RPF All the Sins of the Saints

The only constant is change.
- Heraklitus




All the Sins of the Saints







He won, they lost. They had all lost. They were all dead or worse. Some actually had never existed.

And the desert and it´s uncompromising emptiness seemed to be the perfect place to be in that moment. He laughed about his victory. He laughed about it all. His laughter ruled the world! His laughter had made Gods tremble and it was his laughter, the final laughter that was the sad requiem of humanity and it´s ways.

It was over and it brought tears to his eyes, that seemed to swallow his laughter. He cried for all he had lost and all he had won on this final day. Judgment Day it had been indeed. But it had not been God judging his creation, it had been HIM judging God´s creation in one final trial. And humanity, god´s chosen creation, had terribly failed. Free will had shown what it was. A trap. A failure. A privilege that belonged to Gods!

“Karl, Tony, you fools. Do you see now! DO YOU SEE NOW!” The man cried and threw his hands to the side, kneeling in the sand. There was nobody to watch the grande gesture. There was nobody anymore. He was alone. After a long moment he felt the tears on his cheeks and his laughing was desperate and bitter when he forced it out of his mouth. They were all dead. All. Dead.

“Isn´t it perfect?” the voice was young and female. The man turned up his head and wiped the tears from his eyes, looking at the silhouette of the figure which moved towards him. The sun in her back blinded him.

“Perfect?” He wondered why he had not screamed yes, but instead asked that question.

“That it all ends in the most human of all states of mind. That it all ends with such an irony.” The female voice was cold and bitter and distant. The Man knew he would talk for the last time with her.

“I don´t see any irony in it. What would be ironic. There is nothing left, is it?”

“That is the irony. You crying. And you not understanding why you cry. You probably never will. But then again, now you got eternity to find out. Do you?”

“Do I?”

“I haven´t decided yet.” The figure turned and became a shade again against the remorseless brightness of the sun. “The irony is, that despite you ending humanity, it will be you who misses it. Haven´t you realized it yet? Without them, you are nothing.”

And his laughter changed once more as is resurfaced, loosing all bitterness and triumph as he embraced the only thing left with him in the world.

Madness.

This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang, but with a wimper.

The woman whispered the words, as she turned and left.



This is the End.

After The Sins of the Saints, it´s sequels The Sins of the Fathers and The Sins of the Sons this game will conclude the story of The Change and our protagonists and bring this project to an end. There is no if and when, no sequels of any kinds to it (although I leave open the door for other people´s prequels).

On the 24th of May my players will do their last posts and I´ll update for a final time. After that you will get an epilogue I won´t talk about yet. And then it´s a wrap. So who can play?

Everybody who had active characters in SotF and SotSo is invited to take reprise them, no CS wanted or needed, no questions asked. You´ll get an update and you can go on. If you want to reprise an character (if he still is alive) you can send me a PM and I´ll think about it. If you haven´t joined any of the SotS before, you missed that chance. No new players of any kind will be taken from this point on.

The Character-Sheets of the last game still are valid, no posting of CS is needed.

Welcome to All the Sins of the Saints.

Make yourself a home, because this is how the world ends.


The Rules:

1. GM word is law as always

2. This game will update at least every second day, you can update as often as you can, but considering the extreme narrow timetable we are owrking here I´ll move along characters if the plot demands it and other players are waiting on them. I will try to do my utmost to do this in a gentle way.

3. CS from games before are valid. You can post new ones of oyur char, you do not have to.

4. Godmodding, TOS you know the drill. If you want some freedom, write me a PM.

5. GMs are me and LordT. Any questions? Ask.

6. OOC is only allowed with an in-character post.

7. Enjoy the game./>

19 years before the game . . .
(by SirakRomar&DarklordoftheFins)

Protocol of patient Laura Blohm

Doctor: Laura how are you today?
Laura: Not so good to be truthful.
Doctor: Is something wrong with the medication? You should be better?
Laura: They told me I don´t have to take those pills.
Doctor: No, but we talked about it. You wanted to see things clearly, you said. Those pills were meant to help you with that.
Laura: They didn´t. I stopped taking them.
Doctor: Why?
Laura: They might influence my judgment, my ability to remember. I read it in the internet.
Doctor: Aha. That an happen, but isn´t . . . oh I see. You don´t want to flaw your qualities as a witness, is it that?
Laura: My father, the police questioned him. He told me.
Doctor: He told you? He isn´t supposed to talk to you.
Laura: I called him.
Doctor: Why did you do that Laura?
Laura: To tell him I hate him.





One year before the game . . .

Nakamura family home, Tawaramoto, Nara Japan
Friday the 19th August, 2011

　

It was a cool autumn afternoon in Tawaramoto, and the end of another school day for the Students of Keio Shiki Senior high school. Throngs of students passed through the school gates, eager to get home to enjoy the weekend. Walking along a tree lined residential street, two female students were chatting as they walked together. “How did you do on the test today?” The taller of the two said to her companion. The other girl shook her head and sighed “Not great, if my Okaa-san finds out, she’ll kill me…maybe you can help me study for the next one, Sumiko-chan, you always do well” Sumiko nodded in agreement “Sure Kotoha-chan, I don’t mind helping you study” The pair stopped outside of a house and Sumiko turned to walk through the gate. “I’ll see you later Kotoha!” She said, waving as the other girl continued on home. “Later!”

Walking through the front door of her home, she put down her school bag in the genkan and stepped out of her shoes. “Okaa-san, Otou-san, I’m home!” She called out as she pulled off her Jacket and hung it up by the door. From the kitchen the familiar voice of her mother caught her ears.

“Sumiko-chan? Could you come in here for a minute?”

Entering the kitchen, her dark eyes fell on her mother and father. They were both sitting at the kitchen table, her father nursing a mug of tea. It was then she noticed the official looking envelope that her mother held in her hands.
“This arrived for you while you were at school. It looks like its from the embassy”

Taking a seat at the table, her mother passed the letter across to her. Picking up the envelope, Sumiko looked at it for a moment. To the left of the stamp, the logo of the American embassy stood out in blue ink. Chewing her bottom lip nervously, she glanced up at her parents. Her father was watching intently, and her mother had a look of quiet anticipation on her face.

“Come on dear, open it”

Her mother coaxed gently, resting her hand on her daughters arm supportively. Sumiko nodded, blowing out a soft breath. She wasn’t going to lie, she was nervous. Slipping her finger underneath the flap, she ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter within. Unfolding it, she started to read:


Dear Miss Nakamura　
Further to your application, it is my great pleasure to inform you that you have been selected to participate in the Students Overseas Scholarship programme - Intake 2012

Your acceptance onto this programme is evidence of the selection committees confidence in your potential, as well as recognition of your scholastic achievements and your unique personal qualities. We believe that you embody all the values and motivations of a successful exchange candidate

As one of the foremost organisations specialising in educational and cultural exchange, we are committed to helping you get the most out of your overseas placement. We aim to provide participants with first class tuition and valuable cultural and life experience in a foreign country, specifically, the United States Of America. We understand that the decision to participate on an exchange programme may appear daunting at first, and as such we are on hand to assist with any queries and concerns you may have, both before and during your placement.

Upon receipt of the enclosed “Intent to Participate” form, A detailed welcome pack will be posted to you within 2 - 3 weeks, containing a programme handbook, detailed itinerary, details on your host family, host school and further documentation which you must complete and send back to us in order to process your visa and any other official programme documentation. If for any reason you decide to decline your placement, you must inform the Tokyo Office immediately.

Congratulations on your selection and best wishes from all of us at the Students Overseas Scholarship staff. 　
Yours Sincerely　
Miss Keiko Osaba
(Programme Co-ordinator, Tokyo Office)


“I…I got accepted! I got in!” Sumiko exclaimed, the look of shock on her face rapidly faded and was replaced by a bright smile as the realisation hit home. Her stomach was in knots and she was shaking slightly, but a wave of happiness and relief swept over her. Her mother stood up and pulled her daughter in a tight hug, a proud smile on her face

“Oh Sumiko, Congratulations! I’m so proud of you! This is such a great opportunity”

She said happily as she pulled away from her, taking the letter from her hand and scanning over it herself. Sumiko let out a soft nervous laugh, trying her best to compose herself. Her father walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a light supportive squeeze. Sumiko looked him in the face, and saw him smile. But for the briefest of moments there was a flicker of something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place.

“Well done my dear. You’ve worked so hard, you deserve this. I’m happy for you”

He said softly and Sumiko gave him a grateful look and bowed her head slightly in respect
“Thank you, Otou-san, I‘ll make the most of this, I promise”



Humbold University of Berlin, computer lab
(byDarkLordoftheFins)
“what could you offer me to pack my things and go to Africa? Sorry, but I got commitments here!” Jacob sighed. Truth was he disliked the black priest. He was creepy, he wanted to get rid of him. The man had a confidence which seemed crazy to Jacob. No intelligent man could be so sure of an<thing.

“Mr. Zinsky, why don´t you take this piece of paper over there and write a number on it, the number it needs to convince you to come, hm?”

Jacob laughed. “Ten million.” The priest smiled. “sure. I´ll book you a flight. The money will be on your account by tomorrow, okay?” Jacob sat there and felt his jaw drop. Was that happening?

“Why? Why are you paying ten million Euro for a damned student?”

The priest turned around slowly and came back to Jacob nodding. “We´re not. We pay you ten million for your invention. And as I see it, if your program can do what it is supposed to . . . it is worth any price, is it?”
Jacob smiled. “I think you are the first to believe in that program.”
The Priest raised a brow. “Yeah, we´re good in being the first to believe in things. It paid of before.” Then he turned and left, leaving a very rich Jacob Zinsky wondering what he had got himself into.



Nine months before the game . . .
Hollishead Estate, London suburbs
(by WingedJedi)

Summer sun in the suburbs of London, and at the house of Giles Hollinshead, a group of workmates gathered for a barbecue with their families. From the outside they appeared to be ordinary upper middle-class Britons, dressed conservatively but fashionably, chatting about Test Cricket scores, market fluctuations in the City, private school waiting lists for their children. They had the complacent air of the comfortably wealthy, safely ensconced within the more privileged echelons of British society.
Appearances, of course, could be deceiving. Even at a middle-class suburban barbecue.
“Is there anyone here,” asked Rudyard Vane-Tempest, helping himself to a prawn sandwich, “who hasn’t risked their lives for Queen and country?”
“The Atkinsons,” replied Giles, topping up his friend’s wine glass. “The young couple on the patio, chatting with Stanley. Architects, I believe. They’re the neighbours, I had to invite them.”
“Oh no need to make excuses,” said Rudyard. “It’s always more fun when there’s someone not in on the joke. What did you tell them?”
“That everyone here is from the same brokerage firm. They must think we’re awfully dull.”
“Well, we are. The biggest state secret is just how bloody boring all the other secrets are.”
Having replenished their paper plates and wine glasses, the two men retired inside to the living room, while the party continued out in the sun. Perched upon the sofa was a young boy, busily scribbling away inside an A4 jotter.
“Matthew!” snapped Rudyard, though he had to click his fingers to get the boy’s attention. “What are you doing cooped up in here? Go outside and socialise for goodness’ sake! Where’s your brother?”
“Dunno,” mumbled the boy.
“Well go and find him. Have something to eat at least. Go on, off with you. I’d like to talk with Uncle Giles alone.”
Matthew murmured something unintelligible and scampered out of the room, leaving his jotter behind.
“We could go into the drawing room,” said Giles once the boy had gone. “He can watch the TV in here if he likes -”
“No, that’s alright,” said Rudyard. “He can watch television at home. It’s good for him to actually talk to people. He’s a lot better these days, I don’t want him to regress.”
“How’s he doing at school?”
“His behaviour’s been excellent since we moved him to Broomhayes. I think he finds it easier to mix with similar children.”
“Certainly enjoys his anagrams,” remarked Giles, skimming through the abandoned jotter. “He’s listed all our names, look. GILES MAURICE HOLLINSHEAD becomes…HE IS SLUDGIER MELANCHOLIA. How pleasant.”
“Indeed,” said Rudyard. “He wants to apply to go on Countdown. I suppose he’d be rather good. His mother’s always encouraging him. I think it’s a little odd.”
“How is Marie, anyway?” asked Giles, settling himself down in an armchair. “A shame she couldn’t come today.”
Rudyard put his glass and plate down on the coffee table, and let out a long, loud sigh. His whole body seemed to shudder as he did so, and his fingers continued to tremble slightly as he spoke.
“It’s over, Giles,” he said. “Finished. The divorce papers came through yesterday morning.”
For a moment there was silence, broken only by the distant chatter from the barbecue outside.
“Oh Rudy,” said Giles, stepping over to his friend and patting him on the back. “That’s a tremendous pity. Do the boys know?”
“Not yet. When I went to pick them up she said that she would prefer we told them together. We’ll sit down at the weekend and do it, I suppose. But they know already, I’m sure. Matthew notices everything, even if he doesn’t say much, and it was Edward who told me about this man she’s supposedly been seeing.”
“My word, she didn’t waste any time eh?” said Giles. “Who is this chap then?”
“His name’s Malik Diouf. Oil company executive. She must have met him at one of her luncheons. Before you ask, I already ran a few checks on him. No dirt- a couple of traffic offences, nothing major.”
“You know we can always…sex up his record, so to speak.”
Rudyard chuckled darkly.
“Oh, what’s the point? She’s moved on. Let her be happy; I’ll go on being miserable. You know, I rather fancy something stronger than wine.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Giles, getting up to fetch some whiskey and a couple of glasses. “Misery and Scotch go hand-in-hand. Wives just get in the middle.”
They toasted solemnly.
“I have to leave here, old boy,” said Rudyard, scowling as he sipped. “God knows with all the chaos going on the world just now, there must be some place that I could run to. Just get lost in work again.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Rudy. Matthew and Edward would miss you horribly.”
“I doubt that. They don’t even like coming here. To London, I mean. They prefer me to just go and see them in Devon, and even then just for dinner and an evening. Edward spends most of the time texting his friends. It’s barely worth the drive. Three hours in a car just to be patronised and humoured by your own sons, and then three hours back to dwell on how little you have to say to each other. It’s depressing.”
There was a sudden crash from outside, and a rising hubbub.
“Oh dear,” said Giles, standing up. “It’s probably that damned cat. Sorry, I was listening-”
“Not at all,” said Rudyard. “Please, go see to your guests. I’ll stay with the Scotch, if you don’t mind.”
Alone again, Rudyard sat for a few minutes doing nothing in particular, picking at lint on his trousers and scrutinising the surrounding décor. Eventually he picked up his son’s jotter, and flicked through the pages until he came to the entry for his own name.
“RUDYARD VANE-TEMPEST is…EMPTY, SAD ADVENTURER.”
He smiled thinly, and downed his glass.
Five minutes later, and Giles had returned, with one of those unspectacular blue folders in his hands. True secrets had no red and no top-secret markers. Real secrets were kept in unassuming files which officially never existed.

"You like Asians?" The question was out of context, but it seemed to be an intention non-sequitur.

Rudyard stifled a laugh.

"All sensible gentlemen do, Giles. Isn't that what you said on my stag night? I'm beginning to wonder if you were right..."

“Well, as your unofficial Boss I´d say you should concentrate on your career. But let´s be honest, you as a spook is a ticking time bomb at this point. Melancholia and Her Majesty´s less salubrious services . . . don´t fit well."

His fingers drummed across the folder, and he sat down next to Rudyard again. He did not tell him the CIA had asked him to choose someone to trust for the job, he did not say that this silly American Professor announcing an evolutionary change on TV was actually closer to the truth than anybody believed. He did not tell him about a few hundred thousand people missing. All of that Rudyard would find out a lot later. All he said was:

"I need someone . . . and I mean someone I trust . . . in Tokyo. Nothing wild, we´ve just been rather sleepy on that front and with the whole pacific alliance between the Japs and the US… it´s a different set of people, different set of tasks. It’s akin to dating a new woman, taking her for drinks and dinner and getting the money for the expenses from us, you know? And before you tell me it’s too early to be dating again, this is part of the job. An order so to speak."

"Well, I don't-"

Giles smiled. "Don´t say no. Don´t. You´ll say yes eventually anyway. Don't make me do the puppy dog eyes."

"God," sighed Rudyard. "That might have worked on the women when you were twenty-five. Now you look more like an elderly bulldog waiting to be put out of its misery."

Giles still had the file and there was no telling what was in it and what it had to do with Rudyard and the job. He had shown it to him for a reason, though. It underlined he wanted him to be there.
"Think about it, then say yes on Monday. That gives you ample time to beat yourself up for running away before finally acquiescing."
“Then I’ll think about it,” replied Rudyard.

Giles' mobile rang and he left once again with a smile and a muttered excuse, leaving Rudyard to his thoughts.

"Mr. Prest, thanks for calling back . . . " was all Rudyard could hear before Giles was too far away.



Eight Month before the game . . .
(by Mitthfisto)
How did it all go wrong? Was it his passions? Was it the job. The job, that was probably it. Long hours and great pay she could deal with but long hours and lousy pay she couldn’t. Didn’t she see that working for MI-5 was not a dream of a naïve child, but that of a patriotic Englishman who wants to do more then give prescriptions and diagnose what in probably another fifty years would be done with a machine and a grad student?
That was what it came down to. Well not really. Fidgeting in his chair he moved the steal construct back another inch from the similar steel table. Sure it had a nice venire of fake wood on top, but it didn’t hide the cold truth of the room he was in. Tapping the table softly he continued down his private destitute rabbit hole. He, unlike a certain Alice had taken that hole a great many times since a few years ago. Only now he was doing so because mere moments before he had been called into this office, to stare at the image of his boss who was the opposite of the desk top in every way externally, yet could embody it everyway internally. The man’s cholesterol levels were probably atrocious, but he wasn’t about to try telling the man to soften up on the chips.
What had him pondering though was the second man, who was standing back to the side of the table, leaning against a cabinet trying to look for all the world like boredom was a serious killer and Markus was the one playing with the gun. A rather convoluted way to stand, but the man who had introduced himself as Giles, just Giles, somehow was pulling it off.
The truth was investigating the weirdness that had started to plague the world was the single point of the man’s selling point. At least at first and so Markus had sat there after saying a polite ‘No, thank you. I like my feet away from the fire.’ Where everyone had come to silent resolution to deny him the privilege to leave his bosses office and simply stared at him after telling him to think on it some more. How much more was was anybodies guess, and he was waiting for an answer as his mind rumbles through the vegetation of his own past misfortunes. If his mother had been alive maybe he would of never married that woman, but then his world would not have the bright gem of Alicia within it. As a father he could not think of such a world. It might be better to end it then ponder that.
Shaking his head he figured at least here he was able to talk with his daughter every now and then, if he followed these people, there would be no guarentees. Not to mention he wouldn’t even be truly working for the crown anymore. Merely working for some new UN pet project ESTI to ‘diagnose’ the Change. Personally he was still going with God’s wrath and the apocalypse, but that was not something you talked about at the water cooler let alone your boss. At least not when it hadn’t hit your own country yet.
Giles spoke softly, “We’ll have the headquarters in Germany.”
Once more I shook my head, but was silenced before I could speak by a warding gesture from both men in the office.
“Where we think this is centered. It will be. . .”
Now that, that stopped everything for him. Giles went on with more of spiel, but for Markus, it was over. The gem of his world, the precious thing in the Universe that was a part of him, in the paternal sense was at the eye of this. It was like getting electrocuted and feeling the energy zap through one’s heart, med school and office mishaps, but it didn’t stop as the palpable panic welled within himself. Looking at his boss and the man called Giles once more he now raised his hand “When do I leave?”
So was destinies chosen, and instead of picking out which cave in England to head to if the Change came here, he was going to go to it. God help him, and protect his little daughter.



Six months before the game . . .
The flat of Dr. Camden Fosset
(by spycoder9)

Camden eased into his chair. A soft sigh escaped his lips. Finally, after working non-stop since he had came into the hospital that morning, he had a few seconds of rest. But he wouldn’t get any rest actually. A case had been troubling him since he had first heard about it. Several of his old friends from college had sent him an email. Apparently, in San Francisco, an older man had come down with a cold. But over the process of a couple of days, he got worse and worse. He had went to the hospital one night when he began to constantly throw up. They had done tests for three days now. Nothing. Zip. Camden popped open his email, checking to see if there was any new details on the case. The name of the patient popped up first.

Giovanni Baker.

Didn’t mean much to him, but it probably did to the guy’s daughter. Camden had considered contacting the girl himself, but the other doctors had told him that Giovanni had requested his daughter not be bothered. She had just begun her trip around the world, and he didn’t want to trouble her. Also, it would’ve been a hassle to reach the girl, considering he didn’t know exactly where she was.

A cold. Consuming illness. Strange, strange things. Should Camden consider becoming embroiled in the case? It actually scared him, because if he helped on this one case, he might on another. And then another. And then they would escalate so far as to him wanting to move to California. And Carly would never leave her sister.

Giovanni Baker, I’m sorry.

Camden deleted the email, rubbing his tired eyes. He probably couldn’t of even saved the guy in the first place.

From the room next door he heard the voice of that Havard Professor, Moore he was called.
"Change is the only constant and this is not anything irreversible, it is progr I believe. It is too quick and too sudden, but it is progress."
"So Professor Moore you do not accept the term the Event?"
"Robert, I think that is to make people scared. I prefer to call it what it really is. I call it the Change . . ."


A month before the game . . .
(by TTemp/Sir_Draco)

He had taken the job. It was below his usual level of work, but above his usual pay. And hell, since that riverside debacle he had not exactly had a lot to do. Rufus needed work. If he did not work, he was drinking and that meant, he was actually a borderline alcoholic right now. He had no idea why this was. He had interests, not exactly hobbies, but interests. And yet, once a job was done, he only could think of a bottle.
Had he not been booked by a lot of people recently for a lot of jobs, he would have been lost. Then came the Riverside thing and Mr. Casper made so sure he would not get anybody to hire him. And welcome Jack Daniels, his favourite therapist!

Then some old client had called. Nobody connected. Nobody who would know and care about how en vogue his agency was nowadays. It was a desperate crying man who could afford Rufus services, because he made a few bucks by cutting taxes short for people. And that guy, who was alright and a good father and all that, was missing his little daughter. Police did not have a clue, so he remembered Rufus, good old Rufus he had once hired to find a vanished client.
Not Rufus kinda deal, usually. He was ready to pay a lot, but missing children? Then again, no other offers out there. The funny thing, Rufus had never seen that money.
“the police thinks I did something to her. I just miss her so much, she is ten! A childe and nobody is looking for her.”
“Paul, calm down.”
“I have a question, Mr. Jameson. Call it a test.”
“I haven´t said I want the job.”
“Will you answer it anyway? Please?”
“Ojkay, yeah. What is it?”
“If you found out I did something to her. Raped and killed her. What would you do?”
“I would kill you.”
“Good. You are my man, Rufus. Exactly my man. 250.000 Dollars. Cash. Transfer, whatever you want to. A quarter million if you find my daughter.”
“Paul, Paul listen, you wanna pay me 250.000 dollars?”
“Yes!”
“For finding your daughter?”
“Yes! Rufus I can pay more . . .”
“No, no, handsome number already. And I accept und one condition.”
“Whatever you want, you want the money upfront? I trust you Mr. Jameson.”
“You really shouldn´t. Never trust anyone.”
“I need to trust someone and I have more trust in the ones I pay than in the ones . . . “
“You suspect?”
“Yes.”
“250.000 Dollars plus expenses. Give me 5.000 in advance for traveling, hotel and bribes. Everything else, give me when I got her back, okay? I don´t want your money, if I don´t bring her back.”

He had never found her. Actually it had not been about the money. Rufus had made a name as a counter-industrial-espionage guy and private investigations. He had clients like Casper. For him this all was not about the money since he looked into that Blackpool thing. He wanted to find that girl for that poor crying bastard. But he never did.
Now he was sitting in his room, with a drink. The first drink he ever had on the job. He smoked like a fiend when working and when not. But now he had a drink in his hand and he was worried what he was becoming. Bitter, cynical, lonely. The second box of cigarettes was fighting it´s dwindling numbers and he took another one and lit it, as he stared at the TV. Something about the middle east conflict and how the Iran had used anti-American . . . oh what the hell. War for oil. He switched channels and found only more horrors. Vanished people in Detroit, 10.000 missing without a trace . . . he switched . . . Professor Moore. Some guy saying it wasn´t chaos, it was only . . . whatever.
Rufus took his drink and before it reached his lips he sat it down and switched to the last channel. 10.000 missing in Detroit? Over 50.000 people in all of the US? He leaned forward. Without a trace. Like the little girl.

“People don´t just vanish.” Paul insisted. Rufus nodded and sighed.
“Apparently they do. Happened in Detroit, Kansas, Houston. Everywhere. A whole town vanished in Nevada. 500 people gone. In Europe they say it is even worse. Much worse.”
The woman was clam and sad, staring at him. “And you believe that is what happened to our little girl?”
“Yes Ma´am. I got the missing persons files from the police. They have 0.37 people missing a day. On that day? 47. And all of them used the same bus. The Line 202. It is also a busline from your daughters school back home and last she was scene was getting into a bus. I think the people on that bus went missing and I think whatever makes this happen has happened here. And your daughter was a victim.” It wasn´t the answer he had hoped to give, but he was strangely certain it was true.

A week later he was drunk and without a job. And the moment he woke up in his small apartment, his expensive Single Malt next to him and his eyes upon the grey ceiling, he knew he wasn´t alone. His body tensed and snapped up like a springknife. A man was sitting on a chair next to him. Suit. Expensive. In his late thirties? Smart. You can see that in their eyes. Smug. Arrogant. Amused. Rufus grabbed for his gun. “you won´t need that one Mr. Jameson. My name is Milton Prest and I was very impressed with your work for Paul Jones.” Rufus took the gun anyway, but only drew it closer. He did not ask how the man got in. Probably drunk as he was, he had left the door open. “Okay. You had to wait by my bed to tell me that? Could have called?” Mr. Prest shook his head. “I got a job for you, Mr. Jameson and it is one, I would never talk about on the phone.” Rufus rubbed his forehead. No headache. Surprising. He stood up and got himself a glass of water, having the gun hanging in his left hand. He poured it from the kitchen and returned, leaning against the door only in his boxershorts. Mr. Prest waited, patiently. “What is it?”
Prest looked at him and smiled. The smile made the blood freeze inside the body. “Ever been to Nepal, Rufus?”


An hour before the game . . .
(by LordTroepfchen)

“You had one shot and you missed, Milton. You missed.” Carl sighed and thought about hanging up. But Milton was Milton and he would find a way to be annoying. He had killed one of his remaining bodies and had probably something to do with killing the second in Tokyo. His son had the idea to go to the Jabe hospital from somewhere.
Milton laughed out on his end of the line, explosions rambling through the city behind him as he spoke. “Carl, we´ll see each other soon enough and we´ll see who missed something.” And he killed the line, leaving a surprised Carl stranded in Europe. Milton Prest looked from his terrace onto the destruction the civil war had brought to Washington D.C. and he felt the itching in his fingers. Holding his hand up high he smiled and folded his arms.
A poem by T.S. Eliot came to his mind. The Hollow Men. He had always liked Eliot, almost as much as John Milton.

This is the dead land

This is cactus land

Here the stone images

Are raised, here they receive

The supplication of a dead man’s hand

Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this

In death’s other kingdom

Waking alone

At the hour when we are

Trembling with tenderness

Lips that would kiss

Form prayers to broken stone.

Milton Prest took a sip from his fruity cocktail and looked upon the dying land of the USA. Oh tony had been right. A wicked mind was the most dangerous of all weapons of mass destruction. And what a wicked mind he had . . .

Jabe-Hospital
The young man was still wearing nothing but his hospital gowns and was shaking, as he found a mobile in the clothes of a dead Doctor. Nakamura he read the label on her chest. It had been chest, he assumed. Now she was only an unrecognizable mass of flesh and blood. John made his first call and got only the mailbox of Carl Weber. He delivered his message and then called a second number, one he had been forced to memorize long ago . . . or was it far in the future? He was weak, almost collapsing, but grinning.

“Father?”

“You did it.” Milton Prest´s voice was oozing with triumph.

“Yes, I think he is dead. I think he is no more . . .”

“He is still alive in one form or another. What did he tell you? What is it you have learned?”

“Everything, father. I know now. I know now where to find him.”





Chapter 1 – The Silent Prophet

Warehouse, East Washington D.C.
They had been cuffed and taken prisoners by the gang. Neither Sanders, nor Basset and not even Shepard and Jenkins could have done anything against the pure numbers of their captors. The only one of them not cuffed had been the mouthless girl.
Lydia had brought them to a warehouse somewhere deep in the East End. They had seen an army of gang-members, but also ordinary people, all wearing their left side of the face painted white in the warehouse, maybe a thousand or even more, who had celebrated the sight of the mouthless girl. The Silent Prophet, they had screamed and whispered, as they had been brought through the assembly to the cellars beneath, where they had been thrown in the heater room, a small room underground, warm and wet and with a locked iron door. The mouthless girl was sitting in the middle of the room now, crying. Opposite of her sat Shep and next to him Jenkins, who had been silent since they had been captured, telling everybody who wanted to hear it or not his rank and his assurance he wouldn´t say anything.

Sanders and Basset were on the opposite. “Prest wil get us,” the CIA man whispered to Basset. “She is too valuable for him. To precious to leave them with this . . . gang.” It sounded as if he wanted to assure himself first and foremost.

Tag: CPL, Spycoder9



The underground garage, Washington D.C. downtown

Professor Moore and the clearly suffering George stood there, awaiting the four cops answer. His eyes plead for help and in the man, who they probably recognized as the leading intellectual of their country, was desperation.

“Maybe this is a bit above our pay-rate, that saving the world stuff.” Malone sighed and looked at his partner. Blight had her gun still drawn, pointing it at George, who had problems staying on his feet, as the radiation obviously was killing him.

Tag: HS29



Chapter 2 – For Thine is the Kingdom


Rome

The eternal city was burning. They arrived in the early morning hours with the Osprey, two commando units from some mercenary firm with them and saw the city was burning. The commandoes had revealed to Markus where they could find Cardianl Esrada, who lived on the ground of the Vatican. But what they saw indicated they were running out of time . . . the city had obviously been infected by the same madness that had taken Hamburg and as probably consuming most of Europe right now . . .

Laura had been silent most of the time. But once she arrived in the city she had felt the presence of something . . . someone nearby. Time and space meant nothing now, she felt her father. He was here in one form or another. Watching, seeing events unfold . . .

“We´ll go down at the Vatican. They got a landing pad, we´ll try to refuel the Osprey, Sir.” The commando announced and nodded to Markus. “From there you are on your own. Logoi-Strata 9, that is where Mr. Weber send us to. We´ll get you there. I hope you know what to do from then on.”

Tag: KiraRomar, MitthFisto


Chapter 3 – Risingson



When they arrived at the address Leonard had given them it turned out to be a lounge. It was empty at these hours, which was no surprise, it were early morning hours in Tokyo. But when they entered one man was sitting there indeed. Just as they had been told.

Tony smiled at Sumiko as he saw her enter with Andy and it was a smile of incredible sadness.
“Hello Sumiko.” He nodded and light a cigarette, offering two seats to them with a gesture. His eyes were burning with sad realization his plans had failed.

Tag: Spycoder, Leigh

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The Future

Empire, Nevada

Empire was empty, abandoned long ago, as Jackson had known. A mining city that lost it´s use long before the change. Yet, when he arrived there in his car, he saw light. Electric light in one single house, near the center of the small town which had been build in disturbing perfect symmetry.

And he heard a tune from there he found all to familiar . . . and this one wasn´t a recording . . .

Tag. MonoGirly


Las Vegas, Nevada

Stuart sighed and turned his old face to Sandra, his smile revealing missing teeth. “You cannot stay.” He sighed. “You cannot. Tony . . . had a plan. And you are only hope now to see it succeed now. You know that, do you?”
He lay down his knife and fork and pushed the pizza he had made away. The small bunker which had been his home for decades seemed even smaller with two people in it

Tag: SirakRomar

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Chapter 4 - Zinksy was right

The New Rose Hotel

Rudyard had not made it far into the foyer, when he saw the two young Japanese with the huge back and their hands in their clothes. They saw him too and nodded to each other. It was obviousy, they would not give up their package voluntary.

“It´s them?” Ghost only asked, her pumpgun barely hidden behind her back.


Above Rufus ran from the room and his one great love, he had found in this sad and broken world, as Lilith was consumed by her own son. He had taken many lives, but Rufus had been right. Taking 15.000 years of existence was painful and difficult even for him and it took time, time he could not spend in pursuing the American, who had escaped him a second time.
Screaming in pain Lilith vanished in blur or spasms to fast for the eyes to perceive, as the hands of her sons slowly sank into her skull, taking her . . . all of her . . . a sacrifice worthy of the desperate times . . . an immortal felt death finally catching up . . .

Tag: Winged, LordT, Draco/TTemp, Sinrebirth/>/>

Andrea “Andy” Rebecca Baker
Tokyo


Andy wasn’t sure about this location Sumiko had wanted to visit. But, she wasn’t sure of a lot of things. She wasn’t sure why she was still alive. She wasn’t sure why Vincent had not come to see her. She wasn’t sure why God would allow time-travel and evil priests and bloodthirsty creatures. She had been thrown through so many loops that she felt even more unsure of herself than she ever had before.

And to add to all that had went on, they arrived at a lounge which had a lone man sitting inside of it. This time in the morning. It could only mean this guy was meant for them. The Japanese man’s eyes went from Sumiko to Andy, and Andy sensed such an utter amount of sadness that her heart sank. She felt the same way he did, she had to of.

She looked around the lounge as he said Sumiko’s name and pointed to two seats beside him. Andy hesitantly walked to her seat and sat down. Finally she glanced at the Japanese man.



“I’m Andrea Baker,” She offered her hand, but then took it back when she noticed he was lighting a cigarette. She was ready to get this over with. Time to find out what the hell was really going on.


TAG: @DarkLordoftheFins, @Jedi_Padawan_Leigh

Laura Blohm
Osprey above Rome

"Oh my God, it is burning." She gasped as she looked out of the small window. She had seen Hamburg fall apart, the city she had lived in, but seeing and realizing it was continental problem, maybe a global one was different, anyway. The commandoes explained details. She did not care about detaisl, all she cared about was time and hteirs was running out. Would her father wait until she was gone? Why rome? he had been a man of faith, she would have expected this city to be the last to burn. "Maybe my father has no control over what he does? Maybe he cannot or does not want to stop it once it has begun and now it is spreading?" She wondered aloud. Maybe it wasn´t her father at all, maybe it was something that happened because of him, but without his intervention?

"He knows we´re here." She said then in a tone Markus would probably hear, but not the others. "We must act fast. I got the feeling the world won´t last much longer."

Tag: @MitthFisto




Sarah Brandt
The Future, Las Vegas, Shelter

She sighed and allowed her head to sink. "Stuart I have no idea what was the plan. Find the mouthless girl? We found a mouthless. But what then? Sumiko was meant to save the world, not me. I was dream-trained to serve as a bodyguard. For nothing else I am prepared. and even this is still . . . surreal." She took out her gun and allowed the magazine to slide out of the chamber. She checked it and put it back in, all with the automated moves she had learned in her sleep since she was twelve.

"I don´t know what to do. Stuart, I think we lost."

Tag: @DarkLordoftheFins

Markus J. F. Christianson
The Vatican

It wasn't long and they were landing. All they had to do was find Esrada. Of course adding the very turbulant atmosphere of Rome at the moment he was beginning to wonder about the necesity to even do anything. If this was by God's plan, who was he to fear the future? Then it came like an unbidden image, his daughter. Alicia. That was his reason and he pushed himself as they left the Osprey behind and soon would themselves at the doors to Esrada.

Chasing legends that most the world believed to be fables of bygon eras. Funny how the unchecked dead tended to rise up now at the end of it all. Or was it? So many questions, so many subsumed knowledge and information was supplanted. He would ponder it more later, after all he now had time. Whether that would reach twenty-eight thousand years he doubted and yet did not really care. Laura was speaking of a rush and he could not argue, but to see another burn was nothing new. He was surcumspect, and now was merely about getting to a few hasty end of world meetings that this woman whom he had a time not perceiving as an angelic being of sorts now needed to reach. All to thwort her father.

Oh what tangled webs we weave, when first we ponder to perceive. No cave of old with prisoners bound could compare to this. Yet so it goes. It was time to meet the Iluminaty.

TAG: @DarkLordoftheFins , @KiraRomar

IC: Sumiko Nakamura
Tokyo, Lounge
　
They had moved through the crowded streets that made up the mega city that was Tokyo, they melted in with the crowds, passing un-noticed by the cities citizens who were too busy chatting on cell phones, or laughing drunkenly with co-workers as they made their way to the next bar. but Sumiko couldn’t help but feel paranoid as they stopped to look at street maps or walked through an exposed area. She held the piece of paper in her hand in an iron grip, scared to lose the only clue she had to what was going on. It was a long way from Jabe hospital and she wasn’t really feeling at peak. The gun that the mysterious man had given her was still tucked into her waistband, the cold of the metal glanced against her skin sometimes as she moved, reminding her of its presence, and that once again, the situation she found herself in was very very real. She kept playing events back in her head, trying to make sense of it all. They walked until the early hours, eventually arriving at the address. It turned out to be a lounge, empty at this hour, save for one lone occupant. The man looked up as they entered and a smile formed on his face. But it wasn’t a happy smile, it was a smile of incredible sadness, sadness that was also reflected in his eyes as he looked at her. Sumiko’s breath caught in her throat as Tony gestured to a couple of chairs and proceeded to light a cigarette

“Hello Sumiko”

Andrea took a seat in the chair but Sumiko stood rooted in place as her dark eyes fell on the man sitting before her. His words seemed to echo in her ears. It was like she had seen a ghost. He looked the same as he had done when she first encountered him on flight 2440. He had been a stranger then, just a tipsy traveller who spoke to her in drunken riddles. And a few hours later her life had been turned completely upside down. And it was because of this man…no, not just a man, she had to keep reminding herself of that…It was hard to believe that it was only 7 days ago…it felt like a whole other lifetime

She could hear her heartbeat thumping loud in her ears and she realised she was holding her breath. A storm of emotions brewed up rapidly within her, threatening to spill out when she exhaled. confusion, uncertainty…fear. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream, or cry, or turn and run as far away from him as possible. She let out a shaky breath

“You…It is…how…”

She said numbly, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. Her mind went momentarily hazy. She was tired, Mentally and Physically exhausted and it showed on her face. For so long she had sought answers to her questions, would she finally get her answers?


TAG@DarkLordoftheFins @spycoder9

The United Lounge,

"I know who you are, Andrea Rebecca baker. you sat on seat 544, didn´t you? right opposite to Mr. Vincent Doyle, if I recall right. You can call me Tony. Or Anthonry, if you prefer a latin name." His eyes lay on her for a moment, then Tony turned his full attention to Sumiko.

"Sit down Sumiko. You look tired." He gestured again. "And it is probably time you get your answers. Is it? Now that the questions do no longer matter."

He took a deep breath from his cigarette and allowed it to escape his mouth, only to suck it in immediately again, breathing it deep into his lungs.

"I got a plane to catch tonight. So I assume we should skip the formalities and start talking. It is the last time we see each other, after all."

Tag: @JediPadawanLeigh, @spycoder9






St. Peters Square, Rome

Their Osprey sat down right on St. Peters Square and the two commandoes jumped out.



The place was almost empty. Only far away two men in colourful uniforms patrolled the perimeter. Swiss guards, but even they seemed lost and small. Nobody was here. Nobody was even near the square. One would have epxected praying masses and people pleading to God, but it looked as if everybody had abandoned the Vatican. "Through the garden and then to the Cardinal´s housings!" The commander of the two mercenaries shouted and showed Markus the direction. Then he looked at Laura and shrugged. "Shall we look after her, while you are away?"

Tag: @MitthFisto, @KiraRomar

Markus J. F. Christianson
Rome

Looking back at them and Laura he shrugged. "Do as you like. I doubt you would be allowed more then she desires or to harm her." He shouted because of the noise but he ran because of the silence. The eerieness of this place being vacant during a crises rubbed him wrong. True, it had never been his belief to see a pope as an additional intermediary between heaven and earth, still it was wrong.

So he ran, and would open or break down the door if it wasn't answered quickly to what he was sure would be his inquisitive song based knock to show he was not a mindless hord that was out of breath doing the knocking. Idly as he ran he wondered, could he ever get into shape now that he couldn't die normally?

TAG: @KiraRomar, @DarkLordoftheFins

Jack Bassett
Warehouse


Things had not gone the way he had planned.

Those masses of people had overwhelmed them within seconds. Cuffs slung across his wrists, Jack had been led along with the rest of them. Sanders, and then two soldiers, and finally the girl. . .the strange creature with absolutely no sign of a mouth. It had freaked the crap out of him the moment he saw her, but his fear had subsided as they were pushed and shoved. All of them led to a warehouse deep in no-man’s land. People were everywhere, with half their faces painted white, screaming and shouting at them. And finally they had come to rest in the heater room, wet and muggy and tired. The girl sat in the middle of the cell, sobbing in her hands.

“Prest wil get us. She is too valuable for him. To precious to leave them with this . . . gang.” Sanders leaned over and spoke to Jack. Jack’s thoughts varied from Sanders’s.

“He might save the girl, but us? I’ve worked with Prest for a decent amount of time. Enough time to know what happens to people like us. It’s the end of the world, we’ve done some bad things. It might even be fitting to take a shot to the head before. . .whatever happens. . .happens.” Jack lowered his head. Then he remembered. When he had got out of Sanders’s car, he had his cellphone in his pocket. If he hadn’t fallen out, maybe he could maneuver himself so that it would fall from his pocket and he could dial a number. . .his daughter’s number. Forget Prest. He deserved death.

He just had to hear her voice one last time.


TAG: @DarkLordoftheFins, @CPL_Macja

Andrea “Andy” Rebecca Baker
The United Lounge


"I know who you are, Andrea Rebecca baker. you sat on seat 544, didn´t you? right opposite to Mr. Vincent Doyle, if I recall right. You can call me Tony. Or Anthonry, if you prefer a latin name." Andy was almost as shocked as Sumiko. This man had known her whole name without her even saying. He had known her exact seat, who she sat by, everything. That mean he was the man onboard the plane that everyone talked about, and she had never known about. Tony.

"I got a plane to catch tonight. So I assume we should skip the formalities and start talking. It is the last time we see each other, after all." Tony looked to Sumiko for the questions. Andy was fine with sitting in the background, but she had to ask one question first. Well, maybe more than one.

“Who are you? How did you know my middle name, and where I sat, and. . .” She trailed off. So many questions and so little time.

“What the hell is going on?”

That was probably the most vital question of them all.



TAG: @DarkLordoftheFins, @Jedi_Padawan_Leigh

Rudyard Vane-Tempest
The New Rose Hotel, Tokyo

"That's them," confirmed Rudyard to Ghost. "Probably."

He gestured for his companion to follow him at a short distance, and he approached the Japanese couple, not making direct eye contact with them. Once he was close enough he nodded at the man, bowing slightly.

"Sumimasen," said Rudyard politely. Excuse me. He smiled and turned so that only the couple could see his hands, revealing that he was holding a gun. He pointed it at the girl's stomach, and closed in slowly, reaching toward the bag...

Tag: Fins, LordT

IC: Jonathan Garret
Underground garage, Washington D.C.

“Maybe this is a bit above our pay-rate, that saving the world stuff,” Malone quipped before turning to look at him.

Garret knew exactly what he was thinking and while it was crazy, he was actually thinking the same thing. What other choice did they have? The world was going to hell and here was an opportunity to stop the downward spiral. If they turned down the offer, he knew they would regret it and he would personally feel guilty for whatever happened after this. They had to try, at least.

Holstering his weapon, Garret turned to Blight and put a hand on her gun to get her to do the same. "Back down," he ordered, keeping an eye on the two men. "I don't think they're going to cause any trouble." He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to the professor. "Am I right? Now, if your story is true, then we don't have much time. Let's get moving."

TAG: @DarkLordoftheFins

Laura Blohm
The Osprey, St. Peter´s Square

She had to smile about those professional idiots. They were concerned for her. "Watch out, I am a Ninja." She winked at one of them as she jumped out of the Osprey. She needed to get out of the stinking thing and she watched Markus run . . . he knew it. They were running out of time. The world was running out of time. Laura strangely felt, she was not. the mepty square, the city. Once she overcame her trained instincts of fear that civilisation ended, she realized . . . it was alright. She felt actually very comfortable with it. In a way humans had begged for something to go wrong, had they? A civilisation bringing forth people like Thomas or her father was probably one that should not be surprised it fell to victims to it´s accepted, breed little monsters, when they got big.

"I will see if the Cathedral is open." She declared and pulled her gun from her belt. "Looks empty, but even if not, I´ll shoot in the air and you can come running, okay?" And she stepped forward and slowly started walking towards the giant church.

Tag: DarkLordoftheFins

The Vatican Gardens

The gardens Markus passed were still undisturbed and beautiful. A place of quiet and piece, as if the Change hadn´t touched them, with oceans of flowers and green trees in perfect shape everywhere. At their end were the housing for the Cardinals and the Holy Fathers staff. And here was the first sign of change in the ways of the Vatican. Priests guarded them, priests with automatic pistols and who raised their guns once Markus neared. Without a word they lowered them, as soon as he came closer and without a word they opened the door. “You are expected.” The eldest of the guards spoke with a heavy Italian accent. “Second floor. The Cardinal was afraid you would not make it.”

And as soon as he entered the guards build their perimeter again. Ten of them, who looked stragely like a professional team of ESTI, except they were wearing priests clothes.

On this second floor there was a single door open and two old nuns were sitting in front of it, praying. The smell of incense came from the door and a giant bed was visible in the room, in which an old man was lying, in his nineties at least. In the corner a young Asian in a very expensive suit was sitting and smoking, looking up as Markus entered. He did not talk either. Only the old man reacted, opening his eyes as if he felt Markus presence and waving him to the bed. “The Witness, I assume.” He smiled. “coming to ask the important questions, now at the end of days.”

Tag: @Mitth_Fisto




The St. Peters Church

The St. Peters Church was open and empty. The doors were wide opened and the giant halls lay before Laura as if she had been expected. On the end of the room, before the shrine of the holy Mary a single old man was kneeling. He prayed in Latin, although he was pretty famous for speaking almost twelve languages fluently. The Pope, a German like her, ignored the entry or was probably unaware of it, as he was delving deep into his prayers.

Tag: @KiraRomar




Underground Garage, D.C.

The man called George coughed again and nodded to their car. “Our SUV is armored, we should take ours.” He said and made his way to the car. Schuler and Bright exchanged a look and in Bright hardened female features they all saw what she was thinking. George wouldn´t be around much longer. Professor Moore ignored this and turned to Garret, the de facto leader of this group now to explain the situation. “I am new to these practical aspects of work, but I think we will have great difficulties getting to the girl. She is kept prisoner in a warehouse. A warehouse full of strange fanatics who obey some sort of self-styled warlord. He seems to have hunted her, much as Prest did. The army won´t be a problem, last I heard they are engaging enemy forces in what might be the first blood in a civil war. But I am afraid back-up will be difficult to organize, too. Considering this town is going to hell fast, I think we have little time left.”

Malone sighed. “Would have been to easy, hm? Call in the cavalry. So what is so important about this girl, Professor? Why the bloodshed for her?” Professor Moore looked at the chubby police officer and sighed. “She is from the future. And if I am not mistaken, she is here to warn us of something terrible.” He tried to be as precise as possible, but he had to laugh at himself. He did not sound like a cool minded scientist anymore. He had become a believer. He believed in the Change now.

Tag: @HanSolo29



The Cellar, D. C.

The mobile fell out of the pocket of Basset and the bad luck was still haunting them. No connection was clearly visible on the display of his Smartphone. Too deep underground or maybe the network was down altogether. Even down here they could hear the rumbling of explosions that made the city tremble.
“Maybe I can get rid of those cuffs.” Sanders hissed. The mouthless girl turned to him, her eyes wide open and then back to Shepard. “guess she is not much of a talker, is she?” Sanders joked and tried to turn towards Basset. “You think I could borrow one of your studs?” He asked to Basset.

Tag: @spycoder9, @CPL_Macja


ooc: Tokyo get´s it´s update once TTemp has posted. Tokyo II when Leigh has hers up.

IC: Sumiko Nakamura
The United Lounge


"I know who you are, Andrea Rebecca baker. you sat on seat 544, didn´t you? right opposite to Mr. Vincent Doyle, if I recall right. You can call me Tony. Or Anthony, if you prefer a latin name."

Sumiko listened as Tony addressed Andrea, noticing the shocked look that quickly spread across the pretty Italian woman’s face as he read her like he would pages from a book. His gaze shifted from Andrea and rested back on her. He gestured at the chair once more

"Sit down Sumiko. You look tired….And it is probably time you get your answers. Is it? Now that the questions do no longer matter."

He took two long drags from his cigarette. The smoke swirled and wafted through the air and found the back of her nose but it was a minor annoyance at the moment

"I got a plane to catch tonight. So I assume we should skip the formalities and start talking. It is the last time we see each other, after all."

She finally sat down, but she was still tense. Next to her, Andrea spoke up, one question quickly turned into a string of questions. She understood her curiosity, Andrea hadn’t had any contact with Tony up to this point, yet he seemed to know everything about her. “He knows more than we’ll ever know” She mused silently

“Who are you? How did you know my middle name, and where I sat, and. ..What the hell is going on?

Andrea had asked the most important question for her. She wanted to know everything. The Who’s, the What’s, The Where’s, the Whys.

Why…

Why her? Why did he choose her? What was his interest in her? Her mind went back to her first experience in the desert future, as she was having the life squeezed out of her by that monster, Karl

~~~
“He was sitting next to you for a reason Sumiko, a reason! And I’ve had enough of Tony’s reasons, ENOUGH!”
~~~

“I didn’t think the concept of time mattered to you, Tony-san…considering all that has happened…”

She said quietly, forcing herself to look him in the face. She was referring to the future, the fact that she had travelled through time and that time had ceased to follow its natural pattern. That he appeared to be able to disappear and re-appear at will, and even change his face. Unconsciously she wrung her hands together as she collected her thoughts. An uneasy laugh escaped her mouth, but there was an edge of desperation and frustration in her words as she spoke.

“I want to know Everything…but If time is as limited as you say well…How am I supposed to do what you have asked of me…You send your messenger , that Sarah woman, who tells me I have to save the world?! How am I supposed to do that? It sounded so ridiculous when I first heard it…but then I saw it…saw what happens to the world. Everything dead… How can anyone be prepared for that?! Please, just...Help me understand! Please!”

　
TAG: @DarkLordoftheFins @spycoder9

Chapter 1 – The Silent Prophet

Und wenn die Welt voll Teufel wär
und wollt uns gar verschlingen,
so fürchten wir uns nicht so sehr,
es soll uns doch gelingen. – Martin Luther

IC: Joel David Shepherd
The Cellar, D.C.

Joel watched as he, Lola, and Jenkins were led to an underground cellar of a warehouse. They were joined by what looks like two company men. Joel was not sure exactly what was going on, all he knew was that the government that the four of them had once served was burning down around them. For all he knew the whole world was ablaze this very moment.

Shep sat and tried to listen in on the two men as they whispered to each other. He caught only one word – Prest. He did not know who or what Prest was, but he figured it had to be something of importance and revolving around what was happening. He also watched as one of the ‘agents’ tried to activate his cell phone, but to no avail.

“Maybe I can get rid of those cuffs,” the other agent hissed. The Lola turned to him, her eyes wide open and then back to Shepard. “Guess she is not much of a talker, is she?” the man joked and tried to turn towards the agent with the cell phone. “You think I could borrow one of your studs?” He asked to him.

“Her name is Lola,” Joel spit back at him, “and if you can get us out of these cuffs that’s fine, but we are still locked in here.” He took a breath and locked eyes with Lola once more. The depth of her gaze caused a calm to wash over him. He looked back towards the other men sitting on the opposite side of the room, “Do either of you have any idea of what is going on here?”

TAG: @DarkLordoftheFins, @spycoder9

Markus J. F. Christianson
The Vatican

With the passing of the gardens and the tranquility of it all he felt a sense of wonder. A rare moment where the garden of Eden came to mind, although in his mind he did not see the Adam and Eve of ole'. Instead a mouthless pair stood there, man and woman crying tears of blood.

Shaking himself he continued on, the guardian priests, which for all of his knowledge of the place belonged here, raised there weapons as he approached. Visitors in these times were not gifts and followers, the emptyness gave claim to that as much as the fires seen from the air. Then as he drew near the door was opened and they lowered their weapons, even giving him directions. Except for a mental association with ESTI, he did not know what to make of such warrior priests, who to him had been out of fashion for a long time. Perhaps too long.

Gracelessly he hurried up the stairs, past the nuns and incense. Beyond a film called Sister Act he had nothing to go off of from them. Inside was a different story, an asian smoked, and an old man greeted him as the witness. Which brought a small smile to his lips even if he did not do anything else but to approach the bottom of the bed and keep the Asian within view. "Yes. I need your answers, give what you will, but I also need one you might not think to give. Where is Sebastian and a black priest?"

TAG: @DarkLordoftheFins

The Vatican, Esrada Bedroom

The Cardinal coughed and there was a fine line of blood tripping from his mouth, as he began to speak. He took a piece of the pillow and cleaned it away. He as clearly a man dying, held together by pure will to have this conversation. "Sebastian Falk? Finally someone is looking for him. Oh Sebastian." He shook his head. "He is in the somali region of Ethopia, neabry the valley of alas in an estate near the biggest sea of the area. As far as I know. That is where he was for a year and he never left it. There you will find him." He shook from another wave of coughing. The asian man sat in the corner, obviously unmmoved by the suffering he witnessed. Esrada gave him a look - it looked almost pleading - and then turned back to Markus. "That is where we send him a long time ago." He added. And then smiled. "To find God."

Tag: @Mitth_Fisto



United Lounge, Tokyo

Tony took a deep brath from his cigarette and then turned to Andy. "I know things. It is what I do. I know many things." He said to her and then turned to Sumiko. He gave her a smile. It was a smile of incredible sadness. "And your questions are no longer of any meaning, Sumiko. I am afraid the burden I put on your shoulders was too much to carry. You are back and there is no way can return I am aware of. Your mission has failed, your purpose, your destiny will never be fullfilled. Iwanted you to see God and make him see there was hope. there was something worth preserving. But this will never happen now. This world will not be healed. It´s end will come. I cannot stop it anymore. Neither can you." He nodded. "And time means everything to me, my dear. I have existed since the beginning of existence itself and now I am running out of time. I am trapped by time. I am cursed with the progression of time and ultimately I might have been defeated by time." He nodded and pulled the cigarette out in the ashtray next to him. Then something showed in his face. Doubt? Did he doubt what he had just said? Maybe. A hint. A moment of emotion in his otherwise emotionless face.

"Maybe it is time. Time to end." He added and gave that incredible sad smile that made him apprear so tired and ancient.

Tag: @JediPadawan_Leigh, @spycoder9

Rufus Jameson
New Rose Motel

He had faced death a second time and defeated it. Again at a cost too high. He had given up the woman he loved, his only hope and probably his worst enemy. Yet, he ran. He still ran, as he had run from the beginning. Running out of time, running after Zinsky, the Change. Running for his life. There was still the nuke somewhere and all would be lost if he did not help the Brit unarming it. He could not allow it. He was just a man, an ordinary man with no hope to suceed in this quest he had choosen. But men were stubborn and he was an especially stubborn example of his species. He would not give up. he had lost everything and now there was nothing to loose anymore. He would stop this madness or he would die trying.

Dragging out his gun, he wondered how long he would make it. How far would he get? even getting here, with immortal killers and succubi on his heel had been impossible. Could he go a little farther?

His gun under his jacket he entered the foyer and saw Rudyard and Ghost opposite to two Japanese with an extraordinary large back. The bomb. It was indeed here, meant to wipe out all of their existences. I perfect weapon in a total war, as only a madman like Beckfris could use it. Rufus looked at the two Japanese. Was Rudyard keeping them at bay? Was he . . . .trying to make them . . .

There was no time, no time for any of this. Sooner or later Death would have lillith and then he would come after them, if not the bomb go up before that, wiping them all away of the face of the earth in a bath of a thousands suns. He raised his gun and aimed, then he shot twice. One into each head of the two Japanese opposite of Rudyard. Casualties. Beckfris men. He told himself he was a soldier now, not a murderer, but the truth was . . . he did not care. Rufus Jameson would not be stopped by anything anymore. If they wanted to keep him down, there was only one way to do that. Kill him.

And he would do his best to kil them first.

Tag: @WingedJedi, @DarkLordoftheFins