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1:26 PM (Omega Three..., Part 69)

 
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Entry 145
Book 6
Time; The Thirteenth Hour
Date; First week of December, 2158

Looking forward to that new year, when I get to write a 9 at the end of my dates instead of an 8? A minor second shorter writing a number with less strokes? Time keeps marching on, but once you clone, the aging process seems to stop. I'm about as young looking as ever, despite the amount of times I've been shot in the face, blown up, tortured, burned alive and beheaded. The only scars I seem to retain are the ones that have caused deep wounds in my memory with the more traumatic experiences rather than the ones from when I remember tripping over something or that time I cut open my arm on a window trying to break into my own house due to locking the keys inside. Time just keeps marching on and the older we get, the more I wish the Cloner's would all shut down and let the human race go extinct. Or at least, all these crazy clones with criminal records would stop spawning and take heed of the things they did to each other.

- I could have sworn White Crow held this encampment, but it looks like its held by Shiva now, and they're stronger than I remember. I dare not use the Cloner again, so I've bundled up the scrapes, cuts and bullet wounds that found weak points in my armor, the best I can.

I'm following the wind, trying to stay down wind of the settlements and traveling under the guise of rain to muddle my scent and wash away my tracks. The jammer Fixer sent me snug against my back. Big ass thing, but I can't expect much from the world with all the factories that used to make this stuff pocket size being a hundred years gone or more. Normally a radar hole around other clones would be easy to spot, but out here? It's rare to see another clone out here.

They'll find me eventually. They always do, its just a matter of how long I can stay hidden, how long I can stand the silence. Light and Darkness war for whatever is left of my soul, my spark, the thing that keeps me waking up every morning. Dire Kyotan's sense of smell and hearing helps me avoid bigger threats, he's gotten wise and is hostile to most clones, when we don't run away completely. I wont be able to run forever though. Is Death too good for me? Will they want me to suffer? Or will they just find some lock-down for my profile? Will it even matter next month, when the clones forget whatever happened before? Or am I just paranoid on all levels?

And what the FUCK does that eye mean?!

But I'm getting ahead of myself again. Bit of a gap between the end of the last entry and me being in hiding again, actively working pretty hard not to be easily captured. Its funny really, I originally intended the jammer for another use, another crime to launch my villainy ever upwards, but my own conscience keeps biting me in the ass every time I do something properly vile. Like hunting for the strongest wood I can find.


- This week started with being handed a Coyote's eye at the Flagstaff vaults. This is not the first time I was handed a single eye much less from this particular creature. I'd seen it enough times to know what it was and receiving another one always makes my brain itch. Not only am I being watched, but I'm being watched by someone who knows I'm up to something. I don't remember seeing the girl before and she was gone almost as soon as she was giving it to me. It kind of set the tone for the week.

- Decided to get the fuck out of Flagstaff and take Dire Kyo out for a long run through Kaibab Forest. I try and give him a good run and play with him every day, but sometimes I have to leave him with the stable hands when I go into dangerous territory. A few days down in the forest, digging for supplies and salvage while making plans for the next week, lining up ideas in my head and a new game to play. I was still thinking about opening a restaurant that wasn't allied to any of the clans at this point. A few days silence to dream of bliss that would never come.


- Came back late in the evening a few days later and made a pit-stop at Credit Bend just to have Void pull up beside Dire Kyotan and grunting about work. I don't know what Succubus was doing in Credit, but as soon as Void spotted her, she was given orders to follow. If he was making a Pack and calling for more, it was not the time to argue about the hit.

The target was hit at Blaine. I didn't know the specifics, just worked as the extra guns and muscle. Guard the gate, Ard. Guard the ladder, Ard. See Ard. See Ard Run. Run Ard, Run! See Ard shoot wall. Shoot that wall, Ard, shoot it! What a terrible waste of ammo. Bad Ard. Bad.

What was going on wasn't important enough to tell me about really, I guess. Void and Succubus were really in to it, whatever it was about. Succubus had been fighting hard with the man in the room when we came in and made some noise. It wasn't until I was following orders and binding the man's arms that I recognized the armor and made out some words, enough to realize it was Tinker. Considering the information I learned about him when we met, I made a point of getting the fuck out of the room when the knots were firm and guarded the hall to prevent anyone from coming in.

The particular pitch and panic of the screaming was enough to give me a pretty good idea of what was happening, and when the order came to move and the man came out missing the pretty hair of hair he had, all I could do was sigh. And scold Succubus as I was the one ordered to move him. If they were going to torture him, it should've been outside of Blaine, in a Safehouse, when the area had been cleared of potential rescuers. We didn't have the strength or numbers to take on an angry Blaine. I wrapped up his head as best I could to keep him from dying of blood loss while I ran him across the countryside to the days selected safe house and passed his unconscious form to Void.

Void dismissed me when  I asked to leave, but MJ was there and wanted to ask me something. I went out back and sat int he grass, ignoring the pikes with dried heads stuck into the ground or the hanging corpse from the wooden beams of the structure beside me. There'd been more than a few corpses in the area, but I didn't bother to find out what had killed them. I just made a point of going far enough that I wouldn't be able to hear a word of what was being said and done to Tinker.

- When MJ finally settled down, she didn't ask her question right away. She looked at me for a long time and finally said something was different about me. A lot of people have been saying that lately. They can never seem to quite place what it is they think Im missing now. I figure I just have no reason to be happy any more, so why bother faking it. Built for another place, another time, a totally different war...

Then she asked me what Rape meant.

At first I tried thinking of some childish way of explaining it and telling her not to go around with any men trying to touch her in bad ways, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized; she was going to basically be stuck this age forever. The immortalization of the cloning process was going to slow her growth and intelligence based on when in her life the collar was snapped onto her neck. I changed tactics and became blunt, giving her details and the problems that came from rape, the issues of unwanted babies, and finally letting her know that a fair amount of the Reavers practiced it whenever they could.

I felt sick to my stomach. I wasn't quite telling her about my personal experiences with the issue, but actually telling someone else I was working with rapists drove the point home. The dream bubble burst and I felt myself 'waking up' to the realization that I was working with the very people I'd spent my non-clone years desperately fighting to keep away and correct. MJ asked if I was sick. Asked if I missed Skirtboy and Panther. I didn't answer her. I just felt sick and dead inside, like what the Plague had done, but this wasn't going to be fixed with a medical injection. No anti-bodies or pills were going to save me from this growing sickness.

I smoked and watched the sunset when she went back inside. MJ went back inside and soon after I heard motors park in the distance and the wind shifted, a light scent of cleanliness and someone who had daily access to Soap. I watched Sparrow, Kada and Barbie approach from the corner of my eye and thought about Justice, and how there was none in this world. Just people endlessly, fruitlessly fighting in a never ending dance of emotions and immortality. Feeling the light fading as the sun began to dip on the horizon, I listened to them making fair efforts to sneak into the house. I could almost feel Barbies sights on my head. Something happened inside. There was shouting, cursing, quickly made plans. I didn't see the end of it.

Because my Master's Voice dripped from my Collar Radio; Omega Three.

Master's orders overrule all others. I got on Dire Kyotan and left immediately. I dropped a note to Fixer about making me a Signal Jammer, and headed to Flagstaff for my last Ride with the ISMC. I removed my name from the Reavers roster.

- About twenty, maybe thirty riders showed up for a quick drive and speedy race around Sector Two, ending up in Despair's Township for booze and partying. Normally I'd write some epic entry about how amazing they were and the power of their comradery, but I had shit to do and when they all pulled up to the bar, I made some notes on headcount and vehicle make then left.


- Panther found me about a day later, still in the black and red/yellow outfit Skirtboy had given me. I was reluctant to let it go. Deep in my own thoughts, I didn't really notice him until he started quoting poetry. I never pegged Panther for a poetic man, but I guess I cant be that surprised with how important respect and honor is to him.

He took me back to Sector One and we just walked for a while. Telling me about being at a Crossroad in my life and trying to help me calm down and seek my path. Reminded me we were Brothers now and he'd support me no matter what. Ended up on a cliff looking out over the canyon expanse, almost enough to see the entire sector. It was beautiful. More so when he decided to guide us both in near silent meditation and just push out everything that had been happening, the chaos that I entice to come and play just with my sheer existence.

He poked and prodded and kept at it until I gave in and started talking. Not the twisted words I say when I'm trying to get someone to do what I want, but from that deep well that's been rotting to pieces for the past few months. Where I store the truths no one wants to hear or believe are real. Told him about my conversation with Mary Jane. Almost cried when he took my hand and let him ramble for a while so I could fight to keep my composure. My face stings and my stomach flips when he touches my skin. I cant let him do that any more if he wants to keep up this Brotherhood illusion.

I explained why all the forced sex stuff bothered me. I told him what I remember from fragments of Master's speech I've uncovered from my dream-state. How while I was being tortured for my crimes, Pre-Fall, he made a point of giving me a lecture in sexually oriented crime and punishment, the process of using ones own gender to destroy ones self worth and identity. Then I told him about the machine I'd been locked into until any thought that caused arousal generated pain from the contraction forcing my blood and bodily fluids again and again and again beyond any man's normal capability to enjoy himself.

Despite all the things Panther has experienced on the battlefield, I'm pretty sure just about any time I talk about myself, he ends up horrified. I am the furthest from 'normal' one could possibly get, I guess. I tend to have that reaction from Fixer a lot as well. Hardened men who have seen terrible amounts of senseless violence, unable to handle the details of my life as I unwind it and hold it out to be seen. Scaring Panther just makes me feel worse.

I changed the topic. We discussed my abandonment of the Reavers. I had a hard time figuring out how to tell him how I felt about the situation. Putting it to words for someone who wasn't there made it harder. I couldn't give him any real information, not names or locations or whys or hows. Skirtboy made me promise a long time ago I'd never hurt another Reaver and information like that could have been leaked. I trust Panther, but I also know him well enough that the right words will make him blab everything he knows on whatever the subject is.

I suppose what it came down to was everyone living in a shadow of a legacy that the people did not want to give up. Skirtboy had a way of doing things and keeping the most radical minds together and stable. With his guidance absent, everyone had a different memory, a different ideal way they saw Skirtboy and how he used them. They rarely matched up with the vision the others had of him. Some of the New Bloods had never had the privilege of meeting him at all and had no idea what the fights were about when they happened. Even now, I'm not totally sure what I remember of Skirtboy is the way he really was, my vision now tainted with the stories and opinions of the others.

The clan had become an insult instead of a hard, cohesive force. He's only been gone three weeks, but every day he is gone, the more I feel the wasteland has nothing left to offer me. I am not seeking Forgiveness. I am not seeking Absolution. I have no God to believe in, no greater calling to strive for, no dream of my own. I am that little horsey thing on the chess board. Smart enough to more forward but always a step to the left, twisting off the standard rail.

I just want it to end.

- Panther scolded me for telling him he'd left me. I still feel like he doesn't 'get it' when I tell him that. He still swears we are Brothers, that he loves me, that he wont leave me behind. Before I could answer, he held out a new Sub Machine Gun. Soon as he gave me the shiny, I yanked myself up out of the dark well and tried to put on the attitude everyone fell in love with and try the thing out a bit before thanking him. I do love those bloody guns, even if it isn't as satisfying as a blade plunged directly into a warm body.

- We camped at that spot that night. Sleeping under the stars. He passed out almost instantly but I was up for a while. Watching him sleep, thinking this would probably be the last time for that too. I slept, eventually.



- Fire is a strange thing. It is a force of nature that is as necessary in life as it is dangerous to it. Nature provides many ways to start fire, both great and small, and is a cleansing and renewal process. When the tangles of plants and carcasses gets to be too much that nothing can properly grow, fires rage and destroy everything so the seedlings can leech off the reprocessed nutrients and reach for the sun. So important is Fire to the natural world that certain types of medicinal herbs, mushrooms, psychedelic plants and a few rare forms of silk spinning worm can ONLY be found in the remains of burned out woodlands or cannot functionally surface and expand without the specific chemical changes a fire can cause in the land.

So too does it affect Humanity. We do everything we can to try and change the natural balance and prevent fires since we are materialistic beings. We try and tend to the land and prevent the need for the changes by cutting down grasses and barricading fire into very small locations. We caution our children against the hazards of leaving a lens in the sunlight or soldiers cautioned about fire hazards from the spark of a bullet. Yet we too are things of nature and cannot forever escape its grasp. The more we hold it back and push it back, the more terrible it becomes when it finally happens.

Panther was gone when I finally woke from my nightmare. A dream of shock, fright, pain, agony. My home was on fire, a fight between customers had gotten out of hand and the old shingles on the building were mere kindling feeding the fire. The building was consumed with flames before we could get a bucket line set up, being nowhere near civilization and a standard sewage system or even hydrants. Desperate work and a few brave souls pushing through the smoke and falling beams of fire got the women and children out of the rented rooms just before the roof gave way and completely collapsed. If it hadn't been for the trees, the loss of life would have been much higher when the fire got to my room and my ordinance started to heat up and go off. The clattering pops of bullets popping off was the only warning before the explosives I'd kept in my closet made short work of the rest of the building and anything else that was inside.

We watched the fire burn until there was nothing left and came back to the ashes. I stood there a long time, staring at the nothing that had been my home, my pride and joy for years, free of the pain and chaos my Father had left in me. Heavy hands fell on my shoulders and I looked up into the faces of men who'd never taken off their helms before. The dark eyes of the Tavern's guardian, his face scarred and pocked with war, his lips drawn into a tight flat line as he looked down at me. The other man a stark comparison, ceremonial armor made of shells and silks, a soft, kind face and a sweet smile. Behind them, the men who had started the fire, bound in chains and staring at the damage in shame. All around them were the people who had called the place home or just stopped by once or twice a year. Hammers, saws, hatchets, bolts of cloth, blankets, one of the Pirates had even filched a Chainsaw from somewhere.

Most of them couldn't hammer a nail straight, they argued over who had a better plan to build the walls better, the girls argued with the guys over how the decor should look, and every night until the building was finished, we hunted together for food and meat, cooked together, shared stories of the homes we had left behind to live there on the trade route, and watched over one another while we slept. We became the fertile soil that the next generation would grow from.

Omega Three.

I know what needs to be done now.



- It wasn't that hard, really. I'd spent enough time in Hope springs over the past year to have a fair idea of what Hope Springs found to be the most important about their township. Where their pride came from and how they defended it. In the most recent cases, not so much defending it as acting increasingly hostile to multiple people. They had lost all support from Flagstaff thanks to my word craft and convincing Slash to shut down communications between the cities about a month and a half ago. Their drunks had been giving the Bikers trouble, and The Reavers were straining and chafing at the Peace Pact I'd clicked in to place with the township. I'd expected them to break out sooner and tear me down from the position of a self proclaimed Peacekeeper a while ago. Even Stairway had issues with the township and their seemingly random decisions on who to treat kindly and who to attack while drunk or sober.

ANGER is a fairly effective tool to use, especially when one can draw it out to fit with everything else around them. Anger is like a Fire, and the more it is held back, the stronger it becomes when it is released. Without an outlet, eventually it would develop into a War situation. As much as that would make me happy, I know far too well it would ruin more lives than just the ones they can see within their little cages. Every single one of them needed a wake-up call to remember why Peace existed, why there were parties every night and why the clans had the pacts they did.

A disaster would generate movement of Trade again. Idle hands make for mischief, so simple jobs such as building walls or cooking for those put out of homes would be needed. A Watch would be needed, keep out roaming pests and carnivores looking for a meal while rebuilding was being done. Yes, I completely per-meditated the damages done to Hope Springs. With Omega Three active, I didn't have much choice in the matter.

I contacted every CHOTA I knew who was still willing to bear arms and had a beef against the town. I contacted Fixer, to make sure he wasn't in town when I planned to strike and get himself an Alibi. I calmed Mary Jane, I hunted Jellybean until I found him for a chat. I made plans to talk to Jackhammer and bring her as a witness if not an attacker. Yes, I even got a few of the NFPD to come down and participate in throwing all their anger back at Hope Springs for all the hatred and aggression that had been aimed at us and everyone else who weren't part of the Townie Cult. It would be a surprise attack, everything was in place to raze the town and burn it to the ground once and for all.

- What the history books wont tell you, however, was the two days of communications I had with Sarge about what was going on. First having him list all the injustices the town had done against the Bikers and listening to him gripe about how irritated the town was making him as the townies repeatedly engaged them on combat. Gently massaging his drunken mind towards the direction I wanted it to go, then yanking it up short before I pushed it up over the edge. I told him the attack plan, and that I did not want him to be part of it. He begged to have advance warning so the club could save the people they had bonds to, and negotiated until I allowed him once safe location within the town, provided his people defended it from us. I told him to play it up like a party and that if he tipped off the town, I'd hunt and kill every single one of his club.

- *Scrawled in the margins* Talked to a lot of people at the Market, but it was the one who never talked that left me puzzled. Big Dog gave me another Eye, then his whole crew left the sector.

When the time for the attack came, I only gave him half an hour notice.

I had to let myself have a moment to laugh and clap at watching an entire biker gang scramble to their vehicles and pull out of one city to race to another as though hell itself were riding on their coat tails. While they tore up the road, I rallied the CHOTA and picked up the stragglers. Jellybean and Mohawk had been set up into positions before I'd given Sarge the warning and they were radioing back reports on progress and the movements of the bikers while I pulled together the troops that had been seeded to pick up information from the gossip around the Crafters Market.

- I would have liked to talk to Void, but I only glimpsed him once and he was gone before I could call out to him. Tophat might have liked to have watched as well, or perhaps even fought for them, but again, could not seem to find the man. they were good at not being present when they wanted to be.

As it was, we were Ten children strong, and I made a show of it. Screamed the tribal warcry, ran them together to make them feed off each others energy. I even managed to get Skimpy into the mess of things, her child like behavior adding to the feeling of excitement and rage I had to foster to make sure the attack even happened. I called in the assault force around behind the Garage on the road outside of town for a quick pep talk and to see who was serious about the assault. Not too much talk or they'd see right through me, just pulling the group tighter together into a knot of anger and hate. They needed to move TOGETHER to make it work, to make the attack function, to do enough damage to make a stand that wouldn't simply be forgotten the next day.

I made them drive around the Mayors estate, engines of cars, buggies and motorcycles shaking the township as we hooted, hollered and jeered, firing our guns into the air or dangerously close to the innocents that had dared to poke out their heads and see what was going on. I screamed orders, taunts, war cries as we burned the bar. Egged on their personal issues, used them, abused their petty irritations and genuine dislikes, warped those baby emotions into sharp blades they would later regret. After assaulting the Bar, the Gas station and a few breaking off to assault the Waffle House and Medical facility, I pulled them up tight and headed straight for the Mayors residence again.

I had originally planned on breaking around the building and attacking the homes of the residences, but Mary Jane's young voice piped up and she shared her piece of anger to the mob, and the sweet child's voice made my jeering and rabble rousing seem pale in comparison.

I played her, too. Told them all to hit it like a Pinata, like a birthday party she probably never had or didn't remember. I didn't have to do much else after that, the entire force attacked the symbol of the Manor with the deepest depths of their rage, chanting, "BURN, BURN, BURN!" together as gas and petrol fueled the fire to spread even faster, the walls riddled with bullets by angry children and cops. Maybe I got a little more swept up in it all than I'd meant to. It is very difficult to control a mob once it gets going.

Since all their attention was focused on the large burning building, I made my way up to the front of it and gave them a little speech, and while it was not the complete truth and another twisting of words to make them do what was needed to be done, it had the effect I was looking for. They had noticed the almost total lack of defenses or counter-attacks and it was confusing the mob. They wanted to rage and fight and kill, yet there had been little if none of that. Just enough information to let the Raid know that the bikers knew about my plans and were playing their part too, and where the safe house was with all our would be resistance.

I told them if they wanted to kill, to do it. I was just there to Burn. I lit up a few more houses on my own before I returned to the CHOTA to find them held out of the agreed safe house grounds by a wall of motorcycles and cars parked end to end, the Iron Sights armed and facing outwards behind their vehicle wall. The CHOTA gnashing their teeth and trying to taunt the Townies out of their safety. I went out to the front line and had a brief talk with Sarge. He kept his word, so I kept mine. Told the Children to leave the house alone and told Sarge that Ghost should print up that CHOTA don't take shit from anybody. I shook his hand and made sure everyone could see the little Truce I was making with Sarge. When I Kill, I don't leave witnesses. When I fuck with Politics, I make sure I have as many witnesses as I can.

- Doc Pom is, understandably, upset and spat all kinds of things in my direction, as did the other townies and the Iron Sights that did not agree with the actions that were being taken. They would thank me later, thank me for giving them someone to focus their hate towards and foster stronger bonds with those around them. Well, maybe not me, they might thank my gravestone, left unmarked and to be forgotten by time. It was only a matter of time before I met my end with this activity.

- I cut away from the Children again and walked down an ignored road, looking over untouched homes with a gas can in one hand and a lighter int he other. Nice homes. Large portions of the town already on fire, my point already made, I didn't light up any more. More, I wondered what a normal life was like. What it would have been liked to be capable of love, the kind that people wrote music about. The process of courting a life long mate, having children, building a home, a garden, growing old together and dying with the setting sun, never to wake in a cloner and wonder who had killed you the night before. Peace. I was not destined to have it, and I would never change.

Church confronted me outside one of the houses as I walked back out and cautioned me away from burning homes of those who had not harmed me. The conversation was short, but he was smart. He'd figured out what I was up to remarkably quickly. He reminded me that for a seed to grow, there had to be one left. He was a smart kid, so I spared him any more talk and walked back to the safe house alone. I needed an Exit.

- True to what I have wrought, when I was alone they were willing to come out behind the vehicle line. Well, Pom and Tinker were anyway. People I was responsible for damaging, people I could have saved grief by saying 'No' or attacking my own kin. Something which I could not do under any circumstances. One of the explosive women joined them when I taunted them for not having spine to shoot a man without armor. That they were too scared to stand against me unless they were many and I was handicapped. I worked their anger against me just as much as I did the CHOTA against them.

I got to the Doctor with one of my taunts. For a moment, he was uncertain he was actually capable of doing things alone and fending for himself. He tried to send those supporting him back, tried to take me on himself, but they wouldn't let him. They attacked me together and the Doctor's bullet was the final shot to send me to the Cloner.

- I don't know how long I was down there, my body feeling like it was on fire from the not quite complete rebuilding of my body. Looks like the meat lockers were low and in need of replenishment. I'd have to go find somewhere else later to get a proper and complete cloning done. Soon enough, my Family was standing around me. Panther, Mohawk, MJ and even Jellybeans. I could almost call them Officers if they were an army and not just a pack of CHOTA wondering what was on my mind. Others came in but I was having trouble focusing, my mind trying to catch up. Doves voice, I think. Someone else I haven't named yet.

Panther said something about First Blood. Mohawk named a target. Combat Protocols were activated across the Children and weapons were loaded as they poured out of the Cloner to take revenge for their fallen leader.

- Ten minutes. Fifteen. I got up and was leaning against the rails that bordered the computer bank from the pods in every cloner twenty minutes later when Tinker's body staggered out of a pod and he dropped to his knees, vomiting incomplete fluids. Not every clone takes well to the process, especially since LifeNet still hasn't properly stabilized from its damage and corruption over the centuries. Five minutes later, the explody woman stumbled out and was having similar issues with being alive again.

I admit I felt some sense of smugness and pride on seeing them suffering Cloner Sickness, but that sensation subsided quickly when the Pods went into overdrive and spat out not only Townies but my invasion force as well. I knew what was going on even before they spat the name of the clan, having seen it too many times before; Heretics.

It was inevitable really. They are primarily comprised of Enforcers and Light Bearers, hellbent on stamping out the chaos that the CHOTA bring and trying to rebuild civilization. It was only a matter of time before news spread about the large movement of Combat Flagged CHOTA attacking a normally peaceful township, and the Enforcers mobilized their best forces to supress it and reduce the amount of damage. They were not a clan I could taint, though I had my contacts within even their forces. They were by far ready for war and put down every single combatant in the township and kept them down until I broadcasted the Retreat order.

I caught Panther's attention just before I made my exit and told him to stay safe. Told everyone to scatter to the wind and hide for a while. I keyed up Bankers Hole on the terminal beside me while the cloner was full of angry people spitting their ideals of revenge or taunts or whatever all else they said to each other. My corpse went back into the meat tank and I was riding Dire Kyotan south as fast as we could go before people even realized I was gone, Fixer's delivered package now slung against my back, activating the signal jammer just after passing Tannerfield.



I am taking a page from Skirtboy's book and hiding in land I know and understand. I am hunting for that which will not come. I seek the End.

I seek the Browncoats.

Omega Three.

Comments

Aerinn's picture

((Wow.  Just wow.  Ardenn is one of the most rounded characters out there.  Emotional depth, complex motivations, and a gorgeously unhinged mind...  This is a real window into the chaos behind the chaos.  Love it.))

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Ardenn's picture

(( thank you for the comment. I couldnt think of anything rationally witty to reply with. Ardenn is a loon because of all the people he's ever RPed with and have left imprints on his personality. Whatever game I move on to, all the people he's interacted with, both love and hate, will leave a permenant mark on his charactership. I have to thank everyone whos ever RPed with Ardenn to help him keep growing. ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

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“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

( Ardenn has to be the best enemy I've ever had in any situation. From the first time he and dorado met, to the plague, to all that's happend after, I was seriously astounded and suprised ooc on many levels. Ardenn forced Dorado to toughen up. No matter how the Doc turns out, it'll be because of Ardenns interactions with him. Well played sir! )

Canni Belle's picture

(( His answer to Canni's question and the reason for his bluntness I feel was perhaps one of the best shows of parental skills he's had with her. There is no "wait till she is mature enough to understand" for the waif.

There are things she is going to have to learn even if full comprehension isn't there and never will be. 

 

Thank you Ard for another gripping write up, and simply being you.))

One minute your calm, the next your shooting someone in the face, then your doing your chickendance. If that is not chaos I dont know what is - Aiid

Ardenn's picture

(( KISSYFACE EVOLUTION! ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

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“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

Zach Zero Chance's picture

((  Zach for one is no longer out to get Ard for this.  In fact I am strongly considering publically offering amnesty to everyone involved- Gotta talk to the clan about that.  Ard in reality only pointed out to Hope Springs how we had become too isolationist for our own good.  I am to blame for it as I allowed the seeds to be planted on my watch.  I for one was all for letting ISMC take over the Tavern.  Unfortunately there were persons on the town council at that time that were vociferously opposed to that and I let them win out.  We have sadly turned away everyone who has extended a hand to us and now we are paying the piper for it.  There were too many people in HS who wanted HS to be a perfect little utopia where nothing unpleasant ever came to pass.  Unfortunately that is role-playing in a vacuum and its pretty damn boring.  Conflict, sad as it is to say, is the heart of human interaction.  If there is no conflict, there is no action.  Not surprisingly all of those persons have since gotten bored and left the game.  While not official yet, I am probably going to be taking the reins of Hope Springs up again and if so I'm going to extend an olive branch to more than a few people.  I'm still not up to speed on everything that has happened, in fact I would appreciate it greatly if everyone who has a story to tell would send me an email (offline since I have more time to read them outside of the game than I do in game - if you can't email me through this site let me know and I'll post my email addy)   I would especially like to hear from Marcus and Robert as I haven't gotten to speak to them to know just what the heck is going on.  I'de like to see what we can all do to bring the RP community together once again.  I am concerned about how we all seem to be breaking up into mini-clans again.  In doing so we run the risk of all of us burning out for a lack of anyone to RP with.  We need to centralize RP again so that we aren't all off in our own little worlds.  If it means packing up all of HS and moving it somewhere else so that we will be around other RP'ers I might just have to do it.  The Barrett's could always cancel our lease.   I am certain that if we all talked about it we could find both a location and a role for each clan to take on that would allow us all to RP together and at least OOC'ly get along ))

 


 


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Ardenn's picture


(( I will give you all the respect I can muster, Zero, despide not having a chance to really talk to you much before or experince Hope Springs under your leadership. The township has been a facinating location to roleplay over the months through its high and low points, just as Flagstaff has had its moments, or Embry. The physical location itself is awesome, but its always the people that make the world around us rather than the NPCs or rendered frames.

I appreciate the Olive Branch, but for the time being, I am going to ask you keep it in reserve. There are many who have solid character reasons to go after others, and the consequences of their actions were at least on the basic level understood by those that joined Ardenn's side. How this plays out should go out to the people we watch over rather than either of us calling it off right now.

Let them kick the crap out of me and get the stress out first. Merry christmas. ;) ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

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“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

Zach Zero Chance's picture

(( I don't want to interfere with the RP that this generates for certain and while Zach may IC'ly offer amnesty, I don't expect just everyone to accept it IC'ly.   I'm thrilled that 'something' is going on.  I actually expect to see a considerable bit of IC 'pissing and moaning' when Zach suggests amnesty.  It will be up to him to convince people that this is the best course of action.


It seems however to me that an OOC animosity toward HS has been growing and I want to speak to those involved OOC and find out where the roots lie and start a process of healing these greivances.  HS was never intended to be an isolationist community and I don't want it to become one- I have always considered us the FE equivalent of a 'Crafters' Guild' - A place for chars who were less interested in the Adventure side of the game world and never intended to shut those who are out.  Like a crafters guild, I would rather see us catering to the needs of the adventurous types either by supplying gear or just a place for them to get piss drunk than to see us shut off and doing our own little thing.  ))

 


 


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Ardenn's picture

(( Cant say anything on the OOC front, not being in the clan. You folks have largely been fair save for a few examples of 'Huh?' now and then (Sorry guys, it took me a while to realize you actually acknowledge the NPCs lol). On the other hand, Flagstaff took some hits as an RP center and when the bigger parties vanished, people started going to HS and the Rack more. I suppose it was kind of inevitable some people would rub each other the wrong way. ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

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“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

Geistig's picture

[I'm hoping we can all get along, part of why I started ERT is because 1 there isn't anyone doing it, and 2 because I wanted to set up a neutral clan that can help work things like this out on IC or OOC level.

That is if folks are down with bringing in mediation/negotiation for this kind of thing.

]


Factionless and loving it.

Aerinn's picture

((I can see SF using your services as soon as we've figured out what you are IC. The Geistig/Cymon working together thing has us scratching our heads :P))

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Geistig's picture

[ If the town wants an dispatch outpost we'd be happy to set one up, we do need more members to keep it staffed but G can always keep it in rotation. ]


Factionless and loving it.

Cymon's picture

(( All About Balance :) ))

"A last name implies a heritage, as a Beta, my only parent is Mother invention"

Cymon's head explodes violently (X.X)**~

Kiako Lalene's picture

(( Woot I get a nickname! It was a good read. Always nice to see peoples views on RP events. ))

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(A good write up Ardenn.  And Aerinn is right.. you write a very complex and deep character.  One that we have all gotten to know a bit here in FERP.  I find myself disturbed and symathetic towards Ardeen at the same time.  I have been pondering what to do with him should we get our hands on him for days now.  And i can see Zach and I need to have a good chat about things.  I too have no desire for vilgilante justice here.  But what do we do with a clone like you?  Your power is your words.  You do not stand on our doorstep and shout insults at us.  You whisper in the ears of those around us.. quiet, polite, almost respectful. I have thought.. do we take his collar?  As long as you can clone, you will always be here.  Doing what you do.  Smiling at us and talking of treaties and peace.. while planning sinister doings at the same time.   The problem is.. the fear of losing you as a player.  Because you are a very fine one indeed.  Should we kill Ardenn off to answer for his crimes.. I am conerned you would simply walk away.  At that i do not want in the least.  And killing Ardenn would simply leave a bad taste in c5's mouth.  Perhaps he can rehabilitated.. but c5 would have to learn icly of his deep inset problems to begin with.  And somehow i do not see him opening up to her or really leaving behind his lifestyle.  We will have to see how this all plays out I guess. )

Ardenn's picture

(( Part of what makes Ardenn so Ardenn is that the Journals are only recaps of things that concern him personally. There is WAY more detail and complexity to him when ya actually RP with him, heh. Getting him to open up is rediculously easy, though. Just takes a bit of observastion and leading questions.

Tribal Blood actually came up with an interesting challenging punishment a while back when Ardenn was tormenting Leeloo, they cut out his tongue because he kept pushing them to go through with their threats instead of throwing around petty words all the time. He has absloutly zero respect for someone who says something and refuses to back it up. However he was also basically friends with everybody at the time and I didnt go 24 hours before someone helped him re-clone.

Removing his collar could have some interesting ramifcations, largely because it would totally detach him from his Master's ability to give him orders. On the other hand, we'd have to consider which version of the Lore to go with regarding collar removal. I've seen multiple sources dictate diffrent reactions to what happens when a collar is removed. From what I've generally gathered, you'd have to delete his profile from LifeNet to actually permadeath him, Collars just generate a new clone when they are deactivated, sans whatever memories the clone developed while collarless.

Dont worry so much about chasing me off, I have three other characters, and I RP as a way of life when I'm in MMOs. :p

PS; Put up a suggestion Box in the HS bar and ask people to suggest ideas for how to punish him? XD I'm sure Henerkin can think of a few. ;) ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

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“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

henerkin's picture

((I was thinking about setting his Blight Wolf on fire, maybe with him on it))

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Simple Mechanic... For real this time.
Retired: Gunrunner, Traveler, Biker.

Ardenn's picture

(( I am open toideas... If you can find me. ;) My PVP flag has been up for a couple days to help people out. If you can shoot me down, I wont hit the cloner and I'll count it as a capture. ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

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“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

henerkin's picture

((

 

"XD I'm sure Henerkin can think of a few. ;) ))"

 

lol!  Why do you know my character that much, its no fun anymore :P

 

))

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Simple Mechanic... For real this time.
Retired: Gunrunner, Traveler, Biker.

Ardenn's picture

(( I'm an observant bastard, you introduced yourself to Ardenn as an Asassin, and I've been focused on watching you for every Ride I've attended. :P How could I not have a general idea that you'd find some imaginitive way to kick my ass? XD ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

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“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

(yes.. I guess what i am trying to get around is violence begetting more violence.. begeting more violence.   This is supposed to be a quiet town for refugees.. not a warzone.  And yes.. the whole town is our community npc's and all.  They are our neighbors and friends as we have homes and jobs around them.  So if you shoot my bartender.. expect an ic reacton to it.  At the same time i understand how unusal that is in the rp community.  The npc's rarely enter into our rp and are something of a background noise.)

Ardenn's picture

(( Problem I see with having a peaceful town is the genre and environment. If everyone isn't on the same page about what Hope Springs stands for, its REALLY easy to take some peoples actions and activities completely out of context In Character. I don't think I was ever actually told NOT to attack Hope Springs in any shape or form, IC or OOC. Naturally I assumed from their repeated visits that there was something going on between HS and the ISMC, but someone just walking in to town for the first time and seeing a fight could naturally come to assume that such things are normal and a general representation for whats acceptable.

Based on the RP that was happening at the time as well as Carol's decision to reject the offered pact made Ardenn assume that HS had lost all its backing and support for peace through the high hostility the characters had been presenting at the time. Peace has a lot more weight to it when all the clans agree not to kick each others asses in said area, like how people can mingle comfortably at The Rack most the time. RP's been rocky for everyone though, both with the loss of some clans, forming of new clans and the F2P change over. I figure all things will settle in time, its just giving that little garden time to grow and encouraging it day by day that is the hard part. So many people want to rush rush rush the story without remembering it takes a lot to make something really fundamentally solid to stand on. ))

Current Status; Fully Operational, Slightly Cheesy

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“I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends”

Zach Zero Chance's picture

(( Yep one thing I finally allowed to soak in is how pointless it is to kill clones, heck in many ways you are just helping them out.   They get a brand new body that isn't all scarred up and worn out.  Though it has crossed my mind that you could give them so much trauma in dying that they were afraid to let it happen again.  Still, that isn't Zach's style and it solves nothing.  Best ways are far more subtle, to use the Biblical phrase 'to heap coals upon their heads.'   Zach unfortunately doesn't know about all of the behind the scenes stuff that went on or he would be much more concerned about Ard than just the fear of the man.  If he ever begins to untangle the web of lies and spies then he will become truely concerned.  The fate of the spies would likely be far worse than anything reserved for Ard.  ))

 


 


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Robert Angus's picture

(( the phylosophy I have been tellin people,  "Dieing is easy for a clone, Living thet tis the hard part"   Make the clone live with contsant remiders of his mistakes. Bring him in within an inch of death then let him live))



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