NationStates Jolt Archive

Eduard looked up at the bar, his vision was blurry and the lights we’re dim but he could make out his cellphone vibrating on the table. He figured he’d let it ring, taking a drag of a cigarette dipped in PCP, and draining the last of his scotch. The setting was the Bar de le Moitie Mort, a low-life pub across the road from the World Assembly Headquarters. Heir hadn’t left the bar in over a week; he had just sat there, dousing himself with booze and pills that he scrubbed off the occasional dealer in the bar. Eduard had come straight to the bar after the trial of Archibald, the manically insane groundskeeper that had slaughtered nine people, and was responsible for the deaths of fourteen. The Unibot media had been covering the story for over a week, without any end in sight, the groundskeeper had planned to murder his employer at his birthday with the help of his estranged son when things had went terrible wrong. Heir had been a guest to the party, and therefore lawfully had to testify to the court. The proceedings of the court had been a bad joke; the public defender for Archibald spent the entirety of the proceedings wasting his time on his cellphone arranging an underground cock fight, and even tried to leave half way through to make a drug deal…which the court laughingly obliged.

The Unibotian ambassador picked up the cellphone, it had buzzed long enough. He answered it, to hear Archibald’s voice on the other line. “Hello Eduard, how does the Bar de le Moitie Mort look from the eyes of a washed up politician at three o’ clock in the morning?” Eduard laughed coarsely, everyone knew that when times got rough you could find Heir at his favorite bar “Hello Archibald, how does the Unibot State Penitentiary look from the eyes of a washed up convicted serial killer at…eh…seven o’ clock in the morning, Unibot time…if I’m not mistaken?” Archie laughed chillingly, “I wouldn’t know the time if my personal guard had a head shaped like a clock, ye see I’m in a high security vault…there is no windows…just plexiglas and concrete, they seem to think I might bite through the steel bars and kill some more people”, Eduard smiled, “I recommended the Plexiglas…why did you call Archibald, to say goodbye?” The groundskeeper laughed very hard on that line, “you think you’re so important, it must blind you from seeing the truth, just as much as your love blinded you from seeing Ms. Smith’s true intentions. Let me guess, she took the money that you recovered and skipped town…that’s why she wasn’t there at the trial.” Eduard shouted and in a fit of rage through his bottle of scotch at the wall, which slammed into a million pieces “NEVER TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT, she’s not some slab of meat that you can dispose of like you did to those houseguests”

Archie laughed even harder as Eduard got angrier, “You’re not over her, are you? She treats you like rabid dog meat…uses you, and then leaves you by the side of the road, AND YOU’RE DEFENDING HER. It’s really pathetic Eduard, I’d have you know. I just wanted to call and tell you how sorry I am that I lied to you”

Eduard was the one laughing now, “yeah…I’m sure you’re really sorry…”, Heir could practically hear Archibald shake his head over the phone, “no, I mean it…the killer is still out there….” Heir stopped laughing and Archibald continued, “I didn’t kill Queene, I was going to, but someone else shot him before me. Like a boy chasing rainbows, I landed myself front headline news with my antics, that’s the way to go out with style. I think you found it hard to explain to everyone in the courthouse what happened, that’s what is really killing you, the absurdity of it all, eating your moralities like a mass of flies to a decomposing head on a stick. No, someone else killed Joseph Queene, and I’m afraid the reason is probably something far less tangible then an elaborate plan to humiliate the world’s aristocracy, but more along the lines of lunacy, and …curiosity.”

Archibald hanged up the phone, and Eduard didn’t know what to say. He seemed serious, and that’s what frightened Heir, who left the bar in a spontaneous decision.

Eduard drunkenly walked to an old decrepit city bridge, standing on one of the beams, looking over the edge. Heir spread his arms out wide, feeling the breeze off the sea run through his fingers. His face was worn and bearded, his court suit was stained, and his will to live had been crushed by a woman’s regrettable greed and a madman’s desperate phone call before capital punishment.

His legs prepared to jump, when someone stopped him.

(Join in with flashbacks of the last week, and someone please stop me from jumping! If you're a new character to this RP, this is a sequel to the events of a murderous night at a house party in a mansion, as if the insane aftermath of Clue-on-steroids. If you're coming in now, you can act as a new character who wasn't at the party originally or a character that was at the party and wasn't talked about. A big welcome to all of the return customers as well!)

OOC: I'll let someone else stop the jumping. It won't make much sense if Baker does it.

IC:

Aglorea City, Capital of the Democratic Republic
George Baker sat on a bench at the park near the AIA headquarters, one leg crossed over the top of the other with a newspaper in hand. The paper, The Aglorean Star, was the official newspaper of the nation, endorsed by the government and the first to recieve official news. The front page story was simply titled "ELECTION SEASON BEGINS", and indeed it had. While Baker was away in Unibot on official business, the political world had turned upside down as it always did when the president's term was ending. President Rescudo had won every election since he began running for the office, and he was well liked overall. And he always had Baker's vote.

Baker flipped through the Star and turned to page seven, where the story of the incident at Queene's party was mentioned. The story went, according to the paper: "Jonathan Queene, the last nobility in the nation of Unibot, was cut down last week from an assassin's bullet. The killer, known only as Archibald, was Queene's groundskeeper, and with the help of Queene's own son, successfully completed the crime. Several other party guests were killed, and Archibald was ultimately caught as he tried to flee the scene." It was a short and straightforward story.

Baker remembered quite clearly the events directly after the party. He had driven to the airport and taken the first plane back the Aglorea. There had of course been some Unibotian security officials that were looking for him, but they were easy enough to avoid. He had gotten back to the home country a day later, and was told to take some time off. He spent most of it thinking about the party, as he often did with all missions. One particular aspect had captured his attention most of all: Samantha Smith, the woman who had mysteriously showed up and had disappeared just as quickly. She was interesting, and relatively attractive. She even had Eduard Heir after her. He had requested that she be found, if only because he wanted to see her again.

Baker's cell phone rang. He answered with a simple "Baker here" and then quickly folded the newspaper and stood up. He moved swiftly to the AIA headquarters building, and walked inside. They had something for him.

OOC: Could I have a character stop the jumping or will someone else accept that?

I'd like to join in by finding Eduard about to commit suicide, like Zanzibar.

Eduard felt a tear form in his red glassy eyes, he hadn’t cried in a long time. He looked down at the water, coughing up vomit as he stumbled off the ledge and back onto the concrete. He fell flat onto a sewer vent beside a homeless man sleeping under a newspaper; he was huddled on the vent for heat. The homeless man looked up at Heir, “what the hell are you doing?” Eduard stared at him, wiping his face “um…I was...I was...just looking at the scener…y…” the homeless man interrupted him, “you were jumping I suppose? I take it from your fancy clothes, you’re some sort of business man, and from the smell off your breath and your unshaven face, I’d say you’ve had a hard week. I see three business men like you a week, lined up here to jump, five if it’s after a big lottery draw. You come ‘cause you say you’re not what you use to be, the stocks aren’t interesting…or they’re not coming your way. You bastards don’t have enough vision to see past your own pain, maybe you deserve to jump off a bridge. The irony is the more attention a suicide gets, the less reasons behind them it seems. And, I mean, fundamental reasons, ye know? Maybe you should stop looking inside, because it’s not looking at the full picture, not yet. That’s what minds do to cope with big problems, they focus on are trivial, petty troubles in life and block out the real issues at hand.”

Eduard looked at the homeless man, “what’s the real issue at hand?”
The toothless man smiled, “what are you ignoring?”

Heir shook the man’s hand, “who are you?” the bum coughed, “Daniel, Danny Edinburgh”. Eduard was confused, “I’ve heard that name before…?”

Daniel explained, “A couple years ago I was a university professor, criminal and abnormal psychology. Down at West U, there was a rapist on campus, he was sneaking into girls dormitories…and quickly his behavior turned to that of Jack the Ripper. I was emotionally involved with one my colleagues, while I took a mild interested in finding the murderer. Then my fellow teacher, and lover, Shannon, was hunted like rabid meat by the rapist one night. The press painted me as the murderer; they uncovered my love for her, and portrayed me as being some shrewd professor, infatuated with the criminal mind. My career was ruined, and I drank myself into depression, and bad health. End of story.”

Eduard stood up, “did they ever find the killer?”
Danny laughed, “no, but they made one out of me.”
Heir stared at him, suspicious. Daniel explained, “I tried to kill myself a dozen times, and I might not of physically been able to do it, but I’d say the man I was is dead.”
Eduard nodded, pulling out all the money he had on him, about a half a million dollars in cash. He chucked it onto the homeless man, and left.

Eduard whispered under his breath, “thanks Danny”. Heir walked across the bridge, he knew where he was heading to now.

OOC: Sorry I didn't load the page to see your requests till after I had written, please join, you can meet up with my character as he is walking or something, (a reporter would make sense, considering he is the President) or come up with your own creative entrance, thats fine by me. Again I'm sorry, I had created the opening for someone, but I hadn't thought anyone wanted to come after waiting a bit.

OOC: OK, cool. And Heir and Eduard are the same man, or not?

IC:

William Garrett strode across the bridge like he actually had a purpose, which, in fact, he didn't. Dressed in a fine polo shirt with casual jeans, he actually was looking for his brand-new car, which he had parked somewhere so then he could take a stroll while taking a break from the smoky and heated air inside the World Assembly. He quietly watched a man walk away from the bridge, like he actually had a purpose. Bah. There's nothing else to do. William quickly ran to catch up with the man, coming from behind and tapping him on the shoulder, while noticing his Aston Martin DBS on the street up ahead. "Hello, sir, do you know where the World Assembly headquarters are?" He decided to see what type of a man this was.

OOC: OK, cool. And Heir and Eduard are the same man, or not?

IC:

William Garrett strode across the bridge like he actually had a purpose, which, in fact, he didn't. Dressed in a fine polo shirt with casual jeans, he actually was looking for his brand-new car, which he had parked somewhere so then he could take a stroll while taking a break from the smoky and heated air inside the World Assembly. He quietly watched a man walk away from the bridge, like he actually had a purpose. Bah. There's nothing else to do. William quickly ran to catch up with the man, coming from behind and tapping him on the shoulder, while noticing his Aston Martin DBS on the street up ahead. "Hello, sir, do you know where the World Assembly headquarters are?" He decided to see what type of a man this was.

Samantha Smith sat in a police interrogation room in a little backwater called Ilois, her mind going over a thousand possible ways to extract.

The police here were idiots, for a start. They hadn't had the sense to stop her at the airport and it had taken them a whole day to track her down. But they were idiots with guns and that's seldom a good combination.

The assignment was completed. The package was ready to deliver. She had only gone out to confirm one last detail, the icing on the cake, as it were. If they were going to get her, they would have got her at the airport anyway.

There were no bars on the windows in this room. It couldn't be very far to the ground. The guards' necks looked fragile. Then there was the Fatatatutian ship in the harbour, hardly an ideal escape route, just barely better than nothing.

But it would be better to talk her way out. I'm just a tourist. I'm a civil servant on vacation. They had nothing on her, no weapon, no contraband of any kind, nothing but their own incompetent failure to pass her through Customs properly. It would be better to walk out the front door a free woman, meet up with Ramon and Jimmy again, continue their fishing trip and put the icing on the cake. Then, tomorrow morning, on the plane and out.

"Hello, sir, do you know where the World Assembly headquarters are?"
Eduard Heir looked at him with a face that said, “bud, this just isn’t the time” however in fact he replied, “it’s about ten meters that way” Eduard pointed to the north where there was a barrage of security, and an elaborate gate, blocking the view of a mile long strip decorated with thousands of flags, fountains, ice cream vendors and statues. At the end of the strip lay the newly constructed WAHQ in the mist. It was an unwieldy gigantic display of architecture and social culture, and something that was too large for one person to miss. Eduard was getting into his supercar, texting his assistant on a handheld device, as he looked over at the man, who looked mildly lost. Heir scratched the back of his neck and took a deep breath; it was time to see past his own pain, “do you need a lift somewhere? I’m heading to my place in Downtown Unibot; it’s about an hour from here…”

(OOC:Good to see you Fatatatutti, and welcome Kenavt, sorry for the mix-up)

A man appeared to casually walk towards Eduard, though it seemed he was drawn to him. The man wore a fine black suit with a red tie, a black hat, and a small gold necklace that had the words Nero on it. His hair might have been curley, however he kept it jelled back. Smoke came out of his mouth, yet he lacked cigarettes. He approached the pair, and in the voice reminisant of a southern gent said,"Hello sirs, lovely night aint it?"

A man appeared to casually walk towards Eduard, though it seemed he was drawn to him. The man wore a fine black suit with a red tie, a black hat, and a small gold necklace that had the words Nero on it. His hair might have been curley, however he kept it jelled back. Smoke came out of his mouth, yet he lacked cigarettes. He approached the pair, and in the voice reminisant of a southern gent said,"Hello sirs, lovely night aint it?"

"Hello, sir, do you know where the World Assembly headquarters are?"heading to my place in Downtown Unibot; it’s about an hour from here…”
Eduard Heir looked at him with a face that said, “bud, this just isn’t the time” however in fact he replied, “it’s about ten meters that way” Eduard pointed to the north where there was a barrage of security, and an elaborate gate, blocking the view of a mile long strip decorated with thousands of flags, fountains, ice cream vendors and statues. At the end of the strip lay the newly constructed WAHQ in the mist. It was an unwieldy gigantic display of architecture and social culture, and something that was too large for one person to miss. Eduard was getting into his supercar, texting his assistant on a handheld device, as he looked over at the man, who looked mildly lost. Heir scratched the back of his neck and took a deep breath; it was time to see past his own pain, “do you need a lift somewhere? I’m heading to my place in Downtown Unibot; it’s about an hour from here…”

(OOC:Good to see you Fatatatutti, and welcome Kenavt, sorry for the mix-up)

OOC: It's OK, I was just wondering.

IC:

"Do I need a lift? Umm... sure." William smiled a tiny bit. Let's actually do something beside sit inside a dusty old room full with filibustering and cigars. I can pick up my car later. He took a longing glance at his favorite possession in the world, and climbed in to the seat next to Eduard rather rudely, but before he completely closed the door behind him, he noticed the man walking nearby. "It's morning, bud. He climbed inside the car and asked Eduard, "What do you do for a living?"

Sam strolled along the airport concourse looking for a payphone.

My fate is to wander the earth meeting idiots, she mused. The two goons, er, guards who had been assigned to boot her out of Ilois had gotten lost. They had taken her to a plane so small that it wouldn't have gotten out of sight of land before it ran out of fuel. She had come looking for a real commercial flight and she had lost them. Somehow, she had lost them. On the tarmac, she had lost them.

She passed an information booth and was tempted to stop and ask if anybody had turned in a couple of dopey cops. Better not, she decided. When being deported, it's bad enough to accidentally lose your captors, never mind drawing attention to their stupidity.

Baker walked into the Aglorean Intellegence Building. The first time he had walked in here was thirteen years ago, at the age of twenty-two. He had been a soldier in the Aglorean Airborne before that, and had seen his fair share of conflict. Once he left the military, he immediately moved into the Intellegence community, and after several tests and interviews, was accepted. He had since been to a number of foreign nations, and met with people of all walks of life, from common workers to presidents.

Whatever it was they had for him this time, it was sure to be good.

bump?

OOC: Sorry I was away for two days, I didn't get to warn you guys! Good ol' Camping.... I'll come up with a post in a little bit,

Eduard smiled at the question, "What do you do for a living?", Heir answered, "I'm the president of Unibot, which is sort of a government monopoly, so I'm also the CEO of a well established arms manufacturer, among other things, HEIR industries supplies the three D's mostly in the non-militaristic division... drugs, drywall and diesel. Anything our country needs...being the boss it gets me a discount on booze, drugs and sex, so I'm a happy man. I don't get out base jumping even half as much as I use to, let alone, spelunking...now it's just late nights at bars, dodging assassins with parachutes, and cold, emotionless sex from cosmetically enhanced diplomats who are just trying to work their way up, aka professional bitches with implants, university degrees and weird looking cocktails."

Sam sat on the deck watching the surf. There were two envelopes, both postmarked Unibot, on the table beside her. Her coffee cup was on top of them.

One had the logo of a car-rental company on it. She was willing to bet they wanted her to pay for the car that she broke. But it wasn't her fault. Luckily, she was wearing her seatbelt or she could have been killed. If she was a vindictive person, she'd sue.

The other was simply addressed to Samantha Smith, Fatatatutti. Damn the Post Office for finding her. She blamed email. It was probably the only snail-mail they had to deliver.

The breeze seemed to be increasing. There were a few youngsters - pre-teens, as far as she could tell from that distance - playing on surfboards. Their mothers would be looking for them soon. It seemed ironic to Sam that she was one of the few people on the island who could swim and also, it seemed, one of the few who didn't surf.

Her coffee cup was empty. If she picked it up and went into the house for a refill, both envelopes would be gone when she came back. And that would be the end of that.

A cloud went across the sun and the shadow was noticeably colder. She could feel the cool of the breeze between her bare toes.

The man cooly replies,"Morning, night, makes no difference in my profession." He then listens to the story of Eduard, smiling. He says,"Hmmm, your life seems dull and drab. Maybe I can help spicen it up, for the low low cost, of zero dollars and zero cents."