If you "owe" me, please by all means, take as long as you need! There is never any reason to rush. My friend is over tonight which means I won't be on, so apologies to the people I promised a reply to such as Hana I'm sorry bae it's drafted I just need to perfect it. I am pretty sure I'll have time tomorrow evening for them!
Also, I'd love to plot with *everyone* I thread with so yea, let's do that.
*Mars has like. 3 days before drop ;; if she gets no replies before then, I'll either drop her or perhaps muster a little thread. Although I don't plan on keeping her much longer, I'd still like to complete her current threads, so I may just hiatus her to allow her partners more time c:
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The impact of Roark’s fist is enough to send Mars back a few feet; she finds herself staggering, struggling to remain standing as stars glitter behind her hazy, maddened expression. Pools of blood drip to the worn floor of the inn, the horrified reality of having been struck in the face by her brother only fueling the tension.
Clearly, the years in the mines had made him tougher than she was anticipating, but all for the better. Mars found it much more satisfying when she won in a real fight; contrary to popular belief, beating someone when they were already down wasn’t quite her style.
“T-that’s more like it,” she huffs, wiping the blood from her lip and panting like an animal. Her feet, shaking from the weight of her overwhelming ferocity, buzz around the many options she could take from here. Whether to wait or to follow through with her previous threats, she’s hesitant to decide too soon. Surely the next move would turn the tides of their brawl. But she’s far past the brink of sane rationality.
Her opponent has finally entered the ring; there’s no more holding back.
Feet quicker than her other senses, Mars impulsively lunges towards her brother. She locks her gaze with his own – his eyes, unshielded, teeming with the disdain she’d been thirsty to witness the over the course of their years on the earth.
Her own assault wavers slightly as she glimpses the turmoil building within the boy’s glare. It hadn’t been there before, or perhaps it had simply gone unnoticed. But, the closer she approaches, the more rapid his inner hatred seems to manifest. It’s in the moment that a familiar, bitter aftertaste creeps back onto her taste buds – this is it. The finale is now upon them, and without question, only one of them would be leaving the inn alive tonight.
Fingers clawed, she reaches out towards him, realizing a little too late that she’s left herself wide open. Horror flashes like a mini-movie before her, a gulp mustering from the immediate regret of acting too soon.
Hearing Mars’ knock, Cyrus stood up, walked over to the door, checked the peephole, and quickly opened the door to let Mars in. Once she had stepped inside and Cyrus had closed the door, the blue-haired man gestured for his commander to sit on the rather beaten-up couch in the back of the room.
"Mars, I have summoned you here today becasue I am in need of your assistance." Cyrus paced over to his desk while talking, and shuffled some papers around. "The shift between the Distortion World and this one has not only left me with physcal ailments, but mental effects as well. While I currently have the physical effects under control, my mental condition has gone unchecked for far too long."
Cyrus pulled out one piece of paper from the pile on his desk, and started to walk back towards Mars. “However, that is about to change, as I have come up with a plan.” Cyrus handed his subordinate the piece of paper, which had a picture of a dark-colored smokey-looking creature with white hair and one greenish-blue eye visible. The picture was labled, “Darkrai”. There was some text scrawled next to the picture, detailing key points from legends surrounding Darkrai and a few established facts about the Pokemon.
Entering the darkened space, Mars was seated promptly, curiously watching and listening intently to Cyrus' explanation for her summoning. So it is in regards to his condition, she thought solemnly, her assumptions becoming verified. She knew not exactly what he spoke of, but felt a lump in her throat the moment he handed to her a sheet of paper with the image of a Pokemon she'd heard about, many times, while out on various missions.
"I thought it was only a myth..." Mars made a tiny peep as she realized she'd vocalized her thoughts. Clearing her throat, she peered up to her boss, anxiously hanging on each sentence with a growing sense of determination. The plan of action he seemed to have concocted after extensive research was undoubtedly dangerous. It was most certainly a fragile operation, even the slightest misstep capable of trashing all of the progress they had made thus far. But even upon piecing the fragments of the mission cohesively in her mind, Mars could feel a rush of adrenaline overcoming her once again.
After all, the insanely-brilliant mind of her boss was always on the verge of a breakthrough; perhaps it was in his ability to speak with such conviction that left Mars with no room for doubt. If he were most certain this scheme would work, she was in no position to deny him her assistance. After all, she, more than anyone, was pining for her master to become 'whole' once again - even if it took putting her own life at risk. Smiling for only a split second, Mars demolished the softness of her features, replacing them with a stern look, hardened with her strengthened resolve.
A trip to Canalave was in the cards for her now, and while continuing to hang on his every word, Mars focused her sights on Cyrus' plan of action with little else in mind. She was ready to leave immediately, ready to pursue Darkrai and finally put an end to Cyrus' torment. She found herself completely lost in the thought of Galactic redeeming themselves, rebuilding their enterprise with Cyrus in all of his former glory. Thoughts such as these occupied her mind, day in and day out, to no end...
"Do you have anything to add, Mars?
Do you believe that the plan is manageable?"
Hesitating to answer immediately, Mars grasped the backpack entrusted to her by Cyrus. Having the supplies pre-packed for use was comforting to her, letting her anxieties ease away for the time being. Without a doubt, she wanted to see things through. "Thank you for putting your trust in me," she spoke up, finally, eyes gleaming with the burning desire to do him justice. "I believe that this mission will be a success. Whatever it takes, I will most certainly follow you every step of the way."
Afterwards, Mars fished her Pokeballs from the belt-loop of her uniform, immediately releasing the Gallade that Cyrus had spoken of. The vigilant Pokemon appeared seconds later beside Honchkrow, and eyed his trainer with very little reluctance. Exchanging looks with the creature, Mars turned her full attention back to Cyrus, rising from the sofa and tugging the backpack over her shoulder. "I exist to serve you," she said, in an odd tone mixed with both readiness and unwavering honesty. "Both my Pokemon and myself are ready for your command."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Any thought of escaping again was futile, as Mars was quick and already had Jillian against a wall. Despite being a few inches taller, the commander was still intimidating enough where height didn’t even matter. The fog only made her capture all the more eerie.
“Team Galactic is crumbling – you realize this, right?”
Everyone knows this. It was something Jillian was more hopeful for, if Team Galactic fell then finally her chain of fate would be in her own hands at last. Snorunt would be hers again and the dark evil would perish from Sinnoh. Mars and the other commanders were trying to revive it and Jillian hoped to Arceus that they wouldn’t succeed.
In an utter instant, Mars felt her heart (or what was left of it) sink into the pit of her stomach. She broke out into a cold sweat, feeling faint but doing nothing to give off the impression of being in total shock at the revelation. She knew that in order to proceed to Phase Four of their overall scheme of things, drastic measures were to be taken. But, this drastic? No, this was a whole new low for Galactic, one she wasn't expecting in the slightest.
The plan wouldn't do, not one bit. A bomb...?! Mars was still clutching her chest and diverting her fierce gaze to the corners of the misty enclosure. Do they really expect a bomb to be the solution to this dilemma? Surely, this is Jupiter's idea. That bitch will do anything to make herself seem devoted to the cause, I swear. Even if it is demolish half of a city. I wouldn't be surprised if this was conducted all behind Cyrus' back, surely he isn't aware of her intentions.
It was true, tensions where running high at the headquarters. And if Jillian was being honest with her allegations, the hush hush nature of things in the control room were driving the gap further between the commanders and their chief. Although, Mars entrusted Cyrus with her life. She knew what he stood for, and although destruction was certainly not out of the picture, only the minds of her colleagues could produce such a heinous plot to further Galactic's foothold in Sinnoh.
There was but one thing Mars could do: cancel out Jupiter's plan, and reinstate her own. An invasion was necessary, but only if the bomb was nullified. When it came to Galactic, Mars was as relentless as the rest - but even she could admit that this was going too far, too quick.
She knew of only two possible locations for the detonator to be located: either the Foreign Culture Building, or the complex of condominiums in the residential area of the city. Hearthome covered a great expanse of land, but those two areas were susceptible enough for an implant of the bomb with little to no visibility. That's got to be it...
In an instant, Mars was snapped back into reality as the Grunt mumbled for a reply. Glaring back at Jillian, the commander sucked up her disgust and the distaste in her mouth. They'd have to act fast.
"We've got to go to the Foreign Building, and immediately." Mars wasted no time in backing away from the Grunt. Now that she had the information, the Grunt was no longer of use. Unless she were to return to Jupiter and inform her of Mars' rebuttal, which, by all means, would bring everything to a head. And Mars couldn't allow that, not under such circumstances. They'd need to work in unison to carry the ordeal out and revise the takeover. This had nothing to do with Mars being praised by Cyrus for her quick wits. This was strictly about the good of Galactic, their campaign, and everything they stood for.
"You can tell me the other details on the way, but for now we must make haste." She waited for the Grunt to lead, careful to keep her eyes trained on the underling while loyalties still remained ambiguous.
There it was again, that awful shrieking cry of Giratina, mocking Cyrus, coming from the one place he couldn’t run or hide from- his own head. It was almost like being stuck in a dream that he couldn’t fully wake up from, a nightmare where escape was impossible. However, Cyrus was a stubborn man, and the hopelessness of the situation just made him want to fight it more. He had to try.
This is why Cyrus had made the decision to confront the problem head-on. No, he wasn’t going to go back to the Distortion World and battle Giratina. After all, he was just starting to get over the physical effects of living there for so long, going back would just be silly. Besides, he had no method of restraining Giratina, he would once again find himself completely at the beast’s mercy.
Twisting the key and bolting both locks on her front door, Mars turned to face the city of Jubilife. The slums, never too active other than the occasional homeless pedestrian or a stray Glameow rummaging through a dumpster, had been her home for only a couple of years now. It was strange, being able to call a place 'home'. The scene before her, albeit painting a less than glamorous picture, offered her a sense of security she'd never known. She flashed a smile before tugging the coat over her shoulders, skipping down the stairwell and briskly into the streets.
The call she had received earlier wasn't requiring much to be done. Traveling was unnecessary, seeing as Cyrus' personal lab was near the outskirts of Jubilife, within close range of Mars' own private apartment. This made things a little more bearable for the commander; traveling great distances worried her, at this point, for anything could happen on the open road that could very well land her in hot water. Not only did an entire region despise her for her abhorrent reputation, but she was also a very recognizable individual - two things that, when combined, didn't do the girl any favors.
Shuffling her boots, the redhead considered the possibilities behind Cyrus' summoning of her. Perhaps he was going to vilify her for past failures or her conflicts with fellow members of Galactic. But that was all old news; surely, after she had assisted in Cyrus' rehabilitation following his escape from the Distortion World, her master would care very little of conduct happening before Galactic's fall. For all she knew, it was regarding his health - something that, when thought upon, made her stomach churn.
Mars tossed her paranoia into a void of indifference, following the familiar avenues until she came upon the door of the building that secured Cyrus' personal laboratory. The Galactic Headquarters was once full of rooms dedicated to the sciences utilized in their efforts of recreating the known universe. But none of those facilitated Galactics' grandest of schemes - Cyrus was the only being with that wealth of knowledge. Wherever it was that he kept their research archived, Mars had always been positive that most of it was scattered beyond their headquarters. Never was he a man to keep all of his eggs in one basket, after all.
Knocking twice on a door near the back of the building, she took a step back, arms locked to her sides. Whatever it was that Cyrus was plotting, she'd wholeheartedly accept her duties. He'd done so much for her already, and regardless of her past relations with a few Galactic commanders that will remained unnamed, Mars was the one to stay behind. As long as Cyrus had a will, Mars would find a way. No matter how life-threatening that way might be.
Somehow, Roark continues to provoke her. Even with her grip tightening, Mars is unable to silence him from the jabs, maddening her further to a point beyond rage. Perhaps she had underestimated her brother. Half-hoping he'd give out, he doesn't, leaving her scrambling for another means of satisfying her anger.
Having had enough of it finally, Mars squeezes his neck viciously; he was correct - she did want to make him bleed, before she rids of him for good. But, longer she gazes into his eyes, the worse it builds; thoughts, memories, unsavory feelings altogether, rush over her, reminding her again of that wretched life she was born to lead. Her brother served as that reminder, constantly, rattling Mars with disdain over and over and over again.
These thoughts wouldn't do. Using what strength she could muster, the girl tosses him to the side, releasing him from her grasp momentarily to wipe beads of sweat from her forehead.
She watches him falter a few feet away, before lunging towards him once more, tackling him onto the ground. "Really?" She cackles down at him, straddling his waist and gripping both his wrists so he remains pinned beneath her. "I thought you had a little more fight in you; aren't you my brother? Surely, your apple didn't fall that far from the tree."
Mars leers down upon him, licking her lips in delight. As she waits for him to squirm, she considers the possibilities. Surely, his arrival had been fate's way of bringing her ever-enduring anger to a head. However, if she were to dispose of him so easily, it'd hardly satisfy the beast manifesting within her gut.
Scrolling up a circle scarf and tucking it into a corner of her compact travel suitcase, the nurse places her back directly in front of her mother. Mama Fairchild is a most august and loving progenitor a child could ever ask for - a woman sensitive to her baby’s feelings even though she tends to make cast iron decrees out of the expectations she harnesses for Clementine.
She has buzzed restlessly about her little girl’s room for the last hour since the change of holiday plans had been broken to her. Even for Clementine who’s become adroit at gaining the trust of others, it is truly difficult to herd a fretting mother’s concerns in the general direction of reassurance.
The nurse bites her lower lip. As nonchalantly as she’d acted when she’d informed her mother of the crisis, her casual confidence had all been a facade employed to show her unfailing faith to her career, to do her parents proud for the sheer caliber of devotion she has for her job.
Rapidly approaching, the nurse calls out towards Mars Eris, seemingly in a good enough mood to make the trip back to Sinnoh bearable. Even with the other woman's comments regarding the aircraft, the commander remains steadfast, failing to flinch with the tenseness that she exuded previously. In mere moments, the two would be hoisted into the air, leaving the reoccurring threat of Clementine's refusal for Cyrus' treatment far behind. Once out of that comfort zone, the redhead would finally be able to swallow the gut-wrenching feeling that had made itself at home in her throat.
She doesn't respond to the nurse's remarks immediately, instead beckoning her to come closer towards the helicopter. It was a rather inconspicuous chopper, a piece of equipment Mars had remodeled incredibly, removing any indications of its affiliation with Team Galactic. Not only was it able to traverse far and wide across the vast world regions, but it also served as an incredibly safe form of transportation. Methods such as teleportation required a trainer to have a physical attachment with a specific location - for which reason, such means were simply unreliable. Besides, Mars wasn't a fan of the sensations experienced through teleportation and would utilize the skill only when absolutely necessary.
Smiling again, with a forced grin of contentment, Mars tries to soothe the woman with a few more words as she assists her into the cabin of the helicopter. "The flight to Jubilife is relatively short," she murmurs, exchanging views from the incoming nurse practitioner and the man seated in the cockpit. A faithful lackey of Mars, he exuded both charisma and self-assurance, dedicated to providing the necessary support for such a venture. The commander was confident, Clementine wouldn't suspect a thing from him other than to oversee both women arriving safely to their destination.
Within a few moments, Mars heaves the door of the cabin closed, and the rotors begin to revolve both above and behind the aircraft. Soon, the women are hovering mere inches from the dusty ground of the route beneath them; in the very same instance, whirling like a cyclone, the carrier boosts them far and beyond the tiny town of Cherrygrove. Mars watches the houses shrink into the distance, and with a crooked smile, releases a miniature sigh in ultimate gratification.
The two sit in silence, settling in as the grunt maneuvers the chopper, Sinnoh-bound. When it reaches the point of unbearability, Mars clears her throat and shifts in her chair a little before glancing up across the from herself towards the vibrant nurse. "Again," the young commander breaks the ice, rather casually. "This favor of yours - it's incredibly bold, don't you think?"
Slowly, the redhead could feel the guise she'd built up slipping away. She allows herself to be a little more fluid with her mannerisms, a playful hint of both sarcastic admiration and utter disbelief tainting her voice. She is most certainly sure Clementine is keeping her wits about her. But, judging based on appearances alone, Mars could assume that the Johto native wasn't as competent a battler as she was a medical specialist.
But above all else, the young woman reminds herself that not only is Clementine a skilled practitioner, but that Cyrus is a very sick man. Mars would never entertain the thought that this mission was a mere scam - although the fine details from both parties had yet to be revealed between each other, the commander was certain - her former leader would receive the immediate attention he most desperately needed. Whether or not it would be taken by force had only yet to be seen.
He had always thought it one hell of a name to give a kid.
Mars, Roman God of war and violence.
He had always thought it one hell of a nickname to give oneself.
But, now that he thought of it, the name fit her very well. He supposed that made him Baldur, Norse God of peace and all that is good and innocent. Wrong culture, he tells himself with an inward smirk.
Roark takes several deep breaths, trying to calm himself before he really flies off the handle. He watches her release her Yanmega.
He wonders where she got it. He wonders if the creature knows what sort of person its master is and whether it’s aware that it’s part of Team Galactic or not. Either way, he feels sorry for it, having to fight for one family’s squabble.
His outraged expression curls up into a twisted smirk and he releases his Onix, watching the giant snake bend its form around the confines of the room.
"Onix, prepare stealth rock and then return," he says coldly, not even flinching as pointed stones spring from the earth. He returns the Pokemon, getting his attacker ready, and he says, "Mars, I could just kill you."
"Kill me?" My, that was rather gutsy of him. It appears as though some of her negativity has influenced her brother, who is across the room, delivering a death stare so vile, it almost makes her skin crawl. Almost.
"I'd like to see you try."
It's going to take a lot more than a lousy stealth rock to deter Mars, however; she has a job to do, first and foremost. She isn't about to let all her hard work for circle the drain because of this bittersweet reunion.
Roark has to be disposed of, and she knows it; his interference brings back more than just painful memories. It reminds Mars of her own mediocrity, of some fabricated favoritism between the two siblings in the eyes of their parents.
How they looked at him, and how they looked at Mars - she could swear, the difference was far too drastic for her to harbor anything but negative feelings towards them all. Whether or not this was a product of her overactive imagination was beyond her.
She's developed these feelings, they were now a part of her.
Yet, on and on he goes, about resisting the urge to hurt her. She wasn't afraid of that - if anything, it almost makes her mouth water.
For far too long, she's kept the thought of hurting her family buried deep within her tortured soul. They hadn't done her any wrong, showering her with opportunities, and giving her a chance to make something of herself. This wasn't enough, it was never going to be enough.
The thought of slitting their throats was still fresh in her fantasies - she savored that vengeance, obsessing over the idea every now and again, when she was feeling out of luck in the eyes of her superiors.
Mars was just that bad seed that sprouted too early.
So young she was, when the little redhead joined the ranks of Galactic's elite.The pressure was a lot for her to handle. Try as she might, perhaps it was finally catching up with her.
But she was far from accepting that sort of fate.
"I might just take you up on that offer," Mars barks; her temper bubbling over like a kettle left on the stove for too long. Looking towards the Yanmega, she covers her ears and commands the bewildered Pokemon. "Screech, now!"
In a heartbeat, the entire room fills with a harsh, vibrating sound. Even with her ears covered, Mars feels her head pulsate next to the enormous dragonfly. However, it was the perfect opportunity for her to strike.
Swiftly bypassing the stones protruding from the floor of the inn, she lunges towards Roark. Reaching with both hands, she fastens them around his neck, in a bid to asphyxiate her brother and end his banter, once and for all.
"I'll feed my anger, one way or another," she smirks, tightening her grip around his neck with incredible force. Even with the dizzying feeling that is slowly creeping over her, now was her chance.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"You mean, besides the fact that we are aiming to recreate a much better universe than the current one we're wasting away in? Sorry hun, but that's about it. Why not join the most fulfilling effort to rid the world of such useless trivialities like emotions? Count me in."
"One thing I cannot stand is people who take their sweet time to get something done. There's only so much 'planning' and 'preparation' to be done - action is the only way to go about accomplishing any goal."
Would you rather be really attractive or really smart?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Kasarin’s tail swings and whips across the sand, a cloud of dry dust raising by hers and Clementine’s feet. It’s almost as if the Luxray’s exemplary eyesight can see right through this Eris’ ploy; the lynx will not allow this stranger’s untrustworthy advances to penetrate her guards and capture her trainer by the ear of the nurse’s gullibility. No, her master isn’t gullible - her heart is simply cast in gold, and it is most certainly something that has been exploited in the past.
Ducking her head close to the nurse’s shin, she trains her sharp, radiographic eyesight in on Eris, hackles standing on end as the woman withdraws from Clementine’s good intentions and clasps both of the beflowered woman’s hands.
In quite the odd occurrence, the dust finally settles and Mars is caught completely off guard. It appears that Clementine isn't as credulous as the commander was beginning to believe. Backtracking would do no good, not when Mars was this deep into the conquest.
But, for one reason or another, she suspects the nurse's Luxray to be somewhat responsible for this sudden change in atmosphere. Those things were a little too observant for other girl's liking.
What this woman is genuinely implying remains somewhat cryptic for Mars, who had assumed she caught her prey with literally no chase. And although it may be a product of her own culpable pretense, it wasn't a feeling she could shake.
On the other hand, however, the commander is somewhat able to breathe a sigh of relief; she's as ready as ever to board the helicopter, resting on Route 30, and head towards Jubilife without another moment to lose. If all it takes is a little more sweet-talk, Mars is absolutely determined to sugarcoat, and perhaps even glaze, her victim a bit further.
Whatever it would take to see that Cyrus gets the attention he so desperately needs, she's more than willing to put both her life and dignity on the line.
"That is more than alright with me," her eyes sparkle with appreciation. Even if the nurse's obscurity catches her off guard, her conditions seem to be somewhat reasonable. The rave reviews plastered all over the internet were more than enough to enlighten Mars on Clementine's preeminent capabilities. "You truly are a saint, miss Fairchild."
Even if her aura reeks of suspicion, Mars' motives are pure - the level of concern she feels for Cyrus could not be estimated; seeing him suffer only brought onto her an unbearable pain she couldn't quite define with words. These actions, the games she was playing, spoke for those emotions that she - time and time again - wasn't able to rid herself of.
Releasing the nurse's tender hands, Mars pulls a move that wasn't quite in sync with her typical bearings; leaning in for an embrace, she wraps both arms around the other woman. Situating her head on the other's shoulder, she chokes up every emotion that has been running amok, both on her mind and in her heart.
It is the strangest feeling, holding Clementine in a hug, of all things. Words are utterly useless in this instance. Her sincerity, perhaps, was only communicable through touch. Mars can only hope some would translate - enough of it to reassure Clementine that she is making the right decision, irregardless of both Cyrus' and the commander's own illicit backgrounds.
"I've a helicopter resting just outside of town, a little to the north, on Route 30," she says as pleasantly as possible, sliding from Clementine and wiping away the remainder of the teary-eyed performance from earlier (as well as new ones that had formed in the moment prior). "If you would kindly grab your things, and whatever else you find necessary for treatment, I'd be more than appreciative to meet you there."
She takes another step back, offering a slight bow and rising to meet with Clementine's eyes once more. Giving her this much room to roam from Mars' sight is a risky move, but one she is willing to take. And if the situation calls for her to return - to use force, if it came to it - she is as equally accepting of those circumstances.
Slowly turning, she gives another small wave to Clementine and the Luxray at her feet. "See you soon?" are the commander's final words, as she gears herself in the direction of the helicopter that was awaiting its two passengers.
