Chapter 16: Fear and Trembling

[Hilja Kukkanen/Sasha Pisarev]

the next thread for when the last one has 20 pages...

[Emmet Fawkes]

Bishop remained mute on the couch as he leaned his head back, counting the patterns to could pick out on the ceiling. He was so bored sitting here being such a nice boy, much kinder than he'd like to be—must more cooperative than he'd like to be. He was already itching to get back into the playing field, but now he was here, crowded by other people he didn't know. Archer, the ratty man who looked homeless, and some solemn looking girl who was following Kyra like a puppy. There was also a strange looking man with disfigurements, but he could easily say Aye-aye to that guy and toast to both their disfigurements.

“So, were gonna have a party?” He finally mused, the first few words he got in since Archer came in, and he played with the strap of his smiley-face mask. People made him want to act out naughty, but he guessed flipping over a table at random would be a bad idea. Bonifaz was back by now, and Heikki was already offering to bake. "I'll be sure to hand out the cupcakes."

Pressing his fingers to his head, he glanced at Archer. “A single tiny candle, shining in the ugly dark. I laughed and blew it out.” He quoted off-handedly and chuckled ravishingly, “You look like you need an intervention, Archie.”

[Durante Dushkriti-Fahid]

Dante's thankful for the smalltalk, even as strained as it is. There's thousands of things you can learn about someone through smalltalk, like whether or not they enjoy it, besides—silence was an ugly thing. Most people told him he talked too much, so he wouldn't of been surprised if Alter told him that. Most people didn't like the fact that he talked a lot. Most people felt sorry for him when reading his document, and other people just didn't care.

“Well, when you say it like that... I really wonder if we can change people like that, instead of destroying them. The pain of being lonely is out of this world, and so is the pain of any other suffering. I know, uh, it doesn't excuse the horrible things he did,” Dante rambled as he walked, finally reaching the room, he opened it for her. This is a circle with no end and no God. It sure was depressing. He was about to continue his thought, but he took a breath and turned to her, “What's Mossad?”

Dante watched her reach into her briefcase and take out disposable, sterile latex gloves. Right! From his own pocket, he removed his latex gloves on, clumsily—unlike Alter, who reminded him of that horrible doctor at base. He shuddered at the thought.

“Me... the orders?” Dante was bewildered, but he modestly added, “Alright, we can't disturb anything that may look unusual, but usually what we do first is look at the entryway. Most of the explosives took place on this floor, so we should search each room. Look for physical evidence... and I can smell gunpowder and a high concentration of plastic, not from the furniture, and decay. Technically... we should really have the floorplans, but I don't know if Mr. Keito--uh Mr. Keito would have them.”

He swooped down without for a moment, peering at the ground as he picked up a piece of thread. “Yo-yo... this is yo-yo string!”

[Tuesday DeCastro]

"I think insane about covers it." Tuesday states about those who attacked the Blessed party. Sure, it was brave, but stupid. She thinks for a moment.

"And there is a chance that it could get blamed on us." She frowns a little.

"We could..." She pauses, thinking. "...Attempt a breif takeover of M TV?" Tuesday suggests, though she thinks its a dumb idea, and rather impossible. "Or maybe a radio station?"

[Calithin Crest]

With the meeting over and everything decided I head home. My sister talking to Dinari is a little bit disconcerting, but I guess I may just be over thinking things and don't say anything about it. I head to my apartment, which I haven't had much time in lately, and go take a nap.

As I lay down on my bed trying to fall asleep I contemplate the things discussed at the meeting. I wonder if things in the economy will get better, and try to come up with ways my company can promote spending and expansion. These things are more than just words to me and I genuinely want to do my part.

[Archer Aylmer]

"The world needs an intervention."

I move my head to the side to get a good look at this man. I wonder what drugs he's done to end up looking the way he does. There is perhaps a stopping point.

"Take off your mask. Don't call me Archie. Arch-er. ER. Or Mr. Aylmer. Whichever you prefer."

I use the couch to pull myself up to a sitting position.

"Lets go chop down a tree, smiley."

[Alter Grossman]

Alter notices Dante flinch and frowns, unconsciously. She wonders what she did to make him flinch.

"Everybody suffers. We are born suffering. Some people just don't deal with it as well as others. There's no excuse for lashing out at the innocent." Alter believes this, although she herself has had to attack the innocent while working for the Invisible Hand. She doesn't like who she has become, although she attempts to justify it to herself by reminding herself of her ultimate goal: to kill Ariel Tal Shachar. She supposes being in the Invisible Hand is like being under deep cover. Oftentimes you will have to do things that you find immoral or reprehensible.

Alter pauses when Durante asks what Mossad is. Sometimes she forgets how long it's been since the world changed. "Mossad was the Israeli intelligence agency, back when there were still countries. It was considered one of the best in the world," Alter tells him, puffing her chest out a little, unconsciously. Alter is still proud of her country, and proud that she was a part of the best intelligence agency on the planet. Invisible Hand wishes it was as good as Mossad, as far as Alter is concerned.

"I swear to... Manala... terrorists get weirder every year. Yo-yo. What next?" Alter takes out a floorplan of the mansion and marks the location of the yo-yo string on the map. She makes notes about its orientation. Then she takes a photograph of the room and the yo-yo string.

"Is it safe to touch? Can I put it in an evidence bag?" Alter asks, curious. It seems absurd that a yo-yo string could be dangerous, but you never know these days. During her first year working for the Invisible Hand, six people were beaten to death with a herring. The world is strange and getting stranger.

[Emmet Fawkes]

Bishop stared at him lazily, flicking his wrist. The world needs chaos and mayhem to shake its head out of its ass—that's what it needs.

“Alright alright, Archer, nicknames just make things more pleasant.”

The word pleasant was strained, as he smacked his lips and turned towards the Manala Mas TV show presenting a scroogey-character who, instead of learning his god-awful greedy ways, continues his sinful ways and fires the impoverished family. The world was spinning around them, alright.

“I wouldn't want you pissing your pants, Mister. Ayler, so I'll keep Mr. Happy on.”

Bishop poked his mask, and shrugged.

“Chop down a tree so we can... decorate with goodies and a big flashy star? Oh goodie goodie.”

[Durante Dushkriti-Fahid]

Dante busied himself appraising the string, wondering what kind of man would bring one in here. Maybe they'd been rigged with explosives, maybe they shot out of the Yo-Yo? Things like that sounded like a Marvel comic, like the ones he used to smuggle under his bed. He glanced up at Alter, noticing that she was frowning.

“Maybe when your hurt so much, you forgot who's innocent and who's not.” Dante mused quietly. Sometimes he sat wondering about that—who were the good guys and who were the bad guys, and he couldn't figure it out. Manalists believed they were doing something for the better, for the world. Everyone else either agreed or disagreed, so who was in the wrong? He liked the world better when all the changes hadn't happened, where there were trees and animals and wildlife. Those were the things he treasured. His ultimate goal was to bring it back, bring his mother back, bring whatever was left in that cell when he was ten back. Innocence was confusing. The Invisible Hand taught him that there was no bad guys, just objectives.

The Mossad sounded amazing, Dante listened intently as she described who they were. Back when there were countries even! Best in the world. He wondered if Alter wished they could go back in time, back to those days, to bring something like that back—it was a good dream. He nodded, smiling at her.
“I wish I was around in those days.”

“Looks safe enough, I don't think Mr. Terrorist had any plans on leaving any live explosives or traps behind,” Dante said, as he held the string gingerly between his two latex-covered fingers. “So, you can bag it if you want, Commander.” He held it out to her.

[Alter Grossman]

Alter bags the string. She feels uncomfortable with where this conversation is going. It could get very incriminating very quickly. She doesn't know Dante so well, and doesn't want to give him information that he could use against her.

"Things are better now," Alter says flatly. It is a lie, but a necessary one. Alter is good at lying. "There is social justice. People that work hard are rewarded, people that don't are punished. It's the way things should be. Countries caused a lot of problems. My country had a war with the Arabs for nearly a century. Now there isn't any war. War was horrible. People were afraid to leave their homes. Also, there was a religion in my country called Judaism. Judaism said that you should help the poor and rest one day a week. Also, it said that you should not eat pork. It was a stupid, lazy religion."

Of course, people are still afraid to leave their homes, but now it is because of Creditors and the Invisible Hand, not homemade rockets and bus bombings. Alter was never very religious but she never noticed how much Jewish values permeated her life. She misses how quiet things were on Saturdays. And she knows most of the so-called "Blessed" haven't really worked a day in their lives. Moving imaginary money around isn't work. Work should produce something, or make the world better somehow. Alter hates the way the world is.

[Archer Aylmer]

"We're all ugly under our masks... Well, most of us. I have known people who were not, I think. But regardless I'm sure you overestimate your deformity. No one is ever as bad as they think they are. That is a terrible vanity."

I lean down and pick up my shoes before slipping them onto my feet slowly. I yawn and can feel that my hair is sticking up oddly so I pat it down with one hand, which probably doesn't help much

"I just wanted to chop down a tree. I don't like nature. Do you have an axe?"

He looks like he might. I am relatively hopeful.

[Emmet Fawkes]

“Maybe your right, or maybe I'm a new kind of ugly you've never seen before. But I agree with you, were all ugly deep down here.” Bishop prodded his chest where his heart would be. Shrugging his shoulders, he stretched his arms behind his head. “Personally, I've never met anyone who wouldn't trade their own mothers in for a nickel.”

Bishop watched as Archer leaned forward to put on his shoes, and attempt to pat down the hair that was sticking up, and he couldn't help but snicker throatily, hee-hawing before pushing himself to his feet. He took a deep breath before looking back at Archer, patting his own pockets.

“Well, usually I keep my axe on my person, but I left the girl back home. Hopefully yer' not too disappointed with explosives instead?”

Bishop peered closely at Archer, mere inches from his face before poking him in the chest and retreating back to his position.

“What've you got against nature?”

[Archer Aylmer]

"Are axes women? I know guitars are, and cars are... I'm not sure. I guess explosives would be fine but I was hoping to be more hands on with it."

I stand up and put on Bonifaz's jacket. It's cold outside and I don't appreciate discomfort. I stretch a little bit and rub my eyes. All of my movements are unnaturally slow and a little awkward. I think about wanting Belgium chocolates. Those Fruits De Mer are amazing.

"I hate uncontrolled environments."

I walk out of the living room to the front door, and throw it open. The cold air hits me pretty hard and I'm taken aback for a moment, shaken. I think about going back inside but there are plenty of trees around and I'm determined now.

"Come on."

[Hilja Kukkanen/Sasha Pisarev]

Note: I think we need more socialist characters.
"That's a brave idea, but I am not sure that we could do that without getting caught and put into a labor camp or Manalist prison." I reply to Tuesday. I sigh, since it is very frustrating. I try to focus my mind on something though.

"You know, long ago, my party would always celebrate Marx Mas. Maybe if we plan a little party for that, we can invite some potential allies. We could talk about your idea Tuesday, but maybe come up with other ones as well." I suggest to the group.

[Horacio Hatfield]

Horacio is horrified by the lack of organization between the nihilists, but it comes as little surprise. He watches Archer get on Bonifaz's nerves, then as talk of terrorism disolves into talk of a party. However, he is not displeased with that since he is against terrorism anyway. There is talk of masks and cutting trees. It gives Horacio a headache.

"Pardon me, but I don't mind the idea of a party. I know some anarchists that we could invite. Perhaps even some sociailists and other rebel sorts. Though...I am not sure how keen they would be on attending your party. You see....I am here..because I am an anarchist. I thought we might have some political things in common and wanted to see ...what you folks were all about." Horacio pipes in.

"As for cutting a tree, I am against it. There are not many trees left in the world. The ones that remain should be protected."