Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20190205035159/@comment-26571677-20191123121954

Alone in a darkened room, the man sat slightly hunched over a tablet; its bright screen illuminating his face to his surroundings; red and ornate.

The man in question, the Atlesian, as it were, was currently doing something quite unbecoming of a man in his position and with his power; he was chewing a pen.

It reminded him of the old days; back before wars were waged in subterfuge and battles fought in threats of threats and implications of implications. It reminded him of the times where he still had the body of a youth and the mind of a revolutionary; blinded and bedazzled by idealistic zeal.

And yet, now he sat, alone at his desk that was too big, reading the words on a message that was too long on a tablet that was too complex for him to comprehend.

He sucked in a sharp intake of air, highlighted a word, and replaced it with another one before shaking his head again and reverting to the old composition.

He was a man that chose his words in a very particular way. Nothing wasted, nothing out of place; but as much as it was a blessing in the worlds of less than savoury people; it was just as much a curse when you just needed to send a simple goddamned message.

Though in the same sense, the person receiving it was less than simple; it would be an insult to say anything of the sort, and such he was faced with an interesting conundrum; for a man so particular in words, how would he meet his match in a man so particular in the dissection of those very same words?

He deleted another word, replaced it with a conjunction.

The second curse came in the nature of the message; time sensitive and entirely dependent on circumstance. The disruption of the CCT system following Vale’s collapse had impacted his organisation’s ability to collect information by quite a large degree; not only had it fried most of their systems operated out of Vale, but it had disrupted the transmission channels inbetween, leaving them dead in the water for quite a while longer than he would have liked.

So even now, at this crucial point in his battle, he was still unable to access cameras, audio, hell, barely even the ability to send this godforsaken message he was writing.

He sighed, pushing himself back from the tablet on a chair that rolled for a little before coming to a stop.

He turned his head up, and waited in his deathly silence; permeated only by the annoying rattle of a too-loose grate. He’d have to get that fixed soon.

He looked back down at the tablet; the flashing line at the end of his last word disappearing and reappearing mockingly; as if a taunt for every single time he had reconsidered and rechose his words.

He stared at it for quite a while.

And with a nod of decisiveness, he pressed send, hoping it would reach the robot courier safely and in due time.

“To the man who would be known as ‘Century’,

''I have received word of what happened to the auction. As much of a tragedy as it is, it falls to the duty of the wise to take whatever silver lining one can from a bad situation. In this case, the lining comes in the form of a choice.''

''We happen to know that in your immediate vicinity lies a SAINT commander. If you were to dispose of this very same target, we here would be quite measurably within your debt. Of course, we recognize that we shan’t force you into a decision, and will offer you extraction regardless of your choice, but know that doing this would do wonders for your position in our eyes, and for your access to our own vast stores of information.''

As always, herein lies the choice.

We trust that you will make the best one; whichever that may be.

Malum ut serviant in lucem,

Lucius.

---

Dust’s eyes softened as Maris began her ramblings; it turned out that underneath all that mystery, all that combat training and skill, there still lay somebody that simply wanted to be happy in a world where friends and family need not die for something as small and meaningless as a few spoken words and underground secrets.

It didn’t strike him as surprising; not in the slightest.

“So I’m gonna remember all of you, and what you did…”

“Good, then I hope you remember your friend as well, for the good, not for the bad…”

And his words were cut off by a series of sickening thumps.

The sequence of a corpse bumping its way down a set of splintered and cracked stairs was almost comical to him; if not for what the body was. His mind tired at the thought of another confrontation; he wasn’t sure if his battered and bruised form could take another scuffle. He was thus incredibly thankful when the robot dropped the body and hastened off, but ever so slightly suspicious at the snappiness by which it tilted its head up and stared at the shore.

Nevertheless, he could tell that Maris needed time to grieve; time alone, without someone else to raise her guard, so that she could express her sorrow unbound. So with a slight groan, he patted her shoulder with his good arm and walked off; nary a single word to accompany.

He found Hazel first, who simply nodded and pointed at the shore; receiving a nod in kind as Dust moved off to collect what remained of the police force.

He saw the girl hunter next, her hand gripping his sword’s grip so hard that her knuckles were nearly white; her stance stiff and on guard as one of the Bluthardts’ medics tended to Jett.

Walking up Lustra’s side carefully, he traced the edge of the blade, noting how despite all the battle it had recently gone through, it still shone fiercely under the milky moon; sharp and dangerous as ever.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Crafted it meself at Beacon. A simpler design than most, aye, but I didn’t have much money back then so I made the best of what I had.”

He grinned, moving his hand under the hilt to feel at a barely noticeable switch.

“I did give the old girl some upgrades when I could though. For example…”

He clicked the switch and in less than the blink of an eye, it had expanded into the form of a rifle. He clicked it again and the barrel extended into a sniper rifle. With a final press, it folded in on itself and returned to its bladed form, as if nothing had ever happened.

“Pretty stokes huh?...Tell ya what, take the weapon back to HQ, you don’t look super prepared for a fight and something tells me that sword’ll be taken good care of under you. I’ll pick it up when I come in to give my report on the colossal fuckup that was tonight.”

The bump of the boat knocking against the pier was his indication that it was finally coming to a close. Hazel was soon at his side, her weapons holstered and ready to move.

One problem.

“You’re gonna come with a hunter and a SAINT to the city? I’ve seen your posters around, you’ll be arrested on the spot.”

“You don’t seriously think that I’ll let a bunch of halfwit cops arrest me, do you?”

“Maybe not, but what’re they gonna think when they see me in the company of one of the most wanted criminals around?”

That gave her pause and she nodded as she realized the implication.

“Then at least take this.”

She palmed into her hand a small black box, no bigger than a tube of lipstick with a tiny nub sticking out on the side and a big red button adorning its face.

“It’s a panic alarm, if something happens and you press this button, I’ll be there as quickly as I can manage.”

He nodded his thanks, and put it into his pocket, noting that Jett was still barely conscious, and that Lustra still looked like she was barely holding back the urge to cut someone.

“Well then, you better get going. Get a heads up before the police come so I don’t have to see you through bars next time we meet, eh?”

He managed to draw a smile from her; something rare, precious immeasurably to him. And she drew him in for a hug, laughing at his slight wince and wheeze as his bad arm was squeezed more than he was comfortable with.

“Take care, brother.”

And just like that, she was gone as quickly as she had appeared; like the phantom by which she had first seen him, standing in the wreck of a control room about to be flooded by Grimm, she was gone from sight like phantom fulfilled and now at peace.

He stood looking in the shadow of her direction for quite a while, until Jett’s slight grown woke him from his stupor, making him bend down to put her on his shoulders with a heavy grunt.

“Alright then Diaboli, I trust that you’ve had enough tussle tonight, so where are we headin’?”

(Aight, so NordVPN doesn't work, it keeps telling me that the connection times out when I try to connect to an obfuscated server. So for now, I'll talk to y'all through my msg board, if any of you come up with a solution to my problem with NordVPN or need to talk through plot, you can find me there.)