NationStates Jolt Archive

Twist. Pop. Another of those wretched vile was opened, and another of those wretched pills were dropped into her open hand with a small shake. A grimace as she looked to her palm, a sudden disgust flowing into her. Almost as if mocking herself, she tossed the vile to her side haphazardly, a smug grin replacing an irate mood as the pills went flying about and scattered over the floor. Her eyes narrowed as she moved the tablet about in her hand, rolling it between her forefinger and thumb. In a soft voice, she spoke to it.

"And what have you done for me lately, besides keep me alive, with the aid of the dozens of other medications I take daily..."

She glanced over to the end-table off her side, and the literally hundreds of pharmaceuticals littering it in a mess of orange vile and white paper packets. Her sight locked back onto her company.

"What have you done for me, besides that. More so, what have you done for Fod, besides that."

She pursed her lips in a moment of thought, engrossed with the pill.

"Are you the one who kept all calm whilst the Ministry was burning? No, but I am the one who took the fall when Security in the Complex was questioned. So then surely you are who United the Federation under the Constitution, correct? Ah, but 'twas I who came into question when the Clover Rebellion was prompted by... Order."

A nerve twitched, a snapping heard. Her gaze deviated to the window off to her left. It was raining once more, the sky obscured by heavy bellows of black which roiled and frothed as if a sorcerers cauldron, rain pelting the glass in sheets clattering as if horses charging forth through the cobblestone alleys below. A roar of thunder, as if lions lived in the clouds, shook her chambers. The storm was indeed a fierce one today, the veracity calming, reminiscent of Epsilonia.

"Surely you must have done something, haven't you? Are you who allied us with the Communist International? Are you who granted the People all the Liberties of Life? Are you who spurred the Fodian Economy to flourish? Are you who brought us from Epsilonia? Are you who brought Order to the Federation?" Her jaw clenched.

"I think not. Yet all I receive is... Nothing. Nothing except more of... You. And what do you bring me? Nothing. I can't even walk any longer because of you. So I am wrong to say you bring me nothing, for you bring me humiliation."

A pause as the pill was turned over once more. She dug her shoulders back into the high pillows supporting her. That was what her bedding consisted of, pillows, and dozens of them. Silken Persian pillows arranged in a large nest against the back wall, soft, ornately embroidered in threads of vivid colors. Her Chambers were Magnificent. It was after all, The Imperial Suite. Dark, hardwood, floors provided a level ground. Lightly colored marble walls border the room which measure up to the cathedral ceiling above. On opposite sides were set windows, eating up almost the entire wall, framed in iron which weaves and traces randomly through the glass in no less beautiful patterns. One intricately designed chandelier hangs, lighting all but the far corners of the Suite, glistening in a frosted luminescence. Yet for the seemingly rich tastes shown, it was absent of any furnishings besides the nest of pillows. True, there was the small table, but that was buried beneath the Mass of Medications.

The comfort was unbearable, and shred her pride to nothing by imposing the image of an invalid onto herself. She will see to it she has the final say. A pillow was thrown into the pile of Welfare. The Mistress, the Prime Minister, then called for an Aide in the only way deemed appropriate.

She screamed.

"You bitch... You're such a fucking bitch- You fucking- Troglodyte-"

"Hush, Nokona."

Now joining her Mother in the chambers, was Yishi's daughter, Nokona. The Mistress and the Sun, as it was known in Hesphaestus. The Sun had crumpled by her Mothers side, collapsing into the nest of pillows. The Mother ran her fingers through her sobbing Daughters hair, eyes closed as she stifled the cursing with a finger placed to her Child's lips. The outright Hell that had rampaged in this room moments before, was dissolved and replaced by a Loving silence between Mother and Daughter. An unspoken understanding had been reached in that lone hour; Hardly enough time to recount a lifetime one might say. The steady beat of the Rain against the giant Windows, interrupted by the occasional clap of thunder, resounded heavily. The lights had been extinguished, and only the random lightning strike would throw vision into focus.

"I must say... You took it better than how you took Utobi."

The sobbing stopped momentarily, just for a moment, but continued on no less.

"And the Citisen has the duty to determine their own fate. Whether is be to Death, or to New Life, the Citisen is to choose." Her hand to grasp her Child's chin gently, and lift as to see The Sun. "Oiseau Arch'Juscte Fod, Analects of Fodian Mo'Dracun, Twenty Twenty-One."

"I know my Analects..." She brushed away her Mothers hand, and stifled her outbursts. "And the Citisen is to take into account the thought of those closest to them-"

"-Yet the Citisen has final say over the actions of themselves. Modian Fou, Thirty-Five Six."

Even if it was against what was preached, one would try and twist the Analects to suit themselves. 'Twas a Mockery of the Analects themselves when this was done, much like how past Catholics twisted the Bible to suit their needs, yet when a Fate of this magnitude has been Traced... One often tends to forget Technicalities.

"For shame Nokona, you know of all people I am not one to test with the Analects-

"Fucking bitch-" The Sun had flared into another rage, snaring a pillow and jumping to her feet to spin and throw it to the Window, it fading away into the dark before a lightening strike outlined it frozen in midair, fading away instantly just as a faint "Poff" was heard as it bounced onto the floor. "Don't lecture me. Don't you dare."

"I apologise..." The Mistress slanted her eyes towards the floor.

The Sun stood stock still. "You never apologise."

"Hence... How serious I am. The Sun, you are what my Life revolves around. My Daughter, I care only for your well being. Nokona, Minister of Security, I ask of you to Telegram Death."

Sound seemed to disappear. Nokona mouthed a phrase.

Euthanasia order Seven Zero One Eight Eight Two Nine Four.

Tagoo, for some weird reading... Very interesting...

The Sun sat stiffly in the dark, the room now hushed and pitch. 'Twas a different locale, yet the air was the same. She sat in a heavy armchair, a rich black leather, stuffed firmly which was set behind a long wooden table, dark and glossy, of a deep wood. High maintenance tastes these people had. A single spotlight illuminated The Sun, with her hands folded politely on the table top, whom was straight and erect as she eyed down the camera a dozen feet in front of her. Two more spotlights clicked, and the room came more clearly to view.

Another was casually curled in one other chair, opposite the table and just to the side of the camera. This one was relatively at ease, shadowed just from the lights reach. The anonymous Reporter. And then they spoke.

"Minister, welcome to IRC Twenty-Two Twelve. You have the floor."

"Good evening, Citizens of the Federation."

Her jaw was clenched tightly, and her voice hoarse. A deep breath in to settle herself, closing darkened eyes for just a moment, and she began her Address.

"This is The Minister of Security, Nokona Sikitaki, of The General Fodian Cabinet. I am who shall be Addressing you tonight on an issue, that will end the Fodian Federation. I speak to not only the Citizen of Fod, yet the World, for this is a dark hour into which we progress."

"Yishi Sikitaki, Prime Minister Yishi, has placed a request. This was that she be Euthanized." Eyes cast downwards to the heavy tabletop, hands clenching white knuckled as she rattled a bit at this statement. Her vision skipped around the darkened wood, as if she lost her speech within the grain. Jaw clenched once more and she stifled a tear, eyes jumping to meet the camera.

The reporter seemed not to care.

"Euthanasia order Seven Zero One Eight Eight Two Nine Four shall be executed at Zero Zero point Zero Universal Metric Time, this Sunday."

The Sun was fading. She was choking on her speech, tears having now traced minuscule streams once more to her jaw. Hands shook as she reached up to cup them over her mouth, a new wave of shock consuming her. She is after all, reading out her own Mothers Death Wish. Vision went blank and sound dissolved once more, thoughts becoming jumbled in an anarchic maelstrom. A single cough tore her back into reality, and she froze.

The reporter spoke.

"Hah. That invalid is finally being put down."

And The Sun went Super Nova. A growl, and hands where slammed down to the table, eyes raging with an inferno of passion locked onto the Reporter. She jumped to her feet, and knee was raised onto the top as she came to crawl onto it and mount completely in a blink, armchair upset. Heavy bangs hid her face as she bored holes into the wood with a stare of daggers, head tilted down, and tears began falling rhythmically. Staggered breathing was steadied, a whisper ushered to the one reporter that could barely be heard.

"The sad thing is, the entire Federation shares your view."

The Reporter though, seemed unphased, and seemed content in their niche of Anonymity. A small wave of the hand on their behalf, and the camera was cut. Light evaporated in a Click.

"You shouldn't have become so emotional-"

"Shut the fuck up! You're nothing but the flaming bitch that killed Nyx, Yishi! You deserve to-"

"Enough."

And the scene grew very grave. The Mistress was now in her wheelchair, the Sun accompanying her by side. Both had grown extremely tense in that passing comment, averting eye contact and occupying themselves with other insignificance's. They were on the Portico; A sprawling marble campus of steppes in shallow rises panning outwards, all marble, of a brilliant white with gray veins. Surrounding it on three sides was the Suite, much like the Atrium of a Roman Home, only a thousand fold larger. They were facing the open side, though, overlooking the sea.

A breeze played inland from the sound, the squall having settled a bit, which ruffled the Imperial Garb both were donned in. The Campus was deserted, as was Hesphaestus, and they were alone for a small while. Together.

"Nyx would-"

"I know very well what Nyx would do. But you know very well that I am not Nyx. No one could ever replace Nyx, Nokona."

"If she were so valuable she would not have been lost."

"Hold your tongue. You are still my Daughter, and you will never speak in such a way of Nyx."

"Nyx burned out. You're fading away."

"Nyx was killed, Nokona, by the Clover. She was killed-"

"Fucking, Serickin altuitia-"

"Epsilonia, Hah. The nerve."

Twitch. Nokona turned to face Yishi, and smirked. She then began to chuckle, softly, at some unseen irony emanating in this scene. A Cheshire grin, and shook her head solemnly, cracking out into a loud laugh. Lean near to Yishi, reaching to clutch her arm tightly, and all she could do was laugh.

"You see that cliff, Yishi?" Laughter vanished as she whispered ever so hushed, and ever so slowly. "Do you see that cliff? Do you see that sea? Can you smell the salt? Can you hear the waves?" She released her grip, and turned from her disgusted. A shake of the head, arms folded across her chest. A step away, and a pause. "It's right there after all."

The rain began once more, the storm moving in. Yishi tensed, and spoke as if someplace else.

"Send a message, Chikikara, to any that care of-"

"There's no one that cares. No one."

Thunder ricocheted through the clouds.

][ Any takers? It's cold posting all by my lonesome. ][

Wow. Amazing writing. I don't think I would want to even write after your posts. Great story. I like how it deals with ethics. I am taking ethics class right now for my nursing school and it deals with these issues. I will continue to read this, but I don't know how I could join. Keep it up though.

An umbrella was opened, and raised overhead as the rain continued. It was much lighter than before, but rain no less. No one appreciated getting wet. As the waves frothed below, Mother and Daughter embraced one another, sobbing together in grief. Not grief alone for the life of the Mother, for that had been long forgotten, but in grief for the Nation. Silent tears were streaming from both.

"I've sent a message to Crsyindom... Renemi will be joining us for dinner."

"You know she won't come..."

"Never the less. We'll eat wonderfully tonight." And the Sun smiled. "You might think that no one cares... But Nyx would have." The Sun was an Anarchic Being. Flaring and throwing off cosmic heat, radiance pluming in awe inspiring cascades, the pure intensity overhwelming at times as it reacted in on itself consuming all. Yet beautiful in that it could bring light to ones life, in that it could cast warmth into your life, in that it can bring that one thing. Life. Deadly, Beautiful, and Chaotic. "We will have company tonight, even if it's a lone Beggar from Vineyard. There's someone that cares for you Mother." Twitch. "Unfortunately you're too near sighted to see the obvious."

Solar Flare. Shame, The Mistress was blind. The Aurora would have been spectacular.

Lucille Renemi flocked her copper hair, whisking it into a beehive bun. Her olive eyes were tinted with the same redness as her hair, dark lines billowing from her eyes. Quickly, she produced a tissue, and wiped the smudged make up from beneath her eyes. Clutching the ivory brooch that nestled above her busom, she briskly turned away from the mirror and in her haste, knocked a letter from the dresser.

You are cordially invited..

"Anne, dear, are you ready?" Her voice strained as she kneeled to grasp the invitation from the floor.

"Minister, I can't find a thing to wear!"

Lucille let out an aggravated groan and snatched a formal golden gown from her open closet, one identical to her own. She stepped out to the hall, turned to Anne's room, threw it at her and shut the door.

Minutes later, Anne DeLucche appeared from the doorway, clad in the dress and a diaphanous veil. Her dark hair was collected in the same hairstyle as Lucille's, her large, velvet eyes showing the same signs of weeping as Lucille's had.

"Do not cry," Lucille cooed. "Death is a celebration, no?"

"Not when it is the wishes of a desperate Minister who has given up!" Anne cried, her voice choked. Her eyes fluttered and she sniffed sharply. "I am sorry, Minister. I just..why would Yishi wish such a passing? One with such indignity and shame? Was it that long ago we were partying in that grand hall?"

"I cannot answer you, Anne. We must face this with bravery, as Nokona will. It is what Yishi will want." Lucille smiled sadly. "Shall we go?"

Anne nodded.

Hours Later

Anne and Lucille made their final adjustments to make themselves presentable, straightening their dresses and fooling with their hair.

"Remember, no weeping-"

"-crying, sighing-"

"and signs of pity or sadness."

Anne smiled at Lucille and patted her head. 15 years her senior, Anne had always felt responsible for Lucille, even when the woman was growing up with her in the Caroccia household (Lucille's home and maiden name).

With a sigh, Lucille leaned forward and pawed at the brass knocker seated in the center of the Prime Minister's residence's door.

"What the fuck..."

Click, Snap, Latch. Unlocked! Side entrance. Nokona grabbed hold of the handle, and whisked the door open. She narrowed her eyes and glanced back and forth between the two, before slamming the door shut on them. Look to the left, look to the right, deep breath in, deep breath out. Click, and the door was opened again. A tilt back of her head, and she spat at their feet.

"Why are you pawing at our door knocker? Are you some kind of fucking cat? The hell, you lunatic. It's not a scratching post." A step outside to join the pair, pulling the door closed behind her. Turn on heel, and she faced opposite of them. "You use it like this." She reached out, wrapped her fingers around the knocker, and tapped it lightly against the door. "Morons. Pawing at the door like fucking cats.. I'm in the company of idiots."

Step forward, push open of the door, and took a few steps inside before halting. Arms went to embrace herself as a chill breeze flit about. "Sorry. You'll get comfortable here though.. The Suite is very Romanesque.. You're Italian, aren't you?" Click of the heel as she continued on her way.

If Lucille or Anne were taken aback by Nokona's raving, they did not show it. Instead, Lucille forced a smile, and rougly said "Nice to see you again, Nokona." Anne bowed her head.

"Yes, we are Italian. And I adore the decor. I've tried to mimic Roman architecture back at Capitale Rosa, Cosenza Platform, but it was never as good as this," Lucille smiled through her eyes, bunched her shoulders together, and huffed. Both sauntered behind Nokona, drinking in the presentation.

You are the Sun you fool.. Why have you allowed those so tainted into your domain... The poison will stain if the Sun does not act...

Is correct. They do not deserve to bask in your rays...

Slay them all... Slay the unpure... Slaughter... Butcher...

Twitch. The sky was speaking again.

"Lucille, Anne, there won't be a dinner tonight. I've decided against it, and my Mother wishes to commit the act as soon as she can... She wishes to say goodbye to you though, Lucille. The Grand Hall opens out into the Portico up ahead. The Mistress is engrossed with the sound.. So don't sneak up on her."

Turn on heel to face the two who have been following her. A nod to Lucille and a gesture behind her, and then she looked to Anne. Lucille could no have been as Evil as the Others say. She was after all, Epsilonia, and the Mistress' closest friend. Anne though... Was surely the Evil. Eye glassed over as they locked on Anne, a grin twitching.

Yes... Yes... The Evil... Cleanse the Evil...

Slaughter, slaughter, slaughter!

Remove those who are unworthy! Irradicate all from Hesphaestus, and not just the Unclean!

Yes!

Yes!

"Yes.." Muttered in a whisper. "Anne dear, could you come with me? There are legal matters I would like to go over."

Anne spared a look to Lucille ("Should I? What if? She's not entirely sane, do you will it? What if?"), a transient veil of discomfort. Lucille, being the all-to- ("Just go, you'll be fine, be strong for Nokona. She needs you, Yishi needs you" -trusting person she was, nodded. Anne masked one last disheveled ribbon with lingered congeniality and clicked ahead to Nokona, one hand frantically stroking the hem of her gilded dress, the other, pacing its fingers under her frock of black tresses.

Lucille stared blankly to watch them go, prolonging the moment when she would lay eyes on Yishi and burst into- No, she couldn't do that. Death was a celebration. It was nothing like the lores of poets and amber tears of widows. She knew. Somehow, she knew.

In nome del mio Padre

Her necklace..it was the one she wore at her inauguration. Her brother, Alberto, was there. She remembered him laughing about some joke her other brother, Bruno, was telling. He (Bruno, or was it Alberto?) caught her eye and raised a glass to her, a silent toast to the completion of one ruling family. Behind him was a woman- no, it was Yishi. She was smiling, too, and waving, illuminated.

..e la luce del mio Christ

She remembered her gloved hands, and the dress! Lucille had worn this dress at the banquet at Chatau De' Alau, those long years ago. Yishi was there, Nokona. She remembered the wild antics of mother and daughter, grinning. Even if Yishi was confined to her wheelchair, she was still the life of the party. Even if she was ill to her bones, she always came back. Even if-

And then it hit her. Yishi wasn't coming back.


Verremo a contatto di ancora.

"Yishi?"

Amen.

"I've always despised the ocean, Renemi."

It echoed outside, and the click of the heel against stone was not something soft. As soon as Renemi had taken her first step unto the Portico, she was announced. The sky was clear as crystal now, a canvas of periwinkle stretching down to the earth and to the sea in an all consuming fervor. It was very quiet as well, the wind having gone and leaving a warm air. She had just began to speak when Lucille had come to her side, as she had grown quite weak in the passing day or so. She was lethargic and pale, a porclean doll the epitome of fragile set delicately into her seat, overlooking the cliffs. Her voice was a shallow whisper, breathing deeply and heavily. That one sentence alone had slain her. Although she could surely live without anything to aid her, it was a burdensome.

She turned her head slowly to see her company, and the corners of her lips crinkled in a smile. Tired, her age was showing through, wrinkles growing deep around the eyes. She reached out her hand for Lucille.

"Thank you for being here."

"But it is life, as air is to life to us."

She smiled sadly, whisping away a tendril of red hair to mask whiping away a stray tear. Her watering eyes soon met the expanse of sea before her, echoing in its recesses the cries of seagulls and sporadic splashes of fish not picked off by the birds. Lucille found by looking at this display of calm water and cliff, she did not have to glance upon her friend and thus be brought to tears. Surely, she could not so much as look at Yishi without breaking. It was a disgrace to go out this way, Lucille knew, but there was nothing else to be down about it.

"Yishi, I'll always be here."

Slowly, she clasped her hand in Yishi's and let her eyes drift down to her friend's face.

"Why can't you be?"

"Your touch warms the heart. Your words... Drive an icepick through my head, decasia de bourgeoisie."

Clench.

"When the Republic was young... It was far from the Nation it is today. Hell, the Republic has just surfaced as anything that might even put a dent into this realm. As insignificant as we might be now, I assure you this will not be the case after I leave."

She released her grasp, and took her had back, folding them together in her lap.

"I have been nothing more than a specter, haunting the Fodian Ideal, and playing only in the under workings of this Nation. I have done nothing but build the Holy Republic a foundation of granite on which to stand, nothing more but cleanse the Hierarchy, and nothing more but bring peace to the Fodian Ideal."

"Nothing more, nothing less. They are neither demeaning, nor endearing. I was only to conduct the Prologue of what is to come in the future. The thing that scares me though, is that the future will be nothing as the past had predicted. The... Empire, needs to change. There is nothing worse than a static entity, whose potential is as great as... The Sun."

She looked out over the sea for a long time after that last statement. A seagull caw was heard accompanied by a splash, and a blur of white struck up from below and into the sky. The breeze skipped through the Portico once more.

"I was nothing to the Ideal. Nothing."

"You list yourself the great things you have accomplished, yet do not find it within yourself to give the respect you deserve?"

Lucille followed Yishi's eyes out to sea.

"Take him for example. The sea. He is the life, the means, and the nuturing busom to his citizens. Without him, they could not survive. But does he receive credit for this? No. Only when he is brought to great destruction at tide by forces higher than him and out of his control do we hear of his deeds. Character is built by bad choices and good recovery, Yishi. To some, the sea is nothing more than weekly floods. But to them, Yishi, to them it is life."

"You are the life of Fodmodmadtol, just as sure as I am standing here. A day will come to pass when we are not here, and whether that day is of mourning or of jubilation on my behalf I cannot tell. It will be mourning on your day, Yishi. It will be mourning. Ci sarà la tristezza quel giorno."

Lucille grimaced ever so slightly, avoiding and procrastinating the mention of Yishi's approaching death, as if she felt by prolonging this acceptance, Yishi would live. Gently, she clutched Yishi's hand and traced its contours.

"There is power here, neglected, overlooked. Strength. I do not see the same in Nokona. You worry of her?"

"Nokona..." Hand closed and another placed on top, to hold Lucilles hand gentely.

"I don't believe you've ever known Nyx. The Juscte of the East Theocracy. I was the Papacy of the Defence back then, Nyx being the sole ruler of the Ideal. Knew her ever so well I have... She's dead now, circa the Clover Rebellion. Same strike which crippled me."

She spoke in a very calm demeaner, eerily steady regarding the topic at hand. She smiled a knowing smile, content, and the thought crossed her mind of when she would see Nyx again.

"Nyx had a daughter, Lucille."

"The True Dynasty shall rise by order of the Sun. The Sun which shall combust from the last Juscte of the light, the last ever present order, the last ever present peace. The Sun will rise from the East, yet the great shadow of the West shall encroach father still unto the kingdom of the Sun. The battle between the Sun and the Sky will tear into life itself, and the Heavens shall rain fire down upon this realm."

"Soothsayer, Analects, Fourteen. She has been entitled to the Throne of the Empire since birth. Nokona, is the daughter of Nyx."



Don't be so sure of that fact, Yishi. Don't be so sure.

"So, she's been born to her title. And that prophecy..surely means ill for Fodmodmadtol. Can you leave it now, when it may need you most? Forgive me for saying so, but I cannot trust Nokona, though however much I try. It's just..intuizione..intuition. Ci sono alcune cose che sono ed alcuna che faccia...there are some things that are, and some that make."

Lucille paused, breathing deeply. Strangely, she found it hard to breath in Yishi's presence, whether it was the overwhelming sadness Yishi coerced or just respect, she could not tell. Her eyes once again danced around the room, outlining latticed sunspots and filtered, dusty specks that hovered so carefree in the air. For some reason, this brought a smile to her face.

"How will Fodmodmadtol stand without its foundation? How will Nokona reign, Yishi?"

Butcher. Maim. Butcher. Slaughter.

Kill kill kill...

Clear the Infidelity from your realm!

Twitch. Nokona had led Anne randomly through the Villa, changing her mind every other second on where to go. Timidly she sneaked about through the corridors, as if unsure as to where she was. After a while, her objectives of finding someplace to rest were just forgotten, and she had wandered errantly every which way. At this point, she led Anne and herself into her Mother's room. A glance about as the realization of her location dawned on her, and a startled gasp as the clicking of her heel ceased. A few rapid blinks, she settled herself, and swiveled to face Anne clasping her hands together.

An ashen expression was painted across her face, a contrary smile forced. Her voice was peaked as she spoke, grated and hoarse. "Anne, dear. Do you mind if we speak in here? There are legal matters to take care of."

The composition of this room would hint at otherwise. Twitch.

As Anne had followed Nokona blindly through the unfamiliar lair Fod's government heads on autopilot, the occasional nervous glance and dubious thought had passed through her. "If Lucille trusts her.." she consoled herself bitterly, wishing to be back with her Minister and Yishi. Though she had not known Yishi terribly personally, she still felt more comfortable around her. Lucille had said it herself on the plane ride over. "We must be there for her..". Anne brushed the flitting memory from her worried mind.

Anne absorbed a little of what Nokona had said, something about legal matters. It didn't matter, however, her mind was too hyped up about Yishi and Lucille to care about anything else. It was how she always was. She stepped inside complacently, trying her best to ameliorate her situation by acquiescing Nokona.

"What better than a comfortable setting?" She smiled (well, grimaced) through gritted teeth.

Smile smile smile. All smiles. All pleasant. "Thank you for being here, Anne. Thank you." She nodded and turned away, walking slowly towards the Pillows.

No candles were lit, but light streamed proudly through the gigantic windows, casting the intricate and winding pattern of the frame onto the floor. It was a spectacle, the weaving and coiling cords of black writhing along the floor in death throws, silent and still. Obscuring the occupants into a jigsaw of shadow and light, it created a surreal and detached mood, one as if this was another world in which they traversed.

Nokona halted. Tangled in a web of shadow, emotions obscured and conveyed inaccurately, movement itself seemed an alternate mechanic than custom. The light plays tricks on one eyes, it is said. Yet when one is the light, or The Sun, you can use the light along with the dark to manipulate any you wished. Was it not the Dawn that woke all? Yet, was it not Dusk that cast all into sleep? The night consumes all deeper into an unconscious Hell or Heaven farther. The day brings all to realize either one in life. The sheer power that Light can hold is startling when one thinks of it deeply, is it not? The power of Light can only be naturally harvested by one source though, correct?

The Sun.

"Paranoia, Anne. Paranoia is the one thing that drove the Administration. Being as frightened as they are, they would not entertain the idea of taking risks. Ever." She came to her knees as the pillows. "Tell me, Anne. What is Paranoia?" A hand reached out for a pillow, delicately picking off the nearest, and slowly bringing it to latch onto. She dug in her fingers.

"Well that's an easy enough question. Paranoia..it's when you think everyone's out to get you, no?" Anne chose her words carefully, aerobically slipping away from technical, elaborate, burdened explanations she thought would through Nokona into a frenzy. No, no, none of that. Keep it short. Concise. To the point. That way you can get out faster. Yes.

"It's quite common to find yourself scared in a world of business, afraid to take risks, afraid to fail. You could end up-" Careful. "-wishing you had taken them, though, they make you and break you."

She delicately folded her hands in her lap and flashed a thin-lipped grin at her companion, trying her best to reproach herself from observing Nokona's..odd..habits. Her drawn out animation of movement.

Thump thump.

Foolish One... She knows you're up to something... Why do you hesitate. Why do you not strike. Why do you not smite the tainted. Why do you hesitate... Why do you not strike...

Get up get up get up! Kill kill! Slit her throat! Drain her blood! Get up! Kill! Move! Slit her throat! Drain her blood! Butcher them all! Butcher butcher butcher!

You are the Sun. She is nothing. Wipe her from the Cosmos.

"Shut up.."

Twitch. The pillow was clutched tight. Laughter echoed through her mind.

Telling us to be quiet?

The bitch will die!

You are not to order us.

"I shall-"

You shall not. You are no one- No one! You are nothing! You are ours!

Twitch. Nokona gasped, a hand flitting up to her temple. A whimper, and she leaned forward, jaw clenching. Eyes were closed tightly and she pushed her head into the mass of pillows before her, a tear falling from the corner of her eye. Rivets of teardrops began to fall, breathing quickly becoming erratic. Growl, she scrambled into the pillows and pushed her head into the soft textures. Another gasp, and her hands clutched at the back of her skull as she let out a cry.

"Stop it! Stop!"

Then kill...

The pain evaporated.

"Anne..."

Thought washed over her in a tidal surge, unable to decipher her own mind. The need to Kill. The urge for Blood. The want to Pain. Confusion consumed her being, and the simple mechanics of language evaded her even. No care was had for the life of the Strangers. There had never been.

She had mocked her.

I had mimiced her.

Herself had driven her.

There was one ambition beating within- Death.

"Anne... Help me..."

Nokona glanced around in front of her, then began picking through the pillows in a rush. A string of sentience dashed across thought. Thank the Sun for Paranoia. The Persian Pillows.

Anne, not quite knowing how to respond, stumbled forward stupidly and bent down to help Nokona pick up the pillows. It's what she thought she needed help with, and instinct amounted the same result. Despite herself, she found her mind racing, half Italian, half English, half gibberish. She was mortified and yet expected the outburst. It wasn't the first time she'd seen such a sight- wait, yes it was. Or was it? Her earliest memories were of the drunken stupors and fits of rage the Old Four..no..Cold Four. Was it winter that year? Yes, she remembered the low sun in midevening, cold, but defiant of its gossamer shreds of crimson and pale, pale yellow. Shrill, but silent bitter mornings, where the windows hinted where winter had unwrapped its lanky, spindly fingers, its crystal claw and wrangled. It was so quiet. All echoes. Echoes?

Anne oscillated her neck. She would ignore Nokona's rants, it's what she'd want if she were ever in Nokona's place. To be ignored. To not have any attention brought to.

"Nokona, dear, do you need anything? A glass of water, perhaps?"

Even after coming to her lengthy conclusion, she still found herself prattling on about other's needs.

Then reality hit her.

That's all she was ever good for, wasn't it? Fetching a drink of water? Touching up the gardens at Il Castello dei Giacinti? Disgust welled up inside her, like an angry, ugly welt about to burst.

"Water would fix you up real nice!"

It had come over, and had started scrambling through the pillows as well. It had started babbling in tongues about everything and nothing at the same time, incoherent whispers fleeting through the air. Torturous whispers of ill advised musings, swirling through the room in wisps of smoke that seared like a razors edge. It was further tainting her domain.

Nokona had then found it.

A soft silken pillow was resting directly in her sight, the brilliant luminescence of the sun showcasing this one separate from the others. Uneven stripes of yellow and black slashed across it in sharp and bold contrast. Tassels of black yarn hung loosely from the fringes, an ornate cluster braided on each corner. Highlights fell in bars across it's gleaming fabric, the curved and soft plush combined with the strong colors enticing the curiosity. A marvelous craft of delicate comfort, the most expensive and luxurious materials condensed into one intimate object of obscurity.

"...Thank the Stars for Paranoia."

She reached out, shakily, as if it were an object that would dissolve in the faintest breath of air. Fingers twitched as they hovered above, eyes radiant with passion. Ever so carefully she lifted it from it's place, and held it there, staring. Twitch.

"I've found it... Anne. What will save me."

Yes. A pillow. An explaination through ignorance shall suffice.

"Alright, Nokona, dear." Worried poured like brittle molasses from her voice, not giving, but trying nonetheless. She yearned to be back with Lucille and away from this insane Nokona, but she felt herself magnetized in her spot. The more she stayed, the more confusion inundated and drenched her.

What was Nokona talking of..paranoia?

The thought of being a mere servant to the Minister underlined her previous wish to be with her. Was that all? To be Crsyindom's maid until death? Not a life, to be trapped in the provincial halls of..well that wasn't exactly right, either. She traveled with Lucille. Still, she felt confined, and with that confinement came anger, and anger coerced confusion, and..

Her eyes darted. Quickly. Thoughts began flashing, like foxes trotting for prey on a winter's morning, light-tipped paws. She need desperately to talk to the Minister, to put her worries in a gauzy noose. She needed to forget Nokona, and her annoyances.

"Let us talk these legal matters now, Nokona!"

All roads lead to Lucille

"These pillows are each unique, Anne. Each one hand crafted, each one with it's own purpose. Persia, to Asia Minor, to Korea, to Venezuela and Epsilonia. Each one worth ones life."

Grin.

"This one... Is the Hornet Cushion. Crafted in Persia, by the Urissir of the Aisha Clan. Named for it's colors, and one other aspect."

A hand flew and grasped a corner tassel tightly, and tore it away in one fell swoop. A full yard of yarn followed as the fringes disappeared being wrenched from the stitching. The seam along the top parted with a snap. Immediately Nokona began digging within the pillow, pulling out folds of wool and strings of silk, tearing the pillow apart with no regard for it's stature. Only a few seconds were needed to dismantle the once oh so sacred thing, and then it was gone. It was replaced only by shreds of fabric, wool, and string.

"It holds a Hornets sting."

Nokona stood from stooping at the pillows, and swayed wearily from side to side as she still faced away from- It. A cock of the head to peer over the back of her shoulder, and she swiveled to face the one who had been tormenting her with spells of the arcane.

"Paranoia, and fear. The two things which had driven Fodmodmadtol. The two things which had driven it's leaders. The two things which had driven... My mother."

In her hand, Nokona held a dagger.

"Fear is overated. If one want's their domain cleansed, one must be willing to spill blood. One must not fear what might come."

And the Sun smiled, once more.

Two things went through Anne's head when she saw the dagger.

1. She hadn't said anything to her mother nor her recently deceased father in 10 years.

2. She hadn't finished For Better or For Murder, the book she was currently captivated with.

Nothing else had registered. It was as if she were a match in the deepest of oceans, smote in endless black depths and glazed cobalt. Anne was paralysed, captured in her own reluctant body. She wasn't afraid, exactly, more curious. But you know what they say.

Curiousty killed the cat.

C'mon, get away, move, RUN!

Nothing.

RUN!

She took a breath andstaggeredforward. Her indolent feet, a pace behind her, sent her flailing to the floor with a dull thud. It didn't register for her to get up, just to get away, anyway she could. Her legs were two blocks of lead.

So she crawled, mind blank.

Colors swirled as the tide in vast expanse doubling in over themselves as one body and disappearing back and back again, accompanied by sound amplified to one million fold where the heartbeat was likened to the din of a lions den just after a kill, the acidity of the air tearing into an unidentifiable scent which pricked at the skin and the ears, all perception shrinking and growing as an elastic invisible force where a candle would become a star and the sky would become a marble which one palms in their hand, frost and heat dancing as if one, as a pinhole was pricked in time and all was forced through into one brilliant point of emotion.

Snap.

The Sun shone in a different light.

"Easily does the Foundation of all that is Society crumble beneath the weight of one Entity, and the Pillar that is Tyranny rise from the gravel... Fodian MoDraakan. Analects, Eleven Twelve "

Blood.

Anne kept her steady crawl, eyes tapered shut to avoid the spectacle behind her. She whimpered, quietly, as if she was afraid to let a full sob escape.

You're alright, it can't happen to you

The thought played in her head, a teasing whimsy, flitting from coherent translation just before it was grasped. Somewhere, subliminally, she knew this would happen. She knew she had to get back to Lucille. But she couldn't form the words.

It kept relaying, over and over and over. Lu..Luc..Lu... It was never enough. She flopped over, like weak grain on the threshing floor, limp and rejected. She couldn't die, something reasoned, nothing like that happens to people in her position. She couldn't die..she couldn't die..she couldn't die..she could..n't..die.

Her mind exploded in ocher sparks and coral fumes. She retched, heaved, and spasmed, writhing in the spot she lay and clutching her heart that still palpitated ever so slowly, impaled by the dagger. You can't die you can't die you can't die you can't die





That day Anne learned what it was to draw her last breath.

"Mother, Anne has expressed her intentions that she does not wish to be present. She does not wish to witness your death." Ever so silently had Nokona crept back to the pair. Her hand was placed lightly on her Mother's shoulder as she stepped to her side, sparing a glance to Lucille.

The Ocean was deadly this evening. The vast expanse was now what seemed a sea of Ink which fused with the sky of Void above, crashing heavily against the cliff wall and frothing in a white fury as what loomed above feathered down in gray swaths brushed downwards in great curls. Once more the sky boomed, a flash of light defining the horizon for only a moment before it vanished back into the abyss.



The Mother opened her eyes.

"My two Dearest."

A tone of gravity, from which her frame was an odd occurance, exumed itself in the most sage of ways.

"Help me stand as to kiss the Sky, and the Sea, and the Earth, and the Fire."

In nome del Padre e del suo figlio il Messiah

Lucille extended her hand, slowly, as not to break the gossamer, fragile tegument that was Yishi. Strangely, she was not sad, just disappointed. She felt drowned in the burillion aura of melancholy that so gently wafted around her but felt spared from its fervor. Whatever level of sobered field she lay, however, she only felt anger of Anne. Weak Anne. Futile Anne. She'd give her a stern talking-to after Yishi...

Per quanto scuro i nostri giorni diventano...

She winced, blinking back tears that welled her eyes glassy. Here she was standing before one of the most important people of her life on their deathbed and she was angry. She was fuming. Yishi had no right to leave! She had no right to end her own life with such indignity! This frail, solemn woman was not Yishi! It couldn't be Yishi! Yishi, who was so strong, crippled by the deformities of her own government and forced to end her own life in the next passing moments. She gripped her hand tighter.

Don't go Yishi..

Sound did something of an inversion. It wasn't quite what it was, if what it is was what it wasn't. It seemed that audio was being drawn into a negative effect, and fought against itself installing a sense of loss and utter, complete, absolute silence. The gulls could no longer caw at their discretion. The ocean was silenced in anxiety. The thunder had fled to another haunt. A gentle rain had began to fall, yet not a sound was procured as it struck stone. Lightening severed the clouds in unrivaled dominance, bringing all into an unusual light.

The Mistress, or what was, held tightly to the Friend. Her frame screamed in protest as she moved, every cord of her being electric in agony. Tension seemed to replace everything and anything. Fire was searing through veins. Countless mechanics failed and tore themselves to bits. As soon as the Mistress was standing, she was leaning heavily into the Friend.

The Daughter was complacent. A pillar which stood apathetic in the ruin.

Sound allowed a whisper.

"Point me to the River Styx."

The Mistress had her eyes set on the Sea.

Lucille turned to Yishi.

"Come qui ci leviamo in piedi prima del suo onnipotente passi,"

As here we stand before His almighty hand,

"Non tremeremo, né piangiamo nel timore."

We will not tremble, nor weep in fear.

Her bottom lip quivered.

"Guideremo rapidamente alla nostra morte come il sole accoglie favorevolmente l'alba,"

We will ride to our death as swiftly as the sun welcomes the dawn,

"E vengalo a contatto con la dignità come il sole viene a contatto della notte."

And meet it with dignity as the sun meets the night.

She let a silent tear trace crystal contours upon her cheek before it fell in its cerulean demise. Solemnly, she reached her hand to meet a gilded, untouched goblet, inundated with water. Lucille dipped her thumb into the drink and brought it to meet Yishi's forehead.

''In nome del Padre."

Her thumb grazed Yishi's left cheek.

"E Christ la nostra Luce."

Yishi's right cheek-

"Ed il fantasma santo."

She placed her hand over Yishi's heart and closed her eyes.

"Selo ricordi di, prima dell'estremità."

Remember me, before the end.


She drew a shaky, long breath, which produced a stream of clumsy, gossamer tears. An arm was threaded through one of Yishi's arms. She smiled, sadly, as she remember that Big Band, naval alma mater that was played the day of her inauguration. That bittersweet tune, that now quareled in her recess and mingled, almost gayily.

One step toward the sea and I'll be out the door again..
Don't miss me when I'm gone because I'll be back so soon, my friend...

The blessing was received with a warm smile, and a nod.

"Vale, Lucille." Yishi took away Lucille's hand and pushed it back to her, locking eyes in an intimate gaze. She turned away, and faced the cliff. Hands went to press her Imperial Garb neatly and free of creases, then running through her hair to ensure all was proper.

"Take care of Crsyindom. Don't go warring us while I'm gone now..." She laughed. Laughter was something which had not come to her in so many ages, and it was good to know it once more. Smile was wide as the few steps to the edge were crossed free of pain. The gait held was one of a past self.

"Nokona. My love for you is endless. As is my love for the Federation. Live well. Lead well."

Arms were raised in mocking of a bird.

"Enough with the formalities."

Over she went.

Death recieved his Telegram. His Reply was concise and to the point.

Lucille stared. Briefly. Not quite understanding, not quite wanting to. It was over. Yishi was gone.

How did that song end?

One step toward the sea and I'll be out the door again..
Don't miss me when I'm gone because I'll be back so soon, my friend..
And if I die don't weep for long, don't let me burden be..
Just remember all our golden years as they bury me at sea.

She stared out where Yishi had left. No, not left, died. In her own, morbid way, she felt relief. Relief for Yishi to be free from her twisted and caustic roots, relief for her to be lifted from her laborous years confined in a wheelchair, relief for it to be all over...and then, a great sadness washed over her, like a magnificent gust of intangible winds, swathing over frocks of pallid grey hills. How would Nokona carry on? How would she take Yishi's leaving- no, not leaving, death. However futile the knowledge Lucille knew of Nokona, common sense would beckon her that Nokona would be grieving for a long spell of time.

"Nokona...I'm so sorry. She i-" was "-was a great woman. She will find her place of serenity in whatever nirvana she chose.."

"I'm so sorry"

"If you have common sense... You will join my Mother of your own free will rather than force me to soil this Domain. However unworthy you are of following suit in my Mother's death, I would rather not bloody my hands further."

The wind whipped as Nokona closed the distance between She and Her in an instant, hand placed lightly on Her shoulder as She unsheathed the Dagger from her robes and pressed it into the shallows of her flesh, pushing pressure into her back with the Dagger tilted as to avoid piercing Her.

Cut her throat.

Spill her blood!

Meet her death...

"Bloody my hands further... The blood of the Other was filthy enough..."

Respect for The Mistress was ceremony. Nothing more.

The other?

Oh. Anne.

ANNE!

Lucille swam in mixed emotions, confused, ambivalent. Her olive pupils dialated and dissemated into the whites of her eyes, palpitating as fast as her heart. Her face burned with humilation and anger, licked with the rays of a white hot fervor.

Iesus..

"Where is she?!" She screamed at Nokona, pivating choking on her own voice. "Where is my Anne?!"

Ave Maria
Gratia Plena
Dominus Tecum..

She threw her hands on Nokona's shoulders, oblivious to any vunerable position she was throttling her person into.

"WHERE IS ANNE?!"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't you dare touch me."

The dagger came shooting up into her stomach, just underneath the rib. One last push as she drove it deeper in, searching for the final point of The Tainted One's failure. She didn't stop untill it was buried up to it's hilt, blood flowing smoothly as a torrent from this Fatal infliction. Her other hand came to grab the back of the Others head, to bring the Other to meet her gaze.

Nose to nose.

"Infidel."

The Sun, with only the slight of hand, cast The Soiled over the Cliff.

"..followed by recent happenings in the government that have placed Alberto Caroccia, the Minister of Security, at La Capitale Rosa. Lucille Caroccia, her Minister, and Anne DeLuche, her Assistant, have taken leave in Hephaestus, Fodmodmadtol, thus coercing the sucession of powers: Alberto Caroccia is now his Minister and Humberto Genedo, Speaker of the Domestic Security House, will be temporarily covering as Minister of Security. And later tonight, has the CLO epidemic hit.."

Alberto Caroccia gazed insipidly at the television screen, large, olive eyes hollow and thin-lipped mouth drooping. How could Lucy have done this to him? She had promised to help him settle the crisis of the CLO epidemic, not to mention the Priglion Czar bomb threat. How could she have bailed out on him? No, he should have never taken the position of Minister of Security. Science..science was his first love. If it hadn't been for the stubborn death of his father that had so crudely tossed him to his current indisposed position, he would have graduated at Oxherd a long time ago. And he would have been happy.

To understand Alberto Caroccia, you must understand two things. The first, Alberto is a timid man. He was the wallflower at school dances, the ambivalent doormatt to afraid to make his own decisions for fear of the consequences. He was controlled by his father, and his brothers, Danny, Bruno, Leugo, Vinci, Francisco, and Rober. Even Lucille could manipulate him, but she never did. The only reason he partook in government was to evade the shame his brothers, sister, and father would inflict upon him.

The second is that he is extremely influential. And to be influential in a government such as Crsyindom's is a very, very bad thing.

"I can't do this! I can't do this!" He ran a thin hand across his stubble-ridden face, crossing under the dark wells of violet under his eyes.

"How can she except me to this?!"

[OOC: This thread is under examination by the Order of the Seraphim on the request of Fodmodmantol. Ignore us.]