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Post by Volodja Uljanov on Jan 27, 2016 13:43:48 GMT
Volodja was kissing Sandy passionately and confessing to her between kisses how much he loves her, how worried he was when she went missing again and how happy he is that she wasn't lost any more. Sophie also took a chance and went to kiss Sarge, but she remembered her duties as an EGO psyche soon and with regret, she concentrated her attention to outside world again, although she wanted to be with Mike. After awhile Sophie became worried abut wise woman's behaviour and told about her worries to Volodja who kept Sandy's hand in his as he was afraid that she will be gone again.
When the "supper" was served, Volodja also looked at the wise woman secretly and acknowledged Sandy: "For some reason I do not like that frowned face of Pucu. No matter how good some book might be and how good were author's intentions, you can't base all your life according to that book. It usually ends up with trouble. Marx, Nietzsche and those people who wrote bunch of religious base texts could not foretell that someone considers them to be the universal source of knowledge and one and only truth and tries to eliminate anyone else with different opinion about the truth. I am afraid that this might be one of those cases.
See - that woman still believes what she read, not her eyes and ears, because she should understand by now that we are not Belle and Vo, but Sandy and Volodja, and yet she refuses to think otherwise. When true facts finally hit her consciousness, she might get really upset and accuse us being imposters, although you killed that deathclaw for real, and that makes YOU the true heroine of this tribe. She also might call us blasphemers or something like that because she might feel that her position of being all wise is endangered by that prophecy. We need matters of precaution here, I think. I believe that Sophie and Sarge can get astral on her and talk some sense to that woman in the spirit of lot of great stories, starting from Dickens's "Christmas Carol's" ghosts and ending with Casper the Friendly Ghost just in case. But nothing hasn't happened yet, so let us enjoy the celebration. I do hope that I am just overly suspicious and we can enjoy the feast as our hosts do."
And Volodja kissed Sandy with even greater passion and tenderness while most of people around them ate, chatted, danced their ritual dances and had a good time...
_________
Sentenza inspected abandoned battleground, discovering flat tire and a car-jack. There were also remains of some sort of animal, but since smaller predators and insects didn't waste any time when free dinner is served (nature can be seen as one huge recycling process where almost everything is usable with one major exception - majority of human produced waste remains to be a waste for a long time). Sentenza couldn't tell any more to whom those remains of remains belonged to. Few chewed bones and bloody rags of meat weren't enough to make assumptions and actually it didn't matter anyway - Those truck tracks, he spotted, lead on and that could mean only one thing - truck and it's passengers moved on in a hurry because the quite good car jack was left behind, so whatever caused them to leave in a hurry, could not be friendly.
That thought made Sentenza to scratch his head, because now he had to decide what to do. He could either follow those tracks or look for more clues in the jungle, but that place seemed to be dangerous. Plus one more thing, Sentenza had to consider - whoever that street urchin was working for could be following him by now, so staying there didn't seemed to be a good idea at all. If Sentenza could know that he is already tailed by Mr. Wynd and Mr. Kyd who were observing him through their binoculars in that precise moment, he would have been even more worried, because those gentlemen discussed peacefully about feeding him to wild animals. Preferably while he is still alive.
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Post by Marcel Lestrange on Jan 28, 2016 18:44:34 GMT
"I am sorry. Was not paying attention to your words," said Marcel Lestrange to thin Castithan who didn't bothered to introduce himself. But according to his arrogance, he was probably some Castithan noble from some impoverished family who had to work for his slice of white bread. And for him it meant being a courier who delivered data about Lena Marr as a payment for Marcel's "services" in Lima. "I asked, what's the fuss about some working caste Castithan girl? Man with your position could afford something...more luxurious." "Mon ami," Marcel began in fatherly manner and before continuing their conversation, looked at picture of Lena Marr in his wallet and sighed. Lena was posing on the red carpet, completely naked, smiling seductively into the camera because man who took that picture happened to be Marcel himself. He didn't bothered to show that picture to the courier, because it was meant for his eyes only. "You seem to underestimate my equal partner," he continued. "I would not have done it if I was in your place. She worked her way up the down staircase while some other people were busy with, how to put it politely?...Oui - declassing! That is why Lena Marr deserves respect, mon ami. For her intelligence, determination and willpower. Can you hand me my payment now?" Castithan handed over the small data pad and forced himself to smile when Marcel put a scrip note into his chest pocket as a tip. One way to humiliate others is to do it by being generous towards them. Marcel knew how it might affect a former noble when someone gives him a generous tip to pint out that his position as a nouveau riche on feeding chain of society had become higher than former noble's. "Thank you mon ami. We do might have a different opinion about some people, but as a sign of my well meant intentions, allow me to lead you out personally." Saying that Marcel was politeness himself. He continued being polite by opening door to the courier and putting his hand to his shoulder to support him when he headed downstairs. Suddenly his leg happened to be on the path of the courier, who stumbled on it, fell and rolled to the ground floor. "I think that it is enough to prove my point about people who are going down, instead of moving up," stated Marcel calmly and added by himself: "Nobody humiliates my beloved Lena even behind her back and gets away with it, you degenerate. My Lena is worth dozens of your kind. And now I am going to see what you can tell me about her disappearance, before I decide what to do next." And Marcel lit a cigarette, before diving into the mind work.  |
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Post by Sandy Bell on Jan 28, 2016 18:56:21 GMT
Sandy frowned when Volodja voiced his worry that Pucu might be a crazed zealot rather than the harmless old loon Sandy thought her to be. That said, Sandy didn't want to give the old lady a heart attack by sending out their EGO psyches as holograms to scare her straight, so to speak, so she said to him, "Voldja, let me go talk to her before we do anything drastic."
After giving him a quick but affectionate peck on the cheek, Sandy reluctantly left his side, dodging and darting through the dancing throng in the communal hut until she reached the corner where the old lady was sitting alone, still looking through the paperback book entitled, "Confessions of an Arkhunter: The Adventures of Belle Starr." Sandy forced a grin on to her tanned pretty face, then bent over and whispered into Pucu's ear.
"You DO know I'm not Belle Starr and - " Sandy pointed to where Volodja still sat, "THAT is not Vo Kshaa!"
The wizened old lady smiled a toothless smile before saying, "Of course I do! They would never use your real names and would change the descriptions of you two, or you would be mobbed by your followers! Who ever heard of an Irathiant with cyan eyes and a purple Mohawk anyway!?!? What woman could be that beautiful and so graceful that when she fights it looks like she is dancing!?!? I KNOW all about changing the names to protect the innocent!"
The old lady laughed, then gestured for Sandy to come closer and when Sandy did so, Pucu whispered in her ear, " I KNOW oh great huntress with sunshine for hair and eyes the color of the sky, Belle Starr is your avatar!"
Sandy stood up frowning, wondering if it was worth the effort to explain the truth to the old woman, and deciding it was not. Instead, she smiled warmly at Pucu, saying in a kind tone, "Well then, sounds like you have it all figured out. We'll just keep this our secret then, shall we?"
When the old lady nodded her agreement, Sandy took her leave, slowly making her way through the crowd back to Volodja, plopping into the seat next him and saying, "Harmless old loon like I thought!"
Sandy then sat leaning back into Volodja's comfortable arms to watch the villagers dancing and partying, but thinking in the back of her mind, "I sure hope I'm right."
Meanwhile in Cuzo, a burly and tall Irathient dressed in the uniform of a Votan Collective military commander raised a small Liberata in an ill fitting white suit and fedora by the scruff his neck and shook him, saying in a gruff and angry voice, "On your word, we flew ahead in a helicopter to spring the trap to catch Sandy Bell here in Cuzco and you fail to bring her when you had her in your hands!?!?! What kind of man are you!?!?!"
"The kind of man scared by big clawed horned monsters," Yelled the Liberata who was small even by Liberata standards, "Did I mention the sharp teeth? Okay, I panicked! I'm a coward! That satisfy you!"
The Irathient commander took a deep breath as he clenched his teeth, shaking the Liberata one more time before setting him on the ground and dusting off the shoulders of the small man's suit before saying a with a forced calm, "What's done is done. You will now take me and my commandoes to where you last saw Sandy Bell alive, and for your sake, she better still be!"
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Post by Volodja Uljanov on Jan 28, 2016 20:17:44 GMT
"Damn glad that I was mistaken," said Voldoja, enjoying the firmness and warmth of Sandy's body and that feeling of thousand butterflies on his stomach, caused by that physical contact. His mind could say that his inner butterfly effect was a physiologic phenomena, caused by reduction of blood flow and release of adrenaline, which caused increased heart rate and blood pressure, consequently sending more blood to the muscles. But his heart knew that love they shared was the main reason of those butterflies. It was a really awesome feeling when Sandy looked at him, said something to him, kissed or touched him, making him unsure what to do in that moment, except to feel extremely happy. Old Pucu stumbled closer and whispered to Volodja. "You don't have to worry, Volodja the Unmentioned. Your woman with sunshine for her hair and eyes blue as a sky with bravery in her heart and wisdom on her mind spoke to me and asked me to treasure your secret. Her wish is sacred to me." Volodja smiled warmly before saying: "Pucu the Wise. I owe you an apologize about my careful attitude towards you. Can you forgive me?" Pucu smiled both with her toothless mouth and her eyes which were surrounded by countless wrinkles and said: "Young man with old eyes. I might be old and not that that bright as I used to be, but let me tell that you behaved as a sensible man would do. Only fool walks in the jungle without looking in front of his feet to prove his bravery. Wise man watches out for a catchers on his path and snakes in the grass. Not because he is afraid, but because he is careful. And only wise man is willing to admit that he might be wrong. You two are worthy of each other, young ones." Pucu smiled to the loving couple, turned around and went back to her seat while Sandy leaned herself as close to Volodja as possible while music kept playing and feast went on. Another minor accident happened when Mapi pulled a piece of meat into his throat and started to choke because of that. Volodja jumped to his feet, whispering: "My chance to help." to Sandy, stepped behind Mapi and completed a perfect Heimlich manoeuvre by using his hands to exert pressure on the bottom of Mapi's diaphragm. That compressed his lungs and exerted pressure on the object lodged in the Mapi's trachea, making Mapi to cough out that meat chunk which almost became his last meal. Since everyone near by were interested of learning that technique, Volodja explained the proper way to do it, by recommending that the rescuer should place his or her fist just above the bellybutton of the patient and grasping with other hand. Another tip he gave was recommending was using upward thrusts as if trying to lift the person, He also explained when one can do that mnouvre and what might be the consequences which may occur to the patient because of use of physical strength.  When all the hassle around that event faded away and people continued partying as before, Volodja returned to Sandy and resumed his position as her lean chair, the old chief Quando approached them and with the help of his older son Ake who spoke English, thanked them for their help for his tribe and helping his younger son Mapi. After that he asked what he could give them in return. Volodja pondered about that a bit and asked to hear some local legends, making an old chief to give him amazed and yet amused look and say to him: "You are a strange young man. You could ask for riches and yet you just want to hear some old stories." Sandy grinned at his remark and explained: "That is part of his nature. He is interested about everything which is worth preserving. This man's considers knowledge to be his riches." The old Chief told them few stories about local spirits like El Tunchi and El Chullanchaqui, because these stories (brought to you in a Reader's Digest like short versions while Volodja heard them in full length) also old about something worth to be preserved and protected - the rainforest: El Tunchi El Tunchi is a soul of someone who died in the rainforest and is doomed to wander relentlessly in the darkness of the night. The Tunchi is said to retrace the same path in the rainforest that he followed during his life. Typically there is an eerie silence when the Tunchi is close by, and the Tunchi announces his presence with a faint sound and then comes close to you. The sound makes you shiver. It is a shrill, hissing sound that sends a shiver up your spine. Later when the Tunchi leaves you, the sound becomes lost in the night in the deepness of the jungle. According to this legend, the Tunchi is a guardian of the rainforest and will not harm those who respect the flora and fauna living there. However, those who harm the rainforest by cutting down its trees or killing its animals will face the wrath of the Tunchi as he will relentlessly haunt and terrorize the offender.  El ChullanchaquiThought to protect the Amazon rainforest, the dwarf-like creature known as el Chullanchaqui waits for invaders to stumble across his territory and then leads them into the dark wilderness - never to be seen again. It's been said that he can shape-shift, often taking on the form of a loved one. But you'll know you've been following el Chullanchaqui if you notice a distinct set of tracks: the mark of a small human foot on one side and a round hole-either a peg leg, or possibly the cloven hoof of a goat - on the other. The footprints of el Chullanchaqui are a sure indicator that you've travelled down the wrong path. For the inhabitants of the Amazon, the little man with a peg leg represents what happens to those who disrespect their natural surroundings.  Voldoja listened carefully, memorized everything he heard and told Sandy that he was sorry that put her through that tale telling because of his selfish curiosity. Then was Sandy's turn to wish for something for her heroic deed. Volodja surrounded her with his arms, thrust his his chin gently forward so it was hovering above Sandy's shoulder and waited her response. Author of this post wishes to thank everyone who wrote and published those texts he used, making the writing process considerably easier. |
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Post by Marcel Lestrange on Jan 31, 2016 8:03:54 GMT
"You were thrown down the stairs after treating you as a servant," stated human with emotionless manner. "And it happened after you allowed yourself some personal remarks about Mr. Letrange's business and private life. Thank you for that information."
"What about compensation? I demand satisfaction from Lestrange!" said Castithan.
"We do not live in the noble times when duels were they proper way to handle situations like that. Besides we must see the larger picture and consider efficiency of both disagreeing sides."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Castithan with a hint of irritation in his voice.
"Allow me to explain," answered human and nodded. Another man in a dark suit stepped out from the shadows where he was waiting the signal to enter the stage and deliver the short message which contents were dependant on circumstances - it was supposed to be either a stick or a carrot. With an abrupt move that dark suited man sunk his hidden blade into the stomach of Castithan and turned it couple of times inside the wound.
"You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting," the human said, looking into the face of Castithan right before he collapsed to the floor. "Get rid of that that body!" he ordered. "We can't allow the luxury of having couriers with outdated manners as living in his former glory. Mr. Lestrange has proven to be as an efficient asset with a weak spot, we can use in our interests. I believe that Mr. Lestrange can help us about reluctance of another outdated but still useful relic, we want."
_________
Aforementioned Marcel Lestrange was busy with talking with Tommasino Di Angelo - the Consigliere of the Tarr Family, who was forced to work also for Marcel Lestrange after one certain knife accident which cost Tommasino all his new recruits and ended with framing himself for that mass slaughter, via his hailer.
"Why don't you speak with Slipknot, Marcello?"
"Because last time I saw him was in Defiance, not in Lima. Somewhy I happen to know more about whereabouts of your contacts than you seem to. That is why we changed places and you are working for me now, not the opposite, as it was on the beginning of this business relationship of ours."
"I'll have to think about that problem then," said Tommasino. "Who's the guy you want to be tailed there, anyway?"
"This is not exactly YOUR business, dear Tommasino, but that business of that man who is going after him, but it is one Mr. Volodja Uljanov if you want to know. Just find me someone who is able to keep a track of him. Now you can save that man from the trouble of telling you, whom he is going to tail, so use that saved time wisely. By that, I mean finding me that man. And PRONTO!"
"Will be done, Marcello. I'll let you know when I have my people ready. By the way: "Pronto" is a Spanish word for acting without delay. In Italian "Pronto" means being ready." Tommasino replied with enlarged amount of enthusiasm in his voice, making Marcel to wonder about Tommasino's change of mood so quickly...
"I expect you to say, that man I need, is ready to work, when you call me next time," said Marcel calmly. "Have a productive day, Tommasino."
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Post by Sandy Bell on Jan 31, 2016 22:24:09 GMT
Sandy Bell's blue eyes narrowed as she looked at Chief Quando and pondered his offer of reward from her comfortable seat leaning into her lover's strong arms, then said, "No reward necessary, Chief! Killing bad guys and saving innocent civilians is what a good soldier does! Still... we could use somebody to lead us to Cuzco in the morning," Sandy looked at Volodja, turning back to the chief and asking, "However, we sure could use a nice... private place to spend the night and have some... quality time together."
Ake smiled before translating Sandy's request to the Chief, who smiled an identical smile that showed the family resemblance between father and son before he gestured to a young woman and gave her orders in their native language. The woman also resembled the chief and his son, and Sandy briefly wondered how many children the old chief actually had. The woman gestured to the couple to follow her, and after Sandy and Volodja took their leave from their new friends, the woman led them to a small hut at the edge and slightly apart from the rest of the village.
As Sandy and Volodja enjoyed a peaceful night together, Commander Kima and his squad of Irathient commandos searched the area of Volodja and Sandy's battle with the Deathclaw, while their Liberata guide napped in the passenger seat of their ten-ton truck with his white fedora pulled over his forehead and eyes. As the commandos finished their grid search of the area, they gathered next to the truck to share their findings, which were sparse. They found the remains of the creature, which was little since the jungle scavengers had picked its bones clean, but found no trace of the their human quarry, Sandy Bell.
"The scanner found no trace of human blood, so evidently the creature didn't even touch Bell or her male friend, which is incredible in itself, considering the size and sharpness of the teeth I found from the monster's remains," Noted the Commando sergeant, then added regretfully, "Unfortunately, their footprints suddenly disappeared under a plethora of others, all of which were barefooted. My best guess is that one of the tribes in the area rescued them, and they are there now, but I haven't a clue which one. Sorry sir."
"Don't be too hard on yourself Sergeant Maas, we will pick up her trail if we have to search every village in the region," Replied the tall muscular commander looking dapper in a freshly pressed military uniform of the Votan Collective.
"There's a better way," Said the diminutive Liberata in the wrinkled white suit as he pushed his white fedora up from his beady black eyes. "They'll be headed to Cuzco."
Commander Rima looked intently but impassively at the Liberata still sitting in the truck's passenger seat, then asked, "And how do you know this Mr. Da Vinci?"
Danny Da Vinci smiled as he replied, "All part of the service, boss. But its simple once you think about it. They will want to call their friends in the Bay Area to come take them home. None of the native villages having any way to make such a long distance call - or any call come to think of it. Lima and Cuzco are the only towns big enough near here to have such communication capabilities, and since they were chased out of Lima, that leaves Cuzco. That's where they will be headed, and that's where we should go to wait for them - and get out of this stinking heat and these thrice cursed mosquitoes! Both are hell on my delicate complexion."
Commander Rima swallowed the sarcastic remark that was on the tip of his tongue, as he realized he still needed the fur covered Liberata's cooperation, so he merely yelled to his men, "Okay, everybody back in the truck! Sergeant Maas, take the wheel and get us to Cuzco as fast as possible. We have a welcome party to prepare for Ms. Bell and her traveling companion."
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Post by Belle Starr on Feb 1, 2016 0:33:38 GMT
SPOILER ALERT: Don't read Belle Starr's posts in MIA if you plan on playing Fallout 4! "You killed Kellogg Belle," Said Nick Valentine, the look on his synthetic face indiscernible. "He and his synthetic soldiers would have killed us if we hadn't," Said Bell Starr grimly, her blue eyes hard as diamonds, "We both knew this was a trap to end my quest to find my son. The Institute has him, and they don't want to give him back. Besides, Kellogg told us all he was going to." "But you shot first - that's not like you Belle," Continued the android detective from Diamond City whom she had saved from mobsters several weeks ago. "It is when I'm trying to find my son! I will do anything to get him back, and if it takes lying, cheating, and even shooting first - that's what I'll do! Everything I've done since I woke up has been done to help me find my son! My taking over leadership of the Minutemen, my setting up of a string of over a dozen settlements, my networking among the powers that be in Diamond City and Good Neighbors - all done to find my son!" Nick Valentine's brain waves were based on those of a pre-war police detective, and despite his robotic eyes and torn synthetic skin, Belle thought of him more as a human than as a robot, even though he was a prototype for the modern more human-like but often less humane synthetics that were replacing humans across the Commonwealth; but even knowing that, she was surprised when he asked, "Does that include your relationship with Piper Wright?" Piper Wright had been the first person she met from Diamond City, the settlement within the old baseball arena where she had watched the Boston Red Sox play with her now dead husband only a week before the war. Piper was ten years her junior; a pretty, bright and oh-so-idealistic young woman - a crusading reporter defending freedom of the press long after the Bill of Rights that freedom was based on had died. Piper had helped Belle get past the Diamond City gate guards the day they met, and after adventuring for weeks together, Piper fell in love with Belle and Belle with her. Belle had even put away her old wedding ring into a drawer and was beginning to start a new life with Piper, raising Piper's little sister together - but then Valentine, who had volunteered to help Belle find her son, found Kellogg, the scarred man Belle had seen kill her husband and steal her son while she was still frozen in the cryogenic chamber. "Yes, I used Piper like I will use anybody who can help me find my son," Belle lied, planning on packing her meager belongings in the morning and leaving the flat she had bought to be their home in Diamond City to follow the trail to Good Neighbor. Belle had realized long ago that she needed a powerful group to help her invade the Institute to get her son back, and she knew the Minutemen were neither powerful nor organized enough to get the job done. Belle had heard of a group called the Railroad, who helped synths escape the Institute and start new lives, and thought that a group that openly defied the Institute's will might just be one powerful enough help her invade the Institute's headquarters and rescue her son. Belle looked down at her armored feet, her submachine gun now pointing at the ground, as she lied, knowing she was headed into a life-threatening danger she didn't want to drag Piper into but also knowing that Piper had filled a void in her life that she didn't want to have return either. Belle knew she was fooling herself, albeit it not successfully, when she said that her relationship with Piper was a sham, and she knew that she wasn't fooling Nick either. Nick Valentine reminded her of the old film noir detectives she liked from the films before the nuclear war and her long cryogenic sleep. And just like those detectives, he was very good at his job and at seeing through human deceptions, even when those deceptions were meant only to fool themselves. "Nick, thanks for all your help but I have to go it alone now. Say goodbye for me and explain to Piper that I did what I had to do to find my son, and ask her to forget me and not try to find me," Asked Belle before disappearing into the dark night, but not before adding," And please Nick... don't tell her I shot first."  |
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Post by Volodja Uljanov on Feb 1, 2016 15:28:13 GMT
The morning was...let's say that the morning was like Grieg's piece. Nocturnal creatures finished their shift and returned to their beds to sleep and digest smaller nocturnal creatures, they hunted and ate during the night. Next eat and sleep shift, this time for local daytime fauna, had begun...
Sandy Bell and Volodja Uljanov greeted that day in the small hut on the verge of Indian village spooning in their bed, naked and relaxed after...ehem...intensive evening. Sandy slept peacefully in Volodja's embrace, because just as a night before, Volodja ended up with spooning Sandy.
Volodja yawned and since he had to wake Sandy up as well, he kissed gently the tip of her petite nose, making Sandy to open her big blue eyes and begin her day with a melodic sigh and another good morning kiss, Volodja gave to her lips this time.
"I could use a cup of coffee," Volodja said after their morning cuddle and hummed some tunes from Bach's "Coffee cantata" since there wasn't any hope to get some, so he had to replace it with a tune and something else Sandy offer him - that sweet taste of her lips. "I must disagree with Bach a bit here - your kisses taste better than coffee," concluded Volodja after another kiss he received from Sandy.
Someone scratched hut's door and after lovers made themselves decent, Mapi's face appeared into the doorway and he wiped to Volodja that he should come out from the hut. Tribesmen were gathering to the village square and were discussing about something. By the looks on their faces, that something seemed to be something really important. And actually it was because Ake stepped closer to tell him:
"It's really embarrassing to ask another favour so soon after the sunshine haired woman killed that monster, but....can you convince the mighty warrior girl to help us once more? Our lookout just arrived and told that squad of local slave hunters are on the move...so if the great huntress is not mind killing them all, then..."
Volodja pondered a bit and replied: "I am willing to help you and your tribe, Ake. I am sure that Sandy is willing to help you as well. Although I am not that sure about killing those, because I have an idea how to take care of the problem without spilling too much blood and make them forgetting about the slave trade for some time...It's going to be fun. At least I hope so. But first we need to hear what Sandy has to say about my crazy plans."
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Post by Sandy Bell on Feb 2, 2016 0:45:48 GMT
The morning was sunny in the native village, but Sandy Bell's mood was anything but when she heard the terrible news. "No coffee, huh?" Said Sandy with a glum look on her tanned pretty face. "This is fucking South America - shouldn't there be coffee somewhere around here!?!? I think I would rather face more of those horned bastards than face a day without coffee. Where is a Starbucks when you need one?" The surrounding natives had no idea what Sandy was talking about, partially because most of them spoke no English and partially because Starbucks, the coffee chain that was everywhere when she was an EMC Captain at the beginning of the Pale Wars, had been gone for over two decades. However, as if on cue, the young Indian woman who had shown the pair of lovers to their hut the night before, and whose name was Mayra, brought a tray of drinks to the group. Sandy picked up one of the glasses when it was offered, but seeing the thick purple liquid within, had to fight the urge to wrinkle her small nose in distaste, especially when she smelled its sickly sweet aroma. The native chief urged her to drink it with several excited utterances in his native tongue that she didn't understand, so she only hesitated for a second before tasting it at his urging. Sandy reasoned that the woman who the natives revered as the mighty huntress with hair of sunshine and eyes the color of the sky, who had killed the legendary Death Claw with a single shot, could not and would not be deterred by a mere drink, no matter how bad it looked or smelled, so Sandy took a small sip expecting the worse.  "I have a reputation to maintain, I guess," Thought Sandy to herself. "Don't worry," Said Sarge, her EGO's psyche, over the telepathic link they shared, "If there is anything poisonous in it, I'll counter it!" "Thanks loads Sarge," Sandy thought back sardonically, but a huge grin spread across Sandy's tanned face as the pleasantly sweet taste of the native drink rolled over her tongue, and she purred, "Hmmmmmm - this is really good! What is it?" Ake, the native interpreter for the Chief and his son, as well as the only one Sandy had found in the village who spoke fluent English, answered with a smile, "Chicha Morado. It is a typical Peruvian non-alcoholic drink. It's prepared from a base of purple maize, known as maiz morado. Traditionally the purple maize is boiled with chunks of pineapple, quinces, cinnamon and cloves in water until the maize is soft and the liquid has taken on the deep purple color. It is known to give great energy to those who abide in it." "Please, fill me a canteen with it for the road! I think I'm officially in love," Sandy's blue eyes quickly turned to Volodja with a mischievous gleam as she remarked with a cocky grin, "I love you deeply Volodja, but you have some SERIOUS competition here!" After Ake translated and they all had a good laugh, Sandy's face turned grim as she changed the topic, "Ake, please tell your father we will help the village in any way we can against these raiders. There is not much worse then enslaving another human being and taking away their free will, so of course I'm just as happy as Volodja to help, but..." Sandy bit her lower lip as she figured out how to voice her reservations before continuing, "I'd rather not leave a trail of bread crumbs in the form of dead bodies for the guys who are chasing us to follow, and I'd like to get to Cuzco ASAP to do an ET and phone home, so if Volodja had an idea how to dissuade the slavers from ever bothering you again, I'm all ears. Personally, I'd like to just shoot the bitches and call it a day, but if there are more than six, than I don't have enough bullets, and the survivors might remember a girl with blue eyes and blond hair as the shooter." Sandy turned to Volodja and said sincerely, "Don't know what you have in mind, but I'm sure it will be brilliant! Just remember - I'll have to play a limited role if we are going to leave the bad guys alive, for a blue-eyed blond girl seen in an Amazonian jungle stands out like a sore thumb!" |
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Post by Volodja Uljanov on Feb 2, 2016 6:43:59 GMT
"They had a major coffee export going on before the wartimes," explained Volodja. "But wars aren't good for such an export article as coffee. Weapons, fuel, ammo, drugs and army rations take that place. Besides - I guess that coffee farming is not among priorities of our hosts who seem to be more of a hunter type anyway. And looks like that you have found a replacement for coffee which seems to endanger my position in your heart." Volodja sipped his cup of Chicha Morado and said: "This is GOOD! But we must think about the bad and the ugly as well. I believe that that bunch of slavers are local folk, because they are roaming around confidently and seem to know these parts very well, right?" Ake nodded silently and Volodja continued: "So they inherited all the local folklore as well. I felt kind of guilty for messing with the cultural heritage of these nice people with my unpredicted appearance, so it's time for local spirits to show up and give a memorable performance which guarantees them rightful place in collective consciousness and subconsciousness for decades to come. It also means that we don't have to do much work. These slavers will do everything by themselves after we stimulate their imagination. I am the part time trickster after all and what tricksters usually do? They mess with people's minds and then they stand back to enjoy the view. And that's exactly the thing we are going to do." Volodja gave Sandy apologizing glance because he was caught into the magic of words and realized that he talked way too much, so went more particular about his idea: "Our honourable chief Quando was kind enough to provide us with records of El Tunchi and El Chullanchaqui. Since I dare to make a statement that there isn't such a thing as useless knowledge, because every piece of information might become useful when circumstances are right, then I must prove that my statement is correct one. First I need a carving knife and some carving material. Before you ask why, I will explain: Making false foot- or paw prints is an old method to mislead all kind of people, including border guards, because spies used it to disguise their border crossing attempts. I am going to make a pair of footprint slippers - let's call them Ashiato as Japanese would do - with the prints of El Chullanchaqui. One bare foot and a peg leg, or possibly the cloven hoof of a goat to honour one certain Chris Robet. El Chullanchaqui will be the warm up performer and prepare audience for El Tunchi who hopefully is able to give a great stage act. The best part is - slavers don't have to see any of us, because their minds will be doing most of the work. Demoting them into lab rats to study their behaviour in stressful environment will serve as rightful punishment for being slavers and making profit at the cost of other's freedom and peace of victim's minds. Damn! I am talking too much again. Sorry for that."  |
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Post by Sandy Bell on Feb 2, 2016 8:34:49 GMT
Sandy Bell furrowed up her brow as Volodja explained his plan and it was obvious he was been too oblique until suddenly her blue eyes widened and she grinned, exclaiming, "I get it! you are going to scare the slavers so bad they'll never come back! That's brilliant, just like I knew it would be!"  With that said, Sandy kissed Volodja full on the lips, than stood against him clinging to his arm with a pleased look on her face as if to proclaim to the world, "This is MY man! He's a genius and he's mine, making me the luckiest girl in the world!" After a moment of girlish pride however, the soldier in Sandy reasserted itself and the grin on her lush lips was replaced with a pout of grim resolve as she said, "Okay, what can I do to help? Where do you want me?," Than she added with a good-natured laugh, "And don't say in the bedroom!" |
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Post by Volodja Uljanov on Feb 2, 2016 17:40:18 GMT
Sandy's kiss lasted another miniature eternity. At least Volodja felt that time stopped for them and he was floating in space among star systems, but when Sandy asked about her duties, Volodja returned to Earth, looked into her baby blue eyes and said:
"I believe that every one of us gets something to do. We are going to work together on this one. You and I, our EGO psyches and our Indian friends. For example - Mapi has the honour of playing El Chullanchaqui. He is going to leave some footprints with these nice wooden slippers. Since El Chullanchaqui is supposed to be short, then we need someone short and light weighted to play his part and Mapi is perfect for that." Mapi looked at him questioningly, so Volodja encouraged him:
"Do not worry Mapi. We won't do any harm when we let you play him. I believe that El Chullanchaqui would like that thought because he would be in our side in this righteous fight."
Volodja's mouth and mind worked fast, but so did his hands which transformed couple of wooden planks into a pair of ashiatos (Japanese word "ashiato" actually means footprint or footstep so it was a proper name for those hand made slippers indeed) and provided them with belts so Mapi could wear them.
"Here you go, Mapi," said Volodja handing them over to their user. "You need to practice walking with them now, because we need you to move smoothly when things get real. Train hard, fight easy, they say."
Mapi started to patter around in his slippers. His movement was a bit clumsy at beginning, because he wasn't used with that kind of footwear but since he was agile, he learned fast and since he had playful nature (he was still quite young), he turned the learning process into a gameplay. Soon he was moving around freely, trying different walking styles and steps and proud grin enlightened his face, making everyone around him smile too.
"That's awfully nice and so on," said Sandy, playfully nudging him with her elbow. "But you still haven't told us, who is going to be the other spirit."
"As a director of this little play, called "Spooking the slavers", I decided that part of El Tunchi will be played by me. And by you as well, when needed. And our stunt doubles - Sophie and Sarge. But mainly by me. Not because I am the greatest living actor, but because I don't want anyone else to risk their necks. Especially when that part demands certain talents only you and I possess. That act is all about eerie silence and a sudden shrilling noise on victim's ears. El Tunchi steps by victim's side, makes some terrible noise and disappears, leaving some scared crowd behind. The best way to do it is using Cloak." Volodja smiled to her and continued in more serious manner:
"Your part could be even harder, Sandy, because we need one of them to disappear without a trace and what is most important - unspotted by others. That should scare the rest of them, add some mysticism and support the forest spirit version. I'd suggest that the cruellest slaver will be the unlucky winner," said Volodja seriously and added after thinking: "I can help you with that and I am willing to help you with making him disappear permanently. I am kind of used to have some guilty blood on my hands."
He knew that Sandy used to be a soldier who's job was shooting to kill. He was absolutely sure that Sandy's performance is going to be most professional and she is very resourcful when it comes to fighting. And yet he hesitated, because he was very well aware that killing someone in battlefield and killing unaware enemy, no matter how bad that enemy might be, are different matters. And since Volodja loved Sandy very much, he tried to avoid the situation where Sandy's shining shield gets tainted and her conscious burdened. She already had her fair share of horrors of war and Volodja didn't want to put her through them again. But he also knew that Sandy is a mature woman who is perfectly capable of deciding herself and that is why he just suggested that he should help her with that possible kill.
Volodja turned to Ake and asked: "Mirror mirror on the wall. Who is the cruellest of them all?"
Ake stared back at him, trying to understand what Volodja said first and when he did, he compared slavers and their habits on his mind and told: "Antonio Garcia. Rest of Garcias are llamas compared with him."
"Rest of Garcias?" asked Volodja.
"Yes - there are more than one Garcia in that gang and they are not even related to each other. Only man with a different last name is Rodriguez. He used to be Garcia too, but changed his last name to Rodriguez. Maybe he wanted to be different from others."
"Really original of him," muttered Volodja. "To change the most common Hispanic surname for the second most common one." Then he continued with louder voice. "Are we ready to put the Garcia Gang out of their business?"
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Post by Sandy Bell on Feb 3, 2016 17:32:34 GMT
Sandy Bell knew Volodja was trying to protect her - again! "He looks at me with that worried puppy dog look just before he get all noble and tries to keep me out of the action," Thought Sandy to herself as a frown passed quickly over her tan pretty face. "Doesn't he know I'm a trained soldier and veteran of the Pale Wars. Hell, I was the hero of Mt. Tam when I led the charge against the Votan gun emplacement there waving the EMC flag all the way."
"Until you got shot by Atticus who was on the other side and in his other persona," Sarge, her EGO psyche, reminded her through the telepathic link they shared, "And if you remember, you also technically died in the Pale Wars."
Sandy winced at that statement, then retorted, "Well I was a pretty damn good soldier up until then, wasn't I? The EMC made me a captain..."
"You came in as a Lieutenant because of your ROTC training and your Engineering degree, then made Captain in a battlefield promotion because of that stunt at Mt. Tam and the fact that snipers like Atticus - maybe just Atticus - were taking out our officers left and right," Explained Sarge patiently, "That was just one of the reasons I never took a promotion - that and I felt I could do a better job of keeping our squad, including you, alive as an NCO. I did a pretty good job doing that for the first two years of the war, until you went it alone on that espionage job into what is now Fortress Kshaa, and got yourself imploded into cold storage for several decades in some other dimension."
Sage could feel Sandy's shoulders sag with the realization that he was right, so added to soften the blow, "Listen, you were a good soldier - maybe not a damn good soldier, but a good one. You maybe followed orders too blindly and had too many patriotic and heroic stars in those baby blue eyes of yours, but you were good at what soldiers do. More importantly, you were the best officer I ever served under. You cared about you men, and always figured the best tactics to keep them alive. They cared about you too, and would have done anything you asked of them. Not many officers can say that. As for Volodja, he more than cares for you, he loves you deeply, and that is why he always tries to protect you."
"I know that," Sandy grinned again as she looked at Volodja as he prepared his trap for the slavers, "I just hope he knows I love him just as deeply and want to keep him safe too."
"He knows," Affirmed Sarge, "But like any man in love, he can't be told that enough by the woman he loves."
Sandy's grin grew bigger as she walked towards Volodja, thinking to her EGO psyche, "Thanks Sarge - for the advice and the pep talk!
Sandy embraced Volodja from behind, kissing him on the neck then whispering in his ear as she put the Magnum revolver into his waistband, "I love you deeply Volodja, but I've been trained to kill a person over a dozen ways with a knife and I can make a ghillie suit too. So, in this case, don't think of me as your true love, but as a lethal weapon that just needs to be pointed in the right direction."
In Cuzco, Commander Kima sat huddled over a small desk covered in reports for him to fill out in the hotel room that had become his makeshift mission headquarters. As the rickety fan over the desk blew the papers off his desk for the second time, he sighed, then dutifully picked them up, anchoring them to the desktop this time with his SMG. He was continuing to finish filling out his reports in triplicate, wondering all the while why the Votan Collective bureaucracy still wanted paper copies of the reports he had already filed electronically, when Sargent Maas entered the room, standing at attention before him. Rima admired Sargent Mass for not only was she an impeccably neat soldier but also incredibly good at her job, with remarkable intelligence connections both in and out of the Votan Collective. Furthermore, she was a very attractive young Irathient woman in her tight fitting commando uniform that left little to the imagination, and it was difficult not to think of how sensual she was when she moved like a jungle panther.
Commander Kima quickly dismissed such thoughts as he always did, being a happily married man with three children, and again saw her as his second in command on this mission as he said, "At ease Sargent. What do you have for me?"
Sargent Maas relaxed into the at ease position, then reported, "I have information about this Volodja fellow that is traveling with Captain Bell. His full name is Volodja Uljanov, not long from Europe, where he is a renowned Soldier of Fortune. Even had a book written about him," Maas handed the Kima the book she had in her red clay hand as she continued, "Seems he joined the Bay Area Protectors shortly after arriving in E-Rep territory, which is where he presumably met Captain Bell. My sources say the two quickly became lovers, although they haven't been seen together as much as you might think, so I have no idea if they are friends with benefits or something more."
As Commander Kima skimmed over passages in Volodja's unofficial biography, Sargeant Mass stared at the huge muscles in his arms and chest that seemed to ripple every time he moved. As she admired his chiseled good looks with catlike emerald eyes, she thought, not for the first time, that she wouldn't mind if he would be her friend with benefits. Maas mentally shrugged off the thought and became all business again when the commander addressed her.
"Anything else to report?" He asked still looking at the book.
"I have reports that there may be a person in the area who knows this Volodja Uljanov well - one Marcel Lestrange. He's a fellow European and mercenary of sorts; not exactly a friend or a foe of Uljanov's, but more of a competitor, with no great love for him either from what I can gather. Evidently, Mr. Lestrange has been on the losing side when they clashed. I could get my contacts to find and reach out to him, if you like sir."
Commander Kima looked up and locked eyes with her, a glint of steel in his golden orbs, as he ordered, "See what Mr. Lestrange wants to come work for us as a consultant. Unless it is totally outrageous, agree to what he wants. I have a feeling that this Volodja Uljanov is not one to be underestimated, and all we can find out about him can only help us in our next encounter with him. I would prefer not to eliminate him, especially if Captain Bell favors him, for that might make her uncooperative in the next phase of our operation. However, if Mr. Uljanov proves himself to be an obstacle, we will have to, as the humans say, eliminate him with extreme prejudice. That is all, Sargent."
Sargent Maas curtly saluted, then turned on her heel and smartly left the room to go and tell her contacts to find Marcel Lestrange and make the Commander's offer to him. However, as she marched to fulfill the Commander's order, the back of her mind was busy with a daydream of Commander Kima and herself naked in a hot tub.
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Post by Volodja Uljanov on Feb 3, 2016 17:58:33 GMT
"For a lethal weapon, you are one damn good kisser...not to mention your smarts and your looks and if I keep praising you some more, although I am telling the truth, you will have to slap me to stop me, so we have to gain some professional attitude for now," said Volodja with a warm smile and with a hint of regret in his voice. "Antonio Garcia will be playing the role of the first victim then. His disappearance will be the trigger event, leading their gang into a mental chaos. Prints and noises are a warm up to get our audience into the right mood. We need them to be as apprehensive they can be. After Antonio is out from picture we can play it as in some pre war horror movie - "Scream", "Halloween", John Carpenter's remake of "The Thing from Another World", called "The Thing" or something like that, although I would prefer "Predator" because it seems to follow the similar scheme that applies to aforementioned horror flicks and even to stories about El Tunchi, which are older than films. Bloody universal pattern it seems to be and actually we can use it to our advantage. If it worked for genres of sci fi, folklore and horror, then maybe it works for us too. And setting of "Predator" feels right as well - it's about cloaked warrior who makes shrilling noises and stalks and kills members of unfortunate platoon in Southern American rain forests. Or were they Central American ones? Does it matter actually? I'll be lecturing a bit more and then you can cover my mouth with your hand to stop my blabbering if I forget to do it myself. Where was I? Oh yes, I remember now. That pattern is quite simple - somebody disappears/gets killed by a hand of some maniac or a creature, and then the rest of the cast keeps getting killed off one after another until remaining characters are going to lose their minds because of tension, suspicions and keeping their minds occupied with figuring out who will be the next victim and who can be behind all of that. And then someone with a squared jaw or messy haircut disposes world from the antagonist...until they make sequel....and another....and another...ad nauseam, like it happened with "Halloween" or Freddie Krueger movies or even with "Predator" itself. But I sure hope that all we need is Antonio's disappearance to scare the rest of them so El Tunchi survives and most of slavers are going to survive as well to spread the word about dangers of the jungle, at cost of having a nervous breakdown. First we will observe their little gang and decide how tough they are. And how they react to first signs and omens. I believe that if we are flexible and creative enough then our little project finds it's unique angle and we can successfully milk that plot."  |
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Post by Marcel Lestrange on Feb 4, 2016 7:21:45 GMT
Marcel Lestrange finished his paperwork and lit another cigarette. An ashtray was full of stumps and smelled like only an ashtray can do. The air in Marcel's room was thick from blue smoke. As a result of his meticulous information study he could restore way of that strange plane, flown by kidnappers of his beloved Lena Marr, from Defiance to a certain point on the map, but he needed more information now to continue his search now. Where he could get it?
Mr. Blowfield was obviously hoarding most valuable parts of the data he had, as a guarantee of their continuous business relationship so getting more out from that source was impossible until he fulfils another task Mr. Blowfield needs done, but as far Marcel could see, there wasn't any to come yet, so there he was - in the middle of nowhere. His ringing hailer broke the silence. "Probably Tommasino," Marcel thought, but this time he was mistaken, because unfamiliar female voice suggested a business meeting in Cuzco, Peru, and gave him a short description of the nature of his services he could offer them, as long as his prize is reasonable.
"Better than nothing," muttered Marcel after giving his approval to meet with mysterious party in need of his consultation. "And while I am flying, I can think about the terms of our contract."
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Small Liberata, dressed in white, walked on the streets of Cuzco. Votanis Collective didn't needed his services at moment, so he enjoyed his freedom but not for a long, because he was pulled into a dark alleyway by pair of strong human hands and pulled upwards by his coat lapels, so he found himself standing with face to face with a tall human male, while his short feet were dangling in air.
"Hello, little turd," the man said.
"S-s-señor Sentenza. What an honour. To me, not to you, of course...W-w-what can I do for you?""
"You can quit flattering me and give me EXACTLY the same information as you gave to the leader of Votan squad."
"M-m-may I ask how do you know about them anyway?"
"The jungle has eyes, little turd. But I want more than silent images. I need exact audio track of your conversation, so you have an unique opportunity to provide me with one. And do not try to lie. You know what happens to liars? Putting liars pants on fire is the smallest punishment which comes to my mind."
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"Hopefully he doesn't kill that little fellow, Mr. Wynd. I particularity won't care about his fate, but..."
"...we need him alive, Mr. Kyd, as you already implied. I believe that this little man has something to tell us."
"He sure seems to know a lot, so why not share his fortune with less fortunate ones?"
"Generosity is a nice feature indeed. All we have to do is wait a bit until Mr. Sentenza let's the poor fellow go."
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