MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {1}

[Guest]

Amestrian-Drachman border: 11 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 04:29 Central Time (CT)

Snow crunched softly under the heavy weight of Ivanka's boots as the chill mountain wind stung his eyes and whipped his scarf and hair around wildly, as if trying to tear them from his body. Spring may have arrived, but the mountains of Briggs were as inhospitably cold and dark as ever that morning. The howling winds muted the sounds of soldiers scattered across the encampment talking lowly to one another. The bitter cold darkness would be their ally that day before the sun rose. It would cover them from enemy eyes.

The stage was set for invasion, at the foothills of the mountain the Drachman advance unit was prepping for the attack against the Amestrian citadel, Fort Briggs. Never before had the monolith --a testament to the militant oppression and evil that sought to destroy Drachma-- been conquered by any army. Today would be the day that the wall finally fell. Aurel and Alena had planned a glorious and cunning attack to destroy the Amestrian dogs from the inside and out. RIOTE would sabotage Briggs from within, sending their troops into disarray and crippling their defense. The main body of the Krasnaya Armiya, waiting further away from the advanced unit's location, waiting for Ivanka's orders to mobilize. In the enemy's moment of weakness, the swift hammer of Drachman justice and might would descend upon them, and smite them from this land, never to threaten Drachma again.

At Drachma's disposal were a massive unit, equipped with choppers, armour, even a few long range rocket artillery and ranged missiles set in advance for the shelling of the enemy. But most importantly, they had the agents of RIOTE and Kuvalda, and an army made up of the bravest men and women in the entire world, ready to fight and die for their country.

The time had come to address the members of his unit. Though much smaller than the bulk of the main army, they had the important task of commencing preparations for the attack. They were to clear the way for the main force to storm Briggs. History remembers the time Drachma's forces were annihilated outside of Briggs, after stationing outside the fortress. It was their job to push before the main army and ensure that they would not fall into any Amestrian trap. These brave soldiers were prepared die for the safety of their country. None had forgotten the atrocities of the invasion of Moscow. It was time to crush the Amestris once and for all, and liberate the people.

Setting his sledgehammer on the snowy ground to lean against a recon vehicle, Ivanka climbed onto a heavy, metallic ammunition crate so that he towered above everyone in the encampment. Somber violet eyes glanced over all the soldiers clad in arctic white and equipment labeled with the star of Soviet Drachma.

Taking in a deep breath, Ivanka's voice range out with a boom:

"Comrades!"
Everyone slowed done and ceased to work, turning their attention to the Titan.
"Today, Comrades, we avenge our brothers and sisters, our mothers and fathers, our dear children, who were heartlessly massacred in Moscow months ago."
The crowd was sober with the tension of the storm of war that loomed overhead, but Ivanka's voice was passionate flame that kindled their frozen spirits.
"They thought they could bully us, into submission!"
A heavy automail leg stomped onto the crate beneath him, echoing a heavy crash of anger throughout the camp.
"Well I say no more! Today, the fascist riech of Amestrian oppression will come to realize what they have unleashed! Drachma outnumbers them ten to one! Our wrath will storm from the heart of the motherland and eradicate the fascist dogs of Amestris and the elitist oligarchy of Creta. We will remove a blight from this land, we shall cleanse the earth with fire!"
A fleeting thought, a grim memory-- the Amestrian man who stabbed Marismo, and dragged her off. The hundreds of bodies strewn out in the snow of Mertvi, bloodied and defiled. The ruins of Moscow, littered with debris and the dead. Unceasing rage boiled with Ivanka, consuming his mind and empowering the galvanization of his voice.

"WE WILL TAKE THE FIGHT TO THEIR LAND! THEIR PEOPLE! THEIR BLOOD! WE WILL AVENGE OUR COMRADES, OUR FAMILY! THE RED ARMY WILL STAND VICTORIOUS! COME NOW COMRADES, ONWARD FOR SOVIET DRACHMA!"


[Aki: ALL DRACHMANS/RIOTE MEMBERS POST FIRST]

[Guest]

Amestrian-Drachman border: 27 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 04:29 Central Time (CT)

The wind whistled shrilly outside of the large tent they had set up in the foothills of this bitter country that was barely their home. They were standing on the brink. The very brink that led into the maw of the beast that had wrecked such utter destruction in the heart of their country months earlier. The people that had broken the Kremlin, that had kidnapped, killed, and violated his men, the people that had dared to destroy the home he had sworn to protect. And he had failed. He had failed utterly in the duty he had been sworn to do, to prevent the havoc that had occurred. The only success he could alot himself, was the civilian lives he had managed to save. But what of his soldiers? His soldiers that had been so utterly beaten? It had been his fault.

What would she have said?

"Did you run a full check on our artillery?" His deep voice boomed out as his hands pressed into the table before him, crimson eyes flickering to the woman to his left. She saluted him, "Да! Everything is in order sir. I had them checked three times. They will be ready to go when Comrade Ivanka gives the order." Her hands folded behind her back as she stared at the man before her, the man seeming to hold darkness so close to him. Zabulon nodded slowly, his piercing gaze lowering back to the map stretched out before him with various pieces placed out upon them. Yes, it was their battlefield laid out as things were at the moment. The main army was waiting behind Ivanka's forces, their artillery already set up and ready to fire when the time was right.

His eyes focused upon the wall that was the symbol of their enemy, the entity that he would crush this day for he would not fail. Not. Again. He would crush Amestris into the ground here, and if he could, then he would find his way to Central to aid them there. He refused to shame the post that he had received after his adoptive mother. He had to regain the honor that he had lost. Svetlana... And what of his adoptive daughter? He had to protect her too from these monsters. They had already tried to.... His right hand clenched into a fist upon the table, causing his subordinate to his left to tense up a little. Who knew what those men would have done to her had he not showed up when he did. "Sir?" His hand instantly relaxed and he took a deep steadying breath, straightening up as he ran through the plan one more time through his head. "Good work. Tell the men to get ready, Ivanka should be speaking soon." He murmured softly, tying his long black hair back into its usual ponytail, pulling his warm hat back onto his head. It was time.

Stepping outside, Zabulon towered over some of his men, folding his gloved hands behind his back as he exhaled slowly. It condensed into a mist that blew away with the harsh winds, stabbing at his exposed skin as if to remind him of the battle in Moscow. All those tiny pinpricks... Not this day. This was their day. Their day to shine, their day to slam the fist of righteousness into the solar plexus of their nemesis. It was their day to carve out their hearts as they had done to Drachma.

"Comrades!"

It had begun. Even as far back as they were from Ivanka, his voice could not be lost to the winds of the mountains. It was as if nature were telling them that they would succeed, that their voices would be heard over the rabble of Amestris. Zabulon did not lock himself onto watching the Hammer of Drachma, but instead looked around at the men and women that joined them in this fight to reclaim the light of their country. Before after Amestris had swooped in with their allies to crush Moscow, they all had held a subdued air. Their heads lowered more, a cloud hanging over them much as it had him (though he had buried himself in work to help with that). Oddly enough, Sveta had been more of a help than he had expected what with the little things that she would do like bring him coffee, papers, or just sit there and watch him do work while she did... whatever. Homework he hoped. She was a good girl, quiet like him, but a genuinely good soul.

Yes. That was what he fought for. That glimmer of light and warmth that radiated from his adopted daughter and what she represented. She was the future of their nation, and that had almost been snuffed out by those Amestrian bastards. It was good she was not here to see how his hands tightened behind him, the gleam of the reaper that had filled his eyes, the tightness of his lips. "WE WILL TAKE THE FIGHT TO THEIR LAND! THEIR PEOPLE! THEIR BLOOD! WE WILL AVENGE OUR COMRADES, OUR FAMILY! THE RED ARMY WILL STAND VICTORIOUS! COME NOW COMRADES, ONWARD FOR SOVIET DRACHMA!"

"FOR SOVIET DRACHMA!" This time his voice boomed out in chorus to the rest, the sound like the rumbles of the soil during an earthquake. It did not matter if he believed in all of the words of the new soviet drachma, it was his home and his country, and by god he would die to protect it. His arm shot up to punch the air and then salute, his hands then returning to their clasped position behind his back. "And for Sveta..." He whispered quietly under his breath as he turned away, returning into his tent to begin coordinating and finish up his preparations. He picked up his scythe from the top of a crate and slung it across his body, readjusting the gloves on his hands. Like the RIOTE members would attack from the inside out, so would their white blood cells. At least, if he could help it.

[Emmelin]

WITHIN FORT BRIGGS
April XX, 2012: 04:29 Central Time (CT)

Bitter cold. It was cold out and the cold was freezing her joints. Val hated the cold usually but she would deal. the games were about to start. She could hear a bit of distant shouting. Though it was in a language she barely understood, she figured the game was prepping. This would be fun. Val was simply enthralled and her mind raced with the excitement. She got chills either from the cold or from the snow, she couldn't really tell. It was a bitterness in the air that simply left her tongue wanting more. The blood to be shed~ Oh how pleasurable. Though she supposed she should try and keep casualties low. After all she had to keep morale up.

Her soft lips would be licked as she let off a soft hum upon the world. Delicious death upon the world was clinging. The world would change for the better, less sinners upon the world. All things Valeria was excited for. the beauty of it all set her heart into a pulsing beat that she could hear in her ears. Her body edgy and she couldn't stay still. A child before Christmas was less longing than this woman now. The time couldn't come fast enough. For now they were awaiting 'The time'. That was when it started and the beast would be unleashed. Shifting her weight, she browsed the area like a patrol dog. Damn she was glad to kill militants.

Oh what fun, what fun. Deceit. This was Valeria's favorite game. Like walking into a poker game when you knew everyone's weakness and acting as if it were nothing. An ace up the sleeve, an adrenaline junkie's high. Oh and did that high feel good. Val had no speech, she didn't need to give one. The little toys of RIOTE were more than ready to go. In fact the harder part was getting them to sit still and play along. What time was it? Where were their allies?

It had been such an easy task to slip by. She had come up before here in the past, it wasn't like she was a stranger exactly. It took even less of a time to swoon a guard into giving her his little outfit. Silent stalking, silent ambushes. Only a few before they could raid the extra outfits from within the arsenal. It was remarkable the skill of the people. Such secrecy and such darkness that smiled upon the night before them. It was going to be a fun one.

It was amazing to Valeria that she was entrusted with such a task. After all, what if she wasn't loyal to Aurel as he thought she was? Oh it had been difficult indeed to decide between RIOTE and her teacher, but she had made a decision. A 'love note' on his desk that asked him to join herself in a little game of cat and mouse. The sad thing being she had slipped past all the guards to deliver it herself. It took only moments with her womanly whims. Pawns were so easy at times. Her teacher hadn't been there when she visited, which was fine by her. It was better that he wasn't. She might have changed her mind at that time.

Now this game was all hers. Her 'talk' with her men and women was earlier and the plan had been made. Even if Ayden had only been warned half an hour earlier, he had plenty of time to return. She might face fire for that, but in fact if she took the interest of one general isolated, she would surely weaken the pack, no? Either way, she was enjoying herself. Hopefully he'd get enjoyment out of it as well. What was there wrong with having a little fun?

Slipping the rest of her uniform on with hat to top, she could pick out with ease her men as opposed to theirs. She knew their faces, the hunger in their eyes. all of them were in their sheep clothing, some as peasants even. She herself was positioned outside a shop, a causal worker. Her men were at the ready and how many were there even? Oh the temptation, but patience.. she needed it. That was key to this little ploy. Her body would move as standing in one spot was definitely suspicious.

Bumping into a man, she spoke in a hushed whisper. "Everyone knows the cue, correct?" She would ask in a soft and smooth voice. Only the man could hear as he nodded. A sort of alert look on his face. Such good actors they were. Little pawns at their spots, ready for the games to begin. Oh how impatient she was. What would the generals do? Would Ayden warn the others? She doubted it. He wouldn't know what she was talking about until it was too late. This chess game was with living pawns and he wasn't even the king. Aha! How amusing.

How will you last Briggs when you don't know who to trust? She would muse as she simply laughed inwardly. Her uniform body almost made her look like a man. the long tresses she normally had down were pulled up and pinned in her hat. Indeed she looked nothing more than an average soldier and her scythe.. was hidden away as usual. She knew where it was. They wouldn't. Oh the thrill.. she could barely contain herself, but she knew better. Let's see who truly is the greater fighter. oh how I love a battle that's won before it's begun. Indeed her cockiness was showing a bit in those demon's violet eyes. Satan guide me..

[Guest]

Amestrian-Drachman border: 11 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 04:29 Central Time (CT)

Right. So he had returned from his happy fun time in Aerugo rather recently, and by the time the boy had gotten back to Drachma, he had work to do! Serious work, not any of the silly fun stuff. SO he put on his best serious face as he joined the ranks of Kuvalda, near the front of the crowd before Ivanka, their leader. Kean liked Ivanka; they never really talked, but Kean had met him when first joining Kuvalda, and he was a nice person. And his words... They were so.... Good. Yeah, good was the right word. Kean believed Ivanka's words were good, very good indeed. So he listened intently to his good words!

And the words made him think... What if his family was killed by Amestris? No, no, no, that was impossible. They were in St. Petersburg, not Moscow. But still... While Amestris had seemed like such a good, friendly place, when he was living out of a dumpster in East City, perhaps they WERE as ruthless and bloodthirsty enough to move throughout Drachma, systematically committing mass genocide...

Kean... They killed your family. C'mon. You know they did. Don't lie to yourself. Don't lie to me. I know all, I see all. You are a tool. The tool of a fool, no less. Kill them Kean. Kill them all.

No, Fang! I'm not going to listen to you! You're stupid, go away!

With the brief battle of thoughts having ended, he caught the end of Ivanka's speech. So as to further emphasize Ivanka's point across to the rest of the armies there, he raised his fist to the air, tiny and low to the ground as it was, and gave a cry of "FOR MOTHER DRACHMA!," which was rather powerful for his size. Soon after, a few others followed suit, giving their own little pre-battle cry. And Kean now readied his weapons, checking that his watches were charged and that his Derringer was loaded, in the off-chance he'd need the gun. As it was, both were full of ammo and ready for combat, so Kean too was prepared to go to war.

[Guest]

Amestrian-Drachman border: 11 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 04:29 Central Time (CT)

Valentin shifted slightly, the cold beginning to nip at what little exposed skin she had. This was certainly a situation that required a lot of sacrifice for her. Sacrifice in comfort, in some ideals, in… her family… But this was her job. After all, she was confident the Inquisition would still be there when she returned to Esparia, and Vasco wasn’t the kind of person to fuck up ruling a country in such a short period. Or, rather, she hoped. Otherwise, she’d need to see who dethroned him and scare that man into complacency.

Glaring at the one called “Ivanka,” she sighed quietly, her breath crystalizing in the air. He was certainly… verbose. Babbling on in his foreign tongue. She would’ve mistaken him for a politician if someone hadn’t pointed out he was a soldier. Her lips curled into a smile, hidden beneath her half balaclava. She’d only call him that when he proves himself.

The speech reaching a crescendo, the soldiers erupting into nationalist pride, she presumed. Not exactly her ideal tool, but useful for the situation. To fight the Amestrians finally would be… nice, for a change. People that twist and pervert the power of creation to their own whims, to destroy… Children with fire. They had hurt themselves and others too many times. This time, this offensive, was almost… surreal. She was ecstatic.

Walking up to Ivanka, she taps him on the shoulder. ”Are you done your speeches?” she asks. ”Best to move quickly, lest the pawns realize the danger we’re throwing them into.” Her eyes stare coldly at Ivanka at first, then narrowing. She had little patience for these shenanigans, considering the timeline they were on. She couldn’t let this man’s vanity endanger herself because Amestris finally noticed the mass of troops just North of the border. No, this has been in the making for too long for that to happen. ”Get them ready, now… And avoid the speeches.” Without even waiting for a response, she turns and walks away, examining the men. Certainly professional, compared to Esparia’s “military,” but… Something still felt rag-tag about them. But, there was strength in numbers, and several strong individuals have risen from the ranks. Chance of success? Slightly better. But her odds were still iffy.

[Guest]

Amestrian-Drachman border: 11 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 04:29 Central Time (CT)

Cold, how he hated the cold, the numbness it brought on him both physically and mentally, the feel of sluggish blood in his veins...but most of all he hated the memory's the visions of his past. Ohh he could see it now the room that had been his prison for all those years or what had seemed like years to him at the time. The chill cut threw his layers of clothing as he walked and listened to speech he couldn't comprehend, given to solders he had met only a few days before, in a land he had never visited until now.

It was an odd situation all things told, and one he wasn't incredibly comfortable with...He should have been at his contract holders side but she wouldn't have any of that. He stood out to much she said, He was to slow for the mission she was on she said....He hadn't believed her, he had insisted, and he hadn't backed down but in the end, she had one the debate."Damn me for ever letting that woman hold my contract..." He could only sigh now and do the job he was being payed to do, and he might as well do it with a smile despite the cold....There was killing coming and that would make him warm enough.

Suddenly the speech came to a crescendo and the solders around him erupted in what could only be described as zealous national pride, or what he assumed as such sense the only word he could make out was in fact the name of the country he was currently standing in. For all he knew they could be yelling about the swiftly dropping price of grapefruit...But some how he doubted that.

He stood apart from the others around him and checked to make sure his gear was all in order, Gun? check. Ammunition? Check. Axes sharp and ready? Indeed. grapnel,rope,first aide kit, Extra clothing all check. It seemed he was as ready as he was getting....Now all there was left to do was stand and wait for the signal to move out....

He could only grin at him self, he had known what he was getting into but it was only then sinking in....He was going to war for the second time in his young life....And this time he would be coming home, this time he would make a name for himself, this time he would not be caught with his pants down."Soon now....Soon..." His blood burned hot then, he could taste blood on the wind....And it tasted good.

[Reila Tsukino]

It was one of those off-days. Reila hit the alarm and rolled over, pink hair annoyingly sprawled in knots across her face. She moaned into her pillow and squeezed her eyes shut against the dim sunlight leaking through the frosted-over window. The morning was especially cold, she was especially tired, and she felt like she hadn't showered in months. She almost had the desire to clean everything save for the fact that she was too exhausted to raise even a single pinkie from beneath the sheets. Stress. Stress did wonders to people, even people like her. She witnessed it happen, as the shadows under her eyes grew and people began telling her to take a break--when her lungs started hurting from sighing all the time...when Mr. Peach's Sweet Pea Tea shop became a haven unlike any other. Coffee. Coffee! That simple promise of warm sustenance laced with caffeine was all she needed...to only set the alarm to snooze for an extra hour instead of three. Others were awake, eagle-eyeing the horizon for any sign of Drachman attack. But how long could it be humanly possible to be this on-edge? After retreating, Reila herself was constantly sharpening her tachi, waiting, just waiting for retaliation. Losing in Drachma was weighed even heavier after the bombs, rendering Amestris even more susceptible to attack, yet none came? These thoughts put her to bed each night--these thoughts forced her to pour over her desk of notes and battle tactics--plans--anything that would save lives when the worst happened. But what was the worst? As she drifted off and thoughts strung along to other meager thoughts, images of Drachma came back, her tornado ripping through lives, making her wonder and wonder again why...why must people fight each other like this? Why can't everyone just get along?

Her alarm ranged on the beside table, slapped and sent into a frenzy on the floor until forced to shut up via brute button-pushing. So she was naive, fucking SUCK IT. She flung her bare feet over the bed, taking the covers with her all the way to the bathroom where she couldn't find her toothbrush. The first sign that today was even worse that it seemed. Somehow, it was in the shower, reminding her of how much little time she had to do anything. Multitasking was key; it meant that she could cut time in half and spend more hours concocting plans and tactics that she wished would never come to fruition. However, Dai invaded occasionally, forcing her to have fun and kicking her out of the Fort so she could go do something that wasn't work. But even away from it, it was all she could think about. Mr. Peach was comforting, understanding, and he...he was like the grandfather she never had--the old man she could watch out for and him her. Plus, his coffee was to die for, not literally. If one were to die for his beverages, certainly Mr. Peach would not only be flabbergasted, but sad over even a stranger. His heart was as warm as the boiling water he used to brew if not warmer. She smiled tiredly in the mirror just thinking about it, and then sort of wished she hadn't. Ugh, she looked like a zombie.

Showers worked miracles--water vapor and shampoo coupled with conditioner was a godsend for consumers. She floated out in a towel and went about digging out one of her uniforms to put on. Her skirts were all in the wash and she was feeling cold and lazy especially with her long hair dripping down her back. BLAH. She slipped into pants and hiked up her military boots, pain-in-the-ass-ing-ly tying them allllllll the way up to her knees. Frowning, she dug around for her medals that were haphazardly flung across her dresser last night due to exhaustion from training all day with bokken. She fastening them to her uniform top and went about the long, annoying task of blow-drying her hair so as she did not freeze to death. God, she loved Briggs and all it's wonderful dangers, but at this point in the game, everything was just so damn tiring. She was unusually cold today, foul tempered, annoyed even enough to grab a hat to hide herself in and her glaring golden eyes. There was just this feeling--this unsettling feeling that she had been having this entire past month. It was like...like something was coming.

Breakfast...was a bitch. She decided not to bother cooking today and leeched successfully off Fort Briggs' many skilled cooks who were more than happy to make her what she currently craved. Grilled cheese and egg drop soup. She felt like she gained ten pounds after shoveling it down, but brain work and high-tension nerves most likely burned a lot of fuel, thus she ate like a flipping machine. Even if people gave her looks for eating two meals for breakfast, whatever! Running a war-ravaged joint took more than a little effort especially in this state.

She fell asleep a few times at her desk before giving up on the complicated maneuver she was attempted to combat with the Briggs defense system, and decided to go for a bit of fresh air at the watch tower just outside her office. Equipped with gloves, her coat, and the warmest, longest, and biggest kasmir scarf of all time, she made it across the base without sweating to death and out to the negative temperatures that were somewhat relieving. Staring into the icy void of white-washed landscape, she got lost in each snowflake in which few fell to alight on her nose and melt into warmed water. Reila felt a smile fathom onto her lips, washing away the smoldering clouds of black shrouding her heart. She called Dai. Ring...ri--

[Guest]

A pink tiger cub was prancing around, it's shiny coat of pale red and
gold shimmered in the frozen darkness splashed with white. It's paws
hardly on the ground as it savored the sweet caress of darkness. It's
eyes a beautiful blue, but full of sorrow. out of the abyss, a large
pack of mountain wolves, white and grey with teeth foaming... surrounded
the cub. They were to take revenge for what another generation did.
Their minds filled with blood lust and their senses flooded with tears
they couldn't bear part from, they were sick with rage. A rage that was
for naught, but could never be rid of. One paw, two paws, three closing
in on the pink shimmering thing as it cowered, but growled all the same.
It's will to live strong, no matter what was thrown at it. A light
within the icy darkness. The silky maw of the tiger showed teeth, but no
lust. Suddenly there was a flash of fur, blood fell over the scene and
it was darkness yet again. After a crash of lighting fell into sight,
there was a woman's cry and the deep roar of the father tiger, it's
cobalt blue hide wrinkled with rage. Blood mixed with blood as the two
species fought for eternity, none brave enough to lower their heads from
the fight.

Mr. Peach woke up with a start, his mind still had
the image of the tiger as he rolled his eyes around his room, the
nightgown he wore stuck to him like a wetsuit. Filled with sweat. He
turned to his side, his black eyes widened with fear. He couldn't catch
his breath and it felt as if her was on the verge of a heart attack.
Reila's in trouble! He thought immediately. Thinking, but not thinking
he rose himself from his bed and got together the supplies. For the past
two weeks, his dear Reila had been feeling uneasy about what was to
come and he had been stocking up, bringing things from the south and
making sure he had 100 of everything. With the first vision in two
decades, he knew today was the day. He looked at his bird clock on the
wall. 12AM Central Time. Good, he would be able to make it before anyone
woke up. He pulled open a trap door under his stove and pulled out
whatever he could. Food, water, energy tea, his best alcohol at least
100 proof. Metal retractable spires and a large tarp. He even had twenty
aid kits and emergency medical supplies. He gathered that in his bag
and then went to get as much food as possible. He gathered that up too.
With that he loaded it up onto his truck and then added an addition to
it that would carry even more.

He brought home-made slings, barrels of coffee he made a week ago, and
even a few shotguns and quite a bit of ammunition with him. He didn't
care for automatics much. After that, he took a lot of plastic zip lines
and makeshift beds. He had no time to act old and his Chimera power
worked wonders right now. Mr. Peach covered it all and took the helm of
his truck, dressed to the 9's. Before he started the car or even put his
foot on the pedal, he closed the door and stared at the wheel. He
chuckled hoarsely " This must be my punishment... Those years in that
lab just wasn't enough I guess. Maybe if I didn't warn them of the
attack 50 years ago...then maybe I would be dead by now, asleep in a
coffin having a nice cup of tea with the worms..." He took out his dog
tags. They were rusted and old, but he kept them anyway. It reminded him
of a time where he was a soldier. When his name wasn't Tousen Alexander Peach, but Freddrick Anderson Peachcakke. Was he driving up there so he could full fill what he couldn't do 50 years ago? Would the woman that he loved back then be just like the woman that he loved now? Gone because of him?

The answer came to his old mind. He had heard it from his master in the Xing mountains. When the bamboo grew straight, and the green whispers between the leaves were eternal. The leathery brown man that looked like he was staring at the face of god once told him this: "You didn't lose a life. You gained one. What you need to know to keep that life is that Destiny is by coincidence, and bravery is by default. The real question is, whether you choose to follow that destiny." Freddrick mumbled under his breath, his knobbly knuckles gripping the wheel. He will climb up this mountain to warn Briggs of his vision and follow the destiny that he couldn't full fill those small five decades ago.

He started the car that roared to life like a crouching lion and burst forth, the snow flying behind the wheels. An hour later at 2:30 he was waved into the fort and burst into the main hall and asked with a kind, but scared smile to set up the supplies on a low-bearing wall slightly far away from the weakest point of briggs along with any supplies they could spare and medical personnel. After making sure that everyone was okay, he set up the tents with them. Wasting no strength or holding back. The men and women he knew looked scared and surprised at the old slow man that was always calm, even if a new customer held a knife at his throat. It was much worse, the knife was held at all of briggs. He couldn't afford to lose another family. When everything was ready he literally ran into Reila's room.

" Reila, please get ready fast." After a while he blurted out his vision of the wolves and tigers in the frosty air and a cub of pink and gold being slaughtered. Peach suddenly hardened his eyes out of pure determination. " You're instincts were right. It's coming." He handed Reila a thermos of coffee. He needed everyone to be awake. He didn't want anyone to get hurt. So he made a solid promise to himself: "Even the Drachmans need healing when wounded. So I will close my eyes that discern sides and make sure I have no regrets. For Sweet Pea or her." He thought. The meaning of "her" was left to his own interpretation within his own mind.

[Murazar Dauthi]

WITHIN FORT BRIGGS --- Office of Ft. Briggs Intelligence --- AKA the S2 Shop or the Foundry
April XX, 2012: 04:30 Central Time (CT)


Murazar rubbed his temples with his hands while leaning back in his leather reclining chair. Today he was wearing his digitalized camo uniform that was pressed to a crisp and had his subdued honorary ranks and positions upon his collars and chest. Above the Amestrian Army on his left chest were a few sewn in subdued patches, one for Combat Infantry, Air Assault, HALO/HAHO, EOD and a Combat Diver patch. He didn’t bother wearing a cap at all considering the weather was always freezing and usually everyone was inside or at the least on the cat-walks.

He was one of the more practical people in the Fort, he had issued out orders that everyone under himself to wear the camo patterned uniform. Since they were always at a state of alertness and needed to react quickly to whatever would happen they might as well be combat ready instead of looking like flashy idiots with medals and Class A or B uniforms. His office was located just outside the enormous cluster fuck of combining all the different intelligence divisions offices into different offices with a single hallway. His office at the end of said hallway. It complicated matters to less that most types of organized offices, but it was still annoying for him to walk all the fucking way down to just review and approve of crap.

In moments he got a priority one with a red flag e-mail from the Image intel boys who used those fancy UAV’s to scout over fifty miles out from briggs and back. Two of their UAV’s were lost over the same general area before they could get any streaming video form the area. In other words most likely they were shot down, he used one of his programs to cross triangulate the area and figure out a general idea of the entire area where both UAV’s were taken out. While the program ran he sent out a priority one red flagged e-mail to everyone under him to put on their body armor and keep everything close by. The e-mail also contained instructions on to investigate that area and start developing a general idea of what they were dealing with in order to figure out what plan to enact and prepare.

From the looks of it the attack would be soon and heavy as all hell. He tried to bring Reila up on her phone line, but all he got was a busy tone that wouldn’t be interrupted. Great she’s talking to Daigoro or some bullshit. He decided to use his computer to push through the phone and to show up on her tele-presence. The huge tv screen used for face to face meetings without actually being there. He appeared almost immediately on the screen on her end and she along with her cluttered desk and such appeared on his. He cleared his throat before standing up and staring straight into the screen towards her. His eyes searching for hers. His tone brooked ice-cold seriousness and urgent in nature. ” Reila, moments ago we just lost two Unmanned Aerial Vehicles in the same search grid due to impact damage. In other words gun fire of some kind. Its around ten to twenty Kilometers out and the search area of which both areas looks quite large. While I have my people searching for further information and ready to go if necessary. I am recommending maximum alert status by all personnel and stand-by status in preparation for a swift attack upon us. I am also recommending the utmost caution in broadcasting our state of readiness. “

In other words, he knew they were about to get hit hard and fast, but didn’t have a fucking clue about anything else and was waiting for further orders. This time he wanted to stay out of the fight until it reached the interior of briggs. When that might happen, which in the amount of time it would take to get everyone in place and ready they would already be under assault and taking casualties.

[Guest]

Springs had always been something of oddities to Ayden. He'd understood the principles of elastic and strain energy, sure, but he'd never been one for physics if it wasn't directly applied to some form of trajectory or ballistics problem. What he did know, however, was that they were a bitch to clean cordite marks from, and with a nature such as his, the assassin's rigorous washing beneath a lukewarm running tap, gently thumbing the metal coils to ensure they didn't contort, took up a liberal amount of time.

After a few more moments, however, the spring was sparkling, the light refracting from the mirror-cabinet of his comparatively dingy Briggs standard-issue bathroom and dancing along the curls of the spring, before bouncing once more and glinting along the cool edge of his razor. Pushing the spring back into place, and reconstructing the threaded pistol's framework in a matter of moments, Ayden finished off his morning routine by clicking the slide into place and easing the hammer down. Tucking Asmodeus opposite to Astaroth in his ankle-holsters only took another few moments, and then the assassin-General spent a moment pondering his next move.

Ayden's regime was strict: awake at 4AM, sharp, every day. An few minutes of organisation done via phone-call or online browsing, then a ten-minute shower. Another five to get dressed and properly outfitted; a man without his pistols was a man never at the ready. After that a few minutes' killing time, and out of the door by 4:45. Well on schedule, Ayden checked his bathroom clock and sighed, grinning uncannily into the mirror as his wayward glance fell upon it. "You're an animal, Derocha," He muttered, a grin stretching the soft, fresh pale skin of his face apart, revealing two rows of gritted pearl-white teeth beneath. The light glanced off of the saliva-coated surface of each, creating a near-perfect sheen. "A cold-blooded monster."

With that, grip tightening and straining as he grasped the sink basin with all his might, all colour faded from the assassin's face in a moment. It was if he was biding his time and energy, waiting to leap, to pounce, to unleash it all, to see if, today, his visage would hold any surprises, and to see if this process would yield any results. Part of him wanted an inferno to flare in his irises, to breathe fire and hiss smoke. To scorch the tundra of Briggs that surrounded him, to inhale and exhale nothing but thick, scalding hot tar.

Crack.

With that, the colour flushed back into a face in a burst, and Ayden's grip released entirely, plaster chipping at the wall from a simple downward push - the source of the noise. That crack had been the defining moment; the explosion of passion, energy, fury, and so much more. So many emotions, a melting pot of them laying in wait beneath the man's heart, ready to mix together into a white-hot fury and propel themselves at any likely candidate. "GAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Immediately, Ayden burst into laughter, and cocked his head, pulling the cord and heading back into the bedroom, leaving the bathroom to now wallow in silence and darkness.

Slinging on the twin machine pistols, the Twins at his torso to match the Children at his legs, Ayden let out a low, rumbling growl as he pulled on his black longcoat, flicking up the collar and drawing it a little over the weapons, so as to make them less visible. Echidna sat in his pocket, a waiting, weighty little modular hellraiser and harbinger of fiery chaos all compacted into metal framework, hinges, levers, rails, and a single, loaded, incendiary 25mm grenade.

With that, he cocked Typhon and slammed in another drum magazine - his main firearm for the day, should anything go down. An unopened letter in black ink and fine calligraphy, addressed to 'Master Ayden', lay upon his mahogany desk aside a laptop, his car keys, and his Motorola. He hadn't given it a second thought - he knew it was from Valeria, the prodigy, the protégé, but paid it no heed. He'd open it when the time suited him; when a playful mood struck his fancy and when the right chords were playing in the background.

Engaging the safety on the automatic shotgun, and slinging it around so it hung, swaying to and fro like a black-framed twelve-gauge pendulum of death, from his shoulder at his back, Ayden took another look at the clock, humming a touch of Bach; one of his earlier rhapsodies. 4:42AM. On-time - early, even. It was good to be punctual.

A visit to the good Lieutenant General to receive his task for the day, then he'd drop by Daigoro's office and tinker until his fellow alchemist awakened to the beck and call that military life demanded. He was rising above and beyond that beck and call, above the regular call of duty, but Ayden had always enjoyed the early hours of the morning. He wasn't even a night owl; it just felt... good. Advantageous. To know you had the upper hand, the alertness necessary to function, as the rest of the facility lay in slumber.

Locking the door behind him and turning the light off as he slid out, the clock ticked onto 4:43 the moment his second foot touched the ground outside. Taking a moment to admire the falling snowflakes upon the starlit landscape, Ayden grinned and mused upon the matter of just how fun it'd be to kill beneath that sky. To wreak havoc, splatter snow with spattered blood. To let crimson run with white and the two intermingle into a glorious, deathly bleak-red. He felt the pistols at his ankles aching for action, for use, just to be fired once... oh, just once... and Ayden knew he'd succumb to temptation before the day was up. He'd go out hunting for sport, perchance use Ito's range in the armoury; pah, it was a trivial matter - but, oh... how he ached to murder again...

[Guest]

The medical profession never sleeps. The words could never be more true than they were at this very moment for the young head doctor found herself checking over a few patients files aside from some other things of interest in these wee hours of the morning. A steaming cup of coffee rested on her desk alongside her feet that were propped up so, a singular light casting its glow on her and her desk. No, she didn't bother with the overhead lights since the patients in her wing would certainly see and possibly be disturbed. Her lab coat was hanging from the coat stand by the door almost seeming lonely as the stark white stuck out in the dim light.

Thankfully at the moment her ward was relatively clear of patients, only two or three beds occupied. Heh, she had even just aided in a birth! There hadn't been time to transfer her to North City's hospital and so... well... it had been done. Lowering the medical file in front of her, she lowered her feet off of the desk and slowly stood, stretching with a little groan in her throat. Ooohhh that felt good! She even felt a couple of bones in her spine crack too. Refreshed for that brief moment, she walked over to the windows and separated the curtains so she could look out into her ward, seeing all the curtains for those three patients were drawn. The baby was even quiet. A soft smile rose to her plump lips, only restoring more of her youthful appearance than she already possessed. Letting the curtains close, she went back to her desk and closed the files she had been reading, satisfied with what she saw there. Picking up the ones she had already finished reading through, she tapped them so they were even on her desk before carrying them to her file cabinet and opened a drawer, sliding them into their appropriate dividers.

It was a regular morning for her really. She had managed to get five hours of sleep (gasp!) before being awoken by her own damn body. It was too used to being ready to go at the drop of a hat, and getting only maybe two or three hours of sleep when things got busy. So here she was, awoken at 4am. She was just lucky she always had paperwork that needed to be looked over, reorganized, or new discoveries that had been made that she wanted to remain updated on. People made revelations all the time! She couldn't afford to fall behind. Especially not here in Fort Briggs.

But... That hadn't been all she had been reading over. She had asked Mura after their meeting if she could look over some things about the Black Company that he was in charge of since he had offered her that job. She STILL didn't know how to feel about that in the least bit. Her lips pursed as she paused before closing the drawer, turning to look at one of the few remaining folders on her desk. What in the world was she going to do? She hadn't had a chance to speak to Daigoro or Reila about the matter since all three parties had been busy these past couple of weeks. Her, a mercenary. But she would get to help more people, expand her clientele base from what it was right now. Shaking her head with a heavy sigh, Cora locked her file cabinet and returned to her desk, taking a sip of the coffee she had made maybe ten minutes before. She hadn't had the chance to meet Mr. Peach and try his tea or coffee, but she had heard from others that it was quite amazing. She really should try to get out so she could try some.

She adjusted her form fitting combat suit with its pouches stuffed full of supplies for when she was on the field among other things just in case the need arose. Her warm fuzzy fleece outfit was in the wash along with most of the rest of her clothes so she really had little choice in the matter of what she was going to wear after she got out of her shower this morning. Picking up her mug again, she snatched up her lab coat as she exited her office, closing the door with only the softest click that got lost in the silence of her ward. Her footfalls were equally quiet as she began a round about her facility, brown eyes scanning the darkness as calm was the only thing that filled her at that particular moment. Well that... and an odd restlessness that wasn't just because of the coffee. She couldn't place why, she couldn't place the exact feeling, but it was there nonetheless and it was bugging the living crap out of her.

A grimace formed upon her lips as she peeked behind the curtain of her second patient, finding them stable and very much asleep. Last came the baby in the third curtained area of the large room, Cora actually stepping into the enclosed space so she could look the child over. It was a girl, a very beautiful baby girl. The mother lay in her bed appearing peaceful with a hint of a smile on her lips. Heh, mayhaps she was dreaming of her new family that would begin so very soon. The young doctor couldn't help but smile too as she stood next to that baby, her vitals strong despite the cold that overtook this place. She had made sure that both mother and daughter were extra bundled up. Satisfied with what she saw, Cora slipped out between the curtains and just meandered about her facilities, her eyes gazing at the walls, the floor, the equipment that she possessed. It was so peaceful in the early morning... So what in the world was with this uneasiness?! A hand slid into one of the pockets of her lab coat with another sigh, sipping at her coffee as she leaned against one of the walls of her office, deciding against returning inside of it for the moment.

[Dai]

Within Fort Briggs; Daigoro's Bedroom;
April XX 2012: 4:46 am CT

He was dreaming; he could see that already. Images that were never his to see fluttered before his eyes, women changed into birds and flew away in his vision, dark silhouettes moving from shape to shape. As he walked through the valley in the shadow of death, people were standing at his sides, they who had brought him through this life, and they who could possibly take him away from it all. The people that he knew melded with those that he did not, and everything started to slowly fade. He knew that he was dreaming; however he did nothing to change that fact. For some reason, this surreal landscape that surrounded him was picturesque beyond belief. He clicked his fingers once, listening to the sound made as the vibrations took to the air. He watched ripples escape from his fingertips and smiled softly. He knew that he was dreaming. It was obvious by the way that the world around him looked, sounded, smelled, felt. Why would he not be dreaming? He was asleep, right? He'd fallen asleep several hours ago by now. He would look at the time, but that would mean escaping from this dream in which he was at peace. And yet, as if to rip him away from it all, he heard something else. This man, of red hair and eye, heard a voice calling out to him. Looking up and forwards, it was the reality of this place--it was only a dream, after all. Only... a dream...

"AH!" Sitting up suddenly and quickly, he looked groggily over to his side, seeing the red digits of his alarm clock blinking in the darkness that surrounded his bed. He reached a hand up to his head, rubbing his face slowly and groaning quietly. "Ugh." If he did not know any better, he would have to assume that everything was going perfectly to plan. Though.. what plan was there? What exactly was he thinking about right now, as he watched the lights of the clock blink over from 46 to 47. He slowly slid his body out from within the covers (grudgingly, of course), and placed a pair of bare feet on the ground. Slowly standing up, he looked at the cold wall with a steely gaze. He had grown used to the chill, though there was always something of a pang there, especially for what the warmth of his bed had always meant for him. A warm bed was a home. A warm bed was a place to go when there was nothing else for you. A quiet chuckle escaped from his carefully-pursed lips, and Daigoro Ito stepped into the void that was this world in front of him with a nod. He placed a hand onto his dresser, and reached into one of the drawers with a laugh. "I suppose that I should at least try getting into uniform, right?" Nobody replied; he expected that, of course. Two years. It had been two years since he had come to Briggs. Frowning slightly, Dai placed his hands into the drawers and slid clothing out, placing it onto his body without a single word.

And then... he frowned even more. There was a strange scent in the air, and he could not place it. Ignoring that feeling, the man walked into the corridors. He had showered the night before--there was this thing about Briggs that meant that one could not sweat that much overnight. Not sure why. Probably the cold. Leaving behind a small velvet box in his bedroom, he continued to walk directly for the cafeteria. Breakfast called to him. Breakfast really called to him, as a matter of fact. He wasn't sure if it was due to hunger or madness... or a seamless mixture of the two. Placing a hand onto the doors of the cafeteria itself, Daigoro walked in with a slightly confident smile on his face and moved straight for the line, not actually noticing the head of pink hair that had moved back past him and left the place that he was now within. He took note of the food he was eating--bacon and hashbrowns. Lots of bacon and hashbrowns. For some reason, he was a lot hungrier than expected. Shovelling it down--getting dirty looks--and then shovelling it down some more, Daigoro eventually finished his passable breakfast, and began the trek back to his bedroom. At least, he began. It didn't quite finish. The thing that he called a 'ringtone' blared out at him, and he pulled the small (and slightly ancient) phone out of his pocket. People had tried to get him to upgrade, but he liked this one. The small screen said everything he needed to know about his caller, and he quickly flicked the green button and raised it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

{Sablya won't be entering the Mission until the Second Day, just so you know <3}

[Felix Lucas]

Akito was bored. His boredom would have been obvious to anyone who showed up. On top of having nothing to do but stare at snow, listen to wind, and try to stomach the thermos full of coffee that he had so very badly failed at making. Thank goodness that his shift as the lookout was about over. He pulled his black coat tighter over his uniform. Granted, he'd probably catch some anger from one of his commanding officers for wearing it, but he had two good reasons. The first reason was that the coat that was normally part of his uniform hadn't arrived yet. The second being that this was the only coat he had with his transmutation circle stitched in it. If he needed to transmute any of the pieces of shale or obsidian that he had managed to scrounge up, he just had to place the coat on the ground. That ability would definitely come in handy if he needed to defend himself in the giant metal behemoth that was Briggs. Of course, his pistol and rifle were good pieces of equipment for that task as well. Akito looked down at his watch.
"I can't wait for this shift to be over."
He longed for someone to call him on his radio or something. He really wanted to know what that vehicle whose driver had been let in to the fort with a small army's worth of supplies a couple hours ago was doing. Akito had trained his sights on the driver, in case anything were to happen that would've needed action, but nothing did, and the man was let into the fort. He chalked it up to the snow and the heavy clothing masking the man's identity, but he could have sworn the person was a dead ringer for Mr. Peach. Akito grabbed his sniper rifle, using the scope in lieu of binoculars to survey the area in front of the fort. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He walked to the other side of the top of the fort, repeating the process. Nothing strange there. He picked up the radio.
"This is Akito checking in. Still no sign of anything unusual. The only interesting thing all night was that car."
Static from the other side. Of course, nobody had answered him all night, but he assumed that somebody was listening on the other end. Maybe he'd get a little interaction, or maybe even get to do something. His pistol and rifle were already the cleanest they'd ever been, and he had nothing else to do. Taking a potshot at a bear or some such might disturb some of the sleeping Briggs-ites.

[Guest]

Northern Watch Tower -- Fort Briggs
April XX, 2012: 04:45 Central Time (CT)

Jet stood inside the Watch Tower of Fort Briggs, his black and red cape swaying lightly in the cold breeze. Dressed in his full battle armor, Jet stared at the grey snow-filled sky, his mind deep in thought. His helmet sitting upon the floor, snow fell and melted upon his person, washing away with every other snowflake that landed. The Knights face seemed blank, his eyes lost in the heavens above. He had a bad feeling about today, a sinking feeling in his gut that had not been able to go away. Though Jet was used to staying up late, even pulling all nighters training or talking to his beloved, last night was the first time in months he had been unable to sleep at all. This feeling in his gut was strong, but not unfamiliar to him. Almost as if he'd felt it once before, but when? Where?

Before he could fully contemplate this, he heard faint footsteps behind him. Turning his head slightly so he could see, up the steps walked the leader of Fort Briggs and his boss, Reila Tsukino. She hadn't seemed to notice him though, lost in the falling snow. The Lt. General had a lot on her mind, Black could tell from the look in her eyes. No need to grab her attention and ruin her peace. Watching a smile find it's place on her face, he couldn't help but smile as well. So much like Saga, it was almost scary how similar they looked. Especially since Reila dyed her hair pink, it was almost as if she was haunting him. Turning his head back around, he looked up once again. She was in a better place now though, and he was with someone new. Just the thought of Emma made Jet smile and blush. He'd fallen head over heels for this young woman in but a few weeks, and was happy for the first time in months! It excited him to no end when he saw her last week here in the North. It had easily been one of the best times he'd ever had, falling for her more and more as the days went by. They even kissed for the first time, just the thought of it made his heart melt.

He missed her with every passing moment, but used it to fuel his love for her. They'd be together again soon, and that was all that mattered. As if from out of nowhere though his bad feeling began to worsen, as if triggered by some unknown force. Something was wrong, he just knew it. Pulling out his cell phone, Black took off his gauntlet and dialed Emma's number. He needed to talk to her, make sure she was okay. "Hello," she answered, Jet having obviously woken her from her sleep. "Hey princess, I'm sorry for waking you up so early. I've just... had this bad feeling all night and I got worried. I wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied, feeling bad for waking her up. She chuckled softly before saying "Well bar being awoken so early I'm ok.... me and Wheatley are just curled up in bed but I suppose I can bake waffles for everyone in work.... don't worry Jet...everything's okay." The feeling of relief washed over him as she spoke, a smile forming on his lips. Chuckling, he replied "Sorry about that sweetheart, I'm just happy you're okay. I'll let you get back to sleep."

Yawning loudly over the phone, Jet couldn't help but smile. Even her yawns were cute. "It's ok...I miss you....maybe tonight we can organize....a trip." Nodding as if she could see him do so, his smile continued. "I miss you too princess. Of course, that sounds wonderful. Can't wait until I see you again," he replied, feeling his body relax as the knot in his stomach began to unravel. "Get some sleep Jet.....Don't let your dreams worry you..." It was hard sometimes, dealing with what he saw in Drachma. But Emma had been with him every step of the way, always making sure he was okay. Just one more thing he loved about her. "I'll try. You too okay? I know how you can get when you don't sleep well," he replied, picking on her like always. Their friendly playing was always fun, and no matter how bad his day had been she always managed to make him fell alright, always made him smile. Nobody had ever done that to him before. "Oh sush you....your so mean to me...." Chuckling lightly, he said "You like it and you know it. Besides, just means I love you." Emma laughed softly, obviously taken a little aback by his statement. He knew she was blushing like crazy though, she always did when he got romantic. It was cute, he loved her reactions. Heck, he loved everything about her. "Get some sleep...your saying silly things again," she replied. Jet couldn't help but laugh a little knowing how red she was right now. "That just means you're blushing again. I will, sleep well my angel. Sweet dreams!" Yawning again, he could hear her getting comfortable before replying. "Sleep well my knight....speak later." With that he hung up, finding himself completely relaxed once again. She always had that effect on him, it was wonderful.

Feeling much better, he put the phone back in his pocket and reattached his gauntlet. Knowing he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep anyways, he grabbed his helmet, turned around and began to make his way to the stairs. Just then, as if a freight train slammed into him, the knot reformed worse than ever. Nearly falling over from the suddenness of it, he steadied himself as his realization registered in his brain. Black remembered when he had felt this way before; it had been the day Creta attacked West City a year ago. Then that meant... DRACHMA! Briskly walking up to Reila, he stopped in front of her and saluted. "I don't mean to interrupt ma'am, but I believe that attack we've been expecting is coming. Today. Now."

[Guest]

Cheers erupted from the soldiers of the encampment, cries muffled only by the fierce howling of the mountain winds. Ivanka smiled widely as he gazed upon the proud men and women of Drachma's Krasinya Armiya, prepared to bear the flag of their country in righteous victory. Ivanka raised his hand to silence the cheers of his comrades. There would be time to celebrate when their enemies lied beneath their boots. Now was the time for action.

"You know your orders comrades. Report to your commanding officers." The burning fervor of Ivanka's voice was tempered with the seriousness of the situation, and his own responsibility in this momentous task Alena and Chaos had bestowed upon him. "Advanced team, prepare for the first wave. Gunship unit, you are to damage the decks and transport paramilitary. Our inside agents provided by RIOTE will work to disable anti-air and other defensive systems, so we will have full air support shortly. I will lead the Kuvalda unit into Briggs during the attack to lay waste to their systems and promote further discord and to assist the RIOTE agents inside. Comrade Goncharovich will stay behind with the main force and the artillery unit. The artillery unit will shell the fortification prior to the initial gunship attack and first wave and continue to do so until the defensive systems are disabled and our advanced unit can enter the fortress and meet up with my own unit. Once the systems are down, Zabulon will lead the main force down the valley to capture and secure the stronghold. I wish you luck Comrades. Long live Drachma"

And with that final note, the prodigious man leapt down from the top of the humvee and landed heavily onto the carpet of snow beneath him. Gripping the handle of his sledgehammer tightly and swinging it over his shoulder, Ivanka made his way to the other side of the encampment as soldiers scrambled into position. He had not gotten far from his makeshift stage before he was approached by a dark skinned woman who tapped him on his shoulder. She was a representative of RIOTE from...Esparia, was it?
”Are you done your speeches?” asked she, ”Best to move quickly, lest the pawns realize the danger we’re throwing them into.”
"Comrade Valentin, my men are not pawns. I have taken measures to prevent lives from being wasted. Its is being my task to carry the weight of my country and stain my hands with blood of her enemies. I will do everything in my power to prevent tragedy such as former invasion of Briggs nearly century ago."
"Get them ready, now… And avoid the speeches.”
"Do not worry, comrade, the attack will begin shortly."

Valentin seemed to pay no heed to what he said, however, and instead departed from his company hastily. She was a strange and enigmatic figure, but she was an ally of RIOTE, so he was assured that she could be trusted.
Ivanka spied Zabulon from the corner of his eye, easily noticeable from his pale skin, long dark raven hair, and sharp crimson eyes. Whether he was Drachman by blood or not, it did not matter. He too was a trusted comrade.
"Comrade, I trust that you of all people are most prepared. I will leave it to you to commandeer the main force. I will try to keep in contact with you via comlink to inform you of our progress. I will trust you with deciding the best time to mobilize the main force. Victory be with you comrade."

Finally, within a few minutes, Ivanka had reached his own unit: Kuvalda. The sledgehammer of Drachma's forces. As he approached, the small unit of five people stood at attention. Of the original group, only Marynia and himself were left. Zinaida had stayed behind in Drachma for her own reasons, and the reasons of her handlers, and Marismo was.....well, he would come for her after this was over. The other, Vraczun, was a formally inducted member in Kuvalda. The other new member had a mission elsewhere in the world. The remaining three in this group were not official members of Kuvalda, but paramilitary soldiers assigned to him to fill vacancies. There was Reznov, the explosives expert, Mirov the sniper, and Yukov the computer splicer.
Ivanka looked over these five comrades of his with

"Comrades....friends. Today may be the most important day of our lives. You are here because of all the men and women of Drachma, you are the best to serve this purpose. I trust you with this mission as I do with my life, and I hope that you can trust me to the same. All of you know your orders. Marynia will fly our aircraft through the mountains around Briggs where we will HALO drop behind Briggs onto Amestrian soil, in the thick of the forests. From there we must rush to Briggs and enter while they are busy fighting at the front. The Amestrian side of Briggs will be far less secured than the Drachman side. We will ascend the slope of the mountain at the sides of the fortress and board the higher catwalks. Mirov will set up under cover on the ledge of the slope to provide suppressive fire. The rest of us will take the catwalk and break into the fortress through one of the doors. Once we enter, Yukov and I will head towards the main control room to splice into the fort's mainframe and shut down their entire system, disabling their radio communications, defense systems, and power grid. Lean and Reznov will head towards several key points throughout the entrails of the fortress to plant remotely detonated explosives in the lower levels to further sabotage the enemy. I want the enemy's key systems and vital points destroyed. In the event that Yukov and I fail, you will need to destroy the enemy's main power generators in attempt to shut down their systems. Once our objectives are complete, we will rendezvous back at our point of entrance and prepare to assist the main force if they require it, though by the time we are finished, they should be well into fighting. Is everything understood comrades?"


[[ATTENTION DRACHMAN MILITANTS: TO SUMMARIZE YOUR ROLES- YOU MAY
A) Go with the advanced units who are deployed with the gunships to attack Briggs in a shock troop manner. Remember that your force is small, not a large ground army. This job is to initiated the attack and catch Briggs off guard, and hold them until the main force arrives. Remember that you have a lot of helicopter and artillery support, so their will be a LOT of explosions hitting the side of Briggs.
B) Wait with the main force and attack when Zabulon gives order and rush with the main army and the tanks
C) Do your own thing, within reason of course
Note: Kuvalda is under my jurisdiction, and other than Kean, are entirely NPC controlled by myself, other than Reznov, whom I am giving to Kean for NPC control of.
Note: Don't sweat the details too much. Just don't run out into the open and get blown up, and shoot the enemy, and have fun.
Note: The front of Briggs shouldn't have to many ground soldiers at first other than guards posted outsideand on the catwalks.]]

[Guest]

Amestrian-Drachman border: 11 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 4:59-Go Time Central Time (CT) {Ivanka}

"You know your orders comrades. Report to your commanding officers." Zabulon barely heard the call that Ivanka gave out to his troops, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces amongst their forces. The members of RIOTE. True, Drachma was now essentially the group that Amestris and their allies loathed so, but the Head of Defense couldn't help but still count them as.... different. Their goals were what pushed Drachma to its current states, to the wars that they now found themselves involved in. And their soldiers, they were the most distinctive "different" thing about the whole organization out of everything. The odd Esparian woman had not escaped his notice, nor the pale man sitting off examining his guns. He couldn't help but be suspicious of them even if they were his comrades since he did not know them.

He had stepped up to the front of his tent to gaze out at his forces, ready to greet any of those that would approach him since they would have to relatively quickly. Comrade Goncharovich- Zabulon's head turned ever so slightly, though his crimson eyes darted there far more quickly at the sound of his name, staring evenly at the tall silver haired man with his huge hammer. "-will stay behind with the main force and the artillery unit. The artillery unit will shell the fortification prior to the initial gunship attack and first wave and continue to do so until the defensive systems are disabled and our advanced unit can enter the fortress and meet up with my own unit. Once the systems are down, Zabulon will lead the main force down the valley to capture and secure the stronghold. I wish you luck Comrades. Long live Drachma"
Aye, he would ensure that those Amestrian bastards would have a good old fashioned distraction. Give them a taste of a proper Drachman Overture. They would be the Cossacks, but their enemy was different. They would not last long.

"Comrade Goncharovich!" The tall man turned slowly to face the new faces that ran up to him and saluted, giving them a nod and a salute in return. They soon began to explain who they were, what they were in charge of, and requested their orders. So it was that he went to work, beginning to order their troops for the final preparations before their onslaught began of the imposing fort ahead of them. All shells were loaded and ready, guns were being prepped, and last minute inventory checks were going through. All of the main army had to be ready to move when it came time to go. They could not afford to waste this chance, not when such careful planning had gone into it. After sending off a couple of youths, a sliver of dark skin caught his eye, drawing it to where he could see that the Esparian woman was speaking with Ivanka in a serious tone. He didn't bother to try to hear the words for they were not meant for him, and she wasn't a superior officer to him. Could they really trust these RIOTE folk at all?

Ah but it was a question for another time for the violet eyed man was approaching him now, straightening up as his whole body faced Ivanka out of respect. "Comrade, I trust that you of all people are most prepared. I will leave it to you to commandeer the main force. I will try to keep in contact with you via comlink to inform you of our progress. I will trust you with deciding the best time to mobilize the main force. Victory be with you comrade." He nodded curtly, his expression as neutral as ever but the fire did burn in his eyes. "Da. We will be ready to give you the drumbeat for this war. Victory be with you as well Ivanka." Oh they were ready alright. Every man and woman under his command was calling for the blood of Amestris, calling for their deaths to avenge the loved ones who died, the city that was destroyed, and the loss that they suffered. But they weren't bloodthirsty beasts tugging impatiently at their masters chain, the chain that he held. No.... they were patient, they honed themselves so that when they struck, it would pierce the heart of every Amestrian inside that bloody wall.

As Ivanka left, Zabulon strode back into his tent and gazed at the different people doing their various duties. The radios were going and ready. Maps were laid out with markings of their foes. The tension point was high in the air, and all they needed was the final little snip that would snap them all into action. "Comrades," he began, all heads turning to him. "I want those artillery shells ready to offer fire support for the helicopters and support team. Snipers should be ready to take out any guards on the wall that remain and cause issues. I will be leading the main army personally. Are the various squads ready?" He asked of his people, not even turning his head as a raven came swooping into the tent and onto his shoulder. Others were a bit startled and hid it.... rather poorly. "Da. They are all merely waiting for your orders sir." He nodded slowly and stood behind his table, checking the radio that was in his ear. He could hear Ivanka talking on the other end to his troops but he paid them no mind for the moment. Once they moved, then it would all begin. "Let this game begin." He murmured, looking at the open flaps of his tent, ready for the sound of pounding footsteps to signal that they were moving out.

[Emmelin]

April XX, 2012: 4:59 WITHIN FORT BRIGGS

Patience.. patience..patience! That was the chant she played in her head. Her body paced in an over-anxious manner. When was this battle going? When would it FINALLY be started Valeria was over anxious and it wasn't like she could see or hear anything from her allies. A click of her tongue and she would sigh. From other people's point of view it looked as if she had lost something or she was waiting. Indeed she WAS waiting. Pacing a bit before standing still like giddy child.

Shouts reached her ears and she smirked. Her tongue running over her lips, she patiently waited. An overexcited woman who couldn't wait to lift her disguise and lash at the first man, woman or child she saw. A sigh. Tick tock, time goes by. Not fast enough. the torture, the pain. It was nearly overwhelming to keep herself in her game. Keep yourself calm; control yourself. Keep up the work or else the others will fall out of line. Darty eyes, glaring at the occasional overzealous man. Stay in line. I will put you there if you get out of place. Her eyes seemed to say with such glaring violet orbs.

[short post I apologize]

[Guest]

Amestrian-Drachman border: 11 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 04:29 Central Time (CT)
(~(To note, Reznov speaks in Purple, in Drachman. owo)~)

Listening to the speeches and the orders, Kean had to ponder; why was he even in Drachma? What compelled him to display this nationalism he'd formerly never seen before? Heck, he'd been living in Amestris for nearly six years of his life! And he was eleven, that's like, half! It was just so... Surreal. How he could just go from one life to another so fast... But he had been told much about Drachma when he was found and placed in Kuvalda, so he had accepted it. And he didn't regret being brought back to Drachma to serve as a child soldier for a nation allied with international terrorists; he'd been born here anyways.

But his attention was brought to a certain Ivanka, head of Kuvalda and the Drachman military. He gave another speech-load of orders, and Kean listened to them. He was to go with a guy called Reznov and take out chunks of Briggs with explosives, ne? Cool beans! Or rather, he could do this. So as Ivanka finished what he was saying, Kean saluted, trying his darnedest to look dignified. "Understood!" With a nod to Reznov, the explosives team set off for Briggs.

Fort Briggs: Sneaking Around in the Outer Interior of Briggs: April XX, 2012: 04:47 Central Time (CT)
Infiltration successful! With everyone else doing whatever they were doing, Kean and Reznov were at the edge of Briggs, keeping quiet. Kean had been issued a number of explosive packages made specifically for him; each one was set off not by a fuse, or through remote ignition, rather, it was detonated by the highly concentrated photon blasts he could fire from his watches with alchemy; essentially, should anyone find one, it would be nearly impossible to deactivate. Reznov, on the other hand, was using normal bombs; much easier to mass-detonate, but they lacked the security of Kean's charges.

"Okay then Reznov-guy, what are our targets again?"

"Well mainly, we are supposed to take out some watch towers and a few supplies buildings, including an ammunition facility. Tread lightly, Listora." Ah, what a serious fellow he was, him and his wirey frame and glasses. But he was a skilled demolitions expert, so Kean questioned him not, even if he did look nerdy!

And he thus set out, on a quest to lay bombs. First he set one package up, positioning it under some garbage nearby, covering parts of the garbage in snow to totally mask its presence. And so he did with other locations, as it thusly began...

[Reila Tsukino]

"Hey princess..." AHJESUSCHRIST. Reila slapped a hand against her chest and sucked in a sharp breath. Her phone continued the bland ring tone, but her attention diverted to the words that encroached upon the comforting silence she had been experiencing. She gave Jet Black a level look and removed her hand from against her, staring at the dawn breaking against the sky. God, she nearly flung the hunk of metal over the ledge of the tower. Shivering to herself, she tried to swallow the surprise and erase the early morning comfort that had begun to poison her alertness. This was Fort Briggs, yes, the people here were safe; she was safe, but yes, Jet also could have been an enemy sneaking up on her. She had to be more aware. Be. More. Aware.

"Hello?" It was such a blunt answer, but... just hearing his voice brought this brimming feeling of joy. Everything was okay. No matter what happened, Dai was here. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"Hello. Just needed to hear your voice," she answered briefly, "Okay bye." She hung up and clipped her phone back into place. Dai was here. She opened her eyes and looked straight ahead back into the snowy landscape. Alright, time to get back to work. She really had to figure out this tactic or she would really be piss--

"I don't mean to interrupt ma'am, but--" Reila winced, rubbing her forearms as if a bucket of water had been dumped over her head.

"Don't call me that!"

"--I believe that attack we've been expecting is coming. Today. Now."

"What." She looked all about her. At everything. And found nothing. Shooting Jet a bewildered, inquisitive look, out of the corner of her eye she saw through the window that the door to her office inside had flown open. Leaving Jet there without further inquiry, she rushed back inside, nearly colliding with Mr. Peach.

"Reila, please get ready fast."

"What are you talking about?! I need information. N--" Mr. Peach began to explain the dream he had had about a pink tiger (which she hardly could believe was a representation of herself) being slaughtered by wolves (which were her favorite animal) that represented, what, the Drachmans? She tilted her head to the side, trying to discern what that meant, but couldn't place any deciding details that alluded to where the attack would be and when exactly. She clenched a fist and looked him hard in the eyes. She had dreams like that every night.

"You're instincts were right. It's coming." Her men being torn apart--their accusing looks--her failure to round them up to retaliate. Her fort's defenses becoming a meager obstacle instead of the highest area of defense in the entire world. Yeah, she had dreams about that every night, but each of the mornings that followed, no attack came. So what did that even mean. What was Jet claiming? She looked outside and saw the same day as any other. Still, she had the same feeling she couldn't shake. But what could she do about it? Put everyone so much further on edge that they fell over the side? No, she wasn't going to make the call unless there were facts. Letting her paranoia flood over would only hurt the trust in her that everyone carried. Without that trust, there was nothing. She ignored Mr. Peach's final words, processing everything she currently had and analyzing all possibilities. She leaned on her desk with both arms, glaring ahead at the wall so as to not appear angry at the old man who may or may not be as equally paranoid as herself and Jet. She picked up her phone and dialed Murazar's number, but it continuously rang and rang until she felt like her ear would fall off in anticipation. Slamming her phone back into the harness around her leg, she faced the door. It was a long ways to where she would guess Mura was. In that time, anything could happen...

The screen ahead of her toned and flicked on, Mura's face appearing, his vibrant blue eyes searching for her own that instantly met his. Looking winded, golden irises begged silently for information, any information. "Reila, moments ago we just lost two Unmanned Aerial Vehicles in the same search grid due to impact damage. In other words gun fire of some kind. It's around ten to twenty Kilometers out and the search area of which both areas looks quite large. While I have my people searching for further information and ready to go if necessary. I am recommending maximum alert status by all personnel and stand-by status in preparation for a swift attack upon us. I am also recommending the utmost caution in broadcasting our state of readiness."

"Fuck." Exasperated, she slammed a fist into her desk and leaned her head into her arms, taking a deep breath. She raised her head, flicking her eyes back at Mura's on the screen and stood up perfectly straight. "It's here. Mura, prepare for an full scale war. Utilize your men: standby. I will be making the announcement shortly." She flipped the switch inside herself, and breezed past Mr. Peach with an all-knowing smirk as she grabbed the receiver on the wall. This was her element. "Ferris, sound the alarm. Code 533fsw." She pressed the tone dial button and this time her voice was projected through the PA system to all of Fort Briggs. "Good Morning! The weather is at a high -2 with scattered blizzards and a 40% chance of frostbite~ In other news," her voice changed from its cheery tones to her serious commanding tone, "an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly." She ended the transmission, and immediately red lights beamed about the entire Fort, silently alerting everyone...that was until the loud alarm began flaring deafening pitches for a minute and a half before returning to the silent red lights again. Reila went back out onto the watch tower, squinting in the direction of the coordinates flashing across the screen of her phone. Ten to twenty kilometers... they were ten to twenty kilometers away from a war they could very well lose.

[TITLE YOUR POSTS DAMMIT. And posting order is now done. Just keep relative so it makes sense.]

[Guest]

Heading over to the Lieutenant General's office was a matter of triviality. It was a pleasant morning walk, and usually one without event; he was ignored by most regular soldiers, and the stars on his leathered lapel meant that those that DID acknowledge him respected him. A salute here and there to bolster his ego never went wrong, and the assassin always replied with a gentle bob of the head.

However, today, it seemed, was different. As the pale, silver-haired assassin turned the corner into the last stretch of his journey, around the time the clock chimed 5AM, a nearby PA speaker crackled, and an alarm whined in the background, shrill tones piercing the sullen silence that usually hung over the frosted outpost. "In other news, an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly."

It wasn't like Ayden to disobey an order like that, but he was a General. Rule of thumb was that if he skipped over an order of preparation or two to try and cycle further up to visit the heads of Briggs' chain of command, nobody really paid it any heed. So as the entire fort ground into gear, and as every soldier in that corridor cocked their rifles and pulled on their grimy, wet boots, and blue-and-gold uniforms, Ayden checked Typhon's magazine one more time, and pivoted on his heel, heading straight for the epicentre of the action - all too quickly, he ascended up through the fortress' higher echelons, icicles dropping from every nook and cranny and trying to shear through the assassin as the entire structure awoke from the Amestrian ice queen's orders.

In a matter of moments, a silent, pale, leather-clad ghost, Ayden appeared in the ajar door-frame, clutching his shotgun, a sickly smile sitting upon that depraved, deranged pallor of his. He ignored everyone else in the room - his co-worker, the old man with the affinity for teas, his old boss and technically his superior, and the second-in-command carrying a particular weakness for a good speech or two. No, Ayden brushed straight past them without a single glint of acknowledgement in his eyes, and moved straight up through the office and out onto the watchtower, hovering and gliding through the room, the cold presence of death looming over head, lingering like an omen, a bad smell, a haunting feeling. And, there, she stood, staring at blips on the screen of her phone, the silent warrior, the harbinger of death standing inches from her as he spoke. The ice on his voice was just as real as the frost that clung to the railings of the tower itself. "Ma'am,"

As cold as they were, his tones were laden with cynicism and sarcasm, knowing just how much the pink-haired Lieutenant General despised those tones of formality, especially between close cohorts as they were. A devilish grin made its way onto the madman's face, crawling through his expression and revealing a set of perfect pearly whites, refracting the pale sunlight of the early morning as they did so. Finally, Ayden slammed the drum magazine back into Typhon proper, smiling that demonic smile of his, looking off into the middle-distance as he cycled the bolt and released a sigh, gentle, slow, and almost deathly.

"It's been too long since there's been a good fight about," Gloved black fingers danced along the polished framework of the gun, almost caring, a caressing grasp as his finger curled gently around the trigger, holding the USAS-12 at ease. Sure, he was engaged, now... and he loved Jeu-Hee, but that didn't matter. Ayden's eyes narrowed; a fight... a fight was a fight. "Don't you agree, Reila?" The smile only widened ever further, the chilling breeze of the Amestrian north washing over Ayden, the assassin's body embracing and welcoming it as goosebumps rose on what little pale flesh was still visible. "Far too long indeed," A low, dry chuckle escaped the threshold of the lesser General's mouth, black coat billowing in the harsh breeze behind his tall, gaunt frame.

It would certainly be a day to remember... Ayden knew that much. Perhaps the most eventful since the appearance of his would-be prodigy, his apprentice, the protégé under his wing now still; and perhaps the most glorious and bloody the man had experienced since his tenure in Esparia, or the Ballzini crusades... ah, only time would tell, Ayden knew from many a day wading through the corpses, blood, and entrails of his enemies, intermingled with the stench of death, cordite, and the light ting of spent cartridges and shed bullet casings touching the floor...

Certainly a day to remember indeed...

[Felix Lucas]

Akito sat on top of the fort after making his last report to whoever was on the other end of this radio, and began polishing his handgun with a small cloth for the millionth time. Granted, this didn't improve anything, but it was something to do with his hands. After rubbing it down for a couple minutes, he stood back up, grabbed his rifle, and looked down around the fort through the scope. Still better than a pair of binoculars in his opinion. He saw something moving down there.
"Hello, what have we here?", he said to himself. He looked a little harder at the movement that had piqued his interest. It was someone rearranging some trash at different points around Briggs. Interesting, but then again, North City had to have its psychos and OCD people and who knows what other conditions would motivate someone to risk military property to rearrange trash. He was about to report this when he heard Briggs' PA come on, giving a warning to prepare for something that was most definitely not an avalanche. Akito took this as a cue, loading a magazine into his rifle, sliding another into place on his handgun, slinging the rifle onto his back, holstering the pistol, and heading inside the watchtower, where he saw a pretty decent crowd gathered on the floor a little below him, where Reila's office connected. Walking down the steps as fast as he could, he waved at Reila to get her attention.
"Ma'am, I just recently noticed someone near the fort who looked like they were messing around with some garbage. I don't know why. I figured coming to tell you in person was more discreet than using the radi-" He cut himself off as he saw Mr. Peach in the room as well. "Mr. Peach? What are you doing here?" Shaking his head, he looked around the room once more. "Wait, I need to do something now, before I have to do anything else." Since there were multiple people in his room, Akito figured he had time to do this now, and he might not have the time or the relative warmth to have the coat off for even a small amount of time elsewhere, he took off his coat, placed in on the ground, and emptied the shale and obsidian pieces out of the pouch on his belt and onto the circle in the coat. Brushing the shale to the side, he transmuted the obsidian into five throwing knives, nicely balanced ones, if he had to say so himself, and slid them into a pocket of the coat where he could get at them. The shale, he made into a handful of sharp caltrops that went back into the pouch, so they didn't stab him. He put the coat back on, shook his shoulders, and awaited instruction of some sort.

[Murazar Dauthi]

WITHIN FORT BRIGGS --- Office of Ft. Briggs Intelligence --- AKA the S2 Shop or the Foundry
April XX, 2012: 05:00 Central Time (CT)

Murazar left the screen on so he could see Reila and anyone else who popped into view. In other words keep and open line of constant flowing battle data and plans to the one who enacted them. Murazar flew through all the data on his computer and compiled it in his head while his team constantly submitted intel, possibilities, possible enemy plans or tactics, past ones, experimental projects, request for intel procedures and more UAV’s. He granted all the request, anything and everything was vital to the immediate defense and survival of those inside Briggs.

He came up with something in his mind that sounded like the best possibility for what was going to happen, it was a gamble. If he was wrong they would lose more lives than it would save and they’d lose a foothold faster than losing it slower. Their reaction time to the proaction time of the Drachman forces was too slow. No matter what the first move and piece of the game was theirs...Murazar just wanted to force it to cost them more than otherwise deserved. He stood up and look back to Reila his posture rigid and strong. His tone as he spoke frozen with calm, coldness, fierce concentration and the obvious gambling of lives about to be spoken of.

“Reila. I believe from our currently greatest weakness and from their strengths the Drachman forces will most likely assault via Air and Artillery whilst landing Air Assault soldiers from the helicopters to security our top layer defenses. They know from prior attempts that this is our weakest and most vulnerable position while simultaneously being one of greatest defenses. Most of our counter-artillery and anti-air capabilities are up there. Once those Helicopters land on the roof so to speak, we’ll be unable to properly fight back and we’ll either have to try and retake the roof in order to try and fight off the attack before they secure it. Or we’ll have to disable our own defenses and prevent them from assaulting downward without explosives or cutting torches.”

He paused to let the information sink in before he spoke up again, unhesitatingly giving his recommendation. ”Our best shot is to rig our defenses to explode on switches and to fight back just long enough to get those switches installed and as many of our men out of there. If i’m right we’ll end up taking out more of their troops and hold them off until we can properly mobilize our soldiers and lead either a counter-attack or at least retake the roof with our own air power from the airfield. This course of action endangers us the least, the only downfall is if or when we retake the roof we wont have any defenses set up. At the least our own defenses wont be used against us.” He paused to let it sink in before returning to his work. The obviousness hung in the stale cold air.

Those men up there setting the charges would most likely all die, or at least most of them. Air assaults would be too fast and too precisely conducted. Murazar had calculations that they would most likely only destroy most of their own equipment before sealing the entrances/exits to the roof and preparing men one level down to fight back upon explosive or cutting torch entry. Murazar didn’t like the choice, it wasn’t effective enough or had enough time to reach maximum potential. Murazar kept his ears open and occasionally glanced at the screen to gauge Reila and await any questions. He started to issue out orders over the e-mail for everyone to prepare destruction of all paperwork of sensitive nature. If he was right in his head, they had a huge chance of losing Briggs and he wasn’t going to allow any classified material to be caught. At the least they could take the computers with them. That was one small blessing of laptops.

[Emmelin]

Patience grew thin and the woman was done waiting. by now, the men should be dispersed and she could have free-reign HELL to unleash upon these people. Did she know them? No. Did she give any shits? No. It was time to let the ball drop. Valeria had to restrain herself from the internal giggles that crackled and licked at her like an over glowing flame. No, there was no turning back now. The grin slid inside and she couldn't help but hake a hand in attempts to let the excess energy go off. Fragile. Such fragile beings to die by my unholy blade. Would her men make it? Did she really care? The woman without a heart only had one thing in mind and that was destruction. Blood stained streets and terrified screams. The time to attack was coming then. She was ready.

Upon the horizon, was the cries of war. One such Drahman attack, au la Ivanka. That was his name, right? Valeria couldn't be so sure. With her laughs filling her mind, she suddenly walked up to an officer and slid in place behind him. Beautiful blood. It pumped through his veins. "Sir. Do you have a moment?" She would ask, politely. The man turned and gave a questioning look. Val swiftly saluted the man, before he moved his lips to ask.

"Can I help you, Ma'am?" His voice was sweet like honey. Blood. She could see it. It excited her, really. The woman's eyes showed such a sweet smile as she walked up to him, closer still. She could feel it, the crimson nectar. The heart that pumped it through his veins. It needed to stop. NOW! Her hands moved swiftly, an army knife to the man's throat. A soft crimson spray. Valeria couldn't help but chuckle as the body grunted and squirmed a bit in surprise. A few final jerks, and he was gone. Pleasant. Warm blood, it covered her uniform. It was almost too tempting for her. Oh well, now was not the time for THOSE kinds of acts. More blood. She needed it.

A monster ate at the inside of her stomach. It numbed her inwardly, pawing with a need to eat. It wanted to devour them all, set the souls free. A pistol in her uniform, an army knife and her scythe, which was quickly grabbed from a hiding place. Death. It's not enough. MORE! Her breathing was almost as if she had run a mile, loud pants. She wanted it, to take these lives. Oh the thrill. The monster spoke more, Cleanse them all, wipe them away. The sinners, all of them had to perish and burn in Hell. Throwing the body from her body, inadvertently spraying more blood, the signal had been sent. "GO!" She hissed into the hidden microphone. The games had started.

All over the city, men turned on men. People in uniforms, turned to strike their brothers in arms. Some were more stealthy than others. How many men were there? Not everyone turned at the same time, of course. Each was upon their own pace, but all were eager. Val herself, had gained a first kill as she turned to see a terrified man. Laughing a bit louder than intended, she ducked forward with great speed and found her scythe in his skull. Blood. Beautiful blood. How it poured and dripped into the snow. Valeria let out a soft gasp of pleasure, before twirling it to remove the blade from his skull. The man crumpled, dead instantly. Oh this was fun.

The bullets started and she darted around a corner. Cat and mouse. Come here, kitty, kitty. She whispered in her mind. Luring these men into a corner, it seemed so logical. Her feet would pivot and she ducked forward. She was of course, better than a normal officer. A scare was there though, a bullet flying and skimming her cheek, before she spun her scythe and threw it, effectively slaughtering two, before pulling out her own pistol and shooting two at the other two followers. Ammo. Leaning down, she threw down her old one, and grabbed a new two from the deceased, along with a clip. This WOULD be fun. Her eyes surveyed the men as they attacked. Battles where she couldn't even tell who her own men were. Again, Val gave no fucks on that. One man was all that interested her. How would he enjoy HER game? She wondered with a sly smile on her lips.

Come out and play. She spoke in her mind, as if he could hear her. Oh there were others there, no doubt. However, she didn't care about them. A game was before her. She had the upper hand for now. Running to her scythe, she gripped it tight in hand. Blood dripped again. Blood. Oh how the chant remained in her head. Not enough.... NOT ENOUGH! Her heart hammered with adrenaline and in fact, she began to sweat as a few of her hairs began to sprinkle upon her face. She was already dyed with blood. BANG! BANG!

Her hand had raised and the bullets were fired before she even realized it. Where had her legs carried her, even? Back of the head, both of them. They didn't even have time to shout. Oh, so sad they died with smiles on their faces. Val snorted and walked over, slamming her foot into the jaw of one body, before kicking it roughly into another officer and then, BANG. Another shot. She'd be running out of a gun soon. That was fine, with the count she had up there already, she wasn't really that worried about it. Another bullet shot whizzed past her. her hairs flew a bit from the close call that nicked her ear. Oh that was close.~ A smile flew onto her lips further. Oh what fun, she was having...

[Dai]

"Hello. Just needed to hear your voice. Okay bye." The bland tone of a hung-up phone called to him, beeping over and over again as he continued to hold the cellular device up with a soft smile. "See-ya." Chuckling quietly, the man started to move his feet again, preparing to walk towards the bedroom from which he had arisen from. It was strange; there was something of a heavy air on this morning: an air that worried him somewhat, his eyes darting from wall-to-wall with a soft and careful gaze. "My, my." Placing his hands into his pockets and letting his fingers warm up from the coldness that spread over them, the man shook his head and smiled softly. As his footsteps resounded within the silent halls of Briggs, he heard something else--a set of rushing footsteps. Slowly turning his body, the red eyes took notice of a few people running out to the side, glancing back at him and then continuing onwards. A quick look at his surroundings, and the redhead noticed that there were no weapons nearby, before creeping back around the corner with a soft growl. Those uniforms were not of Briggs make, or were something attempting to appear to be of Briggs make. Quickly sliding around the corner, he was met with... nothing. Blinking a couple of times, the man took two steps forwards, before feeling it--"AH!"

A hand yanked away at the long red hair that fell behind his head, pulling him backwards. Struggling and crying out, the man attempted to turn his gaze to look, but was unable to move far enough around to properly see. A hurried and angered voice shouted at him in Drachman--"Na kaleni, suka." Hm. Maybe if he knew what that said, he would be more scared than he was now--His eyes widened slightly, and the hair was pulled again, dragging him closer and closer into the jaws of the beast. Planting a foot down, the redheaded man tried to keep himself in a stationary position, but knew that nothing would work with ease. Shouting out from the strain, he felt his body being pulled backwards--he would fall down if he wasn't stable enough. Gritting his teeth hard from the pain of his hair being pulled, he tried to struggle and escape, but to no avail. Managing to turn his head enough, the glint of a knife was apparent. "Is this... the end?" He couldn't give up... Reila would... Reila would kill him for dying!

"Good Morning! The weather is at a high -2 with scattered blizzards and a 40% chance of frostbite~" A smirk crossed pained lips. Speak of the angel. She seemed happy enough--was she not aware of the Drachman troops that were now within Briggs itself? His eyes were almost popping out of their sockets now, the man putting every resource he had to trying to escape from the tight grip of the Drachman Commando. The other had ignored the cheerful voice that came through the speakers, and when the tone changed, Dai's heart skipped a beat or two. "In other news, an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly." He grinned. "Hear that, Drachman?" The other did not, but when the sudden blaring of sirens and lights came into the silent world, well...

[GO]

"TOO SLOW!" The Drachman man hesitated and took fright from the suddenness of the blaring alarms and the confident shout from the Aerugese-Ishvallan. That was all that Daigoro needed, using the sudden moment of hesitation on the part of the attacker to push himself backwards, get around the knife and twist his leg around the Drachman's, pulling out and attempting to trip him. When nothing happened, Dai's fist was found entering the gut of the other, pushing him backwards and trying to get him to release. The knife clattered on the ground near Dai's foot, but the man's other hand didn't let go. Another check of the situation revealed that Dai's attacker was wearing, on his right hand, a hefty amount of combat-class automail. Auto-locking system included. Impressive. Unfortunately, not helpful for Dai, in any way. Clenching his teeth, Dai made another attempt, knocking his attacker to the ground. As he did not let go, Dai felt the entire weight of the man pulling at his head. Pain blasted throughout his entire skull, the man gnashing his teeth wildly. There was only one thing to do. Reaching down in order to pick up the knife, he gripped it tightly in his right hand and closed his eyes. If he went into close-quarters combat while the other had a lock on his hair, there would be no competition. The other would have total control, able to fling Dai as they pleased. Instead, he would remove that control forcibly.

Turning the knife over in his hand, the male swallowed. He'd put a lot of time and effort into it, so to cut it away was such a waste. Closing his eyes, the man took in a deep breath. The pain would go away. Reaching the knife up, he heard shouts of protest coming from the man below him, who, due to their positions, was unable to move either. The knife came across taut hair, and with a quick motion, Daigoro began to cut raggedly through the tightness. With difficulty and a little bit of time, he managed to saw through the locks, feeling a piece of him fall away with every cut. Closing his eyes and swallowing bile backwards, he made the last cut and felt himself pull forwards, not losing momentum and spinning around on his left foot, looking down at the helpless Drachman who was both attempting to unlock his hand and get off of the ground--not an easy task when the ground was somewhat-iced, but a lot easier for a Briggs man. Watching him with almost deadly eyes, Daigoro waited for the Drachman to stand, before pushing off of the ground and lunging straight for him. Something had changed. Something had gone differently. As the hair had fallen...

He gave no quarter, his body would not stop. First, a fist to the side of the face, feeling the flesh fold under his bone. Next, he would jump, raising a leg into the air and bringing it around, clashing with the same place and knocking the man to the side, causing him to stumble. Landing once more, Dai didn't allow for any time to rest, moving to the other side of the Drachman and planting another fist into the gut of the soldier, knocking him back up and onto his feet, stumbling backwards further. Without warning, the foot was slid around backwards and used to push forwards once more, Daigoro keeping low and barging his shoulder into the chest of the Drachman man, feeling his body give way and knocking him to the ground. "You dare... invade us?" Without flinching, Dai's knee was on the chest of the Drachman, and the blade was at his throat. In the light that shone down behind him, the wild-looking, red-haired, red-eyed man would look demonic to this Drachman; so much so that he would begin shouting out cries of prayer to whatever God he believed in. Understanding that one word, Dai sighed and shook his head. "Do what you want. It won't save you now."

The knife was drawn across sharply, severing the throat of the man. Now exposed to air, the blood in his system would quickly cool down, freezing over the neck and suffocating him before causing him to bleed out. Slowly standing up off of his body, Dai shook his head and wiped the blood off of the blade, putting it down in his hand and shaking his head once more. "You were willing to kill me--I simply gave you back the same. I don't like it, but I will survive. Rest in peace." Turning away, Dai's feet started moving rapidly once more, carrying him towards his bedroom. He needed Alchemy, fast. His hands planted on the drawers, he picked up a glove and a couple of spares, shoving the other two into a pocket and grabbing the cellular device out of the other. Raising it up to his ear, the man quickly dialled the number of a one Reila Tsukino, hoping that she would pick up. Whether or not she did, he would speak. "I just got out of a tussle with a damn Drachman infiltrator, about a hundred feet from my room. I'm going to head to the arms development room and make sure its completely locked up. I might bring some armaments along too. I'll meet you, wherever you are. Keep... keep safe. I'll keep in contact. I... I love you." Biting his bottom lip softly, he hung up the phone and peeled away from his room, heading straight for the armory.

As he arrived in the room, he found that it had not been infiltrated as of yet, which meant that his office was still intact as well. Silently entering into the room, the man made familiar motions to open up the laboratory, traipsed in through the door and picked up about ten strange-looking blocks and a shotgun off of the ground. He didn't have time to bring forth any more armaments and, to be quite honest, this was enough. A SPAS-12, specifically designed to fire antimatter rounds with his Alchemy. There was little he could do in close combat with it, but it also fired off normal ammunition (which explained why he carried so much). Sighing quietly, he slipped it onto his back and walked out of the room, pressing a button as he went past and activating the extra defences. Adding onto the already-reinforced walls, the additional reinforcement would mean that, above all else, Dai's secrets would not be compromised. Tapping on the wall would reveal it to be solid. Walking out of the armory itself, Dai started to head towards the watchtower that he assumed everyone would be at--the best place for looking over the Drachman side of Briggs. Would he make it there? Who knew?

[Guest]

Ayden's neck snapped towards the source of three sequential noises. Faint but to the most honed of ears, but present and distinct all the same. One he knew too well, one which came in many a variety but spoke volumes of the individual who had caused it, and, more importantly, their intentions: the gunshot. So perfect a symbol crafted of audio, shattering the brooding silence the troops had become so accustomed too, off in Briggs proper.

The noises themselves were too faint to accurately identify the make and model of the weapon in question, but every shot was unique. In its rises, its falls, its duration, tempo, its pitch... just as a symphony was the same, any rhapsody forged of the crack of muzzle flashes and the ting of empty cartridge casings falling upon the floor was clear, and simple on the top, but so definitively complex underneath, and the more you dug, the more appealing and intriguing it became.

A smile arched over the pale assassin's face as muscles all over his body rippled in minute contraction, tightening entirely as a unit, a gloved hand slipping to Typhon's hilt, and another to the bolt upon the frame to draw it back with a steady slide, and a resounding click. Eyes aflame with sheer insanity, Ayden giggled and commented. "There's my call~!"

He vanished into the corridors once more in an instant, bursting back through the watchtower and descending the stairs, heading to where he'd tried to pinpoint the noise's origin. It was a corridor, not too close, but not too far... he cruised through the familiar catwalks and coarse metal walls with ease thanks to their familiarity now; but the distant stench of propellant and shed blood hit his nostrils, the persona of his moonlight occupation overcoming him as the grin arched ever wider upon his face.

A trail of spilt blood trickled down into the corridor proper as he spun around and surveyed the room. Six corpses littered the floor in a trail, each seeping blood, some still smoking from the open exit wounds in the back of two heads. Now, a few more frightened soldiers, garbed in the traditional Briggs uniform, twitched and quivered, cradling standard-issue rifles and looking downrange at the single form who stood there.

[INITIATE BATTLE THEME]

Brown hair, slender frame. Pistol cradled in one hand, and her scythe at her side. Pale, silver eyebrows rose in unison above deep cerulean pools as Ayden's eyes locked and recognised the figure near-immediately, from the scythe, the mannerisms, that snarl-grin sitting upon her face. Aggression unparalleled and most intriguing... but familiar all the same. Valeria Diablos. This was an unexpected turn of events, to say the least.

It all clicked at once as he marched through the veritable rivers of blood soaking the floor and seeping ever further, black upon crimson as he continued, letting the shotgun fall, suspended in pendulum motion on a leather strap as two black-clad hands collided with each other in sequence. Slow, steady, near-sarcastic sequence. Clap, clap, clap.

Shots continued to skim her as she stood there, now responsible for the murders of six Briggs personnel. The ornate calligraphy upon the letter he'd so wilfully ignored. Every ounce of foreshadowing, every seductive twist hanging upon her words. Was the protégé act merely that, a ruse to try and get closer, a reasoning for finding Briggs? Or since their first meeting, had circumstances changed too heavily, and had Valeria simply been... opportunistic?

Anger should've coursed through his veins in place of ice-cold blood, but little changed for Ayden - infact, this merely interested him more. He could now duel this woman, who was so interesting, so intriguing; he could duel his own apprentice, the girl who'd taken his words a touch too seriously and proved herself with an infiltration and near-suicidal attack on Briggs itself. "Miss Diablos," The General muttered, cocking his head once more and letting his hands fall to his side as a giggle ruptured forth, splitting that pale, calm expression, and what little sanity the man still possessed. "Good show, good show indeed..."

His grip tightened firmly around the USAS-12 as he pressed the stock into his shoulder, stopping maybe thirty metres from her. "But..." Boots ground to a halt, leaving eerie crimson prints in the metal beneath. "As any writer or composer worth his salt knows..." A smile lit up his face like wildfire. "Every piece..." The first round had been primed and chambered now for hours, but Ayden finally kicked it all into readiness with a simple flick of his fingers, disengaging the safety switch. "...has its finale."

The gas-actuated hydraulic displacement launched the rounds not into Valeria, but exactly where Ayden placed them, twisting and contorting his upper body as he pulled the trigger twice. One above her left shoulder, and one above her right, to even the game a touch. But it was no shell or slug that launched; no, there were high-explosive fragmentation rounds, solid as a rock until they made an impact... and then...

BOOOOOM!

The corridor erupted with orange flames as the rounds collided into the wall, engulfing where Valeria had been standing. The concussive shockwaves released slammed into even Ayden, the assassin gritting his teeth and throwing up an arm to defend himself as he held Typhon at his side with a single hand. But above these clenched jaws, murderous azure flames of sheer insanity flickered in rings around tiny dot-like irises. And those clenched teeth released, and the mouth holding them opened, revealing the deepest and widest of fleshy black voids within, and a cocky, beckoning laughter roaring forwards, a challenge to Valeria, had she survived. It was universal, no matter what language you spoke, or what country you hailed from...

"GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

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