01-25-2011, 02:33 AM
Roy wasn’t dead. Sigfried slowly shook his head and absentmindedly ran his hand over the back of his head. Roy was an idea, a concept, a partition of Sigfried’s mind that he had cordoned off, acted through, and breathed life into. Roy wasn’t around anymore; he wasn’t physical. He wasn’t something that you could put your hands on and touch, but he wasn’t gone. He never would be. Not until Sigfried died.
Though, he did realize that now Roy, as an individual, didn’t exist. He couldn’t make decisions or speak his mind. He was part of a nameless infinite inside his head, a chunk of subconscious possibilities that whispered in a chorus with each passing thought. In a way, Roy was dead. At least for now.
Sigfried had a hard time paying any attention during the ceremony, thoughts of death hammering into him as the tears and sniffling rang in his ears. He had hardly even thought of a funeral for Roy until people had asked him about when it would be. He hadn’t thought to commemorate the death of an idea. Well, not really death, but whatever. He had found some ashes that would be a good replacement for the real ones and dumped them into an expensive urn. It all seemed like buying props for a play. He didn’t let it bother him too much.
He had started to become irritated lately, allowing his agitation slip in tiny ways in his work and relations. For all the flurry of activity that had been aroused from the murder, only a fraction of it had been collected and focused for the purpose of the revolution. A tiny riot had been quelled in Central City, but unrest was brewing in East City as well. He would soon need to organize his militia into easily managed ranks. He didn’t care for that kind of work, but it would eventually need to be done.
For now though, it was only important that he finish his work with the funeral, say some things to the people that awaited him outside, and collect a few big name supporters. The money that the banks had fronted the day that Roy was shot could be used to set up a basic hierarchy in the groups or at least hire some people in a building to manage his affairs. It wasn’t as though there were many people that really needed to contact them directly, but having a handle on the whole situation of everything seemed the most responsible.
Victoria’s bright hair drew his attention from the alternate side of the room. She sat there, sobbing in Jarka’s arms, her lips uttering some unheard inner truth. Sigfried could have heard, but he didn’t care to listen. She was living behind a veil, the veil of love that blinded her. He could not steal that from her, surely, nor could he care to hear her blubbering but a moment longer. It was crying over spilt milk. Milk that you were in love with.
He looked back out over the altar again, at another sobbing member of the precession weeping over some burnt pigs in a jar. He shook his head slowly and let out a long sigh. Just another few hours of listening to people cry over Roy and he could go home and start organizing.
Sigfried took a deep breath a few feet away from the microphone that had been set up by other hands than his own. Apparently the news stations wanted his commentary on the entire event of his ‘mentor’s’ death. ‘Death.’
“This is a time of tragedy amidst our ranks.” The massive temple stretched up behind them, a large stained glass ring staring down from the tower like the eye of Kai. It judged him. “However, we must not waiver, for at this time our conviction to our people is needed the most.” He bowed his head a moment, if only to avert him from the sight of that staring obelisk above.
When he lifted his brow the sun had clouded the tall building over and he continued onward. “Roy Munin was a wise man. He could look out over this crowd and know who among us was true or false. He could look inside himself and pick out a lie.” He said this almost ironically, knowing that Roy was almost completely incapable of delving too far into his own mind. “He was kind and giving, but he knew what needed to be done. He saw the world for what it was: unjust.”
The eyes of the people looked up to Sigfried and pleaded. He did not know for what they yearned, but he was entirely unsure of whether or not he would be able to deliver it no matter what it had been. He looked into them and saw the shades of humanity, vibrantly shining through the flesh. He could taste their pain in the air and hear the buzzing of intellect and the dull strumming of ignorance. It was as though time and space had torn itself apart, and lay split before him as a majestic rainbow tapestry.
“It is the duty of those who loved Roy to carry on his legacy, and not forget his messages. But, for now, we must mourn.” He dipped his head a moment in false prayer before making his way back to the part behind him and into the car.
Sigfried had sequestered himself in the room once again, looming over the dim glow of his laptop. He had his cell phone in hand, a massive boxy trace blocker sticking out of its battery casings. His fingers drummed and he nodded slowly as he pondered the words of the person on the other side of the line.
“No, only in the districts south of the coastline border.” The voice he used was not his own, deepened and gritty. “We can find others.” His lightly rapped his knuckles off of the desk nervously. He wasn’t sure if the could find others. Their organization was one of the largest in this sector space of any kind and he certainly had no plans of fighting them. He did know that if he bent over backwards for them that they would take all that they could get and the come back for more. “Fine, it’s agreed upon then. I will expect you to hold your end up of the deal later this week. I’ll be looking for it.” He closed the phone quickly and pulled the jammer out of it.
He gently placed the two items down upon the desk in front of him. Forcing his hands to his legs he dipped his head and closed his eyes. He didn’t like having to work with the East City Mafia. He didn’t like that there would be a compromise in his world. He didn’t like that they would even be allowed to exist after he was done with the Earth, but there it was. A trade off is what the two finally settled on. Some weapons and a lot of money for his integrity and pride. For a little piece of his vision to flutter away in the breeze, caught by the bitter breath of corruption.
He couldn’t help but shake his head at himself, but he could think of no other way to go about his business without their cooperation and support. Apparently there had been a few members that were sent over to Mercy for whatever reason, offered up as assistance if he was to need it. He didn’t. He wouldn’t take them even if he did.
Sigfried clasped his hand over his mouth and began to click away at his computer, attempting to both move his mind onwards and further shrink his chore list for the day.
The property rights for the small office building had already been purchased and the ancillary staff hired. It was really a drop in the sea of the power he commanded now, but it felt good to have a force that was stagnant, waiting to be called upon.
A man named Ronald had applied for the job of secretary and general organizer of the small group. He had been at the speech when the bomb had gone off and there again when Roy was shot. He approached Sigfried via email (which made him suspect for the fact that Sigfried had not given his personal email out to anybody but a few reliable contacts) and requested the position as soon as it was made available. Sigfried figured the man might be a spy, however Skoll had run a thorough report over him with no results in addition to a personal screening from Sigfried himself.
He was oddly perfect for the job, dedicated and bright. He was a poli-sci major in college and had some amazing time management skills, joined the ECM early. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was practically a zealot to the cause and was more than willing to conceal some simple truths from those who couldn’t fully comprehend the immensity of the operations at hand. He hoped that one day, when all of this was done, there would be no reason for rulers to hide the truth. That time was not now, however, so it was good to have a man whose lips could be easily sealed.
He had already begun to the arduous task of breaking down the groups and getting a roundabout number for the people in each area of the planet. He had been given the numbers and locations of all of the arms and ammo that had come their way and an overall budget. Sigfried was tired of handling everything on his own. He wanted to make speeches, prepare plans and do missions. He just didn’t have the time or patience for the rest anymore.
He was now concerned the big groups. The East City Mafia had been taken care of for the time being. The Central City Army was at a standstill thanks to Skoll, false orders sent out periodically to loosen their grip of the city. He had plenty of weapons rosters and the means to get the things, but he wanted to make sure that the enemy would be forced to admit defeat before that battle had even started. A few large sectors of the planet still worried him: The South and West City Armies, Capsule Corporation and finally a shadowy group of paramilitary that held it’s HQ several miles south of Central City, near the mountains. The Sentinels.
The group was fairly large and had more than a couple extremely powerful individuals that filled its ranks. As he had done with the mafia out east, he planned to settle his affairs with honey instead of vinegar. The last thing the ECM needed was a huge group like them bounding on his tails. He couldn’t bribe them; he couldn’t threaten them. Having them on his side was the only option, and he didn’t know about straight diplomacy and pretty words. They didn’t seem the type to particularly give a crap about those things.
There was a sudden knock at his door and he spun to greet it. “Yeah what up?” He didn’t bother opening the door to answer it.
Skoll’s low voice rumbled out from the blackness. “Jarka has an interesting idea I think you’d like to hear, and I finished getting that report on one…” He paused with a shuffling of papers. “Simone Lanciotti. Apparently she’s on vacation right now.”
Sigfried lurched upwards as he escaped his desk chair and opened the door. “Ah, thanks man.” Skoll nodded simply as he handed over the pile of papers. Sigfried flipped through a few of the preliminaries and smiled. “Perrrfect. Thanks a ton.”
“When you have time, talk to Jarka about her idea. I was a bit surprised by it, honestly.” He smirked and rubbed his fingers together menacingly. “Maybe she’s joined the dark side.” He laughed at his own joke and turned away. “Alright, I’ll be in the living room if you need me for anything.” He paused and sapped his fingers once, looking over his shoulder. “Oh, and Ronald called. He’s almost done with that job you gave him this morning.” His grin flaunted his feelings on the topic before Sigfried closed the door on him.
“Simone, Simone, Simone…” Sigfried repeated her name as he sat back at his command station, flipping the pages over and glancing over the paperwork. “Looks like the Central City Army has a little job for you, sugar.” He began to type furiously at the computer, the night dragging onwards by time unbound.
“Hey guys, I know it’s late tonight, but I just finished these projects and I really need you to get to work on them right away.” Sigfried stood in front of the couch packed with the other four tenants of the basement like an elementary school presenter for Show and Tell.
Taking a deep breath he began to pace back and forth across the room. “Ok, so basically we’re going to start getting some supporters from the big names around the region. I’d rather make agreements and pacts than try and just kill everybody that might be on the fence about our being here. I know we’ll have a war on our hands if we don’t get affluence before we pull the trigger.”
He looked over at the two as they looked at him, mostly wide eyed. “I know we haven’t had a lot of time to recover, and for that I’m sorry.” He held his eyes locked to Victoria’s for a moment before breaking them away. “I’m really, really sorry.” He gathered a large parcel of paper and lay it on the coffee table with a thunk. “I’m mostly worried about two groups right now.” He spread the thick stack out thinly across the table and tapped the title of the closest one. “The Sentinels,” Victoria crunched up at the sound of the group’s name, “and Capsule Corporation.” He let the two names sink in a moment, but Victoria already seemed mortified. Jarka just didn’t seem to understand.
“I’m going to try and see if we can hit both at the same time.” His eyes were stern as he carefully traced the papers that illustrated his plans. “Victoria, you’re going to hit the Capsule Corp. We got a hold on pretty much anything and everything you’d ever need to know about Capsule Corps from a hacker named Simone who’s currently enjoying a lovely vacation out East. Or somewhere, I can’t remember.” He waved his hand about in the air aimlessly, flustered. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter about her. What matters is that there’s nothing we don’t know about the company, its employees or it’s buildings.” He pushed the massive file in her direction. “I want you to use your particular skills to get into the main office, as subtly as you can, and make it clear the ECM is here to stay. Give them our contacts and get them on the phone by no later than the end of the week.” He grinned and nodded to Victoria. “I don’t much care how else ya do it.”
Victoria opened her mouth as though to protest or ask a question, but in his excitement, Sigfried was already on to the chef. “Okay, Jarka. You and I are on the Sentinels. I’m going to set up a meeting at the City View Hotel this week to open negotiations. It’s gonna be a really hard sell, and I don’t know if I can just convince them that we’re looking after the world’s best interests. I don’t know if they’ll give a crap about the world’s best interests. We might have to figure something out.”
He stepped away from the table and the sprawl of papers and clasped his hands together. “Any questions?”
Though, he did realize that now Roy, as an individual, didn’t exist. He couldn’t make decisions or speak his mind. He was part of a nameless infinite inside his head, a chunk of subconscious possibilities that whispered in a chorus with each passing thought. In a way, Roy was dead. At least for now.
Sigfried had a hard time paying any attention during the ceremony, thoughts of death hammering into him as the tears and sniffling rang in his ears. He had hardly even thought of a funeral for Roy until people had asked him about when it would be. He hadn’t thought to commemorate the death of an idea. Well, not really death, but whatever. He had found some ashes that would be a good replacement for the real ones and dumped them into an expensive urn. It all seemed like buying props for a play. He didn’t let it bother him too much.
He had started to become irritated lately, allowing his agitation slip in tiny ways in his work and relations. For all the flurry of activity that had been aroused from the murder, only a fraction of it had been collected and focused for the purpose of the revolution. A tiny riot had been quelled in Central City, but unrest was brewing in East City as well. He would soon need to organize his militia into easily managed ranks. He didn’t care for that kind of work, but it would eventually need to be done.
For now though, it was only important that he finish his work with the funeral, say some things to the people that awaited him outside, and collect a few big name supporters. The money that the banks had fronted the day that Roy was shot could be used to set up a basic hierarchy in the groups or at least hire some people in a building to manage his affairs. It wasn’t as though there were many people that really needed to contact them directly, but having a handle on the whole situation of everything seemed the most responsible.
Victoria’s bright hair drew his attention from the alternate side of the room. She sat there, sobbing in Jarka’s arms, her lips uttering some unheard inner truth. Sigfried could have heard, but he didn’t care to listen. She was living behind a veil, the veil of love that blinded her. He could not steal that from her, surely, nor could he care to hear her blubbering but a moment longer. It was crying over spilt milk. Milk that you were in love with.
He looked back out over the altar again, at another sobbing member of the precession weeping over some burnt pigs in a jar. He shook his head slowly and let out a long sigh. Just another few hours of listening to people cry over Roy and he could go home and start organizing.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Sigfried took a deep breath a few feet away from the microphone that had been set up by other hands than his own. Apparently the news stations wanted his commentary on the entire event of his ‘mentor’s’ death. ‘Death.’
“This is a time of tragedy amidst our ranks.” The massive temple stretched up behind them, a large stained glass ring staring down from the tower like the eye of Kai. It judged him. “However, we must not waiver, for at this time our conviction to our people is needed the most.” He bowed his head a moment, if only to avert him from the sight of that staring obelisk above.
When he lifted his brow the sun had clouded the tall building over and he continued onward. “Roy Munin was a wise man. He could look out over this crowd and know who among us was true or false. He could look inside himself and pick out a lie.” He said this almost ironically, knowing that Roy was almost completely incapable of delving too far into his own mind. “He was kind and giving, but he knew what needed to be done. He saw the world for what it was: unjust.”
The eyes of the people looked up to Sigfried and pleaded. He did not know for what they yearned, but he was entirely unsure of whether or not he would be able to deliver it no matter what it had been. He looked into them and saw the shades of humanity, vibrantly shining through the flesh. He could taste their pain in the air and hear the buzzing of intellect and the dull strumming of ignorance. It was as though time and space had torn itself apart, and lay split before him as a majestic rainbow tapestry.
“It is the duty of those who loved Roy to carry on his legacy, and not forget his messages. But, for now, we must mourn.” He dipped his head a moment in false prayer before making his way back to the part behind him and into the car.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
Sigfried had sequestered himself in the room once again, looming over the dim glow of his laptop. He had his cell phone in hand, a massive boxy trace blocker sticking out of its battery casings. His fingers drummed and he nodded slowly as he pondered the words of the person on the other side of the line.
“No, only in the districts south of the coastline border.” The voice he used was not his own, deepened and gritty. “We can find others.” His lightly rapped his knuckles off of the desk nervously. He wasn’t sure if the could find others. Their organization was one of the largest in this sector space of any kind and he certainly had no plans of fighting them. He did know that if he bent over backwards for them that they would take all that they could get and the come back for more. “Fine, it’s agreed upon then. I will expect you to hold your end up of the deal later this week. I’ll be looking for it.” He closed the phone quickly and pulled the jammer out of it.
He gently placed the two items down upon the desk in front of him. Forcing his hands to his legs he dipped his head and closed his eyes. He didn’t like having to work with the East City Mafia. He didn’t like that there would be a compromise in his world. He didn’t like that they would even be allowed to exist after he was done with the Earth, but there it was. A trade off is what the two finally settled on. Some weapons and a lot of money for his integrity and pride. For a little piece of his vision to flutter away in the breeze, caught by the bitter breath of corruption.
He couldn’t help but shake his head at himself, but he could think of no other way to go about his business without their cooperation and support. Apparently there had been a few members that were sent over to Mercy for whatever reason, offered up as assistance if he was to need it. He didn’t. He wouldn’t take them even if he did.
Sigfried clasped his hand over his mouth and began to click away at his computer, attempting to both move his mind onwards and further shrink his chore list for the day.
The property rights for the small office building had already been purchased and the ancillary staff hired. It was really a drop in the sea of the power he commanded now, but it felt good to have a force that was stagnant, waiting to be called upon.
A man named Ronald had applied for the job of secretary and general organizer of the small group. He had been at the speech when the bomb had gone off and there again when Roy was shot. He approached Sigfried via email (which made him suspect for the fact that Sigfried had not given his personal email out to anybody but a few reliable contacts) and requested the position as soon as it was made available. Sigfried figured the man might be a spy, however Skoll had run a thorough report over him with no results in addition to a personal screening from Sigfried himself.
He was oddly perfect for the job, dedicated and bright. He was a poli-sci major in college and had some amazing time management skills, joined the ECM early. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was practically a zealot to the cause and was more than willing to conceal some simple truths from those who couldn’t fully comprehend the immensity of the operations at hand. He hoped that one day, when all of this was done, there would be no reason for rulers to hide the truth. That time was not now, however, so it was good to have a man whose lips could be easily sealed.
He had already begun to the arduous task of breaking down the groups and getting a roundabout number for the people in each area of the planet. He had been given the numbers and locations of all of the arms and ammo that had come their way and an overall budget. Sigfried was tired of handling everything on his own. He wanted to make speeches, prepare plans and do missions. He just didn’t have the time or patience for the rest anymore.
He was now concerned the big groups. The East City Mafia had been taken care of for the time being. The Central City Army was at a standstill thanks to Skoll, false orders sent out periodically to loosen their grip of the city. He had plenty of weapons rosters and the means to get the things, but he wanted to make sure that the enemy would be forced to admit defeat before that battle had even started. A few large sectors of the planet still worried him: The South and West City Armies, Capsule Corporation and finally a shadowy group of paramilitary that held it’s HQ several miles south of Central City, near the mountains. The Sentinels.
The group was fairly large and had more than a couple extremely powerful individuals that filled its ranks. As he had done with the mafia out east, he planned to settle his affairs with honey instead of vinegar. The last thing the ECM needed was a huge group like them bounding on his tails. He couldn’t bribe them; he couldn’t threaten them. Having them on his side was the only option, and he didn’t know about straight diplomacy and pretty words. They didn’t seem the type to particularly give a crap about those things.
There was a sudden knock at his door and he spun to greet it. “Yeah what up?” He didn’t bother opening the door to answer it.
Skoll’s low voice rumbled out from the blackness. “Jarka has an interesting idea I think you’d like to hear, and I finished getting that report on one…” He paused with a shuffling of papers. “Simone Lanciotti. Apparently she’s on vacation right now.”
Sigfried lurched upwards as he escaped his desk chair and opened the door. “Ah, thanks man.” Skoll nodded simply as he handed over the pile of papers. Sigfried flipped through a few of the preliminaries and smiled. “Perrrfect. Thanks a ton.”
“When you have time, talk to Jarka about her idea. I was a bit surprised by it, honestly.” He smirked and rubbed his fingers together menacingly. “Maybe she’s joined the dark side.” He laughed at his own joke and turned away. “Alright, I’ll be in the living room if you need me for anything.” He paused and sapped his fingers once, looking over his shoulder. “Oh, and Ronald called. He’s almost done with that job you gave him this morning.” His grin flaunted his feelings on the topic before Sigfried closed the door on him.
“Simone, Simone, Simone…” Sigfried repeated her name as he sat back at his command station, flipping the pages over and glancing over the paperwork. “Looks like the Central City Army has a little job for you, sugar.” He began to type furiously at the computer, the night dragging onwards by time unbound.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
“Hey guys, I know it’s late tonight, but I just finished these projects and I really need you to get to work on them right away.” Sigfried stood in front of the couch packed with the other four tenants of the basement like an elementary school presenter for Show and Tell.
Taking a deep breath he began to pace back and forth across the room. “Ok, so basically we’re going to start getting some supporters from the big names around the region. I’d rather make agreements and pacts than try and just kill everybody that might be on the fence about our being here. I know we’ll have a war on our hands if we don’t get affluence before we pull the trigger.”
He looked over at the two as they looked at him, mostly wide eyed. “I know we haven’t had a lot of time to recover, and for that I’m sorry.” He held his eyes locked to Victoria’s for a moment before breaking them away. “I’m really, really sorry.” He gathered a large parcel of paper and lay it on the coffee table with a thunk. “I’m mostly worried about two groups right now.” He spread the thick stack out thinly across the table and tapped the title of the closest one. “The Sentinels,” Victoria crunched up at the sound of the group’s name, “and Capsule Corporation.” He let the two names sink in a moment, but Victoria already seemed mortified. Jarka just didn’t seem to understand.
“I’m going to try and see if we can hit both at the same time.” His eyes were stern as he carefully traced the papers that illustrated his plans. “Victoria, you’re going to hit the Capsule Corp. We got a hold on pretty much anything and everything you’d ever need to know about Capsule Corps from a hacker named Simone who’s currently enjoying a lovely vacation out East. Or somewhere, I can’t remember.” He waved his hand about in the air aimlessly, flustered. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter about her. What matters is that there’s nothing we don’t know about the company, its employees or it’s buildings.” He pushed the massive file in her direction. “I want you to use your particular skills to get into the main office, as subtly as you can, and make it clear the ECM is here to stay. Give them our contacts and get them on the phone by no later than the end of the week.” He grinned and nodded to Victoria. “I don’t much care how else ya do it.”
Victoria opened her mouth as though to protest or ask a question, but in his excitement, Sigfried was already on to the chef. “Okay, Jarka. You and I are on the Sentinels. I’m going to set up a meeting at the City View Hotel this week to open negotiations. It’s gonna be a really hard sell, and I don’t know if I can just convince them that we’re looking after the world’s best interests. I don’t know if they’ll give a crap about the world’s best interests. We might have to figure something out.”
He stepped away from the table and the sprawl of papers and clasped his hands together. “Any questions?”
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]