Tales of Midgar Messages 217-246 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 217 From: Dizzy XIII Date: Wed May 16, 2001 4:52am Subject: A Drink and a Couch (Vladimir and Elena) The time-line is pretty messed up here, so I'll go on what I feel is likely. From the events, you can probably figure out when this happens in relation to the other stuff. Written by Dizzy XIII. Edited by Hope Wilson. * * * * * * * * * * * * * A Drink and a Couch * * * * * * * * * * * * * Date: October 6, 2003 Time: Late afternoon Place: Sector 7, Rude's house 'I'll give you an update when I find out more...' he thought about what he told Hojo a day ago, '...and more I will find out soon,' Vladimir continued as he switched off the com unit. Walking up to his room to put it away, he thought aloud, "This will be a perfect time for a drink." Pocketing a PHS he got from Hojo, he went downstairs. Before he went outside into the cloudy weather, he grabbed a leather duster that he swung on his shoulders. 'Good thing about this place,' he admitted, 'it's not long to a hole to the slums.' He let himself fall through it when he had walked the few paces to it. Dropping down in an alley in sector seven slums, he didn't have to walk very long before arriving at the bar he and Rude had shared so many drinks. The bar was far from packed. But as the only ones who were there had not even been home before venturing to Tifa's bar, it was expected. Most people drink on the evenings. Tifa was slowly cleaning the counter, looking kind of bored. Hearing the door creak open, she raised her head. "Hey. Didn't expect you to be here so early," she asked a bit surprised. "Well, I might be busy later this evening, so I figured I'd stop by now," he smiled casually. "Usual?" She turned her back to him, starting to reach for a bottle. He sat down and placed his PHS on the counter in front of him, pressing a few buttons, making the display fade. "No, I'll just have a deadly drink." Reaching a little higher than she originally intended, she replied, "Rough day?" "Well, more boring actually. I've been trying to get some information, but all everybody is talking about is the hospital. I already know about that." She pointed to the television hung up in a corner with a glass in her hand. "I saw you on the news." She put it down. "Talking to some officer." Starting to mix two liquids, she continued, "Found out anything?" "No, he didn't know anything, and I didn't talk to STRIKE either." "Yeah, noticed they were there. Do you know anything of what happened that they didn't show on the news?" "Not much. Since Vindicar survived, he's probably at a guarded hospital, but I don't know if STRIKE has gotten any information from him." She put down the two bottles next to his PHS, pointed at it and asked, "Taking work with you?" "Yeah. I'd rather not, but right now, it's pretty much the only choice." As if on cue, the PHS beeped, making Tifa look up with raised eyebrows. Vladimir picked it up and read on the display. "Gotta go now." He downed his drink and pulled up a bill. "See you around." He nodded before leaving, "Till then." * * * * * * * * * * * * * Date: October 6, 2003 Time: Late afternoon Place: Sector 7, Rude's house It didn't take long until Vladimir once again was lying in the couch in Rude's house. He had his PHS to his ear, and was listening to it with interest. "This is most fortunate. We won't have to search more now," he grinned. "I never figured you as one who speaks with himself," Elena stated slightly smugly from the hallway, behind him. "I'm not. You're just not a very silent walker." "I'm barefoot!" "Since you've just stepped out of the shower, it's a given." "How did you... You weren't even home then." "That shampoo smell in your hair is still fresh. And I take it you like being a redhead?" "Well. Yeah... I think it looks good." "But do you know what first announced your presence?" "Creaking stair?" With a passionate tone in his voice, he slowly replied, "That steady, pulsating beat of your warm heart." "Now you're freaking me out," she stated with a steady voice. "Isn't it great?" He could feel her glare through his neck. "No. Besides, I'm getting used to it." "Good for you," he smiled. She tilted her head just a little forward with a slightly doubtful expression. "Then just tell me if you got too much blood in your veins." Her head fell forward and the doubtful expression became almost ridiculous. "If I weren't used to it, do you think I'd comfortable enough to stand here in a bathrobe?" Vladimir turned his head, and true enough, she was wearing a white robe. Walking over to the far end of the couch, she asked, "Could you move your feet? I wanna watch news." "There's a chair over there." He nodded at one of the two armchairs in the room. "But I won't see it as well from that angle. The sofa is right in front of the TV." Vladimir didn't budge. "Oh, well. Suit yourself." She promptly sat down on his legs. He still didn't budge. "Vladimir!" she yelled. Her tone was similar to that which one would use with a disobeying dog. "Move your feet this instant!" He caught her gaze for one second, then quickly swept down his legs from the couch. Elena, sitting on them, fell down and landed with her back on the thick carpet. That didn't stop her from hitting her head on the floor, just at the edge of the carpet. "Ow." She paused to clear her head before continuing dryly, "Gee, thanks." "Sorry," he smiled. "No, you're not. Just on the same spot as twenty-four hours ago. You don't want me to heal or what?" she asked, annoyed, and almost angry. "Your arm is almost completely healed now, if I'm not mistaken, and since you're actually a blonde, I don't see why anything would be damaged." "Ha, ha. Very funny. I'm laughing on the inside, believe me." Crawling up on the couch, she started to reach for the remote, but stopped, looking at Vladimir. Changing her gaze from annoyed to curious, she asked him, "Why do you act like this?" "What do you mean?" he asked, now more serious. "Act like this. Childish." "And you're not?" "No!" He gave her a look, making her blush a little. "Well, maybe a little. Maybe even a bit more than a little. But I don't understand why you act like you're a kid. I can deal with your new and so-called improved self, but isn't this a bit far?" "An informed question. The simple answer would be that I don't remember ever being a kid. Lotsa years ago, Hojo mixed a little with my mind. So I don't have any memories at all from before I was half a century old." "And you don't hate him for that?" "Not really. Five years ago, I couldn't remember much beyond fourty years. So I'm guessing it'll all come back to me in time. Besides, I have a feeling I didn't have much of a childhood anyway, so I don't mind not remembering it." "Don't you ever want to know your origins? I mean, you have to come from somewhere. Wouldn't it be useful to know where?" "Where do you think I went after I left Midgar last time? As far as I know, I'm either from Nibel Mountains or from a mountain in eastern Wutai. But I haven't found out anything about my family." "I know it's rude to ask, but how old are you?" He replied with a shrug. "Don't know, actually. I'm guessing I'm around 250, and I know I'm at least that old. But since I don't have any memory of myself feeling anything other than 'old enough', I can probably be a lot older. My race mostly lives to 1000, unless killed. But aging isn't the main problem by then; it's boredom. So I don't really know how old I can get either." He paused, coming back to the present. "Anyway, you should listen to this." He pushed a button on his PHS and threw it to her. After a few minutes of listening, she jumped up excitedly. "Come on! Let's go get them!" She practically skipped to the front door, with her eyes sparkling, wanting to get the mission over with. "Umm... Elena? Haven't you forgotten something?" "Like?" She looked at him for a second, then on herself. "Oh. Right. Um, gimmie five," she said while heading for the stairs, almost as quick as before. "Wait. We're not going down there now. There's too many people there now." "So what are we going to do and when?" She asked, one foot on the first step. "Midgar Tower. We're going to kill three birds with one stone." * * * * * * * * * * * * * Summary: Vladimir takes a drink at Seventh Heaven and chat with Tifa. Vladimir and Elena have a conversation about Vladimir's life before he lets her listen to information about their mission recorded on his PHS. ===== /Dizzy XIII __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! Auctions - buy the things you want at great prices http://auctions.yahoo.com/ 218 From: Jaymz Kamahlaan Date: Thu May 17, 2001 8:07am Subject: When I Grow Up... (Jaymz-4) Title: When I Grow Up... (Jaymz-4) Date :October 6th, 2003 Time: Late Evening Place: Sector 7 Jaymz had been doing some thinking. The events from the day before played fresh in his mind. He didn't want to fight anymore. He had enough of that. Fighting never got anything done. With that thought, he began to wonder why he'd even joined SOLDIER if he didn't take to fighting. He remembered that he wanted to do good. To help the innocent. Prevent wrongdoings. To fight for justice. There was that word again. Fight. He continued his walking. He had left the more scenic roof route a while ago and was currently on the streets of Midgar, looking for an inn, or any place that would suffice as shelter. And he needed to eat, seeing he didn't have any time earlier, entertaining the people, and also the gang incident occurred, robbing him of some well needed nourishment. Jaymz was feeling somewhat melancholic. He felt lost. In a city with a population possibly 1/3 of the whole known world, he felt alone. In a minute, his logic center reacted to that, ruling it down to lack of nourishment and most importantly chocolate. Why chocolate, he'd never know. He put it away in a corner of his mind, remembering to look for some later. A couple of meters from the inn that he was headed to, Jaymz looks at the walls around him. So clear-cut. Full of purpose. Just stay there and keep the building standing. If only he knew his purpose. Then, he looks at a poster. MSF, it says. All of a sudden, Jaymz feels a happiness he hasn't felt in a long time. He has a purpose. With that, he proceeds to the inn, thinking of all the possibilities of joining the MSF. To serve and protect, the poster said. That was his purpose. Summary: Jaymz does some thinking, and realizes he wants to join the MSF >OOG: Still not up to what I expected it to be. Feeling down > these few days. That would most likely explain the mood > of the post. Q, C + C welcome, as always. 219 From: Date: Sun May 20, 2001 8:30am Subject: "The List" (Ambrose--III) ---------- Title: The List (Ambrose--III) Date: october 6, 2003 Time: Indeterminate (11:00 AM--3:00 PM) Place: Sector 4, Under the plate Alleyways always provided the best cover, Ambrose thought. Isaiah hadn't been at the specified Rendevous point. The Shapeshifter was useless. Although it did allow Ambrose an excuse to get out into the field, and not get stuck behind his desk pushing papers all day. He had promised the Prime Minister two years ago he would deliver her a highly efficient Special Unit. Up until a few days ago, it had been him and Rude. The Midgar Unspecified Services was, in all truth, a flop, Ambrose admitted it. But it was a salvageable flop. Three men were walking out of the bar across the street, one was a large man with a buzz cut, another was a middle sized man with a neatly trimmed Mustache, and the third was a small rat-like man. The third was Isaiah, Ambrose could tell, he had seen his "Mission Face" or at least one of them. He began moving forward, the large man laughed loudly, at some quip the second had made. Perfect timing, Ambrose smashed into the third, and in the resulting impact, pulled a paper from his pocket. "Oh, so sorry, sir, I did not mean to run into you," Ambrose said, allowing a thick, obscure accent to creep into his voice. He had dressed in the clothes of a petty thief, not the kind of person to bother to steal from the companion of such a large person as the first man. "Sa'right," Isaiah said, "happens all the time." Ambrose reached forward, and offered his hand to him, the shapeshifter accepted it, and said "No hard feelings." Ambrose left a paper in his hand, folded neatly, with instructions on it. He retreated into the bar. Ambrose's office was a mess. He had changed into his suit again, but had left his hair in the state of disarray it had found for itself. The list was to long. That was one way of saying it. It shouldn't be that long. To many officials had been corrupted, and several higher-ups. BLUFF had been very busy lately. [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] 220 From: Date: Mon May 21, 2001 3:20am Subject: Further Transformations - Khali Yulices OOG: Bear with me if parts of this story are not as fluid as other parts. My right wrist is dreadfully sore, typing is straining it, and I'm rather tired. It should all make sense. October 6, 2003 7:46 PM Outskirts of Junon Territory --------------------------------------------- Exhaustion had set in about an hour ago. Her muscles ached, and only through her pure will and the Red XIII DNA-strains did they keep moving. The sparking mechanical arm hunt limply at her side, her left hand holding the loosened and breaking metal components against the raw and bloodied flesh of her shoulder muscles. But Khali pressed on, shoes slamming against the earth with each step. She was glad it was dark out. The last red-orange rays of the sun had crept behind the thick incoming clouds. The darkness meant that she would see Hojo's rescue team, but it also meant that she wouldn't be able to see as well as she could. As if on cue, a sort of sixth sense kicked in, darkness clearing to sight, and scent guiding her path. She had no clue where the rally point would be, but she had to get as far from Junon as possible. Weariness again struck her with its heavy hand, her thigh and calf muscles burning from the pressure and pumping. Involuntarily she slowed her running, her right foot hooking under a log as she lost control of her body. She tripped forward, slamming into the ground voiolently, her face bouncing off the hard ground with a thud. Her left hand went limp as she lost consciousness, rolling onto her back her last movement. Blood began to trickle from the new gash on her forehead. *** "Confirmation. The body is Miss Yulices." Two men stood next to Khali's body, one kneeling beside her and moving various medical instruments over her, the other standing and talking into a radio. "She's in bad shape. Do we move her?" The kneeling man frowned and grumbled, shooting two shots of a yellow liquid into her bloody stream. "Captain.. She has no vital signs. If this doesn't work, then it means her blood isn't flowing." He stood up, turning to face the man on the radio. The captain sighed. "We have found no vital signs. Do we bring the body back for examination?" The captain turned around as well, his manner of respect for the dead. He took a few steps away, bowing his head as if saying a prayer, still talking to the people on the other end. The transformation started with her face. The mouth grew out, nose receding and moving with it, her teeth adapting in sharpness and size. Reddish hair grew all over the body as it too grew in size, clothes shredding and tearing. The bionic arm ripped off of the shoulder as a large arm grew from the socket, only barely hanging from skin and muscle in the back. Her legs became longer, pads forming on the bottoms of her feet as the nails became longer and sharper. At the end of the huge arms were a human's hands, with sharp black nails growing from the fingers. The beast stood. "As you wish, sir. Nelson, take the body and get ready to move out." A warm liquid splashed up against the back of his neck. "Nelson?" The captain turned around, radio dropping in sync with his jaw at the scene that welcomed him. The beast's hand through the man's back, reaching through to his stomach, holding him up by his backbone. The man fell as the hand uncoiled. "Wha.. wha.. Commander!" The captain yelled into his hand, not realizing the radio had dropped, though the other side could still hear him, albeit faintly. "Kh-kh-ali.. Monster!" The black nails raked across his face, tearing flesh, cartilage, and cheekbone alike, hands so big that the claws ripped into his throat as well. A gurgled blood-filled shriek was all that came next as his lungs and heart were ripped out with his rib cage. The beast leaned back, bright firey mane of hair flowing in the wind as it raised its bloodied claws to the sky in an offering, letting out a loud tiger's howl. It then dropped down and into a quadraped stance, running into the night. *** October 6, 2003 8:30 PM Recovery Vehicle, Junon/Fort Condor Neutral Zone -------------------------------------------------------------------- "Flood the area with lights." The calm voice of the neatly-groomed man filled the silent room of terrified people, both from the howl and what little audio they had. "Snap out of it, people. We have a job to do. Fill the area with lights, NOW." The forceful tone shook most of his men free, spotlights flashing over the ground. "Movement on our Southern end, sir." "Visual." The camera on spoitlight 2 directed the images to the main screen, images of the firey creature. "Take it. Do not let it escape. A new species, one that the professor will want to study. That is what killed our men - kill it, if you have to." "Commander? Look here!" A second operator zoomed in on the back of the creature. "What do you make of the arm?" "Do NOT let it escape! Full tranq and electrical rounds, NOW. That is our target, proceed into full rescue alert!" The vehicle roared to life as the drivers poured the engines on, chasing after the beast. Gunners locked on, firing ammo with enough tranquilizer in the bullets to take down heavy game. The beast slowed, an electrical net pushing it into unconsciousness. The vehicle stopped a safe distance away. "Secure it. Call for Evac, now. Find the two dead, and take them in as well." *** October 6, 2003 8:35 PM Capture Sight --------------------------------------------------------------------- Guns aimed, the three men sent to secure the beast slowly crept toward the net. There was no large hump in it any longer, instead being close to the ground. Two pulled the net back, one aiming the gun for the center, just in case. The evac copter landed just a few feet away, the rustling wind from the blades blowing the net off - revealing only the face-down, shattered bionic arm fully detached and a few inches away, naked body of Khali, a growing pool of her crimson blood leaking from her shoulder. The medics quickly secured her, wrapping up the shoulder to preserve the tender flesh and to stop the bleeding, quickly loading her onto the helicopter for immediate transport to the professor. [Summary: Khali falls unconscious after being on the run from Junon for hours and is found by the recovery, only to lose her slight control of the beast roaming inside of her. She transforms and slaughters the two that found her, and then is captured. She is loaded up for transport after resuming her normal human form.] 221 From: Matt The Kaiser Date: Tue Jun 12, 2001 0:48am Subject: Zeng & Kytira: The Ritual Date: October 5th, 9:00 PM Place: "The Cooked Icicle" "Thank you," Kytira sat down in the chair the waiter pulled out from the table for her as Zeng took a seat across the small table from her. The strings of the orchestra music from the sound system in the restaurant kicked in and the waiter smiled warmly, handing both of them a menu before leaving. "I'll give you two a few minutes to decide on your drinks--" Kytira silenced him by opening the wine menu and pointing at the last bottle on the wine list. She paused a moment and quickly glanced up at Zeng. His expression remained the same, no trace of panic... as always. Kytira's finger trailed up slightly to the third last bottle, "That one." The waiter nodded, "Ah, good choice, Miss." He then left them. Kytira quietly watched the waiter leave before looking at Zeng as he opened his menu and scanned the items. Her mind floated away with the music of a solo violin playing until she was only aware of her blinking and nothing else. Her eyes settled from its distant gaze into space to Zeng's arms, hidden by the vambraces. The image of the grafted materia, crystalized and glittering, on his arms came back to her. "I think I was trying not to notice that there was something..." she thought before snapping back to reality when Zeng noticed she was staring and placed his arms to be somewhat hidden from her view by the table. She smiled awkwardly, embarrassed as she turned her head to the side to avoid conversation as the waiter came back with a wine bottle and two fluted glasses in hand. She remained silent as she watched the waiter gracefully and effortlessly poured their drinks. "Alright then," he smiled, "What can I get for you two this evening?" The waiter glanced at the two of them. Kytira made no effort to order first. Sensing this, Zeng cleared his throat, "I'll take the fillet of perch, no sides please." The waiter nodded and took the menu from him, "Very good, sir," he turned to Kytira, "And you?" Kytira glanced up, opened her menu and immediately homed in on the most expensive dish on the menu. "That," she answered, closing and returning the menu as the waiter arched an eyebrow before leaving. Kytira wasn't even sure what she had ordered, she just looked at the prices. Placing her hands on the table and lightly holding the white cloth napkin hand, she sighed softly. Again, she remained silent with no attempt to change the current situation. "This music is getting to me," she thought. "I don't know whether to cry, laugh or kick someone's ass right now...." She tightly wrung the cloth in her hands. *** “Thank you,” Kytira lowered herself into the chair across from Zeng as he took his own seat. A few moments later, the expensive sound system began to reproduce an orchestral piece, which Zeng quietly enjoyed as he watched Kytira’s finger travel to the bottom of the wine list, then, with a glance in his direction, Kytira selected something an inch or so up from the bottom. Congratulating her on her choice, the waiter left the two of them alone with their menus. Zeng’s eyes immediately darted to the most expensive item on the menu, for of course Kytira would order it, quickly tallying its price with a rough estimate of the price of wine, a reasonable tip, and the fillet of perch. Zeng hated perch. “I should really find a new way of apologizing, ” he thought to himself as he completed his arithmetic, “this will set me…” Kytira’s silver stare drew his attention away from the check. It was his arms. Watching her stare for a moment, he became aware of an expression of disgust forming on her features. Unable to blame her (after all, they were hideous), Zeng moved slightly, accidentally drawing those eyes, glowing as a side affect of mako-infusion, to his. Instantly hers darted away from him, and his arms lowered under the table, where they were less likely to disturb her. Upon the waiter’s return, Zeng ordered his perch and Kytira ordered her usual dish, whatever was most expensive. Zeng hated perch. A sigh from Kytira momentarily interrupted the silence between them. “Depressed?” Zeng thought to himself, “Why?” she was wringing the little white cloth napkin in her hands as if she was nervous, an interesting change for Zeng. “Usually when I’m treating her to a…” Zeng’s eyes caught sight of the wine list still sitting on the table “… Cetra! expensive restaurant, it’s because I’m about to apologize. I should be the nervous one…. Kytira?” He spoke up. “Yes?” She looked at him expectantly, what was to come had already came on a thousand such dinners and might as well have been scripted, yet Zeng went through it every time. “The way I acted in the hospital… it was very unprofessional.” No, that was not good enough, “I lost control, I practically destroyed the interrogation, and I…” this part always seemed to trip him up. Exactly what had he done to her? “treated you poorly, I had no right to be angry with you.” He concluded, “I’m sorry Kytira.” Kytira nodded, "I-it's okay, really...um..." She hesitated, "I don't blame you for what happened, it's.. uh... understandable." She paused briefly. "I guess." She turned her head away slightly and made a quick face expression of pain before returning to her normal self. "Idiot!" she silently scolded herself. "What's wrong with you today???!" Zeng looked at her oddly, "You okay?" "Yeah," she replied, frowning slightly., "Hmph, I guess I should've gone with a little bit of the old self-righteousness before actually telling him it's ok...." She thought, then made another face, "Ugh... Bitch!" "Your wine--" the waiter set the glass in front of Kytira, startling her. "--Gah!" Kytira's eyes widened slightly and the waiter regarded her oddly. She forced herself to smile feebly before the waiter gave Zeng his drink and leaving the bottle at the table. Zeng quietly watched Kytira as she grabbed the wine glass and quickly drank half of her glass like usual... but too fast than the normal. "Ahh..." she breathed, setting the glass down and tilting her head back with her eyes closed with a slight smile on her face. "How is it?" he asked. The silver eyes blinked, "What?... Oh, the wine?" She facefaulted, "... Oh... I drank it too fast..." "Yes, I noticed," he replied briskly, taking a sip of the wine. "Are you sure you're okay?" She sighed, "Not really..." She looked down at the empty space between the silverware. "I guess because of what's happened, my stress-level is shot." She ran her fingers through her hair and continued on. "I blame myself for that. If the interrogation had just gone your way and I hadn't interfered so much, we would've remained in the room and he wouldn't have gotten away... damn." She sighed bitterly and shook her head "Showing compassion to the enemy... I think I'm getting soft." A brief, inappropriate laugh escaped Zeng, "You're not getting soft," he quickly regained his composure, unconsciously reaching across the table for her hand, "You were just being human. I was so caught up in the desire to punish someone for it that I didn't really care whom. Right now we have a sure witness to a bombing on the loose, and a bomber on the loose. For all we know, we had one of those already. If Vindicar is the bomber though, the point is moot." She arched an eyebrow momentarily, "It's pointless for us to run around the city looking for him, so I've put about a hundred different traces on the guy. There's so many people looking for him that if he so much as uses a public restroom I'll be called." "How did you manage that?" He had piqued her interest, but this wasn't the way he wanted the conversation to go at this point, so he simply smiled and shook his head. "An old family secret," he took in a quick breath so he could continue uninterrupted, "But that aside, I've been lying to you for the past 4 years, I shouldn't have tried to hide it from you so long. I'm sorry," he paused momentarily and hung his head, "Whenever anyone sees 'them,' they never look at me the same way again. It's because they know, they know for sure that I'm some freakish, unnatural creation. When it's just the records, the fact that I was in Beta, no one seems to care, especially not former SOLDIER members like you, but once they see exactly what I am," he shrugged slightly, "They stare, they look away, they start avoiding me, it's all anyone thinks about." Kytira lowered her head, "Sorry." "It's alright." The waiter arrived, both steaming plates in hand and each one matched to the person. "If you will be needing anything else, do not hesitate to call for me." With that, the waiter left. Kytira quietly ate her meal, her eyes not leaving the tablecloth. Several minutes passed before she finally spoke up, "You know, if you just wanted to apologize, you don't have to take me out to dinner. It's become a ritual or something...." She leaned back in her chair and smiled, "I don't want you to go broke." "That's a relief," he responded, too quickly. Kytira laughed, slightly embarrassed, "And I'm sorry for ordering expensive food every time. I thought for sure you'd try to ask me if that's what I really want or convince me to get something else." She re-filled her wine glass as Zeng looked at her oddly. "'If that's what I really want...' ?" he repeated her words and glanced down at the half-finished lobster and the spot where the caviar she ordered used to be. She nodded, setting her glass down and wiping her lips with a napkin, "I don't really like lobster," she admitted. "Same goes for caviar... the idea of eating fish eggs creeps me out." "But you finished your caviar..." he pointed out. Kytira turned red as she lifted up a few lettuce leaves with her fork to reveal the stashed caviar, "Sorry.... uhm, do you want it?" “No,” Zeng laughed uneasily and shook his head, “Whenever I eat something like that all I taste is Gil. ” Summary: Zeng and Kytira go to dinner where Zeng apologizes and reveals having Azrael tracked. _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com 222 From: Ashleigh G. Date: Mon Jun 18, 2001 2:51pm Subject: A Shattered Kalm A shattered Kalm.... Valarie sat in a chair beside her vanity in her parent’s house on Kalm. The window on the far side of the room was open and a faint breeze ruffled the curtains. It swirled in and teased her auburn hair before it slowed and added to the oppressive nighttime heat in the small room. Katana slept soundly on the bed, the tip of his tongue protruding from his mouth and making him look more than a little silly. Valarie shook her head. That cat. She stood and stretched, then walked over to tickle the kitten’s tummy. He rolled over and weakly kicked his hind leg. “You lazy old thing.” Katana merely sighed and rolled back over. “You don’t care, do you?” Valarie smiled. Maybe I’ll take you with me when I go back... Suddenly she heard a sound, a familiar sound, the sound of the safety being released on a gun. Years of living on the wrong side of the law took over and she ducked back beside the window. She held her breath and glanced over at the Sniper CR rifle sitting on the vanity, a forever away. If someone was gunning for her she would never make it that far. She cast around for something, anything she could use for a weapon. A small red dot arrested her attention and her heart leapt to her throat as she realized what it was. The lazar targeting sight for a sniper rifle. She didn’t dare to breathe as the dot roamed around the room, searching for her. It played over the mirror and reflected back onto the sniper, there was a flash of white as gunman grinned and continued searching for her. There was no way to tell how long this game of cat and mouse would have lasted had Katana not decided his nap was over. He rose and stretched, arching his back and extending his claws. Three shots rang in the darkness and Valarie launched herself onto the vanity. Her hands closed around the grip of the Sniper CR and she aimed for the little red dot that marked her attacker's weapon. She was rewarded by a grunt and a muffled thud. She rolled off the vanity and crouched in the floor, waiting to see if the assassin was alone. Once she was sure he was alone she stood and began packing. I have to leave now; I can’t endanger my parents. She wrote a quick letter about something coming up, her having to leave and for them not to worry. She put on David's old leather jacket and grabbed his helmet. I'll use David's old motercycle. She was all packed and had just swung her satchel over her shoulder when she happened to glance at the bed. “Oh, my god! Katana!” She dropped her satchel and it landed with a thump. She knelt by the bed and reached out to touch the kitten but quickly jerked her hand back. Not you too, Katana, not you too...Tears rolled down her cheeks and she felt her heart ache with the unexpected loss. She felt something deep down inside die slowly along with the fluffy gray animal. Whatever innocents had remained, whatever happy memories had influenced her actions slowly seeped out with the little kitten’s warm blood. Valarie carefully took the note she had written and ripped it to shreds. Let my parents think what they want. She thought bitterly. Perhaps in a way, their daughter is dead. She picked up her satchel and climbed out the window, leaping easily across the window a few feet away, where the assassin had been waiting. A cursory examination revealed that he had died from a gunshot wound to the head. Not bad for a shot from the hip. She quickly searched the man’s belongings, hoping to find some clue as to who had hired him. She didn’t really expect the find a note that said. : So and so hired this guy to kill the PeaceMaker. David had suggested that name, The PeaceMaker. The thought brought a new pang of bitterness. She had almost given up hope that the search would yield any results, when she found a slip of paper, a bar tab. The name on it was smeared with blood but she could make out the address. Midgar. “Well then.” She muttered. “It looks like The PeaceMaker is going to make an appearance at Midgar.” She left the house and rolled the motorcycle out of town before she started it. She rode most of the night and arrived in Midgar just as the sky turned that grayish color that signified the arrival of the sun. She stopped at the first bar she came to without bothering to read the sign that bore it's name. She stepped inside and pulled her helmet off, allowing her hair to cascde down her back. She walked up to the bar. "I'll have a Bloody Mary." ((OOC: You guys can determain if it's 7th heaven or not.)) _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com 223 From: Kat Cox Date: Tue Jun 19, 2001 3:22pm Subject: 2nd Kirinyaga Post Kirin woke up at six am to the sound of her alarm clock buzzing shrilly from underneath her pillow. Lifting herself onto her elbows, she fumbled blindly under the pillow, found the switch and turned it off. Then she let herself drop back onto the bed again, so she was lying on her front breathing in the comforting smell of compacted pillow and a trace of her Grandma's herbal hair mixture. Gotta get up...get up NOW.....she thought to herself. Sighing, she rolled over and sat up. She stretched and pulled the cover aside, cringing with the coldness of the air. "Ok...here goes.." She whispered aloud. Bracing herself, she swung her legs to the side and slowly lowered them to just above the concrete floor. She could feel the coldness radiating upwards already. "I thought heat was supposed to rise!" she said to herself. Typical, even physics was against her. She smiled to herself at her own madness: if Azeron walked in now to find her talking to herself he'd throw a fit and who knows what he would do. The thought of a ballistic Azeron brought her back to earth. Get up! She shook her head muzzily, then, slowly, she let first her right and then her left foot rest on the hard cold floor. Keeping them there for a while to get used to the coldness, she made a mental note to buy at least two rugs. That way she could stand on one and move the other to where she next wanted to stand. Feeling fully awake she stood up, scooped up her clothes and headed over to the bathroom, wincing with the cold at every step. Stepping into the bathroom and locking the door behind her, and all the time she was showering, drying and dressing she was going over her dance moves for that night. She quietly stepped out of the bathroom, tip toed across the main room to where Azeron lay on the sofa bed. She smiled through the gloom: he looked so sweet when he was asleep. Shame about the rest of the time but never mind. "Az?" she whispered softly, quiet as she could. Her answer came shortly, and in true Azeron style. "Mph." Then he rolled over and snuggled deeper into the bed. Lucky trout. He didn't have to get up early. Sighing and walking over to the cupboard she made herself what her Grandma would have called an "Optimist's Breakfast" (a bowl and hope there's something edible in it) from last night's leftovers. Scooping up a handful of crumbs for the birds, she picked up her purse and silently left the trailer home. Then she turned round and headed back in again. This time she left a note before leaving: Az- Gone shopping with bonus money. If needed in Wall Market. KEEP OUT OF MY ROOM AND OUT OF MY STUFF. Have a nice day. Be back around nine. Kirin Satisfied, she turned and once more left their tiny trailer home. Wandering through Wall Market she was glad of her early rise. It was almost deserted, as not many people could be bothered to get up this early, or even knew there were any shops open. Walking a little nervously into the clothes shop, she was knocked over by a complete stranger. He was about her age, and looked her up and down as he held out his hand to help her up. "Not bad babe...why dontcha go down to the Don's? He likes girls like you...." "No thanks. I already have a job." "Oh yeah? Betcha could make a whole lot more at the Bumblebee. The pays great and the tips are even better. Bet a girl like you with a body like yours would love to show off. You look just the type to take her kit off for a few gil-OOF!" Kirin had finally snapped. She grabbed his shoulders, brought him down towards her and brought her knee sharply into his groin to cut him off. "Fight dirty" her Grandma had told her. "Get a man in his nuts and he'll soon shut up, but if you're gonna stand around telling him or asking him to go first then you might as well not bother and beat yourself up." "Sorry, but the pay isn't that great. And I don't take my "kit" off. And if you ever look at me like that again, I'll get you, understand?" Saying, she stepped over him and into the clothes shop. She felt guilty, but it was the only way, and she knew that it was always unexpected from a "girl like her". And they were always willing to listen; pain sharpened the senses. Browsing slowly through the coats she felt a sudden pang at her heart. She looked down at the bright hawaiian shirt on the rail underneath. It reminded Kirin of someone....someone important? Frowning slightly, she had another look at the coats. This time she was almost physically sick with the pain: infront of her was a perfectly innocent black leather jacket, with a perfectly innocent flame design along the bottom hem. The pattern reminded her of someone too. Someone had had hair like that...someone who had worn hawaiian shirts. A man. No, he was about her age. She narrowed her eyes and absent mindedly twisted a strand of purple hair, concentrating. Friendly...even with flame contacts...kinda gothic...nice...shy too... Her eyes widened. He had spent a night in the trailer, and she could remember everything about how he looked and how he acted, but what was his name? He'd just taken off in the morning, and she'd never seen him again, and Azeron had been upset because he'd had to sleep on the floor, and then there'd been a big fight... She had decided to forget about him, he had just brought trouble. But it was only a couple of days ago, why couldn't she remember the name? Then came the saving thought: men are trouble. Get him out of your head. Who cares what his name is? He is nothing but pain. Forget him. Even so, she eventually chose a long, black, fitted leather coat that had a tie at the waist. It also had a small pattern of flames along the bottom hem. Purse alot lighter, she decided to have a look around the other shops. It was her turn to cook dinner, so she might as well make something interesting. But all the time she was choosing and weighing out vegetables, no matter how bizarre, her mind kept returning to a special, flame haired someone. She must have looked worried, because the stall keeper asked her "Are you alright miss?" Kirin burst into tears. "Its all my fault!" She wailed. "i pushed him away, and now...now I can't even remember his name!" Trying to control herself, Kirin took another shuddery breath, but this only made her cry harder and louder with fresh warm tears. "And it was only a few days ago!!" With horror she realised the entire Wall Market had gone quiet. Snatching up her bags she ran as fast as she could back to their trailer, the huge blinding tears streaming down her face and making the world seem pearly white. Everything was so distorted, and she was running so fast that she didn't see the huge metal bar propped against the mass of scrap piled at the edge of the path. She hit it full pelt, went flying forwards and landed flat on her face in the dirt. Strange shaped vegetables rolled past her from out of the split shopping bag. Kirin didn't care, though, and just lay there for a few minutes, before heaving herself up, wandering round vaguely collecting bizarrely shaped vegetables and then setting off for home and Azeron. Hopefully he wouldn't throw a fit. It was a different Kirin that unlocked the door to the trailer home. Her face was dirty, with two clean trails down her cheeks where tears had wiped away the grime.Her clothes and arms were covered in dust, she had a graze on one cheek, and a nasty gash on her right arm. Her new coat was already in need of a wash, as were the rest of her clothes, but she still had a full shopping bag of food. "Home." She dropped the shopping bag and flopped on the sofa bed, leaned her head back and held a hand to her forehead. "Bloody Hell, Kirin, what happened to you?!" Azeron looked pointedly at the dirt and the gash that was trickling blood slowly down her arm. "Fell over." She turned and looked at him with eyes red from crying. As she did, they started filling up again, so she looked away hurriedly. "Kirin, its ok, you can tell me. You can trust me, Kirin. I share a trailer with you, damnit! I'm your friend, and besides, who would I tell?" "Azeron it was horrible!!" She started crying again, and overcome with tears buried her head in his warm shoulder. Caught off guard by this sudden emotional display, he carefully put his arm round her and patted her back uncertainly. "Its ok...now tell me what happened." And, tears streaming down her face, and breath coming in short gulps, she curled up to Azeron, shut her eyes and recounted to him everything from her childhood, all the beatings and unfair punishments, how her step father had acted when he found out about the tattoo...the day she found out about her real Dad running out on them...right up to finally running to Midgar after THAT happened, and then everything about her mysterious visitor from two days ago. She forgot who she was with, and only thought about the stories from her past she was now dredging up, the horrors and the joys...but somewhere at the back of her mind was the small suggestion of how safe it was in these strong arms, how warm and how secure...how nice to have someone caring about you, to know you weren't alone in the world...it had been a long day, and she was tired, how nice it would be to fall asleep in these strong, safe arms...she was just dozing off when something warm and liquid trickled uickly down her arm and off her finger. Kirin jumped up in shock. Staring wide eyed in disbelief, she slowly turned to face Azeron. Her face was white, and she felt sick and dizzy. "Kirin, what the fuck?!" Then he looked down to where her arm was cut. "SHIT, KIRIN!" He grabbed her and pulled her over to the sink. Numbly, Kirin held her arm over the sink, and watched Azeron bandage it as best he could with the trailer's meagre medical supplies that were kept in a lunch box under the sink. "Kirin are you ok?" She swayed slightly. Blood. Her blood. Running down her arm. Down to her hand. Dropping off her finger. On the floor. Splashing, making little blood puddles around a bigger blood puddle. She started to see black shapes before her eyes, her hearing grew muffled, and she couldn't stand, the ground was moving too much. It was swinging backwards, forwards, sideways, then right up to meet her. "Az-" she whispered before she passed out. Appendix:- Fortunately, she came round about ten minutes later. Her head ached and she was tired, so tired. Exhaustion, fatigue,emotional exhuastion and dehydration had caused her to faint. Summary:- Amnesia is a terrible thing, and going through lots of really intense emotions in a short period of time is incredibly draining. Kirin finds this out the hard way. _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. 224 From: Jay Steen Date: Tue Jun 19, 2001 3:52pm Subject: Bar Brawl (Az & Tory) Bar Brawl Tory looked into the window of a store, and smiled. She slipped her hands into the deeply cut pockets of her ripped jeans, and absently leaned against the glass. Her hair was pulled back from her face, but a few wisps had escaped. Her mismatched eyes surveyed everything, and yet, nothing. She had flipped something out of her pocket, and raised an eyebrow at the passers-by. Silently she straightened and walked quietly to a loud, rowdy bar. Azeron was celebrating his victory in the shot-drinking contest with yet more alcohol. But when Tory stepped in, something clicked in his head. "I know her from somewhere...but where..." Azeron smiled, and took another swig of the bar. He shoved off a drunken woman who was hanging round his shoulders, and turned to look. He still couldn't quite place who it was. Two pairs of eyes met each other's, and hers hardened. The electricity in the room was so great that most of the drunks fell silent. Even in their drunken stupor, they understood that they shouldn't interfere. Her lips curved in a smile, the cruel smile of a cat before it rips it's prey's head off. She stalked over and pulled up a chair to the bar, suddenly ignoring him. "The usual, Tony." She said with a wink, and the silence was suddenly filled again. "Aha! I know! That was the woman from the first thieving job I went on!" Azeron thought, and tapped the woman on the shoulder. She turned around, and looked innocent. "Are you...what's your... have I seen you around before?" He asked, trying not to sound nervous. "Yeah...you look familiar..." Her sweet smile immediately went sour. She stood up and slammed him against the bar, sending glasses flying in all directions. "YOU'RE THE BASTARD WHO USED MATERIA ON ME!" She fumbled for a switchblade, anything. "DAMN YOU!" “Uh, who, me?” Azeron tried to look innocent, but the brandishing of a blade made him realise it wasn’t working. He ducked out of the way as the switchblade slammed into the wooden bar, splintering the tabletop. The previously quiet bar was now shouting and screaming at the two combatants, furiously lunging and twisting and punching and kicking. She grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it dangerously close to his head. "YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK TO GET THAT OFF?" She screeched, shoving him backwards again. Her switchblade was being brandished again, and she snarled. "My arm STILL hurts! You didn't even finish off Hari...talk about an AMATEUR!" “Well sor-ry miss perfect thief! You’re the one who can’t slink around and gets your arm frozen by an ‘AMATEUR’!” Azeron shouted back at her, which seemed to invoke even more rage. The bottle near his head was thrust at him, and although it didn’t hit, several pieces of glass stuck in his shoulder and face. His knife ripped upwards in a final swipe at Tory. She howled as it sliced her shoulder, and switched hands with the blade. Clutching her shoulder with one hand and the knife in the other, she spat in his face. In only seconds, as soon as the bartender saw both were injured, two very burly ‘bouncers’ threw them into the street who were only glad to smash someone into concrete. Tory hit the ground, already drunk enough to not feel too much pain. Even the half of a glass she'd swallowed was enough to send her into 'happy happy' land. She staggered forwards after pulling herself upwards, and looked at him with fire in her eyes. "You bastard." She snarled, pocketing her switchblade, and then grinned. "I'm Tory." Azeron could perceive very little of his surroundings, partly because he was drunk, and partly because he had several shards of glass stuck into his face. “I’m Azeron…how do you do…’cos I feel like shit after that. I feel like someone just stuck a glass bottle in my face.” "An' my shoulder feels like hell's fire." Tory just laughed, and dragged him upward into a standing position. “C’mon, let's find someone who can get the shit off of your face and my frickin' shoulder wrapped up." Azeron smiled at her as he staggered along, and said, “Yeah, let’s do that…oh yeah…what’s your name again?” "Tory Allanie!" She giggled drunkenly. "What'd you say yers was?" “Az…er…on…I can’t remember!” He replied merrily. “Ok, Azeron Icantremember. I got it,” she said, stumbling slightly. “Stupid name, huh?” “Stupid names…for stupid…people…” Azeron trailed off as the two thieves tripped over themselves heading to Tory’s home. Tory opened the door of a rotted-through door, letting him walk through and wincing as the door slammed shut. The small apartment was completely trashed, but she barely seemed to notice it. It looked as though a storm had hit it, and she threw herself down on the only place to sit in the whole room: a ratty, overstuffed couch with foam spilling out of the sides. In the corner was a rusted sink, with something that looked suspiciously like blood permanently stained in it. The floor, once flat, was now full of splinters, and empty beer bottles, weapons, and trash littered the floor. "Make yourself at home." She said lazily. Just then, there was a knock at the door. It wasn't a polite knock, more a rough knock of someone trying to hold onto something heavy. "Can you get it?" Tory smiled. "Uh, sure. Whatever," Azeron mumbled, feeling the pieces of glass still stuck to his shoulder. "Are you gonna help me get these out?" "If you answer the door!" She replied cheerfully, swinging her legs around so she was in a sitting position. Her cocky half-smile was on her face again. "Do me a favour, though. If it's the man who fought you on the train...slam the door in his face." Azeron nodded, feeling slightly dazed. He stumbled over to the door and pulled it open haphazardly, half leaning on the rotten wood. In front of him stood the bulky figure of Hari, Tory's loyal pitbul. Hari grunted and shoved him out of the way. His muscular arms were full of groceries, which he slammed down onto the kitchen's half-collapsed counter. There were fresh scars on his cheek, and he cracked his knuckles, looking at the other man suspiciously. "Dragging trash home again, Tory?" “No, actually, she’s not,” Azeron spoke up before Tory could reply. “I’m about to die, and…” With that Azeron collapsed onto the floor. Hari looked at the man on the floor, and laughed. "You left glass in him, Tory. I'd recognise your fighting style anywhere." She looked up from the couch at the slumped body, and sighed. She stood and both of them kneeled. "We'd better take him to Tony. He knows the most about healing..." “Nah, let’s just give him a kick and shove him out. Looks like the kinda guy no one would care about anyway,” Hari laughed. “I don’t know, I…” but Tory’s objections were too late, Hari was already dragging the corpse-like figure down the stairs to the exit. Summary: Tory and Azeron have a fight and they both become friends afterward. Tory takes Azeron back to her house but Harri OOG: We've been writing this for ages but i kept losing it! _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com 225 From: Rosette Walsh Date: Thu Jun 21, 2001 2:46am Subject: Carla's intro Subject: Carla’s intro Time: Around mid morning Date: October 6th? Place: Apartment in Junon [OOG: My first post, Carla’s intro (sound) “speak” “”] Carla yawned as she looked at the clock on the opposite wall, 10:15. She yawned again and stood up, pulled on a robe and shuffled to the kitchen to make some strong coffee. It wasn’t much of a house, but it was home, rent was cheap and it was better than staying on the street. Not that Carla was poor, this was a bargain to get such a big apartment for such a small amount of gil, she smiled to herself as she remembered chatting up the Landlord into giving it to her for half-price. Fat paychecks came in for her every so often that she could buy a huge apartment or even a house, but she preferred not to anchor herself down to one place for too long, force of habit. As she sipped the hot, black liquid other thoughts gathered in her mind about people she knew, and for how long; Galia her older sister, the widow who took them in, the circus and the ninja school and it’s teachers and students. (Ring, ring, ring, ring…), her PHS was ringing from somewhere in her room, (ring, ring, ring…Beep…)”Hello?” She said groggily. “” a perky voice came over the phone, Galia. “Basically, what do you want, some easy target for a new joke?”, “”, “GALIA!”, “”, “It’s not a joke, I have a job, wadda ‘bout you, I nearly had a heart attack when I heard you joined the Turks”. The phone was silent before a whistling noise was heard in the background, “Galia, Galia are you there?!”, “”, “Galia?…” (beep, beep, beep). She sighed, they were so alike, yet so distant. “Well, better get ready for work, can’t be late while trying to make and impression on the boss”. She showered hastily and dressed before walking out the door into the sunny streets of the seaside town of Junon. When she applied for the position in the elite force dubbed the Turks, she had been bombarded with information from before the revolution about certain events. Black 36, the AVALANCHE execution gone wrong but ended with their leader Barret Wallace being shot, bits and pieces about various lab specimens and freaks that had escaped and run loose around Midgar. She was glad she left before these happenings, even if it was the slums, they were a lot better when she lived there than what it became after she left. *********FLASHBACK********* Life in Midgar was not that glamorous, especially the slums. All the stories of a rich and lavish city were portrayed on the plates where the sun shone and the air-pollution and filth were greatly reduced compared to the dark, dirty, smog choked world below. A world full of thieves and poor beggars, weapon smugglers and murderers not to mention the freaks and monsters that are scarier than any nightmare created creature. This was her new home, someone in this forsaken world below was willing to take in and look after her and her sister. An elderly widow who’s husband died a long time ago of some unknown cause, took in the two youths who had just been suddenly orphaned. They have had their fair share of death memories, they didn’t need to hear of another tragic loss. No need to tell them what happened, they didn’t even know him. The eldest was promising for a commitment to men, so young and lacking the knowledge that men are scum. The other constantly stared out the gritty window, no doubt dreaming of the world beyond. The old woman sighed before calling out for dinner, the eldest remained intrigued by her reflection, puckering her lips and giving herself enticing seductive looks. Carla stood up slowly, giving a heavy sigh walked over to Galia and tugged on her arm, “Did you hear or are you deaf? DINNER!!”, “ Huh? Whatever, your too young to know about picking up guys” Galia retorted in a pride-swelled huff before stalking to the small kitchen. “I’m only a year younger than you!! I’m just not interested in boys, there are much more interesting things than talking and flirting ya know” Carla replied to the empty space. She turned to the mirror and looked hard at herself before pulling a ‘Galia’ pose, “Oh, you’re soooo sexy Carla…”, “What are you doing?”, Galia stuck her head around the door, “Are you trying to imitate me?! What happened to the ‘there are more interesting things’ girl, you’re finally getting some taste and taking after me!!”. Carla stuck her tongue out in Galia’s direction after she disappeared back round the corner. *********END FLASHBACK********* Boy had things changed since then. Galia was still her flirty self but Carla was now too a flirty woman, she wasn’t as bad as her sister but she had a job in dancing that she found enjoyable. Hired dancer isn’t the usual job someone like herself would of chosen then but times had changed and so had she. It paid moderately and she loved the spotlight being focused on her, center-stage alone with a metal pole. She walked around the back streets for awhile before deciding to go down to the beach to see how much it had changed since she pasted through when she was eight. While travelling she’d only passed through Junon and had a glimpse of the crystal blue shoreline. As she approached the now dark, murky water she had memories of how beautiful it used to be. Despite living in Junon for nearly a month she had never considered going down to overlook the beach, now she wished she hadn’t. Dead fish and various bits of seaweed floated around the base of the large metal structure that had been built for some reason she hadn’t found out yet, she made mental note to investigate if she had time. The smell was overpowering, sewage she was sure, a faint squeak reverberating around the mouth of a nearby pipe with the brownish/greenish, foul-smelling sludge dripping out. Rats. Sewer rats, the biggest, scariest, most ferocious creatures you would dread to come across, well, according to Carla. One decided to stick its head out and look around, Carla shrieked running up the bank as fast as possible, the rat quickly shrunk back into the pipe quivering with fear of what made the horrible high-pitched noise. [Any one wanna take it? C\C\Q welcome, and the date, what is it now? I’ll put this a few days behind to leave room for anyone who wants to join.] _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. 226 From: Date: Thu Jun 21, 2001 1:42pm Subject: Parker's Entrance Dust exploded into the air, the white blur throwing up rocks and sand in its quicksilver wake. Soldiers sitting at the gates to Midgar blinked, growling in alarm. Grasping their Thundermakers tightly, they pulled themselves to their feet, forming a protective line at the entrance to the city. The leader grimaced, hefting his Thundermaker upwards, setting the sights on the fast-moving object racing towards them. He muttered quickly to his men, "Get enough of a glimpse of it to see what it is, then on my mark let hell loose." Nodding, the other troopers brought their Thundermakers up, preparing to open fire at their leader's command. The object came closer...closer...then the leader gave the command. "Oh jesus. Drop your damn weapons, it's some kid on a chocobo." His men grumbled, the job of gate-guard only involving an occasional monster blasting every other week being quite boring. As the men went back to their posts, the commander stepped forward. With a quick movement, the chocobo slide to a stop, sending a shower of dirt and dust right into the commander's face. Not one to show weakness, he just grimaced, wiping it off. "Name?" The boy, seeming about nineteen, hopped down from the white chocobo, stretching. He ran a hand through his backwards-spiked, blonde tipped hair, squinting at the commander in the mid-afternoon blaze through very light sky-blue eyes. His clothes hung loosely, a pair of Junon Inc. jeans and an 'I Love Kalm' t-shirt beneath a dull- green travelling cloak. "Parker Tain? I'm on the, uh, list for the Diamond Saucer. I have a room reserved there." Shoving his hand into his pocket, he tugged out a passport and room clearance ID card. Taking them, the commander inspected each carefully, analytically, trained to find fakes. Shrugging, he grabbed a clipboard with the dates for special arrivals. "Hmm, says here that...you weren't supposed to be here for another three hours! Your boat should have docked at 11, and it should have taken you a good 5 hours to make it through customs and get here!" Chuckling, Parker patted the white chocobo's head, who in reply made a loud purr-ish sound. "Kaerboros is a lot faster then any over-land vehicle, sir. That's why he's a winner." Shrugging, the commander stepped aside, into the small booth, and pressed a button. The Midgar Gates opened. Moving through the metal detector, it flared loudly with a sharp BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP. "What have you got with you in the luggage bags, kid?" "Not much, just some tools that I use when tinkering with my gadgets." The commander gave him a suspicious look, but shrugged, and waved him off. "Have a good stay in Midgar." ~~~~~~~~~~~ Parker made his way through the city to the Diamond Saucer. When he arrived, he was told he would have to leave Kaerboros in the stables provided at the Saucer. Hesitantly, he allowed the stable- keeper to take Kaerboros off. Walking over to a desk after making sure his friend would be alright in the stables, the boy strolled to the Front Desk. Clearing his room, and attaining an ID card, he placed his large amount of luggage onto an auto-bus. Heading to the elevator, he climbed in, the automated busboy whirring behind him, and hit 'Residency'. With a flash, the elevator snapped through the tubes to the hotel portion of Diamond Saucer. Stepping out, Parker lead the robot and his luggage to room #456, in the 'ritzy' area of the hotel. Swiping the card through the small device on the door, it unlocked, and slide open with a quiet hum. The auto-bus rushed in, dumped the luggage, and then sped out, hurriedly almost. With a tired yawn, Parker grabbed one of his luggage bags, carrying it through three rooms of the delux suite to the bedroom, and tossed it up onto the king-sized bed. Unzipping it, he began to pull out various items...a laser welder, a small laser-saw, a huge amount of wiring wrapped into a neat ball the size of a watermelon, and a few other odd items. Once he finished, he grabbed the phone and dialed the Midgar Information line. "Hello? Hello? Oh, yes, I'd like to inquire the locations of junk yards where they store a large amount of mechanical parts." Jotting down the information onto a paper tablet, he nodding approvingly, because there happened to be a yard about a mile or two away. Hanging up the phone, he placed his tools onto the floor carefully, and spread out on the bed. He grabbed a brochure from his luggage bag, entitled 'DIAMOND SAUCER ATTRACTIONS AND GAMES', flipping to the Chocobo Racing section. Peering at the different events, he began putting little marks next to each with a pen. "That one...bleh, that one looks too easy...oooh, that one looks pretty challenging..." With a happy sigh, he rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling contentedly. "I'm gonna be the best thing Midgar's ever seen." 227 From: cdleckie Date: Fri Jun 22, 2001 3:33pm Subject: Rude Awakening Date: Oct. 7 Time: 430 am Place: BLUFF safehouse, sector 3 Title: Rude Awakening Isaiah clamored off the cot he had been sleeping on as the sector commander shouted out orders for everyone to report to the briefing room in the basement. Isaiah pulled on his "uniform", which was really nothing more than dark pants and a jacket, as ideas ran through his head. He finally came to rest on his new orders, to get back to UNSPEC headquarters at any cost. Ambrose needed him to get evidence against all of BLUFF's governmental cronies. Ambrose didn't specify whether or not he should do so quietly or not though and it just happened that this safehouse was where BLUFF kept most of its weaponry. The terrorists had been keying up for something big lately and Isaiah had been given the job of inventorying all the weapons, explosives, detonators, and electronic equipment. He had of course given a carbon copy to Ambrose, but now he saw even more possibility for what he had learned. With everyone in the basement it would be harder to get to the weapons, but they would all be in one place and Isaiah wouldn't have to worry about guards. As he pulled on his boots, Isaiah slowed himself, wanting to be the last one out of the makeshift barracks. Once the others had gone he quickly gathered the few documents he had taken and his weapons into a small backpack. He then proceeded down the hallway to the stairs. He could hear the drone of quieted voices and then the gathering fell silent as the room below was bathed in the cool blue glow of the projection screen. Isaiah could hear the voice of BLUFF's high commander, he still didn't know the mans name since it wasn't in any document and no one talked about him. It seemed the man was truly a ghost of late, STRIKE had been on his trail for a while, even though they didn't know his true identity either or just didn't want to tell UNSPEC, but then he had disappeared. At the bottom of the stairs another voice came from the room and Isaiah turned from the hallway he was heading down to see who it was. The mans face was not shown, the screen had simply turned black, but Isaiah could almost recognize the voice, he kept getting an image of his first visit to the Turk recruitment center, but he couldn't place the voice. The figures message was short and direct, he had assisted certain key elements of BLUFF to escape from Midgar Prison and now he wanted his favor returned. The first figure reappeared and explained the plan in full. This man needed to use BLUFF's force of arms to create a split in the city. He wanted BLUFF to take a humanitarian stance and "protect" Midgar from it's new government, turning Midgar into battle zone for STRIKE and BLUFF with the citizens caught imbetween. "Well, I guess I really do need downsize BLUFF's armory." Isaiah spoke under his breath as he turned back down the hallway and walked to the store rooms. He knew exactly where the C-4 and detonators were kept and it was minutes before he had the entire basement rigged to implode on itself. He set the timers and walked back past the gathering which was winding down now, up the stairs and out the door. As he turned down the street and headed for the ShinRa building a smile crossed his face at the sound of a building crumbling on its foundation. --------------------------------------- [OOG: Wow, that worked a lot better than I thought it would. I set up everyone's plans perfectly. How nice. Sorry if I stepped on anyone's plans but Mr. Adem hasn't posted in weeks, and there are no BLUFF players. By the way, what's the BLUFF leaders name? I couldn't remember for the life of me and my brother deleted all my old mails.] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes, and I knew without asking she was into the blues, She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls, I knew right away she was not like other girls ~Sublime ---------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- 228 From: Dizzy XIII Date: Thu Jul 5, 2001 7:11pm Subject: Allies Wanted (Vladimir and Elena) * * * * * * * * * * * * * Allies Wanted * * * * * * * * * * * * * Date: October 6, 2003 Time: Late afternoon Place: Midgar Tower, cafeteria Rude looked at the two persons in front of him with a professional, but friendly look. "So, you want work now. What changed?" "I found out that working on this case will not interfere at all with what we're doing now. Besides, I was at the hospital when it blew up, so I'm a bit interested in catching the one responsible for it." "Okay. The other thing you're doing, is that in any way harmful to Midgar." "No," Elena replied. "Just to make sure, and that's all I need to know. I'm not really involved in this particular case, but I know which STRIKE members are in charge of this for the moment. Their names are..." "Zeng Jarstan and Kytira DeLeurié," Vladimir interjected. "I recognized them from the scene." "Still keeping track of the old SOLDIERs, I see. There have been some trouble with those STRIKEs, so I don't think anyone will mind your help. Doesn't hurt that we're still respected," he added with a smile. "However, you'll have to be registered as members of UNSPEC for two reasons. First, I can't allow any civilians, no matter their skill, to be involved in this. Second, we need all help we can get. UNSPEC haven't been a very successful project." Vladimir looked at Elena for a second, catching her glance, then answered for both of them. "That's not a problem. We'll do it." "I'll fix you in. Shall I call someone to inform them, or will you?" "We can do that now, but we have to know where to find them." "They should be at the STRIKE barracks, unless they quit early, or still are out. You'll find them." "Okay. Anything else?" "You'll report to either me or Ambrose. Other than that, see you at the bar this evening?" "Depends on how we work things out with the STRIKEs. But till then." He nodded and walked out to the elevator. "See ya," Elena said before joining the vampire. * * * * * * * * * * * * * Date: October 6, 2003 Time: Late afternoon Place: STRIKE headquarters' barracks Arriving at the barracks, Vladimir and Elena didn't see much activity. In fact, it looked pretty dead. "Hmm. Fun place," Elena pondered. "Yeah. They all thought this was the time to visit that new bar downtown?" "Probably, since I haven't seen much in the way of males who doesn't like to drink." "Don't you?" She just looked at his surprisingly friendly face and shrugged. "Let's just find them, okay?" He simply nodded. Then he walked up to a seemingly random door and knocked. Someone still wet from a shower opened. "Yeah?" "Do you know where Jarstan or DeLeurié lives?" "Miss Temper has her own place, and Zeng... I don't remember exactly where, but Sebastian probably does. Second door after the corridor on the right side." "Alright. Thank you." When he turned, he saw that Elena was already halfway down there. When she knocked on the door the man gave instructions for, a blue eyed man opened. "Sebastian?" she asked politely. "That's me. Whatcha want?" "I've been told you know where Zeng lives." "Yeah. I do. His partner seem to think this is his place. It's down that corridor; his name is on the door. Now, if you excuse me, I've something to say to Mr. Sandman." He closed the door before Elena could thank him. Walking up to Vladimir, who hadn't reached her yet, she grabbed his arm and pulled him in the opposite direction. "This way." * * * * * * * * * * * * * Summary: Vladimir and Elena get on the bombing case and search for Zeng. ===== /Dizzy XIII __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get personalized email addresses from Yahoo! Mail http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/ 229 From: Matt The Kaiser Date: Mon Jul 9, 2001 1:15am Subject: Zeng: Unwelcome Allies October 6th, Late Afternoon. The small steel chair groaned in weak protest as Zeng pulled it up to the empty desk upon which he dropped a fairly new PHS and the ballistics report from the hospital bombing. Slowly he began to read, the initial analysis seemed to imply that the primary explosion occured a few feet from Vindicar's bed, with several other smaller explosions occuring simultaneously throughout the building. BLUFF was awfully thorough, but, the primary explosion puzzled Zeng. According to the broadcast, the blast was set off in order to cover his escape, but the proximity made covering his body much more likely. If the bomb was set off in order to kill him, the entire speech in the broadcast could be discounted, in fact, BLUFF might not be involved at all. In addition, the little exhibition of carnage near the end briefly showed one of the soldiers firing a mako-powered weapon. BLUFF was idealogically opposed to mako-energy, and thus would not use mako-powered weapons. This operation wasn't done by-"Zeng Jarstan?" a female voice and a sharp knocking interrupted his studies. Slowly he rose and opened the door, greeting a young redheaded woman and a pale man with a slow "Can I help you?" The man replied, "We'd like to speak with you about the recent bombing of the hospital," "You're not members of STRIKE," Zeng noted sternly, "And if you're from the press, then we both know any details that haven't already been given to you I'm not allowed to tell you. If you're not with the press, then you shouldn't be here, and I should have the security staff in charge of this floor fired the moment after they throw the both of you out the door. Now, I have important work to do, goodbye." At that, Zeng tapped the console to shut the door, only to have the sliding mechanism interrupted by the hand of the pale man, who's hair was the exact same shade of artificial red as his companion. He spoke. "We're not with the press, I am Vladimir Dumainz, this is Elena Thorton. We're here to request your cooperation with UNSPEC in this matter," "The former turks? With UNSPEC now? " He shrugged, "You have ID?" Vladimir pulled out a pair of paper sheets, one identifying himself as an UNSPEC member, and a similar sheet for Elena "Fine then, I guess security isn't as incompetent as I thought. I have the report from the ballistic specialists on the bombing, and this does not look at all like a BLUFF operation. I've also placed a few traces out on Vindicar, we'll have him pretty soon," Vladimir looked about to speak, but the sharp trilling of Zeng's PHS cut him off. Quickly , "Looks like they got him, just hold on a minute," he tapped a button on the device and held it up to his ear, clearing his throat and changing into a slightly gruffer voice, "Jarstan, what do you want?... Yeah? What about it?... What sort of problem?..." whatever was said next made him angry, "Bullshit! Get more men looking for him!... If I had the time to come down and hold your hand, I'd have time to find him myself!... No-no! Don't call off the search... I'll be there." Zeng set down the PHS and took a heavy silver pistol from the center drawer in the test and began to load it. "Is there a problem?" Vladimir asked, "I would call it that. It looks as if one of the traces I have put on Mr. Vindicar has run into a problem," he paused for a moment, then looked up, "how about the opportunity to prove yourselves? Around here UNSPEC is pretty much a joke, under-qualified, under-equipped, and over-confident. If you can handle this, maybe we might be able to accomplish something." "What do you need?" "I'm about to speak with a few very unpleasant and dangerous people. As of right now they think I am Argoulor Jarstan-" "The sniper?" Elena interjected, "Yes, if they find out I'm not, it will resort to gunfire. Even a mako-enhanced expert like myself won't survive a gunfight alone at close range. I need you two to make yourself scarce, follow at a distance, and watch through a window or the like, if things descend into combat, I'll be counting on you two to provide support. If this happens and you're capable, then we're in buisiness, if you're not, then I'll be dead and you'll have to deal with my replacement." "Alright." Vladimir responded, "Then make yourself scarce, I'm going to get my partner in on this, I'll see you if shots break out," he waved them off then grabbed his PHS, dialing quickly for Kytira, "Kyt? Something serious has come up, meet me in front of the Tower in 10 minutes... and come armed, bye." Giving her little time to speak, he hung up the phone, checked his pistol one last time, slipped it in his holster and made his way downstairs. _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com 230 From: cdleckie Date: Thu Jul 12, 2001 4:12pm Subject: Azrael: Getting out Title: Getting Out Date:Oct. 7th Time:12:30p.m. Place:Midgar Gate, Sector 1 The guards were few and far between since it was lunch time. Since SOLDIER had been dissolved, the military in Midgar had really gone all to hell, no discipline. Tifa was walking to the gatehouse, as they called it, with the rest of the group in supporting positions in case of trouble. They had to make sure the ID's worked before putting all their eggs in one basket. Azrael felt like an idiot for having been so insistent on leaving. He knew he had jeopardized the entire plan by forcing it too early, but he hadn't been able to shake the feeling something awful was going to happen. It may have been the drugs thinking for him, or maybe some sixth sense he didn't know about... of course that's why he was leaving, to know what his intuitions really were. Tifa had reached the gates and was talking with the officers on guard. She handed over the ID and kept talking as the soldier ran it through a scanner. The man fingered his sidearm as the results downloaded from the central policing net. He looked up and reached towards the computer picking up the ID, and handed it back to Tifa. She continued on through the gate to find the merchant they had used to smuggle their belongings to the outside. AsTifa passed through the gate, the first group headed toward the gate. As soon as they were through the second group would pass through and they would all meet outside to depart for Kalm. Tifa of course wouldn't be leaving, having a thriving business to run, but they had needed her to test the ID's as she was also the only one who could actually obtain a legitimate ID and feign having no knowledge of having picked up a fake. The second group approached the gates, handed over their ID's and walked through the tunnel to the outside world. They were now free citizens unbarred by the laws of Midgar and it's swirling revolutionary aftermath. Azrael looked up towards the sun for the first time in years and remembered why he had chosen Midgar to hide in. ------------------------ [OOG: We're out, the rest of you can now go your separate ways. I'm heading to Nibelheim to see a great vampire guru to teach me the true way of the vamp. I'll be traveling through Kalm, the mountain pass, and Junon to get there so anyone heading that way, is welcome to come with me. I hope you all get back into the writing spirit soon since these breaks seem to foretell a flurry of writing and good story lines. BTW, I restarted my own IF and if anyones interested e-mail me. :)] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes, and I knew without asking she was into the blues, She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls, I knew right away she was not like other girls ~Sublime ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 231 From: Fyre Byrd Date: Thu Jul 12, 2001 9:59pm Subject: Lovely Miss Frerin Title: Lovely Miss Frerin Date: Oct. 7, 2003 Time: 12:23 p.m. Place: Midgar Gate, Sector 1 Massive gates of stone loomed out of the earth, reaching up to brush the sky with crumbling edges. Teck Albah leaned back inside the booth, pushing the chair back precariously. Just beyond the gate lay freedom and endless open skys; blackened clouds dotted the horizon and the breeze that slide under the groaning doors was scented of rain. “I can even smell the sea from here,” he said quietly to himself. Teck pulled his MPF helmet off his head and ran his hand along his bald scalp. Lately, he had been dreaming of Junon – maybe even returning home. The smell of salt on the air, the sound of ships docking along the piers of Junon, and even the memories of his parents were becoming fuzzy in his mind. He laughed and shrugged his shoulders, wiping his fingers along his eyes. “I don’t need the sea, I have my own salt water here.” Another officer walked in and kicked the leg of Teck’s chair. “Hey, Albah, slackin’ off?” Teck leaned forward, allowing the chair to ‘thunk’ back to the ground, and he pulled his helmet back on quickly. “Uhh, no, sir.” The officer leaned out the window of the booth and spotted a small group of people heading down the street toward the gate. “On your feet, Albah, we have some citizens coming through.” Jumping out of his chair, Teck took his place that window, pulling the ID scanner from a drawer. He attached it to a small computer jack in the wall, causing the monitor next to the window to light up. The first citizen was a young woman, who seemed to be around his age. She pulled her ID from her pocket and handed it to him with a smile. “Hello, sir.” Looking away, he slid the ID efficiently through the machine. He glanced up at her face and then at the monitor. It read, “Sheryl Frerin.” Looking back at her face, his hand resting on the butt of his sidearm, he noticed her alluring red eyes and then let his eyes fall on the rest of her. Simply gorgeous. “Miss Frerin, I hope you enjoy your time outside of Midgar. Please take caution when traveling to and from Kalm and any other destinations you may seek.” He pulled her ID out of the scanner and handed it back to her. Sheryl’s fingers gently touched his as she took her card back. “Thank you, officer. I have some men with me to look after me.” “Then I hope you enjoy your travels,” he said with a blush. She smiled and turned, walking toward the massive gates. Teck reached under the window to press the gate release switch. The gates groaned as they edged open, only room enough for two men shoulder to shoulder to pass through, giving Teck the glimpse of sky he wanted. The clouds were heavy with rain, giving the grey sky an ominous look. Freedom. Sheryl stepped quickly through the gate, and he released the gate switch, watching her lovely behind as they closed. -----< [Summary: Teck thinks about going home before Tifa and her party arrives at the Sector 1 gates to leave Midgar. They are able to slip through the gates with their fake IDs, no problem!] _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com 232 From: Jaymz Kamahlaan Date: Sat Jul 14, 2001 0:15am Subject: Enlisting services (Jaymz-5) Title: Enlisting services (Jaymz-5) Date :October 7th, 2003 Time: Late Morning Place: Sector 7 It had been rough, but it was over. Jaymz got out of bed and proceeded to the showers of his room to start his day off. As he washed his face and started to shave, he began to think about joining the MSF. The poster he had seen yesterday had given him a general direction, at least for a while. As he finished, he stepped out of the bath room, ad got dressed. , he thought. He made his way down, and paid for his accomodations, had his breakfast and then left the hotel. He was out the door as the artificial sunlight hit him right in the face. Immeadiately, he pulled out his shades and put them on. he thought with a chuckle. Gathering what information he could from the poster, Jaymz had managed to find the place. He stepped in the front door, only to be greeted with the busy strides and loud noises one would normally assosiate with a flea market. he thought as he made his way to a counter. "Uh, excuse me, I would like to enlist myself with the MSF. Could you direct me on what I'm supposed to do??" he inquired. The receptionist replied "Head down the hall, and take a right. I'll inform the liutenant that you're coming to see him." "Thanks," said Jaymz. With that he had made his way to the door, and knocked. "COME IN!!" he heard the liutenant yell. "So, you want to join the MSF, eh?" the liutenant, an elderly looking man, continued, "What qualifications do you have?" "Well, I don't have any qualifications, but I do have some martial art skills, and I'm sure I could pass the usual regulation tests," Jaymz said, not wanting to mention the fact that he was in SOLDIER, seeing the effects it had the last time. He had made sure he'd kept his shades on this time. "Well son, we are a little short-handed right now, so I suppose I could give you a temporary spot on our team. You will still have to go through training at some other time, but for now, I will assign you a partner and a low-risk part of our services in the city, seeing you're not a full-fledged MSF yet." said the liutenant. With that, the liutenant touched a dail on his intercom on the desk, "Hey Deb," he called the receptionist,"Who's on duty at the gated without a partner right now?" "I think Officer Albah is stationed at gate 1, sir. Should I recall him?" Deb went on. "No, just get him on the radio and tell him he's got a new partner on the way," said the liutenant. With that exchange, Jaymz thanked the liutenant, saluted him and went out to meet his partner. Summary: Jaymz gets a job as an MSF Officer and is stationed at Gate 1, with Teck Albah. >OOG: WoW.fm...hope that was interesting...Hey Fyre Byrd, we're now >officially a team. As usual, Q C&C are welcome... >Do forgive me if this was a tad boring, I'm not feeling like myself >today. 233 From: Date: Tue Jul 24, 2001 9:58pm Subject: Part One: With Lies Comes Truth October 7, 2003 12:34 AM Professor Hojo's Secret Lab, Medical Bay --------------------------------------------------------- "Khali has awoken, professor. She's asking for you." The half-asleep professor opened an eye, then the second, and finally stretched, using the cane for balance as he stood. He followed the nurse out of the waiting room, through the sliding doors and into the infirmary where the strapped down Khali lay. The broken mechanical arm lay off on a table, her right shoulder where it should be bandaged up. She opened her eyes at the footsteps, looking at the approaching professor even with her head strapped down. "Professor.. What's.. happening to me?" Her voice quivered - she knew all too well what she had done, as the thoughts were no longer subconsciously buried. She now had full recollection of the people that had gone missing in Junon, and what had happened to them... And of the retrieval team sent to bring her back. Hell, she could still taste them. Something was happening... And she was losing. For the first time ever, she was losing. "Khali... You're dying." No sense in beating around the bush, the professor figured. He continued, before letting her speak. "You were contaminated with something in Junon, which is when this mutation of your DNA strains began. We are going to keep you in isolation until we can decide just what went wrong..." He turned, leaving without another word, not halting at her pleas for an explanation. The nurse, too, left, sealing the doors on the outside. They spoke briefly, and Hojo continued on to his private chambers. *** October 7, 2003 12:40 AM Hojo's Private Quarters ------------------------------------------------- He stood in front of a monitor, watching the isolation room that Khali was sealed in. He kept an emotionless face as he watched for several minutes, then turned around and sat at his desk. The monitor clicked off, and he began looking over his old plans.. Plans that began when he first captured his first members of the Red tribe, and later the children from the Gongaga reactor blast. Everything he had told her was naught but a lie. She was not dying, so much as mutating.. And it certainly wasn't contamination. Everything he had once theorized was coming true; a millenia of worthiness betrayed, millenia of suvival and warding... It had all been changed in but a moment of scientific theory. A beautiful experiment, indeed... He chuckled, looking over the DNA tests and that which had been gathered from ancient manuscripts dating from before the attack of Jenova upon the Cetra. He flipped through the computerized reconstruction of those old manuscripts. He still held them, of course, eternally preserved through chemicals and casings... Yet it was far easier to read them via technology. "The Ancients... these Cetra... were seemingly wiser than we humans are now, even after millenia of evolution. Many were prophets, detailing what would happen years into the future... Some were false, and yet... A few have groundings. What would you say, Oracle?" There was silence for a few moments, until the beautiful female voice began speaking as fluently as ever. The words flowed rythmically, as if they were a spoken song. "'Thus shall be created Her children, and they shall create with Her the unspoken pact. For their lifetimes they shall uphold Her pact, until the times that the children of the Usurper steal their Gift and Curse. The Fallen shall return, and in His wake He shall leave Hell.'" "Indeed, that is how the scripture goes. A shame the next page was beyond reconstruction. No matter, this experiment shall result in something far more powerful than those petty attempts on my pathetic child. Khali shall prove far more useful than the dead fool." - Etrius 234 From: Sere Grant Date: Thu Jul 26, 2001 1:30am Subject: “The Right Place?” (Brand, Aeris) Sorry about the wait for this...but I finally got it up so ummmm...here goes nothing...Heh... “The Right Place?” (Brand, Aeris) ------------------------------------ October 2, 2003 -- Early Morning -- Sector 5 Church, Midgar ------------------------------------ “...Who are you?” the woman asked with a smile. Brand turned, noticing her for the first time. Most people would call her pretty, Brand guessed. She had Green eyes and long brown hair. Yes, most men would call her pretty. She flinched when he turned and then pasted a look of curiosity on her face. His eyes had that effect on people, a dark void where there should have been something, but only a shadow. “I could ask you the same thing,” he replied curtly, “I am Brand Terranis. Now, who are you?” She became perplexed by his tone, and she glanced down at Siyadune, his Mursame. “Aeris Gainsborough,” she said, “I tend the flowers here.” She gestured to the flowerbed in the column of light shining in from the hole in the rooftop. The only place where sunlight pierced into the slums, and she had planted flowers there? One of the voices told him. It was the Shadow, not the old man. “Are you all right?” she asked, “You just seemed lost in thought for a minute there.” “I'm fine,” he said. “Are you sure? You seem a bit pale,” Aeris kept her guard up at the moment since something did not quite click right with this man. “I'm always like that,” he stated. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” she asked, one eyebrow rose slightly. “Yes,” he stated simply. “Well, then, I will be going, Good day,” Aeris was happy to be leaving as she felt a strange aura about Brand that she’d rather not find out about. She turned and began to leave. “Wait!” he said, echoed by two voices in his head. “What is it? I thought you wished for me to leave?” she asked, a bit frustrated, but obviously holding it in. “In your ribbon... Is that...?” The old man supplied, his voice breathless awe. “Holy?” “What? This was a gift that my mother left me. The last thing to remember her by before she died,” she said softly but also wondering how he knew about the materia. “The Materia in you ribbon, that is the Holy Materia?” The Shadow screamed in rage, and spears of pain erupted in Brand's mind, he dropped to his knees, and put his hands to his head. “Are you all right?” she asked, moving forward, not sure what to do. ------------- Brand woke up lying in a pew, his head felt like it had been crushed with Terai's Mace. Terai's Mace? He didn't know what that meant, but he assumed one of the voices had supplied it. Aeris was kneeling next to the flowers in that one column of sunlight. She stood and dusted the dirt from her dress, looking over at Brand. “What happened to you?” she asked. “The Shadow,” he whispered. “Shadow?” she pondered more to herself than to Brand. She knew something was different about this man. “I'm a bit crazy, he's a voice in my head, but I'm beginning to wonder about it, whether he's real or not.” “How long have you been hearing him?” she questioned, trying to find out more about Brand and his voices. He looked up. “About eight years.” “Wow. That's a persistent delusion, if you could even call it that,” Aeris had never heard anything like what Brand spoke of. “Yes, I know.” The Shadow screamed. commanded the old man. This was the first time either of them had ever spoken to him directly. “Voices again?” Aeris looked at Brand with a quaint smirk, offering him a hand up. “Yeah. I guess, on the bright side, I'll never be lonely,” he added dourly. “Oh, well. I'll be going now, Brand, I've already stayed too long, Darman might catch up to me, and I can't have that,” she began to walk away after helping Brand to his feet again. “Well, then I shall come with you.” “What? I hardly know you and you hardly know me, why would you want to do that?” “Because you are carrying the most powerful piece of crystal any Cetra has ever found,” he stated dryly. She turned and raised an eyebrow at that statement. She knew he knew more than he had originally let one, yet he was a blunt one. She decided that in order to find out how he got his information, she might have to let him come along. “Why are you doing that? You think I'm after you because you're Cetra, don't you? Well, I'm not. If I needed a Cetra, I wouldn't look for one. I already am one.” She looked at him guardedly, but was more surprised that there was another Cetra alive other than herself. That explained a lot of his knowledge, but it still didn’t explain the voices. Aeris was more curious than ever and decided that she needed to find out more about him. “Now. Where are we headed?” (Summary: Brand meets Aeris in the Sector 5 church and after a conversation, he finds out that she carries the Holy material in her ribbon. He decides to journey with her because of the treasure she holds.) ---------------------------------- “The Right Place?” (Brand, Aeris) By: Cam and Serenity A.K.A. “Sere” ---------------------------------- _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp 235 From: Date: Thu Jul 26, 2001 11:20pm Subject: Part Two: The Tome of a Cetra "My worst fears have come to pass. The insight has always come veiled in images, yet it has always been there. I now know why. The Mother has given to us Her voice in the form of mine. She has judged me worthy, and I am Her Prophet. I must not fail Her. I must find the king. I can write no more here, 'less the wrong people find it. *** I am too late. I should have spoken out sooner, though it would have done no good. The king's eyes were clouded, his ears covered, by His lies. The king is dead. Slain by his advisor; the man I labeled traitor. A God among us; the Betrayer. I can not speak His name. *** I am worried. A vision came to me last eve, whilst I slept. A man knelt, a bloodied dagger in his hands. His face was twisted, even though he was relaxed and serene. Above him, in the clouds, was a grotesque female, watching over him. He is the Betrayer. He did this not of His free will, and for this I am glad. Though there is something there that has fed upon His darkest desires... *** Our new king, Azazel, has ordered a man-hunt on the Betrayer. Galvonus, perhaps our greatest warrior, has been given the honor of leading the attack. ... I pray to you, our Mother, that they succeed. They will not listen to me when I speak of His power. But I know... *** Azazel has sought my council, asking many questions of what I know of the Betrayer. I have told no one of the power you have given me, Mother, yet he seems to know of it. I am required by oath to his family line to truthfully answer and aid him. And yet... No, I can not write more of my thoughts. It is no longer safe, I fear. Protect us, our Mother. *** Galvonus has returned with the few survivors. The Betrayer destroyed them easily, as I believed. Azazel has again sought council with me, this time with Galvonus. They ask many questions that are of no concerns to them... *** For how long have I slept? Everything has changed so... Many assembled at the capital Square to view a place of worship to you, Mother. They all seem so entranced with it, as if there is no free will... The statue was not of you, Mother. T'was the one controlling the Betrayer, just as I saw Her in my visions... I left early, and was attacked by a hooded man. Luckily I was aided by several, and he fled. It is no longer safe here. I leave with them come the morning. *** King Azazel has deemed those that do not follow his new religion as heretics and traitors, and linked them as tools of the Betrayer. I, too, have been labeled as such. We that are still sane have escaped the Capital, and are hiding in the forests. Please, Mother, send me some sign... We must save ourselves from this. Azazel has pinned the Betrayer in the northern valleys. He plans to confront His monsters four days hence. Perhaps this fool of such noble lineage still has some semblance of honor. *** No! I can not believe it! Another vision... This time two stood upon a mountain peak, victorious, the Usurper clearly visible far above in the clouds. Below them, at the bottom of the mountain, lay our slain and now corrupted brethren. A thick layer of... white... surrounded the bodies. A great and fair voice rang in my ears as I watched this. It called my name and I turned as I hung in the air, graced with the sight of our Mother's ethereal body. 'When the lush environment turns frigid, and from the skies fall flakes of death; know then that the End is upon you.' I awoke sharply, shivering from a feeling I had never felt before. The cold of death. Mother... have I failed you? *** Cold... so cold... I only feel cold. No longer can I feel warmth, even when covered with bundles of clothes. The others believe I am sick, but I know the truth... I tell our new leaders that we no longer have any time left, that they must move now. They listen to me, but to make such a decision is hard. Still, with Azazel's army away from the Capital... These young ones, they are so eager to fight. Yet they are so young, at least to me. They have lived not even a fourth of the years I have lived, they have not seen that which there is so much to see. Do not let them forfeit their lives in vain. *** It has been weeks since I have written here. I have been fooled, even with my gift. Forgive me. Azazel has openly proclaimed his madness. Galvonus was his destruction, and He Galvonus'. The Betrayer sent Galvonus back as a seed of darkness, warping Azazel from so far away with His powers. Azazel did lead his army, yet when he entered the battlefield... To the Betrayer's minions, he sacrificed his entire army to the mock goddess - the Usurper. He is named the Fallen King now. A name I find suitable. The Fallen King and the Betrayer rule this world now - their monsters run wild. The white death fell next, immediately after the cold. I did not notice the cold, but the others did... It happened while my sane brethren returned to attack the Capital and regain control. I fear that none shall return. T'was no normal sacrifice. The skies have seemed strange for some time now, yet I paid no attention. The Usurper fell from the skies, the demoness clearly visible even if you were to be watching from the bottom of the waters. Her power would seemingly rival that of the Fallen King and the Betrayer... this is truly the end. With a sickening roar from the Mother, the Usurper split her in two. The shakes destroyed the Capital, and all those still there. Our time has ended, for these are the End Times and the Days of Darkness... But I shall NOT die without a fight! *** Many share my view. I have taken the reigns of the majority of us few survivors, and we shall strike the Three soon. I must decipher this vision first... The faded ethereal form of our Mother held me this time, cradling me much like one would cradle a babe. We viewed the great wound caused by the Usurper together, and despite these trying times I felt a happiness watch over me. I knew that She had not forsaken me... or we few Cetra that remained. We were Her children, and we were faithful. 'I can not give any soothing words, my child.' She spoke. 'For there are none to give. I am stricken a death blow, and soon they shall rule over no more than a dead wasteland.' I cried, then, out of guilt and sadness for being powerless to stop this. She hushed me, stopping my tears though I willed them not to. 'Remember, my child, that evil is only strong when good men do nothing. No matter the darkest hour, a light shall always exist. I have saved for you, and your line, naught but the best. Return to the physical, and lead your brethren to victory. While you vanish... your legacy shall live.' She vanished, and I felt myself fall. Though I fell slowly, and I landed safely, for her presence guarded me. I watched as the Fallen King was split assunder, his physical body destroyed and his magical portion sealed into a great red beast. The Betrayer vanished. But the Usurper remained, dormant and powerless. None could touch Her, as if she were a part of our Mother and protected as such. *** These are the dying words of a great man; he who led the battle against the Usurper and Her children. The battle has run its toll on him. His spirit is spent, and soon he shall join the Mother he served so faithfully. In return for this victory, he has been given one last vision of what he says is the future... The Cetra that have served their existance shall find peace with the Mother... Those that joined the Horrors and their goddess the Usurper shall continue their belittled existance as Her children, powerless and pathetic; lost souls no longer with her grace. They shall breed and fill the lands forbidden by the Mother. The Mother shall give these souls no rest, and they shall never find peace as long as they live. Yet She is merciful, and the same shall not befall your children. Your stains shall be washed from their hands, and they shall be allowed to live. Fear not the red beast! For they are your guardians and your champions, the Mother's children. Perhaps they shall succeed where we have failed, and keep Her safe. They shall protect, but let them not approach! They are unclean, tainted with the spirit of the Fallen." - From the Lost Tome of Tyral Brightstar, Prophet of the Days of Darkness - Last entry scribed by Hadral Brightstar, Son of Tyral [OOG: I know this is different than what is on the page, so if you have any problems with it feel free to bitch and I'll remove it. Reason being, the history that was on the page was created from Starcraft - and I detest Starcraft. No offense to the writer, but I don't feel that it was the best piece of work that could have been done about the Cetra.] - Etrius, ToM's friendly neighborhood bastard 236 From: Date: Sat Jul 28, 2001 2:03am Subject: Part Three: The Ancient Pact A Time Forgotten Night An Island at the Center of the World ------------------------------------------------------ The Avatar of the Planet, portrayed as a beautiful female clothed in only the finest of silks, hovered in the air, as if hung perfectly from the blue sky that reflected her serene grace, in front of a small pack of red beasts. Their manes were fire, as were the tips of their tales, and different ritualistic carvings and ornaments adorned their bodies of a like color. From the middle of the pack came a great beast, not the largest but clearly their alpha. He walked unwavering, wearing his scars of glory proudly, the feathers hanging on a primitive necklace dancing with the fire of his mane. The Avatar smiled as he approached. "I have a request of you and your pack, Groznek." Her voice spoke the words flawlessly, demanding respect and cowing the pack with fear at the same time. Groznek answered with a bow of his head, then raised it to look back up at her. She smiled, then began again. "The home of the Cetra is destroyed and defiled, and their pure blood shall soon dwindle. I wish those that kept their loyalty to me, even in the dark days that have passed, to live as kings as they fade. You shall protect them." "Of course, my lady." Groznek bowed his head again and started to turn to face his pack, but stopped as her voice came again. "You shall protect their legacy as well, for as long as your line remains." He turned to face her, cocking his head to the side in interest. "In this valley, between the mountains and forests, they shall erect a great temple. With their knowledge, you shall as well protect this." She held up a black orb that refused to shimmer, even in the daylight. Some of the less-hardy members of the pack drew back a bit, as the evil that radiated from it was palpable. "Stored within this lies the spirit of Azazel the Fallen, strongest of the Horrors. His body is dismembered and burned, and His spirit sealed. I am too weak to remove from Him the gift of which I bestowed - and He is too strong, for He is imbued with the powers of His fallen Goddess. To seal the spirit is the only way. His Brothers are slain and Their spirits broken, doomed to wander aimlessly." She let the dark orb fall to the ground, vanishing from sight. The pack watched it in awe, perhaps expecting it to explode or for the evil to escape. Even the battle-hardened Groznek spent several moments simply staring into its void of darkness before moving forward, dropping his head to pick it up in his mouth. He turned to his pack and nodded to his priest, who led the howl in Groznek's place. From the pack, in order from older to younger, came great howls. And behind Groznek, taken from the now desolate northland by their Mother, appeared the last remnants of the noble Cetra. This would be where they would die out, but where their legacy would live forever. In the untouchable islands to the south of the Red tribe's origin in the Fire Canyons, a place that only the tribe knew their way to. *** The temple was built in the center of the valley, and it was named Dor-lomin. And deep within its catacombs, guarded by numerous obstacles, was placed the black orb that housed the Fallen's spirit, and entrance was barred to all save Groznek and those he personally named. It was barred even to the Cetra that helped imprison him, 'less they be corrupted and release him. Red and Cetra lived in harmony, learning how to best co-exist. And as time passed the long-aged Cetra began to dwindle. The dark Cetra wandered, travelling from their desolate homeland to colonize the other continents. The spoken curse struck true and those that sinned against their brethren never found a home, dying as they travelled and buried where they died. Yet also as promised, their children found peace. And as these children bred, the Cetra blood began to mystically dwindle... They were named humans, no longer of the Mother... They were the bastard children of the Usurper - or Jenova, as was her whispered name. But time passes, and names and legends are forgotten. The Red tribe still remembers; still continues its vigilant watch; still worships the Mother. As if out of spite... some of the Usurper's children have once again found the once-buried monster, and have begun its praise of this Jenova. Time is always in a continuous state of flowing. Yet, how many times must history repeat itself before something is done to stop it? [Summary: The Planet contacts the Red tribe, and their alpha Groznek agrees to keep safe the black orb that contains the Fallen's spirit as well as protect the remaining noble Cetra. The Temple of the Cetra is built and named Dor-lomin.] [OOG: I never came up with a viable excuse for just what the hell the Black Materia was, so I suppose this is as good as ever. Maybe Meteor is also Jenova's bastard kid, or some type of entity related to it. Or maybe something else sealed into the Black Materia along with Azazel's spirit.] - Etrius 237 From: Silver15 Date: Sat Jul 28, 2001 11:57am Subject: The Bitter Truth (Kane) Hey, I know it's been a while. I've been busy with exams and website work. Anyway, here's the next part. Comments welcome. Silver ---------- Title: The bitter Truth Date: 6th October Time: 9:30pm Place: Midgar Slums As he walked through the streets of the Midgar slums, Kane kept his cape wrapped tightly around him and the hood over his head. He knew that he was sure to meet someone he knew and he didn't want them to recognise him and warn his father. He also knew that it was beginning to get late and that there would be many drunk and aggressive people out for a fight. His aim was to avoid any trouble if at all possible. Sol-leks was walking at his heel, his ears listening out for any sound of danger. Kane kept one hand on his sword, his fingers locked around the hilt. He heard the jeering voices of the young boys before he saw them. They were loudmouthed youths, dirty and dressed in torn, grubby clothes. There were four of them and they were surrounding something on the ground. When Kane moved closer, he saw that it was one of the slum drunks. The youths were standing around him and kicking him when he tried to get up. The man was pleading with them, but they just laughed. Part of Kane urged him to walk past, to avoid any trouble. Yet he also felt a surge of anger race through his body. Slowly he knelt down and pulled his dagger from his pocket. Holding it tightly in his hand, he stepped from the shadows and approached the group. The leader, a tall, tough looking guy, looked up and locked eyes with Kane. The young warrior refused to move and stood there, staring into the youth's eyes, until the youth silently admitted defeat and lowered his eyes. "What do you want?" he spat. "We aren't doing nothing to you. Can't you just leave us alone? We don't want a fight" "Neither do I" Kane said quietly. "But I want to know, why do you mock people less fortunate than yourselves? You're strong, healthy young men. Do you really need to pick on the weak?" "Some of them deserve it," the leader said in reply. "Also for money, for amusement..." "You want money?" Kane interrupted. He put a hand in his pocket and pulled out 20 gil. "Here" he said slowly. "Take it. And leave this man alone. From what I can see, he's done nothing wrong" The leader stepped forwards and took the money that Kane offered him. "Thank you sir" he said quietly, almost shyly. "It's nice to meet someone who's willing to give away his own money to help people" "Get off with you" Kane said with a small smile. "I know that you're not bad kids. Next time just think a little, okay?" "Yes sir" the leader said, his tone almost friendly. Then he turned back to his friends. "Let's go" he barked and the group quickly disappeared. Kane began to walk off too, but then remembered the drunk and turned back to see if he was okay. The drunk was trying to stand up, without much success. Kane grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up. The man staggered and almost fell again. "Thank you young man" he said to Kane. "I'm very grateful for your help" "It was no problem" Kane replied, feeling rather uncomfortable. "Would you like me to help you home?" "Would you mind?" the drunk asked, almost thankfully. "Only I can't seem to walk in a straight line" After the man gave Kane vague directions to his home, they began walking. As they walked, the man began to sober up a little and started to talk about himself. "You know" he began. "I used to have a son. I believe he would have been about your age now" "Really?" Kane looked hard at the man. Something about him looked rather familiar, but he couldn't place it. "What happened to him?" "He ran away from home a few years ago" the drunk said. "Good thing too. If he had stayed there much longer, I would have killed him me self" He paused, then continued. "I couldn't stand the sight of him. He was unplanned, totally unwanted. His mother choose to have him out of a sense of duty, but in the end she never even got to see him. Died giving birth. I never forgave him for that. I loved her you know. I really did" "That's nice" Kane said coldly. "Now if you'd excuse me, I have some pressing business to attend to" Without another word, he turned and walked away. He knew now who the man had been and he couldn't bear to be around him for one minute longer. "That was my father Sol-leks" he whispered. "And he wasn't even sorry for what he did" He carried on walking until he came to a bar. Quickly he went inside ordered a drink and sat down to drink it. And the whole time, raw empty pain began to spread through his whole body as tears ran down his face. (Summary: Kane meets his father and finally realises that he's scum) [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] 238 From: Date: Sun Jul 29, 2001 2:06pm Subject: Part Four: The Betrayer October 7, 2003 6 AM Somewhere in the woods between Fort Condor and Junon ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The bright rays of the sun were finally breaking the darkness, creeping up from behind the mountains that loomed in front of her. She wore only the stuff that she had been able to quickly grab as she fled from the lab. At least it had been fairly easy, since she knew the place like the back of her hand. When the nurse had removed her from containment to run better diagnostics on her, most likely to see whatever had contaminated her, Khali had snapped the nurse's neck after unlocking her from the table. She had enough time to grab some clothes and break into the weapon locker, grabbing a pistol and some clips before the guards had been onto her. From there it had been an easy escape through the mazes that made up the lab... too bad there hadn't been enough time to take a few shots at Hojo. She knew that he'd probably send all the resources he could to find her. Recovery teams, tracking teams, and maybe just simply all out destruction teams to kill her. She had been stupid to trust him, but... Then she realized that she had stopped running, for some reason or another. "Well, Khali, so nice to see you again." The tattooed man that had haunted her in Junon stepped from the bushes, his eyes set on her. "I thought that I had lost you." Khali cocked her head to the side, the long pink hair shifting directions. Her eyes widened. "It's you! From.. Junon!" Memories ripped through her brain as she remembered what had happened. "Indeed... it is. I've need of you.. Or, rather, your body." "Yeah?" Khali raised her gun, aiming it at the center of his face. "I don't care. I'm on the run, and NOTHING's gonna stop me." She fired two shots, which passed right through the head and out the other side, slamming into a tree behind him. "Oh, yes... I should have told you before. I'm not real. Only you can see me, because I choose for you to." He stepped towards her, grabbing her neck in one of his monstrous hands. He sure felt real. He hoisted her up just a little, his eyes drilling through her. "Mm.. yes.. you certainly are the one." He let her fall. "The one? What the hell are you talking about?" "Certain... experiments.. have been performed on you by that insane professor. Certain experiments that I happen to find very desireable." He sniffed the scent of her body. "Desireable, indeed. I won't bother to introduce myself, since you couldn't begin to fathom who I am. But trust me, child... Your sacrifice shall not go in vain. With your help, I shall free my Brother." He moved back to her, pulling her up, before wrapping his arms around her. She couldn't struggle, even as she felt her body being invaded by him. And soon she could no longer see him, but then again... She couldn't seen a thing. *** October 7, 2003 6:10 AM The same woods -------------------------------------------------- "We have a visual confirmation on the target. All troops, move forward." He took a few steps forward until he could see their pink-haired target, then paused. "Khali! You're surrounded! You can't escape!" He waited for a few seconds before his face twisted into agony, a burning sensation ripping from his gut. "No escape? Perhaps for you..." The voice was not a female, but rather a deep and scratchy tone. The face turned, staring at the leader with glowing blood red eyes. With but a raise of her hand, followed by a twist, the leader's upper body twisted, ripping the man in half. A blood-filled scream, more like a gurgle, filled the air. The body parts fell. "Anyone else who wishes to die, come forth." Two, perhaps pumped on adrenaline or just scared shitless, jumped from their cover, their automatic rifles blazing. An energy shield, of sorts, covered Khali's body and her head turned again, launching the one still in the air back and into a tree, impaling him on the branch. Khali brought her hand down, bones snapping and blood spilling everywhere as she crushed the other man into the ground. "I gave you ample time to escape. So be it." A demonic roar ripped from the depths of her being as long untapped power spilled forth, upturning earth and tree all around her, eradicating all from existance. When the blast was finished, all that filled the area around her was smoldering ash and debris. She moved toward the body of the commander that she had saved, and flicked his communicator on. "Professor Hojo... I must thank you for this fine specimen in Khali. A good choice of experiments performed on her... And trust me, your injection shall prove to be very fruitful." "What? Injection?" "That which makes her smell as the Red tribe. It has a certain knowledge in it that I require." "Who is this?" "Hmm... You are a smart man. Can you not figure it out?" "Well, I'll be. What the scriptures refer to as 'The Fallen'?" "Close... I believe I came next, or before. After so long, you forget. My real name means nothing any longer, but I am called the Betrayer. And indeed... Khali here shall betray in as many ways as her blood allows. Farewell, damned doctor." Khali crushed the controller easily and stood, turning to face the sun. The Betrayer tapped into the blood that was of the Red tribe, finding for Himself the knowledge to a long forgotten tower... Dor-lomin, where Azazel the Fallen was sealed. His spirit was too powerful, and she was too weak. Already her body was growing larger, more slumped, several horns piercing the skin on her forehead. - Etrius 239 From: Date: Sun Jul 29, 2001 5:09pm Subject: Multiplication of Opporitunities (Ambrose--IV) ---------- Title: Multiplication of Opporitunities (Ambrose--IV) Place: Midgar Tower, UNSPEC offices Date: October 7, 2003 Time: 2:30 PM It was a rather typical day for Rude, He came in at 8:00, Ambrose had been there since 6:30. He got to work on the files Ambrose had left on his desk. His boss had left a half hour ago. The door opened, and Ambrose stepped in. Rude looked up, and did a double take. Ambrose didn't scowl, he didn't look angry in any way, and he didn't look disapointed. "Rude, take a look at these transcripts, see if you can make anything of them that I didn't take notes of. I'm out to look for some arms dealers." Ambrose turned on his heel and walked out the door. Rude looked down at the transcripts on his desk. They were of an interogation. ---------------- -Place: Sector 8 -Time: 2:45 Ambrose noted to himself, his mouth pulling itself downward into a scowl that could cause paint to peel. Anyone who knew his vein of thinking would know immediately what Corporation he was thinking of. It made his stomach twist, thinking of Shinra sponsering possibly the most successful terrorist organization in the history of midgar, save AVALANCHE. thinking for a second, he took that back, A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He picked up the PHS and placed a call over to the offices, where Isaiah was in the middle of recuperating from the mission, and, hopefully, writing a report. "You have any idea where they got the items in question?" being on a train severely hampered saying what is on one's mind. "No," was the shapeshifter's curt response. "Not even a mention? or a face to associate with deliveries?" "Not even. Wait... there was something. The Crates had a Blue "S" shape on them, does that help?" "Damn. I think you may have helped me narrow it down considerably. Thanks," he didn't even think about what he said when he hung up the PHS. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, allowing his head to hang tiredly. ----------- *Flashback* ----------- A seventeen-year old young man stepped off the train into the slums, he wore a faded T-shirt and jeans. His eyes had a quick, intelligent look, but were also showing signs of fatigue. No one really bothered with him. It was apparent he didn't have anything of value, no jewelry of any sort, no expensive looking watch, and the knife in the wrist sheath looked dangerous. He walked with a sort of lethargic sluggishness that hinted at a fatigue more fundamental than a need of sleep. He walked through the back alleys, not taking the Thieve's Highway (oog: Reference to Midkemia there), as he would've probably slipped and fallen. He walked down the stairwell to what used to be a sub-surface bar or cafe, but had long since been abandoned. Now it was the home of several shops, run by owners of less-than-legal backgrounds. Ambrose knew most of them to be good people, though. What had originally been a place to go for a drink and listen to music had been expanded, walls knocked out, agacent properties added. There was every shop you could need, there was Davram's Materia, the Thunderous Arms, and the Guildshop. Davram's was where he had bought his Stealth materia when he was fifteen, the proprietor waved to him. The Bastard had practically moved into a new tax bracket because of that purchase, but, on the other hand, Ambrose had grown quite successful since its purchase. The Thunderous Arms was where he was headed now. The clerk behind the counter was an ex-sniper, lost an eye in some war, and didn't have the depth perception to remain in that profession, he had turned his amazing knowledge of armaments to selling them. They were always a cut above the rest. "Need sumthin'?" he asked, sounding rather unpleseant. "I'm looking for a pistol, prefferably something versatile." "How about this?" he held up an older-model revolver. "No. Needs a larger magazine. You got that thing that the Turks use?" that caused an intake of breath. That particular model of pistol was expensive as well as rare. "How much you got?" Ambrose slapped four three-thousand Gil coins onto the counter. "Holy--! Kid, where'd you get that kind of money?" "Stole it," he said simply. "Well, twelve-thousand is pretty good money, considering I got the one I do have off a gun-runner for ten thousand...but, sorry, the asking price for it is fifteen thousand." Ambrose reached into his pocket and withdrew another coin, bringing him up to fourteen thousand, five hundred Gil. "Not going to cut it, kid. sorry..." Ambrose picked up his money and exited, the fatigue now coupled with disappointment. He needed that weapon. --------------- *End Flashback* --------------- The smell wasn't quite so bad, this time. The new government had managed to improve conditions down here, no matter what anyone said about it. He followed the back ways, a spring in his step, though not noticably so. He had a straight-backed way that made him seem more robust than any of the slummers, as if he was a different species of man, not like them at all. He stepped down, to where the underground cafe had once been, to the Crime mall of his memories. All business stopped when he entered. Everyone looked at him when he stepped through that door. It wasn't every day that someone walked in wearing a suit. He lost his good posture on the spot, and allowed his body language shift from the tight control that he usually had it in, to his old body language, languid grace, casual stance, not defensive or official in any way. He waved them back to their business as he shambled to Thundeous Arms. Everyone returned to what they had been doing. The guy in the Guildshop had said soemthing about a "wayward son of the guild" and everyone accepted it, though a few people aparently thought he was someone from the mob. It didn't matter. At least, it didn't matter until they recognized him as a government official. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter. "Can I help you?" the clerk said, straightening before this obviously important man. Ambrose stopped to wonder for a second how much appearances mattered in society, but stopped before philosophy consumed his mind. "I want you to make me a list." "Of what?" he asked, Ambrose could imagine him reaching for the weapon he probably kept under the counter. "Of all the gun runners in the city with connections to Shinra that would carry these items," Ambrose pulled out the list and handed it to him, allowing his eyes to scan the sheet of paper. "I don't think anyone has these kind of weapons. It was probably ported directly from the company, or stollen from government reserves." "Thanks anyway. listen, I want you to call this number if you think of anyone," he jotted down his PHS number, "Also, call me if you get in trouble with the law, I'll see what I can do." The man looked skeptical, but took the piece of paper Ambrose handed him. Ambrose stepped out of the underground market, and cursed to himself. (Summary: Ambrose has a flashback of his days as a thief, and asks the owner of the illegal weapons shop in the Crime Mall of sector 8 about BLUFF armaments.) [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] 240 From: Date: Wed Aug 8, 2001 5:18am Subject: End Game October 7, 2003 8 AM South of Cosmo Canyon ---------------------------------------------- The horned form of The Betrayer's vessel had moved faster than any creature in the world could ever have hoped. Nothing had seen it, nothing could have stopped it; not even the large ocean between the two continents could have hoped to stand in its way. The physical form had many limitations that were not liked... yet it was a very necessary evil to find its Brother. It now stood south of where the canyons began, staring at a small opening that lay in between two peaks against the cost - hidden to all save those that know of it. Thanks to Khali and the blood that flowed within her, it knew exactly what to look for. With its preternatural speed it lunged forward and ascended the peaks, moving into the opening and navigating the cave within with little effort at all. *** October 7, 2003 8:20 AM The Isle of Dor-lomin ----------------------------------------------- The mutating creature shielded its eyes as it stepped from the cave, the bright light piercing even through the thick leaves of the forest that the cave had exited to. Beyond the forest it could hear, feel, the screams and torments of its Brother's trapped spirit. With the same preternatural speed that had taken it through the cave it launched itself in that direction, pausing only momentarily to look up at the crumbling Dor-lomin before entering the great temple. *** October 7, 2003 8:30 AM Dor-lomin ----------------------------------------------- The part of its body that was of the Red Tribe made entering the temple simple. It raced through the halls at a careful pace, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, destroying all obstacles in its path. A door here, a pillar there, all in its quest to find its Brother. No lore, no magical energy, nothing could keep this growing beast from the tormented cries of The Fallen that grew louder with every turn, every step. And then... there they was. The giant doors, sealed with magic devised by elder cetra long ago, that led into the antechamber that housed the vile orb of black that sealed within The Fallen. The creature smirked - now even larger and with more spikes, its skin taking a faint tint of red - reaching its huge clawed hands through the magical barrier and into the doors, ripping them asunder so great was its power. It stepped forth, a slight hesitation in his steps at the sight of blue light. "Halt. The powers locked inside this orb shall not be released unto this world - not even by you!" The voice was deep but fair, commanding respect and cowing at the same time. The figure wore a robe and a helm of battle, and behind him stretched out great wings that emitted a bright blue light. In his right hand he held a great blade of wrath, it too emitting a bright blue light. He offered no time for the creature to give a response, nor did he expect one, and charged head on. The creature backpedaled, surprised by the figure and his actions, slicing upwards with the razor-sharp claws on its hands, only to have the figure halts its charge by the wings, pulling back a little. The creature pounced immediately, swiping its claws across the chest of the figure as he in turn brought the sword up and across the gut of the creature. The figure pushed back and to the side, creating some room between the two combatants. He groaned lightly, his left hand brushing over the blood coming from the claw wounds. The creature turned and sniffed, then snickered... gleefully? "If it bleeds... then it can die..." The corrupted, dark and gutteral rasp of a voice came forth from the creature's throat, licking some of the blood from its claws. It seemed to pay no attention to the pain ripping through its body from the huge gash in the stomach. "You bleed as well, demon." "Indeed, I do. This is just a shell, fool. Destroy this and I shall simply find another. You lose." The creature leapt again, its first flurry of blows countered by a few swipes from the sword. The figure then charged, slamming the sword in an overhead slam, but the creature leapt backwards again, the sword clanging hard on the stone ground and out of the figure's hand. It clattered fully on the ground, landing a few feet away. The figure dove for it but the creature caught him in the gut hard, taking hold of his legs as well, launching him hard across a wall. The light of the wings dimmed a bit as the figure fell down the wall, slumping against it once he came to the floor. He groaned, trying to recover as the creature stomped its way toward him. "You..." The figure tried to pick himself up, only to have the creature grab hold of the robe at his chest to hoist him up with ease. It slammed him against the wall a few times, then pulled the helmet off and crushed it before letting it drop to the floor. Long silver hair, splattered with blood in some places, adorned the head, a face that marked the man clearly as Cetra. The creature chuckled, holding him up further as it began to shred at his midsection and arms with its claws. It would have continued... "Stop." The creature paused at the voice that was still familiar after all this time, a voice that was dark and bitter. It looked up at the pained visage of the cetran before letting him drop to his slumping position again, groaning as he tried to retain consciousness. The battle had taken its toll on the body, though the wounds were healing, and the creature limped its way to the pedestal that held the dark orb of palpable evil. "Brother, how have you been?" A certain degree of awareness was left to the trapped being. "Wait... do release me now, we shall have plenty of time to destroy and speak later." "Hmph. You knew I was coming." The creature, now more Betrayer in body than female, raised its hands, chanting in a forgotten demonic tongue. Black waves began to radiate from the orb of materia as the ancient ritual was envoked, the chanting drowning out the pleas of the dying warrior, and soon the spirit of Azazel The Fallen floated in front of His Brother, The Betrayer. "Leave the pathetic little mortal be. Let him suffer and die, knowing that he has failed. I shall wait for you outside." The spirit rose, ascending through the ceiling and rest of the temple. The Betrayer, after pausing to grin evilly at the downed warrior, exited the way he came in, only this time pausing to defile the creation of his ancient brethren with a bit more destruction, exiting the temple through a wall which caused a minor cave-in behind him. *** October 7, 2003 8:50 AM Hojo's Lab ----------------------------------------------- The experiment had gone dreadfully wrong. A whole team dead of his already under-manned laboratory, one of his best agents gone, and to make things worse several of his creatures in the test tubes had become increasingly and suddenly violent within the past hour, requiring security surveillance. It had taken Hojo those couple hours to make the decision that he knew he'd dread. Grasping a controller, he closed his eyes and raised the plastic safety cover. "Farewell, Khali," he muttered with a slight tone of disappointment, pushing and holding the button semi-sadly. After a moment he flipped the cover back down, tossing the controller onto his desk and collapsing half-heartedly into his chair. *** October 7, 2003 8:50 AM Above Dor-lomin ------------------------------------------------- "So, Brother, how did you find me?" The Fallen's spirit form hovered high above the ocean, pretending to breathe deeply of the air. "The girl that provided this shell smelled of the temple's supposed protectors." The Betrayer's phsyical form floated beside his Brother, flying by Jenova's power, and shrugged a little bit. "What does it matter, hmm? She was weak, just as the rest." "I believe we have a reunion, Brother, with Jenova." Azazel turned his back to his weaker sibling and began to move toward the north. The Betrayer moved to follow but paused, a loud gutteral scream shaking from the depth of his being. He shook in turn, electricity crackling from within as the button that Hojo had pushed took effect on the implants next to Khali's heart and embedded in her skull. The electrical pulses stopped her heart and brain, jarring The Betrayer from her. His spirit form resorted to the tattooed man that he had taken the form of last, as the lifeless body of Khali Yulices dropped down into the crashing seas. The Betrayer blinked a few times but said nothing, instead turning to pass Azazel in their trip to Jenova. *** October 7, 2003 8:50 AM The Planet -------------------------------------------------- Panic streaked through the depths of the Planet as the spirits of both the Horrors shook the very core with their demonic presences. The Planet groaned painfully, shaking through the physical portion of the world as huge earthquakes across the globe; through the spiritual world and those sensitive to that portion as immense pain and suffering, ripping into every part of their being. An Avatar of the Planet awoke deep in the north-eastern oceans, giving out an ancient call that only certain things could understand... And with another great groan and shudder from the Planet, the giant WEAPONS awoke all over the world to do battle... Hopefully, the Planet would prove able to control and command them. [Summary: (I remembered this time!) The twisted physical shell of the Creature finds Dor-lomin, the Temple of the Ancients, and does battle with the cetra guard of the Black Materia. After defeating him he frees Azazel with an ancient rite, and they leave to meet with Jenova. Hojo decides the experiment has gone awry and chooses to kill Khali, stopping her heart and brain. This creates a spiritual Betrayer, which causes the Planet to panic and convulse with pain in the form of earthquakes and intense pain to spiritually-aware people. The WEAPONS are launched forth.] OOG: Well, there we go. The set-up of the plot is done now, so with the last few parts about the Planet and WEAPONS have fun. I THINK every part of WEAPONS was capitalized, though if I'm wrong feel free to correct me for future notice. Not a big thing, I just don't like being wrong. ;) I know of a few people that want to participate, but if you'd like to be a "major player" in the plot then please go ahead an email me at kupo a xxxxxxx.xxxx to go over some details. Also, do forgive me for not typing this sooner. I was struck with a rather painful amount of writer's block. - Etrius 241 From: Dizzy XIII Date: Fri Aug 10, 2001 6:40pm Subject: Shadow in the Sky (Vladimir and Elena) [OOG: Should've done this more than a week ago, when this was finished. Oh, well, here it is.] * * * * * * * * * * * * * Shadow in the Sky * * * * * * * * * * * * * Date: October 6, 2003 Time: Evening Place: Midgar Tower The two temporary members of UNSPEC stood at in entrance of the central building in Midgar. "Alright, since they decided to take Zeng to an unknown place, we'll have to tail them to wherever they'll have their little talk. For that, you'll need a car." "Think Rude will lend his?" "Yeah. He's not home to complain, but I'll call him about it later. You should get a bullet proof vest and some heavier clothes, if you don't want to ruin what you wear now. Do you need anything from home?" "No, nothing that I can think of." "Good. I'll head there now. We'll also need some means of communication, if you want to be able to follow him at a safe distance." "You mean I'll go alone? How do you get there?" "I'll fly. That way I can see everything and give you instructions on which way to take, without you having to have a visual." "Okay. See ya later." "Till then," Vladimir nodded. * * * * * * * * * * * * * Date: October 6, 2003 Time: Evening Place: Rude's house "Hey, old pal," Vladimir greeted Rude over the PHS. "I need to borrow your car for a mission. That okay?" "Sure. You know where the keys are, right?" "Yeah." "And don't scratch it." "Can't promise you that. But I'll repay the damages, even if it means buying some spare parts to the steering wheel and two tires that's left of the car when I'm done." "As I said: Don't scratch it." "We'll see about that. Later." "Later." Click. After putting his PHS in his coat pocket, he entered his room. He took out one or two of the materias in his arm guards and replaced them with other ones. 'I'll probably don't need so much firepower, so I'll take more defensive materias.' He also picked up two small, Turk issue communication devices, each consisting of an earphone and a small microphone reaching out to beside the mouth. 'One more call to make,' Vladimir thought as he reached for his special PHS, which is the one he use for safe transmissions to Hojo. But he didn't call him. An old friend answered. "Tseng here." "We might be enemies now, but I've got something that might interest you. A problem that we both will gain from by solving it." "Vladimir," he realized. "Figures, since no one uses our encryption anymore. What's this problem of ours?" "I'll make this short, since I don't have much time. I'll send you two files." Quickly connecting the PHS with a small computer, he picked out the files of Loric and Azrael. "These two persons and a few others have raided one of Hojo's secret labs, and have information we don't want loose. Some of it might be from a couple of our operations, which would be damaging to the old Turks, as well as Rufus." "I see. Anything else?" "They are planning to take a trip to the west, through Junon. Thunderred should be the one with the information. But he might've memorized it, and not have anything with him, so a little interrogation could be necessary to get more information about Hojo from him. Vindicar, however, is disposable. Since he is dangerous, I suggest you shoot him on sight. Just thought I should mention this, since I don't plan to take a trip to you anytime soon. Now, I got a mission, bye," Vladimir finished and hung up without waiting for Tseng to reply. With no time to lose, he half ran, half flew down the stair, grabbing the spare keys to the car and was out on the road in only a few seconds. * * * * * * * * * * * * * Date: October 6, 2003 Time: Evening Place: Outside Midgar Tower Elena was impatiently pacing under a street light, waiting for Vladimir to arrive. "Where is he?" she asked no one in particular. 'If doesn't hurry up, we'll miss our backup job,' she continued to think. 'And just such a good time too. I have a bad feeling about this.' Suddenly, she heard a car coming her way. 'Is it Vladimir?' The car was black, just as Rude's. But it wasn't his. To her despondency, the car turned, and stopped in an alley. The same alley she knew Zeng was waiting in. 'Damn, we're gonna miss them,' she thought worriedly, but something flashed quickly from a small side-street. She turned around and saw her companion waving for her to get over there as quickly as she intended to. "Where the hell were you?" she screamed quietly, as not to give away their position to the ones they were to shadow. "I came up behind the other car, so I had to take a slight detour. They might've noticed me otherwise. But there's no need to argue anymore, nor time. Get in here," he commanded as he opened the door and stepped out. "Right. The com unit?" she asked as she entered the vehicle. "Here." Vladimir handed her the small device. "Hopefully I won't see you until this is over. Just give me the directions." She closed the door and re-adjusted the seat. When she looked up again, he was gone. Not many seconds after, she heard his voice telling her that the other car went to sector three. At first she pressed the speed-limit, but her reconnaissance bat told her not to, as they weren't far behind after all. She breathed a short sigh of relief, but remained focused on her mission. After some time of driving, she was told to stop and turn into a dark alley in reverse, so that they could make a quick escape if necessary. She noted that Zeng had apparently just opened his door, and was following a guy to a large junkyard. A woman easily identified by her long, violet hair walked beside him. 'A perfect place to hide a smaller army for a possible ambush.' Elena's thoughts were confirmed when she got the locations of a couple of lightly armed men through her com unit. She noted that the vampire had placed himself high up on a construction crane. Sneaking inside the yard and placing herself behind an old bulldozer, she waited for a possible fight. * * * * * * * * * * * * * Summary: Elena and Vladimir gears up in the HQ and Rude's house respectively. With Vladimir's directions, Elena follows Zeng to a junkyard in sector three, where they watch Zeng's meeting. ===== /Dizzy XIII __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Send instant messages & get email alerts with Yahoo! Messenger. http://im.yahoo.com/ 242 From: Jay Steen Date: Tue Aug 21, 2001 2:59pm Subject: The Great Escape [OOG: This is too damn long! Sorry, I lost myself in writing, lemme get away with this, just once!] October 7th 2003 11:05am approx. Midgar Slums, Sector 3 Azeron grumbled, looking over his shoulder. It was wrapped and the glass had been removed, but the pain still remained. He was bruised heavily and had managed to crack a rib, although he could not remember how. The medic he had seen had been very patient with him, and had not asked any questions about the injuries. Azeron had suffered temporary amnesia, and had forgotten where most of his money was kept. The doctor had told him not to worry and that if he ever needed help again to come see him. It made the thief smile, to know that there were still some people out there who would do a good deed for free. “I’m not going home, not like this. Kirin would give me the third degree,” Azeron pondered to himself. “There’s that group leaving Midgar soon…or maybe they’ve already left…shame, I’d like to go with them. Of all the hopes and promises those people told me this place had to offer, it’s really no fun at all.” Azeron stopped and turned away as a gang of gun toting low lives passed by. “Gangs, killings, thievery…well, I suppose I’m not making the third aspect any better.” He turned to look at the plate above. “Those people up there must be having so much fun. Sure they have to work, but that’s just their way of life. They’re paid handsomely, and can afford to live it up,” Azeron thought as he looked back down at the sidewalk. October 7th 2003 10:45pm approx. Rich person’s house, Midgar Plate, Sector 4 Azeron tiptoed up the stairs, making sure that the next one did not creak before he stepped on it. The landing of the house was dimmed, although some light escaped from a bedroom at the end of the hall. He could hear a television blaring in the lit room, the boring monotonous voice of a news reporter on a news specific channel. He gave an annoyed look to the door, making an assumption that the person who was sitting in there was quite boring themselves, watching the news at eleven o clock. He turned, keeping a light foot as he traversed the landing. On the other side of the hall, a room lay with the door cracked slightly. There were no lights on, that much was obvious, but there was a strange glow creeping through the small slit. He pushed the door open slightly; noticing the glow was emanating from the window. “Moonlight…” he whispered, not hearing the shuffles coming from above. He wandered over to the window and looked up at the sky. Clouds were migrating across the navy blue cover of the planet at a very high rate, but they had reached a point where there was a large space in between two masses of clouds. The moonlight illuminated his face, giving his eyes a blue glaze. He was so in-tranced that he did not notice the dark figure sliding down from the rafters, a switchblade flicking out. “You…” a feminine voice spoke softly across the room. “What coincidence.” Azeron spun quickly to meet the greeting, and let a smile cross his face as the moonlight slid over his features. “Tory. What a pleasant surprise. And damn, you’re right: this is a coincidence,” Azeron whispered, watching Tory flick in the switchblade. At this point, Azeron noticed the woman sleeping in the single bed of the room. She looked to him to be in her middle ages, but her face retained the fair look of youth. He looked at her, noticing the prize he sought. Azeron proceeded to glide over to the bedside and try to lift the necklace. “Hey, I was here first,” Tory stated, walking to the opposite side of the bed. “MY necklace!” “C’mon, keep it down, we’ll either wake up this old fart or bring sudden alert to the old geezer watching the news,” Azeron commanded, and continued to lift the necklace. “Azeron, GET OFF HER!” Tory shouted, louder than was accepted for thieves on the job. At this the male thief stepped back, and made for the window. Suddenly a metal plate slammed across the window, and a similar plate rolled over the doorway. Azeron cursed loudly. A slot slid back in the doorway plate, and a pair of eyes beamed through. “Ha! You should’ve been quieter if you wanted to lift that thing! Looks like I’ve done my service back to the MSF, and they’ll be right over. No bail for you two!” The slot slid shut again after this short burst of babble. Tory looked bewildered. She soon lost the expression on her face, and sat down next to the still unconscious woman. “I knew that was going to happen. You ruined it Azeron, and now we’re stuck here. When we get found out for everything else we’ve done, we’ll be in jail for the next century. All thanks to you, you inconsiderate whelp!” Tory yelled. Azeron could not help but grin. This only made her angrier, but her anger was soon quelled when she saw the small green bead he now brandished. He turned back to the window, his face holding a look of utter concentration. His eyes drifted closed, and the bead began to glow a soft green. “I…Ice…” he whispered, the sweat rolling down his forehead and cheeks. The crystals materialised in front of him, and slammed into the window plate at such a high speed they tore through whatever metal had been used. Azeron half stumbled as he let the materia drop to the floor. He turned his perspiration-soaked face towards Tory’s, and looked into her eyes for a few moments, until proceeding through the hole he had made on to the street a story below him. Tory looked down at the orb Azeron had dropped, picked it up and stepped out of the blast hole too. October 7th, 2003 10:55pm approx. Side Street, Midgar Plate, Sector 4 Azeron ran from the house that he had broken into, already he was able to hear the sirens of some police cars. He could hear Tory’s footsteps behind him, he knew she was not stupid enough to run into police cars just to prove she did not need him. His energy slowly returned despite that fact he was running; casting that one ice spell had taken much more of his energy than he had thought, but had provided a much greater effect. “Shit…” Azeron cursed as he realised he had left behind the materia. However he did not stop, he knew that doing so would be suicide. He could hear more footsteps now, but a long way off. Half a dozen more, and…no…a gunshot? Soon running wouldn’t be enough. He had to find another means to escape. He turned the first corner he could find. Another alley, although wider. Maybe it could be considered a small street. There was nothing on it but…a motorcycle! He would just have the time to start it up and escape before they reached him. He threw himself on to the saddle, and ripped off the control panel. He touched two of the wires together a few times until the motor was revved up, and prepared to step on it. He turned around, just in time to see Tory jump on his back, wrap her arms around his waist and scream “GO!” This was all the incentive he needed to send the bike screaming out into the next road. The bike burst around the corner, screeching and leaving a trail of smoke. Azeron dodged around some cars that were moving slowly towards him, paying no attention to their blaring horns or loud insults. He knew the supposed police would be on his trail soon, with their faster motor bikes and firearms. He wouldn’t be able to stay on the plate any longer. He would probably never be able to return to the plate in a long time. Suddenly, a thought struck him. “We’re going away from the train station…” he muttered as the bike narrowly avoided a car on a crossroads. Sirens screeched loudly, from what he could judge they were not too far away. Tory’s grip on his stomach tightened. He pulled out his knife, and prepared to fight if necessary. He pondered his choices as he drove. He could try to get over the plate…but that would be suicide. The drop would be too far. Or, he could go up against the police. They would be far too much for him to handle. He would be caught and tried, he’d stolen great many things. He’d have a good ten years in prison, and he’d nearly be dead by then. No, he decided his chances were better on the outside. But Tory…was she willing to take the chance with him? He had no time to ask. It would probably be safer for her too. He steered the motor cycle around a corner and started towards the old abandoned number 3 reactor. None of the lights were left on but the Shinra posters and propaganda about the reactors being helpful to the planet had been torn down. He noticed a small spot moving across the sky next to the old reactor, although the helicopter-like machine was still very far away. He stepped off of the bike, removing Tory from his waist. He could see she looked very shaken from their ride, but she knew that they hadn’t finished yet. Azeron patted her on the shoulder, and began to climb the ladder he had spotted. When he was about a quarter of the way up he looked down, and urged Tory on. He could tell she was confused, but he knew what he was doing. He had seen someone he knew, in idle flight across the skies of Midgar. He knew that this person would help him. When he reached the top, he turned around and pulled Tory up with him. She was still bewildered as to his motives. Azeron leaned over the side of the building, and was met with the sharp sound of a gunshot. Azeron suddenly realised that these were no police – what kind of police force would shoot at their target? Maybe the sirens he heard earlier were cars going to another venue, and these were private people trying to protect that necklace. Azeron lead Tory around a pillar on top of the reactor, and let himself sink to the ground. Almost as suddenly as he had gone into it, Azeron withdrew from the trance of seriousness. A grin reappeared on his face, and his body became less tense. “Quite some ride, hmm?” He asked Tory, who was still slightly dazed. He did not wait for an answer. “We need to be getting out of Midgar, with all these bubs chasing around after us we won’t have a chance.” “So how do you propose to make an escape? You want me to…jump?” Her face fell when she saw Azeron’s smile. “No, I may be crazy but I’m not suicidal. I know what I am doing.” He replied with a grin. “Well, if you know what you’re doing, DO IT! We got people climbing that ladder back there! That means no-way-down!” Tory growled, her face screwing up with anger. Azeron looked at his bare wrist, and tapped an imaginary watch. “Only a little while longer,” he told her with complete calm. Tory’s anger morphed into fear, and she ran around Azeron and sat down next to him. He could see the fear in her eyes, and he was sorry to put her through this, but then, it was her fault. “You know, there’s still more to go. Only one more leap of faith.” “I lost my faith,” she stated, “when I met you.” Azeron laughed out loud. His laugh was cut short when he heard the chopping of rotor blades. His eyes focused on the edge of the old reactor roof. Up rose the graceful purple wings of the Tiny Bronco. It swung around, the cockpit and spotlight coming into view. Azeron returned to his laugh, however Tory screamed briefly and huddled up to Azeron. He pried her off, and told her that there was nothing to be afraid of. The plane swung around again, this time the back of the contraption was facing Azeron. He pointed to the tail fin, and pointed to Tory. She shook her head, so he pointed to the ladder. Her eyes widened, and she got up, slowly edging towards the jerking machine. “Don’t…” Tory kept her gaze fixed on the fin. “Look…” She started forwards. “Down…” She jumped. Her hands caught on the cold metal. She pulled herself up, and began edging along the left side of the helicopter vehicle. Azeron was about to jump when he heard the clicking of a magazine being loaded into a machine gun. He grimaced, and realised that it was over. The soldier squeezed the trigger. “ICE!” Tory bellowed as the crystals solidified around the attacker’s arm. He fell to the floor and screamed an insult. “Azeron! Jump on!” The thief wasted no time, and his hands connected with the cold steel as Tory’s had done a few moments ago. Another gunman had reached the top now, and was firing at the Tiny Bronco. Fortunately, the aircraft was far too far away to be hit. As soon as it was far away enough, the pilot set the ‘Bronco down. The cockpit window swung open, and out stepped a medium sized figure, porting a blue bomber jacket and jeans. “Howdy Az. I had no idea you got in that much trouble before you called!” Cid Highwind laughed heartily, and removed the cigarette from his lips. “Yeah, you know me…” Azeron grinned. “So who’s this lovely lady then? She ya missus? If so I don’t think you should be draggin’ them girls down with ya. You’re low enough already!” He laughed, stubbing his old smoke and lighting a new one. “I’m not, actually, this idiot screwed up my operation. I’d been planning to get that thing for ages!” Tory broke in before Azeron could reply. She gave Azeron a dirty look. “Hey, it was you who screwed up the ‘operation’ by shouting at the top of your voice…” “Dear me, kids these days…” Cid groaned, and took a long drag on his cigarette. Summary: Azeron is contemplating Midgar. He goes to steal a very valuable necklace at night. While at the house he runs into Tory and they are both caught, and they break out before the police arrive. They escape on a motorbike and Cid Highwind aids Azeron in his escape from Midgar. _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp 243 From: Matt The Kaiser Date: Tue Aug 28, 2001 8:33pm Subject: Zeng & Kytira: A Bad Plan Goes Awry. October 6th, Evening Zeng’s mind raced as he saw the car pulling up. “I must be Argoulor.” Mimicking his tone of voice over a mobile phone was one thing, but from the few times he had seen Argoulor he knew that convincing someone else would be far more difficult. As he concentrated, he saw his plan falling apart. He was about to encounter criminals on their own terms, unarmed except for his pistol and his curse, with only two strangers as backup. As if to add to his troubles, he had called in Kytira, and it was obvious the car was going to arrive before her. “She’ll ruin this without even knowing it.” At that moment, he resolved to enter the car without her, freeing himself of the need to explain Kytira’s presence or delays, and any responsibility for her death when things went wrong. Circumstances made a fool of him though, for at the same moment the car door opened, Zeng caught a familiar modification of the old SOLDIER uniform out of the corner of his eye. Kytira. Easily he recognized her running towards him, black pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of crisscrossed belts hugging her hips. Cursing the moment, Zeng closed the distance between the two of them, threw his arms about her waist and spoke twice. “Hey there baby!” came first in a voice loud enough for the driver to hear, “Play along and stay quiet.” Came after in a sharp whisper as his ear came close to hers. Any explanation of the state of his identity would have taken to long and aroused suspicion, so he pivoted his body about so that they were side-by-side. His mind screamed, “show off,” as he faced the car; that was Argoulor. With one arm still low around her waist, Zeng began to arrogantly saunter towards the car, calling out grandly “Driver! My lady and I are ready,” trying to mask his relief when Kytira’s arm came to rest upon his shoulders and she moved in step with him. With all the pompous mock dignity he could muster, Zeng released her body long enough to open the back door of the car, bending as low as he could, “Your chariot awaits!” he called out, knowing that if he sounded enough like an obnoxious jackass, he wouldn’t arouse any suspicion with the driver. Soft leather seats greeted the two impostors in the chilled back seat of the car. Settling into his seat, Zeng stretched unceremoniously across the space available, running his foot up against Kytira’s leg as she lowered herself into her own chair. From his vantage point, Zeng could see the driver and his partner, one seeming more intent on the rear view mirror than the road ahead, and one looking rather miffed at his intrusion into her space. In response to her attitude, Zeng only flashed her a playful smirk, casually flirting with her as he watched the driver out of the corner of his eye. With only one hand on the wheel, the man seemed to be an automaton, mechanically rotating the wheel as his eyes divided their attentions equally between the surroundings and the mirror that did not seem to be pointed at the road at all. Suspecting the hand not on the wheel was on a gun, Zeng decided to focus his efforts on playing the lady’s man with Kytira in an attempt further convince the driver that he had nothing to fear. After driving for a few moments in a large junkyard, the car came to a stop and the two were told to get out. They stood at the entrance to a large circular area relatively devoid of garbage. At the center was a well-dressed, expressionless man of indeterminate age, carrying a black briefcase in one hand. All about them were mountains of cars, beams, mattresses, and considerable amounts of old mako-powered equipment, including everything from a simple desk lamp to what looked like a jet engine from an old helicopter. The contact however, seemed placed in the one position mathematically farthest from all of this, and in about twenty meter’s distance there wasn’t anything higher than Zeng’s knee. All in all, it was a pretty place for an ambush. “Go on,” the driver told them, “Seth’s waiting.” From within five meters, Seth appeared no different than he had from ten, or from twenty, and until Zeng and Kytira were close enough to speak with him, his body remained absolutely rigid, appearing unaware of their presence entirely. When he began, his voice betrayed no more emotion than his face. “Greetings Mister Jarstan. You’ve brought a friend.” “That she is!” Zeng replied broadly, wrapping an arm about her shoulder, “This is my little kitten Seth, she goes where I go.” “Indeed,” Seth continued as if her presence was irrelevant, “I have brought you hear to discuss the terms of a new contract between you and the Syndicate. Before the unfortunate termination of your previous contract, you were quite a valuable asset. I have here,” Seth indicated his briefcase, “a contract which we are sure you will find acceptable.” “I take it they still tell stories about me at the fireside too,” Zeng glanced toward Kytira to gauge the affect of that name, but Kytira’s eyes were up on the garbage “I might be interested, but first, tell me about Vindicar.” “Well you see Mister Jarstan, the problem is that the Syndicate does not perform services for delinquent employees.” Zeng paused. Seth had something up his sleeve, but before he could think any further, Kytira touched his arm, leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Men on the trash heaps.” “Yes Kitten,” Zeng patted her arm and smiled, “I love you too, but right now, I have to discuss business.” Her eyes narrowed suddenly, he knew she hated being called that, but his bigger worry was her lips, she was beginning to form a Z, beginning to call him Zeng. Abruptly, he grabbed her arms, dragging the surprised woman towards him. Without hesitation, he placed one hand behind her head and kissed her. Without any idea what he was doing, he did his best to make the kiss look convincing while holding her as tightly as he could, but she did not resist, in fact, she seemed to almost be participating. “She’s shocked…I need a plan…but this is… focus Zeng!” Suddenly, he reached down with his hand, running it along her back for a moment before hovering over the curve of her bottom. Commanding his hand to squeeze, he felt her rear beneath his palm for only an instant, then felt her palm across his cheek. “Just what the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?” she was infuriated, but at least she hadn’t started breaking any bones. “Keep your fucking hands off me!” “Whoa baby, it’s me… Argoulor,” As he said this he reached for his arm, pulling a sleeve tight on the side not facing Seth. Through it, she could see the shape of the materia through the fabric; he could only pray she understood. Miraculously, she stopped speaking before she said something that would give them away. Seth continued unfazed. “You have a new tattoo.” Seth observed, “Gemini.” Zeng nodded slowly in response “I got it a year ago, don’t ask,” “You also have discarded your rifle. You once told me it was as much a part of you as any other organ in your body. This makes me quite unnerved.” With a perfectly level voice and a face that might as well have been a painting, he certainly didn’t seem unnerved. “The rifle was recently destroyed.” Zeng assured him, “I haven’t had the funds to afford a replacement.” “That is understandable,” Seth quickly held the briefcase before him and opened it so it faced Zeng. In it Zeng saw the disassembled pieces of a sniper rifle, a neatly typed contract, and as much gil as could fit inside. “This is yours, you have only to sign the contract and give it to me.” Reaching in for the contract, Zeng began to plan again; how could he forge Argoulor’s signature? Losing himself in his own scheming, he neglected to notice the latching mechanism of the briefcase had caught the sleeve of his shirt, slowly forming a tear. Once he had lifted the contract out of the briefcase, he froze, the many irregular facets glistening green under the setting sun. “As I thought,” Seth commented, “You are not Argoulor.” Immediately, he lifted a PHS to his head, tapping a speed dial button. “You may fire at will gentlemen.” ******** Summary: Zeng, pretending to be Argoulor, and Kytira are taken to a junkyard where they encounter Seth and an ambush waiting. When Zengs identity is discovered, Seth orders the ambush to begin. ******** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp 244 From: Date: Wed Aug 29, 2001 11:15pm Subject: Plans October 7, 2003 8:51 AM Northern Crater ------------------------------------------- It had taken no time to reach the giant crater in the north, where in time past the parasite known as Jenova had landed. The spirits of the two Horrors were not tied to the rules of the physical realm, and thus passed great distances in but the blink of an eye. She was there... their mother, Jenova. They descended into the crater. It wasn't long before they came to the hideous form of Jenova. She waited for them, her arms open in an ironicly human move, beside her the body of Sephiroth sealed in a Mako Crystal. They paused, looking at him, but Azazel stepped forward. "Greetings, mother." His voice broke into the physical world at his whim. "I trust you have been well." "A long time..." The monster struggled to speak; tentacles twitched as the words were more gurgled and growled forth than spoken. "I have no... energy." The Betrayer now came forward. "Who is he?" An etherial claw pointed at the crystalized Sephiroth. "Our replacement?" "I required... a pawn... a protector... to free me..." One of the tentacles slapped forward, snapping just before the Betrayer's face. "You will not... speak to me... in such a way... Damocles. I bore you... I can destroy you..." Jenova coughed, hacking up some blood that stained the snow covering the rocks. "Already.. this rock attempts to... thwart us... I must have its... energy..." "Of course, Mother. Add the life of this world to your collection, and allow us to protect you in this time. Not that... pathetic excuse for a human." Azazel pointed at Sephiroth, and Jenova nodded. She took the power that she had placed him under her control with away, turning to move deeper into the crater to be closer to the Planet's core. Azazel focused energies at the crystal, destroying the majority of it and launching it from the cliff, letting it crumble more as it smashed against the sides of cliffs; Sephiroth fell from his restrains as the crystal shattered, until both he and the shards disappeared into the lifesblood of the Planet. Damocles hissed from behind his brother. "She is weak! We could have her now!" "Are you so foolish, Brother?" Azazel turned, staring furiously at Damocles. He paused, and began again when calm. "Patience, dear Brother. We shall have our moment. You forget that I have been imprisoned, and have power to regain. We shall use this world as our plaything, and let mother leech this world dry." Azazel again turned, looking down into the Lifestream, then ascended a bit. "Come now, Brother. We have work to do." As the Horrors left the Planet again sent spiritual screams of pain across its surface, again attacking those spiritually aware and launching physical disasters globally. *** October 7th, 2003 Lifestream ---------------------------------------------- Sephiroth floated deep in the Lifestream, strung up in its current around the world. He was himself once again, in spirit, body and mind. And yet, all that kept repeating in his mind were the last words he heard Azazel speak... ... Pathetic excuse for a human... [Summary: The Horrors descend into the crater, meeting Jenova. They question Sephiroth, and eventually Azazel throws him into the Lifestream. Jenova disappears into the pits of the creater to start suctioning away the Planet's power.] 245 From: Date: Thu Aug 30, 2001 10:16pm Subject: Forlunnia's Entrance... October 8, 2003 10:39 PM Kalm ------------------------------------------- The dark, ominous woman stood in the shadows of an alley-way between two stores, pensively watching the townspeople that past with hateful, almost fiendish violet eyes. It had been a rather displeasing homecoming for the mysterious one thus far, and was fortunate that she had no intent on staying longer than need be... At the moment, over her usual garb, she was wearing a black velvet cloak to conceal her identity, but from underneath the hood, one could plainly see the eerie glow of her slitted eyes... All of a sudden, the woman's seemingly lathargic lounging broke into immediate action, snatching roughly a feeble old man walking out of the Item's Shop to her left. In the work of an instant, she pulled him savagely into the alley with her and thrust his back into the alley wall, holding him pinned as she glared at him contemptuously. The old man could only tremble violently with terror as she hissed, "What ... do you know ... of Sephiroth...?" The poor witless fool was fightened into silence. A fatal error around one of little patience. In her temper, the cloaked woman slammed the old man's back harder against the wall, curling her lip into a vicious snarl as she whispered louder, "I shall not repeat myself, feeble one! Answer me!" With a yelp, the old one managed to stammer, "S-Sephiroth's been dead awhile now! H-Honest! The only thing left of 'em, folks say, is his actual body in some big crystal thing in the Northern Crater! B-B- But that's only a r-rumor!" The violet cat-like eyes flared so intensely at the man, he felt as though she were studying his soul. After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke again, calmly but darkly, "You ... Your people ... You pitiful humans ... You lie. And terribly, might I add. Sephiroth ... is still with the Planet's energy ... I can sense my own, and he is the strongest. You disgusting mortals can decieve others of your kind, but not a Cetra! No matter..." At this, she let the man slump to the floor piteously. "The ... Northern Crater ... Hmmmm ... Perhaps it is still a location of interest..." While the cloaked one mused to herself, the old man was trying to crawl away. At this, the woman's concentration was broken and she glared at him again. Only this time, as her eyes locked upon the man's fragile frame, they flashed. Instantaneously, the man was sent wrealing backwards with the force equivilent to a kick in the face. With a savage air of calm, she walked over to the winded human and placed her foot on him, cruelly digging the high heel of her boot into his chest. At this, the old one could only cry out weakly in pain. A disturbingly pleased smile crossed her dark lips as she swept the hood from her head with a partially-gloved hand. The raven-haired woman continued to smile evilly at the helpless man on the ground as she said with deadly amusement, "That's what I loath about you pathetic creatures ... You think you can simply get up and leave whenever you fancy. I never even dismissed you..." She reached behind her, under her cloak, to pull out a steel crossbow plated in certain sections with black and gold chrome. Pushing a hidden button near the trigger handle, she extended the twin piers, pulling the bowstring taunt. As she loaded a bolt into place, she continued to speak. "Unfortunately, you've angered me. Therefore, you've become dispensable..." The old man's eyes widened as a gasp of horror passed his trembling lips. The last words he ever heard were, "You must die, now..." ***Ssssssshunk!!!*** `````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` October 8, 2003 12:02 AM Kalm Outskirts ------------------------------------------- The Dark One who had murdered the old man in Kalm now stood looking out at the ocean, standing near the shores that lay miles away from her birth town. By her side was a tall, powerful black- plumed chocobo, it's broad, grey beak hooked like a hawks and large eyes smoldering like red-hot embers ... Her steed, Apocolypse... The woman stroked the savage-looking bird's neck as she spoke to him, her eyes never leaving the dark blue waters that reflected the stars of the night sky, "Sephiroth ... They say you have returned to the Planet ... But I know wiser ... Your soul is too strong to remain in the feeble restriants of the Lifestream ... And I *shall* find you ... Or my name isn't Forlunnia Ebonbane..." The demonic chocobo let loose a hideous-vulture like shriek, as if agreeing with her words. Forlunnia turned her gaze to meet that of her crimson-eyed mount and she chuckled evilly through her sinister smile. Climbing up into Apocolypse's saddle, the two of them rode off into the night... {Breakdown: Forlunnia returned to Kalm, where she was born, seeking information about Sephiroth. She scares an old man into telling her something minor, then kills him. After that, she leaves the town in the dead of night towards the Northern Continent.} 246 From: Jethro Logan Date: Sat Sep 8, 2001 5:17pm Subject: Hello my name is Jet i would really like it if i could join thanks. Tales of Midgar: Revolution ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Persona Sheet ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ --- Player Information Name (or alias): Jet E-mail Address: jeteagle25 a xxxxxxx.xxxx Age: 12 Gender: m ICQ/AIM/Yahoo Pager! (etc): Other notes: none --- Character Quick Reference (Keep these fields short.) **Name: Eagle **Age: 25 **Occupation: Mercenary **General Appearance: A dark figure **Personality: A lone mercenary who usually gets a job done, for a price. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Character Information ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ -Name: Eagle -Age: 25 -Race: Human -Birthday: 20th march -Gender: m -Height: 5' 5" -Weight: 7Ibs -Hair (color and style): Brown short hair -Eyes: Hazel -Complexion: -Voice: Deep -Build: fairly skinny -Facial Features: Stubble -Identifying Marks: A scar under his knuckle on his right hand middle finger -Dress/Clothing/Jewelry: A navy blue fleece jacket, a light blue t-shirt, dark blue jeans and black trainers -General Appearance: A dark figure ~~ -Occupation: Mercenary -Secondary Skills: sniper -Extra abilities: athletic -Hobbies: none ~~ -Personality: Parents killed in a terrorist raid, Eagle has learnt to take care of himself even in dangerous situations but he is always waiting for a chance to avenge his parents. ~~ -Background: A lone mercenary who usually gets a job done, for a price. ~~ -Affiliation/Organization: None -Reputation with various groups: Performed jobs for them ~~ -Mother: None -Father: None -Siblings: None -Mate: None -Children: None -Pets: None -Birthplace: Unknown -Current Residence: Cheap hotels ~~ -Weapons: Two laser pistols with sniper scopes on -Armour: Bulletproof vest -Materia: Restore -Other items: grenades ~~ -Other notes: none __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? 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