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To Fight for a Country that Hates You... (Tigre-Family Stories: First Generation) - Mr.Fabulous - 01-08-2011
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Activated :::::
::::: Audio/Video/Date-Time/Locator/Encryption ::::: on/off/off/off/off
::::: Profile: Casini Peneleaus Chrisostomo :::::
::::: Entry - 3 ::::::
::::: Beginning Entry Recording :::::
A female voice heaves out a short sigh before beginning, "Vamonos... Entry 3, current date and time is 08 January, 819 A.S., 2309-hours... Apparently, still no Video-Input or any other upgrade, so it's still an Audio-Journal...
"I and my compadre are currently residing here at the Reischtald Suites, Room 452 on the 25'th floor. The hotel's situated in the Gottundeim District, which is several dozens of kilometers away from the Koschtein District, which is the place Orin mentioned where the gofer last based his operations at before his... infamous accident.
"... We... haven't conducted the search for his office yet, for we've just got here... We'll begin the investigation by tomorrow morning, I suppose. For now, señor Leonardo advised that we looked around the place and get... accustomed to our surroundings, and its' locals, before we quickly delve into it... a reasonable plan, si... and also served as a chance for mà mismo to get to know the señor a bit more.
"The first place we searched around was the whole, entire hotel. I have to say this is the first time I've ever been in a posh residencia, and my compadre managed to book us a localidad that's still cheap, yet still classy: it has great food, refined drinks, service that's easily-accessible... and proper heating, which is especially-important for a planet like New Berlin..." She exclaims further, "Can you believe that the temperature here doesn't even go above the melting-point of water in SUMMER?! So yes... proper heating's a deity-send in a planet this deity-forsaken cold, ay carumba! Also, the room my compadre chose may not have been the highest and closest to the docking-platform, but at least it's got a decent wide-angle view of Gottundeim District. Lo siento that I don't have a pic of it, for I still don't have a video-input device, heheheh...
"... Couldn't get anything out of the señor during that time... was too emphasized with the scouting, he was...
"After having gotten accustomed to the layout of much of the hotel, the next thing we did was do a general fly-by around the Gottundeim District in the Volkswagen for several hours or so. We came across little problem with scouting the area..." The voice gets suspicious and pauses for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen next, before continuing, "... save for that time when I thought we were being followed by a couple of suspicious-looking Daggers for several minutes before they left us alone... Fortunately, other than that we've had no other suspicious occurrence, but I'm still wary if they're still spying us...
"... Anyway, we observed the Gottundeim District to be a large, irregularly-zoned area. Either middle- or high-class families mostly reside here, and it's transportation-network relies mostly on ships to get around, but there are some mag-lev mass-transit monorails for the more... affluent... We should consider ourselves in a relatively-safe location compared to the slums that is the Koschtein District... Even though we only made a short fly-by over Koschtein, we outlined that there's a lot of... diversity in that place, I could say without a doubt.
"... And by the way... the señor began having his episodes for a fourth of this part of the day. This particular episode must've been spontaneous, for I didn't observe any of the normal stimuli associated with his daydreaming to have occured. I tried to ask what he was dreaming about... all he told me was that he used to have these fly-byes back at his home-city, Jettison, on Planet Erie, back before his mama... perished."
Her voice gets slighty disappointed, "This last part obviously intrigued me, but before I could get more out of him his episode ended, and he became focused again and was reluctant to reveal more... such a shame... That makes me wonder: how did his mama perish, si? It may possibly be another reason as to why he's depressed.
"After having observed the general overview of the Gottundeim District, we proceeded next to grab a more detailed impression. I and my compadre looked around the local commercial areas, services and shops. This was also another chance that I'd find suitable input-devices for this Journal of mine...
"... Unfortunately, I couldn't find any... too many of unsuitable quality... But I did notice that the señor was quite meticulous about the goods when we went to the machinery, manufacturing and electronics stores... Well, actually he's usually minucioso about everything, but he seemed to be even MORE minucioso when it came to appraising salvage and parts... Hard to believe, but a minute-long lecture on why he needed a TY-series battery cell instead of the more-powerful and efficient PLR-series battery cell for his fusion-cutter with the shop owner should mean something, si? If I didn't know any better, I'd call him a Junker instead of a Zoner in terms of mechanical skill, heheheh...
"Anyway... We found out that many of the stores and malls here are starting to close down... The economic embargo and succeeding depressions on Rheinland's capital are really making their mark. But the ones that do survive, well... They're quickly rising in popularity, like Uzambich Enterprises, which specializes mostly on consumer goods. Though still a small partnership, Uzam's getting pretty popular around the Gottundeim District's residencia... even a few of the higher-class citizens are starting to flock there. Survival of the fittest, I guess?
"We also took note of the various places and people to avoid... Evidently, though not as poor as Koschtein, the Gottundeim District still has its bad eggs: rumor has it that there's a Strip Club sponsored by the Red Hessians somewhere around here, but could be just another story... Fortunately, the Reinschtald Suites is situated a distance away from most of these unfavorable places, so that should help me sleep better at night."
She lets out a long, weary sigh, "... Speaking of which, I'm getting tired... That's all that we've done today, which afterwards we headed back to the hotel to enjoy this hearty dinner of Rheinland Sauerbraten, Schweinshaxe, and other such dishes of weird labels, but still surprisingly-delicioso, as a matter of fact.
"... This is Casini Peneleaus dela Chrisostomo... signing off..."
::::: Ending Entry Recording :::::
::::: Entry 3 Concluded :::::
::::: Log Off? [Y/N] :::::
::::: Logging off :::::
::::: Saving Settings :::::
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Shutting Down :::::
To Fight for a Country that Hates You... (Tigre-Family Stories: First Generation) - Mr.Fabulous - 01-17-2011
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Activated :::::
::::: Audio/Video/Date-Time/Locator/Encryption ::::: on/on/off/off/off
::::: Profile: Casini Peneleaus Chrisostomo :::::
::::: Entry - 11 ::::::
::::: Beginning Entry Recording :::::
![[Image: CasiniFace3.jpg]](http://i914.photobucket.com/albums/ac347/Leonardo619Tigre/Tigre%20Family%20Series/CasiniFace3.jpg)
The image of a face of a woman in her mid-20's appears on the screen. She wore this black jumpsuit, and her green eyes expressed triumphant joy, "Oh! I can see myself! It's working like a charm, señor Leon! Thank you so much for your aid."
The monotonous, ice-cold reply of a man could be heard in the background, his face apparently hidden from view of the camera, "Acknowledged. The input device didn't fit well into the Journal's unit-slot, at first. Attaching the thing served some degree of tediousness. But with the modifications I welded into the camera, I'm certain it'll work just fine."
The woman turns to her right, as if replying back to the man, "What kind of modifications did you install?"
"Nothing too significant... A reattachment of the connector to one that was more suited to your unit-slot, and a few adjustments on the default settings of the devices' programming should limit the capabilities of the camera slightly, but they'd be too little to be of any noticeable impact. Suffice to say, I mostly adapted the input device's external hardware, with only the programming altered to fit the changes." He lectured.
"Well, at least I've got video-input now." She turns back to face the viewscreen, "... Better than nothing, si? But I still need a Universal-Positioning-Tracker, a Digi-Chronological Time-Piece, and a Data-Encrypter."
"A tall order, especially the last one... The first two, though, shouldn't be too hard to find. Probably, they sell those things at Mainz, but as for the Data-Encrypter if you're looking for quality we... that is, you, might just have to ask the Rheinland Military for one."
The woman rolls her eyes, "... What're the chances those muchachos would even think about giving a random Freelancer one of their Encrypters? No, I'll just have to create the device, and its programming, myself."
"Agreed... and I suppose you'd like to enjoy your new updates now? If you need anything else, I'll be available on-call. I'm going around the hotel for a walk, maybe grab a snack or so."
"Another daydreaming-venture? Fine, suit yourself." Footsteps could be heard within the vicinity, and for a moment the image of a man wearing a brown trench-coat lined with lots of zippers and pockets, dark brown cargo pants and black combat boots passes by the viewscreen, his back turned to the camera so as his front was not to be seen as he slid open the door and closed it as he went out.
The woman scratches her chin, "... Now where was I...? Oh right, today's 17 January, 819 A.S., time's at 2257-hours... NOW with some video, huhuhuh... Almost more than two weeks of searching around the place, and we even got to find his office, but we came across with very little evidence as to his new whereabouts... up until now."
She closes her eyes as she heaves in a deep breath, before releasing it and opening her eyes again and beginning in a formal tone, "We met a certain dealer who, although reluctant at first to give up what he knew until we compensated him, gave us his hunch as to where Argus might've headed off to next.
"Apparently, the story went that the man had just finished another dealing with the gofer, and was about to exit the meeting place when he heard Argus' PDA ring out. He eavesdropped on the loud conversation, and heard that the man was to be... transfered... to Planet Holstein, by his superiors. Actually, I think 'transfered''s too kind of a term for how the talk allegedly-went, which was more like deported from his current office, and then kicked to Planet Holstein. Serves the idiota right.
"Unfortunately, that's as far as we got from the dealer... Well, other than the fact he was going to now serve as his superior's spokesman towards the Bundschuch, so si... Our guess is the Budschuch might have some of the answers we seek, but obviously such an approach should be aired with extreme caution... and considering they are one of the Hessians' allies, and would most likely look at Corsairs, let alone myself, in a bad light, probably my compadre would be more suited in talking with the infidels than I."
"So basically, after we pack our things and finalize everything tomorrow we'll be heading off to Planet Holstein. Thankfully, with only several settlements currently running in the Planet, and hopefully, with a little persuasion from the Bundschuch we might just be able to isolate where Argus' current office is located, si?"
She takes in another breath, and her tone gets a bit lighter, "As for my compadre? I'm already getting the hang of mitigating my usage of the specific episode-triggering curse-words, and as a result he's had a reduction of his daydreaming-rate by a remarkable 10%.
"Now, such a number would sound trivial at first glance, but you've got to understand that his episodes sometimes occur at 30-minute intervals! INTERVALS, ay carumba! On average before I started to have some self-control, I'd get around 1-2 episodes every hour that passes! Now it's only down to 1 every hour or two, so si... quite a noticeable improvement, if I do say so myself!"
She pauses for a moment before continuing, "... Speaking of which, I have my compadre to thank for fixing up my journal. Seems he's had some experience in dealing with this type of problem, since he finished the adjustments in a few minutes. I also sometimes still find it hard to comprehend how he manages to fit all the tools he needs within those trench-coat pockets of his: he's got a whole toolbox's-worth of tools, a fusion-cutter and many other stuff in addition to his pistol... He even has a moisture-condenser and a water purifier tucked into one of the outer pockets in the case we run out of water!" She says in disbelief.
"I asked him why he practically carries his whole house with him, and he told me that, back in his Estate, every month he used to go on these week-long trips he calls 'Estate-Expeditions'. He did these trips mainly for the sake of exploring it, describing it to be quite large, and then come back with scrap components he'd use at his own discretion. Before he adopted his dearly-beloved Mila into his family he went off alone on these trips, so on those days he'd have to carry a lot of tools, equipment and supplies, and in the process he decided to create his own tools and equipment with his own miniaturization techniques."
She beams an impressed grin at the monitor, "Heh... makes me wonder just what kind of adventures the señor had in his day, and how he utilized the various toys he carries around with him all the time. AND surprisingly, no episode emerged during his explanations... Must've been great memories to have not sent him into a state of despair... Well, maybe a pause, but he was smiling... if you could call a slight wobble on the lips a smile, so that doesn't count as an episode."
She lets out this long, low yawn, "... I'm sure the señor's got a lot of other stories to tell, but for now, I need some sleep... It's been a long day, and we've got a lot of preparations to do first thing in the morning.
"... This is Casini Peneleaus dela Chrisostomo... signing off..."
::::: Ending Entry Recording :::::
::::: Entry 11 Concluded :::::
::::: Log Off? [Y/N] :::::
::::: Logging off :::::
::::: Saving Settings :::::
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Shutting Down :::::
To Fight for a Country that Hates You... (Tigre-Family Stories: First Generation) - Mr.Fabulous - 02-01-2011
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Activated :::::
::::: Audio/Video/Date-Time/Locator/Encryption ::::: on/on/off/off/off
::::: Profile: Casini Peneleaus Chrisostomo :::::
::::: Entry - 15 ::::::
::::: Beginning Entry Recording :::::
Casini shows up into the viewscreen, her face apparently both relieved and disappointed at the same time, "... Current Date and Time... 01 February, 819 A.S, 2150-hours... Still haven't found any updates for my Video-Journal, despite the fact I've been working alongside Junkers the whole time.
"... Now... I've got some bad news, some good news, and great news! The bad news is that the Junkers we hired several days ago to try and contact the Bundschuch for us to have a suitable and civilized meeting with them have nothing yet to report about their mission. I mean, I know the infidels might be busy, but they would've at least given a reply of NOT wishing to meet for the time being. Instead, the Junkers have nada! I'm starting to think the idiota haven't even lifted a finger to do the job..." She rubs her thumb and index finger on her chin with a deep frown, "... What a waste of 50,000 Credits... Who needs those idiota anyway?"
"The good news is that we've finally accumulated the desired net total of 30,000,000 Credits. Let me telly you, the Combat Service Freighter, the Kirkovich, that we exchanged from the Junker CSV, Volkswagen, was well worth it. The freighter handles well, it is reasonably-spacious, and it has a lot of fancy, advanced hardware that has allowed us to escape unscathed from police checks numerous times as we kept smuggling arms and supplies from Planet New Berlin to Casablanca. The Shipwright who commended me the Kirkovich deserves some praise for his taste for quality, heheheh.
"And with the money we collected from the smuggling, my compadre's been able to recuperate the losses in his life-savings account like buying the Netherwalker, and other such things up until now; and even with those facts we still have 20,000,000 Credits to spare for the future. Si, this surplus cash should keep us floating yet, instead of having to rely on the señor's funds alone." A big, wide grimace is seen on Casini's face.
"... And as for the great news? Turns out that our endeavors managed to attract quite a few notable figures in Rheinland society: the most worthwhile one's this noble named Dhimitriov Holgein, the president of Mezzeishmeit Enterprises, who currently's residing in Planet Holstein, Residential Module 4 for a vacation, which is directly-adjacent to Residential Module 2. Señor Holgien's rumored to have been involved in quite a few... 'low-profile' contracts, and based on reports on how he works from various sources int the underground, it's more likely he's got a job for us that he thinks we're capable doing of in exchange for his cooperation in helping with whatever we desire." She shrugs her shoulders at the viewscreen, "... eh. We probably can do whatever he requires from us, so long as proves useful to us.
"My compadre said señor Holgien's going to contact us soon for further details as to what he desires from us."
She lets out a long sigh of weariness before continuing, "... But as of tonight, I need some sleep. I've just finished collaborating with the mechanic on the repairs on the Kirkovich due to SOMEONE suddenly going through another sad, spontaneous episode and engaging the autopilot to head straight through one of the hazardous explosive gas pockets. Ay, carumba, it was a good thing I mananged to divert most power to shield-strength and only enough for propulsion just before we entered the pockets, or else our pathetic, miserable lives would've ended right then and there." She rolls her eyes, crookedly smiling back at the view-screen.
"... This is Casini Peneleus dela Chrisostomo... signing off..."
::::: Ending Entry Recording :::::
::::: Entry 15 Concluded :::::
::::: Log Off? [Y/N] :::::
::::: Logging off :::::
::::: Saving Settings :::::
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Shutting Down :::::
To Fight for a Country that Hates You... (Tigre-Family Stories: First Generation) - Mr.Fabulous - 04-18-2011
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Activated :::::
::::: Audio/Video/Date-Time/Locator/Encryption ::::: on/on/off/on/off
::::: Profile: Casini Peneleaus Chrisostomo :::::
::::: Entry - 16 ::::::
::::: Planet Stuttgart, Stuttgart System, Rheinland Colony :::::
::::: Beginning Entry Recording :::::
"Current Date and Time..." Casini appears on the monitor, looking at something off-screen for a brief moment before going back to the camera, "... 27 of March, 818 A.S., 1956-hours. It's been more than a month since that bureaucrat, Dhimitriov Holgein, would've received our plea for a meeting, and we've been waiting... patiently... the whole time for a reply. Unfortunately, he hasn't yet contacted us as of today... Probably he didn't get the message, or..." She looks to her left and right, and, figuring she was alone, continued, "... the infidel caught word of our intentions, and has decided to shadow us instead. But frankly, I don't think he knows this: my opinion's that he's just the cautious sort, and he's denied us of his presence, thinking we'd just assassinate him or something equally gruesome. Totally understandable, but nevertheless irritating. If we don't get word from him soon, we might either be running onto more cold tracks, or we're going to be placed in more mortal danger."
She grins darkly to herself, "... And frankly, I wouldn't mind if he sent some locos after our heads. Let them come... I could use the skill-sharpener after all of these times undergoing boring smuggling and trading."
Casini sighs tiredly to herself, "... Ugh... Been a slow time for me and my compadre. Though we've been slowly garnering the respect from the infidel-ssians and other Rheinland loco-wfuls, there've only been sparse info on Argus dela Bolsteirne. I don't think he's gone into hiding, however: my hunch is he's just inactive, probably in vacation or somesuch.
"Why, you would ask, would I make such an assumption? Cause most of the current sparse-info's mostly of a... personal nature." She chuckled to herself, "... The idiota never even knew one of his current clients wished to make passionate love to him, and she was fairly-attractive to boot... Men." Then she rolls her eyes, "... Well, at least she pointed us towards Planet Baden Baden as a possible place he could be staying.
"... By the way, I've just found out what happened to my compadre's mammy. He explained that the Great Spirits, or in common terms the Nomads, or in his version, blue-daemon-hellspawn-of-total-destruction, were responsible for not only infecting his pappy during his childhood, leaving him without a father for much of his life, but they also used the man to kill his mammy when he was 16..." She frowns a bit, "... A terrible set of circumstances... Admittedly, if put into his shoes, I guess I would also call the Great Spirits [A.D.M.I.N. censored]-licking [A.D.M.I.N. censored], si?
"Seems like I and Señor Leonardo share such suffering... but..." She gives out a long sigh before continuing, "... Unlike he, my enemy's still part of the Imperio: he's still essentially my amigo. At least my compadre has an easier time fulfilling out his vendetta, for the Great Spirits are not of our flesh and blood... But as for me? To fulfill my vendetta I might have to shame my family honor from the Imperio...
"Yet..." Her eyes get colder, and her tone turns darker, "... What honor does that infidel deserve? He killed my pappy, a man who was entirely-dedicated to the Corsario. By our law, he would've already been crucified a long time ago, but NO...! He has the influence to pinpoint the finger on me, and I had little evidence to prove his transgression, compared to my own attempt of escaping his grasp through the crippling of his Gunboat..."
Casini places her face on her hand, "... Ugh... What a situation I have been placed in. Unable to return to the Imperio. To be at risk of assassination by a corrupt Corsario. To be indirectly-exiled by my own amigos for a crime I did not commit..."
She lifts her head to look back at the camera, "... Well, what else can I do but restore justice to the name of my pappy? Also, I know how Casus ticks: he won't be using his spy within the Hessian infidels for the Imperio. He'll most likely use it for his own ends, eliminating his rival amigos through false information and intel on Hessian movements before they even knew what hit them, or even providing the Hessians themselves on classified information and patrol routes. If I could just find evidence of this, I'll be one step closer to finding a way to bringing Casus down without staining my own honor...
"... But one step at a time, si? Tomorrow, we're going to smuggle some new recruits for the 'Hessian cause' from Planet Hamburg, and onto Casablanca. With this, we'll get a good word amongst the Hessians so we could delve deeper into their gofer transactions, and eventually lead to Argus... and onto Casus' spy." She gives an evil grin.
"This is Casini Peneleaus dela Chrisostomo... signing off..."
::::: Ending Entry Recording :::::
::::: Entry 16 Concluded :::::
::::: Log Off? [Y/N] :::::
::::: Logging off :::::
::::: Saving Settings :::::
::::: Journal Unit J-01-P0025 Shutting Down :::::
To Fight for a Country that Hates You... (Tigre-Family Stories: First Generation) - Mr.Fabulous - 11-05-2011
The ex-Corsair, finishing with Entry 16, lowers her Journal Unit down to her side. She puffs out a tired sigh to herself: it's been an almost-fruitless month in her search for that gofer, and most of the info she's been able to gather was from word-of-mouth, not cold, hard facts. She was beginning to suspect the gofer may have caught on with their plans, and that he was now on the run: a very high possibility, considering their attempts at becoming accepted amongst the Rheinland unlawfuls occasionally resulted in them doing some high-profile missions, which was what they LEAST wanted to do in a situation as slick as this...
A *knock knock knock* suddenly came on the bedroom door, which only served to increase her tension. Casini looks up and, taking out her pistol, she motions over to the door and carefully views through the peep-hole: grande, it was just Leonardo Tigre standing outside. After she unlocks the door's safety-mechanism and opens it, the Zoner steps inside and gives the Corsair a quick nod... and a slight smile! "I've got some good news, Ms. Chrisostomo." He began in his usual monotonous voice.
Casini widens her eyes a bit: in a situation as slick as this, good news was always welcome to her ears. Hopefully, she wished silently to herself, this information'll turn up of some use, "That so? What've you got, compadre?"
He dug his left hand down the right-hand underside of his trench-coat, and when his hand finally came out it produced in its grasp something remarkable: a golf-ball-sized Blood Diamond, the Hessian insignia engraved onto one of the larger facets surrounding the brilliant-red gem, "While I was walking downtown, a shady man intentionally bumped into me. As we made contact, I saw he was subtly offering in his hand this gem," he gives the item to Casini, who quickly plucks it away from him and appraises it with careful detail, "and, as he placed the gem on my hands, he motioned over to my ear and whispered, 'The Goddess smiles on you. Herr Holgien has called the Bundschuch to listen. You may meet their representative above Ingolstadt, within 24 hours. Greet him with the words, -Long Live Herr Holgien-.' I came here as quickly as I could afterwards."
The Corsair could scarcely believe it! It was a genuine Blood Diamond, and with the Hessian insignia to boot! Only a stupid fool... or a true revolutionary, would ever be caught DEAD with one of these thi---
"Waaaiiiit..." A thought quickly crosses Casini's mind, "... This thing isn't---"
"Rigged, is that what you meant?" Leonardo quickly interrupts her before she could finish. He takes out another item from underneath his large trenchcoat: a smooth, cane-shaped metal rod with a tiny aperture on the flat end, which seemed to also contain small white dots that ran down the curved side.
He places it on his right ear, which seemed to fit perfectly on the lobe, and a few milliseconds pass before the object lights up and activates. A beam of light quickly shoots out from the aperture, the rays coalescing into a flat, translucent-orange panel directly in front of his right eye. Soon, various texts, images and other things ran down the screen, as if the device were still booting up; the letters and data were too small for Casini to read from a distance, but of which Leonardo could see plainly. When it was finished, the screen simply becomes a blank, see-through panel.
The Zoner then turns his eye to look at the Blood Diamond, and as quickly as his gaze turned a fine reticle pops up on the screen, which moves in-sync with the guy's retina. When his gaze met the gem, the reticle locks onto the object, and another beam of light shoots out of the aperture and begins 'scanning' it with rays of light that seemed to pierce through the object. As it continued scanning, numerous text references and illustrations pop up one after another on the tiny screen, identifying the gem in its' entirety, "I've already taken the liberty of scanning the object in advance while I was still coming here, and the readings are exactly the same. The elements of the gem do not suggest any form of tracking device nor of tampering aside from the photon-printed engraving: for better or worse, this is the real deal... A genuine Blood Diamond, its' composition suggesting it originated from the treacherous mining fields of Omega-11."
The device then suddenly stops its scans, and without further warning, deactivates, the screen vanishing into thin air. Leonardo takes the band out from his ear and discards it back into the pocket from whence it came, "To tell you honestly, I am surprised as much as you are: I've only heard rumors that the Hessians use these types of gems as one of several different methods of identifying each other. This could mean either two things: First, that the Hessians have finally agreed to cooperate with us, and have decided to hand us a tangible proof of good-will..."
Then Leonardo's eyes glint, "... or, with a more cynical view of things..."
"... That someone..." Casini continued darkly from his short pause, "or that some infidels wish to capture us through indirect means via planting false proof that we are sided with the Hessians, and then tipping local authorities to our possession of this object, is that what you're saying?" She angrily tightens the fist around the gem she held.
The two slowly, but casually, move away from the view of the window and, standing along the edges of the glass, cautiously scan the outside to look for any signs that they were being watched, "Precisely...
"... But my gut says this is not likely the circumstance we have." After seeing none of the usual signs of being watched, Leonardo then turns the lights on and increases the window's opacity-levels to block any viewing from the inside or out; he soon regains his composure and sits on the bed, calming down while scratching his chin thoughtfully, "Dhimitriov may simply have been too preoccupied with his own matters to not favor a direct meeting with us. Perhaps he was under too much suspicion to not warrant a clean reply for our appointment, and was forced to send a representative on his behalf. The man said a Bundschuch representative is now waiting at Ingolstadt, so Dhimitriov may had had already contacted the movement."
"A likely possibility, compadre." Casini also sits on the bed, but on the rim directly opposite to that of Leonardo's, her body facing the other way as she further contemplates half to herself, "I would've preferred it that he had contacted us via Transmission... But I suppose the Comm Channel could also be intercepted via a third party, so si, this is possibly his best means of contacting us without any compromisation...
"... But I have to ask, how DID the representative manage to find you, compadre, amongst a sea of people?"
The Zoner shrugs his shoulders with a slight smile, "Anyone linked to the Neural Net has a chance of being found... Which all the more---"
He abruptly stops from finishing his sentence before sighing sadly to himself, "... Which... all the more troubles me to know that... that Mila... still remains missing... even until now... that she's..." and with that, he suddenly falls silent. He slouches forward on the bed, another puff of breath escaping his mouth.
Casini turns around and, seeing that her companion was slipping into another emotional-moment, rolls her eyes and disgustedly grunts, "... You are pathetic, you know that? With all of your seriousness and coolness and combat prowess, you sure are emotionally-crippled to the point that it even affects your ability to think straight. Pfah... And I thought hombre's were supposed to be the stronger and more adamant of the genders."
"Well, forgive me for bitterly-sulking over my entire family that I've lost at the hands of blood-thirsty aliens..." The Zoner snarles back.
"That's the point! You're NOT supposed to sulk this long, and only crying over things like a prissy, little boy isn't going do anything other than make you look weak, exposed, and easy to kill..." The Corsair stands up from the bed and continues barking at him, "... and those that are easy to kill will ALWAYS find the other end of the gun to be the last thing they'll ever see through their pathetic, infidel existence. If you wish to continue on living and breathing, compadre, I suggest you get over your pain quickly, or at least redirect all that pain into something more productive, like the enemy, because I don't need a co-pilot that suddenly blacks out in the heat of intense combat."
The Zoner's hands tighten into two, heavy fists of anger, and he clenches his teeth into a furious growl. Her words were arrogant, and they hurt his pride a LOT. It would've been so easy and satisfying to gut that wench right then and there: she was a pirate anyway, so who'd miss her? In fact, he would've been praised by the Military if he decided to take her down...
... but...
"... You're right." He slowly lets his anger fade away, his jaw relaxing from its' tension, his fists slowly loosening up and unfurl onto the bed. He decides against taking her down since, after all, she did have a point: he had let his bitterness get the better of him, he realized, and knew that unless he was willing to control his situation (or at least bottled up such thoughts for a more appropriate time to sulk) he wouldn't be able to get anywhere, nor achieve anything. Had he really forgotten what Mila taught him all those weeks... no, months ago?
----------FLASHBACK
Quote:"... Meep... That was a good laugh, brother. You always did act all formal, serious and emotionless around people, and seeing you smile and enjoy yourself like that just for the sake of it always makes me feel even happier every time you do so, meep..."
He places a reluctant arm over her shoulders as he replied in a kind tone, "... Yeah... I did say you're the one who taught me how to laugh again, didn't I? I've got to thank you for that someday, Mila..."
FLASHBACK----------
"Damn, STRAIGHT!" Casini pats the suit off of its' creases and continued, "Learn to be more thick-skinned of loss, Señor Tigre, or it'll be your downfall, one way or another."
She lets out a quick sigh, "... Now... We'll have to leave first thing tomorrow, since we've only got 22 hours left. I'll contact reception that we'll be leaving early. We'll head off towards Ingolstadt without another moment's notice. Make sure you aren't followed when we meet at the desk."
"Acknowledged." Leonardo gives a quick nod at the Corsair before quickly exiting the bedroom, leaving Casini to herself.
She places a palm on her face in frustration and muttered, "... He'd better improve..." But as the hand slid down her cheeks, her expression changed from that of being upset... to one showing pity and remorse. A long and heavy sigh escaped her lips as the arm simply limped to the side. After pausing for a few moments, she unzips her black flight suit slightly, opening her collar a bit, and revealing a small, round locket that hung from her neck.
She lifts the locket to eye-level and, with a click, opens the casing that revealed the small photo of a 40-something man with black hair, powerfully-gaunt jaw, pinkish-white skin, and gleaming-yellow eyes, featuring a stern and frank expression on his face. She looks at this face for what seems like eternity... the memories of the life she once had were slowly flooding back...
----------FLASHBACK
Quote:"... What'cha gonna do? Cry 'till your papito comes to your rescue?" A boy, who was backed up by a couple of other teenagers, insults the downed Casini, who's mouth was now tasting blood from that last punch he did, "You just don't get it, do you?"
Her fighting-spirit almost broken, she was just about to resign and slump down the floor from the beating she experienced from being outnumbered when she glanced to the right...
... and there she saw her papito standing some distance away from the fight, his powerful arms folded against themselves, his face seemed disgusted from looking at his girl... a stare that seemed to say, 'Is that all you've got?'
Then he does a quick whip of his head, implying that she had to hurry up with what she was doing... and that simple gesture apparently gave the downtrodden girl some weird form of inner strength, as if she was still believed on that she could take on these boys despite her disadvantage.
"I'M the one running the show, NOT you, peon!" The leader of that small gang was just about to land the last blow when Casini quickly rose up and kicked him squarely in the soft-spot.
Caught completely off-guard, the boy doubles back and falls quickly to the ground, still clutching his compromised manhood with a long gurgle of pain. The other two boys, seeing their mate downed and out, growl furiously and waste no time in rushing at the stricken girl, and the fight so began again...
... and though being outnumbered 2-to-1, after several minutes she barely manages to disable the other two boys.
With three boys lying in turmoil behind her, she limps back to her papito with a smile on her face, albeit her lips being bruised and inflated and bloodied from the brawl. But instead of doing something welcoming, Viciente puts a knuckle on her head and swipes a hard, painful scratch, "Pfah! Your counter-attacks are still sloppy and predictable, your jabs were hooks, while your hooks were roundhouses, yeesh! It's no wonder those three estupido's were able to take you down. When we get home, we'll have to redouble--- no, reTRIPLE your training. I don't want to have a kid that fights this pathetic."
Casini moans at how much more hard work she'll need to do to satisfy papito's infamously-known perfectionism. But as she looks up to him, she could see a smile slowly beaming from his face, "... Well, at least your feints are improving. Knowing how to trick the enemy into thinking you are weak before going in for the kill is also an equal asset. For that ONLY, I commend you."
Praise from her papito? Well now, THAT was something to be proud of! Though she knew she still had a long way to go, to receive praise from a man such as he was a very good indicator that she was on the right track. She couldn't help but smile inwardly to herself, despite realizing her body was screaming with pain all over...
FLASHBACK----------
... A single tear ran down the side of her cheek as she closes the locket and grasps it with a clenched hand, "... I will avenge you, papito... The name of the Chrisostomos shall be given its justice... I will not disappoint you."