to turn back from the war with the nobles?"
The Gentleman was about to slow him down, when Florian at once became utterly sidetracked. The Gentleman waited patiently as his companion was overcome with nostalgia, making regretful note of how he has addressed the fellow priest with his real name. Common name or not, The Gentleman may have to return here later to see that the old man was pre-emptively silenced. That card would be played when and how The Gentleman wanted. He would leave nothing to chance.
"Took a little longer than I expected."
"Hmm..." The Gentleman acknowledged. "As I was about to say, both your reasoning and sense of scale are sadly wanting. One piece simply removing oneself from the board hardly denies your opponent. So, when said opponent wishes to wreak havok, and all moves you could make, including the refusal to make any moves at all, are bound to play into their hands, what must you do?"
The Gentleman glanced sideways, and shot Florian a wicked grin.
"Why, you cheat of course. You turn the tables while your opponent is blind, or else take your arm and sweep all the pieces of the board. You tear up the rulebook and alter the very foundations on which all traditional stratagem is based. I believe the archaic term would be 'The Nuclear Option'.
We're here for far more than just Vasa's petty squabbles with the local nobility, not to mention diffusing the Wilkes-Vine sceptical. What you see hear Florian, is one strata of a tidal wave of events that I set into motion some days ago, which I have named the Domino Protocol, a revelatory cascade designed with one purpose in mind. When an enemy has you outmatched on all fronts, crash the system on which they depend, and start again from scratch.
Dio Basilio wants to create chaos, presumably so he can then ride in on his metaphorical white stallion, and bend the world to his will and be called a saviour for it. In truth, his motivations are irrelevant. The man hungers for chaos, and I intend to oblige him with more chaos than he can possibly handle. I will indulge his gluttony until he bursts at the seams, sweeping all his pieces from the table before he has them properly marshalled. The Sirus Dickens robbery deprived key nobility and crime syndicates alike of their precious little nest eggs. As we speak, several assassinations are being carried out with the purpose of promoting more volatile personalities into positions of power, while intelligence leaks surrounding under the table arms deals and illicit espionage set the personalities against each other. Before long, a series of instructions will be sent to sleeper agents in the Unified Stock Exchange, who will, through carefully choreographed rogue trading, cause a cataclysmic crash in the carbon economy, reducing the vast majority of the major political powers on The Rock to complete desperation overnight. As they scramble to conserve what resources they possibly can, the political tensions I created will be forced to the surface, and the globe will ignite in a massive, all-consuming conflict, from which none of the major players, including the Lord of Feroxi, shall escape.
Our friend Dio wants the Ashlands to fall? Then by my command, they shall fall... right on top of his head. That is how you win against impossible odds Florian. You do the unthinkable. Oh..." he added, almost as an afterthought were it not for the piercing gaze he sent Florian's way "and I presume it goes without saying that this will remain our little secret. Meredith would object on principle. Too many urchins would surely suffer, though there's really not a fig she or anyone else can do to halt what I have already set in motion."
Bryan listened to Jun's brief tale intently, while eating his pancakes. Swallowing, he said, "I ain't never met any o' the Maidens. I just seen their ship once. Taking off from outside a dome like this big grey behemoth as I were driving in."
With his winnings safely stowed, Ruffles decided now would be a good time to talk to Pixie. Get it out of the way. Although it also occurred to him she and Amy may want some privacy. He knocked rhythmically on the door. "It's Ruffles, Captain," he called. "If you two are pantsless or some shit, I'll come back later."
New Haven was a nice city. Large, and expansive, though a third of its dome was a huge section of empty space. Whiskey suspected Payton had plans to utilize that space, but right now, she couldn't give a shit even if he were planning to grow marijuana on it.
Her name got her past security, and she threw open the double doors of his huge, almost palatial mansion. "Hey Payton, I'm here for my girl! Where are ya?"
The several grunts and minor officers milling through the house's halls had all come to a halt and were watching her. "What are you all doing, looking at what ya can't afford?" she barked, and shoved past them towards Payton's office. Kicking open the door, she looked around.
"Payton!"
"He's not here," drawled a familiar voice. She turned to see a large, broad man with a black beard filling the door behind her. General Kant. "You know, I'm surprised you had the audacity to wear his hat here."
Whiskey blinked, fingering the brim of the too-large hat that she had entirely forgotten was on her head. For a moment, her thoughts drifted to Eddie, and then she shook herself. The matter at hand, dammit!
"Whadda ya mean, he ain't here? He should be expecting I'd be coming by for Millie!"
"Oh, he did, Whiskey. That's why I'm here to keep you in the loop."
"In the loop about what?" Whiskey asked, her heart sinking. "The hell are you talking about?"
"Well," replied Kant, "Mister Wilkes-Vines noticed your... reluctance to carry out your mission and noted a certain likelihood of ill will. Therefore, your daughter has been removed to a safehouse in order to guarantee your cooperation for the time being."
"No!" Whiskey yelled. "Where is he? Where is she!? Tell me, you fuck!"
"It's time to go, Miss Fifer."
"No--" Kant grabbed her arm roughly and hauled her backwards out back into the hall. She lashed out hard and fast, her boot crashing into his straightened knee, and her elbow driving into his kidney. Kant grunted and staggered, but two more men had moved in and grabbed her from either side.
"Take her away," said Kant as simply as if her were asking for a glass of water.
"NO, NO, NO!" yelled Whiskey, twisting in their grip as she was dragged through the hall. Her arms were being pinioned back, held away from her holsters as she was dragged through the double door, back outside.
"GIVE ME MY FUCKING DAUGHTER BACK, YOU FUCKING PRICK WHERE'S MILLIE TELL ME--"
Her voice was cut off by the slamming of the heavy oak doors. Still rubbing his side and favouring a leg, Kant turned and strode away.
Pixie held her tighter, resting her head against Amy's. At least Amy had said something. Pixie wasn't quite sure what must have been going through her head after telling her story, but it could not have been pleasant. If Pixie thought of something to say, she'd say it. But for now, she hoped that silence was enough.
A knock sounded from the door.
"It's Ruffles, Captain,"
Pixie perked up.
"If you two are pantsless or some shit, I'll come back later."
"Are you okay, Amy? I can tell 'im I'll talk to 'im later if you want me ta' stay." Pixie whispered, concern painted all over her face.
"No, no." Amy whispered, raising her head. "It's okay, you can go. Just..." she raised her hand and stroked the side of Pixie's face.
"Let this be the last story either of us have to tell for a while, okay?"
With a warm smile, Pixie nodded, "Of course, darlin'." After a quick peck on the lips, Pixie she bounced to her feet. "BE THERE IN A SEC, JAKE!"
Looking back to Amy as she put her jacket on, she winked, "I reckon we should do a date 'er somethin'. No sad stuff, 'kay?"
"A date?" Amy said, forcing a smile. "That sounds good."
"Wear somethin' nice fer me!" She giggled as she opened the door.
Stepping past Ruffles, she closed the door quietly behind her, "Hey," She greeted him with an uncharacteristically soft voice. "I've been meanin' ta' talk ta' you too, Jake. Let's go somewhere private." Gesturing for him to follow, the two made their way to the hanger. It was empty. Hopping in the passenger's seat of the nearest crawler, she stretched her legs out across the driver's seat and hung her arms over the back of her seat and across the dashboard.
As Ruffles crawled into the back seat, Pixie produced a flask and took a quick swig. Handing it to Ruffles once she'd wiped her mouth clean, she spoke, "You first."
Tsubaki listened intently to Jun's tale. She hadn't any experience with the Maidens herself, but his account was consistent with others she'd heard. The Maidens were ruthless bandits. Despite their motives, they were just as dangerous as any other group... perhaps, even more so.
When Jun was done, Tsubaki closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, stroking her chin in thought. Despite their lack of intel, she had plenty of predictions as to what could go down. Speculating too much was never a good idea, but she couldn't shake this gut feeling that the Maidens would get involved somehow, "This mission won't likely be as straightforward as some of our others. If we encounter the Maidens in a non-combat situation, please, approach them with caution and do not," She opened her eyes. "Do not get taken in by their rhetoric. They have a reputation for twisting their enemy's logic and recruiting turncoats."
She opened her eyes, "Now," Getting to her feet, she looked down at her squad. "Get back to the barracks and put on civilian cloths. We have some reconnaissance to do."
Ruffles took a swig from the flask and exhaled. "Well I was playing a game of good old fashioned double chess, and... well, the pieces on the board got me thinking. You're bringing Lil And Sprout to us while we get our damn ship back, right? And that's great, I love that. Except I got no inkling for what you're gonna do after. I mean aside from the Maiden being gone, ain't shit changed. We're still a bandit crew, and you still don't want that life for them. So are you just gonna send 'em back to Feroxi or some other city and keep on without 'em?"
He took another swig and threw his feet over the headrest of the seat in front of him. "It's just Gents ain't the only bastard with tendrils out there. It was, what, a couple days and someone found 'em? My own fucken cousin if I heard right. Sprout got shot... the way I see it, Pixie, is that what we want for 'em doesn't matter. I don't see Lil and Sprout living to see the new year apart from the crew, they're just too high profile now."
===============================================
"Get back to the barracks and put on civilian cloths. We have some reconnaissance to do."
Bryan was out of his seat in a flash. "Hot fucken damn, Commander! I love when ya tell me t'dress up! No suits, no military rags, oh yes!"
He was off, practically dancing out of the mess area, back to their dorm. Kicking open his footlocker, he started rifling through his clothes. Eventually, he'd changed into a pair of faded jeans, a denim shirt, a slim fit leather jacket and a pair of chrome framed aviators. It was sunny out in Feroxi this time if year. Even if the sunlight was mostly artificial.
His swords were, obviously, too conspicuous for recon. So for weapons, he put a 9mm pistol in the the waistband of his jeans, brass knuckles on a cord around his neck that could be snapped with a quick tug, and a switchblade in one pocket and two spare clips in the other. Lacing up his boots, and backcombing his hair out of his eyes, he was ready to go.
Asad shook his head as he continued eating his breakfast, listening closely as Jun relayed his experience with them. He respected the Maidens, he had heard of their past exploits, hell, he even pulled up records on a few of them.
A red headed woman who was a demon in battle and demanded the utmost loyalty, a female sharpshooter with a penchant for dragging victory from the jaws of defeat, and a male engineering genius, to remember a few.
He smiled slightly, he would love to see such people in a fight.
"Get back to the barracks and put on civilian cloths. We have some reconnaissance to do."
Eating the last fork of beans, Asad wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, screwing it up and tossing it nonchalantly onto the plate as he rose to his feet.
"Aye ma'am." He yawned, this was going to be an interesting mission.
Heading back to the dorms, he changed into a pair of faded jeans, a red, long sleeved button up shirt, and a worn, brown leather jacket.
"... Sprout got shot... the way I see it, Pixie, is that what we want for 'em doesn't matter. I don't see Lil and Sprout living to see the new year apart from the crew, they're just too high profile now."
Retrieving the flask, she took another swig before letting her head hang back over the door of the crawler. Though she had been staring at the ceiling, her eye was focusing on something a thousand miles away. After a time, she sighed, "I've been runnin' this track fer longer than I can remember, Jake. Some days I jus' think it ain't meant ta' be. It's jus' not possible ta' be a good mother an' ta' be... well, me." She sat up, setting her eye on Ruffles. "Truth is, Jake, I'm tired. I'm tired of this fight. Despite what the world may think, I never wanted this. I never wanted ta' be the 'Bandit Queen'."
She brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them, "I've been thinkin' more'n more about jus'... leavin' it all behind. Jus' givin' it all up, ya' know?" She stared at her feet. "Takin' Sprout. Takin' Lilith." She paused for a moment. "Takin' you, an' jus' leavin' this life behind. See if we can' find some kinda peace."
'This world is in desperate need of us, Amy. Let's cleanse it, together.'
"But now... now, I jus' don' know anymore. I don' know if I'd be able ta' stand by while the world burned around me. I feel like I'd be betrayin'..."
Who?
She shook her head in anger and buried her face in her hands. After a deep, frustrated growl, she looked up again, "I don' fuckin' know anymore, Jake. I'm a fuckin' wreck. More so 'an usual, anyway." She remarked with a weak giggle. "I wish I could protect 'em from the real world, but maybe yer right. Maybe that jus' ain't an option. To tell you the truth, Jake, I don' know what I'm doin'." She sighed. "Not anymore."
Pixie draped her arms around the back of her seat and rested her chin on-top. Her eye found its way back to his. She wore a sad smile, "You know why I sent you ta' Boomhower?"
"Hot fucken damn, Commander! I love when ya tell me t'dress up! No suits, no military rags, oh yes!"
Tsubaki simply rolled her eyes in response. As they started towards the barracks, she called out, "Meet outside the gate in fifteen minutes!"
Whether or not they'd heard her was anyone's guess.
After throwing away the remnants of her breakfast, she made her way to her private quarters. It was actually more of a suite, but most of her colleges (and especially her subordinates) had never seen the inside of it. And for good reason. She had no doubt they'd think Lord Basilio played favorites. And perhaps, they'd be right.
Her stomach churned, much like it had earlier. Dio Basilio. Though she'd embraced his generosity at the time, she couldn't help but look at her beautiful apartment with contempt. It's as if his generosity had been a lie. A ruse. A subtle manipulation, so that she'd be more loyal to him and his cause.
No, stop it! STOP IT, TSU!
She just needed to get out. Focus on her work. Focus on the mission.
Drinking a tall glass of water helped ease her swimming stomach before she found herself looking through her wardrobe. She didn't actually have much. Despite the pay and the gifts, she never really had many opportunities to shop for cloths. She was always too wrapped up in her work, even during her time off. Sure, she'd sneak a peak at a fashion magazine when her men weren't looking from time to time, but she never really bought any of the things she ogled.
Shopping. I could really use that right now.
"That's the one," She whispered, pulling a white sundress from out of her wardrobe. Slipping it on, she walked into the bathroom to apply makeup and earrings. Two crystalline, rubies hung from her ears. A gift from Dio when she was a young girl.
Just don't think about it.
After applying red lipstick, she let down her hair and slipped on red high heels. All that was left now was the obligatory red purse... for her sidearm, of course. That's what she told herself, anyway.
Far be it from me to want to feel pretty every now and then.
She'd changed her mind.
She really did want a vacation.
After checking herself over one last time, she made her way out of the complex to meet her men.
"Takin' you, an' jus' leavin' this life behind. See if we can' find some kinda peace."
Ruffles smiled wryly at his hesitant addition, although Pixie didn't see. Not really the time for any of that.
"You know why I sent you ta' Boomhower?"
He thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on the side of the Crawler rhythmically. "To try the churros and pick up a venereal disease of my very own?" he hazarded at last. He wasn't particularly sure. After a moment, he suggested more seriously, "you think I've been out of it too long? Like I don't know the world or something?"
====================================
Bryan was playing with his switchblade, balancing it on the tip of his finger when the Commander came around the corner in a sun dress he hadn't seen before. With a flick of the wrist, he caught the knife's handle, retracted the blade and pocketed it, then peered over the top of his aviators and whistled softly. "Looking good, Tsu. You're a bonny lass as always!"
Florian didn't say anything, he just looked on in disbelief as his insides went cold and the world got further away from him. What could he say? He felt like a child playing with things far beyond him. The captain had sold her soul to the devil and Florian was left to navigate his own personal hell as the man spread havoc all around them. They may as well have thrown their lot in with Dio for all the good they were doing... there wasn't any difference between them now.
No, he had to do something. There had to be another way. There had to be.
Still, for the first time in a long time. Florian felt very very alone.
"You think I've been out of it too long? Like I don't know the world or something?"
Pixie didn't answer for a long time. She needed to organize her words in her head. She needed to get this right. After watching Ruffles drum his fingers on the side of the vehicle for awhile, she spoke up once more, "In a manner 'a speakin', yes," She started, turning in her seat and propping her legs up on the dashboard. "You'd been cooped up in the bowels'a the Maiden fer too long. I reckon you lost sight of how we operate., an' from what I understand, Boomhower was no walk in the park."
She bowed her head, "I can see it, ya' know? I can see what it did ta' ya'. Yer hurtin', Jake, an' I'm sorry." She sighed. "I sent you ta' Boomhower to show you how thin's will be fer us goin' forward. In fact, it will only get worse from here on out. In hindsight, save for Austin's attack, it was a bad idea ta' send you there. But," She bit her lip. "I needed you ta' know. I needed ya' ta' understand the danger we're all in."
Suddenly, Pixie shot a hand between the seats and grasped Ruffles' wrist. Squeezing it tight she muttered, "I was hopin' it'd scare you. Make ya' think twice about stayin' on the Maiden. Yer a smart guy, Jake, an' we've been workin' together fer a long time. You mean more ta' me than you could ever know, but if you have the option to get outta this war, I reckon you should take it. Yer so smart. You could do anythin' with that brain'a yers." She paused again. "I don' wanna lose you."
"O-Of course. D-do you have any-w-where we could t-take her?"
"I do have one idea Hannibal, might just be the sort of place we're looking for. Mind you, I haven't been back there for a good number of years, almost gotten a little homesick for Wolf Creek, and by extension the region of Caliburn. It's a nice area, you'd probably like it; Bandits aren't as big a problem on account of the Rangers helping to protect the borders. May not be as big as some of the other regions, but it holds itself well." Viola was openly smiling as she spoke about her home, it felt nice to talk about it again. She then noticed a tall structure out in the distance, if she had to guess, Viola assumed it was the hotel.
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