On the roof of the building. Spade Shu Relia Dai Toss...and well lots of people

[Theo Chulainn]

As soon as they had landed on the roof Acra had landed rather ungracefully onto his behind. Sticking his head between his knees as wave after wave of nausea hit him. He groaned pulling slightly at his hair until it passed enough for him to stand. Vaguely taking in what Spade had said to him he flashed the man a thumbs up. Standing still as he tried to focus the world around him which was out of tune fuzzy explosions and shouting. The smell made him want to empty his stomach over the side and dear god he really wanted everything to just be quiet and shut up.

Her touch on his shoulder made him jump and move back from it startling nostrils flaring. He groaned as the fast movement made his head spin and everything tipped once more. He shut his eyes tight trying to correct everything. "Acra, you're bleeding." He blinked his eyes open wondering where the blood was coming from. He heard radio buzz but all of it was too out of focus as if he was underwater.

And seriously! Today couldn't give him a break as something crashed into the building making his world shake and once more he toppled rather stupidly onto his ass and back hitting his head again. He yelped girlishly and whimpered slightly. This was getting more annoying then anything. "Acra, stay with Spade! I'm going down to help with the fire!" He huffed and sat back down. Of course stay where he was and don't muck anything up. What was he...her dog? Wait...don't answer that.

[Guest]

Oh did they dance... It was such a lovely dance between the two superpowers, even if the beginning was a little shakey. Mozart wouldn't have been pleased. Though, he was a bit light for this sort of work. Ahh... now maybe some Beethoven instead. He would do lovely for this job! This new Ito was so very calm. Yes, calm calm... FUCK CALM. Takatori was reveling in the violence, inwardly smirking as he could see that despite it all, bits of shrapnel and whatnot were getting in. Oooo yes.. Bee-stings that would eventually cost over time... Hehehe, and so the danced continued. It was good to see he remained as proficient at his bladework as everyone else. The only practice he kept up with was when he had to show people what happened when you fucked with him. Or called him Taka. God how he hated that. So what if Takatori was a codename? IT MATTERED FUCKERS.

Ahhh... a tonfa. A good weapon, not his favorite. AHHHH HE HADN'T FELT THIS AWESOME IN SO LONG! Not even after those models from Esparia. Man were those some crazy chicks. Good night. Chuckling to himself, the dance continued. What lovely music accompanied them as their blades clashed, blood streaming, fire raging in the background. It was a frozen hell, and he was the chief of this level. But would Daigoro Ito delve deeper in death? Or ascend? Ohhhh how he just wanted to see this man in paaaaaain. Fucking Ito's. He made a note to mindfuck the kids a little when he got back. Patience couldn't yell at him for that now could she? It wasn't like they'd be physically harmed... Ah fuck it... she could still use that voodoo of hers. Fucking alchemists. Why the fuck were there so many in his ranks? No more. No more bastards, they'd be turned right around. Or killed. He couldn't decide which at this point.

Well well well, Dai actually had some balls. That was good to see. Least one of the Ito's still did. Hah. Elastor still owed him fucker.... Wonder how his lovely sister would respond to finding out how it was his fault her life got ruined? Ooo he wish he could SEE that!!! Mmm, but the files on her hinted at a less than desirable ending. A rather... disappointing one. Fuck siblings. Fuck everyone. No one could be trusted. Hell, he always expected a bullet in the back from his people. A pipe? Ah... an explosion. Holding up his hands in front of his face, he could care less about that. He had grown up in flames, what was this little fight to him? A deep chuckle boomed in his throat, towering over the soldier below him as smoke billowed behind him, complimented nicely by his long coat. A macabre movie set in his honor. And so his single eye flashed with glee, his grin only growing as he stared down at Dai beneath him. He'd take his time.... And his men were closing in. Just what was this man going....BOOM.

Raising an eyebrow, Takatori didn't even look, allowing one of his men to instead. "Military craft down." Came the words, telling him what he needed to know. "Reila..." Oh yes, he was rather sweet upon the Ice Queen of Briggs wasn't he? Heh... This was entertaining in itself, even as he watched him freeze his men, jumping back since that hand meant death. INSTA-DEATH. And what a shitty way to go. Pfft. Sorry bastard. Ooo.... what a change had occurred in those red eyes! It was delicious, it kept the chittering at bay. It made up for all of the fucking waiting he had to do earlier. All those factors... aaaaall converging to this moment. "This hand of mine glows with an awesome power."" What was the little alchemist going to do? And to that look of hate that he received, Takatori merely smiled as if he were smiling at some old acquaintance who made a pleasant greeting. Another man down. Pity. "It's burning grip... tells me to defeat you...Take this." He sighed, another two down, and he merely stood his ground now, watching the little man take down his little soldiers. They could be replaced. So he tapped his foot against the ground, waiting for the tantrum to pass as delicious as it was. "My love, my anger, and all of my sorrow...I'll get to the end of that later. Our fight isn't over, Takatori." And with that, Dai ran away. And you know what? God he had finally shut the fuck up. Pained monologues could get so boring.... Takatori let him. Let him go find his bonny lass and twist about in his emotions. Sheathing the long dagger, he shouldered the grenade launcher and paused, glancing to the frozen men before looking up to the abandoned building. Fuck it.

Whistling a merry little tune, he pointed the barrel upwards and fired a fresh round, watching as the grenade smashed into the front of the building. Oops. Had he done that? Naaaaah, it was some other fighter in this war. Chuckling to himself, two female guards appeared and took the grenade launcher, handing him an update on the status of everything. Ah... so Xing was finally here.... The one who had crashed into Reila's ship had been captured, and... oh so much reading. They walked away as he sighed heavily, ignoring how gunfire echoed still in that building behind him. Abandoned it was no longer. Let fresh feet stain its floor with blood. But now.... Well.... He had pretty much free reign. Sighing heavily, he was satisfied for the moment and yet... There was still a nagging in the back of his mind. More could still be done. But how would his..... compatriots take that? RIOTE wanted this city, they had its leader in their midst. "Sir-" He whipped around and almost backhanded the guard, his hand stopping inches from his face. He was in the midst of thinking dammit! "What?" He asked rather impassively, his hand lowering slowly to his side as they strolled down the empty street. Everyone was either at the Kremlin, or somewhere about town, leaving the MiW to their devices. "Elastor Ito has been reported here. He seems to be guarding Lord Dietrich. A woman is also with them." She spoke, appearing as neutral as possible but clearly she had been slightly startled.

He stopped in his step, reaching a hand into his pockets for his smokes and a lighter. *flick flick* goes the flame, and a slight crackle to follow... Inhale... Ahhhh.... Huzzah for smokes. Well fucking well... "Two Ito's in one day.... What a good fucking day it is! Coordinates?" The woman relayed the info, and off they went, picking their way through Moscow to find the lovely little bastard. It was fucking on.

[Xiao Yu]

4z81, eh? Xiao glanced back at one of the men standing in the front lines. He gestured him forward with a flick of his finger, murmuring the radio channel. With a nod the soldier returned among the lines, passing the information amongst his comrades. Then before it had barely begun, the council of war was over. Everyone had their assignments and it was time to disperse. He followed Jeu-Hee to the head of the Xingese soldiers as they formed into orderly columns to begin the trek to Moscow. He glanced down at his leading commander with the faintest hint of a smile. “Don't worry.”

The march to Moscow's perimeter was quiet, except for the steady crunch of boots hitting snow. In the distance they could hear the sounds of gun and cannon fire and see trails of smoke rising into the night sky. It seemed that Moscow was burning. But did that mean that Amestris was winning? Xiao raised him arm to stop the soldiers and turned to face them. He motioned to them, calling out so he could be heard by the entire group. “We're here, men! Split into your troops and become securing the perimeter of the city. Engage Drachman soldiers if necessary. If you spy any wounded, do what you can for them. The channel with Amestris is 4z81 as you know. Our private channel is 6n07. Go and make Xing and your Emperor proud!”

He listened as the men cheered before breaking off into their sections. As they moved away he turned back to Jeu-Hee. “We should each take off with a different group. Do you want to go left or right?” He gestured to the two sides respectively, slowly tightening his hand around the staff of his hookpak. He had no desire to bring more death to this place but he was ready if it was going to happen.

[I added a channel for the Xingese if you wanted to keep the Nanaya announcement only in the Xingese troops, Dai. I can edit it out if you want.]

[Guest]

“Don't worry.”

Oh Xiao... Jeu-Hee looked up to the Imperial Guard who was her second-in-command and she managed a bright smile even as she twisted and shivered on the inside. "Never!" She answered with a grin, trying to keep the light in her eyes even as it wanted to fade. Looking back ahead, she appeared as she normally did. Calm, mature, and the ever-present smile. It didn't matter that she could hear distant cries, the patter of gunfire, the crackling of flames as if they were right there next to her. She was realizing how unsuited she was for war. She had grown soft. This is what happens when you ended up behind a desk. But she still could feel, she still was herself. Some of the others in her program.... they had changed. And she had seen how sad that had made Dr. Alden Wong. Not her though! She didn't give in to the blood, and the depression. How could she? She had her parents to make proud! Her father that she hoped was receiving the aid he had been promised. And he had. So it was all worth it.

Seeing Xiao's movement, she also stopped in her tracks, green eyes watching him with attentiveness. “We're here, men! Split into your troops and become securing the perimeter of the city. Engage Drachman soldiers if necessary. If you spy any wounded, do what you can for them. The channel with Amestris is 4z81 as you know. Our private channel is 6n07. Go and make Xing and your Emperor proud!” Excellent, he had taken some control. Aiya... wait... what if her men didn't respect her? She wasn't appearing like a strong leader at all! She was appearing like some scaredy cat! Taking a deep breath, she had to think of this like a mission, like an operation. She wasn't some hapless diplomat. She could lead these men because she had to! Because she was expected to. Because.... even when she did her ambassadorial duties, she was aiding her people. She could do that now by being the leader Ace expected her to be.

Nodding to herself, Jeu-Hee waved her men over to her as a group, standing much taller and with more confidence as she looked up to Xiao upon his approach. “We should each take off with a different group. Do you want to go left or right?” She nodded again, a surprising hardness to those usually bubbly emerald eyes of her. "We'll take the right. Good luck Xiao. Keep in radio contact!" She then flashed him a quick smile before turning on her heel to the militants before her. "You heard him, lets get in there!" She called out, not showing how it affected her to see them part ranks to allow her through as she headed off to the right. And thus they followed their young ambassador, glancing to each other with quiet looks. She was confident in herself, she refused to disappoint her people.

So far, they met no one which was both relieving and not. They were in unfamiliar territory, and who knew what sort of military-- Gunfire rang out just in front of her, causing her to startle as she rolled off to the side. "Find cover!" She almost transformed right then and there, landing on all fours as she rolled to the side again, a dumpster in the street. The Drachman's were shouting to each other, forming up as her men returned fire. But it made her grimace. All they had were their Chu No Ku. Crapcrapcrap.... Breaking into a run, she was light on her feet as a crossbow bolt exploded amongst the rank of the Drachmans which caused some surprise. She wanted to retort in Drachman to then, but she had to resist the urge, jumping up into the air as she kicked one of the men in the throat. He stumbled backwards and she followed up with a palm to his ribs, then another and another each in rapid succession. Grabbing his wrists, her torso bent down as her leg curved over her head to hit him square in the face with a scorpion kick. He fell over with a thud into the snow as bullets whizzed by where she had been standing. Take one down, move on.

Her men were moving forward pretty steadily, two more explosive shots bursting into the ranks of the enemy. They were mindful of her placement, currently off to the one side with a sweeping kick to the man before her. Idiot. He went toppling, but as he fell he drew out a knife and slashed at her. Ok, maybe he wasn't just a poopihead. Lightly jumping back, heard a thud behind her, almost tripping right over the fresh enemy body. Dead. No, this was war. This was ok for war. This was helping!! She had to tell herself this firmly, relieved to see some others moving forward to use their martial arts as well. Aiya, another swing with the knife. Drawing out her own, she had two to his one, watching him carefully as she sidestepped some of his swipes, the sound of gunfire and crossbows merely background noise. Now it was starting to feel familiar. Rushing forward, she made a quick jab before twirling to the side, offering two more quick jabs before darting away from him. Liquid upon her gloves. She had gotten him. Suddenly someone was grabbing her from behind, lifting up the tiny girl with a cry of surprise and frustration. Stupid stupid stupid!! She hadn't been paying attention! "Commander!" A body slammed into the tall Drachman who let out a cry of pain. A.. a woman. Oh. She crumpled to the ground with Jeu-Hee in her arms, her leg twisting at an odd angle. Yeesh, not good. But her grip was loose, and so the young ambassador took the opportunity to wriggle free.

Crawling away, she brought hand down upon her neck, watching her fall still. Looking up to the man who had saved her, she smiled and sidestepped as a hand with a knife came between them. Spinning, she slammed one of her knives into his stomach, bringing it upwards in his torso before pulling through. A gurgle, then a thud. Blood was on her clothes now, taking a deep (if not shuddering) breath. Her first kill in years.... "Commander, shall we move on?" The man spoke, snapping her out of her trance. Glancing about, the Drachmans were either dead or incapacitated, turning her attention then to her men. Some casualties had been sustained, and it made her twist inwardly with pain. No no no no no! "Yes, lets go onward." She said softly, sighing heavily as they reformed ranks and moved more carefully along the street. Where was this night going to take them?

[Guest]

The world wouldn't stop spinning....forever...forever passed by. He kneeled there in the snow, in blinding agony, that shard of steel biting into his innards, feasting on his life. So dark, so cold, had it been like this moments ago? A steady stream of red warmth leaked forth, dripping off the blade of the sword embedded in his center, staining his coat. It dripped down and painted the snow a fresh coat of crimson. The blood, his blood...it was so warm. So misleadingly warm...he was losing that warmth..his body grew weaker, colder. It was hard to breath, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to move his body.

Something, someone had suddenly pressed against his back, wrapping around him. A tender embrace that softened the merciless pain. This was....."M-maris....mo" Ivanka whispered the name, his voice was fading to a whisper.....Her touch. It warmed his numbing body, she somehow distracted him from the pain. And she was safe, she wasn't hurt.....he was so glad..... if he died now, at least he could save her...."I--I love you. I--Ivanka don't go... I--I..." So she didn't hate him then? That was.....he was so happy. Ivanka smiled faintly with trembling lips. It would not have been a bad fate, to die in her place, to die in her embrace.

There was movement...the crunch of snow...as dull and faded as his senses had become, Ivanka could sense him approach, that devilish man. Was he coming to finish him off? Or was he...."IYAAAAAAAA!". A wave of despair washed over Ivanka like a chill. "Momo!" his voice was loud, desperate, harsh. It hurt to yell, but he didn't care. He couldn't lose her now. He had to protect her! He couldn't die, not yet, not until Marismo was safe, not until this spawn of evil had been wiped off the face of the earth.

Ivanka had nearly died before, ten years ago.... Before he had been helpless, but this time.......Ivanka stood, raising himself despite the pain. His body shook, his breath harsh. "Geh...AHH" The movement had shifted the blade in his gut, shifted it about, and left him coughing up blood that leaked from his lips, yet he stood still. His legs were still strong, they were mechanical, they were hard steel. He too, he was hard steel, his resolve was stronger than any metal, deeper than any wound. The pain had crept across his entire being. He her Marismo shouting...to the enemy perhaps. She was still alive, she was not lost, he wouldn't lose her, he would push this body of his until it broke. His heart pounded, struggling as more and more blood slipped away. Every fiber of his being screamed out in gut wrenching agony. The pain was unbearable, the blade in his stomach inflicted insufferable pain. But he could not pull it out, Marismo told him not to pull it out, he would die of blood loss if he did. He couldn't die yet, instead he would turn this pain upon the man one thousand fold.

"Don't..." Ivanka snarled, gasping for air. "Touch.....Her" each word was uttered in a exhalation of dying breath that escaped into the dark and frigid night air. His body trembled and burned, and froze all at once, but his unwavering stare held steady upon the Amestrian man. The world had grown dark and cold, but he could still feel Marismo's warmth, and he could still see the vivid depravity of that grinning man. As his last act for the sake of Drachma, for the sake of Marismo, for Marynia, and Zinaida...for his father...for Anya....he would kill this man. He would drag him to hell, he would not let him go unpunished for his inhumanity.

His fist clench tightly and raised up to point at the man, aiming at him easily, even with Marismo between them, as he stood over her, far taller than she. His sleeve ripped as the forearm plate ejected outwards and revealed the barrel of a compacted machine gun. The barrel lit up, the muzzle flashed violently, the steady percussion of the rapid fire bursted loudly, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets upon the Amestrian man. Slowly, steadily, he advanced forward, past Marismo, following the quick man's movements with unbreakable killing intent. His arm shook with violent recoil, spitting spent shells all across the snow as he aimed to fill his enemy with countless bullets. He relied on his speed..he would snap his legs in two. Ivanka couldn't move quickly on his own, not without killing himself, the Amestrian man knew that. But he had no need to dash at the man. He would bring that bastard to him. The grappling hook-shot emerged from its concealment in his right arm and he quickly took aim. With the steady gunfire from his left hand, he attempted to guide the Amestrian man, restrict his movements, guide him right into his line of fire....NOW! The hook-shot fired forward, intent on piercing its target, intent on digging itself into his flesh with serrated edges, ripping his organs, only to retract right back to Ivanka, the Amestrian soldier in tow, right into Ivanka's grasp.......

[Guest]

Letting out an angry aside, a new found fire dwelt within his heart. There weren't two people fighting him, not two soldiers valiantly defending their homeland, heralding an end to the ceaseless destruction caused in wanton glee. No. They were two cockroaches. They just keep scuttling about, desperate like the wretches they were. He stomped on the first large one and yet here he stood, high and proud, as if he were mighty. A disgusting deception. That other one from the dirt came about, standing her ground as well.

Shame she kicked the head away, latching unto a fence, stopped thusly... unless wait. Would be a good idea for... foot... ball... football... FOOTBALL. Perhaps when he gets back home, he should invent a sport based on kicking heads into nets! Wait, something wasn't right... should it be round ball heads? Bah, too expensive, people can be so tame these days. Suppose he'll settle for just average basketballs being kicked into nets.

"CHERTOV OSTANOVITʹ Tut zhe , priyatelʹ. Kto , chert vozʹmi, vy dumaete, chto barzhyeĭ na nashyeĭ besedy? Li eto vyglyadetʹ , kak budto ya s nim sdelali? I chto s broskomchertovski otrublennoĭ golovy na menya? Eto neproklyatyĭ Vsadnik bez golovy filʹm uzhasov ili derʹmo. ... Posmotrite , on uzhe umiral tak zabluditʹsya. i ne bespokoĭtesʹ obo mne. ya na samom dele zdesʹ net ... YA kak to, chto oni nazyvayutprizrak ili chto-to ... idut vperedi popytatʹsya ubitʹ menya, ya prosto v konechnom itoge polozhitʹchertovski pulyu mezhdu glaz Go grabezh v drugom meste ,.. vam bolʹshe ne nuzhny, zdesʹ vy chertovski bezumnoe meshok s sumasshedshim."

"Good grief, bitch, shut the fuck up already!" He scoffs in scorn.

Eyes peeled not for her, but through her, that gun pointed at him? Nikolaus merely leans right subtly, out of the gun's barrel's path pointed, his hand whips at her, yet it hadn't reached her... one may say she was out of his hand range. But there was something else, something sharp and pointy (no innuendos intended). Flung with precision right at that hand holding that pistol, a final insult made manifest in the form of the knife he wielded no longer. That she was to be disarmed potentially by what is an instrument of murder. Can he truly protect her? Can he do SOMETHING about her? Will her hands have to be stained in blood? Dramas like these can be FUN. Fun in an event when irritation is absent.

Just how many times does this wretch have to be beaten down that he no longer stands? He was so clearly wounded, so clearly near death, yet he strains himself for an artificial cause. Something unreal, something so fake. It invited that scowl which now rests on Nikolaus's face, his eyes were contemptuous.

Tensions were high, and a hesitation swelled in the man of the darkness he dons. A rare hesitation in someone so freely inconsiderate of his victim's standings. He was just taking an account of what he had at his hand. Which was nothing. His weapon was inconsiderately robbed by a mere whoremonger cockroach that just doesn't know how to die right.

The coldness brushed against his skin, that cold draft caressed his cheeks as he let out a huff of visible air from his mouth. Looking at the towering giant.

Sprung into action, he burst away from the hail of bullets in that graceful strafe marked with such finesse, away from the path of the barrel. He hadn't founded need to dodge bullets, he in fact dodged the AIMING. That man before him was a human, a bitch of flesh and machine.

The bullets were spent in waste, in vain. Without touching. They were only trailing behind...

"UUGH!" A grunt escaped his lips, tangerine flowed from his back in drips, dying the whiteness as a stinging scent fumed. Has blood been repaid finally?

Was this the final turn of the battle? The hope of finally injuring the elusive opponent? The same man whom arrogantly smiled, now holds a pained expression of disbelief?



The serrated hook ripped away and back, retracting yet...

"Checkmate."

The man of death and destruction spun, facing Ivanka with his back no longer exposed, flinging the hook piercing the jacket albeit not as deeply at that maddened and wounded cockroach of a machine-flesh melded whore. Tangerine streamed back to him, staining the snowy grounds. The said hook blunt with the jacket wrapped around.

In a moment, Nikolaus was farther away measured in several meters, missing his jacket, covering such grounds so quickly like the smug player he is. Index finger spinning. Spinning a pin. What glimpses presented on his spine if even his tunic, was no wound or even a rip across on the cloth.

"Eine Sekunde, Verschwender." He mutters in that playful tune, smiling at Ivanka, mocking him, daring him with his jovial gaze and hearty demeanor.

The moment the flamethrower nuzzle that spilled out of the jacked latched unto by the hook flashed, ensued an explosion of vastness where such machine gun restricting his movement originated from. Combustion of the scenery with an incendiary consumption that robbed the area of its life. Reduced the snow to water. Flames spread as grounded tangerine fuel spilled by the punctured flamethrower tank lit on fire. Smoke rose, fire burnt, the cold mingled with the hot air, standing tall, bending for none. A fire that was swayed naught by the wind.

"Useless useless USELESS!" The blonde Amestrian cackles, "That's what you are, an unthinking and PATHETIC robot. You cannot do ANYTHING as a human being, and you STILL can't do anything right as a mechanical whore."

[Guest]

For once in her life, Marismo was glad that she couldn't understand. What the Amestrian man was saying...she didn't want to know. The only thing she embraced was blind fury--was the will to protect, and Ivanka's slurred words. "Don't...touch her!" No... she breathed amid the fireflies in her mind--the dying rays of the living world. No... But he couldn't touch her. I'm dead. Her hand shook against the frozen metal of the gun, finger lathering the trigger in tears long fallen. I'M ALREADY DEAD. What was there to fear? For her, what was there to fear? This man. This Amestrian man with eyes of a Rhinoceros--breathing fumes of putrid hate--shouting words that pierced her soul even if she didn't understand. He sneered, sliding feet across snow in a charge. Her eyes slowly turned, her mouth opening to let out silence. It was beautiful--so beautiful as the blood gathered around the edges of the knife, collecting, collecting until the first drop fell to decorate the snow. So...the dead could feel pain? Is that what this dull, strange feeling was? It was almost unbearable--tensifying. She wanted to grip something, squeeze tightly and scream it all out until nothing was left. She wanted to, but something about the silver, the white, and the red only brought tears to her green eyes. This world was so colorful. It reminded her of the stage--of the time she missed the trapeze and broke her wrist on the chain. Dangling...she was dangling on the edge of unbearable.

Cheers...they filled her ears. Snapping her eyes open to a different scene--a place where she had been happy. It was...her life. "Leonardo," she whispered, forming words of someone she once loved, never having realized that she had now used that word--that meaningless word for the first time since that last day. Oh god...connection. She had made a connection--a tie back to the world of the living. It was too late...too late. She yanked the knife out of her hand, staring at the splash of blood that followed. Heh, she saw blood every month; it wasn't her fault guys were jealous and had to kill for it. This pain... was so dull. It wasn't even real--just an illusion. So much pain her heavy body went through--thrown through the air and caught. Nothing...but a cage for her heart--a carrier for her soul. This pain was dull. Throwing her hand to the side, she created a small wave and it crashed ashore over white crystals of sand so cold it melted perception. She could have stopped the knife. She could have so easily prevented this dull, rusty pain, but... Ivanka was standing and taking control of precipitation. His thingy was raised, hovering just over her hand, and raining hot metal. The sound pierced the silence, finally allowing sound out of her throat where it was caught in wisps of scorn. If she had stopped the knife, all Ivanka's bullets also would have stopped. They would have... less time to keep breathing.

Marismo had a feeling that she was going to disappear. Something in her flopped over, stretching like a puppy in showers of summer sunlight that felt so good until it began to burn. She blinked and felt herself moving closer to Ivanka. "Stop firing," she said, brushing sweaty pieces of blond hair off her forehead. "and stop moving, you lecherous lunkhead." She sucked in a deep breath and held out her hands just as coat-wrapped hook flew towards them. She blinked. How was that supposed hurt th-- Everything happened like it did in the movies. They really weren't lying when they filmed at 943895738975 frames a second! She saw it clearly: the burst of flame slowly growing and growing from something small and round: a grenade. She didn't stop to look forward, instead, she already had her alchemy half activated and pushed it further. Anything moving at a fast velocity was instantly stopped in the wake of a blaring song like the sounds of mosquito wings. The fire froze just feet from touching them. She felt the heat on her face, her fingertips brushing wavy-colored air. Sweat, sweat...more sweat. If she let go...if she let go for a second, they would be dead. "Get down and cover yourself in snow!" Marismo shouted over the roar of the flames. It was only a matter of time before they burned themselves out--before the snow evaporated them into nothing. But just in case, just in case, Ivanka had to make it. He had something to do; he had a dream, a goal--something she did not. He would make it, and he would accomplish it like she knew he could. No matter what it took...no matter how many lives he needed to paint across the tundra, Ivanka would make it.

She hadn't realized her eyes were pressed closed until she opened them and there was no longer an explosion hovering, looming, imposing on their existence. She smiled, let out a victorious laugh, but didn't drop her sound barrier. No, not when the Amestrian man couldn't touch them like this. She walked quickly forward, kicking up a decorative sword from the snow and catching it fluidly. This was the first time she had ever held a real sword. Prop swords, yeah, but... never...something like this. The gun was left behind, covered in her blood. The dull pain was in her other hand, hanging uselessly--throbbing thoroughly at her side. She focused on him, almost freezing him there in her mind's eye as she ran blindly, exercising muscles bruised and stretched into places normal humans could never match. Bending, twisting, she flipped into the air, her legs reaching as arms around his neck. Taking him down, the snow crunching under them, the sounds of her panting the only audible thing. Crotch in face, she crawled lower and jabbed her knees into his chest with a victorious smile. "Checkmate."

[Guest]

Small, quiet breathing flared out into the night's air as Nanaya watched over Sakuya. He was surprisingly calm, being seen by a man - his brother no less - brandishing a knife. He chuckled softly and walked forwards, watching Sakuya as he reached out with his arms in order to... no, it wasn't in surprise, it was in greeting. Oho, greetings. They were always something that he enjoyed. Greetings lead to conversation. Conversation lead to disagreement. Disagreement? Well, that lead to fighting. And everyone knows that in the end, fighting is dimmed down by death. Yes, death. That one thing that Nanaya wished upon the world, as a killer of his own caliber. Chuckling softly, the blade that was reflecting the moonlight slowly went up to his face, and a tongue ran along the edge, Nanaya feeling a tinge of pain from the sharp edge crossing his flesh, "Hey, squirt, ...how'd you get up here 'nyway?" He chuckled softly, placing the knife back at his side and changing his positioning into something a little more... straight-backed; no need to hunch, especially not before one's brother. Smirking, he started to speak again, sultry tones leaving the man's lips; a tone of voice that was sickly-sweet, and far too dissimilar to the usual demeanor of Saeji Aeries to be recognized as his own.

"Well, Sakuya. It was actually quite easy. See, all I did was... climb up the side. Quite an easy building to climb up, brother..." He chuckled softly, the look in his eyes of pure ice, "However, enough about me. How have you been, Sakuya? It's been a while, I must say. Ten years?" This was, of course, not Saeji speaking. The manufactured face of Nanaya had disappeared, being replaced with the true side, the original. He chuckled softly, not caring to hold back, before reaching up to his ear, "Hello, soldiers." His voice would be broadcasting out to each and every Xingese soldier on the battlefield. "Do you recognize my voice? This is the REAL Emperor of Xing, Nanaya Aeries, speaking. Yes, me. I have new orders for every one of you. Amestria is now our enemy. Attack them. Kill them." He chuckled once more, before suddenly stepping backwards and coughing, My body. The man knelt down and reached a hand up to his head, changing the channel to Jeu-Hee's own and speaking to her, "Jeu...Hee... Help... stop... them... ple--Times up, Saeji." The connection was broken, and Nanaya slowly stood up once more, staring at Sakuya with a grin on his lips. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here, are you not? What can I say? Is it not the duty of the older brother... to care for his younger one? Kehehehe... and it would be so good to me if you just die--GAH. SAKUYA. DON'T LISTEN TO WHAT HE SAYS! H-HELP ME, HE'S AH--Shut it, nuisance." If Spade could simply speak to Saeji, the creation of Nanaya might be able to fight back and take control once more... but it wouldn't just take that, would it?

[Xiao Yu]

Xiao watched Jeu-Hee run off with troops to the right. With a wave of a few fingers, he led his half of the troops to the left. It was quiet around his side of the perimeter. He stationed off small groups of soldiers at various intervals, ordering them to keep the perimeter secure and tend to whatever wounded they could find. They were nearing gunfire and so he had his remaining troops spread out and drop low. As they inched closer he could see some Amestrians ahead, pinned down under Drachman fire. He began to make hand signals, indicating where his troops should head to back up the Amestrian troops. Then a crackling noise came over the radio, followed by a familiarly unfamiliar voice.

“Do you recognize my voice? This is the REAL Emperor of Xing, Nanaya Aeries, speaking. Yes, me. I have new orders for every one of you. Amestria is now our enemy. Attack them. Kill them.”

Xiao's eyes widened. Who in hell was divining themselves as the Emperor? It sounded a lot like him but there was a darkness to his voice that Xiao did not like. He quickly flipped his comm to his private channel with Jeu-Hee. “Jeu-Hee, orders?!” ...Nothing. His own troops were looking at him in question while some had raised their guns to fire at the Amestrians. Shit, shit, shit. A man a few feet away from Xiao looked ready to fire. Muttering a curse he leapt up, running over and slamming his hookpak down on the soldier's hand. He flipped to the Xingese comm channel, keeping his voice clear. “Disregard those orders. That is NOT our Emperor. His channel has been compromised. I repeat, do NOT engage the Amestrian soldiers. Fall back to the rendezvous. DO NOT ENGAGE AMESTRIS.”

Xiao turned his troops that were still with him. “We are going to help out those soldiers. NOW. Get into position.” He watched as his men slowly got into position, then indicated that those with the explosive bolts fire their Chu No Ku. He watched as the explosions amidst the Drachmans caught them off-guard. He edged closer to the Amestrian soldiers and past them, flashing a scared man a grin. Then he moved out, rising his hoopak into the air. He begin to spin it, faster and faster, moving closer to the Drachmans. He could hear the whining noise increase in pitch, seeing as it effected some Drachmans close to him. His soldiers kept him protected as he lashed out, knocking two Drachmans to the ground. He broke off spinning his hookpak, moving through quickly. It felt like hours that he cleared out the enemy soldiers but when he stepped back from the final body, he noticed it had been a short amount of time. Why was war like this?

He signaled to his soldiers to come closer. “Help the Amestrians with their wounded and get to the rendezvous. We will regroup and move forward from there,” he indicated to several soliders. He then went to the Amestrians. “We're going to help you get somewhere safe.” Before any Amestrian could respond, he was gone. He began at a run towards the rendezvous, his troops close behind. As he jogged he switched to Jeu-Hee's channel. “Jeu-Hee, where are you? What is your situation? Are you alright?”

[Guest]

The man donning black hissed fiercely at such inconvenience such as the alchemy he witnessed before him. Meticulously observing the thwarting of his plans, that the fire that should have obliterated, instead, merely contained and nullified. There was no more of Hell that had touched them, no more of the shadow of death that dragged them into the ravines of the abyss itself.

Boiling within his heart was that irritation of obstacles, followed by the precipice of enthusiasm. Just how much more interesting can this get? Nikolaus, so used to eliminating obstacles, would finally have some short stop. Just that, a short stop. Spreading his legs, tensing his back, flexing those elbows of his. That explosion wavered finally and dimmed out into the tamed spark it was.

Step by step she ran the way, sprinting to him even. Slowly she paced in his perception of her, so easily readable, going her merry way towards the man of gold and black pattern. Receiving her crotch to his face well... if by well, he pretty much was pushed against the soft cushion of the snow. Feeling the weight of her knee invading his chest.

Kindly, he takes that sharp pointy end of his and inserts it into her in response, gushing out produce from such a hasty work. Plunging it in deeper within her as he overtook her position as being on top.

Seizing the initiative with a well placed thrust of his fist against her crown, promptly knocking her out, swiftly standing her up by the back of her collar gripped with one hand. Pulling out the knife he pierced her abdomen, blood being the produce, flowing out from a newly created slit. Threatening the back of her neck with the bloodied knife, obscuring himself with Marismo's unconscious body propped up as to face Ivanka, with Nikolaus behind.

"Assassins do it from behind." Nikolaus remarks with a smile, "Stand down, DOG. That's right, you obviously will obey me, obey capitalism in the end. No matter what flag you drape, you're still shit, just wrapped in silken sheet. Observe closely as she will peri--"

His eyes peeled into an irritation as a barely audible sound emits from his ears, snarling, before masking such displeasure with a smile back to Ivanka.

"Not a step closer, or she will die." The blonde leans closer to the girl's cheeks, exhaling a warm breath against her cheeks, warmth promptly brush against the skin, violating her with but an exhalation, unceremoniously leaning back, sticking out his tongue, licking off the blood from the flat end of the knife, "Ahhh, so this is what innocence tastes like eh? Bitter and salty. The same as all you filthy pigs, there is no difference. In a uniform or not, this is the equality you wanted in your Communism, given by me, to you. Generous really."

He steps back, dragging her along, "Is this really the power of Drachma? Just look at you, there was nothing you could do. Even in your moment of hope, your moment of triumph, of desperation, I still stand. HAH!"

BOOM!

A thunderous explosion resonated, announcing its presence to all. What used to be a white hump on the snow higher up top the summit was now a large Howitzer unveiled, no longer a sheet camouflaging it. Flattening an entire village from a single shot, engulfing it in flames, countless innocent lives consumed and wiped out.

"Aha! The mouth of the Emperor. What a fine beast of destruction it is. Consider this my gesture unto you, a Hell of a fuckload of explosions of a gesture to your Drachma." Another further step had Nikolaus positioned by a slope's edge, "Feel free to stop them, I have drawn out my stay long enough. Guess connections in high places CAN save lives. For now, I bid you Auf Wiedersehn~"

The Colonel slid down the slope on his soles with an unconscious Marismo slung to his shoulder. Holding out his bloodied knife as he divorced himself of this bloody battlefield.

A blur can be seen from Ivanka's cornermost, though that presence no longer there. Following behind Nikolaus, trailing in secrecy.

Not to be seen anymore by the giant Drachman. Going in his merry path towards Briggs on the road, a segment of his sleeve ripped, tied around the girl's wound.

"I hope you know what you're doing. There wasn't a point in that order... 'Corporal'." The Colonel harshly reprimands, "We could have drawn another drop of blood."

"No, that was enough. More will come, he is just performing his role, call it patriotism if you'd will." A figure of chocolate skin and crimson eyes replied, "You have done well, 'Colonel'. Soon, there will be fruition to come soon. All goes according to plan."

"Heh, I look forward to that day."

He came to a halt, Nikolaus saw before him the distinctive Xingese in quite a group... readily threatening to shoot him, rather intending to do so. The companion Nikolaus had would separate...

~One minute later~

Slit eyed bodies littered the ground, mutilated and gory, a good portion blackened, sizzling like charcoal, sliced and cut across fatally, his knife dripped in thick blood, the blonde shivered in the coldness, unscathed and shirtless, the only source of warmth he had was the girl he slung on his shoulder. Blood, not his own, stained his entire bare torso, as the only presence was a set of suspenders. Torn clothes and fire littered the battlefield as off Nikolaus goes his way. Holding two sets of pins on his index and middle finger, discarding them promptly.

An arduous journey marked with a bitter taste in his mouth, that of blood and that of the Xingese.

"Bethany... that was for you." He murmured in hate, spitting to his flank. Welcomed after a journey well spent in steps into the inviting warmth of that which is Briggs fortress.

[EXIT THREAD W/ MARISMO]

[Guest]

Onward the band went, sticking together as they patrolled the streets, finding the occasional signs of battle via scorch marks in the snow or bullet holes that had crashed through windows. Jeu-Hee gestured for them to slow down, her hands sliding to where her two knives were, biting her lower lip as she listened for the sign of languages. Her men watched her, positioning themselves so each was watching a cardinal direction about them, waiting for her command. How was she supposed to be handling this anyways? Should she have been leaving men at points along the way? Or should they stick together? It was too late now to go back the way they had come, and risky as well. After all, it was entirely possible that more Drachmans had reclaimed the spot that they had been at before, and that was hardly ideal.

But now what was ahead?

Creeping slowly around the corner, she concluded this must have been a residential street for cars still lined the street. Slipping forward as carefully as possible, she could see the militants waaaaaay up the street, ducking behind a black sudan after black sudan till she had gotten close enough to make out voices. Wow, the Drachman's must really like black sudans! There were just so many.... Right. Identifying the soldiers. Her men had followed after, also ducking behind the various black cars while waiting for more specific orders from her. Their words were too harsh for Drachman.... Amestrian. Yay! They had found Amestrian's! She wanted to pop up right then and there, but if you were a unit and some young girl came running up towards you out of nowhere, what would you do? Not respond in the best of ways she figured. And she couldn't have that.

Ok, she had to be careful of this. Pushing herself up, she was about to take a step out onto the street when the radio crackled to life in her ear. "Hello, soldiers." S..Saeji? No, that wasn't Saeji, his voice was different! But... but it did sound sorta similar to him.... Who was-- "Do you recognize my voice? This is the REAL Emperor of Xing, Nanaya Aeries, speaking. Yes, me. I have new orders for every one of you. Amestria is now our enemy. Attack them. Kill them." Immediately, she froze in place, staring fixedly upon the ground before her. Then her eyes raised to the Amestrians before them. Her men had grown tense, and all she could hear in her head was Amestris is now our enemy. Attack them. Kill them. K...kill....? B-but why... Why did they... Wh-Who was Nanaya? Why did he share a last name with Saeji and Sakuya? Why did he sound similar to Saeji? Wh..what was.... Kill...

"Jeu...Hee..." Her name! That was her Emperors voice! "Help... stop... them... ple--" St-stop? "Times up, Saeji." "S..Saeji...?" Her voice squeaked, some of her men already positioning their Chu No Ku to fire, but she didn't even notice. “Jeu-Hee, orders?!” "Commander..." Voices... It was all background noise. "Attack them. Kill them." Help... stop... them... ple-" “Disregard those orders. That is NOT our Emperor. His channel has been compromised. I repeat, do NOT engage the Amestrian soldiers. Fall back to the rendezvous. DO NOT ENGAGE AMESTRIS.” So many voices....

Fwip. . . . Kla-Boom!

The shot had been made. A bolt exploded amongst their allies before them. "Attack!" Gasping, the young ambassador was startled back to the present as someone shook her shoulder, causing to whirl about as bullets and bolts began to fly. "Commander! Our orders!" The man cried to her, begging for her to please lead. And it was then she realized, tears were streaming down her face. Men were dying because of her inaction, she had let them attack their allies! Ayden... Oh Ayden.... Tuning her radio to their private channel, she found herself still holding a hand up in the air. "NO STOP! DON'T ATTACK-" She let out a shriek as she was thrown to the snow covered pavement, the car across the street from them exploding into flames, her men getting thrown backwards by the force of it. Choking back a sob, her ears were ringing, dazed as her shoulder was shaken again. "Hold fire!"

The bolts stopped, but the bullets still lasted for another moment. More of her men were torn apart. "AMESTRIANS HOLD FIRE! PLEASE!" She implored of their enemy-allies, hearing a response but she knew not how they took it. But more bullets rang out, yet it wasn't Amestrian's. The Drachmans had arrived even further up the street behind the Amestrians who were now so focused on the Xingese soldiers. They shouted and leaped into action, leaving her men caught in an awkward position. "Offer support! Return fire on the Drachmans!" She screeched, her voice shaky from trying her best to hold back sobs. “Jeu-Hee, where are you? What is your situation? Are you alright?” Xiao.... She had to stay strong, no don't.. don't you dare break down! Where was her smile? Why couldn't she summon up a front now? Choking back another sob, she cast her green eyes towards her men perching behind their cover, any idea of what should be going on lost. Just point and shoot. She was failing her men... "Xiao... We..We're pinned down... Amestrians and Drachmans... Xiao... we fired at them... Someone took a shot. I.. I didn't react... " Overwhelming were the emotions in her throat, covering her ears as another car by the Amestrians exploded. She had to do SOMETHING.

So she did. In a spur of the moment decision, she didn't care about appearances. She didn't care if her people would judge her for this. She just... God... There was too much... Off came her headgear, her goggles, tugging at her uniform as a tail extended from the lowest part of her spine. Red fur covered her, ears extending from her head as her black hair changed to red. A snout grew from her nose and lips, hearing the gasp from the man next to her. Pulling her gloves off, she looked at her claws and narrowed her emerald eyes as the trails of her tears still wet her fur. Saeji... Ayden... Xiao... Anyone... What was she supposed to do? Tearing off from behind the car, she could feel her greater strength in her legs, pushing her farther and faster towards the Drachmans that were so far away. She darted through the Amestrians, avoiding bullets as her arms pumped at her sides. And with that, she drew out two pistols and fired, rolling right into the enemies midst.

"Ne mojet buit! Chto-" He didn't get to finish his sentence as the butt of her pistol jabbed him in the throat. "I'm sorry..." She was a flurry of motion, kicks and punches interrupted by bullets, her heightened senses and years of training truly beginning to show. She was the peace-loving Ambassador that her people adored (and question), but she had been trained as a killer first.

[Spotlight]

"Do you honestly expect ME to go undercover? Alex, not even Johnson could have made me get undercover, and he tried way harder than this! I can't fight in the enemy's clothing, never ever. Nuh uh. GET DOWN ALEX! GET DOWN JULIO! There be some commies in this joint! DIE YOU VODKA-GUZZLING EVIL WORSHIPPERS!! In the name of Amestris, I SMITE thee!" He had seen Julio Duck down as the drachmans took this time to find his nighthawk which had landed for some unknown reason. He turned as he heard the Turbines begin to run. He would destroy it if he had too but then Jay jumped on board and got control. He jumped on as well staying on the wings as she drove. The drachman's had added a little holder for their shoes on the wing which allowed them to fight while in the air. he took the rifle from around his waist and fired off a few rounds at those that were firing at him."NO PLANE SHALL BE STOLEN TODAY! THOU SHALT NOT FLY!!" as Jay crashed the plane she hit a power line whick caused the battery to explode along with the Drachman's power. after that happened a short wave emp came and if they had any knocked out communicatrions. He followed Jay to the tank hopped on and grabbed Julio as they passed him. Jay got her Tank Alex was getting a few more Jet's. Julio was getting a big heap of nothing. a rather productive day in his mind.

[Guest]

"...eh?" The man wriggled himself out of her grip and slid backwards, the woman turning around to see him and growling softly. He was alright, it seemed. That was actually good for her, it meant that she did not need to be seen by his commanders. In fact, she could quite possibly leave no--"Don't move. You may not know what those circles can do, so I'll tell you just this once. Take one more step and I'll detonate them. You do know what detonate means?" She growled as she felt a strange tingling in her skin. She pulled up one of her sleeves with a gauntlet-covered hand and grit her teeth. That was not good. That was an Alchemic circle. Turning her gaze back to Ten, she shook her head and sighed softly, "This is how you repay my kindness? Dishonorable cur." I bet you're wondering where they came from. That I won't tell you, but I will spare you. Stay right there, and come see me in the future if you want those removed..." And with that, the man ran off. Stay right here, but see him later? Normally, she would kill one such as him, however he held the power to simply end her life, did he not? Shaking her head, Sablya turned away and looked over into the distance, watching the goings-on at the mountain ranges. She could not see what was going on, however she knew that something was amiss. Suddenly, her hand went to a small radio that she carried on her, and she raised it to her ear, immediately calling upon the channel that Ivanka had carried. She had heard that he was heading that way, and yet... static. N-no...

Lowering her head slightly, Sablya tightened her grip on the Excalibur at her hip. It was the duty of a King to protect her people, and it was the duty of a knight to protect her leader. But... she had to protect Ivanka. Growling and condemning her foolishness, Sablya suddenly broke out into a sprint, and showed exactly why she was so fast along the lord's flat earth. Looking left and right as she ran, her footsteps eventually slowed at the advent of the vehicle. She had been trained in riding whatever she could attempt to, so this vehicle would be enough. A single kick, and the crumpled door allowed her access, the woman clambering into the steel coffin. She took her seat, and then blinked. No key in there. Ugh. Clambering out again, Sablya could only look over at that distance and sigh. Would anybody be able to get through to there? She was unsure of that much. And then... an explosion rocked through the air, the woman looking over in order to see a pair of ships colliding in midair. Shouting out, Sablya ran for that, now. She didn't care about sides in this war anymore; she only wanted to protect those in need. The Kremlin had fallen, and because of that soldiers were running away from the building. No, they weren't just running... they had lost all morale. She was abuot to continue onwards, when a loud voice shouted at her from behind, "Sergeant Pendragon!" Hm? The woman turned around, seeing a man shouting at her from a vehicle, of sorts. Strange, was that...? "Ah, Private Nemov." He saluted, and the beckoned her to get in. "No time for formalities, ma'am. We must hurry to Arkhangelskoye. Please, get in. I will explain on the way." Blinking, Sablya complied, getting into the vehicle as it began to scream off. He was driving at least 150 kph already. Probably wouldn't stop at that speed, either...

TEN MINUTES LATER::(a couple of minutes before Nikolaus leaves)

He had explained it in the vehicle already, and they had made the twenty kilometres to Arkhangelskoye with record time to spare. Gritting her teeth lightly, she had to rethink everything that she had to think about. That man's name as Isaak Nemov, one of the Privates that guarded Arkhangelskoye. He had been asked to guard a Cretan woman who had been causing destruction; she tied him up and escaped. It had taken him a while, but he had managed to break free, and after seeing the damage being caused, taken a vehicle and rushed off to find whoever he could. Sablya was the first that he'd seen, so he'd asked her to come along. With that, she stepped out and looked over at the summit of Mertvyi. So, that was where they were, huh? Yes, the burning artillery and death upon that mountain were obvious. "Let me be at peace, Great Ones." Pushing off of the ground, Sablya suddenly started sprinting, her dress not getting in the way of her feet as she did so. Unlike most humans, she had a very high rate of movement speed over land; this would assist her in reaching Ivanka... and Marismo. "That poor girl, Marismo." Her feet pounded into the earth as she started to scale the side of the mountain at full speed. She would make it, she would make it, SHE WOULD MAKE IT!

Blasting up the side of the mountain, it didn't take her long to actually reach the summit of this place; for it was a relatively small mountain compared to the rest. As she ran up here, she saw death at every corner, the mountain slowly becoming a hill of bodies, a hill of blades, and it all came back to her. A hill of swords; Mordred taking her only safety, and felling her. This was translated into more and more running for Sablya. She had to finish this. She had to... save Ivanka... and Mo.mo... "MARISMO!" A blonde soldier, taking her away. No. Taking her away. Don't take her away. Leave her here. Sablya cared about everyone here, even if she didn't admit it. She couldn't admit it, she had to be a knight... Tears lined her eyes. What was this? Sadness? Anguish? These were human feelings? She was no human... once she drew the sword out of the stone, she was no longer human. Even now, she was not human. "MARISMONOCOMEBACK!" Closing her eyes, she couldn't bear to watch. That young girl was being taken away from Drachma, and from the care of this ever-watchful knight...

"Marismo..." The metallic sounds of her blade being drawn from it's sheath resounded out from where she was. Falling to her knees, the tip of the golden sword was thrust into the ground, and she closed her eyes, sobbing lightly. She was not allowed to feel this, but she did so anyway. This was wrong. We cannot feel this. This isn't right... why was... why did she feel such anguish over the loss of his girl? "Marismo... don't leave me alone..." So cold...

Drachma was always so cold...

[Guest]

These results were… were…

”Infuriating,” he grumbles, his hand clenching into a fist. A scan of the entire region, and little more could be determined other than that the Kremlin had collapsed. ”I want you to bring up the map along the Creta-Drachma border, and give me a list of our units and where they’re deployed. Now. And Major Jensen?” he says over the radio. ”We’ll be leaving in five minutes. Give the signal.”

Two honks echo out into the distance along the highway, signaling the Royal Guards to get ready to move out.

”Now, Lieutenant, patch me in with the high command…”

~~~~~~

The APCs screeched down the Drachman roadways, entering Moscow in no time at all. Dietrich sat across Csilla and Elastor in the middle APC, silently pondering over the situation. If Drachma had fallen so easily, who would be next? RIOTE’s next target? Surely, they wouldn’t be as stupid as screw things up here and now. They had blown up an entire country without anyone catching onto their intentions, which was quite a feat. Their actions have dragged him into an active warzone, made him vulnerable. He was acting… rashly.

Glancing over at Csilla, he noted how she held her rifle. Not like Elastor, Vivian, Blingworthy, or Sullivan… Curious.

”You wouldn’t happen to be one of Amestris’ many alchemists, would you?” he asks. ”That, or you’re a pacifist militant, which I presume was bound to occur eventually. Call me old fashioned, but I believe alchemists are a force of creation, not destruction. An alchemist protecting me is still a foreign concept to me. Hence, the rifle.”

The sounds of the battle grow louder, seeping into the interior of the APC.

”Now, I think I can safely assume you’ve never worked with the Royal Guards before, so I’ll give you fair warning: we hit the ground running. The men around you have no margin for error, because that’s how they were trained. Their job is to protect me, and assist any Amestrian or Xingese forces in the area. Your job, however, is to stick close to either myself or Elastor, and protect yourself with whatever means you have at your disposal. Beyond that, I’m confident you can keep up with us. Amestris has the habit of producing rather effective alchemists, after all.”

An explosion rocks the APC, causing Dietrich to grab a handhold for stability. Above them, the chain gun starts firing in quick bursts, some of the cascading onto the roof before rolling off the side.

”I want Cravetz, Thum, and Florence on me at all times. Elastor, you know what to do. Everyone, check your equipment and make sure you’re not forgetting anything.”

With the vehicle grinding to a halt, Dietrich moves his right hand from his forehead to his sternum, then shoulder to shoulder. ”Pray to whatever god you want for safety. And be safe.”

After a moment of silence, the rear hatch drops unceremoniously. The Royal Guards leap into action, leaving the relative safety of the armored vehicle and entering the intensifying battle outside of the Kremlin ruins. Exiting the vehicle last, Dietrich slides the blade out of the cane, tossing the wooden sheath back into the APC. With his three assigned guards forming up around him, he motions for everyone to spread out. He had an ex-Furher to hunt, and allies to support.

[Guest]

No one rode on his back. Except the Doctor… And Sasha. Then again, the same could be said about hugging him around his neck… Ah, Sasha…

Pulled back into reality by the helicopter crash, he instinctively started turning towards it. Moving through the back alleys to get there faster, he slows down to a halt, and starts following Cora as she follows the trail of blood and footprints. Watching as she walks inside a store, he paces around outside, pondering whether to follow her. He didn’t like being exposed like this… Then again, they could probably see him clearly through the windows.

Slowly padding his way into the store on all fours, he sniffs the air. Besides the normal for the situation – smoke, gasoline, gunpowder, and blood – he smelled some curious things. The man smells faintly of... whiskey? The same brand that the one man by the Kremlin smelled of. And the woman…

”Now see, Doctor, THAT is the smell of arousal!” he grins. ”So do not try and fool me like that again.”

Still looking proud of himself, his attention turns back towards the woman. ”And what do we have here, then?” He approaches her, sniffing her more intently. ”A Cretan? Interesting… I did not expect to run into one of you here.”

Looking at the blood forming on the floor around her, he sighed. ”Not to rush, but I wouldn’t take too long with him. She could pass out any minute here.”

[Xiao Yu]

Xiao continued to run with his troops, glad to see that many had followed his orders and were not at the points he had originally stationed them. He was close to the rendezvous when he stopped suddenly. He raised his nose to the air, taking a light sniff. Fire. Burning... burning flesh? With a muttered curse he ordered his troops to remain where they were as he ran on ahead. He hadn't gone too far when he came upon it. “Oh fuck...” Xingese bodies... well, body parts were strewn about. This had been one of his first groups he had left to secure their area. What had they come across that could've done this to them? Xiao felt his stomach grumble in protest to the disgusting scene before him. With steadfast determination, he willed the naseuous sensation to dissipate. Now was NOT the time to fall apart. Then he heard Jeu-Hee over the radio. "Xiao... We..We're pinned down... Amestrians and Drachmans... Xiao... we fired at them... Someone took a shot. I.. I didn't react... "

His eyes widened in alarm at the words that came over the radio in the form of Jeu-Hee's trembling voice. “I'm going to gather the rest of my troops and move to your location. I think perhaps now it's best we stay together. We'll be there soon.” He whispered a soft prayer to his fallen comrades before returning to his troops that were still living. They eyed him with curiosity and a little bit of fear, but he did not give them the explanation they wanted. “We're going to loop around this area. We need to meet with the rest then move on to back up Commander Han.” Turning around, he began off at a jog again. Soon he arrived at the rendezvous. The rest of the troops remained, although there were clearly absenses. “Troops, we've sustained some losses already. But such is war. Commander Han needs our help. You five,” he pointed to a group that came in with the Amestrians “Gather the wounded and get them back to the airship. The rest of you with me.” Silently his troops moved off again, heading towards the right side of the city where he could hear the gunfire of battle nearby. He only hoped that they would arrive in time before everyone there was destroyed in the three-sided battle.

[Csilla Angelis]

Dietrich came into the APC, sitting near her and before she knew it, they were off towards battle. She looked down at her rifle, trying to keep steady deep breaths from turning into short breaths of panic. The sounds of war were going closer; she could only guess they were moving into Moscow. Ugh. Glancing up, she realized that Dietrich was speaking to her again.

“You wouldn’t happen to be one of Amestris’ many alchemists, would you? That, or you’re a pacifist militant, which I presume was bound to occur eventually. Call me old fashioned, but I believe alchemists are a force of creation, not destruction. An alchemist protecting me is still a foreign concept to me. Hence, the rifle. Now, I think I can safely assume you’ve never worked with the Royal Guards before, so I’ll give you fair warning: we hit the ground running. The men around you have no margin for error, because that’s how they were trained. Their job is to protect me, and assist any Amestrian or Xingese forces in the area. Your job, however, is to stick close to either myself or Elastor, and protect yourself with whatever means you have at your disposal. Beyond that, I’m confident you can keep up with us. Amestris has the habit of producing rather effective alchemists, after all.”

She could only nod when he asked about alchemy. She could barely get out why she had been asked to help protect him before he had continued. It almost seemed Dietrich enjoyed the sound of his own voice. “I'm a defensive militant sir, and my alchemy reflects that. I can manipulate li-” Her sentence was cut off as an explosion rocked the APC. With a small yelp she swayed but managed to keep her seat. Then they were stationary and Dietrich was speaking again.

“I want Cravetz, Thum, and Florence on me at all times. Elastor, you know what to do. Everyone, check your equipment and make sure you’re not forgetting anything. Pray to whatever god you want for safety. And be safe.”

The rear hatch dropped and Dietrich leapt out, followed by the three guards he had assigned to himself. Elastor looked ready to leap into battle as well. Without realizing why, she grabbed onto his arm, tugging at him to remain in the APC. She felt herself shaking. He was angry at her for whatever reason, but she couldn't go into battle angry with him. It would distract her and she didn't want to risk anyone's life because she was having a tiff with someone. After the last Cretan had left the APC, she looked at Elastor. “Look. I don't want either of us to get into trouble. No one on my end knew I was in Creta and somehow I doubt anyone on your end knows either. This isn't the time or place to be apologizing and I hate to say that 'I'm sorry' isn't exactly acceptable. You hurt me. A lot. But let's just make it through this thing and I'll listen.” She reached down and squeezed his hand before getting out of the APC quickly. She knew she had to stay with him but for now, she needed a moment to breath. “Hermes, give us your swift feet and luck. Ares, give us your strong arm. Athena, give us your shield.” She whispered quietly as guns went off all around her. She clutched at her locket through her layers for a moment. Then she flipped open the palms of her gloves, letting the cold air burn into her tattoos. She waited patiently for Elastor could emerge. Dietrich said that Elastor knew what to do, so she was ready to follow.

[Guest]

Ugh... his view was fading in and out with each beat of his heart; each breath that left his lips. He grit his teeth slightly, pushing himself up against the wall as he did so, looking into the distance, watching each breath spread out before him. He chuckled softly, wondering how this pain wasn't stopping him from moving. This world around him... he laughed. He loved it. This place may have been cold, unforgiving, but it was a place that he could relate to. It was empty, devoid of life. But... was he going to die here? He was, wasn't he? No, he couldn't let himself do that. No, it was impossible for him to die right now. Death... that was something he couldn't allow to happen. He didn't know enough, he was scared. Yes, this man was scared of that unknown. He was scared of everything he didn't know, and his raspy breathing made his throat hurt with each intake. Would he stop breathing, though? No. He wouldn't let that stop him from breathing. Instead, he would allow it to remind him that he was alive; for if his mind and body succumbed to the cold, he would simply die painlessly... Though would that be so bad? There was a foreign beauty at his side. He had to turn his head slightly to look at her, and even though his eyes were focusing and defocusing at the same time, he could still make out the shape of her body though the armor; the features that lined his face. And so he could still smile. He could... die happily, if he had to die... "Yes, you did fine Major Rajan. Not everyone can say they jumped out of a helicopter and survived. But you are going to last the night, I promise you." Heh. She was right, wasn't she? He'd jumped out of that chopper... up in the sky...

"Dr. Cora Nikita of Fort Briggs, please let me assist." Not like he could resist now, could he? No, he was here, helpless, on the ground. People were doting over him, and he felt like he had to repay that kindness somehow. This Vivian woman was cute, maybe he could take her on a date? Heh, that'd be the day. Knowing his luck, she'd be taken. Probably happily married, with children. The beautiful ones were always taken. He chuckled and coughed out, feeling a sharp burst of pain through his chest as he did so. "Captain Vivian Duchamp of the Royal Guards and Crown Alchemists under Lord Dietrich. Please, attend to Major Rajan first." His ears perked up at that. N-no... she couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let that happen. His body was only in shock; he would survive a lot longer. She... she needed the assistance. Shaking his head slightly, he addressed Cora himself, letting pained words rasp out between his teeth, "S...State Alchemist... Apos Rajan... Central. D-deal with Vi... first." He hadn't missed out the end of her name... that was on purpose. For some reason, he felt that he should at least refer to her casually. She had saved him, and she deserved as such. Though, if she didn't like it, then he knew what to do. ”Now see, Doctor, THAT is the smell of возбуждение! So do not try and fool me like that again.” A Drachman voice... Speaking between Amestrian and Drachman; Apos chuckled.

"G-good to see you both... jes' get her outta the way. She's bleedin', I'm only in shock. I can last longer without treatment." He nodded slowly, trying not to show the strain on his face from doing that simple action. Every part of his body was in pain, and he was attempting to relish this. Most men would've fainted from this feeling, however he was making sure that he felt every iota of it. Pain, pain. That was what he felt. Pain was the reason that he kept going, as it reminded him of the fact that he was alive, and that he would continue to be alive. He was a survivor, and so he would survive. Chuckling, Apos shifted his body slightly and placed a hand onto the ground, making sure that he was properly comfortable. "Keh... hurtss..." Words were filtered through teeth, and he felt his mind stumbling through the woods. Yes, through the woods. Just like those woods around Heissgart, where he was trying to find his way. Leaving his home, going to a new place. It was strange, for him. This was a place he'd never been before, and he'd survived that before. His tongue snaked out and licked his lip, and he closed his eyes slightly in order to let everything happen. If they wished to speak to him, they were welcome to let him know.

[Elastor Ito]

"Elastor, you know what to do." He nodded once and watched as various equipped men literally hit the ground running. The APC's barely stopped to let the King himself off without having to stumble slightly with the impact. However, Ela noted that Dietrich barely even twitched when the snow ate at his ankles in the speed with which the vehicles trekked on. It was admirable really. As the stereotype goes, most leaders weren't capable of anything on their own. Their King didn't exactly fit the assumptions. If he did, Ela was sure that he wouldn't be following him let alone risking his life to protect him.

Black boots hit the floor as he threw himself to his feet and took a few short steps to the door where at any moment he was to leap out of after Dietrich, but something stopped him. At first, shock gripped him. Our location has been found out!? Thinking it was RIOTE, he spun around, sword half unsheathed before he saw that it was the blond half breed he knew too well. Scoffing he let the blade fall back into its non-threatening position with a metallic click. Icy blue eyes narrowed is a frosty why-are-you-stopping-me stare. "Look." He nearly jumped, feeling his heart clench behind his ribs, and the oxygen become somehow thinner in the dormant vehicle. He did just that, he looked. He looked directly at her for the first time in what seemed like a past life. He saw her brown eyes and saw that despite what she was saying, she too was serious--she too...was hurt. Hurt? Ela breathed again, lightly, silently, and felt that maybe he had come to a realization. What she had said before...hurt. Him? He blinked, surprising himself with the bewildered expression he felt on his face. His sister and now her were the only ones who could dig out his emotions like this. ...Burried, unnecessary feelings he had thrown away a long time ago. They were there...now. And all he did was look.

"'I'm sorry' isn't exactly acceptable. ... I'll listen." It hurt. It was unbearable hearing that. Not enough? Always reaching short of understanding another person... Was that why he didn't bother anymore? Why was he caring now? It was useless. But it was too unacceptable to leave alone. He grit his teeth together as if it would somehow make his mind stop skidding out. The smell of burning rubber filled the air, nearly making his eyes water in some complicated feeling. He was stuck...here in the burning house filled with laughing flames, smelling of death and the end of any plausible happiness. Why... could he never leave here? He turned composed to the wall of the ACP, took a deep breath, and then turned back to the blond without a word. He watched her for another second, noticing how she was bridging on shaking--how fearful her body language was. He reached out a hand and took hers, a half-smirk on his lips. "Let's go."

Into the sheets of white they jumped, listening to the roar of the engine tumbling away through the milliseconds in mid air. A hard, dead sound came from their feet and suddenly swirls of death were all around: moans, gunfire, bursts of light and fire over snow. He gripped her hand tighter without realizing it and then suddenly let go, looking to the side as if he hadn't even realized they were connected for that brief time. He sighed, visable breath entering smoke-filled air and traveling the short distance to Diet--

SHICKBOOOOOOOOOOM!

He was now in front of Csilla, katana unsheathed, eyes looking for his King through the shrouds of smoke. Dammit, barely getting the thought across--cutting through air that swirled around the blade. Too dark. Dark. Eyes flitted to the side where he knew she still was, unharmed. Unharmed...Dietrich. "Light, use it!" He bellowed, voice scratchy from something he didn't think about. No time. Something had exploded in between him and Dietrich. He had to fulfill his duty and protect him. Protect...what did that even mean. He was failing. Was it because Csi stopped him before he got out? No. Something el--

There was something--someone there--a shadow. It was a shadow that he knew--an evil festering through the shadow that was being chased away by light--Csilla's light. He nearly turned to see her, but he was seeing someone else. Right now, the man--the creature before him. His blood rose up like waves crashing into jagged rocks, boiling, seething--he knew nothing but this one word as he ran blindly toward the man that killed his family--toward death--toward revenge. "TAKATORIIIIIIIIIIIIIII,
DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

[Spade Aeries]

"Stop it! You'll bleed to death." A hand without thought gripped his brother's wrist that held the knife to his mouth, slicing a thin line over his tongue. Hfgiuagfaif, that had to sting. What the fuck was wrong with his brother, anyway? Calling him Sakuya? What the fuck!? Was licking knives a new thing now--a fad in Xing or some shit?

Shu was gone. Spade visibly frowned and shot Acra a disappointed, disapproving look as the sky reflected stars in his aviators. "Acra," he barked in his commanding tone that the laid-back-idiot hardly ever personally used, "what are your orders? You are employed by me, remember?" What was with this mission and him having to remind his men that they answered to him and not Shula Brighton. Godz, well, at least she was popular...kinda/sorta/maybe. "Go after her."--A cold, disconnected order. Spade hardly realized the tone of voice he used or the spew of emotions that were writhing inside of him. He turned back to Ace with a nasty look.

"Ten years? Are you high? I saw your ass at that stripper bar that that fool Tataki took you to. Disregarding the fact that you looked like a fucking--what's the word--zombie from a fucking horror film crawling up that building, you're licking a fucking knife. What the fuck is wrong with you, Ace, huh?" He leaned in closer and whispered. "Have you finally hit puberty?" He stepped back with a wiry grin. "Sorry to say, but that shit's not going to get you an in with the gir--"

"Hello, soldiers. Do you recognize my voice? This is the REAL Emperor of Xing, Nanaya Aeries, speaking. Yes, me. I have new orders for every one of you. Amestria is now our enemy. Attack them. Kill them." Kill them. Nanaya? Who the fuck was Nanaya? Ahhhhjesus! Spade rubbed his forehead, dodging the sunglasses on top of his head with lengthy digits. Now his brother was a nutcase? Come on, world, throw me another! Fucking UGH. "...so good to me if you just die--GAH. SAKUYA. DON'T LISTEN TO WHAT HE SAYS! H-HELP ME, HE'S AH--"

This was better than Saturday night live. He waved him on. "No, no keep going. I want to see you walk all over me some more. That is...if you think you're capable." Spade felt himself laugh maliciously, leaning forward with a hand on his hip while the other continued to hang there with blood dripping down his long fingers. He lifted his own radio to his lips, switching frequencies to Xing with the simple touch of a button. Sometimes he loved technology, sometimes he hated it. He couldn't quite decide now. "'ello Xingese Militants. You're probably confused as shit right now, but let me relieve your stress, seeing as hot coco doesn't seem to be served in the middle of a war zone. This is Sakuya Aeries speaking. Yeah, I'm sure you heard all sorts of rumors. Like maybe that I'm the initial heir to the throne or something? So technically my orders must also be taken into account. Furthermore, let me mention that... uh no, you're not switching sides. Finish strangling your enemy and discreetly go back to whatever you were doing before my kid brother decided to lose his mind. Over and out." Hopefully, that would take care of things. Now... He turned back to Ace and sighed, running a hand through his cold, sweaty bangs.

Spade cracked his neck briefly and stared his fiercely in the eye. Using the same hand that had gripped his wrist just moments ago, he punched him hard in the jaw. "Get a fucking grip, Ace. We're not playing battleship anymore; these are human lives at stake here!" Good way to brush up on his Xingese, eh?


[Note: Olive is Xingese for Spade in this mission]

[Aurelius Schwartz]

“Well you did it, guess I do underestimate you Aurelius.”

Head turned slowly, frazzled strands of black tickling his cheek as they veiled dulled eyes no longer in the present. So many voices--so many cries of the sinned galling out from the linty refuse of his pocket. Contain them...the final step...to keep them there. His fingertips itched--the sounds of claws digging through chalkboards. He hissed, slits of color no longer present as eyes shut tightly, squeezing out the white noise. Static roared through his mind. Silence was what he demanded. Fingers trailing along his cheek that weren't his nor those of the souls put to the opposite of the grave. Red and blue shot open, focusing listlessly on the mishmash of human and beast knelt before him like an offering to a god. It was befit no one. He felt himself smile, hardly knowing what he was doing as his lips met warm flesh, pulsing with life and all that was Surealis. But did he not know that for Aurel, something like ego did not exist? An act to prolong his own life, to him, meant nothing. If he could choose, he would have let go--would have also become one with that red stone. What stopped him... In that moment, what stopped him was the knowledge that whoever obtained that stone could use his power--his life without permission and without purpose. For Aurelius Carston Schwarz, supporting that hated human concept of narcissism was impossible. So he lived--he lived another day to make Hild's dreams come true.

Sweet wine trickled as iron-tasting cardboard filled his senses with all that was pure alchemic power. His throat burst with the sustenance of sacrifice, brimming over all control and allowing his tongue to lather every pore around the two holes his fangs made. Black overtook his closed eyes, feasting slits across the iris where anything human still remained. Let go, he did. And it almost never stopped as his mind cranked slowly into reality, realizing that this very act defiled his nature. He yanked himself away with shock. Backing up on his feet, he looked up with wide eyes at Surealis, lost for a moment as fogged dreams dripped away. Such an unfamiliar surprise... He sucked in a shuddering breath, pushing down the instinct to lunge again at that place--that place where inside he wanted to stay forever until there was nothing left to draw out--until the last dying moan of pleasure from his...victim. "You're good," he breathed, just noticing then that he was panting.

[Dai]

Ugh... he'd managed to piss her off. Sighing softly, the redhead turned his head to the side, with a slight blush on his cheeks. Fucking hell. Shaking his head, the man grimaced internally. "The pride of a nation does not rest in a building; the spirit of the people does not ebb in flames of snow. It takes a lot more than that to win a war. You think RIOTE is our only problem? Our? Where was the our when you went off on your own without orders? Where was the our when you left Briggs for Creta? Where was it then and where is it now? All I see before me is a careless man that does not understand anything. Nothing at all...nothing." He turned towards her and chuckled. That was his Reila. Even if her words were coldly directed to him, he couldn't feel any pain from them. He knew them to be mostly the truth, and therefore couldn't rebuke them. Except for... that last statement. He wasn't arguing back, but he felt the need to say this. He may not understand anything, but she didn't, either. "If you say so, however think on what would happen if Briggs fell. This building is a symbol of Drachma's pride... they may continue to fight, but it would never be the same for them." He shook his head and sighed again. And then Reila turned away from him. And then the tachi dropped to the earth, ringing out it's shrill tones as it clashed with rock and stone.

And with that sound, came a fresh burst of pain. Biting his lip, the redhead fell onto one knee, closing a single eye. "Heh... guess I'm more injured than I thought." Words. They were only whispered, yet they were louder than any voices that he had ever heard before. The pain sent tingles throughout his flesh and form, and he chuckled to himself, holding his arms up and cradling his chest, before coughing, then gritting his teeth. Damn... am I... really that weak? It had to be the exhaustion. Yes, he had to attribute it to that. Panting, Dai slowly clambered back to his feet, stepping backwards slightly from the feeling of wooziness. Head rush. Goddamn... head rush. "You are saying that you would like to take responsibility for a man that can kill you with a flick of his wrist? Do you understand fully what you are saying? They will kill you, but only after crushing everything that you had ever loved. I will take him." He chuckled, speaking words under his breath so that none would hear them, "That's m'girl." Breathing out a rather heavy breath, Dai could only smile softly. It wasn't just the beauty, he'd affirmed that already. If it was the beauty, he could've found any woman off the street. Instead; for Dai, it was that strength. That strength that he didn't have. Weak of body and mind... able to fall for anything... was that his curse?

Shivers of pain fluttered up and down his body, a new wave brought by the realization that he was cold. "Hnn..." Steaming breaths left his mouth, and he grit his teeth. He could stand against it. He'd be alright. He had to be... because that pinnacle of strength over there... she didn't have anyone to be strong for her. He wasn't strong for himself. His strength came through when it came to others. And in his mind, words began to mull themselves over and over in that same, soft voice:

Even if I could redo the past, I must not take back what has already happened.
Because if I do that, everything would be a lie.
Those tears.
Those pains.
Those memories.

That cold reality that hurts my heart, all of it.
There were people who died in pain.
There were people who risked their lives to save others.
There were people who mourned for the deaths.
But then, if everything was taken back, where would all of those go?
The dead people would not come back.
Reality cannot be overturned.
To continue on remembering the pain and the weight...isn't that how lost things are remembered?
...People will eventually die, and death itself is sad.
But pain shouldn't be the only thing that remains.
A death is painful but it also leaves behind bright memories.
As I am bound by these peoples' deaths...
As I am protected by my memories of my life...
I believe memories become constraints and change the living now.
...even if...
They are memories that eventually be forgotten...

"This path... I don't believe it's the wrong one." He closed his eyes for a brief moment in time, before opening them again with a slightly new fire in it. He slowly walked towards Reila, making sure to avoid the places where he'd be in danger, stepping over rubble and the like, and standing about a metre away from her. "Oi, Reila... let's take him, and go... I don't... think we should continue to fight. Not now... we have our own damages to repair. Aurelius and Hild have already escaped, it seems... and... I think that too much fighting will cause us to lose ourselves..." He chuckled, waiting for her answer. No, he already knew her answer; he just had to speak his mind first...

[Guest]

Cora glanced up as Viktor's great form lumbered into the store, her poufy lips almost seeming to pout a little bit more than normal in a slight frown. They would certainly be well protected with him there. She STILL couldn't believe she hadn't realized it sooner! What with all the potential puns he had made.... Aiya, she had to be reading too far into it. "Captain Vivian Duchamp of the Royal Guards and Crown Alchemists under Lord Dietrich. Please, attend to Major Rajan first." The woman had spoken first, the young doctor raising an eyebrow at a look she thought passed across her eyes. This was a proud woman before her. She started to nod and move for the man but then he was shaking his head, causing her to pause. Who did she listen to? "S...State Alchemist... Apos Rajan... Central. D-deal with Vi... first." Done. State Alchemist. Central? She paused at that name... Apos Rajan... Perhaps she had heard tales from colleagues, she wasn't sure at this point. She couldn't be sure, it wasn't important. Both were proud people. It made her inwardly chuckle to see the level of selflessness between these two, demanding the other get treated first. Had they known each other long? Probably not. That made it all the more interesting!

”Now see, Doctor, THAT is the smell of arousal! So do not try and fool me like that again.” Blushing faintly at his words, her head fell into the palm of her hand and she sighed heavily, praying to whatever God there might be that they didn't understand Drachman. "Viktor...." She murmured, raising her head from the palm of her head as Apos was speaking once more. "G-good to see you both... jes' get her outta the way. She's bleedin', I'm only in shock. I can last longer without treatment." Her lips pursed, crouching down on the ground to the side but between them as she rustled through her bag for everything she'd certainly need. "Shock can still be a deadly thing my friend..." She murmured as she checked both of their pulses with two fingers to their throats. Neither offered any resistance to the action which was good. ”Not to rush, but I wouldn’t take too long with him. She could pass out any minute here.”

Remaining cool as ever, Cora did turn to Vivian first, placing her gloves aside as she hoped she had enough bandages for her. "I know Viktor..." She murmured, biting her lower lip as she looked from the wound to the Cretan soldier's face. "Sorry, this might hurt a bit. Gotta check for..." She drifted off as she placed her hands on the broken arm, falling into silence as she accessed her alkahestry. Jesus... She might as well have shattered her damn arm! "The hell happened hun?" She asked rhetorically with wonderment clear in her voice as she first went to work bandaging up the wound. She removed the gloves Vivian was wearing and seemed to take moments to get it all bandaged up. "You'll probably need a blood transfusion, but you're ok for now. That'll hold you up." With that, she turned to the shattered arm and sighed. Shock was tricky... She shouldn't leave him hanging there for long.

Moving over to Apos, she quickly checked him for any broken bones or fractures finding nothing which was a relief. "Viktor, I need you to change back and lay him down on his back gently. Flat on his back please. It'd be good if we had a blanket so we could wrap him in it, but we can do without for now." She began, turning her attention back to Vivian as she placed her hands gently upon her arm, going to work knitting her bones back together with her alkahestry. "Ok, Apos, whats going to happen is he's going to lay you on your back ok?" She wanted him to know what was going to happen without concern as to why Viktor was suddenly touching him or something. Glancing down to her work, she then raised her brown eyes to the state alchemist with a warm, easy smile. "Then we're going to elevate your feet slightly and loosen up any restrictive parts of your clothing like the neck, wrist, ankles, waist, all that ok?" She spoke to him, turning her eyes to Viktor as she continued her instructions. "I promise this'll be done soon. Just gotta chillax." Chuckling slightly, she fell quiet as all her concentration went into her current task of fixing those bones. It always gave her such a warm feeling when she used her abilities like this, probably mostly from the power of the Dragon's Pulse, but even besides that!

"Vivian, if you could just keep talking to him, help keep him calm and aware, that'd be great. I'll get you some pain killers once I'm done, ok?" She spoke very quietly, leaning close to the woman's ear as she shifted how she was kneeling there, wanting to be sure she didn't somehow heal her bones wrong because that'd just cause all sorts of obvious problems.

[Csilla Angelis]

“Let's go.”

He was... holding onto her hand. And... almost smiling. And he wasn't letting go. And... oh. Then he did. But... wait. Her eyes flared slightly as she realized he had spoken Amestrian to her. The last time he had spoken Amestrian to her had been in that trap ditch. It seemed like one hundred years ago. And suddenly the sounds of war hit her. She felt herself going into shock when suddenly...

SHHHHHHHIIIIIEXPLOSIONBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Suddenly Elastor was in front of her, protecting her from... whatever it was that had just launched them in smokey darkness. She looked at him as he shouted for her alchemy. She didn't have time to figure out how he had discovered her power, but now was not the time. She coughed looking for any shred of light to break through the smoke. Nothing. By Hades! She groaned looking down at the snow. ...Snow! It still held the reflected light. Dropping down to her knees, she threw her rifle down next to her. “It's going to get darker, hold on!” She blocked out the noise of battle as she turned her palms down towards the snow. She concentrated with all her being and suddenly the five feet circle around her and Elastor went pitch black. Only her palms were shining, breaking through the smoke. She reached out, letting the light spread in a wider circle to dissipate the smoke. For the most part the area was clear but...

“TAKATORIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

What??? Elastor was running off towards... a man in a trench coat and NO SHIRT? What was going on? “Elasto- AH!!” She raised herself up, grabbing her rifle, prepared to run after him. Until she noticed that two burly men in all white were coming towards her. Neither looked like they wanted to play nicely. Muttering a second curse to Hades she tucked her rifle under her arm. She began to move sideways as they slowed their pace towards her. They didn't look Drachman... oh well. Apparently they wanted to kill her anyway. She began slowly gathering the light she had gathered from the snow back towards her, now including the light peeking through the smokey air. It was getting steadily darker and they paused a moment, confused. With a yell so they both looked at her, she released the light. Two steady beams of lights streamed from her tattoos, hitting the two men squarely in the face. Both men made rather unmanly screeches as the light blinded their vision. One went down immediately, rubbing at his eyes to clear away the spots. Csilla grinned triumphantly and looked at the other one... BY HADES! Why did he have to be wearing sunglasses when it was so early in the morning? The sun had barely risen. Stupid man! He gave a dark chuckle and began to stalk towards her.

“Come here, little missy. I'll show you some real fun.” Csilla continued to circle, setting her rifle so she could shoot at him. “Please, don't make me kill you.” In response he pulled out a gun of his own and fired a few shots. Csilla rolled and missed the first two, her back arching in pain as the third grazed across her shoulder. And so she did what she hated to do. She shot. He managed to dodge her bullets at first, but he tripped over his compatriot on the ground and a moment later, both had been shot in the chest. She went over, watching in mild disgust as the blood seeped from their wounds. “I asked you not to make me kill you. May Charon make your journey over the Styx peaceful.”

With her soft spoken words, she was off towards Elastor and the man he seemed so intent to kill. She had nearly reached him when... oh. Great. MORE of these men in white and even some Drachman soldiers. “Well Ares, here we go again.” She began the process over again. Blind and kill, blind and kill. All in a day's work, yes?


[Vi, I forgot if Takatori was wearing a shirt... if he is, I shall edit. Also, I hope it's cool that I brought in and destroyed some MiW. I will also edit if you need me to <3]

[Guest]

"Stop it! You'll bleed to death." Eh? A hand gripped his wrist, and Nanaya could only watch with wide eyes as Sakuya stood over him. Idiot, though the pain of the knife on his tongue did come out for him now. Hm. He'd pushed harder than he'd expected to. He sighed softly, the outflow of breath blowing over the cut and causing it to sting slightly. Not that it would matter, of course. "Ten years? Are you high? I saw your ass at that stripper bar that that fool Tataki took you to. Disregarding the fact that you looked like a fucking--what's the word--zombie from a fucking horror film crawling up that building, you're licking a fucking knife. What the fuck is wrong with you, Ace, huh?" He was slightly taken aback. Did the older brother not know the truth? He was certain that he was known as Nanaya... then. Growling slightly, Nanaya felt a push from inside the back of his mind, beating against his chest with a frustrated fist, He doesn't know you. You're the loser here. Shut up Saeji. You're just a foolish replica of a personality. You have no purpose in this world anymore. No. I'm the real Ace Aeries. You're just someone who hides beneath the visage of truth. Coward. He would have stabbed his own heart then and there if he didn't want to live right now.

"Have you finally hit puberty?" What the fuck was that question? WHY THE HE-- AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... See, Nanaya? He doesn't even believe you. Just give up. Return to your hiding place, before I simply execute you now. Hmph. That foolish child. If he died, would Saeji not die too? "No, no keep going. I want to see you walk all over me some more. That is...if you think you're capable." That laugh. He really didn't believe him. As far as he knew, it was probably some childish trick by Saeji. Foolish, foolish man. And then, something unexpected happened. "'ello Xingese Militants. You're probably confused as shit right now, but let me relieve your stress, seeing as hot coco doesn't seem to be served in the middle of a war zone. This is Sakuya Aeries speaking. Yeah, I'm sure you heard all sorts of rumors. Like maybe that I'm the initial heir to the throne or something? So technically my orders must also be taken into account. Furthermore, let me mention that... uh no, you're not switching sides. Finish strangling your enemy and discreetly go back to whatever you were doing before my kid brother decided to lose his mind. Over and out." What? Fucking NO! Nanaya had to kill Sakuya NOW. NOW. NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOW!

And then, a punch. he was hit in the jaw, and went flying to the ground, hitting the roof of the building with a loud grunt. "Get a fucking grip, Ace. We're not playing battleship anymore; these are human lives at stake here!" He rubbed his cheek, and grinned. "I know, Sakuya. But that doesn't matter to me. The lives of those soldiers, prepared to lay down their lives for m--" His voice suddenly left him, and he felt like the air had simply been drained out of him. He tried ot stand up, but couldn't; his eyes widened in shock at the goings-on.

This is my body.

No, no it isn't. This is HIS body. HIS. He growled loudly, before standing up slowly, trying to get a control of his limbs. It was easy enough. One step, two step. That was all. If he took simple enough steps, he'd be able to draw his knife and slice through Sakuya's throat.

No. This is my body. That is MY brother. THIS IS MY LIFE.

All of a sudden, everything went dark.

---

And when he awoke, he was standing on a bridge. Strange, why was there a bridge like this in Drachma? No, this wasn't Drachma. This was the golden bridge of Xing. Yes, the path that led from the Jade Palace, over the moat, and into Xi'an's main city centre. One of the stranger things about this bridge, however, was the fact that it was over a rather large moat. This moat was as deep as it was steep, as it was wide. And at the other end of the bridge, there was another that appeared such as him. This boy wielded a knife. That knife was the same as the one in his hand. "Oh, Saeji. You showed up. Finally got some balls, did you?" Saeji was silent, standing there in his calm position, looking down slightly as if he was ready for anything. "Not going to speak? That is fine by me. Instead, you will simply die." That was his final word, and he suddenly ran forwards, brandishing the blade like wildfire, running for Saeji as he cracked with wild laughter. Saeji didn't react, waiting for Nanaya to approach before he raised the blade up into the air and started his blocking maneuvers, moving backwards with each hit as they sparked. Nanaya felt the motions, and found the blindspot as well, ducking down and aiming straight for there. As if it was fated, Saeji moved backwards a step and then forwards and around the arm, pushing his fist into Nanaya's chest. Nanaya stumbled backwards slightly, and looked up just as Saeji moved the blade in front of his face, pushing forwards and suddenly executing a multitude of cuts; seventeen in total; Through the neck, the back of the head, from the right eyes to the lips, upper right arm, lower right arm, Right ring finger, Left elbow, Left thumb, left middle finger, left breast, from the rib, to the heart, From the stomach to the abdomen in two places. Left groin, Left thigh, Left leg, Left toe, all of them. Each of these cuts were aimed to specifically dismember Nanaya into completion.

And they were blocked. Every one of them was blocked, Nanaya simply laughing them off with a wild face. "THAT MOVE IS MINE. I TAUGHT YOU THAT. I KNOW HOW TO BLOCK THAT. FOOLISH BOY." Saeji grit his teeth and stopped, sighing softly. "Heh, giving up, Saeji? Well, I can already see where to kill you; so you might as well stop there." Nanaya's eyes glowed blue, as did Saeji's. But then... Saeji finally spoke. "Heh... Nanaya... is that all you see?" Nanaya stepped backwards, a slight look of wonder on his face. What... did he mean? "I will show you the difference between our eyes. Let me show you..." He suddenly brandished the knife in a different angle having seen the spot that he knew would be right for destroying this object. The blade of the knife began to glow, as per his Alchemy. "WHAT IT MEANS TO TRULY KILL SOMETHING." Bringing the blade up, Saeji suddenly stabbed it into the spot that he'd seen, and large lines of energy spread out. The Alchemy did it's job, and as easily as it had been put forwards, the bridge crumbled right beneath Nanaya's feet. Starting to stumble back, he held out his hand with a look of shock on his face. And Saeji grabbed it.

"W...why?" Saeji's face was steely as he looked Nanaya in the eyes. "Because you'd come back if you just fell." Pushing the knife down, Saeji sliced through the man's throat, and let go as he fell, trailing blood as he did so. He slowly stood up and looked down. "Goodbye, Nanaya. I have claimed dominion. You are..."

---

"...nothing." Sounds returned to his ears and he slowly sat up, looking around with a hand on his forehead. Where was he? D-Drachma... right. Shaking that off, he slowly stood up and looked further. What... why did his chin hurt? He looked over at Spade... and nodded. "Heh... oops?" Looks like he had some explaining to do. But for now... he rubbed his chin and reached up to his ear, now addressing his soldiers. "Ugh... my apologies for that outburst. The problem is averted and..." The image of Nanaya's body falling into the depths of his mind and disappearing flashed before his eyes once more, "...shouldn't be coming back, any time soon." He chuckled lightly, and shook his head once more, swooning from the feeling of having fought for his own mindset once more. "Goddamnit Nanaya... So glad that I killed you..."

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