paixaorpg | The beginning...

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The beginning...

Character(s): Sephiroth, Resistance members
Content: The plot thickens!
Setting: An abandoned warehouse
Time: Midnight
Warnings: Plotting, cursing likely, fighting possible. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

The scene: A smallish empty warehouse, no larger than a hangar for a two-seat aircraft. Several small, empty crates, loose boards, and other such detritus have been arranged into passable, if slightly uncomfortable, seating. At the center of the room stands a small table with a projector, of the sort one might see in a classroom. There is a small bucket with many different colored markers sitting nearby, along with what looks to be a barstool.

Standing by that projector, waiting, Sephiroth watched the entrance. The windows had long since been covered, presumably by the gypsies, and there was a large screen at the open end of the room.

Gone was the easygoing man who had so easily handed over his sword at the fairground gate. There was nothing easy in the rigid military stance, the hard-set, glowing, glacial eyes, or that scowl. This was the precursor, if he was right, to war.

And a general is never easygoing in front of the troops.

A signal had been sent out to those he had spoken to, and those who were deemed trustworthy enough to know of this meeting. He was expecting quite an unique group, one which would necessarily be sworn to the highest secrecy.

There would, inevitably, be loose lips. He knew and expected this.

The question was, would his countermeasures be enough? There were four distinct seating areas, and... well, to say more would give away the game.

Sephiroth stood, and waited. The appointed hour drew near.

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Death, as a rule, was always very punctual. In his line of work, he needed to be. Today, however, he broke his own rules and arrived at the meeting place thirty minutes early. He too suspected that not all who arrived here would be coming with the best of intentions, and he intended to watch everybody who came in - he still didn't know the faces of all the Organization members, so if anybody came in lacking a name or a lifespan, he would know right away.

GOOD EVENING, he greeted Sephiroth. I TRUST WE ARE PREPARED.

Ah, Death. Ever the punctual one. Well, in this case, -early-.

With a slight bow, Sephiroth greeted the dread spectre. "As much as we can be. The rest, I fear, depends on the efforts of others. I cannot move freely about with recruitment efforts and must therefor rely on selected agents."

Relaxing his stance to an aggressive parade rest, Sephiroth faced Death. "I fear that, before all is said and done, your services may be required. From what I understand, the foes we face are beyond the scope of most I have yet encountered."

For a man who said he feared so much, Sephiroth's voice was remarkably easy-going. "Have you told anyone of this meeting?" he asked, hoping that the answer would in fact be 'yes'.

Death met Sephiroth's gaze. There was no fear, no worry, no uncertainty even, just calm and certainty - should Death set about a task, it would get done. There was no question of that. I WILL ASSIST YOU IN ANY WAY I CAN, he intoned. SIMPLY TELL ME WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE.

TO BEGIN, I SHALL WATCH THE DOOR THIS EVENING, he offered, glancing towards the single entrance to the building. SHOULD ANY MEMBERS OF THE ORGANIZATION OR ANYBODY ELSE UNINVITED ENTER, I WILL KNOW.

I HAVE SPREAD WORD OF THIS MEETING, he continued, BUT ONLY TO THOSE I CONSIDERED TRUSTWORTHY. AT THE MOMENT, I AM NOT CERTAIN IF ANY OF THEM WILL COME, BUT I WOULD BE SURPRISED IF THEY DID NOT.

Though he did not know of Death's ability to see the true names of those he met, Sephiroth concurred with this. "If nothing else, it would provide a large intimidation factor," he mused, nodding to Death.

Hearing Death's assertion that he had indeed passed the word, Sephiroth nodded again and took up a seat on the bar stool. "I saw your journal post. In the future it might not be so wise to be so open about it. Such things can be interfered with, and intercepted." It was one of the reasons Sephiroth relied on physical messengers and messages, and only with people he trusted.

A computer, even one with a complex password and code, can be fooled given enough time.

"Death... What have you heard of those Organization members that have been revealed? I know that there are twelve whose names have been revealed, but beyond that, only a few minor details. The core abilities of some, for instance."

THIS IS TRUE. Death nodded simply - being visible, he'd discovered, did indeed have its advantages.

I AM SORRY, he continued, pulling his journal from his robe and holding it pensively in his hand. THE DISCWORLD IS NOT QUITE THIS ADVANCED WHEN IT COMES TO TECHNOLOGY, AND I AM STILL GETTING USED TO IT. PERHAPS YOU KNOW OF A WAY TO MAKE IT MORE SECURE?

AND I AM AFRAID I KNOW NO MORE THAN YOU DO. It was a simple statement of fact, soon to be remedied if Death had anything to say about it. I WAS UNFORTUNATE ENOUGH TO MEET THREE OF THEM IN BATTLE. ONE HAD THE POWER TO CONTROL PLANTS AND ANOTHER WATER, BUT I DID NOT KNOW WHO, AS THEIR HOODS WERE UP.

I ALSO MET LARXENE FACE TO FACE, he continued. That had been a scant three days ago. HER CONTROL IS OVER LIGHTENING, AND I WOULD NOT RECOMMEND FACING HER IN BATTLE.

I AM AFRAID THAT IS ALL I HAVE, he finished. HAVE YOU BEEN ABLE TO GATHER ANY MORE INFORMATION?

"They would have discovered us eventually at any rate. I have never been a large fan of guerrilla campaigns; knowing that the opposition knows of us gives me some measure of confidence."

Rolling a kink from his shoulders, Sephiroth propped one leg on the stool's crossbar. "No one seems to know more than a bare scattering of details about these people. Even those who have compiled data on the message boards seem to be lacking a great deal."

At the comment about not recommending facing Larxene in battle, Sephiroth gave a very slightly nasty smile. "I make it a habit to overestimate my foes - and to make -them- underestimate -me-." Knowing the primary element of a person who used elemental based attacks was akin to giving oneself complete immunity, where he came from. Added Effect materia coupled with the respective element - or in his case, a Master Element - materia would give him a definite edge.

"For the moment, nothing more than before. As was said before - I have been unable to move freely for fear of discovery. That has changed now." And woe betide the Organization.

I BELIEVE THEY MAY KNOW MORE OF US THAN WE KNOW OF THEM, Death pointed out calmly. AND I STILL WISH TO FIND A WAY TO MAKE MY JOURNAL SECURE, IF ONLY TO PROTECT MY OWN THOUGHTS.

He rose and crossed the room, heading back towards the door and looking out through it, searching for movement, should there be any. WE KNOW TWELVE NAMES AND THREE POWERS, he commented. SCANT FEW EVEN KNOW THE FACES OF THE DIFFERENT MEMBERS. Satisfied, his gaze returned to Sephiroth. THOSE WHO WERE KIDNAPPED LIKELY KNOW MORE IN THAT RESPECT THAN ANYBODY ELSE. PERHAPS THEY WILL BE WILLING TO HELP US TONIGHT. Provided they were coming, of course.

A GOOD HABIT. Death crossed back to Sephiroth, taking his seat once again. AND A MISTAKE I WILL NOT SOON MAKE AGAIN. Remnants of cold fury pushed through the words. He had been confident in his own abilities, failing to take into account that simply because nobody had ever stood against his scythe before didn't mean nobody ever would. He had barely been able to keep up with Larxene, and somehow he couldn't stop her torturing a young girl in front of him. It would not, he vowed, happen again.

PUTTING YOURSELF IN PLAIN SIGHT ALSO PUTS YOU IN DANGER, was Death's warning - though he wasn't sure Sephiroth would need it. AFTER ALL, LAHARL WAS OFTEN IN THE PUBLIC EYE, AND LITTLE GOOD HAS BEFALLEN HIM RECENTLY.

"If my suspicions are correct, they know a great deal about everyone in this city. And there is a large chance that they are the only way anyone is going to get out of this bizarre reality."

"Perhaps. I should hope they will at least be willing to disclose what in particular was done to them. That could give us a greater idea of what we are dealing with," he said, folding his arms.

If he were to have been completely truthful, Sephiroth would have to have admitted that he was worried. The opposition held most of the cards, information-wise. There were powerful people on this side of the field - some of the most powerful individuals he had ever seen - but...

How can you fight a war against an oppositional force you cannot locate, without causing a degree of collateral damage to civilians that would be unforgivable? In an arena as enclosed as this city, it was impossible.

They had to draw their foes into the open.

And the only open ground he had yet seen was outside the domes - a place where people were normally forbidden to go.

A plan began to formulate in the silver haired general's mind. He had tried many times, covertly, to leave the city. Nothing could scratch those domes though. But he had never yet seen the gates close...

Perhaps the simple solution would work.

TRUE, Death nodded. I WOULD NOT BE SURPRISED IF THEY WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR BRINGING US HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE.

THEY MAY NOT BE WILLING TO TALK, he commented. He'd not had too much experience with human nature, but this much he knew. IT WILL MOST LIKELY BE PAINFUL FOR ALL INVOLVED, AND THEY MAY NOT WISH TO RELIVE IT.

Having seen Vetinari at work, Death could recognize the makings of a plot. I ASSUME YOU HAVE SOMETHING IN MIND.

"I was just thinking that we need to draw them out into the open. We cannot fight them within the city; the collateral damage would be too great. I am thinking a trip outside of the domes will be necessary."

"It wouldn't surprise me if they are responsible for it. I was thinking along the same line," he admitted with a very slightly wry look.

"As for their willingness to talk... I won't force them, if they don't, but I hope they will. If not now, then at some later point."

Karst's approach of the warehouse was more than wary-- it was completely untraceable. She often wandered Paixao's streets after dark, so this appeared to be only another nighttime jaunt, flitting up one street and down another, occassionally venturing into the abandoned buildings of the more run-down parts of town to scavenge, scythe in hand.

So anyone who actually managed to follow her looping, meandering journey tonight would only have seen her slip into another empty warehouse and left it at that.

"I'm here," she called softly, leaning her scythe against her shoulder and holding up her hands to show she had nothing else. "I am sorry I was so late, but I wanted to be sure I wasn't followed. Have you decided anything, Sephiroth? ... Death?"

The past few weeks had been a series of wandering, checking the journal system, and various odd job errands for both herself and townsfolk.

The ridiculously tall winged goddess ducked to get into the warehouse, promptly spreading the cloth she usually made use of as carry-all into a seat on the floor to accommodate for her height. "Greetings."

Setzer would have liked to make some sort of dramatic entrance to the little party - he'd always been one for a dramatic flair - but he figured that given the topic under discussion that probably wouldn't have been the best of ideas. After all, he had something of an idea of how these things worked thanks to long exposure to Locke and his fellows. So he settled for simply strolling nonchalantly into the abandoned warehouse.

But he'd leave the talking for later, although he did nod politely at those already gathered.

((Going to both both characters into one post here since it's easier))

Auron led the way to the warehouse, keeping a vigilant eye on his surroundings to make sure that no one (aside from the summoner behind him) was following. He wondered just what kind of group was going to be in this meeting. Death would be, of course, as he was the one who had contacted him through the journals, and Auron had a feeling Sephiroth might make an appearance as well considering all that he knew of the Organization. As for everyone else... that was hard to say.

Braska, unlike Auron, was almost completely in the dark about what was going on. He'd been told that they were going to some sort of meeting, yes, and that the topic was something Auron was sure Braska would be interested in, but other than that, he knew nothing. Auron had said that it "wasn't safe to talk about this in the open." He'd asked Auron what he meant by that, but the man had simply shaken his head and walked off, not that Braska had expected him to do any different.

The duo entered the warehouse, Auron giving a short nod to those already inside before going to stand at the other side of the room. Braska simply looked around at the others. There were so few... Perhaps they had just come early? He himself gave a short bow before going over to Auron. Hopefully he'd get some answers now.

Alice had thought the finding of the warehouse would be hard, but as usual she trusted in her instincts and they had led the way. Alice had no longer decided to keep the Vorpal blade at her boot. It now rested snugly at the top of her right arm, ready for deployment and wielding if necessary.

The last day had not been a good one for her. Between releasing a demon of some kind (and NOT the ones from her dice), losing the girl she had grown fond of and watching another girl get tortured, Alice found a steely feeling at the pit of her stomach. She had WARNED her, hadn't she, that rashly going to fight someone she had no previous knowledge of was foolish, and it had fallen on deft ears. Well there was nothing more she could do about that situation.

But now, she was getting the old feeling back. The feeling of the dark around her, of going for the weapon and making the kill of her killers. She hoped, of course, that this degree of violence could be avoided: people here tended to have weak stomachs.

Alice entered the warehouse and, upon seeing Death, curtsied. "It is good to see you again. I have come as requested."

After wandering through back alleys for a solid fifteen minutes - it wasn't as though she'd ever been in this part of the city before, after all - Rosette finally managed to find the warehouse housing the meeting. Pushing the door open, she made sure Chrno was with her and entered.

And stared. There wasn't a single face here that she knew, and - was that the Grim Reaper? Seriously? Everybody else seemed to think it was normal enough - they were even talking with him, for goodness' sake - maybe he was...part of this whole thing? She didn't know, and at this point, she wasn't going to question it. Too much.

After several seconds of staring in complete shock at the walking talking skeleton, she snapped out of it and, finding Picchu, made her way across the warehouse to stand with her. It took her longer than it normally would have, she noted with dissatisfaction. She still hadn't gotten all her strength back yet. Hopefully it wouldn't matter as much here.

Chrno stayed close - protectively so - to Rosette as they not only walked through the alley but also entered the room. The different people were confusing, but unsurprising. He didn't expect to see so many people, but the number was rather comforting. Death was noticed but wasn't regarded in the same way Rosette regarded him: Chrno was a demon, after all, and had encountered worse when he was working with Aion.

He pushed through the crowd after Rosette, determined to not lose her admist the people, which was difficult considering he was shorter than she was. "Rosette!" He exclaimed, reaching out to snag onto her arm gently, mainly to help keep tabs on her as they weaved through the crowd.

No way he was losing her again.

Once they found Picchu, Chrno let go, and resumed paying attention to his surroundings, keeping close tabs on Rosette in the process.

(OOC: Okay folks. There's ten people in this thread now, and there's likely to be a couple more later on. I am officially invoking the Three Day rule. If the person before you has not posted within three days of the last post, you are cleared to skip them. If you give advance notice, you can have up to five days, after which you should pick up a little later in the same posting sequence if you want, or in the next round at your discretion. As it stands right now, the posting order is as follows: Sephiroth, Death, Karst, Picchu, Setzer, Auron/Braska, Alice, Rosette, and Chrno. Game on! ^_^;;; )

It was a good thing Sephiroth and Death had finished their discussion, apparently, because everyone started arriving not two minutes after they had finished. First was Karst, with her scythe and her overall near lack of clothing. Suppressing an insane urge to either taunt the Proxian or flirt with her - he wasn't sure which - he shook his head. "Nothing definite yet, I fear. An idea, but little more."

Next in was the insanely tall feathered goddess, Picchu. Hers was a simple greeting, and returned in kind with a slight bow. "Good evening, Picchu."

Next in was another man with silver hair. Sephiroth was forced to do a double take at this, perhaps out of expecting someone else - Kadaj, for example - to be under that hair. But no, he did not know this man. Setzer received a nod from Sephiroth as well, as the next pair made their way in.

The first he recognized as Auron, the one-eyed man with the absurdly large sword - not that his own Masamune wasn't, but these were completely different beasts. Following him was a man whose robes marked him as a mage of some sort, though Sephiroth could not place any of the symbology. Both of these gentlemen again warranted nods of recognition.

The warehouse was starting to fill up now, and there were still more to come. Next to enter was a pasty blond youth in a frumpy dress and apron combination that was only odd on closer inspection - the skull and symbols were a nice touch, as were the blade strapped to her arm and the rest of her accoutrements. Definitely one to watch out for, as she had the somewhat glazed look of some of ShinRa's finest.

Next in was... a nun. Odd, that. Increasingly so as he noticed that her habit was not quite normal. Nor was the dress under it. And the pair of handgun-filled holsters on her hips was decidedly not part of any religious order he had ever heard of, barring the Order of St. Ignatius the Defender. (Ask me about it later, it's a cross-canon joke.) This worthy received yet another nod of recognition from Sephiroth.

Her traveling companion, a shorter male with hair so black it was almost blue, a red cloak/coat and headband (it's difficult to tell from the pic and you don't have a description in your profile, might want to fix that), and what appeared at this range to be an otherwise black ensemble, barely even compared, though Sephiroth had a feeling there was much more to him than met the eye.

Well, there were certainly enough of them here. Nine individuals, not counting himself, who had some overwhelming reason to dislike the Organization. And there were more to come.

Stepping to his makeshift podium, he flipped on the projector, which had several pictures. Faces for the most part, of twelve individuals. He waited a moment for everyone to look toward the screen - it shouldn't take long, considering that he had also killed the lights in the room - and looked up from the surface of the projector. "Some of you know me already. For the rest of you, I am General Sephiroth of SOLDIER, ShinRa Corporation's elite battle group. Most of you know why we are here. For those who don't, I offer this recap:

"Through whatever means, we have all been taken from our respective worlds and times and brought to this world. There is strong evidence to indicate these individuals," he gestured backwards toward the projected image, "of being responsible for this. Since our arrivals, many of us have experienced battle or worse at the hands of several of these people. These people, members of a group known as Organization XIII, seem to regard any life not their own as a plaything, something to be studied and then cast away. Life and limb have no consequence to them.

"Through the journals, message boards, and other means, my agents and I have gathered a reasonable amount of information about each of these individuals. There remain some large gaps, however. There are some among you who may be capable of filling some of those gaps - but do not feel yourselves forced to do so.

"Our captors seem to be a band of kidnappers and torture artists, among other things." He paused for a second there, to let all that sink in.

"The facade of a mayor they have posting on the message board claims that work is in progress to send us all home. I have watched these so-called work zones covertly. Work appears to be done, it's true, as long as you're watching. But when you turn away, things will have changed. It's subtle, but it's there. I've seen it with my own eyes."

(Sorry guys, had to break it in half to post. ^_^;;; )

Either their conversation had gone on longer than he'd thought, or others had had the same idea as Death and were arriving early. Either way, he'd not question it.

He nodded to Karst, leaving Sephiroth, who was obviously more familiar, to do the talking. He greeted Picchu with a solid GOOD EVENING, and Setzer, Auron, and - Braska? He must have been the friend Auron mentioned over the journals - with silent nods.

He found himself pleased to see Alice again. AND YOU, he replied. I HOPE YOU FIND THIS MEETING TO BE A GOOD USE OF YOUR TIME.

He was almost surprised to see the boy and girl enter after Alice. What made him look twice was not their names but their lifespans - the boy's seemed to be longer than that of near everybody in the room excepting Picchu and himself, and the girl's was...blurry, somehow, around the edges, as though it might change. He did recognize her name, however: "Rosette" had been on Timon's list of kidnapped people. Perhaps they wanted her because of the time anomaly?

Musing aside, he nodded both to her and her companion in greeting.

Taking his place against the wall of the warehouse, he kept the door in view and settled in for Sephiroth's presentation. None of this information was new to him, but hopefully those arriving would be able to provide in that respect.

It was probably a good thing that Sephiroth had not hit on Karst. Regardless of giggly feelings whenever she saw him, she might have rewarded a flirt with a stinging rebuke, if not a slap or a fireball.

She recognized Death from the journals and had addressed him already. The bird-woman Picchu was vaguely familiar from their first meeting, and Karst greeted her entry with a halfhearted wave; the rest were strangers and thusly ignored.

Sephiroth began his presentation, and the young Proxian felt a bit of concern... self doubt, maybe. Of all those present, she probably knew the least of the Organization. For all she knew, she was the only one who hadn't met one of them personally. But these were the people who had trapped her here, her and so many others, and who might have captured some of the people she and Ivan had befriended, and who had DEFINITELY kidnapped a number of people-- including that demon lord Laharl, whom she'd imagined would be here because revenge would be pertinent to his interests... but that was beside the point. The point was that these people were responsible for trapping and hurting her and others, and that... unless they really and truly had a good reason, which Sephiroth indicated they did not... she could not forgive them for doing so.

A look at the assorted gathering of people - none of whom he had met before, save for Death - would have been enough to give Setzer some idea of just how far-reaching the arm of those they opposed was. Sephiroth's presentation only served to reinforce the idea. Kidnappers and torturers who seemed to have a disregard for life? This Organization seemed to sound more and more like either the Empire or Kefka the more he heard. Or worse, like what might happen if the two had been merged. And that was not a particularly encouraging thought. He didn't even have an airship to get away from it all this time. No, this time he'd have to put his trust in fate and the cards, not to mention this resistance if he wanted to get home.

And hopefully he'd still be all in one piece when he did finally get back.

Duo slipped quietly into the warehouse, just in time to catch Sephiroth’s speech. He surveyed the number of people already present with some slight surprise—was he late?—before quickly taking in the rest of the room. After walking the streets of Paixao, where all the citizens looked so similar, the wide variety of individuals was somewhat startling. The group he had encountered when he first arrived, while diverse, hadn’t prepared him for this.

Of the crowd, he recognized only three faces—Sephiroth, Death, and Auron—but it was very clear that the first two were the head of the meeting. Duo carefully listened to Sephiroth’s words, despite his casual demeanor. Although he had acquired some information in their previous encounter, he still felt left in the dark about the true depth of the situation. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed; gathering information had always been second nature to him and not to have it in such a foreign place was rather…disquieting.

His personal ability to contribute information was unlikely at this point, but he still met this gathering with high expectations.

They really had just come early, Braska thought to himself. The group had gotten quite large.

Auron watched the presentation silently, looking to each face on the screen and memorizing it closely. Two he recognized from the journals: the blue-haired, yellow-eyed man from his first journal post, and the blond-haired, blue-eyed man with ear piercings from that one boy's journal.

Braska was more focused on the blue-haired man he'd met when he came into the city. He had been closer to danger than he had first imagined... So these people were the ones behind the kidnappings? And it was more than just kidnapping, too. He had no idea things were so complicated here. So this was what Auron wanted to show him. ...The man knew him too well.

Once he was sure he'd memorized the faces, Auron spoke up. "Do you have any information on their fighting styles?" he asked. They were fighting the Organization. The more he knew about the way they fought, the better the strategy he could come up with. His time in the Warrior Monks and all of the fighting against fiends as a guardian had given him some idea on how to deal with different attacks, whether his opponent relied on speed, raw power, or magic. Not to mention he'd learned firsthand that to go into a fight blindly was to risk death.

Midnight. For most, it was fairly easy to estimate the time, even without a watch. But for Timon -who hardly even knew what a watch was-, it was as difficult as catching a tierdless insect, never resting to allow him to pounce. And this was only the begging, only the time to meet.

The instructions given by Death appeared so simple, yet actually following them was proving far the opposite. Midnight translated to the middle of the night, that much he could gather. Judging when that was however... According to the clocks, the meerkat had convinced his friend, Pumbaa , that they were to meet at ten in the evening. But truly it was a good thing they left early, the confusion in finding the said warehouse ate away much of their arrival time.

To begin, Timon was completely clueless as to what a warehouse was. Pumbaa appeared to have his own idea's, but as far as the redhead was concerned, they were ridiculous. 'A building, or a part of one, for the storage of goods.' No, that couldn't be it. They were looking for a warehouse: a worn down house.

Of course, as anyone could predict, the 'houses' north of Iriela Apartments were far from Timon's discription. The meerkat wasn't sure himself what to make of them. Or what one the meeting was being held in. Another chunk of their time was spent trying to gain entry to the warehouses (which they failed) before they found themselves before the last of them in the area.

Motioning for the warthog to raise his head, Timon reached for the doors handle. "Now this has gotta be it or else I'm gunna give that bag a bones a real piece of my mind for this little scavenger hunt."

He struggled with the handle, pausing to look down at Pumbaa for a moment. He knew they were late, but thanks to their early departure, not to late. Who else would there waiting for them? If they even waited. Probably not... How rude. The soft click of the door opening produced a smile across his lips.

"After you, mon ami." The meerkat said, gesturing to the crack produced for them to widen and to slip through.

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The beginning...

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