Misty

Ecaterina was having what in her mind could be called a no good very bad day. Even after she'd been given the pill containing the knowledge in a moment all too matrixy for her to feel comfortable she'd only been left with more questions and they hadn't had time to waste. Before she could even protest or put her foot down further, she was being pushed into a copter and they were flying somewhere with Meera.

When they'd pushed her to go flying down towards the whitehouse, Ecaterina had decided that no matter what happened at this point, she hated each and every single person who was doing this to her. And she was going to find someway somehow to make them pay for it even if it meant getting her hands dirty. This feeling of intense hatred was present upon her face as the undead monstrosity separated her from Marut, the only one who she felt any kinship to and ok, having an undead giant threatening your life also had her a bit irritated.

It was as if there were some God-like story telling figure that was both uncaring and uninterested in her pulling all the strings to continue some mad dash towards some madder conclusion. Well, Ecaterina wasn't happy to be fate's pawn in all this.  She glanced at the separate islands and the beast and made the split second decision that clearly the safest place to be was on the undead monster and with that in mind the gypsy girl took a running start and lunged off her island to land on the undead creature's rather formidable leg where she hung on for dear life.  Why in the hell had they done this to her? She wasn't trained in magic? She didn't even know what to do with anything more frightening than a knife mugger.   And now she was gripping onto the upper thigh of some large zombie monster.  

Ecaterina had made it several steps her mind already racing with where to go.  She could hear people behind her starting to step in on Minerva Fairchild, but Ecaterina was a woman of opinions and one of those was that it is entirely foolish and stupid to surround yourself with people claiming to fight for the common good who won't step in when one of their members is behaving in a tyrannical and dangerous fashion.   Perhaps it wasn't exactly a fair standard of judgement, after all, Ecaterina had come up in the Gypsy community and they cared for each other no matter the money or the blood ties.  Old fed the young who couldn't, and the young fed the old who couldn't.   And the other street dwellers did their best not to raise a hand to any of the gypsy community for fear it would bring the wrath of all the others.  

Still, Attano had known of this, and he'd sworn several things to her which were right this moment very apparently lies.   She'd enjoyed college very much, and she knew she couldn't belong in America happily.  That meant finding an airport, which meant walking.  She supposed if she followed the road, she would reach a town or city at somepoint.  The only problem she could really conceive of was a lack of water and food, which for her money could be considered business as usual. 

Still, there was no point carrying all these heavy books, she wouldn't be needing them anymore.  That was the reason she stopped and began pulling out books on diplomacy and foreign policy and plopping them on the ground.  It was then that Minerva started in at Ecaterina again shouting after her.    A boy stepped in saying enough, he was sort of cute in Ecaterina's mind, but that wasn't significant at this moment.  She was leaving.  She zipped her pack shut planning to get her suitcase from where she'd left it and replace the books with useful items. 

It was then that she heard Marut, it wasn't unexpected.  If Ecaterina was going to be treated as a second class citizen then almost certainly Marut would as well.   They stood out compared to the rest of this bunch of well-to dos with their delusions of grandeur.   And then he approached her asking her in Romanian about his dance.  She straightened up pulling her pack to her shoulders.  She smiled vibrantly at him, not only because he'd supported her position, but also because when she looked at him she didn't feel scorned for what she was, but appreciated all the more for it.

"No, your dance isn't cancelled.  I meant that of all the people I've met, I've only had expectations on a few, and of those few, he is the only one to have ever disappointed me in a way that mattered.   I don't know you too well yet, but I suspect after our dance I will."  She smiled at him again, "Now, I have just one more thing to say to the tyrants, it would be a pleasure if you joined me on the road."

And with that she was striding back towards Minerva, her movements graceful and her posture upright and proud.   She glanced at Gideon, it was thankful although somehow unimpressed.

"Not Enough.   When a person of small means behaves badly, few suffer.   When a person of power behaves badly, a person intent on gaining more even, it is a cause for concern worth everyone taking up especially those who would paint themselves the watch of the world."

Her gaze turned to Minerva then, " I dare. In other worlds you may be some important daughter with a father run amok, but right here, right now, you will own who you are to me and the actions you took.   You were a ruthless tyrant, devoid of empathy for a person whos life you do not know, but felt fit to threaten at swordpoint because she demanded the truth of people who pulled her from her life.  You threatened me while  I stood defensless.  Maybe those are acts of bravery in the wizard world, but right here, in the world of the plebians, that is the act of a coward and a tyrant."

She paused her gaze casting judgement upon all that had stood by and especially Minerva, "My people have been standing up to people like you as surely as the wind blows and the blood pumps in my veins.   I am not walking away because I am afraid, I am walking away because there are better people than all of you to stand with and if I were to face impossible odds and death, I would rather die besides men and women I believed were the good guys, not the otherside of a dirty coin used to pay for the blood and suffering of those less powerful.  Maybe you haven't heard this while you were learning to threaten the defenseless, but how you do something is just as important as the task to be accomplished.  Maybe your purposes are noble, I couldn't care less, because you behave in a despicable way." Her gaze turned out to the others who hadn't spoken up or didn't address the issue, "And to each of you that stood by while she did that and had the power to speak out or stop her, shame on your houses."   Her tone had remained even and seemingly icy the entire time, it was a tone of final judgement.  

She moved to pick up her card stuffing it into the pocket of her skirt with all the others before she moved to return to Marut.  

Ecaterina had been coughing for the last several moments and reached to cover her mouth and wipe away the blood that she'd brought up there, now was not time for such an obvious sign of weakness. Her eyes flashed at the girl holding her at sword point, and perhaps surprisingly for each person there, she maintained some pretense of control, although the intensity of her expression and voice was unwavering, and somehow....unimpressed by the display of the other girl.

When the girl turned her back on her Ecaterina held herself for a moment, finding the calm center she'd always kept when things got truly and totally awful. Her fists clenched and she looked down straightening up as the coughing fit passed her.

“I have no family left, actually. My father died in war, and his parents and daughter were forgotten by the very people he had given freedom to. There is no one on this world I care for.” It wasn't a totally truth-filled statement, if she were being totally honest with herself and the world, half the reason she was so angry was that she felt betrayed by Attano, but that was such esoteric information it didn't even make it into her tone.

“You hold a sword to me, tell me that I will serve as a pawn for my very survival. I was wrong to say pawn...I should have said slave. Because somebody with more power who holds a sword up to another that is beneath them isn't a hero, they aren't the good guy, they are a tyrant...at best they are a well-intentioned tyrant.”

Her voice didn't hold any venom in it, only simple pity and dismissal, “you held a sword up to me, you showed me your power, and then lectured me about fear and tyrants. Does your own irony crush you as much as it amuses me?” Her tone almost had a dancing quality to it, but anyone watching could see she was only warming up. "Did you feel brave and strong?  Did threatening me take away the terror you feel deep in your heart?"  She paused as if waiting for a answer, but it was calculated.  

“the Roma people, are stronger, braver, and better equipped to deal with tyrants than any of the people in this room save for him,” she pointed at Marut, “We are a survivor people, you speak of lashes, I've seen and felt things your pampered arrogant little world probably invented. Not one of my people would lose their freedom to anyone, because we do not define it by the pleasures society grants to others. We aren't so brave and righteous to threaten the weak and helpless, unlike yourself.  No wonder they chose you, you are ruthless, intolerant, quick to act, terrified, and without a heart.  I am certain you will make a fine pawn for them.”

Ecaterina continued to stare at the back of her head, “I am not so weak that I would hold a blade to a girl coughing blood simply because she demanded to be treated as if she has some say in her life. To hell with you and your mission, if this is what the good guys look like, I would like to see the bad guys, at least they might not lecture me that what they are doing is for any purpose other than that which is self-serving.” Ecaterina turned to leave and the halted in her steps turning again.

“And if your Order is so good at keeping peace, how did these people get so powerful in the first place? And if your Order's hold on this world can be so easily toppled to the point you must rely on children, then perhaps your order deserves to fall.  It seems to me that if you win your little power struggle, you might wish to look into that. Not that I care, so long as there are roads for me to walk on, I shall always have a place in this world. If one of you sees Attano, tell him he is the only one to ever have disappointed me in my life.”

With that, Ecaterina dug into her pocket shuffling through the cards she'd brought with her and then with the practiced ease of someone who'd spent many long nights practicing, flicked the justice card at the back of Fairchild's head. It landed on the ground and Ecaterina spoke again, “It is reversed.” With that she turned moving past the others, lifting the backpack she'd dropped up, and moving to leave.

When no one had answered Ecaterina, apparently due to enjoying their nectar too much, she’d grown understandably frustrated and eventually returned to her seat in a horrible, horrible mood.  It was impressive the darkness she could project with simply the tilt of her lips and the ebony pools of her eyes.  It was a look that both embodied oblivion and projected it outwards to others. 

While the others drank and made merry, Ecaterina stayed away from them. At first glance it seemed unusual for a gypsy to turn down frivolity or joyous celebration, but Ecaterina was no dupe or Persephone as some of the boys in her city had called the girls that drank or ate of their food.   She sat down in her chair, dug in her pack until she produced a set of Tarot cards, and began the process of telling her fortune.   She liked superstition, but now superstition looked an awful lot like it might be closer to the truth than anything else.  As she turned the cards over, she grew more anxious and irritated, the fortune was cloudy, but it didn’t point anywhere good.  And after several turnings and movements she had to pull out her inhaler and lean forward. 

She’d decided then and there to stay awake all night if she must.  And in service to that she decided the best thing to do would be to study for the inevitable moment when this insanity comes to an end.   For hours she poured over notes and studies of diplomacy, until finally dinner was being set before her.  She looked up at the man holding the tray and spoke in slow deliberate English, “I will not be mesmerized or taken from my right mind but your wicked tricks.  Turn around with that food, and give it to one of the fools over there.”  The person looked both surprised and bewildered and when he moved to set it down on top of the tarot reading she’d left there, she stood up her eyes looking fierce and very frightened, “I said I didn’t want it and to give to those fools, now take it away.” 

He left her then shaking his head and she turned pulling the clothing she’d made for herself in service to the old ways and felt it might be time to prepare to return to them.  She went into the bathroom and changed into the long skirt and the loose shirt that revealed shoulders while covering her slender stomach.

She returned then sitting in her seat, no longer interested in studying and feeling not for the first time in her life alienated and alone.   She watched the others fall asleep and briefly entertained going through their things, but in the end she didn’t, and it wasn’t long before she was being woken and informed that they were landing. 

As they approached the barn, Ecaterina kept looking left and right her terror so abject that even the strange looks she received for her garb didn’t catch her.   She glanced about at the gathered her eyes searching for Attano.  The red-headed woman had mentioned him, and Ecaterina had been awake long enough into the night to figure out that he knew something about this. 

When they’d finally sat down in the hay and been told to make themselves comfortable, Ecaterina deliberately did not.   She looked at the others, and immediately stalked off away from them walking as far as possible to stay barely in view while turning herself into a blob.  The moment she was that far out, she dropped her pack and set about re-covering the tattoo which had begun to become visible as the make-up wore away.  

When she finished that, she did what she usually did when she didn’t want to study – danced.  It was a simple dance, but it’d been so long since she’d danced on dirt and grass that it was calming to her.   She could see in the distance other people arriving and slowly she stalked back feeling imprisoned by whoever the hell these people were. 

Ecaterina listened silently to what was being said.   And the only thought in her head was that either these people were crazy, or they were telling the truth, but no matter what, WTF was all that ran through her head.   And that was answered when the pictures sprung from the ground. 

Ecaterina looked at the others around her, she felt no kinship to any of them, even though several surely shared her position.   She’d told herself not call attention to herself and to leave the moment eyes stopped being on her, but curiosity and impulsiveness took over her nature as usual.

She moved forward in slow graceful steps her temper mounting with each movement until she was standing in the picture. “Who the fuck are you to tell us what we are?  What in the hell is the Order of Hermes?  What is this shit about magic and the illusions you create?  I’m a conscript in no one’s fucking war and I’m certainly no soldier.  And you can take your molding and training and shove it up your ass, I’m no one’s pawn or sculpture.”

She moved to stand her arms folded, with her tattoo hand purposefully tucked into her armpit as if to hide it even more.   She was glaring at him, it would have been absurd and funny if it wasn’t so clear she meant it.  She turned looking at the others gathered. 

“I can’t believe you people buy this shit.  Do they not have lunatics and snatchers in your countries?  Christ.”   She turned back to the man her arms still folded as she leered at him, “You better do several things right now.  Number one, what in the hell is going on with this magic stuff?  I’m done with your red-headed cow’s mysterious shit.  You took me from my life. Yes, ok, it was a small and pathetic little existence compared to this world changing shit you are trying to sell these inbred morons, but I liked that life decently. And don’t try to hand me your fairy nectar and make me calm down either.  I want answers and I want them before your little cult thinks it is appropriate to answer them.” She was shouting, and from the way she was beginning to wheeze, it seemed unlikely she would keep it up. 

“Two, what in the hell does joining your little gang involve and want are the benefits to us. And don’t say changing the course of human history, I’m a fucking gypsy, you assholes haven’t let us be part of humanity for fucking centuries.  Now that you’ve got a war on suddenly we don’t have the plague anymore is that it?   I don’t want a part of your bloody world if all you are offering is glory and honor.  Glory and honor are the tools smart people use to take advantage of stupid sheep.  I’m a human being god dammit and I demand that you start acknowledging my rights more often than when it suits your little agenda.”  She said this in such a loud breathe and was beginning to cough towards the end of it in between her words, but she didn’t look ready to acknowledge the barrier. 

“And third, where in the hell is Attano. I’m going to kill Attano, you bring me Attano and I am going to strangle him with these two hands and choke him with his own necklace.”  She barely got all of this out when a coughing fit took her that reduced her to leaning over scrambling for the inhaler she’d stuck in her bra and breathing in as much as was possible.   It was slightly comedic, except for the fact that she was attempting to remain standing, even while she looked awfully close to toppling right on over.

Darkness, complete loss of the visual senses, Sephtis could hear the shallow breathing of Bethany, or Belle, or Anna, whatever her name was. He hadn't been drunk, he just didn't care, which in a lot of minds would be a far worse crime. He reached out anyway, his hand finding her head and the short bob of hair there. Although he'd already deduced it was Anna, he was bored, and he let it continue downwards to find the slim stomach and small breasts that went with Anna. It made better sense now, her arm was across his chest and her hand was resting against one of his scars. Anna liked the scars, the others found them ugly although they'd never said so.

He pushed the arm off himself, although he was a might more tender with it than he would have been if it were Bethany or Belle. He must have wanted someone to be tender with him, and Anna for all her rough and tumble nature was tender with him. She didn't expect a military hyper-man.

He cleared a patch of Anna's floor with his foot and lay down to do his morning situps and then pushups. Anna woke up around the time he was almost done with the pushups. She switched the light on to watch the Roman Eagle on his back, intense, as if about to fly off his back as his torso moved up and down in quick succession.

He must have been aware of her, but she knew not to interrupt him when he looked this focused. When he finally stopped bobbing up and down and turned to look at her she gave him a thin little smile and he returned it with a raised eyebrow and grin before he stood up to start pulling back on his dress uniform.

“You're leaving already?”

He didn't freeze his dressing, just continued working while paying attention to the buttons as he spoke.

“I'm supposed to be test piloting again today and I smell like four bars, a carton of cigarettes, a whole lot of sweat, and one beautiful woman.”

Anna let out a strained and angry laugh.

“You're such an asshole, Hadrian. You show up here for a tumble and don't even stay to see how I am. You've been doing this for years but you won't ask me out for a proper date or even think to pretend I'm important to you. You could at least ask how my life is, even if I'm not some big fancy test pilot.”

Sephtis had finished buttoning his shirt by that point and was now standing to tuck in his shirt and pull his pants on. He did this in such a slow deliberate fashion that it seemed as if he were ignoring her, although in truth he was watching her from the corner of his eyes.

She'd begun to cry and was doing her best to hide it. This was the problem with Anna, she expected something of him that the other women he could have gone to did not. Was it because she was a bit older or was there something about women with short hair and a lack of the same assets of other women that made them desire his love and attention?

He made as if to leave her crying silently there, tucking his wallet, cigarettes, and lighter into his pocket, he'd reached the door and her crying had grown louder, childishly so and then he turned moving back toward her and sitting down. With a careful hand he pushed aside the tears there, put a cigarette between her lips, and lit it for her. “How are you, Anna?”

She slapped him. He'd been expecting it, but he let her have the smack anyway. At least the tears were coming slower and the cigarette seemed to be helping slightly as she calmed. “You're such an asshole, Sephtis. Did you get that from your father?” He stiffened. Slaps were one thing, but Anna knew she was on thin ice with a comment like that. He reached to grip her face so she would have to stare at him while he spoke.

“No one makes you open your door to me, a man who's attention you so desperately desire and then when you have it you want it for childish things like questions about your life. The women I ask out on dates, I don't respect because I'm assuming they like their fantasies that they are going to change me. I don't do that to you, because I actually sorta like you and know that no matter how delusional you get at five in the morning, you know you aren't changing anything. Now it is fine to hit me, it is fine to shout general profanity at me, but the attack about my father was below the belt.”

He let go of her face then, planted a chilling kiss on her cheek and stood up to leave shutting the light off as he went. From the darkness behind him, he heard her voice, “Sephtis, I'm sorry.” He shut the door on her, knowing that she was going to laugh until she cried. He'd seen her do it over other men, after all.

When the alarm went up, Sephtis had been studying at his desk. He'd gotten to the compound and been showered and changed into a clean uniform with his pilot's gear on underneath around six. He wasn't supposed to go on duty for awhile, and deep study of tactics proved the best method to deal with his problems.

A young woman came running into the room, saluted quickly, “Sir, the Console just picked up a signal from a command unit. We have no ongoing missions, sir.” Sephtis was up the moment she said command unit. He knew there were no ongoing missions. He strode alongside her his hands in his pockets.

When they reached the others he got the report from Septus, glad to see they were already addressing matters, he turned things back over to them, “Await the orders of an officer, but you did well to mobilize the forces, Mr. Sephtis.” With that he was striding again, making his way to the hangar. As he went he was giving orders, “Have Prometheus made ready at once. I want it launch ready in the next fifteen minutes.”

He reached the changing room and stripped away the nice uniform in favour of his pilot uniform, a rather skin tight neuro suit that was capable of helping sustain even an injured pilot for weeks as well as being able to deliver shocks to the heart. The suit he'd nicknamed “the womb” for its ability to sustain life. He strode from the changing room and was soon strapping himself into Prometheus.

After the synch sequence checked out, he was off and running out of the hangar and then dead dropping for a moment before he activated the thrusters. Prometheus was the fasted heavy valk on the force, it had to be to be able to sustain the sword fighting of its pilot and the heavy armour he wanted. It was the best valk he'd ever piloted and he'd test piloted every suit in the last decade.

When he landed in the hangar it made a loud noise and technicians rushed to get it plugged in while keeping it ready for launch. Sephtis climbed from it easily sliding down the side as if he'd been born a pilot. He strode forward in his pilot's uniform that displayed the Lt. Colonel rank. He nodded to each of the people there, especially the one in a suit, “Lt. Colonel Mendoza, you look lovely and dangerous as always.” With that he leaned against the wall pulling his hair up out of his face to reveal the piercing on his ear.

I are going to keep an eye on this one fo sho. 

Ecaterina had gone along with everything quietly, not exactly out of fear, but there was a healthy portion of that in there…still every action was met with a slight amount of resistance.  Even when Meera neared her with a bandage and medicine she’d glared at her with a look of total mistrust and kept her arm away until Meera had simply grabbed it and bandaged it while receiving a look from Ecaterina that reminded her of an untrusting cat. 

When she said adoptive father, Ecaterina’s eyes flared, but having remembered the still unsettling sight of the vines reaching for her she only muttered to herself in Romanian, “My father was a goddamn hero of the revolution and he died for it.  That man will never be like my father, he isn’t even my uncle although I understand for political reasons why he put that down.”  

She’d grabbed her things in the most sullen manner possible and when they’d boarded the plane and been handed the fizzy liquid Ecaterina looked at it like poison although she did drink it simply out of pressure.  It tasted like French wine to her.   She could still remember her first taste.

He’d let her into the apartment he’d secured for them.  She was still dressed in a t-shirt that was too small for her and pants that did not match.  It had been all the hospital had.   He hadn’t touched her at all, a warning he heeded wisely from the people working the ward.   He’d given her new clothing, told her to bathe and then come to dinner. 

She’d done all of it without really making a sound.  Including the dinner part.  He’d tried to talk to her, but the blank stares or glares he’d received quickly reduced the dinner to a staring match that she’d won when he got up only to return holding the scarf that now adorned her hair – her father’s scarf. 

She could recall snatching it from him and smelling it as he poured the wine and then pushed it towards her.  She’d laughed for the first time in years and toasted to changes.  He’d helped her tie her hair up with the scarf.  

It calmed her slightly, just as the wine then had.  She cheered sarcastically as her eyes caught that they were going to America.  Her eyes widened and she turned to look at Meera, “What about Attano?   He was supposed to tell me about this?  What the fuck is going on?” Her eyes turned towards Marut, “Does the existence of magic really surprise no one else besides me?” 

She hadn’t realized that her hands were shaking again or that she felt angry, “What the hell is going on?  Stop dancing around this? Who is the Thoth Covenant?  What is Quaesitor?  And if this bitch can produce thorns from her arm what else is possible?”

Less self-praise more post. 

We need more lycan scum executions! 

Woa woa woa, you finally decided to join batoto?!

 

I believe so, I'm not sure if pitou or mors said anything about a limit but I believe you'll be able to.

Yeah, been holding off.  But I'm finally sick of things over yonder.  I want to be in an active rp at somepoint before the next Ice age. 

@Misty - You only post in the Info cache when your CS is completed and approved by Pitou and Mors.

lol

Yeah, was an accident.  I had the info cache and occ open and in my haste to leave I posted to the wrong one. 

Still, I updated it there to a full CS with backstory.  I can totally change anything that needs to be changed.  <3

Thanks, I'd been holding off out of some ridiculous sense of loyalty that I no longer feel in any manner.   Things look awesome here, I should  have jumped ship sooner.