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    1. MelodicElement 7 yrs ago
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@ReedeThe23rd Appreciate it! The hype is building, can't wait to see what everyone else comes up with!


Let me know what you think. Willing to rework things where needed.
Extremely Hyped!
@Dinh AaronMk
I am sure that the mercenaries and volunteers that make up the Papal Army will at least put up a half-hearted defense this time.
Mulling over the prospect of playing as the Papal States.
Certainly an intriguing premise. Count me among the interested.
Intriguing.


Kav and Knog made their way down the sidewalk, Knog was clearly inebriated and was attempting to cling to the younger man for support. Though Kav was clearly having none of it and continued to push his drunken companion off.

“So, tell me again, why did you have your driver park a so far away from our actual destination…y-your Dukeness? I might have just remembered I am in no state to walk… or is it gallop…or perhaps it is prance? On account of the hooves I am always at a loss on what to call the act of forward motion… I deduce that one of us might have drunken too much Gorgon Wine on the drive over. Hint, it was…probably…me? You know that reminds me…” Knog preceded to trail off on an unrelated tangent that became more indecipherable the longer it went on for.

Kav rubbed his temples in annoyance, he just did not have the patience to justify his decision to the old goat for a third time. In hindsight he probably should have not let the Satyr cap that bottle of Gorgon Wine, but it was not his place to police other’s vices and he had a feeling that his acquaintance was not as drunk as he was acting at the moment. Knog was a habitual line-stepper by nature and was always found of pushing other’s proverbial buttons for his own amusement; Knog always seemed to miraculously sober-up should the situation require it no matter how much liquor he was seen consuming prior.

Kav was snapped from his current train of thought as he suddenly had the weirdest feeling that they were being observed; however, each time he looked behind him there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. After a few minutes of nothing he finally caught a glimpse of an unusual character to say the least. As he was preoccupied with attempting to catch a glimpse of their mystery stalker, Knog managed to collide with an older gentleman of rather large proportions who suddenly emerged from an alleyway. Kav shot an annoyed glance at Knog who seemed to have knocked himself out cold before offering a hand to the downed man. The older man seemed non-perturbed by the collision and graciously accepted Kav’s help getting back to his feet; the large man let out a rather hearty laugh at the mishap as he attempted to wipe spilled coffee off his rather tacky sweater and bushy grey beard before grabbing a tattered brown flat cap off the ground. Kav thought the oaf should have left it there with the other pieces of refuse that littered the ground.

“My wife is always chiding me about my clumsy behavior is bound to hurt someone and it seems like I finally plum did it this time. I hope your friend is going to be okay their sonny.” The man said as he let out a sheepish chuckle.

“I would not exactly call us friends, but I suppose I owe you some gratitude for relieving me of this nuisance for the time being. This city certainly attracts a certain breed of people.” Kav says as he crosses his arms.

“You don’t say partner. Well, my name is Jim Hughes and it is certainly a pleasure to run into someone with a head on their shoulders around these parts” The rosy cheeked man extends his large hand and Kav reluctantly shakes it, his need for flattery outweighing any weird vibes this large man was emanating; though something definitely felt off about the name he provided.

“Charming. You can call me Kav, no doubt you heard of me?” Kav, says clearly using his supernatural looks to fish for more compliments from this yokel.

“No…wait aren’t you famous on the interwebs? Right my grandchildren watch you on the Facetube. Only really famous people can afford to have one name. Like Prince and yourself of course. I would hate to ask for a slight favor from a bonified celebrity, but me and my friends being tourists here are scouting for local hotspots. One of my friends last in pinged in this general vicinity but hasn’t checked in with the rest of the group in a good minute and I was wondering if one as well-connected as yourself knew of any places in this area where one might slink away to. Wink Wink.”

Kav was barely paying attention to the old man outside of the interspersed compliments as he inspected his nails for any potential damage.
“You know what, I might know of a place. My…the guy whom you seemed to have knocked unconscious recommended some dive bar around here. I usually do not do this Jimbo, but I suppose escorting one as fashionably challenged as yourself to their probably equally unfashionable friend would count as my good deed of the year.”

“I really do appreciate it that you would stoop so low to help one as undeserving as me. However, what about your uh…nuisance?”

Kav once again glares at Knog and simply shrugged in indifference. “Leave him, I doubt he is unaccustomed to waking up in close proximity to sketchy alleys after a bender. Speaking of which, one as clearly helpless as yourself should not make it a habit of traversing down alleyways alone lest you be murdered or something”

Jim lets out another hearty laugh that lasts for an uncomfortable amount of time as the duo depart down the sidewalk. Much to Kav’s annoyance the walk was to Saints and Sinners was not one taken in contemplative silence; the fat moron would not shut up about what great service he got at a local coffee shop earlier in the day. Jim just kept bring up how great his waitress was like he was trying to infer something more than a routine interaction happened between them like it was supposed to impress Kav or something; it was more pathetic than anything. He could not help, but to roll his eyes at multiple points during Jim’s recollection of prior events. He could not believe he traded Knog for this bumbling ingrate.

Eventually the duo made it to Saints and Sinners, but like the filthy tourist he claimed to be Jim was occupied taking photos of the outside of the bar and the alleyway with his flip phone and sending them to his “friends” or whatever. Kav decided to wait on the bloated geezer to enter the bar first as he did not want the rather drab man to cramp his unique sense of style, but Jim never entered the bar he instead received a text message and walked out of the alleyway without saying a word.

Kav entered the establishment more confused than when he initially set off on this journey.

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Despite forces beyond his control willing him to focus on other matters Vanja managed to mull over Chasa’s response. He was not surprised that she had some autonomy, but the degree of independence demonstrated piqued his interest; perhaps, she was not a mere thrall after all. “My My, It speaks through its own volition. I must say that I never believed myself to possess the power to cause mountains or their facsimiles to respond to my inquiries, but today has certainly been chalk full of surprises don’t you think. Thank you for indulging me with your impromptu morality lesson creature, learning the depths of your self-delusion been most enlightening to say the least. Allow me the privilege to retor…”

Vanja’s monologue was preemptively cut short by the forceful introduction of Simon’s barbed baton; sharp, splintering pains indicative of cracking ribs followed each successive blow. Vanja doubled over in anguish. It was a small miracle that none of the cracked ribs broke off and punctured his lungs or another vital organ, though at the moment the severity of the pain eclipsed any benefits of not succumbing to death; the severity of the spikes was somewhat negated by the fact that Vanja was still clad in his suit and accompanying layers, which at least provided some small modicum of protection though they were still painful. Unlike other broken bones the agony of cracked ribs is prolonged as the rib cage moves with every breath one takes, the very act of living…of holding only extended the torture further; Vanja normally enjoyed would have enjoyed the irony had it not been inflicted on himself. Once again everything seemed to boil down to a matter of perspective. He was acutely aware of the all too familiar sensation of aches and pains that coursed through his body at the moment. Everything seemed to hurt and it felt like a herculean task to even consider rising from his current position splayed out on the floor, but Vanja managed to muster his remaining energy to rise to his knees; he seemed to avoid succumbing to his building injuries out of purely out of spite at this point.

“From one professional craftsmen to another…breaking my ribs without killing me is a nice touch. Always good to show utter contempt for your victim,” Vanja manages to wheeze before listening to Simon’s proposition. Vanja wills himself to coherently respond without too much coughing.

“Tsk Tsk. And here I thought that you could read my mind, yet though you have seen through my guise it appears that my true name eludes you. Seems like we are playing Quid Pro Quo yet again. I for one thought that ‘Josip Dragnov’ was a name that complimented my appearance for once. I have a whole laundry list of nom de guerre that are stamped on a plethora of passports ‘Boris Bukhalov’, ‘Lavrentiy Malenkov’, ‘Maximilian Tinchev’, and so on; like with my suits I find it refreshing to change my identity frequently. But, I will hazard to guess that none of those manufactured identities do it for you. No, much like Her I posit that you can innately tell when someone is being deceptive. That particular specter from my past continues to dog me even now.”

Vanja feels a well of emotions surge up inside himself and he repeatedly punches the ground in anger.

“Damnit, t-this can’t be my only option. Urgh. T-this can’t be. I-I have been made a fool of by these utter…-and I frankly refuse to believe that this is the way to ach…All those years… were for what? This cannot be h-happening.” He growls in a moment of frustration before composing himself.

“Fine, despite every fiber of my being and my years of experience in the field telling me not to, I will concede to your demand creature. Like I did once many years ago I will willingly give one dominion over my true name. I am Vanja Janković, son of Gersim Janković a humble matchstick maker from the village of Dolac.”

A vicious looking smile enveloped his face as Kav made his way out of the The Archipelago with Knog in toe; Kav only briefly stopped to place a few high denomination bills in the hands of the rather bewildered Maître d'. The duo stepped out of the restaurant, where they were met by an attractive silver haired human wearing a chauffer's uniform. Wordlessly she opened the back door to a 2020 Mercedes-Maybach S560 before she moved around it to slip into the driver's seat with a certain grace that only comes after years of practice.

"Well, that was certainly an abbreviated meal, sir. With your…current choice of company I take it that you are unable attend to your prior commitments for the foreseeable future", Callie says in a tone that barely hides her personal distaste of Kav’s current companion as having served with Mr. Vilhjálmsson for a number of years she was well aware which of his vast number of associates were the most likely to cause some sort of incident.

Knog seemed oblivious or at least did not acknowledge the obvious distain in Callie’s voice as he stared intently at her in an off-putting manner, before becoming distracted by the sudden prospect of potential treasures contained in-between the seats.

“I oh so hate to renegade on my promises, but much to my surprise this little social call has evolved into rather pressing matter. Hmm...postpone my meeting with Guru Yogarasa until next month but ensure his camp that the Upper-Krust brand is still on board with shilling his worthless sweatshop supplements and insipid self-help books provided the checks continue to be written for the previously discussed amount. In fact, have Charles…no, scratch that…take Terence off the Yves Saint Laurent co-promotion for the time being and have him spearhead some sign of good faith with these people. Just tell him to gather some of the non-essential staff preferably interns and have them take some classes at one of the Ashrams, film some glowing positive testimonials for social media, and so on. Also, have Terence workshop the phrase, ‘Inner Beauty Initiative’ with the Guru’s people and see if they are amenable with it. On a related note, reroute any residuals that come from this partnership to my preferred offshore accounts. For the rest of my appointments just relay the normal condolences and excuses where appropriate.” Kav says as he idly twirls a loose strand of hair between his fingers.

“Understood, sir. And our destination?” She inquired, while seemingly adjusting the rearview mirror.

“For now, just drive. Ensure we are not being followed and I’ll enter the approximate address on the GPS when the opportunity presents itself.”

Callie wordlessly closed the partition ensuring her boss had his privacy and effortlessly merged the vehicle into Gravette's Early Morning traffic awaiting further instructions.

Knog dejectedly stopped digging into the cushions. “A clean car is most unnatural, a bad omen, a clear sign that someone is hiding something.”

“Just because you choose to subject yourself to all manners of filth dear Knog, does not mean the rest of us have to follow your poor example.”

“Filth? Ha, that is rich coming from you, your highness. It seems you have become well versed in comedy since our last get together. Did I already say that…hmm? Regardless, remember your abilities don’t work on me boy, so I am not as easily manipulated as those humans that know you from the Facegram or whatever. Might want to work on your own ‘Inner Beauty’ before peddling it to the primates. But, I am certainly not one to be dispensing advice nor do I take much pleasure in engaging in friendly fire. Dispensing brew on the other hand, is something I can do.” Knog produces a dusty unmarked bottle from his tattered backpack.

“Your insolence is most unappealing and your limp-wristed gibes at my expense are unwarranted to say the least, but for old times’ sake I am willing to overlook your plethora of character flaws…at least for now.”

Kav rolls his eyes as Knog produces the unlabeled bottle from his knapsack.

“Amazing. You never cease to amaze me. You do realize, we could have procured any number of alcoholic beverages at the establishment we just departed? Also, you made it quite clear that we are going to another bar.” Kav remarks as he watches Knog unscrew the cork and start to ingest the contents of the aforementioned bottle.

“Aye, but this here be Gorgon Wine. Homemade Gorgon Wine to be precise. Made right here in this very city. Said to keep the hunters at bay”

[color=f08080“Ugh, I swear you do this on purpose just to mock me darling. I am this close to throwing you out of my very very expensive car. Let me hazard to guess this concoction is made by the trio of wretched sisters right…the Scarletwound Sisters. What you are subtly implying, happened just one time. I normally don’t associate with guttersnipe trailer trash, who make homemade wine in their cracked toilet but…” [/color]

Knog briefly stops drinking and lets out a sigh. “It would be easy to chalk your disgust up to your deeply ingrained narcissism, but in this case, it is because you are a bat. In this ceaseless war of birds and beasts, you are a bat straddling both sides. Plain and simple. If the metaphorical pendulum of power were swinging towards supernatural beings, you would be more than happy to associate and keep company with them. Since it is not, you surround yourself with humans and pretend to be part of their ranks. But, you sir are an imposter. The only reason I am accompanying you to our destination is that you are reviled by the birds and they would not openly let you into their nest without a reference. Sorry…my liege…Gorgon Wine has the tendency of making one rather aware of their current paradigm.”

Kav frowns pensively, as Knog continues to pour the potent liquid down his gullet. “Thanks for the bit of philosophy my dear friend. However, if you expect me just to sit here while you hurl your hurtful barbs against my personage uncontested, you are sadly mistaken You're a parasite sir. A leech and a lush. You are merely a shell of your former self as all your tightly held morals have fallen to the wayside given way to hedonistic pursuits. A modern-day Falstaff, spreading his inane drivel to any ear that will listen. Fret not as even washed-up relics such as yourself can still secure a place in my good graces.”

Kav snatches the bottle of wine out of Knog’s grubby hands. “Now old man how about you fill me in on whom exactly we might encounter at this ugh… ‘Saints And Sinners’. Do tell, which of our lovely kinfolk frequents such a quaint little establishment at this time of day. Please do not spare any detail as I just loathe surprises. ”

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Vanja was unsurprised that his inquisitors for the foreseeable future ended up being the man with unnatural allure and the mountain of flesh that took the form of a woman; having your two seemingly most level headed members take point in a matter such as this made the most logical sense as the other more emotionally volatile members of this gathering would be more apt to kill him before extracting any usable information. Vanja sticking with his strategy of compliance until an alternative opportunity presented itself, he opened his eyes when prompted to by Simon. He was treated to a different sensation than before; the proverbial iron hand was no longer wrapped in velvet. There was something foreboding contained deep within those eyes; something that the more primitive components of Vanja’s brain were deathly afraid of it—he suddenly was overcome with the urge to flee, he desperately wanted to be anywhere else but in the room with this creature. Despite recognizing on some level that Simon was employing a variation on some of the same techniques he himself used Vanja felt himself teetering on the edge of despair and capitulation, but an unexpected second wind brought him back to his senses for the time being. For some reason he felt like he was closer to Her than he has been decades, he could not give up just yet right when he was on the verge of a breakthrough. He could not accept that he was just letting himself be bested by this rag-tag group of freaks.

Vanja winced as he abruptly felt his index finger push back against the natural bend of its joints, it was an extremely painful experience one that he was usually on the other end of; since he was not a masochist it was not a particularly enjoyable experience. His eyes carefully darted around the room taking in his surroundings. This quick glance told him that his options were at this point really limited to two options, he could either cry out in pain or remain silent; the classic non-choice as whatever option he chose would just ensure more torture. This exercise was solely to make him react, gauge his compliance and resilience. He mentally combed the reaches of his mind searching for any possible way to prolong his survival, keep his captors preoccupied until…until…a deadline was crossed, a deadline that was fast approaching. The longer he was remained radio silent by not calling series of numbers and saying a series of predetermined phrases, the better opportunity his “allies” had of noticing his absence and checking into the last location his throw-away cell phone pinged from; Vanja’s was bemused that his reputation of being punctual and a stickler for these sorts of things might end up just saving him after all.

He just had to focus on the facts and all would be clear. What did he know about the two individuals in the enclosed space with him, this Simon character was enigma who was apparently trained in the art of torture and the behemoth…well, the goliath had some connection with the brat…the brat from earlier. While, not being able to divert his focus from Simon without expending a great deal of energy, Vanja was still able to address whomever he desired for the time being and he slung his words at Chasa.

“So, what is the deal with you and the whelp, beast. Your offspring? No. Your lover perhaps? No, that is not it. Is he your master? Are you a slave, a thrall perhaps? Do not tell me you are a servant that has deluded herself in thinking that her master truly cares about her. Do you not consider yourself in bondage because it is apparent to everyone else? If I am to assume what the brat demonstrated in the alley was a fraction of his power, then you are just a pawn to him. A tool he will discard once the world breaks you. Think back over the circumstances of your existence since coming across that ill-mannered twerp, right now do you have free well or just the conditioned illusion of free will? Also, food for thought your too late to save him. Admit to yourself he cannot be saved from the rot that has taken hold of him and brace yourself for the inevitable.”
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