Induction

[Guest]

The night was ever so young as the sun went by in smooth tidings. Setting Esparia into a moonless darkness. A summons was sent the way of Vito, mostly in the form of a message slipped into his place of dwelling. Also called house. Where it would be labeled as it follows...

Vito Camillo Reyes of Vizcaya,

You have been summoned to the presidential palace. To appear there within the dead of night, in layman's terms, 'midnight'. Come there with this invitation, you shall be granted access and to be shown where you are summoned. Be sure to wear formal clothing, preferably black.

We are expecting you there, and we expect you to be punctual about it.

Best regards,
- Don Rodrigo Garcia.

Were it he to appear at the front entrance, he would be met by a man in a black suit, wearing a set of shades despite it being night time. That he would greet under the pretext of "sworn man" to Vito. To lead him through the corridor, and into an elevator where he inserts a card key. That it would take him down to a room of dull grey cement assortment, yet contradicted by such lavish and rich tapestries and paintings. Those of men and women all wearing black formal suits. That all of them seem to be of different ethnicity, a difference to the monotonous Amazonian guards that dwell above.

That were he to step out of the elevator, he would see a lined up set of men, with Vasco among them, standing in front, with a faded elderly gentleman accompanying his honor's flank. The right side, holding an ebony box, as if it were to be presented.

[Guest]

Vito Camillo Reyes of Vizcaya, The man had grimaced, the moment he had read the beginning of the letter. Not only was he being referred to by his full name, but also by the village of Esparia from which he was born. Shaking his head slightly, Vito slowly walked through the darkened streets of Malos. This hellish city never slept, and the dim lights that came from the windows accentuated the form of the dark man quite nicely. Smirking inwardly, Vito's footsteps made quiet steps that resounded around his body, and he slowly made his way in the direction that he had been told to go in. It was about five minutes to midnight; a time that he wouldn't normally be walking around these dangerous streets for. He carried no guns on him tonight, his black coat hung over his body, empty; its only purpose now to hide the tattoos that spread up and around his arms. On his hips, he carried the six Claves Negro that he had trained with, his old friend and rival, Krieger. You have been summoned to the presidential palace. To appear there within the dead of night, in layman's terms, 'midnight'. Come there with this invitation, you shall be granted access and to be shown where you are summoned. Be sure to wear formal clothing, preferably black. Hnnn. He had wondered exactly why he had been summonsed to come at this specific time, as opposed to coming earlier than this. "I suppose that it is rather suspicious to be called, especially at this time." He sighed softly, musing this over and shaking his head.

We are expecting you there, and we expect you to be punctual about it.

Best regards,
- Don Rodrigo Garcia. Don Rodrigo Garcia, hmm? Vito shook his head and sighed softly, stretching himself under the pale moonlight and deathly street-lamps. One would have to think this over, to be quite honest. In such a way, he had been invited to the palace of the president. Although he spent most of his time there, this direction that he was taking was familiar and completely alien to him. The darker landscapes, the feeling of the cool night wind on his face, it was all so new. He let out a small breath, and nodded inwardly. To continue on would be to find this mystery. Also, the President didn't appreciate it when you were late. So, he would be punctual. He would listen, and accept any offers he was given. For that was his prerogative as the bodyguard of Vasco's daughter, correct? And so, as this man made a slow trek through the dark streets of Malos Ciudad, he began to realize that the presidential palace was now much closer. Looking up at the building, he watched the dark silhouette grow out of the night's sky, looming over everything as if it were the watchful guardian of this place. He placed a hand onto the large gates that separated Vasco from the rest of the dregs of society, took a deep breath, and pushed it forwards. As it swept open before him, he slipped into the area and watched it close behind him, turning towards the Palace, now. This was where he would meet Vasco, he hoped.

And now, he began the walk towards the building that stood before him, closing his eyes slightly and watching the men on the rooftop. They were good shots, if he remembered correctly. The gravel crunched beneath his footsteps, and he chuckled internally as he finally reached he door. Looking to the side of the door, he saw a man in a black suit and shades. Hm, strange. It was too dark for shades. "I have been summoned here?" "Ah, the sworn man, I see. Come with me, sah." Turning around, the man led him into the now-lit corridor, down towards a door that Vito had always seen, but never been past. And now, as the man slipped a key card in, he would finally go past. The pair traveled down some stairs, and towards a dimly-lit room; concrete, yet filled with tapestries and paintings. This place was certainly filled with the most lavish of goods, and he quite liked it. However, he had to wonder exactly why he had been brought here, and when he looked into the centre of the room, his question was half-answered. There he was, Vasco Allende, standing in the middle of a line of men that spread out before him. His eyes narrowed briefly, looking at the men at either side of him. His eyes noticed the ebony box for a second, but looked away and returned their gaze to Vasco. "I expect that I may speak without being spoken to, sir? If that is the case, why have I been brought here to such... secretive... proceedings?"

[Guest]

"Hush now, boy. It's impolite to speak before your elders." Vasco reprimanded, it lacked his usual harshness in his tone when addressing Vito, or even that typical sardonic vocals he uses around the younger gent. "Continue on, Don Garcia."

The older man stepped forth, as the rest of those men and women in the room (relatively unnamed and seen as generic for the most part, unrecognizable by facial features. Strangers so to say.) They encircled around Vito neatly, as if it were all choreographed quite well, holding up swords quite similar to the Claves Negro the Esparian brooding lone wolf held. Clutching the blade upwards, tilting it downwind and at the Vizcayan. All of them like shadows unto Vito, baring such sharpness towards him, yet such designs left towards him were nothing hostile, but rather of friendship vested in blood brotherhood, all united towards one cause. One for all, and all for one. Ironic such an alchemical concept applying to such an anti-alchemical people.

"Do you, Don Rodrigo Garcia, of the Malos sect of Strength, accept this spirited soul into the depths of Power itself?" The president asks, stretching his right arm outwards, holding to a key resembling the lock that closes the box of ebony secrets.

"Like the Sun that dawns, he is the Shadow of the Night. Silence is his boon." And so Rodrigo says, and so Rodrigo made it so. A pact has been sealed. Accepting the key he was so graciously offered, inserting it into the lock, twisting it and unraveling the contents ever so hidden by the ebony box.

"Then anoint him so, purifier of all that is filthy, cleanser of all that is impure, and vindicator of all that spread discord for every breath they take."

"Lo and behold, I dub you brethren of the Burial Agency." Don Garcia paces up to Vito, drops to a single knee, presenting before Vito within such a box, a locket resembling the necklace crest of an eagle, "Do you accept all that is entitled to you, the benefits, the responsibilities, and the burdens of the brotherhood? You are obligated to become the sworn man of the Allende family. To serve him as his eyes and claws, to use your talons to sweep up all that is unbecoming of him, and to further endeavor towards his cause, whatever it may be."

"Ahem ahem, of course, if you don't accept, we are free to perform memory cleansing lobotomy, seeing as to how this induction ritual is not exactly supposed to be public." Vasco smiles, that same harshness resurfacing back into his otherwise lightened attitude, "You won't remember a thing of this meeting ever happening, and you may go back to the life as you always have been -- ignorant. Without knowledge of the inner working of society, and without access to the older Malos archives of our people."

"Son, with these options presented, and considered, would you differ to a judgement as of now? By accepting the invitation, you have stepped into the realms of the unknown. Your path is forever stained with darkness the moment you walked in here. Your lineage... makes you preferable towards being inducted into this group, further will be explained when you put on the necklace, so much as to accept the burdens of being within the crevices of society itself." Don Garcia's knees began shaking, he was getting too old, his muscles were not as proficient as they were back then, and his back is aching like Hell, from leaning down for quite a bit.

[Guest]

"Hush now, boy. It's impolite to speak before your elders." The man grit his teeth slightly, making a small 'kuh' noise as he did so, stepping backwards a mite and preparing himself for what was about to come. Something felt wrong about what was going on here, it didn't feel like this was going to be one of those average nights. "Continue on, Don Garcia." Vito's face darkened, and his body stiffened in preparation for the continuing events. His hands tapped on the Claves Negro, those blades which only two people in this world held. Himself, and Krieger. The men and women that stood either side of Vasco began to move around Vito, preparing themselves into a circle that surrounded him. Vito could hear nothing, save for his quiet breathing that started to grow in volume in the sides of his head. Swords sat around him, held into the air and pointed in his direction. He bit his lip; those swords were exceedingly similar to his Claves Negro, if also very different. They didn't have the potential as throwing blades, he could only see them being used as general melee weapons. Hostility was in the air, but not directed in his path. Instead, it was just there, and it filled this small and enclosed space with the power of the world. "Do you, Don Rodrigo Garcia, of the Malos sect of Strength, accept this spirited soul into the depths of Power itself?" Vito's eyes twitched, and he turned towards Vasco once more, staring at the man through hardened and sharpened eyes, blades that sat on his face and watched with great care.

So, that was Don Rodrigo Garcia? That strange man, the one who held the ebony box? Vito smirked internally, not showing it on his face as he did so. "Like the Sun that dawns, he is the Shadow of the Night. Silence is his boon." The box was opened, and the man turned towards Vito himself, now. "Then anoint him so, purifier of all that is filthy, cleanser of all that is impure, and vindicator of all that spread discord for every breath they take." The man approached, and went down onto one knee before him, Vito looking into the ebony box to see what had been revealed to him. Within the box, was a locket. A locket that resembled something that sat upon the neck of an eagle. And then, Don Garcia spoke to him once more. "Do you accept all that is entitled to you, the benefits, the responsibilities, and the burdens of the brotherhood? You are obligated to become the sworn man of the Allende family. To serve him as his eyes and claws, to use your talons to sweep up all that is unbecoming of him, and to further endeavor towards his cause, whatever it may be." He was already a sworn man of the Allende family. He was already one who took it upon himself to sweep up that which was unbecoming. It was a part of his duty to Miss Francesca, and if this was to be a part of it, then, well...

"Ahem ahem, of course, if you don't accept, we are free to perform memory cleansing lobotomy, seeing as to how this induction ritual is not exactly supposed to be public. You won't remember a thing of this meeting ever happening, and you may go back to the life as you always have been -- ignorant. Without knowledge of the inner working of society, and without access to the older Malos archives of our people." The archives... he could find out more. He could finally discover the truth... looking over to the side, Vito's mind started running in a multitude of different ways, thinking the world over and all of it's qualms. "Son, with these options presented, and considered, would you differ to a judgement as of now? By accepting the invitation, you have stepped into the realms of the unknown. Your path is forever stained with darkness the moment you walked in here. Your lineage... makes you preferable towards being inducted into this group, further will be explained when you put on the necklace, so much as to accept the burdens of being within the crevices of society itself." His face darkened further, watching Don Garcia for a second, before reaching out a hand and placing it into the box. His fingers gripped the pendant, and he hesitated for a second. I can't go back. Pulling it out, he raised it up and held onto it, chuckling softly, before reaching out with the other hand to assist Don Garcia in standing up. "Come, Don Garcia. I can tell that it is getting tedious for you." He gave the man a kind smile, and assisted the man to his feet, before looking at Vasco with a pair of narrowed eyes. "I suppose that I shall accept your proposition. It would feel wrong to have my memory removed, and I do not wish for people to poke around in my brain." He laughed softly, completely outside of the serious mood. "Besides..." His gaze suddenly softened a little, and he looked further into the distance... "I feel that I could do more for Miss Francesca, this way... so I accept." He would never know if he'd made a mistake or not, for now it was set.

[Guest]

Quite funny really, the sword resemblance to the ones Vito had were superficial at best. Correctly assessed to be used for slicing and dicing people, than throwing at people's faces.

Tensions were quite abundant throughout the entirety of the meeting, as the men and women in black began chanting in a hymn subtly, making for nice tunes that sets the atmosphere for this initiation. All for Vito. All to supplement him in this coming of the world. Yet all of this afforded at Vasco's own ignorance of Vito's little escapade with Fran. Were he to know otherwise... he wouldn't be so much generous as this as much as more like wanting to murder him, BADLY. But at least this was not the case, giving free reins to the poor resident of Vizcaya. Yet to those whom see Reyes from outside his perspective, the surrounding men and women, would not help but admire his resilience in the face of adversity which is to say, a plenty, from all those that play the superiority of position.

The elderly man, Rodrigo, would stand to his feet, relieved to be absolved of his duty of promptly kneeling. Huffing from the tension of old age. He was getting too old for this, and he felt that he shouldn't make it a habit to kneel down. Perhaps let someone else do it for him for a change. His stiff bones weren't made to be kneeling like this anymore, his advanced age rendered his physical abilities to be lessened.

"Thank you, son, I didn't think you were the gentleman, not from the way the President spoke of you... *Pants* ...Something about being a lecherous fox, a sneaky serpe--"

"That's enough, Rodrigo. He doesn't need to know that." Vasco interrupted, quieting the elderly gentleman with his authoritarian tone.

"I.. I understand."

"I suppose that I shall accept your proposition. It would feel wrong to have my memory removed, and I do not wish for people to poke around in my brain. Besides... I feel that I could do more for Miss Francesca, this way... so I accept."

This made Vasco's lips slink into a nasty scowl, followed by a raised eyebrow, suspicious of Vito's intention with his daughter, forgetting the good will he held earlier, probably had to do with that laughter Vito gave.

"And what do you mean by 'do more', Reyes? Explain yourself." The President demands with a mighty suspicion on his part, anything concerning Fran is suspicious and demands his attention.

"Err... alright, disperse brothers and sisters. This inauguration is done." Garcia waved them away, as they all shrugged and went on to continue whatever businesses they were originally conducting, in this fine evening, "I am sure he merely meant that in a protective way, Mister President."

"We'll see..." He threw about that remark like a sniper's bullet on and about, "Reyes, meet me and Garcia at the rooftop, you have one more final test. Don't think this'll come TOO easy."

Setting all his current appointments aside, the two would stroll to the express elevator to the roof. Leaving Vito the option to take... the stairs... through all those steps that tower quite high, perhaps several floors as the way would seem most endless. The two would arrive to the rooftop, as they don binoculars by the ledge, peering at the skyscraper which towers high, opposite perhaps by several blocks across the Presidential palace.

"What an eyesore." Allende mutters.

[Guest]

"And what do you mean by 'do more', Reyes? Explain yourself." ....foolish old man, always so suspicious of him. Of course, he may or may not have kissed said old man's daughter, however that was never his intent with that statement. It was a completely unromantic, factual statement of intentions. Bowing slightly, Vito gave a soft smile to Vasco as he did so. "To put it simply, I have pledged to protect Miss Francesca. However, this allows me to do so in a different way. I do not wish for this to interfere too much with my work as a Privateer, of course--a necessary cover is needed." And he wished to spend more time alone with Fran, but that was beside the point. "I am sure he merely meant that in a protective way, Mister President." Here was Garcia, agreeing with Vito's point, thankfully. "We'll see... Reyes, meet me and Garcia at the rooftop, you have one more final test. Don't think this'll come TOO easy." He blinked, and nodded, following them towards an elevator that raised itself towards the top of the tower. Well, it looked like it was time to take the stairs. Chuckling dryly, Vito placed the first foot onto the first stair, and then began to run. One would normally be demoralized by such stairs, but Vito was used to carrying the weight of a thousand burdens on his shoulders... so he would run.

And run he did, thundering up the many flights of stairs without a single breath out of place, nor any sweat down his face. As he ran, he considered everything; Vasco's look when Vito mentioned Fran, the whole idea of this damned thing... if he were to be told to leave Fran alone, then he wouldn't do such a thing. He couldn't... not with what had happened in that hospital in Drachma, nor with how he knew that he felt. Sprinting up to the top of the staircase, he bit his lip and continued to run, not faltering for anything anymore. The sounds of the Claves Negro on his hips clattering was the only other sound in this lonesome staircase; and yet he loved that feeling of being alone like this... "C'mon..." Three left, two left, one more flight... and Vito burst out of the door to the rooftop, skidding to a stop with a steely look in his eyes. "I am here, Vasco. You said you have a test?" Oookay... he'd just run up those damn stairs, it seemed. Wow. Huh. Interesting.

[Guest]

That skyscraper. It was the most irritating blight in existence. It was a Gelemortian building. Whomever in their right mind let it stand there oughta get shoot, impaled, quartered, impaled, shot again, and decapitated JUST for GOOD measure. Actually, WHO let a Gelemortian construct that skyscraper in the first place?! And just why in Hell didn't anyone tell Vasco until now? This is a terrible disease and a blight that disagreed with every Esparians notion of getting along with those cheese suckers, and naturally, as an Esparian himself, Vasco agrees with national sentiments. And not to mention that tower has ALWAYS blocked Vasco's view of the beach.

BAMFKATOOSHBOWCHAKAWOW

The sort of sound a door makes when opened by a mysterious and obnoxious subordinate whom seems to have the name of "brooding" aching and screaming out EVERYTIME one looks at him. Makes him perfect for having him stare down a typical steroid monkey or two with his brooding eyes, for what end exists within that soulless machination (or soulful) that which is Vito's?

"I am here, Vasco. You said you have a test?"

Vasco... VASCO?! When did he get on a first name basis with that ungrateful brooder? And why is he seeming so casual all of a sudden? Sheesh, just because he treated like an equal or the closest equivalent to it between he and Vito, doesn't mean he IS one damnit.

The President replies with tossing him a binocular, with a frown. Something so often around the younger male, pointing towards that skyscraper in front of him and Garcia, whom saw fit to keep his silence.

"It's Mister President to you." His Esparian rolled off with some infuriating tones, "And yes, thank you for stating the obvious. Look at that skyscraper right there, you see it? Good, I want you to go there alone, without taking anything, straight there, and eliminate all the occupants. Arrange a little 'accident', make it look like its a gas leak explosion."

His frown turns upside down menacingly, "You don't have to worry about civilians if you're the sort of ethical one. The area is cleared out, you only have a bunch of cheese-sucking Gelemortians to deal with, whom somehow saw fit to spoil our capital with their presence. Any objections? Not like I'll care about those."

[Guest]

"It's Mister President to you." Ah, so again with the infuriating tones, eh? The man chuckled softly, but kept a careful eye on the President as he did so. "And yes, thank you for stating the obvious. Look at that skyscraper right there, you see it? Good, I want you to go there alone, without taking anything, straight there, and eliminate all the occupants. Arrange a little 'accident', make it look like its a gas leak explosion." That building, hmm? He remembered hearing a story about it; how some estupido Gelemortian idiota had decided that it would be a bright idea to build a big fucking skyscraper in the middle of the slum-like suburbs. Vito was frankly disgusted by it. "You don't have to worry about civilians if you're the sort of ethical one. The area is cleared out, you only have a bunch of cheese-sucking Gelemortians to deal with, whom somehow saw fit to spoil our capital with their presence. Any objections?" So, he didn't have to deal with civilian casualties? That was always good. Sighing softly, Vito tapped his hips and shook his head. No objections; he had wanted to see that building fall anyway. Reaching up to his shoulders, the heavy coat falling to the ground, Vito chuckled.

Revealed beneath were several Alchemic arrays running up and down his arms. They had no use, they were simply cosmetic--Vito hoped, anyway. Gritting his teeth, the man in the vest sighed softly. "It seems to be a clear run to the other side. I shall see you once it is through, sah." He took a few steps back from the edge, before suddenly running to the edge and leaping off the side. He closed his eyes for but a half-second, before reaching out and swinging his body off of a pipe that ran between two houses. His body flipped up into the air, and he landed on the roof of the nearest building, slowly beginning to run along the buildings themselves. His footsteps pounded upon the buildings themselves, Vito vaulting himself over aircon units, breaching the gaps between buildings with leaps and rolling underneath the occasional washing line. His feet pounded over the buildings, and he cleared more and more gaps as he approached the building itself. Soon enough, it reached the point where his next jump would carry him through the window. Flicking one of the swords off of his hip, he put it between two of his fingers and jumped, throwing the blade at the window. Because of the makeup of the windows, instead of shattering, it simply disintegrated into pellets. At least it was well-built. The sword continued to fly until it hit a wall, and Vito himself burst into the building, planting his feet onto the floor and sliding the blade out. He weighed it in his hand, and nodded to himself, drawing the other five Claves Negro in his possession; placing the handles of each sword between his fingers.

He let a small smile cross his lips, before running off through the building. Eliminate everyone within, make it look like an accident. Alright, maybe it would be easier to simply eliminate everybody within first; he could worry about the gas explosion later. This in mind, Vito began to run up the stairs to the top floor of the skyscraper, ignoring the fact that he was beginning to feel fatigued. The alarm resounded within the building, and he grinned as he ran, feeling the wind blowing across his face from the movement. His arms were held behind him, and as he reached the top of the stairs, he jumped up and pushed off of the nearest wall, lunging out into the centre of a small group of armed Gelemortian guards. He shouted out, and threw the blades. Six were thrown, six collided, six men died in a second. He grit his teeth and landed, walking over to the dead guards and sliding his blades out of their bodies, replacing them in between his fingers. "I shall continue. Wish me luck, Padre."

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

[Guest]

Alchemic arrays. He eyed the finer details suspiciously. Sighing at such a boisterous display of those tattoos. Good grief, Vito really needs to learn to be subtle, had Vasco actually been more keen about wiping out all those potential alchemists, or had been an Inquisitor, Vito would have been one duck deader than dead. A very huge dare to every eyes of patriotic and otherwise traditional Esparian out there, whom find Alchemy abominable to those without grace.

"It seems to be a clear run to the other side. I shall see you once it is through, sah."

Vasco nods, lighting up a cigar, blowing out a plume of noxious and disagreeable vapors into the air, clouding it as he observed Vito's finesse at work. Watching him go back... then suddenly explode forth to leap towards some guy's home. For a moment, Vasco was sure that Reyes would fall to his death from a foolhardy display of acrobatics, but was caught by surprise to see him safely in the good graces of a roof, and not his gory chunks of meat splattered all across the street.

"Psh, show off." He grumbled under his breath, angling his binoculears right at Vito's backside, observing his movements towards that huge Gelemortian eyesore, until he became nothing more than a speck of a dot at the horizon. Well, more like a speck at the horizon at the boner at the edge, which he kindly refers to as a tower. Alright, perfect, he can't see shit from this distance. Fair enough, he'll just read a book or watch TV for now. OH WAIT, is that Helma Sayek changing in the hotel and taking a shower? Oh yes... oh yes it is...

-At the building-

(Gonna be playing the role of NPC master)

It was Francois the janitor's time to relax at night. Given the rather liberal attitude of his boss, being a retired Gelemortian mountie, he was hoping to put behind his days of killing within Esparia. Retire here as a lowly janitor that everyone would forget. Having cleaned up the lobby relatively well, and each and every floor alone. Such was his charm. This was to be his last shift before he goes to his room in this tower, and see his wife and kids. Especially little Louis, whom he loved tenderly with all his heart. He was such a good boy, he was turning six this year. And this night marks his birthday party. He already told six of his friends whom happen to be guards upstairs to prepare for the party, and to wear party caps. Prepare the cake for his young son as they'll surprise him.

But then, an alarm sounded. It was an intruder alarm. Suddenly Francis's heart beat in thumps he could feel in his chest, eyes widen as much to his horror he realizes there may be danger. That his worst fears may be realized. That his training kicked off like an electric jolt, feeling like the wars of back then was coming back to him, much to his disagreement and displeasure.

"LOUIS." He gasped, hearing several grunts and shrieks of pain from above the roof, as well as loud footsteps clanking against the ground. Prompting him to grab a mop and rush up stairs up to Vito's current story, only to see six of his friends dead with the cake splattered aside with their killer's back facing him. He became very angry, gripping his mop in a great fury as he roared at the man of moonlit death.



"Vous ... monstre. Pour Louis, je dois vous la défaite. Préparez-vous!" Francois utters in cold grimness, gripping his mop in staff form, the way he spread his legs and held his bearing would make it obvious he had previous experience in combat. Taking slow steps towards Vito, thwacking the mopy end to a snap, instantly creating a spear of it, before flaring up his speed in a burst, thrusting the sharp splintery ends several times swiftly at Vito's torso followed by a masterful sweep at his calf to knock him down.

[Guest]

In all honesty, he hadn't noticed the cake, nor would he have cared. He was told to clear out this building with any means possible. For that reason, he would perform such heinous crimes until his own sins were repented for. The men fell around him, and he stared at the flight of stairs, watching the janitor approach him. He looked scared, if only for a second. "Vous ... monstre. Pour Louis, je dois vous la défaite. Préparez-vous!" Okay, he'd been called a monster, and this man had to defeat him for someone named Louis? At least, that's what he'd gathered from his listening; though it seemed like something Google Translate would give back. The man flicked the Claves around in his fingers and chuckled. "Fine. I shall do so." Rouenian. So very similar to Gelemortian, as he had heard. Tongues that shouldn't be spoken by those within the castes of Esparia escaped his lips, and the man gave a soft smile. His left foot shifted on the ground, Vito preparing himself for close combat. Already arming himself with the mop, Vito could only watch as the mop-like end was snapped off. Hm. He wanted to fight, huh? Strange. Vito saw lingering fear that disappeared in a slight second...

It took less than a second for the skirmish to begin. Without any further warning, the janitor was off. Several attacks were jabbed at his chest; Vito was unable to turn his body properly. The first of the Claves Negro was raised up in order to block the attack, and Vito felt himself shift on the ground with a gritting of his teeth. The attack disappeared from the weapon and was struck in a different place on his torso. That attack collided, drawing blood and creating pain. He stumbled backwards, shouting out as the mop collided with his legs and knocked him over; weapons clattering on the ground. Heh, it appeared that he was down for the count already. Raised up over him was the Janitor with his makeshift weapon, preparing himself for the kill. Unsure of how exactly to react, a kick was launched into the air; it hit the man's side and knocked him back long enough for Vito to roll out of striking range. Fingers naturally slipped over the weighted handles of the Claves Negro and Vito clambered onto his feet with a grimace. Three of them were still on the ground and the Janitor, who had been momentarily stunned, was now on the warpath once more. Basically sprinting towards Vito, the man raised the weapon into the air only to be met with the sliding of blades down the side and a dark-skinned Esparian looking him in the eyes. Vito could see the fear of God in his eyes. Normally, this would be the time to kill them, when they were most repentant. However, Vito heard him saying another name. Not 'god', but 'Louis'. This man was scared for his life. He sighed softly, stepping away and holding the blades up; two of the Claves Negro slightly touching the Janitor's throat.

"I was told not to spare anyone." His Rouenian... it was easy enough for him to speak, as he had been taught it much like any other language. However, he wasn't taught it formally and, as such, could sometimes sound a bit.... stupid, especially when he was hunting for words that were nowhere to be found. "Find women and children. Get them on next boat to Gelemorte. I am told to kill all people here. I cannot do that. Not women. Not children. Men must stay, though. I must have some proof of death." The blades were retracted, and Vito bowed low. "Deepest apologies. When women and children leave, please disable alarm. I will know then to do my job. I wish it was easier. Sorry. Enjoy life with son." Slowly standing up, the man picked up his other blades and sprinted off down the stairs, directly towards the gas chambers; leaving the dumbfounded janitor behind. There would be a certain area designed to heat the water and the like; Vito would let that build up in pressure. Give it enough juice and the place would explode. Judging by the foundations, it would take the base of the building out and let the entire thing fall to the earth. That's exactly what he wanted and needed...

[Guest]

What google translate couldn't tell was the proper spelling of the French, given what the janitor said was in fact for Louis, he will defeat Vito. Or so it goes. The janitor was pretty sure of it! The second hit in fact went through, he knew it. His chances of winning was closer. Sure he was blocked from the first, but this was nothing. Francois was going to win, yes, the drawing of blood told him this was gonna happen. He drew extra effort in his sweep, he WILL down this adversary. He WILL WIN. This was the only thing he needed now. Unlike this evil monster, he had a goal. And he will need to destroy Vito's wish. That's all to it.

Whatever this man's weapons are he saw, they are definitely lethal, these sword-like weapons mustn't get close to him. So he needed to immediately take the black haired raven down. Already throwing him to the ground, he immediately went over him, ready to thrust that sharp stake rife with his blood into his throat, but his arms shivered. A moment's hesitation took a hold of him... does he just kill him like that? Does he become a monster again? His eyes... Vito's eyes, just looking at them was as if he looked at Francois' tortured soul. He... he killed a lot of people as a mountie, he retired for his son's sake. When the moment came to deal the strike, he thru--

He was kicked. He had to regain his grounds. But that kick was hard, thrust deep into his kidney, feeling a stony sting to it. It was powerful, his body was aged against the youthly man's powered hit. NO. This wasn't Francois' time to actually shrug this. He needed to regain his composure. He needed to do it quickly!

=Intermission=

Meanwhile back on the tower, Vasco and Garcia sat across each other, smoking cigars and trading stacks of cards with each other. Playing along in this game of whatever the Hell card game they invented. Having a delightful time in this rooftop gathering as they took the occasional sip from their Verdian tequila, which is the mighty kicker of a stuff.

"So, how long do you think it'll take him to die?" Vasco asks of Garcia.

"Honestly... the better question is, sir, how long does he have till he completes the mission?" Garcia retorts in a composed manner.

"That's a checkmate for me by the way. And why exactly do you think that twig has what it takes to succeed? There are alchemists in that tower. Five inquisitors that went there couldn't take them out."

"You forget sir... he has been in Drachma, Hell and back, looking death square in the eyes, and came back alive to tell the tale. And that's straight aces for me, have another go at it."

Vasco shook his head, "We'll see, and also, I have five straight queen's. So en gardé."

=End intermission=

He was... he was beaten. Francois couldn't stop this youthful monster. Resigned to his fate, he could only wish for Louis's safety. The blade against his throat threatened to end his life in the very spot. Maybe end his misery and regret, make him pay for his sins. Maybe this Esparian was in fact an angel of death sent to rectify whatever crimes he has done against humanity, and that asking for the peace of a civilian's life was too much. This... this was too much for him to take in. His life... was this a second chance? This was! He... he no longer needed to take any lives. But he still couldn't forgive this monster for killing his friends in cold blood. Even for being given an opportunity to ferry the children and women out. He had a debt to pay, but after this, it will be a vendetta again.

Being let go, he would mutter in Rouench as Vito would leave, "Very well... but I will get you next time. Mark my words."

With that, he left. That the alarm soon dims down after ten minutes, and days later, Francois would be sent back to Gelemorté, cited as a hero for saving children from a madman whom coincidentally died from a mysterious circumstance. Or so the story went. Francois himself becoming stricken with the need for vengeance, turning erratic as this act of mercy was crueler than the worst torture. To have his friends killed... and he just ran away, without doing a single thing.

But in the present, a man in long coat stepped to block the stairway up. Pulling down his velcro gloves, fingers latched against each other, prepping to snap away in friction as he viewed the intruder in front of him. Fire threatening to be unleashed, that much to his ignorance, would kill everyone in the skyscraper, had he done this.

"Well well well, what have we here? A little black rat scurrying about and causing all this ruckus." Gelemortian accented Esparian sounded behind Vito, the alchemist glared at him as the distance meant he was in a position to attack before the the distance is closed, "Did you really think you can get away with sabotaging our clandestine operation, ESPARIAN DOG?! Who set you up to this? The Inquisition again? Because we'll kill you just like we killed those misguided FOOLS."

He stepped down the stairs, doing the gap little justice as he was officially in the room. Facing against Vito with murderous intents, "Do you know what I can do? I can kill you with a snap of a finger. My alchemy can BURN YOU TO CINDERS. That's how good I am, if you want to live, then you better strip and disarm, and I'll promise to give you a quick death after you tell me everything."

[Guest]

"Very well... but I will get you next time. Mark my words." And with that, Vito was alone once more. His feet carried him towards the stairway, loudly pounding on the ground as he did so. He was almost at the next flight of stairs when he was suddenly interrupted. "Well well well, what have we here? A little black rat scurrying about and causing all this ruckus." Stepping backwards slightly, Vito grit his teeth in studying this man. White gloves sat upon his hands; Vito recognized them as ones used for fire-based Alchemy. Vasco hadn't told him of any Alchemists in the building. His face slightly dimmed as a cruel smile crossed over his lips. This was too perfect. A way to blame this building's destruction on somebody else. "Did you really think you can get away with sabotaging our clandestine operation, ESPARIAN DOG?! Oho, so they had an operation here? That was quite intriguing. Smiling calmly, the man twirled the Claves Negro in his fingers. He wondered if the man realized yet; just how confident Vito seemed in facing this man. "Clandestine Operation?" This person seemed too sure of himself. " The Inquisition again? Because we'll kill you just like we killed those misguided FOOLS." Ah, that explained the confidence. He had killed those of the Inquisition before. Lowering his gaze a mite, Vito prepared himself for the next attack. In all honesty, this man talked way too much for his own good. Too much of a harper to be an effective opponent. "Do you know what I can do? I can kill you with a snap of a finger. My alchemy can BURN YOU TO CINDERS." No shit, SHERLOCK. Shaking his head, Vito discerned that this man was truly all talk and no guts, hiding behind his Alchemy like that. A feral grin slipped into place, and Vito felt himself laughing softly. "That's how good I am, if you want to live, then you better strip and disarm, and I'll promise to give you a quick death after you tell me everything."

"Ahahaha... You, my friend, are a comedian! I like that. Pity that it won't save you." The slight confusion on the face of the Alchemist gave away all of his thoughts. "Oh, these Esparian idiots cannot stand to face my might, so why is he laughing? He should be on his knees by now!" Yup, that's what the man was thinking alright. Grinning slightly, Vito let a tongue slip between his lips and slide over the pale mounds of flesh on his face before quietly smacking them together. "Let me ask you this, sir. Do I look like one of those estupido Inquisition members? Do I look like those cowards who don't know Alchemy from a few circles?" His laugh rang out into the air, and he stared up at the man through cold and dark eyes. "I should introduce myself before I kill you, sir. My name is Vito. Vito Camillo Reyes. As of now, I am one of Vasco's inner agents, the Burial Agency. Unlike the Inquisitors, I am slightly different. See, friend," Stepping forwards, Vito began to carefully brandish the long throwing swords in preparation. "I have gone through Hell and back. I have been burnt, cut, torn and shot up. I am stronger than you." Without a second's warning, the physically-superior man suddenly lunged forwards, brandishing the blades out to is sides. "YOU DO NOT KNOW THE MEANING OF DEATH." His voice rang out loudly into the cool air. "SO I SHALL SHOW YOU!" Ducking down slightly, Vito moved without a second's hesitation and slashed along with the Claves. The blades slashed through the man's throat without resistance, and his head fell to the ground. Sighing softly, Vito watched him collapse down the stairs for a second, before following downstairs and continuing his sprint towards the place that he knew he had to go. Before long, the alarm dissipated. The janitor had escaped. He breathed out in relief. Good.

"Que descanses en paz."

[Guest]

His body fell to the ground from the stronger man's own physical prowess. He will not let this RAT sully his good clothing, and in fact dominate him! Who does this mere peasant think he is? Trying to kill him, PSSHH, he got lucky. But as soon as the blades made contact with his throat, separating his head cleanly off his shoulders. Falling as everything became dark... he could've sworn he saw his body slump down. He wanted to scream, he wanted to think this was unreal, but it wasn't. The pain... it was unbearable, it ached him, the loss of his body. He had no way to express it vocally, everything turned black. His open eyes couldn't see a thing. Only blood... and suddenly everything was fine.

His body was back, but what in the name of all that is good in Gelemorté is going on here?! Why is everything white? And why is there a featureless alabaster figure smiling at him, sitting down, and staring at him? What was that vast gate behind him? Is he there to MOCK HIM? He just had a short tumble down, he will kill that cockroach, squash him like the bug he is.

"I DEMAND TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE! You are facing a member of the most prestigious Alchemy schools out there! I--" He was cut off by the figure opposing him

"--Am from Ingar, and my my you are really the most arrogant and conceited one." The white shade mocked giddily, clapping merrily.

"I BEG your pardon?! Who are you?!"

"Dearest Pierre, could you not tell you are at a point of no return? You are me as much as I am you."

"Explain yourself knave, how do you know my name?!"

"Quite simply put..." His smile widened into the most toothiest grin, "You are dead, you paid for your hubris quite dearly, and I am your personal Grim Reaper, the truth of your transitory fickleness." He snapped his fingers, causing such a gate to tear asunder into two halves, revealing nothing but darkness inside, and with the distinct absence of an eye often seen in these gates, "Ta-ta, the abyss hungers for you. Enjoy your new found immortality, you have an eternity as you always desired."

"W-wait! You can't do this! Not to me! I have lots of money!" Shadowy arms stretch from the chasm of no return, reaching out for the man whose thoughts were to run away, but they were futile. Turning tuck tail and running has not offered him any salvation, the malleable shadows were too swift for his own legs, wrapping around him in a gentle hug as if he were but a child, pulling him back into the gates. Tears streamed down his cheeks, as he realized, this was his end, a career cut short by a raven-haired monster who didn't even the capacity to fight like an alchemist, a person he should have been in all accounts... superior to. A peasant trash not worth his station and salt. "NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOO! I DON'T WANT TO GO! IT'S NOT MY TIME! I HAVE SO MANY GREAT THINGS TO ACCOMPLISH! I CAN STILL GO BACK AND RIGHT MY WRONGS!"

"Farewell haughty one, your reward is just and the price is fair."

The door closed shut with the Alchemist trapped inside. Forever.

=Meanwhile downstairs=

The floor. The definition of objective was present. An architecture blunder to put the most volatile processing in a building filled with all sorts of chemicals, mostly stacks of explosives such as nitroglycerin were present. Guarded by a charmingly aware man that pays the seriousness of this situation by sleeping, and he was paid by the hour to boot. And just beyond him was the room... conveniently left unlocked and open to behold the contents written in Rouenian. All that was blocking the way was nothing actually. He was slouching on a chair that faced the stairs, yet his eyelids were closed. Fat and slobbering with grease on his shirt, yet muscles suggest that he could have been a sumo wrestler if given a chance. And upon closer inspection, he indeed is an Aerugese of fame, a sumo wrestler if one was up to date with these sort of strangeness observed in the land of the rising sun.

"ZZZZZZzzzzzZZZZzzz." He snores, loudly. Might as well beat a bat against a frying pan and it would still not override the sound of his obnoxious snores. Perhaps the explanation of this mass of fat's lack of alertness given an alarm was how much of a loud snorer he was? A theory to consider certainly.

[Guest]

Silence. The broken silence of his footsteps clattered through the hallways, making his presence known to those not stupid enough to be asleep right now. He was happy for one thing, if he could be happy for anything--the women and children were out. He could destroy this building with a clear conscience, knowing that the innocents in this debacle were freed from such a fate. Running through the corridors, Vito closed his eyes for a brief second, before launching himself over a handrail and down the flights of stairs, dropping three stories and landing on his feet. A shockwave spread throughout his body, though it was quickly ignored. Breathing out, Vito looked around to see where he was--a sign in badly-written Gelemortian motioned towards the 'storage'. Biting his bottom lip, Vito slowly walked into the room, noticing the sleeping guard on his seat and sighing. Well, he could assassinate this guy now, or he could leave him be and detonate this place into the sky. No, that could leave this man burning to death, it would be cruel to let such a fate befall him. Lowering his gaze a tad, Vito stepped forwards and drew one of the six blades, holding it up to the fat-man's throat. "Que descanses en paz." The sword was plunged in deep, the man's blood spraying onto the wall behind Vito. He swallowed a little, redrawing the sword and wiping it against the dead man's clothing, looking over at the explosives. This would bring the place to its knees, though he wasn't sure how long he'd get before it exploded. Gritting his teeth, Vito knelt down before it, ripping the fat guard's shirt off and creating a long fuse out of it. It reached back to the stairs, Vito drawing a lighter from his pocket and flicking it a few times. It would take a good thirty seconds to get there. That gave him thirty seconds to run.

Time Remaining: 0:30

He'd sprint up the stairs first; it'd take him ten seconds to reach a story with windows. Loud footsteps clattered on concrete flooring, Vito flying up the stairs with a cool look in his eyes and a grin plastered across his lips. He came out onto the floor with a shout, passing by the dead man's body. Looking outside, he realized that he was a good fifteen meters from ground level. He wouldn't make that landing, unless... Water. There was water there.

Time Remaining: 0:15

Water, water, water... Gods, this was frustrating. If he jumped, it was liable that he'd die. However, staying in here was a certain death. Swallowing back his bile, he dragged a table over to the window and pushed it through, watching it shatter the glass and splinter on the ground below.

Time Remaining: 0:05

He stepped back a few steps and made the final push, running for the window.

Time Remaining: 0:04

More steps towards the edge, his foot pushing off of the edge of the building itself, Vito leaping into the air.

Time Remaining: 0:03

He flew through the air now, time slowing down around him in his mind.

Time Remaining: 0:02

Falling from the building, Vito watched the water rapidly approach.

Time Remaining: 0:01

Splash. The man's body hit the water with but a second to spare, falling into the rather deep stream though missing ground by a centimetre, if that.

Time Reminaing: 0:00

An explosion. You never really got used to them in this line of work, they were always something that shocked you the moment you felt them--they were always different, every single time. He pulled himself out of the water, clothing drenched and heavy--Vito was glad that he didn't have that shit on tonight. Gritting his teeth and shaking his head, Vito clambered onto the bank and stood up, turning away as the building fell to Earth behind him. A loud crashing noise came from the collision, though Vito had no intention of turning around. Grinning to himself, the flames that rose up gave his silhouette a menacing appearance, though... it wasn't over.

"Hello, Vito." A voice: Esparian in nature, with that obvious Malos sound to it. Slowly turning his body, Vito looked up at saw the man standing in front of him, guns in hands and aiming them at him. Why did he... seem familiar? "You succeeded, I'll give you that. However, you were not meant to survive this, you know." Vito's eyes widened. What did he mean?! Stepping forwards, the man fired a single round at Vito's feet, causing him to jump back. "What do you mean, not meant to survive?" Better to test the waters, than to dive straight in. "Exactly how I said it. Not meant to live. You were supposed to die in the building's explosion. Why do you think we placed those explosives in such a place? Honestly, I'm shocked that you're alive, but it won't matter soon enough. Vasco says goodnight." Raising the weapon into the air, he fired off his first barrage of rounds, Vito diving to the side and pushing off with his sword-wielding hands. Not meant to survive?! More shots were fired towards Vito, the man managing to get away from them all and duck behind cover. "I know you're there! No need to hide! Just let me kill you~" Gritting his teeth, Vito knew that there was only one thing left to do. He needed to scare this man into submission. Closing his eyes, Vito turned around and slowly clambered up over the wreckage that he'd been hiding behind, stepping onto the ground and grinning at the man. "Why are you so confident?! You should be down on your knees, grovelling for my graciousness to spare you!"

Beneath the light, the color of the tattoos glowed slightly, giving off an ominous light. A sly grin crossed over Vito's face, his entire body shadowed by darkness, the light coming off of him and showing the tattoos clearly. Suddenly disconcerted by the sight, the man stepped backwards. "An Alchemist? All the more reason!" Raising his weapons into the air, the man pulled the trigger twice and sprayed Vito with bullets. Without a second of hesitation, the Claves Negro were brought up and spun, bullets flying off of the reinforced blades and spinning out to the sides. "Oh look at ye who lost your head, you careless soldier who wound up dead. You wore your sins like they were a prize..." Holding the blades up for throwing position, Vito drew his arms back as the man, who was now backed up against the wall. His screams pierced into the air, the look of fear crossing his face as he stared at Vito through frightened eyes. "Too many lives, too many lies..." Without hesitation, the swords were thrown and hit their target. Blood splattered out onto the wall behind him and his head hung down, the man dead and gone. Slowly approaching him, Vito raised a hand up and closed his eyelids, drawing his swords out and sighing softly. "Que descanses en paz." Turning away, he started to head in the direction of home. He'd deal with Vasco later. Right now, he needed a fucking bath and some goddamn food...

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