Chaper 14: The Blessed

[Anya Louteius]

Anya froze when he pressed a blade to her neck. She listened carefully and took the black box. She was so unsure of what happened but hse knew she had to put it on the speaker and she looked around. She made her way to the stage and she cringed as three more explosions happened and she cowered and then pushed through the people and took the stage and attached the black box to the speaker. She stood at the microphone and she was going to talk but kept looking at the box, waiting for something to happen.

[Kaschei Bessmertny]

To Machiavelli
After hearing the explosion, Kaschei tracks down Machiavelli, but doesn't bother with Alfonso, since he is safer with his Manalist allies. Kaschei turns to Machiavelli to talk to him, but he is interupted by another set of explosions.

"I think it is time for us to leave. Things may become ugly here and we aren't exactly on good terms with these Manalists." Kaschei states. He is not worried, since he is not someone prone to worry. He just feels that it is the practical thing to do right now.

So with that, he simply leaves and lets the Manalists and however is behind the explosions to their own situation. He has no investment in the safety of the Manalists and has no connection to any sort of rebel movement. He leads Machiavelli out of the mansion very calmly, and both set out to find a teleportation booth.

[Li Violette]

My conversation with Isvara and Jose is cut short when I am approached by two men from the Invisible Hand. Having heard the explosions, I know what this is going to be about. Looks like the party is over...for me anyway.

"Excuse me Speaker, but for security reasons you are going to have to leave for a more secure location." One of the members of the Hand informs me. The Invisible Hand is a group operated by the Moderator himself. It does a variety of things...from spying, to security, to dealing with rebel threats. I know there are a few members of the Hand here at the party, though, I didn't notice this man.

I am handed a folder from the Moderator. I am to look it over before I meet him...which apparently, I am to do immediately.

"Do either of you know what is going on?" I ask the two members of the Hand.

"The Moderator has only informed us that you are to leave the Banquet and report to him." One of the Hand members reply.

I feel alarmed. I am not sure what is going on.

"This is all probably some silly part of Keitoleinen's sick sense of entertainment. There aren't any organized groups...you know.." I say cautiously. But there is no more time to argue. One of the Hand members...a tall fellow with pale skin and gray hair, takes me by the arm and escorts me away.

As I leave the party, I look back at the partiers, and am not sure what is going on. Surely I would have had some sort of warning or information if this was related to a rebel group of some sort. Of course, maybe it was a criminal group..or just a business interest who didn't get invited. Some of the Blessed can be quite petty.

All I know is that it will be a long night.

[Emmet Fawkes]

[ Yep, Bishop's talking to your character, H. I just wasn't sure of her name. ]

Bishop stared hard at her for a moment. The explosion he heard outside seemed out of place, but then again, there were gangsters and people a part of both the Russian Mafia and Null here. It wasn't anything that surprised him, but if things got shaky, then the Banquet just might be interesting. For a moment, he stared across the frantic people that seemed to disappear elsewhere, he wasn't sure what was going on. He looked back at the woman and smiled beneath his mask, peering closely at her before straightening his posture and wiping off some imaginary dust from his sleeves.
“Guess I don't got time to ask you my question,” He rasped huskilly before slipping his hand on her cheek, grabbing her chin softly before moving her face side-to-side, and laughed giddily, “But I'll catch ya' later, toots. With a face like that, you won't be hard to miss.”

Before she had time to full-on slap him for being so rude, the man turned on his heel gracefully and strolled away towards the mansion. Slipping through the door, he slowly closed it behind him, glancing around to see if there was anyone he could spot that was the culprit. Whoever was terrorizing this mansion could be pretty... strange, and he wanted to meet him. He came here to shake things up, but someone beat him too it, it almost made him giddy. Noting a staircase, he licked his lips dryly and made his way up to the second floor—where was he? Where was he? Honestly, he could feel little butterflies in his stomach. Snickering softly, he made his way down the hallway, cat-calling for anyone who might be near.

“Hey, kitty kitty!” Bishop called down the hall, slicking some of the black bangs muddled with his own hair from the eye-holes of his mask. “Where're ya playing, buddy boy?” He assumed the terrorist was a guy, no girl would have the guts to do this. None that he's met, anyway.

[Kyra Majarae]

Kyra cursed to herself as she stepped on the body of her date, her stilletto heel piercing the heart. She pushed her way through the crowd and pressed her way toward the stairs. The young girl from earlier ran past her and she hissed and kept walking up them. She witnessed the other explosions and she looked pissed. She saw Emmett coming up the stairs behind her and she ran forward and then when he was calling she stepped out. "Hello there, handsome. Looking for someone?" She laughed almost playfully, despite being pissed.

[Jack O. Trades]

Skipping around the empty room to which he hid in now he continued his counting running the situation through his head. People were hearing his little party favors, no doubt about that. Some were panicking, others were dining, others were investigating. Guess it was time to take the next step. Digging through his pockets once more he pulled out what looked like a microphone. Pressing a button on his microphone his little black box his newest playmate was bound to have left.

As his chip activated it channeled the signal from it into his mike, so as he spoke it would be heard through the speakers and intercoms. "Good evening ladies and gentle men. And a happy Manalist mas to all. I am Mr. J, and you're most gracious host has recruited my services to provide a little surprise for you all. A show of lights, if all would kindly make their way to the street or the nearest window as a display of the divine in the sky, an example of the shining beauty of the elite. It will begin in fifteen minutes, have a blessed evening" With a flick of his thumb, the signal was dropped and he pocketed his microphone and resumed skipping in a circle.

Fidgeting once more in his pockets he mumbled again trying to run his own plan through his head. As he contemplated bursting from the room to gun down people he brought out a cell and dialed a number "....Pick it up, pickituppickituppickitup..." Grinning he spoke cheerily to the person on the other end "Abbot? Yeah, its J. Time to bring in the big screen" Not even waiting for a response he closed the phone and pocketed it once more as he began to dance around the room giggling insanely to himself.

[Emmet Fawkes]

Bishop stopped in his tracks and tilted his head at the pretty girl standing before him. Even though she seemed promiscuous in her words, she reminded him of some kind of deadly predator—maybe it was his excitement working him up? He glanced down at her heel, blood still clinging to it. He grinned, taking a deep breath through his mask, and coming towards her. He stopped mere inches from her and leaned closer to her face, looking at her for a moment with his jet-black eyes.
“Nice shoes.” He complimented. “Honestly, you don't look stupid... and that's quite a compliment coming from me, babe.” The knife in his back pocket, the ones activated on the bottom of his shined-shoes, and all the others hidden on his person were itching, itching to be taken out. Laughing heartily, he slunk around her, peering close at her neck and openly observing her. Personal space didn't exist in Mr. Masked man's world.

“You,” He said pointedly, slipping his leather-clad hand across her shoulder, and continued, “aren't running. And that means, you must know what's going on. You might know who the ring leader of this lovely masquerade is. The big banger around here, the honcho.” There was silence as he stopped circling her and he hee-hee-hee'd once more, glancing down the hallway to see if anyone was coming. Not like he would've cared either way. But he wanted to find this lone crusader having so much fun. He wanted to have some fun, too. Chewing on his lip for a moment, he took a step towards her side, tilting his head to the side.
“I like your face.” He randomly hissed, murmuring quietly to himself as he sniffed. Upon hearing the voice coming from the intercom, a grin plastered on his face and he was excited all over again.

“Where's the room Mr. J's in?” The man suddenly growled, his voice harsh and grave. The man was dangerous, and random. He didn't even know if this woman knew ANYTHING about what was going on, but she was so calm, despite the explosions—how could she not be involved.

[Kyra Majarae]

Kyra smiled as he commented her shoes and then commented her. She frowned when he got really close to her, not that it bothered her, she just despised all people. She yawned as he talked to her. She was bored with him already. She smiled she ripped off her dress revealing a tighter but more movable suit. she slammed her stilletto heels into the ground and knives replaced them.

She smiled playfully and put her hands on her hips. She then moved her hands to tug on her wrist bands which also held knives. She sighed softly and politely cleard her throat. "Much better. Do forgive me if I don't tell you where this Mr. J is. He seems like the type to not want his fun ruined by an amateur. So why don't you leave it to the big dogs who know what they are doing." She tossed her hair back into a ponytail and did a cartwheel backwards making sure the tip of her shoe hit the mask to knock it off and then she smirked at him. "Why don't you show me what's behind the mask?" She waited patiently.

[Emmet Fawkes]

[ OOC: Just curious, I like your siggy! XD What size is it? Mine seems way, way too small. ]

Bishop wasn't really getting the response he wanted. She wasn't any fun. Tsking beneath his mask, he watched as she ripped off her dress and just stood there. The suit was familiar. Something like an assassin would wear, perfect for pretty little gymnastics. “Aw, are you going to do a little number for me, hm?” The growl from his voice cleared back into it's raspy showman voice. When she slammed her stiletto heels into the ground, he rubbed his chin and cackling as he analyzed them again.“Like I said,” He repeated, jabbing his fingers towards her shoes, “Nice shoes.”

This woman was definitely something different. He wondered if she was a part of Null, too, but he was too lazy to question her. As she moved her hands to tug out more knives, his hand slipped into his back pocket and pulled out one of his knives, but he only held it up in his hand as if mocking her. Little knives everywhere, they had something in common. “Are you his squeeze or something, Miss Dark and Brooding? Blushing bride-to-be? Well, if you can't tell me where Mr. J is, then I'll have to go and find him!” There was giddiness dancing in his voice. Giddy to get going, she was holding him up. Glancing to his wristwatch, he smacked his lips. “Big dogs, that tyke?” He asked, pretending to be confused as he shrugged his shoulders, and his voice dropped to a deadly whisper, “If that's the case, this place needs a better class criminal.”

Honestly, he had to admit that this woman had skill. The theatrical mask bounced off his face, but he lost his balance and sprawled out onto the floor—maybe it was on purpose, maybe it wasn't. But he broke out into bouts of cackling, mouth wide with glee. Before she had a chance to fully see his face, he clambered to his mask and pressed it to his face, maybe she saw the numerous scars splattered on his face. The burns. The marks. But he was quick, like her, and scrambled to his feet, still clutching the mask. He held his jacket opened with his other gloved hand, and strapped around his waist was bundles of explosives.

“Ah ah ah, girly.” Bishop tutted her, like he was punishing a child. “Your pretty, but unless I'm taken more seriously. You and I, won't be leaving. Now, where's Mr. Tyke? I need to talk to him about something. Just something, little. No?”

[Kyra Majarae]

[Its a 500 x 100 (think I got that right lol) But if you want me to make you ine I can. I have a thread in the General Board with my work in it! =)]

Kyra frowned when she didn't get to see his face, but she caught glimpses of burns and scars and she stepped back away from him. She grimaced a little, but regained her composure before he could notice. She laughed and crossed her arms when he threatened her with explosives.

"You think you can scare me? I'm a Null terrorist. Do you really think I would fear your little explsoives? When I can make a bigger explosion than you anyday." She kept laughing and when she looked at him again her eyes were wild and fierce. She walked over to him and circled him touching her finger to his shoulders and dancing them along his back.

"Now, you really want this Mr. J? I'm not stopping you, but I'm looking for him to. He ruined my fun at the party. We could tag team against him...or I could kill you and eat your heart out." She laughed like she was teasing, but she wasn't. She waited for his response.

[Jack O. Trades]

(The party goers are not anyone specific, so no one needs to worry about being snagged them self)
"One twenty two, one twenty three, one twenty four, twenty five!" Wheeling about his lips spreading into a manic smile, the paint providing the illusion that his grin was wider then physically possible. Whipping the door open he walked out across the hall snatching a drunk gentleman in a suit by the back of his head. With little more then a yelp the man was brought into a room on the opposite side of the hall, only to be pushed up against the wall. His arm swinging out once as one of his new knives slid from his sleeve into his waiting hand. His hand squeezing the man's throat he watched as he writhed a fevered glint shining in his eyes "Come on, gimme a nice..." with a swipe of his hand the mans mouth from lip to ear was slit as he sliced through flesh to the right "Big" with another swipe he shuddered in delight as the man choked out a scream of pain as another red line was made on the other side of his mouth "Smile!"

The man rested to the wall because of his grip, spasming in pain, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Tilting his head to the side he grew bored with him cramming the knife up beneath the man's chin. Once the deed was done he tossed the body haphazardly onto the ground.Opening a door he looked up and down the hall waiting once more for another stray before darting out and dragging his victim to another room and leaving them the same way. Then another, and another. The fifth one he noticed was a woman, though with her face crushed in with the handle of one of his new knives and her ribcage ripped open it would be rather difficult.

Hopping out of the room once more he began to skip once more, now slipping up the stairs seeming no different then when he first arrived at first glance, though with a second glance the jolly psychopath's hands were coated in blood. As he attempted to leap up the first step he landed on one foot hopping forward twice as he noticed two people standing in the middle of the hall. His smile vanished in an instant, though the painted scars left the vision as if he was. Blinking twice he looked from the mask wearing fellow to the woman. With another blink he shrugged, he wouldn't intrude on a private moment, and straightened out his jacket. Whistling a little tune to himself he walked casually into the nearest door closing it behind him.

[Anya Louteius]

Anya heard his voice and she instantly knew who it was. She saw him dart up the stairs and then he vanished she didn't turn her head ot look so she wouldn't draw attention to him. But she ran off the stage once he disappeared and ran up the stairs and then he vanished she opened the door that was starting to close and she slammed it behind her and locked it. "You! Why are you doing this?!" She looked like she was close to tears from being so scared.

[Annika 25]

Despite the chaos, and the fact that the Moderator, Speaker, Master and head of the Global Bank are no longer at the party, Annika receives some orders from the Global Bank. She is told to investigate the situation and deal with any rebel threat. The World Bank believes that the rebels might be communist rebels, so, Annika is told to deal with them quickly and without mercy. There are no known communist rebels in the world (although Li Violette is known to have a background in communist politics), but Annette is very paranoid about those sorts of rebels.

So, Annika heads upstairs, following after Jack when he takes the drunken guest into a room. Despite the smoke and chaos, she comes upon three strange figures in the hall. One is Jack, who she believes is some sort of rebel because of his observed behaviors with the other guests.

"I am Annika 25 of the Global Bank. I am here to protect the interests of the Blessed." The android states to the three in the hall. She observes them for any sort of action, but she remains on guard. She isn't sure if they are the rebels, but she reasons that it is fairly logical to assume that they are.

Creditor Androids all have pink hair, and are all quite powerful. Annika narrows her eyes on Jack. They start to glow red as she prepares her eye lasers.

[Emmet Fawkes]

[[ OOC: That'd be wicked! I checked it out awhile ago, and I figured I'd give making one a shot, failed miserably, so I'll ask you to make me one tomorrow. Nvmnvm, ;D Not tired. ]]

“Your no fun, you know that?” Bishop reprimanded her. He waved his arms dramatically, dropping the jacket back in place. “Here I am, trying to give you a little per-spec-tive and I don't get any ‘please don’t kill me, oh god ohgodohgod, please don’t kill me.' Your pretty sassy.” People didn't laugh when other people threatened them with explosives, usually they got on their knees, sobbing like some newborn baby, begging oh-please-don't-I've-got-a-wifey. He didn't care, but never did Kyra. It was pretty unpleasant, but he had loads of other things in his repertoire, he wasn't afraid of killing a woman. He could turn a toaster into a deadly weapon. This woman was wild, he could tell, he had good-people-reading skills.
“Null terrorist, fancy that. This is no good, no good at all.” The man cooed softly to himself, fastening the mask tighter to his face and rearranging the black mussed-up wig. “I didn't think you were a mook, a goon, ah, in the vernacular, thug. A kitten with a nasty tooth for violence.” He sniggered softly, but it sounded like muffled noises. Straightening his collar, he scratched the side of his neck with the sharp blade he took from his pocket, and eyed Kyra. “Maybe someday you'll honor me with your display of big bangs.”

When Kyra circled him, running her finger over his slouched shoulders and back, he smirked. The offer she gave him was something he could take, he didn't like working with people, he didn't like people at all—all they did was complain and die. He was in one of his everything-should-perish-today moods, like the day he “accidentally” gassed a room full of private students, kinder gardeners. He was the shark from that toothy movie. Just cuts in and out of your life and takes nasty great bites out of you and swims off for no reason except it can.
“Let's go, no more infield chatter then. He ruined your fun, he's making this fun for me, were all set, sweetcheeks!” He announced, hee-hawing as he drew the blade away and pointed it rudely at her, “We can tag team against Mr. Tykes, but if you try to take off my mask one more time, I'll carve that pretty little face of yours into my new pretty little mask.” He drew a breath, and seemed to brighten.
“Eat my heart out? That's a little romantic in a kind of Hannibal Cannibal way.”

Sweeping towards the middle of the hallway, he glanced around and laughed merrily.
“Enough chitter-chatter.” He announced, wildly. “Let's go beat a dead horse."

A man came whistling by and he wheeled around, spotting him disappear behind a door. Bingo. Was that him? And a woman with pink hair. A creditor.

"Well, well, well." .”

[Annika 25]

"I have been informed by the Global Bank that Communist Rebels are disrupting this party. I am afraid that I must put an end to your terroristic actions against the heroes of this world." Annika states to the man. Really, she has no idea who he is or what he is. She tries to scan him, but can only scan him for a Credit Score...something useless in most battles. Even that doesn't seem to work due to his mask. Though, by the way he is dressed, she can assume he is not someone with a respectable credit history.

Without wasting another moment, she rushes toward Emmet, using her android super speed...and prepared to punch him in the stomach. Her eye continue to glow in case she should need to use her eye lasers.