Re: The Fire of Change

[Guest]

Aldrich highly disliked South City, more or less because he highly disliked traveling in general. However travel he did because the ceremony taking place in South City was as important as anything. The man who would rebuild Amestris was holding a grand gala there at the 5 Sphere Garden and it would be a wise social and political choice to be seen there if nothing else. At least it better be worth it when the damn trains still didn’t have wheelchair access….

Once a city as rugged as the mountains around it, the place had made massive changes since the last time Aldrich had visited many decades previous. If there was anything that could almost leave Aldrich speechless, it was the massive “sea” that now stood where much of the South City of his remembrance had stood. The destructive power needed to cause that event and the creative power to make use of it all again, the death and rebirth of South City was just as the workings of alchemy: something old and unwanted broken down into its most base form only to be revived new and different, for better or for worse. Only the hardy working people of South City could have made this possible, the urbanites of Central had hardly gotten their feet of the ground to clean up their own messes and here was hardworking blue collar folks making the very best of their situation. It was almost…inspirational. Surely, however, this was the plan. Give the people a man who poses for change on the people’s behalf, a hardworking man for a hardworking people. All political maneuvers acted upon with great ability, one had to respect such a fine manipulator…

Some hours later, Aldrich waited in line to meet the Chancellor himself, his Nurse pushing him slowly forward as dignitaries, officers, and celebrities shook hands with the man of the hour. There was only a small amount of disgust that Aldrich held for the majority of these individuals, not so much of a seething hate but more of a low boiling malice. Schmoozers, optimists, and politicians each and every last one of them, trying to get a step up in the new world that the Chancellor would supposedly be ushering in. Among them he noticed faces familiar from the papers or faces from years past like Eyes High Brighton, Aldrich’s own appearance causing a stir of mixed recognition amongst the older guests and confusion amongst the younger. He, however, kept his eyes forward, schmoozing with other guests was something of a requirement but it could at least be held off until business was finished….

Near to the end of the line, Aldrich was finally pushed before the Chancellor, Hans L. Reinhardt himself. With eyes as hard as steel and green with years of venom, Aldrich took in the man who would be King, so to speak. Amestrian through and through, built large and powerful just as Aldrich’s own ancestors were, just as he himself would have been if not for his childhood illnesses. Aldrich extended a gloved hand towards the Chancellor, the glove’s white marred only by a Hebrew inscription on the back, its usual circle missing for purposes of security. מת….

“It is good to meet you finally Chancellor, I am quite pleased to see that after all these years, the people have come to their senses about hiring a man actually capable of running this country. You may not know who I am, sadly many do not any longer perhaps do to my own social neglect. I am Aldrich von Konig, former state alchemist and current CEO of Konig Industries. I would like it to be known that as the founder and spokesman for my company, we shall make every endeavor to help in the rebuilding of Amestris towards a brighter, better tomorrow.” The old man nodded his head and closed his eyes a moment before releasing the Chancellor’s hand, leaving in it a rather hefty check as well as numbers to various construction companies owned by Aldrich. The old man was going to be a part of this one way or another…

The Nurse wheeled him away into the awaiting crowd…into the inevitable…into…socializing…

[Guest]

So... who was that silver haired chick anyways? Typically nobody approaches Nikolaus unless it was for some security report, some lost item they want him to spend his valuable time looking for it, ORR another schmoozer that wants to butter up his palms. And see, with that white haired girl with a definitely huge bust and butt, she just approached him and followed him. Perhaps a fellow enthusiast of euthenization? Or maybe just another little curious soul that sings to death's lullaby as he does? She was a definitely deliciously excellent one to fish out of these murky waters filled with the feast for carrion of these mere-human cattle. Much better to keep your allies close, enemies closer and the shadow ones closest.

He set off his seating, turning around as his trench coat fluttered from the windy haste he took off. Large steps overlapped one another in his stride, his chest puffed boisterously, declaring to all not to fuck with him, he had the floor, and his path was already decided. Tunneling and bordering towards a way of one man whom he otherwise grew fond of his parties. These macabre gathering to cement a masquerade of those have's and have not's. Yes, those very weaklings bundle among the strong.

His fingers itched against the holster of his gun, threatening at every hover of his finger to unleash it upon these barbarian filthy profligate hordes. Oh yes! Paste them! Blow their brains! He could very well do that! Very well round up and stop all resistance. Yes, cast the play aside as this comedy ends, as all actors step off the stage. And so far, everyone had a string, acting under the great puppet master's very own stringy grasps. Even he, the Nikolaus Stuka, was under such marionette-like motions of this puppeteer. Die Sol-Gesellschaft. He couldn't do it in their presence, no, there were a few of them around in observance of the event, elderly gentlemen whom controlled some major industries and arsenal of Amestris. A loss for Amestris was never a loss for them... okay Nikolaus, calm yourself. There is plenty of opportunities out there to satiate the burning bloodlust and anger that boils within like a wicked black fire.

Oh my GOODNESS. He just had a plethora of brilliance, but why must he be so cooped up to be so lonely in this world of deception of his? No longer able to be honest with himself, playing the part of his without the unveiling of his cowl. Feeling lonely from this world that differs so vastly from the world of the ignorant all around. A great duty for Amestris? HAH! What a charade they all fell into... yes... a charade. He wasn't a great stag of free carnage, but rather the eccentric Colonel. A curse to be condemned to.

Making his way through the crowds once more, Nikolaus went to the chancellor's general area around, with all those dumb po cats are around, making some lovely honeys to the Chancellor's ears. A place he detested so, with so little familiar faces, and so many unknown hosti-- no, not hostiles. Mustn't let training influence his throught processes. They were guests. Yes... people who come to pay respects, TARGETS TO ELIMIN-- no no, again, his mind must STOP THIS. Breathing in and out, too focused to pay attention to the people shoved out of the way from his grand walk.

Finally stopping by with his focus filling in his vial of recognition to recognize a man finished with his dealings with the Chancellor, in front of Nikolaus was...

"Herr von Konig, my my, we meet again, and you brought your lovely Fraulein too! I see she is lifeless... as usual. Not that I don't appreciate her beauty." He courteously bowed before him at a slight, before grappling a Martini from a tray held aloft by some random waitress, sipping the finer contents just like that, like a boss, "Enjoying the party as I do? Because I don't, bunch of pansies and sycophants are crowding up to this joint."

[Guest]

Bradly and Sons, Kauffman Oil, the Meyer Conglomerate committee, some of the richest men and women in Amestris and perhaps the world were here, making ties and contracts, preparing for a new political playing field upon which they could lobby and manipulate. Aldrich shook hand after hand, מת מת מת מת, a smile never crossing his face despite the botaxed grins and perfect pearly teeth of each of the businessmen who passed by. To these corporate execs, meeting Aldrich was just as important as meeting the Chancellor, being on the good side of Konig Industries meant you were going to be bought out, chewed up, or thrown aside. It meant you might have a chance to strike it rich, you might have a chance to outlive that damn gristle of an old fart and take a slice of what was left over when his business empire collapsed from within. It meant...nothing at all to Aldrich von Konig. These were formalities he had not been forced through for decades and yet it came easily, deceit and manipulation merely part of game he had played for so long. He had to admit to himself though that in the recent years his patience has begun to wear thin…

“Mr. Konig sir, it is a pleasure to meet you, I represent Amsel, Gregory and Baur offices and…

“Yes, yes I am sure you do, however before you go on I wish to give you a little secret hm? Come closer, yes are you listening young man? If your firm ever tries to again file legal accusations against me then I will do unto you, unto your family, and unto everyone you care about until there is nothing else to be done. You will find me a lot harder to deal with than my attorneys, do I make myself clear?”

“Cr-cr-crystal…s-sir.”

“Good, well pleasure meeting you sir, do be off and don’t let an old man trouble you any further.”
It was about at this point that Aldrich and his nurse turned about and prepared to make their way out, the lighting ceremony itself not something he was particularly interested in and something he could get away with missing owing to “his great age.” He had been to so many of these ceremonies anyways that he knew that is was all, in the end, a shame. They had had one at the end of the Ishvallen crisis, for the lives of soldiers and unfortunate innocents. Aldrich knew too much of the actual goings on to feel anything but loathing for such things...

The old man lifted a bushy brow as the "man who saved his life" stepped forth from the writhing hoards. Of all the people here at this assembly, Stuka was probably one of the few that was just as if not more misanthropic than Aldrich, but then again this is like comparing the misanthropy of the wronged and of the wrong doer- he who hates the world for what it has done to him and he who hates the world for some twisted pleasure. Nonetheless there was, if nothing else, a kindred tie of hate that bound the two men together, their eventual destiny inexorably mixed together for some unknown fate. Somehow, deep within the old man's mind, he knew this from the moment he met the Aryan soldier, which for better or for worse he was not going to lose sight of this man any time soon.

“Ah, Herr Stuka. I see that you are as observant as ever. “ The old man’s eyes followed Stuka’s twitching fingers and manic tiny pupils, like a man watching a caged wild beast. “As I am sure you’ve noticed, I hold just about as much contempt for this world of hams as one can. However politics is a game that people like me and you play out of necessity rather than out of want, is it not? Has that promotion that I promised come through yet?” For the first time since this whole charade had begun, the old man cracked a small grin.

[Csilla Angelis]

Csilla was people-watching as she walked alongside Acra's chair. It was so lovely in here and the room was filled with such interesting people. Her hands were itching to sit down and sketch the entire garden. Too bad she didn't have a sketchbook. And she was dreading sitting in the dress, on the terrible chance that she muss it up. She wouldn't DARE do that to Phillip's beautiful creation. It was as she was musing over the horrors that could be inflicted on her ground, Acra's words came into her realm of consciousness. Cretan... Ito... AH! Her eyes flared wide quickly, a slight blush running across her cheeks. HOW DID HE KNOW? She literally stopped dead in her tracks for a moment, in awe that Shula must have told him SOMETHING. Then it dawned. DRACHMA. He had been there during that awkward moment. Duh. Acra might be dumb as a post on some days, but he wasn't STUPID. Quick, time to cover her tracks!

Having stopped for all of a minute she smiled brightly and then took an extra step or two to catch back up with Acra's wheelchair. She reached down, smacking his hand playfully. “Girls never reveal their secrets, Acra. Goodness gracious, you should know that.” She laughed and looked around, noticing they were nearing a sign that ever so clearly noted “Zen Garden.” “Hey, it looks like we're here! Now we must wait on Shula.” She was peering into the Zen Garden already, practically feeling the zen rolling in waves at her. It was extremely less populated compared to the area they had just walked through. Just a few people walking quietly, looking about. It seemed perfect. Yes, she would definitely be back here with her sketchbook before she went back to Central.

[Guest]

Chapter 1: SAA

So it seems that her next stop will be central city. She needs to issue herself a transfer request. She has good deposit in her bank account. She will get herself a two store apartment. She needs to move her things as well since she used to live in the west. Oh yes, there are many things to do.

She noticed that the colonel began to move. She decided to follow him and she will follow him in her own way. First thing is, she needs to stop being a sergeant. She needs to rank up. A rank up comes at the cost lives. Simply she will indulge herself with legally spilling people's life. Hunt down criminals and their like and she gonna enjoy it. Anything that concerns or revolves around blood, she will certainly - and by all means - enjoy it since after all spilling blood involves putting holes in heads with the force of magnum splattering their grey matter painting graffiti in red and grey on the walls, poking them hardly with her sabre in their abdomen rotating the handle and push it up to the heart and...

Who is that?

That woman nearby dancing with that TTGL guy. She remembered what the gatekeepers told her. Oh, if it is not Lt. General Reila Tsukino. Queen of the frozen halls and if this is fairy tail then she would be erza scarlet. Quite the elf she is among men with her oriental like features, her avatar dressed in unbiased white and a long cape of pinkish red with two flints blessed by Amaterasu herself. Quite attractive the woman she is. Angelika wondered, how many died from violently turning their heads - thus breaking their necks - to take peek at that cutie ? But to tell the truth, this is not the main reason why the fallen angel found her eyes enjoying the fields of the moon.

There was something red on Moon field's finger of which she licked. Hmm.. Her avatar showed disgust and her lipsticked lips more confirmed it. Strange isn't it ? The woman who leads the strongest forts of this land showed distaste for and to blood. The question is, how many souls did she release to reach such a rank ? How much blood did she spill to claim such a position ?

The fallen angel made her first impression - unknown to others - buried deep within the most deep halls of her mind never ever for others ears to hear. Well Ms. Amaterasu, sooner or later you shall meet Ms.Tsukuyomi. Indeed their paths shall cross in the future and the fallen made her first step.

And it seems that the grey silver wolf became DC's new champion. But anyway, she couldn't really hear what they were saying due to their whispering and she gaining distance.

Why is that ?

Oh, She was unconsciously following the colonel or rather her yandere legs clad in leather, steel and high heels. She chuckled to herself for she didn't meant for the whole following thing to be that literally but anyway she looked to his back. What character of fairy tail does he represent ? No. no. no. He doesn't belong to Fairy tail, he belongs to grimoire heart and he was just that close to invoke grimoire law. She felt the chill in her spine.

But who is he talking to ?

An old relic of the past but with a mind surely not corroded by the uncaring time instead being furthermore honed. Well, Angelika - or rather the yandere - decided to turn around and escort Captain Gi..Captain Green to the colonel and that when she heard Herr Van konig speaking about politics However politics is a game that people like me and you play out of necessity rather than out of want well, well, well. If what she saw in the basement is politics then - hell - she is going to be a fierce politician.

She grabbed herself a fresh mango juice. No need for liquors, zero tolerance and stuff. People will start bleeding and in such drunken state, she will not be able to enjoy such bloody moments.

O'captain green...where are you ?

O'captain green...The colonel needs to speak with you.

To herself playfully she hummed and murmured. While her boots found themselves on the road back to Captain Green. Yes, she didn't forget about her command of fetching.

[Guest]

It's good to be back. Jethro William Black walked into the garden with his head held high. His soft yet strong dark blue eyes scanned the crowd. Mostly military, with some upper citizens in the mix as well. He wasn't completely sure what this event was for, Reila had only said he was required to attend. Most likely it was for the new Chancellor and of course the inception of General Brighton for South HQ. Headquarters, the word was bitter to him now that he had returned to Amestris from Drachma. Survival had been tough out there, and only because of his loving little sister had he been able to do so. She helped him heal physically, mentally, and mostly emotionally over that time. He wouldn't be alive if it weren't for her, and he was eternally grateful for it. They loved each other a lot, and that became really apparent during their harsh trials in the Drachman winter. Them making it to the border and Fort Briggs was nothing short of a miracle. Seeing the relief in Reila's expression, it was official in that moment. Jet was finally home.

Black adjusted the collar on his shirt, fixing his tie slightly. He hated dressing up, especially outside of his armor or casual clothes. It was uncomfortable and strange, he never liked wearing a tie. Wearing it, felt like he wasn't himself. That was normal for him now a days though, he felt different. Ever since that mortar shell hit him, ever since they had escaped Moscow and were forced to hide, he had not been the same man he once was. Yet still life moved on, and here he was again in his home country, into a new life. He was no longer the Crimson Fist of the West, defending Amestris from the evils of Creta. He was now the Black Fist of the North, second to Reila of Fort Briggs. To be perfectly honest, he was happy with where he was. He had accepted his new upcoming life, and was looking forward to it. Few men were blessed with a second chance to do something better than before. That was his goal, he wouldn't fail this time, no one would be let down. Not like he did his Saga...

A single tear rolled down his face as he pictured his beloved in his mind. Her sparkling eyes, filled with fury and passion, her shinning smile. Oh, and her long, beautiful pink hair, always flowing in the breeze. That way she always hated anything he did, yet he could tell she loved him all the same. They were made for each other, and yet fate had torn them apart and perhaps even separated forever. She was an amazing woman... Jet wiped the tear away, knowing that now was not the time to think of such things. Today was a happy day, maybe not for him, but for others. That was more important right now. He fixed his tie again and stood tall, keeping his head up and his eyes forward. Time to make his appearance! Jethro walked into the open, the scar across his eye sticking out like a soar thumb. Even dressed like most of the other men in the room, he still didn't blend in. Probably the large stature and bulging muscles, but that was only a guess. He nodded to people as he passed them, a kind and courteous smile on his face. If it weren't for the politicians, it would be a little more genuine, but nothing was perfect. Hopefully with today however, that sentiment would no longer apply.

So far though, he had not run into any familiar faces. As he looked however, they began to make sense. People he'd seen before, old friends started showing up. Everyone was so happy to see him alive, he had to have told his story a dozen times. It didn't bother him though, for their smiles warmed his heart. Suddenly a flash of long pink hair caught his eye in the crowd. His heart froze, air stuck in his throat. Saga... No, it wasn't her. Instead it was his new boss, the Ice Queen of Fort Briggs herself Reila Tsukino. Also the love of his life's sister, and her recent hair color choice was the same as Saga's as well. When he thought about it, they were so alike... There he went thinking about her at the wrong time again. The Black Templar chuckled to himself and approached the Lt. General, bowing slightly. "Good evening ma'am, you look great," he said with a smile. They were so much alike...

[Guest]

This was a day of celebration and merriment! A day of remembrance and sorrow! A day where honors shall be passed around as freely as the drink and a country shall unite under the beneficent hands of a wise and just man! This was a day that would live on in the memories of those who attend for years to come….for better or for worse.

Drop the knives! No would be xingian assassin is going to interfere here! Drop your weapon and get down on the ground!

Oh~ The security was so tight at these things that it was so very stifling, was it not meant to be an open house for all to attend? Was it not meant to show that even the lowliest of the low could find a welcoming embrace from the Chancellor himself? And this fellow in a helmet with a gun at the gate can decide who can go in? What silliness!

“I will shoot if you do not drop your weapon, I am warning you!”

Ah…well that would be unpleasant if not entirely terrible. It would surely sour the mood….One might as well do as the nice security officer says.

“Oh officer~ I believe you have the wrong man and I am dearly sorry you wish to treat me so, however I do understand your logic despite its racist undertones. Here I shall drop my so called weapons for you.”

Snick, Click

For a moment the guard and the held up guests looked relieved as what they thought was a blade fell to the ground. However horror crept into their eyes as they realized the sight before them, lying on the ground was a pair of twisted talons, half flesh half metal. Towering above the wretched things was the apparent perpetrator, his flowing black kimono fluttering slightly in the breeze as he held out two handless limbs.

“There, are you happy now officer? I am now armless…er handless, ther you see I made a joke for you, I am no bad fellow eh?”

“ MO-MONSTER!”

Oh dear….

The handless man shoved his arms into concealed pockets within his kimono and with a popping noise came back with two mostly human, albeit unnaturally large, hands. Along with his hands came a badge. Hauptmann OF-2 Briggs.

I am Captain Gabriel Thadeus Fogg, Head of Science at Fort Briggs. As a doctor I can tell that you are currently suffering from extreme job stress and that it would be wise to go have a rest. Take two aspirin and see me in the morning if you continue to suffer from these paranoid delusions.”

The good doctor strode passed the shivering guard in unnaturally long steps, scooping up the talons as he did so and patting the guard on the back. He was, after all only do his job, perhaps he simply needed to find a new line of work….like experimentation subject…

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

Inside of the garden spheres, Gabriel Fogg towered over all, even the impressive size of the Chancellor was little compared to the gaunt shadow that was Fogg. Or at least that’s the way it would have been had Fogg actually stood his full height. Instead he slunk and hunched, compressing himself into a much smaller frame while his smiling face continued to peek through under his straw gasa. He didn’t want to intimidate anyone, oh no no no, it would not be right in a place like this especially after the incident at the gate. It would be uncivil at best. Small talk, yes that was what people did when they wished to be civil, now only if he had someone to small talk with…

There were always his commanding officers from Briggs but they seemed to be quite well entranced in their own business, business which had little or nothing to do with Fogg which suited him just as well. Perhaps he could just observe…

The rippling of military muscle, the rolling of corpulent business fat, veins twisting in necks and writhing up palms. Oh the pleasures he could have here, oh the things he could learn. How much longer did his heart have before complete coronary collapse? How many pounds could her frame take before it shattered? What exactly were the testosterone levels in that soldier and what would happen if he was suddenly given a very large dosage of estrogen other that prostate cancer? That one’s skin was such a fine color for absorbing vitamin D, could it be adapted for other purposes? What was all of their blood types and how many would survive the sudden loss of about 2 liters of it? Furthermore how many of them had viable reproductive cells and which of the mating pairs decedents would survive against all others? These were the questions that moved in Fogg’s head as he moved through the crowds, sipping upon a mint Julep more out of image than actual taste.

The one with the blond hair speaking with the old man seemed to be an especially fine specimen…

[Shula Brighton]

Shu, give 'em hell." Smooth, jazzy, warm and full of the same brazen confidence she'd known for so long since she'd started working at Central. That was Spade through and through. It was a voice dripping with charisma that could have talked the Pope out of his soul and left the man feeling he came out with the better end of the deal. And it contrasted so heavily with "I need a drink first... I need many drinks first." Both voices were Spade, and yet, so different. Two sides of the same magick, and Shula knew them both quite well, like the magician's beautiful assistant who knew the ins and outs of each trick and was there to help him pull it off for all the world to see. Tonight Spade wasn't performing in front of everyone in the same way as herself or the Chancellor, but he still needed to perform. He was still Spade Aeries, and that wasn't an act the whole of Amestris would let go of anytime soon. And so as his faithful assistant, Shula would help him glide through the performance perfectly, covering up any slips behind him as though they were part of the show.

Soft hands with clear-painted nails cupped Spade's cheeks, forcing him to meet her face and not allowing him to look away. Words gentle and firm and meant only for him. Spade looked ready to lose it and run off into the night screaming until he found the nearest pub and lost himself until he stopped feeling it. It would be a long process; it had been a longer one for him to get to this state of constant need, years of feeding his body sweet poisons that bit him back like asps, their honeyed venom too good to let go of. Spade had been a Lotus-Eater for years, and one couldn't simply shrug off their magical haze from years over a few weeks. "No, you don't," Shula replied quietly, her thumbs brushing his cheeks. "If I could use alkahestry to detox your body from years of abuse in a few rounds for you, I would. But since I can't, I will be your support in every way you'll let me."

A rustle of fabric as a body moved. Cool hands on warm, slightly sweaty cheeks. Sun-bleached brown mingled with snow white, skin separated only by a glimmering metal tikka. Volume slipped down to a warm whisper, the kind of quiet more befitting the gardens when they were devoid of people as to not disturb the gental floral peace. "I would give my arm to be as strong as you are, Sakuya." Shula pulled away slightly, giving Spade an encouraging smile as she pressed a tiny kiss to his forehead and then looked at him again. There was a certain light in her eyes, a fire in her thoughts behind the glow of natural red as she did her best to push away her own fears and inscurities. Right now was just them. And right now her eyes held a look of promise and wanting something more. The warmth moved away from Spade's face, her hands finally slipping free of his skin as she stood back up, and brushed down her body to smooth out any wrinkles in her dress before glacing to check the time.

"The Chancellor's speech is due to start in a few minutes... You can wait here and I'll go get them, or come with me to go geth them and come back here... since I don't think he'd be too keen on any of us skipping it." Shu'd never gone to school, so she'd never known what skipping class lectures were like, but somehow the idea of skipping the Chancellor make a speech to all of them in the gardens in front of their peers and their people seemed like it wouldn't go over that well. Save playing hookey for another day, like maybe tomorrow.

[Guest]

My lord, there were so many people here! Oh! But she got to shake the Chancellors hand. Now THAT was.... awesome. She couldn't really think of any other word to describe it. “Your attire is quite acceptable, Dr. Nikita. Thank you for taking the journey down from Briggs.” Cora had to chuckle at that, giving Hans' hand a good, firm shake. "Well I'm quite glad then! I wouldn't have wanted to miss it. I'll let you get to the rest." Smiling warmly to her big boss, she let her hand slide out of his before she moved on. Yes, it would be a tragedy if she held up the line of other officers awaiting for their chance to meet their new chancellor.

But.... now what? She thought she saw Viktor towards the back of the line, but she couldn't be sure. Oh, let him enjoy the party with someone other than her for once! He should get to speak to more people anyways! Maybe it was just her, but it seemed like he really only spoke with her on a regular basis and not anyone else. As his doctor, she did NOT approve of this in the least bit! So for now, she turned her attention elsewhere, walking further into the large sphere that was above her. The small heels of her boots clicked against the floor, soon becoming muffled as they met grass. Well, well, well.... What a gem South had here! It was hard to remember that they were floating on water at this very moment in time. When one was so used to seeing white everywhere accented with the occasional brick building, one could forget just how luscious green scenes were.

Or just how varied people were. She swore, she had never seen HALF of these people ever! Some looked familiar from news reports, or the occasional file she saw, and those she did knew were stationed... at.. Briggs... Except for one. There was a rather tall and imposing man whose heavily muscled body was as distinctive as Viktors was in a crowd. He was... Oh dear, she should know his name. Just because he was a recent addition to Briggs, does not mean she had any excuse to not know a potential patients name! It was her very JOB to know their names! She couldn't just shout, "Hey you" to someone now could she? No, that was just rude. And she wouldn't stand for it anyways. It seemed that he was speaking to her boss, Reila for the moment, but as quick as the greeting was, he moved on. Now was her chance!

Stepping forward, the small doctor slid up next to him, touching him gently on the arm. "Excuse me, but you are... Jethro Black, yes? Our new second in command at Fort Briggs?" She asked with only the slightest hint of hesitancy, her puffy lips causing her to seem more unsure than she really was. Wow she really had to look up at him...Curse only being 5'4"! She held out her hand to him upon confirmation that he was indeed who she believed him to be, she brightened up, letting both hands come out of her pockets now. "My name is Dr. Cora Nikita, I'm the head doctor at Fort Briggs. I'm afraid I haven't formally met you yet, so I wanted to be sure to change that since I will be your doctor!" Cora chuckled softly as she clasped his hand firmly, giving a small shake before allowing her hand to return to her pockets. "Rather important I know my patients hm?"

[Murazar Dauthi]

Murazar had slinked off into the background, he was in his own way hiding among everyone else who was dressed their best for this speech and party. He didn't think he'd talk to anyone else tonight, it just wasn't in him anymore. Maybe he would leave after the speech was given, he didn't have time for such festivities. Well that and this was just a social event anyway. Something he wasn't inclined to do.

He wandered around before grabbing a couple glasses of some kind of strong champagne before taking a seat at a bench with a small stand that had flowers in a vase next to it. He was alone on the bench and set his several champagne bottles down before drinking from them heavily. Within minutes they were all empty and he was already feeling the effects of drunkenness taking him over. He didn't care, this was just a boring event and he felt like he was just some kind of darkness that didn't belong in this new world the Chancellor obviously thought he was creating. Poor deluded fool of a man.

He wins a popularity contest with promises and oaths that he probably will never keep. RIOTE was still out there, Takatori was out there, the old Fuhrer's were out there, they were surrounded by enemies on all sides and were weakened from total war for a few years that was exhausting them. The man had the audacity to think he could fix all of it? He was no military man, he was no logical decision makers, he was just some poor fool struggling without ever knowing he was struggling.

Murazar knew that one day the like of himself would be cast aside like a used weapon that no longer functioned. He had his own funds and safehouse's set up internationally, although mostly in Amestris and the surrounding countries he had been in. Murazar grimaced as it was apparent the man was going to give his speech soon. As his thoughts were grim and bold among the screaming of the souls in his mind he still believed he had nothing left in this world but a Homonculous who would outlive him no matter what happened, a Pacifist who was the opposite of himself, the woman he Contracted himself out to that had been burned and betrayed enough to be more cynical and broken than himself and a woman who was sick and dying and yet seemed cured now.

I'm cursed, forever alone as an eagle with great power and responsibility. Used by a woman who is used by a government that only sees me as a temporary necessity than can make her easily or with great difficulty remove me. A government who will hunt me down despite all I did for it and only because of the power I wield. A government that would rather tear down my own little guild instead of using them to bolster their own military. This will all happen because the ones in charge of us all are no longer capable of seeing such things.

He looked around, suddenly he felt like he should start smoking. Either that or drugs, something to numb all this damn pain out. He lost his own family, killed his mother, destroyed his very mind and for what? Power? A means but no end in sight? He had already forgotten why he wanted all this power? What good was it if he didn't use it for anything needed?

Suddenly he came upon a realization,I'll bring my mother back. To hell with any price. All this power should at least come in useful for something worthwhile. As soon as we're back in Briggs. It can wait until then at least. Finally a goal. Something he actually would do to break the monotony of his work and own personal studies. He leaned back into the bench. Not relaxed, but tense. He never could relax anymore. He knew this insanity of his came with a high price. A price he would accept and succeed in what he did. Failure wasn't an option. It was a goal, which meant he wasn't allowed to fail or lose.

[Guest]

"Excuse me, but you are... Jethro Black, yes? Our new second in command at Fort Briggs?" Jet turned around and looked down to see a short woman standing in front of him, hands stuffed in her pockets. She was wearing a deep purple sleeveless turtleneck, black fitted jeans, and cute boots. He smiled at the new face and nodded in response. "Brigadier General Jethro Black, at your service," he said as he bowed to her. Reaching out his hand he continued [color:9b13= midnightblue]"And you are?"

"My name is Dr. Cora Nikita, I'm the head doctor at Fort Briggs. I'm afraid I haven't formally met you yet, so I wanted to be sure to change that since I will be your doctor!" Oh, it was the Fort Briggs head doctor! He had only met a few people at his new place of employment so far, and he had meant to meet her during the party. Luck must have been on his side that night, for Mrs. Nikita had found him first. "Rather important I know my patients hm?" He chuckled lightly and smiled. "It's nice to meet you Doctor, I've been looking forward to seeing you in person. I've heard so much about you," he replied, his midnight eyes scanning the room, then returning to hers. He always keeps his guard up, partially from his position in the military, but mostly from his recent experiences in Drachma. Since the huge firefight in Moscow, security all over the country, especially in the South, escalated big time. To survive, him and Lily had to almost always look over their shoulders and be wary. It was not a fun life, but they lived and that's what's important.

Black looked over the woman before him. She was attractive, but strong, he sensed a courage in her. She was a fighter, that much was obvious. A warrior with massive medical expertise, a deadly combination. Good thing she was on their side eh? He chuckled lightly to himself about this, his smile as genuine as always. He wanted to meet all the staff and members at Briggs as soon as possible. He knew he needed to meet all these people and establish a good relationship early on, something he wished he had done better with his old staff at West City. "So how long have you been working for Briggs?" he asked.

[Reila Tsukino]

"That much I can understand. I wasn't trying to insult the country as a whole. I work for it, dammit, even if it's... well, a means to an end..." Hah, he was right; it could very well end. Reila may as well know that better than everyone. In Drachma...it seemed that more than just Amestris would end. She could only hope--only fervently kick to the surface and set her ideals in hard, cold stone--frozen and never worn, tired but never winded. "That sounds bad." No shit Spade, it sounded bad. It was just that: BAD. "Put it this way. I was born half-Amestrian, and that half is fiercely patriotic. I just... have a... distaste for politicians. Men of word, not action. Traitorous snakes when compared to the rest of us, no matter their exterior visage." Reila found herself, nodding, agreeing. She was sucked into his word, absorbed into the images of politicians shedding their suits as snakeskin, blown away in tornadoes of confidence never to be found--lies never to be uncovered. He was right; he was absolutely right and Reila had known that all along. That was the exact reason why Fort Briggs was what it was. Beyond the climate change from Central to cold, stood the great walls of Briggs. There, her word was law, corruption ran quick to the shadows, wincing at the sound of high heels on ice coated floors. Survival of the fittest and believe it, Briggs was fittest.

Ayden certainly reminded herself of herself...save for the fact that she wasn't as loose as he was. She knew what she could and couldn't do--she knew was society saw as right and what it saw as wrong. She hated killing and she hated mindless acts of violence. What had the fondue ever done to anyone? There needed to be a reason for the madness. She would never...never lift a finger in pursuit of cause unjust by her own judgement. Simple as that. Blistering green, fringed with the madness of aggression. He knew...he knew the rush of a fight and everything it brought with it. And as their eyes met, bodies moving to a meaningless tune, she saw the recognition--she saw her own eyes reflected through his. "Mindlessly obsessed? My dear General, combat is an art. Painting, composing, writing, murder; all similar in more ways than one." Art...? Reila laughed, interrupting her own silence with a sweet, feminine giggle. She couldn't accept that point of view. She could never see it as something beautiful, but not all art was beautiful. Art could be critiqued just as war could be judged. Some were grotesque--meant from there very birth to be rejected by its viewers. Yes, war was that way. She hated it--she hated it and loved it. War defined her existence because without it, peace could not be. Dualism.

"I do... occasionally overstep the mark in my indulgence, shall we say..." Hah! Exactly. So that's what type he was. Addiction. What would Reila do if suddenly war ceased? Would she lose her purpose, would she crave it? No... She would miss it--she would miss the days of being back to back with her allies and fighting by skin and teeth to reach the very top--to look over and down upon the other that didn't make it this time. And running...running from the front lines back home to live another day by some miracle--that thankful ray of sleepless nights, haunted by the faces of those that had die by the slew of her blade. No. She wouldn't miss it. Once happiness was attained, she knew that she would say the pursuit of it was much more gratifying. She felt him shudder--a barely recognizable movement she felt reverberate through he fingertips. She didn't know what it was, and he revealed nothing through his expression, leaving her only to wonder if maybe that had been remorse, excitement, or yearning... He moved closer, causing her heart to feel as if it wanted to skip a beat in its hammering. What was he--

"I do hope you're of the understanding that murder is illegal, General Tsukino. I don't mean to insinuate that you've been living under a rock for the past few decades, but...Most of what I do isn't... government-sanctioned, to put it subtly." Pffff! Well, that wasn't obvious. Living under a rock? Well, hell, he just stabbed himself in the face with that one. What was the purpose in that at all? After her confusion at the strange man spouting 'cheese man' faded, she gave Ayden a wry look. Come on, seriously? Did she look like she didn't catch on from the first time he said it? He also didn't seem to be very aware about... Ayden really did remind her of Murazar. It wasn't just the hair either. Both assassins, however, Ayden playing on the danger side. "Now, I'd like to say that I'm a vigilante."

...

Okay. ... What? "In short? I love what I do. I positively adore it."

"...Killing people?" She knew a lot of people that claimed they enjoyed killing others, but the keyword there was claimed. Reila believed whether she was naivé or not that no one actually loved killing others--taking lives--stripping people of the only means of anything... Anyone who dared claim such a thing, made her sick, but she overlooked it. For their sake, for the sake of what she did and what she ordered others to do, Reila overlooked it.

AH! She moved to the side, nearly hiding behind one of the tables. Ayden was there and suddenly he wasn't. He clapped the strange man on the shoulders and was...shushing him? Then began the GREAT SPEECH, that must at all times be in all caps or shouted...loudly like this the 'Great Speech'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "I am the spandex-wearing superhero vigilante... Cheese-Man!" Reila was now currently bent over onto the floor, choking on her own laughter. Wh-what!? Was this the same guy!? Ayden's wide, giddy grin told Reila mountains of his true persona. No, really...he was just a guy that loved to have fun. WHAT WAS WITH BOILING THE FONDUE!? Oh god, she couldn't breathe. HE KEPT GOING... It wasn't ending and he was so serious that she thought she was going to die. Oh god. Stop! She needed air...AIR!!!

"And the criminals will rise up to take Amestris once more!" ...it stopped. She sucked in a long breath of air and dragged herself to her feet, staring down Ayden just in case he planned to make her a super hero too. No, he flipped his jacket tails like a musician about to sit down at a grand piano. Where were we? Hell if she knew.

"I--"

"Good evening ma'am, you look great." Oh! A jet musta passed by. She grinned in his direction since he was already out of hearing shot and then turned back to Ayden, twirling her hair around a finger. Now it was weird to say iittt... Blah.

"I really need to get going back to Briggs, seeing as, well, you know." She frowned, suddenly looking distressed. It was clear she really didn't want to go, but had to. To protect these people, laughing and having a good time, she would sacrifice her own enjoyment. Alright. With that, she turned away slightly, taking a few steps. "If you ever want to transfer to Briggs...be sure to let me know." Not that she wanted to steal people from Spade, but honestly, Ayden was going to get caught sooner or later. A loose canon like that in Central was just a disaster waiting to happen especially with Spade Aeries...ugh. "See you!" She waved with a smile, all the while telling herself to keep it up. If she were to reveal her dreary demeanor within view of pretty much anyone, she felt she would lose.

Walking to the exit made her feel like a test rat, romping all around a maze until finally-- She looked to her left and met Mura's eyes. W-what? She bent down to his level, shedding a sunshine smile. "Hey there," she tried to say brightly, patting him on the shoulder. "Hard at work?" Okay, it was a bad joke, but she was trying. Trying done. Why did she need to pretend in front of him? Really...he had no idea of her feelings even if she handed them to him on a freaking golden platter. She wished that one day...maybe he would. "Drink one for me." Her voice was devoid of emotion by the time she finished, some of the smile dripping away into a little selfishness. Then she left--back to Briggs where she would spend the rest of forever waiting sleepless days for Drachma to invade.

[EXIT THREAD]

[Spade Aeries]

"No, you don't." What? His eyes widened and everything stopped. It just...stopped. No? He didn't? He...what? It was as if nothing else existed anymore except those quietly spoken words. Shu's voice, a torrent of something he didn't want to hear--a rainstorm without an umbrella. Wet, cold--vicious cycles of yes, yes, and yes turned into a word that meant rejection--that meant that he couldn't. No, no, he hadn't! He hadn't. That was why--was why... Spade stared into space, mind thoroughly in shock. It was like drowning, he thought, plunging deeper until hitting your head against the bottom of the pool because you thought that was up. It wasn't and it's too late!! Was...it too late? He had never thought of needing. That...was the first time he said it and meant--the first time he had ever just...stopped drinking. He hadn't stopped drinking for any particular reason. Booze was sold out in Central--was for a while. He eventually ran out and thought nothing of it; Shu made him forget about it all. South had beer, but he never bought any. And his last pack of Lucky Sevens was his last pack of anything, smoked it all on the balcony of Shu's place. Yeah, he was so empty now that he was so full of everything else. He knew the real reason behind the alcohol...and it wasn't Shirley. She didn't deserve the honor of being why he drank like a fish out of water.

"If I could use alkahestry to detox your body from years of abuse in a few rounds for you, I would. But since I can't, I will be your support in every way you'll let me." It hit him like a brick to the face--all scrapey and bloody. It was something any person would cringe at hearing...because it reminded them of the current state of the shell they were currently inhabiting. Well, Spade wasn't a fucking hermit crab; he couldn't just ditch and find something prettier. He did it to himself and already faced the fact that he would die young. So what? He lived on the danger side. That was before he had met Shu. Then, he hadn't thought that life could throw anything else at him that had any worth. Spade didn't need a reason to live, but now he had one... He had one that would support him just like that. She didn't judge him for what he did; she just accepted the mess that he was as he was. If only he could show her...what it was like being him. Noticing every little thing that was everywhere. But all he could see right now was her--her and just her. Her and everything that was her exploding in one moment of Shula Brighton and nothing less. Fuck.

"I would give my arm to be as strong as you are, Sakuya." He swallowed his heart, nearly choking on it one its way down. His eyes slid closed and he sucked in a deep, slow breath through his nose. Strong? ...Sakuya? It was too much for him to handle. Since when was he strong? He couldn't face this--he couldn't deal with the onslaught of details like he used to. Being drunk all the time allowed him the release of not having to. So why... No, you know what this was? This was a trick! She was complimenting him in order to get him to nod and smile, saying 'damn straight I am strong'. Next thing you know, he'd be believing it. Or...or was it? Girls...he used to know girls, how they worked. But it was getting more complicated than girls. Shu...what was she? What are you!? What was this?! ...What...just...what?! Before he knew it, she released him and planted a small kiss on his forehead as if implanting alien knowledge into his already sputtering brain. GIVE ME A BREAK! He was done. Spade Aeries was just so done life that--

"The Chancellor's speech is due to start in a few minutes... You can wait here and I'll go get them, or come with me to go get them and come back here... since I don't think he'd be too keen on any of us skipping it." It felt as though he had forgotten everything in that short time. Despite her not holding his face in place any longer, his eyes were permanently glued to hers for all eternity. Who was them? Come with her where? Chancellor's speech? Ahhhh it was all bleeding together like washing a palette free of paint. All he knew anymore was Shu and the fact that he didn't need a drink. He felt brainwashed, empty...devoid of everything he ever was. Who...who was he!? Oh shit. Spade lifted the sunglasses off his face and blinked at her stupidly. Was...he supposed to respond to that or something? He hadn't responded at all. Where was the smooth lady-killer now? He wanted to slam his face into a real brick now, no, a brick wall. He deserved as much.

"Nah, 'm gunna head out. I'll meetcha back at yer place." Spade pushed off from the table, walking a few steps from her, but stopped. He wanted to stay--to be with her and support to--to let the fire burn into his eyes for the fallen, but...it wasn't his style anyway. Another moment here, and he was sure that he would either drown in drink or lose his mind--what left there was of it. Spade turned his head slightly, groomed hair falling over his shoulder. He gave her a wild smile, lips skewed crookedly with a dark look flashing through his jade eyes that said don't stop me. "Worry not, Polaris, I won't touch anything." He did walk on the danger side after all.

[EXIT THREAD]

[Dai]

Hm. It was at about this time that the man of red hair felt himself slightly confused. Closing eyes that matched shades with hair, he began to think this through. This man, this Chancellor, he was supposed to lead them into a new age of peace, correct? Shaking his head and rapping fingers upon his chin, the man with little more than peaceful thoughts took a step forwards and into the light. Quietly clucking his tongue, he got to thinking about the state of the world as it stood. Daigoro Ito was a man who knew only three major things: War, Love and Peace. Everything else in his world branched off of that. First, one would have to consider the idea of "War". In Daigoro's world, War was his career. These people around him were his colleagues; workmates in this world. He profited off of War, even if he despised it. As he thought about War further, he started to see other parts to it. Survival, Sadness, Loss. They came about because War was a part of his World. However, he had to also attribute War to another part of his life; Love.

Love was the biggest thing in Daigoro's world right now. Even without trying, he felt his eyes slowly tracking through the crowds until they landed upon the woman with pink hair, curled. He hadn't seen her before she'd gotten it done, so it was quite new to him. Suited her. His eyes would do that without fail, every time. Just seeing her made his heart soar; hearing her voice was something that he couldn't ignore. It was for that reason that he had to remember this. Even if War and Peace were a part of this world of existence that was Daigoro Ito, Reila Tsukino and their Love made up the greatest foundations of that world. It had happened once before; he had lost her. He'd lost her, and everything had just crumbled around him. He'd cried himself to sleep whilst in Creta, though that was only on nights that he was actually able to sleep. His world had changed for the worse and he had thought it would never end. Every day had been a world of pain and suffering, ones that Daigoro had thought he'd deserved. He'd been forced to work for the enemy, working towards a future that he knew he'd regret. His moment of selfishness that had turned into stupidity. Daigoro Ito could not be a truly selfish being; if he took from someone, he could never handle the ramifications of his actions.

So, he had suffered. Over a period of months, he had suffered, not at the hands of others, but of his own mind. He knew that she was out there, that she didn't remember him. He knew that he was here, a traitor to Fort Briggs, likely never to return. Reila would've found someone else, he would be redundant. Even if she got her memories back he would never be her's again. These had always run through his mind while in Creta. But then, he'd returned. They had started off building up a friendship again. They'd gotten to Drachma and finally reunited. That was when the final blocks in his mind had shattered; Daigoro Ito finally became himself once more--a quiet, thoughtful, caring man. Stepping out and watching Reila leave, he couldn't help but chuckle quietly. From War, he had gained Love. From Love, he would gain Peace, the part of his world that he dreamed for, yet... Was Peace going to make his life better, or worse? That was something he'd question for a long time. Slowly turning towards the same exit, Daigoro nodded to himself. He didn't feel like staying for much longer; it would be too much of a bother for him to do so. Instead, he would leave. He would leave, return to Briggs, do his job once more. So, Daigoro Ito turned and started to leave.

He was never good in crowds in the first place.

[Thread LEFT]

[Guest]

"Captain Green, the colonel wishes to speak with you." he had heard those words. Yes, he had unmistakenably heard them issued from the . . . Sergeant, unless his eyes deceived him. SOOO, he knew very well he had to go see the Colonel as quickly as possible, but. Just as he heard that the Colonel wishes to speak with him (no doubt to question the progress from that incident, last week), the nice little earpiece of his starting ringing with alarms and cries for assistance.

Something along the lines of, 'we have rioters outside,' 'some guests are in a drunken rage' and 'Blahbity-blah-blah, we're impotent cocksuckers that like to whine, that's why we're on the radio even though the situation's COMPLETELY UNDER CONTROL.' For cripes' sake, who were all these people giving off the chatter? South's security force wasn't as impressive as the other major cities in Amestris, true, but they were hardly incompetent. Alas, he had to answer to his duties of slapping them around with a rock-hard cod until they began crying about being smacked with a smelly, stiffening fish and started doing their damn jobs.

"Pardon me, need to go freeze some asshole's faces off before I can talk to the Colonel." he mutters, immediately turning around and taking off. Oh, how things were going to be fun tonight. Well, the drunken guests issue he couldn't take care of, it was well-known in South that he was mildly psychotic with a case of kleptomania. If he went to go take care of that, he'd beat the guests in question (no matter how important they were) to near-death then rob them of all their valuables. Or maybe he'd rob them of their valuables, use those to beat them to near-death and the carry their corpse to sell their organs in th-

Wait, focus. That wasn't what concerned him. What was concerning was that the Chancellor would begin his speech, and that there were obviously people who objected to his new leadership, even though this was just a god-damn party. Seriously? They just took down a whole pack of armed Aerugese rabble, and now there were others complaining? Unfortunately for them he had all his weapons short of the assault rifle, and thanks to Santa Claus's horrific gift of a coloring book he also had his circles at the ready. Who knew coloring books of famous, common or ancient transmutation circles could give you inspiration to finish yours, huh? Go figure. Any how, off to go boil or freeze some heads, Greene went with a sort of merry glee.

You could tell he was cheery to go beat the utmost crap out of people! HE WAS SMILING AND WHISTLING A MERRY TUNE.

Oh, and he also passed by the Chancellor, who had still had a number of people about him, introducing themselves. Greene wasn't much into politics and preferred to just let that system run its course for the country, but an opportunity to greet the man-in-charge wasn't all too bad. So, while his attention was needed outside, that path was past the Chancellor, and well. The Captain decided to just be formal and polite about it before needing to run.

"Captain Dachen Greene of South Forces, Head of Defense here. Good evening to you, Chancellor Reinhardt. Now, pardon me. Minor disturbance outside, but it'll be dealt with." he did not shake hands. No, there were still some people around him that were doing that already. Instead, Greene first saluted the man in charge to begin with and then bowed as he made his apologies. It wasn't much longer that the Captain was now treading outside to go shoot stab ANNIHILATE detain some people.

-
Intermission of violence, ten minutes later.
-

Regretfully, the health of the rioters was no longer assured. Well, they were alive, that's the important part. All of them were alive. A number of them had scalding water thrown in their faces, a few others got to experience minor frostbite, the rest were told to get out or he would shoot them (while holding out the damned revolver). Most amusing about the threatening part was that he hadn't even loaded his gun with any bullets, since one) he didn't feel like actually killing them, two) bullets for this thing were pricy and three) the gun alone was enough to just intimidate them, since he could probably beat them to death with it if he wanted to.

'Ahhhhh. That was more refreshing than I imagined it to be . . .' was the only thought he had, while the injured rioters who were clearly not Aerugese were sent to closest hospitals and those who were Aerugese (and had not run off) were sent to the cells with the 'terrorists' from earlier. And it was repeated again, as he bothered not to repeat what the Brigadier General had told him, which was to hold off on interrogating them. N'aw, he just told the fellows dragging more Aerugese punks with them to do what they like to the vermin, so long as they didn't physically injure them. And if there was something that a number of men in South's Defense and Security departments had, it was a knack for psychological torture, so ha ha ha. They all must've had great teachers at some point, since Greene himself was more inclined to a brutal line of interrogation, usually threatning to hack off a limb and use that to beat the idiot in question to death with it and meeting incredulous remarks with a knife to the shoulder.

But, enough of that. Fun could only stay that way for so long, now he was drifting behind the Sergeant who was drifting behind the Colonel who was talking to a rich businessman, or something like that. Conversation stopping was not his talent, nor his preferred method of talking to someone. But, then again, due to skin and hair, he did get ignored a lot . . . eh, not that it bothered him too much. In the end, all pains dealt to him were to be dealt back twofold, somehow or other.

[Guest]

"If you ever want to transfer to Briggs... be sure to let me know." Hm. That was... an option. A pathway. The General, her movements, analysed, projected... she was enjoyable. He knew they didn't see eye-to-eye, and most likely wouldn't ever do so; but she'd served him, on a fine, adorned platter, the most deliciously appetising deal he'd ever get. Fillet steak as opposed to the hunk of rump he was slowly perusing before he tucked into the main 'meat' of it all. His talent had been recognised. A surge of warmth flooded into him and he grinned.

Finding a bench, Ayden sat atop it, thinking to himself. Blue irises and silver hair swaying, swinging, as the assassin stared off into the middle-distance, he analysed it some more. He'd never expected his defeat to be as triumphant as this... but it was tactics. A minor success on her part had lead, in turn, to the sowing of a seed of a great friendship, and further job opportunities; he knew he was closing in on a promotion. Even so, despite his working at Central having so far only lasted a few months... well... the assassin knew himself. He knew he was a man of quality over quantity; a fine meal was art by any other name. Tantalising. That was the word. It would sear his tastebuds with sheer flavour amongst all else, unbearable, orgasmic... he knew the creed of Northern soldiers. Men and women with tough exteriors, despite what they contained within the shell; the fittest survived. A motto he could see himself easily adjusting to and playing with.

Images, videos, flickering before his eyes, began to form and take shape. This could be the beginning of something great; he'd have far more activity in Briggs. There would be none of this bother, no screwing around with Furor or Aeries. He'd get a job where his ability - both militant and alchemical - would be made use of as a unique asset, and constantly pressed, developed, and tested. It would be tiring; exhausting, perhaps. He'd take a detour on the way up to North. Seemed like the best idea... but the man was exuberant. The joy shimmered across cerulean irises as he let the tiniest of sighs escape, matting down the accumulated specks of dust.

He'd enjoyed himself tonight. Far more than he ever thought he would; it was occasions like this that Ayden felt to be one of the only times he enjoyed being proven wrong, the only times he enjoyed defeat. Sure, tactics had been in place, and he had contingency plans - which great warrior didn't? - as well as the employing of advanced psychological measures, but his opinions had been shared and... appreciated, just for what they were. Reila Tsukino was a woman of no bullshit, someone who appreciated prowess and skill. Ayden was a man of complex, refined tastes... but when you're on the battlefield, blood is blood. Cordite and smoke stings the eyes and nose; the adrenaline pumps and doesn't stop until the moment you stumble, exhausted, to the field tents.

So far, the columns had what seemed to be no disadvantages or negative aspects. The choice seemed to be in his best, and most active interests. Pain and pleasure would go hand in hand; he'd carve a beautiful crimson swath through the soldiers and let their life essence spill upon the blankets of snow. He'd seen a lot of snowfall these past few months... but still, a sight of a totally white scene was idyllic, to him. Picturesque. There was something that showed him that it was a newborn image; fresh, plain, almost rebirthed in its blankness. Just waiting, a clear canvas for Ayden to leave his mark upon.

And, by God, would he leave a mark when he was done.

Mountains of North firmly set in his mind, and images of fallen, torn, hewn, shredded, utterly destroyed enemy soldiers, Drachman or otherwise, the silver-haired azure-eyed assassin let another two successive sighs escape his pursed pale lips to form a triumvirate of the especially surprising noises; Ayden was not, and had never been, a man of regret. Your decisions and opinions are your guns; they are what you take with you through your life. Your weaponry. What you have to put to your name. And as the age-old adage had always gone and will forever go, 'stick to your guns'. Ayden smirked. He could appreciate that saying, in manners both literal and metaphorical.

Starlight shimmered through curved panes of glass, penetrating the sphere. Ayden stared through the tinted surfaces up unto the heavens, and recalled his time here with General Brighton; it was truly a sight to behold. He had just been on the cusp of another alchemical discovery; he never expected he'd be returning to be greeted with a smile such as this.

He knew he'd sleep well tonight, even if he stayed on the road for his journey up to North; he wouldn't trouble Spade with this issue. He knew the man had no heart for paperwork; perhaps it would be his final gift. He knew Briggs would have much for him, and hold fresh experiences. Fresh experiences which would develop him not only as a warrior and an assassin, but as a person. He'd seen the confusion twinkling in the young General's golden eyes; she couldn't come to grips with his mannerisms and thoughts, his true realisations. That was fine. If she could appreciate it, that was an advance enough for him; she was one of a handful. If she could let him go about his business, freelance, and, maybe once or twice, if the necessity came around, for the wellbeing of the Fort, then... that would be absolutely excellent. His art was of paramount importance; after all, a sword not swung rusts. A clock not used stops. A guitar not played fades. His ability had to be strained, practised, tested, developed; he was fluid, an ever-changing, ever-developing shape. Flexible and acrobatic in every definition of the words. Briggs was full of fine warriors; he knew he'd uncover new techniques and tricks that he'd put to use there. Hell, maybe he'd even add a few things to his arsenal.

Slowly, the man stood to his feet, time itself blurring and dilating around him. He strained, stretching his entire body, arching his spine inwards as he felt energy tickle through him once more, pushing out to his mortal, fleshy constraints; pushing against his fingertips. The exercise, the honing... it was keeping him fit, and energised. He enjoyed this. It was a standard; the bar had been set extraordinarily high, and if he didn't conform, he would lapse into, as he had said, withdrawal.

The man's neck snapped towards the exit and silvery hair followed. Azure eyes locked on a point of leaving, and, slowly, the assassin calmed, blinked, surveyed the room, the air thick with bullshit, a layer of the very substance laying over the top, as if all were ignoring it or he was in possession some variety of bullshit-detecting goggles; the politicians were still dancing, perusing the buffet table, lining up to give their false statements to Hans. Ayden shook his head and chuckled once more; it was despicably stupid. Spineless cowards, they were. Spineless cowards who dabbled in trickery and sorcery, never bothering with one of the more elite and defined sciences, less of speech and more of alchemy.

With a brisk pace, he began towards the exit. Grinning like a child still, his eyes were wide with sheer happiness, exuberance. He'd sleep like a newborn tonight. His fears were alleviated, and his heart churned and pumped fresh crimson around his body even now as he simply thought of the opportunities this presented, the branches, the paths... he hadn't even considered it before.

Ayden knew he was going to enjoy this. A long path yet laid ahead of him; and slowly but surely, it was building to a number of monumental, life-changing events. That was certain. Eventually, the winding dark trail would perhaps brush with redemption... there was solace and hope in the man yet, a sliver of golden light that could emerge to become a code feelings for those other than himself. A seed planted in him by a certain young Xingese woman that would grow to be an immortal orchid of morality, the pair compromising and trying to find a middle-ground, it would seem. Very little was known or pre-defined; but the man was building to create a life like a pyramid, reaching a spike, a protrusion... a point at the top.

And at that point... at that point would come an atomic, nuclear conclusion.

[EXIT THREAD]

[Guest]

"Brigadier General Jethro Black, at your service," Oh excellent, she had been right. Well, she had been pretty damn positive about it already, but still, hearing confirmation was always good. She was also happy to see that he hadn't minded her informality of just saying his name as opposed to name and rank. So many people could get their panties in a twist over it. Oh well, no matter. It was time to get to know this man! His easy smile and friendly demeanor was quite calming, making it easy for her to feel less awkward about spontaneously speaking to him like this. It didn't matter that spontaneity was one of her specialties, there was always some hidden underlying sense of awkward. Or maybe she was over analyzing herself again. Hah! She was a doctor after all? Oh my, he even bowed to her before shaking her hand! Now THAT was some class right there!

What also was keeping her at ease, was how he didn't seem to question her youthful appearance against her ph d. It was always refreshing to find someone who didn't look at you dumbly, and ask, 'just how old are you?' THAT could get old pretty quickly. "It's nice to meet you Doctor, I've been looking forward to seeing you in person. I've heard so much about you," He had? "A pleasure to be sure. I hadn't realized you had!" It was her turn to chuckle slightly, wondering just what exactly he must have heard. Probably the usual run down when hearing about others that you were stationed with. She had the advantage of getting to read everyone's medical file (and psych file to an extent) so she knew them well biologically speaking. So when she saw him glance about the sphere for a quick moment, her expression didn't change and she continued to watch him calmly. He... seemed to have been through quite a lot since Drachma. Or at least, she could imagine as much considering he had suddenly returned. His medical files probably hadn't been updated quite yet. She should change that once they got back to Briggs. They would be seeing a lot more of each other now after all.

He hardly seemed the worse for wear though which was always excellent to see. That war had been rather... hairy. Nasty bit of business really. Even she hadn't fully let some things go just yet, and she still hadn't found any kind of comfort for Nika either much to her shame. She would find a way to at the very least alleviate her newfound deafness dammit! But back to the matters at hand for her new comrade was chuckling. Just what had he found amusing hm? This brought a smirk to Cora's lips, sliding her hands back into the front pockets of her black pants. "So how long have you been working for Briggs?" Oh boy... "Hrm... thats a good question. As remote as some people believe it is, time does seem to fly by there at times..." She began, having to take a moment to really ponder her answer. "I've only been there I think..... 4 months? Maybe 6? Not quite a year yet, I know that. I think I'll go with a while." Heh, hey, part of an answer was better than none right? Chuckling, the young doctor shrugged lightly as she tilted her head to one side, her short black hair tilting with her. "So why did you choose to transfer to Briggs? Why not Central or South? I do realize Central has more than enough folk, but still." She was genuinely curious, much like people were of her when they found out she chose to go to Briggs herself. But that was also because.... Oh her sister... She hadn't spoken to her in a while.. What if she was here right now? No, knowing her she had probably already said her hello and gone back to work. Oh she didn't know. What she should be focusing on was her new companion, Jet.

[Guest]

Her humming and murmuring didn't go for long. The captain who excused himself before for a glorious business of shutting up some ungrateful voices only to send those who share the same blood to that place always clad in white to heal as for others hell waited them.

She was not able to drink her mango fresh juice that she took from a waiter's serving plate only to leave it with someone's else serving plate that of the same profession. She paid the tower of ishal a military salute but words didn't leave her lips. She assumed that he was waiting for his turn since the colonel is currently occupied speaking with the old relic.

However she who took the mantle of a predator in that turbulent vast sea that is her life felt that there were eyes fixed on her and observing. She looked around taking advantage of her slow motion trick with her crimson orbs shifting between here and there and at last there he was.

Tower of Pisa. Another tower in a festival full of towers be in achievements, height or both. He was clad in black too but of a different nature for his attire resembled that of aerugese origins. He would observe that she is now looking at his eyes and he would observe too that she is coming for him.

Two or three steps away. Her eyes would see the following, a silky mid-night strands of hair and a white skin chin. His hat shaded his feral eyes and most of his black mane as well and she noted from both afar and close that was visible of his two feet were inhuman. However her ears told her more, told her that beneath this kimono lies either a flesh nightmare or a machine utopia

She saluted Sergeant Angelika Arnwald. in the same time introduced herself then she offered her right hand for a handshake with a cheerful smile on her face May I have the honor of knowing your name ? Yes, she wanted to know who was observing her, eventually why he did that and certainly she wanted to see his hands.

Behold, herr Doktor, Captain Gabriel fogg. For in front of you is a fallen angel and a possible ally.

[Guest]

Jet could tell she had noticed his gentlemanly attitude and smiled. Most people took one look at him, especially when in his armour, and thought him to be a brute, mean and cruel. Yet if the got to know him, he was a very nice young man with a big heart. "I was once part of noble family back in Creta before the hostile takeover of the throne by Dietrich. I was sent here by my family when I was young, but the manners never went away," he said, his deep laugh resonating through the hall. He got a few strange looks for the sudden burst of laughter, but he didn't care. Black liked this woman, she was intriguing.

"Sorry, I'm sure you aren't here for a history lesson Doctor. We were talking about you!" he continued, his smile now a care free grin. "So only a few months huh? From what I've heard it sounded much longer than that. I've read your file as well, you're a strong warrior and a brilliant medic. A strange combination in a woman so young, but that's great!" he exclaimed, obvious happiness in his eyes. He was very young for his level and position in the military, so to find someone similar to him was somewhat exciting. "I can tell you have passion in your work, that's hard to find these days. With war shadowing the world, people like you will make the difference." He smiled brightly at this, knowing he may be talking to much.

"I apologize, I suppose I just get excited when I meet interesting new people," he said, chuckling afterwards. She was so curious, so light hearted and kind. Traits hard to find in most military women. They would be good friends, Jet could see that. Their similarities were many, and both seemed to get along well. Of course it would always be good to meet the doctor who will probably save his life in the future, and perhaps even be doing his psych evals as well. After what he'd been through, they were mandatory, and he agreed to their necessity. It had been rough surviving in Drachma and losing those good men, he needed the help and support. Who better than a good friend and doctor right? Jet's midnight blue eyes sparkled in the lights of the room, genuine goodness filling them. They would be good friends, Cora and Jet. He just knew it!

"So why did you choose to transfer to Briggs? Why not Central or South? I do realize Central has more than enough folk, but still." Jet leaned on the nearby wall and swear he felt it move slightly. He wasn't THAT big. He shrugged it off and thought about her question. Why had he chosen Briggs of all places? Was it Reila? Was it their reputation? The more he thought about, the more obvious it became. "I suppose I felt I could help the most there, not to mention most of my old men from West City were transferred to Briggs after it was shut down. The Lt. General offered me the job when I returned, and I knew it was fate showing me where to go," he replied, looking straight into her eyes. He was curious to see her reaction.

[Shula Brighton]

There were so few occasions the Great Spade Aeries looked completely lost, even with his good looks, charming personality and shades on his person. Even decked out as the peak of how a suave man should look, the desperation in little pools of jade had been totally replaced with something blank and devoid of all though, like a blackboard washed with soapy water to remove all the chalky residue of thought. With that look in his eyes Shula half-wondered if she put her ear to his if she'd hear the ocean. She looked at him for a moment, wondering if he'd respond, if he'd stay or go, if he even knew what language to answer her in right now; for the look he was giving her he might have forgotten all words in all languages he knew and would have to then resort to pantomime. Finally, words came as he managed to push up off the table to stand.

"Nah, 'm gunna head out. I'll meetcha back at yer place." Aw... While a bit of a let-down, Shu understood; hell, if she could get drunk, with this many people around her? She'd be dive-bombing for a few glasses of champagne herself. But memorial services and political flair had never been Spade's style, and being so overwhelmed... it was better for him to remove himself from the source of temptation for now. Little steps. Spade took a few steps away before looking over his shoulder at her, flashing her the type of crooked grin she knew so well. "Worry not, Polaris, I won't touch anything." Finally a sincere smile moved back to her own lips as she nodded at him. She'd see him later, and he promised to behave. That was good enough for her for--

Oh crap, time! Speechy thingy here and she'd promised to give Acra and csilla a tour and the speech was in a few minutes and craaaaaaap! She'd told Acra to go check out the Zen garden, so he should be there, logically. Two gorgeous blondes, a wheelchair and a butler- how hard could they be to find? Wait, shit; most of the guests here were pure Amestrian, meaning most of them were blonde. So it would become a game of Where's Waldo: Evening Gown Edition. Normally she could spint across her garden to get from here to the Zen garden pretty quickly but fucking hell could they have crammed any more people into this Grand Galloping Gala?

Shula bobbed and weaved through the crowds skillfully and politely, years of dancing combining with evasive maneuvers she never thought she'd use outside of sparring for hand-to-hand combat merging into something strange and useful, the Ishvallan finally starting to cope with a situation she'd never dealt with in an environment she designed: extreme socialization. There were many tiny "Hello's," "Namaste's," and even a few heavily accented "Hallo's" in her painfully butchered Cretan to the few coworkers she knew spoke it fluently enough to make faces when she tried to mimic it. SERIOUSLY how the hell did Spade, Hans, or anyone who'd been important for a long time DEAL with this sort of thing? No wonder celebrities were skinny- social gatherings were an endurance test! With tiny wings attached to her flats, Shula finally made it to the connector path and hopped across the little slope into the Zen Garden. There were a few guests milling about chatting about nothing aaaaaand

Acra, Csilla and Wallace. Admiring the koi pond. Ah, perfect! The fabric of Shu's sari swished lightly, her bracelets jingling as she almost bounced to them. "Hey guys, found you!" Like hide and seek, but with less hiding and more seeking and cocktails. Shula beamed brightly, no hints of nervousness reflecting in her eyes or smile. She had this. Totally. Her arms once again wrapped around each of them with a soft squeeze. "Sorry that took me a bit longer than expected. The Chancellor's speech is in a few minutes, so I figured we could head that way, and after the lighting I'll give you both a tour so we have time to go through all the spheres." Shula took anothe rlook around the Zen garden, breathing in its total tranquility. The fish were so calming, and totally didn't care about the party at all, the politics, nothing. Someone had lit incense at the small shrine, and the speakers at the roots of the small trees were playing very nice piano pieces. Too bad she couldn't just finish the circle and light it all the way from here. It was nice here; apart from the rangoli sphere, this was her favourite.

Silvery-white hair shook the thought away like tendrils of incense smoke as Shula's hands reached down to take Acra's and Csilla's, squeezing both, mostly just to keep her own nerves totally calm and peaceful and not panicking at all. Noooooope not in the slightest, not with the way she was smiling at her best friends. They were still there, and she wasn't going to make an ass of herself, and then they'd tour the gardens, dance, try the little cheesy crunchy things on crackers with the little pink balls on them and it'd all be good. "So, anyone else feel like we're off to see the Wizard here?" She let out a soft laugh with only the faintest hints of nervousness, walking her friends out of the Zen garden sphere and back to the connector toward the main sphere. It was funny that it took less time to get back to where she'd started than to where she'd wound up, but that was okay. People were gathering around, quieting their gossip and chatter, waiting for their Chancellor to speak.

[Hans L. Reinhardt]

“It is good to meet you finally Chancellor, I am quite pleased to see that after all these years, the people have come to their senses about hiring a man actually capable of running this country. You may not know who I am, sadly many do not any longer perhaps do to my own social neglect. I am Aldrich von Konig, former state alchemist and current CEO of Konig Industries. I would like it to be known that as the founder and spokesman for my company, we shall make every endeavor to help in the rebuilding of Amestris towards a brighter, better tomorrow.”

Hans felt even taller and larger than normal, staring down at the old man in the wheelchair. He must be ancient! Hans quickly caught himself from this almost childlike thought, shaking the man's hand. “I am happy to meet a former state alchemist, sir. And I gratefully accept your help in the rebuilding of our beautiful home.” As Hans withdrew his hand he felt a weight in it. As Aldrich rolled away he glanced down to see a folded piece of paper and some business cards. He would have to peruse these later, however, because he was almost through the line! In fact... it was EMPT-... wait.

“Captain Dachen Greene of South Forces, Head of Defense here. Good evening to you, Chancellor Reinhardt. Now, pardon me. Minor disturbance outside, but it'll be dealt with.”

Disturbance? Oh, goodness. He really hoped it wasn't anything too serious. He saluted back at the man, nodding his head. “Good to meet you, Captain. Don't let me keep you, do your duty.” The captain was gone quickly, leaving Hans alone with his wife. He smiled down at her, leaning to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Well, here it goes. The big part of the night.” Brigitte squeezed his arm as she looped her hand through, resting it on his elbow. “You'll do wonderfully, Viky.” Hans heaved a sigh and smiled. He hoped he would. He wasn't exactly looking part to chastising his entire country in his speech, but... serious times called for serious measures. Hans moved through the crowd towards the small podium that had been set up in front of the entrance to the largest sphere. Brigitte left his side, going to stand amongst the crowd that was gathering. The music playing over the speakers hushed as Hans stood at the podium. Taking a deep breath, he looked around the room at his people. Then he spoke, his face serious and his tone almost condemning.

“Look at us. A great gathering of the people of Amestris and where does everyone stand? Each with their own. Are we all too afraid to mingle with those who are different than us? Can lowly citizen not mingle with high-ranking officials? Must we all be so scared of each other?” Hans shook his head, placing a hand down firmly on the podium. He felt the room go completely silent, some people looking down... almost ashamed. “ Now is not the time to appear divided. War and terrorist attacks have done that well enough. We do not need to give the rest of the world the privilege of mocking us in our misery. There is a reason we were attacked. The strongest fall the furthest.” He sighed, his tone quieting. Rather than condemning he spoke with regret and with promise. “And we have fallen low. It is time to rise from the ashes of our ruined country and prove that we are still strong. It is time to prove that we can survive. I will do what is necessary to make our home whole again.” He clenched his fist, looking around the room as he spoke again. “And any who oppose this, whether they be foreign or here in this very room, will be stopped. The time for leniency is over. Many of our people have shed their blood for this country. And they will not be the last, sadly. Danger still exists that threaten our very existence. Any and all who threaten our people's security will be taken down.” Again, his voice changed. He spoke with hope and with fervor, filled with love for his country. “We are a nation built around a strong military and held up by stronger citizens. We are few now, when we used to be many. That is no reason to be any less than what we are. We are Amestris. We are brave. We are resolute. And we will succeed. Do not let those who died, die in vain. We will honor their lives they laid down for us and we will make Amestris whole. Alchemist and soldier, politician and citizen. We all have a great responsibility ahead of us. Let us not disappoint.” He stepped away from the podium, his face calm. Polite clapping filled the sphere that gradually became more enthusiastic. The people had realized their errors and were ready to make the change; they were ready to unite under a common banner. With a small smile, he gestured to his wife and to Shula. He allowed both of them to rest their hands on his upper arms, ready to escort them. He turned and faced the largest sphere, the rope that had been serving as a barrier now gone. He walked in, the masses slowly following. The garden was dimly lit with flickering electric tea lights (Hans didn't want to risk too many open flames in such a garden.) The riches of the largest sphere were hinted at by the light but the massive circle of darkness in the center was their goal. A rope barrier separated the earthenware bowl from the rest of the garden. Hans stopped at the end of the barrier, near where a ladder stood. He watched with a small smile as the people gathered quietly, this time standing as one, rather than as small groups. As the last person entered the garden, soft music began to play over the speakers again. The song was meant to be mournful but also a glimmer of light, shining in through the dark past to light the way into the future.



Hans gently squeezed Shula's hand, giving her a quick smile of reassurance. Brigitte moved to one side, looking a little sad as she did so. Hans gently reached into his suit coat, pulling out a pressed white daisy. He looked down at it, speaking over the music. Those his voice was quiet compared to his speech, it was still heard by all the people. “We've all lost someone very dear to us in this struggle. Family, friend, compatriot. Everyone feels loss. Let us find solace together. Let us honor their deaths, and celebrate their lives.” He felt his own eyes shimmer with tears. His little Liese... He gently rubbed a petal of the flower between his fingers, staring down at the object in his hand like it was his last link to his baby girl. No... not his baby. His girl had been growing up, when tragedy had cut her life short, far too soon. It hadn't even been a year. He had said goodbye to her so many times already... but it never got any easier. He needed to lay her to rest with the rest of the people who had lost their lives. They all needed to rest. And those who were still alive needed to rebuild. Hans crossed the barrier with Shula, gently giving her a hand to the platform the bowl rested on. Hans pressed the flower into her hand once she was safely up; he had a feeling she would know what to do with it. He stepped back across the barrier, moving to stand with Brigitte, who was quietly crying. He slipped his arm around his wife, bowing his head with the rest of the congregation in a moment of silence for the dead. The music was the only noise to be heard across the room as each person thought to someone they had lost. All that remained was to light the eternal flame.

[Theo Chulainn]

She blushed and flustered and Acra couldn't help but chuckle. "Girls never reveal their secrets, Acra. Goodness gracious, you should know that.” He smiled softly looking down a little. "All to well....." He sighed softly. Shula never answered his question. Or much really...He had poured his heart and soul to her and yet no answer had been given. Only told that he should rest....or a badly timed punch from his brother. Frick the scar on his lip still hurt.

He rested back in the chair and as he was about to ask Csillia about how her latest work had been going the lady of the hour walked over. "Hey guys, found you!" Her arms wrapped round his shoulders once more and he caught her hand before she pulled away to kiss it softly. "Sorry that took me a bit longer than expected. The Chancellor's speech is in a few minutes, so I figured we could head that way, and after the lighting I'll give you both a tour so we have time to go through all the spheres."

"I look foreword to it." He smiled softly as she took his hand. He smiled to her "Keep calm and carry on." He spoke the well known cretan catch phrase to her. "So, anyone else feel like we're off to see the Wizard here?" He chuckled and leaned back. " If only I had a brain....Lead the way Dorothy." He chuckled and lent back in the chair.

The perks of his wheelchair was that people got out of there way quickly and he could get the best seats. He gave Shula's hand an encouraging squeeze before she left with Hans.

The speech was beautiful and he bowed his head. He felt shame for being here now. For surving when many had died. He had been pulled out from the rubble and death and carried back. He had died at Briggs but came back. He had slept for months yet awoke and returned. And soon he would start the sessions of Alkahestry to return his body back to its fitness.

' Forgive me my comrades in arms.... I didn't mean to live when you died. There were people far more deserving to a second chance then I.....'

[Guest]

It took Animos a moment to comprehend Ayden’s AMAZING speech. But once he DID comprehend it, and understood what he’d said, he could only nod, wide-eyed in solemnity. Within the confounds of his brain, Blade wanted to make Ayden shut up with a knife to the throat. Jack didn’t believe a word of the Cheese-Man story, but he figured Anim would be confused to pieces if he knew the truth. And now it seemed Cheese-Man was sending him off, a sidekick now, to go cover up the fondue thing? Which, by the way, was OBVIOUSLY a successful attack on villainy and injustice everywhere! So Anim, after giving Ayden one last, solemn nod, and a brief salute to the laughing Cheese-Girl, as he had dubbed the obvious partner to Cheese-Man, he darted off to the scene of the heroics. Completely oblivious to the surrounding people, he cleaned up the fondue and the broken glass, before racing away again, just as some guy started blabbering on about stuff that nobody probably cared about. Well, okay, maybe just stuff Anim didn’t care about…

{EXIT THREAD}

[Murazar Dauthi]

Murazar watched the grand scheme of the lighting the fire and the little speech. He go up and growled to himself in a low grumbled while the souls in his head were screaming louder than ever before. Honor the dead, but not the living eh? A speech well made for theatrics, but one that wouldn't fit well with the intelligent parts of the crowd that were picking him apart word by word.

He waited until the end of all the fancy words and full of shit sayings hidden in there like subliminal messages. Damn man would be a decent leader, not much beyond that until he proved a level and clear head through crisis. Until then Murazar felt it was better to leave while all his people were leaving. He had a few things left to check in central and then he would be back in briggs.

He turned and stumbled through the exit, he didn't care if anyone saw him leave or even cared. He was too drunk to care himself.

{EXIT THREAD}

[Jay Furor]

As Jay approached the beloved buffet, she quickly saw the bar. YES! She knew there was a bar, because all good parties have a bar. And this was certainly an important party, so it had to be a GOOD party, too! Therefore, it had to include a bar. WHICH IT DID! Huzzah for fridge brilliance! So as soon as Jay could reach it, she had obtained some fancy-pantsy champagne. Normally, Jay would settle for some nice liquor store vodka, but if the party was to be ritz, than Jay would have to be ritzier than the ritzy-ritz party! So she drank down a bit of it, deciding she did prefer her favorite drinks much better. As she drank, she noticed Hans had began to give his speech. Hearing out the speech, she was rather moved. Few speeches had ever really made Jay feel so… so strongly, about the state of her nation. She couldn’t even move her eyes from Hans until he finished speaking and walked to the gardens, where she followed in a procession of sorts, with the rest of the guests. There they had a memorial in place for all of the dead of Amestris. Previously, this would never have concerned Jay. But ever since joining the military, she felt a sense of grief for her fallen comrades. She raised her hand in a salute, an actual salute this time, remembering everyone she knew of that had died since she’d first joined the military. Her former squad from when she’d joined Special Ops under a false age, hehe… Good people, all five of them. Jay’d have to look up the other two survivors later on… She remembered people from this time period that had died as well… People like Josef, whom she’d shortly known, and the famously slain Stuka girl. Along with those well-remembered names, there were also the countless casualties of war… Her one salute itself couldn’t quite give tribute to all of these deaths in fair amount… And Jay had to think, the heroes of war are never the survivors, but the men and women that fell on the line of duty. As she thought these thoughts, she noted that Spade had already left. Ah, crap, her ride was gone… Oh well. She decided to make her own exit at this point too. So without further adieu, Jay wove her way out of the crowd, in quest of a method of returning home…

{EXIT THREAD}

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