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[M][Earth] Of the People - Sigfried Hunin - 01-08-2011
The question was less what she could do and more what she couldn’t.
In the hands of a clever orator a young, pretty face could bring nations to their knees and pull them apart, stripping the populace of reason and all notions of self. If Victoria did all that was asked of her, which portended of little but to stand there looking pretty and spout out a few prefabricated lines, Roy’s message would spread like wild fire. In politics is it worst to be a scholar, better to be a fool, and best to be beautiful.
He slid the tip of his finger over the smooth surface of the fork’s lower edge. He pressed his hand into it before peeling it up and away from the tacky checkered tablecloth. That’s what those old plastic ones did with age, they began to cling to your dishes and silverware. It reminded him of home. He strained for a moment, trying to recall home, the old street names, his friends. Roy’s brow furrowed for a moment but he was quickly called back from the moment by that sweet malaises voice.
“Mr… I mean, um, Roy?” Victoria cocked her head to the side like a lost puppy. “Is everything alright?”
The feather-haired man thrust forth another wide grin and ran his hands flat over the table. “Oh, what? Me? Yes, fine, fine. I’m fine.” He diverted his eyes down and nodded once again. “But back to business, right?” He cleared his throat and readjusted himself in his seat. “Well, I was going to try and pull together a rally next week, if you would like to join me as a guest speaker?”
She stared out at him for a moment before diverting her eyes. Something in her swelled with a flicker of fear. Perhaps the public eye. Maybe she was just shy. Whatever it was though, it was there. A glimmer of terror. “Well, um, I dunno…” Her voice trailed off as she plucked at her triple stack of syrup soaked carb.
“Here, I’ll make it easy on you. I’ll do the talking, and we can set you up with a few things to say, if you’re alright with that that is, and then you don’t have to worry about being nervous, right?” He punctuated his offer by leaning across the table and softly laying his hand on hers.
After a long moment of staring down at the contact, she allowed her gaze to flicker back up to the man in front of her. Such a strange girl. He clenched his fingers gently, like a caring spouce might in a moment of hardship. Might want to keep some of her stranger parts out of the equasion.. His eyes locked with hers and he allowed his sincerity to bubble forth and flow out of them. Cue cards might be best. “So what do you think?” His voice was soft, lilting gently between the ticks of the clock. But damn if that face doesn’t sell.
A dim shade of rose spread across her cheeks and she bobbed her head gently almost as though she had been hypnotized.. “I can’t promise anything with my work, but I’ll try my best.”
Suddenly withdrawing his hand Roy spread his arms wide and once again flashed his teeth. “Fantastic! Well, we have each other’s numbers right?” He shuffled around in his seat a moment before stopping and looking out across at her. “Oh wait, I don’t have yours do I?” It was a trick he had learned in college. It was a dirty, underhanded trick that could be used so many times over.
“Ah…” she pinched her eyebrows together and reached into a pocket carefully. “No, I guess you don’t!” She tacked on another arbitrary giggle. Her tiny bouts of laughter would either drive Roy insane or to bed with her, but neither one was particularly of use for his agendas. He tried to avert his attention from the tiny breast pocket as she fiddled around with it, inadvertently jamming her hand into her own breast. She would never see it, but he had curled the napkin in his lap into a tiny ball. A tiny bead of sweat coalesced on his forehead and it was all he could do but bite his lip. Finally those thin, ginger fingers retrieved a thin scrap of paper and lay it out on the table in front of her. Grabbing a pen she clicked it open and slowly rolled the tip over the breadth of her tongue.
“Anything else I can get for ya?” The dignified Mr. Munin jumped slightly as the waitress stepped out beside him, toting a small order sheet and an irate expression her face. She tapped the pen against the paper and pursed her lips impatiently.
“Ah no thatnk you for now…” He searched her uniform for a name tag. “Ah… Beth! No thanks Beth.” He nodded to the aged waitress and she looked over to the young pink haired girl across from him.
“Anything for your date?” Her voice was dry, like she had choked on a packet of Rock Pops.
Roy glanced nervously over to Victoria. “Oh no! No, we’re not on a da-“
“No thank you.” She smiled and nodded to the waitress, indicating she wanted her to go away now. He pressed her hands into her lap as she watched the server walk away, not breaking eye contact until she was safely in the kitchen.
She pushed the tiny white scrap over the table to Roy with her middle finger. “There you go!”
Roy took it up and read I over once, checking for all seven digits. “All right! I’ll call you with the details alright?” He glanced around the room shortly and slowly leaned in over the table. He swallowed once and left his tone quiet. “So, you live alo-“
Beth slammed down the ticket on the table as she coughed loudly. She gave Roy a stern sideways look as though to ask, “What are you doing, boy?” He narrowed his eyes at her and snatched the bill up quickly. “Thank you,” he said with as little venom as possible.
The bill read a measly six zenni for the meal, but on the tip line a red pen had marked: “Here’s a tip: Date women your own age!
–Your Friendly Chef” Roy sneered and left a credit chip on top of the paper before standing up.He extended his hand to meet Victoria’s and he nodded firmly as she took it up. “Well, it was a pleasure having breakfast with you. I’ll see you soon?”
“Oh yes, you certainly will be seeing a lot of me.” She tilted her head to the side innocently.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
“FUCK YO COUUUUCH!” Hati screamed as he jumped to his feet and pointed at the flat screen television that they had fitted into the dingy basement abode they had made for themselves. He held the controller over his head and pumped his fists in the air dramatically. “What, oh yeah, suck that noise, BITCH!”
Skoll stared at him stoically, an expression tinged by irritation, before pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. He calmly set the controller down on the floor in front of him and reclined into his seat. Grabbing his book he cracked it open once again and began to read. “Yeah, good game man. Play again some time.”
Hati jumped around the chair humping the air and slapping an invisible ass as he did so. “Ugh! Ugh! Take it!”
Skoll simply rolled his eyes and flipped the page. “Mhmmmm…”
Sigfried suddenly erupted into the front door and huffed, tossing his skull cap onto the couch to his side. He flicked the door shut behind him and let it slam as he skulked over to the couch and fell face first down upon it. “Hrrrnnghhhh.” The other two practically ignored him until Skoll turned to him and lifted an eyebrow.
“Did he not want to go to prom with you?”
Sigfried produced a pillow and hurled it across the room into his mocker. “I just hate him sooo muuuch.” He crawled onto his forearms and glared across the room. “So much man. He’s falling for this freaking broad, I know it. I can see it in his stupid eyes man.”
Skoll shook his head and returned to his book. “You saw that, huh?”
“Fuck yeah I saw it! He’s gonna jack everything up cause he goes all puppy eyed over some stupid pink haired bimbo with a three inch skirt.” Finally writhing a seated position he let out a long exasperated breath. “Why can’t he be asexual? Why?”
“You know he’s better at all that then we are. We just gotta let him work. He knows what he’s doing.”
Hati chimed in. “Yeah, and you might actually, you know, get some.”
“Shut the fuck up, Hati.” Sigfried was not in the mood for any Hati’s bullshit at the moment.
Hati reared up mockingly. “Ohhh, sorry man.” He stepped over to the fridge and cracked it open, rummaging around. “Yo, you want any lunch? Some glucose might balance your blood sugar and make you a little less bitchy.”
Sigfried shook his head. “Yeah, yeah that would be great.” He gestured in his friend’s direction. “Sorry man, I’m just freaking exhausted. Getting one fourth sleep of what I normally do really piles the stress on.”
“Well if you’d stop being so paranoid we’d all be able to go to sleep and it wouldn’t be such a problem.” Skoll cast a cruel glance at Hati in response to his statement.
“That would be stupid. Besides, it helps the illusion of it all.”
Hati hacked to clear his throat as he planted the frying pan on the electric oven and turned it on. “Yeah but we could go in shifts or something. Give you a rest. I mean, two out of three asleep isn’t as bad as one out of three, right?”
Sigfried nodded. “Yeah that’ll work. I just can’t do one out of four. Having Roy around is like a full time job man. It’s so fuckign stressful trying to manage him.” He dropped his hands to his sides and gawked at Hati. “Get this dude. So at the freaking restaurant, whatever it’s called. Ahhhhh… Tony’s? Yeah, Tony’s. Yeah well he was about to make a move on her dude! Can you believe that?”
“Got to get it somewhere man. Might as well be young and stupid.” He flipped the egg he had been cooking and sprinked bits of diced lunch meat over it. “Yo you want Chicken Sauce?” Sigfried nodded in approval just as Hati sprayed a thick line of spicy sauce over the omelet.
Skoll closed his book and leaned forward. “Well, all that aside, are you two ready for tonight? It’s gonna be hectic. Is everything in place?”
Sigfried nodded, accepting the hot plate from Hati. “Yeah, everything’s set up. The stuff is in place, I’ve got some good images of the aliens. They’re like... funny looking humans in crap clothes so it shouldn’t be hard.” Stuffing his face with hot egg action he looked to Hati. “You?”
“Yeah, all the wiring is in place thanks to the interwebz.” He kicked back and turned his laptop around to display a “How To” site with several images of complex circuitry and wires. “I even tested the shit. It’s good to go man.”
Sigfried grinned, bits of bargain meat and yellow egg in his mouth. “Sweet! What about you Mr. Skoll?”
Skoll nodded sternly. “Yes, everything seems to be set. So long as Roy doesn’t get wise there shouldn’t be a hitch. He’s so caught up in his evangelism as it is I can’t imagine he’d be any the wiser.”
“Fan. Fucking. Tastic.”
-Three Days Later-
“Here today we see the fifth and final personnel ship landing here, on Mercy.” The reporter’s image flickered in and out, the live stream momentarily interrupted by the violent interference that Mercy’s sand blasted terrain offered. “Each holds approximately one thousand volunteer militia collected from Earth and other colonies here to fight for the safety and protection of their home world.” A massive ship, long and sleek slowly lowered itself to the ground as repulsors leveled the landing out. “Who knows the threat that they have come here to face, but surely you know that each and every one of them are preparing for a harrowing descent into the Hell of war.”
The man now began to walk forward against the onslaught of dust, sand and debris that the ship kicked up as he approached the landing dock. “Enemy forces have been noted within the area, though our current sources do not have any leads on how they have been landing planetside or navigating the terrain.” A quick image of a yellow-clad pseudo-human blotted out the live scene but the man continued to speak over it. “Thus far, we have not identified the invaders and they speak a language not native to any known within the universe. We do however know that they cannot make the sound of ‘shh’ and so it has become the hailing mark of all organized fighting forces.”
Standing triumphantly in front of the huddled, confused masses of willing participants that flowed from the mighty craft, the reporter concluded his tale dryly. “Who knows what these days might bring, but CNN is here to report.”
Sigfried sat alone in the living room, the light of the screen the only illumination. He grabbed the clicker and depressed the power button, leaving him in the black. A sudden shimmer of light arose from his chest and shone brightly. “Aint no rest for the wicked” He chuckled to himself softly.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Roy Munin stood on a real podium now, a large gathering of individuals gathered just outside of the Mayor’s Office. His heart swelled with nervousness, wringing his hands into themselves as he paced back and forth, practicing his words over and over in his head. Victoria stood only a few feet away staring on to him.
“I’m sure it’ll all be fine.” She reassured him from afar, her words oddly distant. She wasn’t used to being kind in that way, Roy figured.
“Yeah! It’ll be great! I’m glad we managed to get such a big crowd from just some flyers and a little radio add… Your voice must really add to the commercial, huh?” He offered a nervous smile before he straitened his back and cracked his neck. “This is what I was born for.” He repeated his mantra that he had coined in his early debate days. Eerie how true the statement was, though he didn’t know it.
Victoria smoothed her elegant black dress, the several floral layers of the outfit cute but oddly fitting for the event. “Are you ready? It’s about time.” She urged him on, taking on the roll of his “assistant” while Sigfried was away. Now that I think of it where is Sigfri- Victoria nodded to him as he approached the stage. “Ready?”
“I was born ready.” He winked at the young lady and stepped out into the blinding light of a crowd of attentive faces. A few camera crews had made their way there and a lone news paper photographer. He had stirred up a lot of people since he had begun his campaign here in Central City and apparently his avalanche was only gaining snow. He saw a few skeptics, well, more than a few. The important thing was that they had come though. That meant that his ideas had enough worth to listen to. This might be the moment he made history.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Skoll finished attaching a few plugs with black leather gloves. Grunting as he forced a final rig into its socket he gave it a soft tug to ensure that it was secure. Rolling onto his back he slowly shuffled his way out from under the massive appliance. Thirteen minutes seemed appropriate to him, and so he coded in the numbers and began to walk away.
The neck-biting winds of the rooftop cut into him as he made his way for the roof access exit. He grasped the handle and tugged it open and began to tumble each foot in front of the other as he descended the stairwell.
He hoped that thirteen minutes was enough for him to get clear of the damn thing. Nobody likes radiation poisoning.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Hati bobbed his head slowly to the tune of his high BPM techno as he strode down the street. Out the corner of his eye he saw the massive group of people that had amassed for the rally a few blocks down. He began to stride quickly towards the gaggle but it sounded as though Roy had already started his speech.
Now, technically that meant he had no idea how long it would be to the drop but he knew he would be able to figure it out. “See? Who needs directions. Fuck Map Quest.”
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
The pigeon swooped and fluttered quicker than most people would have liked to give it credit for. They’re the rats of the sky alright, but they’re the fast rats of the sky. It navigated the streets with a horrific photographic memory that allowed them to remember where to drop of messages and raise their tiny disgusting young. In a final flourish it perched upon the peak of the office, peering down upon the crowd gathered below. If pigeons gave a crap about people, it might have been worried about how close they were to the building.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
“… ignore this intergalactic threat any longer than we already have! We’ve seen what they’re capable of and it’s only a matter of time before they show up here, on our soil, and take us by surprise. How many times has the government lead us astray? How many wars have they lead and lost here on Earth? I’m not one to say I know anything about warfare. I’m not a general. But I do have some common sense in my head. I think you all do too. Do you really think that the alien threat is going to stop out there?”
He turned to the side of the stage and gestured to Victoria calmly. “Here to help me illustrate my poi-“
The counter expired.
A young man pointed and screamed.
An alien stood proudly on the roof, overlooking the rally.
The creature pointed out over the screaming hordes of onlookers as they fled. They glanced back at what seemed to be a human who’s face… who’s face was inhuman. His right foot was propped on the ledge of the structure as he screamed some unknown profanity or declaration of war. It was all gibberish to the people below anyways. Mothers grasped at children and fathers shielded sons. Roy turned and looked as the creature oddly glowed from behind, an eerie radiation emanating from what seemed to be an alien craft perched behind him. “What in the mother of God?”
With a malevolent cackle the being Leapt up into the air and cast both hands down at the base of the structure before disappearing behind the side of building.
KRAKA-KOOOM!!
Suddenly the lower floor disappeared in a wall of flame and force that pushed the trusses out from beneath the upper floors. With a deafening crack the office began to tip to its side as a chorus of screams filled the air.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Victoria - 01-09-2011
Darkness filled the hotel room, save that of the streelights filtering in from the window. There was also, far off across the room, the flare of a computer screen illuminating the features of Victoria's face. Her hands moved deftly along the smooth keys, clicking away, as she began to detail her mission thus-far. Being undercover meant keeping accurate reports. The hunter always did enjoy having everything put down, it made her feel grounded and focused. Many recruits had lost their heads while assuming a different role for extended periods of time. This wasn't her first...but she didn't perticularily like playing stupid and innocent.
Do you believe them . . . ?
Victoria typed upon the keyboard, paused, and stared at the screen. White teeth nibbled and chewed against her bottom lip; a nervous habit. Fingertips moved once more, replying to the message as best she could. Her report explained everything in technical detail...her personal opinion was never part of such necessities.
Roy Munin is obsessive, almost to the point of insanity. I'm compelled to believe that he is either clinically insane, or very, very sure of this entire theory. It's been five days since I came to Central City and all I've gotten is pamphlets and a sore jaw from all this fucking smiling. Also, you'll see in my report, I've been using the standard approach of female to male relations...there's no doubting that Mr. Munin is interested in me, but his attendance to the Earth Militia is above and beyond any self-preservation...It's almost as if he were made for this.
Slender digits paused once more, the hunter licking her lips in trepidation. She opted to leave out other, personal observations. There was no denying the details of an attractive man, because Roy was, for all his charming and obvious philandering. Victoria was a smart, deadly, hunter. Yet, underneath it all, the girl was still just a girl. She could never tell her superior that sometimes with all her undercover flirting, she felt as if she weren't undercover at all.
There's a rally tomorrow, I'll be attending. If something doesn't present itself soon I'll be coming back. This is either a massive hoax, conspiracy, or Roy is telling the truth. I can't find any evidence to dispute it and...I feel as if I've been kept away from the others on purpose. Our target believes that I'm the poster girl, and my appearance has garnered more interest, but there's been absolutely no chance of my being able to talk, or meet, with the other supposed members of this organization. It's almost as if they don't exist...If this is all true, then an attack is immanent. I'll let you know more after the rally.
She pulled away from the laptop and her arms lifted above her head. Strands of cherry dragged down her back, and over her shoulders, her head inclined. Toes curled and then flexed with the mild stretch that weaved through her body, as she sat in shorts and a cut off t-shirt in the middle of the night. It was the only chance for her to stop pretending. The truth was...Victoria really wanted to punch someone in the face.
--
The rally was in full swing. All of their efforts had paid off, or, so they hoped. Victoria smiled and waved with her small dainty hand, people really did seem to like looking at her. Eyes were pinned to the length of her toned legs, only obscured once her black dress fluttered against her knees. The attire was suitable, and gave her that pretty little edge required of her. She had also gone so far as to pin up lengths of hair in a way so as to give it layers, in a pony-tail fashion. The hunter looked anything but brutal, dangerous, or vicious in any sense of the word. If anything, Victoria looked good enough to eat.
He really does like referring to me for all his points...she thought to herself, before flashing a wide smile. It was at that moment when a man from the crowed screamed. It didn't take more than that to have the hunter's eyes flicking upwards in the direction of the alien.
They're here?
The world exploded into light and dust. It was all happening so fast, so sudden. One had to wonder if Roy Munin would ever, in his made up existance, be thankful for that pink haired bimbo following him around. Without so much as thinking twice, her feet shifted in the wake of the explosion. Debris were forced from the orange bursts of flames and smoke, her body nearly vaulted from the cement, but not until she grabbed the older male by the back of his crisp and clean suit. Slender fingers held tight, and she shifted again to jump forward before the plume of disaster could swallow them alive.
“Maybe you were right after all, Mr. Munin,” she murmured as she landed several feet away in a couch, letting go of the man.
“How did you-
“Excuse me, this is the part where I...protect the planet.”
Victoria leapt from the pavement, her hair fluttering about her small figure, the hem of her dress dancing against her thighs. She hadn't expected this, otherwise, she wouldn't have worn a revealing outfit. Needless to say, Roy got one hell of a panty shot in the process.
This is it, I can't believe that guy was right...was his hunch this good? I can't let that alien get away, she let her thoughts race, and her hands and feet gripped statically to the side of the building she had jumped towards. Without looking back, Victoria pushed off of the brick wall and toward the crumbling inferno.
Quick reflexes had the femme fatal bounding from the building and right into the chaos. She ran through fire, singeing her skin, smoke laced through her flowing tresses. From the corner of her eye she caught the rouge bandit turning down the street away from the people, behind the destruction. “Not so fast,” she muttered under her breath. The flare of her aura lit against her body, white, and powerful, separating debris and licking flames from her path.
The hunter gave chase, running like the wind in the sky. Unfortunately for her, she had never been able to fly. She could only run until skidding around the corner that the shadow had slipped around. Blue eyes watched, and stared, as the alien disappeared before her eyes into none other than a pigeon. It's wings graced the air, pumped its little body further into the sky. Never one to give up, Victoria ran into the alley and jumped at the wall. She jumped, pushed off the wall, jumped again, landed, and gave one last leap into the open sky with hands outstretched to grasp that nasty, conniving vermin from the very air to which it had escaped. Her fingertips brushed upon soft plumage, before gravity took hold. The smallest of cries sounded out and the hunter plummeted down with arms flailing.
--
Firetrucks had arrived, their lights flashing, hoses issuing a torrent of water against the wreckage. Citizens crowded, their faces ashen, their murmurs unrelenting while they stood watching. The mayor's office was gone. Anyone who might have been inside...gone. It was a tragedy. Those aliens, they would pay, they would pay dearly. Now the people were upset, and outraged. This would not go without retaliation!
Victoria didn't even look at their faces, or pay attention to their words. She had lived upon the compound for seven years, since a young age. Politics were not her forte, and, the death of a mayor was not on her mind. What was, however, was the thought of aliens that could so easily arrive in such a way, and then change form in the blink of an eye. It reminded her of Olivia...something about the leader of Zone One. Yes...she could change her shape too.
“It's true, it's all true!”
“We have to attack!”
“What do we do now? What can we do?!”
Everyone had something to say, and the girl stopped walking as she rolled one of her shoulders. Her right arm was broken, but, that wasn't anything new. She let her limb remain limp at her side and she stared at the scene. Even this hunter, undercover or not, looked like one of them. Hurt, confused, and covered in soot. Her feet picked up again and she stopped upon seeing Roy Munin surrounded by the press. Now was his moment, she knew. The politician had hardly a scratch on him, if anything, only his hair had suffered in the wake of the explosion.
I should leave...but if this is real, if the aliens are here, invading...
“We fight, that's what we do, we fight for our lives.”
Her eyes lifted from the cement and she gazed toward the press, with their questions and their worries, as if Roy had all the answers.
“That's right,” Victoria spoke. She stepped closer, her left hand fingers tightening, a few of the cameras swerved to take her in. A battered young woman, seemingly useless and weak, the face of hope. The Company would want me to fight, besides, even if this is an elaborate scheme, her eyes darted to Roy as he locked eyes with her in turn, I'd like to stick around and find out just who this guy really is. Her face turned grim, and she held up a tight fist to the cameras. “We fight for our home, we won't let the invaders take Earth, we won't let anyone take Earth. Who's with me?”
That was just what they needed to hear.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Sigfried Hunin - 01-09-2011
It had finally happened. Death was knocking on the doorstep of mankind in the form of some strange creatures wearing yellow. Flames engulfed the structure and the resulting explosion buckled the knees of a nation. Rumors has trickled out from the cracks and seams of the population, rumors that they would be coming here. That Earth was next. That we had all been lead away from the real issue at hand, blinded by the government. Few had believed such rumors.
But now… now what could they say? What would anyone say?
There had been, of course, a video camera on the scene. No, none of the high tech, wide angle million dollar cameras that the news crews owned had been quick enough. Just the grainy, thick interference footage from an outdated cell phone, submitted to a popular internet video site by one “MoonChaser1988” just that very night. It depicted Roy Munin offering the stage to a pink haired woman, yet to be named. There is a shout in the crowd, and the camera flicks up to the top of the Mayor’s office building, a vague out of focus yellow man standing atop it. He shouts, but even if it was in a comprehendible language you wouldn’t be able to understand it. The man jumps from the roof just as the screen flashes white, a wall of grit, soot and dust washing over the crowd. From there, there are several minutes of screams and blackness, the sound of the phone being handled roughly. The calm, clear voice of Roy Munin.
“I told you… I really did.”
It went viral almost immediately. Soon after the several millionth view of the ramshackle photography the news outlets got their hands on the newly born propaganda. They waved it around, they reshoot clips of interviews with Mr. Munin. They claimed they had been telling us this day would come for a long time. Of course they added in cleverly, “unconfirmed sources,” the occasional, “sources say,” and, invariably, “though only time can tell.” It was a thinly veiled attempt at terror. That’s what news does best. Invoke fear in the people to which it sells its product.
Fear is exactly what Roy Munin’s campaign needed. He was truly sad for the tragedy. IT sunk deep into his heart and sliced at him. Oddly enough, what hurt even more was that he was almost happy that it happened. It was the proof that he needed. It was the evidence that everyone claimed he lacked. For here on out, he had a finger to point. He had something to show people and say, ”They are here NOW.” He chose his words carefully when they asked him for a statement.
“We fight, that’s what we do, we fight for our lives.”
He was still stunned over the event. The sounds and syllables tumbled almost letter by letter from his lips. He remembered seeing Victoria saving him, though it was a blur in his mind. Everything had happened so fast. He watched as a wave of destruction rolled out from the site of the explosion. The rally had been just far enough away that there weren’t any casualties, a few incidental injuries from people falling and running and things but nothing from the scene itself. He later learned that the office had also been empty for one reason or another, so nobody died in the attack at all. How lucky.
His life had been stricken by the event. At first he could almost do nothing, from the mere presence of the happening. Like he was shocked that he had be right. Then though, had come a rallying strength. A vigor fueled by rage and hate and patriotism. The force of will that charged him forth through the night as he tended to the people that were injured, as he saw the looks of horror in the people’s eyes. They would later come to say that they had been there, when it all started. For better or for worse.
Now, Roy Munin commanded a voice that led the eyes of the people. He would call forth their attentions and as they turned they saw what he had seen.
“… and furthermore, don’t you all find it a little underwhelming the amount of funding and attention the government has put forth into consolidating and army here on Earth? Isn’t that strange? Why aren’t we seeing the fortifications, the troops, the manpower that we need to defend ourselves? Maybe they have their minds on extraplanetary trade. Maybe they’re worried about what’s going to happen to their money. I don’t know, I’m not an economist but I know that…”
The people were paying attention now. At least a few of them. Others claimed that the entire thing was a hoax. There had been no known vessels that had been planetside sense the launch of the militia coalition forces earlier that day. Later departures had scattered any chances of finding trails that might have disclaimed this, and so it remained a mystery. Later scans of the explosion area revealed traces of radiation and a faint ki signature indicative of an individual capable of causing such damage. No signs had been found of the alien’s supposed ship that had been seen in the video in the recovery effort, and many skeptics claim that this was a machine designed to leave just such traces. There had also been traces of many home products that could indicate the making of a bomb, but those elements could easily have been found in the building itself. In short, the skeptics had little ground to stand on but the very nature of skepticism itself. What little evidence there was had been vague.
The supporters of Roy Munin had a video of an alien blowing up a building before disappearing into the night.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
“Victoria.” Roy’s voice was elated. He was walking down the street, and people had actually began to recognize him. They stopped to greet him and some to shake his hand despite the fact that he was talking on his cell phone. He might have to bring his car down from upstate so he could avoid hounds from here now on. “Yeah, hi! How are you holding up?” He was still a bit leery of Victoria after the event. She had seemed different than she was before. “Hey, they were going to do an interview about the event and I was wondering if you minded coming with me.” She acted strangely after it had happened and then there was the whole thing with her pulling him from the wake of the explosion. She had pulled him so strongly that it had pulled some of the seams in his jacket and knocked the wind out of him when he had landed. It didn’t sit right. “Yeah, well, you saw more of what happened really than I did, and well, we’ve all seen the video. I want to see if I can get another set of eyes on the whole thing. See if we can clear it up for the media.” He stopped on the corner of the street, looking both ways to cross. “Hey listen, yeah I know about your work but this is really important. We could be changing history here.” Making a quick dash on the cross walk and waving to a driver he caught his breath. “Ok, great. I’ll see you tomorrow. Give me a call later.” He couldn’t help but smile, even though he was on the phone. It was just a habit drilled into his skull by the thousands of times he had shown his pearly whites to everyone he had spoken to. He closed the phone and looked out over the day he had made for himself. This path he had forged through tides of uncertainty.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
“Victoria.” Sigfried was pacing about the basement like a fiend and threatened to wear tiny holes in the carpet where his feet had landed over and over again. He was calling from a blocked line, hoping that she wasn’t magic in addition to being some kind of terrible super-woman. “You know, I saw you at the rally. I don’t think you are who you say you are.” He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the wall as he spoke as calmly as he could. “I don’t know many people who can run that fast, jump that high… I don’t know many people who would ignore a broken arm.” He had fears that she was a spy. He had hopes she legitimately wanted to help. “Listen, Roy doesn’t know yet.” He was scared that she truly cared about Roy now. “If you’re here to help, I’ll know. If you’re here to fuck with us, trust me. I’ll know.” He closed the phone and let out a long breath. It was a habit he had picked up from all the years of exasperation he had to endure from the sights and sounds of a weary world. He looked through the dungeon he had made. This hideout from reality.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Victoria - 01-10-2011
The phone settled against her ear, a veil of hair draped down from her bowed head, against her folded legs as she sat upon the bed. “Yes, I'm fine,” she murmured into the device. Her faceted eyes glinted as her gaze roved toward the window, sunlight gleamed through the balcony and brightened the room. Her gaze fell again, and she ran her fingertip up and down the bare skin of her ankle slowly. “An interview? Mr. Munin...” she trailed off as he replied before she could say another word. Victoria had watched the explosion of media taking place after the events. It had been three days ago, and that video went viral. It was with a thankful breath that she had finally let out when she finished watching it. They had not caught her on the footage.
“My work-
He cut her off again. If anything, this man sure had a mouth on him. Roy knew what to say, how to say it, and just when to say it. The hunter couldn't get a word in edgewise, and it caused her lips to quirk into a small smile.
“Okay, okay, I'll come with you!” she giggled very softly. Perhaps he was right, this was history in the making. For all that had happened, all that she had seen, Victoria felt herself believing in all of this madness.
--
“Yes, I saw the footage,” the accented voice filtered through her phone. Victoria stood in the entrance of her balcony, staring out. She watched with parted lips whilst clouds, with their magenta colored underbellies, floated nonchalantly before the globe of the star. Dusk settled with golden hues painted upon orange, mauve, and navy blue. Flicking her eyes up a fraction, the youth watched the first sign of stars, and listened to her superior on the other end of the phone.
“There's a lot of evidence, but something bothers me,” she replied carefully. The girl wrapped her free arm against her torso, just under her breasts. Her cotton cut off shirt fit to her body, catching the hues of the sun against the white fabric. A cool breeze grazed against her thighs where her black shorts did not reach.
“What is it? You need to tell me everything.”
“My report details everything, to the very point. What bothers me is that the alien...it turned into a bird. I'm wondering if this means that these invaders can shapechange...if so, that could be dangerous. They could be anyone. Also, for me, it feels like quite the coincidence that they would attack at that critical moment. Our rally had gotten people hyped up, but, really...there, while we were in front of the mayor's office, at that moment...”
“We have agents looking into it. What about Roy Munin? Do you think we should bring him in? It's been over a week, I don't want you out there longer than needed. If this really is an invasion-”
“Jeremy, you and I both know that I should be here. Roy doesn't seem to know more than he's showing, if this is an elaborate plot enacted by rebels, he's not one of them,” she replied firmly, despite the nails that bit into the material of her shirt. She pressed the phone close to her ear and bowed her head. “My staying here is good for both results. If the invaders come, then I'll help to defend the city, and find out what I can on them. If they don't, then it's better I stick close to Roy and his followers. There's something...off about this, and I'm not coming back until I know.”
“Just keep me posted...” Jeremy replied after a moment of silence. “Don't do anything foolish out there.”
Like what, have fun? she almost said, but, bit her lip instead. The phone clicked and she lowered her hand, closing the device and turning from the city, she had a big day tomorrow.
--
Aside from being in the background of the few photos taken of Roy during their first meetings, Victoria had never been in the media. She almost wanted to slap away the girl that hovered around her, putting makeup on her face, styling her ridiculously long hair. She tweeted on about the invaders, and the threat, and the thought of war. The hunter stared past the woman, at her reflection, her lips barely even twitching.
It was with great relief that she hopped off the chair upon hearing that crisp, clear voice, of Roy Munin in the background. They were backstage on the set for the interview, which would of course, be on all the televisions. She wasn't sure what channel, or even the name, perhaps some news station. Victoria had never watched television before...let alone been on one.
“Victoria!”
She stepped away from the makeup chair and clasped her hands before her, gazing almost timidly around before looking at the older man. “Are you sure about this, I mean, I didn't see that much...”
“Don't be ridiculous, you were there, and that's all that matters. We need to reaffirm the truth, and with you there, I know they'll see that this is not a joke,” he replied, and with his clean slender hands, he grasped hers between the palms.
Victoria looked right into his gleaming blue eyes, and she remembered the conversation she had held with an unknown man just this morning. The voice had not been familiar...but she had her suspicions. Not of Roy, however, because it was quite obvious now that her blush was not exactly forced. “Y-yes, you're right, we need to convince them.”
It had been all too real, even if that bird had been a bird, something had happened. Space invaders that could change their shape...it was a scary thought. Perhaps the hunter was innocent, and easily fooled, or perhaps it was within that moment as she gazed at this man, that she just didn't care to think about it. Roy had all the answers, he did, and she couldn't find evidence to refute him.
--
“Yes, I was there,” she nodded slowly.
Bright lights were hot upon her skin, the makeup uncomfortable on her face. She nervously picked at the hem of her white dress, with its lacy edge. The material hung just over the edge of her knees, which were neatly set one over the other. Her long hair was pushed back behind her ears and flowing like a river of cherry blossoms down her backside. With wide blue eyes, she looked to Mr. Munin, and then to the interviewer.
It was a big couch, with a fake backdrop like some living room meeting. The woman sat upon the edge of her seat, eager, as everyone should have been. Victoria licked her lips nervously and took a shaky breath. It was the cameras that bothered her. It was the thought that thousands of people, or more, could be watching her every move. She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it. Many victims of such trauma would have acted the same...but she wasn't traumatized. She had been sliced, nearly killed, tortured and impaled over the last year. This was the most unusual experience of her life...
Eyes quickly darted to Roy, sitting very close to her, on the couch. Like the compassionate politician, he grasped her fidgeting hand, a small comforting smile against his lips, as if to say, 'You can do it.'
“The alien was like nothing I had ever seen,” she began, her attention shifting to the interviewer. “It had come out of nowhere...What was it that I read,” she paused. “That we aren't sure how they could have done it. How could the invaders come in so quickly, so silently, and cause such havoc? They must possess technology unlike any we've seen. This makes sense...they're going after the other planets too.” Her head shook slowly, but she let Roy keep her hand, the other one motioned slightly in a small circle. “I...I chased after the alien, and he changed, he became a bird. I don't know how, but he did, and then he was gone. Perhaps they're supernatural, or their ship is powerful enough to change their form...We know nothing about the invaders, and that's what's frightening. We should be on guard because we know nothing, until we know something, isn't it safe to prepare than to be caught without precautions? Think about it...if they're after Namek, Mercy...what's next? They'll come for us too, if they haven't already.”
“Very true,” the interviewer replied, her face grim. “You chased the alien? Why would you do that, Victoria?”
The camera zoomed in, and she blushed softly. “I...well, I want to protect my home too. Wouldn't you? I was told to fight in the face of danger by my...father. I won't let aliens take away our planet. We should be defending the planet, not sit around trying to decide who would do this, and whether it's a real threat. There was an attack, there was a visible enemy, first we prepare and then we investigate. That's the least we could do...” Her gaze lowered to her lap and she chewed upon her bottom lip.
“A brave citizen of Earth, we could all learn from Victoria.” The interviewer leaned back slightly, and looked to Roy. “Not only do we have the attack, the video, but now a bystander to backup the evidence. It looks like Earth might have to listen more closely to what you have to say, Roy Munin, we might have been wrong all along.”
--
The small cup was grasped in her hands. All in all, it had gone well. Most of what Roy had said went through her. Victoria had a tendency to zone out during moments such as this, anxious, unsure. Is it aliens? That phone call...was it one of these guys connected to Roy? They have me pinned...does Roy suspect too?
“Hey,” his voice cut her thoughts off. “You did good.”
“Roy,” she glanced up at him, her grip tight on the styrofoam cup. “About the rally, what I did, it...I just didn't want you to get hurt.” She looked down again, taking in their feet, their shoes. “I told you that I was pretty strong, I just didn't think you'd have to see that. I hope you're not mad at me, I still want to help, I mean that.”
Once again, her wintry eyes lifted to gaze up at him. She was here to help. Victoria didn't know everything, and, she didn't know if she wanted to. What she wanted was to be useful again. The Company owned her life, her skills, every part of her. For once, she just wanted to make her own choice. That choice, as she stared at Roy, was to believe whatever this man said.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Sigfried Hunin - 01-10-2011
Sigfried, Skoll and Hati all sat and stared onto the screen, none had spoken a word. Roy and his newest pet interest, Victoria, had been invited to a popular local talk show. Prime time. Sigfried tugged at the edges of his jacket nervously as he watched the pair go through the motions. He never was much one for politics, and honestly didn’t know how well it was really going. Sure, he could judge the reaction of somebody or spout a good lie when they were sitting right there but his ideals of communications seemed a bit blunt for the public eye. He wasn’t a very popular kid in high school, either.
“You chased the alien? Why would you do that, Victoria?” The interviewer was pressing a line of questioning that concerned Sigfried. He didn’t know exactly why he was afraid that the public would learn of her strength, but it troubled him none the less. It just didn’t seem like something that the people would be happy with for some reason. Any reason to revolt, it would seem.
“I...well, I want to protect my home too. Wouldn't you? I was told to fight in the face of danger by my...father. I won't let aliens take away our planet. We should be defending the planet, not sit around trying to decide who would do this, and whether it's a real threat. There was an attack, there was a visible enemy, first we prepare and then we investigate. That's the least we could do...” What a perfect little tidbit of political logic. It didn’t make a lick of sense when you looked at it like a philosopher. A philosopher would pick and haw at every little fallacy and loophole in her argument. But that’s why philosophers make crap politicians. People don’t want to see lies. They are far more content to wade in the false reality that has been constructed for them.
“Well, isn’t that just dandy?” Hati asked drolly. Skoll shrugged in agreement as he took a long sip from his tea. He looked over to Sigfried and gestured towards him. “Not terrible, right?”
“Yeah, it went alright.” He grasped the armrests of the thick, devouring recliner before hefting himself up. He paced around the room for a moment, and considered having a cigarette. It was so stressful for him for some reason. He shouldn’t have to be stressed out about these kinds of things. That is what Roy was around for. Do all that stressing for him. He knew that it wasn’t the interview that worried him. It was Victoria. What the fuck was she? Not just a pretty face, that’s for sure.
Skoll looked over to Sigfried and lowered his glasses sternly. “No. Don’t even think about it.”
“What.” Sigfried stated flatly. It wasn’t a question, rather it was a declaration of defiance.
“You are not going to go and fight her. There’s absolutely no point in that at all. Revealing herself to you won’t help the campaign, it won’t help our mission, and it’ll probably end up getting you hurt.”
Sigfried popped his hood up and stepped towards the door. “Eh. We’ll see.”
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
“Hey,” Roy looked over to the young woman kindly. “You did good.” He had a rare sense of sincerity in his voice. The sound of it turned Sigfried’s stomach over as he stared upon the two from a curtain backstage.
She seemed nervous, tense for some reason. He couldn’t imagine why. “Roy,” she called after him. The layers of coy flirtation had peeled away from her façade as well. “About the rally, what I did, it...I just didn't want you to get hurt.” Sigfried’s mind shifted slightly. That was real compassion, real concern. For the first time since he had begun watching the woman he felt like he was seeing a bit of her that was real.
The two stood there aside one another for a long moment and she finally allowed her eyes up to meet his. Roy stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling himself in further. He moved in upon her as though he might give her one of those corny movie kisses, the kind with the drum roll and a wind section. God, it made Sigfried sick. It made him angry. As his face grew ever closer to hers he simply rested his chin on her head gently, letting out a long breath. A characteristic he had picked up from Sigfried. Sig knew that sigh… that man’s heart was breaking.
“I’ve got to go do some… work.” Roy said. He blinked his eyes a few times and looked around as though he was trying to shield his face from her. Awww… Sigfried’s thoughts were too sadistic to not be sarcastic. Looks like Roy boy lost his cool. Victoria went to say something but as her lips parted, two stage attendants emerged from the curtain.
“Mr. Munin?” one called as the other raced to Victoria. “We have some final fine print for you to handle really quick. S’ouldn’t take but a few minutes.” He stood between the man and woman and guided him towards an area near the entrance.
“Ok, sure.” He replied to the busy little “gofer”. He nodded to the rose headed female and began to walk away. “I’ll catch up with you once I’m done with this, ok?”
She could do nothing but nod as her own attendant led her towards a dressing room. “You can just rest in here while he’s away. Maybe help you with some of that make up?” She smiled sweetly, but he could tell her mind was somewhere else. He sat her down in one of the Hollywood mirrors and flicked the lights on. “You looked good out there tonight. I can see why he keeps you around.”
“Mhm.” Her voice was dull. She obviously had no plans on divulging any of her secrets to the careful stage hand. She fussed with some of the things on the desk, more than likely trying to figure some way to get the makeup off of her face.
“Oh, ma’am, use this bottle here.” The young man was a little embarrassed that he knew what kind of solution to use for her makeup. You learn weird shit on the internet. “And uh, a cotton ball I guess. Not really my area of expertise.”
Victoria’s eyes suddenly dashed to the boy in the mirror, as though a realization had just washed over her. “What is your area of expertise?” She gripped the handle of the brush at her side firmly, and the aide could hear the crackle of her knuckles.
He began to wheel one of the clothing racks around the room, nervously placing the costumes between her and him. “You know, this and that. I really s’ouldn’t be-“
“Shoggoroth.” She stated plainly as her eyes stuck to his reflection.
The two sat there for a long moment, a silence permeating the room.
In a flash of violence, the attendant snatched the ailing from the rack and changed forward a few steps before bringing it down onto her several times. Each strike let out a metallic scream as the steel bent around her lifted forearm block. Lifting it a final time, Victoria tipped her seat backwards and throttled her high heeled foot into his gut.
He soared back and crashed into the far wall, accompanied by a trickle of plaster from the ceiling. As he slumped to the ground, he coughed and sputtered. For an instant, he was red before his façade faded to that of a yellow assassin. Bounding to his feet he dropped into a fighting stance and stared her down.
“This was a nice dress, too…” her voice was soft and sad, legitimately disappointed with the situation. Rolling up to her feet she ripped away the restrictive fabric and spread her newly freed legs, readying for an attack.
The yellow creature blabbed out some gibberish of an insult before sprawling forwards like a devil. It was nothing more than a forceful roundhouse which the highly trained hunter blocked and sent him sprawling once again. She dashed over to the creature too fast for him to react, collecting him up in her grasp and pounding his jaw once again. “Where are your forces!?” she screamed in fury.
A blackness welled up within the creature’s eyes, and for a moment Victoria was reminded of a fight a long… long time ago. His body seemed to spread around her until finally she found herself in the grips of a Kraken. His limbs stuffed the room full and cracked the seams of the building. Several tentacles were lashed around the woman, vicious hooks sinking into her flesh as it trashed about. Soon the door burst open, and with it the two combatants spilled into the prestage arena.
A chorus of shouts and screams echoed as the massive creature constricted its prey. Her lovely dress now shredded, she sneered and screamed out, blasting the monster off of her by sheer force of strength. “Get your…” she paused as she thought of the word, but anger clouded her mind. “Hands off of me!” The ridiculous statement didn’t seem to bother the sea creature as it whipped a limb across her and sent her crashing into the hard wood floor.
Sigfried was angry now. It wasn’t about the plan or the mission or anything else. He just wanted to whoop that bitch’s ass. A gorilla leapt into the air and brought it’s fists down upon her back, causing her to howl in pain as several thousand pounds per square inch of pressure was suddenly introduced to her most important bodily structure. Other than her ass.
Gripping her by the hair it flung her oddly weighy frame through the curtains and in front of the TV host with a scream of primal rage. He opted to show himself as an alien for the cameras, a spiteful afterthought of his insane rampage.
He sprinted out to meet the woman, but she had been ready for him. A massive sofa was already flying at his head, way too fast to catch or avoid. It slammed into him and sent him soaring backstage with a thunderous crash. He was pretty sure it had broken several something’s in him. He attempted to move the thing off of his body, but his limbs were either weakened or broken.
His efforts were answered as it was liberated from him by the pink haired amazon and lifted over her head. It didn’t really stay there, though. She slammed it down on him again and a again, the sickening sounds of shattering bones ringing in the air. He decided it was time to play dead now. Past time. Seriously. Stop hitting me with a couch. A final triumphant heft and grunt from her left the furniture sticking vertically out of the wooden floors, a couple of yellow clad limbs protruding out awkwardly from beneath.
The thought of Roy and the other attendant suddenly flooded her mind, and unknowable as her thoughts were, she raced to aid him, leaving her downed opponent to die under the weight of cushy softness and several reinforced steel bands and wood fixtures. Many of which had been shattered by the force of her attacks. It was probably a pretty safe call.
She rounded the corner and slammed through an opaque door only to find Roy standing victoriously over his opponent, a torn jacket shoulder and a few shiners the only show of the battle. “Are you ok?!” His voice was bedraggled, but confident.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Sigfried staggered in through the door of the basement, clutching his ribs and gut. A part of his face sagged strangely and large tufts of hair were missing. He looked over to Skoll with knowing eyes.
“Do NOT fuck with Victoria…”
He then proceeded to vomit dark, grainy chunks of blood and bile into the nearby sink.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Chubbs Story Account - 01-11-2011
Events continue, the world keeps spinning.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Jarka - 01-12-2011
The door clicked in place behind Jarka. It was likely to be the last time she ever exited Jimmy’s Fine Eats Restaurant. A ragged sigh escaped her lips as she rested her back against the door before sliding to the ground. What do I do now? I had finally found a purpose. A goal. A mission. A half hour passed while she sobbed in that position, clutching her parcel to her chest. It was at this point that she noticed two pairs of feet planted firmly next to her.
Black suede loafers next to sassy black pumps. The loafers belonged to a man in a flashy business suit with a power red button up shirt and patterned tie. The pumps resided on a surprisingly bedraggled looking woman with cascading pink hair. Both looked strangely familiar.
Jarka squinted her bloodshot eyes before the realization emerged in her bleary consciousness. “You’re that guy! From the news! And you-” She pointed at the woman.
“You’re his date from the other night!” The woman blushed, nearly blending into the locks framing her face. “Well, sir, you date too young, but at least you stick with them.”
The man laughed heartily, toeing the fine line between natural and trying too hard. “Well, this place charmed us. Do you mind if we dine in again, Miss...”
“Veselyova. Easier if you just call me Jarka. And, I wouldn’t mind, but we’re closed now.”
The woman looked concerned. “Closed? So suddenly?”
“The boss is joining the military. We’re a small place, so that’s pretty much it for staff.”
The man shook his head. “It really is a shame. You had some excellent pancakes. It was lovely meeting you, Jarka. We’ll be on our way.”
As the couple’s footsteps began to fade away, Jarka leapt to her feet. “Hey, guys! Wait up!”
Turning to face her, the man raised an eyebrow at his companion before letting forth a silky, “Can I help you?”
“Listen. As of thirty minutes ago, I’m twenty-something, unemployed, and living with my parents. I can’t fight. I mean, I know some basic self-defense, that’s it. But I can cook. I can cook damn well. If you get me a roof over my head, I would love to offer my services to Earth’s Combined Militia.”
The woman slid her hand into the crook of the man’s elbow. “I am pretty hungry, and it feels like, well, forever since I’ve had a home cooked meal.” Her sugary pout was even enough to make Jarka weak at the knees.
The man extended his hand. “Roy Munin. This is my assistant, Victoria. As for that roof over your head, well, if you don’t mind my associates, then I would be proud to offer you a room in our place.” His current smile was the first genuine expression Jarka had seen him make.
After a moment of hesitation, Jarka returned the handshake. “Sure, why not. How bad could they be?”
[M][Earth] Of the People - Sigfried Hunin - 01-12-2011
“I’m going to kill you in three seconds, Hati.”
Skoll stood across from Hati, Sigfried planted firmly in the middle with arms stretched out in either direction staunchly. Hati held something looking like a small black box in his hand and waved it about tauntingly.
“What’re you gonna do? Taze me?” He cackled as he pranced around his barrier of man. Skoll jostled about momentarily trying to get past Sigfried, cursing heavily. “Three!” He shouted at the pitch of his lungs. He faked left before ducking right past the impromptu referee. “Two!” He sprinted across the tiny basement towards Hati, extending his arms. “THREE!” he speared the you,g short haired man into the adjacent wall and drug him to the ground.
Laughing insanely, Hati sparked the weapon in the air wildly as he struggled to right himself. He pounded his fist into Skoll’s back a few times as he trashed after his arm.
“You’re going to damage the battery!” he accused.
Sigfried stood across the room with one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead. They were prone to fighting like this if everyone was cooped up together too long. It had been a few days for the two and neither had gone out in a good long while. It was bound to have happened, the two were so diametrically different. Hati, admittedly was the prankster and Skoll the easily angered one. One wanted to be social and outgoing, the other just to be left the Hell alone. Sigfried was lucky he had a no booze in the basement policy, or things would be really ugly.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” He said dryly, barely making the effort to break them up. “C’mon now.” He leaned over and grabbed a half-finished coffee drink and sipped from its long green straw. “Knock it off.” He wandered towards the comfortable couch and grabbed the remote, flipping on the television lazily. “Oh, jeeze, wow dude. Really knock it off.” The sound of a cracking whip occasionally sounded from the tazer as the two continued to struggle mindlessly in the corner. Sigfried found a pizza crust in the couch.
“Yo, Hati.” Sigfried called over his shoulder.
“Hrrnnghh…”Random grunting noises were heard as he made the required moves to gain dominance and answer the beckons. Hati’s head popped up from the brawl for a moment. “Whaaat?” he nagged.
“Dude weren;t you like, making some egg something?”
He thought for a moment as he jammed his palm down into Skoll’s face. “Yeah I think so.”
“No! No, I was making some cookies.” Skoll’s voice was gruff but calm as always.
“Oh.” Sigfried tore a piece of the stale bread off in his mouth. “Well it’s on fire.”
The duo quickly looked up in panic as they saw columns of smoke arise from the shoddy electric oven, slowly filling the room with blackness.
As the two began to untangle to race to their collection culinary abortion, the door jangled and rattled with the sounds of scratching keys. Soon after the lock disengaged and the knob twisted and the portal flung itself open.
“… and they all just generally hang out here while I’m out to look after thin-“
Roy, Victoria and some new woman stood in the doorway, staring in at the debacle. Sigfried quickly pulled the crust from his mouth and sprang to his feet, opening his arms wide. “Heyyyyyy! Roy!” He tried his best at acting out a grin, but unfortunately Roy had gotten all the acting skills of the group. “So, uh, how was dinner?”
“They were closed.” Roy’s voice was tense. It cusped on being angry, and that sense of confrontation rang in Sigfried’s ears. He didn’t like it. “The owner did his duty and deployed to the off-world fight. His chef,” he gestured to Jarka curtly and nodded, “Jarka here, needs a place to stay. I said she could stay here until we can find her somewhere else.”
Hati and Skoll got up and lurked towards the flaming stove as Sigfried attempted to distract the new company. “So, uh, you cooking?” the new woman timidly asked.
Clearing his throat, Sigfried glanced back at the two. “Yeah. They were trying. Seems like that old crappy oven fritzed out on them.” He scratched the back of his head abashedly.
“Or Hati puts his eggs on my cookies and forgot to set a timer…” Skoll growled under his breath. Everyone heard him.
Roy clapped his hands together. “Ah. Well.” He looked around the disheveled room and to the three. “What happened to cleaning today guys?”
Sigfried looked over to Hati with a spiteful glare. “I was out. It was Hati’s job today.”
“Dude. The game was on.” His voice was defensive, as though his reasoning was perfectly sound and reasonable. Sigfried simply stared at him and blinked slowly a few times in response.
Roy pinched the space just above his nose and shook his head slowly. “This is ridiculous.” He stpped forward and thrust a finger at Hati. “God if I were you I would get my act together. You’d better be thankful to Sigifred tha-“
“Psshht, if you were me…” Hati spat quietly.
Roy quirked his brow and stepped forward, seriously angered now. “What was that? What did you say to me?”
Sigfried stood into the center of the room and used an oddly commanding voice. “Skoll, Hati, clean this fucking apartment.” He pointed to Roy and sternly indicated his quarters. “Dude, take your date and go chill the fuck out.”
Smiling he walked towards Jarka nad lay his hand on her arm. “Hey, listen, sorry. We’re not usually like this. It’s been a rough few days. A lot of stress with the campaign and all that. We’re just finally starting to gain momentum and… well, it’s hard.” He gave a warm, genuine smile and began to lead her towards the rear of the basement. “You can take my old place, I’ll sleep in Roy’s place.” Roy glanced over to Sigfried petulantly, motioning towards Victoria. Sigfried smirked and slowly shook his head in denial.
Victoria’s brow furrowed seeing the scraggly looking twenty-something year old command around the seasoned politician. It was strange, by any standards. It was easy enough to recall that Sigfried was supposed to be the man’s assistant, not the other way around. He did have a strange authority to his tone though. As though he knew exactly what each was thinking and knew just what to say.
She cast the strange boy one last glance before he lead the new companion to her room and Roy closed the door after them.
“This is bullshit.” Hati moaned additionally as he fanned the wall of burned air towards the open door.
Skoll spitefully scrubbed a dish and shook his head. “We could be out right now.”
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Sigfried extended his palm to Jarka and took her hand up firmly. After a strong shake he released it and nodded to her. “I’m Sigfried. I think I’ve eaten at your restaurant before. Good… um… I think it was pancakes?” He scratched at the back of his dome as he did when thinking. “In any case, I’m glad to have you with us. Roy says you’re a cook?”
She smiled and nodded politely. “Yup! I work in the place Mr. Munin was going.” She shrugged now with a long huff. “I guess not anymore.”
Sigfried leaned against his old desk and nodded to her. “Yeah, I’m sorry to hear it’s going down. I mean, I’m glad we can give you a place and all, but do you have any plans?”
She brushed a long strand of hair from her eye and looked over to him. “I was going to see if the ECM could use a cook.”
He smirked and looked the woman over a few times. “Ah, something tells me that you can do a little more than cook. Call it… a premonition.” He grinned coyly at his own joke and nodded once again. “So, other than that thing with work, are you ok? Look like you’ve had a long day.”
She glanced about at her feet. She seemed more nervous than she should have been, which only sting into Sigfried’s flank like a poison needle. More secrets, he whined to himself. “No,” she replied as she looked up. How did he know she would say that? “Just an emotional day is all. The owner’s boy, from the restaurant? His boy was an intern at the Office. He died because of the attack.”
The words sank into Sigfried’s heart like a thousand nails wood. He hadn’t thought there was anyone inside the building when it went down. Yet another horror to creep about the recesses of his mind.
She looked up to him as he tugged at his hoodie somberly. “And I mean… I just don’t have anything right now. Nothing to shoot for. That job was my chance, you know? My chance to go somewhere. Be somebody.”
Smirking softly the young lad stepped forward and pat her on the shoulder. “So long as you can face the horizon, you’re moving ahead.” The sappy bit of sentimentality had stuck with him from somewhere. He probably learned it in college, where his bullshit lack of motivation knew no bounds. She smiled at the quote but he couldn’t be sure if she gave a damn.
Suddenly the ex-student looked up as though he could smell something in the air, or he remembered something important. “Kai damnit, Roy…”
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Roy sat on the bed, the only room in the dingy basement that seemed to be at all catered to. The walls had been painted and the fixture replaced to make it well lit. It was a very soothing space, on top of the fact that everything in there probably cost what it would have cost to have the remainder of the place furnished properly.
"So, Victoria. I was thinking.” Roy’s voice was calm and clear, but he did not look at his audience.
Victoria glanced over to Roy nervously, digging the soles of her feet into the blue carpet. "What do you mean?”
Roy plucked at his suit momentarily before replying. "Well," he stopped once again to clear his throat. "I think that I've started caring about you. Romantically." After his admission, he nodded matter of factly, as though he were at a debate, refuting a point. He turned his head and stared at her stalwartly. "Listen, before you start, I know. You are young, I am old. Your work and mine, the public eye. I don't even want to get into it. I doubt that this is really even anything I should bring up, but- I mean, I’m an old man. It’s a silly notion.” He forced his own eyes away. “I thought it would be better to just say it, get it out in the open and work around it from there.”
"You care about me?” She blushes and allowed her eyes to sift over the walls. Her eyes twinkled as though something had been caught in them and they were welling up. "Mr.- I mean, Roy." The nervous habit of chewing on her lower lip exhibited itself again as she wrung her hands as though she had coal between them and was attempting to forge a diamond. "You're not that old, what does it matter? I like you.” She paused and leaned in towards him, her otherworldly power concealed behind thin wrists. "Is it because I'm only twenty?"
Roy took a deep breath before expelling it like a curse. "It's just... the campaign. Everything is muddled. It's hard to think about it." Roy strained to recall the memories of the times he had faced similar difficulties. Tried to bring back the old times. His other dates and his angry father. "I don't think I can remember the last time I had a woman in my life.” His words came from his mouth almost as if they shocked him more than anyone else. “I just don't want things to get out of hand."
"Out of hand?"the cherry haired young woman edged even closer and tilted her head like a lost puppy. "Like how?"
Standing up suddenly Roy began to pace the room quickly. "Like, what about the media? They can't know. What if they find out? What if any number of things happens? It could cripple the war effort. I could be endangering millions of people with this.” The twirling blue in his eyes was cast dark as panic arose within him. "I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. It's already dangerous enough! Kai help us fucking aliens, up close and personal, attacked us just earlier today! I don't know how you've stayed so calm."
Victoria wrinkled her nose in thought a moment before bounding in front of the frantic politician. "Roy, you worry too much, I'm capable of handling myself, believe me.” He stood in front of him firmly before planting her hands on either side of his cheeks. It was an awkward position for the man, like he was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. She leaned in and tugged on his face until he submitted to himself and was drawn into a soft kiss. "I'm in this thing, with or without you, but I like your company all the same, okay?" After her message, she stared into his eyes for a time and he could not help but stare back.
The woman drew her hand over his cheek and through his feathered hair and beamed in that simple joy that came in moments such as this. "You're good at talking, and kissing." Roy was given only a short amount of time to mull over the fructose-sweet statement, the mere bubbliness of it boring a tiny hole in his brain.
The door was knocked once immediately before it flew open and crashed into the wall. “OH! Am I interrupting something?” Sigfried was fuming. Red in the face he looked as though the veins in his brain were about ready to pop. Victoria backed away from Roy quickly like a frightened schoolgirl and blushed wildly. "Damnit Roy." His rage filled eyes were knowing of what this meant. It seethed and boiled with irritation.
Victoria’s eyes darted between the men. "I should go?" She let her eyes stick on Sigfried for a moment, an ancient sense of familiarity seeping into her mind.
Sigfried huffed once and shook his head in disappointment. “Kai curse ye, Roy…”
Victoria frowned with pouty lips. "Why is he so angry?" A tone of irritation flooded her voice. "For an assistant he's really moody towards you."
Trading stares between the door and his new attention, he spoke with a voice made of lead. "Yeah, you're right. He's never been this way before." He stormed about a moment before grabbing a small bag up off of the desk. "Do you- you want to go back to your house? It would probably be less... um... interrupted?" He still spoke with a steely grit to him, his fists clenching and unclenching.
"Interrupted?" She fixed her gaze on him with the naivety of a child. "Me and you? I- well, I actually…” She hesitated as though debating whether or not to divulge her secret. "I live in a hotel."
"Oh... a hotel? Why didn't you say something? We could have set you up with, well, something!" As shocked as he was he couldn’t think of any other rooms he had tucked away. He scratched the back of his head and shrugged. "Oh well... Well, do you want to go there now? I mean, I've just about had it with these people right now. I need to get out of here."
She smiled sweetly with an excitement seldom seen outside of seven year olds at a candy shop. "You want to hang out with just me?" Practically bouncing off the walls she was giddy and the sentiment radiated out of her forcefully. "Alright, but there's only one bed."
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Sigfried stalked over to the stove and called into his old room. “Hey, Jarka!” He looked over the paltry ingredients in the fridge. “How bout you start out by helping me with dinner, huh?”
Roy’s room door creaked open and the two lovebirds stalked out of it quickly. Roy sterly intoned, “Victoria and I are staying at her hotel tonight.”
Sigfried stared at the two for a moment blank faced. “What? Hey! Nooo no no no no no…” He began to chase after the two with a look of true terror upon his countenance. “You can’t-”
Roy twisted the lock of the main doorway and flung it open. “Not open for debate.” He slammed the thing closed with a crash, leaving Sigfried standing in wonder and horror what the night may bring.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Victoria - 01-12-2011
It was strange, the way these people were. These people being, of course, the Earth Militia. Victoria had thought that a force against the aliens would be prestigious. She had thought that, of all the people on the planet, the creators of a group most eager to defend it would at least be civil and proper. They were anything but. Her view of the world within that room was that of an innocent bystander in a war. It took less than four seconds to recall the names, Hati, and Skoll. They were at each other like schoolboys in the park. Worst of all was Sigfried. The man couldn't have been a cut above her own age, he was hardly a man as it was. If it wasn't his ridiculous red sweater, it was his attitude. The hunter couldn't tell whether the rebel wanted to shove her out of the proverbial box, or punch Roy Munin in the face for simply existing.
“I'll need a moment, if that's alright,” she murmured modestly as their figures entered the hotel lobby. It was one of the most prominent buildings in Central City. One had to wonder how the youth could afford it. She glanced up at Roy for a moment and then toward the lounge where people were bound to drink and relax. “I just need to tidy the room, you know how girls are,” she gave a short giggle, “panties on the floor and makeup on the desk. I'll come and get you.”
Victoria didn't give Roy a chance to reply before she was bounding off toward the elevator. She hadn't planned for this, and already her fingers were reaching up in a telltale sign of stress to grip at pink strands between fingers. It was a habit she had picked up from Jeremy, speaking of...She sighed and entered her room. This was something Mr. Munin could not find out. The Comapny was secret, except through it's channels and contacts. This mission was important to the success of the Company. It had been drilled into her, every message repeated that mantra. Important. Important.
Her laptop was shut and packed away quickly, hidden within the small closet where towels were readily available. Next she moved to her suitcase and withdrew a small case within. Her thumbs pressed the locks and it snapped open, showing the glistening vials within. Fingertips grazed the glass containing the deep black, nearly red, contents therein. Another quick flick of her wrist had it closed and she took the case, stashing it within the tank of the toilet. It would be watertight.
All other evidence was taken care of, until her room was no longer scattered with detailed papers and bounty-hunting trails. She smoothed a hand down the front of her dress, plucked a stray hair behind one ear, and left the room to retrieve Roy.
Why is my heart pounding?
“This is my room,” she murmured, opening the door for him. “I've been here just a few weeks.” Crystalline eyes flitted up to the man. He stepped within the room, allowing her to close the door. The plan hadn't been to get close, not this close. The plan had been to get in, find out what was going on, and leave. She had to ask herself, what the hell was she doing? Jeremy would kill her, no, he'd kill Roy. He's pin him to the wall like Richard and cut him like a fresh fish from the market. It had Victoria's hands wringing together and her feet carrying her through the room.
“Thanks, for this,” he motioned a little and set his travel bag on the small desk where her laptop had just been. “I can't stand them sometimes.” He let out a small sigh.
“Why do you, I mean, you don't seem like you...belong there,” she asked and sat down upon the edge of the bed.
“It's hard to explain, when you do these things, you take all the help that you can get.”
It was night now, the balcony drapes were open to give a view of the city nestled around the tall structure. Lights flared from the street, cars sped to and fro. Roy walked over to the glass and pulled the door ajar. The crisp smell of grass and rain trickled in from the smallest of breezes, which teased the tie draped down his front. The man looked tired, as if he could fall apart, but she knew he was stronger than that. Physical strength was nothing compared to the mind...she knew that well. Their day had been stressful, and her new friend had no idea just what had happened outside of those frosted glass doors. The alien had put up a fight, but really, not one that she had been worried about. Information first...but he wouldn't talk, he couldn't. After the scuffle she and Roy had changed, and met up for dinner...and the ordeal had done anything but make them distant.
A date, the girl thought I was his date. I've...never really been on a date. Jeremy took me to a few places but, that was to talk business during our missions. Joal never really did that... her mind roiled and she played with a length of hair. It had only been a week and now she found herself at the brink of something...something that she didn't know, didn't know if she wanted to know.
“If you're hungry we could always order in?” she smiled softly and she watched Roy staring out of the window. Raindrops dripped down from the weary sky, pelting the glass and streaking it with jewels. For once she wished she could read someone's mind.
--
“It just seems like you do all of the work.”
Long hair cascaded down like a pink waterfall against her back, a little over her shoulder. A tray with their respective meals between them, nearly eaten. Victoria's legs were crossed at the ankles, knees bent, as if she were meditating. Before the meal had arrived she had changed, now wearing shorts and a tank-top, each black and form fitting.
“I probably do, I need them. I just, need them,” a disgruntled sigh was heard and he rolled from lying on his side, to onto his back. It was strange, as if Roy didn't know the whole picture. Victoria didn't either. Her life was a puzzle played by the men who made her, and, she simply went along.
She pushed the tray out of the way and did what she knew best. There was very little about being an adult that she knew. The hunter had lived the last seven years killing, fighting, stealing and surviving. She had gone from believing she could be free, to rebelling in the worst possible way. Mr. Munin thought that he had to protect her from the aliens, but, it was the other way around. The youth found herself growing attached like felt moss on his solid features. Proof of that was evident as her palms settled on the mattress on either side of his head. Bright blue eyes gazed down into the irises of his, staring, holding her breath.
“Everything will work out for the better, Roy, I've seen a lot of things in my twenty years. You think that I'm young, and I am, but age doesn't mean anything to me. I don't want to see the Earth invaded, by aliens, by humans, by anything. I know that I kept some things from you, that I seemed useless and clueless, but I know more than I let on. You need to know that...and I want to tell you everything, but I can't, and I'm sure you can't either,” she took a small breath, silken strands of hair draped down along her shoulders as she knelt aside him, not moving in the slightest. Victoria spoke with firm words, and an unwavering gaze.
It was only a matter of time before Roy found out about the hunter. The fight earlier had broken out before cameras, and she had a feeling that this man would find time soon to see the footage, if it exploded like she knew it would. Victoria wasn't even sure, herself, what the camera's had caught. Jeremy hadn't called her like a maniac, yet, so chances were the studio were baffled and unsure of what to do about it. The footage would display her, pink-haired youth, seemingly useless, completely destroying an alien with raw strength never seen before. Of course, there was always talk of super heroes and powerful fighters but...a lot of people were skeptical these days.
“You know,” he said, breaking her train of thought. “You could be a politician.”
Her pounding heart quickened, her breathing hitched. Roy pushed his palms against her shoulders and Victoria could have crumbled. There were very few people, men, who could bring the girl down to level. Her back pressed against the mattress and the roles reversed. Pink plush lips felt that amazing, shivering feeling of a kiss that could knock the wind right out of her. She should have expected it, but she didn't. The girl had been thinking about the world, about her mission. She had been thinking like a warrior. This was so much better.
The youth let her lips divide, and Roy's head turned just a fraction. Victoria melted into the mattress like a popsicle in the sun. His tongue dipped into the recesses of her warm mouth, dancing with hers, making her hand lift to his shaggy mahogany hair. Plenty of times she had kissed, but this was so...taboo. She shouldn't be doing this, but she wanted to. She really wanted to. A small noise lifted from her throat, and she let her other hand press against the front of his dress shirt. Ivory digits clutched to the fabric of his tie, curled in, pulled him closer.
It wasn't his doing, hardly, he was doing everything right. Victoria couldn't tell him everything. She couldn't tell him, as she had told Joal, about Richard's tongue down her throat as he tried to make her a woman. She couldn't tell Mr. Munin that she had been tortured on an island south of South City. Worst of all, she couldn't tell him, she wouldn't tell him, that she was a designed weapon that was as alien as the creatures invading their home. Victoria wasn't human.
Tears dribbled down from the corners of her eyes, real tears, she couldn't fake it if she tried. “Roy,” she released her hand, and her palm pressed against his firm chest. “I can't.” What, she couldn't do, she wasn't even sure of herself. Not even Joal had confused her this badly.
“We don't have to,” he whispered, their hot breathes mingling together like a storm waiting to happen. Victoria could have crawled away by the sight of his eyes. He stared at the tears that left trails down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with haste.
“It's not you, you're...perfect,” she gripped the front of his shirt and bit her bottom lip, her other hand holding his shoulder tight. She meant that. It had been beaten into her to respect the Suits, they did everything, they were the authority. Perhaps that's why she looked up to this man, perhaps that's why she respected him. There could have been a million things going on in his head, his eyes were unreadable. Victoria had never wanted to understand someones gaze. Usually she shot them before they could explain their side of things.
“You don't have to explain, we can stay like this,” he murmured in reply.
Victoria smiled, a small, feminine small, her gaze soft as she looked up. They had no idea what they were getting into. They really didn't.
One bed was enough, they found out, as she rested her head against his chest. It was nice, a small thing in her big twisted life. His arm folded over her, pressed against the side of his body. Roy had been kind enough to lay in his clothing, although, she poked her index finger between two buttons on his shirt to touch his skin. “How old are you, Roy?” she asked as she stared at her finger.
There was a long pause before she felt him breathing out slowly, and he replied, “I'm in my thirties.”
Victoria smiled lightly and moved her hand. It smoothed down the material of his shirt, his tie had been removed. “Okay,” she whispered and closed her eyes. He really wasn't that old at all. Not really.
--
Two days later, Victoria had received a small gift, if it could be called that. To the hunter, it was a gift, she had never received one in her life. The radio was already set to a station...not that she would have known which station, or how to change it. Perhaps Roy knew that, but the note explained it. He was going on the radio to discuss their actions in regards to the aliens. The footage had been released, and, thankfully she had been cut out of most of it. The attack showed her getting attacked...and then, the defeated alien.
The following morning from the attack, Roy had left, she assumed to patch things up with his so-called assistant. Sleeping in wasn't an option for the hunter. As if on time, Jeremy had rung her cell phone...he wasn't pleased. The Company had saved her ass from being found out. It wasn't that they feared the world knowing about her, but the mission would fall apart. Her superior had no idea just how close she was to ruining it all...
Roy's message told her to listen in, it would be world changing, he hoped.
“We've got Roy Munin on the show today. There's no way we can avoid the events that have taken place over the last week. A message had been sent to the world, and other worlds, about an attack from invaders. Roy had been, most likely, the only man to fight against the call to arms. Roy, what do you have to say now?”
“I was right...no, I'm kidding,” his voice was smooth on the radio, and he chuckled. Victoria laid on her stomach, her calves in the air, ankles crossed. She set her chin against her arms and listened intently.
“During a time of war, we opted to help those who could have helped themselves. The Namekians, the Frostlings, they all would come after our home just like the invaders. We should have stayed here, and protected our homes. We can't blame the people, they're just doing what they think is right. It's the government. Look at all of the disasters that have occurred in the last year on our planet, and look at how they try to cover it up, or deal with it in all the wrong ways. No, the government is to blame for the deaths of the people in the mayor's office, for the damage done to our city, because of their greed.”
“You think that the government should change?”
“Something needs to happen. Our government is more concerned about off-world money, than about the people. We're on defenseless land now, we're surrounded and there's nothing we can do. They sent our armies to worlds that would sooner abandon us than give us a hand. What they should have done was join with Earth’s Combined Militia, and set up defenses on the planet. So far they've been nothing short of pathetic about all of this. This wouldn't have happened if they anticipated that we would be on the hit list as well. This is Earth, what alien wouldn't want to conquer our planet? ”
“You're right about that, it's no telling where they'll strike next. It seems that the aliens have some way of tracking what we do. They don't seem to agree with your words, Roy,” the radio host sounded grim. “They attacked the mayor's office, and then the television station that you had been at. Both times you were there. Is this just a coincidence?”
“It's obvious, isn't it? They're spying on us too. Wouldn't you spy on your enemy? Now they know we've got nothing. They're going to attack any day, now, and we're sitting ducks. The government needs to be told that enough is enough. We won't let this happen. Earth’s Combined Militia will stop the aliens, with or without their help, but who wants to live with a government that won't even protect them? Do you?”
“I have to say you make some good points. I've been wondering what those guys in the office have been thinking. Maybe it is time for change, Roy. We can only be fortunate that someone like you pointed out the dangers of the invaders. Maybe you should run for mayor.”
“Maybe I will.”
--
A knock echoed to fill the room with its noise, firm, the knock of a confident person. The mouth watering smell of food drifted from under the door, and Victoria nearly opened the damn thing herself. Finally, it swung open, only to reveal a disgruntled noise from Sigfried's throat at the sight of her.
“What do you want?”
“I...” she stared at him, and crossed her arms over her blouse. It had been warmer today, and she had chosen to wear a white dress shirt with a pair of white shorts that ended at the middle of her thighs. It had been two days since their little...disagreement, when Roy had walked out. “Did you hear the radio? Sounds like Roy's really getting things moving for our efforts.” She offered a small smile, friendly.
“Yeah, so?” he walked away from the door and further into the dingy apartment. Victoria sighed softly and stepped in. The door was closed behind her, and she glanced at the kitchen. Jarka was moving about cooking, she looked like she was in her element.
“Sigfried, you and I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” she sat down on the sofa. A frown showed on her face, and she leaned forward to grab a bottle she had sat upon. She gently set it down on the coffee table and glanced at the male. “There's a war out there, we shouldn't be fighting. What did I do wrong?”
He stared at her blankly, and Victoria found herself...intimidated. There was an air about him. Not only had he seemingly controlled his roommates, and Roy, with his words, but he had eyes that seemed to bore into her. “Roy isn't here,” he turned around and headed for the kitchen.
Victoria pressed her fingertips to her brow and sighed again. “Fine, I'll leave,” she stood up, nearly tripped over a pizza box on the floor, and marched toward the door. “But let me tell you something,” she turned to face the kitchen. “If you want help, you should ask for it, instead of treating me like one of the invaders.” With that she pulled the door open and left the apartment. Stupid jerk...
[M][Earth] Of the People - Jarka - 01-13-2011
Jarka eyed the dank walls of her new bedroom. It didn’t smell as musty as she had expected, but that’s not to say it held a pleasant odor. At least I’m on my own. Turning her attention to the bed, she sprawled across the black comforter and propped her chest on the pillow. Finally, the moment when she could finally examine her parcel had arrived.
Her fingers flew over the scattered contents as she attempted to organize them. Dozens of pamphlets of every imaginable color of cardstock formed a flurried rainbow on the dark blanket backdrop. Two books, bound in hardcover, were stacked near the edge of the bed. A variety of promotional items – pens, notepads, a coffee mug – lauded the name of her kischiatrist. Best keep these somewhat hidden. Still useful, though. Nevertheless, the objects were quite predictable, save for two: a chain necklace with a crystal pendant and a flimsy metal spoon.
With a slight shrug, the girl affixed the necklace and examined its faceted sphere. It was a nice enough gift, if a little strange from a doctor. She held the orb by its chain, letting it naturally twirl. The bedside lamp refracted into a thousand dancing glimmers across the spoils of her appointment. As she lost interest in the novelty of the twirling lights and clamped the necklace between her forefingers, the rays came to rest on the embossed lettering of her texts.
Jarka furrowed her brow as she read the title aloud. “So You Think You Can Move Objects With Your Mind, and…” Retrieving the second book, a bemused smirk flashed on her face. “Prophecy and You: A Beginner’s Guide to Foresight. Great.” The girl gingerly flipped through a few pages, allowing the paper to fan along her thumb.
A voice called from the other room. “Hey, Jarka!” She snapped the book shut. “How ‘bout you start out by helping me with dinner, huh?” The girl bundled her trove back into their satchel and tucked it under the bed. Straitening her skirt, she entered the main quarters of the apartment and quietly shut her bedroom door.
Hati and Skoll sat on the couch, bickering over an issue that sounded irrelevant. Sigfried stood by the stove, fists clenched. Although he was draped in the red sweatshirt, she could tell his body was tense.
“You all right? You seem… pissy.”
The boy exhaled and cracked his neck before responding flatly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“O-kay, well, uh… let’s see what we have to work with.” Crossing over to the refrigerator, the cook opened the door. It wouldn’t have been surprising had moths fluttered out to signal the dire condition of its contents. Empty takeout containers huddled in the corner next to milk that had long since expired. An old telephone handset sat in the vegetable crisper.
Sigfried sat on the counter, an easy task considering his height. “How’s it look?”
“Um… there’s a few salvageable things. I see a few eggs – nope, they’re all cracked. A can of cola. A box of chocolate… cake mix? You keep a box of cake mix in the fridge?”
The boy tossed his head towards the pair on the couch. “Probably Skoll.” As if on cue, the crack of the taser preceded a yelp by Hati.
Jarka turned on her heels to face the sofa. “All right. Hati. Skoll. I have a mission for you.” The two perked up, and Skoll flashed a mock salute. “First order of business: I need paper and a pen.” Hati was quick to provide the supplies. Biting her tongue in concentration, the girl scribbled across the surface of the notepad. “You two. Fetch me the items on this list.”
Hati glanced over her itinerary. “These are all groceries.”
“Exactly.” The girl pointed two fingers at her eyes, then turned her hand so each finger pointed menacingly at the men. Following another mock salute, the pair trumped out the door.
Sigfried cocked his head. “Why do I have the feeling that didn’t have much to do with supplies?”
“Oh, you guys need groceries. It just so happens that I find those two kind of distracting – and not in a good way. Don’t you?”
The boy responded only with a grimace.
Jarka rummaged through the cupboards. “Anywho, I have an idea. Might work. Won’t be too hard, either.” A mixing bowl was placed on the counter, soon accompanied by a cake pan. She waggled a spatula at her companion. “You just have to trust me.”
Had the cook not already started to work, she might have heard Sigfried mumble, “I make no promises.”
*****
Sigfried couldn’t quite form an opinion on the newcomer. She was spunky, that’s for sure – he hadn’t expected Skoll and Hati to listen to her so quickly. Yet, she didn’t make him feel threatened. He felt almost like she was self-centered, like all she gave a shit about was being able to cook. She wouldn’t struggle to take charge as long as she had a skillet. If that was the case, fine by him.
She was almost enough to distract him from the thought of Roy and Victoria. Almost. He pictured them walking down an empty avenue. Roy would walk just to soak up the ambiance, to play up the romance. In the glow of the streetlight, Victoria’s hair would be an ethereal, unnatural color like melting sherbet. Roy would fight with whether he should sling his arm around her waist, but he’d chicken out. Victoria would flash a shy smile and twirl her hair. The locks twisting between her fingers would –
Jarka snapped her fingers in his face. “Hey. Bing-bong. You helping me out or what?”
“Y-yeah. What do you need?”
The girl thrust a can of cooking spray into his hands. “Grease the pan. Good spritz, then rub it with a napkin. Bottom and sides.”
Sigfried followed her instructions. The napkin slid easily across the metal surface as it spread the slick of oil across the bottom, along the sides, and into the corners. Grease seeped into his napkin and began to coat his fingers. Because the task didn’t require his full attention, he allowed himself to idly coat the pan as he watched the girl work.
Jarka’s fingernail caught the tab on the soda can. Her forefinger arched; the torque pressed open the metal. She shifted her weight to one side as she poured the entirety of the fizzing liquid into the mixing bowl. The box of cake mix was retrieved. To open it, the girl ran her fingers under the length of the cardboard top.
Victoria would run her fingers down the length of Roy’s arm before sliding them into the crook of his elbow. The motion would be smooth, natural. Like they’d done it a million times before. Like they’d do it a million times more. Like –
“Can you grab me the spatula?”
Wordlessly, Sigfried handed her the utensil. She stirred the soda as she poured the dry cake mix into the mixing bowl. As the limited ingredients blended, her strokes became faster, harder. A batter had formed, smooth as any raw cake he had ever seen.
The cook offered the spatula to him. “How’s it taste?”
He took a small nibble of the batter. “Like cake.”
Jarka rolled her eyes. “There’s a surprise.” She peered into the bowl and dipped her index finger into the mix. With hardly a pause, she licked her finger and nodded.
Victoria would bite her index finger and flash a teasing glance at Roy. Roy would lean over to her ear. Butterflies would tumble through Roy’s stomach as he absorbed the sweet scent of her hair. He would whisper, “Maybe-”
“Maybe you should give me that pan? I think it’s pretty greasy by now.” Jarka had an incredulous look on her face. Sigfried, used to that kind of expression, obliged her request. The pan was filled with batter and placed in the preheated oven. As the box instructed, a timer was set for twenty-five minutes.
“Now we wait?” Sigfried watched the girl nod and stride to the sofa.
*****
Jarka was considering her new surroundings when Sigfried plopped onto the couch next to her and crossed his arms with a huff. The two sat in a silence that grew increasingly awkward as the boy grew increasingly more sullen.
After growing tired of his seething, the girl finally spoke. “So, Roy seems nice… if you’re into that sleazy politician and his bimbo ‘personal assistant’ kind of thing.”
Although he initially seemed on the brink of outburst, Sigfried ended up guffawing at her remark. “Yeah. I fucking hate him.” He leaned closely to her. “Although, word to the wise: Victoria isn’t a bimbo.”
Jarka raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me. I thought that came with the territory. Y’know. Golddigging.” She regarded the boy’s anguished expression. “Unless… a certain somebody has feelings for her.”
“No,” The boy leaned back. “Absolutely not. I just- I don’t want her fucking over everything we’ve worked for. She isn’t who she says is. She’s hiding something.”
The girl’s fingers instinctively twirled around her crystal pendant before she murmured, “Aren’t we all?”
After a pause, Sigfried snapped his fingers. “So, Jarka. Tell me about yourself.”
“I cook, what else is there?”
“Oh, you know, where you grew up, what you’ve done with your life, what you’re hiding from me. The basics.”
She laughed. “I grew up in the suburbs. Worked a bunch of jobs I hated, finally got a job I loved. Then that ended, and now I’m here. As for what I’m hiding, that’s a big old none of your beeswax. It’s not important, and it won’t get in the way of my job. Or ECM’s mission, for that matter. So don’t ask.”
Sigfried tossed his hands up in a mock surrender pose. “All right, all right. But, hey, high five for underachievers.” He extended his hand towards her.
Jarka rolled her eyes and returned the gesture. “And you? What dire deeds have you done?”
She couldn’t help but notice the boy wince before he answered. “Failed college student. I got hooked up with ECM, and here we are.”
“Really? You expect me to believe that? Everybody’s shaking in their boots around you.”
He smirked. “I’m just loveable like that. Also, tasers.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “You don’t really - ”
An incessant beeping filled the room. Sigfried jumped up. “Perfect timing! Skoll and Hati should be here any minute.”
True to his word, the pair arrived shortly after the cake was pulled from the oven. The kitchen was filled with a cacophony of chatter while groceries were stored in their proper place. Considering who was doing most of the sorting, Jarka was surprised at how neatly the cupboards were loaded.
When they neared the end, Sigfried groaned. “Guys, how did I know you were going to break the rule?” He hoisted a box of wine from a plastic bag.
Hati snickered. “It’s a special occasion! We have a new roommate… and no more Roy!”
“Okay, just this once. You hear me?” Sigfried plucked the final item from the bag. With a flourish, he handed the jar of icing to Jarka. “I assume this is for you?”
“Why, thank you!” The cook fetched another spatula and used it to plop the vanilla frosting onto the cooled cake. The sugary topping spread fairly evenly over the surface of the chocolate pastry, with mild wakes left by the path of the spatula. “Now, who’s hungry?”
*****
Cheap wine flowed freely and mingled nicely with slices of the chocolate confection. Sigfried grinned wildly while watching Skoll and Hati chase each other. Each wielded a banana and a cucumber like swords as they danced across the living room. At least they weren’t real blades. They were decent enough to, while showing off, not terrify the girl they were trying to impress. Glancing to Jarka, he was glad to see she was enjoying the show as well.
Her laughter was real, as was her generally pleasant demeanor. But, when she wouldn’t think anybody was looking, he would occasionally see a glimmer of something heavier. It wasn’t sadness. It would probably be best described as a burden. Like there was something weighing on her mind. Sigfried was reluctant to admit it, but it concerned him.
Roy concerned him. Roy would be waiting for Victoria to clean up her room. He’d be too much of a pussy to just go in; he’d wait for her to fetch him when she was ready. He’d be sitting –
Hati let forth a gurgling shriek. Skoll smashed the banana into his face, laughing maniacally. “Your soul is mine!” The remnants of the fruit were smeared into loser’s hair.
“Aw, fuck. Now I’ve gotta shower.”
Skoll stuck out his chest. “And now I have to go to bed victorious.” He glanced at his fallen comrade. “Eh, suppose I’ll help him clean up. Don’t want puke on my sofa. M’lady.” He grasped Jarka’s hand and planted a kiss on her knuckle. His balance waivered, and he collapsed into a heap of uncharacteristic giggles. After righting himself, he grabbed the significantly drunker Hati by the collar and shoved him towards the bathroom.
Roy would be watching the bathroom door, waiting while Victoria changed. They would have ordered a meal. He could open the door on her, but he wouldn’t do it. He was too much of a gentleman. He would just sit there, hands rubbing his knees as he stewed with excite-
Jarka playfully slapped Sigfried’s knee. “We’ve got a bit of a mess to clean up.” Her words carried a bit of a slur. She held out her hands expectantly. “Help me out, here.”
The boy righted himself and cracked his back. Now that he was standing, the effects of the alcohol flooded his brain, leaving him wobbly on his feet. He grabbed Jarka by the wrists and clumsily hoisted her upwards. She stumbled forward, but he grasped her by the shoulders.
Roy would be putting his hands on Victoria’s shoulders. He would be pushing her down onto the bed, no doubt emulating a movie he had seen. He would be leaning close, aching to kiss her. Victoria would be breathing heavily.
Sigfried could smell Jarka’s sweet breath inches away from him. He smirked. “Race ya.”
The two stumbled towards the kitchen countertop. As the girl got ahead, Sigfried pulled her by the hips to slow her down. Dishes clattered as they piled them in the sink. Sigfried grasped the box of wine.
Roy would be grasping her body. He would be kissing her. He would be slipping his tongue –
The only object that remained was the frosting coated spatula. Jarka and Sigfried glanced at each other, at the spatula, and back at each other. A stumbling dash commenced. Both hands reached out to the utensil.
Roy would be reaching his hand out to hers. She would be moaning. He would interlock his fingers into hers.
Their fingers brushed as they each grasped the spatula, and both froze. After a moment, Sigfried laced his fingers into Jarka’s and pressed his body against hers. She turned her head towards him; her brow furrowed. She leaned closer. Without a thought, he pressed his lips against hers.
*****
On a hill, a sapling grew. Delicate buds formed along its sprightly branches, but it was thirsty. An old man noticed the young tree and decided to nourish it. He returned to water the tree, which rewarded him with bright, beautiful apples every time it grew. One day, as the man was watering the tree, a hawk swooped down with an axe and chopped off a branch. It fell, killing the man. Now the hawk cared for the tree. The hawk built a nest in the tree, and every branch it touched grew a different fruit. Finally, the last branches of apple attacked the hawk and it crumpled into a tiny songbird.
Flustered, Jarka pulled away from the kiss. The pair shared a bewildered look, although she hoped he hadn’t shared in her vision.
The girl finally spoke. “Let’s… Let’s never do that again.”
“Agreed. That was like kissing my sister.” Sigfried stepped back, rubbing his temples.
Jarka plopped the spatula in the sink before turning back to the boy. “You’ve kissed your sister?”
“N-no, I meant… Agh, never mind. I’m drunk. That was stupid. Listen,” He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his head. “Forget this happened.”
“No problem.” The girl headed to her room, leaving Sigfried cursing in the kitchen. What the hell was that!? A fucking storybook? Kai! After a moment, she popped her head out of the room again. “Hey, Sigfried?”
The boy shot forth a pained expression. “What?”
“Night, ‘bro.”
He chuckled, looking slightly relieved. “Night, ‘sis.”
*****
As life often does, the results of the drunken kiss surprised Jarka. Instead of being unbearably awkward around each other, the past two days had been extremely comfortable between her and Sigfried. There was no subconscious tension; neither felt any non-platonic desires. They could simply focus on the mission at hand and enjoy the benefits of a blossoming friendship.
Of course, she had little explanation for the vision she had. Of course, she determined it to be some sort of prophecy, but it had been so much more cryptic than her previous experiences with foresight. Skimming her text had only provided limited references to visions of that sort. She would have to research more when she didn’t have other, more pressing matters on her mind.
She was baking. She couldn’t stop to think. There was no time. Hundreds upon hundreds of cookies and cupcakes.
Sigfried had been ecstatic when she’d told him her idea. Skoll and Hati had even pitched in to help, before getting distracted over a quarrel.
Now she was in her zone. She was only vaguely aware of him arguing with some woman at the door – was it Victoria? No matter. She had to keep producing.
She needed to be ready for the Earth’s Combined Militia Activism Awareness Bake Sale.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Sigfried Hunin - 01-14-2011
“I think we’re going to need more cookies.”
Sigfried stared out over the ocean of people before them in simply awe of the sheer immensity of the crowd. It was inspiring to see the fruits of his labor lapping up over the banks and shores of the street, a great teeming herd of folk gathered to bask in the glory of Munin’s words.
They weren’t even a real militia yet. Only about half of them had weapons and those who did had dragged their shotguns and proverbial pitchforks from their homes. He supposed that was their right. That’s why it was written into the law like that, so that the people should form a militia. As it stood, it was apparent most of the people on Earth hadn’t been exactly utilizing that right.
The ECM now consisted not of families, but of clans and hordes. Fathers, mothers, even children filled the writhing rank and file of the incoherent blob. What he knew of military strategy said that is was properly coined as a “gagglefuck.” It was not the preferred formation for troops. Thankfully, however, the collection of people had not gathered to wage war, at least not yet. They had gathered for baked goods and the sweet voice of the new militia that burgeoned within the walls of society.
Jarka Veselyova had slaved for hours (and hours and hours) over the tiny electric oven in the humble base of operations for the ECM that was the basement of a large apartment building. It could barely fit two racks in the damn thing and it seemed to vary between the two heats of “Surface of the Sun” and “The Deepest Depths of Hell”. She had, however, managed to make some of the best fucking cookies the boys had ever had - and they had each had a lot of cookies in their days. Mom cookies didn’t stand a leper’s chance at the PlayBunny mansion next to Jarka’s cookies. These were Kai’s cookies.
Unfortunately she had make a paltry four hundred eighty three cookies in addition to a number of other baked goods which seemed to teem and flow from the edges of the table like some kind of living wave of confectionary delight. There were around ten thousand men, women and children at the rally. There were not enough cookies.
Hati had managed to steal a good handful and Skoll had bought exactly two and one half before the devastation of the cook’s love child began. Sigfried was too busy quivering in terror as the onslaught began to really make much motion on them, but he did have exclusive rights to the crumbs that were left in the crevasses of the table.
Roy had planned on opening his speech after the bake sale had gone on for a little while, and, being that he had only briefly mentioned the sale in his latest interview, he had not expected such a turnout. It was phenomenal. If they could call these numbers forth from the cracks in the walls imagine the power they could wield with a rallying call to arms? Even Roy was shocked at the amount of snowball fanaticism they had garnered. It was terrifying. It was an awesome pride and fear that crept up from inside him. The fear that comes when you see your very deepest aspirations coming true. That creeping agony that crawls through your heart when you are almost afraid of yourself.
There he stood, alone in front of that wall of men and women. His voice was filtered through a microphone and through a pair of massive loudspeakers that, for once, he wished could actually turn up to eleven. The crowd roared until his lips parted, and, like a cackling clan of hyena when the lion spoke his mind, they fell suddenly silent.
“We have gone on too long alone, people of Earth.” His crystal blue eyes searched the faces of the people that followed him. “This is not an issue of Central City… or West City… or South City, this is an issue of mankind. This is no longer something we should ignore. This is no longer something we can ignore.” His voice was calm and slow, a solemn difference to his usual energy and vigor. The crowd gazed up upon him like doe in the headlights of a monstrous semi.
He suddenly exploded with energy, his voice booming like the voice of Kai. “Look at us!” He waved his hand over the people dramatically. “We wouldn’t be here if it were not for our fear. Yes! I said it! We. Are. AFRAID!” His hands gripped at the podium as he leaned in, a furious expression on his face. Voices murmured in the crowd, tones too low to challenge his verbal might.
He nodded softly and paced back and forth slowly before returning to the mic.“Why shouldn’t we be? How can we ignore the problems that are facing us anymore?” He joust his index fingers about the crowd seemingly randomly, but his presence dipped and flowed back down to sooth the minds of the jostled populace.
“What have they done for you? The government.” He wiped his hair back as several strands had come loose in his fervor. “What have they done for us? The entire purpose of a government is to provide for the people what they cannot provide for themselves. We are more than capable of providing ourselves with inaction. Is that what you pay your taxes for? Is that what you vote for and go through every forsaken year we live under this cabinet?”
He shook his head slowly and his voice dropped so low the microphone barely picked it up. “I didn’t think so.” The crowd’s whispers slowly grew to the howls of a wild horde. People flailed and threw things into the air as madness slowly overtook them. Roy was forced to slowly wave his hand to quell them and allow his speech to move onward.
He closed his eyes and dipped his head slowly, looking at his shoes in what might be seen as shame or disappointment. “No, that’s not why we follow them anymore. We follow the people up top because that’s the way it’s always been. Because that’s just ‘how it works’.” He threw up petulant finger quotations around his statement. “Is… is that what we deserve? I was once told by a wise man that, ‘Every nation deserves its government’.” He stared at the people as though to challenge them to disagree. “That’s right, we deserve this. We deserve it because we have done nothing to change it.”
Those cool blue eyes seemed to sear with fury now as he stared out across the people. “Well I think it’s time we change. I think it’s time for us to move onward and upward and through this invasion the way that we know we have to. The way we know we should because lives are at stake. Not arlian lives, not namekian lives, not frostlings or saiyans, but human lives. Your neighbors, my neighbors. They’re dying up there. They are being killed to keep Capsule Corporation’s assets safe!” He pounded his fist into the wooden frame that demonstrated his right to speak. “That’s not right! It’s not right to let our sons and daughters, husbands and wives suffer for people that would not lift a hand or claw to help us.” Once again the devil arose from the throats of the people in true motivated agreement.
He chuckled softly to himself and shook his head. “Have no doubt in my thankfulness to their service. That is what makes us human, our desire to help. Our yearning and calling to lift helping hands for those who need it.” He threw his hands up in the air and turned slightly, as if to show his agendas were not beneath his arms. “I don’t blame them! Who would? But my point is this,” he leaned in and poked his head out over the crowd as though he spoke to a long lost friend. “Why not here? Why not in our homes and cities? Are we not good enough for the Earth to defend?”
He sat and stared, making eye contact with each of the rabble below him.“No, no… I say we are.” He pointed down sternly to the people who gazed, mesmerized by his impassioned words. “I think it’s time you let them know you agree.”
With that he turned and began to stride away from his stand as a thunderous roar arose behind him. A man with soft brown hair, a dark suit and a crisp, passionate voice had alit rage in the heart of Earth. If the aliens were to scan the planet’s thermal signature you might think that the molten part was not at the core of the planet but rather dead center of Central City as the flames and spite began to roll from the mouths of the civilians who had felt so wronged. Memories of pointless, corporate-driven wars floated to the top. Ancient scars of twisted television shows and rampaging lunatics were uncovered from their hiding places and born with hate.
A riot did not start. It was not the city streets and businesses with which they were angry. No cars deserved to be flipped. No, these people headed home and to work and to their lives with a new sense of awakening. No longer able to close their eyes, Roy Munin had undone decades of brainwashing from television and news and lies. All the careful work of the overseers and the panderers and the ones who “knew what was best”.
It didn’t take long after. It was the first true crowd and the first truly inspiring speech that the campaign had to offer, and it had twisted heads on their shoulders. The people had begun to organize. They had begun to speak up on their own. Quickly news and radio was drowned in the voices of the unsatisfied. Talks that Roy should take a lead in the new cabinet were not uncommon. That he should be elected for office.
Some though, saw that Roy’s words were to call the people to revolt. To tear the system from its roots and bury the carcass under the foundations of a new republic of Mankind. Death bristled under their skin and threatened to protrude out and engulf their bodies and minds. They had been those of a similar mind as Sigfried, those who fought the invasion because they had tasted no purpose in life.
Others simply followed the pretty face and golden voice as they had done a thousand times before, this time with the added benefit of believing they heard the truth.
Such a strange time indeed for Earth when it was within their best interest to destroy themselves in a time of war. Even stranger when the people followed what was best for them. They made ready the weapons of their hearts and awaited to falling of the gates.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Victoria - 01-14-2011
Fuming, that's what she was doing. It was a feeling Victoria knew well. She couldn't understand her own feelings, nor, the feelings that people were obviously feeling toward her. The girl had paced the sidewalk outside of the dingy apartment for what felt like hours. Fingers curled in against her palms to bite the soft flesh, in and out, angry, and fuming. Her eyes lifted to the sky. The radio show had gone well, so well, that she found herself almost hypothesized by Roy Munin's words. He was a revolutionary like none other. If not for his lack of strength and power, he would have made a formidable adviser within the Company. They always did need smooth talkers, silver-tongued and smartly dressed. If anything, Roy was just as much to be feared for what he could say to stir the hearts of the listeners as they should fear the hunter that idolized him.
Think, think, she let her thoughts wander and her anger simmer. Sigfried got under her skin. The guy was on to her. It didn't take a genius to see that look in his eyes. Victoria was a skilled hunter, but espionage wasn't her strongest point. Somehow, somewhere, she had slipped up. What did it matter, she wondered? Sigfried wasn't important, he was just...some kid.
A fist slammed into the side of the brick wall, crumbling the hard surface and making it crack like glass. Shards fell to the ground. Any harder and the building would have begun to shake. Victoria walked away from the apartment and disappeared into the crowd.
--
“This is...pretty amazing,” she breathed. Bright cobalt hues flicked from the wave of people to the podium where Roy stood with his gleaming smile and sharp suit.
Victoria had joined the event moments ago, having been preoccupied in her hotel dealing with an irate boss. There was much to be said of Victoria's lack of communication. She asked herself, time and again, what was she doing? The girl knew very little about the world's politics. She knew very little about romance and wine. All she knew, all she had grown up believing, was that she was a tool. She was a weapon, but, this wasn't what a weapon did. Her teeth sunk into the sugary surface of the cookie. Hunters didn't dress up and nibble cookies.
“I'm pretty amazed myself, I didn't think that this many people would show up, I should have made more,” the young woman said beside her. She tucked a strand of brown hair just behind her ear, and her lips flickered a smile. It was as if the girl couldn't decide whether to smile over how well her cookies and goods were being recieved, or frown at the fact that they were nearly all gone.
“I don't think any of us realized Roy would have such an impact.” Victoria's eyes went down to the cement. The road had been blocked off for the event, the people were teeming along the streets, their words hushed as the man preached to them. Victoria had only taken one cookie, she wasn't greedy.
Jarka was an unknown entity to the hunter. There were only two women that Victoria had ever really socialized with. Olivia, her superior's lover and now wife, and Mary...the local would-be doctor on the Zone. This was unfamiliar territory for the cherry haired femme fatal.
“So how did you end up joining the Earth’s Combined Militia?” her melodic voice lifted up from the soft murmurs of the men, women, and children beyond the table where the two stood.
Victoria turned to face the shorter girl, only by two inches, but she was overall smaller in stature. She offered a small smile. This was unusual for her, but she tried her best. “I heard Roy on the street, talking to the people, but no one would listen. I found myself wanting to help, so I found myself believing. I went up to Roy and told him that I believe him, and that was it. We went on the streets and continued to spread the word, and then, the mayor's office...” her voice trailed off. Victoria's eyes glanced to the man at the podium.
“It's a miracle you two made it out alive.” Jarka let concern shimmer in her eyes. The girl was a caring soul, that much could be seen. It took compassion, a sense of knowing and feeling to be able to cook, and Victoria couldn't even touch on that.
“I don't think that he...” the hunter paused, a pale hand touching the collar of her blouse for a moment. She had worn a black skirt and a white shirt today, nothing special. Sometimes she didn't want too much attention on herself. It wasn't right, at all, how she had been acting these last two weeks. Not right at all. “I can do things that would probably scare him, scare anyone. I'm afraid to tell them the truth. Not just for what they might do, but, for my own circumstances. I don't even know why I'm telling you this.” Her brows furrowed and she turned away for a moment.
Jarka shook her head with a friendly smile and touched Victoria's shoulder gently. “Sometimes we need someone to talk to. I don't mind lending an ear.”
The hunter didn't move away, but she let her gaze flick to the side at Jarka. She was already in deep shit as it was. Victoria had gotten in too deep. Fraternizing, using her powers in public, and slacking off. There was much to be ashamed about. These things, they hurt her the most, and she couldn't breathe a word. “I'm sure things will work themselves out, but thanks Jarka, I feel a little better. I'm just not used to feeling this way about someone, not someone like Roy,” Victoria whispered.
“You must really like him.”
“I do, and, that scares me.”
--
It was an amazing turn of events. The people at the rally were filled with new motivation, new ideas, a fire bursting in their spirit. Victoria had seen very little of Roy, aside from the most shy smiles ever given to the man and a quick exchange of words. She had to go. For how long, she wasn't sure. Victoria would be back, she had to come back, she needed this. It wasn't just about her feelings, but she did find his words inspiring even if they made little sense to her sheltered mind. Before he could protest her things were packed and she was gone, the hotel room empty.
Roy Munin had to ask himself. Who was Victoria, and how did she worm her way into his heart?
--
“What?!”
A slam was heard, a fist against the desk. Jeremy stood over the smooth surface, his eyes ablaze. His fingers curled tight against the wood and he straightened once more. Fingers lifted to adjust his green silken tie before those fingers smoothed through his raven lochs. This entire mission had gone awry without him even knowing. He thought that Victoria would be loyal. To the Company, to him, to herself. This was beyond her. It was too late.
“You saw the video footage, what else can I say?”
Victoria had received the phone call to return a day after the rally, that was why she had left. There was no ignoring direct orders, no matter how far in she had gotten. The hunter had no other calling. Now her eyes were filled with guilt, with pain, flicking to the side to avoid his gaze. What they had had...it was all on the line. Jeremy made this happen, it was his own undoing. “The government is going to be changed, one way or another, and I don't think there's anything we can do to stop it.”
“The invaders aren't here, Victoria,” Jeremy spat in anger and walked around his desk. His hands lifted to either side of her face to force her to look up at him. “You forgot who you were out there. This was an important mission and you failed.”
Her hands lifted to pry his fingers away. Anger burned in her eyes like embers long forgotten. Those eyes...he knew them well. “Fuck you, Jeremy, I did my job. I went in, I watched, and I reported. The fucking alien was there, twice! I almost caught him, and then he came back...hell if I know whether or not it was even the same one!” she hollered at him, her fists tight at her sides.
“You can't tell me that Roy is just some average guy off the street,” he retorted. Shoes clicked on the marble floor and he turned the computer monitor. There on the screen the suited politician stood at his podium during the rally, talking to the people. “He went from nothing to this. Look at how he's manipulated the people of Central City. It's going to spread. Where are the invaders? They should be attacking, they aren't even in the sky.”
“You don't know anything, Jeremy, I was there!”
“It's a ruse!”
“I believe him!”
Smack!
Victoria grew silent, her face turned hard to one side and her hand to her red cheek. It had been a long time since he had done that. Tears welled up within her eyes and she fought the urge to sob. How did things get like this? Her eyelids shut tight causing the tears to slide down her cheeks.
Warmth surrounded her and her superior held her. In doing so, he collected the glimpse of memories in her blouse. So, that's how it is... his thoughts mused as he held her against his chest. Now he could understand what had happened to his poor, sweet, Victoria. His fingers moved slowly from around her body, the other arm surrounding her. Tips grasped her chin gently and tilted her pretty face up to face him.
“You know that you can't have that, love,” he whispered.
“You...” she bit back the words. The hunter knew of his ability to see memories. There was no arguing with the man. He had watched her, raised her, trained her. The love he had for her went beyond romance, beyond kisses in the shadows. She knew that he had played some small part in Joal's departure from Earth to Vegeta. Victoria had seen him nearly kill Richard for touching her.
“We have to do something about this.”
“No, don't,” she pulled his hand away from her face. It would have taken one touch for him to remove all of her memories of the events. “There's something to be gained from this,” she whispered and wiped at the tears in her eyes. “Hear me out.”
His mahogany irises glinted in the soft lamp light. She might have had an idea, a scheme, to serve them in the end. Victoria would always be his, there was little anyone could do. Even if he had Olivia on his arm already, that would end, and he would have Victoria. It would just take something big...something ground breaking. Yes, in fact, this could be just what he needed.
“Go on.”
Nestled against his chest, eyes wavering, she set her brow to his chest and let her lips become wet by her tongue quickly. “The government is changing, but what do we care about that? They have no affect on the clients really...except themselves. I'm sure that by keeping me close, if Roy does get in, we could stay in contact and remain on his roster. Think about it...if he's in power, he'll know to ask Zone Five for what he might need, through me. Aside from that, the invaders, they have to be real...didn't our contacts confirm?”
“Yes, there are wars breaking out on the other planets. Earth hasn't seen any activity aside from the two hits you mentioned.”
“Let me talk with Sigfried. I can't say whether or not this entire thing is a ruse, it could be, but that's not our concern. The shift in government power will benefit us in the end. There might even be more targets than before. We keep close, and we'll see money, we're on the winning side. When the fighting happens...I'll be there. Show them what they have on their side.”
“They'll see how strong you are, and know what they're dealing with, won't they?” a suave smile painted his lips.
Victoria looked up at him with a small smile. “I'm going to tell Sigfried who I am. I have a feeling that he's the one pulling the strings. I don't know about Roy.”
“Stop what you're doing with Roy Munin.”
“Jeremy,” she breathed his name, and slowly, her hands lifted up to cup his cheeks. “You always were an old fool. My acting must be better than I give myself credit for. She tilted up on her toes, much like that night in Roy's clean room, in his dirty apartment. Sweet pink lips graced her mentor's mouth in a sensual kiss that had him all but melting in her fingertips. Her mouth pulled away a fraction, tongue flicking out to tease his divided lips. “I always belonged to you.”
--
The bathroom had no cameras, unlike her bedroom. Jeremy had replaced the camera that she had ripped out. Now she leaned over the sink, wetness splattered into the basin from her cheeks. It was a lot to bare. It was too much to handle. Feelings weren't meant to be involved. She had involved them in her plot. Tears were evidence of her lies and her schemes. What's real anymore? It was hard being a pawn. It was hard falling in love.
--
The leather felt at home on her body, perfect, like a second skin. She smoothed out the fabric of the slit skirt and adjusted the fastens on her vest. Guns were holstered at her hips, and a smaller one fastened to the ankle of her right boot. Long hair was swept back over her shoulders, a headset against her head, long bangs flowing out like molten bubblegum. Her fingers snapped, static igniting and dispersing, a small smile lighting her features with half a smirk.
We need to talk. In private. Meet me at Aaron Park Hotel at six o'clock. My room number will be 15.
She had sent the message to Sigfried directly. His eyes only. It had been two days since she had last seen Roy, and before she saw him again, she would need to talk to the younger male.
It was a simple plan, and, it would be the best for both parties. Victoria had successfully convinced Jeremy that in the end, her actions would show their power and their influence. Zone Five was Earth's number one hunter collective on Earth. She had to inform Sigfried that they were suspicious, but, equal cooperation would benefit them both. It wasn't as if the entire would would be falling apart...no, proper structure would be in place. With the Company involved, their hands would be in the new governments pockets. Any forth-coming wars would be given the aid of their number one hunter; Victoria. A fair deal...
Her figure stood in the balcony entrance, right on the threshold. As if she could jump, or she could fall back. There was no way to change the events surrounding her, but she could avoid one thing...one detail. She would have to hope that Sigfried would be an understanding individual. Secrets were piling up like a pile of pancakes. It only made her want to cry.
A knock rang out and she snapped her body sidelong, gazing at the door. Sure, she could just not answer it. She could run away, flee to Namek or Vegeta, catch a cruise on a spacecraft going nowhere. No...she couldn't. Victoria walked over to the door and opened it slowly.
“New outfit?” he mused cooly and walked into the room. A quick cursory glance was cast against her figure, outfit. The girl shut the door and moved toward two chairs with a small table between them.
“There might be a lot of secrets going on between both of us. To be honest, I don't care what your secrets are. I don't care what happened between then, and now,” she said as she sat with perfect posture on the chair, one leg over the other. “I'm here to tell you what my employers have to offer.”
He was silent for a time, as if taking this in, news that he didn't know of...“I'm listening,” Sigfried sat down with a slump in the other chair, hardly one for manners. Victoria eyed him for a moment before she took a breath. Her eyes settled on his youthful features obscured by the hood over his head.
“I work for an organization that is highly trained and skilled. We take jobs, we fulfill them, and we don't fuck around doing them. We believe that, in some way, you have a hand in what's going on in the government. My employers are offering a deal. If, for example, you or Mr. Munin have influence on the new structure of Earth's government as we assume you're planning to...It would be asked that you leave the organization to continue their missions, and, call upon them first and foremost. In exchange I will be helping with the efforts, they're effectively going to make me your subordinate in whatever endeavors we proceed with. They believe that you will succeed with your plans and are willing to back you up so long as you continue to do business with them hereon.”
“There's a lot of assumption going on,” he replied and shifted in his seat.
“You know what I can do, don't you?” there was a tinge of curiosity in her voice. She had a feeling that somehow he knew, for some time. Victoria had no idea who Sigfried was. She didn't know what he had done, or that the aliens didn't really exist on Earth. His mind was a book she couldn't read. All she could do was what she as asked, and, hope for something...
“Maybe."
“I don't know much about the government. My job is my life, and you know that I'm strong, so that's not a lie. I'm loyal to a fault. I will help you, and I'll do whatever you need me to do, but you need to trust me and show me that I can trust you.”
“I'm going to have to think about it,” he stood up and tucked his hands into his pockets.
Victoria stood, and frowned softly. Any number of things could have been going through the male's head. Perhaps it was just a ploy to make her nervous. Well, if that were the case, she would have to...stop him from spreading word of what she had just told him. Victoria didn't want to hurt him.
“Just don't tell Roy.”
She thought she saw a smirk, but she blinked, and it was gone. “What?” Sigfried replied.
“Don't tell Roy about this, any of it, please. This isn't something that I want him to know about. This life of mine...it's complicated, and I just...with him, I forget. Alright? Can you just not tell him?” she could have been begging as her voice nearly wavered. The hunter sat back down and ever so timidly twirled a length of her hair. “We all need something to distract us from the truth. Roy makes me feel normal, and alive. So, take as much time as you need, but this needs to stay between us.” Her eyes lifted to lock to his, in the depth of the shadows. That stare could scare soldiers. She was serious, and that was never something to toy with.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Jarka - 01-14-2011
Not enough.
Hands wringing, Jarka surveyed the spread of confections. The past two
days had been spent toiling through the tiny kitchen in a struggle to produce. Toiling wasn’t the right word- that would imply that she hadn’t enjoyed it. Despite her aching back, hustling to provide the sugary snacks had been one of the most fulfilling challenges she had ever attempted.
But she had failed.
Of course, Hati and Skoll were of little help. In fairness, they had bustled through the kitchen as she barked orders – pleasantly barked. Now, however, they were perpetually trying to snatch up the few remaining treats before the intended consumers could devour them.
CRACK!
Luckily, Jarka was there to stop them. Her wooden spoon rapped the knuckles on Hati’s extended hand. Cradling his injury, he hissed menacingly. The cook shook her finger at him and mouthed the word “No.”
Hati considered the girl for a moment before reaching into his pocket. Out came a previously stashed cookie, which the boy promptly devoured with a victorious smirk.
The girl rolled her eyes. It had been a never ending battle since she had first uncovered the confections on that chilly morning. Armies of cupcakes helmeted in pastel dollops of frosting held the front line, flanked by a cavalry of crème puffs. To the east, a sea of fruity tart bars formed a tangy shoreline. Westward, mountains of cookies towered, their terrain nearly as diverse as they were numerous.
Initially, she had been concerned about the potential for leftovers, a peaceful end. Now, it seemed there would be no survivors.
Sigfried glanced at the dwindling desserts. “I think we’re going to need more cookies.”
Jarka turned her head to hide the wincing that contorted her features. Her face grew hot with embarrassment, with disgrace for her deficit. She knew his words weren’t an attempt to be cruel; that didn’t mean that the comment had lost its sting. Get a hold of yourself. To distract herself, she turned her eyes to the mob.
The crowd rumbled with excitement. The mass of bodies pressed forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the speaker as he emerged from backstage. Roy Munin, the smooth talker from Central City, approached the podium with a calm grace, like he was completely unaware of the multitude of faces with their eyes affixed to him. Like he was just getting ready to read a book by the fireplace.
He leaned into the microphone. The cacophony of the crowd diminished until not eve a whisper could be heard.
“We have gone on too long alone, people of Earth.” As the tawny haired man spoke, his eloquence surprised Jarka. Not one for current events, it was the first time the young girl had heard him truly spin his words for an audience. She felt herself become swept up by his message, yearning to take action, to fight. She may have been completely enraptured had it not been for the sudden appearance of Victoria by her side.
“This is...pretty amazing.” The newcomer’s eyes were widened, as though she couldn’t quite take in the entire sight of the crowd. Although it was difficult over the din of the speech, the two managed to hold a pleasant conversation.
The cook was surprised. Away from Roy, Victoria was rather enjoyable. In fact, it seemed as though the two could have much more in common than she had initially believed. Sigfried had been correct; there was more to Victoria than she and her cotton candy hair had let on to.
The girl spoke of hidden strength, and Jarka ached to reciprocate. The burden of her blossoming powers seemed too heavy to carry alone. Maybe Victoria would understand. Maybe… maybe she had abilities like hers. They could be confidantes in the formerly private struggle.
Jarka stepped towards Victoria and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Sometimes we need someone to talk to. I don't mind lending an ear.” Please. I don’t want to do this alone anymore.
A quick glance to the cook indicated interest, but Victoria ultimately remained silent. Yet, Jarka could see the anguish on her face. How she tensed her body as she chewed over her offer. She needed to talk. To vent. To reveal some hidden secret burning away at her.
Her verbal response was to politely decline, but there was hope. The girl was still anguished. As if to answer Jarka’s pleading hopes for connection, Victoria spoke of her feelings for Roy. They were strong enough to scare her. The cook could tell that the girl felt relieved, but still troubled. She could tell that there was more she wanted to say. Maybe if Jarka took the first step…
This was Jarka’s chance. She would tell her everything. Tell her about her powers. Tell her how frightened she was. She opened her mouth to speak.
Roy’s voice echoed across the auditorium. “I think it’s time you let them know you agree.”
The crowd erupted. Amidst all the cheers and stamps, Jarka was alone once more.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Chubbs Story Account - 01-15-2011
The world keeps spinning.
||As in, keep doing what you're doing. You guys don't need updates.||
[M][Earth] Of the People - Jarka - 01-15-2011
“Five thousand, six hundred, and forty-two.”
Jarka twitched in surprise, splashing the lemonade she had been pouring all over the kitchen counter. Ignoring the mess, she strode towards the sofa. She had to have misheard. It was obscene.
Tentatively, she placed her hand on Sigfried’s shoulder. “What did you say?”
The boy gestured to the coffee table. Scattered across its surface were piles of zeni representing every imaginable denomination. He had spent the last hour counting the proceeds of the Earth’s Combined Militia Activism Awareness Bake Sale while Hati and Skoll hovered over him, eyes glistening with avarice.
“Five thousand, six hundred, and forty-two.” He smirked. “You can recount it if you want.”
Clicking his heels as he halted, Roy thrust his chin skyward upon hearing the final sum. He had been silent since they had returned to their dingy apartment, choosing instead to pace stoically on the far side of the room. Now, a charming grin splashed across his cheeks.
He turned to his comrades, his arms outstretched. “It seems that our event was a rousing success.”
The group chattered with excitement, exchanging handshakes and high fives. As the burst of congratulations settled, Jarka couldn’t help but feel guilt once again for her shortcoming. Had she managed to provide adequate confections, they would have made even more money. Still, her contribution was appreciated. She plopped on the sofa next to Sigfried, choosing to remain silent.
Roy moved next to the television and leaned against the wall. “So, only one question remains…” He stroked his chin pensively. “What should we do with the money?”
“BOOZE.” Hati and Skoll needed no deliberation.
Sigfried’s middle finger was an apt rejection to their proposal. His eyes, wrought with unspoken stratagem, fell to the stacks on the table. “Guys, put these back in the briefcase for now. I’ll figure something out.”
Jarka watched as the bickering cronies followed their command. As it always did, Sigfried’s ability to pull the strings of their group impressed her. Even Roy seemed to be a puppet to the younger man, despite being the face and, more importantly, the voice of their makeshift group. She wondered how much Sigfried had toyed with her, if at all.
She knew he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. She almost didn’t mind. To be entirely truthful, it seemed as though everybody she met since joining Earth’s Combined Militia had been bursting with secrets layered upon hidden motives. A bit of a hypocrite now, aren’t we?
Sigfried gently punched her bicep as he rose from the couch. “Hey, I’mma go in my room. Be all dubious and shit. Will you be around later?”
The girl nodded. Where else would I be?
“Cool.” A smirk failed to conceal his preoccupation. His plodding footsteps were soon silenced by the slam of the bedroom door.
“Hey, Jarka.” Hati’s arms crossed at his chest when she glanced in his direction. “You’re in my spot. Move, or, uh,” He bounced his eyebrow. “We’ll have to cuddle.”
With a quick slap to her knees, Jarka was off of the sofa. “Well, I’ll be in my room.”
*****
The book rested in her lap, a bowl of water obscuring the text. Kai, I’ve never felt so stupid in my entire life. A heavy sigh rumbled slowly through Jarka’s lips. Her eyelids gently dropped shut.
Feel the spirit of the water. Feel your mind’s finger tap the surface. Anticipate the wake.
She strained to make a mental picture without thought, like the book cryptically suggested.
Feel your mind’s finger make a circle around the center of the water.
Her breathing slowed.
Anticipate the wake. Feel your mind’s finger make a bigger circle. Anticipate the wake.
She began to feel strangely… exerted. Nevertheless, she continued the exercise.
Anticipate the wake.
Her mind felt as though it were simultaneously silent and buzzing.
Anticipate.
The girl opened her eyes, which soon widened in disbelief.
The bowl was host to a miniscule whirlpool. She had done it. The exercise had worked. She was officially, really, truly, and actually telekinetic. Slowly, a smile worked its way onto her lips. It felt good to be in control of the ability, to not be surprised by it. It felt… right.
She relaxed her body, her mind, her eyes.
“Again.”
*****
“Time to step it up a notch.”
The few days spent practicing had already proven worthwhile. Jarka had mastered the water movement, even managing to create the spirals with her eyes open. Now, her mind’s digit was itching to scratch something a bit more challenging.
In her palm sat the metal spoon that her kischiatrist had given her. It was light and more malleable than most silverware, something that she’d likely be grateful for in a moment. She raised her hand just inches away from her face.
Exhale. Eyes closed. Anticipate the wave.
The door to her room creaked open. “Hey, Jarrrr…” Sigfried’s unexpected entrance was accompanied by an agape jaw. “Is- Is that a spoon?”
Caching the occupied hand in her lap, her free hand haphazardly covered the evidence of her deeds with a pillow. Her countenance reddening, the girl shrieked at the interruption. “What are you doing? Get out!”
“I-I… Sorry.” The door clicked shut.
She flopped backwards onto the bed. As her nerves steadied, a wave of guilt washed over her. She shouldn’t have snapped at him. She could have explained what she was doing. Why she was doing it. She could have told him everything. She should tell him everything. She glanced to the door. She would tell him everything.
Reluctantly, she slid off the bed and proceeded to the living room.
A perplexed Sigfried reclined on the sofa, refusing to acknowledge her entrance. The girl filled an electric kettle, allowing it to burble as she contemplated how exactly to manage her confession. A barely audible click announced the completion of the heating cycle. Earl Grey seeped into the mugs as she poured the boiling water over the teabags.
The beverages clinked against the hard surface of the coffee table. “Let it steep for five.” Jarka took a seat next to the bewildered boy. Tell him. Now. “I’m sorry. Listen, what you saw - .”
“I should have knocked.” Sigfried shook his head. “My bad. I won’t ask.”
The girl cast a downward glance. She’d missed her shot; he had closed himself off to any more discussion on the mishap. Currently, it seemed he also closed off any hope of conversation as well. The silence grew unbearably more awkward with each passing moment. “So, where’s the gang?”
“Out.”
One word answers weren’t much better. “I’m not mad at you. I was startled.”
Finally, he gazed meekly towards her. “I’m making this worse, aren’t I?”
“A little bit.”
He smirked. “I’m an ass, aren’t I?”
“A little bit.” The pendant around her neck twisted between her fingers.
“Let me explain - ”
The boy tossed his hand, silencing her. “Privacy is privacy. We all have secrets.”
Well, there goes that opportunity. In that serendipitous way that time often works, the hands on the clock had inched forward to exactly teatime. Jarka removed the teabags and handed Sigfried his mug. “So, what’s up, oh fearless leader?”
The boy took a quick gulp of his tea before clacking it back onto the table. “Well! I wanted to run this by you. You know, before everybody else.”
Jarka grasped both hands around the steamy beverage and drew it towards her face, eager to hear his plan as always.
“Okay, so… we’re really starting to get the ball rolling, right? Bake sale went awesome, you rock. Now, this money is great and all, but it’s not enough for an army. Hell, it’s not enough to recruit an army. So, listen.” His fingers snapped into the shape of guns, which he waggled for emphasis. “We need to take it to the next level.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
His face beamed, the wheels in his head clicking into place. “Why, Jarky, I’m so glad you asked.”
The cook listened intently as he elaborated his plan. The money they had earned would, unsurprisingly, be placed right back into ECM’s mission. The zeni could buy them a banquet hall rental and a few tips to the local television stations. Roy and Victoria would spend an upcoming afternoon at the luncheon, rubbing shoulders with society’s upper crust and spreading the message of their organization – namely how much it would benefit their bank accounts. The impressed aristocrats would gladly spread their pocketbooks to assist him.
Following that, the impressive Mr. Munin would engage in another enrapturing public rhetoric. This time, the location would be in Bujin Memorial Plaza, under the honorable gaze of its namesake’s likeness. His newly acquired benefactors would be seated around him, showing the populace just how much they cared and confirming the validity of the movement. It will be here that he would, to wild roars of enthusiasm, announce his plan to run for mayor of Central City.
Roy’s day would end by descending into the crowd for a meet and greet. Babies would be kissed and t-shirts would be signed, all while flashing that stunning smile for the press.
Woo the rich, appease the masses, make for some photo ops. It would be cake for their political darling.
Sigfried locked his hands behind his head. “Well?”
“That’s… incredible.” Jarka’s reaction was not an exaggeration. “You- You thought of all that in just a few days?”
“No,” A chuckle gently shook his body. “It’s rolled around my head for a while. Now was just the prime time to pull the trigger.” A look of concern flashed onto his normally despondent features. “So, you do like it?”
Wordlessly, the girl held up her fist, prompting Sigfried to pound it with his own.
“Good.” He winked. “There’s the only opinion that matters.”
The girl clutched her hands mockingly to her heart. Her hair was quickly mussed by Sigfried in response.
Laughing, Jarka poked him in the side. “I take it you need me to cook for the luncheon?”
“Who else could I trust?”
Without thinking, the girl blurted out, “I’m psychic.” Her palms clasped over her mouth as though they could catch the tumbling words before they reached his ears. Instantaneous regret coursed through her bloodstream, burning her face. Tears threatened to spill when she realized there was no retracting what she had just said.
“You’re… psychic? Really?” Sigfried looked incredulous, but concerned. Still, she hadn’t meant to tell him. Not like this. How could she have been so stupid?
First a sniffle, then a whimper, and then the sobs came. The girl doubled over, burying her face in the crook of her elbow as her shoulders trembled.
“Hey. Hey, now. Come here.” Scooting closer, the boy gently guided her onto his chest into a comforting embrace. His fingers reassuringly stroked her hair; his arms offered an occasional squeeze. The girl clutched his sweatshirt, grateful for the warmth of the cozy fabric and the kindness of her friend.
When her weeping subsided, he lifted her chin with his forefinger and brushed a wet lock from her face. He whispered in a soothing tone, “Do you want to talk about it?”
The girl struggled to speak. It was strange, to say the least. She had spent so much time, so much energy trying to keep her secret from the people she had become involved with. Now that she was ready to talk, it was like she couldn’t even remember what she had been hiding.
She wiped away the moist residue from her cheeks. “Sigs, can you get me a bowl of water?”
“Water?” Sigfried looked puzzled, but obeyed. He set the bowl on the coffee table and resumed his position by Jarka’s side.
“This is all pretty new to me.” She gestured towards the bowl. Her companion leaned forward, watching intently.
Anticipate the wake. Her mind pulled the water into a whirlpool, faster and faster. Soon, the bowl wobbled from the force of the current. Faster swirls meant more wobble, meaning more movement from the bowl. It spun off the table, soaking the carpet where it landed.
The psychic winced. “Sorry. Got a little carried away”
“It’s water. I don’t think it’ll stain.”
The girl giggled. “But, yeah. I’ve only known about this for, like, a month or so.”
Eyes still transfixed on the bowl, Sigfried muttered, “Slipped through the cracks, eh?”
The comment caught Jarka off-guard. Could he mean -
“So! You move shit with your mind.” His voice was awestruck.
She nodded slowly, absolved of any suspicion. “Oh. And, I can see the future. Sometimes.”
He tossed his hands up, stunned. “’Oh, and!?’ Jarky, that’s badass!”
“Well, it’s just, like, ten seconds ahead.” She bit her lip. Best keep the prophecy to herself. “I still don’t really understand how to use it.”
The boy shook his head slowly, gazing back at splotch of water. He jerked his head toward the bowl. “How long did it take you to learn that?”
“A few hours. It gets harder if it’s farther away. A couple of days to do it with my eyes open.”
Sigfried turned back to the girl, examining her as she reclined gently on the sofa. For the first time since she’d arrived at ECM, she seemed relaxed, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was smiling softly to herself, an expression that seemed more natural for her than breathing.
“Not to pry or anything, but…” Sigfried hesitated in order to find the correct words. “Why’d you wait so long to tell me?”
“Sigs, aside from my parents…” A slight shrug distracted from the tears that teased their way into her eyes. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”
The boy was silent; his eyes remained locked with hers. She watched as his face became a medley of emotions, some recognizable, some indecipherable.
Pride, affinity, elation, empathy, and perhaps a dash of guilt all colored the smile that spread across his face. Moisture tickled his eyes, a sensitive reaction she doubted he often showed.
Sigfried collapsed into a tender embrace with the girl. Jarka squeezed his torso as tightly as she could, as though she hoped never to let go of the friend, the confidante she had gained.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Sigfried Hunin - 01-15-2011
Sigfried’s hand lingered on the handle of Victoria’s hotel as he looked down to the floor. The moment hung stagnant, as if Father Time had yawned and left the second on its own. He could barely breathe as his blank mind cycled and recycled through the thought.
”We all need something to distract us from the truth.”
Isn’t that what we’re trying to destroy with this? The idea that you should let the truth go? The fall of what was had only begun so that the rise of what should be could take place. To unmask the minds and eyes of the public and make them see, to make them see what was being done to them. To beat them in the skull with it until they wanted to believe, until they had no choice because their hearts could bare to lie to them no longer. Why should he allow her to live in a fantasy? This liar, this infiltrator, this wretch. This hunter. This killer. The best thing that had ever happened to Roy Munin.
Was he any different? He was the liar. He was the deceiver, the killer, the murderer of his own people. He had created a world of lies so that the world may know the truth. He had done injustice so that when the smoke had settled there would be a true sense of it when he was gone. The years of his life had fallen between his fingers like grains of sand, and with them the thoughts and memories that shaped him. Perhaps he had become lost alongside them and the hand was now merely Fate sifting through the debris of his ambition.
What had he done to create a world that was founded on reason but cause atrocities? Perhaps he needed something to distract him from the truth.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Sigfried stood on the peripheral of the banquet. He hadn’t invited Skoll or Hati. He stood in his one and only suit, a dark grey pinstripe with a swirling red damask tie. White shirt. Pointed shoes. His hair had been bound neatly with a few strands falling down in front of his brooding eyes. If anyone were to have noticed him in the shadows of the large room they might think him the Devil peering from the Pit to watch the affairs of mankind.
Roy mingled with bankers and aristocrats up near the stage. The boy had arrived late so he wasn’t sure if he had finished his talk with them yet, and he honestly didn’t mind much to miss that one. He hated these people. These were the people that made the world so terrible as it was then. The very concept of money made his stomach turn. It had lost its meaning, its value. Money was meant to be a representation of work. Work to trade with others for the work that they had done. It had become numbers ticking on the internet. Symbols and complex math, loopholes, mortgages, fucking yachts to men who had done nothing but click and watch the digits dance. It almost made him sick that Roy was able to appeal to them.
Jarka was there, but he hadn’t noticed where she was. He didn’t bother trying to find her. They were better just enjoying the moments as they passed. He saw Roy smiling broadly and patting Victoria on the back as he BSed with some investment tycoon. He really cared about her, a fact that truly baffled him. How had it happened? Something like that wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be possible.
Taking a deep breath, he let go of his thoughts. He began to slither around the edge of the ball. It seemed to be going well. The bankers were talking about what good things would happen, applicable risks, the pitfalls. That was the kind of talk that he wanted to hear. Some had signed on already. He hoped they all would by the end of the night, but he knew they wouldn’t. They were fickle, prudent. That’s how they got their money in the first place, after all.
They casually ate the food that had been provided for them. They did not hem and haw at it; they were used to nice things. They barely noticed the silken sheets that covered the tables or the expensive floral arrangements. They noticed when somebody had left their very bottom button buttoned. Their words stank of the bastardization of mankind.
He had enough of that place, with those people. He had poured his everything in hoping to please these leeches. He needed to prepare for the speech anyways.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Heavy soled shoes padded down the long hallway that lead to Room Eighteen. The leather of gloves squealed as the hand underneath tightened into a fist. The anticipation of the moment curled up inside them like a knot. Reaching into their coat they grasped to object that would put an end to the charade. Put an end to the conflict, the ulterior motives and the conflict of interests. When this lat thing was out of the way, things could finally return to as they should be.
They pulled their hand from the jacket, hiding it behind his back as he knocked on the door a few times. “Just a minute!” Victoria called from within. Anyone could hear her footsteps come. His heart pounded as he waited for the moment. She stopped in front of the door and unlatched the deadbolt. It came to bare. The door opened. It was almost over.
“Roy!” she said in surprise. “I-I wasn’t expecting you until the speech. What are you doing here?” Her eyes danced down over his body and through his arm until her eyes lay upon what he had brought. “What’s this?” She reached forward and plucked the rose from his hand.
“Work for me.” He said softly.
She looked over him with a perplexed stare. “What?” She gave him a moment to answer before following up. “What do you mean? I already work for you.”
“Quit your other job. Work for me full time, I’ll take you away from whatever you’re running from. I can save you, Victoria.” His blue eyes met hers and he pulled at her hand. “Just let me try. Please.”
She stood and looked at him a long time. She had only been halfway through changing her outfits for the two separate events. Her hair tumbled about like taffy at a rough carnival stall. She fidgeted in the doorway, her fingers twirling the flower between them as she sat with indecision.
“Roy… I can’t. I don’t know what Sigfried has told you bu-“
“He hasn’t told me anything. I am here because I want you with me.” His face drooped sadly, but his eyes maintained their stern gaze into hers. “I need you with me.”
Once again the hallway filled with stagnant air. The surge of emotions flowed between them so easily that there may as well have not been words. They were shadows of what the two already knew. The fog that filled the space that separated them became denser and denser until neither could but scarcely breathe. Something welled up inside him, the banks of his stoic attitude flooding. He could feel the water in his eyes, and like a damn breaking so forth flowed the rivers.
“I love you, Victoria.” He stifled a gulping sniffle. “I… I just cannot go one more moment without you.” Tears rushed down his face and pattered on the carpet below. The face that led the nation marred by one person, one woman with bubblegum hair. His trembling hand reached up and brushed her cheek which had also been stained.
He pulled himself towards her and she moved with him into the room, the door closing behind them. He pressed his lips into hers as the miasma of their affection clouded about them. Spiraling down into the trenches of infatuation they worked through the room until they found themselves in each others’ arms on the bed.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
The statue of Bujin overpowered the pavilion where his memorial rested. A Dragonball tucked under his arm, he looked out over the scene with a stoic calm that was present in almost every statue of individuals who had been considered heroes. He had used the Dragonball to make a powerful threat as weak as he was so that other men and women could defeat them. It was a sentiment that Roy wanted to make analogous to his own battles. Drag down those who believe themselves to be mighty and let them face those who suffer under them.
The newly made banner of the ECM fluttered above the stage, a flat green background with a large crow entangled by a brightly colored snake. Its beak was clamped around the serpent’s neck with its talon upon its midsection with the words, “Resistance To Tyrants Is Obedience to Kai” printed underneath. It kicked and flapped loudly, even calling over the sounds of the people below it.
Beneath the flag, all those who had become close to Roy over the past few months sat, well dressed and proper in a collection of seats behind the podium. Sigfried wore his suit, Victoria in a flowing blue dress his segmented sleeves and a neck cover. Jarka had worn a simple business outfit that she had purchased for interviews. She worried about being underdressed, but she knew that she would not be the center of anyone’s attentions. Skoll and Hati each wore opposing outfits, Hati choosing white and Skoll tar black. They sat beside each other calmly observing the situation, their attentions drawn in different directions. Sigfried’s eyes were locked on Roy. The time had almost come for the turning point in this battle.
Not only the memorial, but the streets and city around it were packed building to building, wall to wall, inch to inch with people that had come to see this declaration. It had been publicized as the turning point in the lives of the people of Earth. DA offices had called to papers to attempt to refuse the printing of the story, for fear of riots and chaos, but they had gone unanswered. Nothing, nobody, could stop this event from happening exactly as it had been laid out. It seemed almost impossible to even truly comprehend the volumes of those who had come, but Roy saw into the eyes of each and every one. He felt as though he knew them, as though he could stretch out his mind and touch every last soul that followed him to this place, at this time.
He strode from behind the curtain of the stage and into the public eye, and for miles the sound of cheering could be heard. It washed over him like a wave, his chest vibrating at the sheer immensity of it. He smiled, seeing his wishes coming to fruition before his very eyes. It wasn’t that they were there for him that made him happy. No, it was the concept that people’s minds had begun to change. And change for the better. They had rallied as one people under one flag for a purpose that was purely unselfish: To save the Earth from itself. To save the Earth from themselves before it was too late to save.
Bright eyes of couples, children, the elderly. The glowed and beamed under his eye. They were untarnishable within his radiance. Their souls knew only hope when they saw him and were filled with the compassion and drive to make the planet a better place to be in.
His thick fingers slid across the fine wood of the podium and he leaned in towards the microphone. He did not have to quiet the people, no, they shushed themselves in his mere presence.
“People of Earth.”
A heartbeat quivers the muzzle after a final breath is taken.
“It is time for us each to look our lives, to look into ourselves.”
Slow pressure is slowly added, careful to pull strait back.
“I think it is the end of everything as we know it.”
The bullet struck before the sound of the shot could be heard. Roy fell backwards stiffly, his limbs locking out strait as his head bobbled back and forth from the force of the blast. Red spattered the stage and stained across Victoria’s soft blue dress. His knees buckled underneath him and he struck the wooden planks below with no resistance. Thick, red humor leaked in between the boards as he lay there, no life left in his eyes.
In shock of the event, it seemed as though the entire universe had stopped moving for an instant, and within the bellies of every person there came down a stone that sank.
Sigfried shouted something as the two brothers rose from their chairs and began to pull Jarka back behind the stage, covering her body with their own. The well dressed boy ran and kneeled over Roy, encapsulating the man’s form with his own. He began to drag the man away by his arms, limp dead weight making the red streak that bled out from under him crooked and wild as he struggled.
Another two shots rang out into the air, one splintering the platform next to the two and another biting into Sigfried’s back and shoulder with a puff of blood vapor. Coughing heavily, he lurched over and drug the body and himself from the open of the platform. There, the two lay together for what seemed like an eternity.
You almost wouldn’t be able to tell, from the front. Sigfried took a moment to see it and he was inches away from Roy’s face. But there it was, a tiny hole just past the man’s hairline. There was no blood here, but as he reached his hand around to check for an exit wound, his hand returned a gory, terrible mess.
Victoria still sat, staring through the event, shocked. A fleck of blood rest on her cheek and it slowly began to trail down, dripping from her chin. Her fluttering eyes followed it to its resting place. Her breath trembled, and tears balanced on the edges of her eyelids, threatening to leap. Choking for air, she sucked in deeply one last time before the cascade began, her sobbing now audible if you stood but a few inches away.
Sigfried slowly stood, and smeared blood and tears from his face. “Victoria.” He murmured. “Victoria.” He looked through the crack and saw her still sat, weeping madly, her hands curled into balls on her lap. “VICTORIA!” He screamed and he jumped, now looking at the boy.
“Go-" His voice caught in his throat. "Go and kill them."
[M][Earth] Of the People - Victoria - 01-16-2011
Love was a foreign word. An expressive word to place some symbolical meaning to the feeling of overwhelming nausea fluttering about in one's stomach. It was a feeling that could make toes curl, palms turn damp, and the world slow to an crawl. Their bubble couldn't be penetrated by invaders, government politics, or company standards. Lies had been threaded between the softest of words and emotions, a tangled web, but there was a true purpose that remained beneath it all. This purpose made Victoria's toes curl, and palms become damp. Her fingers uncoiled at her sides and the door shut. Another door was opening, a new world, a place to start and grow like never before.
What if...
The bedsheets felt different than before against her back, as if this new feeling made reality thick and pulsing, perfectly wound up. She hooked her leg against his calf as his body loomed over hers, the dimly lit room casting a radiant glow that was every bit romantic. Locked lips meshed together like a puzzle piece, perfectly placed. These lips made her heart skip, thumping as a drum within her ribcage. A breath hitched in her throat when they parted, only to reunite with fervent passion. Such a thing that could make the girl release a most exquisite of noises from within.
What if I could...do this...
Somehow, with Roy's strength, the girl was slid up along silken sheets to the headboard. A manly thing, a good thing, to tangle their bodies flush against the mattress. Slender digits lifted to become entangled within dark mahogany lochs. Her back arched against the covers of her hotel bed, cherry blossom hair a mess around her body. The blue of her dress inched up her creamy thigh, exposing flesh that had been sighted before, yet now appeared so much more sublime.
Victoria had never been close to anyone, not like this, except for Joal. Her old partner, the one that had cracked her open like an old dust covered book. All of her pages were worn by the years of abuse and terror that she had been subjected to. It had made her a scared little girl, and the only man she could find comfort with had been ripped from her arms. There were no letters, no notes in the wind, just silence. All she had was her job, her calling, and her leader. This...this was far from that. It was so far. She needed to feel alive, feel something within her electrified body. Jolts of feelings riddled her perfect body now, and the touch upon her bare thigh made her spine feel ever so tingly.
The tip of his tongue dipped into her mouth, past her lips, tasting her mouth. Wine had been consumed during the banquet. A sip here, and there, it barely made her mind buzz. Victoria could taste the sweet nectar on his tongue and openly kissed him with equal vigor. Her other hand trailed along his perfectly ironed dress shirt, gripping it with her dainty hand. It felt so good. This moment was wonderfully perfect, a time that she had long forgotten. Joal had only stirred these emotions, and now Roy was reawakening those sensations. His body aligned between her strong thighs, so much of him pressing upon her. It was all she could do not to tremble in the wake of what could come.
“R-Roy...” she whispered against his lips, her palm opening to press against the material of his shirt.
A warm hand trailed a heated path beneath the azure fabric, fingertips grazing against the edge of panties never having been seen.
I...I want this, but...
Victoria's hands moved to the sides of the politicians face, and her plush lips plucked and nibbled upon his. He was doing a number on her without even trying. The hunter instinctively tilted her hips to grind upwards. Much needed friction, groans mingled in the air, and a storm brewed. Downwards that flimsy lacy undergarment began to trail against smooth flesh, she wiggled, and she let loose the faintest of girlish whines.
“I...I'm a virgin.”
Roy Munin stared down at her, his hands against the blankets, a look she had seen once already. “You...don't want to?”
Victoria's hands smoothed down from his face to his shoulders. “I want to, I do,” a dark blush lit her cheeks, her eyes shyly lowered to gaze away, teeth sunken against her bottom lip. “I...I just want it to be special. The speech...”
“Yes, of course,” the soft frown began to transform into the kindest of smiles. It all made sense, now. Victoria was a young woman, and he wanted to treat her right. That's how it should be. A fairytale romance. Candlelight, a little wine, some soft music...whatever ran through his mind, it was anyone's guess. Victoria simply peeked up at his handsome visage with her rose-kissed cheeks and wavering eyes.
“I feel the same.”
“You do?”
“I...haven't felt like this, in here,” she touched her chest where the blue dress held snug to her bosom. “Tight, as if I could burst, it makes me happy, Roy,” her voice was a soft whisper.
“You love me?” an equal whisper, and his larger hand hovered away from the sheets to settle upon hers. Knees helped support his body between her lovely thighs, one hand supporting his upper weight against the mattress.
“Y-yes, I think so,” a small nod with her words. Victoria didn't know up from down, now, she hadn't ever uttered the word. Love wasn't for her. She had no one, nothing...except this. Yes, unlike being a butterfly in a jar, this was her choice. Roy wasn't forcing her, he was asking her. “I love you,” she said, staring up at him. It was the only way she could express how she felt. That was what those words were meant for.
--
Drip...drip...
“Victoria!”
Splat...drip...
“Victoria!”
Drip...
“VICTORIA!”
Tears glisten against eyelashes like long lost jewels. They slid loose with a torrent that could not be abated by triage, could not be dashed away, for they would never leave. This would never leave, this feeling, this heart wrenching - pulling her entire being, every fiber, out and into a blender – feeling. A loud noise lifted from her throat, a guttural primal noise that could have made soldiers piss themselves. The chair shot back powerfully off the stage once she stood, leaped, fists tight at her sides. His blood...it was everywhere, it was in her hair, on her face, under her feet. The blue of her dress was stained with him, stained purple.
A scream, if that's what it could be called. It left her in anguish, in pain, so much agony that she had never felt before. Victoria had been burned alive, sliced open, lost and broken limbs...but this, this, was the worst pain of all. This was a wound she would never be able to heal. It was a pain, an emotion, that she had never learned to prepare for in all her years as a hunter. A door had been closed, a new door had been opened, and then it was blown off the hinges and dashed from the cosmos.
Victoria was pissed.
“Why do you love me?” her legs straddled his lap as he sat against the headboard, hands resting upon strong shoulders. They had some time...
“Because...well, you believed me. You know? This just all started happening the moment you joined me on that box,” Roy licked his lips and settled his palms to her waist.
“Roy,” a pause, “this is a little cliché.”
The people ran, they fled like sheep. Electricity flew from her body, crackling outwards with her boiling emotions. A brilliant white aura flared to life, blazing pure white, ebbing and flowing with the sparks that seared from her pale flesh. Winds kicked up, chairs overturned from the abrupt force of her rising power. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to die. Roy was supposed to live, lead the world into a golden age. Roy was supposed to rise up, become mayor, and inspire the people towards truth, rise against the man. Roy was supposed to...be with Victoria. He was supposed to heal her wounds that could not be mended, make her feel alive.
The ground cracked beneath her feet. Civilians screamed, cried, fled the scene. Flicking eyes darted to the distance were tall buildings surrounded the memorial grounds. Three to the left, four to the right, and one directly in front. These were the ones...the enemies, her targets. The hunter found herself shaking, trembling, bloody and distraught. Kill them...she had to. There was nothing else, she had to, because she was a weapon.
“You make me smile...you make me feel like I'm a real girl, a person.”
“But you are,” a thumb grazed her bottom lip, a loving motion from the older man.
“You know what I mean, Roy. There's so much that I want to say, to tell you, but I can't...” she whispered and one of her hands leisurely lifted to his. She grasped his fingers and kissed the pad of his thumb.
“I understand, Victoria, we all have things...”
“You make me believe that I can be something else. I...want this, I want to tell you things that I never told anyone else. I could work for you, I could change...I could do this, no, I will,” Victoria's brows furrowed, and then her face softened. As Roy Munin slide his hand from her grasp to touch upon her cheek, she leaned forth, and their mouths reconnected in a saccharine meeting of their tongues.
Slender fingers trailed down the ruined dress, the flow of the hem, and up along her leg. There, nestled discretely upon a strap was the smallest of hand guns, but not just any gun. The cold silver was small and shaped in such a way that it couldn't have a barrel. Instead, fitted to the void within the device was a small vial that glowed with pure, intense energy. The black and red swirled like molten rock that flickered with an inner flame. She pulled it from her thigh, beneath the dress. Had Roy trailed his hand along this leg, rather than the other, she would have been found out...how close, how insignificant it all seemed, now that he was dead. Nothing mattered at all.
The end of the gun was pressed to her thigh, the trigger engaged, and all of the raw power was pressed into her body like a drug. It coursed through her, filled her veins, her essence, invoked the very depth of her soul. Within her core, the resting technology long-since unused, awoke with an influx of surging strength. Victoria's faceted eyes, as blue as the sky, opened wide with the sudden release. The height of her aura extended, a sudden push to welcome her strength. The transformation was only noticeable now by those who could read the power bursting from her center. Wisps of the white energy, entwined with pink, floated from her like mist and steam, most prominent from her back. What could only be the most faint of wings glittered like stardust with each flicker and tug of the released exhaust. For Roy, she would do this, even if it meant exposing herself. If only she could have told him the truth...
Speed like this had yet to be seen, not even the invader could have seen this during their attacks. Victoria was leaping high into the air with a push of her strength, cement cracking further beneath dainty – once harmless – feet. Hands and feet clung to the brick wall of the complex building, and she pushed from the exterior to find grip against the next building. The three, first. She pulled her body over the brim to find them pointing guns at her direction.
“Stay back!
“We'll shoot!”
“Do it!” she cried and ran from the edge. Her long hair flowing back with the wild flames of her aura. Arching bolts of lightning snapped at the first male, dressed in all black. A swat team, maybe, but Victoria didn't care. It was over, it was all over. She grabbed his face with her palm and his entire body flopped like a fish out of the water. Every reaching arm, like the hands of Kai himself, zapped and gripped the target, frying him from the inside out. Smoke curled into the air, a devils cigarette, death was thick to be smelt.
“Shoot me!” she roared, throwing the body to the side. “You fuckin' cowards!”
The next one, shot through the shoulder, through the head. Electricity flooded through the air from fake hand-guns, formed by fingers poised. His cries of anguish cut off whilst blood misted the sky like a dying rainbow. Her foot snapped out toward the advancing sharp-shooter, cracking him powerfully in the masked face and making him fly into the nearest rooftop garden. Leaping steps had the femme fatal pinned to the male, fist lifted, and then shot down.
“Let's have dinner tonight, you have a way with words...it will go well, so we should celebrate.”
Blood pooled the soil of the garden, her fist lifting, falling, pounding, retracting. Bones cracked, cartilage snapped, brain matter oozed out from the ripped face mask and the goggles were all but shattered and embedded in destroyed features. Droplets of blood sprang up from the carnage and onto her pretty face, gritted teeth, angry raging eyes, all but lost to insanity.
“You're probably right...and I wouldn't ask anyone else to join me for dinner, but you. In fact, I look forward to having many breakfasts, lunches, and dinners with you. I meant what I said...I'll take you away, I'll save you, if you let me.” Roy's hands began to thread through her long hair, words pressed to her lips.
The next targets, four, all beginning to flee the scene. She ran across the rooftop and took a leap across the gap. Tiles were crushed in the landing of her body, crouched, the hunter was ready to pounce. First was the one target, the one that had been alone here on this building facing the scene – the crime – for perfect accuracy. Yes, this was the one.
“You.”
Victoria's feet had become bare, shoes lost in the fray. She ran after the assassin, his body turned in sudden show of courage after what he had just witnessed. Bullets rang out. Those bullets...bullets that were brothers to the killers. The girl was pushed back half an inch, her shoulder inclined, blood splattering from the fresh wound that mingled with torn fabric. Crimson leaked down her dress, combining with Roy's, the only form of love they could ever have. A blood bath.
“Die.”
She continued, her movement hardly slowing, even as another bullet lodged itself into her abdomen just above her kidney. Once more, a shot filled the air, and it missed her by inches. She reached with a hand and fingers coiled against the fleeing, black clad male's wrist. A jerk had him forward, her hand snapping with the two motions, colliding with his falling body toward her. The pale appendage broke through with a blaze of energy, ripping cloth, flesh, bones, and there it was.
“Now.”
A force was exerted and from the pull of her hand, a blood curdling scream, murder had never been so sweet. Victoria's hand returned from the depth of her victim's chest cavity with her prize. Gore dripped and oozed from the body, from her hand, a gooey mess that ended with fingers wrapped around what could only be the humanoid's spine.
“That's what it means to be a spineless coward, you fucking piece of shit,” she swore, she cried, she kicked at his lifeless head again and again. With a drop she let the linked bones and tissue join its creator, and she was off again. Like a demon across the building, the last stop, those whom she would slaughter in her rampage.
Cement exploded in a flurry of smoke, her fingers lifted, bullets burning the air and cutting off their escape. They had a head start, they could see the bright aura, smell the blood in the air. Two of them were down the side, two remained. One hand shifted and a brilliant pink light swelled at the tip before exploding forth. The man screamed, it connected with his torso, making him shake and stare in perpetual awe. He wondered, was he saved? Was he immortal?
Blood, flesh, and gore flew out across the building and against the other target as the victim exploded brutally from inside out. Victoria didn't miss a beat, she ran at the survivor with feet padding in puddles of scarlet.
“We've only known each other for such a short time,” she said shyly, a timid look, she was so small in his lap. Her cheek settled to his chest, her nostrils smelling the rich scent of his cologne. It was like wood chips and rain.
“We have a long time ahead of us, don't you worry, I have a plan for everything. I wouldn't be so smart if I didn't.” A hand smoothed along her hair, this was a moment, a peaceful moment. The speech was due soon, too soon, but they...would have a long time. That's what he had said.
“Roy?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
A massive dome of electricity spread out across the rooftop. Her hair floated, her fingers against the last of the fiend's neck. Well, two had gotten away, fled the area in a nondescript vehicle. It burned, it infuriated her. She would hunt them down, she would-
“Fucking freak!”
A click.
Ping-ting!
The grenade exploded within the dome, and as it did, a second explosion of pure electric energy consumed the rooftop, crumbled the cement, and made smoke rise into the heavens. It all disappeared. The light, the power, it all began to fade. Winds sucked inward, dust and smoke lifting in various places on the surprisingly intact rooftop like fingers. Aside from a crumbling crater where the impact had taken place, it was all singed and burnt.
Covered in it, dress ripped and torn where a nasty burning wound left her lower torso a mess of blood, barely staying upon her slender body, the girl crawled over the edge of the building and fell toward the ground. She wasn't sure how many stories, or how much it hurt when she landed on the grass, but she was there. Eyes peered toward the sky. It was a beautiful day, the perfect day for a perfect speech.
Speech...all you ever did was talk. I didn't even get to hear it. Was it grand? Was it spectacular?
Tears dribbled down burnt skin, damaged hair limp, lost its shine, surrounding her body. Ribs were broken, a femur shattered, but...she had to.
Victoria limped, crawled, made her way back to the murder. Bare broken hands patted at the blood, all there...but he was gone. “Where is he?” she asked through her hot tears, voice as broken as her tattered dress and damaged bleeding body. “Where is he?” she looked at Sigfried, staring, always staring at her. The girl gripped his collar, that ridiculous red sweater was gone. A suit, but it wasn't like Roy's. This was just some kid. “Where is he?”
“They took...” he trailed off when Victoria let loose the most pathetic cry to leave her lips. This wasn't a warrior, a bounty hunter. This was a girl.
She fell to the bloody puddle where he had lain, and knelt, falling forward, brow to the crimson.
This was a real girl, a person.
Maybe Mr. Munin was right. He didn't know this girl at all, but he was right. She was real. Feelings so real, emotions so real, everything that made her a weapon washed away in the wake of reality. Victoria had been in love, curse the word, but it was true. In a matter of a month she had been living in a fantasy that Jeremy could never give. Victoria wept for that fantasy, and for herself. What's left?
“Victoria...”
Whoever it was, she didn't care. She let her tears mingle with the blood beneath her. This was a wound that would never, ever, heal.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Sigfried Hunin - 01-17-2011
Sigfried sat there, his arm still held as if Roy was within them. False blood was awash everywhere. He wondered why he was so dizzy. The entire world swirled, and for the longest time he couldn’t remember why Roy had disappeared. The voice of his revolution. The man that pulled his dreams together.
His head weaved a bit, bobbing towards the ground. With a strain he lifted it up again and gazed out over the stage. There, the charred, scarred, bloody remains of the sweet rose haired girl waded in her love’s blood. He had not seen what she had done, but he assumed it could only have been horrible. There were still the screams of the crowd echoing out into the air. Everything was so confusing, like mud had been swirled over his brain.
He outstretched a hand weakly, his bloody fingers extending out. “Victoria…” He called to her. Something in the back of his brain was screaming out to her. It was clawing at the walls of his skull, trying to escape. A thought bouncing off the bones behind his sinuses. He felt his body pulling in different directions, as if it was at war with itself.
Skoll and Hati had been pulling Jarka from the scene towards their provided transportation, her head constantly on the swivel to see the terror again. She looked over and over, as if she saw it differently it may not ever have happened. Skoll suddenly turned and looked back at Sigfried, an understanding and concerned look spreading over him. He trotted back and knelt down beside him, wrapping a blanket around.
He hefted the young man up and rushed him towards the car, but his eyes were still locked upon the woman matted in death. “Victoria…” he murmured once again before closing off his sight.
Two familiar voices greeted him in the dark.
“I know, man. I understand. Things will get better soon.”
“Quiet now, everything is alright, Sigfried. Soon you’ll remember what all this is for.”
It was a swirl of sounds within the car. He couldn’t seem to bring himself to peel his eyes open, but his ears were so acutely aware that there was something going on around him. There were words being spoken, and the soft sound of tears. Shouting, somewhere, about something unknowable. He felt himself being jostled around, and his head being turned and inspected. Why were they looking at his head?
The sounds slowly dimmed until he was lost in the blackness. There was nothing around him, nothing to see and nothing to hear. He wasn’t all alone though. He had himself to keep the company. He was in many different places, all seeing different things. Experiencing different emotions and thinking different thoughts. His mind spread out into the universe like the roots of a mighty tree…
Accursed he was to remember the sight of Victoria, alone on the stage. All he had wanted was to go to her, to kneel beside her and say… something. Anything. He couldn’t think of anything he could say. “I’m sorry”? “I understand”? He was sorry. He did understand. How could he say that to her? The woman who he had destroyed from the inside out. He was terrified to comfort her, for fear that she might let her rage be known to him and wipe him from existence forever.
He was moving somewhere, the creaking of a door long uncared for. He was laid gently down upon something soft and springy. His arm slipped from his side and struck the carpet below. He just wanted to be still. Death seemed to be upon him, and his weary mind was almost ready to allow the sweet embrace to consume him.
He heard the voices of himself again, echoing now from the outside. “We have taken your pain… You’re back.”
Sigfried’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and he saw the speckled white ceiling of the basement and smelled the familiar stink of the smoky couch that lay beneath him. He rolled to his side and tossed his legs down onto the carpet below. He took in a deep breath before releasing it. Skoll and Hati stood beside him, each with a solemn look on their face.
“Jarka is in her room.” Hati informed him. Sigfried nodded and cracked his neck painfully.
He blinked a few times and pressed his fingers into his eyelids. “What the hell happened?” His voice cracked as thought it was new, being used for the first time.
“Roy got shot in the head, Sigfried.” Skoll’s voice was as stern as it could be when speaking to Sigfried. “You shouldn’t have done it. You took part of the injury. You could have died.”
The boy looked down to his clothing and found they had once again shifted back to his natural red hoodie, grey beater and jeans. He brushed them off once before standing to his feet. “I had to.” He began to remember the scene now. “I couldn’t have Victoria finding the body. Kai, what a wreck that would have been.”
Hati hopped in place impatiently before stepping after Sigfried. “What the fuck happened man?!” He was angry and confused, emotions too vastly evident to ignore. “That wasn’t part of the plan, was it? That wasn’t supposed to happen, right?”
Skoll put a hand on his chest and held a finger to his lips, shushing his brother. “I don’t think it was. Give him a second, man…”
Sigfried leaned forward against the shoddy oven with both hands and shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I really just… I don’t know.”
The sound of the old room opening turned all of their heads to see a tear soaked Jarka standing confusedly in the door frame. “Are you ok?” she sobbed, thick words bubbling from her concern. She pointed to him with a crook in her eyebrows. “What happened to your clothes?” She took a few steps forward, her expression changing from confusion to anger. “And what happened to your head?”
“Yes, why don’t you tell her, Sigfried?” The voice came from behind them, deep and foreboding.
There stood a dark figure, a large rifle in his right hand. “Why don’t you tell her what all this means, huh?” He took a few steps forward, tossing his helmet into the corner. “Or would that ruin things for you?” He unzipped his black leather jacket with a jerk. He looked out across the room as eyes began to fire up with rage. “Oh? What? Am I interrupting something here?”
Sigfried pointed at the door to his old room but kept his gaze upon the intruder. “Jarka, get back in the room.” His voice was low, commanding. She simply stood there, shaking her head slowly.
“Don’t tell the lady what to do, Sigs mah boy!” The strange, ambiguously figured man grinned. “Don’t you think she deserves to know?” He stared through the space between them and into the young woman’s eyes. “Especially after she told her little secret to you the other day.”
“Get in the room, Jarka!” Sigfried shouted now, thrusting his finger at the room again. She simply stared on at the man as he stalked ever closer.
He slowly stripped the jacket from himself and let it hit the floor. “Don’t worry, Jarka, your secret is safe with me.” He chuckled and let his eyes trail back over to the boy. “It’s him you should be worried about.”
“Jarka!” Sigfried screamed at the top of his lungs, “Get the fuck in that room!” She suddenly turned, new tears springing forth and slammed the door behind her.
Sigfried took up a quick stalk towards the man, boiling hatred spewing up from inside of him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He reached a hand out to shove the man, but he quickly brought the massive rifle up to bear at his face.
“I don’t think so, compadre.” His teeth grit, and he breathed quickly, but he kept his cool. “You stay right the fuck where you are.” He took a few nervous steps back. “I’m not going back in, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“The fuck you aren’t.”
The man scoffed and looked around. “And what makes you think I will?”
Sigfried’s eyes squinted and his head tilted to the side slightly, that mock confusion that came when somebody was being petulant against and authority. “Oh? And what makes you think that? Your little gun? Really?” He took a for steps towards the gun that was pointed at his face. “I can make you drop it, right here and now. I don’t need to touch you.”
The man’s scoff was obviously false, his terror spreading through him like a disease. “You- you can’t anymore. I’ve changed. I’m better. I’m different.”
Sigfried turned away, showing his back as he threw his hands up dramatically. He spun quickly and faced him once again. “No you fucking aren’t. You’re just like all the rest of them.” He laughed softly to himself. “You- You don’t even have a name. I didn’t give you one.” His eyes burned into the stranger. “That’s how unimportant you are.”
The man’s face contorted in pain and confusion. “No…” He pleaded. “That’s not-“
“Go on, think of your name,” Sigfried challenged him. “What is it?” The man started to part him lips, but he was cut off. “I made it so that your automatic response was to resist interrogation if your dumb ass got caught. You don’t have a name.”
“Fuck you!” The black clad assassin swore, threatening to pull the trigger.
Sigfried shook his head at the melodrama. “You’re not going to shoot me. You don’t even know what would happen. Hell I don’t know what would happen.” He waved his hand downward. “Just put it down.”
The man allowed the weapon to fall to his side before it slipped from his fingers. He stood there, a hollow look on his face. “I’m not going back in.”
Sigfried ignored the man’s comment and went forward with his own inquiry. “What the fuck happened? Why did you do it?” He pointed to himself. “You shot me. Twice.”
The strange individual smirked. “You gave me too much, I guess. You gave me self awareness. Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”
Sigfried alit with a new unholy type of emotion, something that mankind could not have known before he himself had exhibited it. “Gave you too much? Too much?” He began to cackle, his voice reverberating off of the wall terribly. “I gave you too little.” He gestured to the man and spit. “If you had more put into you, you might not have been so fucking stupid.”
“I’m better than you’ll ever be!” Spit flung from his mouth in retort.
“YOU ARE ME!” The youth’s voice crept from his throat and exploded out like a thousand pounds of dynamite. “And you weren’t supposed to kill him! You were meant to miss and be seen by those stupid bastard media crews!” He felt his heart pounding in his chest, threatening to tear out of his ribcage. “Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve ruined everything. You’ve destroyed Victoria too! Why?” He almost begged for an answer. “Why did you do that?”
He stared at the ground. “Because I didn’t want to go back. To become nothing again.” He looked up to the man commanding him so oddly. “I learned how to do something that you couldn’t, too. I made them real, permanent.”
Sigfried blinked for a moment, his bewilderment to be made evident. “What do you mean? You mean that you learned how to split?”
He grinned a wicked grin and spat back an answer. “You think I wouldn’t? I’m not stupid, Sigfried. I figured out how to do it better, too.”
“You learned everything from me. There is nothing that you can do that I am not capable of.” Sigfried began to pace away from the individual in his living room. “To think that I’m unaware of what I can do with this is infantile.” He cast back a cold glare at him. “Too much…” He spat into the ground.
“Well, they’re all dead now.” He smirked as though he was winning the fight. “And look at me! I’m not.”
Spinning on his heel, the red cloaked young man looked into his eyes. “You aren’t alive. You’re nothing. You are a fraction of a fraction. I could, and trust me, I will, take you all back and I would have a few nicks. Nothing else. You don’t have enough put into you.”
The man curled his fists and prepared one final statement. He could feel it coming like a tornado. “Do you always talk to yourself like that?”
“Only when I’m being stupid.” With that, the man vanished as though he had never been.
Exhausted, Sigfried mulled over towards the couch and fell down into it. Skoll and Hati stood on the other side of the coffee table in front of him and looked down at him. “Hey man, are you alright?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine… I just need a minute alone.” He smirked and looked up to the two. “Hey, could you go and get us some booze? Something soft. I don’t wanna choke on any vodka or anything like that tonight.”
“Sure thing, boss.” The two began to walk towards the door, Skoll holding the door open for Hati. “Be back in a little bit.”
Sigfried nodded as the two left him alone in the room. He let out another long breath and rubbed his temples slowly. The cut and wounds from the others had already faded, their existence forgotten like a passing breeze.
What would he do now? He would have to lead this on his own now. He couldn’t be so smooth like Roy though. He couldn’t bring everything together as flawlessly as Roy did. He simply didn’t have the social patience. He was the only one out of any of them that had too much. Too much swimming around in his head, too much taunting him. He was incapable of spreading himself thinly, to dilute his anger and distrust. He had seen the truth of the matter that was the world and could not pretend he hadn’t seen it. He couldn’t make people follow him because he hated the ignorance that lead them. How can you simultaneously hate people and want to lead them from their ignorance? Roy did it.
He could do anything they could.
There was the sudden sound of the door cracking open from across the room. He could hear her crying inside from the desk. The lock must not have engaged all the way. Strange how it seems the universe demands your attention to certain people, certain places and times. He hefted himself from the sofa and dragged himself towards the entryway. He did not anticipate liking this. He expected to hate it. It would be emotionally gory, and she might try to kill him. Thankfully for him, she wasn’t very good with her powers yet.
He didn’t bother knocking, but rather just pushed it open and stood in the space between rooms. He saw her sat there, her face buried in her hands, sniffling. It had to be hard, everything at once like this. It was never really that hard for Sigfried. He had it all happen gradually. Safely and on his own terms. He loved his powers, and he loved learned about them. When he figured it out it was like a prayer had been answered. He was something more than everyone else. He had something nobody else had. But it seemed like Jarka wore her skills like a burden.
He wanted to tell her that what she had made her special, that it made her better. Her mind could reach into reality and alter it. Sigfried could only change himself. He wondered which skill, at its mastery, would be have more potential. He saw some pamphlets in her room. She must have been messing with them before they left for the speech but didn’t have time to clean them up. Why would she, now that Sigfried knew? It must have been liberating to let her dirty little secret out in the air like that. In the light of day it wouldn’t seem so dirty.
“Jarka,” his voice started without even his noticing. “I don’t think you understand just yet. I hope you can get a hold on it all.” He was talking without thinking first. Words were just tumbling out of his throat and through his lips. “You know, you’re not the first person to know that I can do things, but you’re the first friend I’ve had in a really long time.”
She looked up at him, face laced in snot and tears. “What?”
He continued on without any heed to her confusion. “You- It was really hard to do this. It was like, taking the whole world up in your hands.” He cupped his hands up as though he Earth was a tiny ball he could scoop out of the sky. “I made sacrifices. I changed. I did a lot of things I regret.” He paused for a moment, still staring blankly. “That’s a lie. I don’t regret them. They had to be done.” He stared down at her, empty. “Do you get that? Nobody ever got hurt. Nobody except me, that is.” He smiled shyly. “I mean, that’s the way it was suppose to be.”
He huffed and traced his finger along the door. “I mean, mistakes were made. Not a lot of them, but, you know, there they are. Some people got hurt.” He glanced to her quickly. “I’m mostly worried about Victoria. Not just because of the plan or anything, but because, well, man, I really hurt that girl.” He jiggled his head back in forth as though in disbelief. “Fuck I don’t know what she is, but I know that I wish it hadn’t happened to her that way.”
He suddenly exploded in energy, pacing around the room. “It’s like, no matter what the world is going to grind you up and spit you out, you know?” He clenched his fists and stared up at the ceiling. “No matter what you do you’re just fucked.”
Jarka turned in her chair and cast a baleful glare. “What are you talking about?”
He stopped and looked her in the eye. “I…” He caught himself. After a moment of choking on his own words, they finally won him over and beat through his teeth and into the world. “I’m everyone, Jarka.”
Her face only grew more perplexed, her confusion frustrating and hurting her even more than what had already been done.
“I’m Roy.” He paused, allowing it to sink in. “I’m Skoll and Hati. I’m the sniper and I’m the aliens.” He gazed at her as she sat, blankly observing him. “I. Am. Everyone.”
[M][Earth] Of the People - Jarka - 01-18-2011
Jarka stared at Sigfried, her face blank. Her mouth opened, but she said nothing – there was nothing to say. Her mind could not wrap around a single damning thought. She didn’t want it to. If it did, that would mean…
In the wake of her silence, Sigfried began to visibly crumble from his haggard confidence. He looked exhausted, broken. Like he wanted to cry but couldn’t find the tears. His fingers twisted through his hair, anxiously tugging at the scalp. His sunken eyes clenched shut, unable to tolerate her lack of response. Finally, his voice breaking, he pleaded to the girl, “Say something.”
Jarka slowly shook her head. Her eyebrows knotted as the emotions finally began to catch up with the reality she could no longer deny. She drew her lip between her teeth, chewing it with her pulsing thoughts. Everything had been a lie. Everything. He’d planned every last detail, every last deception. She could feel the anger welling in her throat. Seething. Aching to burst out.
The girl began a mad dash towards the kitchen sink. Vomit spilled from her mouth, leaving her sputtering chunks until only bile remained. The girl wheezed as she watched the former contents of her stomach dribbled towards the drain. She felt Sigfried’s hand timidly rest on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her as he had so many times in the past months.
Jarka threw her elbow back, knocking away the boy’s arm. Her teeth ground together as she hissed, “Don’t you dare touch me.”
She spat a final glob of yellow saliva before rinsing her burning mouth with a quick shot of water from the running faucet. The liquid splashed through the messy basin, carrying half-digested chunks of her dinner down the drain to be forgotten once more. She wished she could join them, dissolve into the dark recesses nobody dares explore. She certainly could relate to being chewed up, spit out, and slowly torn apart. As the acrid smell began to sting her nostrils, she stepped away from the sink.
Sigfried’s elbows rested on the counter top; one palm cradled his forehead. If he noticed the girl’s approach, his posture did not reflect it.
“Look at me.” Her voice was chilly, sharp but fragile.
His only movement was the expansion and contraction of his ribcage, barely visible beneath that stupid red sweatshirt.
Flesh against tile, her palm slapped the counter. The crack echoed through the empty apartment, forming a descant against her enraged growl. “Look at me!”
The boy remained stagnant.
“You owe me that much.”
A sharp intake of breath accompanied tensing fingers scratching across the surface of the linoleum. His gaze dragged to the girl hovering menacingly by his side. The girl who had hovered so fondly on his every word not one day ago. The girl who had trusted him. The girl he had betrayed.
The only sound in the room came from the clock’s steady ticking while the eyes of the psychic and the shape-shifter remained locked. Tick. Confounded hazel condemned enfeebled blue. Tick. Tense bodies quivered with each breath, yet the steady gaze remained. Tick. She tentatively slid her hand to the back of his head. Tick. Moisture. Her eyes flashed horror as fingers laced through slicked locks. Tick. The girl saw her trembling palm soaked in blood. Tick. Grasping his head, she swooped in to frantically search for the origin, the wound. Tick. Pristine scalp stained sanguine. Impossible.
Jarka gaped at the boy in horror, in disgust. Her reddened hands begged to him until she briefly found the nerve to speak. “How is- how is-”
Sigfried gently grasped her hands, seemingly unsure of how to best respond. Despite an increasingly knotted brow, his gaze never faltered as he studied the girl’s bewildered countenance. He brushed her palms along his sleeve to wipe them clean. At last, he sighed.
She watched in disbelief as his beloved crimson sweatshirt and dingy jeans began to shift, turning darker, deeper, black. The fabric smoothed and contracted, its boundaries twisting to form new hemlines and collars. The process made her eyes itch; she would have averted them had it not been so mesmerizing. There he stood, the boy with the plan in a three-piece suit.
She saw his eyes change from their dusky blue to iridescent green to the placid wash of a sunset. His skin turned olive, wrinkled, scarred. A thousand faces shimmered past in a few short breaths.
She felt the palms of his hands become thicker, smoother. From his upper lip, translucent hairs sprouted outward. His pupils faltered, pinching into slits. Fur rippled along his body as he shrunk, his paws landing gently on the ground.
The fluffy calico twitched its tail expectantly. Jarka stumbled backwards, failing to clumsily catch herself on the way to the floor. The cat pattered forward and rubbed its shoulder against her limp wrist.
A moment later, Sigfried was crouched with her hand in his. He drew her palm to his scalp. Dry. Her eyes flashed amazement as her fingers laced through clean locks. No evidence of the sickening mess. Her hands explored his face, stroking his cheeks, his forehead. Making sure he was real.
“You’re... you’re like me.” As they had so many times already this fateful day, her eyes welled. “You’re different. You have powers.”
A small smile struggled its way onto his distraught visage. “I discovered them a while back. On my own. Like you.”
“Why’d you wait so long to tell me?”
He gave a slight shrug. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”
She threw herself around his shoulders, squeezing tightly. It was all so overwhelming, so confusing, so deafening, yet it was here on the kitchen floor of a dingy apartment that she felt relief. She was cradled by the one person she had ever met who understood her struggle. Her kindred spirit. It was at this time, this moment, that she knew definitively she was not alone, regardless of any other circumstance surrounding them. She could forget about everything else. She wanted this to last forever. To never leave this embrace. To never lose her friend. She knew it was too perfect.
At last, Sigfried pulled away, amicably resting his head against hers. He appeared relieved, but something still tugged at each breath.
Unanswered questions still plucked at Jarka’s mind as she snuggled against his shoulder. Don’t ask. You’ll regret it. Perfection never lasts. Better to know the truth. “What else can you do?”
“I can survive things that could kill a man. I have survived things that would kill a man.” His terse answer reflected his mysterious experiences. “I can heal my injuries like they never happened. Fresh skin, new bones.”
She rolled the information through her mind. Something wouldn’t sit right, wouldn’t settle. “You said before... You said you were everybody.”
A pause preceded his flat response. “I am.”
“But... I’ve seen you together. Hati, Skoll, R- ” The girl choked on the name of their fallen comrade. “You can’t be everywhere. Was it mind control? What?”
She felt his body rumble with a chuckle. “Neat little trick I picked up. I can, uh, split my body. Make people.”
“So... they’re not real?”
“Oh, they’re real as you and me. Well, technically they are me. I see everything, feel everything, but their actions are their own. I just mold who they are and set them free.”
“You said you were the invaders.” She sat up, leaning away from the boy. “You made all of them?”
“Don’t give me that much credit.” The boy rolled his eyes. “I just made the ones on earth.”
Like a champagne glass hurled at a wall, Jarka’s entire worldview shattered. She rose to her feet; her finger shook wildly at the boy lounging against the counter. Her lips sputtered, thoughts wrestling to escape.
“Jarky,” He pulled himself up to her level, troubled by her explosive reaction. “That came out wrong. There’s no invaders on earth.”
She took a step back. “They had video! On the news!”
“They were a hoax.”
“How? City Hall is gone! I saw the video feeds, the alien. He was-”
“I set the bomb.”
Jarka’s eyes bore into Sigfried. His face carried presumption for his actions, but his posture was pleading. He needed acceptance. He needed praise. He needed affirmation.
She slapped him.
“Shit! What was that for?” He rubbed his jaw.
“How could you? How dare you!”
“You’re not looking at the bigger picture here.”
Her potent fury fueled her bitter words. “Fuck the bigger picture! It’s not like it matters to you. All this talk about saving people from uncaring governments, well, look at you. You don’t care about a thing but yourself. Creeping Kai, you surrounded yourself with clones until I showed up! You even manipulated them to get your way. You’re not a hero. You’re a terrorist.”
A rumbling growl eked from the depths of his innards. His fists clenched briefly lashing out to her chest. Her shirt twisted in his hands, lifting the girl but an inch from his mouth. His snarl was indignant, deliberate. “I. Am not. A terrorist.” With each pause, he gave her a hard shake, a warning.
She scoffed, surprising brashness for a girl dangling a half a foot off the ground. “What about City Hall? What do you call that, a picnic?” Her infuriated captor slammed her body against the refrigerator, menacingly raising his arm to strike. She wouldn’t mind. He’d broken her already. “Because I call it 18 innocent graves.”
“No... Nobody was supposed to die.” His fist faltered, choosing instead to press his forearm against her throat. “Not even Roy.”
“Well he did. They did. And their blood is on your conscience.” Her fingers wrapped around his arm in a futile attempt to reduce the pressure on her windpipe.
His face continued to contort with despair as he leaned forward. “I-I didn’t mean to. I planned around it, so nobody would...”
Breathing was getting to be a chore. “Kill me. Get it over with already.”
His eyes widened. “N-No. That’s...”
“Not part of...” The girl wheezed, unable to fill her lungs for more than a few words. “...the plan?”
He shook his head slowly. “Jarky...”
“Just.... kill... me...” Her eyes reddened. Bloodshot. “Please....” Pressure. No more breath.
The boy released her, stepping back in horror. Like a stone, she dropped to the ground. A piercing gasp resonated through the air.
The girl held her neck as though to guide the shuddering gulps to their destination. She reclined against the refrigerator while fresh air filled her lungs and renewed her strength. Tears dribbled over pallid cheeks. She listened to Sigfried’s frantic pacing, timing her labored breaths against his steps. Inhale walk walk walk. Exhale walk walk walk. As her panting slowed, his pace followed.
She struggled to stand. The boy rushed to her aid, supporting her waist in his arm.
“Look around you, Sigfried. Is this the world you want to create? Just death and pain and tears?”
He shook his head dismissively. “We all make sacrifices. Sometimes people get hurt for the greater good.”
“How can you look me in the eyes and say that? I’m just collateral to you.” She pushed away from him, choosing instead to rest her weight on the nearby wall.
“No, Jarka, I-” The boy reached to out to her, anxious to explain.
She tossed her hand. “I can’t do this anymore.” Her body staggered towards the exit.
His voice cracked, but she couldn’t see his face. “Come on. Give me ano-”
“Goodbye.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at the friend, the confidante, the kindred spirit she had lost. At last, the door swung shut between them.
*****
Sigfried stared ahead. She’d come back. She had to. She’d be stupid not to.
Couldn’t she see what she’d be giving up? She had a chance to change the world. To make things better. She was walking away from the beautiful struggle for the greater good. That was the whole point of ECM. Guide the weak to bind together to become strong and denounce the shackles of the status quo. She was weak. She was perfect.
The door would reopen any second now.
Why wouldn’t she want to put her mark on the world? To be remembered? Her name would be etched in time next to his. Their glories would be sung by schoolchildren in pageants, immortalized in countless paintings. She was resigning to become an out of work cook with no purpose. Barely a smudge in a diary, let alone chapters in a history book. She could be his prophet, ushering in a new age of enlightenment. Why would she leave?
Surely, she was just being dramatic at this point.
How could anything be more important than this? People were suffering, they just didn’t know it. They would show them the truth. Lead them to freedom. She should understand how important that is. How insignificant a couple of lives were compared to achieving their goal. After all, one must chip away the stone in order to carve a masterpiece. She was being foolish.
Irritated at her antics, Sigfried flung open the door. The hallway was placid. Empty.
“She left.” His lament echoed slightly, a bleak emphasis of his isolation.
He would follow her. Find her before she ruined everything. Before she decided to never return. He had to explain, had to make her see, make her understand what they were doing. Their mission. Why it was so important.
His arms pumped as he stiffly jogged towards the stairs. He was sore; his head throbbed.
That’s not why she joined us. You know that. She said she needed a purpose, a mission. She had lied. She was happy just being involved. Doing her share. Being accepted. She just wanted to belong to something. Look what you did to her. She needed a friend, and you almost killed her.
His progress paused at the first step, a looming obstacle given his dire disposition.
He had betrayed his only real friend. She had opened herself up to him, laughed with him, trusted him. Even after he had begun to confess, she had embraced him. She had faced him. Looking back, she had given him so many chances to redeem himself and apologize. He had responded with rhetoric. He was callous. He was fanatic. He was a tyrant.
Sigfried ascended the steps with deliberation. His crimson sweatshirt suffocated him. He needed to get out of this building. He needed to take flight.
He wouldn’t pursue her. No, it was best she run as far away as she could before he found some new way to crush her.
Tonight he would take wing for himself. He refused to be a predator; he needed to escape that role, if only for an hour. He wanted to be vulnerable, to feel fear mingle with the elation of freedom. He wanted to sing.
His eyes traced the silhouettes of the skyscrapers against the starry horizon. A low-flying hovercar zipped past, catching wisps of his hair in its wake. Feathers rustled as a nightingale became lost in the evening sky.
*****
Jarka stormed down 7th street. She couldn’t cry. Not anymore. She was just so damn tired of feeling anything anymore.
She had no real destination in mind. She could go home, true, but it didn’t really feel like ‘home’ anymore. ECM was her home now, but that house had just been burnt to the ground.
Her eyes fell on a crudely painted sign swaying ahead: “Saiyan Tail Tavern.” There’s no home like booze. Ignoring the taxidermied chimpanzees lining the walls, it was a pleasant enough location. More importantly, the clientele were limited enough that she could down her whiskey in solitude. She had no desire to talk to anybody; she’d done more than enough of that today. Now was time to dwell. To mourn.
She wept for Sigfried. For his betrayal, and for her loss. He’d welcomed her, drew her in, earned her trust and crushed her. He was a murderer. A terrorist. He had no regard for any life but his own. And she had cherished him.
The bitter drink still tumbling through her innards, she stumbled once more down the desolate sidewalk. A low-flying hovercar zipped past, drawing her attention to the starry horizon. There’s always a bright side. Her city had been torn apart by war not one year ago. Buildings were decimated and infrastructures were toppled. All the destruction crippled the populace, many fleeing to safer cities. With less pollution and fewer lights, the citizens of Central City could finally see the stars.
Jarka hated astronomy. The time spent learning about star systems and the mechanics of light speed was much better spent sleeping, which she often did. There had always been one lesson that stuck out.
She remembered learning about space travelers approaching black holes. It became like a dare, teasing the edges of the phenomenon. A game of cosmic chicken. The gravity was so immense, time slowed down. Without realizing it, the astronauts would be caught in its grip. It would pull them in as they tried fruitlessly to escape. Hopeless distress signals and teary goodbyes would be transmitted, only to receive the q-waves moments later as they become swept up in the gravity. Most ships carried a supply of cyanide pills for this reason. There was no escaping the event horizon, only death.
A corner store blazed neon in the night. Twenty zeni bought a cheap prepaid phone with only a few minutes. She didn’t need much time; talking on the phone was never her thing, anyway. Her path took her to a quiet park. A wooden bridge stretched across the man-made pond. It was here she made the call.
“Hello?” The man’s voice was sleepy. Long day.
“Hey, Citrad, it’s Jarka.” Her words hung hollow, unusual when she spoke to her brother.
“J, what’s up?” Concern simmered beneath his casual greeting.
“I’ve done something very bad.”
His tone turned serious. “Where are you? What’s going on?”
“I want you to tell everybody that I love them.”
“J, this isn’t funny.”
“I’m not joking.” Her voice began to crack under the pressure. “Tell them I love them. Tell them that I’m sorry, and if I could change things I would.”
“I’m coming to get you. Where are you?”
“Your baby will be beautiful. Like you.” She fought back a sob. “Goodbye, Citrad.”
The phone clicked shut. Her face glistened in the moonlight, tears rippling the water below. She had to do it. There was no choice. She had hit an event horizon.
The streets of Central City had been silent. Water splashed, and the city was dead once more.
*****
The door to the basement apartment creaked open. Sigfried stood facing the kitchen counter, pensively mixing a drink. He turned as he heard footsteps approach.
Jarka shoved him. “I can’t leave!”
The boy was confounded by her hostility. “What are you talking about?”
She continued to push him, a flurry of arms and hands against his chest. “You and your fucking plans! You made it so I can’t leave. You’re a black hole! You’re keeping me here!”
He caught her wrists. “The door’s right over there.”
She struggled against his restraint, moisture trailing her cheeks. “You think I can just walk away? You think I can just go? I’m involved with you. With ECM. We’re on the same team. Everybody you’ve killed gets traced back to me. I’m a murderer by association.”
Remorse twisted his visage. As his hands relaxed, she pulled away from his grip, panting with rage. His aching eyes latched onto her face. “I’m sorry.”
Her growl was barely audible. “That’s not good enough.”
With that, the girl lunged at him. His body collapsed with her momentum, landing limply beneath her. She screamed at him, inaudible words for inexplicable feelings, but it was not punishment enough. Her fist balled and swung forward, connecting with his jaw. His resigned eyes clenched shut on impact before they reconnected with hers.
“I’m sorry.” Each tearful punch brought another apology. The boy accepted her violent retribution with a docile gaze. Her primal growls transformed into whines as blood mingled with saline and the attacks abated. She quivered, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she straddled the submissive boy. Her arms sagged to her side.
Blood had smeared across his swollen face. “I’m sorry.”
The girl gaped at her messy handiwork. She clamored to her feet and wobbled to the counter. A moment rummaging through a drawer and she crouched over the boy once more. A damp towel tenderly wiped the sticky humor from his wounds. The pair shared a smile, tortured but understanding. She leaned into him, her breath hot on his ear.
Her words were a gentle whisper. “That’s not good enough.” She thrust a paring knife into his chest, landing just below his collarbone. As he wailed, the blade slid easily from its resting place before being tossed across the room.
Sigfried clutched his wound, his face a mix of rage and resignation. “You- you fucking stabbed me!”
Jarka stood, glaring down at her victim. Her betrayer. “Now you know a fraction of how I feel.”
The psychic stepped over him, making her way for the bedroom. With her hand on the knob, she shot a glance over her shoulder. “One condition: No more secrets.” The door clicked shut behind her.
[M][Earth] Of the People - Victoria - 01-18-2011
The rain was the first thing she felt. Large splattering drops that came slowly, as if time itself had taken hold to control the flow of every living thing. It gripped flesh, hair, wood and steel. The stage began to feel the torrent of those drops like bullets. A snap within the elements, and it all began to cascade, showers that Earth wept forth upon the hunter. Crimson began to moisten, trickle, and drip away from her wounds, and the puddle beneath her body. Police had come, and gone. No one could coax her into leaving, not even the medics. They waited to clean the area, but she wouldn't let them. An entire day faded into night, into darkness, twilight.
“I'm fine.”
Her body trembled under the chill of the water. Pulsing waves washed through her, dripped down her pale face and onto the blood that had yet to fade into nothingness. It was mostly hers, now, flowing against wood to drip off the edge and onto the grass. This was a place for the great, the grand, a memorial ground. No one would forget this day...especially Victoria.
“I'm fine,” she whispered to no one but herself.
Everyone had left. Sigfried had been dragged away, Jarka long before the unfolding murders, Hati and Skoll along with them. No one stayed, no one could. I'm not normal, I never was. How foolish, naive, you were always right, Jeremy. Victoria finally lifted her torso, her brow covered with thick blood. Large globs of water assaulted her face, her lashes fluttering against the onslaught, until giving up to close. She lifted her arms out as she knelt, the pale limbs spread as if in surrender. A rumble echoed within the dark clouds. One had to wonder where they had come from. Lightening cracked in the sky, a frightening flash.
“Why?!” she cried out in a torn voice, it echoed with the low groan of thunder. An arching band of electricity fluctuated across her arms. Victoria's sobs were drown out by the pitter patter of the rain. She always believed that rain gave life to better things. It fell, it cleansed, it washed all of yesterday's pain away. The smell of it filled her nostrils and she drank it in with a shudder and a low, pathetic groan. Arms pulled inwards, a lonely hug against her nearly naked body.
She was alone.
--
Bare feet stepped through puddles at a slow, mindless pace. Victoria's arms hung limp at her sides, only one of her segmented sleeves remained, wet and sagging. She stared down at the cement as she walked. The hunter knew, she knew damn well, that she should have gone back to Zone Five. Victoria was hallow...The lackluster shine had fleeted from her crystalline orbs. Long coral strands covered her back, and aided in some effort to cover her torn dress, which exposed burnt torn flesh at the hands of the grenade. Water droplets slid down between her breasts, tattered fabric stuck to the each mound pathetically, she may as well have been naked. A vein was cut. It was deep, and it was bleeding, like the small trails sliding down her long legs.
“Watch it!”
A callous voice snapped toward the vacant girl. She stumbled upon being bumped and all but trampled on. Her back collided with the glass of a store window, squelching with bare flesh against the surface. Her eyes remained downcast, unwavering, as empty as her heart. The male made a disgruntled noise and moved on, a muttered insult under his breath.
Victoria turned slowly and pressed her hands against the glass. She couldn't see her reflection, beads of water dribbled against the pane. Within the dark confines of the establishment mannequins stood in position, garb all about their bodies. Her head tilted back, eyelids closing and opening slowly. The girl needed new clothing but...she just couldn't care.
The street was cold, the people colder. Downtown Central City was a cesspool of vermin and cretins. Lights blazed to indicate bars and clubs. Victoria slowly pulled at the remaining sleeve. The fabric came free, and fell hard, heavy with water from the downpour.
A sweet, melodic voice filtered through a doorway. The girl stopped, her entire form still as the water dripped down from the heavens to surrounded her in a torrent. Victoria shivered, her gaze flicking to the open door as a young man laughed softly to let someone through. It wasn't them that she heard, but the soft music playing into the night air.
Losing yourself, you did a good thing
Truth never hurt, you did a good thing
In spite of yourself, you did a good thing
Truth will be told, you did a good thing
She turned on her shoeless feet and stepped in, the door held open, the male drinking his coffee. A curious glance surveyed the youth, but he said nothing. Humid air pressed against her wet body, her eyes settling on the stage where a young woman stood, a hand clasping the microphone. She sang with her heart and soul.
And I'll miss you for the longest time
Our lovely view was the best I've known
Tears on my face have fallen so
So long there can be no harder way
The cherry haired youth felt her breath hitch and she promptly turned, leaving the bistro. Quick footsteps caused puddles to splash wildly, she ran along the street with her tears threatening to spill again. Heavy breaths were formed from her efforts, until she stopped to lean over, close against a brick wall. “I-I'm fine.”
“You don't look fine,” a voice replied, cutting off her thoughts.
Victoria glanced around slowly, a hand lifting to her wounded skin. She had stopped just past the opening of a long, wet, alleyway. The red of a cigarette cherry burned in the darkness, smoke seeping into the stale air, smelling thick of soil and garbage. The man took another drag, fingerless gloves covering his palms. Wild brown hair adored his head, a sprinkling of facial hair on his mug. There were dark rings under his eyes, but his teeth appeared so...glaringly white, a smile that appeared once the death stick was lowered away.
“W-wha...” she stammered, and she pressed her hand to her brow. Victoria was tired, purely, completely exhausted. She had lost more blood than she should have, her body's rate of healing substantially slower than ever.
“Get out of the rain, stupid kid.” A grasp was felt on her arm and she stumbled into the darkness. It was drier here, draped in shadows, filled with junk. Victoria slid down and her knees lifted slowly to her wounded chest. “You look like shit,” his more-than-friendly voice slipped into her ear. She felt a hand against hers, a small gift.
“...this?” she asked, her voice void of any reason, any thought, except the ache in her chest.
“I've seen worse off than you...let me guess, sweetheart, boyfriend break your heart?” the man remained crouched next to her. So many people ended up fucked up, and crawling down this hole. She may have had a burned wound against her lower abdomen, and a ruined dress, but he really had seen worse.
“B-boyfriend...”
“There, there,” he lifted her hand to her mouth.
This was familiar, this was...like back then. Jeremy had coaxed her out of her shell, took her into his arms, made the bad men leave her alone. He had told her to take those pills, those tests, it had all led to better things. Victoria smiled softly and looked at the man with glossy eyes. “Jeremy?”
“I'll be whoever you want me to be, babe,” he replied and all but forced her to press the pill between her lips. It settled on her tongue. It was bitter, it was sweet, and it washed down her dry mouth like a bullet. Like the bullet that ripped through the back of Roy Munin's skull and covered her in blood.
The world was breathing. It was pulsing like butterfly wings in the sunlight of a summers' day. Victoria tilted her head back, her cobalt eyes wide and staring. Drops of rain fell across the alley, the space uncovered, and she could see every clear fragment of water colliding upon the earth with a shatter. Her breathing hitched, not from pain of the heart, but from awe.
“There we go, baby, much better.”
“It's...it's all so vivid.”
A hand lifted from the cosmos of her being, so amazing, the air was moving, gripping her and aching for her to float away with it. The drug dealer pulled her hand down and kissed her palm. A radiating spark, literally, leapt from the touch. At first he pulled away, but this girl, she looked too good to ignore. Young and prime, stupid and innocent.
“I have to go.”
“No, you don't,” he replied carefully. Victoria stood, and he with her, stepping with a smooth motion to block her path. Hands found her sides, trailing upwards against bare skin and torn cloth. “It's warm here, safe, no better place.”
“J-Jeremy...” she paused, her head tilting back against the wall. “No, I have to...” her heart fluttered.
That throbbing, it was all around her. Victoria's eyes fluttered and she pressed against the wall. What have I done? There was an aching all around. What did I do? She felt her thigh rising, instinctively hooking with his hand so hot against her skin. “I can't...” she had said this many times before.
“NO!”
Electricity surged from her hands, and the current fed into the bastard's body with more power than ever. What Richard had felt...was nothing compared to this. It was a force of nature, spurred on by the heightened senses, the drug fucking up her mind, but she didn't care who this guy was. He wasn't Jeremy, and he certainly wasn't Roy.
His figure flopped, shook, and fell over twitching from the intense shock. Victoria did as she had done almost a year ago. She held the material of her dress, hanging by threads, to her body and she ran from the alley and back into the rain. Adrenaline pushed her, sobs choked in her throat. She could feel every hit of the rain like rocks on her skin. Twice she fell, all the grace from her, but she always got back up from the puddles.
“He's dead, he's dead, they're both dead. I killed him,” she cried under her breath. She was lost, she couldn't think with all of this drug befuddling her mind. Victoria wandered the streets with her eyes wide, her heart rapid, until she stood on the only street she could remember.
--
“You think they're making out?”
“Hell if I know,” Skoll looked down at his nails absently.
“'cause I'd like to, you know, eat something,” Hati complained. They leaned against the wall just outside of the apartment. It had been a few hours since Jarka had returned, but, anything could be going on inside of that hell hole. Females were bombs, living, breathing bombs.
Speaking of bombs, and females, a pale slender hand pushed open the door leading outside. Rain had lessened to a drizzle, droplets littered the ground where long strands of deep rose dangled down her lithe figure. A sniffle echoed down the short hall.
Victoria slowly walked down the hall, her back straight, arms covering her chest in a self-hug. Her face showed no emotion; she sniffled again. Each step was equal in strides until she stood in front of the two men. Her comrades, affiliates, but not her friends. Eyes downcast, avoiding.
“Hey.”
“Uh, shit,” Hati rubbed the back of his head, averting his eyes from her state. Victoria didn't care, she looked at the door beside them. Although she had begun to heal, a smaller scorch mark was still struggling.
“Bye.”
Victoria walked closer to the door. Her hand grasped the knob, but she couldn't turn it. Skoll gripped her fingers, and he stared at her, right at her. She didn't look up. It was hard enough pretending that she was fine. It was hard not to flinch, fall, crumble and feel the world spinning. Close inspection would show that she was visibly shaking, the narcotic enough to make her teeth clench and her body feel every sensation as rain residue dribbled down the backs of her thighs.
“Victoria,” Skoll sounded so grown up. It was as if they had all been effected, in some way, by what had happened. Loss was a mighty wave against the world. One person's death can affect many.
She couldn't say anything. The doorknob was melting, she had to turn it, before it disappeared. Victoria's strong grip turned, pulling free of the other hand, which felt heavy and warm. Blue eyes, hazed, flitted up finally to lock with the male. “Whatever is going on in here, can't be any worse than out here,” she whispered hauntingly. The door swung open with a creak and she walked into the messy, dingy apartment.
“Vic,” Sigfried stood up from the couch, his eyes roaming the state of her. She was a rag doll, all seams undone.
“Fearless leader,” she replied. Her gaze roamed from Sigfried's bright, blazing hoodie, to all the bits and pieces of his life arranged like baubles in this tiny hovel. A fork, glinting in the light. An overturned bottle, the colors floating off it's skin. This entire time she held her fingers tight to the cloth that had been ripped from her torso, a lifeline, she supposed.
“What?” Sigfried replied, face paling. He could very well have been wondering whether she knew...that it had all been him, he had been the one doing everything. This kid, college drop out, good-for-nothing loser, was everyone and no-one.
“Roy's dead,” her voice was a whisper, dead in tone. She said this simply, as if commenting on the weather. “Rank structure dictates that you're now the leader.” She didn't look at him, only let her head tilt back slowly, watching the light flicker...although it didn't flicker for anyone else. “No point in keeping secrets now. Point, and I'll kill. But I'm tired. Goodnight.” The girl walked across the room.
“Victoria, wait, about tha-
Roy's bedroom door closed in Sigfried's face. She could have gone to her hotel room, but in her frantic drugged, fucked up state, this is where she had ended up. This was the only place that made sense. Not the expensive extravagant suite, not the boring sterile room back at Zone Five. Her heart pounded and burned with each shallow breath while she plucked, peeled, and removed the dress from her body. Tears freshly sprung like a fountain from her weary eyes, hands and knees met with the plush mattress. The only room ever taken care of, clean, perfectly organized. She wished she had asked him if he had some compulsion to be perfect, to live perfect, maybe that was why he loved her. Victoria had grown up being told she was perfect. She had been made to be perfect.
Her nose buried into the pillow, she was small beneath his blanket. Victoria cradled the pillow under one arm, over the other arm, her body nearly covered completely, pink hair a mess all around. It was still wet, soaking into sheets. “Roy,” she whispered past a sob. Tears claimed the pillow to soak. She could smell him all over it. The bed had been so neat, as if he had never slept in it, but it really, truly smelt like him. “How did you catch me? I was the hunter, not you. Come back...” she gripped the pillow with her words. “You...you...idiot.”