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An unprecedented event has occurred. The Oracle has addressed the community of Redpills. She sees vast darkness coming. That she has exposed herself in this public manner suggests the gravity of the developing threat.

She told Redpills this:

"I don't know if there were flies in the Garden of Eden. But we have them in the Matrix. It's a problem.

"These aren't just pests. They spread a sort of disease. This program, The Assassin, is taking his function of disposal to extremes. The Matrix can be stressed beyond its ability to self-repair. This could be the time that happens.

"I can't see beyond certain choices. The future depends on what you choose.

"Earlier, you chose well. You managed to destroy the Corrupted, the great man-shaped swarms. That was the first step.

"Now smaller Corrupted, the RSIs of helpless bluepills consumed by flies, stalk the Matrix. They must be eliminated. Only then, when these false aspects of The Assassin are gone - think of them as his projections into fourth-dimensional space - can his true aspect be destroyed.

"That's the one that wears the mask. It killed Morpheus. My friend.

"That time will come, if now you can destroy the Corrupted."

With this wind at their backs, redpills of Zion and the Machines set out to challenge the Corrupted wherever they would manifest.

More hesitant, due to Flood's announcement in the recent Sentinel hack page, were those of the Merovingian's organization. The Assassin, after all, at one point served the Merovingian.

But this hesitancy was not universal. The untamable Lupine Ookami led some Redpills against the Corrupted. Perhaps she felt the threat to the Matrix (it is evident to any skywatcher) was worth defying her master. Perhaps she simply wanted to spite Flood, with whom she shares a reciprocal loathing.

This led the Assassin himself to attack Ookami. Perhaps he was rankled that a peer in his organization should join the assault. In any event, Ookami was grievously injured. Why she did not die, given the Assassin's powers, is a mystery. Could he be weakening?

The answer to that question could be crucial. For the attack on Ookami will have ramifications.

Thats the gist of what she said and then some.

Im sorry they deleted your post h4te, i got to read it and frankly i quite agree, i made a huge, and i mean very huge reply expressing my dissapoitment and anger about the crash and what should be done and while replying your post was deleted and in the process so was my reply, once again:

Hurray For Hidden Censorship!

At least the information leak had some good i suppose.

Darminian

Name your price.

~Darminian

Jacobs Ladder - Yesterday Night:

He sat in the same small lounge area he'd sat months ago - alone this time - his guest recently deceased. He marveled at how amusingly dark it was as a whole, he'd been there with the machinist liason back before it all -back before the majority of the hostilities - back when the general had pointed out the briefcase to the Zionist higher ups. The words echoed in his head from so many days ago - brought on by the events of that night.

You know it will happen sooner or later - for the sake of the system.

It happens to everything - though I imagine it won't be for a few years until that should happen Darminian.

All the same - you should be aware- they'll delete you when they are done with you.

I'm aware - I've accepted it - it's a part of the system - but again I'm sure it won't be anytime soon.

He chuckled as he knocked back his drink at the bar, turning he looked around the area. The club was empty save for the few stragglers that never left the raves and dances in this city. He throws a bill on the bar and moves toward the door - a clicking catches his attention as he stops and turns. Turning he finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun, a slender hand wrapped around the grip, a delicate finger pressing lightly on the trigger.

Lets take a walk.

You know you can have my number - I don't need all the show.

Funny scumbag - lets go.

He chuckled as she motioned towards the stairs leading to the VIP rooms above Jacobs Ladder. They moved up the stairs - her gun on him the whole time, they moved to the room at the very back and he moved through the doorway.

If your thinking what I'm sure you are, I'd like to at least know your name.

His chuckle was interrupted by a pistol whip to the back of his head. He fell to the floor rubbing the back of his head, and turned to look up at her. She pulled the hammer back on the pistol - and pointed it at him. She wore black from head to toe - and thick black shades to cover her eyes. Sizing her up - he noticed the peace she was holding was the new agent magnum.

Machinist eh - well I'll keep an open mind - suppose it'll get rough though.

She fired a round into his leg as blood splashed up covering a good part of the room.

Still got anything else to say terrorist?

Through gritted teeth, he chuckles and forces out:

What's your sign?

She moved forward and stepped on the hole that was where his calf had been, he moaned in pain and sucked in a deep breath through his teeth.

What no foreplay?

She put a fierce kick forward into his chest and sent his back colliding with the floor. Standing over him she put her gun at his face and finally replied.

I'm going to ask you some questions - you're going to answer them.

I've never really been into the dominatrix thing - but whatever you're into.

Her eyebrows moved closer together and she gritted her teeth - it was a cross between a cry of anger and annoyance as she raised the pistol and cracked him in the jaw again - sending a few teeth and some blood across the floor near his head. He grunted in pain and shut his eyes.

How do you want me to answer questions if my jaw is broken exactly?

You can write them in blood if you keep it up smart *CENSORED*.

He spit out some more blood and chuckled - the crimson pouring down the side of his mouth and staining the teeth he had left. He started to say something but she cut him off.

Shut up!

He grinned in his usual devilish manner.... With just a bit more blood.

Now - what did Tim give you and the rest of the neo fan club?

He remained silent that same grin on his face - watching her reaction.

Answer me! She shouted as pushed her foot harder into his wounded leg.

He sputtered out blood as he chuckled. Not very efficient my dear - you order me to be quiet and answer your question? God I'll feel insulted if they sent you specifically.

Listen you scum bag - if you don't start giving me some answers I'm going to make your life a living hell.

He chuckled recalling that famous line from way back when. Sorry dear- I'm really not interested in a relationship with you.

She took off her shades and threw them at the wall - she nearly shook with rage as her eyes widened and brow tightened, though gritted teeth she spoke again.

Alright you *CENSORED* - you want to play hardball - let's play hardball.

She moved the gun from his face to his lower abdomen......lower, lower abdomen - this time she grinned. The grin on Darminians face wained ever so slightly.

What did he give you people?

Everything.

Again she pulled the hammer back on the gun.

I know he didn't have any connections to the machines mainframe - they cut them off when he got kidnapped.

So then why are busting my uh...... why are you on my case about this?

Cause something doesn't fit - you boys are too cocky to have nothing.

Maybe were just happy to have one upped you and we don't really have anything.

Yeah - or maybe you're going to tell me - or I'm going to disarm you.

Tell you what?

Why did you bring him to the white halls?

For cinematic effect.

I'm not going to ask again.

She forced the gun forward into an .... Uncomfortable position.

The machine halls dear - the white halls are an interconnection of every place in the matrix and some places not quite in the matrix. Why what a delightful place to bring someone whose lost touch with his machinist roots but still holds oh so many machine secrets.

So what - you could have gone anywhere in the matrix big deal - what did it do for you and yours?

For my people - it didn't do anything - it's what it did for him.

What?

He's a program dear- a program with machine access.

What did he do?

He chuckled.

What did he do!?

She shouted now - Darminian was aware he was playing a dangerous game but her reaction was amusing.

They are the gateways to all the answers and secrets of the matrix - and the machines have always had the keys. What do you think he did my dear?

poppycock - they cut him off from the source he couldn't have given you anything relevant.

You seem to think the source and the matrix aren't connected anywhere - now let me ask you - theoretically - if they were, where would one find the gateway to it?

poppycock.

Of course it is - were just cocky cause we've got a bunch of e-mails from *CENSORED* we've known for as long if not longer than you. And everything I've told you now is a lie.

She blinked a bit and closed her eyes. This was his window - he withdrew his Lancet revolver and blasted the magnum from her fingers - she held her hand as blood poured down her wrist. He picked himself up off the ground and hobbled toward her - she backed up slowly till her back hit the door she'd come through. His smile returned.

If everything I told you was a lie- and I told you I was lying what would it mean?

She blinked once and her eyes rattled left to right as she worked through what he asked. When her eyes came back to meet with his - the bullet ripped through the front of her head. Popping some health pills he left the RSI and her pistol behind and moved out to the subway near by.

Darminian

Did you get it?

Of course i got it - you think i would have wasted my time with a group 3 times as large as ours for nothing?

And - it's just like a modified code bomb - instead of displaying the code - it just scans and records it - tracing specifics and deeply detailed information about the system. But it can follow through and tap machinist mainframe information.

The stranger he spoke slammed his fist into the wall with a grunt.

*CENSORED* - so we could have had their intel today? Could have gotten their mainframe details if we'd just fended off the machines?

Just. He chuckled. Yeah i suppose we could but thats the price you pay for not informing your own operatives about your devices until last minute - hell i was impressed we even got an org message - i didn't think he knew who we were. The chuckle continued as he typed something in.

How can you be laughing about this?! - They foiled our plans - doesn't that infuriate you?!?!

No.

But - but we were so close and they stopped us!

Yeah.

What's wrong with you?!!

You make it sound like those were the only two code pulse devices we have.

I....wha.?

He closed his eyes and chuckled a bit.

The machines think they scored some great victory for themselves today - in fact all they managed to do was get two devices. You know how many are around the city? You know how many are in the matrix? How many we can have if it becomes top priority?

No.

If you did - you'd be in a better mood for chuckling.

Darminian

To the few of you that enjoyed this event i congatulate you on being a lucky individual for those of you, like me, who didn't feel free to rise in anger as you read this:

Well what wonderful event we had, what with all the crashing and running and missing out on things and mistakes being made who had time to even stop and enjoy the uh.... the uh..... secenery?

So lets begin with the leak, Walrus, im sorry but that was just stupid, plain and simple, and almost everthing that went wrong today can be blamed on that. How many people woulnd't have known the locations were it not for the leak? Too **bleep** many, too many people that ended up lagging most of us out and crashing the server.

But keeping with the theme of going in order, at least you guys rectified the problem.... several hours after the fact, when everyone had made themselves a nice copy (yes i did, its a fool who doesn't use the information he can get, besides at first i didn't even think it was a mistake) so then we all move past that and begin the stream of terrible events which comprised an even more terrible compiliation or whole event.

So we start off with a new cinematic about the General and the helicopters, and of course the helipdas come to once again serve no purpose. But at least we had the criticals.... which proved extremely hard to accomplish for any level 50's not to mention entirely clashed with most peoples beliefs about new people in the matrix aswell as the dealing with those who seek peace with you.

Anyways we finish these criticals to find once again there is little relevance to the main threat at the time, im not the critcals aren't important, they just weren't for what was going on at the time.

Finally after the criticals it became time to ... wait for i, soemthign entirely new to this community.... "wait for something to happen" and after a day something did happen. The oracle showed up at Debir Court. Wow, what an amazing thing i mean this is the oracle, the person respnsible for helping morpheus find the one and helping neo find out he was the one. And of course as the 300 peope flock to the area and wait to here her speak what happens...... The Debir courts crash, the whole area becomes locked down and no one can get in. I was annoyed because i was near the bench she sat on, and i could tell she was there beacause of the LET shield was in place, but then i crashed.

Well that was a terrible occurance but i was sure it wouldn't happen again, and besides thanks to the leak, i knew the gist of what she said anyway.

So the next day Niobe shows up, here to encourage us to stay strong and be ready for Flit Guns and the fight ahead of us, also we get to learn about who the biggest spammers of all are: Tyndall, Flood and Agent_Pace.

Of course we all flock to meet niobe and well we show up to attend.... wait for it, something not easily predicted, we crash again, i say we reffering to those that did since apparently the are didn't go down.

Well once agian the leak allowed me to know what she said so i was merely ready for the flit gun. Saturday now and after wishing tyndal to *CENSORED* and loading my Flit Gun we hear rumours that today the assassin is scheduled to die, everyone takes up posistion and ..... waits for somehting to happen.

Well after he shows up and runs around a bit, manges to waste another day of my life he leaves and that was saturday.

Sunday, the big day, "the Death of the Destroyer" here we are waiting in our area of choice to attack the assassin, waitng.... waiting.... and waiting.... finally what comes? A truck load of people who half of which attained their locations though false means but it doesn't matter much anyway since in retrospect the players potsed freely the decriptions. So we move around and get set up and..... wait longer.

We tune in to the radio to learn that vector and syntax seem to already be underway while we continue to wait. Finally as though a shinging beacon of hope for saving this pathetic event, the assassin shows up, and with the collective movements of people back and forth lags the server to an even 3 FPS (was about 1 fps for me and i cranked my graphics way WAY down.) and of course the select few who have better computers than cars and houses, those who have computers with cooling systems and names most can't understand or even pronounce manage to bring the assassin to about 50% of his health.

As he continues to ping pong back and fourth (the area we were in was club avalon BTW) he comes back and.... wait for it: CRASHES THE **bleep**ING AREA WE WERE CHASING HIM IN! NOW THE TOILET FACED SOB COMES BACK WITH FULL HEALTH AND CAUSES MORE THAN A THIRD OF THE PEOPE THERE TO GET THROWN FROM THE GAME.

*gasps for air*

So finally he comes back and does some more ping-ponging and kills a bunch of us and runs away, later do we find out that he has been killed by (i don't even know who killed him, i was just gald it was over with) and thats the end.

Oh wait, an added bonus, Niobe will now be telling us how great we have done, no tyndall, don't talk for once in your meaningless existence, don't break from character just for us. So we get stuck in the biggest rush for Jacobs Ladder i have ever seen, HL's go down in Apollyon and the the areas directrly attached to it.

Finally as i start to run to Jacobs Ladder from Kedemoth Central, and i near Jacobs Ladder.... wait for it......

I Freakin Crash again. And whats worse, is i fail to jack back in at least 10 times (no lie) and when i do i fail to get to Apollyon or Jacobs Ladder. Instead i end up in Lemone, sitting with my Zionite Faction family and what do we have to show for it:

Get this: We have the **bleep**ing Faction tag glitch.

You wanna know what really fries me about this, is that two months back, Scarlet Prime, my faction was chasing the assassin. We actaully found him, when everyone else had thought he had left. We descended upon him and surrounded him. Do you know what he did? He sat down, he sat down and then when more Scarlet Prime members showed up, he Manually jacked out, no HL no phone just a good old fashion /exit.

I don't know what to think, i can't express my growing loathing for SOE for the poeple that want our money but don't want to earn it. They reduce the servers, put more poeple on them, and then put even more people on them by giving us alternative characters.

I can't, i can't for the life of me understand why i am still with this game, i know deep down its the community, its you people, you bastards holding back from leaving this pile of crap. I don't honestly know what to do anymore. I have come to a point where i don't want to be Neo, i don't want to be all powerful, i just wanna be able to run the game well and i want the Matrix Storyline to stop sucking and being so god damned irrelivant. If this is the indicator of the quality of future events for us, i don't think we should have stopped the assassin.

On one final note, seriosly whats wrong with this game, i play WOW and i run it like a dream, it runs fantastically and it has more people, more servers, more area, more things to do and more and better everything but it runs better for me. I don't get it.

I will say one positive thing about this event though SOE, at least now that its over, i can go back to playing WOW because the next event won't be here for what, another two months. BTW great original sotry line here with this one. Way to pull a friggin halo 2 on us. Well you know that assassin guy you were chasing months ago? Yeah, go chase him some more and this time use these terrible guns. Oh yeah the person who get the last "lucky" yeah thats right, luck not skill, shot can be the winner.

It should have been a one hit kill on the assassin, and the first person to shoot him could get the reward or at least the 3rd or 5th shot or something, cause he took like 1000 shots (like 2000 if he crashed) and the person who gets it is like hey im the greatest, it was the work of everyone that allowed you to get the final hit, so big whoop on you, personally i don't think there should have been indiviudal awards, at least not for that.

Although its hippocritcal of me, because i would want one, if i had given the death blow.

Also congratulations SOE you blew me out of the water, you actually produced an event that was worse than the hunt for Neurophyte.

Darminian

Message Edited by Darminian on 10-02-2005 05:21 PM

Message Edited by Darminian on 10-02-2005 05:21 PM

The cars tore along the winding roads going under over and through the city. The back of a parking complex, a wide alley with two people in it. The smoke swirls around them, one leaning on the wall the street light casting to his collar, his head in the shadows. The other with spiked hair, black suit with trench, shades with the code dripping off of them and of course that grin.

The burning ember from the cigarette flashed through the shadow that was his face, before smoke followed it out of the darkness. He cleared the smoke from the inside of his mouth before speaking.

Let's get this over with.

I agree.

Pulling an envelope from the inside of his trench Darminian handed it to the figure.

He opened it and flipped through disks stacked side by side.

It's all there.

I'm just checking - people these days aren't about honest business.

Honest?

Well the business parts of what we do - not the other side of it.

He put the cigarette back between his lips and removed a cell phone from his coat - he dialed a few numbers and held it to his ear. A sleek four door car pulled out of the base of the parking garage and pulled into the alley. The light reflected off of its perfect paintjob and tinted windows as it pulled up behind them.

You know my associate.

Darminian nodded as he looked to the side of the car. The driver door opened and she stepped out, a black cat-suit with the zipper extremely low in the front - it begged the question - where was she keeping the guns he knew she had.

Hey there boys, admiring my new car?

The figure in the shadows chuckled slightly. Like I said - you know Velena.

That name sake was perfect for her he thought to himself as he watched her slip from the side of the car around to the two of them. Despite his desire to remove her head, he remained calm as she stopped feet from them.

Quite so - is it all here?

All of it.

She replied his gaze not returning to her since the opening of the door. The only thing she loved more than hurting people was attention - and that was usually the intro before the former.

Keys.

But of course.

She reached down the wide open slit of her cat suit and pulled out the keys.

I bet those were cold.

Mm.

She dangled the keys from her slender fingers and waited for him to reach for them, like an animal and a toy. He held out his hand palm up, beneath the keys, no desire to game or give her that which she wanted. She grinned and flicked the keys back into her hand.

Maybe I should give you the tour Darm.

"Maybe I should break those slender little fingers of yours." Were the words that came to his mind as he remained silent and motioned for her to ‘lead on'. She waltzed with a wiggle that could break the focus of any man as she moved to the passenger door. Opening it slowly - a briefcase lay on the seat.

Your delightfully enhanced Halsey rifle, laser dot scope enhancement - long barrel light weight silencer - dual spiraled barrel for maximum velocity - hollow point rounds for all your ‘penetrating needs.' And of course Bipod and and code enhanced frame to aide with your systemic needs. It's an amazing piece Darm - I was impressed you'd requested it.

Mm. He was thinking about testing it out on her. She shut the door and moved to the back seat, opening the door - 4 boxes, two on each side rested on the seats.

These delicious little fireworks are all here to - quite the little punch too I might add. What kind of fiesta are you going to be having?

The grande sized kind.

He couldn't help but flash that smile - which he quickly swallowed when he caught himself. But she'd noticed and waltzed slowly to the trunk - dragging a finger along the frame teasingly. She reached the trunk of the car and bit her lips as she placed her hands on it, running them along in her drawn out attention grabbing way - she unlocked the trunk and opened it.

And of course- there is this special request.

He walked to the back of the trunk and stared into it. Inside bound, gagged and blindfolded she lay. Shivering slightly, half naked and scared - she tilted her head and whimpered hearing the voices. The gag tight enough to leave her marks on the sides of her mouth, the blindfold wrapped tightly around her eyes. He darkly chuckled staring down at the small frame.

Not bad.

Glad you like it Darm - she wasn't easy - but I guess she will be now.

The grin disappeared again.

You can think whatever you like - as usual you'd be wrong. Now - Keys please.

His hand went out again as he closed the trunk.

Ah you said please - how cute.

He barely resisted an urge to break her jaw.

You can do whatever you want to her Darm - she's yours now.

Dropping the keys into his palm, she waltzed over to the silent audience in the shadows just now finishing his smoke.

A pleasure as always Ki.

He said aloud as he moved to the front door and got into the car.

Take care Darminian he replied as he took the girl by the arm and disappeared through a door back into the parking complex with her.

The car tore out of the alley and disappeared into the sea of cars already twisting and turning around the city. Another day, another alley another exchange that goes unnoticed or so they are lead to believe.

Darminian

A heads up warning - this a thread dedicated to me whining about something that a majority of you either won't know or care about. If you don't want to hear it - or don't intend to at least comprehend what you read- then I'd urge you just to save yourself minutes of your life and skip this post.

So for the past two days the people that have heard about my quitting EPN have asked me what was up with it and the why - and the 20 questions nonsense. It wasn't until Alice asked me that I essentially unloaded onto her and left her like- what did I just get into - regardless of the friendly disposition she presented.

So there is a great mix of things that set me off about the other night - (the epn event which you can read about on the live events thread.) Essentially however it was just one of those things that pushed me a tad more than I was willing to put up with. So right off the bat I'll say this is going to be a tangled IC and OOC post where in which insulting anyone save for rarebit and the top dogs of running the matrix online isn't intended and I'll apologize personally if you take offense. However the things that have occurred just needed to be avoided by me - because continual interaction with such would be far too annoying and bad for my mental sanity.

Right off the bat - it's not hard for people to tell playing an EPN char isn't fun 9 times out of 10, the RP harassment and unwarranted insults as well as forced intention, bad mouthing etc. etc. makes it a rather discomforting type of game play- however as it's all supposed to be in name of the game - we let stuff slide and work past it. EPN exists as the players who play it - whether were hated or loved that's who were playing.

However - it's when people start doing things that screw us over as players- not as characters that sets me off to the point where I have to *CENSORED* about things. Right off the bat I'll take a stab at the belabored point about our ‘liasons'.

Taecross - the no good, leaking spy - drama causing cheating etc. etc. no good-nick as it were caused more *poop* for us than a lot of people realize. Especially since a majority don't know who he is. His actions were just phase 1 of Lesig *CENSORED* up royally. But the biggest irony concerning Taecross is that as much as anyone who knows about the inner workings of things here would tell you he was one of the worst liaisons around for his actions - he was and still remains the best in comparison to any other liason we had.

His attendance was crap, his tactics and response time was also lacking - but he was at least present for events, organized events for us, kept us up to date and actually stuck around long enough to develop relations with members of the EPN. So that's the conflict I've always had with him - that as much as I hated what he did - no other liason has been a fraction as good as him on our side of things.

Santia - she was introduced by Taecross- I met her the night before she was ‘officially' (I use the word extremely lightly) placed as a secondary liason to the org. I mished and we spoke barely 2 words to each other - and it certainly didn't get any better. She did two things as a liason - lead the epn into an event against the merrovingians where no one knew what we were getting into and it effectively lead to 5 EPN's not all even level 50 against an army of Mervs- the results quite obvious. So LESIG's lack of knowledge concerning the org or presence of us there- yet again screwed us to the point where we didn't have a chance.

And if you want an example of the liaisons stupidity and how we really didn't know anything about the event - she got the 5 of us (4 when I had to bail early.) to the club because it was supposed to be a party - which made even less sense - than said oh right ‘so-and-so' some lupine was there to give us intel. That's when things got worse etc. etc.

The second thing she did - was hold a briefing concerning taecross during the ‘taecross goes crazy' event. She was so stupid when it came to dealing with us as an org and a group of people - that she caused more than 50% of the EPN to walk out on her.

The kicker from that whole event was that the kid came forward and placed three ‘officers' (what a *CENSORED* joke) on probation for our actions in the whole affair. I was outraged because right off the bat and even now I defend to the end my innocence in the entire affair as I was unable to duel / fight Taecross even though I tried. I made a PM to the kid - I was surprised as hell to get a reply - and then I read it. Apparently I was lying and I had no reason to be proud of my actions..... yeah that was the first of several large straws that would break the camels back.

Outside of that probation meant absolutely nothing outside of the Kid not being around as much for events and communications - well gee - I guess everyone is guilty of that considering how long it is between events concerning him. (A little different lately but I'm getting to those.)

So then of course Santi - dropped off the face of the earth - as our liaisons seem to have this uncanny ability to do so. And we went a few months without one at all. Believe me when I tell you it's annoying then - but not nearly as annoying when it happens later. So after bitching and complaining, pm's and everything else - and being told to be patient - that LESIG is understaffed even though plenty of orgs have two liaisons - we finally get a new one Cremizi - yay! Whose *CENSORED* name alone shows how much of a *poop* anyone upstairs gives about our org.

Nothing - not one event, and barely had the brains to keep up with us. There was at least 4-5 evenings where I was jacked in and she jacked in for quite literally - 10 seconds. And Im not exaggerating for story sake - literally it would be ‘woah shes on - I'll send her a tell.' As im about to hit enter to send it - ‘Cremizi is offline.

It took me a month to finally sit down and chat with her- and I ripped her a new one about being a lazy liason who would most likely fall off the face of the earth like the others, and let us all down again. We talked for an hour or so - where in which she tried to assure me that wouldn't be the case. Fast forward a week - she's not jacked in since and it was only like 4-5 months ago Rarebit told me to be patient that ‘lesig is understaffed and were trying to find a new liason.' Yay lesig - proving to me that the players selected to do their jobs are more incompetent and lazy then the spammers I've grown to hate- hell who am I kidding they are probably the same people.

So whatever we deal with it - we have to wait for our liason - who by the by - when Cremizi did apparently exist for that 1 month - I spoke to rare like 3-4 times about how inactive she was and of course he said it was being fixed- like everything else in mxo - when there's a problem - they assure us it will go away if we stop asking.... And stop looking at it.... And stop worrying about the *poop* they still haven't fixed from god knows when.

But whatever- this and so much more is part of playing EPN - but at least we get events right. Like that event with the Code Pulse Devices. This event made me want to bash the kid's head in with a rock. Were all in place ready and waiting to be briefed by him - waiting for something - and we get a single tell message saying there are devices in two places.

Right off the bat - were is god damned org - why the name of titty-*CENSORED* jesus Christ on a bicycle would he not tell us where they were? It's pathetic enough as it was to put EPN up against the machines - cause we all know what the numbers are like - but then not only do we find out later then them there are devices -it's a *CENSORED* race to get to them. By the time any of the EPN had found the things they were defused.

And on an OOC note- what set me off here was that Rarebit didn't even *CENSORED* RP with any of the EPN's he treated them like NPC's and when they said anyting (mainly me standing over the defused bomb facing him [agent gray] - talking about the futility of the machine efforts - setting a perfect scene for the machine to crush my skull and prove machinist efficiency - he tells the mach's good job and takes off on his marry way. If I have to a lose an event - at least let me lose it - it's bad enough were all audiences to the story since were hardly ever a part of it - but I've become an audience to the failures of the people that I can't even control. And then of course- Michael falls off the side of the planet again - no words to us - no nothing - just ‘hey guys theres bombs somewhere here - gotta go.' So much for that event.

Throw on some more complaints to rare - who to me even admitted that whole god *CENSORED* event was in shambles and that ‘actions' were going to be taken to make sure those mistakes weren't repeated. Well that's really good - considering that wasn't touched on anywhere and I'd wager dollars to *CENSORED* donuts that no one said boo about it on the Lesig boards- thus showing Rare was happy to say whatever would get me off his back.

Then there was these events - these spur of the moment - no communication events. Michael shows up - says nothing new or valuable and takes us on a road trip to go and kill some NPC's - woo *CENSORED* eh! - I know that when I do a live event I want it to be like one of the 7 *CENSORED* missions I've already had to do 10, 000 god *CENSORED* times just to be where I am now. God - what a brilliant idea- Lesig so orginal - so valuable - so *CENSORED* lame. I've stopped counting the times I'd say they did something that hurt us -cause when im fuming my ability to count is usually gone.

But then - oh what I loved - I absolutely loved was the blatant demonstration that Rarebit/the kid didn't give a *poop* about his loyal followers - his org members. I get onto the mission team with him and two names- two names that don't belong attached to the EPN now - one of them ever.

Ettaric and Dezkreki - Dezreki, the guy has been an on again off again traitor whose been the cause of more jokes and **bullcrud** at the hands of the EPN organization than I can even fathom. At least 50% of the server thinks he's a moron - and the other 50% - to his own dismay - has no idea who the hell he is. He writes his god damned posts about how he wants to kill liaisons, kill the kid, work with vanil, overthrow the org and ultimately undermine it as a whole. And yet low and behold he's a top dog of it?!!? - this guy who caused more *poop* for us at the begginging of the whole affair than helped?

((again RP and OOC clash, I'll apologize if necessary. I know dezreki is just trying to spice things up with his own ‘unique' blend of RP and evil tactics - I can respect it - but quite frankly I don't feel he should be present within EPN - and couple that with not only is he in it - he's somehow got people in on every event when none of our group is told *poop* all until last minute.))

But hey - I mean he's supposed to be doing it all espionage-like so I can accept it and to be fair nothing is ever 100% though I'd still like to see it acknowledged - but then it's a game and like taecross said during dezreki's trial - it doesn't matter because he as a player has a right to be in any org. So ultimately it doesn't matter - the story doesn't matter - the events that compose the very realm we play in - don't matter. This is a recurring theme I've found on the EPN side of the fence and more over with this game as a whole.

But then Ettaric - whom in no way shape or form do I have anything against ooc, goes and makes a post quite openly explaining and stating that she kills like 50 bluepills randomly as a form of revenge against the cypherites - is on that team.

Ettaric goes and does something that EPN has been persecuted for doing on and off again - does it openly and by brute force - doesn't wake anyone up - just out and out kills them and the kid is fine with it. Everything is peachy fine - and he's an idiot and rarebit doesn't give a *poop* and it's exactly as I expected from point a.

But it gets worse. The event last night - oh my yes. We have to ‘hack the door' cause a shield is up preventing players from getting in -to enter a large building effectively with four rooms. The one were in, the one at the end of the hall and two side rooms. Now plot hole one right off the bat - we couldn't have just hacked the far door that Escondido was in - no we had to kill a bunch of NPC's who interestingly enough weren't even in our *CENSORED* way - and of course there is 100 of them all just standing in this facility doing nothing. Because that makes sense in every single light - and then the real kicker is - that once were all in once all the EPN are present - the door we came in isn't sealed, - it isn't blocked so its an EPN only event no, no - It's left wide *CENSORED* open for all of zion to show up and ‘help with our event' even though zion isn't working with us. And of course with zion comes the spam and the need for dev shields - yay. I know I went EPN so I could do events with Zionist, deal with Zionists and have Zionists crushing into every possible square inch.

Yet another dropped ball of the man ontop and that useless *CENSORED* LESIG team - oh and of course - we didn't have the ability to shoot Escondido from the open door - you know invisible walls which exist in the matrix left right and center are bulletproof.

For *messes* sakes - the room we couldn't get into had windows beside the *CENSORED* door - an idiot with a *CENSORED* baseball bat would have done a better job than 100 zionists, 10 EPN's and some super movie char.

Bra-*CENSORED*-vo.

And of course the entire time I taking shots at the kid and at the event - and I don't get so much as a reply from him - not so much as a word. Ettaric told me to stop a few times, but I was about ready to pop. So at the end of all of it - after we randomly kill a bunch of NPC's for no reason, and Zionists are everywhere - we get to walk into a room with Escondido and talk about a computer for 20 minutes - because don't you know it takes Lesig and LE Chars 20 minutes to say 5 *CENSORED* lines.

The kicker -at the end of all of it - no explanation no talk of meeting up to say anything to the org- just the patented LE good job guys - take care. /handshake 30 times to random people and then get ready to leave.

I was amazed when I got rares attention when I said I wanted to say one thing to him - I got a turn and he even looked at me - maybe he was trying to tell if demedrian was suddenly EPN or not. Because when your someone as inclined to paying attention as Rare you never make mistakes like that.

"I'm tired of your *poop* and I'm tired of this joke of an organization. If you want me to be a part of if it - you know where to find me."

And I left - the org, the faction and that building.

And a kicker - a final shot to not only my ego but to Darminian's - Not even a word was said about it on the live event thread. Perhaps it's just my ego getting in the way - but it seems to me when one of your ‘officers' leaves abruptly do to problems within the org - outside of my expectations (misplaced of course) something would have been said.

I mean it was my intention with such an action to at least stimulate something - some kind of comment, some e-mail some either insult or argument from the kid - some kind of desire on his part to keep Darminian as a part of the org that has been a joke for months running - but I was wrong. I must be crossing a line when I use logic - based on events in the past and other things. But hey - logically speaking - I should have known *poop* like this was the case from point a. My problem with this game is that it is a game - and that's no ones fault - but I think it's attempt and failure to be something more than a game as in the ‘matrix experience continued' just hurts the matrix experience.

I could go on - but affectively I'm tired, and need a drink. So yeah now I'm just floating around again at that familiar point where in which I see no side to belong to - EPN worked up until I realized it's useless - but then maybe every side is useless since I've left to avoid problems that I see kid as responsible for - when ultimately it's the people behind the characters that remain the same - thus the problems would to - wouldn't they.

I don't know - I can definitely see this leading to Darminian Hiatus time - because staying might just make me more angry or upset over *poop* that won't ever be the way I think it should.

You can't make everyone happy - I know this - but if your one of those people who isn't made happy - maybe it's good if you don't stick around.

Through this ordeal and experience I've realized why I stayed with this cause, and since he's not around for the time being - there's been little to no pull behind this cause - especially because he was the one who I'd vent to when *poop* like this happened - but hey who knows - maybe like the last 4-5 times I'll just end up back in epn (no I never left and came back I just stayed when I wanted to go.) and suppress my desire to mutany.

Darminian

((it's become increasingly difficult for me to produce NR posts i actually enjoy or even care about these days. Mainly since the nullification of the whole NR area in my eyes by the higher ups of the matrix online, in any case i don't really like this post either but i already wrote it and it's got a violent ending so i enjoyed that part. Anyways voila.))

A small café on the east side of Richland, the spiky haired individual suited with sneakers, the man across from him, a messy suit, pale skin and general sense of detachment with his surroundings.

It's not pretty, but it's the truth.

That seems so .... So, well impossible.

I didn't say it was easy, merely the truth.

So now what?

Well now I guess it's time to choose which world you want to be a part of.

I don't follow.

Withdrawing the small silver case from within his coat, he placed it on the table and slid the lid off, the shining blue and red objects placed carefully upon the black velvet interior of the case.

In one world, one chapter you've yet to write in the novel that is your life, you remain you. Jason Clarke- university drop out, suffering in a repetitive job, wandering throughout life with more questions then answers more visions than aspirations. More notes about society than attachments to it. A battery to the system.

Darminian paused to take a sip of his tea. Scowling slightly at the taste, not the Asian style he had preference to.

In the other you're the newly awakened Jason Clarke, perhaps going by an alias of your choosing. Now lost in the choices that surround you, who to fight for who to fight with. What to believe in - what truth is for you, and the question that plagues us all early on finally answered.

What is the matrix?

He nods with a slightest outline of a smile on his face.

So.... What now?

Red or Blue my friend. Red means you see how far down the rabbit hole really goes. Blue means you stay in the dream living the life you lead now.

He reached towards the case slowly.

There is a price for either choice, not nearly as severe as what it once was.

What?

If you take the red pill you give up the life you lead now, all the pleasantries, all the nice things. The friends you might have, the family you know - the things about this place you might appreciate. You can never come back to this exact life, you can have others if the system deems you worthy of re-connection to the matrix - but you will no longer be Jason Clarke.

He nodded slowly, taking it all in.

If you take the blue pill, all of this will be dream you may never have again. Each day wondering if it was more than a dream and if your chance to learn the truth about our world and lead a life that could perchance mean more to you. And everyday you will have second thoughts that might plague you.

His hand went back to his side as he stared down at the table.

Right now you stand on an axis that you control, you stand at a threshold that only you can cross or walk away from. I only offer unto you the choice, I have no preference in what you choose- as it affects you and not me.

Then why do this, why seek to ‘free me' as you've said?

Because I think we all deserve the chance to choose, and I know you like me are longing for something more than the reality you live. Why should a machine decide our fates when we have the ability to control it. You need to think carefully before you choose.

Just then the front of the café door opened, a man in a black trench with a grey mask on stood in the frame. The man behind the cash register skin turned to a ghostly white, as he watched the cypherite move towards the table of the two men.

Are you Jason Clarke?

The blue pill looked at the masked man and squinted slightly.

Yeah, what's up?

You need to come with me right now, your life is in danger and this man is going to get you killed.

Darminian rolled his eyes and followed it with a sigh.

Jason this is a cypherite, he is effectively the yin to the yang I've established with you. He's going to tell you that I'm lying and that you should either run or take the blue pill. His baser goal is either spiting me or keeping you from the truth.

I'm saving his life- before you get him killed. Now Jason - come with me.

I'm not going anywhere.

There you are, he's made his choice and he doesn't want to deal with you, you best run along my masked friend. Besides I think you're disturbing the rest of the people here. And the cashier is getting suspicious.

No way - I'm not going to let you get another one killed - I'm going to protect him.

Why don't you just let him make the choice?

Because I know you lied to him, probably haven't told him anything about the real world.

How it's a barren wasteland, a dead earth and effectively like every cinematic portrayal of a post apocalyptic world?

The cypherite looked to Jason whose composure didn't change at all.

Uh.... Yeah. Ok, how about how the machines will hunt him down and kill him?

You mean how the machines will tear him limb from limb if he takes action against them, and he's more than likely to be hunted non-stop in the matrix if he takes action against the truce or the system?

So..... You told him the truth?

That's the only way they can make the decision themselves, what else would I have done.

I figured you would have force fed him the red pill.

Well, what's your next move then?

I guess I'm just going to have to kill you to stop you then.

And what about our friend Jason here, the trauma he'll suffer from seeing a murder in front of him over all of this business.

As long as he's safe -

Safe - you'll scar him for life. You might even ruin the life you're trying to save.

Shut up - you're not giving him the red pill.

It's up to him, not me or you. So why don't you sit down and let him choose.

The man in the trench sat down at the table and watched Jason reach out towards the box and take the red pill. Still unsure of which action to take, he could only watch.

Minutes later the two men in trench coats stood outside the café.

I trust you're ship is going to move in to pick him up?

Nah, one of the Zion pick up ships got him.

Hmm. Well I suppose you guys won this one, it's not about winning it's about the choice, but I'm not looking for a debate.

Darminian replied adjusting his tie and watching the traffic flying back and fourth in front of him.

I've got to say, you maintained your composure well, I figured I would have had to fight you or had to kill you.

Darminian chuckled.

I didn't think violence was the best route to take when dealing with one of the fragile blue pill minds of the matrix.

Suppose so.

Pulling his gloves more snugly onto his hands, he grinned.

Of course, now that he's gone.....

Without warning the masked man was shoved into the lane of the road ahead of them. Stumbling fourth he turned to face Darminian just as the vehicle collided with him. The cracking of bones preceded the body flying across the road and rolling limply across the ground, blood staining his path. As he coughed and spluttered on the ground, he heard the sound of the sneakers moving along the road, and could barely make out the suited individual standing over him.

Every, last, one.

The last three words he heard as the round from the lancet pistol spiraled out of the barrel and entered into the cypherites head.

((see violent ending, not nearly as much as i would have liked, but you make do. If you wanted more than i'm sorry.))

Darminian

/ooc

I've decided for the sake of my desire to stay in the matrix online, i'm going to need to stop doing things that make me want to hurt people. In this case it is Darminian's feud/war with the cypherites. Mainly their liasons.

I've come to accept that when a player is out-leveled and out numbered his desire to flag and be killed is gone, such is the case, but right off the bat i don't believe levels exist in the matrix cannon, so that's hardly an excuse to not flag, but hey that's players were never going to all get along, frankly im too angry and whine to much to be friends with the people out there who i think are retards and need to be purged from the gene pool. In any case, in my continual attempts to wage war on the cypherites or their liasons i've failed based on a lot of ooc nonsense, including the ever popular refusal to flag and enjoyable stand off we've all encountered where in which the words come to us?

'Why can i not just shoot you right now, there's no reason for this.'

Albeit players as i've said, is understandable i mean we break cannon and we always will, not to mention on a non-hostile server it's to be expected. And of course i expect to hear if you want to be on a hostile server go there, and i would if my 50 wasn't here. In any case what sets me off is low and behold our LESIG superiors as it were, our liasons and masterful RPers who are of course inclined to be better in the cannon then we are - are now the ones who sit and don't flag.

I can reference tons of points where it's annoying, between LET you want to battle or liasons you want to shoot but i can reference just a few that set me off recently.

The commando event where the sergeants met with the privates - on the final day (if you had the trascript/e-mail from merrit)

They met and the private gave something to the sergeant in regards of a report. I waited until the train pulled out of the station and broke stealth in an attempt to fight him and intercept this 'report'.

Instead i got to get declined in a duel, flag for nothing and watch and wait for the next train to arrive while this commando leisurely boarded it and left the system. I'm not saying he doesn't have RP to do, i'm just saying if this were anything remotely close to the matrix i would have either fought him there and then, or pushed him onto the train, not watched him leisurely walk onto it and call it a day.

A show down with vira conrida in debir court, i called her out, rain pouring quite cinematic to the point where she even had a chuckle about it, and we swapped banter back and fourth until i told her i was done chatting and it was time to fight, i got to wait about say 7-8 minutes for her back up to arrive and at the end of that she didn't even flag, well that was a fun event, but whatever i mean thats her charachter and shes a low level so it's all good...... i guess.....

Today after i convinced Escondido to come down to jacobs ladder to help a 'bluepill' i informed dezreki (as im aware he and his people are trying to rid the blue menace aswell.) And for the next 10 minutes i got to listen to dezreki ask for information that escondido would never give us (observation made from both ic and ooc) And finally flag after that, only to have to wait to here more about questions that were irrelevant. Finally i got to smack his head off the ground, and when i left i ran into him again, only to be denied the ability to fight him, even by him with a 'clever' line about running into danger as opposed to from it - which made me laugh oh so much.' As he still didn't flag.

Now i've not masked or hidden my vindetta at all - but low and behold apparently nothing works with these people when they'd rather banter over useless **bullcrud** as opposed to do anything relevant. Now when negotiations are based on - 'well i might have a kill code so tell me what i want to know' and the other guy saying 'well cryptos knows things abour the cypherites' i get fed up and leave.

Only to hear later that the cypherites have called in back up - which fair enough, theres plenty of them, and mobu is there - if his charachter is pro-cypherite or feels the need to help them that's all fine and good i suppose, there's also two high level mervs who show up.... i don't think they RPed in the slightest but lord knows they PVP'ed but thats a part of the matrix im not gonna *CENSORED* about it either, cuase who knows maybe their story is they work for the merv but enjoy bashing EPN people or work for the merv and the machines because uh.......

In any case as we sit there, namely myself dez and a few other HWEZ a bunch of other players who seemed to have no idea what to do for themselves (many exceptions apply.) We get to stand in front of vira, escondido a few cypherites the mervs, mobu and his simulacrum and so on. To hear them just going on and on about how shes happy she's killed people, but she's never never spilled blue pill blood, even though she did last night as an event (vira that is.) and so on and so fourth to the point where were standing in front of her talking about fighting and nothing is done.

Finally i've just had enough and i go and point out the stupidity behind this entire scenario - how if your going to stand there and pretend that were just not attacking you, you might aswell not even stand there, because case and point when Darminian's vindetta as openly displayed as his has been is around - he doesn't care what you have to say. But finally after this two blurb rant about how useless this kind of RP is, i leave the club to be informed now after i've said something Vira has flagged.

Well as we go back in - i find myself warring with these bloody mervs as opposed to the machinist or even the cypherites who were the main target, and when i finally avoid combat with them all the cypherites have left.

Now i know killing people with EJP is irrelevant but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen, and as i've already demonstrated to about every cypherite i've run into is enjoyable and going to happen with darm, *poop* like this still happens, im not saying it should cater directly to me, but if someone wants to fight you and you don't want to fight, you shoudln't *CENSORED* RP and hide behind game mechanics.

Anyways like i said, i'm done with the vindetta because trying to *CENSORED* RP just ends up making me angry and not developing into anything relevant. Also the fact that vira has already killed at least two blue pills, means shes affectively doing things worse than the EPN especially since it was intentional, but low and behold no one is doing anything about it, which amuses me. And was the motivator for Darm's vindetta which effectively has been nullified yet again by poor RP in my opinion. I welcome any and all other points of view on this subject right now, and i'm not looking for an arguement i'm just explaining why from here on in, cypherites are no longer a specific target for blinding rage for Darminian.

Darminian

It's all irrelevant Darminian - it doesn't matter. You of all people should know that.

The roof of the McClane Tower, - now a host to two men standing face to face. The highest building on the block, that meant nothing but sky surrounded them as they spoke. One in sneakers and a suit and a jet black trench, the other in a crimson coat with black designs dancing up along it's outside. His pale skin didn't seem too out of place in this city, but his reptilian yellow eyes did, through gritted teeth he continued to speak.

The system is dominated by only one force, action and consequence. Balance is what keeps everything moving - and no matter what you do or try to - there will always be a counter balance for your actions.

The winds from atop the tower blew past them, filling the void with a harsh whistle. His hair and trench gave way to the winds, whipping wildly within them, his demure remained motionless.

Cause and affect Darminian - everything that happens here happens for a reason. You and I are digits in a greater scheme, a greater chain of events. Anything that happens here and now is irrelevant. You cannot change what's happened - you cannot continue this path.

The coat blowing in the wind around him, his still maintained the dead calm, as he tilted his head to the left and right to crack his neck.

Then so be it - I am going to balance you - to put you back in your place Darminian. Know now - your death could have been avoided.

The exile reached into his coat and withdrew twin Mac 10's, the submachine guns roared as they chewed through their clips unloading round after round in Darminian's direction. On the opposite side - the trench that'd been dancing wildly in the wind - was whipped back into control by a savage movement - as his arm's dove into the coat and withdrew the twin bedlams and returned fire.

Bullets flew as they unleashed hell upon one-another, strafing, ducking and weaving beneath the hails of death, seconds would turn to minutes as bullet streams could be viewed overhead. The sounds around the tower itself were consumed by the gunfire until finally only the echoes of empty chambers filled the area. The two still stood, splashes of blood and casings lay on the ground beneath both of them.

You will not defeat me Darminian!

He shouted as he tossed his Mac 10's to the ground. Darminian, did the same with his pistols and began to walk forwards slowly. He could feel the hot blood, dripping down his flesh, the sting of the freshly landed bullet wounds, the stiffness in his body from the blood loss, but he continued to walk forward. The exile did the same, and they stopped but feet from one-another.

It's not too late to walk away Darminian - I know you're wounded.

Don't worry, I intend to walk away - as soon as were done here.

He reached yet again into that crimson coat and withdrew a blade, it curved slightly and held a serrated back side, little teeth like fangs that would tear the flesh not just cut it swiftly. He held it like you would to stab, and ran the back of the blade gently along his wrist, his hand was turned to the side, the other rested on the bicep of the arm with the knife. With a flick of his wrist he slashed outwards toward Darminian - the tip of the knife cutting his trench, the arm still extended he spun the knife around so the bladed side was now above his hand as he continued to slash forward.

He slashed from his left to his right - and caught Darminian across the torso - blood splashed through the air as another slash descended towards Darminian from his left. The bottom of his forearm collided with the exiles wrist stopping the blades descent, before he'd realized what had happened - Darminian had delivered crushing blow to his exposed torso - leaving him winded. As the exile tried to breathe in he felt his opponent grip his wrist and duck under his arm, he could feel it twist behind him - and then he felt nothing as the blade lodged itself into his spine

His whole body shook, as he began to breathe short quick breaths, his yellow eyes wide open, his lips parted in an attempt to speak - but merely the ghosts of a whisper left his lips. Darminian leaned in his mouth near the exile ear and whispered.

Perhaps your logic isn't mistaken, but you overlooked the possibility that I might have been here to balance your inequalities to the system.

Tears slipped from the exiles yellow eyes as a new sound filled the area.

The new sound that echoed across the rooftop was that of Darminian's running shoes walking away. The exile fell to his knees still shivering, but soon it slowed and stopped, every part of his body was motionless - and then, everything stopped.

Darminian

It's not on the market, and if i try to farm any more i'm going to burn someone.

WTS:

1 SSR Swat helmet - place bids now.

2 - Raeder's earpieces - place bids now.

~Darminian

That's what we'd become, templars of a cause not lost- just not right for us. We'd seen our own sides to the world's we'd once dwelled in, once called home. It wasn't for us - but then who was to say this would be. This wasn't some sort of new fangled path, it was a reevaluation on our collective opinions. What we thought was just, what was the truth and what should be fought for or protected.

So the three of us sat there, the monument in furihata- or at least the hardline cloest to it and decided. The higher-archy of the templar - at its finest - drawn from the depths of all sides - ex-epn zealots, merrovingians with a taste for business over servitude and of course machinists who'd not liked what they'd seen on their side of the fence.

It's almost amusing, a family formed of the fallen from broken homes. But each solid in thier own accord - ronin: masterless samurai united now. An oxymoron and yet.... so fitting. There would be more, at least i'd held hopes that this group of kin would grow - but swallowed down naieve dreams and hopes- that's always the quintessential way of protecting your dreams in this place, hiding them. To protect them from being shattered in the name of war, the name of effecienncy - even the name of freedom. But then, it really depends on what you choose to dream of.

Ours was something else, something different, no dreams of fame or fortune, dillusions of power or control - merely unification under context of our beliefs, it was as curious as it was intriguing in the light of what i'd been used to. Always the vizeer never the leader i suppose.... or in this case a high templar.

It's not really a pre-determined path,no previous arch-type we could be grouped into. Not mercenaries and yet... willingness to do what we must regardless ofwho it would be for. There was little doubt in my mind that we'd end up hovering in a realm between zionist views and the EPN, but there was more in the arrangement of beliefs. There was that merovingian taste of business, lets say finishing the paint job but in shades of grey. Not always the most pure and good ways of dealing with things - but some ends could always justify some means.

I doubt that even she could see what is comming for this group.... if anything. But it wouldn't change it's pressence or it's rise - whether it be flights of stairs or just a few steps. Regardless of what would happen, what we would become we would still all be the same....

I'd still be what i was, still the same....

Still a Broken Templar.

Darminian

A twisted mesh of lights and bodies all fluid in motion filled the floor of the club as the mix of techno-metal filled the air. The writhing masses moved and twisted in accordance with the controlling sound and truly a spectactle of personalities was to be enjoyed. The mish-mash of the leather clad and near-nude bodies increased the seductive nature of the whole accord as the personal spaces of each person was infringed upon comfortably. The erotic and inviting sights of the vixens and the counter part for those concerned with it - did it's best to pull everyone in. But not everyone was gripped - Darminian leaned on the railing swirling his drink taking in the sights below. Amongst which was the gal with those deep chocolate eyes- those same eyes that to try and deny could leave you broken. He grinned as he knew this effect would work on the one they wanted. He watched her pass through the crowd and could only imagine that if she'd caught anyones eye it would appear as though the crowd parted - and perhaps that was the way it did appear to their target for the evening.

He sat in a love seat, his arms running along the back of it, trying so subtley to move around the necks of two succubai who'd done their best to look more human this evening. One can never tell if they come out for sex or sport, interesting entities to say the least. The brown eyed beuaty approached the couch, her outfit that classic kind of attractive - that subtle and none-to over the top look, but with her eyes and body language and man's mind did wander. The grin doubled on the exiles face when she got closer to him, the succubai on the left gave a harsh look, the one on the right flashed another smile. Without going futher into detail the words 'interesting entities to say the least' - come to mind.

You could almost see the alluring nature of her words drift through the air and into the exiles mind as the arms that had been around the succubai now clung to his sides, most likely holding off to the urge to cling to her. She lead him up the stairs and out of the club, down into one of the many dark and dangerous allies of mega city.Rat's scattered at the sounds of footsteps in their alleyway, and the two of them intwined against the wall, her on the outside forcing his hands against the wall. He giggled excitedly and bit his lip, he seemed to like it rough, but he had no idea what he was in for. In a mix of half hearted kisses and groping he never even saw her withdraw the syringe from the inside of coat, he felt it though.

Ugh! - You little *CENSORED*!

He motioned to backhand the girl but wasn't near fast enough, she side stepped the blow and backed up slowly, that same inviting grin now adorning her lips in a much more sadistic fashion. He gritted his teeth and fumbled in his coat for his weapon but found nothing as he fell to his knees the alley began to spin, and the shapes blur, looking up slightly he could see his weapon in her hand. The nimble groping fingers had an objective not an interest.

The faint sound of clapping could be heard echoing through the spinning alleyway, now growing darker and darker, approaching them down the alleyway was the silhouette of a a man in a dark trench coat. Before the alleyway completely dissapeared, he could make out the code dripping down the shades of this silhouette.

....

Ugh -

The exile moaned groggily as a pungeant aroma brought him to his sense, he couldn't recognize the smell but it was strong. He blinked and it stung his eyes slightly as he felt a liquid being poured over him. Squinting as to avoid the splashes of the unknown into his eyes - he could see the man with the code drenched shades with a gas can. As the fuel splashed up his front and landed near his face he spit and blew it off of his mouth.

What the hell are you doing?!

Shut up.

He replied calmly as he finished emptying the conents onto the exile in the chair. As he gagged and choked from the smell he began to panic and move. he soon realized he was bound to the chair and tried to look around the room but couldn't see anything he recognized. A small garage or a storage locker with a dim bulb clinging desperately from a wire attached to the ceiling and flickered faintly.

What are you going -

Shut, up.

Placing the can down on the ground, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the zippo lighter. He watched as the exiles eyes widened in fear, as he reached into another pocket and withdrew the pack of cigarettes. Sliding one out he put it between his lips and lit it, inhaling it slowly he let the embers flare up and burn down the thin stick. With an evil grin he flicked the embers towards the chair. The imediate result of the motioning and flinching of the exile.

Hey man - cut that *CENSORED* out!

Rocking awkwardly in the chair, he split it out with some profanities attached. Suddenly more awake then he'd perhaps ever been. He looked around the room in a panic and took note of the silhouette of a feminine frame standing to the side of the room. He couldn't make out who it was, but he knew - his memory wasn't gone, nor his anger - but that wasn't the area of interest.

I suppose you've met the lovely gal to my left no?

Motioning towards the silhouette while playing with the zippo lighter and enjoying how uncomfortable it made the exile he waited for a reply. The same girl stepped from the shadows, the one who'd brought him into the alley, her face held a subtle grin to it, most pleased with her work in this ordeal.

You stupid bit-

The backhand brought blood to his lips as darminian re-adjusted his glove.

Show a little respect to the lady or else i might miss the point of this whole ordeal. We're going to play a little game called, tell me what i want to know. Imagine it's like a really easy video game where you only have one life. Fairly simple concept no?

The woman at his side giggled slightly.

What's happening at Cyclo on tuesday night?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Again, i have to say one life.

He said, flicking the lighter open again, the dancing flame leaning towards the exile- who now pressed himself back into the chair.

An auction.

What's being sold?

He asked as he closed the lighter.

RSI scanners.

So that's where all that stolen equipment ended up eh. Whose responsible for the sales?

Word on the street is that it's a group called scanner - scanline or something, i dunno.

What time is it happening?

9pm mct.

That i think sums up all i needed, now it's just a matter of finishing the job.

Wh-what do you mean?

Loose lips sink ships my friend.

Darminian's grin twisted sinisterly as he moved towards the door, the gal with him opened it for him and they stepped out into the moonlight together. She cast a look back in direction of the exile and blew him a kiss, as Darminian re-ignited the lighter and cast it towards the chair. They closed the door to the storage locker and moved to a black cidan parked near by.

Darminian

We've all felt disconnected from the 'world' around us at some point or another, but that can reign especially true of this place.

Perhaps you were of something great once and not now - now you, like us, find yourself somewhere seemingly out of place - out of touch with those around you simply in being who you are. The normal thing to do is to move to another aspect - those that still want peace but need to escape the redundance head to the machines. And those that cannot help but appreciate the finer things here - and grow tired of the uselessness around them flock to the frenchman. Others file out into sub groups of each - the cypherites and EPN - but there are those that remain.

We are the spectres of ash - born again beings of old. Each from a time or path that was their own - now wandering elsewhere, a journey leading them to this family, this group of beings. Of code and of flesh, we stand on the edge of a world ready to burst at the seems veiled in what is called 'truce' - it becomes necessary regardless of how much of a sham it is - that it must remain in play.

As must both the worlds that of zion and of code - yet there is still much to be fixed here and there, still much wrong to be undone. Corruption, greed and control - even genocide to an extent viewed by so many as irrelevant. The rules being made cannot all be broken - but some must be to do that which is necessary. In a world painted in shades of grey - one must find the darker and lighter in order to guide thier own path.

We're not going to be celebrities - stars of the matrix. Famous or infamous captains and operatives - we simply are the Broken Templar. There is no room for the blinding arrogance of being known across the matrix - no use of the ego that consumes the people who seek so desperately to have it stroked. There is only the thirst and quest for knowledge, and the truth that comes with it. Our fingers able to pluck and pull the threads that underly the very fabrics of our reality and un-reality. But this choice, is as always only yours.

Of all the things this group will be - the key remains in family - a connected group of Ronin - there is no blind leader no headstrong commander seeking fame and power - merely a group whose goals lie in the betterment of things for those who can be helped. But politics are not so easily explained via a simple broadcast - and if one should wish to learn more - the first step is to venture through the threshold of curiosity.

Ask and ye shall receive.

The Broken Templar.

The following signal has been relayed after a timer.

====================================

To those that this resides with -

I'm leaving, something is happening beyond my understanding and knowledge and i need to get out, i need to take care of it, by the time anyone has this transmission i'll be long gone, there will be no point in tracking me as i have no desire to be found by the likes of anyone.

To those concerned for my safety or return, i would like to promise you of such a thing, but nothing is ever guarenteed. All i can say is that i'll do my best to make it back in one piece. I wish there had been more time, but i barely managed to get this out before i needed to abandon the terminal i used to create it.

Family - take care of yourselves.

~D

=====================================

Logs of the Broken Templars main vessle the hovercraft schorched horizon have been whiped clear of the last week, and the crew members are unable to locate their captain.

Any and all knowledge of the whereabouts of Darminian are unknown at this time, but rumor has it he's somewhere in the real.

I picked it up but it doesn't work well with my RSI as such im looking to trade it for something of value, as such not info, let me know if you might have something i'm interested in - i'm willing to take overide fragments.

~Darminian

The man doesn't believe in phone booths or cars, you can figure it out, the hell if i have any idea what his game is, but just chatting with him for 5 can flip you out.

Drebo is what he goes by down there.

We've all felt disconnected from the 'world' around us at some point or another, but that can reign especially true of this place.

Perhaps you were of something great once and not now - now you, like us, find yourself somewhere seemingly out of place - out of touch with those around you simply in being who you are. The normal thing to do is to move to another aspect - those that still want peace but need to escape the redundance head to the machines. And those that cannot help but appreciate the finer things here - and grow tired of the uselessness around them flock to the frenchman. Others file out into sub groups of each - the cypherites and EPN - but there are those that remain.

We are the spectres of ash - born again beings of old. Each from a time or path that was their own - now wandering elsewhere, a journey leading them to this family, this group of beings. Of code and of flesh, we stand on the edge of a world ready to burst at the seems veiled in what is called 'truce' - it becomes necessary regardless of how much of a sham it is - that it must remain in play.

As must both the worlds that of zion and of code - yet there is still much to be fixed here and there, still much wrong to be undone. Corruption, greed and control - even genocide to an extent viewed by so many as irrelevant. The rules being made cannot all be broken - but some must be to do that which is necessary. In a world painted in shades of grey - one must find the darker and lighter in order to guide thier own path.

We're not going to be celebrities - stars of the matrix. Famous or infamous captains and operatives - we simply are the Broken Templar. There is no room for the blinding arrogance of being known across the matrix - no use of the ego that consumes the people who seek so desperately to have it stroked. There is only the thirst and quest for knowledge, and the truth that comes with it. Our fingers able to pluck and pull the threads that underly the very fabrics of our reality and un-reality. But this choice, is as always only yours.

Of all the things this group will be - the key remains in family - a connected group of Ronin - there is no blind leader no headstrong commander seeking fame and power - merely a group whose goals lie in the betterment of things for those who can be helped. But politics are not so easily explained via a simple broadcast - and if one should wish to learn more - the first step is to venture through the threshold of curiosity.

Ask and ye shall receive.

The Broken Templar.

Hello Redpills, shadow stalkers and exiles alike, i have -as i said- a business proposistion, I have recently come to the decision that when one decides to take action he needs more than words. He needs more than just his anger and his abilities.

In this world we live in, he also needs more than just a gun. It has come to my attention that what i need and what i seek are currently available, just not easy to get. As such i am putting fourth this offer so that the tacticul and resourceful individuals can recieve some benefit.

I am currently in the hunt of Code Bombs, these timed devices that reveal the code of certain areas and can trigger the Awakening of Blue Pills, these devices were used by Morpheus before he was "killed" by the assassin. They were also used by his supporters.

In any case, the business is this, i am willing to buy, bargain for, work for, alleviate and or exchange information and serivces for codebombs, there activation codes, de-activation codes and any-assorted data that we have on them.

As it stands i wouldn't ask anyone to reply to this thread for fear of being sought after as a traitor to the truce, or to their own organization. As such if you seek to do business with me, you can contact me around the mega city of Recursion, i am aloof in the world and shift through it so reach me via a tell.

You may also reach me at [email protected]" target=_blank>[email protected], business is business.

As for my purposes with the bombs, i wish to understand what they do and how they work, do i intend to use them? Perhaps, but then perhaps i intend to find out all that i can concerning their operation and use.

Then again, perhaps im just another misguided follower of a "dead" man, perhaps im just another sheep that shall be looked past and mocked. Those that would see me as a fanatic and an imbecille are unfamiliar with it means to walk the path you know you must.

Darminian

Methodical Madness..............

I sit here and reflect on all thats happened and it amuses me. It seems that no matter what course taken, no matter what actions and reactions we still have those who don't learn whats happening here.We still have those that sit around in this faulty idea of peace and casting out those who they feel don't count.

Its pathetic, pathetically amusing, we sit and watch, nay, we sat and watched as those with ideals and wisdom came fourth to show us the way, to show us action is the route to take, and words are nothing more than themselves. We have seen tyrants and heros and legends come and go, and yet we don't seek the right answers, the right paths.

We all want peace, but peace isn't simple, its not easily defined nor possible. Those who support peace here are hippocrites, those that would speak for it and then work for their organization to attack opposing operatives contradict the truce. Any that would come fourth and speak against action taking during the truce are foolish and hippocritcal and no one is above it, no one.

Do i stand for peace? Do i support peace? Does it matter?

Whatever we do, we must all come to realize that the only peace available to us, is the peace we don't want. The "peace" the machines offer. Yet, it isn't peace, its submission, its slavery its opression and the illusion of freedom. That is the only peace there is for machines and humans, and for the exiles its genocide.

Those who work for zion don't support the truce, how can they, zion's main goal is freedom from the machines and ultimately the destruction of the matrix aswell as the end of the machines. This isn't adequate for the exiles, nor those who wish to stay jacked in nor the machines.

And the exiles, are the ones who aren't in the truce, are the only ones who could truly support it since thier main objective is survival. The irony is almost to rich to be delicious.

So many sit here on the forums or sit around in the matrix talking about "what neo would do" and "what we should do" and that is useless, it is just talk just misplaced, un-logged data to be forgotten and hold no place.

Do i know what neo would do, do i know how to walk his path better than any of you, maybe, maybe not.

I may not know what he would do were he here now, but i certainly know what he wouldn't do;

He wouldn't sit around talking about what to do, he wouldn't waste his time watching what he gaves us fall to peaces due to everyone not individuals or even fanatics. He would take action, action in his own belief and his own ability.

Hence, everyone must walk their own path, everyone must follow their beliefs and do what they think, nay what they know is right. Who is right in the end? No one and everyone, everyone is irrelevant in the end, there are no right or wrong answers or actions, merley actions and reactions. As such when it ends, when its all over and we stand on the brink of destruction and rebirth, it comes to this.

When you look back, will you be sorry you fought for what you belived in? Or will you be sorry you stood by and did nothing.

The few that have stood for their beliefs against all odds, against all opinions and ideals have risen to greatness here, not one has risen to greatness through ease or through support from everyone, but sometimes you must do the unthinkable, the incocieveable and the impossible to reach the unattainable.

I am tired of talking, tired of sitting idly by and shall no more stand for injustice, as i wish to serve neo's purpose, to find the one to bring peace to us all, i must first accept the death of the last one, i must recieve closure -if you will. Therefore the only objective is to regain neo's body. NEgotiations have been attempted, but to no avail because the truth is even the machinist puppets who dance on the strings of the machine overmind don't know the truth of neo, nor do they have justification of keeping his body from us.

His body belongs in zion, and he desveres a public place within the matrix, the machines have done neither and they don't intend to, its not right and everyone one who isn't stupid should realize this. Everyone who feels they don't owe him something are blind, the reason were still here, is because of him, and for that we are all in debt.

Those who doubt his body belongs in zion, i only have one question for you, where is his home in the real, no answer will change the fact that he lived in zion, and his resting place should be there, his code itself is within the matrix, so his body his flesh belongs in zion, it belongs with the humans.

The human part of the one, belongs with the humans, there can be no other way.

Cast your looks, opinions and judgements upon me, for faith shall be my shield and guide.

Darminian

Methodical Madness......................................

(Brilliant picture provided by Endless Void.)

================================

A vile and thick fog filled the streets of mega city as pale moonlight clung to the outlines of shadows and illuminated the mist. Block after block of the city was completely deserted and empty save for the
silvery fog rolling around aimlessly, ceaselessly spreading. The street lights flickered quietly to themselves, as if silent resistance to the fog was slowly failing them as even their light did little more
then fall easily into the nothingness below. A trip down a small alleyway, not even a side street would yield the sight of two men outside a rough looking metal door, the first was pressed against the wall,
his arm held behind his back. The other held it in place with ease as his eyes looked over the door.

"This is it then?" The one staring at the door asked.

"Yes!" The other replied in agony his resistance only causing him more pain.

With his free hand he reached down and opened the door, and stared curiously at the door on the outside of a building that lead to the outside of another building. With a twist of his occupied hand he forced
his friend through the door and followed closely behind, closing the door after him. They emerged on a street facing a small city block, but behind them there was a seemingly endless ocean of grey nothingness.
Tree's and cars floating around at different heights, a pink and blue sky painted above them but below the city block was nothing - it seemed to float there aimlessly.

"What is this place?"

"Heck if i know but i showed you where it is - can i go now?"

"What? - Oh yeah sure, i'm done with you."

The man's scream filled the air for only a short while as he plummeted into the grey abyss below, his features growing smaller and smaller until he could be seen no longer, Darminian brushed his hands and moved
towards the city block. After wandering aimlessly for a short while he came across an area similar to debir court - it's strange familiarity was upset by an even stranger feeling in his gut. He moved across the
court taking in the sights and sounds, there wasn't the familiar echo of traffic or people through the area, but it seemed so similar - the faintest footsteps could be heard close by - very close by.

A gloved hand reached into his coat slowly before flying out of it with a pistol in hand. As he looked to where he'd heard the steps the gentle wizzing of the shuriken cutting through the air caught him off guard as it planted itself in his thigh. Where his aim rested he'd barely caught a glimpse of a long strand of material at around head height zipping by the dumpsters quickly. He lead the target on and fired a few shots, ripping the shuriken out of his thigh he chased after the target. Where the shots had landed there was a piece of stray material - a headband of sorts. His attention quickly turned to his side and he saw the target flee through a nearby door.

Minutes later he was creeping up on the target along the catwalk of a warehouse - her frame was slender and she wore a traditional style gi, her headband was something out of an old ninja movie he inched closer, sure he'd not been detected when to his absolute surprise she'd spun on the spot and kicked him in the head, sending him toppling over the edge of the catwalk. His body hit the ground with a loud thud, as he groaned in pain rolling onto his back and staring upwards - before he'd even turned all the way over his eyes caught the woman falling through the air towards him - her knees extended to collide with him. In the last possible second he rolled to his side and watched her collide with the ground, her eyes turned to look at him sprawled on his back with his pistol pointed right at her - two shots rang out and she crumpled to the floor.

Getting to his feet he began to dust himself off as he watched the cloud of smoke show up and the body dissapear - in the same instant a wrecking ball of force collided with his back sending him across the floor, he turned in time to
see another female ninja of a different color standing before him - poised in a martial arts stance.

"what in the hel..."

The woman reached into her gi and withdrew a few shurikens aiming down at her target- when suddenly a black hole of code ripped itself wide in the wall of the warehouse and both parties stared dumb-struck at it - a long black tentacle
ripped forwards and gripped the ninja's leg dragging it towards the hole. She kicked and shoved and clawed trying to keep herself in place but to no avail as her frame was sucked into the blackness and dissapeared. There was a sort of slurping popping noise that emmanated from the wall before it seemed to pour itself from the brick and stone into a man's frame. Darminian looked on in surprise before it all started to make sense - the white haired individual with no eyes stretched out in a strange inhuman manner before licking his fingers lightly.

"Ah - here you are Darminian."

"Bottomless......what a.....pleasure?" He asked more then stated.

The void seemed to float more then walk towards him as he turned his head in another inhuman fashion a dark and playful manner present despite the fact that he'd literally just consumed a code entity whole.

"I understand you're the man to see about kernel acquisition."

"Uh...yeah i know how to get them."

The void offered a hand to him while he was on the floor, the look of bewilderment of Darminian's face said volumes about the awkwardness of the situation, a moment passed before he accepted it, half expecting to come to the same fate as the ninja he'd just encountered.

"Do you think you could help me acquire one?"

"I...uh... tell you what - " He finally manged the cogs finally working again.

"You help me take care of this little ninja problem, and i'll help you deal with those oligarch code puppets."

Darminian spit out noting that in a cloud of smoke another ninja had arrived. The void turned with a sigh, before kicking the ninja into a pile of boxes just beyond the two of them.

"Very well human."

"Easy now bottomless - they seem to be getting stronger."

The two turned to watch as the same ninja emerged from the box with twice as many shurikens in it's hands.

======

The stuff you really care about!
======

Tommorow we will be farming a ninja box or two in Sati's construct before moving the entire group to the oligarch hide out to help anyone who wants a kernel get one - it's going to be sloppy and chaotic, but the goal is to get enough people on board to overpower the stupidity.

We'll meet up in the warehouse in sati's to start off with kuniochi box then move on to the construct where in which the team or hopefully teams will be recalled and an order of loot we'll be sorted out, i'll be staying until everyone has one or my eyes fall out of my head.

Yes endlessvoid will be making a cameo, no he won't be signing autographs.

======

GreyMountain looked at the others in disgust and chuckled. "Do you honestly think you're going to get into a club wearing THAT garishly pink outfit?" Grey shook his head and strode ahead of the rest down the puddle strewn street.

"Dude. These Gi's will get you in anywhere. And I swear, once you've worn it you'll never go out without it." Odj replied.

"Yeah. Just because you can't be arsed to get one, don't knock you a**." Darminian responded sharply.

On the horizon a large neon sign beamed out a fluorescent light. In large blue letters the words 'Club Janus' beamed down the block. Granted the J was flashing off and on, and the neighbourhood wasn't exactly in the best shape it had been in. But this club was the place to be. "I don't intend to be wearing such a god awful outfit when I try and hit on the supreme women we'll be seeing tonight." Said Grey, gradually distancing himself from the crowd.

"I bet you I'll get more action than you do tonight." Chortled Windfaller, raising Grey the finger.

"Ha. Yeah, while you may think that suit number looks good, it won't get anywhere tonight. These Gi's will be the life of the party. I might let you take some of the dropouts thought." Odj said, bursting out in hysterics.

"And what's with that silly beret Grey? You look...I dunno...you just look stupid." Retorted Darminian.

"Hey, don't knock the beret. Just cos you can't pull it off with that ridiculous metal head mask." GreyMountain said, feeling quite hurt. "I'll have you know this is a very fashionable piece right now."

"Yeah, fashionable for idiots" Laughed ExternalError.

"Shut-up baldy" barked everyone in unison.

The club approached. The hum of a nearby searchlight pierced the otherwise silent night. The further the group of Neonates got to the club, the more the bass from the club could be felt. A couple of women walked past the crowd, slightly tipsy. GreyMountain gave them a wink. The two women stopped, gave a disapproving look and turned to the 4 in pink. They giggled and started chatting to the guys.

"God-dammit." GreyMountain dropped his head despondently and marched to the club.

The queue for the club was huge. The red rope stretched for seemingly miles. Behind it stood hundreds of women in the skimpiest, tightest clothes imaginable. Interspersed were smartly dressed men laughing and chatting up the women. At the doors to the club stood 5 burly bouncers. Each more menacing than the last. Undoubtedly strong programs designed to keep all trouble out.

GreyMountain and other 4 took up their spot in the queue. A few ladies turned round and ogled at the pink outfits. The owners of the clothing just tipped their hats and smiled. "Starting to doubt the outfits now then Grey?" Smiled Ex.

GreyMountain snorted, "Just wait till I start to show my stuff off on the dance floor. Then you'll be sorry.

The 5 Neonates approached the doors. Odj nodded to the bouncers. "Evening gentlemen." Said one of the bouncers, as he unclipped the rope and motioned for the group to enter. One by one the group entered, until GreyMountain approached. A large hand was raised and pressed against GreyMountain's chest. Despite trying he couldn't move past. "Sorry sir. But the dress-code is smart and fashionable."

"Yeah. So let me in" Said GreyMountain, brushing down his shirt. "This is smart and fashionable, or have you suddenly become blind?"

"Sir, I advise you to stay calm. You're 'costume' is not acceptable for the club. We prefer people to take pride in their appearance." Replied the bouncer slightly sarcastically. A couple of women with long flowing blonde hair walked past. Their high heels clattering against the pavement.

"Costume! You call this a costume." Said GreyMountain angrily. "Why you..." GreyMountain punched the bouncer square in the jaw. The queue behind him gasped in astonishment. The bouncers face jarred to the right.

GreyMountain smiled with a sense of achievement. The bouncer shook his head and turned back to Grey. GreyMountain's smile disappeared. "Perhaps you can take a leaf out of your friend's book. Now they have the right idea." GreyMountain turned to Odj, Darminian, Windfaller and ExternalError. They all laughed and pointed at Grey.

The bouncer picked GreyMountain up by the scruff of his neck. With a flick of his arm, GreyMountain was sent hurling toward the curb. With a large thump he landed in the gutter. His four friends peered from round the door and laughed. "Have a good night. Don't pick up too many women Grey." Said Windfaller, managing to hold back the laughter and tears.

GreyMountain picked himself up from the ground. Taking off his now soaking wet jacket he mumbled to himself. "B*stards and their fancy Gi. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Crap, crap, crap." He brushed the mud of his knees before slowly walking back from where he had just been.

The club and its patrons carried on regardless. The 4 remaining Neonates went to the bar and ordered their beers. "To GreyMountain!" They all laughed, clinking their bottles together before downing the beer.

Darminian wiped his mouth and put his bottle back onto the bar. "Ahhh. Now then, I think it's time to start talking to the ladies. Excuse me boys." The other 3 raised their bottles and cheered.

Back on street level. In the cold crisp air a loud cry came from the horizon. "DAMMIT! Now I'm going to have to get a Gi."

He swirled the vodka in his glass, it was half empty, it was always half empty. He looked down at the street below him, 5 minutes from now he'd be meating another one of the faceless rats that clung to the underworld of this city. Another one of the rodents trying to chew them selves a nice slice, regardless of what they had to sink ther teeth into to do it. This one had bitten off more then he could chew, and now he was a big shot. Another one of these kids with an ego bigger then the gun he had behind it. Darminian was getting tired of catering to people's ego's to get what he wanted. Tired of all the mental manipulation required to just figure out who people were these days. She leaned on the railing of the balcony next to him.

What do you think sir?

I think you should stop calling me sir.

What do you think boss?

He chuckled and rolled his eyes as he downed the rest of his drink.

I think i miss the days of old, where all you needed to do was be on the right side of the gun to get the answers you needed.

I don't like the idea of you going in alone.

If i walk in with backup he's gonna bail or think i'm trying to flaunt you and call in his goons, it's better if i just go in alone.

I still don't like it.

Not something we can control, just business as usual.

He walked back into the room from the balcony and placed the glass down on the table. He grabbed his coat off the hotel room bed, and looked back out towards the balcony, he couldn't see her face but he could tell she was sulking. He withdrew the bedlams one at a time, checking the mags and cocking them. He slid them back into their holsters and pulled the coat tight around his shoulders. Moving towards the balcony again he stopped only momentarily to look back at her. He flashed the usual sly smile and leapt from the balcony, the air rushed passed him as he fell - the trench coat whipping about wildly behind him - his hair rustling slightly before it all stopped with the deafing thud. A small restaurant stood in between two larger buildings, it didn't seem like much from outside, a small building like the ones all over richland. He walked through the front door and looked around.

Inside was more cramped then he'd expected - there was booths hugging the wall, a table near the middle and a counter where the cashier was standing. He approached the counter slowly, avoiding eye contact with the blues, since the fiasco at camon the reds once again had the ability to suck all the air out of a room full of them. Of course these people didn't even know what they were standing on. He looked at the cashier and hesitated before speaking, there was something about him - more than a blue pill, but not a red, didn't seem to be an exile either - a bit baffling.

I'd like to place an order.

What can i get you?

Foie gras.

The man behind the counter narroews his eyes at Darminian, slowly he spoke.

13th floor, the elevator is through there.

The man pointed to a door between two booths hugging the wall. Darminian nodded and headed through it, watching the cashier grab the phone out of the corner of his eye. He pressed the button on the elevator and waited for the doors to open, he heard the familiar ding and stepped inside. He looked down at the panel and stopped for a moment, floors 1-12 all had functional buttons, there was no button for the 13th, only three blank circles at the top of the panel. He chuckled as he pushed the blank circle on the left and watched it light up, the box sprung to life as it began to descend the shaft. As he got lower and lower , it felt like it went a lot lower then 13 floors. As it descended lower and lower he could hear the sound of muffled music, it got louder and louder until it was right outside the doors, like an eruption the moment the doors opened it flooded in. That usual mixture of techno metal filled the whole area as the moving mass of people danced and lost themselves in what one can only describe as a narcotic dream.

It was more than just music and dance to them, and to Darminian it was just another obstacle to navigate. Beyond the dancefloor that seemed to go on for hours, he could see booth areas to his left and right, and in the back beyond two run of the mill elite guards and a velvet rope he could see the entrance way into the so-called VIP area.

Arkab, the exiles name was arkab, some up and comming merv hotshot, this city was running out of places to help the up and comming morons in the merovingian organisation. This club had to be run underground lest one of the bigger players on his side of the fence find out what he was doing, and shut him down permanently. At this point he'd accumulated enough wealth that he could afford lackies, that was a step up from the usual side of things, but good help was, is and always will be hard to find. He slithered and weaved his way through the mass of people and towards the two guards.

I'm here to speak to speak with Arkab.

So what?

His friend chuckled. The two of them had about a foot on Darminian, the seemed to puff of their chests and try to really flaunt the heighth and width advantage. They probably wouldn't have had they known that the only impression it left on Darminian was that they'd be easier to shoot if necessary.

I think he'll want to see what i have to offer.

I don't think he want's to deal with your kind, and more so i don't think you should be down here.

His friend piped up.

Yeah and i don't think -

Look, i know both of you don't think at all. That's not what your boss pays you two morons to do. And if he finds out that you kept me from seeing him, he's not going to be paying you any longer. And quite frankly if you keep talking down to me, you're not going to be doing anything much longer.

His tone was that ice cold calm, matched only by the color of his eyes which now peered over the top of his code drenched shades. The smugness from the two guards vanished as one cleared his throat and moved the velvet rope.

Cheers gentlemen.

He walked into the VIP area and looked around, there were leather couches and chairs all over the place, a large desk with a few chairs around it and some kind of oversized matress covered in cheap fur and pillows.On top of it laying back with a drink in his hand was Arkab - surrounded by a attractive gals. No guards were in the room, one of the biggest mistakes Arkab could make. Darminian grabbed a nearby chair from the desk and put it down just short of the bed, sitting down he interloced his fingers and stared at the exile over his glasses.

So you're the infamous Arkab, quite the setup you got here - but i'll skip the pleasantries as i'm sure you want to get back to 'business'.

Well, you have my attention.

The girls all seemed to giggle and murmur, that's when he noticed the one that didn't quite seem to fit in, the black sheep of his harem as it were.

I know you deal in all sorts of underground circles and the like, and i mean the real underground, the only other person i've talked to is the jewler, and he dropped your name. I'm looking for something that isn't easily found by just anyone.

It was a long shot, but this would get the word out, if anything.

I see...

He replied stroking his goatee, one of those curios types, Darminian had figured he would be.

And i know a man of your talents and skill...

He had almost not been able to get the words out as he'd been dreaming of the good ol' days not so long ago.

Might know about it or have dealt with it.

There was no way in hell he knew what it was, but it wasn't like he had the right people to ask, he was hoping the word would get out to the right circles, things had a way of rippling through the code like that.

What is it that you are looking for Darminian?

He was caught off guard that he knew his name, perhaps this one wasn't such an amateur - or perhaps Darminian had been spending too much time in the light these days, either way he didn't let it show that it surprised him.

I'm looking for 'the tower'.

The tower you say?

It's some kind of construct, some sort of hidden place within the matrix.

Ah yes, yes the construct, i've heard of it.

He was lying through his teeth, which Darminian was thinking about knocking out of his head, but he kept his cool.

You know how i can get there?

Perhaps, give you what you want to know - for a price.

That's how we do business isn't it.

He had to play it up like this to get the word out, shame really, he would have just preferred to kill him, siphon the funds from his operation and call it a day, but some things required a more delicate touch.

Darminian reached into his coat and pulled out the envelope, inside it was tightly packed with information disks, about 50 gigs or so.

You get me all the information you can on the Tower, and there will be a lot more than that for you.

He pushed the girls off of him and away from the bed as he fumbled with the envelope, looking inside and running his fingers across the edges of the disks he smiled. He dumped them out in front of him and his eyes lit up with a sick kind of joy.

I'll see what i can do for you.

He beamed as if eager for more possible work. The girls had spread out across the room, at all sides he could see them out of the corners of his eyes - save for the blacksheep.

Good.

Darminian was about to get up from the chair when he heard the whisper of a shot from behind him, the shot had gone just over his shoulder and painted the wall with brain and skull fragments from Arkab's head.

As Arkab's lifeless body seemed to hang their limply, Darminian pushed off the matress with his foot and fell backwards sitting in the chair. The second shot whizzed through the air flying just above his head by an inch or two. As the back of the chair collided with the floor, two bedlams had reared their heads from inside his coat and he now stared at the black sheep with guns on her, and her silenced pistol on him.

It's always the pretty ones that are trouble....

((More to come, but feel free to post about what your charachter is up to, if you like.))

~Darminian

The room was covered in blood, empty casings, and bone fragments. The furniture was destroyed, windows shattered and walls ridden with bullet holes. He sat inbetween what used to be a desk and a the body of someone who currently resembled melted swiss chese. In front of him were some smoking weapons coated in blood. His head inclined towards the ground, his hands resting on his knees, gripped tightly in the black leather fingers are the two silenced fm-900's.

There's a splintered pile of wood that used to be a door in the center of the room, and three other dead bodies in the room, one's half sticking out of the door, the remains of the door behind him painted with his insides, the other two sprawled out on the floor in pools of their own blood. On the floor he breathes heavily, he sucks in a large breath of air, as he slides up the wall his back never leaving it till he's on his feet. He spins around on his heels and walks backwards along the broken door, as he gets to the edge of the door a shotgun from the floor sucks in the smoke from it's barrel and flies towards the body in the door. The paint on the wall of blood and bone fragments peel off the wall and funnel into a solid object as the skin wraps itself around the now visible exiles head. The bullets exit his face closing the wounds as they fly towards the magnums and the casings jump up from the floor and into the chambers. The body of the exile spits out the bullet and sucks the blood from the wall behind it in like a sponge. The door behind splinters back into a solid piece.

Darminian whips wildly to his left and as a large cabinent behind him comes back together, the doors going back on the hinges and the several holes around the large one in the center fill themselves with the full non damaged wood of the same color. As several shotfun pellets fly across the room floating by darminian by barely an inch, the blast sucks itself into the gun and the exile seems to *CENSORED* the weapon as it falls to his side. Darminian weaves again and steps back across the door, moving backwards. The pools of blood around the other dead bodies are sucked into them, weapons slide across the floor and into their hands as they seem to slump back up in some sort of twisted resurected movement. Casings jump from the floor back into Darminian's pistols aswell as the two near him, one on his left in a chair next to a table, one on his right sitting in the couch.

The bulletholes in the walls seems to spit out the bullets and close their mouths behind them as a hail of criss-crossing lead flies by Darminians RSI. The shots start off sporatic and terrible and get more accurate as bullets fly from their bodies into Darminian's guns. Their faces turn from expressionless, to pained to angered as their guns refill fully and darminian moves back across the door and out into the hall. The two exiles in the chairs place their weapons down near them. The splintered door flies up from the floor in a cloud of dust, and for a moment light shines through the unbelieveable amount of holes within it. The swiss chesed fellow slides up the wall and stumbles forward, closing the bulletholes in the wall behind him and sucking up his own blood, as he seems to flail his libs forward spitting bullets out of his torso and face back through the holes in the front door, into the twin clamors Darminian has in front of the door.

His hands move awkwardly and fast as he collects the bullets for his smg's through the door, and lets his left hand drop to the side. With his right he seems to take back knocks made upon the door, the smg's fall to his sides and he stands perfectly still in front of the door.

"noops on si ereht."

He sucks in a deep breath slowly and exhales sharply.

~Darminian

((More self indulgent, irrelevant NR RP, enjoy if you can bring yourself to read it.))

It was a newly mangled pile of steel and ash, the remnants of what had been the old cradle of civilization. The smoke wafting upwards filled the enclosed broken city with a darker tone, and the buzzing of the tentacled beasts in the sky was bone chilling. The sea of debris laid parted and washed out, acres and acres of littered wastes - and there as if insects to a corpse, the sentinels writhed and squirmed, picking and sifting through the wastes, as if in search of something. Perhaps survivors, perhaps .... Something more.

Peering down across the wreckage he marveled at the sight, the chaos draining him of his ability to speak, months ago this had been home. He let out a sigh, noting a bland sort of truth, outside of their well known capacity to create, the machines capacity to destroy was just as evident. Their semblance to humanity painful in regards to the wreckage below, a difference in way of cold efficiency and disillusioned perfection. Then again - emotion blinds us all in different regards.

The ragged clothes clinging to his frame, resembled a sort of rotted away poncho, his head wrapped as well in the black clothes, exposing only his eyes. A gentle hand landed upon his shoulder and a warm voice despite the cold brought him to his senses.

‘Darminian we need to keep moving, were right out in the open, and with the patrols as is, I doubt we'll be able to get too far in.'

He looked back at her and nodded, moving his gaze from her to Staje positioned nearby inspecting a piece of building that had collapsed, the glowing weapon humming slightly in his hands. The clothing they all adorned like a shabby homage to the new latex outfits everyone had become so fond of. His gaze shifted to Jahleel and Hawnt - beckoning the two over he gave them orders to secure the access point and watch for their return.

‘If were being swarmed shut her down, we can't afford to have anything breach, the field would probably still get them, but better safe then sorry.'

‘On it sir.' Hawnt replied as he and Jahleel tore off back towards the broken pipe they'd drug themselves through for what seemed like hours to get here.

Darminian watched them move off awkwardly, one holding the shells, the other holding the launcher. He turned his gaze back to the two still with him. Beckoning them, the three moved deeper into the wreckage dead silence amidst the sounds of fire, and the hovering of drones.

Homes, bridges, security stations - everything was completely mangled, they took up a position just south a few clicks of what used to be a main bridge in Zion, now broken and turned into a sort of ramp to nowhere.

‘What is it were looking for anyway captain?'

‘Depends on what's out here really, right now my curiosity has got the best of me, and I figured you guys could use a little field work. As for what we can find, I want know why the sentinels are still sticking around - if they are going to just keep patrols running here or establish something.' He looked between the two of them, the moment turning from briefing to discussion as Liv changed her view from Staje to Darminian.

‘What about Lock? - I mean if he's here are we going to help him or?' She asked.

Staje spoke up - ‘I say we help him by giving him a lesson about treating EPN with respect. But that's just my vote.'

‘Well I doubt we'll find him - if the machines haven't killed him, he's off in some hidey hole much better then this. He's too slippery to have just been taken out of the picture, and the ego boost he gets from being the ‘commander' isn't something he is just going to want to pass off like this.'

‘Agreed.' Staje spoke out, as Liv nodded. ‘Now in regards to anything specific were looking for - survivors, supplies and purpose.'

‘Purpose?' Liv said aloud - ‘You mean why they destroyed this place?'

‘Probably to send us a message about their power, and what they think is ‘inevitable' Staje scoffed as he replied.

‘Well whatever it is, I want to see if it's so simple or if there is more to it - you two and I know that things happen around here for more then just the reasons on the surface. Now let's scope out some more of this sector and head back, being this far away isn't safe.'

Three shadows skulked along the tortured landscape, strange intervals and awkward movements, lead them through the seemingly twisted labyrinth towards a collection of buildings smoking but still partially intact, a metal door ajar enough for them to slip inside. Inside the rooms were a mess, the contents of the rooms flipped upside down - easy to see they left in a hurry. Darminian motioned to the door they had come through and Staje moved towards it, weapon in hand he kept a lookout.

Liv and Darminian crept forward through the darkened home, trinkets and strange things were scattered across the floor, and a doll on the floor - ragged and rotted seemed to paint a picture in the back of his mind as his eyes moved to a door closer to the back of the room. The two moved towards it quietly, each step agonizingly slow as the humming and crackling of fire outside the buildings set a terrible sort of white noise. He nodded and her fingers gripped the edge of the sliding door and she pulled it open slightly.

The busted broken emergency lights sparked and flickered randomly, at first but yielded enough light to the room, amidst stacked and built up furniture, beyond that was what appeared to be a trembling mass of flesh. He inched closer, the weapon not shaking in his hands, not moving. The light flashed again and he could see them - a woman and two children, a boy and a girl.

He scanned the room frantically - it was just them, there'd been a flash of relief but it had passed immediately.

‘Why the hell are you still here?'

‘We..... Missed our transport to new Zion..... We were waiting for the next one when the machines attacked, my husband told us to stay here and he'd go and get help and...... and .' The woman sobbed as the children huddled to her tried to comfort her.

‘Well we've got to get you guys out of here.' Darminian beckoned Liv into the room and her expression was the same as his. Almost blanked completely out of the surprise - ‘We need to get these three out of here, and I don't know how well stealth is going to work.'

‘What are you thinking then?' She asked looking up at him.

‘Distraction, extraction.' He replied calmly.

‘You don't mean.....'

‘Get these kids back to the tube, I'm going to stir up the squids - that should be enough trouble to get you guys back.'

‘Darminian - you can't it's too risky you' - She stopped when she saw the look in his eyes, she didn't need to be told that he was giving orders not making suggestions to know he couldn't be persuaded.

‘Go.'

She nodded beckoning the mother and children to follow her into the room where Staje was keeping watch over the door. There was a dead silence that hung in the air as they stood at the broken door. Liv and Staje didn't look amused, the woman and children seemed just phased out and Darminian fiddled with the weapon in his hands.

‘I'll buy you guys as much time as I can, but I don't know how much I can give you if I still want to make it back in one piece. Just make sure you guys book it.'

Staje could only nod and tighten his grip on his own weapon.

Liv on the other hand looked worried, she stepped towards him, up close - very close. ‘You better make it, or I'll kill you.' She said without even the trace of a smile.

Darminian nodded, as he moved towards the door.

‘Good luck captain.' Staje spit out as Darminian began to clamber across the broken part of the door. Darminian cracked a slight smile and through himself over it, and into the wreckage illuminated by fire yet again.

((more to come....maybe.))

~Darminian

10 names.

10 names and quite a little bargaining chip.

Always work to be done.

=====================================================================

She moved teasingly slow, a true vixen at that, the tight one piece dress she wore slid listless to the floor as she stepped out of it, fully exposing the curves of her body as she leaned over the desk, arching herself to show them off.

He chuckled lightly, watching her every move.

She toyed with the radio, some kind of slow jam, he couldn't really hear it as he watched her drop her *CENSORED* to the floor and bring it up slowly.

Slow it down baby, slow it down.

She turned and drew a hand up along her thigh and up along her back, her lip held between teeth as she smiled staring back.

He grinned too, watching her turn around slowly.

She slowly waltzed, a sexy strut forwards along the floor, letting her hips swing side to side, her hands crawling up from her waist up her front, along her neck and flipping her hair.

That's good right there.

Her hands moved behind her back slowly reaching for the clasp.

That's the money shot.

Darminian said aloud as he squeezed the trigger, the bullet tearing from the barrel of the rifle and spiraling toward its target, the fingers just reaching the clasp as the bullet tears through the window, cracks forming from its entry. The curvy vixen now able to show off her brains too - or at least how well they serve as wall paint.

A man leapt from the couch in the room and ran to girl on the floor. He paused for a moment - his vision leaving the body and looking up to the window. The second shot rang out and left his body lifeless as it fell to the floor, next to the girl.

Darminian packed up the rifle and headed down the fire escape, the metal clanking the only sound that he could hear, his feet echoed as they met the ground, he pulled out his phone and dialed the operator as he continued down the alleyway.

===================

Eight to go.

Oh I can't wait, can't to have a new playground to run around and do nothing in, broken promises and useless efforts. I've been nullified and it's not for a lack of trying, I sit here stabbing the keyboard with angry fingers trying to make sense of this growing seething rage and all that becomes clear is my desire to hurt, to maim to break.

You don't need to see it my way, I'm not closed minded, but open your damned eyes, you wretches, you leeches, you vermin, I'm sick of the people that detract and take away that vomit on the very thing I cherish, I wish to water this wilting flower with your blood, in my mind the words of so many fall uselessly to the floor amidst lack of effort and oversight of the gifts and power they've been given.

Perhaps you don't care, but there are armies that do - people under the radar who would sleigh for your positions, sleigh for your power, and you insipid greedy children who suckle from the beast until they are fat and useless and leave us with a twisted smile on your lips, oh how I wish suffering upon you - to have so carelessly spit in the faces of those who depend on you - who look up to you. Those of you who seek no power, no change but solace in the face of corruption complacency and uselessness, there are so few of you whom I respect, and the higher the chain goes, the less my respect comes, how I loathe this. How I loathe my love of this empty place - hours spent walking, wandering and worst of all hoping. Having hope that it will change.

Hope is the quintessential first step towards FAILURE - and that's something so many of you know about. Your open doors have lead to your down fall, your stupidity breeds more of it, and your lack of desire to change things, to disrupt things, to cause waves makes you pawns, makes you useless, expendable. Should you not rise to your job, you should not rise at all, but no this is far from your faults, consumers all the same, ones who looked for help then sought to be helpful - now fallen silent and grey.

The fault rests with the highers who preach that it's not their fault, and that we should change things, that we should put fourth the effort to change things, to do that which we can to aid them, something so many try and yet watch them - like snakes diffusing your arguments, sliding away from points they themselves don't change don't try don't answer, just slip out and away. How much fire burns my tongue as I rage, how easily I could spit flame in regards to the venom on their lips - at the tips of their fingers.

There won't be justice here, there won't be, and each and all of us have their breaking point, only so many shoves can be tolerated before one eventually realizes he'd rather go out as an excessive negative thinker then be surrounded by mindless masses with open mouths ready to fellate those whom seek to give us less and less - those that bray and beg and whine like the lap dogs they wish to be for any sign of favor- and better still to see them not get it - there is some satisfaction that comes from the uselessness above.

How unrequited my love is, yet how shared it is by so many, we are worshipers of a god that walks on us without knowing. No knowledge of it's power, it's worth it's abilities and it's responsibilities - and for this it's worth is nil, it pains me - makes me sick, the venom from them fills my fists and I seek to smash them, the slight sarcasms bottle the sheer rage that inevitably explodes forth ready to expose every flaw to attack every weakness, only to see the end lies in this monolithic entity that corrupts our homes, that ruins what we have and we stand and watch as were forced away, silenced, corrupted, reduced or watch our power fade our voices fall to deaf ears. Too long have we remained silent, and yet this changes nothing, this is an outlet for a fire that could burn for years, and has been burning for years.

How I regret this place, how easy it is to say that in spite of so much else, how tired I am of those that don't deserve it, don't recognize what they are doing and how impure how irrelevant they are. So many wonderful and amazing things in this place, none of which come from those above who taint it.

And she, a being of my affections, she has the ability to tell me I'm not better, how I care for her opinion but how wrong she is. We may pay to be here but some of us pay more then the fee on paper, and not all people are created equal, not all of us are deserving of the same treatment, and you all recognize it. Look to your strengths, compare them to those who have those weaknesses and ask yourselves if you deserve the same things in that department - has your mastery your skill - your work not entitled you to more?

Combat prowess or writing skill, masteries of your own craft - the ego's are all their, but egotism and self-knowledge are completely different. It's human nature, even machine those which can do more receive more. Those more apt, are more tested, those that are superior get treated better. It works that way in life, regardless of how we like to kid ourselves it doesn't.

So understand that this road some of us walk, and many have walked before leads to an end which many have already found, but it's been a long time coming, and there is always more on the horizon.

I've vented this way long enough for now. I pity this keyboard at the receiving end of my blows.

~Darminian

I'm looking to move some funds from recursion to syntax, if you'd like to do the inverse please PM me.

~Darminian

He stands at a threshold, the endless white on either side of him, the door in front of him the same as all the others, and yet not what rests beyond it. Like a meticulous scan he goes over himself, the weapons clinging to his coat, the bits and blades tucked away in differing spots. He twists his neck to release the cracking noise as he reaches up to adjust his collar and straighten his tie. A hand slips into a pocket of the black pin striped pants and withdraws the strange data-tap like device. The small monitor blinks and stutters as strange icons seem to revolve and fall into puzzle like places drawn for them, a minute passes before they all come into place and he manages a slight smirk.

Pocketing it, he inhales calmly before extending a hand towards the handle and turning it slowly. The door doesn't so much open as it seems to fall away and he finds himself at first drowning in bright light before he feels the floor rip out from beneath him quickly and another replace it. He pivots on the spot looking around, his eyes bound around the room wildly before coming to rest on the man before him. The room is large; its white marble similar to the halls he'd been in pillars jut from the floor to the ceiling, suits of armor cling to the walls to his sides. Behind him two grand doors stand clung together. The center of the room holds a large and grand scale fountain, no statues, but the marble and intricate designs on it depict angels and devils in combat.

The man next to the fountain grins at Darminian as he flips a coin into the water. He's dressed in a dark black bed robe, it's trim has fuzz edges, the interior is similar to silk, he grins at the stranger flipping another coin out of the elongated black nails extending from his hands, his skin is pale, almost reptilian, his hair is jet black with streaks of white randomly throughout, it's slicked back and the greasiness of it complements the thin goatee that clings to his chin below thin and pale lips. His face is thin and bony, his eyes a sickening yellow, the pupils black with the faintest dab of white in the center. He lets the rest of the coins slip from his bony fingers and pyramids his hands regarding the being before him. The thin lips part and yield a grinning set of fangs as he tilts his head curiously.

Have you come to play?

Darminian arched a brow as he strafed to the side slowly, his eyes not leaving the one in front of him.

Have you?

You could say that.

His pants matched the house coat in their leisurely dressed down style, and what really through the image were the slippers on his feet.

Excellent, I love games, don't you?

The gloved fingers toyed with the hilt of a pistol on his side, as his left hand clenched itself into a fist, his knuckles popping lightly. He stopped moving just short of one of the suits of armor and gripped the butt of the gun tightly, watching the man in the house coat.

Depends on the game I suppose.

Mm, well we'll find out as we go.

The smile as if not disturbing enough, took on a more sinister turn as the pyramid hands interlaced and he cracked his knuckles and turned to head toward a flight of stairs leading to a smaller set of twin doors.

You know why I'm here I trust.

I do indeed, you aren't the fist, you won't be the last.

The man replied as he continued up the stairs. The click of the hammer being drawn back on Darwinians gun stopped him in him on the stairs but he didn't turn.

We going to do this the easy way?

All in good time, all in good time - you've yet to pass the first part of the game.

As Darminian took aim at his leg something heavy gripped his wrist - a suit of armor had clenched his wrist, and held a mace above his head. The fingers of his left hand hugged the hilt of his first pistols brother, the shot barely left the barely when it collided with the suits weapon knocking the arm back and freeing Darminian from his grasp. He turned towards the stairs trying to take aim only to throw his torso back and right dodging a broad sword by inches. His right hand crossed over his chest to let loose hell on the suit with the blade, his left did the same in the direction of the one with the mace who had moved forward.

He watched the suits spark and vibrate with every shot as he emptied the roaring brethren into the armor. The guns fell silent and a second passed before he threw himself forward, spinning in mid air, the coat flew out wildly around him as his body hit the ground the momentum allowing him to slide along the floor - the brothers screaming out with what they had left at a third suit of armor that had moved behind him. The third suit staggered backwards and collapsed as the slides of his weapons moved backwards and stayed there. He looked up in time to see the fourth suit craning over him with a two handed axe. It collided with the ground where his head had been as he rolled across the floor in front of him and got to his feet, the mace in hand.

As the suit raised its axe again the mace flew through the air and collided with the helmet sending both the weapon and part of the suit flying. He collected the pistols from the floor and slapped in two new clips, placing them back in his coat. He walked up the steps towards the doors.

They never choose the easy way.

Another dark night in the city, the grey sky strewn across it like a transparent shroud, the wind was calm but loud echoing through it but stirring nothing from it's place. The shrill cry of the siren filled the alleyways around it as two men lifted a stretcher into the back of the van and secured it in place. One of them climbed into the back and closed the doors, the other moved back around to the front. The red and blue lights danced along the brick walls as the vehicle pulled out of the alleyway. As the light moving lights crept along the walls for a moment a level of fire-escape was illuminated in the red light and a figure in black stood with his hands on the railing, a white stick with a crimson tip stuck in his lips.

The ambulance's cries fill the city streets as it tears it's way toward the general hospital. Back on the fire escape a ground up cigarette butt rests on the rail. The driver's eyes are glued to the road as he inclines his head and shouts to his partner.

"How's he doing?"

"Not good, he's lost a lot of blood, I've barely got a pulse."

"*poop*."

"Yeah, I'm watching the clock."

The driver lets out a sort of grunt and shifts his hands on the wheel, the sweat's built up on it, last run of the evening and he was hoping it wouldn't end on a sour note. Can't win them all he thinks to himself. He closes his eyes for what seems a second and opens in time to swerve to avoid a near head on collision with a car that hadn't moved far enough to the side.

In the back of the ambulance his partner leans over the man on the stretcher, speaking in a hushed tone.

"Don't worry, I'm getting you a second chance." His attention seems to drift as he places a hand on the man's shoulder.

"We all deserve a second chance in this place." He reaches down to a small pouch beneath the bench he sits on, unzipping it, his hands slowly remove the cap on hypodermic needle with a strange sort of silver liquid within it.

===

The ambulance screeches to a halt, and the wail of the siren falls to a whispered echo, the driver bolts out of the front seat and rips open the Back doors for his gaze to be met by a look of disappointment from his partner.

"*poop*."

"I'm calling it. Time of death 3:15." He sighs as he picks himself up off the bench and helps the driver lift the stretcher out of the ambulance and begin to cover its load with the bag. After the bodies been dropped off the two of them are sitting on the cement edge of the floral arrangement outside of the hospital. One of their hands still stained with dry blood as he lights a smoke. The driver pats him on the back and gets to his feet - he shrugs and begins to walk away, he tosses a sideways glance and the words "Just another day in mega city Al." To his partner and continues to walk on.

Al lets out a sigh and stares down at his blood stained hands, shaking his head he gets to his feet and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes falling on the swoop sneakers worn beneath the misene pinstriped pants. Sneakers and dress pants, he should figure it out but doesn't. His eyes move up across the suit enclosed by a leather trench and finally rest on the bizarre green armless shades that tightly hug the nose of the man before him. The spiked hair helps him put it together.

"Crap." He says as the cigarette falls from his lips.

"Got a light Al?" Darminian asks him.

The heavy black coat clung like a cape to the chair he sat in, the aroma of tea filled the air as he sat alone in the tea house in Sai Kung. The code drenched shades lay on the table next to his cup as he leaned back in his chair staring up at the ceiling. Beyond the roof of the building the sky, was a dull grey as the clouds seemed to merge above like a pale canopy. Drops of rain made the clouds swell before they escaped on mass assualting the world below.

As he allowed himself to take in the gentle aroma he stopped, a subtle yet unforgettable aroma had entered the air, his mind tried to place it but didn't need to as the sliding rice paper doors opened. The race to process was a tie between the brightly colored dress and the curvacious hips of the pale skinned vixen. The succubai's crimson hair and tight clothes were almost distracting enough to overlook the weapony she carried. However it was not her scent that he'd picked up, but rather that of the one she was escorting. Clad in black, with a funeral veil, the woman gracefully waltzed across the threshold and towards his table. Another deadly piece of eye candy entered the room from the door behind him - again a tie between weapons and 'ballistics' in the race for awareness.

The woman in the veil lighly pulled the chair out across from him and gently sat down, though difficult to see, her eyes were upon him - staring into his own. Like the guards she had with her, there was a duality to everything about her- her eyes especially. Soft and chocolate brown, how easy it was to confuse that warm color, to allow it to convey that comforting, alluring softness - that well devised perfect illusion to hide how truly sharp and piercing they could be. An irony in light of his own eyes exposed completely, the abnormal blue of them no longer captured behind the shades he always wore. The moment he truly felt the sharpness from her eyes meeting him he reached for those shades, his fingers were inches from them when she broke the silence.

"Don't." Her tone managed to convey the order as more of a request, more of plea a need a desire, when in truth it was all part of a game, that's all she had now perhaps, compared to what she once did, these games that keep her from allowing the wind to sweep her away - his mind raced with every thought and every concept as his hand recoiled slowly. His composure remained steady, body language unphased but his face yielded the annoyance- his eyes yielded the annoyance. Walls can breed complacency, when one is knocked down, a person may not be able to handle what lay behind it. So much off a single word - an eternity in this thought process, this game of chess masked in a simple tea party.

"This one going to cause any trouble mistress?" The succubai standing behind him had made the inquiry, a closer inspection of the trench hugging his chair had opened her eyes to just how many weapons were strapped to its interior.

The veiled head cocked slightly, her eyes still meeting his, as she smiled softly, the tiniest shape gripping those lips, perfect and soft lips that had met so many so maliciously. A smile from so many others would mean nothing more than such, but from her - it was enough to make him want to pistol whip her, to see that mouth without a smile, break through the mask.

"Are you going to be any trouble Darminian?" The softness of her french accent clinging to her words like wings, letting them float so softly making them light and relaxing, easing down his guard, trying to soften him. He reached down gently and picked up the cup, lifting it to his lips he paused a moment- without any subtlety he looked her over head to toe. The dark veil that covered her face beneath the dark hat was a new twist - his eyes moved lower noting the same cut of her dress the wide straps on her shoulders that lead the eye down to her chest, it was a darker black to go with the Veil and just as dangerous. The side of his mouth barely moved enough to display a subtle smirk above his raised cup as he spoke.

"You never know."

Behind the veil her grin widened as she waved her hand, her escorts nodded and stepped out of the room closing the doors behind them. It was appreciable to have regard for formality despite the fact that the rice paper provided no privacy. He filled another cup in front of his guest and continued to subtly analyze her every action, her every movement, her every breath.

"Are you surprised to see me here?" Again the softness in her words masked the venom flowing through them, the infectious taunts and provocations that screamed but weren't phrased.

"I knew someone from that circle would wind up here sooner or later, though i expected it to be a lot more violent."

"My husband does not know i'm here, i merely wished to speak to you myself."

"About what?" He replied his words taking a sharper edge, though the illusion he crafted was of stone, the coldness and roughness, the stubborn and unmoveable - she could get under his skin - she knew it as did he. So often did he manage to dissociate himself from emotion and yet encompassed within her was the means to analyze and absorb it - to extract and extort, to belittle to control. A dangerous truth he'd come to realize was that unlike so many others in this place, she was one of the few who threatened him, who could unbalance him - and so unlike his usual nature he had no desire to play with the flame, only to stomp it out. Again his thoughts drowned him as an eternity of contemplation passed before she spoke again.

"You..." Her reply was so simple, yet an encompassment of his distaste, beneath the table his fists clenched, so strange this effect she brought with her, how with so many others self control was always easy - but with this one - how the beasts roared within his mind but still he maintained - saved face - kept the mask in place.

"You've been driven to chase after this man, to follow him, to risk your life and so many others to 'save' him? - Yet he is not in a posistion to be saved, not in need of rescue. But still you hunt, still you are driven to chase - what motivates you to do that?" The longest she'd spoken thus far, but it landed with a resounding impact. Clear cut her desire to analyze, to break down the walls and see who was behind the masks. It was clear to him now that this wouldn't be a game of shot for shot, but rather of cat and mouse.

"Boredom." Sarcasm is always a last bastion of hope to erect the walls of stone that keep him, to push back the eyes that pry and the words clasped by wings that attempt to get past him.

"Of the rumors i've heard of you - it is interesting you take on such a strange sentiment."

"Dare i pry?"

"Only amongst the women - i've heard you're a bit of .... un loup?"

The mask slipped to reveal that grin, that sadistic smile that could hug his lips when unmentionable thoughts came to mind. A moment passed before he realized that she noted the grin curiously, it faded as soon as he spotted it.

"Gossip is a dangerous thing." He replied, taking another sip of tea before letting the cup give way to the same subtle smirk he'd been wearing before.

"I see..." She trailed off on purpose, her words relayed a sense of confusion but in his mind it was a coin toss between her taking the hint, or seeing the animal within.

"And of this man you are chasing, you care for him a great deal i think..."

"He's like a brother to me."

"And what about the brother you once had?"

His smirk vanished as his teeth clenched, his brow tightened and he took in air through his nose to calm himself, allowing the aroma of the tea to calm him - but her perfume was like fire in his nostrils- his self-control waning as a fist began to shake beneath the table. He let the air slip from his lips as his teeth released, his hand stopped shaking and opened as he composed himself. The vein she had struck had almost proven to be fatal.

"You're playing a very dangerous game right now, be careful."

"Every game here is dangerous, though few play as well as i, you're quite a player yourself."

That smile sickened him as he shifted in his seat.

"Not by blood." She addressed a thought he'd not spoken of and it sent a chill down his spine.

"What?"

"Code." This time it was her that looked up and down, taking in the scene that was his atire, his posture - his hair, everything and yet her gaze looked so much deeper, into the very strands that represented him within this place.

"That is what formed your past brotherhood, and it is what forms his bond now."

"His bond? - You mean the deal he cut?" She didn't say a word but simply extended her hand across the table, palm up, as the delicate fingers spread. The two waited, both aware of what the other wanted, but both aware of what would happen.

"Don't be afraid."

"I like my secrets the way they are."

"Then i won't share with you mine."

She motioned to get up from the table when he reached across the table and let the tips of his fingers contact her hand, she sat back down and waited as his palm reached her own. Her skin was soft, not as warm as he'd expected, her fingers turned his hand and slowly drifted across his palm.

"You'd enjoy my flesh wouldn't you?" She asked with that same smile, those same looks and thoughts that worked one way but did so much more, dug so much deeper.

"You'd have to ask- mon loup." He replied as he stared down watching her hand atop his. The instant hers crossed his own his head and eyes pounded in agony, everything whirred by as memories ripped through his mind, timelines and events that had occured from his life within zion to life he'd lead before- the different walk of life with the man he considered a brother - flashes of anguish and hatred and pain and sorrow - flooded to the surface as his head began to throb, it wasn't the events that he felt but rather the emotions of those events - siphoned from him - a japanese styled dojo - anguish beyond words and rage a palpable rage that lead to burning crimson - a loathing a hatred - a flash and the table between them seemed to splinter as she stumbled back - he leapt across the ruined table and forced her to the wall a hand at her throat.

The smile had vanished, a look of surprise caught between delight and fear left her face almost blank - the two guards burst into the room and pointed their guns at him. He breathed heavily, his whole body aching, his head feeling as though it'd been ripped in two.

"*CENSORED* you." He forced out as his chest rose and fell rappidly. She was speechless, the guards yelled but didn't fire- not within the proximity of their mistress. Gently she reached up and tugged lightly at the hand around her throat - he let her remove it but not easily. He walked back towards the table and picked up his coat shaking it free of the dust from the table. He pushed his way past the guards and out the rice paper doors. She seemed frozen in place as her gaze was blank, she mouthed words she couldn't speak and moved to the table.

On the street he tightened the collar of his coat as the rain beat down, he began to walk slowly down the street when her voice reached him - she'd called his name - aloud of all things. He turned and she walked towards him slowly - shaken to both of their surprises - she extended a hand towards him, in which the code drenched shades sat.

http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300012365

History as it were.

====

The dreams had returned, it had been about a week since he'd once again found himself drowning, choking on the black tar-like substance that surrounded his entire body. He had found himself in alley-ways and dark corners of the old city chasing whispers and voices that remained body-less. Blurred images and scattered fragments of eventsm dreams and memories seemed like the scattered ashes of a body strewn across his mind. More times then they could count his cries would wake her and even the others on the ship as he tried to fight the goo. They'd even found him wandering the ship in a comatose like state, whispering inaudible things and speaking nonsense.

It was this evening that things changed, he sat within the tea house he always went, and sipped lightly at the green tea. The restaurant was empty and the weather outside was drizzly and grey. He rubbed his eyes and sighed aloud as he leaned back into the chair, his coat draped across the back of it. His mind felt cleaved in two, he couldn't place what had been happening to him, these strange thoughts that seemed to stockpile in his head, but scatter when he tried to collect them. He breathed in deeply to the aroma of the tea in front of him and opened his eyes, he surveyed the room around him and his eyes caught a strange crack in the wall.

He stared at it for a while before he noticed it seemed to almost pulse, considering how often he came to this place, he was surprised by it's pressence, getting to his feet he moved towards the wall and stared into it. It looked familiar, this strange dark pulsing hole in the wall, and he raised a hand to it. Peeling away at it slowly, the wall paper ripped a little and some of the plaster from the wall fell to the ground - and then more - the crack began to grow and the wall started to crumble, the cracks extended outwards from their origin, like twisting roots that crawled across all the walls and the cieling, he could only watch transfixed on the growing lines that began to widen. The veins in the cieling seemed to swell and within a moment burst - spots across the room exploded as the goo poured out of ceiling and the walls - immediately the floor was covered and tried to move towards the door - something gripped his leg.

He stared down to the shallow goo that was slowly rising, it was ankle deep and covering the floor of the room, but to his own horror an arm covered in the black substance emerged and gripped his leg, he shook violently and began to kick at it as he looked around the room and took in some more detail - the roof was completely black, and was oozing down the walls, every surface that had changed to the syrupy tar now writhed and moved on its own as shaking and shivering bodies and limbs moved within the confines of the liquid. More and more arms emerged and sought to hold him down, each and every one of them slowing his movement, his panicked and desperately searched the room, his eyes fell upon the window and he did his best to move towards it. Now knee-deep in the tar his fingers slipped over the cracks and edges of the window trying desperately to budge it or open it, he yelled at it and banged on the window uselessly as the tar ozzed down over the wall covering it, he slammed his fists into the muck over and over and froze as he sensed something behind him.

Turning towards the center of the room, he froze - a torso seemed to sit more elevated then the rest, it's body hunched forward on it's knees, slowly the back arched and a head emerged from the viscous liquid surrounding him and filling the room. He watched as the goo seemed to peel from it's face and the black details of it bearly came into sight. Vague outlines of lips and a nose, no hair was present but the liquid hadn't left the top of it's head. The goo dripped off it's face and outlined a brow- underneath it, the dark liquid stained skin spread and yielded two milky white eyes without pupils, it's mouth opened to an unhuman size and it screeched loudly, so loudly he covered his ears with his hands and grit his teeth. More arms and bodies emerged from the room as the figures reached out and grabbed him, the thick tar staining his white shirt as a wall of bodies seemed to grow out of the muck now up to his waist, more and more of the blank faced screeching things reached out to him and soon he felt him self forced under. Kicking and screaming against a dead mass of thick liquid and bodies pressed against him, on top of him, weighing him down beneath the surface. He tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but eventually he screamed and when his mouth opened the oil flooded in, filling his lungs.

He screamed out loud, his hands clasped to the side of his head, and in the same moments he'd found himself buried he found himself on his knees in the dirt, a dark wasteland around him, the ruins of a city that once was, the broken and decayed world around him causing sharp pains to run through his mind - he'd been jacked in, he'd been in the matrix. His breathing was heavy and he collapsed into the dirt, his fingers clawing at the ground beneath him, he ripped up part of his sleave as he gasped with his head against the ground and his eyes fixated on the plugs in his arm. He shivered on the ground as he rolled onto his back, coughing and spluttering, his body trying to force the goo from his lungs that wasn't there. His head seemed to pound as he was sure it filled with a humming that almost caused his eyes to go back into his head, he forced his head upwards and grunted as he looked above him to see a hovercraft descending slowly. Every moment he lay there was agony and all he could do was watch as the ship landed and the ramp came down, the light from inside the craft seemed to singe his retinas as he closed his eyes and tried desperately to make them focus. Two people descended the ramp of the hovercraft, he could only make out their outlines as he tried to move.

He felt himself being grabbed and dragged up the ramp and felt his fingers bouncing along the metal ramp as he tried desperately to stop his movement, to regain control, the people dragging him passed words he could bearly undestand as he passed out.

"Think he's still going to be any use to us?"

"We'll see what Marble thinks."

....

A small wearhouse just on the border of richland in the crumbling dristricts of westview, a man paces back and fourth beneath something - adorned in a strange outfit with a helmet with a painted visor.

Commitment.

You see that's what it's really all about, people these days don't want to commit to anything, they don't want to be evil, or do things that people don't agree with. No one can really commit to a cause and follow it without straying from the path or wandering off the road that lies before them. People are so bloody pro-peace sometimes they forget that too much peace means your a doormat for the guy who is anti-everything.

The only thing worse are the warmongers who tell you that peace is what they are fighting for, cause then you get two armies that don't just believe they know what's right, but are willing to kill and die and do terrible things for what they've been lead to believe.

People can't commit to themselves cause they are too busy giving in to other people, people, beings entities, AI's. Were all on the same bloody boat that's being ripped apart by the tide and sinking fast. And then there's complacency, my god - were all quick to act but the problem is were all waiting for the time to act - or acting like those little things we do on the side really matter. Sure they matter to us - but do they really matter?

Does any of it really matter?

I don't, you don't, this doesn't - no one is going to know what this is.

The bloodied body suspended upside down from the cieling of the small wear house shifted slightly. It stirred and moaned, as it tried to see past the crimson slipping over it's face at who it was speaking to.

"Why....why are you doing this......."

The man in the painted swat mask continued to waltz around the hanging focal point, as he tapped the baseball bat in his hand against the palm of his other hand.

The why, an interesting point to tangeant on, I could go into cause and effect, and what you've done to wind up here, why i'm doing this to you, but let's say there is no why. Say this is completely random - in a system of control how can anything be random, a bullet that riccochets, a coin toss, the way the wind blows, if it's all controlled then perhaps something else has controlled your pressence here.

Perhaps this is where you were destined to wind up, that's the problem with destiny, if it's set in stone people are destined to fail, if it's changeable then it's not really destiny is it? Perhaps you can change your current posistion, perhaps not.

It's now that he reaches out with the blunt instrument to poke the man hanging upside down and dripping onto the floor.

You know the saddest thing about people these days, is that they only react, they don't anticipate. Oh well, batter up.

"What - no - please please no don't!"

Some screams go unheard for a few minutes within the decaying district, and then only the sound of something splashing against the floor and sound of footsteps moving away.

When everything has been peeled back, when all the additions are torn away and all that is inconsequential - all that could never matter is ripped from the bottom up. You are left with the truth, the undeniable unequivocal truth. What you really are beneath it all, it's a sight many could never truly find, let alone be able to look upon freely. To do so could mean the very end of everything they'd ever convinced themselves to be truth, to be knowledge.

He sat atop the Dawei sculpture in quiet contemplation - there were no sunglasses hugging his head, no brawlers gloves, no weapons strapped to the interior of a coat he'd not brought with him. Even his feet were bear, he was but himself and the light Gi attached to his frame. The grey clouds above lightly pelted the earth below as rain drops swelled and fell, each randomized piece of logic within their specified place telling them where to fall, where to land and what puddles to make. His eyes were closed as he sat, the droplets colliding with him, his spiked hair falling flat to the light impact of each drop.

=

Enlightenment.

Enlightenment is a process in which one grows more aware of the falsifications in the world around them, where one does not become stronger or more powerful, but more aware. To be aware of that which isn't, and which cannot - in order to see past it. Enlightenment cannot be obtained externally, it is within one's self, that the journey must be made.

One must not seek the falseness of the world around them, but rather the falseness of themselves. To peel away the world around you, is to leave you with nothing but your own created falsifications, but to remove yourself of that which is untrue within - is to force the world around you to yield unto you it's truths.

It is not as simple as destiny or pre-ordained fate, nor as simple as cause and effect - within this place we define our realities and subsequent unrealities, it is within this world that our continual steps forward slowly become steps backward.

If each and everyone one of us is incapable of fault, then the mistakes made are not learned from, they are doomed to be repeated.

=

The rain intensified slowly, more and more of the drops coming now, more hungrily seeking those dry spots and removing them. It collided with the pools of water below and was almost loud enough to hide quick and light foot steps moving towards the monument.

=

Purpose.

Purpose is the guiding hand of a so-called fate, but fate doesn't govern how purpose exists, or how we find it how we lose it. Without purpose, one loses their sense of things, their sense of self within a place such as this. This is a world built upon purpose, upon the point of existence - the why, reasons behind everything.

A place for every book, and every book in it's place. I've fallen off of the shelf.

Choice, control, fate or freewill - those who seek are lead to believe that each and every choice is already made - it is not for us to make the choice, but to understand it, to understand the why of it. I've found more questions then choices, more falsifications and nonsense then guidance, more circles then paths, more lies then truths. In the midst of this chaos it is the world I've chosen to blame for such, and in doing so forgone the very essence of what enlightenment is.

To be surrounded by lies and to be without purpose is not the fault of anyone, but the one who allowed it to happen in the first place. To have abandoned enlightenment for comfort, for ease - to have forfeited the very path so many swear to walk.

I am without purpose in this place.

I have stopped searching for enlightenment.

And I have lost the means to find these things.

=

"Then what is it you will do?"

The wingless angel's voice broke the noise of the rains assault on the water below, his tone as calm and cool as the droplets that slowly crept down his face.

"If I knew I doubt I'd be sitting here." He replied calmly, his eyes still closed, his mind batting thoughts and philosophies around in his head.

"Perhaps you would."

"Purpose is an interesting thing to speak of with you, especially since the Halborn incident."

"I still protect that which matters most Darminian."

"Is she truly gone Seraph?" He asked his tone not nearly as cold as it had grown over the years, his vividly unusual blue eyes now opening to stare into the round dark shades of the ancient seraphim.

"I cannot say."

His eyes closed again as his head lowered slightly, a bizarre mood had descended with the rain, and he was more unsure now then he'd been when he'd been drawn to this place of contemplation. As his mind mulled over the philosophical fragments he'd buried deep within his own consciousness so long ago, once again the seraphim's voice broke it.

"You no longer know yourself like you once did, I know longer know you like I once did."

His head turned slightly, his eyes narrowing at the man in the open white coat, his thoughts racing at his comment.

"I must apologize Darminian."

"For wha-" His sentence had only half escaped his mouth when the Seraphim's legs had shot out from beneath him where'd they been crossed and sent Darminian flying off the sculpture. He tumbled back off the edge and plummeted to the ground below, he landed within the large pool of water with a large splash and rose to his feet wiping the water from his eyes in time to see the seraphim leap down into the same pool of water and barely disturb it's surface.

For a long while the two merely stood within the pool of water, their eyes upon one another, the trees surrounding them, the wind picked up as the rain continued to poor. With the slightest of nods they charged at one another, volleys of strikes and kicks were sent back and fourth as they leapt to and fro, ducking and dodging sidestepping and weaving. For a time the sounds of their clothing being whipped around in the wind was indiscernible from the sounds of their blows moving through the air and the tactile parry's and combinations.

After a series of strikes had missed the seraphim, Darminian adapted the combo with an unorthodox kick - but the seraphim was too fast and easily caught him by the ankle and flipped him forward using his own momentum. Once again he found himself on his back beneath the water, he got to his feet and stared down his opponent.

"You are too distracted."

The two circled one another the rains descent growing faster and harder. Again the subtle nod played intro to a war of blows - the two of them constantly switching styles and tact in order to try to throw off the other. The seraphim's strikes to quick too flawless to counter all of them- his movements as fluid as the water surrounding their feet.

"You cannot find your path in this chaos."

Darminian caught a heavy blow to the chest and growled as he lunged forward and threw a heavy right hook his opponents way, the momentum carried him in a half circle as the seraphim ducked the blow and countered with a sift kick into his back once again sending him into the cold water beneath them. The water soaked him through and through, washing across his face as he pushed himself off of the ground, his head breaking the surface he spit out the water in his mouth and wiped it getting to his feet.

"There is no path to find, were all just following."

"Then you must break away."

"There's nothing to break away to - it's all the same!" Darminian snapped back charging the seraphim, his blows more hostile now, more vicious, they began to strike more rapidly, his speed increasing - the seraphim's visage still calm and collected but even he began to move more rapidly, occasionally one of them getting air born to avoid a blow or try and land one. Another failed attempt at an obscure punch was followed by a blow from seraph which sent him sliding backwards but still on his feet.

"Then find something that is not the same."

"I can't!" Darminian roared once again rushing his opponent, unleashing a flurry of kicks followed by a roundhouse which forced the seraphim to back peddle a few feet. He raised his guard again and Darminian did the same, the two of them switching stances.

"Why not?" The seraphim questioned - running forward into a kick that collided with Darminian's forearm - as he touched down again a fierce exchange of blows took place -this time with less speed and more power. The force from their blows and blocks sending cuts across the top of the water and through the rain that fell through the air. "Because -" Darminian belted out as he kicked off of the seraphim's guard and leapt backwards onto the ground behind him.

"THERE IS NOTHING TO FIND! His shout filled the park and the sky seemed to explode within the same moment the lightning breaking through the black cover. His frame ripped across the water towards the seraphim - but in the same instant it was off the ground, his feet running along the side of the sculpture and in the final feet of it he leapt into the air and began a deadly descent towards his opponent.

His fist collided with the ground beneath him as a tremendous splash of water shot out from around him. The park was dark now, leaving enough faded light to illuminate the area he was in, the lighting that pierced the cloud cover yielded the remainder of the area, he was alone, kneeling in the muck beneath the surface of the pool. His chest rising and falling rapidly as he sought air to fill his lungs as he spoke quietly.

"Th....there's nothing here......nothi...nothing left.....nothing that matters."

He rose to his feet in the midst of the down poor, the storm overhead, and simply stared out across the park, the water having completely soaked through his gi, and flattened his hair.

           -0700-
                -Old zion-
          -breifing room A7-

Phrack and the other officers stood to the side of the room looking over reports and information coming in from operatives all across the system, reports of sightings and conflicts, the winter chaos making things no easier this time around. While the majority of were flipping through the numerous reports, Phrack was looking over the troops being debriefed in the room before him.

Captains of the Pluribus Neo group and some other underground Zionist captains were also present, listening to the man on the elevated platform explain the situation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as previously theorized the BIP is tied to Trinity. More evidence has surfaced, indicating that the BIP program is, in fact, or is related, to the former Zion operative. No doubt you've all heard of her and the stories - the IRS database is still one of the most noteworthy jobs pulled off to date. What some of you might not have known she was the only other person to have ventured to Machine City with Neo - they were very close, enough such that the possibility of her pressence is of great interest to us. Many rumors existed concerning her fate, several consisted of reports that she was in fact deceased. The mystery concerning her and this program is as confusing as it is intriguing."

"Moving forward - the recent confrontation between Ghost and presumably Agent pace in the presence of the BIP has got the city up in arms. A security feed from the building where everything went down
has been leaked to the general awakened populace, and like before it still seems to be a race to find and communicate with the BIP."

Darminian paced back and fourth as he spoke looking over the captains, it had been a while since they'd all gathered so formally and gotten straight to business. Aracher nodded to Odj who was in the
process of tweaking a nearby terminal, which resulted in a large monitor coming to life and displaying the security feed. His attention turned away from Odj and towards Darminian.

"We've still got no perfected means of tracking the BIP, that doesn't leave us with many options." Aracher spoke.

"Ghost didn't seem to have any problems tracking her down." External piped in over top of a report he was reading.

"If the BIP is in fact Trinity then it would make sense Ghost has an edge in terms of knowing her moves." Grey spoke this time as chatter began to run through the group of captains, rumors of failed romance, and drama ect. - all of this amplified by the fact that on the screen Pace had a weapon aimed at Ghost as he stood between her and the BIP.

"Listen up!" Darminian broke through the chatter and silenced the room.

"Ghost is our best bet in terms of tracking down the BIP, however his closeness to Trinity also makes him a target on several front's - as such our two priorities are the location and support of both parties. If it is in fact Trinity then we need to speak to her as soon as we can - she's the only one right now who might be able to tell us anything at all about Neo, also her pressence in the system has a means of renewing the concept that perhaps the One is in fact still alive as many of us believe. I'm not going to delve into the semantics of faith but I will say today is not a day to lounge around
we've got some work ahead of us, kids. Also, two complications have entered into the mix."

Darminian motioned to the monitor and on screen to white flashes erupted yielding the frames of two new Oligarchs.

"We don't know anything about them yet, but it's safe to assume they're here for the BIP and they're going to cause some problems, hopefully their presence here hinders the machines enough to give us the edge in finding and supporting Ghost and the BIP."

"Ah crap, not more of them." One captain chimed in.

"Seriously, how many of these bastards are there?" As did another captain.

"Apparently there aren't as many as initially thought but an exact number is uncomfirmed, there are plenty of theories, but the only fact is they are dangerous and they have an 'agreement' with the machines. They all also seem to want the BIP, not that that's news."

"So are we calling it the BIP or Trinity now?" Windfaller piped up.

"Call her whatever you like so long as were all on the same page." Darminian replied.

"As for dealing with the new Oligarch's, like before they are to be handled with extreme caution, they've proven themselves to be devious and manipulative as well as dangerous, learn what you can as fast as you can. The more we know, the better our chances." Darminian spoke before looking to the monitor.

The final frames of the security feed show the lupine operative fleeing the scene. Phrack spoke this time, having more detailed experience with Ookami then most were aware of.

"For anyone here who doesn't know, that's the Merovingian's lapdog Ookami - which mean's the Merv's are going to be on the same page as everyone else, if not moreso - they're going to be after the same parties and no doubt trying to manipulate the two new complications we've got on our hands. Don't forget that if this thing is Trinity, the Merovingian may feel he still owes her for the stunt she pulled in Club Hel, when last they met. Zion operatives are going to be in full-force support of Ghost and any of them with faith in regards to the One are going to be especially interested in the latest happenings. As per usual, support them where possible and necessary but don't forget our focal points. As for the machines - we're going to be warring with them all the time, anyway, so this is just another excuse - like Darm said - they'll probably have their hands full trying to keep the visitors from tearing the city apart while hunting, so now is the best time for us to operate." He paused a moment staring across the group of them assembled, a refreshed aura within the room in terms of motivation in interest, the silent fear behind the officers in terms of how long it might last.

"I want you and your crews to spread out across the Matrix and do whatever you can to learn as much as you can about what's happening. I want you to locate Ghost and the BIP, chances are if you find one, you'll find the other. I want special attention paid to the International district - there's been an influx of activity down there recently and we need to know why. You're all competent operatives so let's get out there and get this taken care of. The sooner, the better." With that, Phrack turned and headed back inside the office beyond the briefing room, after several minutes the room was empty save for the officers discussing the latest developments.

====

"What do you guys think?" Phrack asked, looking over the other Rank One's, in terms of all that had unfolded, as per usual the surface was simple - the most recent business with the BIP and everything else happening, but as always the past lurked beneath the surface, every step and movement, every intricate detail that followed the life line and actions of the group. He was stoic and quiet in contemplation while looking over his officers.

"You already know what i think." Darminian replied.

"You don't think it's her then?"

"I'm not saying it's not possible, but we have to accept the fact that as it stands there's no way of knowing for sure, everyone who is familiar with the One is familiar with the path and steps of him and those closest to him. I'd like to believe it is her for what it means, what it could mean, but I have to voice that it's still not confirmed yet."

"I'll grant you it's not one hundred percent, but if anyone would know, Ghost of all people would." Phrack replied to his doubting Thomas. Externalerror and Aracher were in quiet discussion concerning the
militaristic standpoint of the group and what it meant to support and protect the two parties. There was an electricity to the looming combat ahead, the two were hardened warriors with little to no fear of
death or pain, a disturbing result of a world turned so cold, yet their strength was a pillar.

"Whatever happens, we'll be able to handle it, blood or bullets. If this really is Trinity, we'll protect her." Ex spoke aloud.

"Agreed - we owe it to Neo to do so anyways, besides I'm always happy to spill Merv and Machine blood." Ex and aracher seemed to nod and chuckle - always ready for battle.

"Archangel?"

"I believe it's her Phrack, and this might just be the break we've been waiting for. If it is, she can lead us to Neo - if anyone could find Neo or save him it's her. She has before, she can do it again." Phrack nodded silently contemplating the priest's words.

"If she can lead us to Neo, then I don't doubt that every one of us will do whatever is in our power to protect her and do what we can." Archangel spoke again.

"I agree." Phrack replied.

The group grew silent in contemplation over all the "if's" and possibilities unfolding around them, soon after even they left the room, Phrack and Darminian stayed discussing the courses of action to take from there on.

===

http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300026963

Merry Christmas everyone.

Have a good one.

Darminian

/ooc

I've often sat in reflection of the way things are handled here story line wise player interatction wise and so-on and so fourth, and its interesting to me how so many are willing to make an arguement without knowing all the facts or otherwise.

Originally i intended to make this a post about misconstrewed ideas about our faction, but then i realized having you people think the worst of us only works out better so i don't need to go there. I mdo wish to comment on the amazing amounts of explanantion of other peoples actions and views, it amazes me.

Even the general hippocracy behind people saying that the path you walk is wrong because its forged in the name of one, whose opinions and tasks according to you are different, some of you are just as guilty for assuming the meaning without knowing it truly, food for thought i suppose.

I've come to a point where i wished to share something i believe with the community, if tthere is anything that can be taken from the one and his path, neo, smith, morpheus, the merrovingian, niobe etc. etc. It's that the importance of ones task and its execution can be done in the honor of a person or in his inspiration, worded strangely but my point is this:

Every one of these people, does what is necessary to do what they feel is right or what they must do. Sure there are moral infractions, moral contradiction and even disputes while inside ones self about certain actions, but things happen the way they do for a reason, here especially.

As for the idea behind interpreted purpose, if we all want to follow the path of the one, or the path of the merv or Morpheus etc. you need to know the purpose, you can't just think you know it, or describe it or tell someone what it is. Does that do any standpoint justice? Does it not just diminish it, after all it was all done of their personal ideals and beliefs, things which cannot be summed up with such words as peace or freedom, these words are lifesstyles and thrown around by those with hidden agendas and the confused.

I don't speak of my own faction but of everyone, people in general here are too quick to simplify and try to understand before they try to learn, i too am guilty of this, but the first step as they say is to admit to the problem.

The world we have here is made up of so many people with different ideals and beliefs and interpretations, whose to say what is right and what is wrong, to define innocence or the ideals of the gretaer good, no one can speak for or agaisnt the masses, but many try.

A lot of this can be used towards my own faction, so be it, i think by now its painfully clear your not going to stop us with words, but if you look past it, not to your enemies or conflictors but to yourselves you can see it aswell.

I don't know what i hope to do or prove or even show with this post, but i hope it at least stops you and sparks some thought to the greater scheme of things, in general.

As for what we do, or moreover what i do, should any of you really care, i find it necessary to point out there is very little the public know of the terrorists except what they see and hear, the ideals behind them are also over-simplified and overlooked, so be it, i know many are the same way with the cyrpherites but its all still interpretation vs. simplication.

I enjoy shaking things up here, i like to spot those cemented in their simpler ideals and knowledges of the matrix, and watching them cling to their own logic and ideals as they fight to prove a point that won't be made, that is heard but won't cahnge the course of events.

With the subject of bluepills, i do wish to sight another thread here, the idea that those of Higher regard here in the matrix, the names i continually follow with etc. Have killed blues when they deemed it necessary, and of course some counter with the idea that we are not them, we are not crucial to the story line or have a higher calling such as that, to you i can merely laugh and move past.

Part of the huge lesson i've learned here, is that everything is far more inter-connected than you think, and those times where your wandering around contemplating the possibility of things happening in the background without you, or your lack of connection to the main storyline, those can be your times to shine. Those can be the times where you take the story and run with it, im not saying make yourself the next one, but whats stopping you from creating a threat, or even working with someone to stop a threat or anything for that matter.

Im not gonna sit here and preach about running events or anything, but the world around us is only as active as the people in it, so regardless of what you think of the ideals of the faction, or your enemies or even team mates, its always good to remember the greater scheme of things, conflict breads:

creativity, passion, destruction, creation, life, death, love, hate etc.

It's through all of these things that we can find purpose and find reasons to be more involved and more effective and search for the true agendas and ideals of the many around us, but i suppose you can always not reflect, i mean it works just the same, its still going to be interpretation and simplification in my opinion.

A good example of how things are scene would be the orgs and the ways they are seen.

Zion

saviours/protectors of the freed human race

complacent fools failing to act and being controlled by the machines

cave monkies dwelling uselessly in wasted space and pathetic positions

Merrovingians/Exiles

Exiles of the world around them, seeking freedom

Villians of the matrix, scoundrels, thieves, monsters

A threat to the safety of the matrix, outdated software that needs to be purged

Machinists

Preservers of the truce and "peace" through total dominence and sleep within the matrix

Traitors to humanity, sellers of the flesh and cowards

Fools, and puppets to a higher and hidden agenda

Cypehrites

Enforcers of peace -by any means necessary, a total sleep for all to stop the chaos

Zionist traitors and scum, willing to sell their fles for thier own greed and personal gain

Terrorists who wish to impose ignorance and sleep upon us all, more tools of the machines

Pluribus Neo (yes thats right)

Beleivers of the one and his will to follow his own goal, supporters of morpheus and his quest for the one

Fool-hearty moronic tools whom follow a deceased bishop and a long-lost-martyr

A threat to the matrix and the saftey of those in it, a force that needs to be stopped

I could go on and on, but even now as i look back on this post i contemplate its deletion, i do hope you stop and think about something at least, even if its not what i said, i can only hope that this post does that at least considering im not sure why i made it.

The only conclusion i can draw is that its been pent up inside me and i figured i might aswell drop it to the community and see what they think.

Darminian

Message Edited by Darminian on 01-14-200602:20 AM

http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300006079

Darminian