#syndacate

The Syndacate // Sic Semper Tyrannis - Dream SMP animation

Prologue

Titus Jeferey Keven Merlin Alex Edison Apple-fritter Jr. Jr. Sr., also known as TJ, grew up in one hell of a family.

Whether or not the gods kidnapped him or he was orphaned was unimportant- the important thing was somehow Waglington, on one of his midnight insomniac strolls that would make him crash later, ended up finding a sweet innocent baby. Wag wasn't heartless, so he did the responsible thing and wrapped the small, frail, and for some reason, not crying baby in his cloak and headed back to the tower. He hummed faintly an old song from when he was tiny, healing the small babe to see if it would start breathing again. It had stopped when he had picked it up. Waking up after a nightmare and having only two hours of sleep the entire week had made him fairly numb that night. The magic being pumped into the tiny form managed to reawaken it, and Wag smiled slightly when it started crying . The tower wasn't far and soon enough the wizard had made a semi-safe cradle and was feeding the young being little bits of milk.

"Not too fast," He crooned, still tired but faintly recalling the Ianitas and other Mini Mes he used to help Martha with- his exhausted brain not sending him spiraling like normal. "You'll toss up if you go that fast." 

Waglington was slow and gentle at the moment. Swaying from his body's overuse, he kept humming to the little one as he set up a sleeping area next to his, still not fully aware of what he was doing. He fell asleep watching a small bundle breathe. 

The next morning, when Wag woke up and saw the child that was, in fact, screaming bloody murder and starting to cause a panic, he decided two things. One- find out whose kid he stole, and maybe return the ginger screamer. And two- lock his doors at night so he doesn't do this kind of shit when he's half asleep again. 

The next hour and a half was spent calming the baby down, feeding said baby, contacting the others to get their asses over here right now, and no, he didn't care if they were busy, this was important.

You can imagine the collective shocked silence at finding out Wag had sleep-kidnapped a baby. A player baby at that- not a villager, but a legitimate player baby.

"I thought we were the only ones on the island?" Was the first very confused statement from Tucker.

"We are. So, either I managed to sleep teleport onto the mainland, which I doubt, or your gods dragged a baby here." Wag responded and after several moments of dead silence the ball of flesh let out a gurgle which then prompted Tom to state.

"We’re keeping him."

"Can someone go get Mot? He might be able to help." Sonja suggested.

Fa strano rendersi conto di quanto il destino torni sempre a bussare con una certa insistenza alla porta di casa. E se per caso decidi di non aprirgli, scopri comunque che ha un doppione delle chiavi... e sei comunque fottuto.

Avevo deciso di mollare tutto e lasciarmi quel genere di vita alle spalle.

Ma per quanto mi ostinassi a negarlo, ho continuato a tornare sui miei passi, in cerca di una qualche sorta di redenzione personale. E l’ho trovata. O meglio...Mi son lasciata trovare. Allo Shamrock mi sono messa a far due chiacchiere in compagnia del buon vecchio e “socievole” George, anche detto “Rip”. E no... non si tratta di un nomignolo dovuto alla sua natura di esecutore o boia, quanto piuttosto ad un diminuitivo della parola “Ripostiglio”...perchè Dio solo sa quanti manici di scopa nasconda quel tipo. E comunque parlare con lui mi ha portata bene. Ho finito col conoscere il nuovo giro di ragazzi che popola il locale, venendo a scoprire ben presto che della vecchia famiglia non ci son rimaste neppure le briciole. Meglio così... Mi evito di passar l’aspirapolvere.

Mr. D ha preso le redini del gruppo e a conti fatti sembra aver una testa ben affondata sulle spalle. Tanto meglio così.

Tempo al tempo e riprenderò in mano la mia vita, a partire da stasera.

Via il chip. Via il fiato sul collo. Via i limiti che mi ero imposta.