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Post by Atticus Batman on Feb 19, 2016 14:19:01 GMT
I walked into the room as Lady placed our well-fed little ones into their cribs and looked at me as I entered the sitting area. After she smiled at me, I smiled back trying to look as if nothing was bugging me. She then turned her back and I couldn't help but admire her tight little backside as she walked over to one of my booze cabinets and pulled out a bottle of Irathiant brandy. Then I admired her beautiful face and form as she turned and walked up to me. As she handed it to me she kissed me, which I happily and lovingly returned. then she broke the kiss saying, "DrinK."
After I had several gulps of the energizing liquor, Lady narrowed her large pink eyes in concern and asked, "What's wrong?"
I should have known better and seen the question coming. After all as usual I couldn't hide much from Lady. Even when I tried to, she always seemed to be able to read my moods better than her protégée Belle could, my own sister Erika could, or even I could. As she placed one of her cute little slender hands on my broad chest and gently pushed me into my big chair, I relented and sat down. As I did I removed my mask for her and then pulled her onto the couch with me. she reclined against my lap and chest. Then as I wrapped my arms loosely around her she gazed into my eyes smiling lovingly but expectantly as she waited for my answer.
I looked away for a second, then I looked back into her pretty pink eyes. I sighed deeply then said quietly, "Just the joys of being who I am, what I am....bat shtako crazy. Just another of my flashbacks, hallucinations, or nightmares. I can't always say if they are my forgotten memories, Kabule's or Kakusi's, I just know that I have them and always will. The doctors call it Posttraumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. It's just one of the many disorders all those accursed psycho-babblers have diagnosed me with. It is also probably the main reason that I have never slept more than the couple hours a day that my body required, as I hate being so vulnerable to something that I can't control. That is before I met you. Our first night together was the first night that I could ever remember feeling comfortable and sleeping well. I always feel so loved and comforted with you by my side, that I now sleep through the night without worry since just your presence helps me feel at ease and snap out of those haunting moments instead of getting lost and trapped in the past, if I do happen to have them when you are around. And sorry if I stink, but I was doing some extreme training down in our holo-room right before I came back up to check on the twins. So I haven't had a shower yet today. Besides I so hate having them without you to keep me company." I then winked before smiling and giving her a gentle kiss.
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Post by Marcel Lestrange on Feb 19, 2016 14:22:56 GMT
"Should have guessed it," muttered Marcel when he heard that tracing Sergeant Maas's Quickblaster was not as successful as expected. "Now the army has two opportunities - to wait the time of that hailer call, which is sure to occur, because that old fashioned Fool Volodja will keep his word. If they are impatient, which they probably are, because they went after Mademoiselle Sandy and Volodja right away, then good luck with combing this place. People do open themselves up to the representatives of power that easily. It is a matter of mistrust...or was it distrust? That English is so damn complicated. Le Français is much easier to speak." But since the lingua franca (the universal language) in Western hemisphere was English for both species - humans and Votans - Marcel made himself to speak and even think mostly in English because he didn't want to lose the touch. In addition to practical English lessons, Marcel tried something else - instead of being himself - the successful and determined Marcel Lestrange, he tried to walk in the shoes of that softy Volodja for awhile. If he was Volodja then where would he go, what would he do? Unfortunately Marcel lacked something to feel himself completely free in that footwear of Volodja's. Maybe it was lack of empathy? That is why he tried to think in general categories of human needs instead. Basic needs like satisfying hunger or need for rest or having a shelter above head. Simple pleasures, you know. Hunger seemed to be reasonable to begin with. Volodja and Sandy were humans. Humans tend to get hungry and thirsty when they are on the move. Ergo, Volodja and Sandy must be hungry. That is where Marcel begins his search - by visiting restaurants and diners. Preferably classy ones, because Marcel knew that even when Volodja was able to starve if needed or feed on only bread and water if necessary, he also liked quality cuisine and Cuzco seemed to offer a chance to fulfil his urge to eat something good. Especially when his wallet was full. And after their successful street performance and looting the street gang, it had to be full, so all Marcel had to do was to begin questioning personnel of eating places. Wait a minute! Fancy eating places to narrow his search. Only problem seemed to be that Cusco had too many of them. Even the area where Sandy Bell and Volodja Uljanow were last seen, had it's fair share of them. But that clue was better than nothing, so Marcel begun a new task as a restaurant critic who's only criterion on giving Michelin stars was simple as it could be - having Sandy Bell and Volodja Uljanov as their customers.  |
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Post by Sandy Bell on Feb 19, 2016 15:27:11 GMT
As Sandy Bell lay on the green grass with her blond head in Volodja's lap, staring into the blue sky with eyes equally blue, she was content. Her stomach was full, she was comfortable, she was spending quality time with the one she loved - what was not to be content about?
"If only we weren't fugitives from the Votan Collective, with a slew of fucking bounty hunters after us, everything would be perfect," Thought Sandy to herself, but she said instead with a grin as she looked up into Volodja's handsome face, "Volodja, if only we had grapes! We could take turns feeding them to each other - but they aren't very tropical!"
Sandy laughed gaily, then began a series of lighthearted witticisms and small talk, about everything and anything that didn't have to do with their current situation. Volodja, for his part, shared stories of his past that he hadn't shared with anyone else and which he hadn't even thought about in years, and which Sandy, in return, did as well. Sandy told of her first awkward date at fourteen, with her father acting as chauffeur and chaperon, sitting in the back row of the movie theater as she sat in the front with her date. She told of her first competitive race in high school, and the pleasure of having the wind in her face as she ran and the thrill of her first victory when she crossed the finish line first. She told of the adrenaline surge of her first near death encounter when a Great White Shark took a huge bite out of her surfing board but thankfully not her when she was surfing off the coast of Southern California - she told him many things, and listened in turn, until the day caught up with her and she became so drowsy that her eyes fluttered shut, no matter how hard she tried to keep them from doing so. Soon, all Volodja could hear was the not-so-gentle snoring of his beloved.
However at the same time, Lena Marr, as she stood over the dead body of the huge ape with a red tie, had the scenery dissolve around her, as it changed into a dark maze. Suddenly from around a corner, a gigantic huge yellow ball came right at her, so she began running away from it as fast as her chalk white legs would let her. As she looked over her shoulder, she saw a huge maw with sharp teeth and two large angry looking eyes open in the front of the rolling sphere.
"Aw, fuck maaaaan," muttered Lena, ducking into a side corridor just as it rolled by, thinking to herself, "This is going to get old quick!"
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Post by Wolfram von Eschen on Feb 19, 2016 20:10:54 GMT
"Another day in the grind has begun," said Wolfram after he woke up. "Luckily I don't have to lead the troops any more after return of "Vigilant". That means some rest in mental asylum for me. Not as a patient But as Herr Doktor von Eschen."
"Morning, you wonderful old goat! How's the sleep?" asked Chloe MacGyver and stretched herself like a cat. She spent the night at his place where they played doctor among other things after their long shift in the War Room ended. Chloe had to admit that Wolfram was one tough old bastard, because he lasted not only long days at work, but long hours in the bed they shared, as well.
She actually should expect that, because as long as she knew then Wolfram survived Pale Wars and years of constant drunkenness in solitude after that. Then he joined with the team and managed to manoeuvre himself through all difficulties of getting used with more open lifestyle and became a distinguished member of Paradise Protectors. And now he survived a night long wrestling marathon with her. Another achievement to be proud of!
Several minutes later - teeth brushing, getting dressed and so on - they headed to canteen to have a breakfast and lot of coffee. After few words with Ralph, Wolfram realised that something was bothering otherwise enthusiastic and temperament chef.
"Ralph, Mein Freund" he begun, leading their conversation into the right direction with some carefully placed questions. "How did you slept? How you like the weather today? And do you want to talk about that something that seem to be chewing you from inside?"
________
Thousands of miles away in the city of Lima, another elderly gentlemen was asking questions as well. He wasn't as charming as Wolfram von Eschen and his job was not dealing only with peoples minds, but also with the flesh. That elderly gent was a slave trader and sex merchant who talked with young Ivu about the auction while his assistant - his younger look a like Zack Normal - observed his actions and made notes as assistant should do if he wants to reach somewhere in his life.
"Well. Young Ivu sounded a bit...upset on the phone," concluded Montero. "He didn't confirmed or contradicted any of my assumptions, I made on the phone about the auction. Looks like that he isn't sure what to tell me. Only thing he told is that they are making preparations. That is strange. By the last information I received, everything was supposed to be ready. And Commander Kima didn't mentioned Sandy Bell either. That makes me consider one thing...Should we send someone to look if young Ivu is all right? Maybe we should. Arrange that, kid. And then mix me another drink."
"Right away, Sir. Should I put more ice?"
"Yes. And make sure that anyone who causes trouble will be put ON ice."
"An excellent suggestion, Sir. We must keep things cool."
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Post by Lady Christianna on Feb 19, 2016 21:30:02 GMT
As Lady Christianna lay naked entwined on the bed in the arms of her husband and lover, Atticus Batman, Lady worried. Atticus had had these battles with his past in his subconscious before, but never so in such an acute way. Lady wondered if Kabule, his past evil personality was fighting for control of their body, or that maybe the Grid, Kakousi, normally benevolent, was becoming, well, more grid-like. When she was ark hunting, Grid were a very real danger on the San Francisco frontier, and normally had a take-no-prisoners attitude in battle. Maybe Kakuski was showing his true colors at last.
Lady missed having MOM, her EGO psyche, to talk to, but with her transformation into who-knew-what, Lady couldn't find a trace of MOM in her head. Similarly, MOM was her link to Atticus' EGO psyche Dinara, so that avenue to intelligence about Atticus' condition was also closed to Lady. Furthermore, Lady knew her own limitations: She had trouble understanding her own mixed up teen age mind let alone trying to figure out her poor hubby's, and she knew that for a fact!
Lady waited until it looked that Atticus was asleep, his breathing regular and untroubled, before quietly leaving their bed to go the outer living room of their bunker home, pausing only to peer into the twins' bedroom, smiling at seeing them also sleeping peacefully. Tiptoeing to make as little noise as possible, she went to their personal computer, inquiring as to the present location of Dr. Wolfram Von Eschen. Lady knew Wolfram had degrees in psychology and years of experience treating those who were haunted by their past. Lady knew Atticus hated so-call psycho-babblers, but that he tolerated - and maybe even liked - Wolfram! Those pieces of knowledge though were not as important as the last fact she knew about Wolfram: He was OLD! Not just old, but incredibly OLD!
Wolfram Von Eschen was downright ancient to her young seventeen year old mind, and unlike many of her generation, Lady didn't equate old age with senility but with wisdom. To Lady, it was simply an equation of math. Since Wolfram was the oldest at Fortress K'shaa, he must therefore be the wisest. So Wolfram was the best one to help her help Atticus, and the computer said his present location was in the base canteen. With that information, she almost blurred out of the bunker, but at the last moment she realized that she was stark naked, so she shook her white tresses at her almost folly as she tiptoed back to her dressing room, changing into her white 7th Legion tunic and matching culottes before quietly leaving the bunker, locking the door behind her.
"Don't want to give the old coot a heart attack," Thought Lady with her Mona Lisa smile firmly in place, "Although I'm kind of surprised he hasn't had one already, if half the things I hear about him and Chloe are true!"
As Lady entered the canteen of Fortress Kshaa, she saw Wolfram and Ralph the Cook sitting conspiratorially at a table far from the others, their heads close to each other as if they were sharing secrets. However, as she entered and drew close, both men stopped what they were discussing, almost in mid-sentence. She didn't think twice about it, for her young mind had one and only one thought in it at the moment.
"Wolfram," Lady exclaimed in a low little girl tone with a pretty pout on her chalk white face and nothing but concern in her wide pink eyes, saying as a prelude to her explanation of her concerns, "Something's wrong with the Batman!"
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Post by Taffer on Feb 19, 2016 22:04:54 GMT
When Taffer opened the door at the end of the hallway, he saw both of them: a tall red-haired human and a female indogene, both dressed in lab coats. "No need to hack anything to enter? That's a bummer," Taffer said smiling to two persons, "I see you formed your own little club and a good one I must say. Vo, meet Alex-Phil Ishton or API, as he sometimes refers himself to, an outstanding EGO programmer and a frequent Network lurker." "Hey, what's wrong in being on the Net? That's how you get clients nowadays!" Alex replied in the tone which suggested that his activity on the Network was contained something more than just attracting customers. On the contrary, Vo's attention was mostly caught with Joleen — a doctor who gave treatment to Belle during their first visit to Lima. He nodded politely to Alex, but then turned to Joleen and said, "I'm afraid I was so much concerned with Belle's conditions that day that I did not thank you for the job you did which you obviously deserve. So thank you for all you have done for her… for us." "It's my job and I glad to hear the treatment worked good for her," Joleen replied and exchanged glances with Taffer, the meaning of which only they two could understand. Joleen, formerly known as Dr. Mrvaa, was the exact doctor who helped Belle with her treatment back then in New Vegas, on their first big campaign, and the episode Vo was talking about was actually the second time the Indogene doctor treated Belle's severe health damage. After the first time the doctor was chased by a killer, so she had to change her name, appearance, voice and move to other continent to seek for safety. It seemed that Taffer was the only one who found out who she really was and she thought that was just enough if not too many. Nevertheless, she treated Belle the second time and was ready to help her friends with the task they were about to ask her to do. "Back to the point then," Taffer said in a somewhat nervous tone that was rarely heard from him. "Alex, I need you to perform a jailbreak operation on my EGO. I particular, I need you to make her able to perform a full self-rebuild and recalibration. And I need this update to be performed quickly." "A rebuild?" Alex asked with concern, "Those operations are locked for a reason. They supposed to be held in a controlled environment with external monitoring and control of the unit. Starting those processes autonomously may result in a severe damage to your health and the unit and even death. Besides, I don't have that part of the code. It's not distributed between VBI laboratories and even if I manage to capture an image of that part from her EGO unit, It will take some time for me to decompile it." "I can assure you I understand the risks," Taffer replied, "And I've brought something, or someone, to make this job easier. My friend has this function already working and tested, and my EGO is almost exact copy of his one, as it was created with all the values locked to those which were found during the recalibration process on his one. So basically what you have to do is to copy that particular part of the firmware from his EGO into mine." "That will be much easier indeed," Alex's voice sounded somewhat relieved, "But wait, did you say your EGO was copied off your friend's one? I thought yours was the first one of this type?" "Am I going to trust the re-flashing of system parts of my EGO to someone who forgot about zero-based numbering?" Taffer asked with a smile, "It would be most unfortunate if the writing addresses would be mixed up during the process." "Well, you know, a zero-numbered EGO unit of a version five is a kind of a legend here, I didn't know it exists at all. I've heard stories that…" "… And their existence and abilities better stay this way. If someone wants to believe in myths, let them. What I want to know is if it's possible to perform what I have just asked." The copying operation was indeed fast as Shirra, Vo's EGO psyche, provided Alex with all the necessary information that needed to be copied to Em Dash. After it was done and Em Dash confirmed that her host now has the control over all unlocked system functions, Vo and Taffer left the building under cloak the same way as they entered and headed to the nearest relay station for Taffer to receive the message from Montero if it was left for him and then to call the number he was provided with to contact the auction host. |
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Post by Kaj Oenfer on Feb 20, 2016 3:01:22 GMT
"This stop should be even shorter that the last one. Chase, Kaj and Attila — play a decoy. Take the Garilu rover. Move around. Ask questions. Make people think you're our main recon group. Lu, Atika and Archer — same as before, keep tabs on ship's controls, radar and weapons. Be ready to provide support or evacuation. Vo, ready your Cloak and come with me. We'll go on foot."
As the rover detached from the ship, two cloaked people snuck away from it and headed east from the stadium. Kaj in the pilot seat of the Garilu took the rover westward so all eyes would follow it and not notice the cloaked figures occasionally shimmer as they headed east. After getting a little ways away from the stadium, Kaj parked the Garilu and he and Chase departed it to ask questions, leaving Attila inside just in case they needed a quick getaway or an even quicker pick up.
When Kaj realized Chase's plan to act as an employer looking for those that he owes money to, Kaj decided to go with that idea. So he made sure he kept Chase and the Garilu insight so Kaj would be seen as the soldier trained tough guy that he is. At the same time Kaj also questioned a few people. Some time later, he asked a street beggar.
The beggar held out a cup so Kaj dropped 1 scrip note in it and the beggar spoke. "I am not stupid. Not smart to pry much, but will give you a warning for that note you gave me. The Votanis Collective not only has officers looking for those same human woman that you and your human colleague over there are looking for, but they have also put a bounty out for the woman. So they have bounty hunters, the Beggar's Union and several street gangs looking for the woman.
for another scrip note I may consider it, but I must tell the Beggar's union soon that more are looking for her or risk trouble."
Kaj gave the beggar 5 more scrip notes and said calmly, "Tell me what you know now."
The beggar glanced around then said quietly, "They went towards Cuzco some time ago."
Kaj said still calmly, "They?"
The beggar said, "Yes she had a companion. Very close from what we can tell."
Kaj sighed and glanced around then said calmly, "Describe her companion." When the beggar did so Kaj definitely knew that he had solved the mystery of the disappearance of Volodja Uljanov. He wasn't missing. He had found out about Sandy's location before the others and came to find her, himself.
Kaj tossed another scrip note into the beggar's cup then walked over to Chase. He said quietly, "I think we better go back to the rover when you are done here." Chase nodded and finished talking to the person that he was currently talking with. Then the two returned to the Garilu.
Once securely inside Kaj said, "From what I have found out, it sounds like Volodja came to Lima to find Sandy before we even knew where to look. It also sounds like after he found her, they headed towards Cuzco. So we go back to the Riot and tell the others in person, as it is possible that our Rover's communication frequency is already being monitored. From there we can have Lu send an EGO message to her brother to fill him in on our only lead to both Sandy and Volodja. We should also have Atika and Lu initiate an encrypted communications frequency rotation for both vehicles that is synced together. So we can stay in contact even when both frequencies are automatically rotated."
Attila said he would do whatever they decided. So After Kaj heard what Chase had to say, Kaj started the Garilu back up and they headed back towards the stadium, hoping that nothing happened to the Riot or the others while they were on recon.
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Post by Wolfram von Eschen on Feb 20, 2016 10:10:30 GMT
Wolfram von Eschen was caught on the act, but despite of his rigidity, he managed to redirect his cart to different set of tracks. When Ralph moved back to his position behind the counter Wolfram turned his grey eyes towards Lady Christianna and said to her: "Guten Morgen, Mein Kind. I mean, good morning mu child. Can you kindly describe what makes you worry about him? I could use every kind of information about Herr Batman to figure out what might be wrong. Is it his behaviour? Or sudden mood changes? Don't hesitate to tell, child. I can assure that it stays between us, because just like priests, all Doctors must keep their lips sealed about people who seek their help. Nice and slow, my child. Take your time and we can begin once you are ready. Just let me take my notebook, my pen and some ink." The last word was a signal for Ralph who poured Wolfram a glassful on liqueur from the Wolfram's own bottle, which actually had the word "Tinte" ( which means "ink" in German) written on the etiquette to avoid the situation where someone accidentally uses Wolfram's bottle for his/her own good as it happened with Volodja's quality brandy once. After that accident Wolfram (who actually was responsible of destroying Volodja's brandy supply together with his side kick Broderick Smythe) decided to take precautions to avoid the same thing happening to him. Thus the special bottle with special liquid was marked with the special label. Chloe MacGyver covered her ears demonstratively with two pale hands, closed her beautiful green eyes and started to whistle by herself to show that she was as discreet as Wolfram and doesn't interfere their confidential conversation. Every cell of her voluptuous body was telling: "I won't see anything confidential. I can't hear anything confidential. And thus I can't tell anything confidential to others."  |
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Post by Lady Christianna on Feb 20, 2016 10:43:44 GMT
As Ralph the cook moved back to his position behind the counter, an enigmatic smile crossed Lady Christianna's face and with an exaggerated wink of one pink eye she said, "Don't forget. Same time. Same place. Same cargo."
"No time to drink, no time to write, must go! Bye Chloe," Lady downed the glass of Wolfram's brandy in one gulp, then the smile disappeared as Lady turned to Wolfram, grabbing his wrinkled hand with her small young one, tugging him towards the door of the canteen, saying, "Depressed. Tired. Mopey. Disinterested in work." As she dragged him through the canteen's door she stopped, turning on a dime and looking up at the tall man with intense pink eyes, putting a small forefinger to the corner of her thin lips as she whispered, "Lots of bad dreams about past. Don't think it's the twins. Get up in the night to feed them before they get cranky. Still interested in sex. Atticus, not twins. They're only babies, silly. Very energetic then. Atticus, not the twins. Think that's the problem? Too much sex? Hope not! He says PTSD. Don't know if that all though. Atticus shares his head with two others."
Then Lady linked his arm with hers, hurrying Wolfram to the family bunker talking about Atticus and his history as she knew it all the way. Once there, she entered the security code, ushering Wolfram into the living area, then yelled, "Honey, I'm home! Look who I ran into. Wolfram Von Eschen! Purely by chance. No ulterior motive. Have guest, get proper and say hi. I'll put on some Irathient tea!"
Lady pointed to a chair and whispered to Wolfram, "Get comfortable. Talk to him. Help him. Talk man to man. Remember, mums the word," Lady giggled like a school girl before rushing out to brew the tea, saying before she left, 'That's funny - mums the word and I'm a mother."
Lady was still giggling as she left her room, clearly giddy about something other than her own joke, but the look in her pink eyes belied her good humor and showed to the world the obvious concern she had over Atticus.
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Post by Wolfram von Eschen on Feb 20, 2016 11:21:24 GMT
"Her Batman. Everything is exactly how Lady Christianna described. I accidentally met her and practically insisted to join her," said Wolfram von Eschen, leaning comfortably onto chair and stretching his long legs. "My fault, not hers's. Curiosity, you know. Kills the cat. By the way. Long time no see, Herr Batman. How was the travel? Good...Good.And how is our energy levels have been lately? All that travelling usually wears me off for sure, but in my age it is quite common trouble. People of my age used to cruise around the world as long as they were part of the First world and could afford it. And by cruising I mean cruising - life of leisure where you have not much to do. except enjoying the trip and letting the crew to take care of you instead of being caretaker. Just like in "Love Boat" which you probably haven't watched. Me either. At least not much."
Wolfram sighed and added: "But why the hell I am the one who is doing all the talking? I should let you speak instead and share your impressions and experiences. After all - I just sat here, playing the king of the hill while you were busy with saving the world. So...How are you been lately?"
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Post by Atticus Batman on Feb 20, 2016 13:24:46 GMT
I was awake and had just finished using the bathroom and washing my hands before I had returned to the bedroom where I started putting on my clothes and was considering going to the War room to finally work for a few hours, as I felt better after my workout in the holo-room, my very enjoyable lovemaking session with Lady and then the following nap with her, despite her being gone when I awoke. Something I was really hoping she would not start making a habit of doing, as I really loved falling asleep and waking up with her snuggled into me. As I had finished putting on my jumpsuit, I heard Lady yelling, "Honey, I'm home! Look who I ran into. Wolfram Von Eschen! Purely by chance. No ulterior motive. Have guest, get proper and say hi. I'll put on some Irathient tea!"
So I put on my mask, armor and boots, and equipped the rest of my usual base gear. Then I went downstairs to see them. As I walked into our main sitting area, I was greeted by Doctor Wolfram Von Eschen.
"Her Batman. Everything is exactly how Lady Christianna described. I accidentally met her and practically insisted to join her," said Wolfram von Eschen, leaning comfortably onto chair and stretching his long legs. "My fault, not hers. Curiosity, you know. Kills the cat. By the way. Long time no see, Herr Batman. How was the travel? Good...Good. And how is our energy levels have been lately? All that travelling usually wears me off for sure, but in my age it is quite common trouble. People of my age used to cruise around the world as long as they were part of the First world and could afford it. And by cruising I mean cruising - life of leisure where you have not much to do. except enjoying the trip and letting the crew to take care of you instead of being caretaker. Just like in "Love Boat" which you probably haven't watched. Me either. At least not much."
I looked at Wolfram and then glanced to our open kitchen where Lady was indeed preparing some tea. So Wolfram sighed and added: "But why the hell I am the one who is doing all the talking? I should let you speak instead and share your impressions and experiences. After all - I just sat here, playing the king of the hill while you were busy with saving the world. So...How are you been lately?"
I sat back in my big chair and said, "Eseneziri (Irathiant: n. a greeting, hello. lit. without weapons or concealed intentions) Herr Von Eschen. It's simple. You are talking because you like hearing yourself AND you are trying to mentally disarm me so I will open myself up and spill my guts, like you do with your patients which I am not one of. However if you are here, it is because Lady is worried enough about me that she sought help. I suppose I can't fault her for loving me that much. After all I feel the same about her and have done the same for her because of it and will continue to do so for as long as I live. So I will at least humor you and answer some of your questions and perhaps address some of her concerns.
The travel there was alright, given the circumstances. The travel back was much better since I now had Lady to keep me company. My energy has been low given the events of late, as well as spending the last month worrying about my depressed wife and hoping she wouldn't end up in prison or worse and worrying about Erika, Belle, Sandy, Lena, and Volodja, as they are all still missing. All of which whom went missing under my Command. So is it really wrong that I needed a day off after all of that? I don't think so and given how you just mentioned taking a relaxing cruise of leisure. I would say that you don't see anything wrong with it either.
Although I am betting that you are really here because of my flashbacks. They have plagued me for as long as I remember so I have grown used to them. Although the migraines I have gotten after the last couple of flashbacks are new. I have never been prone to those before. However my EGO did her thing and my migraine is now gone. So that doesn't matter. I will be back to work soon and I will see check in with you after I have a flashback, if that will make both you and my wonderful wife happy.
Actually after my workout this morning and that nap that Lady insisted I take this afternoon after she relaxed me in her own very special and loving way, I am currently feeling much better. So I figured that her and I could take the twins into Fortress K'shaa to visit with everybody and then perhaps check into the War Room to see if there is anything that needs my current attention. Or if Lady is ready to go see Pyotr and Haele about her EGO then we can do that instead.
However that must all wait until Lady joins us and the three of us have some tea. I don't know if you have ever had any kind of Irathiant teas, but you are in for a treat, as Lady makes some of the best that I have ever had. However I am afraid that we will have to do without our alcohol for the time being. After all Lady insists that tea time is strictly for tea and perhaps a snack. No alcohol allowed during that time apparently. Now that I told what you wanted to know, perhaps you could tell me how my niece and her children are doing. As far as I know Kara still doesn't know that I am her long lost uncle as it was Erika's wish that she tell her, but does she know of her mother's disappearance? If not do we find a way to tell her or let her keep thinking that Erika is still visiting Cael?"
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Post by Wolfram von Eschen on Feb 20, 2016 13:54:11 GMT
"Of course I like to hear myself, because I like to be in intelligent company, Herr Batman," replied Wolfram merrily, adding with slightly serious manner: "After all - during a long time I had only one person to talk with or listen to. And it was me. Or myself. Or I. But that is not important right now. We can begin with the ther...further conversation of ours about your personal matters any time you feel ready for it. At moment I don't have much to do anyway. My patients are fine....although I would be really delicate with that soap opera like announcement: "I am your long lost uncle, you never knew about." Remember what similar thing did to Luke? I seriously doubt that the trope, I just created, becomes a subject of various references, because nobody makes any good spoofs these days. O tempora, o mores!
Speaking about the importance of timing, Herr Batman...including the right moment of telling Kara that Erika is missing...If YOU decide to reveal your family ties with Kara, then you should inform her about Erika right away - good news versus bad news. They should balance each other, although I would wait with that matter until we hear about Erika's whereabouts. Then you could drop in one more news - the announcement that we are going after her. And now I would like to have some of that tea, which was promised to me when I missed my morning drink."
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Post by Volodja Uljanov on Feb 20, 2016 17:56:00 GMT
To give something in return for Sandy's wonderful stories Volodja told how he discovered wonderful world of books when he was about four years old and how he ever since tried too preserve cultural treasures of the world, believing that one day that knowledge might become useful and appreciated again. He told about his travels and things he had seen, like a farm in city limits of Andorra la Vella, the capital of Andorra which was not far from banks and boutiques and fancy coffee houses, and other things until Sandy fell asleep. Volodja stayed awake and pondered about the lost world when he watched his sleeping beauty. "Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus," muttered Volodja, holding head of still sleeping Sandy on his lap and stroking her blonde hair. "The rose of old remains only in its name, we possess naked names. The beauty of the past disappeared in Pale Wars, we hold only the mere name of the former world. But that emptiness also means that we can fill it with the new content in a way we want to." "We are in the philosophical mood today," said someone mockingly and Marcel Lestrange appeared by their side. "For a useless philosopher you know for sure, how to hide yourself. It took me nice amount of time and scrip to track you down. Fortunately I found that restaurant where you obtained this nice picnic basket." Marcel took a piece of Pie de Limon (Peruvian version of a lemon pie where instead of lemons, small Peruvian, very acid limes are used. On top of a thin pastry a lime custard or pudding is put, covered with a thick layer of meringue and baked) and started to munch, declaring: "Yummy! This IS a TASTY pie. You have a great taste, Volodja. You are not surprised to see me?" "Why should I be?" whispered Volodja and put his forefinger to his lips. "Sandy is asleep, so speak quietly. I remember that you wrote something about survival of fittest, so you had to observe us to see results of your trick." "You are almost correct, Volodja," whispered Marcel back to him. "But things have changed since I arranged you and Mademoiselle Sandy together to have that tropical trip. Meanwhile I have found some work. My employer wants her into his custody. And maybe you as well, although you are expandable in his eyes, so it doesn't matter if you live or die, Volodja." Marcel wanted to add something more but something he saw made him change the subject: "Merde! We have uninvited guests at the picnic! And they are worse picnic ruiners than ants. Local beggars must have discovered you as well and sent some cutthroats to collect bounty for Mademoiselle Sandy to themselves. Nobody steals my prize, so I offer you temporary alliance, because with me you have at least a chance to survive, but with them definitely not. They want only Sandy. You are not included." "In return for my cooperation I want you to promise me something, Marcel," said Volodja calmly. "Promise to take Sandy into safety if I don't make it. We have only pistols to defend ourselves against that mob. It's worse than assault on Precinct 13. At least those people had better weapons and walls. Those cutthroats won't touch Sandy if everything you said happens to be true, so I will hold them back from that spot over there to avoid her getting hurt even by accident. After all - you just told me that it doesn't matter if I live or die." And Volodja kissed Sandy on her forehead before whispering "I love you." "I would do it anyway. Safest place for her is in custody, so if you don't make it it will be done," replied Marcel with a devilish grin. "Any last words for future generations?" "Nope. Too many of them to handle with our tiny arsenal and human resources with great efficiency, but since it's a matter of life or death, I prefer to fight for the life." "Their death is our life," said Marcel. "That is my philosophical thought for today. No more useless philosophical gibberish from me. So shut up, wake Sandy up and let the battle begin." said Marcel and pulled out his firearm. "And do not dare to hesitate to shoot Volodja. They want you dead. You want to live. Thus you have to kill them as much as possible." "A bit clumsy syllogism, Marcel. Let me add that using a syllogism - even if it's a relatively rough one - means that you just broke your promise about no more philosophy today. So I doubt that you are able to keep the one, I asked you to keep. That means that I must survive despite of our lousy chances against that mob, Marcel. Even if I do it just to get on your nerves." "Shut up already. You are giving me a headache. And prepare to fight." |
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Post by Sandy Bell on Feb 21, 2016 3:25:30 GMT
Sandy Bell continued to gently snore, no matter what Volodja did to try to wake her. Unbeknownst to Volodja, Marcel was not the only one to find the Cuzco restaurant where he had bought the picnic meal. In fact, Sargent Maas and her commando partner saw Volodja enter the restaurant, and using the equipment used to mask them from EGOs requisitioned for this mission, sneaked in the back door to the kitchen without being detected. The masking equipment only works for short spurts of time, so after paying off the cook, Maas quickly broke open one of her tranquilizer darts, spreading it's contents over the Pie de Limon ordered by Volodja, trusting the tart flavor of the pie to disguise any residual taste the sedative might have. She and her partner then followed the loving couple to the park, just out of range of their EGOs and contacted Commander Kima by the commando's encrypted hailer, which was changed from the frequency Maas' hailer was on when it was captured.
Maas and her commando partner were skilled in the art of camouflage and wore camouflaged fatigues, but knew Volodja was a soldier too, and from personal experience, Maas knew a darn good one, so she and her compatriot stayed a safe distance away from the picnic site, just out of EGO range. That was until Sandy fell asleep after gorging on half the pie, and Marcel arrived and ate a piece, and then an armed group of thugs arrived as well.
Seeing the situation through her binoculars, Maas signaled her partner to activate his EGO masking device, then whispered in his ear her plan, "I didn't see Mr. Uljanov eat any pie, but Mr. Lestrange did. Still, it took time to affect Ms. Bell, and she ate a lot more than he did. While those two fight the local criminals, lets sneak in and grab Ms. Bell and take her to the safe rendezvous point. Commander Kima and the rest of the squad is already on the way with the Gargoyle and can meet us there."
With that said, Sargent Maas and her partner began the slow and careful crawl through the underbrush towards the still and snoring form of Sandy Bell, their tranquilizer rifles ready to fire and put to bed any resistance they might come across.
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Post by Volodja Uljanov on Feb 21, 2016 7:16:11 GMT
"Looks like that they have an advantage," said Volodja, looking approaching cutthroats with worried eyes. "Do I sound too boring, Marcel? You are yawning again." "In fact you do, but that is not the reason, you imbecile! I feel sleepy since I ate that pie. Moira!" "Working on it. Gotcha! Found traces of antihistamines in your digestive system. Someone spiced up that pie, you just ate, with sedatives."Marcel was kind enough to share that information with Volodja, making him frown because their garrison was suddenly reduced to one and a half fighters - Sandy was totally knocked down by chemical cosh and Marcel had to fight not only the outer enemy, but conduct another battle inside his organism and it wasn't sure which one was harder - battle with cutthroats or battle with drugs. Only Volodja wasn't drugged, his mind was clear and that made him act only logical way possible...Not surrender, but retreat. If there is not any cavalry to help surrounded fortress, then you either fight to the last man or surrender. But if you are surrounded by enemies in relatively open area, you can leave the battleground, gather your forces and prepare for another fight in better conditions, because they almost withstood to the last man and a half and that amount was clearly not enough to fight off local thugs. Luckily Sandy and Volodja had their luncheon in open area, not in some restaurant with no way out, so Volodja took Sandy's limp body to his arms, pressed against his broad chest and listened her gentle snoring because even in deep sleep Sandy leaned her head against his shoulder and slid her hands around his neck, and dived into bushes. Marcel yawned once more and went after them, muttering: "That imbecile even bothered to clean up the place after him. Incroyable!" Because Volodja gathered remains of their feast and stuck them into a recycle bin (they were in park no matter how bewildered it seemed to be) before leaving. Volodja made his way through the bushes with great expertise, skilfully avoiding getting hit by twigs and branches. His hands were occupied and there was no way to block hits with them, so he had to be flexible and instead of pushing himself through the forest with a raw power as a bulldozer would do, he waltzed around three trunks and walked into bushes backwards so twigs swung to their places after he passed through and hit thin air instead of him. Or at least they hit Marcel instead, keeping him alert and thus awake. Unfortunately Marcel did not bothered to cover their tracks, so they had to hurry away from that place to keep the distance from stalkers. When two attacking parties (Sandy and Volodja weren't even aware of Votanis Collective one but even if they could knew about them, Volodja would just become more convinced about the necessity of retreating) run to the middle of the picnic area after a long sneak and hide approach - because nobody hadn't a death wish which was needed for a direct attack so cutthroats maintained low profil and members of Votanis Collective crawled closer because they didn't wanted to give themselves away until proper time - from two separate sides to face each other instead Sandy and Volodja, that loving couple plus sleepy Marcel Lestrange were relatively far from the spot which almost became the place for another famous last fight. When fugitives got secured by the maze of narrow streets of Cuzco, they stopped to catch a breath. That was also the moment when Marcel gave up his war with drugs and passed out - sudden break after a stressful period tends to allowing any physical or mental troubles catch up with you and get you off guard. Marcel began his not that gentle snoring concert which muffled Sandy's snores by far, because Marcel's voice sounded like a full orchestra, including bagpipes, contrabass and drums. Volodja looked at him with a slight regret and said: "Since you are one with the bad guys from our point of you, I have to...let you sleep right behind these garbage bins. Nobody bothers you here, because they think that someone had too much pisco." Volodja inspected the area, found remains of worn poncho in one of the bins, covered sleeping Marcel with them and placed several soft trash bags around him as well. Results of his work looked exactly as some hobo had passed out there. As a final touch Volodja added an empty pisco bottle to his installation after pouring last drops of it's contents on Marcel. Perfect! Nobody bothers a sleeping hobo because they assume that he hasn't anything valuable with him. The composition also reminded him autochrome photographs - first practical medium for colour photography - of Albert Kahn and his major photographic project dedicated to preserve the human culture on Earth. Monsieur Kahn was a French banker and philanthropist, known for initiating "Les Archives de la Planète" (The Archives of the Planet), a vast photographic project. Spanning 22 years (from 1909 to 1931 until the Great Depression ruined Kahn's banking business and ended the project), it resulted in a collection of 72 000 colour photographs and 183 000 meters of film which formed a unique historical record of 50 countries.  Sending a minute of silence to honour that man and his wonderful world (and admiring his own work with Marcel), Volodja lifted Sandy up from his chamanto again, because while Volodja made some artwork she was sleeping on it and managed to pick up his chamanto as well. After having Sandy comfortably on his strong arms, Volodja began to move and soon they both were swallowed by the city of Cuzco. They probably bought some time for themselves but the chase was still damn far from being over. |
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