Achilles, son of Priam


Achilles looked at Tammuz with a challenging smirk. "It's you this time,"
he said to his friend, as he held his mug in his hand. The pretty silver haired bar maid stood next to him with the skin ready to refill. The girl next to Tammuz, out of place raven dark hair, had the same. Their eyes constantly flicked to the small pile of silver on the table. Whoever won would give a share to his girl.

The sounds of dicing and raucous laughter filled the tavern, though a few were betting on their own game. In the foreign accents of these northern lands, the one girl counted "One. Two. Three. GO!" Immediately, Achilles began.

"One.


Tammuz immediately threw out "Two."


"Three!"


On up the numbers they raced, as fast as possible. They were getting close to 21. Wait. Who was gonna be the one to avoid saying it? This was already their third game and his head was a bit foggy from the mead and whatever else these people had fortified it with. Him. It was him.

"20!"
Tammuz yelled.

"20!"
he repeated just as quickly.

Tammuz heard the number and immediately responded "21!!!"
instead of 19, like he should have. Laughter erupted from them both and Achilles thankfully put his mug down and then watched as the girl filled Tammuz's to the brim and then him down it all as fast as possible. When he was finished, he burped long and loud and the whole tavern exploded with laughter. They didn't often get visitors from the south, but Achilles and his friends had been liberal with their coin and the buying of drinks. Drinking was the great equalizer.

Enki had said it best. Men need alcohol. It's the first thing every civilization makes along with weapons and shelters to enjoy prostitutes. Course that was a joke. But that was Enki. Always with the jokes.

Anyway, Tammuz's eyes swam. If Achilles had had three, Tammuz was up by almost double that. He was having fun. Prometheus and Coyote should be returning soon. He eyed the blued eyed beauty next to Tammuz- curse the man for a face that was almost as pretty as a girl's- as she commiserated with him over his loss. Her loss. This had been the final round. Just because she liked him didn't also mean she wasn't working him. Women could do both.

Achilles smiled and sat up to scoop the winnings towards him. He split off a few for another round for everyone, and then a few for the girl next to him, to whom he winked. "You're my luck now. Don't run off on me.'
She laughed and tapped his nose. He sat back into the chair thinking as Tammuz settled his girl. She wouldn't be disappointed long. His head was warm despite the chill of these lands. He might stay, one of these days. Might but probably wouldn't. Home called to him. The war. The War that was his life. The tattoo of the Iasan's tooth- the Dragon's tooth- was visible on his forearm. A remembrance. His father had given it to him. His father.

He would be going home. He would see his mother. But it was time to bring the war to the Gods.

The door to the tavern opened, the cold gust of wind sweeping into the room, causing the flames to flicker. He looked up, hoping it was Coyote and Prometheus. That they had succeeded.

Gwendolyn grabbed her rolling Samsonite briefcase off the luggage carousel and pushed her way through the common folk still waiting to get their bags. She spared some polite smiles and a shrug of her semi-bare shoulders for a couple of doting fans who recognized her, then slipped away with a swish of her white and red polka dot sundress. Her white high heels making a click-clack sound on the polished linoleum floor as she made a beeline toward the shuttle service. What a pain to still have to fly commercial, when you had to put extra work into looking good among the masses. But CNN wasn't willing to spring for a private jet. One day soon, though. Just not with her money.

She hadn't spent much time in Atlanta between stories, which was good, since the weather was hotter than the devil's taint right about now. At least Washington had a cool-ish breeze coming off the Chesapeake. Probably bringing lots of mosquitos with it too. They were good for news. Always breeding one exotic killer virus or another. Compared to a good apocalyptic killer virus story in constant development, an interview with Secretary Trano was pretty mundane stuff when it came to keeping viewers glued to their devices.

Her Wallet said that she was fifteen minutes early for her private sedan. Of course. She slipped on her sunglasses and crossed her arms, thought about sitting down on the bench, and reconsidered. It didn't look all that clean. Taxis pulled in and out of designated parking lanes. Two people were smoking not far away. The faint smell reached her nostrils. Ugh.
It made her itch for one. She hadn't smoked since college, and she knew what it would do to her skin and teeth, not to mention her voice. Filthy, disgusting cigarettes. She still wanted one though, every time she smelled that sickly sweet tobacco.

Gwen's Wallet went off suddenly, buzzing, fervently demanding her attention. She pulled it up, and noticed something odd on her screen. A weirdly encrypted message from some unknown source. Something something phaser? Had she been hacked? Wait. No. Not her. CNN. And it wasn't a hack but a direct message. A video. She pushed play. A hospital feed. Someone wounded. Moscow. Holy fuck!


Gwen grabbed her briefcase and marched herself right out into the middle of the street. Not the parking lane. The fast lane. She threw up her arm at an approaching taxi. The man slammed on his brakes.

"What the fuck you think you're doing? Move your ass, lady!" the driver yelled.

Gwen marched to the passenger side and opened the door, throwing her luggage in the back seat. "I don't have time to argue. CNN Washington bureau. Step on it!"
she snapped at the man as she slid into her seat.

The guy put the car in park and stepped out, coming around to the other side. "I don't think so, you crazy lady. I ain't taking you nowhere. Get the fuck out of my car!" He reached in and put a hand around her wrist, yanking her out. The other hand had a wicked looking rod in it.

Gwen was pulled up and knocked off her balance. Muscle memory was a crazy thing, though. She took one step in, righting her self. then her free hand swung around, the edge of her palm chopping down like a knife. She connected with his temple. Another step forward. She pulled her other hand in, forcing him off his balance toward her, and kicked up with her left foot. The top edge of her foot slammed into his groin. Then one twist with her still-pinned hand, and he was on his back.

Gwen picked up the metal rod and thew it absentmindedly away. It struck a parked car and it began to blare its alarm. "Don't you lay a fucking hand on me,"
she said in a cold voice. She stuck a heel right in his chest and gave him her sweetest smile. "Okay?"


That's when she heard sirens. Gwen looked around. Apparently she had drawn a crowd. Not surprising. Getting attention was what she did best. But she needed to get to the damn newsroom before someone else got the scoop.

Damien reclined in his leather chair like a lion resting in the sun. He looked between Elias and Asha. "Well, that was certainly something,"
he said to nobody in particular.

It had been a strange turn of events. Manix dead for some unknown reason, the crew long gone. Apparently, they were bad omen's now. Damien had been described as many things in his life, but this was new. It had a nice ring to it, if only his enemies believed it. It wasn't practical if potential allies were scared away.

He fixed his eyes on Elias. "What do you want to do now?"
It was the boy's affair. Damien was along for the ride and perhaps find out more about those meddlesome fellows that tried to kidnap him. "I could requisition a ship in Mexico. They like me much better than the people of Moscow."


To Asha he smiled and winked. She seemed to take the events worse than Elias and himself. Or maybe he was imagining things. She might very well be as hard as that spider Spectra Lin. That possibility was equally thrilling to contemplate. "I think you would like Mexico, my dear Asha. It is quite nice now the fighting has stopped. Children play in the streets of Mexico City once more."



Edited by Damien, Oct 14 2016, 08:52 AM.

The East Wing of the Lir compound is connected to but still separate from the rest of the compound. The walls between the East Wing and the rest of the compound are reinforced for attacks, while the East wing itself is a simple stylish home. No security camera were installed onto this side of the residence to give visitors their privacy.

Manix decided upon this based off the idea, if he trusted in his home, then they deserved privacy.

Entering thru the main door the Marine guards directs visitors to the right, thru and over sized door leading into the East Wing.

Liberty for the first time since the crisis in Sierra Leone. Jared had arrived in Moscow with a Commander Danjou and a contingent of security. Jared had been granted a break he needed very much. For the first time in forever, he was in civilian dress and felt like a civilian.

He still stood with a military precision. Certain habits were hard to break. Jared took a deep breath and looked around the market. He stepped into a shop and began to examine the wares. He had no plans to buy anything, he just wanted to look.

Having seen Sierra Leone, he had to marvel at everything they had here. There was so much here where as the Sierra Leonans had so little. Most of these items were unnecessary to anyone. He hoped that someday, more people could live in this kind of prosperity.

He left the shop he was in and decided to walk farther. Strangely enough, he was so used to being busy that he didn't know what to do with his free time.


Edited by Jared Vanders, Oct 11 2016, 09:44 AM.

This was life. The excitement in the air was palpable. Even moreso for a sentient. All of the cast members were ready to go. Anton was in his dressing room, applying his makeup. He had done this long enough that he did his own, unless something really difficult had to be done. The role of Orpheus didn't require a lot.

Anton got into costume, which basically consisted of a red toga and a pair of greek sandals. Again, it was nothing elaborate, but it looked fine. He put himself through some warm up exercises, and got himself into character.

The story of Orpheus was a tragedy, but it had its happy moments. He would have several emotions he would have to draw upon tonight, but in reality. He was just excited about this performance. The role of the Greek myth was one he had always wanted to play. And a role he always felt some sort of connection to.

Final preparations complete, Anton got to his place. It was just about time for the curtain to open. The Orchestra was tuning, and Anton got out his lyre - his main prop - and tuned it as well. This would be fun.

2000 hrs and all was assembled. Again the Viking's lined up on the attack ship and Manix was alone on the defense ship. Manix had tried not to think about this battle, this was going to test his skills too and he didn't want it to pre-planed. Easy enough with how busy he had been. He reached for the light, again grabbing it by the throat and taking it down into submission. Each time felt like it took hours, in reality it was less than a heartbeat.

The red flare launched and the fight was on. 2 boat crews hit the water, one in a zeppelin, on team under the water on scuba. A crew was on each side of the pool approaching in a standard "I" formation, 2 other crews on land fanned out further. Manix made his shield around himself and started a strong whirlpool in the center of the pool. The crew in the zeppelin abandoned the boat and willing floated into the malstorm. They began the test firing quick to get bearing an it wasn't long before paint markers hit the shield.

The crews on land, closest to the water was sent 2 more separate threads one build a high wall another built a low wall. Port side attackers hit the high wall while the starboard side tripped over the low. The other 2 crews were out of site. Manix used air and water to create a mirror to see behind him. The port side had built a human pyramid and reached the top pulling the others over, while the starboard side by the 3rd team member was hurdling the fallen with the rear members helping em up. Manix had a surprise for em and that was when the 1st sonic blast hit.

A bell rung in his head but he held the 4 weaves getting ready to adjust them. The second and third, forth , fifth, sixth, from all side one after another his the shield. Manix tied off the malstrom thread, his current shield he thought was making it worse. He expanded the side crushing down, that helped the echo, some. Port and starboard teams were closing in. Using Air he send a solid moving wall at both teams and saw it crash into them when the next round of sonics hit.

Four rounds hit this time the pain was horrible, Manix sank deeper into the waters of his mind. In the mirror 2 crews approached from behind, Port and starboard crews were recovering and getting ready for the 3rd round. Then Manix got an idea. He made concave cones on over his shield, when the 3rd round hit a majority was reflected back toward the Vikings. Even with ear protection they wasn't prepared for their own weapons to be turned on them. Manix was out of time, he was near exhaustion and in sever pain from the sonics.

he untied the malstorm and made it stronger, using wind he send both port and starboard crew splashing into the water (wishing he thought of it before) he sped up the malstrom to the point the underwater crews were now topside and vomit was filling the pool. During this same time 2 threads went behind him snagging one of the crews behind him, like a vine in the jungle. Wrapping them tight from toe to chin, easing just enough so they could breath. One crew he missed and they was at his door.

The lead crew member had raised the but of his weapon to strike the shield. A calculated move, a risky move, Manix dropped that portion of the shield. The Viking fell forward off balance, before he could recover Manix snap kicked him in the chest forcing him to fall back into the others. Manix quickly wrapped them up and tied off all threads but the malstrom, he was shocked with how many he had going at once. The blue flare was launched.

Manix was on his knees, he released and untied all the treads but held onto the power, if someone was hurt bad, he was afraid he could not get it back. 2 Crews were held back and they rushed out to help their team mates, SynJyn rushed to Manix, worried. Never before had he seen the boy so drained. The Vikings nearly won. "Corpsman up was heard from a few places, Manix stood still, they would call him if it was life threatening, did he have the strength to heal? "CAPTAIN MANIX!"
came from behind them.

SynJyn helped Manix up and over to the fallen, it was the man Manix had kicked in the chest. The Corpsman had him on leads and his rhythm was off and his blood pressure narrowing. Manix weaved spirit into the chest. what he saw was alarming, but he was sure he could fix it before passing out. The lining around the heart was filling with fluid and squeezing the heart to the point it could not beat (Pericardia Tampa node). Manix send in flows of all 4 of the elements that he knew of and released the fluid around the heart, breaking up the make up of the fluid so it could be reabsorbed. His blood pressured steadied. Manix then healed the surrounding tissue and use earth and fire to mend the 2 broken ribs, then he waited. He waited as long as he could to see if fluid would return, it didn't, at least for now. Sealing the lining he withdrew and released the power.

The Corpsman could handle the rest, they had standing orders on follow up of any patient Manix healed. The night had quieted or was Manix falling quiet. He looked for and couldn't find SynJyn, in fact he saw nobody, did they leave him? That was his last thought when he finally passed out.


Edited by Manix, Oct 7 2016, 09:03 PM.

2000 hrs and all was assembled. Again the Viking's lined up on the attack ship and Manix was alone on the defense ship. Manix had tried not to think about this battle, this was going to test his skills too and he didn't want it to pre-planed. Easy enough with how busy he had been. He reached for the light, again grabbing it by the throat and taking it down into submission. Each time felt like it took hours, in reality it was less than a heartbeat.

The red flare launched and the fight was on. 2 boat crews hit the water, one in a zeppelin, on team under the water on scuba. A crew was on each side of the pool approaching in a standard "I" formation, 2 other crews on land fanned out further. Manix made his shield around himself and started a strong whirlpool in the center of the pool. The crew in the zeppelin abandoned the boat and willing floated into the malstorm. They began the test firing quick to get bearing an it wasn't long before paint markers hit the shield.

The crews on land, closest to the water was sent 2 more separate threads one build a high wall another built a low wall. Port side attackers hit the high wall while the starboard side tripped over the low. The other 2 crews were out of site. Manix used air and water to create a mirror to see behind him. The port side had built a human pyramid and reached the top pulling the others over, while the starboard side by the 3rd team member was hurdling the fallen with the rear members helping em up. Manix had a surprise for em and that was when the 1st sonic blast hit.

A bell rung in his head but he held the 4 weaves getting ready to adjust them. The second and third, forth , fifth, sixth, from all side one after another his the shield. Manix tied off the malstrom thread, his current shield he thought was making it worse. He expanded the side crushing down, that helped the echo, some. Port and starboard teams were closing in. Using Air he send a solid moving wall at both teams and saw it crash into them when the next round of sonics hit.

Four rounds hit this time the pain was horrible, Manix sank deeper into the waters of his mind. In the mirror 2 crews approached from behind, Port and starboard crews were recovering and getting ready for the 3rd round. Then Manix got an idea. He made concave cones on over his shield, when the 3rd round hit a majority was reflected back toward the Vikings. Even with ear protection they wasn't prepared for their own weapons to be turned on them. Manix was out of time, he was near exhaustion and in sever pain from the sonics.

he untied the malstorm and made it stronger, using wind he send both port and starboard crew splashing into the water (wishing he thought of it before) he sped up the malstrom to the point the underwater crews were now topside and vomit was filling the pool. During this same time 2 threads went behind him snagging one of the crews behind him, like a vine in the jungle. Wrapping them tight from toe to chin, easing just enough so they could breath. One crew he missed and they was at his door.

The lead crew member had raised the but of his weapon to strike the shield. A calculated move, a risky move, Manix dropped that portion of the shield. The Viking fell forward off balance, before he could recover Manix snap kicked him in the chest forcing him to fall back into the others. Manix quickly wrapped them up and tied off all threads but the malstrom, he was shocked with how many he had going at once. The blue flare was launched.

Manix was on his knees, he released and untied all the treads but held onto the power, if someone was hurt bad, he was afraid he could not get it back. 2 Crews were held back and they rushed out to help their team mates, SynJyn rushed to Manix, worried. Never before had he seen the boy so drained. The Vikings nearly won. "Corpsman up was heard from a few places, Manix stood still, they would call him if it was life threatening, did he have the strength to heal? "CAPTAIN MANIX!"
came from behind them.

SynJyn helped Manix up and over to the fallen, it was the man Manix had kicked in the chest. The Corpsman had him on leads and his rhythm was off and his blood pressure narrowing. Manix weaved spirit into the chest. what he saw was alarming, but he was sure he could fix it before passing out. The lining around the heart was filling with fluid and squeezing the heart to the point it could not beat (Pericardia Tampa node). Manix send in flows of all 4 of the elements that he knew of and released the fluid around the heart, breaking up the make up of the fluid so it could be reabsorbed. His blood pressured steadied. Manix then healed the surrounding tissue and use earth and fire to mend the 2 broken ribs, then he waited. He waited as long as he could to see if fluid would return, it didn't, at least for now. Sealing the lining he withdrew and released the power.

The Corpsman could handle the rest, they had standing orders on follow up of any patient Manix healed. The night had quieted or was Manix falling quiet. He looked for and couldn't find SynJyn, in fact he saw nobody, did they leave him? That was his last thought when he finally passed out.


Edited by Manix, Oct 7 2016, 09:03 PM.

All Victoria could think of as she made her way to the entrance of the Kremlin was that she should have changed. Wouldn't have been hard, just drag her uniform out of her bag, use a room in the airport. Would've been wrinkled however, so maybe it was all pointless anyway. She was stressing over nothing now, and it was just silly. The General would be more bothered with dedication than flashy show. Hopefully.

The Kremlin was impressive enough by itself;the great, ancient red brick, the home of Russian might and power for centuries. Now it represented the beating heart of half the world. It was enough to make the hairs on her arm rise, goosebumps prickling sense of awe. The masses of armed soldiers, crawling about like a swarm of ants, hammered that feeling in. How could anyone even bring a nuclear device into here? It was a thought that still raised an indignant anger in her; her oaths to the Custody and the Ascendancy stood strong. It was like an attack on them, was an attack on her. Practically as a solider, it could well be.

Of course she was stopped by guards, barked questions on why a civilian was walking around the seat of the government, under guard as it was. Fishing out her military identification changed that completely, earning her crisp salutes, respectful words. Her own military bearing seeped in again, no longer friendly as she had been with Sierra. Back straight, eyes cold, mouth set in a grim line. A quick couple of barked questions earned her the directions she needed to the reception of the central complex. Victoria was starting to realise that she had no real clue where she was going, or what she was supposed to do. Perhaps waving around her orders would help.

Boots clicking along stones, before onto the tiles as she passed through the sliding doors of the building, Victoria took a deep breath. Officers, suited men and women, walked everywhere, files in hands, muttering to each other quietly. This was where an empire was ran. It was... so impressive. Heading to a desk in the center, Victoria slammed to a halt in front of a receptionist, earning a surprised look from the man. Pulling out her i.d., and a copy of the orders from Koertig, she somehow straightened even more.

"Colonel Victoria Wolff of the 3rd Regiment, Army Division Panzer. I have orders to see General Bader Koertig, as early as I can. Is he available with the Kremlin under lock down?"

A young man was specially delivered to the hospital ER when he collapsed in the arrival area of the airport. On his wallet was a document that was titled "In Case of Emergency". Inside the document was contact information for the doctor the young man was to be meeting and express instructions to only take him to this hospital where Dr. Marcil worked.

Nurse Yvette had found the young man lying in a catatonic state on the floor. Now he was resting comfortably in the emergency room waiting his turn. He was out of the woods for now, though he had yet to regain consciousness. Or was very good at pretending to be asleep. There were several files on his wallet labeled medical records but Yvette hadn't opened them - rather she was unable to open them they were encrypted with some pass phrase she hoped Dr. Marcil would know. But Dr. Marcil was unavailable for the next few days as he was away on business. When she'd called him, he said, "The boy will be fine. Keep his medication the same. Just monitor him. I will be back tomorrow."

Yvette waited for the doctor who would eventually admit the boy. His wallet continued to beep with incoming messages. She thought about answering them, but she didn't feel right, she'd already invaded his privacy once. But sound was adding to her headache - she needed a breathe of fresh air real quick. She out the sliding doors to find some - he was perfectly safe where he was now and not really her problem,

****

The beeping of the monitors woke Sage. His hold body hurt like he'd been dropped from upon high. He knew he was in a hospital, he could tell just from the smell. But the place was busier than his last room. He sighed when his wallet buzzed. He squinted his eyes open to find the offending equipment, it was across the room on a chair with the rest of his things. He sighed - hospital gowns sucked.

Sage opened his eyes fully and tried to get a good look around. Short of the fact that there were signs hanging in Russian as well as English, it didn't look that different from the last hospital he was in.

His wallet buzzed again and Sage tried to move to get out of the bed without yanking the IV from his arm, or completely showing off his backside...