The first day of the year 691. Church derived great enjoyment from quiet mornings with her husband and child. About the only distraction was trying to fit a size 10 Serravalen into size 8 clothing after their guest woke up weak as a kitten and much more subdued than usual. She didnt even bite to any of Church's banter about going on a diet except for a few short jokes aimed directly back at her. It was the first time in what seemed like years she had seen her friend dressed "respectably" as she would have put it and the tall Brainwaster woman managed to carry the look off rather well, Church would have made her a model once for a fashionable New Paris company, she even had the contracts drawn up and the client was eager. But for reasons unknown to her, Serravalen turned it all down and threw away a chance to become disgustingly rich that most girls would have given anything for. Serravalen had lots of personal issues which had only gotten more complex since her husband had died, it was rumoured around the office that she had killed him as a proof of loyalty to the department. Church didnt want to know and she didnt want to deal with the thought that maybe one day she would have to do the same. Or that the woman sitting on her couch with her son Aziel watching cartoons and laughing with him would do such a thing to her family.
Gradually her thoughts drifted towards Sandy and she wondered where he was and if he was safe, "what a terrible world we live in", she thought wondering if there was a way to escape the employment of SLA and live in a world where serial killers, terrorists and the darker things out there wouldnt threaten her family. It would have been treason to say it out aloud but she reminded herself how she had passed the conditioning, she was here to defend her family from the bad things out there at any cost. She just worried that they would destroy all she stood for inside out like it had happened to Sandy and she could see happening slowly to Serravalen. It was a dark way to start the day with thoughts like this but so much change demanded she pay attention to these details, lest they catch her off gaurd.Fate had a funny way of throwing different people together in similar situations, the Darkfinder DF01007, Muyal the Necanthrope and the cleaner, Barry, all ended up outside the flat 460, Reenkin Rd with a common purpose in mind. They needed to talk to the inhabitant of the said apartment and there was some dispute as to who was going to knock first and who got to talk to the inhabitant first.
DF01007 argued that he was under the direction of Slayer himself, Muyal was under the direction of the Dept of Ebb, Preceptor Teeth and Slayer himself. Not to be outdone Barry said he was here to 'clean' up a little accident, money was business and he was here on Slayer's behest as well. The other two where taken aback by the 'cleaner' for all of 3.7 seconds before realising that Barry was only armed with soap, sponge and a bad sense of humour that got a revolver and seven barreled Gore Cannon pointed at him at the 3.9 second mark. Muyal bounced the wiry red headed human off the door 3 times and waited for a reply from inside. "came to clean your car ma'am?" The small nervous ebon woman with the nice green eyes gave him the car keys and 20uni in advance after taking his card for verification. Barry retreated backwards thanking her profusely and made for the elevator, another small victory for mankind over the biogenetic and ebb warriors.The Darkfinder left a small note in Church's hand and made sure she read it before leaving without a word, taking the message with him and departing into the morning rain. Finally the Necanthrope ambled in on digitated legs, smiled at the diminutive ebon and closed the door behind the departing overcoat clad Darkfinder. Serravalen usherd Church's family into the neared bedroom, she unlike Church put on a brave face to the 7 foot mountain of muscle and rancid smelling flux that hulked in front of her friend.
"I represent the Dept of Ebb", it whispered in a grating tone, "you no longer are responsible for the Brainwaster Sandy's behaviour". Technically Church outranked the the necanthrope in rank, department and SCL but she had to defer to the creature because it represented the pinacle of ebons and brainwasters race in terms of development and their unofficial master. It could and probably would squash her like a bug too if she became difficult. Muyal seemed to be slow finding its words but continued once Church's nausea passed so it could be sure she and the rather arrogant 'waster understood completely. "What is happening to your friend will happen to you both once you are ready, he is however, reluctant to follow us just yet. The Preceptor 'asks' that you dont interfere any further, you seem to cause more harm than solve anything, burning down half of Downtown and all that"
Serravalen walked up calmly to the other two and made a point of looking annoyed at the SCL 5b Muyal telling her what to do, she held up her real ID card and stuck it in his face.
The necanthrope snorted derisively, "your SCL and department wont protect you where your going Serravalencia and your getting so close these days. Best listen to your elders otherwise you can get into a lot of trouble. We will watch over him." With that the necanthrope left them to mull over their problems and those of their partner.
Standing up to the necanthrope left Serravalen feeling emotionally and physically drained, still weak from the bloodloss she sat down on the couch while Church collected her family from the bedroom and explained to them quietly that she and aunty Serra had to go away for awile.Horrible dreams woke Sandy from the drunken slumber he had fallen into early that morning, at least he was home although there was no recollection of getting from lounge to bed. A dream where Necanthropes where leering at him from all sides after he had done something he normally wouldnt do and the image of bloodshed in a dark room began fading from his minds eye. He wore the Deathsuit constantly now, its touch against his skin calmed him and he checked it for damage and wear as a morning ritual. It was intact and clean, still the same origional matt black, science friction material as the day he had bought it 15 years ago when he joined SLA.
Today he decided he would make a stand against the drink, the White Noise, the phantoms in the corner of his eye and the strange noises. "A man had to stand on his own two feet to be counted", his father always said. Two normal, loving ebon parents had managed to sway their difficult Brainwaster prodginy into being a normal, sociable individual with no abnormal and disgusting habits that most 'wasters seemed to revel in. The world seemed to be against the nice guys. His family was dead 14 years past in a car accident and he missed them, the nicer, normal women stayed away from the charred eylids so he was always single and never really considered himself overly attractive anyway. About his only friend was Church, who was taken and he kicked himself mentally for not asking her out the years before she got married, he'd waited too long. Serravalen couldnt really be considered a friend, just someone he worked with who took every chance to beat on the nice guy if he screwed something up, lately though, he had to give her credit because he had made everything a lot more difficult for her. Considering he'd almost killed her last night which he felt bad about.
Even his DNA altered feline, Mynx didnt want to have anything to do with him and the skinny black kitten seemed to be hiding from him this morning. Checking the usual hiding spots throughout the flat he couldnt seem to find her anywhere and there wasnt much room anywhere else in the 3 room living area for a cat to be. He hoped that she hadnt gotten out accidently but that was impossible, he always locked the door, giving up for now he washed the crusty bits out of the corners of his eyes and cleaned his teeth in the sink. Set the cats auto feeder in the corner of the kitchen in case the mongrel found its way out of where it was hiding and got hungry. He couldnt remember the last time he ate so instead of cooking it was time to go find something down the road and quickly before the combination of acid and booze ate a hole in his stomach.Church and Serravalen turned up at the simple cafe where Sandy was having breakfast after calling him on his cellphone and arriving 20 minutes later in a cab, he took the liberty of ordering for them and pre paying the meal. "We have to get in and see control in about 2 hours", Church said quietly looking around the spartan surroundings of white tiles and lamineer furnishings but found nothing of interest. About the only other customers where a half dozen Frothers, hungover, still wearing last nights party get-up and a rather hungry 313 Stormer which had given up on the cutlery and was going for bulk calorie intake instead on a table full of food. Serravalen looked like she might just shoot the Stormer out of hand for being a noisy eater but instead found herself looking to the greasy breakfast as a way of getting back some vital energy. "Ok," Sandy managed a smile, "I'll have to go home and get my things". He felt he was winning this morning which was a nice change, even the figures moving around in the corner of his vision seemed to be more subdued.
When 'Druoog time!' came around in the Frother's corner they decided that it was a good time to leave the tartan clad madmen to their devices, it was a quick walk back to Sandy's place to get his equipment. None of them even knew a thing about the job that was comming up, Serravalen was the first to spot the broken corpse of Mynx the cat outside the entrance to Sandy's apartment. A scruffy looking, little brown dog was sniffing at the dead animal and trying to decide which bit to nibble on first when Serravalen drop kicked it into the nearby fast moving traffic. The shreik of a small mammal having its gonads compressed into its abdomen was cut short by a wet smacking noise as it impacted onto a passing Shiver APC.
Church screamed suddenly at the wanton cruelty of kicking someones pet into traffic.
The APC driver, his windscreen obscured by peices of dog, crashed into a firetruck.
Someone angrily yelled loudly down the road, "KICK MY DOG WILL YA!"
Serravalen gave him the finger and began filling out a form from her handbag.
Another two cars crashed into the back of the APC and careened into the other lane.
Sandy began crying over his dead cat and cradled it gently in his hand.
The large burly man who owned the dog decided to come closer and began yelling at Serravalen, who finished completing her form and handed it to him.
Hauled out her pistol and executed him.