Kamelot Destroyed (Subterranean Base Operational)

@ellie_knightfall: Love that AV

@cassius_knightfall: Thaaaank you! So pumped for this book.

@ellie_knightfall: Strong art just need the story to match.

Beneath the crumbled concrete slabs and shattered pieces of glass that unceremoniously decorated the hollowed out remains of Kamelot, Alister Priest, Quintus' newest confidant and mentor, slowly made his way down into the shadow tailored depths. Bypassing the destroyed security pads that had at one time maintained the Knightfall's secretive accessories, the pony-tailed mutant flipped a switch and instantly brought the vaunted subterranean dwelling to life.

Flickering just beyond the struggling luminescent lights, the former Noir Rose's supercomputer began rebooting before offering its monotone greeting. *Welcome mutant number 6/897/2. System reboot complete in 15minutes* leaving the unknown child of the atom a substantial amount of time to look around at the Knightfall's museum like collection of captured and created items.

@_priest_:

@_priest_: O_O

I was bored :P

LOL. I should have a post for you soon in Locale

@lena_dante: I'm thinking of making a Charlemagne clone, or creating his son. Thoughts?

@_priest_: Into it. I think either could have interesting psychological ramifications. Did you have an idea that you wanted to implement using that character?

@lena_dante: Yeah, I want Isadora to be the mother and the child would be a mutant/superior sapien hybrid and Quintus was raising him.

@_priest_: That's like ten million different levels of fcked up, so seems right up your alley :D

Isa as a mother is a truly frightening thought O___O

@lena_dante: lol thanks?

@_priest_: It was a compliment haha, you should know me well enough by now to know that :D

its hard to read :/

@_priest_: You make a charlesmagne clone and Cass will try and end him you know this right?. He is still p*ssed didnt kill the real version. Even the semi retired practically a monk broken down cass wouldnt allow this.

Sayeth whaaaaaaat?

@cutthroatbitch

Santiago could deny it to no one. A part of him would always be bound to Avalon. To the memories and relationships built there, with Antonia, Lena and Nastya. Like many others, he too was haunted by Avalon's ghost; Kamelot. And days ago he had heard the unearthly wail of a tear in space-time. A tear that while fleeting, left Kamelot's underbelly with an anomalous quake. His science - a millennia ahead of mankind's - could not ignore it. And neither could his mind. An investigation was inevitable, and it took the Black Viper little time to leave his native Valencia for the skyscrapers of New York. And even less for him to find Kamelot.

Or what remained of it.

Inside, it was dark. The kind of dark that made clamoring hearts recoil in fear when surrounded by it. Yet Santiago, strode in with a daring as suave as it was fierce. He looked an Apollo but had a viper's venomous streak. Moving through subterranean halls as the click-clack of Italian leather trailed his every step, the Black Viper's mind - a cloud of quantum telepathy - swept every corner for a sign. For the quantum information of a nearby mind. And what he found felt familiar. There was a charming glint in his eyes, and a subtle curve of his lips. They hadn't seen each other in so long. So much had changed since then.

Friends called her Nastya, but he'd always called her, "Tasia?".

IT'S HAPPENINGGGGGGG

:(

@nemesis_liafador: It's true! Like I was just telling Impero. Aside from the scientists who had a hand in creating her [who are by no means friends], the only people she talks to are Abby and Santi, and both of them are only sometimes because they're always missing!

Most other people don't even know Valencia is just a fake persona. Her best "friend" is an artificial intelligence!

@la-espada:

Deep within the deserted structure, below the surface in the yet again abandoned Knightfall Cave was Nastya. Lying on the floor of the central platform, her body rose and fell with steady breaths. Nothing existed beyond the moments before - in which she'd stayed there on the floor. Minutes, hours, days--nothing existed beyond that moment, and if she'd been asked how she got there, or how long ago, or if she was a billionaire five-year-old clone made to defend something within, she couldn't have said.

But she had been lying there for hours, at least. Lying perfectly still until a vaguely familiar scent struck her nose like a keen slap.

Anastasia's head rose, cocked to one side. The metronome of his footsteps pounded in her ears, growing louder and louder until she could hear him on the platform above hers. She turned and looked up at him, eyes bloodshot and distant, though processing an attempt at recognition.

"T҉a҉s҉i҉a҉?"

Her head angled slightly the other way. A low murmur from her throat. Static filled her mind, linguistic concepts as obscure as the day she'd first learned them. But before those, before learning to read or speak, the Lazarus learned the language of movements and gestures. Her fists unclenched slightly and she began creeping up the steps to where he stood, primally processing ??? ???'s body language, his tone. Pushing first a low murmur from her throat, the Lazarus Project spoke a hollow echo of Santiago himself. "??????"

@cutthroatbitch:

There was as much pause as there was concern as the scene unfolded before him. Nastya, with her memory having taken leave of her, struggled to find the familiarity they once had. If not as friends, then as constants of a social environment they once shared. They'd worked together, danced at balls together, yet as his eyes locked with hers, he found them thin and distant. As though she were present in body but gone in spirit. This is no good, he thought, a face known for suavity now wearing a mask of concern. "It's your name, bella", he reminded, holding her gaze while his body faced hers, "Specifically, my nickname for you. Anastasia, so I say Tasia", Santiago paused, mouth curled in a smile as encouraging as it was charming.

Perhaps this was a rib, all in jest. Nastya'd always been a woman with a cheeky streak. Surely she was not lost in true confusion? But the longer her gaze held, the more he caught her eyes studying his posture, confident yet personable, the more he doubted it. "A moment, Tasia". He would linger on speculation no more. His quantum telepathy surfaced, and like a tide with a shore, sought to rise over her mind and unearth the quantum information comprising her consciousness. He'd flip through the pages of quantum information, and interpret every inch so that he sift through her mind for any memory of him, of Avalon, of everything. The process, if successful, would last a fleeting nanosecond and be painless. And he needed to know. Had she truly forgotten? Had her memory been scrubbed by clean? And if so, by what?

The tear in space-time that he'd drawn him there? Or something - someone - else? He could only wonder. But the more time passed, the more his blood simmered. For if someone'd done this to Nastya? The Black Viper's focus'd shift to revenge. Years ago he'd avenged Lena's torture in his brutal beating of Lucian LeBeau. For Nastya, for the loss of her memory, he'd do the same. He need only a name, a face. Yet as he lingered on the thought, his mind wondered and his blood cooled. Could it be? Of course not. He dismissed the thought before inevitably returning to it. Had Antonia done it? Had she returned? And though his doubts surfaced, so too did his realization that in a world where the astonishing was common, strangers thing had happened.

@la-espada:

As his expression changed, Nastya paused. Her eyes worked him over, lips silently mimicking the movements of his mouth. She hesitated. But he wasn't a threat, of that she seemed to be aware. Nonetheless, she remained in distress even as she advanced toward him.

It was all there, his telepathy would show. Damaged - many connections between neural pathways had been destroyed and not recovered - but her memories, though incomplete, remained. Retrieval, not encoding nor retention, was the issue. As surely as she could mimic his words, the kinesthetic registers were all there. Neural connections denoting her memories of persons, places, and experiences were all there. Even beyond that, many more connections were rapidly forming. But whatever metamorphosis was taking place apparently had the additional effect of "short-circuiting" certain other pathways of the brain.

Amaranth, her memories showed, had been stored within a localized pocket of spacetime in the very same space they presently inhabited. So well hidden, for he'd been stored within a shatterpoint through a series of shatterpoints—imperceptible to all but a select few beings on the planet, and hidden even to those unless they knew exactly where to look. Naturally sensitive points, within the quantum secrets of reality Antonia stored Amaranth in a perfect prison of her own design and made him a clone to serve as the guardian; and when others entered that space, that dimension fractured and then shattered, sending shockwaves through the æther. And while Santi learned of this effect of his own accord, it made its way directly to the Immortal Warden, as it would regardless of her location - a shatterpoint existing in her brain since creation, burst like an aneurysm. Her death and resurrection were swift. Like a woman possessed, the Lazarus made her way to that place—too late to catch those escaping on the power of the space lavaliere. And there she existed in a state of feral semi-consciousness until Santiago's arrival.

@cutthroatbitch:

Memories and neural disaster were laid bare before the Black Viper's telepathic eyes, and with every fiber of his being, he fought the urge to scowl. Amaranth, he thought, his blood boiling, Tasia, he continued, his blood cooling. An immortal warden for an immortal prisoner, that was her purpose - and this, the semi-feral Amazon before him - was the ultimate culmination of her duty to see to it that Amaranth never escape. But she'd been a second too late, and so had he. Again and again, he weaved through her crowded mind, making sure of what he saw, and giving her a smile here and there with a social precision that disarmed politicians. Santiago needed her calm, and at ease.

And at the end of his telepathic search - he needed her back.

She needed neural surgery from nanites that'd repair the connections between her neural pathways with laser precision. In her right mind, perhaps she'd consent. Yet the woman who stood before him was not Nastya, but an Amazon who regarded him with the intrigue and wariness of a curious animal. She didn't recognize him, but seemed to want to. "This is no good, bella", he noted as she drew nearer still, certain to hold her gaze as he usually would. He knew what he need do. Nanoseconds ticked by, and Santiago's quantum telepathy swam to the depths of Nastya's mind to do one thing and one thing only; shut down her conscious mind. In her current state, she'd draw her claws and growl a storm.

He needed her at the mercy of unconscious to help her. Were she to collapse unconsciously, she'd do so into his arms. "My apologies, Tasia", he'd say, calm while a part of him stirred with a fury to slay Amaranth. It was his escape that did this to her. He did this to her. A crime among countless others against countless people. Amaranth had stolen Nastya from herself, and his debt must be paid. So said the Black Viper's vengeful heart. He'd teleport them from Kamelot's hollow interior to elsewhere, a laboratory where he could tend to her wounded brain. With or without Nastya, he'd finish what Antonia'd started - and kill Amaranth.

Santiago probed, and Nastya seemed to notice. Her head jerked upward, cocked again in that curious gesture. At once reading his expressions and scenting the changes in his pheromones. Her shoulders, hunched, rose and fell with shallow breaths. Processing these conflicting signals--the unfamiliar, learned against the ingrained, instinctive--the primal won out.

And as though tensing any other muscle in her Amazon body, four trion blades flashed under the dim lights, twin razors unsheathing from knuckles on both hands. A dull register of pain brought about herself but that hardly seemed to matter. In a split second following their unveiling, Nastya's legs loaded like springs and she exploded—forward and down to one knee, were it not for Santi standing to catch her. Still conscious, but in no position to perpetuate harm. Beyond docile, she was vacant. Through the established connection by his intrusion within her mind, Santiago would've been able to perceive another erupting shatterpoint before reality itself seemed to collapse.

And if the grand orchestrator'd had her druthers, the intruder who happened to be Santi Porthos would be drawn in under its effect as well as Anastasia.

From nothing she appeared, as did the plane around her. It'd not been there before, but still had been there all along. Numbers - streams of data - flowed throughout and circled the two weaving just around them like wisps of smoke, present and real but ephemeral.

They were patterns, bleeding from the fabric of reality, cascading both vertically and horizontally. Analyzing the pair.

Finally they separated from Santiago and Nastya. They instead began to coalesce and weave about themselves, organizing themselves into feminine curves of a quasi-physical human form.

Her appearance was that of a program more than of a person, but her features were distinguished and familiar. Gradually, hues set and color returned to them, though if one looked closely she looked only a translucent shade of herself. Sharp emerald eyes settled on Santiago, softening with a vague fondness. The Once and Forever Queen looked to her creation, half-slumped in his arms, still distant. Several expressions chased each other across her face—excitement, concern, and disappointment.

She glanced back up. "????????." A nod, and there was approval in the midst of clear and present annoyance. Still she found it in herself to smile. "?'? ???? ???'?? ????."

@antonia: @cutthroatbitch:

Trion blades sprung out the knuckles of a woman that'd become more beast than person - and Santiago met their silver gleam with calm sympathy. Nastya's mind had taken leave of her, just as Amaranth had of his prison. And it was on the Mutant Messiah - so-called - that the Black Viper's wrath was fixated. The seconds ticked away, Nastya collapsed, and Santiago'd stopped her fall before it could end. His eyes passed over her as she lay lamely in his arms, like a lioness left limp by a tranquilizer. Yet as his quantum telepathy lulled her mind to sleep, he witnessed yet another break in space-time. This one more familiar than the last, in both sight and feeling. The walls of reality collapsed, and it's very architecture stood bare for him to see.

It's geometry changed from number to woman, and Santiago locked eyes with a gaze as emerald as it was familiar. The suave muscles in his face softened, and his mouth matched her smile. "Not exactly how I imagined our long-awaited reunion", he bantered. "But tis good to see you, bella". For a fleeting moment, warmth flooded his heart before the blazing hatred he felt for Amaranth burned hotter. "There's not many other people I'd want to help me solve our current problem. How to kill an immortal terrorist?". His smile faded, and his sapphire gaze seemed set ablaze. "You have more experience with him than I. Reputation says he can become intangible. Punches don't hurt him, explosions do nothing, and forces cannot react with him. But tell me, can he be seen? Can you see him when he is intangible? Because if so, there is a force he reacts with, even if only weakly".

Electromagnetism. Carried by photons. Photons that the Black Viper hoped rendered Amaranth visible to the naked eye. "If he can be seen, then he reacts with the electromagnetic force. And if this is true, a device that interacts with him electromagnetically, could kill him. Something the neutralizes and changes the charge of his atoms and molecules to zero, removing the forces that hold his body together. It would disintegrate him. Amaranth as we know him would be nothing more than an inert cloud of electrons, protons and neutrons that cannot react with anything. A bomb, a grenade would work. Something that he'd think his intangibility could save him from. He'd expect heat and concussive force, but it would be something else".

"But, I ramble. And for that, you have my apologies, bella", he said, wit and charm turning his tongue silver. "What do you have in mind, Antonia?".

@la-espada:

She listened as intently as she always had, when he spoke, and a somber expression gripped her face. Gently - hesitantly - she reached her hand out as though to touch his cheek. But, even should Santi remain still and her hand made contact, the most he would feel was a dim phantom of a sensation where her fingers brushed. The barest hint of a smile broke as she mouthed a silent "Sorry."

"The entity you know as Antonia isn't...here. What you see standing before you is—I am—a fragment of her consciousness left behind inside the mind of the Lazarus. Anastasia," she self-corrected. "To serve as an unconscious guide and, in the event of Amaranth's escape, to help her come to grips with the changes that result. To be a conscious guide, if necessary, on the way to her true purpose. A fragment of Antonia's mind is coded directly into the essence of Nastya's being. And then, in essence, locked behind a doorway that's hidden in a secret passage in the wall. Under the best of circumstances it could serve as a beacon in case I decide to slingshot back to this pocket of spacetime you call home. Otherwise...well, you saw the way she was. When Amaranth escaped, the door...swung open."

Now she mirrored the gravity of his expression and then some, brimming with the same quiet fury as she had when the Tiger of Babylon killed Mr. Cambridge and several other innocent Kamelot employees. "If I could kill him, he would've been killed instead of captured. Subdue him? I'm your girl. Severely wound him? Absolutely. Make him suffer? My life's work and obsession. I know how to damage him in such a way that he theoretically can't recover without external assistance. But I'm not a walking deus ex machina, Santi—that's just an illusion caused by extreme preparedness." In that instant her form seemed to glitch and a vaguely inhuman amusement flickered in her eyes. And as soon as it appeared it was gone.

"That won't work." Her body flickered again. "You may see him, but Amaranth isn't like most of the others. When a mutant or mutate becomes intangible," she explained, "most often this works by extreme mass manipulation, quantum tunnelling, mechanics explicable using principles of physics. They're more easily stopped by, most conventionally, extremely dense materials. Or more unorthodox methods for someone like yourself who enjoys finding the most complex way around a problem just because. But not Amaranth. Dense metals like adamantium and trion, manipulation of mass, these things don't even slow him down. He may be visible or, on a whim, not even light particles can touch him. There is one exception that I know of. Anthony Stark was able to use Source Particles to force Amaranth from intangibility. Through a certain unorthodox kind of processing, we were able to make a unique gene for this and embed that gene into his clone - as you now know, the girl in your arms, inside whose mind you're presently focused.

"This fragment of my consciousness holds many of my 'anti-Amaranth contingencies,' and is embedded within Nastya's subconscious. But the mechanisms, those are all her. She is my most favoured contingency, of those that seemed feasible. A living, thinking, eternal contingency—one that will live forever and is capable of adapting to circumstance, if she didn't do anything idiotic like defecting." Her eyes flashed. There were measures in place for that as well. "She's not the only thing, and it'll take a lot more than bypassing his intangibility - especially now that he's been humbled by defeat"—and refocused, and enraged, no doubt—"but you can think of her as a singular shortcut through which the other paths are more accessible. All that said, I'd like you to stay a little while. Here, in her head. She'll process everything that follows better if you can help her, at least as an anchor. Please don't touch anything - in her mind, or the brain. She'll be fine if you leave that alone. She just needed to...shut down and reboot for 'updates.'"

@antonia:

Antonia, or some part of her, reached out to him. Her fingers felt like wisps of smoke as they grazed his face. And the sensation felt as familiar as it did distant. Had Nastya not been in his arms, his hand'd had lifted to catch hers, to feel her presence for the first time in what had become an eternity for them. To her apology, to her faintest of smiles, he conceded, surrendering a smile of his own, "Maybe someday, bella". But today, it was Nastya to whom their attentions fell. Amaranth's escape'd drawn from her very soul the sword sharpened to cut him down. Though the thought of Antonia being the hand to guide the sword was something Santiago was almost certain Nastya would resent.

"Interesting, to say the least", he paused, brow scowling at the mystery shrouding Amaranth's prison break. "This escape, tis work beyond a malnourished and weakened immortal. So it begs the question. Who broke him out? And how?". The question sat heavy in his mind, taunting him with the laughter he imagined flowed out Amaranth's throat at his first smell of freedom. Nastya's memories offered him glimpses of imprisonment, but how the Mutant Messiah'd fled eluded him. "Oh I don't doubt your ability to kill anything, Antonia. But you and I have always worked best together. So I was always going to suggest that we wine and dine over the best course of action. Which, as unfolding events point to, includes Tasia". Glancing down at Nastya, his sapphire eyes held her vacant gaze, and his arms her body.

"That won't work"

"I assumed as much", the Black Viper sighed, "It'd have been too easy. And as you said, if it was that easy, you'd have killed him long ago. But fortunately, you've already thought of that. Though as it will take more than funking up his intangibility, I have a suggestion for an additional measure. How well Amaranth can defend against psychics should be taken into account of course, but since I last you, my telepathy has grown". Santiago'd always been an outlier, and his mind - a nexus for a unique psychic power truly frightening. "Which is all well because my telepathy is not conventional. It is not powered by traditional psychic energies. Instead, my brain is a receiving and transmitting device that directly connects my processes of cognition with the properties, to which I'm uniquely sensitive, of the quantum information that makes up consciousness".

"I can take a mind, in bits and pieces or in it's totality, and deport it from the brain to any coordinates in space-time geometry. I can either rip a mind apart at the most fundamental level by moving parts of it to different locations across space-time, or be more humane and simply move a mind to space-time coordinates different than the body's. My recommendation? Nastya subdues Amaranth physically, and you imprison him however you deem most effective, while I rip his mind from his brain and imprison it in the planet's core or something. In any case, we'll have some time to think of more". So as his gaze returned to Nastya, Santiago couldn't help but agree to Antonia's terms. "I'll stay. She's a good friend of mine. Helping her process everything better is the least I can do".

@la-espada:

The fragment of Dain's consciousness smirked. "Oh, you two are friends now? I'm jealous. We never got past colleagues." A bit of grim truth behind her humor. She shrugged. It was only right that she minimized attachments.

"Thank you. Although I must confess my reasons for wanting you here are only partly sentimental. There is information I wish to impart regarding her purpose. You'll be a useful guide. Keep her from being the wrong kind of interested in Amaranth." It was, she'd always considered, the biggest risk with the young immortal. Sympathy. Idealism. A desire to belong that couldn't be satisfied except by her progenitor.

While they spoke, Antonia reached out and pulled the Amazon from his arms. As she transferred from Santi to Antonia, Nastya's form shrank until her astral self had taken the shape of a child, small enough to be carried, a more true-to-life representation of her actual age. She cradled the child, eyes locked on her like those of a lioness on her cub even as she addressed Santi. "Between the two of us, I don't think there's a threat in this universe we couldn't come up with a plan to defeat. Although I could be wrong. I'm incomplete. Maybe talking to a fragment of the woman as opposed to the entity herself is gonna lead you down a dead-end path," she said, flashing a smirk briefly in his direction. "I couldn't say for certain, but in theory your plan might work. It's worth a shot at least. Even if you can't pull his mind we'll want to subdue him. As well as kill whomever is behind his escape.

"That's where you come in," she said, gently shaking the child who then began to stir.

Anastasia looked at her creator, groaned, and shifted to turn over.

The realization hit her so hard she fell out of Antonia's arms. Scrambling back to her feet, eyes frantically darting around, searching for nonexistent context.

"Nastya, I need you to focus."

"What is this?"

"Focus, please."

"Where am I?"

"Focus."

"I am focused—right now, on the confusion you're not giving me answers for." She took a few steps back before registering Santiago's presence, holding him warily in her gaze. She recognized him, but didn't fully trust what she saw. Nevertheless, she turned so she was facing slightly more toward him.

"This isn't a dream. The interbellum is over. The war is back on. You're in your head, piecing together the details of Amaranth's escape. Santi and I are here to help you along. Whoever freed him has the ability to perceive shatterpoints and an interest in his freedom. The obvious answer is the Court of Arcani. Did you see who it was?"

Nastya thought a moment, her own memories playing out before them, but those only extended to moments before the escape. She'd been meeting with an associate regarding a new and interesting information trail when the head-splitting migraine set in. Visual memories ceased and they no longer played out before the three. Nastya took in a deep breath through her nostrils. She turned her head upward and sniffed like a canine having caught a scent wafting over a breeze.

"No. Whoever...gone before I could see them. The containment point nearly collapsed around me. Amaranth...and three others. I don't recognize them, except—!" Her expression cycled rapidly between shock, anger, and giddy anticipation. "I'd have kicked his ass without any more excuses but this is just too sweet." Passing a glance between both Antonia and Santiago, she smirked and an image appeared of a man in a fine Dormeuil suit. "Richard something-or-other. Bitcoin boy, if you've been keeping up with current events," she said in Santi's direction. Her demeanor--her entire spirit--suddenly fell. Angling further away from the fragment of Antonia, eyes cast downward. "I've only met him once, when I...sold off chunks of the company."

Tonia's nostrils and eyes flared. It took everything in her to refrain from eviscerating the young girl's mind, but even diminished from her full consciousness she retained most of her impeccable self-control.

"I didn't know!" Nastya interjected before she could speak up. "He was...an asshole, but I didn't know. I didn't think he was Court of Arcani bad. I kept the main building and some of the subsidiaries," she offered as consolation.

"That's fine," Antonia said, though seriously doubting this herself. "Not your brightest idea but we can't change that now. We'll just have to adapt, like we always do. At least in that meeting you got his scent and you're able to recall. Which means we have a lead. Santi?"

@antonia:

Antonia was a woman who flourished in the luster of fame, the heat of battle, and at the helm of power. She intimidated most, if not all. All but one - Santiago. He knew her as few people did, as few people dared to. So when she - or the closest thing to her - smirked and bantered, so did he. "Tis a shame. It seemed to me we were on the cusp of getting past best friends". Tucking away a strand of hair that'd strayed to his forehead, a tic that was as much vanity as it was impeccable attention to detail, Santiago went on, his smirk vanishing, "De nada, bella. I'd honestly doubt your legitimacy as Antonia - or part of her - if your reason for wanting me here was only sentimental", his smirk returned, the banter kept fleeting by the mention of Amaranth.

That Nastya's potential interest in the Mutant Messiah could manifest as admiration or a longing to relate, was enough to keep the Black Viper sharp. Where his charm could not weave, his spear'd lance through. Were Nastya's interest misguided, he'd guide his spear to Amaranth's skull before she found reason to spare him - or worse. "Si, a misguided interest in him on her part would defeat her purpose as his Kryptonite", or at least the purpose decided for her. Finally, Nastya was lifted from his arms, changing from Amazon to child as she came to rest in Antonia's arms. And the moment, the gaze Antonia passed over Nastya, was as motherly as it was Antonia. As invested as it was fierce. To her words and returning smirk, the Black Viper curled his mouth and raised an eyebrow, ""I could be wrong?" Sounding a little unfamiliar there, bella".

His tease faded and gave way to confidence, in himself as much as her - them. "We've accomplished a lot of things working together. We'll stop him and bring an end to this madness. Because if we don't, I doubt anyone else will. A wise man once told me, "Hell hath no fury like a patient". And Amaranth has been waiting patiently for this very moment. We'll come up with more plans. Tis always been our specialty to account for the possibilities". And as Antonia stirred Nastya awake, their greatest possibility surrendered to suspicion. Her eyes darted back and forth between him and Antonia till finally, Antonia eased Nastya's nerves. Hands in his pockets, Santiago watched as Nastya's senses caught the scents lingering in the air, and the information they carried. Three others she said? His brow raised in a moment of intrigue, and as she uttered a name, his brain - an otherworldly machine - went to work.

It flipped through pages and pages of logical consequences as Antonia scowled a storm over Nastya's sale of Avalon. The whos, hows and whys. Holding both Nastya and Antonia in his gaze, he spoke. "The Bitcoin boy. Richard Vasiliev. Russian name. A Russian with an interest in Arcani affairs. I imagine he's not the only one, but this is a special case. Barring Kratesis, Amaranth is the highest profile member of the Arcani. Engineering his escape is not something the Arcani would leave to just anyone. If Richard was here, then it is not far fetched to imagine that the highest profile Russian in the Arcani was as well. Ivana is a high ranking Strigidae and former Shogun of Venezuela. I suspect either her involvement or Kratesis'. Though Kratesis, from what I know, would have come alone as per her modus operandi".

@la-espada:

Antonia's eyes flashed fiercely at the first mention of Kratesis but she said nothing. She doubted the reason for his suspicion, but likewise concluded that Kratesis was not the culprit here.

"Are you sure?" Nastya asked, somewhat perplexed by the suggestion. "Seems like a stretch...I think. Maybe. Like there's only two Russians in the Court of Arcani? Just because he's Russian and affiliated with the Court, he's a friend? Not saying it's off the table - whoever it is has to be good--really good--and have resources. And he did get really pissy over little shit so I guess he could be a brother or something and the bitchitude is just hereditary, but Ivana's been silent for a long time." She inhaled and exhaled deeply. "If I'd met her when I was infiltrating Venezuela I could say for certain. I could reach out to Abby, see if her hydrokinetic friend has been acting suspicious...check in on various databases to see if anyone's seen that little girl who used to follow him around everywhere...reach out to an old drinking buddy?" Aside from his connection to Ivana, the possibility of getting back at Dog for their last encounter was particularly exciting.

Antonia interjected. "Whether or not she was involved here, we can assume that whenever Amaranth resurfaces, those who followed him will as well, and they'll need to be dealt with. You two will be more familiar with newer players like this 'Shogun'. Whoever she was, she was a lower profile until after my departure. But if she's mastered the means of detecting and reaching Amaranth where I placed him then she's extremely dangerous. I shouldn't have to tell you two to be careful. I would, however, remind you of the resources at your disposal. Reach out to Abigail, and the others. But don't neglect the simple utility of traffic cameras. Strange phenomena perceived through mundane lenses. Hair, blood, anything else that might've been left in the building."

@cutthroatbitch:

The confusion wrinkling Nastya's brow was not lost on him, but the Black Viper's brain was a quantum mechanical wonder, an extraordinary information-processing unit whose reach soared well above the sentience quotient of man. He glimpsed at the extended logical consequences of many a statement. So to Nastya's question, "Are you sure?", he answered, "No. I am not sure, but tis worth investigating until we are sure. Ivana fulfills the criteria for someone really good with a wealth of resources. She is a martial artist with few peers, and as the former Shogun of Venezuela, once had a vibranium rich nation's resources at her disposal. Tis not far fetched to think she kept something useful from her time as Shogun".

"Her being silent for long means she is either dead or has used that time to patiently plan Amaranth's escape. If she is silent, she will not be investigated, no one will suspect her, and she can go about her business uninterrupted. But", Santiago paused, his eyes shifting from Nastya to Antonia then back again, "I understand that it is a stretch. I am open to being wrong", he smiled. "But sans Amaranth, Kratesis and Ivana are the highest ranking Arcani members of which I am aware. And one of them is Russian, like Richard. Coincidence? Es posible. But it might not be. But this girl you say used to follow Amaranth around", his interest rose, his mind committing a sin it rarely did - drawing a blank. "I was not aware of her". A daughter, perhaps? Santiago could only wonder, he knew nothing of Shiho, even her very existence.

Quickly, his attention scrambled, with an eye and ear on Ivana, and many more on this "girl". With wisdom and reason, Antonia cautioned them both, and Santiago's eyes - more sapphires than gateways to his soul - returned to Antonia's. "So you do care", he bantered, teasing a smirk before surrendering to the gravity of the situation. "Though I have not suspended my suspicion of Ivana's involvement, I feel this little girl could be a good lead. Richard Vasiliev should be investigated as well. Tasia", he paused, passing his gaze to Nastya, "You're better acquainted with Abigail. Tis better she be approached by a face she finds more familiar. By that", his smirk returned, "I mean your adult face. And as for the traffic cameras and so on, I'll take a look".

@la-espada: hola Mano

@la-espada: "Rest assured, in the real world Anastasia still looks like...herself." Not that it entirely mattered. She could alter her physical attributes and appearance at will, and Antonia doubted reluctance on Abigail's part would be a concern. Not with the Court of Arcani.

Her mind was occupied by another matter entirely. Squinting, the translucent form took several steps toward Santi. "But why so interested in Kratesis all of a sudden? I'd never heard of you mention her before, but here you are, pulling her name from the aether, thrice in a span of less than five minutes. So...?"

@antonia:

The reassurance stroked his mind like a wave, easing his concerns - albeit subtle and amused - over Nastya's childlike appearance. "Ah, muy bien", Santiago answered, wondering for a fleeting moment what'd fan the flames of Abigail's wariness more. He, a stranger, or a child claiming to be a CEO of Avalon. Though as Antonia's eyes narrowed and she glided towards her, the Black Viper's attention swept back to her.

For every forward step she took, Santiago took one himself. Their gazes locked. "Because the biggest Arcani name sans her has been freed from a prison only a highly skilled and dangerous person could break into. And Amaranth, such a key figure in the Court, would not be made the responsibility of the common Arcani rabble. I'd be a fool not to - at the very least - suspect her involvement, however unlikely it may be. That and", Santiago paused, "She disappeared. Just... vanished from the face of the Earth".

"Like the Brahma Bull. Like you. People don't just disappear. Things happen. And I'd rather know what and why so I can be better prepared for their potential return, if it ever comes, than to be caught off guard by any false sense of security from their long disappearance. Initially", his eyes passed over her face, "I'd hoped her disappearance had to do with you. That the two of you'd encountered one another in some capacity and you were keeping her locked away from mankind as your last good deed to us. That is why I am interested".

@la-espada:

"I understand," she said, phantom hand patting his shoulder. "That's good. Healthy. Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

"I wish I knew," she said with a shrug. Although if she did, she mused, the chances of them having that very conversation would've been astronomically lower. "Guess you'll have to fall back on someone else's good deeds."

That said, she turned her gaze once more to her final project, her chosen successor. The softness of her expression was almost entirely foreign to Nastya. Doña made a point to show appreciation for achievement but the kind of seeming affection she was showing here, Nastya'd felt less than a handful of times before. That was the continual struggle. She was bred smart, conditioned smarter. Enough to understand the inherent manipulation in interpersonal relationships and especially apparent in her own upbringing, but reading into things she was never able to decide whether it was better to resist conditioning on principle, or let it go and buy into the comfortable facade.

"I really am sorry it hurt so much," said the departed Queen of Los Angeles. "The mechanisms were a bit tricky, and several things needed to be actualised automatically and immediately, without additional external catalysts, in a worst-case scenario. But when you awake, you’ll be better for my phenotypic expression within you. Kratesis or not, everyone'll need you in top form to secure the future. I understand your lingering feelings toward me. The resentment…longing.” She knelt, cupping Nastya’s chin and directing her toward her own face. “I wanted to show you I care but I’m not wired nor conditioned that way. I do care. It’s just not quite natural for me, and it – I – didn’t really fit in with your true purpose.

"You aren't just Amaranth's clone. You aren't just designed to be an immortal prison guard, nor even for the comparatively small task of facing the Court of Arcani. You are part of a much larger initiative.”

Another holographic figure appeared, standing beside Antonia. The tall blonde was Kelly Coltaine, the heroine known as Lady Liberty. "Kelly Coltaine. Her DNA is within me, as is mine within you. She was the nGoddess of Progress, until her powers were somehow dampened by Quintus Knightfall. However, she underwent changes which eventually led to her development as the nGoddess of Evolution. But a pantheon, new or old, can’t just exist with vacancies like this. If I have it right – and I do – this change created a void that needed to be filled. With you I hoped to fill that void. Anastasia, you are my attempt to create a new Goddess of Progress."

Finally saying it to someone else, for a woman of science it sounded silly. To a woman of any kind of faith it was the peak of hubris. Were there no boundaries to her god complex? Maybe not, she thought, feeling some not insignificant measure of pride simply for the attempt itself. There was no being and no facet of existence she was not willing to challenge. To place herself at and beyond the same level.

Antonia shrugged, and offered a vaguely self-conscious smile. "With no reliable way to track it, we were never able to say for certain whether I'd succeeded in creating a goddess, but my hope has been that one way or another you'd fulfill that role, with my company as your instrument. You, Nastya, are meant to safeguard mankind for aeons to come, and to guide their progress toward their ultimate destiny, whatever that is. It's yours to decide, if you let it be. But it all starts with this. Amaranth, Kratesis, the Court of Arcani – this is only the beginning of your crucible."

Nastya just stared, turning over the new information and struggling to process her own feelings. Was it worth it? To have so much more meaning – to be so much more important…but it was a lofty burden, yet another foisted upon her. Although coming from her maker, she was sure Antonia meant well by the grand gesture of faith. Or at least as close as she can get to “means well for you as a person.” She turned her head to Santi, blue-green eyes scanning for his reaction, and perhaps some measure of guidance.

@antonia:

The sensation of her hand was still cold, more winter wisp than a warm touch. And he'd be a fool to ever expect different. With little else to say, the Black Viper stood in silence, passing his gaze over both women. The moment was theirs, not his. So with eyes as enigmatic as they were blue, Santiago watched, his smile trafficking in mystery while Antonia shed her winter coat for a warmth he imagined Nastya had never known to exist. And it was touching. Her words were guided by the will of ambition as much as a blanket of appreciation. Nastya was Antonia's greatest gift to the world. A culmination of X-Gene and nGene. A being as uniquely herself as Antonia was. Perhaps more-so.

She was grown and groomed to be man's sword and shield against all that threatened his survival, prosperity and self-determination. No word went unheard, and no revelation made too casually. This was as motherly as Antonia'd ever been, and to bear witness to the rarity was not lost on the Black Viper. His smile warmed, but soon his mind pulled back to the strand of hair that'd strayed to his forehead. He smoothed it back into place. Earth was a cosmic gem. A hub of activity rarely seen among the stars. Here, metahumans waged wars. Aliens came to raze cities to the ground. And artifacts whose matrices of power were felt throughout the cosmos - sat here. That Nastya'd be Earth's sword and shield, was something he was grateful for.

For the Black Viper's interests lied elsewhere. Beyond.

But Nastya was his friend. And he imagined, that he was perhaps her only friend. Her responsibilities were many, and he'd lend her his hand. So as they met eyes, his face softened, "Tis a lot to take in, bella. But, these are not responsibilities you'll shoulder on your own. You're a good friend of mine. So I'll be by your side, helping you however I can".

@la-espada:

"Who says I'll shoulder them at all?" Nastya shot right back. Eyes flitting rapidly between the two, she took a half-step back, lip curled into a sneer. She focused on Santi and squinted. What were the chances he wasn't actually Santi, instead a figment of some mind control protocol to push her in a particular direction? Within her own mind she couldn't discern the truth through scent. It was, ironically, the least trustworthy setting in which they could've dropped this information. And even if he was...well, he and Antonia had been close.

"I didn't ask to be her Jesus just so she can play God one more time. Treat me like some object to be given to the world." She challenged him with an upward nod. "And if I don't wanna be the god she wants me to be, you'll abide by that because you're a friend, si? I know that's the right answer. What if I say I'll be the goddess, and I'll guide mankind toward its destiny...but its destiny lies with Amaranth? Then what?"

@cutthroatbitch:

There was no mistaking the anger boiling over her, or the frustration breathing from her throat. The Black Viper was nothing if not perceptive. Nastya protested, and their eyes locked in a gaze. Hers were daring and with a glint of nerve, and his bold and mystifying. Santiago was often passionate, a man known to surrender to the fire in his blood, the ambition of his heart, and the appetite of his carnality. Yet here, with Nastya overwhelmed by waves of revelation and the emotions they - and Antonia - inspired, Santiago need not be passionate. He was calm, and slid a hand into his pocket. "Tasia, I am not your father, nor your mother, creator, what have you", he paused, stealing a glance Antonia's way.

"Only your friend", he continued, eyes returned to hers, "So I would never tell you what to do. If, right now, at this very moment, you told me your dream is to become a painter, I'd say good luck and perhaps even purchase your first work... if it's any good", he bantered, his words and smile wrapped in charm and wit. "Because you're my friend. However", his smile faded, and his eyes sharpened, "If you decide that mankind's destiny lies with Amaranth, then tis where our friendship ends. Unfortunately". And what such an end'd entail, he'd rather not say. "Well", his voice lifted, "It seems I've overstayed my welcome, and Amaranth runs free. I must identify his accomplices, and see what I can manage for a backup plan should things go south".

"It was good to see you", he smiled, as calm and subtle as the inclined head he issued Antonia's way. "Will either one of you have any more need of me?", Santiago asked, passing his gaze from one to the other.

@la-espada:

Though she wanted for Nastya the assurance that'd hopefully lead her to make the right decision of her own accord, the Once and Forever Queen silently approved Santiago's resolution to oppose Amaranth and his cohorts no matter what they tried—and no matter who they were. Atta boy. Even separated by immeasurable quantities of space and time, my most trusted companion for evermore.

She shook her head. "I was just about to release her. You could've left any time you wanted." Then, smiling, "But I'm glad we got to talk. Even if my whole can't appreciate this moment yet, this part of me appreciates it. Just...be patient, and don't be quick to give up on her completely. Even gods must discover wisdom on their own, and even they've never been infallible."

Then giving Nastya her full attention once more, she offered her last consolation. "True, you never asked to be what you are but neither did anyone else. The difference is you get a choice. In this universe virtually every event—every action of every living thing that ever has or ever will exist—was a predetermined result of a single universal-scale event billions of years ago. But I gave you part of me, and that part makes you an exception to that rule." She stood, and the form started to fade and dissipate, though her voice remained as close as ever, inside Anastasia's mind. "We made you. In that, you're just like everybody else who didn't ask to be here. But in everything else you are one of the freest beings in the entire universe. So yes. In a manner of speaking, you are 'my gift to the world.' But in another, not so far off, this universe is my gift to you.

"You've a lot to consider, a lot to do. I'll see you when this is all over."

And with that, she released Anastasia as well back into the waking world - to wherever Santi had decided to take them.

@antonia: Loved that post! I think we can end it here.

@grimmwald: Thanks! This was a lot of fun. Some of your descriptive passages there were next-level even for you! Through and through, one of my favourites I've done in a while.

That will indeed do.

@antonia: (Rereading it, I just had to reply)

There he stood, eyes locked with the ghost of a woman dear to him, genius, charm, god complex and all. Plucking the spec of dust that'd dared float on to his shoulder, Santiago freed it to the air. It was the kind of obsessive attention to detail that enabled him to appreciate the mind - and woman - that turned Kamelot into Avalon, and both Amaranth and Kelly - into Nastya. And it wouldn't do for him to leave her smile unanswered. "Patient", he wondered, for what? For her return, the real her, or for Nastya's growth? He imagined both but addressed the former. "Tis never been who I am. And I've been called half-mad for it. Too much fire I'd end up a victim of my own flames", he almost laughed, holding it behind a smile he wore well, suave as always.

"I'm not immortal", unlike Amaranth and Nastya. "So I can't wait forever. But I'll be patient. And not so daring", he laughed, the sound fading as his eyes swept back to Nastya. "I won't give up on her. She's a good friend", but he would hurl his spear at Amaranth's heart, be it with Nastya as his ally or Amaranth's. "Take care, bella". As he pulled back into a world real and physical, the Black Viper'd wait for the farewell between lioness and cub, then take Nastya elsewhere.

Man's fate now sat heavy on their shoulders.

@la-espada: Awww! It got even more touching! I'm a little sad now! Like a sad but hopeful farewell scene from the end of a movie or episode in a tv show.

@rosso: Thanks! That's very high praise from someone I consider to be one of the best pure writers on the site. Initially I wasn't going to respond to that last post but the reply hit me immediately right after and I couldn't pass it up.

@grimmwald: Those are usually the best ones! [That same feeling is what let me fire 'em off more quickly in this interaction (when I wasn't delayed by time constraints, sickness and energy drain.] At least they feel the best. Sometimes I'll find it's even worth it to completely put off reading a post until I think I'll have time to reply.