---

---

Alfie was on down on his knees now. From his cracked lips, the heat of his breath smothered the misty cell bars. It was relief, to imagine that they could be so easily torn and ripped apart from each other. Captain Thrax, was just beyond those iron bars. Although the Sheriff does not appear to be the man who indulges in senseless murder, depending on what side one is on, determines whether or not one believes killing Thrax is senseless. Although, in such a desperate situation for the Overseers, Reno Wylde seems like the one man that they can render any hope in, Alfie is hesitant to do so. Everyone has their own sense of "justice", a type of perspective that can contradict what is assumed.

How moral and righteous in Reno's mind would have it seemed if suddenly he triggered a bullet straight through Thrax's heart. The Sheriff could say it was a quick death, a merciful death. In his eyes, he could supposedly believe that he was saving Thrax from torment by those like Theo who set themselves on a revenge quest. But the Overseers did not need a savior, because they were survivors. And Alfie was determined to carry both Thrax and O'Hare on his shoulders, crawling through hell, if that was what it would take to survive.

"Did I say too much? Annoy you... maybe?" Lieutenant turned his torso towards Lily. "Perhaps so..." Yes, Lieutenant taunted the convicts from the start, but prior to then he honestly admitted his own sense of being scared to the Corporal. Words were his only source of a defensive mechanism in the his state of fear. "Lily... I'm sorry it seemed like I was... only making things... worse."

As he apologized to the Corporal, a bundle of black strains from his hair hung down against his forehead, no longer slicked back and combed neatly. No, because during all of this, every since they were just put inside the cell, Alfie could not help but give into the bad habit of his amidst any sort of uneasiness, it was fidgeting with his hair. His outward appearance resembled his inward anxieties. "I would never mean to get us in any trouble... I guess I was just sc--- Ah... nevermind... Yeah no... No, I was scared and a little angry... It was hate and fear... I acted... rash."

”We’re all on edge, Lieutenant, don’t be too hard on yourself. I know I was extremely tense a little while ago, but it was only out of concern for our safety. You know how unpredictable and unstable those people are; especially their leader.”

Lily stood up to pace around the room, the same feeling of dread since their capture still present. However, she did her best to not let it show in front of her superiors. She then walked over to where Lieutenant Vanderbilt knelt and joined him with her back against the bars. Witnessing young Alfie display such high level of distress didn’t help her feel any better, but for the moment, they only had each other to rely on.

”Offensively speaking, we’re at an extreme disadvantage…” she paused to look at the Lieutenant, part of her eager to push back the strands of his hair which had fallen out of place but immediately telling herself it was beyond inappropriate. But they bothered her nonetheless… ”but what if we find a way to blindside them? It’s extremely risky but if we agree to do everything they say, who’s to tell what they’ll do after they’re done with us?”

"You are right... that I do believe, Lily." Even as she positioned herself sitting against the bars besides him, the Lieutenant remained on his knees. Cooperation, he was willing to follow with it, since his submission may secure any sort of stable, sensible survival for Thrax and Lily. As for his own life, he was not sure how future circumstances will be ruled out. For it seemed that retrieving the Overseer ship was a vanguard matter. Whereas, Alfie knew that it was extremely possible, concerning the marriage alliance between MacGilios and Callahan, Theo may wish to gain further his wife's favor by allowing her to decision what be done of the Lieutenant. "But, I sincerely hope that there will always be an us... That these hell hounds muzzle their razor teeth before ripping to shreds the unity of us hawks."

"I hope so too," she said, closely considering what Alfie was saying. "But, keep your chin up. We have to remember that even after we're long gone, our history will live on for future generations. We just have to make sure we're painting a favorable picture."

Lily looked away for a moment, her mind drifting to a future she often imagined; that of the human population living in harmony and solidarity. At the moment, such idea was too far out of anyone's grasp, but hopefully a change for the better would come during her lifetime, although the chances of such thing occurring were extremely slim. "We will have to try our best..." she whispered, the statement not necessarily aimed at the Lieutenant.

The Overseers spent an entire year stationed on the lunar base before gaining a leave to return back to home. Even surrounded by the devices like the holo-television that kept them connected to Collective space, a year, floating in the stars can become lonely because nothing can replace organic, raw human contact. In moments like those, the formalities of rank seem to dissolve, leaving the three Overseers to be mere family. And currently, it felt like another one of those moments.

And then it suddenly occurred to Alfie, the last fondest memory he had with Thrax and Lily before any word of the aggressive decay was uttered...

---

There was laughter, banter, overall joy after they were successful in shipping off the next order of crops to the Collective. They were seated in the base's lounge, a room whose most distinct feature was the wide stretch observatory window that gave any viewer an open view of both the moon's craters and the open vastness of outer space. After a game of pool with Thrax winning, the three of them were rested against the red sofa with a bottle of Thrax's favorite dark rum resting against the coffee table. As for background music, the stereo there lowly played new electronica hits with the occasional trap song.

"I am so not a lightweight...," Alfie laughed in denial while in response to Lily when she teased him about his physical ease to drunkenness with just a couple of sips. "In fact, I could not only out drink you, but also Thrax... Okay, maybe not Thrax. But definitely you, Lily."

"Come on! You are light as a feather!" Lily laughed, jokingly giving Alfie a quick jab on the arm, she herself feeling the effects of the alcohol as well. "But be careful what you wish for, because now you have to prove you can out-drink me."

Lily leaned forward to grab the bottle of rum off of the table. She unscrewed the cap and poured some for herself and some for Alfie.

"Would you like to toast to miracles? Because that's what you need right now," she continued, placing the bottle back on the table.

"Ha, really? Watch me make you eat your words-- well, I guess it's more like drink your words," He lifted the shot glass right against his mouth, eyes quickly darting over at Thrax. Alfie never normally drank, because, well, Lily was in fact right about him being a lightweight. Drunk Alfie was quite hilarious to witness, usually in Thrax's presence, the Lieutenant always acted so professional.

After shooting the rum down, Alfie cheered, "Woo! Ha, ha, ain't slowing down now, Lils." Grabbing the bottle, this time Alfie pours his own glass before letting the secound shot sink down and against his lips. "Hold up, not done yet." Like the time before, Alfie yet again poured his own drink, except now with the alcohol really kicking in, he leaves a little spill when filling the glass up. "What--... Wait, I'm NOT drunk... Nah... Nope." The third shot tips upside down by the flick of Alfie's wrist. "Boom! Bam! Boom! Your turn!--" Alfie falls against the sofa's back cushion, reclining with his arm resting around Thrax's shoulders. While the Captain smoked, Alfie's head slouched against Thrax's chest.

Lily made a face as she downed her own drinks, keeping up with Alfie but briefly regretting it. She was sure she could out-drink him, but going down that path wasn't necessarily a pleasant experience.

"Three for three!" she announced upon finishing her last shot, carelessly slamming her glass on the table in front of her as if it wasn't made out of glass. She then looked over at Alfie who appeared to be comfortable using Thrax like his own personal pillow. The boy was hilarious when drunk.

"I think it's past your bedtime, kid."

Lily pulled him off Thrax, who had an undecipherable look on his face yet still remained silent. "What do you say we call it a night, leave the tie-breaker for some other time?"

Alfie glanced up at Lily as she pried him from off the Captain. And just as he was about to respond to her, Alfie's throat tightened as he felt bile ascend from up his GI tract. Quickly Alfie pushed Lily back and sprinted towards the nearest restroom down the hall.

The sounds of regret could be distantly heard from the men's room...

Alfie did not remember much from that night, yet he remembered everything the day after. The Lieutenant awoke from his bed, hearing the sound of the lounge's television, "Breaking News! Aggressive Decay Outbreak!"

---

Alfie's brow furrow because of a memory he wished to forget. It felt so unfair that he could only barely remember the drinking game, the last fondest memory he had with Lily and Thrax, but he could recall every detail about the day after, the day the Aggressive Decay first drove fear into every citizen connected to Collective Space.

Alfie pressed his head against the cell bars, eyes closed and lips curling downwards in a frown. "Lily... Would it have been better if we... were never Overseers? If we all died like the rest of Collective Space? At least there, we would have died infected. But here... our deaths likely mean executions... or the result of the excess of torture."

"Being tortured and killed is a worst-case scenario, yes, but that doesn't mean it's set in stone. Given the choice, I'd much rather take a shot to the back of the head here than die of infection up there." Lily then got up, extending a hand out to the Lieutenant so he could get to his feet as well.

"But let's not dwell on that, okay? What's done is done and there isn't really anything we can do but hope for the best and put up a hell of a fight if it becomes necessary."

She gave him a slight smile, hoping to pull him out of his depressive state

His fist curled around her palm, using her arm's muscle to manuever his body sitting next to hers. Through the faintest of whispers, Alfie admits, "Lily... you're the reason why I do... even when it's not necessary."

---

First, it was a crisp clean breath of air inhaled as he planted one foot after the other. The beat of his heart matched the rhythm of the war drums. Except, no, these were not war drums, not tonight. With his eyelids sliding over the blue irises, he slightly swayed his head in the direction of these vanguard drummers. There was no doubt that they were combatants, pounding to the musical existence purposed to honor the majesty of their king.

The way everyone stood before the groom, rendering him their undivided attention while walking down the aisle, made Theo feel as if he won a war, like he some kind of hero. Raising his right fist, Cassie's palm was curled around his wrist. This was to symbolize her as his right-hand. To allow her to accompany him as he approached the arch, was an act to honor the second-in-command and to display her blessing in the superior's decision. Declan will do the same to the Renaissance, unless of course her right-hand forbade to give her his blessing.

With Cassie at such a close proximity to Theo, she could sense something... not right. Although he wore what appeared to be a neutral straight face, she could only barely hear beneath the sound of the drums, his rapid, nervous breathing and notice the slight shaking of his arm. Cassie could likely feel his accelerated pulse with her hand pressed against the vein in his wrist. It was fear blended in foreign forms of anxiety, it was rare to ever sense Theo's heart accelerating due to something other than adrenaline. But what was he scared of?

Once reaching the wedding arch, Cassie loosen and released her grip on Theo, retreating behind the arch but still only a few feet away from the Spartan. Now, Theo stood by the wedding officiant, a muse, as most marriages are orchestrated by the faction responsible for the festivities of Churchill.

The sun was setting, Theo could not help but be reminded of when the sun rose just that very morning, how he was just so confident then. Where is that confidence now? Then, he was able to just so easily scoop her up into his arms, twice. Though now, Theo could not help but repeatedly adjust his tuxedo, trying to force some comfort while reminding himself that he did not look like an overgrown child playing dress up.

Soon enough, the drums stopped...

The distinct whine of horsehair across stretched metal string bellowed into the still pulsing air, as an orchestra of violin, viola, cello, and bass cued in upon the last beating of the drums. A delicate timbre danced off the hairs of the audience gathered around Colony Square, many dressed in as well of apparel as they could manage, though it was quite obvious that a fair number of the Muses were better suited than most, thanks to Madame Saint-Claire's endeavors. Were it not the Renaissance's own wedding, many would argue that Madame had dressed the most lavishly, with a great billowing blue gown pushing outwards around her, forcing those seamstresses who stood beside her to stand a tad bit further, leaving the Madame with much more room so close to the wedding arch.

As the droning of the single chord grew and flourished, faces began to turn toward the mouth of the aisle, each one peering for a glance at the bride. A thousand of them were gathered there, each cramped between the aisle and each side of the street, some stood atop roofs, others watched from windows, even a couple who leaned from a balcony above the colony's lone casino, Jack of All Trade. Each one gazed to the rear of the aisle, the long white satin walkway stretching to where, now, stood the Renaissance.

The dress had been made from a mix of the finest crimson and silver silk ever spun by the seamstresses, perfectly fit around Isabel's body in masterful tailoring, modest in its display of her snow-white skin, though still accentuating the curves of her physique in a near-provocative manner. The train of the dress spread far behind the Renaissance by several yards, which was kept up from the ground by a single younger bridesmaid, who was surprisingly dressed delicately, as well. Isabel's hair had been unbound from its tight bun in which it was usually kept, flowing down to the edges of her shoulder blades; dark, wavy, shining, beautiful. Perhaps the only physical trait which had been left untouched from earlier that day was by the mask she wore, though it looked to have been polished and carefully treated to look as if it had just been crafted.

Though she kept her arm low, it could still be seen as they walked that Declan's hand was gingerly gracing Isabel's open right palm, symbolizing in the same fashion the importance of his position beside her as they walked. Isabel's mind churned and moiled, the tea she had drank only moments before already seeming to wear off, doing little to pacify her cascading thoughts.

It had seemed to be a great while to her before they had arrived at the end of the aisle when Declan removed his grasp of Isabel's arm, leaving the young bride to walk the few short steps before she stood beside her groom, such a great height above her. In that short time, the strings of the orchestra were drowned out by a sudden rush of thoughts to the girl's mind, a festering of untouched ghosts suddenly jumping to the forefront, jabbing at her with a vile hatred.

You'll never find love.

Just then, Isabel blinked, a strange numbness jumping into her head as all of the thoughts seemed to ease and drip away. She turned her head to gaze up at Theo, who had seemed so confident prior to their parting, yet now stood in a shrunken manner, though it wouldn't have appeared obvious to those who weren't standing as close to the Spartan as she was. She was perplexed then, in that moment, though perhaps the mask upon her face had covered her confusion, but the feeling was cast aside as she stared again into his eyes, and she spoke softly to him,

"You would give me your heart..."

There was a lull in the orchestra, before finally, the music ceased, and there were no other sounds to be heard, but one, by Theodore.

"And so I give you mine."

With his jaw tightened, teeth clamped over each other and not lip moving, Theo squeezed the single sentence from his throat, "I will honor that..." To anyone at distance, even the approaching officiant would only have heard grunts from the vanguard, yet with Isabel at such a close proximity, his words were audible enough to be received accurately.

"We have been invited here today to witness and celebrate the uniting in marriage of Renaissance Iseabal MacGilios and Spartan Theodore Tobias Callahan. They are taking the first step of their new beginning-- their life together..."

As the well-suited officiant eloquently recited his introduction, the reality of this bond between the two factions morphed and transformed into the personal bond between two people- a man and woman, intertwined through marriage. The very voice of this officiant blurred from Theo's ears as he could not resist the battling thoughts that bubbled in his head. These thoughts considered an action that would prove to Isabel his declared honor, yet it may sacrifice a portion of the respect the vanguards have for their king...

"Spartan Theodore Callahan," Just as the officiant called his name, Theo retained focus on the wedding, tearing him away from his wandering thoughts. "Do you take Renaissance Iseabal MacGilios to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?"

The most interesting part of this ceremony was Theo being asked these questions. Documents and contracts were already signed to promise and declare this alliance, yet this wasn't just an alliance. It was a marriage, something that allowed Theo and Isabel to unite their factions beyond just their lifetime, since this meant that the two could create an offspring that would lead the two factions further to unity, just as his or her mother and father did. In fact, this marriage makes it possible for Theo and Isabel to function like a royal family, even to the point that their descendants may only distantly remember when their was a separation between vanguard and muse.

Yet this ceremony was not about dominance, control, and power, a document could simply declare that. This ceremony imitated one that many rehearse in declaration of love. It was a wedding, an artificial means to generate an authentic emotion. Love, did he feel that yet? Not yet, but loyalty. Does he feel that now? Yes. He will give her his heart, and so she will give him hers. Yes, they have loyalty, thus they will be bound for love-- with every part him, he believes that.

"I do."

"Renaissance Iseabal MacGilios, do you take Spartan Theodore Callahan to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

She hadn't thought much of it, having only mimicked Theodore with those two simple words, yet as they eased their way from her lips and made passage into the air, Isabel felt the rest of the world slip from her focus, her mind shifting away once again to deep, dark thoughts. She remembered disgusted slurs, absolute abhorrence, spiteful stares that would stab past her as if she were a vicious animal. In a moment when all was meant to be a part of happiness, the Renaissance thought only of being enveloped in hatred, sickened by it, swaying just slightly on her feet before steadying herself in recognition of her surroundings. Carefully she swept away each thought, replacing herself in the moment, each time drifting back again to another time of darkness, until finally there were no more memories to bring forward in her mind, and she once again stood in a blank trance, tilting her head just so to stare up at Theodore's own gaze. For a moment then, she felt a sort of warmth fill her chest, which she couldn't help but reply to with a smile.

"They have formalized the existence of the bond between them with words spoken. Therefore, it is my pleasure to now pronounce them husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride!"

And so it came time to confront the very action that seeded fright in him. What he wished to do could gain respect from Isabel, yet disrespect from his faction. The vanguards would assume, and perhaps even accuse their king of grovelling to the muses. But was he even a king at all if constantly in fear of what his own vanguards may slander about? No, he was purposed to ensure the security of the colony - as for how he chose to honor his wife, that was up to him. This wedding, this entire day, was not a day about Muse and Vanguard. It was about Isabel and Theodore, two people who happened to rule over a faction. Whatever the Vanguards may assume, it no longer mattered to him. Because in the end Theo acted by the will of his passion. It is the reason why he can become impulsive, yet heartfelt.

Theo dropped to one knee, taking Isabel's right hand and slowly drew his lips upon it, kissing her as if he were a loyal subject addressing royalty. Then in that moment, it was quite ironic to reminisce that just during sun rise, he spoke of giving Isabel a real kiss. To the Vanguards, nothing was more unreal than to witness their towering commander and king fall to his knee below the Renaissance queen. The faces of these soldiers turned from comfort to frowns of disgust or disapproval in reaction to such controversy.

But as for the Muses, it was a surprise, to say the least. Though perhaps, a good one, a surprise that proved Theo being capable of humility. This was something no one would forget about, especially not the Muses, as near the wedding arch an artist stood present, recording the scene with a stroke of his brush. To Theo, this was a matter no longer concerning submission and dominance, but sacrifice; showing not the Muses, but to Isabel, that he is humble.

A stunned expression fell over the Renaissance's visage, pulling at the simper which had previously been fixed upon her lips, tugging them open in a subtle astonishment. Below her now kneeled the same man who, throughout their meeting that same day, had flaunted his size and strength, yet before the entire colony, was showing a docility that had perhaps never surfaced before. Though she couldn't help but feel flattered by her groom's demure, Isabel's mind viciously tore her trance away.

This will not bode well. Closing her gawked jaw, Isabel swiftly fixed a feigned smile in an attempt to allay any discussion from the other colonists, of which there was sure to be plenty among them in whispered words.

Theo was not sure if she approved of his action, or if she disapproved of it. Her expression seemed to accept it, yet he was still worried because there was the chance that Isabel found it inappropriate. Theo rose to his feet, wishing to kiss her again, this time either on the lips or at least on the cheek. But since he was not sure if Isabel was disappointed in him, Theo decided to simply keep silent, hoping she had anything to say while he folded his arms, ready to escort her down the aisle.

Graciously, the newly-wed wife raised an arm to grasp at her husband's elbow, while the officiant announced the consummation of their marriage. Staring out at the crowd, Isabel watched as the Muses gathered around applauded in praise, many of which she had suspected to be deterred from any celebration of the event, which made her smile. Yet, there was a strangeness in the air, as if something weren't quite right. Some Vanguards were applauding, yet those who were lacked a deal of enthusiasm, and what seemed to be a greater number had yet to lift their hands at all, some pocketing them in a sort of protest. She felt Theodore's arm tense, clear to her that he had noticed it, too. Silently, they strode back down the aisle together, Cassandra and Declan following shortly behind them, leaving the room needed for the bridesmaid to carry the bride's train.

---

---

The Painting Room was at the rear of the Theatre, purposefully sectioned away at the end of a hall between the other more delicate hand crafts and the aural composition halls, to ensure there was a near absolute silence to be had for those who were busily brushing their conceptions onto canvas. It was here that one was left to think by themselves, and it wasn't uncommon for the Muses here to be driven mad by their own minds. Perhaps that was the appeal of the place for some, for it was only in complete silence they could finally let themselves think, lest the chaotic sounds from the world outside further jumble their scattered thoughts.

At the center of the room, there sat a lone painter, gingerly dipping his brush between the pool of water he had beside him and the various array of acrylic he had spread across his palette, tapping away at his canvas. Before him stood his subject, the pair of newly-weds, which he would glance to occasionally to study before returning back to his work.

Theo was posed facing slightly side-ways with his left arm wrapped around Isabel's waist. Though with his right hand, Theo repeatedly kept shifting from his hand resting in his pocket, to readjusting the collar of his tux. But seemingly enough, the tight-fitting suit no longer bothered him, well, not as much as their wedding ceremony did, more accurately his approach to kissing his bride. Theo could tell the artist was becoming quite annoyed with his fidgeting, though Theo was extremely worried about what Isabel thought. All this night, Theo hoped that kissing her the way he did, would please and honor her, yet now he feared that he did the exact opposite of that.

With each adjustment of Theo's collar, Isabel's own jaw tightened, knowing that sooner or later they would have to speak of what had occurred. The walk to the Theatre was shrouded in silence, and had stung at the front of her mind with every step. There was clearly something eating at Theodore, and Isabel knew fully well what it was, but struggled to find the words to begin.

Finally, the words fumbled forth, feebly carrying their message with them. "I'm, ehm, flattered you decided to wear the suit," her mind was instantly flooded with regret. How could she have started with something so trivial as a suit? Granted, the Madame had tailored it herself, though Isabel was certain there was some sort of ploy behind her sewing it so tightly, whatever it was.

"Oh," Theo wished Isabel said that sooner, like when it was a concern to him before he knelt down and kissed her hand. "Eh, thank you," he whispered back, holding his smile for the picture. "Um-- Isabel... Can we... can we talk?" Theo broke away from his pose, sliding his arm off of Isabel. "I just need to know... What I did back there-- Was that wrong to do-- it's not something traditionally done... Did I ruin the ceremony for you?"

Isabel cleared her throat, placing a gentle hand around the Spartan's wrist, pulling it back into place around her waist as the old painter behind the canvas peered around with a rather miffed expression. "Theodore..." she let herself trail off, pulling together the words of her next sentence. "I... Don't know how I should feel about it... The way your Vanguard reacted, the way they stared... Theodore, you honored me, in front of the whole of Churchill... I'm touched, truly, yet..." Her words began to strain in anguish and confusion, her expression turning forlorn and grim.

"I..."

She pulled away from him, storming toward the exit into the hallway with the back of her hand gracing her lip, a tear beginning to stream down her pale cheek. The oaken door swung open, and she quickly passed through, the tail of her dress pulling along behind her.

Theo did not want to be assertive, aggressive, the way he was in her war room. His skin was squeezed against a suit he has surrendered to for her sake. And now his wife was fleeing from him-- instantly, it was as if time itself slowed down, and as for sound, he heard no other but the sudden soft sounds of his humming. He specifically only hummed through the intensity of one emotion, and this time it was not rage. In sorrow, more accurately, when experiencing loss, humming was his means of breathing. To cancel out all commotion, in exchange for silence through a memorized symphony borrowed from a childhood lullaby, the one his mother once sung to him. The earliest memory of family was the only resource he knew possible to save him from the ever consuming void of loneliness. The void of loneliness, it acts like oblivion- the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening, almost as if you do not exist, because no one identifies that you do. You only identify something or someone, if you care about it. And though his conscious mind could not understand these concepts deeply, Theo felt them, internally.

Even as he hummed, the familiar lyrics of his mother's lullaby was now replaced by Isabel's words, the ones that swore her heart be given to him. If Theo believed she was lying to him, he would not be sad at this very moment, nor would he have said, 'I do' under the wedding arch. Instead, that drew him to only one conclusion, he lost her heart. Why Theo lost it, he did not know. But neither was Theo going to allow his question to be left unanswered. If anything, he at least deserved a reason.

Bursting into a sprint, suit began busting at the seams. He chased her, but he was not charging at her. No, because as soon as he was within earshot of her, he cried out, "Wait! Isabel, let me at least know-- Did I-- No-- I did-- I did this to us, didn't I?"

Already toward the end of the hallway, Isabel turned her head to stare back at her husband, glistening streaks flowing across her cheeks and dripping down onto her chest. For a moment, she stopped, staring back at Theo, her thoughts racing as she thought of how scared she was for the future. All in one day, she had become overwrought with uncertainty and terror. Now it finally bubbled to the surface, and she only thought to flee lest it be seen.

"It isn't about what you did," her voice was strained and her words cracked. There was a pause in her speech, letting her next few words sink into Theodore's thoughts. "It is about what will happen next." She turned away, leaving the Spartan to stand alone in the hall, the seams of his suit having split and torn, the clarity he had sought being cast into ambiguity, stirring up a biting, fierce bitterness inside of him.

---

---

Not much after Cass's short scrap with Carmen, she was informed that Theo summoned her presence. Which due to the sudden absence of the bride and groom at the reception, this already seemed unusual. Theo was with Cap'n at the edge of the Carter, a location that stood at the very center of vanguard territory. When Cass last saw Theo, he was dressed in a tux, yet now he was wearing his normal attire, cargo pants, combat boots, and his dog-tag. He stood with his back slightly facing his second-in-command. His posed seemed awfully ridged and more over on the defensive, though his fists remained balled up. Cap'n stood a distance away from the now boiling king, with a worried expression.

With Theo's jaw tightened he spoke behind gritted teeth, "Were you thinking of abandoning your duty of being my second-in-command by leaving Churchill?" He asked a question, yet his tone and inflection made it sound like a threat. He seemed awfully calmer than usual when furious, yet it was always more dangerous to watch Theo harness his anger rather than release it.

And so her secret was out. Cassie looked over at Cap'n before mouthing the words bad move to him while shaking her head. She was going to tell Theo...eventually, but she wanted to do it on her own terms to lessen the impact the news would have on him. But now she was stuck, and she could only hope she would be able to distance herself from his wrath as soon as possible. Not because she was scared of what he might do to her, but rather, to avoid him changing his mind about her in any way possible.

"I--I'm not abandoning you...they just need me out there more than you need me here. Theo, you have Isabel now, and while she won't exactly take over my role, she'll be here to help you out to the best of her abilities."

Cassie slowly walked over to him, her mind somewhat clouded given her slightly drunken state. She clutched a handful of material from the side of her dress to alleviate her tension as she went.

"I may not be here to fulfill the duties as a Second-in-Command for the time being, but I'll still be a Vanguard."

"How noble of you..," Theo uttered sarcastically."But yes, you are right. You will still be a vanguard, but a vanguard under my command," as Theo adjusted all emphasis on the word, 'my', he dared a menacing scowl at Cap'n. "Which means I tell you where to go." It was as if all of the humility Theo was ever capable of showing had been drained clean since Isabel. He was now aggressively assertive, hostile with every word.

"Of course it'll be under your command, I've always been beneath someone and it's not like I'll be given the chance to do things my way!" Cassie shouted, realizing that she was going into somewhat of a sore subject for the both of them. But she didn't care at the moment, nor did she care that Cap'n was just a few feet away, bearing witness to one of the many intense arguments between the top two members of the vanguards. But that didn't matter much; it's not like they were known for their patience anyway. "But you can quit your fucking power trip because it's obvious I'm not going anywhere now!"

Cassie hurriedly walked past Theo, intentionally bumping him on the side as she went to stand a distance away from him, her arms crossing and her back to both men once she reached the edge.

"This is your fault,.." at first, that claim seemed like it was directed towards Cass, especially since she was the last person he was speaking to. Yet when Theo finished his sentence, it was obvious who bore the accusation, "now walk the plank, you failed jolly-rancher son of a bitch!"

Though the man is a big hulking mass of muscle, Theo is faster than he initially looks, because it only took a matter of seconds for Theo to charge Cap'n with both hands pushed forward till the First Combatant was forced off of the edge of the Crater. His body rolled against the dirt hill till he finally hit the bottom of the dueling pit. As soon as Cap'n looked up with his one good eye, there was Theo positioned in a stance that clearly meant he was ready for fight. As it being his first instinct when in battle, Cap'n unsheathed his cutlass, though quickly tossed it aside saying, "Forget the blade-- fuck it, want t' act like a star-buzzin' bitching blackhole slave driver, then I'll bloody you up you wit' 'tis steel hook and the bare bones of my knuckles!"

"No, stop!" Cassie was quickly rushing to place herself between her fellow vanguards in order to prevent a bloody fight. This was ridiculous, and she slowly came to the realization that she had been the biggest idiot for pissing off Theo, especially on his damn wedding night.

"We can't fight, not like this, not each other..." She hoped she was making sense as the words poured out because oddly enough, all the arguing wasn't sobering her up. In fact, it was doing quite the opposite. "Don't you see what's going on? We're right where the enemy wants us; whether that's the Overseers or one of us down here, we can't give them the satisfaction of losing to ourselves."

Cassie suddenly started shaking. Maybe she was cold because her dress wasn't necessarily the warmest article of clothing she owned, or maybe their situation had gotten so intense that it elicited such response from her. But either way, it was clearly visible that she was struggling to keep still.

To Theo, Cass did not appear to be excessively drunk, perhaps slightly tipsy, though not to the point of rocking back and forth like she did. Witnessing her in such a weakened state, was something that just did not feel right to Theo. She was Cassandra Voss, for years, before Theo rose to the title of Spartan, this woman was of rank higher than him, she commanded him, she was stronger than him. Though, in her own ways, she still is, Cap'n has always known that. And now, as Theo realizes that his second-in-command would leave the comfort of the colony to potentially put her life on the line to accomplish what can be done on the field, he sees her strength in the sacrifice, even when he runs to her side, catching her before she can fall.

"C-Cass what's-- tell me exactly how you're feeling," His right arm was wrapped around her back, supporting her up while his left hand held onto her shoulder. In his head he was theorizing any possible reasons for why she would be on the verge of unconsciousness. And then, he panicked when speculating, that just might be on the verge of death.

"Oh shit," he whispered the curse in fear. "Y-You don't think that you were... poisoned, that someone is using you as leverage to force me out of the wedding?"

Cassie thought about it for a moment, her pulse increasing at the possibility that someone could have specifically targeted her to break up Theo and Isabel's marriage.

"No, I don't think so," she finally shook her head, thinking back to when she first got to the wedding ceremony and remembering she grabbed her own drinks. "If they wanted to poison me, they would have had to ruin the entire batch. But hold that thought—" she said, pushing Theo's hand aside as she rushed to the edge to throw up. The woman struggled for a few moments before she could compose herself.

"I think I should go back and get cleaned up. You two play nice now..." she managed to say as she walked away, leaving Theo and Cap'n by themselves.

---

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Cassie headed back to the reception, but not before stopping by her room to brush her teeth and get a quick drink of water. Once she made her way back, she walked over to Reno who was standing by himself.

"Quite the wedding, wouldn't you say?"

"I wouldn't really be able to tell you. Most weddings I've seen were in film." He answered, chuckling a little. "Come on boss lady, I'll walk you home while the rest of the fools party into the night. They don't need a gunslinger or a sheriff right now, and I get the feeling you need a good friend... A bottle of scotch." He put his hand over her shoulders. "Or some vodka, maybe scotch? I dunno. You tell me what you want to find the bottom of and I'll supply it or go find the bastard who can." Reno might have not loved the Vanguard like the rest, but he was always there for his friends. Cass was counted among the few and thus whenever hard times befell them he was ready to assist.

"I hate to break it to you, but you have the worst judgment right now." Cassie laughed, allowing Reno to lead the way. "It wasn't that long ago that I got sick, although I'm not sure what was the cause. Oddly enough though, I actually feel better, even more so than before." She shrugged her shoulders, glad to have someone to talk to and hang out with for the remainder of the evening without any of the drama. "So here's what we'll do. I'll let you pick my poison for the evening, but only if you can promise me that it's one of the best bottles you'll grab."

"Hmm well, if I'm picking I believe tequila since you're having a bad day, and no one has ever been sad while drinking tequila." He smiled and turned to walk backwards in front of her now as he spoke, wearing his usual grin. "So I guess I'm cooking dinner as well? No point in drinking the good stuff if we don't at least try to keep it down." He laughed, spinning just in time to avoid a passing cart. He was constantly aware even when talking to her. "So I finally finished rigging that old juke box in my loft, we can test it tonight while we're drinking. Got a bunch of random records shoved in it so we gotta figure out what's good."

"Wow...drinks, food, and music? If I didn't know any better I'd say we were about to have a date." Cassie looked behind her as they went, coming to the conclusion that leaving the wedding ceremony early was the right call, especially when that meant she could get away from the girl who just a few years ago was going through puberty and was hellbent on making Cassie's life a living hell since then. "Thanks for saving me from that, I needed to get away." She showed Reno her bandaged hand, a small drop of blood soaking through the wrap. "I hope I don't end up with the scars as the only memory of this evening," she went on before realizing the double-meaning of her words. "But anyway, tequila sounds good, can't wait!"

"I dunno about a date Cassie, but call it what you like." He stopped, looking at her hand. "You going to tell me what happened to bust up your hand?" He asked curiously. "Hey now... I promise tonight will be better than that... I know you and the big man are close. I don't like the marriage either as it puts more power between the two." He grumbled and sighed. "I know I'm not prisoner like you all but this is home to me... Only home I've ever known. I just want everyone to get a chance for a life here." He explained as he moved to the small stable with Charlotte waiting inside before he began to remove her saddle.

"It's not so much him that's being problematic, I can always handle that; it's Carmen. I swear she makes it her daily goal to push me over the edge. That is why I punched the living hell out of her..."

Cassie leaned against the fence as she watched Reno work. "But you have admirable intentions for this place, and I appreciate that, you know?"

"Carmen's a kid. She's gonna cause trouble." He answered chuckling. "Same as Dodge used to be a kid." He grunted setting the saddle aside and grabbing a brush, treating Charlotte to a wonderful rub down. "She can be a bitch sometimes and other times, she's as sweet as daisy." He answered as he offered Charlotte a carrot. "She's a Mastermind Cassie, you go by poker rules. Drink only what you trust and be polite, make sure you walk out with more than you entered."

Finishing brushing down Charlotte he chuckled. "I just want a place nice enough to make a home... People here forget that beyond those walls all manner of terrible things go on. No matter how much we food we have, savages out there have more guns and bullets to scavenge. The have each other to eat when it's bad. So we need the Overseers as friends, it's why I stand by peace... No matter how much trouble it gets me." He finished adding a little cream around the Charlotte's eyes to drive away flies. Washing his hands he started up the stairs towards the loft. "Now I do believe we need to start drinking."

"Hey, I'm all for peace," Cassie replied, pointing to herself, "but that doesn't mean I'm a pushover. That's where people make the mistake." She rubbed Charlotte behind the ear, waving goodbye once Reno suggested they start drinking. Cassie followed him upstairs, grabbing the front end of her dress with her good hand so that she wouldn't step on it and trip. At that point, it was very likely that Cassie would make such mistake.

"Back in the good ol' bachelor pad, one of my favorite spots to hang out at." Cassie went straight for the couch and made herself at home, leaning her head on the backrest and closing her eyes. "Please don't make my drink too strong, I have a feeling I'm being a total lightweight tonight."

"I'm just saying the other leaders in the Vanguard... They like battle. They hate Overseers. Worse is that the Muses are unstable at the best of time and now our factions have to play nice? I'm sorry but I just don't see this working and I'm worried what Theo will do to keep his wife happy." He sighed as he poured them both a glass of tequila from an expensive, well-maintained and varied shelf of alcohol. "Forgive me but I trust a Mastermind more than a Muse... At least with a Mastermind you know they make the smart moves... Muses are emotional and hard to predict."

He sat, down picking up an acoustic guitar he'd salvaged and tuning it slightly as he sipped his drink. "What about you Cass? What are your plans in this mess, since I've decided to stick my neck out and stand right in between Theo and putting bullets in the Overseers."

"You do make a good point regarding the Masterminds, but now I have to take a step back and let Theo and Isabel run things even if I disagree with them. That's what both factions decided, and I have to be supportive, otherwise it'd make things worse." Cassie took a sip of her drink, momentarily cringing as the liquid made its way down her throat. "But regarding the Overseers... I say we only match them in violence, not surpass them. If we want to better our relations, we have to refrain from behaving like the savages we're made to look."

Cassie had always been one to turn to violence more often than not, but her recently adopted diplomatic approach was growing in her and she started to truly believe in the old saying "Beat them with kindness".

"Heh. You guys aren't savages... Far from it. I would know." He answered as he poured more booze for himself, putting the bottle between them on the table. He turned on the juke box beside the chair and it picked a record and began to play. He sat the guitar aside for the time being as music filled the room. "Yeah but... I dunno, something spooks me about Isabel, something's off about a girl like that. I'd just be careful, woman seems the jealous type and if you cross her it might come back ten fold."

"Hmm, yeah, she's too...calm isn't she?" Cassie made herself even more comfortable by slipping off her shoes and tucking her legs underneath, placing her arm on the backrest to lean against it. She finished her drink but played around with the empty glass, the effect of the alcohol starting to settle in. "How does that old saying go? You gotta be careful with the quiet ones? But I'm not interested in causing any sort of trouble...that ship has long sailed."

Cassie then leaned forward to pour herself more tequila. She took a small sip and nodded her head in approval. "Still tastes great." She leaned back again, this time against Reno's arm. "Here's to their happiness," she said, raising the glass in the air before gulping down its content.

"Yeah... To happiness." Reno added, knocking back his drink as well. "Did I tell a bunch of the townfolk damn broke into the jail? They had ropes and wanted to lynch the Overseers." He chuckled at the thought. "As if that would solve anything." He poured more tequila his buzz returning now. "So Dodge goes out there with Calico holding rifles, telling them to leave. They mock and yell at them... Fairbanks walks with a fucking grenade right into the middle of the crowd and pulls the pin." He grins.

"Apperantly they all screamed and ran for cover. Dropped everything they had on them too." He chuckled. "It was a fucking dud. She walked right back inside and started on her paper work." He smiled again. "The woman is crazy, but damn it's fun to watch her work." He added as he put an arm over Cassie's shoulders. "Hey... You can crash here tonight if you need." He added setting slowly taking his guns off his belt and setting them on the table. "I know it sucks to be alone... Did it most of my life."

Cassie chuckled, genuinely amused by Reno's story. "I can't believe she did that! I mean, I can, but I can't. You've got quite the handful, I'll tell you that much... But it's a good thing, otherwise, how would you be able to deal with the same crazies trying to break into the jail?" Cassie watched as Reno disarmed and put his gun on the table, and she did the same with her empty glass.

"And I'll stay as long as you give me something comfortable to change into," Cassie replied.

"You know where my closet is if you want to borrow something... And yes the hat is off limits." He teased, knocking back another drink. "Yeah... But we're family. We're all broken and bad people... Of course I'm the worst of the bunch." He added in a slightly strange tone knocking back yet another drink as he poured one more. "I'm probably the worst person in Churchill." He spoke as if commenting on his own failures. He never talked much about life before he arrived there, and obiviously he was in a different mood tonight. She might be able to pry more out of the tight-lipped cowboy with a little more liquor and some well placed words.

"You're talking nonsense, kid. From what I've seen you're a great person." Cassie padded him on the knee before she stood up to walk to his closet. "And I might steal your hat just because you were extremely harsh on yourself just now."

Cassie walked off after giving Reno a smile. She went up to his closet and didn't waste any time in picking out one of the first items she saw: a black, button-down shirt. She took off her dress and shoes before she slipped on her pajama for the evening, wondering what the night still had planned for them.

A few moments later, Cassie walked back to Reno barefooted across the cold floor. She took her seat next to him again, her head starting to spin just a little bit. "For the record, this current you is fine, so don't change," she emphasized, jokingly poking him on his side.

"I dunno about great... But being here? With you all? Makes it home. I wanna do right cause you all deserve that." He answered, setting down his cup and grinning as he turned to her. "Besides, if I do change it'll be because I'm settling down." He stopped for a moment looking at her. "What about you Cass? You ever think you'll try to settle down?" He smiled, looking away at the door. "I mean... I grew up outside these walls... Hidden in a hole with my parents, most of my life... I just... I just want to have a life where I don't have to fear everything around me is out to kill me."

"Settling down will do you great given your history, but I'm not too sure about me. I mean yeah, it sounds nice, but from what I've heard it's hard to put up with me sometimes." Cassie smiled, and an unintentional chill traveled down her spine, causing her to shiver without warning. "If given the choice though, I'd go for it. There's no better feeling than safety... I mean, knowing someone will be right by your side through thick and thin is something I think the majority of us long for."

Cassie then stared at Reno, wondering what he was thinking at that moment for some reason.

"Well... I got you and the Sentinels... So I guess that's the first step." He turned, looking at her for a long moment. "You know I always got your back, right?" He said looking into her eyes for a moment before he leaned in to hug her. While it wasn't rare for Reno to display affection, it was different now. "You guys... You guys made me feel welcome... Forget about what I am... You especially, Cass. You always welcomed me without a question." He sighed. "And you never questioned things even when you had the right to... So thank you... For being wonderful and kind to the man who probably didn't deserve it."

Cassie returned the hug, feeling genuine sympathy for Reno since he appeared to be extremely vulnerable at that moment. "No need to thank me...you're good to me and I simply return the favor. And just so you know, that's the way it will continue to be. You're a good man, Reno Wylde." Cassie then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, smiling and giving his hand a light squeeze to reassure she meant what she said.

"I don't know about good, Cass... You ever stop to think about how long I was out there? My parents left me in a bunker to lead tribals away. I was sixteen when they just vanished from my life." He paused, taking her hand, eyes unfocused as if it all played out before him. "I left to find them... Just me and a couple of guns." He chuckled now, an unnerving slightly cruel chuckle.

"First time I killed was my third day traveling... Out of water, I saw a tribal dragging his loot through the wastes. Took my pistol and hid... When he passed I shot him, missed his heart." He moved now from her as if by instinct, pouring a drink right up to the rim of the glass and knocking it back. "Caught him in the lungs, bastard went down dust and with the punctured lung it made so he couldn't fight back as I looted him for everything he had."

"I only had five bullets... So I left him bleeding in the ash, didn't think twice about it." He blinked. "Before I came to Churchill I had killed fifty eight people. Some were women, some barely more than teenagers. Didn't matter, the world out there hated me, wanted to eat me... Yet here at night I wake up in a cold sweat, gun in my hand. Slight noises make me jump for a gun... That world made a monster, Cass." He turned back, meeting her eyes. "The others... They don't know... Maybe the Overseers? I told the old captain about it when I got signed on to the colony."

"I still go there sometimes, on quiet nights... Or when Theo tells me to get out of the bar." He spoke. "I never found my parents... So I go out there and think... Remember what made me and look for the only people who ever showed me any good in the world." Reno spoke, telling her all. Cass finally knew what kind of man Reno was, and he wasn't some Hollywood style hero. He was a man the who had a deck stacked against him, just like Reno always did, and he won anyway... Except the only prize he got was to keep living in the hell hole that was Earth.

"So you know the truth now. Why I got the nickname Tombstone." He spoke before turning to look at the wall of booze across from them as the jukebox finally finished the album, the room going silent. "I'm the worst criminal in Churchill and the town doesn't even know it." He grabbed the bottle about to drink right from it.

"Hey, no, you've already had enough." Cassie quickly moved forward to grab the bottle from Reno, taking it from his grasp as if it was literally poison before setting it down on the table. "That's um...that's a lot to take in. I'm not judging you for it, it's just that I didn't know you had such an intense past. Honestly no one would be able to figure it out unless you told them, so that means something." Cassie then stayed quiet for a moment, finding the right words to say next. She grabbed her glass for another shot to take the edge off.

"It's not like an urge, right? I mean, do you get any pleasure from it?"

"Killing ain't something I like doing, no." He answered, looking at her. "Guess it speaks to how much I like and trust you... That or I have somehow gotten even more drunk than usual." He gave her one of his usual fun grins. He spoke as if trying to put they fun back on their night, knowing he'd probably already spoiled it.

"Well, I'm glad I'm in your good graces," she joked back, winking at him. "But what do you say we call it a night? I feel that all this drinking is going to make me tired soon."

"Sleep sounds good to me." He answered, slowly getting up before he turned and picked up Cass just to mess with her. "Or were thinking of using my bed for something else?" He asked, slowly bringing them both over to the bed at the back of the room.

Cassie smiled, looking at Reno before she glanced over at the bed. "Hmm, not really, but I guess the responsibility falls on me now to wear you out."

Reno laid her down pressing his lips to hers and flicked off the lights as he climbed into bed with her.

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Though it wouldn't have been as large of an issue to many of the participants in the reception that neither groom nor bride had arrived at the reception precisely as they were supposed to, the lack of punctuality tugged at the Madame's mind, lifting her from the group of posh Muses she had surrounded herself with in a rather brusque manner and pushing her away from the festivities, forcing her toward the Theatre. Araminta Saint-Claire's thoughts were strewn about in confusion as she strode her way down the hall toward the Painting Room, only to arrive at the door, met by the aged man who was now rising from his canvas, the portrait only halfway completed.

"I've just missed them, haven't I?" The Madame's voice was strained from the near panic she had already put herself in, and the gentleman's solemn nod only pushed her away from the scene yet again, her heels clicking furiously against the wooden floorboards as she strode from the Theatre, her mind set toward the one place she knew to find the Renaissance.

---

"Isabel!?" the Madame could hardly maintain her calm composure she had become so accustomed to wearing, letting it fall from her face as the cry of her Renaissance's name echoed through the house.

The Renaissance's home was only a short walk from the Theatre, standing rather overtly alone from the abodes of the rest of the colonists, surprisingly well-built for what materials the colony had to spare when they had begun to construct Churchill into what was now seen. The house was two stories in height, with an attic atop of that, and no basement below. The color scheme was generally a pale blue throughout the house's interior, though the color would shift occasionally to more eccentric, lively shades in some of the more frequented rooms - the living, dining, and entry rooms all fit a similar energy, much brighter and optimistic than many of the rooms surrounding them.

A single staircase led from the entryway to the second floor, which the Madame quickly ascended as she tugged at the frills of her dress - she cursed, for a moment obviously upset with the pomposity of her get-up - and turned, looking down the hallway which had cut into the walls portals to different rooms, each one designed to how the Renaissance saw fit for them to be. As she strode down the dimly lit corridor, the Madame looked from left, to right, then left again, into each of the rooms - private study, studio, bedroom - then to her right once more, looking into the closet, the door to which had been swung open, and a ladder had been unvelied from above, leading into a black expanse. After a brief pause, Saint-Claire finally lifted herself onto the steps of the ladder, pushing herself upward into the darkness.

As she finished her ascent, the Madame turned to face the one source of light in the attic, coming from the opened window from which the sounds of festivities rang in. She gazed about, letting her eyes fall on each upturned and destroyed painting, the canvas on many of them split and torn, paint and tools strewn about the space in a chaotic fervor. Finally, she spotted a red mass hunched over itself next to a blade cast onto the floor. The Madame let a hand fall upon it, and from it rose the tear-stained face of the Renaissance.

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Cassandra had made her way to the house of the Renaissance, though it took her some time to convince the few Muses stationed outside that she was to be let in. After she had finally made it inside, however, the Madame had become another serious obstruction, which took further convincing to finally allow the Vanguard to see Isabel. Cass was led upstairs and into the studio, noticeably bare for what it was intended; the room itself was a white color with a single lamp hanging from above, and had placed at it's center a stand and canvas, which was turned so that one could not see it's painting from the door. From behind the canvas stepped Isabel, dressed incredibly modest in a gray floral dress, which reached down to her feet and wrapped around her ankles.

The Renaissance led the three of them downstairs, entering the living room at the rear of the house. After Madame Saint-Claire spoke quietly to a housemaid, the three of them spread throughout the room, the Madame sitting at the edge of a settee, Isabel in a polished rocking chair, and Cass standing in the middle. Though there was a bit of unease felt between the two Muses as the Vanguard refused to take a seat, they both thought better than to speak of it, until the housemaid arrived just a short moment later, carrying in tea.

"Have a drink, darling, if you'd like," peculiarly, Saint-Claire spoke kindly to Cassandra, pouring a porcelain cup partially full with the steaming liquid, sliding it across the short table toward the Vanguard.

Cassie nodded, whispering a quick "thank you" as she reached for the cup of tea. Maybe it would help to ease the anxiety she was currently experiencing, but she'd nonetheless remain standing.

Taking a long drink from her own decorated teacup, the Renaissance fluttered her eyes close as she set the cup back onto its saucer, lowering it down to her lap. After a swift sigh escaped her lips, Isabel finally let her eyes open, though kept her gaze lowered as she spoke. "So, I understand you want to speak to me about my marriage. Very well," her cold blue eyes lifted to meet Cassandra's before she continued. "What would you have me do about my husband?" Her voice was darkened and serious, which stung out at the air with a sharpened edge.

“Well for one, you can both try to get along. He's not easy, trust me I would know, but we all need this to work. The majority of Churchill depends on you too now." Cassie was becoming slightly irritated that Isabel was being so difficult in attempting to make her marriage work. Did she even care about her people? "If there's anything I can do to help, you just let me know, but you have to swallow your pride and fulfill your duty. That's how it is, and that's how it'll continue to be. It may not be something you want, but you don't have much of a choice."

Cassie took another sip of tea, eyeing the Renaissance as she waited for her to respond, almost as if challenging her. Isabel sat back, letting the curve of the wooden bands of her chair tilt her backwards as she tried to let her nerves ease. "You speak as if I'm at fault for your Spartan's brash behavior," though her words could have been an attack, the way Isabel let them roll from her mouth into the air gave off a strange relaxed tone, as if she were stating the obvious.

"Yet you truly wouldn't be so quick to think that as soon as I go to my husband and apologize for his behavior, then all of our troubles will go away," the Renaissance's gaze drifted about now, not entirely set on one thing to look upon. "I would think you of all people would see what disruption Theodore caused..." absent-mindedly, Isabel grabbed for her tea and took a drink, allowing a brief moment for Saint-Claire to pipe up, "the Vanguard have not taken this lightly, I can assure you. What ensures that there remains a balance of power within your faction? Only the blood of your own comrades. But, just how long can the King truly keep his crown?"

Isabel's eyes broke from their haze and locked onto the Madame, a coldness seeping into their already frozen color. Saint-Claire sat back in her seat, pulling her cup toward her lips to show that she was finished speaking. The Renaissance then reset her gaze to look once again at Cassandra as she spoke, her voice finally seeming to be properly distressed given the circumstances. "What would you have me say to him? What words will make their way past his ears so that he may finally find a meaning in them?"

"Have you even discussed each other's expectations for this marriage?" Cassie spread open her arms as she talked, a sign she was becoming increasingly agitated. "Because that's the first topic you both should have addressed!" Now pacing back and forth, Cassie took a quick glance at Saint-Claire, and she could have sworn the Madame would at the very least like to exchange a few words with her.

"No, you know what? It's fine. If even the sight of him repulses you, there's nothing we can do about that. But let's get one thing straight. You will at the very least pretend that this marriage is working, or we are gonna have some serious problems."

Without a second to spare, Cassie turned to leave the Renaissance's home. On her way out, she deliberately yet delicately placed the teacup on the entryway table before opening the door and shutting it close behind her in a rather brisk manner, leaving both women alone to react. They sat there in silence for a short moment, Isabel gripping the handle of her cup tightly as Saint-Claire sipped gently at her drink, letting the air still to a deafening quiet.

"I swear, it never seems to make much difference what you say to those lot," the Madame placed her teacup and saucer down on the table while she continued. "I do hope that that one doesn't become too great a problem, or I'd hate to have to--"

"Have the handmaiden prepare a bath for me," the Renaissance stood suddenly from her chair, placing her cup quickly beside the Madame's before she strode toward the front of her house, then to the stairs. "I'm going to go see my husband."

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"Hey, Reno!" Cassie jogged up to him to catch up. After an already intense morning, she was glad she had ran into him. But nonetheless, a part of her was somewhat skeptical about their relationship, and that scared her. What if they weren't on the same page? If she didn't have Reno to talk to, then she'd be on her on again, and probably alone for the rest of her life. As strong as she was, she couldn't handle that, no after the night they both shared and the potential it brought forth.

"So I may have convinced Isabel to sort things out with Theo. That's an improvement, right?"

Reno's cigarette hung from his mouth as he moved towards Cass taking her hand with his own, he didn't want last night to have been a one time thing. He knew they shouldn't be embracing openly but alone in a hall should be fine, they were far from prying eyes there. "That might not be enough... Theo murdered Thrax with his bare hands right infront of the man's Lieutenant." He added.

"He did what?" Cassie exclaimed, her voice carrying through the walls. She realized she'd have to go talk to Theo immediately, especially since she'd given him a free pass by assuming that the majority of the problems in his new marriage were due to Isabel.

"Tensions are bad but... We have to let the other two here go eventually and they are going to want payback." He answered, looking at Cassie for a moment. "And now I'm nervous about what's coming or what Theo might do tp keep them from retribution." He sighed and took the cigarette out of his mouth, crushing it with his foot. "By the way... I missed you." He mumbled, still holding her hand blushing slightly.

Cassie stared at Reno as he put out his cigarette and mumbled a few words that despite the strife about to occur, it made her smile nonetheless. "I...missed you too." She gave his hand a light squeeze, and then she remembered something, her expression suddenly displaying an inner conflict not previously present. "I have to go talk to Theo...and Rylan. I had agreed to leave my position for some time and go out into the field. But a lot is happening right now, and we have to figure out what's best for everyone, including us." She paused before she looked into his eyes.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"...I want to go honestly. Walk out of here and spend days riding around just being with you." He sighed. "But I need to be here, Theo needs someone speaking common sense and if need be a lawman to lead a muntiny." He sighed, looking at Cassie. "But I can give you something better than me... Charlotte likes you, when you go take her with you. She saved my life more times than I care to remember. She's the only good thing to ever come out of those wastes in my opinion."

He looked at Cassie before pressing his lips to hers for a soft quick kiss. "I say right now, we do what feels right but keep it a secret. No need to go telling everyone that you and I are a couple. If we have to, only then do we tell, otherwise we keep to ourselves until things calm down. I'm on my way to see Theo's wife, need to have a talk with the woman... She might be planning Alfie's death and with Thrax dead that cannot happen." He answered, he knew that one death could be forgiven but the murder of the two highest ranking officers among Overseers would mean war.

"Okay, please go prevent another death before it's too late," she smiled, letting go of Reno's hand as she walked away. "I'll consider taking Charlotte with me...I think she'd make a great companion on the field but I'd have to run it by Cap'n first. It's his world out there, and I don't want to interfere." Cassie stopped at the doorway and turned around to face Reno, and almost immediately relinquished the thought of her inevitable departure which would cause her to leave him so soon. "I'll see you later, okay?"

And with that, she was off to find Theo.

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Reno's spurs jingled as the Marshal Dodge and Deputy Calico fell in step behind him as they entered the theartre. Reno took a look around at the room, curious as to where all the people might have been. Of course he knew Muse's were much more social mingling and working with the townsfolk. He could only imagine the gossip they could collect with all the places they could be at once. No doubt they probably had intel rivaling the Masterminds ability to spy and collect info.

Reno paused however spotting a disused banjo in the corner, he frowned a moment picking up an old banjo. Dusting it off carefully the Sentinel tuned it, trying to remember the cords carefully Calico peaked over his shoulder. "Heh, you gonna play us a song boss? Murder ballad and such love songs?" She taunted his taste in music as he turned around. "Keep mocking, and I'll make you do a song princess." He shot back at her moving up setting a small wooden stool up on the stage.

"Alright. Here's one my pop's taught me, he couldn't sing much else but he could get this one just about right." He smiled knocking on the wood as he began to play; he sang - the echo carried through the halls of the theatre. The song seemed to make everything sad, pain in his voice. As he sang enjoying the quiet of the room, only the people there were those he trusted, and he found music a better outlet than shooting people.

Soon he had finished stopping to set the guitar aside, thinking of the nights alone hidden from the world. Learning to strum a guitar and play the piano under his mother's constant and careful gaze. What would they think of him now? A killer of men, a lonely gunslinger, perhaps they would think of him only as their son and nothing more.

Silently, the door behind the lawkeepers crept open, bringing forth the Renaissance, adorned in an extravagent black and crimson dress, along with two of her personal Au Pair trailing behind her, both also dressed in a lavish manner. As Isabel strode down the aisle, she listened closely to the man's performance as he strummed out his lamentation. Stopping a few rows from the stage, she stood silently, letting the man only known to her as Sheriff play the song out; the air sat still for a moment, and she finally spoke.

"I'm impressed by your performance, Sheriff," Isabel nodded her head to him. "I hadn't thought of you as a musician, though I suppose we cannot be so quick to judge each other by our demeanor alone." She began walking down the aisle again, taking short, steady steps as she made her way to the stairs of the stage, paying little mind to how one of her maids broke off from the group and made her own way to the other side of the theatre, disappearing behind a dark wooden door.

"Though I'd be flattered to have you visiting for just a quick chat, I'm sure you, being the lawman, are here on business," the Renaissance stopped a distance from the group, her eyes drooping lazily behind her red mask. "If you've come to talk to me about my husband, I'd rather avoid the topic at this moment. I had already planned to meet him later today." Her voice was filled with an almost boredom, though there was a faint hint of annoyance in Isabel's tone.

"Reno Wylde or Tombstone, if you care for nicknames." He said, setting the guitar aside. "My mother was first chair violinists in Sydney Orchestra. Of course she could play anything she fancied, she had a bad habit of learning any instrument she liked." He spoke calmly standing up without so much as reaction to her sudden appearance. His deputy and marshall stepping to either side, as they looked like figures right out of film.

"No. I've not come to speak about the Spartan. I wished to talk about Alfie... And the fact he will be going back unharmed to the Overseers." Spoke the first Sentinel eyes meeting her's and locking. "Thrax is dead. There will be hell to pay for his death but the Overseers could attack with force if we kill both their officers." He withdrew a flask taking a swig passing it back to Calico who drank happily passing Reno back a cigarette.

Lighting his cigarette as he tipped back his hat. "If that's trouble I'm awfully sorry but I gotta do my job to keep the peace." He spoke fingers tapping against the grips of his pistol as always. "If that means posting guards on Alfie twenty four seven so be it but I am hoping we can be amicable." He spoke smiling as he drew his left pistol spinning them as if bored by the talks never bothering to aim it.

The Renaissance audibly scoffed, crossing her arms as she quickly drew tired of the Sentinel, having brought up the one thing she had attempted to keep off of her mind. "Surely you wouldn't think that sending back Thrax in a wooden box is going to make things easier between us and the Overseers, regardless of if Vanderbilt is in a box beside him? I hadn't planned on doing anything to the Lieutenant until I had my new husband sorted out," Isabel lifted her gaze in contempt at the Sheriff before she continued. "And frankly, I'm saddened you thought it best to come to my theatre and threaten me over actions I hadn't the opportunity to make." Isabel walked closer to the man, her maid remaining at a distance.

"I was thinking to actually invite the Overseers into our home, but your notorious leader has managed time and time again to let his brute anger get the best of him," her words were coming out quick and deliberate, fueled by an irritation that was nearly palpable. "Wouldn't it be significantly better for both of us to be dealing with the issues that are right in front of us, rather than seeking out new ones?"

"Miss, I have made no threats. I just know you have had past issues with the prisoners and I simply wished to let you know that due to Spartan's... Issue's. We can't allow you to have him." He stopped spinning pistol slammed it into the holster giving a slight bow placing his hat over his heart. "If I offended I assure you it was not my intent."

"I agree their are more important things to other people. But you'll remember the Spartan murdered a man in my custody. Which means I will discuss with Overseers how best to amend the issue." He spoke carefully here, words which could tread the path of sounding like mutiny. "I know the Spartan is brute and has caused this mess but since I am the only non-prisoner here I'm about the only one they will speak with without commanding things." The sheriff sighed.

"I didn't come for a argument for a fight more so just to be polite about the situation and how I'll have to handle it. I may speak with Carmen as well... And I'll speak with you all after I try to reason with the Overseers. I may be a Vanguard but I stand for all of Churchill." He took a long drag on his cigarette.

Isabel let her eyelids lazily droop down, cocking her head back as she took a deep breath. "Very well," She stepped back, her maid falling back in step behind her as the Renaissance made her way down the stairs of the stage. "I'm glad we decided to have this discussion, though I do hope our next interaction will be on friendlier terms," Isabel took a glance back toward the group on the stage, stopping near the same row she had stood to hear the Sentinel's performance. There was an odd smile upon the woman's otherwise blank expression, though it couldn't have been discounted as genuine.

"I do hope that, after this situation has been settled, I will still have my chance at judging Vanderbilt. It would be a shame to have gone through the trouble of capturing them, only to let them loose to wreak havoc on us again." With the peculiar smirk still fixed on her lips, the Renaissance made her departure.

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