Bitter Pills of Fate

[Guest]

Randolph fell against the side of a building, snow pouring around him. It was so cold now, and it was only going to get colder. Whoever that guy was who stopped him and Animos on the train was getting to seem like even bigger a thorn the more the chimera thought about what happened. At first it seemed the bullet had simply grazed him, but after jumping from the locomotive, also a bad idea, the wound tore. He was left walking back up north, a bleeding wreck. He didn't like to admit it, but he needed help.

Pulling himself back up, the man struggled to get back around the building. It was getting darker out by the minute, and he didn't have much time to get the assistance needed. Keeping to the side of the town's streets he looked frantically around him for a doctor's office of some sort. The snow showed him no mercy, and all he could do against it was pull his jacket tighter around him, which worsened his limp.

Finally he spotted it. The sign that was his last hope. Walking up the steps, the light of the office seemed to warm him. Randolph felt relief for the first time in what seemed like ages. He reached for the door, and...

Badump.

What?

Bum bum bum bum bum.

The lights went out one by one. The door was locked. Randolph was too late. A laugh escaped his lips as he fell to his knees, eyes upon the sky.

"This is how it ends then?! This is how I go out! Such a karmic fate this is! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" His laughter then caught in his throat, and Randolph gasped. Everything was swirling around him, he was slowly losing consciousness. This was it. He fell to the ground, snow slowly falling upon him, his blood darkening the crystalline flakes beneath him. And then... darkness.

[Guest]

It was another cold evening in North City and Cora was bundled up in her normal black military jumpsuit with fleece accents wrapped about her arms, legs, torso, and feet. She looked like she might have been trying to cosplay as some kind of animal, but she truly wasn't. It just kept her warm without sacrificing movement. She was just on her way back from Sweat Pea Tea to head towards Fort Briggs that was still recovering from the attack by Drachman/RIOTE forces when she noticed a particularly distinctive smell amidst the snow. And that, was of blood. It didn't matter that she was off duty or recovering from an injury of her own, she was a doctor and that smell meant someone needed her help. Pulling out a flashlight from a pocket, she began to search for the source of that metallic scent, her lips tightening into a thin grimace out of concern. No, she could never catch a break at all. Not that she particularly minded, she did love the work that she did, but it was still one of those things.

As she ran along a particular street, she noticed it, a single pool of crimson that was a stark contrast to the brilliant white of the snow that continued to fall. It was a trail that would lead her to whatever soul was so severely injured, and she hurried to follow it. "This is how it ends then?! This is how I go out! Such a karmic fate this is! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Well, there he was. He didn't sound like the most sane of people, but when did that ever stop her? Besides, it could just be words spouted from a fit of desperation. So Cora ran forward and spotted the man just as he slumped over in the snow on the stairs leading up to a doctors office that had grown dark on the evening street. The lamp light fell over his figure like a spotlight and she did not slow until she was at his side. He was bleeding rather heavily from a gunshot wound that had certainly soaked through his clothes. "Shit." She muttered under her breath as she took a deep breath to prepare herself before lifting him up so she could lay him down on the flat pavement. Lordy was he heavy....

It took a couple of moments, but she succeeded, instantly going into the pouch at her hip that she always had with her. She pulled out some bandages and scissors, cutting away the fabric around the wound, shinning her flashlight into the wound to make sure that none of his clothes had gotten trapped in his flesh. Drawing a pentagram in the snow beneath his wound, for once she got to use the metal throwing needles to mark it, activating part of her alkahestry to prevent him from bleeding out. "Come on, stay with me buddy." She murmured as her hands quickly bound the wound tightly, holding the flashlight between her teeth so she could still see. Once he was wrapped up, she placed both hands on either end of the injury and took a deep breath, concentrating on blood cells within his body so that she could replenish them at least enough till she could get him somewhere that she could treat him properly. North City Hospital was too far, she had to take care of him soon.

Once he was stabilized, she ripped the needles out of the snow and stuffed them back into another pouch at her hip, taking another deep breath before she picked him up. Ok, what the hell was around here.... Her dark eyes scanned the empty streets for something to jog her mind, finally settling upon a nearby motel. "That'll do." Cora set off down the street towards the bright light and kicked the door open which startled the man behind the desk. "I don't care what room, just give me a room now. I need to treat this man. I am Doctor Cora Nikita of Fort Briggs and this man is my patient." She called, hearing how the man must have scrambled to accomodate her. He wasn't about to question her. He directed her towards a room on the first floor, helping her carry Randolph inside and onto the bed. Turning to the man, she did flash him her ID and gave him a tired smile, "Thanks. I'll take care of the paperwork once he's stabilized." She told him, then taking whatever aid the man offered.

With a metal tray on the bedside table and lots of towels, she undid the bandage to take a better look at the gunshot wound and sighed lightly. It was now that she went to work to pull the fragments out of the unconscious man, taking her time now that she was in at least a slightly more ideal location to properly treat him. Once she was done pulling out the fragments, she did have to sew up the wound with a needle and thread, her stitches careful and precise. Overall, she was finished with her patient within a half an hour and he was out of danger for the most part. And it was only then that she could breathe a sigh of relief. Settling back into a chair beside the bed, Cora rubbed her eyes and held in her yawn, the man from the front desk checking back in. Now she took care of that pesky paperwork, also asking for a small meal while she waited for the man to awaken.

[Guest]

"Wake up, Styxx..."

What was this? Was he dreaming?

"There's more work to be done, my child."

This voice was so familiar, but he spoke in a tongue Randolph had no grasp of. The chimera opened his eyes only to be nearly blinded by the surgical lamps above him. All he could see from the man standing next to him, besides his thin figure, was a menacing smile. Who was he?

Quickly the vision escalated into a nightmare as the lights dimmed. The man standing above him was no stranger. It was himself. The figure had taken on his own appearance, its smile growing ever so morbid. He leaned over Randolph, and his smile faded.

"You've yet to realize your true purpose here."

Just as the surgical blade came down on his chest in the dream, Randolph awoke, shooting up with a gasp. He was covered in cold sweat, his surroundings much warmer than he recalled. Looking around the room in a panic, he then slowed himself, his smile returning as he placed his face in his palms. What was that dream? Were his memories trying to fight their way back? Looking up, he then noticed the woman sitting at the desk in the room.

"You... were you... the one who saved me?" He tried his hardest not to laugh. Not even a giggle. He had to fake normalcy, no matter how much he wanted to let loose after his vision. Randolph had to calm himself.

[Guest]

Cora could hear that he was beginning to toss and turn in his sleep, her brown eyes glancing back on occasion as she ate the meager meal that constituted as a sort of dinner. Or would it be night time snack? No matter, it wasn't really that important. She had cleaned off her instruments in the sink that she could reuse, and threw out the ones that would certainly have to be replaced for the simple fact of being used. She made a mental note of what she would have to replenish in her pouch just as she was about to take a sip of her coffee, whipping around while reaching for where her pistol was hidden as he bolted upright with a rather loud gasp. She stopped herself before actually drawing out her pistol, exhaling slowly as she pushed herself up, placing the cup back down on the desk. Drawing a gun on a patient that just woke up was never a wise thing at all.

"You... were you... the one who saved me?" She sat back down in her chair beside his bed, checking the stitches that she had made in his hip. Good, he hadn't pulled them wrong from bolting upright. "I am indeed. My name is Dr. Cora Nikita, 2nd Lieutenant at Fort Briggs. What is your name?" She asked him quietly, deciding to hear what he had to say before jumping to any real conclusions. While she had been filling out the paperwork earlier, she had received a call about a certain incident on the train that involved individuals and one of them matched his description. So she had to wonder, what had he been doing on that train or who his accomplices were. Thus far the whole thing was still under investigation so not too much was known, but she would certainly try to find out a bit if she could. She had to admit though, that wasn't really her first priority at this point. Tending to her patient was always the top priority. Once she was satisfied with his wound, she pulled out her flashlight again, leaning over him so she could look him in the eye. "I'm just going to shine this light in your eye ok? Just look straight ahead at me." She moved the flashlight between his eyes, watching how his pupils dilated for a short moment before she was satisfied. Good, he was out of danger for now.

"How in the world did you sustain this injury?" She asked him quietly, brushing her chin length hair out of her face and behind her ears as she stared at him calmly.

[Guest]

Another militant? Saved by someone working for the same government that tried to kill him. If this was karma, whatever divine beings at work here were just making a joke of Randolph's life now, surely. Did he even have a life now though? Yes. Yes he did. He still had much work to do. Randolph had to find the one who took his old life away from him. As long as he knew his goal, he knew he was alive.

"My name is Randolph Styxx... heheh... No profession."

She then shone the light in his eyes. He hated that, he hated having light put in his face in any way, even if it didn't have any negative effects on him other than having to refocus. He could control his anger though. Randolph had no reason to hurt this woman. She was serving a purpose, she was doing something the rest of her military had no thought for. Cora was saving lives.

"How in the world did you sustain this injury?" She asked him. He didn't doubt that she had received word of the train incident, everyone had probably given a thorough description of him and Animos now, wherever that man had run off to. He couldn't twist the truth about it either, it was probably obvious to a doctor how he had been injured.

"I won't lie, I had a pretty heavy fall... it tore a wound I had from a gunshot beforehand. Heheheh... Clumsy of me." He took notice of his surroundings after saying this. In his condition, he would most likely tear the stitching if he took for the window. The door was his only option here, but knowing what he did he could assume she had a gun, but would she use it? Just another wound to treat later, probably not. Unless of course they already had a notice to kill him anyway.

Randolph would take the risk if it meant surviving and achieving his goal. The shark was not easily derailed from its sights.

[Guest]

Well he was at least coherent and could definitely speak, he had no memory issues and could answer her questions so he didn't appear to have suffered any mental injuries from his fall or blood loss. That made her job a lot easier. "My name is Randolph Styxx... heheh... No profession." No profession? Well then, she at least had his name now. From the report that definitely matched, but that meant that the other.... What was his name.... Animos was it? Animos was probably still at large. So then the question was even though he was injured and still recovering, what did she do with him? Retain custody until a proper investigation could be conducted was an absolute, but what until then? Just hold onto him until more militants could come investigate? She wasn't sure if Stuka would end up being the one wanting to investigate or not though from his reputation she wasn't sure if he would be the wisest candidate at the moment. Especially considering his involvement with the incident on the train.

"A pleasure to meet you Mr. Styxx." She spoke softly, retracting the flashlight back into a pocket as she settled back into her chair to observe him. Now it was just a matter of observing how he would answer her questions. "I won't lie, I had a pretty heavy fall... it tore a wound I had from a gunshot beforehand. Heheheh... Clumsy of me." Cora raised an eyebrow and sighed lightly, at least gaining an explanation for that. "I can honestly say usually when people come to me with gunshot wounds, they don't need stitches afterwards. At least it wasn't any worse than it was. You are very lucky that I happened along when I did, or else we might not be having this conversation." She chuckled softly, running a hand through her hair as she continued having an inward debate over what to do.

"Well Mr. Styxx, I also won't lie, I'm trying to figure out what to do with you." She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, leaning back a bit to stare at him cooly. "As I'm sure you've guessed, I have indeed received a report about the events on the train and been given a description of your appearance. Unlike my comrades, however, I have no interest in interrogation while you are healing from a wound. That is not how I function. That does not mean I can simply let you go though. I do hope you understand." She shrugged slightly and sighed, leaning forward as both of her feet hit the ground, leaning her elbows against her knee's as she stared at him. "So why don't you just tell me what happened on the train, hm? I much prefer being civil about all of this given the circumstances."

[Guest]

This woman was too quick to show her hand. Was it from inexperience, or was she just underestimating Randolph and the circumstances? Either way, Randolph would not act as quickly. He had time to play this out carefully, even if both parties didn't view this in such a manner.

"What happened? If you'll allow me to quote a certain alchemist..." The chimera then smirked darkly and paused, knowing this would never come from his own mouth in the same way it had escaped Ayden's. Still, it fit so well. "What I did on that train was art, madame. Raw emotion, turning the hands of fate with my own rage, my own laughter, my own..." He stopped once again, turning his head away from Cora and looking down at his hands. His smile grew as the last word found its way to his lips. "...terror."

Lifting one leg at a time, he turned, sitting up in the bed. A small sigh slid through his teeth as he allowed his body to rest once more. The wound was not ready for such movements, but he needed to even the playing field, somehow, in any way. He knew nothing of this woman, and she had yet to give any sign of weakness for him to work with. He would have to start this in his usual way.

"Ms. Nikita, if you could humor me with an answer, I must ask... what is your favorite color?"

[Guest]

"What happened? If you'll allow me to quote a certain alchemist..." Oh this was going to be good, wasn't it? She could only imagine who in the world he would be quoting at this particular time. "What I did on that train was art, madame. Raw emotion, turning the hands of fate with my own rage, my own laughter, my own..." Her eyebrow slowly raised as she tapped her thumbs together thoughtfully, straightening up in her seat as she ran through a mental list of alchemists that she knew who might say such a thing. "...terror." His thought complete, hers were not and so she left it alone as to who said it and more upon what he said. He was clearly a man who enjoyed his violence and took pride in his destructive work, thus he was a force to be reckoned with. She concluded to herself that if she had to she would use her alkahestry for more... destructive purposes.

The moment he began to move to sit up, she sat a bit further on her seat, catching herself before she told him to stop. "Be careful how you move or else you'll rip the stitches out." She told him quietly instead, her eyes watching his movements very carefully as he slowly shifted on the bed to face her now. He was not going to be a patient who listened to her, was he? Joy. "Ms. Nikita, if you could humor me with an answer, I must ask... what is your favorite color?" .... What? Sighing lightly, she pushed herself up and returned to the desk to sip at her coffee, the slightly bitter liquid warm against her throat. What was he playing at? Was he testing the field with her? Planning his escape? He certainly wouldn't get far with his wound for if he tried it would certainly rip open again. So she would play along for now, see what else she could discover from him.

"Now that is a rather random question... My favorite color..." She murmured thoughtfully, scratching the back of her head with a light sigh. Oddly enough that was a rather difficult question for her since it was something she never thought too seriously about. "I'm not really sure to be honest. I'll go with blue for now. What of yours?"

[Guest]

"Now that is a rather random question... My favorite color..." Randolph let out a slight chuckle at this, but still held back. It was hard to keep his laughter at bay, he could feel a tightening in his chest as he carried on with the act. Would he explode if he continued? That would be quite the sight, he imagined. Death from not laughing, how disturbing yet hilarious! No, no, he had to keep it together, even if just a bit longer.

"I'm not really sure to be honest. I'll go with blue for now. What of yours?" Such a typical color. Usually chosen by those who have no taste for such things they'd consider trivial, or someone of a different variety... Someone of calm mind, someone who enjoys to look to the skies for comfort on this planet. It was a nice choice, to be sure, but Randolph had no personal use for such people. They proved to be weak in the end, at least in his eyes.

"Mine should be obvious to you by now, Cora. May I call you Cora?" Another chuckle. This was really eating him now. "Mine is that which gives us life. That which runs true through our veins. The color of blood." Placing his chin to the backs of his now crossed hands, Randolph looked into the doctor's eyes. It was a fierce stare, but not one to bring fear, rather to try and keep tabs on his companion's bearings.

"Blue, the color of the sky and ocean. The things which give life to those creatures which in turn make sure we live, hm? I'd like to imagine there's a deep reason to such a choice, but I'll stand off from such a query for now." A giggle escaped, causing the chimera to clench his teeth a bit. Still, would it be so bad to just show her his madness?

"I would ask another question, but I feel that would be rude of me. What if we make this... quid pro quo? This for that?" Randolph smiled eerily at the end of this, his teeth seeming to glow in the lighting. This technique was normally used by detectives and the like, but he could try to turn it around in this way. It was one thing to investigate a criminal, but how would one feel when the criminal is the investigator?

[Guest]

In all seriousness, Cora already had her suspicions when it came to what his answer would be given his mannerisms from before. It was unfortunate, but more often than not, these were the types of people who worked completely against her goals in life. Then again this wasn't always the case. There were certainly plenty of ways to help people, but violence for the sake of violence rarely helped anyone. "Mine should be obvious to you by now, Cora. May I call you Cora?" She had to resist sighing out loud, did he really have to disregard her title at least? Her military rank she rarely cared about, but she was a doctor first and foremost. "I feel like if I tried to ask you to do otherwise, you wouldn't listen anyways. So go ahead and call me by my first name, Randolph." She murmured softly, taking a moment to sip at her coffee once more. "Mine is that which gives us life. That which runs true through our veins. The color of blood." Nope. Not surprising in the least bit.

She returned to her chair and sat back down, slowly raising her gaze to meet his. "Blue, the color of the sky and ocean. The things which give life to those creatures which in turn make sure we live, hm? I'd like to imagine there's a deep reason to such a choice, but I'll stand off from such a query for now." Oh she was sure he would just love to know, wouldn't he? His giggle made her sigh softly, propping her cheek up against her hand as her elbow rested on the arm of the chair. Well if nut jobs were to find anyone, she supposed a doctor was the best option out of anyone. "I would ask another question, but I feel that would be rude of me. What if we make this... quid pro quo? This for that?" Her eyebrow raised slowly as she began to smirk herself, downing the rest of her cup with a soft chuckle.

"A question for a question then? Sure, why not. So answer me this then, your teeth are not natural. Either you file them that way, or you may be a chimera." May as well be direct and to the point. She could have pressed further, but figured she would let him answer for himself. He clearly was a carnivorous species if he were a chimera though the possibilities varied quite heavily past that point. If she was dealing with a chimera though.... That could be somewhat troublesome. She really hoped he wasn't going to look for a fight.... Then she'd have to stitch him up again.

[Guest]

Oh, this girl definitely was a clever one. The doctor was quick to notice his teeth, or... had she looked at them while he was out? Either could be true, but Randolph would grant her the former if only because it amused him.

"Yes, quite so. You've hit the nail on the head with that... or should I say 'punched the shark in the nose'?" That was it, he couldn't hold it back any longer. His laughter rang out through the inn, and he nearly doubled over, but even in this state he knew the possibility of his stitching coming undone. Wiping his brow with his forearm, Randolph then seemed to calm once more. "Chimera indeed. Let's continue, shall we?"

Cracking his knuckles and giving a quick look over at his nails, the madman seemed to have gotten lost in thought. In reality he was trying to come up with the best way to put this that wouldn't completely rattle the woman across from him. Cora knew he was insane, that much was true, but she had no need to be aware of what level of insanity the chimera dwelt in. Finally he looked to her again and smiled once more.

"Surely in your line of work you've seen many an injury, witnessed many a death, and I have to wonder... why exactly did you choose such a career? Why do you work to patch up the dogs that the government has made their playthings?"

[Guest]

The sleek, black car drew up outside the inn at a snail's pace. The driver within sighed; this wasn't his ideal job, any day of the week. Ayden Derocha was an assassin, not a delivery boy; but a very important person had paid him a lot of money to play fetch. The silver-haired assassin knew all too well that sending anyone non-Amestrian military in to fetch a fugitive could easily result in an international incident, and he knew he best fit the bill, but for some reason, the murderer still didn't like it.

It wasn't good business to change your modus operandi at the last minute. Something horrid swirled within, and the beast inside Ayden's gut tugged on the bars of its cage once more. Whilst there was no real threat of him losing control... these things were just messy. Murder was so simple and clear-cut. You kill, you leave. Here... if this could be traced back to him in the slightest, things got far more complex. Of course, the assassin didn't doubt his ability; the payment was good, and he had obviously made contingency plans to make the thing look as meticulously accidental as possible, but for some reason, he still felt a heavier weight than usual upon his shoulders.

Brushing gloved fingers against his chin and yanking the handbrake, Ayden smiled. Even if this wasn't a usual operation... well, it was a usual target. He'd adapted the situation and the resources at his disposal to work it as best he could. Reaching for a small, disposable flip-phone he kept in the glove compartment of the Audi, the assassin tapped in four letters: "CORA." As was Briggs protocol, he had contact details for just about everyone in a position of interest at the fort. Reila, Daigoro, Murazar, Jet... even Akito and Cora, some of the lower-ranking members.

Regardless, tapping in her name, the name highlighted, the assassin hit the dial button and pressed the receiver against his ear. The dial tone rung three times, resonating like an ominous echo of the events that would come to play out, before it finally connected. Upon his lap sat a vague collection of surveillance images and photocopied documents he'd collected for a makeshift dossier; black marker outlined two words on the top page, Ayden intermittently tapping his finger against the ink. "SPEAKS XINGESE."

The line connected with a subtle click. "Second Lieutenant Nikita. Don't talk. Just listen." She would probably be able to tell it was him from his voice alone; accent aside, Ayden spoke distinctly enough that anyone who had been around him could tell. "After I finish these few sentences, I'm going to switch to Amestrian, and tell me what to do. Do not let on that you are talking to anyone to your patient. Refer to me as "dad", only speak Amestrian into the phone, and pretend that this is a family call. Is this clear?"

Ayden waited for no response before switching to Amestrian. "The man in that room with you is dangerous. If he finds out you are talking about him, he will most likely attempt to kill you. At the moment, all you need to do is stay calm. In a few minutes, I'm going to walk through the door, apprehend him, and begin driving back to Briggs to detain him. You've done a fine job, Second Lieutenant, but we'll take it from here. If this all goes to plan, I'll recommend a promotion to General Tsukino." He smiled. The first phase was complete. If Cora went along with this, everything would unfold within moments. "Now. I'm going to hang up. Say goodbye, tell me that "you hope mom is feeling better", and that you love me, before finally putting the phone down." A pause. The assassin slowly exhaled. "Remember, Second Lieutenant Nikita. This man is dangerous."

Click. Ayden snapped the phone shut and tossed it aside. Grasping a pair of sunglasses from the dashboard and handcuffs from the passenger seat, the assassin removed his keys from the car, and tucked the menagerie of objects into his jacket pocket, slipping the sunglasses on and reaching down to his shin to remove Astaroth from its holster, flicking off the safety, opening the car door and getting out with a stretch and a sigh.

The assassin slowly inhaled the fresh air of North City, looking up to the inn, a smile cruising slowly onto his face. If today went to plan, it was going to be a very lucrative day.

[Guest]

Was it bad that the only reason she was vaguely worried about him potentially attacking was the fact she'd have to fix him again? Heh, she was sure that her family would merely sigh and shrug if she had asked them. Although her sister would have flat out told her that there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. "Yes, quite so. You've hit the nail on the head with that... or should I say 'punched the shark in the nose'?" Huh. So a shark chimera then. She did not move as he burst out laughing, the small room filling with the sound of it. All she did was shift how she was sitting and adjust where her bracelets fell beneath her coat. He really was just off his knocker wasn't he? Ah well, let him have his laugh if it would keep him from even thinking about trying to fight in his current state. "Chimera indeed. Let's continue, shall we?" She nodded once in answer to him.

So what was he going to ask her next? Hmm... She should PROBABLY be trying to think of how to subdue him until she could notify the proper authorities, but she had to admit she found him a bit interesting. She was a doctor, she couldn't help but wonder what made him this way. Maybe that made her a little insane. Or tired, whichever came first at this point. "Surely in your line of work you've seen many an injury, witnessed many a death, and I have to wonder... why exactly did you choose such a career? Why do you work to patch up the dogs that the government has made their playthings?" She nodded slowly at first, her brows furrowing slightly as she considered his wording on his second question. "I should count that as two questions, but I think I'll still answer you-" Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, making her stop as she pulled it out, pausing before she dragged her finger across the screen. "Do excuse me Mr. Styxx."

"Second Lieutenant Nikita. Don't talk. Just listen." Well now that wasn't expected. Xingese, and an officer she hadn't gotten to speak to a lot. Ayden Derocha if she was any guess. They had maybe spoken once or twice in passing in the hallways? She made a note that she would have to ask him to stop in for a check-up. "After I finish these few sentences, I'm going to switch to Amestrian, and tell me what to do. Do not let on that you are talking to anyone to your patient. Refer to me as "dad", only speak Amestrian into the phone, and pretend that this is a family call. Is this clear?"

"Aw geez Dad, what the hell happened now?" She instantly began, listening to him as she paused for a moment or two before continuing. "No, no. Why didn't you guys get that checked out sooner? ... No, I can't fly down right now, they need me here. I promise you, the doctors there are top notch, I interned under them after all!" Her brows furrowed and she cast a hand in the air as if exasperated with her father, which happened more often than not. All the while, she was listening to Ayden's words. "The man in that room with you is dangerous. If he finds out you are talking about him, he will most likely attempt to kill you. At the moment, all you need to do is stay calm. In a few minutes, I'm going to walk through the door, apprehend him, and begin driving back to Briggs to detain him. You've done a fine job, Second Lieutenant, but we'll take it from here. If this all goes to plan, I'll recommend a promotion to General Tsukino." So much for calling the proper authorities about this. "Now. I'm going to hang up. Say goodbye, tell me that "you hope mom is feeling better", and that you love me, before finally putting the phone down. Remember, Second Lieutenant Nikita. This man is dangerous." "Good, I'm glad to hear that you will. Take care Dad, I love you. I hope mom feels better ok? 'kay bye." She hung up then and sighed heavily, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

Blinking a couple of times, she ran a hand through her hair and smiled, tilting her head as she looked at her insane patient. "Sorry about that, family business. So where were we? Oh yes, why I became a doctor. I enjoy helping people. Whether its patching them up, or tearing them down, if it helps my country and the right people then I am happy. Though I wouldn't quite call my comrades dogs. Ok, so some of them can be, but most aren't." She mused, shrugging lightly as she chuckled at a couple of the mental images that cropped up in her mind. "So were you made a chimera against your will? Or did you choose to volunteer for the change?" Asking him such things was probably not smart, but she truly was not worried. Besides, if Ayden was right, then this should be over soon.

[Guest]

Randolph shifted a bit as the doctor's phone rang. Who would be calling her? Some of her military buddies more than likely. He continued to stare at her as she tried to play it off as a family call the entire time. The way she listened so carefully to the other person's words, her mannerisms, everything. This wasn't her father, but Randolph stayed calm to the extent of his ability to do so.

"Sorry about that, family business. So where were we?" Randolph shifted once more, tilting his head down slightly and examining his hands. He could make a move now if he so chose, if just to catch her off guard. "Oh yes, why I became a doctor. I enjoy helping people. Whether its patching them up, or tearing them down, if it helps my country and the right people then I am happy. Though I wouldn't quite call my comrades dogs. Ok, so some of them can be, but most aren't." It had to be soon. The clock was ticking, there probably wasn't much time now.

"So were you made a chimera against your will? Or did you choose to volunteer for the change?" Now.

"I would never volunteered for such a fate, Cora. I don't believe that any man would, not even someone as insane as you view me to be." He then chuckled as he slowly began to stand. The stitching felt in place, no pain. This was good. "My past life was lost, and I awoke born anew. My memory faded, and I was left as just a symbol of some alchemists work on this world!" He took a step forward. "A life was lost protecting me from those you fail to see as dogs! A young boy saw the humanity in that which had none remaining and threw his life away to make sure I could stand here today, doctor! Don't even begin to believe you know me or those men and women you call 'comrades'. THEY MAY NOT HAVE BUILT ME, BUT THEY SURE AS HELL MADE ME THE BEAST I AM TODAY."

Randolph then turned his attention and bolted for the door, entering the hallway. Escape was in his grasp. He could taste it. He could... who was this standing before him?

"You..."

[Guest]

Who was it?

Ayden Derocha. "You..."

"Me." He snarled in response. The pistol that had been hanging slack at his side slowly whipped up through the air. The cold metal of the barrel pressed straight against Randolph's forehead. A gloved finger up towards the assassin's smooth chin, drumming upon it slowly. "Ah-ah-ah..." Another slow chuckle. The shark had been boxed in. "Not so fast, chimera." A grim sneer stretched across the Major General's face. "You stay right where you are."

Slowly, he pressed forwards, indicating that Randolph should move with him as he stepped. "Somehow..." The cold metal against the glove made him smile and cock his head. "I can't help but get a sense of deja vu. As if we've been here before, you know?" A gentle pause, before a string of noise halfway between maniacal giggling and madman's cackles smashed through the near-silence in the front room of the inn. "Oh wait! Bahahaha! We have!" Ayden eased back the hammer with a resounding click. "The last time I so very almost splattered your brains all over the wall." The happy chatter quickly turned to a low growl. The assassin planted a hand on Randolph's shoulder, and spun him around, planting the muzzle of his pistol in his back, between his shoulder-blades.

All-too-quickly, the cocking of a nearby firearm alerted him. A shoddy-looking grizzled innkeeper clutching a lever-action twelve-gauge shotgun scowled down the ancient sights towards Ayden, and the soldier rose a free hand. "No need. I'm a man of the military. This individual is a high-class terrorist. I'm doing you a favour, sir." Silently, the innkeeper arched eyebrows and opened his mouth in surprise, before flushing white, nodding, and lowering the weapon. He wasn't going to risk going to war with a bulky, tall, and probably well-trained man, military or not. That had just been the icing on the cake.

Prodding the barrel of the M1911 into Randolph's back, Ayden walked the chimera through into the room he'd been held in. Where Second Lieutenant Nikita was located. With a smile and a brazen, gloved-hand salute, the Major General brightly smiled down towards her. "Excellent work containing the fugitive so far, Miss Nikita. It would appear he's injured, too." The assassin had noticed Randolph's slight limp. "I'll certainly be explaining your heroism and such to Lieutenant General Tsukino. Your assistance is appreciated, but from here on out, you don't worry. Return to your activities." A so grandly falsified scowl fell upon his hostage's neck as other patrons bustled through the doors and quickly sidled into cars. "I'll take care of this piece of terrorist scum, ensure he's returned to Briggs via appropriate protocol. Don't worry."

Slowly, a noise that was half-growl, half-sigh fell from his mouth. "I read Lieutenant General Aeries' report, Styxx," He spat the name. "About how you killed a child," False fury spilled from his gritted, bared teeth like spittle. "I'd get my revenge myself if I could, take you out to an underpass, and blow out both your kneecaps," The growls continued before fading into silence. Uneasy, tense, angry silence. "But," And it was a big but. "That isn't the way of an honourable, law-abiding man." A smile, teeth bared, faux, grand anger in its purest form materialising upon the assassin's face. He jabbed the pistol further into the small of Randolph's back. "So you get to rot in the Briggs keep until we decide whether or not to reinstate the death penalty for a child murderer."

With that, Ayden spun his hostage around, immediately clapping a set of handcuffs on, having long-since produced them from his pocket, clinking and jingling inside. He walked with the slow, meticulous care of an officer of the military; but with the coursing, radiating anger of a humane man, prodding and jabbing Randolph with the muzzle of his pistol, grunting angrily, his footsteps heavy-set, grappling the man and holding him by his collar in a manner which looked noticeably uncomfortable. From the shaken men and women outside that remained, taking cover, they all watched over apprehensively. Now it was time to score a few more bonus points, sell the disguise again. "It's alright, ladies and gentlemen!" The assassin said, smiling his greatest off into the clamour outside. "I am a military officer, and rest safe tonight knowing this criminal will be brought to justice!"

A slow round of applause filled Ayden's ears as he bundled Randolph into the front seat of his car. Nobody arched eyebrows at a clear breach of procedure. To the masses, the assassin was well allowed to do whatever he wanted with a captive terrorist of this tier. He was scum, and the silver-haired man's heroism was the greatest they'd seen in some time. Shutting the car door and sidling around, raising a hand as the applause rose in pace, speed, and volume, the murderer chuckled, slipping into the car and revving the engine. Belief. The sweetest of any poisons. A bed of applause served as the assassin's starting block as the Audi sped off into the sunlit horizon and the General looked to his "captive".

"What do you think?" Ayden smiled with a low giggle escaping from his mouth, easing back the hammer and sheathing his pistol, still not having forgotten the threat Randolph presented, cuffed or not. "I put on a good enough performance?!" Hopefully, the chimera would soon catch on. He wasn't going to prison. He wasn't going to Briggs. No. He had an acquaintance who had paid very good money for his extraction. And even if this was an unusual job, who better suited for the task than the assassin? History with Styxx... and a record of completing nigh-on every job. The perfect candidate.

[Guest]

Cora could sense the shift in the air and it concerned her a bit. She knew violence was about to go down, and she was at the focal point of it. "I would never volunteered for such a fate, Cora. I don't believe that any man would, not even someone as insane as you view me to be." An answer that would be expected of someone who had been forced into this life. Though she couldn't help but wonder who these rogue groups were that always seemed to find people and experiment upon them for their own gain. He was standing, this wasn't good. "My past life was lost, and I awoke born anew. My memory faded, and I was left as just a symbol of some alchemists work on this world!" Cause of mental instability. Lots of rage, anger at his creator... Oh boy, he was just a regular melting pot of reasons for his insanity, wasn't he?

She did not move even as he stepped closer, remaining quite comfortably in her chair as she watched him. She was already thinking of what she could do should he attempt to attack her, how she might want to respond. "A life was lost protecting me from those you fail to see as dogs! A young boy saw the humanity in that which had none remaining and threw his life away to make sure I could stand here today, doctor! Don't even begin to believe you know me or those men and women you call 'comrades'. THEY MAY NOT HAVE BUILT ME, BUT THEY SURE AS HELL MADE ME THE BEAST I AM TODAY." Even as he bolted for the door, she only sighed and brought her hand up to her face, shaking her head slowly. "I swear Amestris needs to look into these facilities more so we DON'T have as many maniac's about." She murmured softly to herself, pushing herself up and double checking the room behind her for any of her things.

Cracking her neck, she sighed lightly and glanced towards the bathroom, deciding she may as well take a shower while she was here. Closing the door quietly, she turned on the water and hummed softly to herself, deciding to remain outside of the events that were going to take place.

[EXIT THREAD]

[Guest]

Everything was a blur to Randolph. The same gun against his head as before, Ayden talking some sort of garbage, then being handcuffed. It was like all he could do was snicker and chuckle all the while. He couldn't hear, he couldn't think, he could only laugh. The laughter was pressing against his chest, and coming forth like bile between the chimera's teeth.

"It's alright, ladies and gentlemen!" Ayden yelled to the crowd as he walked Randolph outside. He didn't stop there though, no. The blue-eyed fool continued to make a show of this. "I am a military officer, and rest safe tonight knowing this criminal will be brought to justice!"

Justice? This was justice? Randolph's laughter continued as he was shoved into the car. A single tear fell into the seat as he was forced down. This was no justice, not for the chimera, not for the one who had his humanity stripped from him. This was simply pitiful.

The passenger door slammed, a faint crunching of snow below the still bellowing cheers of the civilians outside, and then the opposite door opening. A slam, and then the car's engine roared before settling to a soft hum as it began to back out. Just as he was about to close his eyes and try to just forget about all of this though, Ayden's words rang forth once more.

"What do you think?" Randolph lifted his head only to see Ayden smiling, his own maniacal giggles coming forth. "I put on a good enough performance?!"

"Performance...?" Realization struck, and Randolph's eyes opened wider as Ayden's laughter grew. "YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKER." Ayden continued to cackle as Randolph flailed around in his seat throwing expletives left and right. The chimera soon calmed down though, but only to release laughter of his own.

"Well, if I'm not getting locked up, where the hell are you taking me, Derocha?" Wiping his chin with his shoulder, Randolph leaned his head back and continued to giggle quietly. This certainly changed things a bit. He only hoped that Ayden hadn't seen that last shred of emotion pour from his eye earlier. Even so, that would be the last time he shed anything for anyone. This was the beginning of something new, and driving into the darkness only proved it more. Randolph Styxx was going to live, and no one would stop him from reaching his goal.

[Guest]

The man's lithe frame served only to deftly keep the car sweeping further down the streets of North City as the pair rocked back and forwards cackling, Randolph's a touch more violent, handcuffs clinking against each other as he howled with laughter. "YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKER." A grin slowly slipped onto his face. It seemed Styxx... it seemed he had an adequate sense of humour after all!

"Bahaha! So you enjoyed it, then!?" That same sweeping grin as the maniacal assassin looked from the chimera to the road and back again, confident enough on his driving skills as the noise inside the car slowly levelled once more. The alchemist drummed his gloved fingers against the steering wheel. "Your lucky day, chimera." Something wild flashed in those azure eyes, evident enough in the rear-view mirror. "I guess... I guess you can tell that you're not going to be hauled off to jail." It seemed the pair of them had pulled it off with aplomb - and a crowd full of reliable witnesses there, too, to boot.

"Well, if I'm not getting locked up, where the hell are you taking me, Derocha?" Ayden knew the answer... the drop-off point's co-ordinates had long-since been affixed as a high-priority item in the very front of his mind. But where he was taking Randolph was one thing... where the chimera was going? Entirely another altogether.

The car swerved around another corner. Barren, snow-capped flat plainsland in the distance gave way to a white-speckled treeline. The car rocked from side to side as he shifted onto a slightly more... rugged path, the ambience of cars zooming past soothingly and reassuringly distant. "About a mile and a half in the distance, through those trees, is an abandoned airstrip." Ayden yanked the handbrake up and the car drew to an abrupt halt, just about level with the thick, northern Amestrian snow coating the flat, white-capped land the assassin gestured to. One of the harsher and less-temperate points of the country, this rather picturesque view of a landscape, snowflakes gently drifting down to join the masses below, almost an ideal definition for the aurrounding area. "The military stopped using it in the mid-forties. No-one ever visits. It's surrounded by fence grates and razor wire."

The assassin's face contorted into an expression of only determination as he reached over Randolph's cuffed hands and opened the glove-compartment. Various assorted boxes of ammunition and clips sat within, and above them, a pair of brand-new bolt cutters. Grasping them and opening them, he spoke once more. "In no less than eighteen minutes, a plane will land upon this airstrip and leave in another three." Swapping the bolt cutters into his other hand, Ayden took an unloaded pistol from the glove compartment and pushed it into the chimera's hand, bending his fingers around it and issuing a warning. "If you want to survive past the next hour and make it out of North City other than in a body bag or an orange jumpsuit, you'll do what I say." Pressing down on Randolph's hand, he removed the pistol and set it down on the dashboard, well out of the chimera's reach - even without a clip, he presumed the man was dangerous enough from their last encounter with any form of melee weapon.

"Now," Ayden grabbed the bolt cutters again, and moved them over to the chain linking the two cuffs over Randolph's arm, hovering the prongs in place before crunching the handles together. A clean snap, and the cuffs broke, small chain links drifting out onto the leather seat. "You're going to open the door, take the bolt cutters, and run." The assassin snarled. Here was the part he didn't like. The part that made it look realistic. The part where he had to admit at least some defeat to make it look like the chimera had escaped of his own free will, as opposed to it being orchestrated. As if this was nothing more than error, unluckiness, and harsh misjudgement of his subject. "But first, you're going to punch me in the face."

Ayden turned his cheek towards him. "The impact will have supposedly served to dazzle me whilst you split open the handcuffs using your chimera strength, grabbed the pistol, the bolt cutters, and immediately dove away." The assassin smiled off into the distance. "I'll take care of the gun, so you don't have to worry, there. It already has your fingerprints. And, Styxx, please keep in mind that I will see you again if I so want to, and if you make this punch any harder than it should be, I'll very much return the favour next time." Honey-soaked tones laden with thick, venomous poison. "As for where the plane goes..." The murderer smirked, looking straight ahead, one hand on the empty pistol and another on the steering column. "Creta. You'll be landing outside London in a few hours. My client will be waiting for you. He insisted that you arrived alive and unharmed." A slow, dry chuckle escaped from the silver-haired joker's lips. "And to send his regards."

Victor Dresden was a well-known name in Creta. One that most with reason to actively feared. But he didn't think the petty chimera would know of it. Not with all his talk of principles and colours from their previous encounter. "Now punch me, get it over with, and run." The assassin grinned. "Sixteen minutes, Mr. Styxx. Tick tock."

[Guest]

Randolph gave a deep sigh as the handcuffs were snapped apart and twisted his wrists around. Ayden really knew how to make things look real, alright. Those were clamped pretty damn tight. He listened carefully though as he began telling him the information he needed. Airstrip, mile and a half, barbed wire, eighteen minutes. Huh, that seemed like a good amount of time, but Randolph couldn't waste any of it.

The next part caught him off guard a bit. Ayden wanted Randolph to... punch him? This was definitely new. Had the man gone absolutely bonkers? Or... at least more so than usual? Pretending to detain him, turning out to be a rescue mission, a plane to Creta, and now a free punch? Things were looking up after all. Rearing his fist back, Randolph whispered kindly, "May want to loosen up your face a bit."

Giving a swing, he then stopped before the inevitable impact giving only a slight tap to the Alchemists' face. As he turned, a stupefied expression all over, Randolph just grinned ear to ear. "I said loosen up, Derocha."

With the speed he would use to strike at his usual prey, the chimera's fist flew like a bullet right into the man's nose. Didn't want to leave him eating through a straw, but like he said... it had to look real. Grabbing the pliers, Randolph slung open his door, gave a playful wave and ran for it. Ayden was going to be pissed to all hell, but that wasn't his problem. He had seventeen minutes to make it now.

Hauling ass through what seemed to be the soul barren patch of snow in this billowing snowstorm cluttered with trees called North Amestris, Randolph could feel the snow and cold air biting into his face. It was almost like swimming through a lake of piranha. That thought coming to his mind, he could only laugh, and the laughter grew, echoing out into the night.

Soon enough he had found the barbed wire fencing Ayden had told him about, and the plane was there... just like Ayden had told him about. Except for the fact that it was a bit too early. Fumbling with the pliers, Randolph quickly attempted to make work of the wires. Within seconds he had a hole he could almost fit through, but a sound caught his ears. The plane's engines were starting.

"Fucking great." Randolph hissed, pocketing the pliers into his jacket and diving through the opening he had made. He felt the barbs cut into his clothing, but he ignored it. This was no time to worry about little cuts. This was life or death, right here in this moment.

Running, the chimera tried to build up as much strength as possible into his legs. His muscles began to sting and ache, but once Randolph was near the plane he gave a quick crouch and leaped. He felt the inner flooring of the cargo hold for but a second before he began slipping. Giving a shout, a hand then grabbed his wrist.

"Sharks... don't jump... heheh..."

EXIT THREAD

[Guest]

The hand smashed into his face with the force of a train. Instead of appearing dazzled, Randolph had left him actually stunned, reeling back and forth as he reoriented the world around him, dizziness toying with his periphery beyond its usual state. It only took him moments to recover, his endurance just as seasoned as his strength, but no anger swelled within. He'd given the man a free opportunity, and he'd milked it. Ayden couldn't blame him for that. He could only get him back next time.

A grin stretched onto his face, the assassin watching through a tinted windscreen as the tiny frame of the man on the horizon disappeared into the forest, slaloming through. That was one loose end tied up. Blood trickled from one nostril, and gingerly the assassin dabbed at it. Pain shot through the surrounding area, and Ayden simply ignored it, continuing to push and nudge until, finally, he could confirm that it wasn't broken. The chimera was lucky. Eye for an eye, after all. The assassin had tortured people for broken noses before. Hell, he'd tortured people for stepping on his toes. And he still would. At least it looked real.

With a smile, red trickling down onto black and leaving thin trails as it continued, Ayden opened the car from his side and drew the gun from the dashboard, fetching a clip from his pocket with a grin. "SO LONG, RANDOLPH!" He howled. Only warehouses and empty space for at least a mile around in every direction. "ENJOY CRETA!" Blood spattered against the floor as his smile stretched further and he aimed over the bonnet of his car, careful not to step into the snow and leave footprints, before pulling the trigger three times. Crack. Crack. Crack. The rounds smashed into the wall on the opposite side of the car, digging moderate holes and leaving three cartridge casings to burn through the ice that clung to the road beneath his feet with such affection. These would have been "scare" shots, in order to have supposedly kept the assassin in his car for fear of death. In truth, of course, the man didn't fear such menial or mundane things. He was due greater sins and larger truths. Being enlightened as he was, he knew that death came not for him yet, and it came not in that chimera's fragile, pitiful form. Oh, no, his death was the grand crescendo in an unwritten symphony that was not for years yet.

Ayden didn't think this; he knew it. The casings burnt holes in the snow, before the assassin spun around, drew back his arm, and threw the pistol in an impressive arc off into the distance, sighing. No more frame-up jobs. Too much effort. Too awkward. Too many variables. Killing was so much more simple! And fun, too. Here he'd just had pain, simple as it was... "You made me bleed, Styxx..." The silver-haired General turned around and stared off into the shuffling treeline with a smile, blood trickling down through his lips and over his teeth, still welling like a fountain from his bruised nose. Red liquid on white skin. "Next time... you can be sure I'll return the favour." Came the sadistic growl, his face contorting into somewhere between a sneer and a snarl, before his hand ducked back down into his pocket, drawing out a Motorola flip-phone, and snapping it open, tapping the call-button for a pre-saved number already raised.

"Hello!?" Ayden cried frantically into the phone, a grin on his face and perfect, complex falsity in his words, utterly believable. "My name... my name is Major General Ayden Derocha! I'm just off the highway on the east side of North City. I was using a back-road to transport a fugitive back to Fort Briggs when he broke out of his handcuffs, stole a gun, and punched me in the nose." He shouted matter-of-factly. "The fucker made me bleed. I'm by the old Chemical Dynamics warehouse. Get a search party, sniffers and forensics out here now, or there are going to be MURDERS." With that done, the assassin snapped the phone shut, tucked it back into his pocket, and sidled back into his car, shutting both doors from within, and easing the handbrake back down with a smile.

Not his favourite, but certainly an entertaining activity to finish off the day. As the sleek, black Audi, a vehicle of the night, backed out of the pathway and turned around, the assassin contemplated whether he'd done what was right today, the engine thrumming gently beneath the great beast's deep black hide, wiping the last of the blood from his face and chin with a tissue before screwing it up and tossing it into the back of the car.

A smile as the car didn't move, simply hissing and vibrating with energy. He hadn't done what was right, no. Not in a moral sense, at least. But morals were for fools. One hand on the steering wheel and one foot on the accelerator, he slowly drifted back onto the frozen back-country pathway and hummed gently along until he returned to the main sector of the highway, passing the search team, sirens wailing as they screamed past in their land rovers and patrol cars, before finally heading straight back to Briggs.

He hadn't done what was right. But if he could turn back time, would he do it again? The money? The harbouring a fugitive? The lies to a co-worker, and a friend? A grin of no quality other than pure, unchained evil slipped onto the murderer's face.

If he could turn back time... there was no doubt about it.

He'd definitely do it again.

[EXIT THREAD]

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