[RPG] The Big-Oh! RP — An Archive of Storytelling

"You pompous imbecile... I will not be brushed aside, as if I am nothing! We are not weak! If you live past this day... you will see the true power of the Union! All of you will see!" Vera snarled furiously, straining to get the words out as she lashed forward with another blow, aimed at the Negotiator's face. She groaned inwardly as he whipped his arm up with a speed that defied his current physical condition, parrying the blunt steel pipe to the side, and at the same time pulling his other arm back, clenching it into a fist.

"Blasted--" Vera growled to herself, ignoring the pain she felt as Roger's tightly compacted hand slammed into her right eye, almost instantly turning the flesh black. She staggered back, losing her grip on her weapon as it slid out from her hand, clanking across the surface of the bridge and landing next to-- Curse it all! --Angel's hand.

She took another, stumbling, wary step back and tripped in an almost identical manner as the traitor had, toppling over the comatose body of Snake Marcato. Roger began to move toward her, saying something-- she really didn't care what it was now --when suddenly recollection hit her like a brick.

She began to scrabble about, rumaging around in Snake's clothes. A confused expression passed over Roger's face before he hit on the same point as she had, crying out "No!"

But it was too late, far too late. The foreigner had found what she had sought. Her pistol.

"Die, negotiator!!" Vera bellowed as she raised the gun up, straight between his eyes, and pulled the trigger. Instinctively, Roger jumped to the side, the bullet streaking across his cheek and tearing open a wound, sending blood flying into the air. Vera cursed again, trying to get the weapon steady to squeeze off another shot.

"I am growing tired of this! You fools need to be taught a lesson in humility! You need to understand how much it is that we have suffered!! And you will see this by how much we make you suffer for all that we have been through!!!"

Another gunshot echoed through the air, sending a flock of birds perched on the streets farther away into panicked flight.

But it wasn't Vera's gun.

"Damn it all!" She shouted with a renewed anger as she pulled the trigger one, two, three more times. Nothing. The gun was empty.

"Wait, then who--?"

Struggling to her feet, she and Roger moved almost in perfect synch with each other, both turning their gaze toward the figures of Angel and Alan.

(OOC: And it looks like this chapter's climax goes to... Alan Gabriel, because Vera's next post is going to be of the 'let's get the heck outta here' variety.)

I heard it. I heard the panic. That was all I needed...

"Hahahahaha. Haha." Snake said as he rose to his feet. He grabbed his ribs. Vera had obviously broken some of them. Amazing. It actually hurts. "Well Vera, it seems like you're up a creek now. You have no bullets, and I'm back up. But I've lost interest in you. You bore me. I find you quite pathetic. Hahahahaha."

Snake was covered in blood, had broken ribs, and yet, he was laughing. He didn't care about Vera anymore. He wanted Alan. He wanted the cyborg threatening the girls. Accelerate He thought. He did. He accelerated right at Alan and flew into him at full acceleration. Alan was sent flying into a car, which was fairly damaged.

"Leave them alone." Snake said. "Get up, I know you can..."

Alan hit the ground with a light thud, squirming like a worm against the concrete for a few seconds until he shuffled up to his feet again. His hat was long gone, but now was the first time he really felt its absence. It made him feel... a little sad, though the sadness was so diminished it was like a thin layer of powder over the ice of the rest of his emotional core. Easily brushed away. Snake stood before him, livid, red eyes flashing.

Alan grinned and fired his gun.

"I don't have time for you today!" he crowed, leaping with inhuman swiftness to a distant place on the street behind Angel. Snake was hurt, but the bullet hadn't gone anywhere fatal. Pity.

"Angel, Angel, Angel," Alan chimed musically, pace languid but steady as he walked to her. " I saw what you did. Kitty pulled the trigger for once! Oh... it's been a long time, hasn't it? Not since the first time you shot me! What's this? Surprised I remember, kitty? You wound me; how could I forget? These-- these are-- hahaha!-- memories, after all! ...This world is full of mysterious things. Precious things! When the earth turns gray and the sea turns black, these things will continue to live on! But not us, Angel-- not the likes of you and I! The injustice is overwhelming; it disgusts me! And once... once you felt the same," he lamented. She pointed the gun at him, gripping white-knuckled with both hands. Something burning flared up in his gut and he relished it. He hadn't experienced such intense sensations in a while. "The world is full of mysterious things, but also unimaginable pleasures as well! Didn't you know?"

He leaned in close enough that the gunbarrel pressed into his sternum, Angel's eyelashes fluttering to his breath. Masked eyes captured hers, words flowing out of him lowly, confidentially, as his right hand became a spearhead at his side. "The path of excess leads to the tower of Wisdom! You deserve this much. I'll make you understan--"

"271! Leave her for now! We regroup!"

Alan was gone from Angel's line of sight as quickly as he had appeared. Darting her head around, she found him perched on the hood of his car several yards away, still staring her down perversely.

"What a shame," he called, tone edged with an unidentifiable emotion. "But don't worry; the fun has only begun!"

He cocked his head and a smile spread over his face.

"I promise."

Vera had already gotten to Alan's car before she had called out to him, sliding into the driver's seat herself this time. The stick-man didn't complain, jumping in as well.

The automobile's engines roared to life in a manner very unrefined for something that seemed so connected to Alan Gabriel as Vera slammed her foot down on the gas pedal, jerking the steering wheel to the side and swerving the car around a corner, leaving the little band of heros far behind. The door which Julia had kicked off of it's hinges toppled out the side, a brilliant fireworks show of sparks kicking up as it bounced on the pavement.

"Where does my glorious leader wish to go now?" Alan asked, casually straightning his suit and ignoring the door.

"Where else? Where we are focusing our search for the True Memories."

The auto crusied smoothy down the street, vanishing from view.

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The deep cavern was with rife with activity. Dozens upon dozens of workers, digging, structuring, searching. Vera and Alan strolled along one of the more beaten paths, accompanied by a man wearing the guise of a Military Police officer.

"Agent 12! What are you doing her!" he managed out, shrinking under Vera's withering gaze. "Have you actually came to see our progress?"

"I had to, Agent 97." Vera muttered, idly pulling at the cord of yet another whip. "Otherwise, how would you buffoons get anything done?" 97 backed away a little more. "What progress have you made, if any?"

"We've found something big. This way," he replied excitedly, turning off towards one of the more larger tunnels. The small group walked for what seemed like a mile, before they finally entered an even larger cave. No, not a cave; a gigantic silver chamber, where higher numbers of Union agents were working furiously to uncover their discovery: An immense, still half-buried yellow megadeus. Vera's mouth flew open in shock, eyes bulging out of their sockets.

"We found it several months ago," the agent said pridefully, gesturing towards the hulking figure, "It's completely intact, Core Memory and all, and we believe we can have it free and operational in about three weeks."

Alan stole a glance at Vera, smiling, watching as Vera's mouth fluttered open and closed, gaping like a fish out of water. Finally, she found the words to speak.

"Agent 271... how well do you think you can pilot a megadeuce?"

(OOC: Okay, this post isn't near as good as it could be, but still! I've been waiting so long to do this, and I do hope it meets with approval.)

Vera would be much more than a handful at any other time, but Angel's attacks had weakened her. Along with the adrenaline rushing through his veins and his brief chance to catch his breath, he regained enough of his speed and strength to handle her, grabbing the pipe in mid swing and retaliating with a fist to her right eye. As she stumbled over Snake Mercado's unmoving body, he approached her with vengeance burning in his gaze. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, but if you want to act like an animal, you'll be treated accordingly. What you did to Angel was worse than criminal, it was sadistic..." His lecture died off as he saw her fumbling in Snake's uniform, and it hit him with a sickening lurch just what she was searching for. He tried to get to her, crying out as he saw that he was too late, the pistol in her hand.

She aimed it right between his eyes, exclaiming triumphantly, "Die Negotiator!" His instincts took over as she fired, throwing himself aside. He didn't avoid it unscathed, as he felt a hot stinging burn strike his cheek, but thank God he was alive! She was yelling at him in outrage, and he caught the end of her tirade as she aimed at him once more, staring down the barrel of that pistol, hoping against hope that he could somehow survive this bullet. "You need to understand how much it is that we have suffered!! And you will see this by how much we make you suffer for all that we have been through!"

Roger prayed silently, swallowing hard as he readied for death, Just one miracle more, please...

He choked back a cry as the shot rang out, but... nothing happened, no bullet struck him. He looked up in confusion, seeing her staring at her pistol in disbelief, cursing it as she squeezed the trigger in frustration. The clip was empty! "Damn it all!" She shouted furiously as she pulled the trigger repeatedly with the same result. As Roger got to his feet with a growl, she looked around for the source of the gunfire. "Wait, then who--?"

He looked with her to the other pair locked in battle, Angel and Alan Gabriel, praying that she was all right. Just then he was startled as Snake jumped to his feet with a laugh, the blood on his face adding to the ghastly appearance of the cyborg, even causing the intruder to loose her composure. "Well Vera, it seems like you're up a creek now. You have no bullets, and I'm back up. But I've lost interest in you. You bore me. I find you quite pathetic." Without warning, he dashed off like an Olympic sprinter, throwing himself hard into Alan Gabriel, sending the assassin to the ground, then stood over him for a moment, glaring.

Roger jumped as a shot rang out, and he saw Snake fall backwards... damn it, he has another gun! He faced Vera with teeth clenched angrily, fearing she would be on him again as he was distracted, but she was backing away, holding another knife out defensively. "Mind your manners and allow me to depart, you lap dog of Rosewater, or I will continue where Alan Gabriel left off with you!"

He clenched his fists, unsure of what to do, but a deep fatigue was beginning to gnaw at him, and he had suffered quite a beating. It went against every instinct to think this, as he was sure they would be nothing but trouble later on, but maybe he should just let them go, rather than face the possibility of further pain and death at their brutal hands. He had no idea if Snake was alive or not, and the girls were injured badly. This had to end somehow so he could see to their care.

Angel! He remembered that she was still in danger, watching as Alan Gabriel made an inhuman leap behind her, as if launched from a trampoline. The demented words he tormented her with, and the manner he said it, sent a tremor of fear through him. He spoke as if they had once been comrades in arms, but for some reason or other... she had shot him? Is that why he was a cyborg now? What did that maniac have to do with Angel? His words clearly disturbed her, and obviously his presence, as she kept that golden pistol aimed squarely at his chest in tight, trembling hands.

He had to do something to save her from that ruthless madman! But he couldn't bring himself to move, deathly afraid that if he drew attention to himself, Alan Gabriel might kill her just to see him writhe in agony. He had to trust Angel, and Providence, that she would be able to deal with him and save herself. Still, he could scarcely breathe as Alan leaned forward threateningly, and she pressed that gilt barrel into his chest. The fear was becoming unbearable. Damn it, don't just stand there, don't let him... shoot him!

He choked back a cry as Alan leaned into her to torment her further in a disgusting manner, even as his right hand snapped once more into that razor sharp spearhead. "The path of excess leads to the tower of Wisdom! You deserve this much. I'll make you understand-"

Roger almost bolted to her side, but an outcry from behind him jerked him back like a leash. "Agent 271! Leave her for now! We regroup!"

Alan hesitated for a moment, leering at the poor woman, but then had vanished from in front of Angel as quickly as he had appeared. He made another one of those incredible leaps, landing on the hood of his car several yards away as Vera started it, still staring her down with that awful blindfolded gaze. "What a shame," he called to her in feigned regret. "But don't worry; the fun has only begun!" He cocked his head as a smile spread across his face, producing his hat from somewhere. "I promise."

He waved his hat out the doorway as Vera tromped the gas pedal, and the car sped off in a spray of gravel, the door that Julia had kicked in tearing off comically, grinding sparks as the car vanished up the ramp back to the streets of Paradigm.

Roger nearly fell down as he leaned against the flood wall, shaking from fatigue, pain and stunned relief. He held his head in his hands for a moment, murmuring, "My God, my God... I've never faced so many near brushes with death in my entire life..."

And then he looked up anxiously, remembering that there were people counting on him, and in particular, a frightened, frail looking woman who could barely hold herself up any longer. But thoughts of anyone else vanished from his mind as he tore off towards that faltering girl, his fear giving him the strength to hurry to her side. "Angel! Are you all right! Angel!"

Ugh. That shot hurt.

Alan's shot hit him just above the heart, missing anything vital. Snake was bleeding profusely. His whole body was covered in blood. Normally... He thought, Normally that would allow me to fight harder. But normally the blood I'm covered in isn't mine. This blood is mine. Ugh. I feel....so.....weak....

"Roger.....when....when this is over.....I need to show you something...."

Snake passed out from blood loss, which wasn't a surprise. He had the cut on his side, the wounds from being linked with Big Soh, the blow to the head with the pipe from Vera, now a gunshot.


Snake.... Looks like you're going to sit this one out. It's probably for the best...

Emilia sighed in relief after watching Vera speed off into the night, although her fear still lingered. She knew this wouldn't be her last encounter.

Silence ensued between all those present in the vicinity. Roger edgily paced towards Angel, who even in her fragile state was brave enough to confront Vera. While Emilia was relieved she couldn't help but wonder if Angel could ever face the Union again. "What does it feel to be outcast by your own people?" Emilia pondered silently " Did mother feel the same way?" Emilia shrugged off her inquires as she approached Angel and Roger. Snake was bleeding thickly, his clothes drenched in crimson. It was only an afterthought in Emilia's mind but all these people needed somewhere to go. She couldn't very well part with Angel, Roger, Snake, Julia and even Beck. There were just too many anomalys...to many things that didn't fall into place.

" Angel..." Emilia sighed somberly. Her heart in desperation. Her connection to Angel was evident to her now. Emilia never had a sister however she had the assurance that if she did,Angel would have been her.


N'importe ce que le type de personne que vous êtes. ..the sang votre hangar de soeur est votre propre...

"Angel, are you all right?" Roger was at her side almost immediately, his dark eyes rapidly looking her over, taking in with a sickening feeling all the bruises and lash marks covering her fair skin. She drew in a shuddering breath at his presence, all her emotions suddenly overwhelming her, before shakily collapsing into his open arms.

"Oh, Roger!" she cried into his shoulder. "I’ve never.. I’ve never felt so scared." She felt like a child, allowing herself to succumb to her emotions, for allowing tears to flow freely from her eyes-- after all, wasn’t she usually so calm and cool around Roger the Negotiator? She couldn’t keep her sobs in, though, and continued crying into his soiled jacket until there were no more sobs left in her. She felt devoid of everything-- both physical strength and emotions.

Roger reached to stroke her back in comfort, but withdrew upon contact-- he’d nearly forgotten the gash up and down her skin, and she’d flinched at his brief touch. "We really need to get that looked at," he said gently, with a frown, "before it gets infected."

She nodded weakly. "I had a first aid kit in my car.. but it’s still parked at the Speakeasy." The bar seemed almost non-existent to her-- the past twelve hours or so had gone by in a blur that seemed wash away anything ordinary in favor of everything dramatic and strange that had happened.

Roger laughed quietly at her response, and she realized how much she liked it when he laughed, when his voice was soft and gentle and not chiding or frustrated the way it usually was at her. "No, I mean I need to take you home with me and get you tended to and rested. I’m guessing you’ve been through a lot overnight." He shook his head, a small grin allowing itself to spread over his face. "What am I going to do with you, Fallen Angel? We can’t keep meeting like this." He pushed himself to his feet then, removing his coat, as a cold front had gone through and the air was quite chilly. He draped his coat around her almost ceremoniously, then reached down to bring her up with him, offering his arm for her to lean on.

She chuckled softly as she looked up into his face, and evidently he was doing a bad job of appearing brave to her at that moment as she murmured tiredly, "Why Roger Smith, you're shaking... I never thought I'd see you so scared either." She reached up to caress his face, her brow furrowing as she touched his cheek, felt the cut in it from that bullet that had passed much too close for comfort, and the blood that was running into his collar.

He gave her a wry half grin as he drew the handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed at his face, his emotions running wild in his soul as he gazed back into those lovely, catlike eyes. "I guess we did take quite a beating, didn't we? But, you're alive, and still so..." He caught himself, almost saying she was beautiful. He felt a strange rush of delight at being alive, and her as well, and she was very beautiful, despite the cruel lashing. But some still sane, practiced and controlled part of him reigned him in and he simply smiled to her instead. "Come on, let's get you home, and to some well deserved rest."

Why had he offered to help her so freely? She was a Union agent.... former Union agent, he reminded himself, but she was also a crook... former crook, he corrected himself again. But... was it wise to just throw his doors open to this woman of mystery, and allow her to stay in the mansion? As his gaze returned to her, taking in her beauty and Vera's cruel torment, her horror and tears fresh in his mind, any thoughts to the contrary vanished. Besides, where could she go? She needed care, and he was afraid of what might happen if the Union or Alex Rosewater found out that she was in an unguarded hospital bed. There was no way he was going to let her out of his sight for a while. And, after all, hadn't he wanted to spend some time with her? He had a thousand questions burning in his mind.

Emilia watched all this with an amused expression. "You know, some of the rest of us aren’t feeling all that great, either," she said cooly.

"Well, I can’t very well abandon the other damsel in distress, can I?" Roger said, helping Emilia to her feet as well. "That would go against my code."

"The same code that almost got you killed, you mean?" Angel said somewhat slyly, referring to his refusal to carry a gun. Roger frowned at her, but with a smile, as he called the Griffon over to them with his watch remote.

Julia was still frozen in her spot, perched like a cat ready to spring at its prey as she looked hard at where Snake lay. He was amazed at that... she had stayed with the girls, protecting them, even when Snake had been shot! Did she do so because she respected me? Or... was there really something in common somehow, between myself, Snake, and her? Roger’s brows raised, and he coughed quietly. "Er... Miss Marcato..."

Julia turned to face him. "Yes, Roger Smith."

"Is he okay?"

"He will be. This one will take care of him."

Roger cleared his throat. "Uhm... you may go to him. I'm not your commander, you know."

Julia blinked, once, before nodding and slowly rising to her feet and striding to Snake’s side, where she hefted him up into her arms and glided back toward their car, all in what looked like one fluid motion to Angel. Just who was this woman? She had Snake’s last name, but she’d been so dazed with all the fighting that she still didn’t really know.

He listened as Snake said something to him brokenly. "Roger...when... when this is over... I need to show you something..." Roger nodded, beginning to reply when he saw that the mercenary had passed out. Show me something? He drew his lip taught, wondering... could there be something from my past that they knew about?Just what was my past! What did this all mean?

Angel, Roger, and Emilia watched silently as Julia carefully packed Snake into their car in an almost motherly manner, then climbed into the driver’s side and took off.

"Well then, I suppose that just leaves us," Roger said, "Oh, just one moment." He reached into his coat pockets for the items he'd found, showing them to Emilia. "Did you loose these?"

Her eyes lit up and she exclaimed, "Oh my, yes, thank you! I thought I'd lost these forever! Where on Earth did you find them!" She took them and clutched the broken crucifix to her tightly, blinking back tears of joy.

"Either Providence or sheer dumb luck," he said to her with a smile. "I'm afraid the jewelry was damaged when it was lost on the road, but I know an excellent jeweler who can mend it like new." She looked up to him, her eyes speaking of her gratitude. "I also know an excellent doctor. We'll go there first and have that knife wound looked at."

"Where did Beck go?" Angel asked. She realized that the last she’d seen him, he was running from Alan.

"He ran off. To think, that goon actually helped me..." Roger grimaced. "And that would mean I owe him, doesn’t it?" He winced as he felt a sting from the cut in his side, pulling his shirt tails out and tieing them about his waist in a makeshift torniquette.

Angel rolled her eyes. "And he’ll probably hold you to that." She sighed. "Well, our car is still over there--" she nodded towards the little blue vehicle, still sitting calmly in its spot, "-- so he can’t have gotten that far. No doubt he’ll come back with his tail between his legs eventually."

"Hey, come on you guys, that is so unfair." Roger whirled around as he heard the crunch of gravel, seeing that familiar golden figure approaching them with that perpetual arrogant smirk on his face. "I am being completely misjudged in all of this."

"Beck!" Roger snapped at him sourly, and as he began to smart back in reply, he cut the crook off. "Why didn't you stay and help us! It figures that you would run off like that, and then have the nerve to come back here, feigning the big hero act."

Jason leaned forward with an indignant cough. "Oh come on, Mr Big Shot Negotiator. You're the big hero, not me. You're lucky I hung around as long as I did. You saw what happened with that scarecrow, Alan Gabriel. Nothing worked! That guy isn't natural! Not to mention sane. Besides," he added with a grin, "I saved your bacon at least once. You can't deny that, now am I right?"

Roger grumbled to him, "I have to admit, you did help me out of quite a fix. Partly. I suppose now you want some kind of a reward for it."

He waved his gloved hand dismissively. "Oh come on. Just knowing that you owe your life to Jason Beck is reward enough." As Roger grumbled through grit teeth, he added with a grin, stretching lazily, "But, I could use a lift-"

Roger pointed abruptly at the blue sports coupe. "You can take your car."

Beck rolled his eyes as if he were adressing a dunce, counting off the pair of reasons on his fingers. "One, it's not my car, two, it's out of gas."

Roger simply opened the trunk and pulled out a large can of gasoline, thrusting it roughly into his hands. "That's more than enough to get you back to where you stole that car, and return it." He turned with a toss of his own hands as Jason began to protest. "You might as well. That car is sure to be reported stolen by now, why not simply return it? It'll keep you out of jail. For maybe a week..." he added under his breath. "Oh, and you can keep the can."

Beck snarled as the Negotiator returned his attention to the two ladies in his care, storming over to the stolen blue coupe. "You're all heart, Crow Boy."

"Never mind him!" Emilia cried. "He can take care of himself, the goon. Now you take care of us, Mr. Smith."

Angel was taken aback by Emilia’s sudden bluntness, but she laughed. "You’ve certainly gotten bold overnight!"

Emilia grinned sheepishly, with a shrug. "Well, my shoulder still hurts pretty bad, and I know you don’t feel any better, so--"

Roger blinked in surprise at this brash young lady, wondering what sort of life had made her so spunky, and just how she had become aquainted with Angel. Whatever it was, she seemed rather protective of the older woman, and they carried on almost like sisters now, which he found quite charming. He said to them with a lopsided smile, "All right, I can take a hint."

He helped them into his car, where Emilia climbed into the back and immediately collapsed against the soft upholstery, glad for something comfortable to sit on, and Angel took the passenger side by Roger, settling gingerly against the seat as she drew his coat into place more comfortably. Her skin was beginning to feel tight where scabs were forming. Another scar to add to my collection, she thought, absently reaching up to trace along the contour of her shoulder, feeling the familiar raised skin there.

The Negotiator was staring at her with a troubled look. Angel peered at him quizzically, suddenly very self-conscious of herself.

"What did you mean, ‘our car’?" he asked with a frown. The thought of her being with that clown Beck not only gave him a twinge of jealousy, the fear that she might be contemplating some major crime with him disturbed him much more. His notions of any sort of attachment between them was silly and immature, but the possibility of a criminal alliance wasn't farfetched in the least.

Angel smiled a bit coyly. "It’s a long story... as usual."

Roger turned the key in the ignition. "I was afraid of that." The Griffon pulled back up onto the proper street. "And how much of what I’m about to hear will actually be the truth?"

Angel raised a brow. "That’s certainly no way to talk to a lady."

"As you keep reminding me." He didn't want to sound so harsh to her, and he really didn't mean to, but it was his habit to be stern in order to get straight answers. And with Angel, it paid to hedge your bets, at least it used to. He hoped that after this, after her own people turned on her as they had, that things could finally be different.

"If you don’t believe me, ask her," she nodded towards Emilia. "She’s been with me nearly the entire time. I can’t very well lie with a witness right here, can I?"

Roger looked at Emilia in the rear-view mirror. She certainly looked like a timid creature, but she let him know from the last few minutes of her company, and indeed her confrontation with Vera, that she was fierce under her mousy exterior. Still, she didn’t look like even Angel could have persuaded her to lie about the night’s events. There was an honest aire about her.

"All right then," he grumbled, feeling a crushing weariness in every inch of his body, and he stretched painfully to try to fend off the urge to sleep. The drive was much too comfortable. "Tell me your story. I need you to talk to me to keep me awake."

So she did...

(OOC: these are Tifaria's posts, which I simply added a few lines to)

Wake up, before the memories return.


Snake did. He found himself in the passenger seat of his car, Julia driving. "Snake, are you alright? This one was worried." Julia asked. "I'm fine. Find somewhere to stop. I'll drive. You need to rest."

Julia pulled over, and Snake took over the car. He was still hurting badly. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but he didn't care anymore.

I'll go to the bar and contact Roger.

*************

Snake arrived outside the bar, but instead of going in, he went to the back of his car and popped the trunk. Inside was another trenchcoat, and various weapons. He put on the trenchcoat, grabbed two pistols, and two swords. My kitanas are still good. I may need them to fight Vera next time. He put the pistols in the coat, and the swords on his back. Snake woke up Julia, and went into the bar. He sat down where he had sat earlier, and contacted Roger. "Roger, when you get the chance, meet me at the bar."

Snake called the bartender over, ordered the same drink he had been drinking all night, and waited for Roger...

Roger was disheartened by Emilia's tears, as she told him a sad story which was repeated far too often. Overbearing parents driving away children that they didn't mean to, and children finding out that life away from home was much more difficult than they had suspected. Except this time, she found out the hard way. But the question of why Union agents would be interested in her, and why Vera had taken such an intense dislike to her was bugging him. Did they know her as merely the rich child of an influential parent? Did they only want money to fund their operations? Had she done something to earn Vera's wrath? Could... Emilia's mother have been a Union spy?

And Angel... he looked over to her compassionately as they related the unlikely chain of events, from the evening in the Speakeasy where they somehow all met, through the cataclysmic megadeus fight, to the disastrous encounter with Alan Gabriel. As much as he'd learned about her over the past year, he felt like he didn't know her at all, now. A foreign agent, working for those terrorists? This was an unsettling revelation. Even though she wasn't any longer, what did that mean about her? What was in her heart and mind, what did she want to do? Would she cooperate with him? Would she lead him on like she had before, use him and drop him when he was no longer any use to her?

Would she love him?

He couldn't stop that question from coming to the surface, and he chastized himself for it. But... didn't he want that, for her to love him? Hadn't he waxed melodramatically at her, like some silly love struck college student when they'd been trapped underwater in that old skyscraper? Didn't he think of her in that way? But... no, this was hardly the time nor place for such thoughts. He was still euphoric after surviving so many attempts on his life, and it was clearly affecting his mind. At least, that's what he told himself.

Roger drew a deep breath to settle himself down and asked her, "Angel... what were you doing with the Union? How did you ever get mixed up with them? Care to talk about it?"

She drew in a breath, turned to look out the car window instead of at him. How was she supposed to answer this? Would he even believe her? "I.. it's been so long, I don't even remember." She shifted uncomfortably. "I was raised to be loyal to the Union. They're the only family I've had for so long." She released a small sigh at the thought, a slight, sudden homesickness overcoming her.

He sighed quietly as she faced away from him. Was she hiding things from me? Would she ever not hide things from me? Or was I reading too much into her? "Do you know where you came from, your people?"

Another uncomfortable shift. She felt awkward answering him so frankly-- it was not in her nature to be so open with anyone, least of all Roger Smith. "The desert, mostly. I don't know if any of us had ever lived anywhere else."

"Are you serious?" he blurted out. This was astonishing if it was true. "Angel... is anything out there? Any sign of your homeland? Of your past? How did you survive?"

"I... I don't know. I wasn't... raised out there." She frowned, realizing she was contradicting herself. She continued, uncertainly. "I lived in a house, with my mother..." Hadn't she? She seemed to recall vague memories of a cabin, of pots stewing on an old wood burning stove, and her mother, smiling as she cooked in her crisp white apron. She groaned, rested her head in her hands. "We survived on rations in the desert. But I don't remember how I got to the desert." Nothing she was saying made any sense, she knew.

After making sure he wouldn't wreck, he reached over to stroke her shoulder softly. "Angel... I'm sorry, I don't mean to upset you, or to be an interrogator. Nothing like that." He swallowed, thinking he perhaps should keep his hands to himself and stick to driving, because he found himself wanting badly to pull over and sweep her into his arms. "I'm only asking because... I care for you." Well, there, he'd said it, and that wasn't such a big deal, was it? Nothing really romantic... perhaps... "I want to help you. The last thing in the world I want is for Vera or Alan to get their hooks into you again." He spat that last bit out, as he was still bitterly angry for the way they had abused her.

Had Roger just said what she thought he'd said? She sighed again, brushing the thought away. There was no time for reading further into his remarks. "It's fine. I'm just.. I think I'm just tired. I can't seem to sort out my thoughts right now." Roger's sudden friendliness towards her wasn't helping, either, as it only added more emotions to her already overcrowded head. She felt like she was either going to collapse or explode from it all.

That was discouraging. He had hoped that she would open up a bit more, but it seemed that he had pried a little too much. He hoped that it wasn't a sign of how things would be between them. He felt that he needed the conversation to continue on a little more, though. Not just to nudge his weary mind, but because he wanted to hear her voice. It was downright musical. He looked into the rearview mirror at Emilia, watching her nod off with the crucifix in her hand, wanting to know badly what was involved with her situation. "Could you talk to me just a bit more, please? I promise, no questions about you."

She tilted her head at him, unsure what to make of that. She watched him flick his eyes to the rearview mirror, and realized that Emilia had been silent for some time. "It's funny.. at first I felt like she was only getting in my way." Angel folded her hands in her lap, stared down at them and the scattered knicks and cuts gracing their surface. "But I like her now. I feel protective of her.. and I've never felt protective of anyone but myself."

He gave her a warm smile, as he couldn't keep the affection of her from showing. "I know. I have to say that I'm glad of your protection of her, and this friendship. You seem almost like sisters." He couldn't help but become dour again as he looked back to the road, recalling Vera and how she had tormented them, like some kind of predatory animal. He went ahead and used her proper name. "Emilia... Vera, she appears to know her. She seemed to bear a deep hatred to her as well. Do you know why? Is Emilia in any further danger?"

"Emilia... is Agent 276's daughter." Angel turned back to look at the soundly sleeping girl as Roger gasped in reaction. "I don't know if Emilia knows or not. Surely by now she does.. she's not as dull as she looks." She pulled Roger's jacket more snugly around herself, stopped to take in his scent before continuing. "Vera won't go after her, though. I don't know why she hates Emilia's mother, but it's not Emilia she wants... yet."

Roger swallowed at that remark, and the dark notions it suggested. "Angel... do you know something? Or is this just... an impression?" He sighed, rubbing his face, the thought of having to tangle with that bunch again filling him with weariness to the point of anguish. "I have to protect you. Both of you. Help me, please. Won't you?" He looked to her hopefully, wanting to see a favorable response in her eyes.

"Help you?" She laughed softly. "You must be desperate to ask me for help, Roger Smith, when I know you don't trust me." She leaned against the window, tiredly. "I don't know what Vera's up to... but I get the impression... that she's not concerned with Emilia yet... although she certainly won't forget that Agent 276's daughter is in Paradigm City." She idly fussed with the button's on the sleeve of Roger's jacket. "But she'll be back, eventually. Vera's never been very patient."

Roger pulled his lip tight... this wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. But, who was he fooling? He didn't really trust her yet, not completely, as much as he wanted to. Would she just fall into his lap, the way he was behaving with her? Of course not. He wanted to assure her though that he wasn't an antagonist, saying to her earnestly, "Angel, I want you to know that I'm on your side, and I mean that truly." He added with a trace of a grin, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do." There was no hesitation in her answer, no doubt as to what she would say. Of course she trusted Roger Smith! He had saved her life, after all-- Vera would have killed her and Emilia if it hadn't been for him. She would have done anything for him, she realized with knots in her stomach. Roger Smith had her in the palm of his hand, he simply didn't know it yet.

He looked aside, murmuring quietly, "Damn, but you're beautiful."

"What did you say?" Had she heard that right? Were her ears playing tricks on her in her woozy, needy, emotional state?

He replied with a chuckle, not wanting to confess too much, "I'm not really sure... even if this is real or not. How often have I had an Angel for a passenger?" That inspired a laugh from her as well, and she watched him through drooping lids as he drove on, wondering if the things her heart was telling her about him were right... if this noble man could be tainted by her...

It was a good thing he was near the clinic of the doctor he retained, because he could barely drive straight, nearly causing a couple of accidents. But finally he eased into the parking lot and climbed out of the sedan with a groan. "Good Lord... I haven't felt this exhausted in my entire life." Or stiff and sore; he'd suffered a lot of punishment in the fight with Alan and Vera.

He dutifully helped the girls inside, whereupon Doctor Reinhardt hurried them into a private area. He was lucky to have someone he could trust, but he also had a tendency to scold him in a distinct German accent for getting so banged up at times. "So now you aren't happy nearly getting killed yourself, you have to go dragging innocent bystanders into your troubles?" Roger shrugged with a sheepish grin as he was dragged into a waiting area, too tired to manage a reply.

Angel paced around idly as Roger fought to keep his eyes open, looking at his side, a long red bloodstain in his shirt from Alan Gabriel's attempt to end his life. He couldn't tell how deep it was, but he would be lucky if he didn't need stitches. He heard Angel trying to light a cigarette and uttered a couple of syllables in warning, pointing to a No Smoking sign. She stuffed it back in its carton with a groan. "Oh for pete's sake... I need a smoke or I swear I'll collapse."

She looked up as he came to her side with a smile. "Come on, let's go out back. I need to move around or I'll fall asleep myself." He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

He was gratified as she hooked her arm in his, leaning against him. "Now, if only there was a shower and a warm bed to go with this."

He gazed at her sandy gold locks somberly, a multitude of stray thoughts swimming through his mind. "Soon, my lady, very soon."

The air in the alleyway was still quite cool, and he rubbed his arms as Angel lit up and took a deep drag on her cigarette, her eyes taking in his tall, chiseled, well built form. A form she wanted to be leaning against. Just then his watch beeped, and he looked to her in appology. She waved resignedly and turned away. "It's all right, I'm used to this." Her eyes lowered as she thought sadly, Yes, much too used to this... others will always come first, won't they, Roger, the Negotiator...

He sighed as she walked a short ways off, not sure if she was irritated at the interruption or not, turning aside to speak into his watch in a low voice. "Yes?"

It was Snake Mercato. "Roger, when you get the chance, meet me at the bar."

He blinked at his watch in astonishment. "Snake? Shouldn't you be looked at? I thought-"

"I'll see about that later. I want to talk first."

He could see that Angel was looking over her shoulder at him, but he couldn't depart from his Negotiator habit of confidentiality. "Uhh... how long will you be there? I'm kind of tied up for a while-"

"That's okay, I'll wait."

He frowned at that remark, as this would complicate his day. "Uh - well, it might be a few hours - Snake?"

He groaned in exasperation as he saw that the mercenary had ended the call, and walked back over to his companion, who gave him a thin smile. "You just can't get a break from your business, can you?" She had overheard, and wondered what was going on... surely Roger wouldn't go charging right back into something, would he? Was he that dedicated... was he that stupid? She was afraid the answer was yes. And then she noticed that he was staring at her again, intently, and it heartened her, but made her uncomfortable at the same time. If only you were looking at me for those reasons, like I stare at you... She tried to sound disinterested, but couldn't entirely. "What is it?"

His eyes wandered over those cruel marks Vera had left in her, what he could see under his jacket, and to her face, lovely and still with a blush of innocence somehow , and to the cut in her cheek that was almost the mirror of his own. He looked down, clenching his fist as he fought to keep those terrible memories from his mind, his voice tight with emotion. "Angel... it's just that... if I had just been there a minute earlier, you wouldn't..." He sighed, looking up into her eyes. "None of that would have happened."

Her eyes quivered in echo of the emotions running rampant through his soul, and for a moment she didn't know what to say. Roger, did you... do you really care? For me...? She was afraid to move, to say anything for a moment, but then looked down with a smile, shrugging it off much as he would have. If he meant it, like that, it would come out soon, it had to. She didn't want to be devastated by false hopes. "You're so very noble... but don't worry about me. I've lost more scars than these."

He couldn't hold back a gasp of concern, blurting out, "Angel... I..."

She smiled to him, thankful that at least he cared for her as much as anyone else, even after what she had put him through before. She stepped on her cigarette and took his arm this time as he looked into her eyes with an amusing bewildered expression. He was so cute when he was flustered. "Come on, let's get you stitched up before you bleed to death."

OOC: Geez, you guys put me in some strange positions. lol. Oh well, I'll deal. My characters not big so it's all good.

-------------


Julia watched as Snake took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink. She turned, looking back for a moment at her husband (was he really? Or had he just been her boyfriend for a really long time? She remembered no wedding reception.) before walking out the door, her black jacket billowing behind her. She wasn't about to just wait for the negotiator, she had no time for that. She had her own worries at the moment, like she had from the start, before Snake had seen her.

"Hey, you single babe?" a man asked.

Another guy trying to hit on her...she'd seen it happen before. Men tried to pick up on her over and over again. It never bothered her, since she knew full well she could deal with it. She remained silent annoying the man and causing him to walk away, muttering, "What's your problem? Bitch..."

She pretended not to hear the comment, before stopping at a large mansion, obviously the home of the negotiator. She wondered about it for a moment before walking up to the door. The mansion was familiar to her, therefor she knew the whole layout of the place. She knocked on the door softly.

Snake has changed, there's no doubt about it. But it's like...oh well. We no longer have anytime for each other. It's quite bothersome.

When no one answered, Julia sighed a deep sigh and looked around. She stood back on the sidewalk, waiting for something, not that she quite knew what. Perhaps she should return to Snake. He really quite needed her to balance out his short fuse. Julia giggled at this thought then walked off just as Roger Smith pulled up.

She turned the corner and leaned against the alley wall, rubbing her temples. This was a total pain, and she needed some time alone...

--------------------

That's all I have time for right now.
Later Days:
JA

As he sat in front of the doctor looking him over, Roger found himself wishing that he could have cleaned and dressed those wounds of Angel's, as he wanted to be close to her... Oh get off it, Roger Smith, for pete's sake. She knows you don't trust her, and this is just an idle fantasy anyway. You know it is. And he nodded to himself with a sigh. Yes, it was... why would Angel be interested in him, anyway-?

"Ouch!!" He blinked in confusion as the doctor dabbed something in the cut in his cheek which burned like a cigarette.

The German frowned at him. "Have you been listening to me?" He applied some sort of jel to it next which was cool but tickled, and a bandage over that. Roger reached up to rub it as it was rather irritating, but winced as the doctor swatted his hand away. "Don't touch it. If you mess with it, it might leave a scar. It might be distinctive, or it could be ugly. That's up to you."

He went back to work as Roger shook his head slightly with a smile. For some reason, even receiving painful treatment was an odd kind of delight. If that bullet had just been a fraction of an inch further in, he wouldn't be here, probably none of them would. But, they were alive! All of them! And it was miraculous how it had worked out, even to Vera Ronstadt running out of ammunition when she had. He was convinced more than ever of a divine Providence watching out for them, perhaps of guardian angels. His had certainly earned its wings today. And the thought of that Angel waiting in the next room, still as lovely as ever, warmed his heart. He looked down, murmuring, "Thank you."

The doctor grunted at him as he turned to Roger's side with a needle and thread. "Heh, you might not be thanking me after this, Herr Smith."

Outside in the secluded waiting area, Angel put her hand to her mouth as she heard Roger cry through the walls, "Hey Doctor Rinehardt! Wait a min - ow! Agh!"

She couldn't help but laugh with Emilia as the doctor said in a chastizing voice over Roger's gasps of pain, "This is what you get for being so reckless! I've never seen you so injured. And with innocent women too? Vwat were you thinking! No, you're not getting any aenesthetic! I want you to remember this, so that I won't have to see you coming in like this any more. And don't be such a baby. I doubt this is nearly as dangerous as what caused it!"

A few moments later, Roger emerged with a growl as he buttoned his shirt, washed of the bloodstain. "Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired. Maybe next time I should see a vet. At least I'd get a treat out of it." The girls couldn't help but laugh at that, and the doctor's look of indignantion. Roger turned to them and snapped, "And just what are you laughing at?"

Angel gave an irritated cough. "Roger! What is wrong with-"

She cut herself off as the doctor jammed a lollipop in the Negotiator's mouth, muttering, "Here, maybe this will shut him up."

This brought him back to earth, as he realized that he had been childish, and chuckled as he settled the candy in his cheek so he could talk. "Okay, I'm sorry you two." He spotted the doctor's coat, thinking that he would appreciate taking it, asking, "Doctor Rinehardt, may I borrow your overcoat? I promise to bring it back within--"

"Yah yah," he said with a wave as he returned to the front of the clinic through a door. "Just don't do anything heroic."

He looked to Emilia, his smile fading a bit as he thought of what Angel had told him about her, being a runaway, but deciding to return to her father. He wanted to see to it that she went ahead with that idea, as he knew that had to be the best place for her. "Now that that's overwith, where would you like me to take you?"

(Uhm... Stay tuned for a Post to come later this evening!

This is probly the first post of its kind, but I'll do mine later after conferring with Tifaria.

This is basically a place holder so pen1300 and Fallen Phoenix can go ahead and post if they're ready to. Because... *breath* I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THEM!!

Roger is basically gonna take Angel back to the mansion and deposit her in an upstairs room, and then he's either gonna nap or head right over to see Snake at the Speakeasy. Probly just leave. This shouldn't interfere with anything Phoenix has planned in his post, except possibly for an amusing complication. Roger and Angel won't have a clue as to what's going on behind his back. But if I recall, Norman isn't even there, so it should be fine. Oh, and like I said, Gummi, excellent post.

So, if you're ready, take it away pen or FP!)
* * * * * * *

Okay, very funny thing. This post is REALLY BIG, full of introspection and soul searching and head scratching and stuff, so the post that goes here are the ones AFTER Roger comes back from the Speakeeasy and lets Julia in. Soul searching by two lonely hearts

Got it? I don't...

( Take your time. If Roger needs sleep, then sleep! It is kinda late, is it not? Remember, Snake doesn't need sleep. Part of that whole war-monger-lab-altering-thingy.)

"Julia!" Snake said as she walked out.

We were getting married the day I got taken away. I had a great life. It was just me and Julia. No lab. No megadeusi. Just happiness.

We were on the way to the reception when I got taken away. I suddenly got a call from the military people I worked for. They knew I was getting married, and that's why they took me when they did.

"Snake Marcato? This is your Commanding officer. Congratulations on your special day, but we need you to come here immediately. No questions asked."

"Julia, I'm sorry. But I have no choice but to go. You know I don't want to, but I must."

Julia wasn't happy with him, "Why don't you just not go?"
"They'll make me a public enemy if I do that. You know how important I am to them."

Snake got out of the car, and took a taxi to the gate of the base.

"Snake....We've been waiting for you." The commander was at the gate waiting for him. "Come with me."

*********

They went into the restricted lab that was on-base. Snake had access to this area, but he didn't work in this area. "Why did you bring me here?" Snake asked.

"We need you for our new project."

That was all I heard before I had been knocked out. It was what? 4 Years before they froze me? I have been alive for too long...

Roger went into the Speakeasy noting how everyone looked at him like he was warmed over roadkill, and he was beginning to feel like it. He was sure his eyes had such dark circles under them that they looked bruised. The bartender held up his usual bottle of Budweiser but Roger waived him off, heading towards the back, where the usual gossipers and schemers habited dark corners.

Big Ear looked over his paper as the Negotiator strolled by, murmuring in his deep voice, "Roger, you look worse than someone the cat dragged in. I think this time I should be asking you the questions."

Roger gave him a lopsided grin but kept walking. "I'll pay you a visit later and tell you all about it, but I came to see someone else this time."

"A man who wears sunglasses at night?"

He grinned a little wider. "Something like that." He went over to where Snake was sitting, and gave him a rueful smile as he invited him to sit with a curious look at his weary eyes and bandaid across his cheek.

He looked over his shoulder as Julia pushed her way to the back of the bar, giving her a little smile. "No thanks. I'm afraid if I sit, I'll fall asleep. What did you want to talk with me about?"