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Post by Delilah A. Black on May 8, 2012 12:57:14 GMT -8
((OOC : Continuation of the “ Homecoming” thread.))
In the late afternoon of another beautiful sunny day in the ruins of Long Beach, the marina that surrounded the Crows’ Nest was bustling with activity. Troops were being trained on a regular basis, people were out gathering supplies or taking part in reconnaissance on the perimeter of their territory. Everyone had a job and was being put to work. Sergei was no different.
He sprinted up the beach on sure legs toward the docks, the heavy training he had endured over the last few months apparent in his even gait and speed. The look on his scar mottled face was that of a man on a mission, with sweat and grime streaking down his face and into the scruff of his beard. Despite having run close to a mile and a half since leaving his trainer and their…guest on the beach, he was feeling only slightly winded. It was easy to sprint as fast as you can when there wasn’t a deranged sharp-toothed psychopath yelling curses at you every time you took a step, or chasing you with weapons or forcing you to swim when all you really wanted to do was sleep.
Anyway.
Having reached the base and nodding politely to the guards stationed nearby, he slowed to a jog and slipped inside.
The concrete building was like a blessing to his sunburned skin. He relished it for a moment before resuming his pace to find a suitable meeting room per the request of his First. He made sure the room was in order as he tapped the blue-tooth on his ear, straightening papers, fixing the torn corner of an old map and clearing the space of cobwebs in general.
“Sergei to Tai, do you copy? Over.”
He would wait for an affirmative on the copy before continuing to speak. “Sir, the First’s arrival will be an ETA of thirty to forty minutes. I have Meeting Room D booked and ready for Zero Winters to meet with First Black and guest. If there’s anyone else you’d like me to inform of the meeting, please let me know and I’d be happy to find them for you, sir. Over.”
The room now in order, Sergei slipped outside to carry out whatever tasks Tai would relay to him, if there were any. If not, Sergei would simply ‘copy’ what Tai said and would stand outside the door as a guard until he was dismissed. He would open the door for whomever arrived and quietly show them in before resuming his post.
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Birch walked into the base at a much more leisurely pace than his uptight komrade. He had still ran the majority of the way, but he wasn’t too concerned with the task at hand. It was better to savour these kinds of moments. Besides, he was thinking. One never rushed thinking lest they do something fool hardy.
Birch himself was both the case and the point.
As he strode up to the base, he gave a jovial wave to the guards stationed there and a sly wink to one of the female Crows walking by. He relished at her blush, feeling tempted to make a pass at her, only to remember that m’lady would likely skin his hide if he ignored her instructions.
Making a note to find the lovely young Crow later, he entered the building and made his way to the medical unit, where no doubt Dora would be griping about whatever task was at hand and probably stabbing people. If by chance she wasn’t there, he would turn on his heel and make his way down to the mess hall to see if he could find her there. And if she wasn’t there, he would go to seek her elsewhere, such as her barracks (which he knew the location of with eerie accuracy), or amongst the troops who were likely being stabbed.
If and when he located her (Birch was nothing if not tenacious), he would stride up to her with his most charming smile, taking an obvious moment to look her up and down before bowing elegantly before her. “Il mio comandante bella,~” he purred, using the only Italian phrase he knew combined with the Italian word for “commander”. He straightened his back, still smiling broadly. “I bring to you the most tragic of news. M’lady was injured in a fight with the man she is currently bringing to our base and requires a new set of stitches.”
It was clear that Birch’s idea of a ‘tragedy’ and that of others were not the same.
“And, what do you have for bruises? She’s gonna have a big set now where he choked her.” To illustrate, Birch wrapped his own hands around his neck, lolled his tongue out of his mouth and gave himself a grotesque shake. If she asked him where they were, he would reply; “They’re meeting with Zero Winters shortly, I think. But you know how he takes all the fun out of everything,” he gave a heavy sigh, obviously hinting at the fact that “Unfettered” would probably prevent Dora from engaging in her favourite past-time which consisted of stabbing irritating people relentlessly to her heart’s content, in Birch’s opinion.
If and when he was dismissed, he would give the punkette another bow before attending to more pressing tasks. He would be back to hit on her again, later. If at all he was stabbed at any point during this exchange, he would wince in pain before bursting into a seductive grin, though he would refrain from saying anything. This time.
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Nigel lead the man and that woman towards the base at a walk, alone with his thoughts for the majority of the journey. He didn’t speak or talk to either of them nor did he address anyone along the way. He only gave curt nods to the people stationed outside the entrance to the base on the docks of the Long Beach marina.
Silent as always, he ushered them inside and would take them down the hall way to…his own quarters. He would open the door for the man and slip in quietly after them. The apartment was small, and not unlike the others throughout the base; cement walls, carpeted floors, two bunk beds pressed up against the wall that served as a bedroom. He jabbed a thick, black finger down what looked like a small hallway.
“The bathroom is through there. I’ll leave a change of clothes for you outside the door for you in case you want a shower.” he said in a flat voice. Delilah tried not to roll her eyes at Nigel’s attempt at being hospitable, but she was impressed nonetheless. Slowly, she lowered herself down from his arms.
“We’ll leave when you’re ready.” she’d tell him, nodding that it was ok to trust this man.
If Stu chose to freshen himself up, a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt would be left outside the door for his usage should he need it. If he declined some or all of the above, as Delilah had, Nigel would nod again and exit the room, only shutting the door when Delilah and Stu were clear of the entrance. He would then lead them to where Sergei was standing in the reception hall, who would open the door for them as they approached.
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Post by Stu Pott on May 8, 2012 17:13:49 GMT -8
Stu shook his head at Nigel. He wasn't going to wear someone's clothes, nor was he going to shower right now. There were too many things to do, and too many people to talk to.
He followed the big man down the hall, Delilah at his side. He hadn't said much the entire way here, mostly just asking if she was okay. She had replied affirmatively, but he didn't trust that she wasn't hiding how hurt she actually was.
"You should go to the hospital... I can talk to Unfettered alone until you're done. You need to get those stitches taken care of if nothing else. And that bruise..."
Her neck didn't look that bad, but there was still an irritated area on either side that wrapped around her entire neck where his fore finger and thumb had attempted to crush her windpipe, and a disgusting purple spot towards the back of her neck, the implications only that his fingers had been trying to snap her neck.
He buried the thought, swallowing hard. He hadn't hurt her intentionally, only stopped her from getting more hurt. sure. That's what he was telling himself, anyways.
Awaiting her response and then continuing on with or without her, they would come into the room where Sergei stood guard. Stu nodded and saluted with a casual flicking of his fingers from forelock outwards. It could be mistaken for a patronizing action, but he meant it casually.
There, Stu would finally sit. He hadn't sat since before their fight, and he was exhausted. His side ached something fierce, both sides showing the tell-tale discoloring that would indicate a large and unsightly bruise soon to come. He sighed slowly as he relaxed in the chair, looking around the room.
It was sparse, but it was more than he expected. These Crows seemingly had their shit together. He'd have to see how well the command structure was put together.
And if it was shoddy? Well, he'd have to introduce the Crows to the old Stu. Some of that good ol' ultra violence.
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Post by "Unfettered" on May 19, 2012 21:30:15 GMT -8
Smells Like Max Payne 2... “Sergei to Tai, do you copy? Over.”"...What the fuck do you want Sergei? Fuckin' over."“Sir, the First’s arrival will be an ETA of thirty to forty minutes. I have Meeting Room D booked and ready for Zero Winters to meet with First Black and guest. If there’s anyone else you’d like me to inform of the meeting, please let me know and I’d be happy to find them for you, sir. Over.”"How fucking fascinating. That sounds pretty fuckin' alright for now, our asshole boss will give us the heads up if Delilah's asshole needs to be inspected by the main boss. Fuckin' over."Double-entendre. Tai was, for whatever reason (aside from having lost big in the previous night's poker game), in a foul mood. Normal, in other words.
..."You can bend over and spread your fuckin' cheeks for 'Unfettered' as he walks on in and say its from Tai. Fuckin' over."Order? Joke? Perhaps Sergei would half-ass it... but it wouldn't be hard for Tai to find out if Sergei half-assed it or no later in the day. Then again, it seemed to be up to Sergei as how to interpret it. Regardless, Tai would not respond to anything else over the radio, cackling to himself... as he continued on his way to the training fields, his "training whip" in hand.* * * * * * * * * * * * * * Dora was in her usual attire and in the medical wing of the Nest. She was bent over a Crow that was apparently ailing over the amount of cuts and bruises he had received from that morning's dungeon crawl, cuts, flayed skin, bruises and other nasties covering his forearms and ankles. However, from the report, the amount stitches he received was twice the number of stithies he had entered in with.
It was hard to tell when the drilling ended...“Il mio comandante bella,~”Immediately, Dora raised her scalpel, staring daggers as she pivoted around, when she saw who it was."You."The scalpel slowly lowered as she glared at him. She hated Italian men.
"What."
“I bring to you the most tragic of news. M’lady was injured in a fight with the man she is currently bringing to our base and requires a new set of stitches.”
"How fucking fascinating. Tell me more."
Dora turned around, bending over, deliberately giving the man a good look at the top of her ass… as she pulled out a syringe and turned back to face him, completely deadpan.
“And, what do you have for bruises? She’s gonna have a big set now where he choked her.”
Stitches, bruises, and choking… sounds right up your alley, Bitch."
She gave the syringe a slight push, letting it squirt onto Bitch's Birch's face. Even if it splashed onto his face or he skillfully dodged it, Dora's face was set to be unimpressed and stony.
“They’re meeting with Zero Winters shortly, I think. But you know how he takes all the fun out of everything.”
"You know who else isn't fun? Me," she stated as she stabbed forward to inject Birch with the tranquilizer in his thigh. It wouldn't be enough to knock him out, but it would require Birch to use a crutch for the next twelve hours. She would walk past him (or as it were, walk over him if he had fallen prone), strutting out.
"Thank you for your report, Bitch. I'll go to take care of Miss Black as soon as she arrives. You may now continue with your regular duties until instructed otherwise."
She would walk out of the Medical Wing and lock eyes with the next two unfortunate Crows to cross her path and force them to keep lookout for her via radio. By their instruction, the moment that Delilah Black was spotted, she would be escorted (read: dragged) to Dora's room by her legs. Only then, by checking on Delilah's door did they realize that she was actually already there. Both "volunteers" were escorted to the Medical Wing personally by Dora as she waited outside Delilah's door. She would blink, looking at Delilah, an escort, and some strange man would walk through the hallway. She followed after them.
"You should go to the hospital... I can talk to Unfettered alone until you're done. You need to get those stitches taken care of if nothing else. And that bruise..."
"This asshole is right, you know. Del, you should come with me. Now."
Dora would then speed up her pace to walk up next to them. She would look at Delilah, giving her the evil glare… and then look at the strangely familiar face of the "stranger." Several VIP records flashed through her mind, but she couldn't pinpoint which one he looked like---"Unfettered" had them go through people's faces like it was some sort of fucking memory game. She would walk with them all the way if need be, perhaps muttering something about 'meeting back up with him when I'm done with you' or something.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"…Danke, Sergei," replied a certain German, several minutes later. "Unfettered" was wearing his atypical Nazi-esque uniform, complete with the skull-decorated cap and military boots. He had his left hand behind him, holding rather tightly onto a brown-packed parcel, the colored tissue and brown paper bags over it extended to a very strange, elongated shape. That said, Sergei, as previously instructed, would let the German in, sitting him across the room.
Promptly, "Unfettered" would stand, smiling and nodding at Stu… and Delilah if she insisted on being present in spite of her injuries. He would walk over to a shelf, plugging in a coffee pot, setting it up for about four cups worth. He had left the package on his side of the table.
The German would walk beside Stu, smiling…
"Stu."
A gentle hand would find itself on Stu's shoulder, if permitted. It had been so long… In honesty, if Stu looked up, he would find the German's other hand across his face, perhaps holding back his own tears. Not very manly, but not many of his old compatriots seemed to have succeeded in surviving thus far. It was a bit of returned hope.
"…Where… do du vish for me to begin?"
…After a few moments of trembling, the German would look upward… though he would stare suggestively at the package. A nostalgic smile crossed his face.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on May 21, 2012 13:52:13 GMT -8
Sergei stared with an odd expression at the wall in front of him as Tai gave his...'orders'. This wasn't entirely unusual for that crazy mother-fucker him to make the troops do such outlandish things. The things he had to endure during basic training were enough to make anyone shudder. But this...this was a new level of Taiology.
Now, if Sergei were any less the solider he prided himself to be, then he would have ignored the order and passed it off as a joke. But orders were orders, and it didn't matter who they came from or what they were. Orders were to be followed to the letter and to the best of your ability.
And so, when 'Unfettered' walked into the room, Sergei saluted with an apologetic expression. “Sir, Tai wished for me to convey this to you.” Sergei turned on his heel, bent forward at the waist and spread his ass-cheeks with his hands, as was requested of him. After only a second of holding that, he immediately returned to his former position, saluting again (with an expression somewhere between pained and bored) and opening the door for him to go in, closing it once he was inside. Only once everyone was inside would Sergei walk briskly down the hallway back to his quarters, wherein he would proceed to beat his head against a wall for ten minutes.
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The glimpse of Dora's fine ass bent over in front of him was more than worth the tranquilizer injected into him and sprayed onto his face[/u]. His leg went completely dead and he fell to the ground, clutching the now useless leg. [/size] “Thank you for your report, Bitch. I'll go take care of Miss Black as soon as she arrives. You may now continue with your regular duties until instructed otherwise.” 'Bitch', huh? Wasn't that sweet? She was already giving him a pet name! Why, they were practically married already.
As she walked over him, Birch would be gifted with a lovely glimpse of her crotch (whether or not she was currently attired in her normal skirt or her jeans. That made crawling back to his barracks and hobbling around the base, using his spear for support bearable. Mostly. Being unable to talk for 12 hours, however...that had been excruciating.
----------------------- “You should go to the hospital...I can talk to Unfettered alone until you're done. You need to get those stitches taken care of if nothing else. And that bruise...” Delilah opened her mouth to reply--“This asshole is right, you know. Del, you should come with me. Now.”Eep.
Turning her head, she connected eyes with Dora, who was giving her 'the look'. 'The look' meant that 'no' was an answer that would be met with severe consequences, compounded by the fact that injuries had been attained.
She was going to regret this later.
“Sorry, Dor, I'm afraid I can't right now,” She said slowly, using her own nickname for the woman turned nurse. “I should probably be here for at least part of the meeting. As soon as I'm not needed, I'll come and see you. Promise.”
A promise she fully intended on keeping. One did not fuck with Dora White.
It was partly because of duty, getting the 'target' to his destination and all that as “public officer”. It was partly because she would need to report a couple of things to 'Unfettered'. But mostly, she couldn't bear to leave Stu right now. She felt responsible for his mood change, accompanied by not a small measure of guilt. But they would likely talk about that later. For now, she was more than content with remaining by his side (as long as Dora let her, anyway). It was also the reason she refrained from introducing them. That was probably best left for a situation that was...less strenuous.
She dismissed Nigel with a salute as they approached the door. In an effort to make her friend – one of the only female friends she ever possessed – understand, she dropped back a few paces to let Stu go in ahead of her and turned quickly to Dora again, mouthing two words as she indicated the gangly blue haired man now ahead of them.
'Oliver's father'
Followed quickly by “I'll see you shortly, okay?”
Without meaning to, Delilah sounded weary, dropping the professionalism she was typically known for and letting her emotions bleed into her words and expression: anxiety, relief, happiness, guilt, confusion, perhaps even a little residual anger from the confrontation with Stu earlier.
At this point, unless Dora forcibly dragged Delilah off to some place to treat her (or talk with her as the case may be), Delilah would give her friend a small smile and a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. She knew Dora well enough to know when the woman was genuinely pissed or just worried (although the line between the two was usually very, very fine). If allowed to go ahead, she would walk into the meeting room and nod to Sergei, giving the rather disgruntled looking man a dismissal. Without so much as another thought, she quickly slipped inside behind Stu.
She would politely salute “Unfettered” more out of habit than anything else before taking a seat beside Stu, still unwilling to let him out of arms reach quite so soon. Her businesslike demeanour was back in place, but it still warmed her to see Stu and “Unfettered” interact, something no one only hope to happen before now. “...Where...do du vish for me to begin?”Remaining silent, Delilah would sit back in her chair, her eyes on Stu, flicking over to the mysterious package only once.
Otherwise, if Dora had decided that 'feelings' were not a good enough reason to postpone the aftermath of 'the look', she would let herself be dragged off until she was fixed up or needed, whichever came first.
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Post by Stu Pott on May 21, 2012 17:24:09 GMT -8
As the two men saw each other, both were hit again by that same reaction, one of pure happiness as a long lost piece of themself had been found. Stu had been one of Unfettered's more ruthless allies, willing to do anything for his friend. This relationship had been strained and tested many times, but it had survived even the darkest parts of both their lives.
As they embraced again, Stu felt tears coming to his own eyes. He was exhausted, having just fought with Del over something stupid, for no reason other than that they didn't see eye to eye. Was it a view of what was to come? They were both strong willed individuals, Stu's inner strength derived from a very deep and dark place, Del's own depth beyond Stu's comprehension.
"If it isn't the Kraut bastard himself. How's ya mum, Johnny boy?"
He pulled away from his friend and sat at the table, letting Unfettered serve him that vile black tar coffee that these American's decided was worth drinking. He sipped at it and immediately grimaced before setting it back on the table and looking over at Unfettered.
"...Where...do du vish for me to begin?”
Stu smiled as Del took her seat too, and he looked at the long package on the table. Part of him wanted to know, immediately, what was in the mysterious package, his instincts from traveling kicking in immediately that this was not a good variable to have in this equation.
He shook his head before looking back at the Death's Head clad friend right in front of him. The get-up always confused Stu, but he assumed his friend had some sort of family member who owned it, and it meant something to him. Stu didn't harbor any ill-will for someone who wanted to dress up funky. Who was he to judge; he was wearing a white straw fedora with an orange tiger patterned band around it, white sunglasses with amber shades.
He leaned back in the chair as Unfettered took the seat opposite him, sitting and awaiting his answer. Stu still scrutinized the man, making sure it was the same one he had learned to love. The same one, who, had abandoned him to the Militia.
"Well, mein freund as you kielbasa eaters call it, I need to know everything. Delilah here," he motions somewhat curtly towards Del sitting next to him, "Has convinced me to stay for the forseeable future. Mainly with her fists. A few times over."
He grimaced slightly as he felt the dull throb in his side. He folded his sunglasses, placing them on the table in front of him, followed by the hat set down gingerly next to them. He ran a hand through his hair and ruffled it.
"I need to know what you need to know from me. I've seen way more than anyone else here. I cut a swath across the US. I need to know where you need me, John. Utilize me as best as you can."
He meant it. He had come to terms with the need to help out Del, and he knew that he couldn't leave her side, even if she had said he could take Oliver. He probably would've stayed no matter what any of her decisions had been.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Jun 13, 2012 3:40:59 GMT -8
OOC: After an excruciatingly long wait... I apologize for how comparatively short this probably will be.The Short Story Just an ordinary day. One of being mooned by one of your own soldiers and then adding one of your colleagues (Tai) to your shit list for the next hour, all the while holding an amused smile."If it isn't the Kraut bastard himself. How's ya mum, Johnny boy?" "MEIN MUTTER IST DEAAAAAAAAAAAAAD"
"Keke, vell enough, vell enough, Stu.Delilah was present, but keeping herself quiet... Dora having retreated for the time being, muttering something about "Sedatives in the food".
The focus was elsewhere. All were settled in and ready to get to the matter at hand. Having been prompted, Stu started."Well, mein freund as you kielbasa eaters call it, I need to know everything. Delilah here, has convinced me to stay for the forseeable future. Mainly with her fists. A few times over." "Unfettered" grinned. Unlike some of the others, he was rather alright with a bit of rough housing and even encouraged. A throwback to the haydays of 259's peak, as it were, looking at Delilah and Stu post-scuffle was... strangely warming."Du have mein thanks, Delilah. Und Ich am glad to hear of your extended stay, Herr Pott.""I need to know what you need to know from me. I've seen way more than anyone else here. I cut a swath across the US. I need to know where you need me, John. Utilize me as best as you can." ...At this, the German's smile flipped ever so slightly, as he leaned back into his own chair, crossing his arms. He was now at the point where it was time to get down to business. Clearing his throat, "Unfettered" stared at Stu, then to Delilah, and back to Stu again."Ich will try to keep it to ze point.
"Ze school vas attacked about a year or so ago, now, everything went to hell... missiles---nothing new, ja?
"From vat Ich understand, ze attack on ze school was a diversion by Barker to launch the missiles. Apparently, ze 259ers were in a position to affect perhaps either ze trajectory or perhaps ze very launching of some or maybe even all ze missiles. Nothing to confirm ze latter, just theories.
"Before all zis shit went down, Ich joined up with Kiyoshi und his Crows---made Militia a subsidiary, though we typically run a more advisory-based operation here.
"Du have probably been dealing vith Barker like us... but mein question ist... how does he get all these people? If du can shed some light on zat, it vould be most velcome. Ich have theories... but Ich need a bit more info.
"Ve took back ze Crow's Nest, cut it off from Barker, ve have a population under our protection here. Great deal, ja?
"Vould be, except ve haven't really been governing or managing ze people here. Kiyoshi apparently wants to run some sort of Feudal rule here... Und he's ze boss, so I'll run vith it. Du can get your details from Miss Black, here.
"Let's jump to du.
"...Ich vant du to join mein subsidiary. Rejoin Militia... show me vat du have been up to.
"Ich need a second-in-command Ich can trust to run things while Ich am not around. Ich need a man who has dealt vith our people before, who has a good reputation, who learned ze skills to run them. On top of zat, Ich vould like a man who can govern.
"Ich am being spread way too thin. Ich have fallen behind on mein research, mein profiling, und mein information gathering.
"---Ich rushed through zis... but zis is vere ve stand. Vat do du think?"He frowned, not unhappily, but thoughtful, staring at Stu. As a man who rose to the challenge, he was wondering if perhaps... he would catch "Unfettered's" drift. Explain why he might be qualified for what "Unfettered" was looking for... and know how to prove it.
"Unfettered" also seemed slightly... rushed. Like perhaps he really was being stretched too thin, his thoughts elsewhere. At the very least... he had reached for the package, which was hopefully relevant.
The German took the package in his hands, stroking it, as he stared at Stu.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jun 14, 2012 17:54:00 GMT -8
“Well, mein freund as you kielbasa eaters call it, I need to know everything. Delilah here has convinced me to stay for the forseeable future. Mainly with her fists. A few times over.”
“Du have mein thanks, Delilah. Und Ich am glad to hear of your extended stay, Herr Pott.”
She shrugged modestly and flipped her hand at them both. “Happy to help.” She replied smoothly, winking at Stu.
“I need to know what you need to know from me. I've seen way more than anyone else here. I cut a swath across the US. I need to know where you need me, John. Utilize me as best as you can.”
Delilah continued to watch from her seat as “Unfettered” processed this quickly, a slight frown tugging at the edges of her mouth. He looked tired. Sick, actually. It didn't really surprise her, of course, given how often he worked himself into the ground, but it still worried her. When he connected eyes with her, she let her concern show before smoothing over her expression again. The last thing he needed was to be burdened unnecessarily with concerns of how he appeared. She had a feeling it was on his mind already.
“--Du can get your details from Miss Black, here.”
She would catch that sentence and wait until “Unfettered” had finished speaking, her eyes slowly widening as he made his intentions for Stu clear. Once he was done, she would nod and turn her gaze to Stu. “Up until recently, I've been working as a intermediary liaison between Militia and Crows. Officially, I'm a First Crow, Domestic Officer or whatever my title is, but I'm still with Militia in the sense that I never left. To make it short, we're establishing ourselves as a governing force in our territory as the alternative to Barker. We haven't made it official yet, but we have the support of the civilians and what's left of the Military and police force in the area. Next comes a rally to make it public, which, if all goes according to plan, should take place in within the week.
“But because I'm a Crow by name and status, something I did to help bridge the gap between Militia and Crows, my hands are tied in regards to Militia's affairs, otherwise I'd have offered to help where I could...” She trailed off, looking steadily at “Unfettered”. What she hadn't said was that because “Unfettered” is a Zero Crow as well as the founder of Militia, his hands are tied as well, mostly by the vast amount of things that needed doing and trying to run both organizations at once. At least, that was how it appeared to Delilah.
But it made sense. Stu was unattached, unlike herself and “Unfettered”. He could remain solely within Militia without needing to attach himself formally to the Crows; his direct superior (“Unfettered”) was already a part of Crows. He was also the best choice, even if Delilah had kept herself unaffiliated: he was a good leader and he thought practically. It was also a role he would be familiar with. Though she wondered about the 'second-in-command' comment. Hadn't that been “Teal”? Come to think of it, she still had no idea about the wheel-chair bound man's whereabouts and no one would give her the details otherwise. She frowned at “Unfettered” as she realized this, but let it go...for now.
“...and if this is something a First Crow shouldn't be hearing, say the word and I'll go find Dora like I promised her.” she added, aware that “Unfettered” had plans for Stu and Militia that perhaps would be unwise for her to take part in.
Perhaps.
She flicked her gaze back to Stu and gave him an encouraging smile.
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Post by Stu Pott on Jun 20, 2012 10:02:02 GMT -8
Stu didn't say anything for a long time. Unfettered's hand continued stroking the object in the ornate cloth that was in front of him, Stu sure it was to be used as some sort of bargaining chip or reward depending on what he responded with. Really, he had nothing to say. What Unfettered wanted was blatantly clear. It had been a job given to him once before, but in a more radical way. His eyes, had they been normal, would appear glossed over as the memories washed over him... "This isn't for you, this is for me."The rising and falling of the metal haunted him to this day, one of his weaker moments. That part of his life had been put behind him though, that evil presence in the back of his mind excised and expelled. He didn't want to turn into that again... A man willing to totally submit. But it was Unfettered. This was Johnny, not Gabriel... Where is Gabriel? Stu couldn't even remember the last time... Probably sometime before he had left for England, that's when he had last saw him. It didn't matter. The choice at hand was clear; he had to stay and protect Delilah and, soon, Oliver. He would try to protect Johnny too. And if that meant doing his dirty work... "Right. So I'm your right hand. I've done that job once for someone, and it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I'm not a hired goon, right then? If you want me to run Militia, then aye, I'll do it. But that means... That means Militia is mine. And I won't be doing any Crow dirty work either. We're free people, but friendly. We work together. I get it we're less powerful, but I won't stand bullying." His eyes squinted at the colored cloth again. "And I want you to stop stroking whatever that new toy you're about to give me is. Giving me the willies, ya creep." He smiled at Johnny. "And I guess you want proof? Well, I could send a letter to me mum, she's my only reference. She'll tell you how I got back from this cesspit to find my father on his deathbed. He died not a month after I got off that plane. We buried him and the next day I went in to start running the company. Soon thereafter Barker initiated his attack and, guess what, the rest of the world is as fucked as you guys are here. It's not as bad in some of Africa, but that's just because there wasn't much there to begin with. Central Europe survived somewhat intact. There's some big police states there, not big by old standards but big by current standards. Several cities banded together, mostly. We've reverted back to Ancient times, as far as governance goes. England is the same. Our headquarters was in sizable city, it ended up getting swallowed. Our house was about 80 kilo's north of London, and I ran a community of survivors out of there, and left them in good straights. I wasn't about to let you guys die out here, wouldn't be proper manners." He leaned, elbows on the table as he continued his tale, "Then I chartered a ship out of a port in London, and paid quite a bit for it. However, we made it across the ocean. I've travelled from, what, somewhere in South Carolina, to here. I've seen all that America has to offer. The place is dead, John. It's gone. There's no recovering... Barker's got you guys dead to rights, and he did a number. The north East looked survivable in a brief air ride I took, but the south is wastelands, and what isn't wasteland is infested with vile people, people who don't deserved to be saved. Even here is dead John. Why are you sticking around? I'd be out of this place. That's why Del's got that thick ring of bruises around her neck. That's why my sides look like I was beat with a sack of potatoes. Same question. Maybe you shouldn't answer." He sat back. He had said a lot, and he drank some. Bitter, of course. Bloody Americans.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Jul 14, 2012 17:20:48 GMT -8
OOC: Sorry for the delay. Serious-intensive threads are serious.
For personal sanity's sake, I will try to keep this short.Lost Are The Simple Times "Unfettered" rested back in his chair, leaning in it comfortably, listening to Delilah explain her status and position. She prompted him, to which he smiled."Ich will leave zat up to your own discretion, Delilah. If du believe ethical... then by your own judgement, du may leave.
"If du believe zat vat vill be dicussed here will not compromise your position, nor you bias... then Ich will leave it up to you to stay. Of course, Herr Pott may appreciate your departure, pending on ze nature of our discussion, or perhaps our... business, ja?"A final nod, and he changed his position to look back to Stu. The smile dropped gently enough, giving a firm nod to the man with a playful frown. It did not matter to the German at this moment.
Stu, to the German, however, seemed to fill his void, black "eyes" with nostalgia. Words of some unknown history wrapped the German like velvet and he smiled in appreciation for what he did not understand.
'This isn't for you, this is for me.'
Stu would go onto explain his former experience as one's... right hand. The bitterness that it entailed, and his clever British way of saying how he was no man's servant, not some mindless thug.
The German's memory reached back...
But just before Stu was about to name his terms, Stu called out to the item that the German was caressing. This would elicit a laugh that would quickly grow into a roar, ending just as quickly as it began... but the German's fingers seemed to draw over the length of the parcel all the more in jest, smiling amused... eye narrowed. Head tilted.
- Stu wanted Militia as the sole leader, to own it.
- Stu didn't want Militia to be under Crows. Separation.
...Some misconceptions, but the German did not stop smiling.
Stu was a clever man, good with words, tapping on the death of his father as though in light passing, talking of his own succession over his predecessor. The German would have apologized for the man's death, but he would not interrupt the man, so enjoying the way the man's tongue drew him in. He liked the way in which he had to decipher the man's words, localizing it in his head.
Besides the man, Stu, was giving the German a Dragon's wealth of information. Word from the outside world.
He talked of the whole world as being... fucked.
Of how some parts of Africa weren't as bad though "Unfettered" had to withhold his laughter of how difficult it would be to ruin what was there, in his own terrible humor.
Central Europe... mostly intact.
The way Stu described how "States" were binding together in Europe sounded as though... their governments had been annihilated. Every word was another puzzle fitted into the place of the world's current condition.
England. Alright. No word of military or police... but alright.
Stu talked of his Odyssey. How he travelled through America to get to here... and by the time he was done, the German had mentally mapped together a portrait of the world. He would not doubt Herr Pott. But the German's friendly smile, as his face brooded, his back hunched forward, thinking thoughtfully.
The German's elbows had sank onto his propped up knees, his hands supports for his chin and cheeks, eye downcast. He seemed to be seeing a world and thinking through a multitude of thoughts.
Minutes would pass.
"Unfettered" looked up.
...He smiled.
..."Ich am sorry Delilah."He nodded again... apologizing for now changing his mind and insisting that Delilah leave them. He would not move nor speak until she did. Though the words were blanketed over nicely in Herr Pott's words, the seriousness of "business talk" was very prevalent.
As soon as Delilah left, to which the German would wave her off wordlessly, the German would sit himself in his chair naturally... And his smile would drop away.
No frown. No disgust. No joy. No sadness.
Only the man's blue eye blazed as he stared at Stu, lips parting slightly as his head tilted a little to the left. Thousands of words to be said, to be chewed up and processed.”Ich feel Ich must thank someone for your… relatively safe arrival here.
“Your information of ze outside world. Ich have enough trust in you personally to believe in your stated accomplishments. But let us speak frankly.
“Du are asking me to hand over Militia to du. Du are essentially requesting to separate our efforts with Crows. Du are saying ve should abandon zis area, zat it ist hopeless.
“Du have just arrived, Herr Pott, but there are a number of reasons on why zis vould be terrible decision.
“Du are no one’s fool, no one’s robot, an intelligent, ambitious man.
“If it ver three years ago, ze perfect candidate to be ‘Unfettered’, ja?”A strange voice. An ominous one.
…Perhaps sad and optimistic at the same time. The smile did not go away, but his eye smoldered into Stu.”Perhaps Ich should inform du of our current situation in full before du finalize your request?”
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jul 17, 2012 15:07:12 GMT -8
“Ich will leave zat up to your own discretion, Delilah. If du believe ethical... then by your own judgement, du may leave.
“If du believe zat vat vill be dicussed here will not compromise your position, nor your bias... then Ich will leave it up to you to stay. Of course, Herr Pott ay appreciate your departure, pending on ze nature of our discussion, or perhaps our... business, ja?”
She inclined her head with a small smile and relaxed into her chair, rubbing a lazy hand across the tender spots of her neck, kneading out the bruises. If her oldest friend – and the man who was like a brother to her – didn't mind, than she would remain, reluctant as she was to leave Stu's side. And pending Stu's thoughts about her staying...
“This isn't for you, it's for me.”
Well, that didn't seem to be on his mind at the moment.
Delilah listened with growing disquiet as Stu spoke, his vehemence overwhelming. It was much the same as their conversation on the beach earlier, and she passed “Unfettered' an exasperated look as if to say “DO YOU UNDERSTAND NOW?”. Listening to him talk about the world and the state it was in filled her with dread and a righteous anger that showed faintly on her face in the flare of her nostrils and the slight downwards turn of her mouth. Damn Barker. He had ravaged the world, not just America. But that wasn't quite as unnerving as how the conversation was playing out: Even though “Unfettered” had laughed at Stu's comment on the package, a tingle ran up her spine ever so slightly, though for the life of her she couldn't figure why.
The news of the world grew steadily more and more grim as Stu questioned why “Unfettered” would stay in such a broken place and she found herself frowning again. This was something she still felt strongly about, and while she thought “Unfettered” agreed with her to a certain extent, she also thought that – perhaps – he had different ideas and motives than herself. Not to say, of course, that Stu was wrong...he just shared his views in the path most logical for survival. Unfortunately, survival was not enough of a purpose for Delilah.
She watched the white-haired German as he sank into thought, his eyes far away and his face pensive. Her spine shivered again, and an idea struck her as to why.
In these next few minutes, something will change...whether it's good or bad, whatever happens next will put us on a path we won't be able to change.
A premonition or the delusion of someone who had recently suffered from a lack of oxygen? That remained to be seen.
A last, “Unfettered” looked up from his musings. She almost knew his words before he uttered them.
“Ich am sorry Delilah.”
She offered him a slight smile that didn't quite touch her eyes. “Not at all,” she replied calmly as she rose from her seat. She looked at Stu now, nodding her head. “I'll be outside the room when you're through.” And with that, she withdrew, closing the door gently behind her.
Outside, Delilah let out the breath she didn't know she was holding, pushing her strange thoughts from her mind and remembering her promise. “Now to find Dora,” she said to herself, starting off down the hallway Dora had disappeared down earlier. She had heard a mutter of 'sedatives in the food' as she departed...the mess hall, maybe? Deciding that was as good a place as any, she would start there.
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Post by Stu Pott on Oct 17, 2012 16:05:22 GMT -8
”Perhaps Ich should inform du of our current situation in full before du finalize your request?”
Stu had to think about this long and hard. Johnny didn't hand over the sword, only laughed and grasped it tighter, so maybe he had misinterpreted its intent. He was confused by the entire thing, to be honest, as Johnny seemed to be giving with one hand and taking away with the other.
"Well, boyo, you asked me to lead your militia. Now do you mean the gang or the crow underbelly? Either way, I'm making the calls, after getting the word from you. I've already accepted and you can't take it back now, but we do need to hammer out these details.
So tell me, what is the current situation? And will I get that stick your stroking so furiously or will I have to take you out to dinner first? I'm warnin ya, boyo, I'm a cheap date."
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