Private - Hallowed Be Thy Name

SALVATION

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Parties have never been Iván's thing, especially not parties at night. To Iván, night time was better spent sleeping, recuperating, refreshing your mind and body in preparation for the next day. None of this superficial, unnecessarily expensive, pride-motivated, self-pimping. Granted that Iván has never had a taste of this kind of wealth and reputation in-game, this was all ridiculous to him. Considering his real-world status, however, this was all but familiar, both the masquerade and the disdain.

The invitation had come to him as a small letter wrapped with the fanciest ribbon he had ever seen and a noble's stamp, an unfamiliar seal that was made familiar by the cackling messenger. That cackling should have served as a warning to Iván, a warning to consider that what he was going to get himself into shouldn't be taken lightly, shouldn't be judged, cast aside, because of what floated on the surface. When he got here, however, all his judgment seemed correct: This was boring as frogs.

"How are you?"

At the sound of that voice, or more precisely, at the sight of the owner of that voice, Iván discreetly slithered somewhere else, somewhere far. The heiress of the House of Hilton, Lady Aida, the owner of that sweet voice, had just come of age, and by come of age, that meant she no longer needed her uncle's guidance to keep her estate thriving, her family's name in good condition. She no longer needed anyone's guidance, having finally ascended her family's throne, so to speak.

With Astor's declaration of democracy, this was pretty much all for show. Still, the nobility do have the reputation of being proud, so much so that keeping appearances will always be a priority for these people. Iván was not like them, so his best bet was simply to observe and get out of the way. Lady Aida didn't seem to notice him, however, as she continued discussing pleasantries with two other ladies, both seemed to be of her own status. Iván sighed, realizing how close of a call that would've been.

"I hate people," Iván murmured to himself out of pure boredom. He really did not want to be there, but he was already there, so he might as well just try his best to stomach all of this nonsense. He furrowed his eyebrows, extremely uncomfortable at exposing his face in that suit, with only his dark-tinted glasses serving as a defense. He felt naked, and not in a fun way.

"Tell me about it," an older gentleman made himself heard from behind Iván, surprisingly catching an expert illusionist off-guard, though to be fair, Iván was not here as an expert illusionist. At least not intentionally. "All these people celebrating the death of the House of Hilton. What a shame."

With an eyebrow raised, Iván willed himself to remember the old man's familiar face. He has seen it before, somewhere, but it--- "You're Lord Byron Hilton? Lady Aida's uncle, guardian..."

Lord Byron raised an eyebrow himself, a grin on his face, "It seems my reputation precedes me."

Of course, it does. You're a butthole. Iván mustered a grin of his own, trying his best to be as polite as he could, "Always, my lord. It is an honor and a great privilege to be in the presence of such a powerful and respectable man as yourself."

Lord Byron scoffed, pretending to not care about such things, although it was obvious that he did. From what Iván knew, this man was the very personification of pride. He was proud of his station, of his family name, and of his control over the Hilton estates, though that last part might no longer be true, considering Lady Aida's ascension on this very day. "The pleasure is all mine, though for the life of me, I can't remember who you are, if I've ever met you, your lordship?"

Iván froze. Should he have just simply used illusion magic to make himself look someone else? He knew no one from here, however, and the few people he knew, he didn't know how to act like them. Illusion magic wasn't as great as a disguise compared to another Mastery. It was limited. Often, it simply would not suffice. Maybe he can just use his phantasmal spells to cause this old fart a stroke. Nope. That would be flat-out murder. That's not something he would, should do. Well, I guess I'm going to jail again.

@Kepler

 

Here I am, Kepler thought, My very first field mission and it's certainly something else. Well, my orders were to watch, observe, and learn, and provide support only when necessary... but really... this assignment seems pretty tough.

Admiring the lavish scenery, Kepler did her best to blend in. Her age of 16---real life and in game---was already a detriment, so Kepler had done her best to research online a few tricks to appear a little older. Boosted heels, make up tutorials, an up-do, Kepler had pulled out all the stops except padding her chest. The girl had her pride. Overall, she'd managed to pull off a somewhat convincing 18. Staying mobile, moving from girl's group to girl's group, Kepler worked at making acquaintances while scanning for any persons of interest. Suddenly, her eyes fell on her partner in crime and superior, Ivan.

Jeez Senpai you cut a good figure in a suit, but all that goes to heck if you're just going to make a face like you just sniffed some moldy cheese. Oyo~? Orrr apparently not, maybe you know exactly what you're doing...

Seeing Ivan approached by one Lord Byron, Kepler was momentarily impressed...until she noticed her partner subtly stiffen...

Whoop~?! Scratch that, just hang in there partner~!

Kepler quickly weaved through the crowd until she found herself sliding right onto Ivan's left arm. It wasn't an ideal position for either of them, but tonight they had a part to play. Kepler looked up at Ivan while effecting her best cinematically-inspired period-piece girlish coyness. It actually sounded a little like a stereotypical Southern Belle...

"Oh my Dear Dr. Coleridge~ now shame on you~! You most certainly failed to mention that you were acquainted with the Lord whose genius has maintained the esteemed glory of House Hilton through these awful awful times~"

Smiling, Kepler's features exaggerated a look of shock as she leaned in and whispered.

"...even when so many others have cowed to the keel of the whims of our Mad King. A tragedy, a tragedy~ too many hours spent playing amongst the rabble I imagine... how does one say it Doctor? It gives one some strange humors..."

Leaning back, Kepler released Ivan's arm and curtsied.

"---ah but where are my manners~ my name is Ms. Mary Shelley, the good Doctor's secretary. What an absolute pleasure it is to meet you."

Hopefully that works, Kepler thought. Doctors, while not Nobles, still carried a certain level of prestige in polite society----as learned men in the service of their betters. At times they were even feared, for what secrets they had uncovered while treating their patients behind closed doors...

 

I could tell him I'm a visiting prince from a faraway land... Prince Ali of House Ababwa? No, I don't have an elephant with me. Or camels or peacocks. What about the woman who saved all of... Oh, wait, I'm not a woman. And China doesn't exist here. Wait, he doesn't know China doesn't exist here, does he? Hmm. Ugh, I'm still not a woman.

While Iván scrambled for an answer to Lord Byron's question, including wondering if he should have just used illusion magic to wear that purple god-awful female disguise, one of the newest members of the Witch Ops, and Iván's partner in this specific crime, came to his aid. If Iván was someone else, he'd probably felt a bit emasculated at the notion of a woman, a 16-year-old girl really, saving him from certain doom, though technically doom wasn't that certain in this scenario. Thankfully, Iván wasn't someone else. Iván was Iván, and he didn't really care about that sort of thing. A save was a save, after all, and he understood that not all battles have to be won. Some of them, you just need to survive.

"Ah, a doctor," Lord Byron's facial expression eased up a bit, now sporting a gentle smile, a mask, a facade, meant to lure a person into a feeling of comfort. Iván has had experience with this sort of illusion, not even a form of magic, and he did not like it. Not one bit. With illusion magic, you at least knew you were intentionally being fooled. With politics, you never really know, even after you've been fooled. "My apologies. I should have realized that by the way you carried yourself, your spectacles, your secretive hatred of people."

The "good" Lord Byron grinned and chuckled to himself, forcing Iván to awkwardly let out a chuckle himself, just to make sure everything was all right, nothing would be amiss to the heiress' uncle, debatably the most powerful man out there tonight. Lord Byron did not seem to notice the awkwardness in Iván. Instead, his attention seemed to have been drawn from the "doctor" to his secretary. @Kepler doubled down on the charm tonight. She looked taller, though Iván couldn't tell why she was wearing all that make-up, oblivious to the concept of aging in terms of femininity.

"You're lucky to have such a beautiful secretary, doctor," Lord Byron continued, eyes on Kepler instead of Iván. The usually masked illusionist narrowed his eyes from behind his dark-tinted glasses towards the heinous lord, well-versed in his alleged depravity and rumored cruelty. He had not even noticed he had tightly gripped Kepler's arm, though neither would have Lord Byron himself. "...and someone so full of youth."

Lord Byron grimaced as he looked beyond them, at an older man fast approaching them, him, "Not all of us are blessed with such luck."

The aforementioned older man, which Iván realized was Lord Byron's aid of sorts, his most trusted acquaintance, or at least someone whom he trusted enough to always be around him all the time, whispered something into the lord's ear, ignoring both Iván and Kepler. Lord Byron did not seemed amused with what he was being told. Sighing, he faked a smile and excused himself from the pair, swiftly taking Kepler's hand to kiss it, "I'm afraid I am needed elsewhere, Ms. Shelley and Doctor..."

"Coldrich," Iván deadpanned, giving Lord Byron a gentle nod and a gentler smile. "Doctor Coldrich."

Lord Byron simply smiled at Iván one last time, flashing Kepler a wider and more enthusiastic grin, before finally leaving them, walking away with his aid, disappearing through curtains and into a room on the second floor of the Hilton estate. Sighing, Iván turned to Kepler, immuned to her charm and attractiveness purely because of the same reason she would be immune to his charm and attractiveness, if he had either, "Well, that was close. Where've you been?"

 

"Ugh... after all my hours slaving over the needle, in the end I'm going to have to burn these gloves.. yup... no question about that... Even so, I'm glad i took the trouble... the idea of his lips touching my bare...ugh.... Oyo~? Did you say something Boss?"

Releasing Ivan's arm, Kepler placed both hands behind her and leaned against the wall. They were now side by side.

"Ah~! right~ right~ my report... my report... well~ well~ Boss~~~ I never pegged you for having an interest in girl talk~ If I'd known~ the trip over here would've been so much more fun, ya know~?"

Laughing, Kepler rolled her eyes.

"Cynthia likes Brandon, Danita has been pining after Alexander, Helen loves Oswald, and Mary believes shes destined for Remington on account of his socks matching her.... well i can't say what---!"

Kepler continued laughing like a glass bell before her eyes sharpened...

"And we ladies will be retiring to the powder room in fifteen minutes... which... is also when our Lady Aida will be retiring to her quarters to change dresses for her official debut. It'll be an 'I'm a grown woman now' sort of gesture... and then... there's the toast... and then she's officially in charge of the Hilton estate. That sort of thing~ I'm sure you've determined the countless security risks each of those things entail, right Boss?"

Kepler checked a watch on the back of her wrist.

"So what's the plan~? Maybe it's time for a costume change~? I confess I've always wanted to try on a maid outfit at least once~"

 

Iván stared at @Kepler, wondering if she really was her age in the real world. For all he knew, this 16-year-old girl could’ve been a burly 32-year-old French dude, which wasn’t anything bad of course. It’s just that… Why? That said, Kepler did exhibit the stereotypical traits of a teenager, so she probably was who she was, though that would make Alphabet Chocolate a child. Iván closed his eyes, shaking his head. This is not the time to get sidetracked, brain. Focus!

“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean about girl talk,” Iván frowned at his understudy, confusion reigning on his face. How did he get in this position, anyway? Hasn’t he made it clear to everyone he’s not the kind to play leader? He’s not even that social. But they were there now, so might as well. “…or who those people are.”

As Kepler continued talking, however, and as Iván listened, it became clear to him that her gender was giving them a valuable assist in their efforts. Unlike Iván, who was a man and also terrible with socializing, Kepler was a girl who could easily get access to the Lady Aida, a feat that would make both their lives easier. Or more precisely, it already has.

A maid? Iván looked over Kepler from head to toe and nodded in agreement. She would look good as a maid. She could pull that outfit off. Effortlessly, too. For some reason, Iván started imagining himself in that maid outfit, which he immediately regretted. He really, absolutely, needed to focus. That encounter with the Lord Byron messed him up somehow. They couldn’t afford such distractions. “Yes, uhm, make sure to keep an eye on the heiress. Stay on her. I’ll try to find out where Lord Byron went to.”

Iván was already two steps away from where Kepler stood before he remembered something. He stopped, and a few seconds, later turned to his partner. What was it that his mentor had told him? Always make sure to inspire confidence in your partner before you split up. Or something like that. Sighing, Iván pointed at Kepler, “Don’t die, you.”

Nailed it.

Iván proceeded to go after Lord Byron, disappearing into the crowd of dying nobility.

 

As Ivan stared over the course of her report, Kepler couldn't help but study his features. He was a very funny person after all~

Oyo~? Maybe he really does like girl talk~?

Hearing Ivan's response however, Kepler mentally smirked...

Righhhhhht~ Sure thing Senpai~ And a maid fetish too~

And just like that, her account was finished. Kepler didn't have to wait long for her next orders. When Ivan pointed at her, Kepler responded with a thumbs up in kind.

"And don't you go frowning so hard that you implode~"

Winking, Kepler gave a little wave as she turned and went in the opposite direction. It was time to get to work.

***

And that should do it...

Having slipped into the servant's quarters, Kepler bravely found a uniform closet where she then 'borrowed' one of the hanging maid outfits. It was tough getting dressed in the dark, but the girl managed. She did however make a somewhat pained face when she realized that she'd have to leave behind her self-tailored dress.

It'll be a waste if I don't come back for it later...

Tucking it into a corner out of sight, Kepler resolved to do so and exited.

In retrospect, I'm really really happy that nobody happened to open that door...!

Gripping her skirt with both hands, Kepler glanced left and right, but there didn't seem to be a soul around. Kepler then checked her watch.

It should still be about 5 minutes until the ladies are supposed to retire... that would occupy the maids-in-waiting sure... but the kitchen staff should be taking advantage of the lull by setting the desert course out. Something feels off... Either way, I need to move... Let's see... the back stairs to the next floor should be... yes. I remember.

The servant's way to the upper floor was down the hall and to the left. From there, it was the furthest right door. That door lead to a main staff atrium which would also grant access to the upper floor... Kepler followed the map she had traced in her memory and quickly ascended the stairs.

Another empty hallway huh...

At the top of the servant's entrance to the second floor, things were again strangely quiet. Kepler had confirmed that the kitchen was still busy on the way up, but it was almost like most of the servants were gathered in one of two places... The Kitchen... and The Powder Room....

---Oh no... are they trying to isolate our client...?!

Kepler hurried.

Straight down this hall, then a right, then after that I take the next left....

Breathing heavily, Kepler made her down the hall and took a right. From there she proceeded toward the final turn only----suddenly, a servant meandered out into the hallway. It was a man in butler's attire, at least... it seemed like a man.... but there was a strange shadow hovering over his features. It was a dark aura----something that could be felt on an instinctual level, but was certainly invisible to the naked eye. It gave Kepler an uncanny feeling.

Huh---? He seems to be in a daze.... hypnotism...? No... It doesn't seem to.... Guh! So annoying~! There simply isn't enough information to act on~!

"Uhm~ Excuse me~~~~! I happen to be new on the job~ So~ Uhmm~ Lady Hilton's room is just around that corner, yes~? I'm~like~ supposed to help her get dressed, okay~?"

The butler seemed to lurch, it was unsteadily heading her way...

Ah jeez... here we go~

Reaching into her apron, Kepler gripped the handle of her Moonraker. And wearing a warm smile, the new maid waited for the spook to enter a range where she was sure she wouldn't miss.

 

“I don’t frown that much,” Iván muttered to himself as he discreetly checked out the magic compass from within his suit.

To an unsuspecting stranger, Iván looked like he was simply checking the time on his nifty pocket watch. To a suspecting familiar person, however, who was in the know, they would most definitely know that that nifty pocket watch was actually a magic compass that could only point to the direction of a particular magic pin that Iván had earlier managed to get on Lord Byron’s cuff. Tinkering could be fun. He made a mental note to thank Lightning Ironworks after this was all said and done, what was left of it anyway.

Through a hall, up some stairs, through another hall, Iván went in the direction the magic compass pointed to. The thing worked like an actual compass, except that they tweaked it to specifically point at a very specific kind of magic. So many specific things. Kinda like radio waves. Or how one text message finds its way to a specific number. That sort of stuff. Iván was just glad he had something like it in his toolbox. It was a pretty easy way to track people down. Well, within a short distance anyway.

Iván stopped, dead in his tracks, when he heard grumbling somewhere close. He swallowed air, his muscles tightening, his fists clenching, slowly, carefully, looking around him, feeling things around him. He wasn’t a huge fan of getting surprised, especially with his life on the line. Dying, death, wasn’t something he feared, but re-spawning somewhere else when he was in the middle of a mission wasn’t something he’d like to have on his Witch Ops resume, especially since he was with a recruit.

Another grumbling. Iván swiftly turned around. Nothing. The hallway was empty. The only thing that was there was him. More rumbling. Iván turned to other end of the hallway. Still nothing. More rumbling. Iván turned to the other end of the hallway. Nothing for the third time. Again more rumbling. Iván took his time processing his thoughts until he narrowed his eyes, not amused, at the realization of what was going on. He turned to his stomach. It was grumbling.

“Purple god darn it!” The usually masked illusionist took some beef jerky from inside his suit’s pocket and chomped on it, also taking a swig of his ant juice to help it go down quickly. If nothing else, his own body was going to end up killing him. “Where the heck are you? I need to go back to the buffet.”

 

Well, it's High Noon somewhere...

As the man continued to not quite shamble--- but never the less---awkwardly walk towards her, Kepler drew her Moonraker from her front apron pouch, leveled it at the man's center of the mass, and fired.

A small blue streak shot out knocking the man on his rear. A second short charge and he was on his back. Kepler then fired one more for good measure... it was a good thing she had set her weapon to stun.

Cautiously approaching the downed target, Kepler, rolled him over with her boot and cuffed him. She then cuffed his ankles and quickly gagged his mouth with a cleaning rag.

Kepler wasn't taking any chances. Rolling the man back over, Kepler checked his pulse and.... out of all the possibilities.... she hadnt expected for her own blood to run cold.

No way...

Kepler glanced at her Moonraker----no it was set to stun. With the arcane charge she'd given it... there was no mistake.

...huh? Whaaa...?

Standing, Kepler dragged the corpse (?) Into a side room. Continuing to watch the incapacitated man, She then reached for her crosage and spoke into it.

"Uhmmmm~~~ Boss~? Long story short, I think I kinda sorta just killed a deadguy.... I know that makes no sense... but like... one second he was apparently dead and moving, then i incapacitated him, and now he's dead and still. Any thoughts? I've actually read a treatise on Necromancy, but what the heck would a Necromancer be doing here...?

...I'm getting off track, I'd like to perform an autopsy, but this guy's just made me 5 minutes late to the rendezvous. Aida's wide open, so I'm leaving this guy tied up in a room for later, kay? Be careful----I know we didn't agree on alert colors, but a code red is pretty universal, yes?"

Giving one last glance at the ...living....corpse... Kepler shut the door behind her and took off in a dead heat. The time for subtlety was over. Dashing down the hall, Kepler charged her weapon, and throwing open Lady Aida Hilton's door, froze at what she saw.

 

ASCENSION

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It took him some time but Iván finally found where Lord Byron had gone to, except he was too late. They were too late. As Iván stood there, processing what had happened, what was happening, where he was, where they were, he locked eyes with @Kepler who had entered the room through another door. Iván slowly, carefully, raised his suit's cuff closer to his mouth before speaking, "Hello. What the hell are you wearing? Why the hell are you wearing what you're wearing?"

That was, perhaps, or maybe not perhaps, the worst thing to say to your partner when someone else was getting choked to her death in the same room. Iván's genius contributed a two-way radio of sorts, a gadget he accidentally came up with while tinkering just a few days ago, with this contraption using the unique magical signatures of two people. Just two people. Because it was a two-way radio. Of course, it was technically a bit unnecessary, like Kepler's costume change, when you really think about things. Iván and Kepler had another means of communication, one that didn't require extra accessories.

That said, was communicating really the most important thing that needed to happen at the moment? The heiress, Lady Aida Hilton, was getting choked on the cold marble floor of her own room, her uncle, the Lord Byron, having mounted her, pinning her on that floor with both of his hands forcing the life out of his own niece through a rage-fueled attempt to crush her throat. Given any other day, any other people, mostly 18+ people with too much time on their hands and not enough things to do, the sight would have probably elicited some sort of moss-covered reaction. Iván and Kepler weren't those kind of people. They were aces hiding in Lady Aida's sleeves.

Not waiting for Kepler's reaction to his dumb idea to talk to her using their two-way radios, Iván finally dashed towards the Lord Byron, grabbing him by his surprisingly toned arms in an attempt to get him off of the heiress. Unfortunately, Iván's efforts were in vain, especially since he himself needed to work out. As it stood, the usually masked illusionist was stronger as a mage than a physical fighter, with the only reason he was able to use a hammer effectively in battle the fact that he traps people in illusions or distracts them with his formidable summons to buy him the necessary time to smash their faces in. Maybe that was what he should've done in the first place. Too late for that now.

"Kepler, do something! Anything!" Iván yelled at the top of his lungs, concern fueled by the fact that the Lady Aida was looking more purple than normal, slowly turning into the perfect shade of his own god.

Let him do it, you fool! Do not interfere! Offer her to me so I can enlighten her like I enlightened you!"

"Not tonight. I need her alive. We need her alive. Sadly."

Iván continued to struggle against the Lord Byron, his instincts failing him. He was already caught in the moment, in the panicked reaction of getting the older man off of his own flesh and blood as soon as he could, even if that meant it wasn't the most ideal plan at the moment. Chances are, if they failed, if they didn't get him off of her in time, if Kepler couldn't save the day, this woman was going to die, they were going to fail her, they were going to fail themselves. Iván gritted his teeth, realizing that if Lady Aida died, he was going to trap the old man in a nightmare for years if not forever. Death would be too good of an escape for him.

 

"..."

As Ivan decided to work on the team's manzai improv by playing the straight-man, Kepler quickly countered by stealing the role. Rolling her eyes, Kepler motioned with the side of her head to the current crime in progress.

"Hi~! I'm not really sure if I understand your question mister, but I'm just an ordinary maid waiting for her partner so we can stop an assassination."

Giving Ivan an incredulous look, Kepler leveled her weapon at the assailant currently assaulting one Lady Aida Hilton. To the young woman's credit, she was putting up a good fight even though she was wrestling well above her weight class. There was, however, one problem...

...I don't have a shot...

It was an extremely Hollywood situation. As Aida kicked, squirmed, and pried for her life----Kepler quickly realized that she couldn't fire her arcane stun beam without risking hitting her. A normal situation might have called for taking the non-lethal risk anyway, but in this case, there was still the political necessity of the young lady, in a matter of speaking, 'ascending the throne'. Lady Aida wouldn't be able to do that if she was out of commission. And, if the whole thing were put off, it would apparently show a weakness for not being able to manage her station----Kepler thought that part was incredibly stupid, but it was very clearly part of the mission parameters, their briefing had stressed that the ceremony had to go off without a hitch.

This is why I hate field operationnnnssssss------!

Whining to herself in the back of her mind, Kepler prepared to enter the melee before Ivan at last acted. In a flash, Lady Aida was now safe. Confirming with a glance that she was still breathing, Kepler quickly realized that she now risked shooting Ivan and being left to face the creepy handsy crab-wrestler alone instead.

"----What do you mean do something?! This is exactly the same situation as before!!!!"

Biting her lip, Kepler leveled the Moonraker and closing one eye in a grimace----placed her finger on the trigger----and prepared to fire.

 

With Iván proving to be too much of a nuisance, Lord Byron had no other option but to let Lady Aida go. Momentarily, at least. Just so he could get rid of the pest that was bugging him. It was a terrible move, however, because despite all the chaos around him, them, Iván wasn't the only pest that he had to deal with. There was also the matter of the maid who had some sort of ranged weapon.

Iván saw his life flashed before his very eyes as @Kepler fired her weapon at them, and from where he stood, with eyes closed. Granted she only closed one eye, probably for accuracy-related purposes, Iván was not well-versed with such weapons, he was pretty much quite unsure of who she was targeting. It was as if both men got their cues, each jumping to either side, Iván to his right and Lord Byron to his left, in order to avoid the possibly murderous projectile. Kepler's pew pew pew hit something else, an empty suit of armor on the opposite side of the room.

The usually masked illusionist, no longer masked for this mission, felt his heart race, having been seconds from another death. Of course, death wasn't something he feared. He had died so many times now, he was getting used to it. His body, however, seemed smarter than his brain. Or at least less repressed with its instincts. Death wasn't anything anyone, afraid or not, would just welcome willy-nilly. Either you think about it for days, weeks, months, or you find yourself caught surprised by it. Sometimes, you just don't feel anything, though that pretty much requires a lot of mental torture, mental exhaustion, to fully come to pass.

While Iván was content in trying his best to recompose himself, catch his breath, his back on the ground, half-sitting on the floor, half-leaning against the wall behind him, Lord Byron finally understood the gravity of his situation. He was outnumbered, three-to-one. Perhaps at first, he had thought nothing of the man in the suit and the annoying maid, considering them mere witnesses to a powerful man's ascension to the throne he alone deserved. After getting his head blown off, however, he immediately realized that it was time to cut his losses and leave the premises.

"Don't let him get away!" Iván instinctively yelled, pointing at Lord Byron who was quick to get back up to his feet and run towards the door where Iván had come from, the door closest to the murderous uncle, the door on the opposite side of the room where Iván sat.

It would've been too late for him to move, with his heart still racing, pounding, his Zalrisis threatening his own sake, his job, his mission, but he didn't consider the same for Kepler. In his head, Kepler would be much faster, being younger and perhaps leaner, in going after Lord Byron. Perhaps she just needed to fire her weapon at him again. Maybe she'd simply just leap at him, using her full body weight to take him down, impeding his attempt at an escape. He didn't consider something else, something much worse.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" With the fury of a woman scorned, by life and by her own blood, Lady Aida Hilton, came up from out of nowhere and used all that pent-up aggression to stop her would-have-been murderer. With a sword. Swiftly cutting off her own uncle's head clean off his shoulders, sending it flying towards Iván who, after a split-second of silence, screamed and instinctively threw the head at Kepler. "SEE YOU IN HELL UNCLE!!!"

"What the hell?! Where did you even get a sword?!" Iván immediately got back to his feet, sticking with the walls, jumping far away from the headless corpse that had began to douse the expensive carpet with a familiar red liquid. He made sure none of it would reach his feet. He wasn't opposed to such a thing but it was all too sudden and he was caught unprepared. All he wanted was for someone to grab the dude, not turn him into a Sleepy Hollow legend.

 

Rocking her shoulder back, the man's head flew right on by as Kepler moved between 'Adrenaline Aida' and Ivan 'Mr. Bean' Carl. Lady Aida was in her sights. As the woman heavily breathed, Kepler held her position as she took momentary glances at the woman's now considerably dead uncle. What Kepler was looking for----to her vague exasperation----was any signs of the uncle's continued movement. Yes, this was a setting where the dead could get back up again.

----But seriously.... why a necromancer?

The latter half of her thought leaked out under her breath as Kepler waited for Lady Aida to regain hers and lower the sword. Seeing the young woman of 18 cast aside the pitch-black blade with a clang, Kepler lowered her weapon.

"Soooooo~ Situation resolved...?"

Kepler sighed. Her harsh tone of sarcasm may have been in bad taste, but honestly, the situation was just so incredulous...

Over her shoulder, Kepler gave Ivan a grimace as she quickly mouthed the words...

[We've been used?]

Approaching the part of the Uncle which would probably now be known as 'the body', Kepler donned some gloves and cautiously checked his pulse---

---Sure enough, he's dead. Well of course he is...

And cuffing the man to ensure that he stayed dead, Kepler began rifling through his pockets. Laying anything of note upon the table in Aida's bedroom, Kepler then moved to her bed comforter... and yanked it off the bed.

She then ventured into the hall and used the comforter to retrieve the head like one would a watermelon in a handkerchief, wiping any obvious blood in the hall as she did so. Finishing, Kepler re-entered the room and shut the door behind her.

Kepler was coldly, almost mechanically, calm as she did all this. There was a time when Kepler had wanted to be a doctor----and being squeamish would get in the way of that. That didn't mean Kepler had to like the gore however...

Taking a deep breath, Kepler also rolled the heavy body from the floor to the comforter, speaking in a low voice as she did so.

"----Well, since the suspect is dead and obviously won't be talking... Maybe we should start by questioning the victim, what do you think Senpai?"

Kepler looked up at Lady Aida.

"What is this all about? -----This may be your turf but I think it'd be good to remember that we're the professionals here, yes? ---If we're kept in the dark, we can't do our jobs. Case in points: your bruised neck, and at the moment, my partner and I having zero leads."

I know she was attacked and nearly lost the her life here, but even so... I can't help but feel like she purposefully left herself wide open. Was she using herself as bait----?

Kepler's eyes moved to where the young lady had cast her sword aside. There was nothing there but another puddle of blood. Kepler frowned.

"Well that's a pretty neat trick, wanna start with that? Where exactly does one learn to make swords out of their own blood? I'd love to check it out~ I mean~ Necromancy is apparently just all the rage these days~~ everyone's doing it~"

 

ALLEGIANCE

Hidden: theme

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Iván simply stared at @Kepler. That was actually pretty funny, that quip. Inopportune in terms of moments but funny nonetheless. If he hadn't just witnessed someone's head get cut off right in front of him from out of nowhere, not to mention that said head flying towards his face, then maybe he'd had enough energy to laugh. But he couldn't. He wouldn't. He was still quite confused as to what was happening, how it happened, and why weren't they informed.

When Iván agreed to accept this mission, he was told that it would be a simple security mission: rich kid finally reaches the age where she can fully control her assets, him and one of Witch Ops' newer members plays the part of her efficient bodyguards, they see her safe through the night, they get paid, and they go home. No one told him that rich kid had a sword. And could wield it with enough proficiency to cleanly cut a man's head off. Babysitting was bad enough, but babysitting while wearing a blindfold? Someone's not getting their dessert curry this week.

Slowly, carefully, he regained his composure, fixing his tie and his suit, thankful his shoes didn't get doused in blood. Surprisingly. Meanwhile, Kepler was being Kepler. She took care of the body with a strange precision, Iván wondered if she had already been in this situation before. Was hiding bodies her special skill that got her into Witch Ops? Maybe he should've read her file more thoroughly.

Maybe she should've read his file more thoroughly, too. None of what she did was necessary. Iván could've just summoned one of his familiars to gobble up that body. He almost vomited when that idea crossed his mind. Thankfully, he was able to catch it, forcing it back down his throat. Not that it was actual vomit. It was more like pretend vomit, just the feeling, never the real thing.

Lady Aida Hilton didn't look impressed by him. She raised an eyebrow in his direction as she used the corpse's own suit to wipe off the blood from her sword. When their eyes met, she simply smirked at Iván. Iván in turn immediately stood his ground, pretending he was okay with everything. He was not, but he needed to. The man could be professional. He's getting paid to be one, anyway.

"Watson's right," Iván narrowed his eyes towards Lady Aida, stealing glimpses of the sword to prepare himself should she strike him next. Based on what just happened, everything he knew about their ward went out the window. She wasn't as innocent and meek as he had read, as she had presented herself. She was most definitely hiding something. "You said you needed two people to watch your back. This didn't look like you needed anyone. Just a sword. From out of nowhere. Clean slice, beheading an uncle."

Lady Aida sized both Iván and Kepler up, as if she was gauging their strengths, their weaknesses, as if she was thinking of taking them both on her own. Of course, that would've been quite troublesome. Even if she was that good with that sword, Iván and Kepler had the advantage of numbers and range. Pew. Pew. Pew.

"Hardly," the young woman sighed, expressing her dismay. "When I went to that witch, asking for help, I assumed she was going to give me more qualified guardians."

"Because of your name?" Iván scoffed.

"Because of my uncle. He's pompous, egotistical, maniacal, but he's also quite traditional. If he had succeeded, if I had died at his hands, he would've carried on the family legacy, started up one of those rebellions old people who can't stomach a new generation surviving them love to start, except...the Hilton family legacy involves dark things, things I would prefer to discontinue, purge from our good name," the sadness in the woman's voice came unexpectedly, rising from the ashes of her pride and ego. Like most children, she believed herself to be better than those before her. She was, after all, still alive, having survived them. But also like most children, she knew she now had the responsibility of making sure her family's name survived, and like most children, she wanted to do it her own way.

Iván let out a loud yawn, interrupting her train of thought along with Kepler's. He seemed a little too disinterested in what the heiress had spoken about. Perhaps it was because of the decapitated head almost headbutting him.

"You're safe. Your uncle's dead. The night's almost over. Our job here is done," Iván turned to Kepler as that last statement crawled out of his mouth, seemingly to address her more than Lady Aida.

"Wait," Lady Aida softly hinted at Iván to change his mind, to continue their conversation, to stay with her, eyeing him, and when she could, Kepler. "I think I can use you two for another job."

But Iván had already turned his back towards the heiress, making his way towards the door, out of there, maybe to grab a plate or two from the buffet, "No, thanks. I've got a curry house to keep afloat."

"My uncle's part of something bigger, something dark and horrible, something that's strangling the nearby town," Lady Aida continued, ignoring him. This time, she turned to Kepler, hoping to entice her in his place. "You're heroes, aren't you? You can be handsomely paid heroes."

 

Oh, are we playing bad cop, cold cop~?

"Uhmmmm, no offense ma'm, but has that line ever worked on any hero you've ever read about....?"

"..."

"..."

The young lady of the manor sighed. Placing a hand to her forehead she continued to plead her case.

"Look. I'm really not a bad person..."

"----And when has that line there ever really cleared things up?"

"..."

"..."

"I feel as though we've gotten off on the wrong foot here."

"Oh~? Have we now~? Don't mind me~ Please continue~ I can still think of at least three more cliches~"

Lady Aida sighed once more. Kepler was really giving her a hard time. However, at last, Kepler saw a crack in Lady Hilton's facade. There was just the smallest of hints of her desperation as she said:

"...Will you please at least hear me out....?"

Ok. Now she sounds sincere~!

Even so, Kepler said nothing as she continued to clean up the scene.

"Please..."

Was Kepler really about to make a girl two years her senior cry?

"I know I can be a little rough around the edges... I... I have to be or...."

"----Senpai~ you didn't really exit the scene did you~? I'd maybe think you were just a bit of scumbag if you did, you know~? But that's not true, right~? You're coolly standing out there in the hall, right~? I think Lady Aida understands that we, as her bodyguards, have her best interests in mind now~"

Kepler shrugged at Lady Aida in good humor.

"I can't make any promises that this is inside of our jurisdiction, but at the very least, we can offer you a free consolation, okay~? ----There is of course the caveat that you be completely honest though~"

Dabbing her eyes, Lady Aida nodded. Kepler really had put her through the wringer, but even so, Lady Aida seemed relieved to know that she wouldn't have to scheme or play coy around the two. She could finally let her hair down, so to speak. Which, speaking of...

"Oh~ Right~! We still need to get you dressed, don't we~? No peeking, okay Senpai~? I'll have you know that my beams seem to have taken to calling you their target for some reason~ just warning ya, okay~?"

As the two moved behind a fancy partition, Kepler helped Aida change dresses so she could make her debut on schedule. As Kepler did so, Lady Aida briefed the two buddy cops on their next potential assignment with full disclosure....



Would they accept? Just how much did the two really need MP? Which advanced skill should Kepler get, Plutopia wondered...

 

Iván sighed. There was only one known threat to Lady Aida’s life and he was already taken care of. Sure, some other noble buttface might still be around, craving to end the Hilton heiress before she could fully take control of her holdings, but the night was almost over and the gig only specified this party. For all intents and purposes, it was done. Why would they stay longer? Why would they accept another job from this weird and creepy rich kid? Why would he be interested in peeking at someone’s naked body? He studied anatomy in the real world. He knew what things looked like.

“You’re thinking of taking her job offer, Kep?” Iván turned to his partner, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. They had to go back and report to the Grand Witch, their battalion commander. This was just a favor from her to an old family friend or something. This wasn’t really that big of a Witch Ops deal.

“H-hey!” Lady Aida, half-undressed, tried to regain what remained of her dignity by using her bare arms to cover what she could. That was, despite the fact that Iván paid her no attention, essentially blurring her very existence from his line of sight. “N-no peeking!”

“Not interested,” he deadpanned, turning around again. The illusionist simply wanted to look his partner in the eye, to make sure she was using her head in making this decision. One of the tenets of Witch Ops was to look out for the little guy, to keep the weak, the meek, safe. Lady Aida wasn’t a little guy. Nor did she fit the description of the weak, the meek. She seemed pretty safe, though, now that her uncle was dead. “If you can convince my little friend over there, though, that might change. Otherwise, I’m going to the buffet, spend the rest of my night there. One dead body’s enough for me tonight.”

It should’ve been my kill, darn it. Now what do I sacrifice to the purple god?