DRACHMA - KREMLIN: Spade, Nyx, Viktor, Cora, Sablya

[Guest]

Arrows pierced the air, and consequently, their targets, without fail. Amestrian militants fell to the ground - some dead, some still dying, and other merely wounded. The smell of so much spilled blood was invigorating, it sent adrenaline through Daemon's entire body. Bullets went past him, in the direction of Nyx...but he knew she could take care of herself, for now. He had other things to think about. He was to find the leaders of Amestris and take them out...and he would do just that, with nothing currently preventing him from doing so, other than the fact that he would have to find them first...

Suddenly, he felt something. His animal instincts flared, and his muscles tensed. Something was coming for him. No, someONE...and surely enough, someone appeared near the tall chimera. This individual's smell was different from that of the other militants, not yet tainted by the scent of blood, arrows, and the other things that had been used to take them down. In addition, there was something that felt more dangerous about this man than the others, who seemed to have been just pawns of Amestris. There was the faint clatter of a firearm being raised at its target. Fangs bared, Daemon stepped aside, narrowly avoiding the bullet.

"Serve this!"

A voice. A man's voice. Daemon growled, the sound of the bullet flying past him reverberating in his mind. So...there was someone so eager to kill him that they would shoot at him from up close rather than from afar. So be it...but this particular chimera would not be brought down so quickly. Turning his head toward the source of the voice, he growled. The sound reminded him of the things he had been forced to do, the consequence for subordination being death, and the wounds he had suffered as a result. Those scientists...

"Liars," He muttered, "Filthy, lying bastards..." With another growl, he grabbed a dagger from his belt. Before spending time on fighting this man, he would have to make sure of something...the man's identity. Concentrating his every movement on learning the position of the man, Daemon listened for a footstep, some manner of speech, anything. The bullet...it had been so close to striking him. He was losing his touch. It was this unfamiliar environment and the chaotic sounds of fighting that was causing it. The hairs on his body stood on end. He crouched, and reaching behind him with his free hand, pulled the arm of a dead soldier to his face, licking the blood off of it. It was still warm...the individual to whom this limb belonged had died only recently.

"Tell me...who are you?" It was not the most convenient place or situation for the question, but Daemon lacked finesse in social situations, and couldn't have cared less that this was a war zone. He had to make sure that he wouldn't be wasting his time...if this man had any importance at all, then Daemon would have no choice but to strike at him with everything he had. If not, well...Daemon would simply have to move on, if possible. He tossed the limb aside - it had been licked clean, and served no further purpose - before repeating his question. "...Who are you?" A harsh breeze pushed his hair away from his face, revealing what had been hidden in shadow - his lack of eyes, and the black, tinted skin that replaced them.

[Nyx]

Nyx saw as her arrows hit nearly every target, after greeting her comrades. For that was the result of practice, trained accuracy, and as much as she hated to admit it, Gregory's work. Who knows, maybe the advanced agility and balance she now possessed would lead to his death. Pathetic worm. He had been too scared to capture a subject stronger than a little girl. Too slothlike to capture a subject, he had to give a little orphan girl false hopes that someone even gave a crap. She stopped her thoughts- Anger had its place, and war was a dangerous place for anger. Anger was best kept off the battlefield, lest one loses their head, quite literally at that. As she thought, she saw a flicker of movement. Before the gun was raised, she had already entered a side-flip, not to mention cracking out 4 more arrows. She landed, the bullet having just barely clipped a feather of one of her wings. She smiled faintly, never one to be rude, even during battle.

"Hello ma'am. I'm Nyx, it is nice to meet you, though it would have been nicer if we would have met elsewhere. I'm afraid I have to kill you. You see, I know you all want to hurt Hild and Aurel. But you can't do that, and I won't let you. Terribly sorry for what I have to do." Then she contemplated another thought and added it to her previous statement. "Oh, and please don't trip and fall on a knife! The last person I fought one on one did that, and she died. her name was Ms. Kallie, do you know her? Tell her I'm sorry if you see her!" With that, Nyx began darting rapidly around in a somewhat random pattern, firing off arrow after arrow from various locations, until 16 had been fired, and Nyx had fired at Cora from a wide variety of angles. Let's see her dodge this, Nyx thought to herself...

[Guest]

War. It encompassed the span of the sleeping bear giant, that Nikolaus may once know of battle once again. That his blood boiled from such a delightful prospect, that he may experience what is nostalgia. Spurred by the embers of chaos that is whence he is most at home. That where he is closest to Father. That he may fulfill the purpose of his existence as soldier. A warrior that delves into the trades of the death of the enemy in the absolutes. Taking off that is which is his bomber jacket, he wore it akin to a cape draped over his shoulders. Discarding that which is the drink of hot cocoa after a final sip earlier, to the snow.

Standing up from the plastic chair, NO, his throne which he took from Drachma and reclaimed it for Amestris. Such a conquest that was. Flexing his back as a helicopter flew overhead, and not an Amestrian kind. Ah well, from the looks of things, the rockets were blowing out to destroy everything, rend the flesh off of these hordes... these convicts. Men whom Nikolaus cared not for, the land the Colonel stood on was a holy ground of his, and they were animals along with that flying steel beast with rotors which flew overhead was as well. There was no difference. The only place for an animal in a holy ground was for slaughter.

Funny. Nikolaus was promptly ignored, the helicopter above was in fact overlooking him, yet he had not suffered the attrition of destruction, not consumed and moreso untouched by fragments. But no matter, the thralls were vanquished from the fiery blast, looking back to smile at Envy, a sincere smile, amidst all the destruction which warped the artillery, "Such killjoys these Drachmans are, but I figured now was the time they would've come. They couldn't ignore a threat this small. But they are like cattle to a slaughter, and my use for kine is merely sacrifice."

From a side and another, he felt heat and cold intermingled so, blood stained the ground, and steel had been dented and rendered inoperable. Nikolaus himself, briskly disappeared. He sees things others do not, and perceives things others cannot. Blending into the smokes drifted by the winds, caused by such destruction by the angry Drachman bear. A smirk was what was seen last Nikolaus would've been seen by his attendants.

The men, the soldiers, nay, the horde, were left to the Kuvalda Commander's designs, yet the Corporal was a survivor. Not all it seemed to him as it would have, as he too disappeared. A mask he wears, that of inexperience when not is all that seems with that attendant.

The woman, the only survivor, the only one who was alive from the desecration of her body, of the filth she was subjected to, scrambled so from the man, as if she was safe. Behind him. As if she was finally... finally free of this carnage... that maybe she can go back home to her family. She was save from the fates of having her intestines spilled out, but never had she felt so dirty in her life, for her sanctity breached by these... THUGS.

She turned around to face Ivanka, clutching unto her ripped blouse, obscuring her chest, tears of joy were there, streaming down her cheek, smiling happily that she was free of the suffering her friends have gone through, that she was in fact avenged, that her comrades were avenged, she knew the Kuvalda commander by face, he was the poster boy of all Drachmans in military performance, "C-comrade Ivanka...! I... I am grateful... you saved me. These pigs were going to ruin me, kill me, I would have died if it weren't for you... I would have... t-thank you, I owe you alo--"

There were no more to be said, such smoke obscuring a silhouette of a figure behind her, behind Ivanka, had parted her head from her shoulders. Her lifeless body was kicked to the ground by the soles of jackboots, limp, a hand grasped for her hair, holding up the decapitated prize, blood pouring, soaking the whiteness of the snow.

Metal shined, as the smoke cleared, a boot plants on the half-naked female corpse, conquering her, she was beneath dirt to him. Nothing more than a Communist whore, another body to the count. Left hand holding what dripped with the blood of another Drachman's life, a saber, and a grin most wicked shined.

An expression of discontent horror settled into the face of the woman whom was saved, that a moment later slain. Her eyes briefly move, her jaws gap and close, alive. It did not know that death already took her. It only settled in once Ivanka, if Ivanka, looks at her still-alive decapitated head which soon withdraws and expires. Gurgling blood to a halt. Eyes finally closing as the darkness of death's icy hands finally reached out to her.

A Colonel. A creature of darkness, that massacres such as these were to attract vile men of cruelty. Neither bravery nor a lack of fear caused them to stay. Their tune was death, an allure that attracted the wicked of certain amoral temperaments such as he; Nikolaus Stuka. His is that of extreme sadistic glee so evident in his face. His is that of prolonged suffering instead of a swift and merciful death, as they are all wastrels. Not worth the Colonel's tempered hands nor his respect. They haven't earned it. They are beneath it. Even those men, those penal soldiers he commanded, lorded over, were all driven to death without a moment of regret.

Instrument of death delivering unto the woman the demise, that none have survived. A saber of an officer, given typically to high ranking ones.

Only three were in this summit, only three were survivors from each side. From Major Sherman and the Corporal, to the Kuvalda duo and the pilot. Mindful of them, facing them and Ivanka, but towards the maddened beast more. Peering not at Ivanka, but rather through him. An arrogance that he is not even an obstacle, merely a foothold. A warm up despite such impressive prowess.

Two faced one another, in this divide of a distance no less than seven feet apart. The agent of Fascism, in comparison to the champion of Communism. Standing tall and true, that he was unlike any of the horde Ivanka faced, a shepherd that brought them to be butchered, and no less than that. The obviousness of the position, the lack of friends nearby but they. The attention getting artillery pounding. That towns of specific choosing were pounded.

A proximity easily reached, that it would be obvious -- nobody brought to this summit was expected to survive. Everyone was to die. That blood may encompass. So aptly named this summit, appropriately.

"You are quite the obedient puppet, little brat. So stupid, so naive, so retarded. You have done exactly as I wanted you to do," He says, that-which-brings-death, waving his saber to the side, rippling across the metaphorical water, teasing, an air of certainty about, mocking, degrading, "That expression on her face was priceless too! That hope, small lingering hope, just snuffed out in a sweep of a blade, HAH! Pathetic in the end, you saved NOBODY. Your little Drachman bitch just died, just like that, and you could not do a damn fucking thing."

He shook the woman's head around, the mouth flapped opened and closed, turning it around to face him, chuckling at it, making a puppet out of her, "Ooooh, look at me. So happy I was saved! But then the dashing Stuka came along and killed me... HANDSOMELY. He is SOOOO awesome, what more can us stupid Drachmans ask for? He took the time out of his life to kill our STUPID BUTTS. We REALLY deserve that, because we are FILTHY COMMUNISTS. HAW HAW HAW." This mockery was so delicious, glimpses were given from Nikolaus to Ivanka, smiling at him cruelly, as he turns said head puppet around, shaking it around as it flaps the mouth further, attention slanted to Ivanka, sadistic pleasure expected from twisting him into a kindled rage he loves to see. "Ooooh, please oh please save us, you lovable Drachman walrus you, because all of us are USELESS, that's why we got our BUTTS KILLED AND PROFOUNDLY SHARED BY THOSE NICE CAPITALIST AMESTRIANS!"

[Guest]

"I apologize, I should have been speaking Amestrian sooner, da? Now, it is pleasing me that you are laying down arms, but it is being impossible that I can let you go after all of the damage you have been making. You will be coming with me back to Moscow, and then there will be deciding on your tria-". She shook her head. She didn't expect everybody in this world to speak Amestrian, so when he spoke out in that language, she was, to be frank, slightly shocked. To add to that... she'd just been saved by the quiet looking girl who had recently stopped her attack? She was confused right now, and rubbing her forehead, before jumping out of the way, at the "command" that she gave off. At least, she thought it was a command. She was pretty sure that it was...

Shouting out, the explosion from the artillery barrage caused her to jump backwards again, already breathing quickly. She wasn't used to this, it wasn't good, she wasn't a soldier.. She was a druid. She was just an Alchemist. Closing her eyes, Deirge screamed. She didn't just scream a scream of fear, it was a scream of the utmost terror, brought about by the realization that she could die right now. She couldn't do it, she couldn't do it... going onto her knees, she heard a voice speaking in Drachman, and then a voice speaking to her specifically in Amestrian, "If you are truly surrendering, then you will be waiting here with Private Mendvev. If you are not wanting to cause trouble and to being safe, then wait in bunker and do not move. I will be returning after enemy is pushed out of Drachma, then there will be trial for you. Understand, da?" She shook her head slightly, knowing that she wouldn't be here when the man returned. She finally got to her feet, and nodded again, "I understand." And yet, in the back of her mind...

I'm sorry. BOOM. An explosion rocked out, causing Deirge to look into the air and gasp loudly. No... NONONONONONONONO!

JOKER

He'd ejected already. The moment the attack collided with the Normandy, something had fallen from beneath it, plummeting towards the earth, a Cretan man at the helm. He waited as he fell and looked up to the sky, bowing his head lightly. Goodbye, Normandy. It was... nice knowing ya. The small, six-wheeled vehicle plummeted further, before Joker flicked a switch. Small jets from beside the wheels started up, slowing the descent of the vehicle as it slowly landed on the ground. He smirked internally, and pulled up his tracker. Okay, Shepard was closer. Pulling on the throttle, the wheels started up and he moved off with a scraping of gravel, towards the area where Deirge was, hoping that he'd find her.

DEIRGE

A vehicle was approaching, now. The Mako, the escape pod that existed in the Normandy for situations such as this. It allowed for up to four people in it's cockpit, and was good for a quick escape. IF Joker was in there... that meant that the Normandy was lost. She lowered her gaze for a half second, before turning towards Private Mendvev. He was the one she had to get past, and so... she suddenly lunged forwards, pushing her shoulder into his chest and knocking him backwards from the attack. She didn't miss a beat, and knelt down suddenly. She placed her hands onto the ground, and her Alchemy began to slowly activate, creating what could be called a "magic circle" around Mendvev's feet.

"Heed my call, Chains of Heaven. Face that which I choose. Bind them into sleep. I ask of you, Queen Moon." The circle glowed, and Mendvev attempted to escape, as the earth began to slowly snake up and around his body in the shape of chains. It took a half-second to make shape, and then they hardened around his body, leaving him trapped. She blew him a kiss, winked, and then stepped into the vehicle that had now stopped in front of her. "Let's go, Jeff." "Hey, you used my name!" "Psh. Let's go." The vehicle started up again, and sped off into the distance, following the trail left by Rebecca's tracker...

A couple of minutes later, and they reached her position, speeding past Zinaida and skidding to a half in the path of the pair, Deirge leaning out of the door. "C'mon!" She shouted out at the other, reaching out to bring her into the vehicle and looking out at Zinaida, hoping that she doesn't respond in kind. Pulling away from the large mechanical beast, Deirge could only look towards the distance, as they drove southwards and to safety. Through Briggs, and then to Creta they would return...

[EXIT THREAD]

{If you don't like this, Izzy or Vi, I can fix it.}

[Guest]

As Tristao was racing down the narrow streets on top of his very own pet lion, he caught a quick glance to his right and notice Cat right there next to him. The young, naive leader couldn't help but laugh and gives a slight head nod to her out of please. He turns his head to the left, expecting to see Fran running right next to him, how she always did. To his surprise, she was no where to be seen. This image made him frown, and he shakes his head and mumbles to Lucian.

"Hey boy, turn around. We need to get Fran..." His voice was meek as he spoke. "Cat, go on ahead to the train station. I have to get the others." Soon the leader of the guild is racing in the opposite direction of Cat. He soon find Frans giant beast sprinting towards him. "Oh come on, let's get your master!" He grumbles at the spotted creature before it soon follows the boy back to Fran and Vito. "Here you go Vito, ride on Frans cat. Fran get on Lucian's back with me. He can carry the both of us." The young boy smiles and awaits his best friend to get on the back of his lion. "I know you're pissed Franny, I can tell by your facial expression... but I just don't know the answer to anything right now. Please don't be mad..."

With that, the three soon found themselves at the train station. Tristao went on ahead of the group and bought the tickets for each member. Soon, the group was making their way south on the train. At this point it was all a waiting game, because they couldn't do anything until the train reached it destination.

------------

After riding through the night, the guild awoken to a beautiful small train station. They had arrived. Inside his chest, Tristao's heart was pounding louder than he could bare. It was almost time for battle. He jumps out of the train and looks around, clueless. All the beast were locked in the back of the train, and they weren't to thrilled when they were walked out.

"Well, now what?" He was utterly confused. He didn't know what to do and it was any of their guesses now....


[Sorry if I made your characters do something. I had to get them to the south faster... I hope that's okay!]

[Guest]

Fran's voice rang out behind her, glancing back as she saw that she had remained behind with Vito. Curses, her blood had sang so loud with the song of war that she hadn't even thought of the fact Miguel and Vito were catless. At least Vito and Fran wouldn't be alone this way. Her eyes refocused ahead of her, glancing to the sound of Tristao's laugh. Had she done something amusing? Nodding once in return, the young Amazonian could feel that clenching in her chest tighten ever so slightly, but for what reason she knew not. There was frustration at her carelessness towards her teammate, but... somehow it seemed better that Fran and Vito go together. It tightened again. It must be apprehension for what was to come.

"Hey boy, turn around. We need to get Fran..." Catalina's ears perked up as her leader and friend spoke, knowing Shade didn't really need her to pay attention to know where to go. "Cat, go on ahead to the train station. I have to get the others." The black panther slowed slightly beneath her, golden eyes glancing back since it wasn't like they were in any real threat of running into a building or some such. "Understood." With that, her heels dug gently into Shade's sides, giving two sharp cries as Tristao headed back for the others. Hold on, did Shade even know where to go?

As if he could sense the question in her mind, the panther turned down a street, tail flicking back and touching her in the spine. It brought a smile to her lips as they raced through the snow, listening to the strange tongue that echoed down streets followed by gunfire. It was a rather gutteral tongue, flowing yet choppy. It was so different from her own native tongue. Then the giant birds in the sky. No, they weren't birds. They... they were planes! Yes, that is what they were. .... They were still birds to her. It was all so violent and fresh, so.... she wasn't sure how to put it. But it set her on edge more than usual. This was warfare she wasn't used to. She shouldn't use the tools she was used to using for they were obsolete. Who used spears or obsidian daggers except for her people? She pulled out a pistol at her waist, looking at the boom-boom stick with a grimace and a sigh. Soon...

They turned another few corners before arriving at the train station, waiting patiently for the rest of her guild. "Are you worried Shade?" She asked her giant companion, sliding off of his back to stand next to him. He should be allowed to rest after all. It wasn't like she expected a real answer, but she still spoke to him anyways. Sometimes she felt far closer to him than anyone else. Maybe it was because they were both from the jungle, she didn't know. His large pink tongue flicked out and licked her hand, his sharp teeth peeking out as he shook his head. Bumping her hand a couple of times, he was clearly more concerned about her. He knew something was up, just not necessarily what. A faint, brief smirk passed over her lips, her grip tightening upon the pistol in her other hand. "I'll be fine. Its just all so... strange." The thought drifted off as everyone else showed up, rubbing his head before they separated to ride the train.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A jolt. Catalina startled as she began to draw her dagger from the fur greaves upon her legs, having to force herself to stop. They had merely arrived. Following after Tristao, she knew she was being quieter than normal, her mind elsewhere. She was well-trained, she had been born to fight, she... would be fine. Shade bounded out to her once they were released, his golden eyes staring at her with a knowing look. Trotting up behind her, he pushed her bum with his head, at least calling out a chuckle from her. She was being far too thoughtful for his tastes. Sliding onto his back, the amazonian glanced between her teammates and took a deep breath. May the Goddess protect us all.

"Well, now what?" She shrugged lightly, but then the ticking of gunfire rang out none too far from them, maybe a few... erm... blocks. Right. A few blocks over. Why were they called blocks? ....Why was she wondering about such things now of all times? "I'll scout ahead." She said quite plainly, her dark eyes resting upon each of her teammates before Shade bounded off. Her gaze had lingered upon Vito as a fleeting smile flickered over her features, still rather amused by the situation of their last meeting. There was more of a connection between them because of it, this she was sure of. Perhaps she'd ask him about it later.

The gunfire was louder now, the black panther slowing as they maneuvered down a narrow alleyway. Remaining unseen was key, but difficult. It wasn't like either of them quite blended in with the stark white of the snow. At least there were plenty of shadows. Clambering carefully off of his back, the tall Amazonian crept forward with the utmost care. There was a fight going on. Drachman's on one side and... she supposed those were the Cretan's. Weren't they some sort of allies with Creta though? How would this affect that standing between the two countries? It was true that they were supposed to aid Drachma, but she just couldn't help but wonder if this was really the right thing. Just follow orders. Don't worry about the rest.

"Wot the 'ell?" A voice. Cretan. Shit. Whipping about, Catalina drew out her pistol and fired without a moments hesitation, the royal guard grunting as the bullet grazed his arm. "Captain, there are Esparian's about!" He yelled as he crouched behind a trash can, firing at the strangely clad woman before him. She too took cover, but it wasn't exactly an ideal situation considering she was in the middle of the alleyway. Shade snarled and leaped forward, bearing down on the man as Catalina fired another shot at him. It was enough of a distraction for her feline companion to promptly begin to rip the man to shreds. Honestly he didn't have much chance. Shade was as big as he was, had claws and fangs. His screams ricocheted into the sky. So much for subtlety.

Taking the opportunity to bolt, her long legs propelled her after the panther, doing her best to dodge the bullets that came from behind her. At least the drachman's were some sort of distraction even if unintentional on their part. Clicking her tongue, she pointed down the street to the left, the pair running for a short distance before taking cover. The Cretan's had their hands full for the moment. Taking a deep breath, she then gave a call that was reminiscent of birds from their home country as a signal for the others, Shade keeping a close eye out for enemies. It raised in pitch and then she gave her distinctive, "Ay-ay!", crouching down low before she sprinted forward, checking her pistol before she joined the fray. They had a sniper and probably alchemy, the cursed thing. She had to be careful. Clicking her tongue again in a distinct pattern, Shade nodded and ran off in the other direction, leaving her to plan her attack. She ducked inside of a building, her own pistol shots ringing out from the windows, remaining crouched low so to be as little a target as possible.

[Guest]

Explosions rang out in various sections of the city, Vivian's own group only adding to the crescendo as the forces of Amestris and Creta moved in. Street by street the small squad of Royal Guards pressed onwards, only sustaining a couple of injuries along the way. The Kremlin could be glimpsed from where they hid, her rifle long since abandoned for lack of ammo. Dietrich wouldn't mind too much she suspected. *krrrsh* ”Lady Duchamp, should you need it, we do have artillery support available in small numbers. And please, avoid collateral damage if at all possible, my dear. Otherwise, have fun…” *Krrsh* Huh, speak of the devil and he shall appear. Gunfire rang out as her men cleared the way, steadily moving up the block as she brought up the rear, her pistol ringing out in the background as she responded, krrrrsh"Copy that sir." Quick, to the point. It wasn't like she had a lot of ability to think of a better or answer. As of now support was unnecessary, they were making fine progress on their own.

"Move move move!" She barked, whipping around out of cover to push forward, about to fire at the enemy before her when he went down rather suddenly. Who had fired the shot? Looking upwards to the roof as the Drachman militants fell, she saw a vaguely familiar figure perched up there as ships screeched overhead. Gabrielle Lion, support from Carraig that King Etheridge was so kind to grant. It was good to see her here. "Thanks 2nd Lieutenant Lion. Continue providing supporting fire from your position. Goal is the Kremlin." She spoke into the receiver, hoping that the girl would hear it as her blue eyes looked up to the two airships fighting. One was such a distinct red while the other appeared practically brand new. But who did it belong to?

More gunfire. Not time to think. "Captain, Drachman forces gathering at Kremlin. There appear to be Amestrian forces inside fighting members of RIOTE. Confirmed Brigadier General Aeries inside with another small force. Continue as planned?" Spoke Trimble as they ducked into cover together. Bearer's.... And the Head of Central. The raven haired woman was quiet for a moment as the gunfire down the street lessened. "Yes. Continue as planned. We will provide support for-" "Captain!" Davidson.

She straightened up, her attention entirely upon the man's call from the small alley across and a bit up the street. "Captain, there are Esparian's about!" Bugger. Straightening up, she nodded to Trimble and fired five more shots, taking out the drachman's standing there. "Watch your backs!" Then the scream. She froze in the middle of the blood strewn street, she knew those kinds of screams too well. Davidson.... BASTARDS! Her expression twisted as she ducked forward to avoid a bullet, firing two of her own in response. God. Damn. Bastards. Already she had lost one. No more. This wouldn't turn out like before! But those screams also meant one thing. She just needed to confirm. Darting down the alleyway, she came upon the mutilated corpse, pity contorting her pale features as she crouched down next to him. "You served well soldier." She murmured softly, the warmth in her bright blue eyes turning to hard sapphire as she straightened up. It was that team indeed.

Striding back onto the bloody street, she signaled for them to move forward, reloading her gun as she picked up some snow in her hand. It melted into water, forming a long stream that was essentially the shape of a whip, coiling it up in her hand. Son of a bitch must pay. "Watch yourselves men, there will be four or five of them. Three should be riding giant cats. One of those is here. Take them out." She spoke in a low voice, the Blue Valkyrie full of righteous indignation. Not. One. More. They continued to press onward, tightening up as a group as their goal drew closer and closer.

[Guest]

"The head is not more native to the heart,
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father."

Ah, the Prince of Denmark, Hamlet, whose story is both tragic and enlightening. The lieutenant let out a gentle sigh and close the book, placing it back into his coat pocket. He was on his way to Drachma, on an airship, and his destination? The Kremlin, the capitol building of Drachma, where the Czar had been murdered and this uprising began. If the Drachman people really embraced this change so much, then were these actions by Amestris ethical? He knew the answer, but would the Drachman people see it the same way if it were explained to them? That was uncertain, since different people had different reasons for believing certain things. Regardless, Amestrian, Cretan, and even Xingese forces would be moving in to try and rid Drachma of its RIOTE infestation.

It was a sad thought, so much war in so little time, and Amestris, while a powerful force, would have difficulty recovering after battle if this trend were to continue. That alone caused the brunette to put a hand to his chin in thought. RIOTE seemed to have picked the perfect time to do all of this...first, from what he had heard, the leader had emerged at the end of the war with Creta, which ended quite well as far as wars go. There was a clear connection between that event and the current battle, so the only question remaining was whether this would escalate or not, which Alex didn't really want to think about. What was important was getting there and getting done what was necessary.

Traveling to Drachma was a milestone for many different reasons. The purpose or nature of the journey was as important as the journey itself. If the latter were any more important, it would exceed everything else surrounding this event. Why is the journey itself important? It's fairly simple, yet that doesn't detract from its relevance - it marks the point where Alexander Krull had mentally grown, evolved. No longer was he the battle-shy lieutenant he was before. After waking up with a lack of memory of the biggest thing that had happened to him so far, he realized that fighting was inevitable for someone in his position, and that the pacifistic ideologies that had been around longer than he could have imagined proved ineffective for militaristic success. It would defeat the purpose of a military altogether. He also came to the conclusion that his previous behaviors were detrimental to his performance as the Head of Military Operations as well as in social and other work situations (although Reila was partially to thank for that).

It wasn't long before the hum of the flying craft was quieted by the sounds of artillery, and the walls were beginning to be pierced by bullets, one by one, until the holes grew too big to sustain flight. Alex cursed inwardly as they began to descend. Others on the craft started to exit once they were close enough to the ground to allow for a safe fall, and the brunette followed suit as soon as he could, and rolled in the snow upon impact on the ground.

"Shit," he muttered as he watched the craft crash into a nearby building. Standing up, he brushed the snow off of his coat and slipped his transmutation gloves onto his hands. Just as he turned around to see what the situation was, he crashed directly into a man who seemed to be fleeing from a civilian's home. The Drachman woman inside was yelling out of the window, and a man emerged with a machete...A machete? If a Drachman was going to harm the man that he had crashed into....would that make the escapee an ally? Well, that was the lieutenant's train of thought, and as the Drachman man approached, he simply grabbed the latter's wrist. The array on his glove glowed a bright blue, and the victim's face became one of surprise and horror as he stopped dead in his tracks before falling to the ground. His blood was now frozen, and with the cold temperature of Drachma, his death had been unavoidable.

"Hey," he began, turning toward the brown-haired male, "You alright? What happened?"

[Dai]

After Reaver had released his grip on Reila's hand, Dai relaxed slightly, breathing out and chuckling, his eyes resting on the redhead who was now standing a little closer than he had before. Elastor... Ito. Ito. He rolled the name over in the back of his head a few times. Ito, Ito, Ito. Scratching the back of his head, Dai sighed, "Who do you think you are?" ... ... ... Don't laugh, Dai, don't laugh. "I am no Queen. I belong not to Creta nor to the system of kingship. For your information, I am merely the Head of Fort Briggs. I answer to the citizens of Amestris. Who are you? Always...so lovely? I believe we have not yet met, sir. Perhaps you should introduce yourself. We are in the middle of a war you know." A small smirk crossed his face, and he had to stifle a small laugh, keeping a straight face. It wasn't easy. Keeping this passive stance, he suddenly felt hands on his shoulders, and blinked. A few times, actually. "Eh?" He looked at the slightly-taller man for a couple of seconds, before being spoken to by this man with a question that, well, made him think.

"By whom did you acquire that surname? I must know. Tell me." A soldier from another army had touched him on his shoulders. He should be turning around and saying something, but this man intrigued him. Waiting for him to step away, Dai himself took a single step backwards and sighed softly, trying to consider everything that had happened over the years. He had been given the names of his mother, father and uncle; knowing that it was from his mother that he received his name. He breathed out, and prepared to say something... when he was silenced. A finger, an apology, and something about there not being much time, huh? He shook his head and chuckled. They'd talk later. They had to talk later. If they didn't... well... you know. Sighing, Dai suddenly felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and he slipped it out, bring it up to his ear, "Yeah?"

"Lt. Colonel Ito. We are going to be coming past soon. Do you wish for us to standby with you?"

"As pleased as I am that I’ve brought you all here to this quaint stretch of highway, I’m afraid that standing around isn’t very productive. Now, while my… men are scanning the area, I’m sure we can make some use of this ‘spare’ time. I imagine we won’t have long before we have to jump into action.” He looked up at Dietrich, and then at Reila, who had replied to him with a canny smirk lining her face. Alright. He sighed softly and spoke up again into the headset, "Alright. Pick me up, we'll find somewhere to garrison you before the rest move in." He gave a curt nod, before hanging up the phone, slipping it back into his pocket and yawning. Alright. Turning around for a second, he folded his arms. They would be arriving soon. Watching the distance, he thought things over for a second, and sighed. Okay. His heart had already started beating loudly, quite rapidly at that...

Guh. Calm yourself, Dai. His eyes flickered over to Reila for a second, before going back to the direction that this vehicle was supposed to be coming from. The seconds drew out into hours, it seemed. Every word was slowing down around him, and he wasn't sure why. He bit his lip, fidgeting in the spot. Ugh. Was it what Reaver had done? Did that... bother him? Was he feeling jealousy? Ugh, this was the wrong time. So the wrong time. Closing his eyes, Dai opened them again, looking out. Damnit, it still felt like the world was slowing down around him, while his heart increased it's beating speed. Closing a hand, he let off a small breath, wisping out in front of him. Even if they couldn't hear him, he chuckled and spoke quietly, "It's not as beautiful as Briggs, I'll admit. But it has a quaint feel to it." His smile softened, and as the snow fell around his head, he closed his eyes and stood there, calm as if nothing was occurring. Oh, what was he doing? He was trying to stay calm, but it wasn't working. Flicking a look back, he noticed Reila once more, her power emanating from her as if it was a beacon in the world's heart.

His thoughts were interrupted by a vehicle turning the corner towards them, bearing the Amestrian Military insignia. Ah, there they were. Smiling to himself, Dai turned back to the group, bowing lightly to Dietrich and his soldiers, giving Shula's group a curt nod, and then looking at Reila from the corner of his eye. Alright. Y'know what? Screw this. He'd worked it out. He realized why everything was slowing down around him. Why wouldn't one be flustered with such a beautiful woman in front of them? The sounds of the vehicle was coming in closer, and stepping forwards, Dai looked at the group once more, speaking out, not sure if he was doing anything that would annoy those before him, "Apologies. I need to speak with Reila... for a second." He nodded, and then turned to the woman, getting his thoughts straight and noticing his soldiers out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm going to go ahead with my soldiers, scope out Moscow for some good positions. I might not see you for a bit. If I don't see you..."

bathump.

His heart was beating heavily in his chest.

Ba-thump.

Sweat lined the man's forehead, even though it was completely frozen in the air.

BA-THUMP.

He swallowed, dryly gulping and making up his resolve. The red-headed Alchemist stepped forwards and took Reila's hand, leaning in slowly and planting a slightly tentative kiss on her lips, before pulling back and pushing a little harder, holding it there for a second and then stepping away. He stayed silent for a little bit, before proffering the woman a confident and yet kind smile, "Good luck, stay alive. I love you." His voice was soft and calm, and he turned away from her, stepping into the APC that had stopped right beside them, and clambered in, nodding at his soldiers with a smirk. "Let's go." Turning to look out the door, the vehicle pulled away into the distance, heading towards Moscow...

Okay. Sappy moment over. His usual persona gone, the confident Daigoro was now out, commanding his men as he normally would. Right now, he didn't need to be with them back there. He needed to be here, with his soldiers, strategizing. "Alright. We're going to be covering the Kremlin, making sure that we aren't in the direct line of fire." He pulled out a map of Moscow, and placed it onto the ground, kneeling down in front of it and studying it carefully. A building came into his view, and he smirked. Large. Strong. That was perfect. "Nika, to me. We're going to be going into this building here. It's close to the Kremlin, and we can keep easy watch over it in case of emergencies. Nika, you'll be leading the team into the building, clearing it and making strategic positions while I assist with the assault on the Kremlin. Pepper anyone who comes close." He nodded, and as the vehicle moved through the now-darkened Drachman terrain, he knew that tonight... was no easy night.

[Jay Furor]

Jay grinned triumphantly on the battlefield, watching as her men did their jobs exceptionally. They had successfully entered Drachma and began combat, and Jay was PROUD! A small team of Drachman infantry appeared over the horizon, and Jay saw fight to jump from her makeshift stage, and begin combat herself. Seven men, armed with rifles. Piece of easy, or some similar saying or idiom. Jay gave a mighty cry of "[color=white]Eat bullets, you Drachman FIENDS![color]", before raising Uno to her automail arm, and holding it sideways, just to scare the brown stuff out of them. Who WOULDN'T eject their boewls in fear of a psycho-chick who wields her 200-300 pound minigun like a gangsta, ONE-HANDED? In ease, she tapped the trigger, jerking it sideways, as bullets flew out, obliterating the soldiers. She then pulled another gangster move, and blew the barrel of her weapon as steam rose from it. "I could go for some vodka now..."

Jay then decided to take a leisurely stroll around Drachma to pass the time as Alex arrived by means of parachute. She was pretty near the Kremlin by the time she noticed him in the sky, and was about to wave when she saw an APC driving towards her. She moved out of the way, but then noticed a familiar face sitting in the vehicle. Dai! Grinning, she waved an arm to halt the vehicle, and opened the door, beaming at Dai. "Sup. Know you got crap to do and stuff, but remember me? Haha~ Oh, and this is for the cash back in South! I felt kinda bad taking all your money for a little red rock." So speaking, she handed Dai 5000 Cenz, and grinned. She waved at him, and backed away from the door. "Well, catcha on the flipside~ Stop by Kanama some time, I'll be there~" And with that, she closed the door, and waved on the vehicle. Well, well, well, there was always someone she knew somewhere...

She then wandered aimlessly, until Alex landed safely on the ground nearby. Walking over to him, she grinned, waving. "Hey bro, what took yah so long? No one ever accused YOU of being late to arrive, eh? Haha~ I've been through three pep talks and speeches, flown all the way here, fought off a small squad, and you still got here after all that! Haha, so what's the plan? I vote for a good old Amestrian hack-slash strategy." Ah, twas good to have her friend with her in combat. She must have looked so odd to him though, in her sewn-poorly-from-scratch uniform, bearing the name, Kanama Minutemen...

[Guest]

(NPC Killcount: 5)

He was already a fair distance from where the Amestrian pigs had been 'dropped off.' Some of the scum had taken to hiding out in the buildings or dispersing into the neighborhood, as his last misadventure had shown.

Already, as he was headed eastward, he had cut down another fool who had gone too far ahead of his team. A swift decapitation, probably so sudden he never got a chance to realize what happened.

(6)

"Blasted Amestrians, crawling about our beloved Moscow like vermin. **** THEM ALL! The exterminators are back in business!!" he mutters, snarls, and spits in rage. A shot rang out, and just barely struck him, instead burrowing into the snow. The unamused Drachman-Xingese looked to the source: Amestrian cowards hiding inside the buildings, just a couple floors up. They were cursing in their wretched language about having missed and pulled back into the room, expecting retaliatory fire.

Hei instead decided to jump. They were only on the second floor and given he was ridiculous when it came to scaling buildings, it wasn't much effort to jump high enough and slam his weapon through the wall so as to embed onto the building . . . which he then used as a surface to climb up and hop inside the window.

Three Amestrians hiding out. Two were by the door, the one who had shot at him was backing up ... and the dumbass wasn't even holding his weapon level for a proper shot, instead having relaxed his arms and positioned it to the floor. Silly fool, that's why your guard and gun must be up when you face MONSTERS! Hei snapped his left arm forward, beckoning an odd mechanism or means of containment to summon the shortened shotgun that was hidden in the sleeve of his coat, instead of shooting it though, the motion flung it forward with enough force and proper direction so as to hit Amestrian #1 right in the face. The fool clutches his face, not his weapon, just as his comrades here the noise.

Hei rushes forward, and hand extended, meant to impale like a spear, and slammed right through the poor man's chest. Considering the physical force behind it, Hei's entire arm went right through this Amestrian, straight through his heart, and anything else in the way. So, now he had a meatshield stuck on his right arm. His left had already snagged the rifle of the corpse, and well. The other two, shocked initially to see their comrade die so suddenly, began to fire, and the bag of flesh in front of Hei bore the brunt of the bullets.

(7)

The Drachman-Xingese charged, and slammed into one of the soldiers off to the right, while pissing a whole crap load of metal to the left to deal with the other soldier. All this happened so soon, so quickly, that he avoided taken a direct hit from a bullet, since neither could adjust their aim in time. The left died from multiple bullet wounds in vital organs plus his brain, the right one was sent flying backwards into a wall after impact, with a loosened grip on his gun so that it was relinquished after such collision. Needless to say, the sole survivor soon ceased to be one.

(9)

He tore his arm out of the body, letting the wretched cadaver drop unceremoniously to the floor. Already, more footsteps were coming from outside the room: No doubt more Amestrian pigs, wondering what all that noise was. Hei strode to the windowsill, where the blade of his zweihander had impaled through the wall. The Xingese merely grabbed the whole thing and wrenched the handle out of the wall and inside the building. While he let his left hand grab the blade's handle, he then looked about the mess to find his small shotgun, which was promptly picked up by the right, just as the door was busted down. And three more Amestrians entered with weapons drawn.

They shouted in the coarse language for him to drop his weapons, as he straightened his back. Fool #1's heartless corpse was still sitting on the floor. They made threats to shoot (which Hei thankfully understood), Hei was not amused: He kicked up #1's corpse at the trio, whose immediate reaction to the action was to shoot. Once more, the corpse took the bullets (or some of them) while Hei ducked down and rushed over. They didn't get knocked over as he had hoped, but were disturbed by what just happened that they didn't notice the wide swing of his blade. Until it was mostly too late.

He had flung his shotgun right, again (He never seems to shoot the damn thing, instead throwing it at enemies when needed) right into the poor man's crotch over there. While the right-ward idiot keeled over, his right hand then gripped the handle of the blade and a glorious swing was made from left to right, cleaving through flesh thanks to ludicrous strength and an impressively sharp blade. Two were bifurcated, the last clutching his nuts. He did not remain in agony of injured privates for much longer as a vertical swing split his mind in half.

(12)

'God. Are all Amestrians this incompetent? Or were they not expecting such tactics to be employed against them?' the Drachman militant ponders to himself as he collects his shotgun again. And screaming is heard. Well, more like a cursing, which draws his attention to the window. Down the street, at another building a little ways off, a Drachman woman who strangely had not fled the premises, was hollering at someone ... male ... and another male in an AMESTRIAN UNIFORM was standing there. As a Drachman man emerged from the building with some bladed weapon in hand. The Amestrian then attacked the Drachman, did something ... and the Drachman keeled over and died.

Had to have been Alchemy. Or else how would have the poor citizen have keeled over and died? But if it was an Alchemist who worked with the Amestrian Military.

"A FUCKING STATE ALCHEMIST!!!!" the black-attired killer snarled aloud, again, upon the realization that one of his most hated things was in this city and killing Drachman citizens. A couple more Amestrians seem to be heading down the street, seeing this Alchemist and trying to approach him. The man that the Alchemist was talking to did not seem to be donning an Amestrian uniform, but given that two more were blocking his line of sight, Hei wasn't quite sure.

Hei let out a bout of sheer hatred, through the form of a loud bellow/roar of madness before getting a running start and leaping out the window. He soared quite a distance forward given that he was above ground-level in the first place, and landed a couple meters behind the Amestrian soldiers. Drachmans closeby had heard the screaming and his yells, and rushed down the street from behind Hei as the Captain charged again. The Amestrians directly in front of him turn, bewildered, just as Hei plants his left boot into the chest of the one on the left and sent him flying with enough force to go through the wall of the building that he was kicked into. He probably had some possibility of survival, but considering he impacted headfirst, it was unlikely. The right one was unlucky enough to get skewered by the zweihander.

(14)

The Drachman militants were swarming behind him, fortunately for him, a number of them knew that the insignia on the coat of his uniform designated him as a member of their military ... and the stories of the Captain in all-black clothing and armor were quite infamous.

"Give us your orders, Kapitan!" they cried.

"FUCK ALL THE AMESTRIANS!!! KILL THEM!!" he hollered, and the Drachman conscripts and soldiers behind him let out a triumphant roar as they charged forward to confront the lone Alchemist (and another person). About twenty or so of them rushed to get within a good enough range so as to not miss, considering how much vodka each one drank daily.

Hei, on the other hand, was much more concerned about the gathering of forces trying to enter the Kremlin. True there was a substantial number of troops from the Drachma military who were competent stationed there, but alas: His duty was to insure the safety of the Kremlin, not hunting down all the vermins in the street. So away Hei went, in the opposite direction, rushing to Kremlin where a brutal warzone had been made out of the streets. Drachmans in buildings, Amestrians garrisoning buildings, taking cover behind cars or anything large enough to prevent bullets from puncturing through. Yes. Tonight was a long night of war, and Hei loved every second of it, as he finally fired off a blast from his shotgun at an appropriate distance to a poor Amestrian whose back was turned.

(15)

It was going to be a long night of butchering. As he disappeared into the shadows to avoid getting the attention of all the Amestrians here.

[Guest]

Although he didn’t show it, he cringed internally as Reila fell in the snow. Certainly, a woman of her skill and location of deployment could handle a little snow. This… could be troublesome.

”And what might you be suggesting?” he heard Reila ask as he stood back up. A good enough recovery, he supposed…

”Well, if you want to be as relevant as possible, perhaps one could speak of strategies or tactics that can be employed here. If you want to stray away from the war, then I’d recommend a good conversation with my good sir, here, for he is Creta’s sin incarnate, much like how I met yours a fortnight back. If that’s still too relevant, perhaps I could give you a crash course in international politics, economics, governmental styles you might be interested in. Or perhaps we can simply strike a deal then, here and now? I’m sure that, in exchange for some land, I could infuse Amestris with a large sum of currency, and I’m certain that’d help with the reconstruction effort.”

Shifting slightly, leaning on his cane, he adds, ”Or, we could talk of the mundane, for a minute idle is a minute wasted, while a minute spent standing around on a highway ‘shooting the breeze,’ as they say, is merely an inefficient use of time.”

After glancing over at Elastor and Csilla talking, he noticed Shula approaching him. He watches carefully as she gestures and says something in a foreign language. Ishvallan, probably, since it certainly didn’t sound like Esparian. Politely, he emulates the motion she did, but decided to refrain from a poor attempt at repeating what she said. ”A pleasure,” he says simply.

Again, his attention was pulled to the side while Csilla broke apart of Elastor and walked up to him. ”Sir, I am 2nd Lieutenant Csilla Angelis. Brigadier Generals Aeries and Brighton request that I remain at your side and help serve in the defense of the King of Creta. With your permission, I would like to do so.”

”Ah, how polite of you,” he says with a grin. ”Well, it was polite of your commanders to offer one of their own to help protect me, and for that, I thank you. Since you seem to be getting along so well with Elastor, how about you stick with him then? Just follow his lead, and you’ll do fine. Just don’t go running off with him, and I’ll give the highest recommendation I can think of to your superiors.”

Looking over to Elastor, he says, ”And don’t treat her lightly. It’s bad manners to have a loaned soldier die under your care. As far as you’re concerned, she’s priority number two.”

Looking up at the dark sky for a moment, he turns to Reila again. ”General Aeries? Would that mean that Xing’s getting involved again?” he asks, rapping his fingers against his cane. Whenever one was involved, it seemed inevitable that the other would follow…

[Guest]

"Oh!" Momo let out as suddenly she was above the ground and thrown over a shoulder. Panic gripped her for a second before the familiar body odor raptured her heart. She smiled, blond hair hiding the warm expression in the gaze of pivoting arcs of metal. Ivanka. Before she knew it, she was plopped back down to the place that made her feet cold. With wide, green eyes she stared up at Ivanka and watched as everything transpired. A town destroyed so fast...the ground marred with scores of blood that snow could cover, but never erase... He bent down to her then, looking at her seriously and taking time away from his duty to the writhing motherland.

"Momo, I....I do not like to see our people suffer, I do not like to see our homes destroyed and our cities burned. I do not like to make you so sad, but I cannot stop, I have to continue to kill, I have to do it to protect Drachma......I am going to destroy the enemy artillery and stop this-- ...I want you to come with me, I promise I will not leave you alone now, I will end this war and we can go home. I promise."

"And that is why it never ends," she whispered to the sky, wiping tears from her eyes. The white-haired man whose back was so broad--so strong and endearing--so sure that death would stop the death...got into the helicopter. Marismo was sure then that whatever she chose in this moment would change her existence forever. Could she have an effect on the present even if she did not walk with the living? Biting her lip, she felt wind comb through her hair. She shut her eyes--trapped in the gap between the two trapeze. Please let me do the right thing...please. And before the girl knew it, her feet took her the distance to Ivanka in the seat next to him suspended in smokey air.

* * *

The whole ride had been silent, the sound of the air blowing into her ear, making her shiver and wish maybe she had locked herself in a room far away where no one could reach her... so she wouldn't have these feelings--these unwanted feelings that didn't belong anywhere near a battlefield let alone on it. She regretted it--she regretted her existence here, unsure if she could take it--take that snarl that rose up out of the pit of Ivanka's soul. Her heart staggered and she clutched the side of the helicopter, getting out. The pilot swooped back up into the airways, leaving the girl to wander a ways after Ivanka until...

U-until she didn't really know what was happening. So much...just... The sounds of bullets soaking the night air and staining the moon itself a deep crimson reached into her heart and dug its fingernails deep. She had her hands over her mouth before she even remembered she had motor functions. Amestrian soliders cried, screamed, died... just as the civilians had. Marismo couldn't tell the difference. Some were wearing blue...and others...weren't. That was the only difference between them. The only difference. Who was this man...? This bloodthirsty man that had smiled at her just...just a moment ago. He was out there...covered in holes and blood, looking at them like they were scum--like they were the evil ones. What...where were the dividing lines? Nothing was here. Just death. Just dead people strewn about each other in heaps of bodies. They almost looked like rubber--rubber with blank eyes and tomato juice spilled all over them. But they weren't...they were humans.

She swallowed a sob--swallowed the wails rising up in her throat that sang together with the dead, for she understood. Their families, their dreams...taken by Ivanka in the same fashion the civilians were. Why...why? It had to stop somewhere. It had to stop or it wouldn't end. Suddenly she couldn't see...everything was just getting so blurry and her eyes were cold...so cold and it tasted like salt... Drowning in waves on a snowy beach, clutching at grains of sand and ended up with nothing. Nothing. That's was this was.

She crossed the distance between her and Ivanka in a few minutes, all the while huffing and sucking in deep breaths to force the sobs down. Marismo stopped in front him, grassy eyes blaring pure and utter fury. She raised her hand, and before he could do anything, slapped him so hard across the face that he turned completely around. "GET A FUCKING GRIP ON YOURSELF!" Tears poured down her cheeks. She didn't care who he was. She didn't care if he gave her purpose and pulled her from the wreckage. There was no point...no point at all to be here if she couldn't stop him from causing this...this massacre of human life. She lowered her voice. "Did you forget that they are people too? Who do you think you are, God? Does your judgement mean more than theirs? I don't understand...what is wrong with you. You aren't like this... These are human beings, Ivanka. What are you?" Her voice quivered until it was gone, and she swiftly bent to pick up a gun from the ground. She noted the safety was off and held it to her head, pinching the trigger.

"I wonder... what would happen if I pulled the trigger. Would I end up like all these men with eaten dreams? Would I die? Or am I already dead... Is that why...I'm the only one that sees what you're doing as wrong?"


[Note: Dai, your Dei post made no sense you me and you forgot to mention the part where Momo saved your ass. I also hope you have permission to go through Briggs or Tataki will kill you XD]

[Spade Aeries]

Somehow he had missed. Spade stared in horror at the empty place in which the creature had once stood. No blood. He whipped his head up and squinted through his misty aviators, locating him some distance away. Fuck. He was point blank so how the fuck did he miss!? Spade sucked in a breath to calm himself, instincts telling him not to fight this one head on or he would end up dead himself. An intricate plan formulated in his mind...one involving the alcohol in his side pocket. A snicker. And his alchemic circle on his stomach glowed in the dim lighting once more, feasting on the lobes of the enemies surrounding him. Within a ten feet radius, Spade had complete control of their time, limiting his reach and focusing just on the specific area. Everything with a brain stopped moving. He raised his gun quickly before the quick effect wore off and fired once, twice, until his gun clicked empty. He reloaded, dropped his alchemy for but another second, reactivated it, fired again, repeating this until thirteen RIOTE members lay dead on the pavement. Lucky number thirteen... Something didn't set right with the Brigadier General... He took a moment to wipe sweat from dripping into his eyes or maybe to prevent it from freezing there in the damn below-zero winds. How he was sweating in the first place was beyond him.

The man was wandering about the area, still within perfect range of where Spade wanted him. He watched him pull an arm from one of the guys he had just killed on the ground, but it was at his mouth. His mouth...his mouth. Emerald eyes glittered behind the shades, wavering as his stomach sieged with rejection. That there was no human... He had to be a part of RIOTE...licking the blood of his brethren. There really was no doubting it now.

"Tell me...who are you?"

Spade nearly jumped out of his skin, placing a hand against his chest to possibly keep his heart from flying out and back into the wild where it came from. He clenched his other fist, eyes never leaving the empty sockets of the man--no--the chimera that stood just feet from him. If he opened his mouth now...if he gave an answer, who knew how fast that thing was. Spade controlled his breathing carefully, a hand going from his chest to the watch around his wrist. His unfeeling fingers wrapped tightly around the steel wire, pulling it from its resting place and letting it fly in an elaborate web through the treetops and all around until it formed a five-foot "Cage. That's where you belong on this battlefield." Spade swayed slightly, clutching his ribs and ducking through an area he left for himself. He patched it up and popped the top of a container of beer. Taking a swing, he continued, "You don't deserve to be made to fight. You're on the wrong side!" Spade was practically yelling as he began to sprinkle the beer around the entire perimeter of the wire cage so he couldn't easily locate him. He moved fast, pulling out his gun and aiming steadily. "I'm Spade Aeries, the man who only wastes beer for a good reason. Live another day."

Sympathy.

Spade fired, and immediately the flammable wires and the alcohol sprung into tall flames, spiraling up under the sadistic gaze of the moon. "General Aeries, sir, there have been reports at coordinates 5076 regarding the matter of a single man slaughtering our troops on street watch. I have received intel that he is headed your way. Watch out for a Drachman Militant in all black. Tasuku out." Spade moved away from the heat of the fires, sending hails of smoke high into the heavens. He turned around just in time to narrowly save his own hide.

The sound of a shotgun firing echoed in his ringing ears. He felt adrenaline wrap it's bleary hands around his veins, choking them until he could see clearly again. Feeling returned and a slip of blood curled down his shoulder where his other hand listlessly clutched. It oozed between his fingers, head reeling to not drop the gun he held in that hand. Green eyes raised in a blaze of bewilderment and held the sights of a blurry figure blending in with the night. He was the one. He had killed all his men. Spade breathed out, shutting his eyes and feeling the alchemy flow throughout his whole body. His head buzzed with the effort and he snapped his eyes open, reaching with bloody fingers to clasp his bent and bruised zippo. He grabbed a cig from his front pocket and placed it between his pale lips, eyes narrowing. He lit it, listening to the sweet sound of the single flame bursting to life. The man just some distance away would experience the wonderful thrill of a Brain Aneurysm just before...leaving this world like all the others he took with him.

Spade puffed on the cancer stick, waiting to see him fall before he could confirm the body was in fact dead. Taking in a shuddering breath, he pulled the radio to his lips. "S-Shu...ssend reinforcements. Moscow is... bullets are flying everywhere--it's like fucking dodge ball. I got grazed..." He paused, trying to think of what to add to that to prevent her from decking him later and so he didn't sound all over the place like he felt. "Tell Reila to send the other half of her Briggs brigade she has with her there. Now. And give her our radio ch--shit..." The connection cut out because what Spade was seeing...

[Toss Ivanova]

The giant ship crashed below the gallons of smoke left in its wake. Down, down, down it went until it collided...with the Kremlin. "Shit," he murmured to himself, feeling waves of exhaustion waft over him. The entire center of the large building suddenly burst into the flames. He squinted, shifting The Fallacy down to descend out of orbit. He dropped, the gravity throwing itself violently at his body as if trying to crush his very organs, but he couldn't pry his eyes away from the building he had just unintentionally desecrated. How many people had died in that explosion...? The Kremlin was...ruble. "#$@#~^&*" He slammed his face into the dashboard and heaved a loud angry sigh of Ishvallan curses. "GodfuckingdammitI'msuchanidiot!!!" So many years of history... Oops.

He flew viciously close to the fires, blowing most of them out with the momentum of his airship. Flames feasted on air, but too much of something good killed ya. He laughed crazily to himself. "I just gained the title: destroyer of the Kremlin? Seriously...!?" He was in disbelief, looking on his monitor behind him at the scalding embers he left behind. And he felt guilty...because that was something he had been planning on giving to Vanity. Ugh. Why was it that he always failed in the stupidiest, most inconvenient ways?! GODDAMMIT.

Toss raised sweat-coated fingers and bleeped into his machine, setting coordinates for the place that Vanity told him she would be if he dare look for the wench that hated his guts. He moaned into the monitor and set a landing course nearby where snow was cleared the night before. But just before he could fully enter in the set course, something came up on his radar. Nothing else, but a lowly helicopter. Toss muttered under his breath and pressed a few buttons, watching as his laser aimed--he yanked a lever--locked on, and fired. Within only a few seconds, the helicopter flying in range just below the summit of Mertvyi crashed and burned. Luckily this time, the contraption didn't take out anything else in its course of ultimate destruction.

Toss finished entering in the coordinations and The Fallacy eased gently into the runway of RIOTE's secret hideout. Within moments, the greedy homunculus fell out into the snow in a heap of Ishvallan. Just...have to get up...get to the door. He squinted bleary eyes at the ostentatious door that he immediately hated. But at least it was enough to fuel him to get his ass through it. The doors burst open to reveal wet white hair hanging over the sharp red eyes of another inhuman. He grinned, showing white teeth as he slugged across the floor to Vanity. Falling to his knees in half-exhaustion and half-a-joke he elaborately bowed, eyes stuck to the blue orbs of his past savior. "My Queen," he whispered, trying to hide the exhaustion in his voice. "I just blew up the Kremlin."

[Guest]

Walking with Vito was interupttteddd because Tristao hadn't not forgotten nabout them! She grinned and pulled herself up onto the lion's back, looking behind her to see Vito clum-silly yank his body atop the leopard that stared at her with golden eyes as if saying why-do-I-have-to-carry-this-lunk? Franny frowned and nearly fell off the leaping lion whilst tapping Shorea's ears. "Bad-bad you no wanna let Vito-hito ride youuu? Too bad!" Her sea-colored eyes sparked and she turned back around, seeing a train station for the first time. "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaoooooooooooooo!" She leaped off the lion and dove into the first carriage she saw. Luckily, Vito yanked her out before the train took off. It was wrong one? She grinned sheepishly at him, knowing he knew that she knew he knew that she knew she was on the wrong train. Did she choose to act this way? Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss plus s equals Yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

The train with cats on it was funny. They freaked out at first because not only were their paws filled with powdery white weird stuff called snow that was wet, but they were also trapped in a moving box. A MOVING BOX!! It was like a spaceship!! Like Fran really wassss an alium! She bounced around the confines of said box, trying to balance, but falling all over herself until they eventually arrived...and then Cat was gone-gone-so-long! She waved and then looked at Vito as if he had all the answers of the universe. "What--"

Bang.

Searing hot pain burst into her mind, throwing her and her eccentric attitude down the drain-sane-lane... Gone gone gone. "Uuggggh," she breathed, air coming out of her lungs in wispy nothings. She dug her nails into the tile of the train platform and realized suddenly that she was on the ground, clutching her side that was red. Her eyes widened and she turned slowly back to Vito whom she had been staring at just to bother him. Now...something eyes glittered through her hoarse eyes.

Desperation.

Men in Cretan uniforms stampeded out from behind things and more things and it was blurry, but they look puh-issed. Guns blazing, they aimed at her friends, at her shuttering breaths. Fran would soon join everyone else... all her people--the Rouenians--the...what? Was that a...what people called a suppressed memory? Rouenians...was that was Fran was? Rouen... So they were all dead? Would the last one die...tonight?

"Vi...toGO!"

[Guest]

Despite everything, he was beginning to enjoy just wandering along with Miss Francesca. Even if everything was going to end with their battling soon, he wanted to have this little bit of time to be able to talk to her. No, he didn't mean that he was going to die. He just thought... that it would be different after this. They had always been together on the boats, so when he came across something that was on land, he felt nervous. He was a water-based fighter, so this was strange territory for him. As he and Fran walked along, something came up in the distance. Blinking and rubbing his eyes slightly, Vito watched as a couple of big cats approached, one with a rider, one without. ...huh. The man scratched the back of his head and chuckled. So, they came back for them? How nice, how nice indeed. "Here you go Vito, ride on Frans cat. Fran get on Lucian's back with me. He can carry the both of us." With a quick and sharp nod, Vito clambered onto the cat and got his position. Let it be said that Vito was rarely riding big cats, so this was unusual for him indeed. The man adjusted himself on Shorea... who was not too enthused about his presence on his back. And that was the last thought on his mind as the cat rushed off, Vito making loud noises as they ran off into the distance.

---

"Nope" His hand reached out, and he yanked the girl backwards, out of the train just before it left the station. He had to stifle what was both a small laugh and a sigh. Wrong train. Silly girl. And she knew that, didn't she? Cheeky tart. As he dragged her along, he chuckled lightly, before clambering into the train with her and pulling her inside. Smiling to himself, he had to laugh anyway. That was certainly an interesting sight, seeing these big cats in this large metallic cage. And looking down at the girl who was now trying to struggle out of his grip, he couldn't help but chuckle, and shake his head. Smiling, he let go of Fran, and the train started to shudder and move, Vito holding onto a wall to steady himself. It was a long ride from here on in, and he felt like it was going to turn into some crazy ride into Hell. Or some circle of Hell. The man growled lightly to himself, and looked out the window into the fluttering lights of the cities... He wouldn't be sleeping. Not tonight.

---

Fran was staring at him. It was... rather disconcerting, but he enjoyed the attention from the girl. Slowly stepping out of the train, Fran began to talk to him, "What--" Red suddenly appeared on Fran's side, a loud bang resounding through the silence. He blinked, slightly in disbelief. That... no. "Uuggggh," She was on the ground now, right in front of him. He stepped forwards, eyes suddenly changing. The normally-kind visage... twisted into what could only be called rage. Rage. Anger. Sorrow. They were hateful feelings, but he had to bring them up. He had to use them to his advantage. The look in those green eyes were telling him everything he needed to know. Looking up, men ran out and started to shoot at the group of Esparians. Vito nodded to himself.

"Vi...toGO!"

Her voice was muffled by the rustling of a coat, fluttering out in front of her, the large void showing nothing for the man that had taken his position before her. Staring at the group of men in white clothing, Vito Camillo Reyes showed no signs of hatred, only rage. Time slowed before his eyes, and his hands started to move by themselves, sliding into the still upraised coat, slipping into what appeared to be a black dimension. Hands gripped small pistols; Derringers. The pistols were drawn from his clothing, and he held them up before him, eyes cold and dark, showing no emotion. His fingers twitched slightly, and loud bangs ran out, the low-caliber bullets flying out of the cartridge, out of the barrels, flying directly towards the men with nothing to stop them in midair. Not all of the rounds would hit, but they would hit where it counted. A man had a bullet go through his throat, cutting through the jugular; blood splashing onto the white snow. Other bullets hit other targets, men falling to Vito's rain of ammunition. The man was shouting now, insults in Esparian, "PIGS! SWINE! CREATURES OF EVIL! DIE! DIE! DIE!" He was going to protect Miss Francesca, no matter the cost. Spent cartridges and pistols alike littered the ground around his feet, and he had used about twenty now. That was a total of eighty bullets. Eighty bullets flying into the living, making them dead. Their uniforms camouflaged them, but that did not matter when one was covering the area that Vito was. And then...

CRACK. A sound like lightning hit near him. Not, it was not 'like' lightning, it WAS lightning. Diving out of the way, Vito dropped his guns and started to move forwards, sliding a long-nosed pistol out of his pocket, moving a cartridge into the chamber with the precision of threading a needle. He smirked and raised it up, cocking his head to the side and chuckling. Die, Alchemist. He pulled the trigger, and the man fell before him. White snow, red blood. Turning away, he slowly walked back to Fran with a grim look in his eyes, and knelt down in front of her, leaning in and kissing her forehead softly with a kind look in his eyes. She was okay, but she needed medical attention. Ripping a piece of his coat off, he dunked it into snow, wetting it with cold liquid and pushing it up against the wound. "Miss Francesca. Hold it there. Don't stop applying pressure. Your father would not be happy if you died." Chuckling, he reached under her and picked her up in a cradle-hold, walking away with her, carrying her to a place where he could give her proper treatment for now. He would have to find Shorea later, so Fran could be protected by the cat. He would not let his fellow guild members fall today. That was not on his agenda.

[Guest]

Isabella hid inside a building close to the action. Gunfire had erupted outside of the previously calm trainstation, and she heard a train pull in not too long ago. If the trains were running as usually, then someone was being highly illogical. Insane. Stupid. But, if it was selective…

Someone grabbed her on her shoulder. Spinning around, she pushes the stranger back against the wall, her forearm pressing against his neck as she raises her other arm, the lance extending out of it.

”Holy shit, Major! It’s me!” the man says desperately, but quietly.

Isabella sighs, glaring at him and holding her stance for a few more seconds. ”Private,” she says, releasing him.

Gasping for air, he returns a cold stare at Isabella. ”It shouldn’t be long until the others are here,” he says after a few moments. ”We’re even got a couple State Alchemists on loan…”

Isabella snorts. ”Great, just what we need right now,” she mutters to herself.

-----------------------

They slowly trickled in, one-by-one, until her fire team was assembled. Each of them in Drachman uniforms, though all out of place in their own way. And then, there were the two State Alchemists… She kept her distance. They didn’t know how she operated. Too much open to interpretation, too much to be taken the wrong way. But the gunfire had stopped. And a lightning bolt. That was the strangest part. But it intrigued her, so…

Shaking her head, she glanced outside. There they were, one Esparian helping treat another. The gunman treating… the woman? She wasn’t quite sure of her role. Anyway, this was… Advantageous.

Using hand signals, she relayed simple orders. “The State Alchemists flank from one way, and the Private and I will flank from the opposite direction, providing a distraction. The remaining two will watch their rear, just in case. Questions? No? Great.”

Heading out one side of the building, she carefully peered past the corner of the building. Range was maybe… forty meters? If it weren’t for the snow, she could cover it quickly enough, but…

”This is going to be dangerous, Private,” she says, unslinging her Drachman assault rifle and handing it to him. ”Take this, and give me covering fire. Then we can distract them enough for the other two to make the killing blow.” The Private nods, taking the gun and readying himself.

This was the plan. This is what she had to do. Taking in a deep breath, she opens her fan and dashes across the street as fast as she can, alchemic sparks flying all around her. Skidding to a stop in an alleyway across the street, she peeks out to check on the Private’s progress. They didn’t seem to be hit, but not for his lack of trying. Hell, that’s what suppressive fire was, anyway.

Ducking back behind the corner, she pats herself down, trying to find her gloves. The sound of the Private reloading and firing again filled the air, hopefully buying the alchemists some more time. Now if only she could just…

FINALLY! Taking off her itchy Drachman gloves, she slips on her own pair. Flexing her fingers, she admired them for a moment. The alchemists should be-

”Major Galicia!” the Private shouts from across the street. ”I’m out!”

She looked at him, then peered down the street, where the alchemists were still setting up, exposed now. At least this wasn’t his fault…

The alchemists, scrambling to adapt, prepare for the attack. One starts heating up the area around him, melting the snow into water, while a second begins to transmute it into sharp shards of ice, extending towards Vito quite rapidly. Opening her fan, she waited. It was their moment to shine, not hers. She was just ready to get the hell out of there if she had to. ”They’re the big damn heroes here, anyway,” she mutters to herself.

[Guest]

A gunshot rang out towards the train station, causing the Amazonian to immediately tense up as the Cretan soldiers moved onward. Creeping through the building, she didn't bother firing at them for now, more concerned over the fact she had heard that gunshot. Were the others ok? Had they been found? Shade snarled in the distance and her legs chose her course of action for her. Leaping out a back door, she took even, quick breaths as she started down the street.....

.... And almost ran smack into a two man team of the Cretan's with that woman they called "Captain." "Ay-Ay!" She yipped, diving to roll in the snow as machine gun fire roared just over her head. Shit. Careless! Careless! The earth was crying out as blood stained its surface on the other streets, her pistol ringing out as one of the bullets buried itself into the woman's leg. At least, that sounded like a woman from her grunt. Her partner wasn't happy about that in the least. Pushing herself up onto her feet, she whistled shrilly and drew her dagger out of its sheath on her leg, knowing she was going to run out of bullets soon. She was never very good at keeping those extra clips. Again, the more she wore, the more it slowed her down. Stupid boom-boom sticks. The weapons she loved never needed to worry about reloading or jamming. Except getting stuck in the bones or muscles of their target.

These fools she faced weren't complete idiots, the man providing cover for the woman as she shifted how she lay in the snow to aim at Catalina. Carefully she lined up a couple more shots, their sound clawing at the air as another grunt followed. That woman was dead. And the man was angry. His eyes lit up with a fire, and she knew that he wanted her head on a pike. But she could not let this happen. He was between her, and her family. He threw his gun aside and drew out a knife, yelling his revenge to the sky as he charged at her. Needless to say, she was prepared. Sidestepping as he stabbed forward, her body twisted around as her foot kicked out at his legs in a sweeping motion, bringing up her black knife to block his second blow. He managed to dodge her kick, spinning about on the heels of his feet to jab downwards towards her.

But he wasn't thinking. She wasn't alone.

He hardly turned around in time to strike at the giant black panther that pounced upon him, the sheer weight enough to knock the air out of him as he faceplanted into the snow. Shade chomped down onto the mans neck and flung him this way and that, not letting go even as the body flailed. Blood sprayed everywhere, staining that pure white snow with even more blood. How much would fill the streets this day? "PIGS! SWINE! CREATURES OF EVIL! DIE! DIE! DIE!" The cry echoed, and she knew that voice far too well. Vito. Something had happened. Catalina and Shade exchanged a glance and nod, the pair breaking off in a sprint back towards that train station they had left behind. She could only imagine what she would find......

As they rounded the corner, the sheer amount of gunfire that rang out was enough to tell her just what was going on. Vito was firing all those pistols he had. Or else there were more Cretans than she-- Oh. Nope, that was camo. Not Esparians. Alchemy. Another thud. Were they all dead now? Please let them be alright. Her mind was moving a mile a minute as adrenaline raged in her veins, the jungle cat licking her hand before peeling away to ensure that the Cretan's back down on that other street had a distraction. What was she going to... find....

Her step slowed to a halt. Vito was carrying someone. Someone who was very dear to her. Someone who was now bleeding, offering her own blood to the gory battlefield, staining it with her life force. "No..." Gunshots rang out above her and she wasn't allowed to worry anymore. Action had to be taken. Casting her eyes about, her grip tightened upon the dagger in her hand, a black streak darting down an alley towards the source. Shade would take care of whoever that was. But was that everyone? She had to cover Vito and Fran. He would take care of her. She knew that. A tightening in her chest. It must be the sheer exertion she was putting on her body. Movement. Her dark eyes latched onto it and saw two figures dressed in those accursed uniforms approaching Vito. Shit! No! She was almost there, she could almost......

The shards of ice were away. Her body moved on its own.

Cold fire. Five holes. They were safe.

"Th...ank..the-*ulp* G..goddess..." The words sort of fell out in uneven strips, falling like petals towards the ground, little dots of red plitting downward after. Hard to swallow. Her knee's gave out and the tall, proud Amazonian sank into the snow, her torso a pincushion for those unnatural shards. But Vito was safe.... Fran was safe.... They would make it. Shuddering, her head bowed as she looked at what was piercing through her body, reaching a hand to them as she toppled over to the side. It was so cold here..... She didn't even feel the streams of blood that pooled about her, only that it.... it was really so cold.... Had it been this cold before? Goddess... was it her time? Cold... Darker now... They were safe.... That was all that mattered...

[Guest]

It was such hell here, so much was going on. The one male figure had spoken, his attention drawn away by someone she knew not. The voice may have sounded familiar, she wasn't sure. She couldn't worry about that right now. Double checking her pistols again, she grimaced and glanced about, she was going to need clips soon. Either that, or she'd have to get rather creative. Peeking out, she cursed in her mind as the bullets had done nothing. Jesus, how fast did that girl move?! This.... this could be a problem. But then she started to talk.

"Hello ma'am. I'm Nyx, it is nice to meet you, though it would have been nicer if we would have met elsewhere. I'm afraid I have to kill you. You see, I know you all want to hurt Hild and Aurel. But you can't do that, and I won't let you. Terribly sorry for what I have to do." A pause. Her apologies meant little to nothing to her. "Oh, and please don't trip and fall on a knife! The last person I fought one on one did that, and she died. her name was Ms. Kallie, do you know her? Tell her I'm sorry if you see her!"

Her eyebrow twitched, taking a deep breath as she darted out of cover right as Nyx began to dart about whilst firing her arrows. The deadly projectiles were freaking everywhere! It was like running on an obstacle course, and a rather dangerous one at that. Up and down, side-stepping while jumping over rubble. She didn't come out unscathed, at least six of those arrows grazing against her body. Cora raised her pistol and attempted to predict where the girl might be next before firing off four more shots. Click. Empty. Throwing the pistol away, she was left with just one now, ignoring the blood that trickled from the cuts upon her body. As she ran through the building, she drew closer and closer to Nyx, realizing the risks quite well but she had to do something. She was better with her fists anyways. She was taking a rather convoluted route to get there though, trying to be as mindful as she could about those goddamn arrows. Why didn't she bring her shotgun for this?!

Suddenly there was a screeching sound above them, a rather resounding BOOM echoing throughout the building as a shockwave of force rocked them all to the very foundations. Fire roared above them as the explosion tore through the old building, floors collapsing above them. She hit the ground rather hard, rubble crashing down around her without any knowledge of where exactly it would fall. The wind was knocked out of her, the pistol lost from her hand. Ow..... Everything ached..... No! She wasn't moving! Had to keep moving. Forcing her muscles to obey, she slowly pushed herself up to a crouch, coughing as dust and smoke filled the air. Visual-ability? Zilch. Damn. But where was Nyx?

Should she be more concerned about the fact the building was probably going to collapse? Yes. And she remembered her men. Shit. She hated conundrums! She could try to pull them out, get found by Nyx, and possibly killed. Then no one is saved. Or she could try to pull them out, succeed, and still get attacked. Shit. She could leave them to die, who knows how many remained at this point anyways. Then she'd survive and carry on their memory. That would be good. The potential of dying was constant, this was goddamn war after all! The sound of floorboards cracking reached her ears and she just moved. Breaking into a run, she bolted for any sign of outside light, clambering over rubble and bodies, the ceiling above where she had been caving in. "VIKTOR!" She shouted, coughing as the hazy air attacked her lungs. A firey section of... something, crashed to her left, forcing her to alter her course.

A moment or two later, she was outside, tripping oh so gracefully and falling right into the snow. FUCK. COLD. After the heat from inside the building, the outside conditions were such a stark contrast, she shivered rather violently. And became aware of a pain in her shoulder. Glancing downwards to it as she forced herself up, there was a lovely shard of wood stabbed in there, the adrenaline at least numbing some of the pain. Probably why she didn't even notice until now. Oh wow, she must have been grazed by more arrows than she thought. RIGHT. Nyx.

Raising her brown eyes, the young doctor looked about, reaching into her boots to pull out a combat knife. Holding it at the ready, she could hear the groans and calls of two men, her inherant nature wanting to send her back inside to save them. But... She.... They.... What..... Bugger it all. SHE HATED CONUNDRUMS!

[Nyx]

She had been doing well enough in her attacks, but Cora had the advantage of a gun over her. Nyx hated guns. No artfullness in pulling a trigger, and watching a body drop. Plus it was all too fast. Ever since the crossbow, it was all about instant gratification. honestly, Nyx saw nothing wrong with a good battle of archery. Cora ducked in and out of her hiding places, and eventually managed to make her way towards Nyx. There were a few shots fired, but Nyx managed to avoid most of them. Unfortunately, one lucky shot or two made it by her, including one near-crippling shot. She was grazed by bullets across her right shoulder, the left side of her stomach, andher left leg. But the worst of the shots hit her left wing, which normally would have been painful, but harmless. Of course, the bullet wouldn't allow that. As her wings are pretty thin, the bullet hit them, went through it, and fragmented as bullets do upon hitting a target. The only difference is that normally this happens inside something, so the fragments were instead launched in several directions, with some hitting her left arm- A BIG problem.

As is obvious, Nyx is an archer. And archers need their arms. A lot. And her left arm happened to be her drawstring arm, the hand she used to pull the arrow back. Which meant that her accuracy was getting dropped like an anvil on a cartoon umbrella. So, as birds do in the face of a gunshot, she started to take flight. She hadn't moved far though when she heard a big explosion. The blast of it forced her backwards, into a wall. HOLY CRAP! What just happened?! She then realized the Kremlin was falling apart, and began to move. It was all instinct, the same thought process of the animal she was fused with, a crane. Her only thought was escape, to flee, to fly away from the danger. She came across an injured soldier as she moved, and without looking to see his uniform, she swung her arm around his chest, pulling him up to her shoulder, not breaking pace. Adrenaline does that. She moved with grace, leaping easily from debris to debris, across the room, and managed to dive out of the room as the place went down. She landed on her face, scorch marks in her hair and on her skin, and blood still falling from her left arm. Hemera was safely at her hip, so she had both hands free, though for that moment, her left was pretty weak. She dropped the soldier in front of her, and left him there. He was an Amestrian Sergeant by the looks of it, about 20, maybe 21. 26 at best. Many soldiers would have put him out right then and there, one less to fight later, but Nyx was no harbringer of death. She checked his vitals, decided he was just knocked out, and let him be, walking away. She had to find Cora before Cora found her... Just great... AND WHAT IDIOT BLEW UP THE KREMLIN!?!?

[Tsuritsa Cooper]

WHAT!? He was sleeping through her friendly greeting!? Oh naw, that ain't bout to go unpunished.
Ini shifted her cane to let her camera see him, giving her a thermal image of him. Then, with as much force as she could muster, she started to punch him in the head repeatedly, and began smacking him in the face until he was bleeding from busted lips. Soon, he was crying, but everyone else in the airship was afraid to make a move to stop her. She stood up, and took her cane and broke it over his head as he said "OKAY MAJOR!! I'm so sorry, I'll notice you next time, I-I'll rub your feet and feed you grapes and everything, please don't hurt me anymore! WAAAAH!"

Oh yeah... She should totally do that. Daydream over. And she was still sitting patiently near Spade. She was counting to ten, in her head, as she'd figured out would help a bit. She could NOT beat the Head of Central senseless! General Masu would FLIP and probably kill her in a most unpleasant, Haris Pilton way! Cursed pop diva, spoiled heiress... Ini hated her too, just like Reila. Except everyone LOVES Reila and everyone HATES Haris Pilton... Anyways, she listened patiently to everyone important as they spoke, and noted how IGNORED she was. It made her almost cry... Except for the fact that she did not come close to tears.

Anyways, it soon came time for Spade to exit the vehicle, and she followed him out, rushing to keep up with him. Curse Tataki and his stupid orders! She hated Drachma! It was so cold, and snowy! Even the FIRE here was cold!! And the cold blurred her thermals, which aggravated her as much as Tataki's body temperature's rising made her submissive. At any rate, WHY did she have to go for a diplomatic meeting with the Xingese Emperor, when Spade could handle it HIMSELF? It's his BROTHER, for crying out loud, she didn't even need to be there! No matter...

After a bit, they got to the Kremlin, and Spade began fighting. Ini had no interest in fighting, so cried back to him, "General, I'll let you handle the combat here for now! I'll see if I can catch up before you go to meet the Emperor!" And with such, she tried to keep low as she moved, and walked a good ways off from the combat, as she saw some blurred red shapes in the distance. Three of them and then... Two? How did that happen!? She moved closer to find out. As she neared, she heard the voice of Alex. GIRLYMAN WAS HERE!? She grinned and snuck up behind him, unnoticed. As she got behind him, she delivered her most powerful kick to his Sacred Gems, before falling backwards laughing.

[Theo Chulainn]

Acra stood back as he let Shula handle the formalities. After all he was just a state alchemist and was there for pure muscle power and numbers. Maybe even canon fodder if it came to it. Spade's word echoed in his mind. Protect Shula He huffed in irritation as he rubbed his palms. The air heating up around him melting the snow slightly. Oh well if it came to it he could be the walking heater for the group. So he wasn't completely useless.

He looked up just as Reila walked forward to greet Shula properly when she slipped and fell. Right on top of the albino shorty. His eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline. He swore these things only happened in those strange cartoons from Aeurgo. He watched in mild amusement as his cheeks flushed slightly at the sight. But sadly it was over rather quickly.

A figure stepped out and he had to squint his eyes slightly. He wondered where the face was familiar to him. Then he blinked a few times as the man spoke and kissed Reila’s hand when it dawned on him. He had seen the man before at a business dinner his father held. The man was an investor in one of the family’s hotels somewhere in Creta. The man who he found a bit strange and had wondered throughout the meal if he was snorting white powder sounded as dangerous as a snake and caused his spine to tingle. Taking a step back he felt a tug on his sleeve.

Turning He was faced with a bashful Shula. “Hey, Acra? I'm not sure what your orders are but... do you think you could, um…” he blinked. Why did she seem so nervous. He wondered if she was cold. He opened his mouth to ask if she was cold but she beat him to it. “Listen, the moisture from the ice and snow here are going to really limit my fire-making, and I may well run out of fuel before this is done... So I kinda.. need to stick close to you, if I can. Otherwise I'm going to be kind of defenseless when I run out of ammo for my gun and my fire…” He smiled soflty taking her hands into his clothed ones. The Kevlar scratching against the smooth leather making a strange squeaking noise. He rubbed her hands with his thumbs in slow circles. “ Don’t worry….” For a moment he felt like the prince on his knees in front of the princess promising to slay a dragon for her. And for the brief moment he couldn’t care that Dai was kissing Reila and leaving or that Reaver was calling his nation rude while grinning like a fox with cheese to the Cretan king. Right now it was all about the girl…no woman in front of him. Leaning forward and kissing her cheek. “ My orders are to stick with you…and keep you safe.” How cheesy,he taught but for now that was all the words he needed to tell her.

[Guest]

As soon as he stepped out of the APC, the fight seemed to start. All well and good for him! His Amestrian comrades would show Mother Drachma their fighting spirit, yes?

Taking cover behind the now-useless vehicle, he felt a little light-headed. His vision was fading in-and-out. With a sigh, he relaxed himself. The bear wanted to feed, and it would be best to give it what it wants. It had been a while, anyway. It had been patient, and this was its reward.

Everything after that was a blur. Heads getting bashed in, the slug rounds from his shotgun ripping internal organs to shreds… There was a young man that gave both the bear and him the shivers, and the smell of whiskey hanging in the air. And then, there was Sasha. As always, he remembered Sasha. And for those few moments, he was happy again…

Suddenly, reality had caught back up with him. He was in the middle of an unfamiliar room, breathing heavily, the adrenaline pumping through his system. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he noticed something off. He wasn’t alone.

Whipping around, he quickly identified a Drachman soldier, then another, and then a third. This would be tricky.

Bringing his shotgun to bear, he immediately started moving. Letting off his first shot, he cursed inwardly at loading buckshot as wood splintered off of the tables and chairs. Still, he pumped and tried again, and again, and again, all while under fire himself. Soon enough, he managed to get one of the men in the face, causing him to fall to the ground, screaming in pain. Ducking behind a stone pillar, he waited until the other two finished firing. As soon as he heard their magazines hit the ground, he came back out, aiming at the second one, and squeeze the trigger, resulting in…

Nothing. ”Fuck this,” he mutters, throwing the shotgun at the man instead, hitting him square in the chest. Now, only one was left. Barreling towards the man, he leaps the last few feet, grabbing the man’s arms and biting into the man’s neck violently, his sharp teeth cutting through the flesh effortlessly. With a quick jolt, he pulls his head back, along with a good portion of the man’s neck. Standing back up, he spits it out, only mildly disgusted in himself this time. War was war, and it was this country, after all, that taught him to fight using his instincts.

After taking a few more deep breaths, he looks around, confirming that there were no other soldiers. Sounds of the battle at large echoed through the hallway, but it seemed that he could relax for now. With a grin on his face, he walks over to the second soldier, picking up his shotgun and holstering it. ”You forgot one important thing, my comrades,” he says in a serious tone. Raising his arms triumphantly and proclaiming to the heavens, he shouts, ”I am INVINCIBLE!”

Just then, something LOUD happened. The entire building shook from the power of it, the sound of metal shearing hurting his ears. And then, FIRE.

Immediately identifying the nearest exit, Viktor starts to book it from the building. Everything was heating up quickly, and he could hear parts of the ceiling collapsing in some of the rooms. ”Shit! Shit!” he exclaims, grinding to a halt as the upper levels started to collapse ahead of him, blocking his initial path out. And then…

”VIKTOR!”

Looking around frantically, he shouted back, ”DOCTOR!”

She was a smart one, for sure. Something he couldn’t say about most Drachmans. But she was in trouble.

And this doctor wasn’t going to die. Not today.

Backtracking a bit, he forces his way into a room, confronted with little more than a wall a few feet away. It seemed like… It was time.

Clenching his fists, his body armor started to fill out better, his face pushing out, hair sprouting all over his body. Taking deep breaths, he felt his body grow bigger, taller, stronger. This is what she needs. Just like Sasha when… When…

”AAAAAAAAAAH!” he shouts, barreling into – and through – the wall, pushing desks, tables, and rubble out of his way, forging ahead through the fires that littered the hallways, speeding down them on all fours, his claws digging into the marble tiles as he speed his way around corners. Through the smell of the smoke, fuel, and gunpowder, he latched onto her trail, plowing painfully through an outer wall as the Kremlin collapsed behind him, landing and rolling through the snow like a rag doll. Scuttling up to his feet, he searches around, spotting her quickly enough and bounding towards her. Sliding to a stop, he looks around, spotting a young chimera and an Amestrian soldier. He growled towards the girl before looking back at Cora.

”Doctor! Are you alright? Can you walk?” Looking back at the chimera again, he bared his teeth. He’d rather not kill one so young, but… This was war.

[Guest]

There was peacefulness to it, this empty open field outside of Moscow. The snow was untouched, pure and unchanged. Not even the animals dared to go there... but why? Then suddenly the reason came down, destroying everything calm and beautiful about this field. Then another came down, and another. Giant creatures descended upon the plain, black winged beasts of metal and fire. Intimidating sights to behold, each armed to the teeth with weapons seemingly from science fiction. That, was but the beginning of this though. As soon as these monsters landed, the cargo loaded under their bellies showed themselves, massive tanks and immense men in almost knight-like armor as black as night. With highly trained speed, the figures spread out and secured the perimeter, several others beginning to create tents. This, was the future location of the Black Templars forward base.

A lone figure walked out from a Stormhawk, clad in crimson armor much more grand then the men bustling around him. His golden colored cape blew in the wind like his short, dark blue hair, the breeze harsh and cold against his cold, exposed face. The man's midnight colored eyes scanned the now busy field, as if looking for something. Obviously he didn't however, and began walking forward, leaving huge footprints in his wake. This tall, imposing man was none other than Major General Jethro Black, leader of the Western Forces and all of Amestris. The Crimson Fist himself had arrived in Drachma; and he had brought company. One hundred and eighty well trained warriors, fighters down to the last. Armed with the latest technology, these elite soldiers had been hand picked by Jet himself to accompany into the field of battle and the plains of war. Only once had they been tested, and indeed a test it was. Fighting against the elite Royal Task Force, the best trained and equipped group of men and women in the world. Their trial by fire proved their necessity though, keeping Amestris together in its time of need. Now they were sent into the fires of war once more to fight an even deadlier foe: RIOTE and their allies. They would not fail this time, there was only victory. During the setting up of this camp, communication was lost with scout squad alpha after they had received orders to head to theif current location. Scout squad Beta had been sent to investigate...

An hour later, the camp was set up. In the center of it all was the largest tent, which currently held the sergeants and leaders of the Black Templars, including Jethro Black. "The plan is simple men," Jet began. "We break through the wall here," pointing at the holomap in front of them. "Once we get through, expect constant fighting along the streets, enemy combatants will hold up in buildings and keep us on our toes. They will be unorganized, under trained and ill equipped to fight us however, and will pose little to no threat to our travels. The resistance is going to get worse and worse as we get closer to the Kremlin. One location of note that we'll have to pass through is a small district here called Archangel,"he continued, pointing to another location on the holomap. "It's an area where heavy fighting has been happening all day, and is also where the primary communications hub is located. We've already received word that someone of unknown origin has taken it out, and at this point I don't rightly care. Once through there, it's a straight shot to the capital building. When we arrive, we are to provide armored and aerial support for the Amestrian, Cretan, and Xingese forces there. Our exit route is back where we came from. Any questions?"

Everyone either nodded in agreement or shook their heads to acknowledge the question. One spoke up however; "Sir, have we received any further word from Alpha?"

"No sergeant, we have not. Beta is en route to their last known location, and skull probes are scouring the area. We'll find them soldier, we'll find them," Jet replied, obvious concern in his voice. He looked over the table, all the men before him armed and ready for war. "You have your orders men. Move out! And may fortune be with us." The men saluted in response, each turning away from the gathering to do any last minute preparations. Captain Dramadus stood at the generals side, walking with him out of the tent. The bitter cold had no effect on these men, as a new device had just been installed recently to keep them warm in these kinds of conditions. Even for only being fall, the temperature was already in the negatives and snow covered everything in sight. That's Drachma for ya, cold as hell all year long. Jet didn't understand why anyone would want to live in such a place for any amount of time, let alone to call it a home. Such a barren wasteland, seemed pointless to him. He shrugged, knowing such thoughts would get him nowhere. "Come Captain, our chariot awaits," he said with a smirk, pointing over at the Land Raider Crusader nearby. His honor guard was already inside and awaiting his arrival, as always.

"Any speeches or anything before we go to battle my lord?" Dramadus said as they entered the tank, Jet knowing a grin was on his face. He loved battle, it was where the Captain felt at home.

"Not today brother, now is not the time for words and speeches. Now is the time for action, for war!" the Black Templar replied, hitting the side of the vehicle to let the driver know they were loaded and ready to go. "Pray that the gods have mercy on our enemies, for we shall have none!" he yelled over the comms, knowing that phrase alone was more than enough for the troops. Today was their day, not Drachma's or RIOTE's for that matter. It was the Day of the Templar, and it would be one the enemies of Amestris would not soon forget...

The Black Templars of West City hit the southern wall with the fury unbeknownst to all of mankind. None could stand in their way, all fell to their might! "Vindicator cannon, fire on my mark," Jet said over the comms as he watched the battle unfold before him from the top of the Crusader. "Mark!" With that, a resounding boom filled the air as the Vindicator tank activated its deadly weapon, a cannon capable of ripping through the toughest defenses and made for offensive assaults. In a single blast, an immense section of the wall fell into rubble, leaving a huge opening for the Western Convoy to roll through. The Black Templars had arrived in Moscow, and they were hungry for vengeance. As Jet said, little to no resistance was met on the outskirts of the city, but the deeper they got, the worse it became. Drachman 'militants', if they could be called that, continued to come from every little crevice, as if there was no end to them. Even civilians seemed to bear arms against the Marines. It did not matter however, for none could stand in their way. Most died quickly, as the immensely powerful weapons they wielded left little of their targets remaining. Those that survived only did so because they fled in terror, unable to stand against these 'things' that seemed to come from some science fiction novel. They were real though, as real as the blood they spilled on the pure white snow. The phrase 'this is almost too easy' came to mind.

About half-way to their destination however, something came through the comms. "This is acting sergeant Boros of scout squad Alpha, can anyone hear me?" It was the lost scouts!

"Boros! This is Major General Jethro Black, thank goodness you're alright. What is your location over?" Jet replied, hoping they were okay.

"We got ambushed by unknown combatants and are currently pinned down at a building at [random coordinates here]. We're taking heavy fire and need assistance."

"Don't worry brother, we'll come to you!" Jet tapped on the drivers shoulders, the signal for him to stop. The convoy slowed to a halt, men moving from their vehicles to secure the perimeter. "Captain, I need you to take command while I take the Crusader and my guard to extract the scouts. Also, inform scout squad Beta of the current situation and order them to provide sniper cover from nearby rooftops for Alpha, understood?"

"Yes my lord, your will be done," he replied, bowing his head and moving out of the Crusader. "Good luck General, and may fortune be with you."

"And with you brother," Jet replied, saluting and closing the hatch. "Let's move!" The tank lurched forward, taking a side street to head towards the pinned scouts. "Boros! I am en route to your location, and the scouts of squad Beta are as well. You will be okay!"

"Jet!" a strange voice replied. It was a woman, young by the sounds of it. How had she cut into this channel, Jet had been told it was nearly impossible, even for the technologically advance Creta. "Brother! It's me, Lily! I'm with your scouts here in the building! You have no idea how long I've been looking for you, but there you are. Thank the gods!" she continued, the voice suddenly become familiar. This voice, was that of Jet's long lost little sister...

"Lillian..." he repeated, unable to grasp the current situation. He thought she had died when they were young in the fires! Yet there she was, talking to him. It couldn't be anyone else, Jet couldn't mistake that voice, as mature as it now was. Tears began to run down Jethro's face as he finally realized he wasn't dreaming, this was real and she was alive! These tears were filled with joy and sorrow, for he had missed his baby sister. "Angel..." he mumbled, almost too quiet for her to hear. But she did. "Yes brother, I'm right here," she replied. "Lily! Thank goodness you're okay! I'm on my way, don't worry!" he replied, happiness filling his voice. "Step on it!" he exclaimed. "If she dies today, then I will hold you personally responsible! And then you won't want to see Drachma when I'm done with it..." He sighed and went to the back, nearly falling into his seat, as his knees were shaking from the mere thought of seeing her beautiful face once again. "Don't worry Lily..." he mumbled to himself. "I'm coming for you..."

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