TITLE YOUR POST

[Guest]

Everything that was happening in the car was a blur, it all left just as quickly as it came. Before she could say anything, her hands were pulled towards his chest and she was inches away from his lips.

"Let them fight and take no side. It will be for our victory in the end." He said so smoothly, with a bit of a playful smirk tugging on the edges of his cheeks. The car came to a sudden stop, everything was beginning to unfold and the plane would happen within a matter of minutes. "Don't mourn me; fix what was lost." He speaks as she turns to look out the window but before she had a chance her lips were thrusted against his. The intoxicating kiss would be enough to kill this man if he continued with this much force. His chest presses firmly against hers and she lets out a faint moan of pleasure as the kiss grew more and more intense. He suddenly breaks free and exits the car before she had the opportunity to react to what had just happen.

She knew what she had done, she had killed him.

Dietrich let out a moan from his dream like state, snapping her back into reality. King was revving the engine, pissed off from the situation. She could see it in his face through the rear view mirror, his eyes said he all. She felt like knife was sent through her chest, from his stare. She grabs hold of Dietrich by the suit collar and yanks the man out of the car. "At least you're not stabbing me in the back, this way just hurts more than you know it." She mumbles to Gluttony as she pushes out the door. By the time she had drugged the Creta leader out of the car, Aurelius was gone. He headed straight for central, hanging on by a thread of life. The touch of him on her lips, sent a wave of emotion that she felt deep inside. His love was the oxygen she needed, but hers was enough to kill him.


"Let the chaos begin." She announces in her cell phone to all the RIOTE militants that were waiting specifically for her go ahead. After that, Vanity lets Dietrich drop to the ground with a large thump before standing there in the street looking around. What was she going to do with this man? She stands there in silence, tapping her finger to her chin before looking over at Lust.

"I think I'm going to take him to my old place. It's right near The Central HQ and a perfect spot for him to be held in hiding." She rattles off before looking back down at the leader. She had to get him out of this heat, he didn't look right being drenched in dirt and sweat. The leader of Drachma looks around the area once more as she figures out how to get him there. Sure she was strong, but she wasn't about to drag this man down the street to her former apartment. It was only three blocks away, but still, it didn't seem fitting for either of them.

She looks over to her left and spots a sporty BMW parked on a side street. 'Perfect' she told herself before tugging the man over to the flashy car. She breaks the glass window with her high heel and opens the unlocked car door. She manages to stuff Dietrich into the passenger side of the car and looks back over at Lust. She raises her cell phone and text Lust the address and room number to the apartment before sliding into the driver seat. The keys were left in the car, probably from a frantic man too scared from the emergency evacuation. She threw the car into first gear, followed by second, third, fourth and finally fifth in a fluid motion. Vanity was flying down the side streets, racing down the three blocks towards her apartment. She carries the man up the grand steps to the three floor, where her apartment was located. She opens the door with the extra key she kept from forever ago and walks in with the man. A middle age man was hiding underneath the kitchen counter and raised a gun at the woman.

"One more step and I blow your fucking head off, I swear I will" He demanded as he cocked the gun back.

"Oh great, another wanna be hero." She spoke as if she wasn't phased and she drops Dietrich where he was at the door entrance and blows an intoxicating kiss at the unwelcoming man. Followed by a rounded kick into his jaw as she leaps up into the air at him. The man fires the gun off into the ceiling before falling to the ground paralyzed. Her eyes jolted to a kitchen knife and she grabs the handle and rams it into the back of his neck, killing the innocent man. "That was easy." She drops the knife and wipes the her hand off on a dish towel by the sink. She returns back to the door, shuts it and locks the dead bolt. She carries the Cretan off into the master bedroom and flops him onto the bed. She searches the bed stand dressers and finds a pair of naughty handcuffs and twirls them around her finger, while chuckling at the situation. Who would of thought, right? Vanity handcuff Dietrich to the bed railing before walking into the master bathroom and grabbing a damp towel from the sink. Even in the worst of situations, Vanity wanted this man to at least look presentable. After all, she would expect the same thing if the roles were reversed.

"Dietrich, you had all the potential in the world and yet here you are, handcuffed to a bed." She shakes her head as she continues to wash way the smudge dirt along his cheek bones and over his forehead. She bites her lower lips and drops the towel by his side once he was clean enough for her standards. Alena then walks over towards the window, searching for any sign of Aurelius at Central. If anything went down at Central HQ, she had a direct view of the war from this window. Her chest pounds against her rib cage and she awaits her next move.

[Shula Brighton]

Sleep-deprived red eyes stared down at the plastic screen of her phone, lingering as the screen went idle and blacked out and left only Shula's tired reflection. The phone slipped back into her pocket with a sigh. So far Central was still in one piece and RIOTE wasn't there. Yet. So far, cell phones and communications with and around Central were still holding, even though sources from Briggs were still iffy at best and nobody had been in contact from inside the fortress personally. There was no reason her message to Spade shouldn't have gone through, and yet, some part of her was worried that because of the panic and everyone calling to and from the area that the message would be lost in hammerspace. Yes, she knew that Spade already knew that Shula loved him; she didn't really need to say it. But saying it felt better, especailla during moments like this when she knew they were all standing on the razor's edge of a sword that was their fate as a whole.

Everything seemed so surreal, even though Shula knew very well that it wasn't some lucid dream or a drill, and was really happening. The world was falling apart in its entirety, and Amestris was one of the biggest hurdles for RIOTE to take on, but knowing them, they wouldn't run and jump over it fairly. No, they'd set up an elaborate race with all the horns and ceremony, let the runners start, and then before anyone crossed the finish line they'd blow up all the hurdles, the finish line, and half the track so nobody could clearly state if they'd won or lost in the chaos. Fuckers. Shula was turning away from her door as it opened, anticipating the nearly to-the-minute reports that she'd been receiving steadily. She'd turned away just for a moment to look at the sunrise. She loved sunrises. They were always like a sign of life to her, the start of something new, when all her life she'd compared herself to an approaching sunset. But how many had she taken time to savour and enjoy? Those few, precious days off with sunrise yoga, and even rarer days she either managed to coax Spade into waking early enough to watch them, or staying up late enough to watch them together. Like that morning she'd work up after sleeping three days. That sunrise she was truly grateful for.

The door opened and closed, footsteps rushing toward her desk. "Brigadier-General? May I have a word?" Shula turned back around, looking a bit surprised to see Lisbeth there. Lis looked just as tired and stressed as Shula figured she looked, too, and seemed to be needing something urgently. At the moment, what wasn't needed urgently? "Xing has fallen to Aerugo and Lord Dietrich has been taken by RIOTE. I request permission to join Central in their fight against them." For a moment, Shula wondered if she hadn't drifted off and was having one of those weird lucid dreams you have when you're exhausted and half-awake and your brain just processes whatever the hell it wants. Her second in command had just asked, in the middle of a crisis, to leave her post. Shula was dreaming. She blinked, quiet as she stared at Lis for a moment until her brain checked all its guages and and lights, confirmed that she was awake, had heard that right, and without thought or hesitation, answered.

"Denied." There was no confusion or falter, or even much room to argue. Aerugo and Amestris had been on rocky for years as it was; now that they had RIOTE backing them and had managed to make the whole of Xing surrender in a day, that was too great a threat to ignore. Shula looked up from her desk at Lisbeth, not waivering or even debating her own immediate choice. "We still have refugees coming in from Central and the surrounding cities, and the Chancellor will be escorted here soon. With RIOTE backing Aerugo and their border right at our back door, and South being the weakest and most understaffed of the bases, we're too much of a liability. Amestris can't afford for any of us to leave this area." There was no agonizing sigh from Shula; no flushing of her cheeks that would betray her own frustration and fear that came from knowing her friends were where their enemies were headed; no outward projection of the cold, heavy knot lurking in her stomach and seeping into Shula's veins knowing that her fiancé would be leading the fight against RIOTE and Aurelius' attempts to snuff all of them out for his own goals.

She drew in another breath slowly. "The Chancellor's envoy should be here soon. I need you to prepare an alternate route on the feeder road. Bring them away from the highway, out around the East loop, and they'll enter South City from the back roads since they'll be empty. I want escorts waiting for them, and a team positioned along the highway in the woods. I want the Chancellor and his wife to get here without a hitch. Dismissed." Their orders from Central were to protect their people and the border; if Central and Briggs fell, South would be all that was left against RIOTE. She didn't want to think about the possibility of that fight and its outcome. It wasn't an option. Somehow, if it came down to it, South would fight and win to keep RIOTE from killing them all or all of South would go down together trying. Shula turned away, finally understanding the strain her grandfather must have felt all those years he was a General at this very base. Having to decide between your friends, your loves, and your country. That decision was given to Shula to make, and even though Lis might hate her for it, she'd made her choice clear to the Colonel and would clarify it for anyone else who wasn't sure where the Ishvallan stood on the matter. It was a decision she'd seen Spade make before, in Drachma. And Shula knew that Spade would forgive her for choosing the same as he had.


(POSTING ORDER: Hans > Central (I suggest giving an entire time lapse of the waiting period like I did) > Cretan Militants (only those coming to save Dietrich) > Vanity > Aurel > RIOTE (Start the attack) > Central Starts and then Free for all of RIOTE and Central > Aurel > Dietrich > Xan > RIOTE (Start the civil war) > Xingese Militants, Aerugese Militants, Esparian Dudes, Gelemortian Militants, Fort Briggs, and Central free for all
^If it doesn't say free for all, you only post ONCE.]

[Spade Aeries]

"God, I need a smoke," Spade muttered to himself, slamming the coffee mug down so hard the handle cracked off. He stared at it a moment, lost in the realization that he totally just broke his favorite mug. Fuck. Really? Come on. He sighed, exiting stage left. His office now abandoned, empty bowls of beef stew lay scattered along desks, stale bread glaring at him on a giant platter. As he passed, his hand caught a roll, shoving breakfast beyond his lips as his eyes scanned the premises. Nothing amiss, quiet. Too quiet. Just like in fucking action films. Stuntman at the ready? His heart was in his throat, briefly noticing a blanket was still draped over his shoulders like a cape. Super Spade. He let it fall off without a care, but he didn't have his cellphone so he turned back, stooping down to grab the blanket in one movement and throw it over a swivel chair. They could worry about organization tomorrow if the building wasn't once again debris at their feet. Barely breathing, his fingertips brushed the discarded iPhone, planting it in his pocket where he knew it wouldn't be safe. He had it; that was all the mattered. Contact. It was a means of contact if the radios went dead. Even now, various orders, codes, voices were streaming past his ears, registering in his mind as translated snippets of information he needed in order to get by--needed in order to make his own orders. The Chancellor, Hans, was the man standing over them--the shadow cast on the world--the blanket concealing hearts in the cover of darkness. Quiet. So quiet it was as if there was no one else left alive. They had all died, the voices flying over the channel just ghosts, waking dreams in the real world here to tell him they were all Markus'--they were all Josef's--they were all the faces with broken arms reaching through snow, screaming with mouths frozen open in the wordless suffering of a failed leader. Yet he still slept at night, the blanket on some random guy's chair proof enough that he was on his way to losing his humanity entirely.

The hallway, too, was vacated with heavy echoes of his own footsteps, faint breathing, murmured curses. He came to Csilla's office, bursting through the door without knocking or acknowledgement. Fwaaap, the door slammed against the opposing wall, jade eyes nearly surreal with the sheer amount of anger resonating through his skull and out the other side in an aura around him. The Dragon's pulse gathered through his tethered body, rearing its feral head with beady eyes like smoldering coals of black ice, all the riches in the world its scales, grave markers as claws. She was curled up in a chair at the corner of her office, blond hair in a bun now messy around her face. A blanket very similar to one he found on himself was resting over her, shifting with every intake of breath. The sound seemed to have alerted her, for she woke with a start, staring at him with wide eyes. Spade reacted quite unlike himself, making no move to comfort her from his sudden appearance. Instead, his laid back demeanor bled off as if it were an illusion this entire time, a different man standing before her with serious eyes, predicting the end. In short, they were fucked.

"Secure a perimeter," Spade ordered, no hesitation, no usual slur to his words; just straight up authority. "Keep it far back for when we have to retreat." He paused as if to catch his breath, eyes transitioning fast into those that met the barrel of a gun. His hands at his sides shook slightly, his teeth tight, eyes blazing. "We lost contact with Xing this morning." Ace could be dead. "London is still on fire." They were fighting a losing battle, but the fighting hadn't even begun. "We have to defend our city." When retreating would save more lives. "Be the shield," he whispered, turning slightly towards the door and staring through it as if everything outside was already ablaze. He pushed the door back open with the toe of his boot, turning back a final time as if she were their last hope. "Save as many as you can." The door shut and Spade was gone.

It was like walking through a graveyard, beaming through the distance, cobwebs becoming skin. The radio continued with sounds, men sounding optimistic, full of national pride and confidence despite having lost to RIOTE once before. They were coming, but Amestris was ready. They were coming, but Spade knew what they had wasn't good enough. There was no where to go. He laughed to himself, staring at his hands, nearly seeing the energy pulsing from his body, wreathed around him like his father's crown. But that's the only thing we have in common, pops. He never wanted kids. He'd turn out like the old man that way, he'd end up gone most nights, sleeping around, ruining their family, slayed by the hand of his own child after abandoning the other. Hah, abandoned. Was that what he really thought? If I had stayed there... we would have starved. I would have never met...Shirley. Spade put his hands away, staring ahead instead. Dayyymn, was his life already flashing by? This was bad; he hadn't even started playing war yet. You know those guys, not just guys, but those crazy scraggly fuckers with missing teeth, dirt under their fingernails, stringy gray hair laced with the grease of a thousand missed showers-- homeless dudes who were homeless not because of their own stupid mistakes, but because they were fucking crazy? Yeah, those. The ones with the goddamn signs. Those signs that predicted things that people rolled their eyes at when they passed by. For some, it was trick of sympathy. 'Those sorry suckers, here take my change from 7-11,' the passerby would think. For the others, they really were batshit crazy, babbling nonsensical bullshit about apocalypses and 'The End is Nigh'. Right now, Spade wanted one of those signs. Hell, maybe he was finally losing it...or maybe they were finally right.

Bzz. I love you. He was staring at his phone, stopped in the middle of the hall like a statue. It wasn't the digital words on screen that halted all inklings of thoughts, but the sender. Shu, it said. He had no reaction, but the immediate end of everything. He had just lost everything. In the quick moment his eyes gathered the light for his mind to interpret, something broke inside him. He dropped his phone, hand flying to cover his mouth as if he was about to say something he didn't want to hear...or didn't want anyone else to hear. The sound of his cell hitting the tiled floor resonated down the expanse of Central Head Quarters, waking him up from the repugnance of debris. If they got through Central, South would be next. Spade's arms went slack, hand dropping from his face to hang pathetically at his side. Love was a vile, cruel thing. It spat in his face, it gnawed at his soul until all that was left was a rumpled remnant of what could be considered Spade Aeries. But it also brought him back, made him undergo something he never thought he'd experience: selfless abandon. This was his element; this was his playing field, and to hell with the fuckers that thought they could march in and overtake his city. They cast the die now it was time to make the bets.

"Angelika," Spade crackled onto the radio, bending to retrieve his phone, "help Csilla with organizing a perimeter. It's only a matter of time. Get that set up." He fiddled with his phone, holding it as he walked towards the staircase down. "Attention all Central Command. It's cooler out today--too much time has passed I want all of you to assemble your positions outside. Wake those still sleeping. Don't waste a second." Even his own voice sounded weird to him. Maybe I'm catching a cold. In the summer? You've got to be kidding me. He leaped down the stairs, skipping two, three, tripping on a few, using the railing like a drunk teenager in college. It reminded him of Creta, studying the how-to's of being a private eye. He and Markus, sliding down the railings like goons, dodging authoritative assholes who wanted to ruin their after class fun. Where was he now? How the hell did he even get here. Ah, lady luck you've been so kind to me. Ranks were a cinch, meeting the right people, flaunting the right skills, he fell into it; all he had to do was agree.

"--LEMEN OF AMESTRIS," a voice growled through the broadcast channel of the radio. Spade burst through the first floor doors into the morning air still wet from the evaporating night dew. He heard an echo. "THE TIME OF YOUR RECKONING IS NIGH." See, the signs would have been helpful.

"Open fire," Spade beckoned, immediately hearing scattered gunfire in the distance. He ran for it, hopping into the nearest vehicle heading away towards the outskirts of the city.

"BEFORE THE SUN SETS, EVERY SOLDIER IN THIS PATHETIC CITY WHO DARE RESIST WILL MEET THEIR END BEFORE ME AND MY ILK."

"Shut that bastard UP," Spade commanded, his hands clutching the front of the armored jeep in impatience.

Loud canon fire blew up the horizon red, leveling an entire row of apartment complexes. Fuck, there went the cheap 24-hour convenient store with good booze. "I AM TARTARUS. AND ALL OF AMESTRIS WILL BOW TO MY WRATH." And they really had good variety. He used to go there every night after work, even the bombings hadn't hit the damned place. The jeep hurled to a stop, RIOTE soldiers at twelve o'clock, gun-totting Spade firing his first shot, felling his first enemy. No one got between him and his shit. "No one gets passed."

[Guest]

Like most people of the now, Oliver suffered from sleepless nights and just as tiresome days and was currently occupying some weird limbo time frame, his thoughts filled with concerns for Anthony - who had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth. His fingers nimbly clutched at the book he was engrossed, trying to ignore the occasional bustle of soldiers through central. Soldier? He never really considered himself such, he was a man of science and though a state alchemist he'd never fancied himself one for direct warfare. But life had a way of throwing these things at people in grand gestures and the voice booming through the speakers caused Oliver to drop his book and bolt up from his seat.

The diminutive man looked around cautiously, eyes locking onto the radio which had been gently playing music earlier instead of this god awful person yelling bloody murder. Oliver left the confines of his safe little room and was nearly knocked down by some soldiers who ran past, only avoiding being trodden to the ground thanks to his reflexes. Running a hand through his dark hair to make sure it was in place, Oliver followed suit and wandered outside. Was he expected to do something? He was a researcher for crying out-loud, maybe he should just let the other people deal with-wait was that gunfire? Oliver behaved like a cat thrown near water and sprung to the nearest wall, now on top alert.

[Csilla Angelis]

Sleep... it was nice. And Csilla needed as many hours of it as she could possibly get. That's why she was quite annoyed when her office door slammed open, snapping her out of her nap. It had only been a couple of hours since she had fallen asleep. SERIOUSLY, PEOPLE! Her eyes opened wide, half expecting an orderly to be telling her that RIOTE was attacking. Instead, she was mildly surprised to see a very angry Spade. Spade was usually on edge when war was looming, which was true of pretty much everyone. But this anger was new and Csilla was a tiny bit nervous.

“Secure a perimeter. Keep it far back for when we have to retreat. We lost contact with Xing this morning. London is still on fire. Be the shield. Save as many as you can.” Before Csilla had the chance to say a word, Spade was out the door. With a tired sigh, she saluted her closed office door. “Aye, sir.” She stood and took a few minutes to brush her hair and put it back in a secure ponytail. She then straightened her uniform and grabbed her pistol from the door at her desk. She then grabbed her lucky rifle, her gift from Dietrich after the Drachman war. As she exited the room, her radio crackled. Spade was giving orders to Angelika to help with the perimeter. Good, more help. She waited until Spade had finished issuing his orders before putting her own to her mouth. “Angelika, Csilla here. Secure an area out of Central, ideally towards South. Keep it clear, in case we need it.”

Clipping the radio back to her belt, she saw a group of soldiers gathered in the lobby. She called down to them as she descended. “Hey! Get another troop or two and come with me. We've got a perimeter to build!” Salutes were given all around and the troops got out of the Central HQ as a foreign voice came across the radios. Csilla frowned, her eyes growing dark. RIOTE. “Alright, men. Let's build this perimeter a bit faster, shall we?” RIOTE was moving into the city, by the sounds of gunfire in the distance. She directed them to head out with the heavy machinery and to cut off all roads that led directly to Central HQ. Csilla hopped herself on the back of a jeep, directing her delegation to face the west road from Central. Angelika was taking the south road, Spade had headed towards the east. She would face west and leave her men to guard the north. They all knew to reach her if they felt overwhelmed; she could darken an exit for them. But for now she needed to save her strength because if they needed that escape, she would have to gather a whole lot of light to manage it. She took a deep breath, listening as the gunfire and explosions began in more earnest. She glanced a look skywards. “Ares, watch over us.” Then she set up her rifle, waiting for the first RIOTE soldier to meet her bullets.

[Guest]

RIOTE, the anti-thesis organization to Nikolaus's agenda and very own club and cadre, they represent everything despicable about an organization given the hypocrisy rife with it, the wayward children that stray from their paths, and the fact they actually win through sheer numbers than skills. Nikolaus can recall the time in Drachma where droves were slaughtered by old artillery manned by conscripts and prisoners who were given a second chance at life serving as artillery crew and all. Suffice to say, they may have died, but Nikolaus smiles darkly to himself knowing he has singlehandedly ordered the destruction of Moscow, flattened many important cultural buildings, destroyed settlements and only left blood in the Communist moment's best moments of victory, turned sour by the Amestrian invasion. He never had a personal stake in this, only a lust to kill anyone, and so far, the Drachmans categorize to Nikolaus as sub-humans, worse than the dirt on his feet. They deserve to die if they epitomize numbers... a lot like Xing back then, a lot like those bastards.

War, it never changes, it never gets old. The General knew it intimately, he was often in the frontlines, often doing clean up operations, eliminations, assassinations, recon, and even genocides. It was all about the orders in the end, all about killing those sons of bitches for their countries, destroying them to make sure whatever it is to make the Amestrian regime live long would work, the external enemies. But this didn't stop the internal enemies from destroying the Fuhrer, and the Fuhrer after that to turn into the most disgusting traitors in the history of Amestris. It was very clear as a moment of clarity and wisdom settled in the General Stuka that the true enemy was never Amestris's outside as many believe and derive themselves into thinking. They can always be repulsed, they can always be bayonetted, bombarded, shot, killed. No, the true enemy was the very core of Amestris, the denial and readiness that they can rise so easily and quickly above their stations, become leaders, and to betray them in time... what Nikolaus was in was a war not between men, but the disgusting affair of children squabbling over an idiot cause. This whole fiasco between Drachma and Amestris was a result of poor planning, an idiotic one. Even the tactical strike meant to cripple Drachma's leadership did not even take out the Homunculus in charge.

Aye, Nikolaus knew clear as day about the events, about who is who in Drachma whereas Amestris languished in ignorance, unknown and stupid of the enemy they fought. They were nothing like the Amestris of the Fuhrer's time, the Fuhrer before the Fuhrer whom preceded the Chancellor himself. In the end, internal politics killed that Fuhrer off who was promised to lead Amestris to prosperity, the only cause, the only reason he had to live snuffed out of existence. Such thoughts sinking into Nikolaus in but a flash, such thinking, had made his hands shake with great fury and anger, he could not help but smile an angry one, sheer hate flowing through his blood to be waiting this long for the promised day. Children were led astray, and whomever could set them right disappeared. Even his ilk and kind such as Hei left for Drachma, and even then he disappeared. There was no more contact, only him alone in this world... but then he had no more regrets to hold him back. Nothing anymore. He gave an insane smile to Jay Furor, the kind a mad man or a visionary gives.

"I am so very happy... so very happy and angry... that RIOTE decided to invade Central." He cackles , "I have a promise to myself and you, fraulein, that for EVERY STEP OF THE WAY, thousands and thousands of Drachman bodies will pile for every inch of the way they gain towards South. Let's make every moment count, because after this war, I might as well have a vacation, maybe even get a statue of me built in Central City, I honestly don't give a shit, whatever the case, the most I want is to make those sons of bitches die for their country. Alchemy states that there must be equivalent exchange to get something... and this capital of ours? It will cost them their ENTIRE ARMY to hold it for just a day."

The one thing that beckoned for his attention more than Jay was a woman that he recognized not to be anyone assigned to the Central HQ. He had a good memory of everyone serving, or at least their faces, and if there was any transfers, due to RIOTE's infiltrators, there must be an awareness of Amestris's own personnel more than ever. Stuka took care to learn of that. Not really noting much of Jay's portable rotary cannon besides the fact it would be the sort of weapon Hei would actually use, it lacks finesse, suited towards static support and holding the damned line.

"Please excuse me, I know you are all very busy what with the news about Briggs, but I must ask a couple of questions. I am Captain Shokolat Anguissola, Head of Intelligence in Gelemorte. I am here to offer my assistance in this war. Who would I speak to about this?"

Gelemortian Intelligence eh? She must be either a horrible liar, or the Gelemortians actually have a sane person in their midst. A very rare sight but no time to question over given the calamity of this situation they are encountering.

"You found the right people then, Captain Anguissola. I'll keep this simple, you are to accompany the fine officer Furor here and protect the Chancellor, your contributions to Amestris will be heartily noted, and I'll be sure to send your King a gift, but now all that is honky dorey, get your ass moving and stick in formations." That was all there is to say, Nikolaus had to make it evident he was the commanding officer, but more importantly, he had to get to the Chancellor. It was not a question if he should or not, but when he does.

He strolled faster in his pace, one foot among the other in a moment or so, leaving behind Jay and the Chocolate woman. Leaving them behind in his stride of great fury as he felt the anger of everyone's stupidity, the incompetence, the compulsion to blow every brains out of every single soldiers, those wanting, and those cowardly. The fact that there was a retreat for a city that could be held was irritating. Solidified calcium that be his teeth grit and grit in a furious grind. Only then had he re-appeared, he donned his ceremonial uniform rife with the ranks appropriate to his standing, trench coat on, and a Hell of a load of firepower of everything he could muster up in his arsenal. A duffel bag filled with all sorts of ammo, his belt with holsters, and concealed underneath his trench coats instruments of inferno lapping unto explosive devourers that makes no distinction between friend and foe.

News blew in Nikolaus's ears from whipped underlings that RIOTE apparently just waltzed into Central like a bunch of fuckers rolling a red carpet for themselves, but Nikolaus had anticipated this. He anticipated it all, it was so obvious, so he had time to prepare, only for Likt to ruin it all. It was clear that he had to settle it with that pig-fucker soon for this stupid decision of his, relieve him of his command PERMANENTLY, and override any of his idiot orders. He already had access to a radio, and he couldn't help but smile, all the chess pieces were in place, now all it took was RIOTE to come into Central and... best Stuka does not spoil the surprise. Clamping a heavy stack of folders he dug out underneath his armpit rendered with the words top secret.

He gestured for a subordinate to gather close as he waltzed towards Hans's location after his brief absence, his face contorting into an angelic expression unbefitting an ugly monster inside himself, he whispered a few madness into their ears as they were quiet with shock, but complied with their orders, till... the lights in Central went out and... OH WAIT. Who cares? Central HQ ran on its own power grid, any lights out in Central City did not directly corresponds to Central HQ's very own. It was built to house the leader of Amestris and most of the top brass, and communications in Central was very well important. Not that there was any notice inside, it was all fine and dandy because of precisely the quiet yet tense atmosphere going around, despite the yawn from a long distance of gunfire, mobilization of troops around from RIOTE, as well as their foul hairy ways of trying to come into the city.

Black clad men ran around and started caressing and fondling the HQ's corners, pillars and whatever it was that was needed with the designation x as such as far as Nikolaus's mind coded it. A symbol is as good as it was held, but what use when there wasn't any chance to hold it much? Soon his hand was patted by the trigger-like cylinder of a red nipple on top during his waltz onwards to the Chancellor as he found himself in the presence of a man, pocketing the item patted to his palm, he bursts open the doors of the conference room with his mighty strength, each obstructions snapping aside to make it clear of the General's entrance that despite his appearance, he had the power of a monster. He did not have an aura like a Homunculus, or anything of that sort, but merely was a soul, an elderly that will grow frail with age like the General Stuka will one day. Looks like he just skipped Jay ahead, but he can safely assume she will be here soon with her own contingent of men.

"Catch!" He produced a pistol from his pocket, Glock 17, a reliable pistol produced by Amestris's very womb itself, a fitting weapon for an Amestrian man, hurling it over to Hans, as he looked the Chancellor straight in the eyes with amusement, but more importantly, the bloodlust of a beast whose home was the battlefield, that was Nikolaus Stuka, he did not seem concerned, but rather giddy over the battle just outside, slapping the folders detailing all the intelligence he had about the Homunculus he had gathered himself, as well as an explanation of their existence, that he slid it on the table over to the Chancellor, "Pick that up and look at it on the way out, Chancellor, I have a plan in those folders, one devised for precisely the moment we'd be invaded by Drachmans. Read it, what we're dealing with are not ordinary enemies, they never WERE ordinary enemies, and I figured it was high time the military brass informed you of the top secrets because like it or not, you're going to be in this as much as we are in the thick of the fighting."

He looks outside the door, and gestures once again a military one, rows of men in black uniforms ran through into the conference room and aligned themselves against the wall, taking up a military stand as from a distance through the windows were explosions, none at the Central HQ, but on the buildings, RIOTE was here and there was Hell to pay. "As according to the Leemun Protocol, I am going to evacuate you from Central City. What men we have here are a token few, meant for policing Central rather than defending it, but that isn't a problem. Now let's go, I'll explain more on the way! We don't have time to waste."

Oh the sweet battle is drawing close, he already had an opportunity to radio in some special friends of his, overlooked and ignored all thanks to Likt's incompetence. But he will find Likt and hollow a tunnel in his brain, that Junker fucker won't see the end of the day after what will be done in this war. Turning around, he walked out of the conference room and through the corridor in a fast stride, this was no time to take a stroll but to run. To run and to get out, that being the Chancellor. This battle was not going to be over for Nikolaus... not by a long shot.

((OOC @ Hans: Feel free to RP us leaving out of the Central HQ and head out the direction where there aren't much RIOTE forces, and also if you'd like to inquire more about the documents details, PM me.))

[Jay Furor]

Jay listened to her superior's speech of madness, with an equally glorious grin upon her face. She, as Niko would, was going to enjoy this! About time Central had some action, yeah! "INDEED, NIKO, INDEED! We shall set aflame the scores of Drachman corpses, put them out, and have ten thousand Creig drunkards to urinate on their burning, mangled, corpses! For so sayeth the ways of the Jay!" And at about that time, a woman with wings came up, and Jay looked her over as she spoke. "Well hi there, miss. I'm Colonel Jay Furor, awesomeness extraordinaire! You'll be sticking with me, as it is." She checked her watch. She checked her text messages. She grinned.

"RIGHT-HO! We've not much time, Ms. Angelcakes! This is going to sound crazy, but trust me, you should do as I do." Counting down, she yelled GO! at the final count, and charged through the window in the room, landing on the cannon of Kasatka, driven by the endlessly loyal and faithful assistant Becky. "Ms. Furor, why do you need a tank...?"

"Trust me, Becky! I know what I'm doing, I think. JUMP, SHOKOLAT!" If Jay's calculations were correct, the Gelemortian would land in through the hatch, unless she landed wrong, in which case, jay was there to catch her.

After that bit of shenanigans was over, however, Jay took the wheel from Becky, and steered the large beast of a vehicle to the undesignated rendezvous point, where Niko should have collected Mr. Reinhardt. And right on schedule, the two burst froma day, as Jay popped the tanks hatch and dropped a small ladder. "Goody day Mr. Chancellor, sir! This babe'll get us straight through to South, and I'd love to see those accursed vodka-chugging commies stop the Furor Express!~"

[Hans L. Reinhardt]

Hans continued staring out the window, watching as the sun rose higher. They were coming. He knew that deep in his bones. Central had been safely evacuated. The only citizen remaining was his wife, stubborn woman that she was. There had been a panic room built into their home and she had assured him that she would be down there with a few of his bodyguards. Not that it was good enough. He needed to try and convince her again. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed his wife, who answered after a few rings. “Hallo, Viky.” He smiled faintly. “Brie, you need to evacuate. Our home isn't safe. This isn't an ordinary war with ordinary opponents.” He could almost see his wife in his mind's eye, planting her feet a bit more firmly on the ground and shaking her head. “No. You know the rules. I stay as long as you stay.” Hans opened his mouth to challenge her again when the door to his conference room opened. Nikolaus Stuka strode in, looking pleased as punch.

“Catch!” Hans moved his cellphone away from his ear, catching the pistol that was thrown at him by the barrel. He gave Stuka an icy look, but sighed and tucked his phone against his shoulder and ear. He then checked the gun, double-checked the safety was on and put it at the small of his back, tucked between his shirt and pants. “Give me a moment,” he murmured into the phone as he set the phone on the table to cross his arms as he looked at Stuka. “Yes?”

"Pick that up and look at it on the way out, Chancellor, I have a plan in those folders, one devised for precisely the moment we'd be invaded by Drachmans. Read it, what we're dealing with are not ordinary enemies, they never WERE ordinary enemies, and I figured it was high time the military brass informed you of the top secrets because like it or not, you're going to be in this as much as we are in the thick of the fighting." Hans grabbed at the folder that screamed “TOP SECRET” and opened it. He skimmed a few things, noticing a strange word and a list of battle plans. But for the time being, he would wait to read it. At least he was being informed of things, but he didn't quite enjoy the way it was going about. Deciding he needed a moment, he sat in his chair. He opened the file and began to skim.

"As according to the Leemun Protocol, I am going to evacuate you from Central City. What men we have here are a token few, meant for policing Central rather than defending it, but that isn't a problem. Now let's go, I'll explain more on the way! We don't have time to waste." Hans glanced up as the security men entered the room, but he held up his hand. “We will leave when I say we leave.” He continued to read the documents, deciding the the discussion about “Homunculus” and what they were exactly could wait a moment. He focused instead for a moment that Alena was one of them and he snorted. He knew he disliked her for a reason! But what was more interesting at the moment was the battle plans that Nikolaus Stuka had laid out before him in the folder. He picked up his phone and put it back to his ear. “Brie, I think you will be leaving. Leemun Protocol. I'm going too. I'll be sending someone to get you. The bodyguards will know him. Just stay safe until then. I love you.” He heard Brie sigh and agree and he hung up his phone after he heard her response. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and stood, snapping the folder shut. His face was dark as he looked at the cheery Major General.

“Now then, Stuka. Let us settle a few things. Just because you provided me with this necessary information does not mean I'm giving you any go-ahead with your little battle plan in here. We will not relinquish the city just so you can destroy it again. Lieutenant General Aeries is head of Central HQ and as such, as my explicit orders to handle this. Your explicit orders are thus: Go and fetch my wife. She's at our home and since I'm being evacuated, so does she.” He began walking around the table, and paused next to Nikolaus. He leaned and spoke softly. “Nothing happens to her, understood? And if I see any of this plan of yours come to fruition... any whiff that you disobeyed my orders. You will lose every star you have on your coat and you will no longer be fit to be a part of this military.”

With that, Hans strode out of the room. He heard the other security men fall into step behind him and he suspected Stuka would do the same. Hans wound through Central HQ, finding it almost barren. The troops had been called out, then. He made a point of grabbing a radio, although he did not hear RIOTE cutting onto their systems. He clipped the radio to his belt and exited HQ on the south side of the building, just as steady gunfire began. He saw Spade jump into a jeep and drive off. The battle had truly began. A mammoth of a tank was slightly down the road before him, along with several armored vehicles. He noticed the hatch popped open on the tank and watched a ladder emerge, as well as a head.

"Goody day Mr. Chancellor, sir! This babe'll get us straight through to South, and I'd love to see those accursed vodka-chugging commies stop the Furor Express!~" Hans gave a short salute. “Colonel Furor. I see you will be my escort then.” He waved at the ladder. “Take some of those men with you, if you must. But I'll let you handle clearing the path.” Hans moved back to one of the armored trucks, nodding at the driver inside. He climbed into the back, two men flanking him on either side. He checked to see that his cellphone was in his pocket. He expected Brigitte to call when Stuka arrived. He just prayed that she would be safe. The battle had started and neither of them had an easy journey ahead. Sighing, Hans opened the folder in his lap, pulled out the first document and began to read intently. Time to really see what “secrets” had been lying around.

[Guest]

"Angelika." She couldn't believe the voice she heard through the static of her transceiver. It is the commander of the central himself who was talking to her. The shield maiden despite being without a shield never knew that an enlisted like her was remembered, how did Spade knew about her? Perhaps, he knew of her work at the warehouse where the ivory haired woman messed up big time Damn she whispered to herself but Spade continued nonetheless "help Csilla with organizing a perimeter. It's only a matter of time. Get that set up."

Acknowledged..

It was truly a deliverance, rather than holding out the position against a war mongering homunculus which was not in her favorite list of things to do. Granted, Angelika was sure that she would be able to kill the thing multiple times but how can someone kill immortals, there existence defied all reason, add to that. Why she would fight against the creations of father. So, it was better that way, to herself she guessed.

Not long after another feminine voice cracked through that gadget of both transmission and reception. It was the Major's voice giving specific commands regarding securing a the southern route leading to the south.

Orders received, Major. Moving out! Angie looked to other Amestrian enlisted We are getting the hell out of here, gentlemen. and man, you would never know how happy they looked hearing this news. Four armored personnel carriers went running leaving behind the front lines.

This is Enlisted, Angelika Arnwald..by the orders of Major Angelis, I am to secure southern passage. Prepare an escort immediately for the chancellor's convoy, I want two motorbikes to scout ahead the way. Two armored jeeps, one to lead and the other to trail the chancellors armored vehicle ready for soon departure.

That is said through highly encrypted channels that she really doubted that the drachman would be able to decipher, through militarized gadgets her crimson bloody eyes read a luminescent satellite map of all the routes possible. As an old agent of father, when she had to hunt rogue alchemists, she always planned carefully to attain successful mission completion, thus that made her some sort of a tactician and strategist and urban warfare was her specialty thanks to central's nature.

APC 2 relocate to positions Foxtrot, Lima, echo, alpha. Secure the roofs of buildings with snipers and keep any drachman soldiers from coming close. APC 3 and APC 4 get to yankee, zulu, mike, sierra and Tango, bravo, india, romeo. sweep those area and ensure no one would get through the southern route, God speed. She sent them orders to their navigational systems, showing them where to go.

Angelika heard hailing of acknowledgment, if Spade went east that meant he was going to buy them some time. Anglika chose the longest route since it would be the most disregarded by the RIOTE , she led the convoy through the west then downwards to the south, they would expect them to choose the shortest path, the passage Angelika choose was the farthest from the battlefield and this would ensure the chancellor's safety, granted they would be out of there before RIOTE forces would arrive from Creta.

The chancellor already took his ride by the time Angelika arrived. She and her soldiers left APC behind and opted to drive the two armored jeeps and motor bikes. Angelika took one of the motorbike to scout ahead against any dangers that would as an obstacle to the convoy with another soldier. The disguised agent would have suggested that colonel furor would protect the rear since tanks were not as fast armored vehicles but orders were orders. Perhaps, this tank was modified to run really, really fast.

[Guest]

Ah the Chancellor, someone of political machinations without a lick of actually an idea of how to run a military. Instead, doing things out of politics than military capacity to actually win a war, but whichever the case Nikolaus had quite a thick skin as to ignore what he says because in the end, the orders he listens from comes from a title and the popularity of being elected by the teeming masses. He certainly didn't vote for Hans, and certainly knows that this man is quite old and frail, easy to slay even had he wanted to. Not inclining to listen to anymore of his orders given he already got the orders he wanted to hear, Nikolaus waves to the Chancellor as he was speaking when he leaned to him and tried to actually be adorable by threatening him or at least he can tell the gesture, by quieting the voice and trying to seem nonchalant about it. He had to hold back his snickers out of the hilarity that comes from such a cute attempt in trying to scare the general into following the orders of someone... tactically inept. HAH! He laughs at such a display and farce as the wording goes...

"Nothing happens to her, understood? And if I see any of this plan of yours come to fruition... any whiff that you dis--" He knew where this was going, the barking of a senile man and his poisonous slander to accuse Nikolaus of such harsh thoughts he best not be distracted by in this battle, he had come across these threats before, most are like a pencil without lead -- pointless. He had to think militarily and stop this any further before he would be infected by political thinking.

"Listen you jive turkey." He interjected harshly, turned around and walked towards the door, turning his back on Hans, smiling, as he waved behind his back to the Chancellor, strolling towards Jay, he made a few gestures behind him for the military personnel to accompany Hans and not to be on Nikolaus as he ignored anything that came from Reinhardt's drivel, "I am more experienced and more militant than your whole damn cabinet of politicians put together. I have a war to win that is going on OUTSIDE just so you can hide in South City with your wife, bang her, snort some drugs and get hammered out of your mind. While you're chanting in rallies and brow beating politicians, I am out there cleaning up the cheap ass trash that gets in my way. So tell you what, when your so called counter-offensive starts against RIOTE, you call me and I'll be right down front showing you how it's done. But until then, SHUT YOUR MOUTH when talking to grown folks, I'mma outta here."

Whipped up attitude at its finest. Not that he cared of the aftermath. Well... that's one HELL of a speech he brewed up, he'd probably get fired, but who cares? There is no more confidence in this government when this is the treatment he gets for proposing something neutrally, for him to make a habit of talking down on experienced military officers is quite adorable really.

He took a wide stroll, now he has an excuse! A blank check of not listening to any further instructions from Hans, obviously there was no further important information to listen to that he would need because it gets as simple as it goes. Now to work on framing General Likt due to his incompetence, get the harridan, kick some ass, take names, and then there was this one bank he had his eyes on for a while. But for some reason, he had an ominous feeling inside his heart that Spade might really taste shit in this battle with bad luck, at least their orders are distinct and separate from each other despite the fact he had a mind to take him along... BUT, he had an errand to do and he had become nothing more than an overglorified messenger. Suits him just fine.

He passed by Jay, made a 'he is an air-head' gesture inclining to the man behind him quite covertly and went ahead without sticking to the norms of actually being around the Chancellor's insufferable presence any longer. GOOD GRIEF, losing so many more lives just because he wouldn't want to lose a city, henceforth losing more manual power... whichever the case, Amestris will experience quite the diaspora as Nikolaus would predict, "Enjoy the Chancellor Colonel Furor, I certainly have~"

Now that he had the last laugh with NO possible way to listen to him, he had to make a run past the men teeming to defend the Central HQ, find a way to get out RELIABLY. Drawing out his saber with one hand, he inclined his vision on it in minute glances and unto his forward path of a corridor, as his optics read the 360 degrees of his entire character or with a large laps that tends to shift now and then in visual absences. He began sprinting onward, flinging aside any leaving men in his path as he had a simple mission to do. FETCH SOMEONE'S WIFE, also a dead man's mom.

With his politically correct thoughts out of the way, there was NO WAY Nikolaus could get there in time to the mansion if he was held up by the fighting in the street levels. There will obviously be aerial assaults, bombardments, tanks, that kind of heavy firepower if the Drachmans were smart, not that he was counting on their intelligence given the stupidity they have shown in the past. Analyzing all of that in mind, Nikolaus decided to head downstairs, and out of the front door as he had an idea... smiling most maliciously. He was in the grass grounds seeing how the place was being barricaded, with whatever entry ways into the Central HQ were being closed down. There was a HUMVEE around, and he needed the maneuverability that comes from a lighter vehicle than a tank, yet armored enough to withstand the gunshots quite well at least.

He points to the driver as he approaches the HUMVEE, "YOU THERE! Private! Start the car, we're going to the Reinhardt mansion!"

"B-but sir... this HUMVEE is for General Likt..." The private stutters, he recognized Nikolaus's awesome superiority over him, and saluted.

"General Likt decided to take a different way out, he has made a change of plans, now start the car you limp dick dipshit, or I swear I will DISCIPLINE THE SHIT OUT OF YOU, MAGGOT." He barked back at the private, Nikolaus straightened him out with his tone as the car ignited, the engines roared, he stepped inside to the back seat, sheathing his saber, as he kept his cool. He looked around every now and then, they needed to drive fast, and in the heat of battle, it is almost astronomical to have a pre-mediated position zeroed in, if not outright ridiculous for his positioning would be relatively unknown. But he wouldn't put it past himself that the Chancellor's wife would actually be sought out as a hostage by the Drachmans themselves.

The HUMVEE sped out of the Central HQ's grounds, distinctly apart from the destroyed building complex, the wheels rotated and mowed the car forth just in time to get away from the smoke that exhaled out of the building's infrastructure and provided an opportune cover. Skillfully dodging whatever came on the way as speed was the only real security, the HUMVEE made sure to actually steer clear of Drachmans, going so far as to actually burst through some shops with wooden frames and windows, and crashing out at the other side. Good thing Central was FILLED with plenty of those given the advent of it being a modern city with the designs foregoing the bricks, sans the more traditional buildings. The HUMVEE driver was bold and insane, well mostly because he had a gun trained on the back of his head, a shotgun, and Nikolaus wasn't intending to take any chances of his loyalty being shirked to him after all.

It would be that they were going distinct and apart the Chancellor's trajectory in this Drachman infested city, gun fights took place all around but who cares right now? Tactically, those men were just slowing the Drachmans down and were chow for food, there is no more to mourn about them than the fact they knew what they signed up for. Buying time, for the Chancellor, big whoop. A politician, those were never the good types of leaders to have, he recalls the good old days of having a Fuhrer, a Fuhrer who was ambitious and more importantly was in fact in the military. Someone who has gained their ranks conventionally and through the line of duty, and not through a charisma contest. Truly, this nation has sunken into deeper depths of depravity.

The path was clear though, there was a large opening and the General found himself quite pre-occupied with picking things up from the confines of his seat, under and sideways whilst the driver skillfully drove on an empty canal curved much to their convenience, perpendicular as to be driven upward or downward with ease, especially with the amount of horsepower being juiced into the HUMVEE. It was the emptiest part lacking an enemy presence, as the buildings, skyscrapers and all spanned away in design, Central might've been rebuilt recently, but once again it'd be destroyed. The civilians definitely would be none too pleased about the affairs taking place. This was the right course towards the Chancellor's Mansion, it was known, the atmosphere had the ambiance of war, and it waned even bleaker and bleaker for they have been getting out of the city's inner circle to stretch into the outwards. This drive was aided by a lack of cars and the fact there lacked a speeding. The private driving the HUMVEE kept himself peeled of things, as a foreboding feeling bit him. They weren't heading towards any main roads at the moment, the shortcuts they can take is in fact underneath the drained out water canals, but the planned out route was through the shops and alley ways, skipping the high ways entirely, they couldn't afford being seen and being slowed down by ONE MILLISECOND. It'd take a while for an invasion to actually have premediated ambush positions when the war was actually starting this recently in Amestris itself, but certainly the outer rings will have deeper concentration, although it seems the enemy movements by prediction are advancing and enrouching further into the city rather than to stay around. Their goal was the prize, the one man and the one symbol of Amestris -- the Chancellor and Central HQ. Oho, how retarded they were and still are.

"It looks like Hell..." the private mutters, he was leased of the fact the gun no longer aimed at the back of his skull anymore. The General didn't pay much attention to his inferior whom will never see tomorrow, just be another statistic in this war that took the humanity out of affairs. Boy must Drachma must be PISSED, and more importantly, Nikolaus was even MORE PISSED.

[Elastor Ito]

"Whoa..." An exclamation of surprise from above. Ela flung himself around, eyes moving from the retreating wave in front towards a figure tumbling down a dune. His eyebrow raised involuntarily and he sat up straighter, fingers brushing softly against the unopened box beside him. Weaponless, he watched a trail be wrecked through the sand like a child knowing not the significance of a wave breaker. For just a moment, he paused, silhouette taking on the recognition of Zen Howler: the fool. It was no surprise that it would be him surfing the small sand avalanche down to cover his feet, yet at the same time, he found he could not harness a normal reaction. His own stupor was astounding, cloaking him in a haze of mindless conception. However, despite his blank outward reaction, the Royal Guard was actually plotting his revenge. Should Zen ever fall asleep atop any form of sand in the future, he would awaken to being entirely buried in it...save for his nose. Of course, he wouldn't partake in the activity himself; he would sic his wild nephews equip with colorful plastic shovels on him. It was decided then.

Ela shook out his boots with a tragic look. It was impossible now--entirely impossible to remove all the sand from him. Months--no, years later he'd still find traces of it somewhere. There was no escape. "Ya' look like hammered shit, Ela," a breath of smoke blew in his face. Said rehead turned his head and coughed, waving a hand to disperse it. The cigarette was met with a fervent glare. He hated smoking. He hated smokers. He hated when smoke came anywhere near him: the vile, putrid, cancer-inducing scent that harmed secondhandedly more so than the ignorant inhaler themselves. Its very existence...should be erased. A hiss escaped him, wishing--just wishing his sword was out of that box because Howler's head would roll. He suddenly laughed bitterly, raising his blue eyes to assess the idiot's condition. He looked like he needed a shower, but other than that he seemed like he was better off. Ela preferred it that way--if others were better off than himself. Seeing people suffer...he wasn't one to watch.

"Hn." Silence passed gentle hands through their hair, the air laced with sea and smoke. He couldn't stop staring at the sky lit through layered clouds and shattered liaison. Barely noticing the blood at the corner of his lips from his previous cough, he licked the chapped away. "Someone's coming." It was that girl, Deity.

"My phone isn't working, so other than the radio call, it looks all that will help, is here." Ela followed her eyes to the side, registering each faraway dot with a pencil, connecting them soundlessly into a shape worthy of bringing Lord Dietrich home. He stood up, fishing his phone out of his pocket and lingering on the NO SIGNAL indication in the corner of the screen. Obnoxiously, it demanded deference from his wishes. He flipped it closed and dropped it uselessly into the pocket of his pants. It was beginning to get hot, the morning sun turning harsher as the minutes ticked by. There was no longer any time to waste. If preparations were made and this was all they had, they would go. He stooped to lift his box off the ground, using it as a leaning post when he looked her in the eyes with fortitude.

"Let's go." He shot the moldy-headed man a look and turned towards the direction of the helicopter, but stopped. Approaching was another woman who had shown up to the ballroom; it was the one he had nearly turned on when she burst in. He didn't know her name. She touched Zen's shoulder, leaning towards his ear to say something that didn't concern Ela in the slightest. He didn't bother trying to hear, setting about tearing open the box that held his new sword. He ran his hands along it, eyes so sharp they nearly matched the blade within. When the short-haired woman left, he looked at Zen again to gauge his reaction to the words he did not hear. Silently, he began walking, indicating in the slightest way that they should follow too.

"BORED BORED BORED BORED BORED!" ANNOYING. Auburn hair flew haphazardly into his face, his foot suspended in the air, step half-taken.

"..."

""I am done with this fucking waiting around! All we ever seem to do is wait! Why aren't we killing shit?!"

A dark look flashed over his eyes. "Will you do it; will you give the order?" He growled, turning away and heading around the large man. As he walked, he continued. "Our objectives are not to 'kill shit.' They are to retrieve Dietrich. Without him, we cannot receive orders." Cold, calculated, not a shred of emotion leaked into his words. He continued his pace, soon reaching the array of tents where a man stood broadly in the center.

"Oh and if you need a new king after this...I am quite willing to step up to the role." Plain conceited arrogance wafted off each word, casting Ela further into a foul mood. Ignoring the commotion, he branched toward the newly stocked helicopter. Aboard, he yanked the speaker of his radio to his mouth after consulting with the pilot.

"Commencing rescue mission in 10 minutes..." He'd do it alone if necessary, but there were at least two he was sure would join him.

Once they took off, it took some time to reach their destination, landing in an obscure baseball field in the heart of the city. Faint gunfire was heard arcing in the distance, growing closer yet tapering away at the same time. Where would Dietrich be--where could they start? He hovered at the edge of the grass alone, looking onward into the distance. He turned his head to see the broccoli head approach with a cocky grin plastered on his face like this was some sort of sport. "This isn't a carnival," he remarked with a sour look. "Can you keep up?" It was a challenge, one met with a cocky smirk of his own, sword poised at his side, feet moving in sync with the other as Zen Howler and Elastor Ito broke off from the group on their own straight down the apartment block alongside Central Head Quarters.

[POSTING ORDER: Hans > Central (I suggest giving an entire time lapse of the waiting period like I did) > Cretan Militants (only those coming to save Dietrich) > Vanity > Aurel > RIOTE (Start the attack) > Central Starts and then Free for all of RIOTE, Central, and Cretan Militants > Aurel > Dietrich > Xan > RIOTE (Start the civil war) > Xingese Militants, Aerugese Militants, Esparian Dudes, Gelemortian Militants, Fort Briggs, and Central free for all
^If it doesn't say free for all, you only post ONCE.
Remember to title your posts!!]

[Guest]

The crackling of opposing gunfire and the squelch of ripped flesh broke the silence. Atop the apartment building he'd chosen as a podium for himself, Balthazar beat his chest like a drum and howled down to the ant-sized men below, screams lowering morale. From here, he was a god. A king, an overlord, organising his troops as he saw fit, only directly intervening when it became an absolute necessity. "KEEP PUSHING ON. THE AMESTRIANS ARE WEAK."

Snarling, the arrival of another Jeep heralding a long-haired, frustrated-looking man with shades and a rifle, gesturing to crowds of his comrades and firing off the odd few bursts of rounds every now and then. From the look of how he was playing the battlefield... this man was clearly important. Balthazar's basic guerilla tactics kicked in. Go for the leader. Take out morale. He beat his chest once more as cannon fire lit up the horizon and a howitzer round smashed into the foundations beneath him. Slowly, like an oncoming wave of rubble, shredded mortar, faint brickwork, plaster and wood, the apartment collapsed down and outwards, taking the chimera with it.

Silence save for the echo of the one-oh-five millimetre shell's explosion as they loaded one in afresh. RIOTE troops stopped firing for but a moment and looked over to the rubble that had once been an entire row of apartment blocks. Had... had their leader been felled so easily? Was Balthazar simply all talk?

Black orbs struck open within the godless grey pit of rubble. Faint sunlight glinted from them. Clouds of grime and dust cleared and settled, the continual gunfire ambience and an underlying background track to it all. Black, clawed, grotesquely muscled hands wrenched a support beam free of his chest, and the emergent chimera took in deep lungfuls of air before exhaling them once more in the greatest guttural roar of the day so far. "AMESTRIAN SWINE! YOU WON'T TAKE ME THAT FUCKING EASILY!"

The lenses of the leader's sunglasses glinted in the heated summer sunlight. It was a good day. A nice day. Some would chance it to sit outside on their patios and eagerly sip at iced drinks as they watched the clouds moved and discussed lesser things beneath them, perhaps a war like this in passing, with moments of silence for those fallen, before brushing onto the next bullshit item on their list. For the creature that had once been known as Balthazar... it was a nice day, too. A nice day to kill them all.

The roar's echoes began to fade. A cluster of a half-dozen Amestrian soldiers slowly swept inwards. Haggard breathing came from within; light danced off of shed blood where the rubble and shrapnel from the apartments' collapse had found a weak spot between the chimera's ever-shifting organic armour. Panic struck the Amestrian privates, and clutching their rifles with clammy fingers, they unloaded round after round into the darkness, hoping, pleading, praying that they'd hit something.

They did. Only trouble was, it hit back.

Rifle bullets bounced from the plates of his chest as Balthazar charged on the patrol, sweeping forwards and grasping the first man closest to him. Like a human bowling ball, he clutched the man by the throat, and as the rest simply froze, emptying their clips into him further, the sickening crunch of bone echoed through as the clawed vicegrip tightened around the man's throat and the chimera crushed his spine. Their first mistake was thinking they could fell him with simple tools of war like that.

Cycling his shoulder around, Balthazar swung the man underarm, and tossed the mangled, limp remains of another nameless casualty of today's war into the rest of his patrol, sending three that he hit reeling whilst the other two fumbled for fresh clips. "STRIKE." The Drachman snarled, a macabre, guttural laugh hanging under his gasping breaths.

Baring dirty, yellowed fangs and putting on the sick imitation of a grin he couldn't muster in this form as the shape of his canines and the size of it all split along his lips and drew shallow, crimson rivulets, blood trickling down his jaw, and the blackened mimicry of a face this form possessed. They dropped their rifles onto the slings and simply turned, and ran. Fuck country. Fuck obligation. Fuck everything. When a sub-human ghost of something once a man charges at you, there's not much you can do but run for your life.

Unfortunately for them, Balthazar was faster. He bounded straight down onto all fours, and when close enough, dove at them with a sweeping tackle, drawing shallow gashes along their outer sides with his claws and pulling them under. Straight away he dove upon his latest catch, diving on the first writhing private with fangs bared, slashing away his helmet and carving through the tender tissue of his neck, before diving in fully to tear through everything he could. Eager fangs sunk deep through the flesh of the jugular, and warm blood flowed into the chimera's mouth. For a moment, he almost seemed if he was suffering; then the man's body went limp.

Raising his head once more, gulping down the last of his little bite to drink, and sighing with relief, his entire face and upper torso now spattered with the blood, he pushed the lifeless soldier's remains away, and extended a single claw to slit the second warrior's throat. Slowly. Watching, black orbs staring into hazel, sinking in, and feeding off of a different type of sustenance as the blood slowly trickled down and pooled blow the man. The look of fear in a man's eyes as he slowly gave up to death, feeling the hot breath of a true predator above him.

It wasn't long before his second catch was still, too. No fun, these Amestrian simpletons. Died too quickly. Not like the hardy Drachmans. They had more fight. Even the civilians. Scratching the pale yellow spines down his back, he caught sight of the leader once more. Hm. Maybe he had some fight in him. Balthazar at least hoped so. "YOU." Backing down onto all fours like a lumbering gorilla, fists pressing into the ground, teeth bared and sticky globules of blood trailing down from his open jaw, Balthazar snarled at Spade with a stretched grin of open malice on his face, wildfire sparkling in his eyes. "YOU WILL DIE NEXT."

With that, spraying dirt up behind him like a rhinoceros on the charge, coursing along like a shark with the stench of blood fresh in its tongue, and like a gorilla ready to tackle the lesser specimen, Balthazar ran at Spade. And he ran, with all his might, claws and fangs bared, ready to tear the Lieutenant General apart. Had he not egotistically snarled at the man beforehand and alerted him, he might have succeeded.

[Guest]

"Will you do it; will you give the order?" Pancake could only roll his eyes. The obedience talk. He had heard it before, and now it was so much white noise, a song he could recite by heart. Here came the bit about how our objectives aren't to 'kill shit.' "Our objectives are not to 'kill shit.' They are to retrieve Dietrich. Without him, we cannot receive orders." Pancake handwaved this, bored by the little swordsman who walked by him. He had half a mind to just extend an arm and smack him, just to show him who he was speaking to.

"You don't know me at all, do you?" Pancake said, extending his arms with audiable cracks enamating from each one. His eyes drifted onto the other soldiers who would be joining him. He recognised three of them immediately, and besides maybe Morgana, he knew that he was going to be pulling the weight if his previous interactions proved anything about them. There was the man from the party who had backed away the moment a fight was mentioned, some guy he'd never seen before in a foppish top hat, and of course it wouldn't be Creta if Pancake didn't end up bumping into Deity, a hateful glare locking straight onto her. "What's up, bitch tits? I didn't know the army's outreach programme hired flatfoots." He greeted her, a tone in his voice that was less teasing and more like a sledgehammer of irritation. Before he could hear an answer, a hammering 'chud chud chud' blasted through the air, silencing everything. The transport to the next fight. The helicopter. Pancake groaned slightly.

"Finally!" He shouted, shoving past people to get to the vehicle. "Let's crack some fucking heads!"

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

However, Pancake ran into an immediate problem.

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Why aren't we there yet?"

It was like this for the entire journey.

However, for a brief moment he idly looked out of the window, seeing that they were coming in to land, the helicopter descending with suspicious ease. A cloying sense of uneasy recognition passeed through his bones, until he put two and two together. The endless city, some familiar streets. As they hit the baseball field, Pancake cracked his knuckles, already annoyed.

"Wait, Central? This dump?" Pancake asked. He knew this place only by one title; the place that immediately rejected him. He couldn't even start fighting. His eyes rolled in frustration. He could hear gunfire some miles in the distance and he sympathised with whoever was trying to bring the city down. It sounded like fun. His eyes danced from end to end of the long grass square, the swordsman and the detective rushing in the general direction of Central Headquarters. Pancake stood still, unsure of what to do now. If Elastor had said something correct, it was that Pancake couldn't give the order, if only because he wasn't a leader in the slightest. He was a follower or, in his own eyes, a force; something to be aimed and shoved one way or another. Being a follower, he decide to simply watch from above. He ran to the nearest building, a tall block of flats, his tentacles easily clambering up the walls, and perched himself on the edge as he watched the floor like a vulture from above, waiting for any outbreak of violence to join, his fingers tensed, his eyes sharp, his body begging to fight, his sharp tendrils hungry for blood.

[Guest]

Zen ignored the brutal deathglare for his smoking. He'd grown more than used to it in the short amount of time he'd known Elastor. "Someone's coming." Cocking his head and scratching the back of his neck, he quickly noted the auburn-haired guard's understatement. Someone? No. The entire fucking Cretan army were coming.

"I am done with this fucking waiting around! All we ever seem to do is wait! Why aren't we killing shit?!" Finishing the last of his cigarette and stabbing it out on the ground, Zen begin to growl. Zen Rule One was never to ruin a broment. And that was exactly what he was trying to get. Elastor gave a quick rebuttal and then came the reply. "You don't know me at all, do you?"

"Listen, buddy," Zen snarled as best he could. It was somewhat pathetic, but the words themselves held enough substance. "If you break rank a' disobey direct ordahs, I swear ta' God, I will start so many fukken' internal investigations inta' ya' that I'll make ya' damn head spin. So rein it in, Docta' Octopus." The Spiderman reference was a plus. Spiderman references were always a plus.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. He knew that grip too well, and smiled gently as the words reached his ears. "Come on, le's ge' ready. Wanna be in tip top shape when we go save 'is 'ighness." Nodding, Zen looked to Ela. He did have some equipment to pick up, and all... if he was going to do this properly, he was going to do it Zen properly. Which, of course, meant shotguns.

"A'right, I'm off, ladies and gents," Scratching the back of his head, he looked to Ela and sighed. "Try not ta' kill ya'self before we get on the damn helo', a'right?" Shaking his head and managing to muster a low chuckle, he turned off with Rebecca to fetch the remainder of his equipment, then slowly made his way to the chopper, hearing Elastor manage to bitterly sputter out a last sentence, as was tight-ass protocol.

"Our objectives are not to 'kill shit.' They are to retrieve Dietrich. Without him, we cannot receive orders." Shaking his head and smiling, Zen quickly ascended the sandy banks of the beachfront and disappeared up into the camp.

*****

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Why aren't we there yet?" Even Zen, the master of all things irritation, could only handle so much annoyance. This guy was like a seven-year-old with ADHD on a deadly cocktail of sugar, caffeine, and cocaine. Actual Internal Affairs logic kicked in. Did... they really want this guy holding a gun? Or, tentacles. Whichever he preferred.

"If ya' don't shut up, I'll push ya' outta the choppa', and ya' can see for yourself," Zen murmured, making an action halfway between grinding and massaging his temples. The helicopter's wheels finally hit the ground with a series of dull thunk noises, and the slow whirling of the rotor blades above grinding to a halt.

A cocky grin upon his face as usual, Zen had disposed of his usual attire and switched to something a touch more pragmatic. Calamity was holstered at his hip, and over an off-yellow workshirt sat a thick Kevlar bullet-resistant black vest. Cradled in his arms was the shotgun, so eagerly named for one of his teammates. A few bulges in his pockets signalled a pack of cards and one and a mixed bag of mahjong tiles and dice in the other, if he ever ran out of bullets - a satchel of fresh clips and shells slung by his side. Finally, the man's hands were covered with full, bulky black gloves, weighted with metal orbs over each of the knuckles. He hopped off the helicopter smiling. "This isn't a carnival. Can you keep up?"

"I woulda' thought that's a perfect question to be askin' you. Must be kinda' hard to move with a stick that big up ya' ass." A grin, and the pair of them dove off into the alleyways alone.

((FYI, for anyone else - and Rob later if he doesn't get my message - Zen and Elastor are meant to go off ALONE))

[Guest]

Deity awaited his words. After watching him fish out his phone and look at it with something of an annoyed look, she assumed she wasn't the only one with a broken phone. It seemed something had happened that made all of the useless, wonderful. Well, at least no one would be texting during this important mission. Deity found herself in a daze. Nothing was really solid. Just a mess of random things happening. Some guy went sky diving without a parachute. Whatever, Deity didn't really care. She was in a set mind and once Elastor gave his annoyed look, she decided she should leave. Well she would have. As soon as she picked up her foot to move, she found this voice nagging in the back of her head. Of course who else would it be, than the one person in the world she wanted to kick off a cliff. Why the hell did he even want to come?

-Then again, why did she even have to ask? "What's up, bitch tits? I didn't know the army's outreach programme hired flatfoots."

....Resist... RESIST. She simply longed to turn and club the guy in the mouth. That wouldn't be very lady-like though. In fact she took the high route and acted as if she didn't notice him. Her body brushed past his, yet she whispered under her breath. "Don't get in the way." She spoke in her normal tone with Pancake. Her eyes didn't turn towards him, she simply kept walking. The others were about, doing their own things. She had nothing more to do, so she simply found herself headed to the helicopter. However long it would take the others to get ready, didn't matter to her. She was as prepared as she could be. It wasn't like she was supposed to really be fighting. Her parents were likely flinging law suits around and swearing they'd sue everyone from the the general military to an occasional fast food chain. It would be a mess to go home to. Oh well, at least she wasn't there to witness it. She was too old for this kind of obsession anyways.

It was only then, she realized she'd ignored some rich-looking guy who'd been talking to them. Oops. She hadn't caught a word of it. Oh well, it wasn't like she was paying much attention to anyone at the time. If the man was going to be some sort of dumbass and think talking to busy people was going to work, clearly he was retarded. At this time, Deity had no patience to deal with them.

The helicopter revved with the obnoxious noise and people crawled upon it. Single groups of one, marching like ants to save the king who might be dead. What if they had killed him? What if he was dead and it was all her fault? The feelings of dread and worry washed over her. This was pointless.. they all might as well sign their death certificates while they were at it. Her eyes dipped. If they DID fail-... she had a plan for that. Her eyes dipped again and she leaned against the window. It always was there. That haunting feeling of being alone in a room full of people. It wasn't like she was worth knowing anyways. She preferred to be alone, that way, no one could hurt her further. Her eyes closed and she stared through narrowed slits at the passing areas of land. The sound of the blades was deafening and in her daydream, not even Pancake's obnoxious voice could reach her. She was in a hazy world where nothing was truly able to be touched.

How was it she was the only one unharmed? How useless was she that she could be in the middle of a room and not get hit once? Her eyes closed and she sighed. Was she that invisible that not even the enemy knew she existed? Or was she that puny and weak, she wasn't worth the bother of anything? How was it that she was the one who wanted to die and yet came out unscathed? Now, wasn't the time to figure that out. As she turned her head briskly, she felt something brush her hand. No one sat beside her, so what was that? A ghost? Ghosts didn't exist? Then again, neither did demons.. but somehow that proved unreliable facts. They had been shot and got back up... she needed to research on this. It would bug her now until she knew.

The helicopter landed and people rushed off with plans of their own. Elastor, the man she'd saved, and her boss headed off in a hurry. Clearly they had a plan. Deity had not been debriefed. So she stood there awkwardly for a minute, wondering where to even start looking. She hadn't been in central since visiting her cousin in attempts to find her sister. It was a failed attempt and all she got out of it, was fighting with her cousin. He hated her, because the twins often fight and Deity was always the bitch. It never ended well. Now wasn't the time for that.

With everyone running headfirst into the battle, she decided someone would have to stay behind and secure their escape route. This meant she was playing the defense. How fun. First she let their king get kidnapped and now she stood there watching the helicopter to make sure it wasn't hijacked. She'd crawl up to the cockpit and speak to the pilot. A brief conversation had and she slid back to the outside world where she looked around. Her hand fished in her purse and pulled out a pistol. It wasn't a lot, but it was what she had to help keep the getaway clear. Her feet dangled from the copter's ledge while she sat in the doorway until she was called to do something else.

[Guest]

Alena was at the window, staring off in the distances when a moan escapes the King's lips. She turns to look over at him; smiling slightly from his presences. It felt nice to have someone else around during the time of war; even if it was the enemy passed out in her bed. He didn't look in that bad of shape, and the sleep was helping his body recover from the battle that happen hours earlier. The homunculus heads over to her bathroom; flipping on the switch to reveal floor to ceiling mirrors everywhere. The ceiling was made up of windows, perfect for her eyes to watch the rain fall. A light sigh escapes her lips as she turns to her reflection. She only spent 20 minutes in the bathroom cleaning herself up, fixing her hair, applying the standard amount of lip stick, and changing outfits. Her dress was a silver form fitting floor length, with flower rhine stone, and lace that line her body with elegances. (Picture below)

"Oh Dietrich..." She grins to herself as she approaches his sleeping body. It wouldn't be long until someone came after the King. After all, what kind of servant wouldn't save their grand leader? Chances were a couple of men would come, and that was enough of a reason for her to look her absolute best. Alena reaches down and finds his pant pocket, pulling out his cell phone. With the flick of her thumb, she scrolls through his contact list and lands on a familiar person from the battle. "Elastor Ito." She says aloud before remember his little stint that happen back in the White House. "Well, well, well, this should be fun." She taps the call button. The ringing went on for a only a few seconds before the phone answers with haste. "I know you're listening." She says confidently, even tho the man hadn't said a word yet. By now he would be having the phone traced to her location. "If you want this King of yours, you'll have to play by my rules. If you don't, or if I get the feeling you aren't; I'll slit his throat. Rule one is that you must come alone, but I will allow one other male to tag along with you. Let's be real, threesomes are much more fun. Rule number two is that you both must dress in a tux. There is a suit shop about a block away from my apartment. Lastly, prepare yourself for death, love." She hangs up before allowing the man to even reply. This was her game and he had to play by her rules. With that, she snaps the phone in half before tossing it out the window.

Let the fun begin.

The Dress

[Elastor Ito]

"I woulda' thought that's a perfect question to be askin' you. Must be kinda' hard to move with a stick that big up ya' ass."

Ela frowned. "Shut up." It was one of his less intelligent replies on the scale of Zen-related comebacks, but it indicated that he was in no mood to play around. Still, he felt a strangled laugh escape his throat, transforming into a ragged cough that more than likely veiled his amusement. A hand flew to his lips and drew away speckles of blood behind his back, pupils shrinking in pain for just a moment before returning to their normal status. He brushed his quivering hand along a towel in his pocket he used to clean his sword and stared hard at Zen. They didn't have a plan; there was no debriefing. In all actuality, they were just walking down the street with weapons. They had just invaded a foreign country, denoting them to the same level as RIOTE. Still, they were lending assistance, holding the same goals as the Amestrians. Dietrich was not dead; they hadn't killed him for an express purpose. There were underlying objectives they were unaware of--so many questions unanswered, and without orders given, they were acting entirely on their own: to save Lord Dietrich so that he might tell them what to do. Like pawns scurrying around in the dark, they would not sit still and wait for death. The time to act was now, but they had only ascended to being pawns scurrying around in the dark with flashlights.

Below them, the sidewalk was already cracked from the rumbles of war. If one were to look up, they would see black clouds of smoke, sending countless lives above the fallen. Ahead of them were empty streets, doors left ajar, televisions still on in the rooms reporting, reporting, reporting always the damage humans did to themselves. A bitter smile. It was as if they were put on this earth simply to destroy themselves--knowingly destroy themselves. What was winning in that sense? What they were doing now was simply trying to save one person...one person. How many had to die for that? He led a country, yes, but he was still just a person. That was what made him so great, that was why Elastor found himself standing at his side. There was reason to protect him...there was reason to rescue him from the claws of RIOTE's hate. How many more lives had to be ruined? Hypocrites. It didn't make any sense. Why destroy? Why create travesty only to build upon the bones?

His pocket buzzed vivaciously, halting him in their pursuit towards nowhere. He pulled out a new flip phone he had obtained from Mark Robinson before boarding the helicopter. The man said he would need it, but Ela hadn't been so sure until this moment. The caller ID was telling him it was Dietrich, but in his mind he knew better. He hit speakerphone. It was the enemy, but what would they want with him?? Slowly, he raised the cheap contraption to his ear, saying nothing, just listening intently and knowing Zen could also hear full-well what was about to be said. "I know you're listening." Vanity. He made eye contact with Howler, nodding ever so slightly to indicate that all of their suspicions were indeed correct. "If you want this King of yours, you'll have to play by my rules. If you don't, or if I get the feeling you aren't; I'll slit his throat." Why would she even give them the opportunity to re-obtain Dietrich? It was a trap as obvious as one gets. He glared into the distance ahead. "Rule one is that you must come alone, but I will allow one other male to tag along with you." Wasn't that then not coming alone? Was that a trick? How did she know he was currently with another person? Elastor spun around, looking in all directions without locating her. "Let's be real, threesomes are much more fun. Rule number two is that you both must dress in a tux." ...What. He nearly dropped the phone in horror. A...tux? What...just what. What was the point of that? What were they going to do, go to a wedding? He blinked and held his breath so as to not give away his horrid shock. "There is a suit shop about a block away from my apartment. Lastly, prepare yourself for death, love." Was she testing their resolve? Clearly the suit shop wouldn't be open. They would have to break in and steal their attire before deducting where her apartment even was. Ela grit his teeth, slammed his phone shut, and shoved it back whence it came.

"Let's go," he hissed.

Ela was going to break the law tonight.

Locating the tuxedo shop was a bit of a hassle considering the redhead had only been to Central a seldom few times. Luckily, about the city were interlaced maps, indicating where certain places were. Of course, there were a bunch of shops akin to that of men's wear, etc., but there was only one that dealt solely with tuxedos, called 'Central Tuxedos'. Creative. It was close by--about five minutes walking, taking the two of them eight minutes because Zen dilly-dallied his ass past 'Trump Galore' with an affectionate: "BUT ELA, THEY HAVE AUTOMATIC CARD SHUFFLERS! CARD SHUFFLERS!" However, such an exclamation was met with an angry: "Are you going to steal that too?!" from the annoyed redhead, already disturbed about having to steal tuxedos and waltz into the enemy's apartment like a gentlemen.

Finding their sizes without the capabilities of hemming them was more than a little tricky. In and out of the dressing rooms they went like cattle being herded to their death. Ela eventually found a pale yellow button down dress shirt that fit decently. He dove for a red stripped tie off the rack and haphazardly tied it around his neck. Leaving his tight bullet proof vest on underneath, he tried on countless suit jackets until a casual black one seemed to work well enough. The pants, however, took eons. He finally found a pair he wasn't swimming in and weren't in need of hemming, but they were just big enough around his hips to slump. He had to steal a belt too!? Under his breath he curses, clasping a simple on off the shelf, tearing off the tags with his teeth, and sliding it into his belt loops. Lucky for Zen he hadn't been in his Cretan uniform, already practically meeting Vanity's obscene requirements.

Saying nothing about how disturbed he was, Ela exited the store, not looking back. He fervently glanced around the area, trying to discern which block her apartment was down, but such a task was not that simple. She clearly wanted to make them work, laughing from afar at their efforts... His grip tightened on his sword, icy blue eyes fierce with resignation. "Which wa--" Wait. Was he really about to ask Zen Howler as question like that--as if he would have any better idea than himself? Surely, the moldy-cotton-candy-headed male would have no inkling of a thought regarding the whereabouts of the vain immortal...

[Guest]

Violet D'Angelo stood on the beach staring at the sun in the distance, watching the waves gently roll into the shore. Just when she thought she'd found people to care about again, someone who understood her, they had been taken away from her again. When RIOTE had hit the White House and launched the toxins, her close friends Jacob and Rochelle were two of the many casualties. Sadness welled up inside the young woman, but no tears came. Instead the sadness was replaced by anger, pure and strong. When word had hit that Lord Dietrich had been captured and taken across the Amestrian border, their destination became obvious: Central City. RIOTE wanted Amestris for themselves, and what better place to start then the capital.

Orders from a Royal Guard had been simple, save the King at all costs. Violet jumped on the opportunity as fast as she could, knowing this would be her chance to strike back at those RIOTE bastards for killing so many people, her friends included. She also felt a sense of duty in it all, to protect Dietrich was the highest honor, and to save him that much more so. It was time to show them what she was made of, and she was ready. "Commencing rescue mission in 10 minutes..." came over the radio from a man named Elastor, a Royal Guard who was in charge of the mission. Dressed in her full battle gear, the Cretan insignia displayed on her left shoulder, she looked like a woman ready for war. Hefting up her sniper rifle, she turned in the soft sand and walked towards the helicopter, feeling this sand squish beneath her boots as a light yet salty breeze wafted past her. "It's go time," she said to herself as she approached the chopper.

***********

The helicopter moved as quickly as it could towards the capital of Amestris, it's blades chopping through air like butter. Though she could tell the others were conversing with one another, the Assassin kept to herself in silent meditation. She blocked out everything external, focusing on two things and nothing more. First and foremost, the mission at hand and her job in it: providing sniper support when needed. Secondly, the song "Free the Toronto Nine" playing loudly into her ear from the headphones she wore. A fantastic jazz piece, one of her favorites. Listening to music helped Violet focus, and right now she needed it now more than ever. She couldn't let the loss of her friends or her failure in saving the King in the first place bother her now. All she needed to worry about was saving Dietrich now, and how much she loved saxophone.

Suddenly she felt a jolt as the helicopter hit the ground, the doors sliding open as the group began to disembark. Turning her mp3 player off and grabbing her rifle, she jumped out as well, taking in her surroundings. Though they were in a baseball field near the center of the city, there were large skyscrapers nearby, giving the sniper tons of vantage points for her to provide support. Also lots of places for other snipers to do the same however, a constant thought in her mind. As she did this she also took note on the team she was with. There was Elastor, an investigator with a funny accent named Zen, a soft spoken woman named Diety, a strange Doc Oc. like man named Pancake, a spec ops woman who's name she didn't know, a well dressed man who went by Reaver, and some fellow whom she didn't recognize. Shrugging her shoulders in a lack of interest towards most of them, she watched as Elastor and Zen went off on their own, obviously knowing where they were wanting to go. Violet's destination was a little, higher, however.

She tucked her hair into her skin tight cap and put on her visor, the heads up display activating automatically. After a few seconds of running diagnostics, the systems showed green across the board, it was time to roll out. Moving quickly and silently she made her way to the nearest building, her enhanced genetics showing as she sprinted up a nearby buildings stairs. Reaching the rooftop in record time, she stopped at the edge and looked across the city. Fires had started in certain places, though small at the current time. Small bursts of gunfire could be heard at times, obvious that the main RIOTE force hadn't arrived just yet. It was obvious they had evacuated recently, the city feeling like an empty wasteland. She could also see Elastor and Zen walking in the alleys below her, making their way to wherever it was they were going quickly. Though the sniper was curious, she knew that following them was not her job, only making sure they stayed alive.

Taking a few steps back, she ran forward and jumped across to the next rooftop, another display of her enhanced body. Landing lightly on the other side, she used the momentum to keep moving forward, jumping across another rooftop like some scene from Batman. Rolling onto the other roof, she quickly checked around her, making sure she was still alone. As if in response, a bullet whizzed by her, Violets reflexes pushing her around a corner to avoid further fire. Peeking around the corner she could see a sniper wearing a Drachman uniform in a window of a building across the street, aiming directly at where she was. Firing another shot, she pulled her head back, the bullet blowing off a chunk of the cement near her midsection. "Amateur," she mumbled to herself. Turning on her radio, she said over the comms "This is 2nd Lt. Violet D'Angelo reporting in. Almost to my destination, but a sniper decided to tell me differently. Permission to engage?" She hoped a permission granted would be the response, the more dead RIOTE agents the better...

[Guest]

The frown he got in return was nothing short of vile. "Shut up." Not a good day, really. Then again, he shouldn't have started it. The world of flawed child-like logic and moronic idioms was ever Zen's faithful companion. Their journey through the streets of Central was quiet save for the chattering of gunfire in the distance. RIOTE was probably here.

Elastor ground to a halt in front of him, and Zen panted, blissfully unaware of the cellphone. "Jesus, Ela, I am a smoka', ya' gotta be at least a 'lil sympathetic, ass-" The stern nod cut him off. Immediately, the investigator straightened back up, cradling the shotgun once more. The taunting voice of a woman was crackling on the other line; the Lieutenant Colonel couldn't exactly distinguish who he was, but he had a good enough guess. "Sekretar Bitchface," He hissed under his breath. A moment later, he snapped the cell back shut and hissed in response.

"Let's go," Zen blinked at first, before eagerly dragged away to destination unknown. The feelings of surprise that Ela knew his way around Central so well were quickly quelled by the fact that the man was still an enigma to just about everyone. Probably his family, too, to boot. A few more turns around a few more corners, the investigator's confusion bubbling up like some vast chemical reaction, and he stopped in his tracks.

"Just where tha' fuck are we goin' anyway?!" Zen swept himself down and scowled over in Ela's direction. "I'm not just a fuckin' tag-along low-IQ puppy who's gonna' lick ya' ass and boots, Ela, we've had this discussion befoah'," Standing his ground and planting his hands on his hips, the Cretan stared proudly over at his Royal Guard comrade, totally and completely defiant. "I'm a strong, intelligent, and mature adult-" The embossed font of a store named "Trump Galore" twinkled in his peripheral vision. Sparkly stuff shimmered on display in the windows. "HOLY SHIT, SHINY PLAYING CARDS!"

It wasn't long before he felt Elastor's ice-cold vice-grip on his collar again. It was like Laurel and Hardy. "BUT ELA, THEY HAVE AUTOMATIC CARD SHUFFLERS! CARD SHUFFLERS!" It wasn't long before his would-be comrade finally wrenched him away from the cards store, and a grumpy Elastor walked a glum-faced Zen the rest of the way towards the tuxedo store for some stupid reason. Goddamn. If Vanity wanted tuxes, he would have bought his regular suit.

Putting on a mock fashion designer voice with a smile, Zen skipped into the main foyer of the tuxedo store, stripping ties off and around left and right and tucking them into his pockets. Quickly shedding his clothes, the investigator dove straight into the dressing room and took his sweet time checking himself out in the mirror and practising James Bond poses. It wasn't long before he finally found himself kitted out once more; a white shirt, over which sat the Kevlar vest, cream jacket, white bottoms, and white dress shoes. Everything was white! It was so fantastic. It was almost a shame to take the most expensive tux in the shop to battle with a woman who was clearly Elastor's arch-enemy. "Style's incarnation has a name..." Crouching behind the various reels of jackets as the Guard impatiently waited at the store's entrance, Zen put on his deepest movie voice-over tones he could, and continued to speak. "ZEN HOWLER." With that, he stepped out into full view, hands on his hips, staring into the middle-distance and grinning like an idiot, hair still uncombed. And to top it off, he'd found himself a bright purple bow-tie, fastening it around his neck. "COMING TO BATTLEFIELDS NEAR YOU THIS AUGUST."

He prepared himself for the Elastor-class deathglare he'd probably get, but had long-since already decided it was one hundred percent worth it. The pair of them quickly stepped back out onto the streets, Zen still smiling blissfully, apparently having entirely forgot the automatic card shufflers. "Which wa--" The detective mulled over the half-sentence for a moment before knocking his head towards the left, pivoting on his heel, and walking. Damn, those dress shoes sounded sexy. Pistol at his waist, shotgun cradled, and all of his pocket goodies transferred to the inner jacket pockets, still wearing his gloves, he turned around to look at what would definitely be a dumbfounded look upon the auburn-haired guardsman's face.

"Well, it was simple. I triangulated tha' signal comin' from the call usin' my long-range signal capacitor, then quickly scrolled through tha' list of radio towers in this district of tha' city, then made an estimate based on price range and-" Zen cut himself off with spluttering hysterics, and spun around fully, walking backwards, with the largest grin ever on his face. If he hadn't almost tripped over, the manoeuvre would have almost looked stylish. "I'm shittin' ya. I read it in OK! a few months ago."

[Guest]

Her demand was so uncharacteristic of her, and it was especially presumptuous of her. She was completely disregarding her current rank at South HQ for a selfish desire to kick RIOTE in the unmentionables. As the Second-in-Command, her place was here with Shula aiding her in whatever it was that needed to be done. But at the same time, she could not help but want to aid in the fight back at Central. For once, Lisbeth was extremely nervous but she would not let it reflect in her features no matter what. Her concern was apparent and that was allowed to stay since who wouldn't be worried at the current situation? Her hands fidgeted a little at her sides as she took another step inside her bosses office. She slowly approached her desk with the sense that the air was thick as molasses with all the stress that was flying around Amestris at this point in time. Where her parents still alright? Had they gotten out to safety? If they tried to return to New Orleans, would they be stopped or attacked along the way? Was RIOTE anywhere else in the world? Was Spade alright at Central? Was--No. She had to stop spinning around in circles within her mind for it would do nothing to soothe anyones nerves, and she would end up putting herself into inaction rather than action. And right now, they needed everyone to be ready to move at a moments notice, including her.

Well, she had Shula's attention now. God this was just seeming like a worse and worse idea as the seconds ticked by since silence began to fill the air between the two women. Was stress the cause for such an idiotic request? She certainly wasn't in the best mental state right now, but that really didn't feel like any kind of valid excuse. And judging from Shula's expression at her request, her boss was just as perplexed as she was now. "Denied." Ouch. You know, that was something. No matter what request might be made (stupid or poorly chosen or what have you), if it was denied it still stung. Maybe it was the realization of how stupid she had been, or just that simple fact of being denied. Her lips tightened a little as she couldn't help but think of Spade and any others that she had met at Central city who were certainly in a flurry of motion right now to deal with the oncoming threat. But Shula was probably just as worried about Spade as she was. God she was being so loopy right now. "We still have refugees coming in from Central and the surrounding cities, and the Chancellor will be escorted here soon. With RIOTE backing Aerugo and their border right at our back door, and South being the weakest and most understaffed of the bases, we're too much of a liability. Amestris can't afford for any of us to leave this area."

She said nothing in response to the cold logic that stabbed both of them through so effectively, her blue eyes resting on Shula rather softly. "Of course." She said quietly, inwardly chastising herself for her hastily made request. Her worry over her family and friends had clouded her mind quite heavily. That was the only reason she would have dared to ask such a thing now of all times. "The Chancellor's envoy should be here soon. I need you to prepare an alternate route on the feeder road. Bring them away from the highway, out around the East loop, and they'll enter South City from the back roads since they'll be empty. I want escorts waiting for them, and a team positioned along the highway in the woods. I want the Chancellor and his wife to get here without a hitch. Dismissed." With a small bow of her head, Lisbeth turned and left the room, her heels thudding softly against the floor as she strode back down the hallway towards her own office. Time was wasting now, and she had to utilize every second possible. She had to forget about her parents for the moment, about anything except for her immediate task at hand of getting the Chancellor here safely.

The door swung open and slammed against the stopped on the wall, banging before settling and remaining quite wide open. She wasn't mad, she wasn't frustrated, she was just.... ashamed. And focused. If she could summon anymore focus she would have been bleeding from the eyes probably. She made a few phone calls to prepare before she left her office to head for a meeting room where she would speak to the appropriate people for this job. A notebook was tucked beneath one arm, a tight grimace pulling at her normally pretty features so she instead almost seemed... intimidating. She only had to wait a few moments before four individuals showed up in front of her, saluting her as they came through the door frame. She returned the salute and nodded for one of them to close the door behind them before she began, "Thank you for being so prompt, we have no time to waste. The Chancellor is on his way here with his wife and we must ensure that they arrive without any issues. I will take questions and comments after I have finished." And with that, she quickly explained the route that Shula had told her to have them take (with a couple of specifics of her own), her finger moving across the map with each stop. "Now I know the Brigadier-General wants escorts at these two points, but I want an extra squad there as hidden as freaking ninja's as a back-up. I realize that the Chancellor's envoy is already probably equipped with excellent soldiers, but I want to be extra sure. Stretch the men out along here and here, that should provide enough cover fire should a fight break out." She straightened up then and looked at each individual for a few seconds before moving onto the next, her hands folding behind her back as she stood up straight. "Any questions? No? Good. Be sure to be in constant communication, I will have a radio on me as well on this frequency," She slid a piece of paper towards the four of them, her notebook closing with a soft snap. "You have your task, go and do it. Dismissed." And with that, they nodded to her and left, leaving her alone in the room. She took a moment to look over the map again, running over the plan one more time in her mind before she sighed heavily.

She returned to her office, half-collapsing into her chair before rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes. This plan would work, it would have to.

[Spade Aeries]

"KEEP PUSHING ON. THE AMESTRIANS ARE WEAK." Under his breath, Spade scoffed in response, his eyes slipping to the side as the howitzer was prepared to fire upon the monster causing mayhem. Weak? Let's see how you feel once your throne is uplifted. A hand, as if directing an orchestra of destruction, raised. The round slammed into the side of a row of apartments anyone could have been living in. Things of daily life were taken up in the blast: beds, loose shoes, pictures off the walls, ripped wallpaper, spilled dog bowls bent beyond recognition... Despite having ruined various homes of the Amestrian people, one malicious RIOTE was cast into the rubble. Having evacuated, no one died. Having preemptively prepared, RIOTE were the ones that were cornered now. Smoke pivoted into the air, covering the area immediately in a haze of dust and debris. Gunfire paused like a video game, exclamations screaming through the dastardly eyes of the enemy. Spade was not so gracious. Now was the time to shoot to kill. His hand, having raised, unleashed a slew of wires, slithering like invisible snakes through the smoke. He yanked taught, blood spurting like human fountains, surprised yells being the last sounds of their mortal lives. No remorse; he was the same as them in this moment, only luckier.

Through the mortar--the tattered brick--the splintered wood, came a voice as vile a sound that one could register in their ears. Tamed gunfire rolled like thunder in the backdrop, a support beam cast away down a mountain of the destroyed. No longer a graveyard, it became the ashes from which something inhuman rose. "AMESTRIAN SWINE! YOU WON'T TAKE ME THAT FUCKING EASILY!" Sunlight shattered the grey cover as it cleared, ricocheting off his aviators in a defiant beam of justice. He lit a cigarette, taking a quick drag, and blowing it to the side. Fucking tenacious Tartarus bastard. It was the name of a goddamn place not some grimy, guttural-sounding chimera with a kill-everyone-who-resists fix. More like a gloomy dungeon beneath the underworld where souls were judged after death in ancient Plato mythology (c. 400 BC). So the fuck was this fool doing sporting around some half-assed bullshit name? It made no sense. Soldiers around him fired away, casually glancing in the direction of the chimera whether out of fear or out of countenance for the Lieutenant General.

Others weren't so smart. With strangled bewilderment, Spade witnessed as a small cluster of privates ventured into the folds of the wrecked apartments where the beast was sprawled, echoes diminishing from his anguished threat. "Fuck," Spade whispered under breath, knowing if he radioed them, the Tart would hear as well, killing them faster than they could get themselves killed. In the men's distance, Spade heard the aftermath of stupid choices, witnessed his own inability to prevent their deaths, and registered the shrills of round after round cast away into the abyss. "STRIKE." Spade swallowed hard, his teeth pressed tightly together in his own snarl. He said nothing; there was nothing to say. Hold fast to training for if human instinct kicks in, you will die. He shook his head, snipping the wires connected to the dead bodies of the RIOTE he felled. Spade turned to the side, firing two more shots at men who were drawing too near to his troops, taking them both out. Another replaced them, cowering behind a wall, firing sporadic shots, and then ducking back. The brunette waited, trained eyes glued to the small window where the man's neck would be when he threw his weapon out again in the hopes of ending an Amestrian life. The moment he ducked back out for that half a second, Spade's finger flexed the trigger and the man swallowed lead.

Two of the cluster suddenly burst out of the ruins, flailing madly with eyes wild from fear. On their tail was the chimera finally within sight. In slow motion, every detail was captured as if on lens. His own heart hammering as if he were running with them, Spade raised his rifle, taking aim, but it leaped onto one of the men, tearing through his flesh like paper, biting into him like steak so rare it was barely warm anymore. The man couldn't even scream--couldn't even register his own death for the pain was too great. In just passing breaths, he went limp, the other gaining distance towards the perimeter set up by his troops. Just...a little more. Keep running. Spade was powerless. It was like watching the Olympics Battle Royale style. His morbid thoughts inched on, the chimera gaining, gaining until his claw slashed into the soldier's throat, gurgling like thick, red mouthwash. As much as he wanted to, he didn't look away, his skin buzzing with the Dragon's Pulse, green eyes blazing like a wildfire gone Boric. This was no longer a battlefield; it was a fucking rabid petting zoo. "YOU." None other than Spade Aeries. He dropped his rifle into the jeep, slowly removing himself from around others, venturing to the edge of their line where the beast slumped into a feral pose as if to intimidate jungle into the concrete-crafted idealism of trigger-happy humans. "YOU WILL DIE NEXT."

"Bring it." The bastard charged like a mindless disformity of animal and man, grass kicked up like a lawnmower on crack, everything bared at him like it was Christmas in July. Spade remained just as he was, watching the chimera's form grow closer and closer until he could smell the rancid odor of metal on his breath, see the curl of his tongue flapping, and perceive each splash of his men's blood littered like garbage over his skin. Spade stepped to the side, watching the assault miss him by inches, catching sight of a piece of the fallen building jutting out of his shoulder. Spade, again, raised a hand, throwing out wire like a lasso to catch hold of the shrapnel. Treat an animal like an animal. He pulled.

[Guest]

Shokolat could sense even more stares than before at her odd dress amidst everyone else, and of course, the black feathered wings that portruded from her back so. Didn't people know it was rather rude to stare? At least the two in front of her didn't seem so bad despite their intimidating appearance with their weapons, so hopefully they would be willing or able to point her in the right direction to who she should speak to about offering aid. Then again, anyone in a higher position that would be able to take her offer was probably busy trying to plan around the insanity that would most certainly ensue. So when the man spoke, she was extremely relieved. "You found the right people then, Captain Anguissola. I'll keep this simple, you are to accompany the fine officer Furor here and protect the Chancellor, your contributions to Amestris will be heartily noted, and I'll be sure to send your King a gift, but now all that is honky dorey, get your ass moving and stick in formations." Startling a little bit, she saluted him and nodded once as she glanced to the woman that had been speaking to her superior upon her arrival. "Well hi there, miss. I'm Colonel Jay Furor, awesomeness extraordinaire! You'll be sticking with me, as it is." You could be an extrodinaire to awesome? Really? As curious as Shokolat was at this new discovery, there was no time to investigate since they were already moving.

In all honesty, she was a bit relieved that she would be paired with this Jay woman since, although she seemed a little eccentric, she wasn't as harsh as the man. It wasn't like she disliked anyone based upon harshness, its just that she wasn't quite used to it considering her countries military was rather.... erm.... well why don't we just leave it at that. "RIGHT-HO! We've not much time, Ms. Angelcakes! This is going to sound crazy, but trust me, you should do as I do." Angel... cakes? Wh-what? Oh dear.... Shokolat could already tell she was more than likely going to get lost amidst the fray by following after these two, but she had no real choice at this point considering. There were a few seconds delay as Jay took off for the window, her wings tucking tight against her body as she hurried over to it to leap herself. She heard from below just as she threw herself through the window, "JUMP, SHOKOLAT!" And soar she did. Her wings opened as she hit the open air, though she did not really glide as one might expect her to. No, she fell like any other human would, realizing just a bit too late that she would not survive the impact unscathed, not with her fragile bones.

She let out a squeak as she fell into the hatch, her wings at least slowing her fall a bit before wrapping back around her body. She felt arms catch her as she descended into the tank and blinked, looking up to Jay as she placed her down. Oh that had been too lucky of her! "Thank you..." She murmured quietly as she stepped onto her feet, her joints aching from the force of her landing despite being caught. If she had landed on her feet, she would have certainly broken something and been of no use to anyone later in this battle. Moving off to the side so she wouldn't be in the way, she watched Jay expertly pilot the massive vehicle with wonderment and awe. She'd never been in a tank before, only seen reports go by about them so this was a very new experience for her! As the tank slowed to a halt again, Shokolat's eyes grew wide at the sound of the person's voice and the title that Jay had given him, having to resist the temptation to peer up through the hole at the head of Amestris. "Goody day Mr. Chancellor, sir! This babe'll get us straight through to South, and I'd love to see those accursed vodka-chugging commies stop the Furor Express!~"

“Colonel Furor. I see you will be my escort then. Take some of those men with you, if you must. But I'll let you handle clearing the path.” Shokolat remained still as the movement continued, knowing she was being particularly quiet during this all but what else could she do? Should she have leaped out and joined one of the armored cars behind them? Though Jay told her that she would be traveling with her and so she should trust that. So once they were back on the road, her feathers rustled softly as she pushed her index fingers together nervously. "Um, Colonel Furor? Is there anything I can do right now to help?" She asked softly, hoping that she wasn't interrupting a train of thought or something right now. Maybe... this wasn't her best idea right now after all...

[Robyn]

Reaver left them behind. He had only joined them for a free ride after all. He was going to find them...they were all going to go home and enjoy a god damn cup of fucking tea! Grinding his teeth slightly trying to calm wrath down. All the anger and war was making his inner core mad and the screaming was maddening. A burning inside of him waiting to swallow him whole.

HE wondered if Barry had gotten through to anyone but he doubted it heavily as the poor ginger must be franticly calling down the phone at someone trying to get a hold of his siblings s one would say. Vanity the darling little sister her never taught he wanted whose kiss was addictive poison to many. Xanthus....The prideful sod who had charmed his way into Reaver's soul but was ever so fickle....Reaver would never know how the pair stood with each other even if they did at all?

Lastly there was lust....Beautiful with the same fear of time and death that he himself had. fallen to the hands of immortal sin in a desperate need to stay alive and youthful. Oh Reaver loved her because she was so much like him...and there was no one Reaver loved more then himself after all.

As he entered central the Tap of his cane somehow louder then the gun fire Reaver managed to somehow tune it out. Humming to himself softly the soft tunes of some English classical song as he walked down the street not care in the world almost as if the heart of Amestris was not being torn apart.

[Guest]

"Bring it." The Amestrian militant was defiant, standing and awaiting the charge. Balthazar spat up gravel and shards of rock, churning them as he moved, a ferocious rhinoceros on the charge. However, it was all-too-quickly too late; The leader had the one thing that he didn't, in this form. Agility. Dexterously slipping to the side, the General left the monstrous chimera to collide with the Jeep, and so he did. The side of it bent inwards in a colossal crater, spiked arms and claws screeching as they dragged along the side and cut through it like a can opener. The weighty vehicle spun on the road of Central and skidded away, handbrake be damned; the force with which the Drachman monster collided with it left it to topple and flip onto its side, giving off only smog, cracked paving slabs shearing holes in the bottom of it with ease.

The chimera toppled and clutched at his head. The pain was stemming the tide of the adrenaline; his muscles were aching. Not long that, he felt grunts of exertion behind him; human grunts, swiftly followed by a tugging in his shoulder. Murky black pools of darkness swelled and the eyelids above them widened as the monster they belonged to realised what was happening. The shrapnel. He'd left himself a weak spot. The tugging became stronger and stronger, and eventually, his body gave way, and drew the jagged shard of rock out, the rough edges tearing through flesh as it did so, eventually clattering along the floor behind him and leaving a bloody smear.

Even with the pain threshold the creature possessed in that form, he was close to a rabid animal, and rage increased the pain he could feel from that move twofold. He roared in writhing agony as the General yanked the shard of stone from his shoulder, liquid fire shooting through his veins and searing every inch of his arm as it did so. Deep, velvet red blood spurted initially from the open hole like a fountain, before just trickling down Balthazar's back. The echoes of the roars quickly faded into a low, guttural snarl, as the chimera re-aligned himself, lowering his body, and placing his hand over his shoulder to gingerly tap at the wound with his claws. Another roar as he found the shredded tissue to be just as painful as he'd presumed; though this one duller and more recognisable as sub-human. "HRAGH!"

Raising tainted claws to his mouth, a long, dog-like black tongue, slit into a V at the end like a snake's, darted out and slowly lapped all over them, licking them clean as a slow rumble escaped from the chimera's throat. "YOU WILL MAKE ME PAY FOR BLEEDING, AMESTRIAN." He let his grotesque, clawed imitation of a hand fall back to his side. "BUT FIRST, KNOW THAT YOU ARE THE FIRST WITH AN OUNCE OF WORTH OR TENACITY IN YOUR BLOOD TO FACE ME HEAD ON." He stared at Spade and blinked as the deep stench of diesel filled the air, trickling from the Jeep's split fuel tank. "MY NAME IS BALTHAZAR. AND WHILST YOU ARE TENACIOUS, AND DEFINITELY POWERFUL, LEADER..." A slow, trembling, booming laugh erupted from the bottom of his throat. "THIS WILL NOT SAVE YOU FROM YOUR INEVITABLE DEATH!"

Taking a step backwards to the car, Balthazar pivoted his head and turned as blood continued to well from the open wound. "YOUR PEOPLE ARE THE SCUM OF THIS WORLD." The top wheel, the one closest to the black, armoured behemoth, was still slowly gyrating as the alarm whined within. The chimera crushed shards of glass into a fine powder beneath his feet as he stepped, placing his hands around the spinning wheel, stopping it immediately. Off-yellow claws immediately pierced the rubber, and air hissed out with a gentle whine. "YOU ARE A SHAME TO THE HUMAN RACE. DRACHMANS ARE THE ELITE, AND YOU WOULD DARE ATTEMPT TO BESMIRCH THIS WITH YOUR PETTY ATTEMPTS TO DEFEND YOUR CITY?"

The car's axle slowly creaked. The metal beneath whined and moaned as Balthazar tugged, his arms gradually rising upwards. The rusted edge of the brake's visible sheet within the wheel glimmered in the sun as the metal only creaked more. Slowly, the chimera pressed his foot against the wreckage for support, and wrested the wheel upwards until the axle split from its bindings, both wheels still attached. With a gentle ping beneath the metal's creak, the first screw popped out; over a half-dozen followed in its wake, and it wasn't long before the chimera wrenched the axle free.

[INITIATE BATTLE THEME]

Spinning around with the widest grin on his face he could muster, teeth splitting through his lips and carving fresh wounds alongside the old, clotted ones, blood trickled down Balthazar's chin in a wave as he growled to the leader once more. "YOUR PATHETIC ATTEMPTS TO WREST US FREE OF THIS PLACE ARE FUTILE." Slowly, he rose his weapon. The axle of a car, wrenched free from the jeep, with both wheels still attached. He swung it forwards like a makeshift mixture of a giant spear and hammer coupled together, pointing one of the gyrating cylinders at Spade, swinging the axle through the air and stomping forwards, re-aligning his stance. The embossed Jeep glimmered in the sunlight. "GIVE UP NOW. GRANT YOURSELF AN EASY DEATH. SAVE YOUR SOUL FROM THE PAIN I WILL INFLICT UPON YOU, MORTAL GENERAL...."

That grin widened as the chimera's grip around the metal tightened. The thick steel beneath creaked as the calloused underskin of giant, clawed fingers made trench-like depressions and indentations, as the booming voice stemming from Balthazar's throat made one last threat. "...OR I WILL TEAR YOUR PATHETIC BODY APART, AND STRING YOUR HEAD FROM MY NECK LIKE A TROPHY OF WAR." Brandishing his weapon, the chimera grinned and uttered one last half-threat veiled as a goading "offer", the gasoline still flowing like a river.

"MAKE YOUR CHOICE, AMESTRIAN."

[Guest]

It didn't take Rebecca too long to find something to her liking amongst the stores that they had brought with them on this particular venture, however, she still felt severely lacking in preparedness for the fight that she knew to come. "I changed my mind Edi. I want those stores ready for my arrival. Hopefully the place hasn't been bombed to all hell." She murmured softly as she pulled out a rifle to examine it before returning it into the box. Why in the world hadn't she brought more with her? "Very well Tali. Shall I offer assistance to the evacuation into South City? It would seem that the Chancellor is on his way there now in a convoy." It was here that she paused in her examination, raising her crimson eyes to stare off into the distance. "Yes. But don't be too obvious about it. I don't need the Amestrian army, or anyone for that matter, investigating my ass." "I will practice the utmost discression." And with that the communication line was cut just as Zen walked up behind her to gather up whatever he needed.

She did not turn to look at him, instead returning to the task at hand as she took one last look at the rifles before grabbing a couple more extra clips for the pistols that she had and a decent semi-automatic to go along with it her stores. She also managed to find a couple of grenades that she added into one of her pouches at her waist before her helmet went back on and the screen on the inside flickered to life. The world swirled into an image on the inside of her blackened out visor of the motorcycle helmet, analyzing the terrain, sounds, wind speeds, and whatnot about her. With one last deep breath, she turned her body and headed towards the chopper, ignoring Pancake for the moment as he shot some hot headed words towards Elastor who was clearly in a rather foul mood. She couldn't blame him honestly, this was hardly the most ideal of situations or anything. But there was one thing that she knew for sure; they would not fail. Her boots thudded softly as she began running a few scans of the situation at their destination, taking a seat before they lifted off.

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

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Why aren't we there yet?"

Oh for the love of Christ....

The annoyance towards the loud mouth was clear throughout the entire cabin though Zen's words were the most amusing to her out of the lot of them. She didn't wait for the helicopter to completely touch down and instead leaped out into the open air with little to no hesitation, her arms drawing close to her body as she shot downwards towards the ground. Waiting until the perfect moment, she then lifted her wrist and shot out a thin, small cable that buried itself deep into a building, allowing her to swing between it and through another window of what appeared to be an office building of some kind. The cable retracted into itself with the press of a button on her wrist as she rolled into the room and slowed till she was back on her feet when she promptly took off running through the halls towards the ground floor. She drew out the semi-automatic just to be safe as she burst through the front door and out onto the streets of Central City.

So far so good, there seemed to be very few forces about in this particular area which meant she could move around with relative ease. This was just a quick little detour, this wasn't wasting precious time at all. As everyone else was taking off from the helicopter, she was already a few blocks away at a full run, moving as fast as her body would allow. She had a bit of a distance to cover to get to her safe house where she knew she would find some of her equipment to aid her in this endeavor. "Edi, little help here." She murmured into her helmet as she rounded a corner to catch the tail end of a squad of RIOTE soldiers proceeding towards the center of the city if she was any judge. She did not hesitate to adjust her grip on her gun to toss a grenade into their midst and kept running, ducking down and moving about to dodge the shots that were coming after her. She could still feel the heat of the explosion at her back even as she took off down an alleyway to cut line of sight. As she moved through it towards the other side, she could hear the roar of a motorcycle and it made her smirk, slowing to a stop just as the vehicle approached her. She quickly climbed on and revved the engine, taking off for her destination at much higher speeds.

Within ten minutes she arrived at her destination that was a rather modest looking apartment building, her eyes resting on the second floor to see if there were any signs of a break in. She wouldn't be surprised if RIOTE tried to break in at all but that would have resulted in-- Gunfire rang out from within and she couldn't help but smirk and shake her head, parking her bike and dismounting to hurry towards the door. She pressed her back against the wall before peeking around the corner to see if there were any soldiers on the stairs, her helmet reading two live ones ahead of her. Caution or..... Oh fuck it. Rounding the corner, she hurried towards the base of the stairs and fired upwards, propelling herself up as the first fell to her. The second man seemed too startled by both the room from hell and this sudden attacker to react with his best reaction time. Three bullets buried themselves into his skull quickly as she continued onward to her humble abode in Central. "Code Gamma-Tango-Kilo-194." She spoke as she slid the semi-auto back into its holster, the doorknob turning to let her in. She had to step over a couple of bodies, paying no mind to the scorch marks on the wall as the door closed behind her.

Pulling her helmet whilst catching her breath, Rebecca wasted no time heading to the one closet and pressing the hidden mechanism that let the back wall slide away to reveal a rather terrifying arsenal of weapons and gadgets. She held out her wrist to a hole in the wall as she examined her cache to judge best while the little tank of knock out gas was refilled should she need to use it again. Given what she already had, she decided to add a katana that she strapped to her back, and..... Her eyes paused on one of the smaller gadgets that would go on her wrist and decided, why the hell not? She inputed a few things into the screen next to the hole for her wrist and held out the other one into it so that it too replenished its gas supply, but also gained a little thing she invented in a fit of nostalgia for the Renaissance. A small crossbow that would extend at the correct input command with a rapid fire setting and a few different types of ammo for her to use. She also grabbed some special ammo for her pistols and then stepped away, taking a deep breath as her heart calmed down beat by beat. Alright, it was time. "Edi, I want you to see if you can track down where Zen is." "Of course Tali." Came the immediate response as Rebecca strode back into the kitchen, her weapons cache vanishing behind its hidden panel as she poured herself a glass of water. "It would appear that he is with Elastor Ito in pursuit of Sekretar Alena who has Lord Dietrich with her. The limo they traveled in is on fire and I can only detect one of the entourage from the White House with complete certainty." Maybe that one person was Aurel which meant she could finish what she began back in Creta. "Thank you Edi." She murmured as the glass hit the sink and she picked up her helmet from the counter to slide it back over her head.

Pulling the semi-auto back out, she carefully stepped out of the door to find that the area was still relatively deserted which meant that escape would remain easy. Hurrying down the stairs to her bike, she climbed onto it and took off, heading towards the coordinates that Edi had forwarded to her helmet. It was a random apartment complex that was surprisingly not too terribly far from her current location which made Rebecca wonder if this was a set up. Why bring Lord Dietrich there? Grimacing, she revved her engine one more time before pulling her bike up onto one wheel, zooming down the street as the second wheel touched back down to carry her towards whomever this lone life form was. She sped around the corner to see the wreckage of the limo and a girl with... wings? A chimera was here? Raising the semi-automatic she fired at Nyx in three round bursts before speeding past to curve around another corner on her motorcycle. She swerved down a street and came down another street towards the apartment building before her bike slid to a stop by a corner across the street, staring towards this member of RIOTE with a grimace that was hidden by her black helmet. Bring it little angel.

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