Subeh
john rebelrp
- Joined
- Apr 26, 2016
- Messages
- 8,577
- Nebulae
- 34,837
November 21st, 2374;
330 years after the last sighting of Combine forces ever recorded.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Two men, both in their early twenties, enter through the cut fence line of an abandoned archaeological dig site somewhere in Europe.
One of the men wears dark green. The other wears black. Both have their faces concealed and the man in green fiddles with a small recording device.
".. the date's November twenty-first, twenty-three seventy-four. We're at the abandoned dig site in-"
"Motherfucker, are you actually recording this? This shit's illegal, the fuck is wrong with you?"
The two men peer at each other, with the one in black scoffing at the one in green.
"Nobody's gonna' see this shit, man. It's.. for my own project, okay? You know how much this shit means to me-"
".. shutcho' stupid ass up and keep moving. You better remember where this damn room is, you ain't been here in weeks."
"I remember where it is, asshole."
Sticking close, the men navigate through frigid temperatures, dark hallways, snowed-in rooms and across floors that are barely staying together.
Soon, they come across a larger room; one with a pit in the center and a spiralling elevator that takes them down into the abyss.
"Yeah. I can do it. Just chill. Hand me the fuckin' kit already, will you? God damn."
The man in green offers the man in black a rectangular case, which is angrily snatched by the latter.
Pair of metallic clips undone, he's soon to unveil the interior; a series of tools, dials, and other futuristic devices.
The world isn't like it was over three hundred years ago; none of the 'current day' technology would bare resemblance to that of the old.
. . .
Pair of metallic clips undone, he's soon to unveil the interior; a series of tools, dials, and other futuristic devices.
The world isn't like it was over three hundred years ago; none of the 'current day' technology would bare resemblance to that of the old.
. . .
".. alright, I got it. Let's get the fuck down there so we can leave-"
"Chill. You'll know what I mean when you see it."
Both stepping onto the elevator, they soon descended. The trip down took more than ten minutes by itself.
Once down there, they came across a network of caverns; made up entirely of black ice.
Both of the men flicked on head torches.
"It's just down here. We won't have to go far, just.. watch the floor. It's really unstable in spots. You can tell by-"Once down there, they came across a network of caverns; made up entirely of black ice.
Both of the men flicked on head torches.
".. I know, Jord', I know; fuck. You're actin' like I ain't done this a million times- these caves aren't all that uncommon, you know that!"
"Alright, alright. Jesus- we're in the clear now, why're you so jumpy?"
".. because this shit's ILLEGAL, you fuckin' moron- you know how long they'd put us in onna' the 'centres if they found us down here?"
Ultimately dismissive of each other, the two men shook their heads and continued down a steady decline; further into the black ice caverns.
. . .
Twenty minutes of walking later, they soon shine their lights onto an old, dark, metal hallway protruding from the ice; the metal itself darker than all.
"SEE? I told you it was down here, dumbass! I'm tellin' you- it's the same metal they found in America a week or so back. It looks identical!". . .
Twenty minutes of walking later, they soon shine their lights onto an old, dark, metal hallway protruding from the ice; the metal itself darker than all.
".. fuckin' hell- you gotta' be kidding me, man- how the fuck did you FIND this?"
"Came down here with Jess. We were walking through the upper ruins, right-"
"..rhetorical. Just show me what you found, I still wanna' get outta' here-"
The man in green sighs and the pair of them enter the hallway.
. . .
It was a long walk in almost total darkness.
But, after a left turn and then a right, they came across a dark metal door; striped, some pieces darker than others. It's half open.
Both of them get onto all fours and descend below the open gap.
Inside, they find a large room; wider than an airliner and longer than three football fields. It's lined with machinery; large, unknown to them both.
"It's at the other end.". . .
It was a long walk in almost total darkness.
But, after a left turn and then a right, they came across a dark metal door; striped, some pieces darker than others. It's half open.
Both of them get onto all fours and descend below the open gap.
Inside, they find a large room; wider than an airliner and longer than three football fields. It's lined with machinery; large, unknown to them both.
".. the fuck IS all of this, Jord'? Are you sure it's fuckin' safe down here? You know all the stories, dude- the stories of those old synths-"
"Trust me, nothing's down here. I've checked. We're safe, I promise."
Venturing to the other side of the room, they soon come across a larger, thicker door; one that's slid slightly to the left.
After passing through, they come across an old, abandoned control room...
... the floor is littered with frozen corpses; ancient corpses, frozen in the dark ice that leaks through the walls.
After passing through, they come across an old, abandoned control room...
... the floor is littered with frozen corpses; ancient corpses, frozen in the dark ice that leaks through the walls.
".. holy fuck. Nah- nah, fuck this, man- no way- nah-"
"Relax! Just.. just give me the fucking thing you bought so I can get what I came here for!"
The man in black suspiciously eyes his companion.
Putting aside his evident mistrust, he soon reaches for his belt; bringing out and unfolding a small rod, no larger than a pencil once unfolded.
It's handed to the one in green.
That man in green lowers himself down to a knee, nearby a particular corpse stuck in the ice. A woman; features obscured by the ice itself.
That pencil-like rod is pressed against the ice before he jabs his thumb into the back of it, causing a sharp spike to penetrate the ice.
It shatters and falls away, revealing the frozen woman's static hand...
..and in that hand, is a device; an ancient one.
To them; a relic. To us? A USB.
"Alright, alright- I got it. This' all I needed- we can leave, just like I said."Putting aside his evident mistrust, he soon reaches for his belt; bringing out and unfolding a small rod, no larger than a pencil once unfolded.
It's handed to the one in green.
That man in green lowers himself down to a knee, nearby a particular corpse stuck in the ice. A woman; features obscured by the ice itself.
That pencil-like rod is pressed against the ice before he jabs his thumb into the back of it, causing a sharp spike to penetrate the ice.
It shatters and falls away, revealing the frozen woman's static hand...
..and in that hand, is a device; an ancient one.
To them; a relic. To us? A USB.
".. the fuck even is that, man?"
The two men soon retreat back the way they came.
They speak along the way.
"All I know is that it's a storage device of some kind. That's all. I think I can access it, I just need to get it home."They speak along the way.
"What the fuck do you think's even going to be on it?"
"I don't know. But whatever it is, that woman wanted to keep ahold of it even when she died. It MUST be important."
".. alright. You better give me credit when you get rich off that shit-"
Both of them heartily laugh.
The one in green eyes down at the USB clasped in his fingers, staring at it with glee, anxiety and fear.
A squint to his eyelids ensues and he flips it over, peering at an engraving on its opposite side.
...'Cecilia K', it reads.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The man in green, 'Jord', was soon to return to his abode; a comfortable, mid-class apartment in one of the many sprawling cities.
It's far from the dig site. He travelled to get to it.
Now alone, he spent hours reconfiguring his software to make this archaic device properly usable.
But, he did.
With butterflies in his stomach and a dumb smile on his face, he soon hooked up the USB into a custom port he himself scratched together.
After waiting a few seconds for it all to open, he sat back in his chair.
It plays.
'Jord' just.. sat there.
Stunned.
To know that he had just heard a voice from over 350 years ago was... baffling.
To hear all these names.. and these organisations; all of them so long after their very existence.
It took him several moments to convince himself it was even real.
It wouldn't be long before he kept listening.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jord's state of disbelief never faded.
But; it did take a backseat.
Intrigue took over.
Leaning forward in his seat, he selected the next file with a wave of his hand.
The one in green eyes down at the USB clasped in his fingers, staring at it with glee, anxiety and fear.
A squint to his eyelids ensues and he flips it over, peering at an engraving on its opposite side.
...'Cecilia K', it reads.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The man in green, 'Jord', was soon to return to his abode; a comfortable, mid-class apartment in one of the many sprawling cities.
It's far from the dig site. He travelled to get to it.
Now alone, he spent hours reconfiguring his software to make this archaic device properly usable.
But, he did.
With butterflies in his stomach and a dumb smile on his face, he soon hooked up the USB into a custom port he himself scratched together.
After waiting a few seconds for it all to open, he sat back in his chair.
It plays.
There's some initial shuffling in the background.
Papers scratch, some metal scraping ensues not long after.
There's a minor echo to it all.
Then, a pause.
"... hello."
It was Cecilia's voice to be sure.
"Forgive my.. awkwardness. I've never spoken to myself like this before."
. . .
"My name is Cecilia Karass. The date is the twenty-nineth of April, twenty-twenty-three . I'm the founder, and current leader, of Due North. It's a..-"
A pause. A sigh.
Cecilia clears her throat.
"... I'm recording this as a sort of 'journal'. I don't like writing, I only do it for the sake of formalities whenever I'm requesting a new shipment of lord-knows-what from Lambda. I've found myself, over the last few weeks, growing.. angrier. My temper is harder to keep. I hate it. I want to be rid of it; it's far too toxic for my consciousness."
. . .
"Over the course of the last month, during my time in the Ukrainian tunnel systems, I've been forming a plan to unify the Genevan cells- Due North, PMKO, Orsted, Armbands- all of them. Two days after my arrival, I managed to get the PMKO and Orsted to agree; an agreement they hold firm even now. I am, however, still waiting to hear from the Armbands.. something that has stricken me with anxiety I've never had before. It's a horrible feeling. The uncertainty, the unknown; not knowing if a month's worth of thought, planning, and careful string-pulling will arrive at the conclusion I wish it to."
. . .
Another sigh pre-empts the next sentence.
"Kross, Elizabeth- or erh- Blue- and another man... Hozan. Yes, that's his name- he's an Arab; one of the first I've met, actually. They are the three members of the Armbands that I spoke to on the matter of unification; though I imagine it's reached the ears of them all by now. Elizabeth, she's.. not what I expected, in truth; this is the first time I've spoke to her properly, and it confused me to see somebody so jovial and happy be the leader of what is-... well. They're known as the 'transhumans of the resistance'- not literally, just in skill. I admit, I wasn't sure how seriously she took my proposition. It worries me."
. . .
"Kross, well.. I've known her for some time. She tries. Of all the Armbands, she's made the most attempts- that I know of- to get them to.. branch out, to see past their naivety and their reluctance. Back in the metro- in Ukraine- I made an attempt to bring the Armbands into Due North, and she was the hand that extended between me and the rest of the Armbands.. but she failed to convince them. It was one of the most disheartening moments I'd ever felt. I still feel weak knowing I cried after that conversation."
. . .
"Hozan.. he gives me hope for this unification. Knowing he was once one of us- albeit, in my absence- at least gives me hope that he's more open than the rest of them. I felt a radiant pride from that man, when I spoke to him- and a deep sense of respect. It made me smile; it made me feel a sense of pride in myself I admit I hadn't felt in a little while. He spoke to me as though I were somebody he'd looked forward to meeting, and I greatly appreciated that. I truly, truly hope he can get into their heads and convince them to do what's right for the rest of us."
. . .
There's a long pause, then; about 15 seconds' worth.
"That month was a harsh one. In my wake, I left Cy and Hyun to run things in my absence. They did as well as they could have."
. . .
"Cy wasn't built for the sort of work that I asked her to do. It left her stressed beyond all belief; especially considering the petty dramas she finds herself embroiled in far too often. I know, without a hint of a doubt, that the façade of the 'brutish, unmoving soldier' Cy puts on is nothing more than that; a mask, no less of one than the physical one she wears near constantly. Beneath all of that is a troubled, scared, deeply disturbed woman that I want nothing more than to help. I love her like I would love a sister. The way she closes herself in annoys me- but in a way, I envy it. That being said.. she did open herself up to me not long ago. I appreciated it. Hearing the words finally come out of her mouth- ones she meant, ones that weren't trying to ward me away like she had in the tunnels- it meant the world to me. I can only hope she continues it."
. . .
"Hyun, on the other hand, has one of the strongest resolves I've ever seen in a human being. I look up at that tower of a man and I see nothing but a wall, ready to take any bombardment that could come at him. I respect it immensely, and I know he respects me. It's all I could ask for- in not only a soldier, but in a friend. I still remember during the tunnels that he sat there with me, after I witnessed Orsted's failed plan which led to the deaths of dozens, and comforted me; me, somebody who was meant to be a leading figure above him. In a way, he feels like a brother; an older brother. I can only hope that he has the faith in me that I instil in him."
. . .
Some rustling ensues in the background, followed by another pause. She contemplates.
"Another man I'd like to.. mention, I spose', is Masum."
. . .
"When I interact with the others in this fighting force of ours, I.. sometimes feel as though many of them don't take the time to stop- to consider, to think- to rationalise, to see the bigger picture beyond the scope of their eyes. Masum isn't one of those people. Despite our rockiness recently, we never fail to have deep conversations about the delicacies of the situations we find ourselves in- arriving at conclusions that I, without a hint of a doubt, feel better each and every single time knowing I've arrived at them. I feel that many people mistake him with the greater Lambda, when- in actuality- I think the threads that bind him to Lambda are moral only; he agrees with their morals, but little else. Maybe that's just my misconception, however. I feel the man, on occasion, may take things far more personally than he needs to; that, though, is something we're all guilty of periodically. I can't blame him. I trust the man- I do.. I just worry that, with this unification on the horizon, he and I may clash yet again... at least I know that if we do, we can speak on it- rationally- as we should."
. . .
Cecilia's voice grew hoarse throughout that last lot of speech.
She was soon to clear her throat yet again, emitting a deep and shaky sigh.
"A lot is going through my mind right now. Too much to speak on in one hit. My throat's dry, I'm.. going to get some water, now. I can speak more later."
Papers scratch, some metal scraping ensues not long after.
There's a minor echo to it all.
Then, a pause.
"... hello."
It was Cecilia's voice to be sure.
"Forgive my.. awkwardness. I've never spoken to myself like this before."
. . .
"My name is Cecilia Karass. The date is the twenty-nineth of April, twenty-twenty-three . I'm the founder, and current leader, of Due North. It's a..-"
A pause. A sigh.
Cecilia clears her throat.
"... I'm recording this as a sort of 'journal'. I don't like writing, I only do it for the sake of formalities whenever I'm requesting a new shipment of lord-knows-what from Lambda. I've found myself, over the last few weeks, growing.. angrier. My temper is harder to keep. I hate it. I want to be rid of it; it's far too toxic for my consciousness."
. . .
"Over the course of the last month, during my time in the Ukrainian tunnel systems, I've been forming a plan to unify the Genevan cells- Due North, PMKO, Orsted, Armbands- all of them. Two days after my arrival, I managed to get the PMKO and Orsted to agree; an agreement they hold firm even now. I am, however, still waiting to hear from the Armbands.. something that has stricken me with anxiety I've never had before. It's a horrible feeling. The uncertainty, the unknown; not knowing if a month's worth of thought, planning, and careful string-pulling will arrive at the conclusion I wish it to."
. . .
Another sigh pre-empts the next sentence.
"Kross, Elizabeth- or erh- Blue- and another man... Hozan. Yes, that's his name- he's an Arab; one of the first I've met, actually. They are the three members of the Armbands that I spoke to on the matter of unification; though I imagine it's reached the ears of them all by now. Elizabeth, she's.. not what I expected, in truth; this is the first time I've spoke to her properly, and it confused me to see somebody so jovial and happy be the leader of what is-... well. They're known as the 'transhumans of the resistance'- not literally, just in skill. I admit, I wasn't sure how seriously she took my proposition. It worries me."
. . .
"Kross, well.. I've known her for some time. She tries. Of all the Armbands, she's made the most attempts- that I know of- to get them to.. branch out, to see past their naivety and their reluctance. Back in the metro- in Ukraine- I made an attempt to bring the Armbands into Due North, and she was the hand that extended between me and the rest of the Armbands.. but she failed to convince them. It was one of the most disheartening moments I'd ever felt. I still feel weak knowing I cried after that conversation."
. . .
"Hozan.. he gives me hope for this unification. Knowing he was once one of us- albeit, in my absence- at least gives me hope that he's more open than the rest of them. I felt a radiant pride from that man, when I spoke to him- and a deep sense of respect. It made me smile; it made me feel a sense of pride in myself I admit I hadn't felt in a little while. He spoke to me as though I were somebody he'd looked forward to meeting, and I greatly appreciated that. I truly, truly hope he can get into their heads and convince them to do what's right for the rest of us."
. . .
There's a long pause, then; about 15 seconds' worth.
"That month was a harsh one. In my wake, I left Cy and Hyun to run things in my absence. They did as well as they could have."
. . .
"Cy wasn't built for the sort of work that I asked her to do. It left her stressed beyond all belief; especially considering the petty dramas she finds herself embroiled in far too often. I know, without a hint of a doubt, that the façade of the 'brutish, unmoving soldier' Cy puts on is nothing more than that; a mask, no less of one than the physical one she wears near constantly. Beneath all of that is a troubled, scared, deeply disturbed woman that I want nothing more than to help. I love her like I would love a sister. The way she closes herself in annoys me- but in a way, I envy it. That being said.. she did open herself up to me not long ago. I appreciated it. Hearing the words finally come out of her mouth- ones she meant, ones that weren't trying to ward me away like she had in the tunnels- it meant the world to me. I can only hope she continues it."
. . .
"Hyun, on the other hand, has one of the strongest resolves I've ever seen in a human being. I look up at that tower of a man and I see nothing but a wall, ready to take any bombardment that could come at him. I respect it immensely, and I know he respects me. It's all I could ask for- in not only a soldier, but in a friend. I still remember during the tunnels that he sat there with me, after I witnessed Orsted's failed plan which led to the deaths of dozens, and comforted me; me, somebody who was meant to be a leading figure above him. In a way, he feels like a brother; an older brother. I can only hope that he has the faith in me that I instil in him."
. . .
Some rustling ensues in the background, followed by another pause. She contemplates.
"Another man I'd like to.. mention, I spose', is Masum."
. . .
"When I interact with the others in this fighting force of ours, I.. sometimes feel as though many of them don't take the time to stop- to consider, to think- to rationalise, to see the bigger picture beyond the scope of their eyes. Masum isn't one of those people. Despite our rockiness recently, we never fail to have deep conversations about the delicacies of the situations we find ourselves in- arriving at conclusions that I, without a hint of a doubt, feel better each and every single time knowing I've arrived at them. I feel that many people mistake him with the greater Lambda, when- in actuality- I think the threads that bind him to Lambda are moral only; he agrees with their morals, but little else. Maybe that's just my misconception, however. I feel the man, on occasion, may take things far more personally than he needs to; that, though, is something we're all guilty of periodically. I can't blame him. I trust the man- I do.. I just worry that, with this unification on the horizon, he and I may clash yet again... at least I know that if we do, we can speak on it- rationally- as we should."
. . .
Cecilia's voice grew hoarse throughout that last lot of speech.
She was soon to clear her throat yet again, emitting a deep and shaky sigh.
"A lot is going through my mind right now. Too much to speak on in one hit. My throat's dry, I'm.. going to get some water, now. I can speak more later."
Stunned.
To know that he had just heard a voice from over 350 years ago was... baffling.
To hear all these names.. and these organisations; all of them so long after their very existence.
It took him several moments to convince himself it was even real.
It wouldn't be long before he kept listening.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jord's state of disbelief never faded.
But; it did take a backseat.
Intrigue took over.
Leaning forward in his seat, he selected the next file with a wave of his hand.
".. alright, Cecilia. I hear you. I'm listening."
A momentary pause prefaces the audio file.
It hangs long enough to make you wonder if the file's even played properly.
".. hello. Again."
And there it is.
Cecilia's voice shivers; be it with emotion, the cold or both - it shudders.
"Much has happened since I last spoke. And I'd be lying if I said any of it was good."
. . .
"The unification has fallen apart."
A pause.
Then a sigh. A deep one.
"It begun with the Armbands- Elizabeth's fucking letter; the letter that read like a child declining an invitation to their friend's birthday party. Usually I'm forgiving of informality, but this time, it was.. insulting. I felt myself deflate like a damn balloon when I read it. And that's not even mentioning contents thoroughly- they 'don't want to be involved in the politics'- you've got to be kidding me, right? You DARE to put a firearm in your hands and think that you can just spend your days ignoring the politics? And not only that, you OPENLY ADMIT you would cause infighting? If you, by your own admittance, are that much of a match to a fuse; then why the hell are you here?!"
. . .
An inhale is taken through her teeth. You can hear it.
"And then there's Orsted. I expected far more of Zhao. Having heard his and the others' agreement - a swift one, at that - I was beyond confident that I had their support. Beyond. And yet, at the very last second, I'm sent a notice of..- abandonment. Nothing short of it. At the very last second- when all the plans had been laid, when the foundation was already there, when so many people had already spoken about it as if it were already a thing- Orsted pulls out of it. My disappointment in both Zhao and Harland is..- no. It's not even disappointment. It's anger. I'm infuriated, and insulted, that they'd do this- that they'd leave it as long as they did. They both claim to have the utmost respect for me and yet they've done me the greatest possible disservice they possibly could have. My faith in them is gone. And yes- maybe I do just speak from pure anger- yes- maybe I'm being too hasty. But when two days have gone by since our arrival to this bunker and neither of them have made ANY attempt to speak to me personally about this- I can't be wholly blamed for how I feel. I cannot."
"Damn the both of them. This is the last time I place that level of faith in Orsted- ever again."
. . .
A contemplative silence hangs.
Despite the anger of the last rant, her tone seems to calm.
"Weren't it for Masum, I likely would've already blown up on the both of them by now. I pulled him aside and we went over options- many- and even despite his unfathomably ridiculous schedule, he took the time to speak to me. I appreciate it; greatly. It shows that he cares, contrary to what some have said- it shows that he, without a hint of a doubt, only wants to see us move forward. And, much as he may not always like to be associated with the broader opinion of Lambda itself, it does help to paint the picture Lambda wants us to see- but it paints it in a way I can at least believe. He's a good man; weren't it for his advice and his talks, I doubt I'd have made some very important decisions thus far- even if we didn't directly speak about them at any point, his words carry on in my mind long after he's uttered them."
. . .
"I could tell Hyun was containing himself when he learned that Orsted had pulled out as well. The man believes in this unification- wholly- and I know it. So when he heard what they'd done, I knew it was just another of the many nails in Orsted's coffin for him. Of all the options going forward that I suggested to him, he seemed to be very much on the same page as Masum. I can see Hyun being invaluable to me moving forward- especially when I have to make more drastic decisions towards our mutual goal."
. . .
"Genjo and Clara arrived not long after we did, in their little car. Or- at least, I assume they were together. They spoke as though they were. I had meant to speak to the both of them about our options going forward, but I only caught Genjo today- and much as I fully intend to speak to Clara still, Genjo's words were more valuable to me than he'd realise. Genjo isn't a man to spearhead, no- and for much of that conversation, he listened rather than spoke. But.. that was valuable to me. It was. Genjo, even if he may not realise it, is a good listener- and, given the amount of red I was seeing, that was very much what I needed in the moment. Clara, well.. I haven't spoken to her much. But I know, without much doubt in my mind, that her and I will grow closer; she's relaxed and carefree in a way that I feel the increasing need to emulate, and if her and I can partner up with the joint bar-parlour idea then I'm sure I'll have more than enough chances to learn that calmness from her... or what seems to be calmness, at least, from what I can tell so far."
. . .
There's some clattering in the background, followed by a lighter striking multiple times.
".. just making some tea-"
A pause.. then a small cackle.
"Lord..- speaking as if somebody's having to wait for me."
. . .
"... Deacon seems to be more and more of a persistent presence. I don't know the man all that well, but I did see him hovering around Genjo and Clara plenty- which at least tells me he has some level of decency, as that pair don't strike me as the types to make friends of a moron. Each and any time I've spoken to Deacon, he seems respectful and clear. From what memory I've managed to dig into, I recall many times where he's fought beside us. You can't ask more of a man. I only hope I'm not given a reason to dislike him- as I could see me finding him useful in the future."
. . .
A curiosity-filled, airy scoff ensues.
Following it; the pouring of liquid.
"I met another man today..- Yong. Appeared out of nowhere, and yet has already displayed to me that he's got ten times the experience of many I've had thorough conversations with. I felt a sense of.. trust, when I spoke to him. I saw depth to his eyes. I saw a man dealing with pain equivalent to a thousand needles, and yet his feet remain solid. Within hours of first meeting him, I'd found myself seeking his advice- and solid advice it was; advice I intend to take and add to the pile. He instilled his own sense of faith in me, don't get me wrong- this wasn't one-sided by any means, I could feel the mutual respect. Maybe he, like Masum, recalls the days of this.. 'Jamie' I hear of now and again- and maybe the both of them are of the mind that they want to keep me straying down that path. I thank them both for that, equally."
. . .
An audible sip radiates the recording.
"Tea time. Thank you- whomever you end up being- for listening."
It hangs long enough to make you wonder if the file's even played properly.
".. hello. Again."
And there it is.
Cecilia's voice shivers; be it with emotion, the cold or both - it shudders.
"Much has happened since I last spoke. And I'd be lying if I said any of it was good."
. . .
"The unification has fallen apart."
A pause.
Then a sigh. A deep one.
"It begun with the Armbands- Elizabeth's fucking letter; the letter that read like a child declining an invitation to their friend's birthday party. Usually I'm forgiving of informality, but this time, it was.. insulting. I felt myself deflate like a damn balloon when I read it. And that's not even mentioning contents thoroughly- they 'don't want to be involved in the politics'- you've got to be kidding me, right? You DARE to put a firearm in your hands and think that you can just spend your days ignoring the politics? And not only that, you OPENLY ADMIT you would cause infighting? If you, by your own admittance, are that much of a match to a fuse; then why the hell are you here?!"
. . .
An inhale is taken through her teeth. You can hear it.
"And then there's Orsted. I expected far more of Zhao. Having heard his and the others' agreement - a swift one, at that - I was beyond confident that I had their support. Beyond. And yet, at the very last second, I'm sent a notice of..- abandonment. Nothing short of it. At the very last second- when all the plans had been laid, when the foundation was already there, when so many people had already spoken about it as if it were already a thing- Orsted pulls out of it. My disappointment in both Zhao and Harland is..- no. It's not even disappointment. It's anger. I'm infuriated, and insulted, that they'd do this- that they'd leave it as long as they did. They both claim to have the utmost respect for me and yet they've done me the greatest possible disservice they possibly could have. My faith in them is gone. And yes- maybe I do just speak from pure anger- yes- maybe I'm being too hasty. But when two days have gone by since our arrival to this bunker and neither of them have made ANY attempt to speak to me personally about this- I can't be wholly blamed for how I feel. I cannot."
"Damn the both of them. This is the last time I place that level of faith in Orsted- ever again."
. . .
A contemplative silence hangs.
Despite the anger of the last rant, her tone seems to calm.
"Weren't it for Masum, I likely would've already blown up on the both of them by now. I pulled him aside and we went over options- many- and even despite his unfathomably ridiculous schedule, he took the time to speak to me. I appreciate it; greatly. It shows that he cares, contrary to what some have said- it shows that he, without a hint of a doubt, only wants to see us move forward. And, much as he may not always like to be associated with the broader opinion of Lambda itself, it does help to paint the picture Lambda wants us to see- but it paints it in a way I can at least believe. He's a good man; weren't it for his advice and his talks, I doubt I'd have made some very important decisions thus far- even if we didn't directly speak about them at any point, his words carry on in my mind long after he's uttered them."
. . .
"I could tell Hyun was containing himself when he learned that Orsted had pulled out as well. The man believes in this unification- wholly- and I know it. So when he heard what they'd done, I knew it was just another of the many nails in Orsted's coffin for him. Of all the options going forward that I suggested to him, he seemed to be very much on the same page as Masum. I can see Hyun being invaluable to me moving forward- especially when I have to make more drastic decisions towards our mutual goal."
. . .
"Genjo and Clara arrived not long after we did, in their little car. Or- at least, I assume they were together. They spoke as though they were. I had meant to speak to the both of them about our options going forward, but I only caught Genjo today- and much as I fully intend to speak to Clara still, Genjo's words were more valuable to me than he'd realise. Genjo isn't a man to spearhead, no- and for much of that conversation, he listened rather than spoke. But.. that was valuable to me. It was. Genjo, even if he may not realise it, is a good listener- and, given the amount of red I was seeing, that was very much what I needed in the moment. Clara, well.. I haven't spoken to her much. But I know, without much doubt in my mind, that her and I will grow closer; she's relaxed and carefree in a way that I feel the increasing need to emulate, and if her and I can partner up with the joint bar-parlour idea then I'm sure I'll have more than enough chances to learn that calmness from her... or what seems to be calmness, at least, from what I can tell so far."
. . .
There's some clattering in the background, followed by a lighter striking multiple times.
".. just making some tea-"
A pause.. then a small cackle.
"Lord..- speaking as if somebody's having to wait for me."
. . .
"... Deacon seems to be more and more of a persistent presence. I don't know the man all that well, but I did see him hovering around Genjo and Clara plenty- which at least tells me he has some level of decency, as that pair don't strike me as the types to make friends of a moron. Each and any time I've spoken to Deacon, he seems respectful and clear. From what memory I've managed to dig into, I recall many times where he's fought beside us. You can't ask more of a man. I only hope I'm not given a reason to dislike him- as I could see me finding him useful in the future."
. . .
A curiosity-filled, airy scoff ensues.
Following it; the pouring of liquid.
"I met another man today..- Yong. Appeared out of nowhere, and yet has already displayed to me that he's got ten times the experience of many I've had thorough conversations with. I felt a sense of.. trust, when I spoke to him. I saw depth to his eyes. I saw a man dealing with pain equivalent to a thousand needles, and yet his feet remain solid. Within hours of first meeting him, I'd found myself seeking his advice- and solid advice it was; advice I intend to take and add to the pile. He instilled his own sense of faith in me, don't get me wrong- this wasn't one-sided by any means, I could feel the mutual respect. Maybe he, like Masum, recalls the days of this.. 'Jamie' I hear of now and again- and maybe the both of them are of the mind that they want to keep me straying down that path. I thank them both for that, equally."
. . .
An audible sip radiates the recording.
"Tea time. Thank you- whomever you end up being- for listening."
Jord couldn't fathom what he was hearing.
All of these thoughts, all of these words; all from the mouth of somebody that died.. 250, 300 years ago.
It was enough to send the heart into hysterics.
".. I need to call somebody about this- fucking hell."All of these thoughts, all of these words; all from the mouth of somebody that died.. 250, 300 years ago.
It was enough to send the heart into hysterics.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Last edited:
Reactions:
List
