Wolokai142

July 14th, 2022 3:40:54 P.M. 46 Days, 8 Hours, 19 minutes, 6 seconds remaining. "You remind me of me...a long time ago." "A long time ago, I looked at a woman in a mirror. She too would stare with a look of apprehension, unsure if she could trust the creature that stood there before her, wearing her face and skin. I looked into those silver eyes and wondered...'is there anything left of you in there?' I could not answer, for I did not know. For over a decade, I was forced to serve monsters who tore and scooped out my innards, and made me into one of them. Reborn in their image, I was the tool to which they used to unhinge and destabilize their enemies. I was the blade that cut the heart out of those who would stand before them. The one who they sent to flick the first domino. I was very good at what I did, half because of the training, the drugs, and the mind-tearing pain they pumped and pumped into my body and my soul. The other half...? Well, I enjoyed it. Killing, sabotage, infiltration...the rush, the power it can give. It's intoxicating, the entirety of it. It's why they select who they select, why they think that bloodlines account for a little more 'stability' in their agents then random people though they do dabble in both. They forced my mother to conceive and have me and my sister, and who would have of thought...we were the perfect candidates. Like my mother, I had a natural affinity for death and subterfuge. I had drive, focus, and above all...rage. I was monumentally angry all the time, living and breathing on a hair trigger. It was all momentum too, scary amounts. Once I got going, I couldn't stop, couldn't think until I erased everything I looked upon, until I was the only breathing creature in a couple mile radius of wherever The Blessings sent me to fight. And when the dust settled? When everyone was dead? Most of the time when I was disobedient, when the MKU2 started to wear off or I was showing signs of resistance to the cognitive reprogramming they'd send Enforcers to collect me. Other times, it was one of my sister-agents. They did this to...weed out the weak, to promote a line of succession where only the strongest would survive. As much as I was terrified of them, I always prayed to whatever God would listen to a heathen's words that I would see bull masks appearing over the horizon, and not foxes. Those days, when they sent The Enforcers last, they straight-jacketed me and took me home...and piled the pieces of whatever was left of my sister-agent from the pavement, and whatever of her brain they could salvage from within the blood-filled bucket that became her mask into baggies, and brought her home too. I want to say that after the Vice City incident, after they murdered my Caroline and I dropped a 40-story building on top of their heads that things were gonna get better, that I had escaped and I was free at last. I was so engrossed in being out from under the pressing thumb of The Blessings and the feelings that it gave me, that I totally forgot how to be realistic. It only got worse. The thing about MKU2 is that, if it's not applied or regulated at specific times...you start to 'wake up'. The idea of being a Blessing Agent is that you are declared inhuman. You're just a robot programmed with instructions. There is no room for empathy, humanity, or mercy. MKU2 ensures that whoever you were, whatever lies in your soul and what defines you, is crushed and killed. The greater danger is when they apply it over a long period of time. Eventually you don't get to come back, you stay lost. A soulless, walking automaton. That's what annoyed them the most about me too. I was very good at resisting. More and more they tried to adjust the dosage, run more tests, deploy Enforcers behind me ready to intercept on mission completion, just to stop me from running away and killing their staff. It got so bad to the point where I was hunting my sister-agents from within the hive itself, breaking into their cages and choking them to death in the night. Every light that I watched go out in them, satisfied the both of us. Red got her death. Rhea got to set another poor soul free. It was starting to get 'mutual', and that's when the real red flags started going up. That's when the suicide runs started. When those failed, they killed Caroline and, well... ...sometime after that, I became San Andreas's problem. The pain didn't get any softer with time, neither did the anger. I was suffering from a multitude of problems, compounding and building off one another. Trauma, PTSD, anxiety, withdrawal from MKU2, anger...it was enough to shatter most. I had drive though, a reason, a rock...a purpose to stay holding on no matter the cost. Her. The other one. The original who they wanted. She's here, amongst the populace. Nobody knows who she is...and it is going to stay that way. It was her that I thought about while standing on that beach, a thought that went wayward whilst looking at you...a woman who reminded me of me. I was like you once, clinging to my paranoia and blind to the truth. The lengths you went to to ensure your own safety. Did you notice I didn't even flinch, barely even acknowledged the gun you drew on me? It's why I came unarmed. You needed to trust me, and I needed to teach you. You explained to me of course why you faked me out the first time. Had to be sure, of course. Who wouldn't be concerned? A strange woman in a fox mask asking for enough military grade C4 to level a small town? Sure I had my reputation but...you were too 'young' to really grasp the weight of it. That's not your fault, and I wouldn't even see that in a demeaning way. You've got a lot of room to grow. A lot to learn. That's why you remind me of me. Like me, you're standing at the precipice of a moment that's going to change your life forever. You're going to look back at this very moment, and you will be watching as the things you done have a lasting impact not just on you...but everyone and everything. Because of what you've just done, giving these materials to me, you've set in motion a chain-reaction of events that are going to follow you the rest of your life. You're going to tell yourself "This...I did this, this was because of me." And you would be right. The difference though, is that I'm going to be here to support you when that happens. The weight that's going to fall on you is going to be heavy, and it is going to hurt. It has to be done though. San Andreas cannot survive a Blessing invasion. I would know, I helped in the Invasion of Vice City. I know the timetable and I know how this is going to end. All other options have been exhausted...and now, you're standing here with me on the sand. You know in your heart what's coming, or an idea of it. Maybe you think you're prepared for it...maybe you think 'Ah, I'll be fine...it's just some bombs'. Oh...you poor thing. You, like your peers, like your government...need to learn the hard way. There's nothing wrong with that, sometimes it takes the hard way to really learn a lesson. It's only natural. When it does though...try not to beat yourself up about it too much, ok? I'll be there...maybe not right away, but eventually after the weight of what you've done has a chance to marinate in your heart and your soul. That's why I chose you. I chose you for a 'very' specific reason. You have all the capabilities that we're going to need to rebuild, once we tear it all down to its foundations. That's the way we beat them. We use their own methodology against them. You're going to help us force Los Santos to completely tear its own structure of complacent nature down to its foundation...and then we're going to rebuild it. When we're done, The Blessings will have no choice but to turn and run. I must admit though...there are a few things that I know will be challenging when it comes to passing on to you what you'll need to survive in the aftermath...but I have confidence that you'll make it through. You're going to need to, when this fails. Sleep soundly tonight, Lola DeValera. There aren't many nights left where you can have that luxury. We'll be in touch." Above: Lola Meets Red Below: The Schematics

May 25th, 2022 8:21:37 P.M. 96 Days, 3 Hours, 38 minutes, 23 seconds remaining. Cobalt stood in front of the corkboard, staring intently at the swath of information that Red had put together over the past year. He was actually pretty impressed with how far she had actually come, the cliché' red yarn tied between various pushpins, pictures and polaroid's of people and places tacked up in a chaotic array, with violent scrawl across several sheets and blank pieces of paper that screamed "AGENT!?" or "INVASION POINT?" but with open ended questions numbering to a headache inducing amount. From what he could discern of the mess she had made out of the wall of her living room, she was close to figuring out the full extent of The Blessings' battle plans...but had absolutely nothing concrete to prove it. He understood. Better than most really. His own board, which consisted of an imported desk from the local furniture shop, was strewn about mostly with GPS coordinates, laptops, and other such little knick-knacks that included circle-pointed maps and small newspaper clippings of police chases and their end results. Pinpointing the Blessing Hive, that was his task. It was the reason Red brought him from Japan to Los Santos. It was a simple one on paper, a straight forward task: "Find the Hive, return to your life." Granted, at the initial transaction she didn't have anything worth convincing him to return to the states. Leave a life solitude and safety, far beyond the reaches of The Blessings, to get back into the major storm of death that swirled about their entire organization just to spare some city he had no basis or reason to care about...because she asked him to? She was out of her mind. Completely out of the question for the most basic and obvious of reasons, Cobalt turned her down on the spot as any sensible human being would. That is, until she name dropped 'Lavender'. The urge to kill her then and there was multiplied by a thousand, and in that moment that stupid fucking fox would've had her neck snapped before she could draw another breath for even daring to bring Lavender into this...but he knew Agents, especially the danger that Ex-Agents posed. All that death and violence and ingenuity that The Blessings pumped into the synapsis of their brains, erasing all traces of life and hard-coding monumental violence in its place...and then having it pop off the leash and escape. It was dangerous, having a 'loose-cannon' like that running about. Not for the sake of the people that were in extreme danger of said Ex-Agents if they ever crossed paths, but at the risk of exposure they could bring to the organization they had escaped from. It was why the 'loose-end' policy existed in the first place. Send the Agents on deadlier and deadlier missions, until eventually they were slotted for the suicide run. Something way out of their league that even by statistics, logistics, and general reasoning that no Agent could be capable of surviving. The Agent didn't much care either...how could they? They were programmed to obey, to execute the directive, and to return back. Those that didn't had the Enforcers deployed to retrieve, or kill them. It was that fact alone that frustrated Cobalt to his core. The fact that Agent R-2 survived the suicide run and returned to Vice City should've been a warning sign enough to deploy additional Enforcers, or even the Legionäre at the very least. It was that completely overlooked oversight that caused the Vice City incident in the first place, where the tower fell and Agent C-1, the revered Caroline Verona had lost her life because of Red, and the Matriarch's complete disregard for protocol. The more and more he pondered it over the years though...he was starting to doubt more and more that maybe Red surviving what transpired in Miami wasn't a coincidence...but it was a stretch nonetheless. Because of it though...it was why he was standing here today. Why, even though he wasn't sure exactly how (nor was he very much surprised), Red somehow knew about Lavender and the lengths that Cobalt had gone to for her safety. He knew that Red was resourceful...but he vastly underestimated just how far she was willing to go to fight The Blessings, and it was a mistake he'd never make again. Just like the Matriarch in Vice City...all it took was one mistake. So search he would. He'd look for the Blessing Hive, he'd find it, tell Red where to go, and he'd return to Japan to move Lavender somewhere else. Red would die horrifically at the hands of The Blessings he'd hope, and all that would remain would be to track down any loose ends that may be able to divulge Lavender's location at any point. That was the only reason he agreed to return to the states. Killing Red outright in Japan would've enacted several contingencies he knew she'd have in place. If he didn't agree to go back, Lavender was gonna die and he knew it. On the same token, Cobalt was at risk of being re-exposed to The Blessings, which would put him AND Lavender in the crosshairs. The only guarantee he had that such a thing wasn't going to happen was to go along with Red...the lesser chance at Lavender being discovered. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't. His train of thought was broken slightly, the sound of a door crashing open making him turn wildly on his heels, stance low and hands out at the ready to engage at the slightest provocation. Though when he saw who it was that ascended the stairs, his guard didn't drop anyway. There was really no telling just where in that fucked-up little psyche of hers, if Red was never 'not' on the verge of a total psychotic break. He had heard cases of Agents going years without so much of a hiccup in their programming, only to snap and go on a absolute blood bender because someone sneezed or said something a little off that didn't click quite right with the auditory senses of said Agents. When it came to his Enforcer training...you could never leave it to chance. Always be ready to kill them. Always. Red stormed into the room, picking up one of her kitchen table chairs and hurling it across the open air. It sailed over the couch and crashed with a violent explosion of wood against the far wall, landing in a heap of splinters on the floor. Cobalt watched the exchange wordlessly, looking between the chair and the now-pacing Red, her fists clenched and her face redder than her namesake. She had her head in one hand, the other on her hip, sputtering and grumbling harshly and rapidly with hissing words and absolute rage roaring like wild-fire in those silver irises. He watched her storm up to the kitchen counter, pick up her phone, look at it for a split second without so much as powering on the screen before putting it back down again. Four times she did this, before Cobalt finally straightened his posture slightly and cleared his throat. "Let me guess..." He said, the black, abyssal depths of his bull mask staring at her angry form "They didn't believe you...?" Red had gone to petition some help from the Government, to the desk of Lewis Langely himself. She had hoped that even though her efforts with this 'supply drop' she had used these Shenzen Dragons for fell through with the LSPD, that maybe she could get some traction with it to the Government. Maybe her reputation would get enough to get her an inquiry at least, to at least get a general overlook of the potential threat in their midst. Pending that, all it'd take was for a few things to catch the shimmer of the GOV's spotlight and Red could greenlight a myriad of crumb trails that'd keep Langely's attention long enough for her to convince him to expose The Blessing Threat to the public, and dissuade the Invasion right in its tracks. That was the overall goal after all, to expose the coming storm. If they could, The Blessings would hopefully pull off the notion of Invasion, as their main path of quiet infiltration would be all but ruined. A stretch, to be sure, but a possible one if the Government would get on board. Judging by Red's entrance however...that did not happen. "Psychopaths, all of them," Red growled in heated frustration, the irony of such a statement not lost on Cobalt though he chose not to press that button "How, how can a Government, be so fucking negligent, so complacent?!" Cobalt shrugged slightly, looking back towards Red's board before muttering "You know how." Red shook her head, looking up towards him and throwing her hands out in an angry flail as she motioned between him and the board and hollering "It's not like that Cobalt! This isn't some satanic cult or aliens or some other national geographic level shit, this is something that you and I have ACTUALLY gone through once before! We know it's coming, we know the signs, but the fucking Government-" "The Government will do nothing," Cobalt interjected "Because the Government has not experienced this before. They cannot see what isn't displayed clearly in front of their very eyes, regardless of whatever it is you tell them. They simply cannot comprehend such dangers." He walked towards her board, motioning a hand to it "You know as well as I do, that when it comes to positions of power and the people behind them, a concept such as The Blessings might as well be talking about aliens. Did you really think that if you sat down and talked it out with them, how it was going to sound...?" "Of course I did!" Red snapped, plunking herself down on her couch and burying her hands in her hair for a moment, tugging at the roots in frustration "MK Ultra, CIA-based Cold War nationalists, I know how it fucking sounds." She looked up, shaking her head "But I'm not talking about a war from the stars, I'm talking about a war amongst us. As living proof we know what the fuck we're talking about, we know what's at stake, and the severity of such should be enough to at least warrant some basic investigation or...or som-" "Or nothing," Cobalt said, walking over to sit on the coffee table in front of Red, the same one that her and the Colonel played a forced game of chess on in August of last year. He placed his hands on his knees, shaking his head "Rhea...we've done this dance before. You know it, I know it...this is how The Blessings are advancing. You told me that The Colonel warned you about this...and you've known The Blessings to never overplay their hand, or to ever play anything without a specific reason. The only reason they told you is because they knew your Government would deny any acknowledgement of their existence. The Blessings 'cannot' exist to Lewis, because acknowledging a problem means he has to deal with it, and don't you think he'd rather not deal with a national terrorist threat based upon the ravings of a madwoman with an exceedingly violent record behind her?" Red kept staring at the ground, peeking between her fingers and not answering him which prompted Cobalt to sigh and continue. "You're trying to convince people of the concept of forces beyond their control or understanding. Human beings were not designed to do so, because we as a species have to control everything we encounter. We can't contend with the idea that there are things outside of our control, and we become violent when we encounter those things because if it's not with us, it's against us." At this, Red looked up, a grimace tight on her face as she breathed "Then what do you call 'One Nation, Under God'?" Cobalt shrugged slightly, leaning forward after a long moment once he collected his thoughts and spoke. "I call it the few amongst our dipshit species who still cling to an idea of faith and acceptance. The ones who can take a concept and choose whether to accept it, or do something about it. That's the only reason I can think of to why the Shenzen Dragons even bothered to help you, because while they didn't understand or could comprehend a thing such as The Blessings...they knew -you-. You had ties with several of their people, people who had faith in you. That faith brought power to your words, just like people who bring such feelings of faith to God's words empower His messages." "But," Red breathed, shaking her head "The Blessings aren't God...they're just monsters in masks with a stupid fucking agenda." Cobalt shrugged again with a grunt "No...but to some of the faithless, the concept is the same. Some people -need- proof, need to control everything within the scope of their view. It's why your state will always be a Police State at its very core. Sometimes even clear proof won't be enough either. I bet that even if you brought Langely a complete folder of evidence to his desk, he'd still dismiss it. It's the only road people like him will ever kn-" Red let Cobalt go on, though she wasn't really listening anymore. Beyond this, what options did she have? More fake drops, more fake clues? The Government and the LSPD were digging their heels in heavier and heavier with each attempt she made. They were writing her off as 'crazy' and her warnings translated as ravings. She'd have better luck sitting on a cardboard box with a megaphone shouting to people in Legion Square that the end times were coming. But, that was the city for you...always reacting, never going out of their way to prevent such disasters from- Her eyes widened suddenly. She stood up suddenly, much to Cobalt's alarm, making him lean back suddenly as she hurried towards her phone, grasping it up in her hand and dialing a number quickly. Cobalt was up and after her, tilting his masked head as he asked "What is it?" To this, Red put a finger to her lips to hush him for a moment before the line clicked over. "George?" Red asked into the phone. There was a pause and a nod, Red launching off into a small barrage of questions and hurried conversation. To what she was discussing with the person on the phone...Cobalt could only raise an eyebrow. It was a concept that he had known...but was unsure of its practice or application. It was a play he had only seen pulled off once...by a very old agent. For it to be Red to discover and ponder such a concept herself now...the irony of this wasn't lost on Cobalt either. She hurried past him, his turning to watch her as she approached her board and uncapped a marker, quickly scribbling a name onto a sheet of paper. He squinted, tilting his head. He didn't recognize the name in particular, but he knew of the organization to which said individual belonged to. To deal with people like this, and the nature of what she was probably asking this 'George' through the phone, well...this was nothing short of complete desperation now, the full extent of Red's power and what she was willing to do to stop The Blessings really starting to rear its ugly head. He couldn't help but be curious though, the humorous thought of watching this play out to its very end even for the sake of shits and giggles an ever present ping in the back of his skull. He knew what was coming, or at least an idea of it. It was the one fallback Agents always resorted to when all other options ran out. When the greatest fires were blazing around them, burning everything they knew to ash, only one thing ever seemed to work for them: Starting a bigger fire right next to it. Red hurried away, wordlessly grabbing her keys after a quick 'thanks' through the phone, and leaving without another word. He didn't bother asking her where she was going, didn't really need to. It was going to go off the rails now, and it was going to start with the name Red wrote on the board, scribbled in manic rapidness and circled half a million times:

February 26th, 2022 9:53:55 P.M. 179 Days, 2 Hours, 6 minutes, 5 seconds remaining. M i r r o r - P a r k She walked quietly. Carefully. Slowly. Unnoticed, even with her iconic visage pressed over her head and face. Her smiling fox weaved carefully through the crowd partying it out on the streets of Mirror Park, in the suburbs located on the western side. It was odd, and a bit sad to think about...the fact that just a year ago she would've been greeted and waved over by friends, family, and loved ones in blue and black-checkered grey. She had a deep scar and a tattoo from both families, cementing her status and her place amongst them from now until she drew her final breath...but such families were gone now. Broken apart, brothers and sisters fading into obscurity, retiring, or hitching a plane to the next hellhole they could try in vain to control. With such departures, and with the slow, ever sinking knife of time pressing ever-so gradually into her heart, she too started to fade from the forefront of the society she once knew. Those left who knew her? DOC Guards, cops, maybe a Government official or two. Most only knew 'of' her, her legacy...a psychotic killer with an attitude problem and an unsettling proficiency at breaking into and out of places, like maximum security. "Furry. Foxxy. MSI-#002. Red. Miss Moraine," all titles and names she had been addressed by from her once-hated enemies on the other side of the law. No longer were the beloved friends she had in the criminal underworld around to keep her company. All she had now was the Law, watching her from afar, beholding the sad, declining state of an old retired gangbanger struggle against the ever growing concept of being irrelevant and pointless now that she had no crew to run with. What's worse, is that a lot of them treated her with respect. Not respect in the way that she 'deserved' it, but half out of courtesy for their protocols, and the other half as a respected enemy. In her time, she had not been an impossible foe to contend with, but a formidable one, one who had earned enough of a reputation and case file to put her on some very angry shit lists under some detectives' gazes. But now that she had hung up her AK, and chose a more 'peaceful', 'finding-yourself' path in life...they started to regard her more openly. Ironic, to say the least. It was as if they just...forgotten, what she had done to them all. All the death, all the murder, the chaos, the rage. She buried a considerable amount of law enforcement and...they gave her comforting smiles, kind words and gestures. They treated her like she was sick. Granted, she 'was', technically speaking, not so much actively but living with the scars of immense, unseeable trauma garroted into her brain...it earned her some modicum of sympathy amongst the lawful side of the razor wire. Whether or not that was a good thing...the jury was still out on that one. Or maybe she was just overthinking it, and that they were more grateful that they didn't have to spend the irritating amount of resources required to put an end to her bullshit so they could focus on more modern problems, like these morons. Red took a sideways look with a turn of her head towards whom she described. From what she could gather, there was a myriad of newer faces, newer colors and newer gangs having a block party in Mirror Park. She knew only a handful of them, drifters who passed from gang to gang like the sun rose and fell day to day, others more established groups and militias, trying to follow in the footsteps of The Council or to strike out on a newer, more modern takes on what it means to belong to the underworld. Dipshits. All of them, smiling and laughing and throwing caution to the wind. They didn't understand yet but they would soon enough. Perhaps to some of the more grizzled veterans sprinkled amongst these groups, they'd have an idea of combat and what it takes to survive sure...but maintaining one of these groups was vastly different to building one. Sure they'd rake in who they could, put a gun in their hands and tear up the city, blasting up each other or the cops who came after them. Unfortunately for them, a lot of the protocols and lengths of reach that LEO's had now in place were because of her and the groups that came before. Los Zetas, Triads, and others set the standard for a whole new level of pain that the Government could dish out against the underworld. These newer groups didn't understand that concept yet, having been regaled by the tales of the glory days, hundreds of people mowing each other down with 5.56 caliber automatics in a dazzling display of fireworks that sent tracers into the sky like it was the 4th of July. Moments like 'The Battle of Benny's', The Zetas-Wanted War, the war against the West Coast, just to name a few. They'd learn though...if they could hold themselves and their groups together long enough to withstand the SIB and DB branches. They didn't have many 'Jason Steels' anymore from what she noticed...but that didn't mean the danger was completely gone, but simply...'evolved'. Among them though...there was a singular group in particular she was after. Their roots from what she understood, had distant ties to the Triads, names she was familiar with and those that were somewhat familiar with her. She hoped that she could use those old familial ties as leverage, get some much desired help. Afterall, she had stood with the Triads on Grove Street during the West Coast occupation, hours and days spent holding the trenches against the Jamestown incursions in the dead of night, keeping herself awake on constant caffeine and adrenaline from jumping at shadows that moved in and out of her eyesight in the dark alleys that branched out before her in the dimly lit neighborhoods she fought tooth and nail for. Coupled with a few other mentionable moments and favors she had earned...she hoped she could at least get a stronger consideration than what she got from The Rooks concerning The Blessings. As for The Blessings...she wasn't sure exactly how she was going to proceed. Her options were limited, and very few. Obtaining actual proof of their movements was going to be extremely difficult, if not impossible to gain organically, which means she was going to have to 'procure' this evidence herself. She had an idea of how to go about it, but getting a group to actually pull off what she had in mind was gonna be a tough sell. Granted, she did have the remainder of her armory for payment, so even if the group she was after didn't particularly 'believe' her story about the incoming invasion, no one was going to say no to getting what could essentially be described as 'free' guns, traded for work and tasks rather than a monetary value. Honestly she had hoped to keep most of her armory intact for Plan 'C', but the straws she was going to be grasping at were ones she couldn't ignore and had to more or less take a chance on to grasp lest they slip away and have certain opportunistic doors shut in her face forever. With only half of her time left until the invasion, and almost no traction or progress forward to speak of...these opportunities had to be taken, there was no other choice. Plan C was what she had needed Cobalt for, one that would see them circumventing the entirety of the city if they could. It was also complete fucking suicide. An Agent would've been more-or-less semi useful for what she had in mind, two pools of general resources for one goal...but an Enforcer? That was an opportunity she couldn't ignore. An Enforcer would have a lot more of a chance to find what she needed, able to move a little more quietly without too many alarms going off. At least, that's what she was hoping for. The plan? Find The Blessings' hive. Their base of operations and staging ground, the launch point for the Invasion. Sure the sleepers and Agents amongst the populace would be the main issue they'd have to deal with should the worst happen, but everyone lays their head somewhere. Warehouses, logistical centers, stockpiles, the works. It would be a gold mine of everything the Government could use to take them down and them some. Unfortunately...they'd never find it. Exposing a hive only meant that you knew where The Blessings were operating out of...and could do almost nothing about. The agents within the Government would tip off that their hive was discovered, and in a single hour they'd dump their data caches and cut their losses, detonating the entire complex from within, incinerating everything and all evidence. This is what made it 'suicide'. If Cobalt managed to locate the hive, they'd have to assault it alone. Infiltrating was gonna be easy, but getting farther than the initial entrance was going to be impossible, and at that point...even she wouldn't have enough ammo to survive long. It was an option at best...even if she couldn't stop them, she could cripple them enough maybe, stall their invasion long enough for someone else to follow in her stead, do what she couldn't and expose The Blessings for who and what they were. Cobalt warned her however, that finding the hive before the 30th was going to be pretty difficult, if not nearly impossible. Finding their business front would be possible, like the office tower in Vice City, but the hive itself, where the Command Caste and Matriarch would be? Tough sell indeed. Still, he'd give it his best effort. Not like he had any choice in the matter anyway. Sure she put up a compelling argument...with the soft, idle threat and access to a private off-shore she had to better fortify his position in Japan, but her tracking her down...it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for her to 'accidently out him' to The Blessings if he refused to help. Damn Agents...conniving, psych-fucked little shits. She spotted them, the two she was after in the crowds. She had lifted their contacts from some trusted sources, trading a favor or two in exchange for where they'd be today. The group? 'Shenzen Dragons'. They were still more on the 'newer' side of things, but had obtained a pretty decent reputation for being reliable. Again, while she wasn't quite sure that they'd 'believe' her about The Blessings, the payment they'd get for their involvement ought to be enticing enough. "George and Jonas Xing?" She asked, approaching them from the side. They turned to look at her, confused. They weren't sure what to make of her, some random stranger in a fox mask rolling up to them and name dropping them off-rip. Curious though, they answered and confirmed their identities. She motioned towards the main street that ran down the western side of the lake. The introductions went smoothly enough, pulling off her fox mask and introducing herself. They were curious as to how she actually knew them, but Red wasn't one to dilly-dally on the deets. "Do you believe in God?" She had asked them, a really odd question to which they weren't sure how to answer at first. She expressed that the answer was important however, so they more or less went along with it. "Religious" is what they answered with, to which Red gave them the general nod. "Good," she muttered, looking back towards the party in the distance, all those clueless, complacent souls dancing about while their world was on the brink of ending. "Then maybe what I'm about to tell you won't be so hard to believe..." She laid it out then, all of it. The extent of what was going on, the nature of The Blessing Threat that was slowly building like a dark cloud over San Andreas. She told them about The Blessings, who they were, what they wanted, and what was coming in full detail. There was a mixed set of emotions among the two of them, and numerous shared looks. Was she crazy? Infiltrators? End of Los Santos? Cold War era terrorists? It was a breaking dam of information, Red knew...but there was no other way to ease into a conversation like this. They'd have to just listen, and take it or leave it as a truth or psycho ramblings beyond that. Remarkably though...she got the nod. "What do we need to do?" they asked, to which Red had to reign in the tears that were threatening to form at the bottom of her eyes, turning to cough roughly to the side to cover up her rising emotions and to get her composure. They actually...BELIEVED her. It was a moment of relief, that finally someone was actually listening, who cared about how this was going to play out in the long term instead of being stuck in the narrow-minded view of the short term. "A feint," she described "A sort of...acting job. If you agree to help here, you'll get the deets forwarded to you after we get the prep work done. It'll be a few days at best." She put a hand up as they made to ask additional questions, but she quickly interjected. "Payment will be discussed, and will be delivered in a quantity up front, but again...best not to talk more about it here. You'll be forwarded the information and coordinates of where to collect them." It was a confusing move, to be sure, the level of complication she was making it out to all be as far as handling business, but she assured them for their safety, the more convoluted she made it the better protected they'd be if shit went south and the LSPD came storming in. It was a fair point, and they all soon parted ways. Days later, George and Jonas received the coordinates of Red's drop, the information and fronted gear they were promised. Obtaining it, they found a retro-style cassette with player, clothing, bull masks, a shotgun and a myriad of handguns. The fact that Red had made good on the up front payment was good enough credibility on her end...but what she was fully aiming to accomplish through all of this was confusing to say the least. Still, as Red predicted...payment was payment was payment. There was no denying a reward for a simple job, especially when it came to hardware. With gear in tow, instructions provided, and half their payment received, all that was left to do was get Red what she needed, and off to work they went.

December 25th, 2021 6:45:35 P.M. 246 Days, 5 hours, 14 minutes, 25 seconds remaining. J a p a n The air. Cold. The wind. Icy. The spirits. Warm. The festival was in full swing. Lights and smiles and the beautiful sweet smell of hot treats still sensible over the frosty chill of the air. Where most noses would be sniffling, many were inhaling said delicious cuisine as passersby moved from stall to stall to get a taste for themselves. Sparklers, laughter, shouts of "KAMPAI!!!!" with the clinking of glasses and cans in celebration of Christmas and the coming of the new year. Yes, the warm embrace of the new year, eagerly awaited by generations young and old. What could it bring? The prospect of new adventures and another chance to make new strides, new goals, new achievements and milestones? Maybe new love, new promotions, hell maybe even a new car or a house? For many, the approaching new year meant a fresh take, a new outlook. Promises of a new start, and new beginnings. But for one....the new year meant only one thing: ...a countdown. A wild wave of raven-black hair, bouncing about upon the head of a little girl dashing down the sidewalk was seen briefly by those who walked too and fro, bundled tightly in their jackets and winter hats. Of course more noticeable was the sparkler she had in her hand, crackling with life as she squealed in delight, racing down the sidewalk to hurry back to her parents waiting just down the way. She dodged through the crowds, drawing some gasps and grumbles as her sparkler neared too close to them for comfort. She weaved left, jumped right, and dashed forward...straight into the backside of someone standing in the way. The girl gasped, falling back as her sparkler hit the floor, still crackling on the sidewalk. Looking up, her eyes locked upon silver irises flicking to look down at hers. A woman with hair the color of the moon was turning to look at her, her skin nearly the same pale color. She was bundled tight in a thick, blue overcoat with a fur collar and a hood pulled up over head and a particularly large backpack on her back. She certainly didn't look like one of the common folk, an Outlander to be sure. Maybe American, or European? Looking close, the girl could've sworn her eyes even had this sort of strange, un-earthly glow to them. The woman blinked in startled confusion for a moment, before her pained-eyes softened and a small smile stretched across her lips. She turned fully around, slowly kneeling down to which the girl took an apprehensive lean back, worried that she might be scolded for not watching where she was going. Instead, the woman gently picked up the sparkler and held it out to the side, staring at it for a moment before her eyes flicked back to the girl. Much to the little girl's surprise, the Outlander asked her gently in perfect Japanese "Are you ok? You dropped this little one." The girl stared at her, an awe-struck expression on her face. It took a moment to collect herself before she gave her a nod and gently reached out and took the sparkler from her. "Careful now," The woman continued, gently helping her to her feet "Your mama and papa will be waiting for you to come back with your awesome sparkler!" The little girl brushed herself off with a free hand, bowing deeply to the woman with a semi-red-faced apology and quickly scooted around her, taking a few chance glances back to her as she started to dash back off once again. The woman watched her go, a tiny sigh pushing through her nostrils. That little girl looked to be about the age she was when the Enforcers started to come around their home and family, accompanying the woman in the black suit. Had she of known for what and why...she would've killed them right there and then. Of course, a tiny little girl against two titanically large Enforcers was...not good odds, at least she would go down in defiance of what they were planning to do. But, all things aside, at least she could make a difference now. Red walked amongst the people, a pale ghost. Her head down and her strides casual but with a determined pace. It had taken months...but she was finally closing in on her target. Agent Cobalt, another ghost from her past, was here amongst the festival somewhere. It had taken some careful digging, coaxing, and baiting...but eventually she had gotten enough leeway to get him into the open. Now it was just a matter of time before she got the information she needed. Agents knew quite a bit about the infrastructure of The Blessings, WAY more than they were supposed to. When you give an individual the means and training to be able to get easily into and out of areas they shouldn't be in...did they not consider that said Agents wouldn't use such skills against their captors? Red learned a great myriad of things about some of the inner workings of The Blessings, but all detailed and displayed in non-sensical, code-worded speech patterns. Deciphering it was a nightmare, and even then the most she could ever work out pertained only to her own personal files and research in the case of her 'Re-Cognition Therapy'. But Cobalt? Cobalt was slated as a few ranks above her. He'd have more access, more details...probably a cipher or two for The Blessing's codes. Even then, the chances of Cobalt's knowledge being anything she could use for the threat in Los Santos was low...it was the only lead she had, so she had to take a chance. And if it lead nowhere? Well....he was an Agent. An Agent was dangerous....and a loose end. If he was still turned or his cognition deteriorated to 'Non-Recoverable' like hers did...chances are he'd need to be put down. Her path took her down the far side of the square, away from the loud voices and merry laughter to a more empty lot. A passerby or two every little now and again, but the area she approached was relatively abandoned. She passed into an alleyway, heading for the next street over, taking a left at the sidewalk and looking up at her destination. A large, multi-story building in the midst of construction with plastic sheets covering the outside in addition to various piles of debris, building supplies, and dirt scattered about. Tracking an agent was particularly the easiest...and once you did, you only had a narrow window to close in before they slipped out through your fingers. She had been following Cobalt for awhile now, and found this to be one of several stops he'd make for 'supplies'. Most tended to stay off the grid entirely, not even taking the risk to expose their face in public. You could never tell who a Blessing really was...neighbor? Co-worker? Lover? Sister? Husband? Hell, Grandma? There was no telling, and any risk was an extreme risk. That being said, the only safe way for an Agent to move was completely underground. Drops, tells, codes, anything to stay out of the light and cloak yourself in as much darkness as you could. Unfortunately for Cobalt, Red had a very good understanding on the fundamentals of hunting another human being, especially one who was a Blessing. She entered the abandoned building carefully and quietly through a side window, her pace extremely slow and her posture slightly crouched. With any luck, she'd be the one to make the first move. Knowing better however, she knew that Cobalt was already aware of her presence, it being his own turf. The only thing she could do now was try to not get neck snapped out of some dark corner, and give herself enough room to retaliate. Room to room she went, slinking carefully along, her eyes slow to move and thorough in their scanning. For many, the hairs on the backs of their necks would rise, the snake in the dark coiling to strike. You know it's there, but you're not sure where. Human beings rely on their sight and light to bring their enemies into view, because an enemy visible is an enemy killable. The unknown has been, and always will be the one enemy a human being cannot kill. What you cannot see is terrifying, and that fills a combatant with fear. You don't know what it is, where it is, or when it will come at you. But it's coming. It's there. That alone would make someone panic, lose their nerve, maybe even run. But not Red. Red had been on both sides. The hunter, -and- the hunted. She knew the signs, knew the moments...but even the most experienced can't account for all the possibilities. Red let out a shout as the wall to her left exploded in a cloud of dust and drywall, a firm grip around her neck squeezing and choking a wheezing gasp of surprise from her form. She felt her legs come out from under her, her body crashing through the wall and in a single moment she felt herself flying through unknown space. She crashed into the ground, sliding a good couple of feet before her back hit the far wall. She coughed hoarsely, the taste of plaster and the dust that clung to it coating her throat. Looking up, she shook her head of the ringing in her ears and beheld her attacker, her eyes widening and irises shrinking as a feeling of terror starting to worm it's way up her spine and up through her stomach. "Oh my fucking Christ you're an ENFORC- ACK!" Red started to scream as the thundering steps of a bull-masked individual stamped towards her, his hand finding her neck again and hurling her across the room. She crashed through a table saw and a couple of plastic buckets, her pained yelp echoing off the walls. She took only a brief moment to collect herself before she scrambled to her feet, taking several rapid steps back and putting her hands up in front of her defensively, watching the hulking beast lumbering towards her. An Enforcer. An Agent-Killer, an Agent Retriever. Guards of the Matriarch Caste and each a Warlord in their own right. The beasts that Agent's were cognitively trained to be unable to kill or fight. To them, Enforcers meant death. Often she had heard stories of Agents shooting Enforcers, watching blood spray from their forms but to no avail...the beasts would advance still. She had thought that she had entered the realm of fantasy and magic, hearing the stories told of these monstrous things. A couple of security recordings however, showed her the truth. Agents firing at Enforcers...but hitting the ceilings, the floors, walls around them. A byproduct of the torture, of the hallucenogenics, years of layering the psyche to sell the story that an Enforcer was truly immortal. They thought they were shooting on target...but their minds, twisted and tormented, -lied- to them. Just another layer to the total pillar of The Blessings' insanity. You'd think it impossible...but tell the same story to a frightened, broken, panicked child enough times after you've pumped their brains full of some backwards nightmare mixture of LSD, and they will believe it. Hell you could probably even convince them that the sky was purple. "WAIT!" Red cried out, holding up her hands as she retreated backwards "I'm not an enemy!" "That is very cute." The Enforcer droned, hurling a punch forward to which Red dodged, his fist crashing through the drywall. He ripped it out, turning to look at her astonished face as it retreated further back. "You can TALK!?" Red shrieked, pouncing back into the dark and out of sight. "As can you, apparently," The Enforcer grunted, his voice deep and rumbling through the confides of his mask as he stomped towards the direction she retreated in "More concerning...an Agent without her face." There was a rapid set of footfalls to his front, his advance halted as her voice cried out from the darkness until she suddenly came into view. "Oh you mean THIS FACE!?" A fox mask entered his vision, the woman in mid-air with a 2x4 clutched in her hands, swinging in a wide arc across her right. He ducked and sidestepped rapidly past her, sliding his foot back as she flew past him, the woman landing with a quick step and turn of a heel, the foes facing each other and crouching at the ready. "There she is...." The Enforcer rumbled, adjusting his posture and stance in preparation for a mighty slug fest. They started to stalk each other in a slow circle, Red changing the angle and hand of the board in her hands, the Enforcer cracking his knuckles in his balled fists. The difficulty now was re-engagement. Long fights in close quarters weren't either of their specialty. Element of surprise, efficiency, and scoring a kill to move on and score more in rapid succession were their ways. Both were designed to end a fight in two minutes, one to overpower and pummel their enemy into fleshy paste, the other to spring, strike, and that be the end of it. They both knew this, which is why neither advanced. They knew whoever moved first, they would be the one to die. A vicious stalemate. Red knew this, and despite wanting to kill this filthy, murderous creature for him being what he was...she had to remember why she was there in the first place. "You're Cobalt." She breathed, her pace slow and gentle, her eyes locked upon his behind the visage of her fox. "And you're dead meat," The Enforcer snarled, flexing his arms in preparation to tear her in half. "I thought you fucking idiots would've given up by now...but I see that your persistence is ever unwavering. If you thought I was going to get comfortable, get soft at the idea that I've forgotten about The Blessings and moved on, then you're more stupid than I thought." "I'm not a Blessing, and you know that." Red countered, shifting her weight and leg to which Cobalt mirrored in a counter. God she hated Enforcers. "And you want to know how I know that?" She chided, drawing a snide chuckle out of Cobalt. "And how's that, little fox?" His eyes followed her feet carefully. If she mis-stepped just a 'little' too much over, he'd be able to shove her off balance into an angle out of her range of motion. He'd have her. If only she'd- "I can speak, I can see you, I can attack you, you can see I'm not still Indoctrinated, and most importantly..." She paused for a moment, letting the weight of her words sink in before she delivered what she hoped was the killer point. "I'm not one of the Legionäre". This, did give him pause. For a brief moment he stopped, a move he'd know could be his death, but Red didn't act on it, a gesture she'd hope he gauge and be open-minded to. For her to be able to utter such a word though...it was impossible. Agents could barely even hold themselves together when it came to the mere mention of the word that described the highest level of the Enforcer Caste, the ones who guarded Their Benefactor. They were Enforcers sent to kill Enforcers, the most elite of The Blessing's broad armory. Having one of these sent after you...the reasons were few, but their weight could be cosmically felt by all within the Agency. It irritated him that such an explanation made so much sense. Sending an Agent after an Enforcer? Inconceivable. Agents ran -away- from them, not -towards- them. Though he didn't drop his guard, he did straighten up only slightly to growl "I'm listening...if only just." Red hadn't dropped her guard either, standing poised and at the ready, though she knew she'd have to be the one to invite him to the table for talks. This unfortunately, would tank her chances of survival should it turn sour but...there was really no other way out other than the lost of limbs at this point. "Good...because I didn't cross oceans just to chase dead leads," She grumbled, drawing a snort out of Cobalt as they stared at one another for a long, tense moment. Finally, Red slowly straightened up, the grip on her board softening as she opened her defense up and breathed quietly: "I need your help."

Keeping suggestion open for Boat interiors but, hey guys we got the boat dock! HUZZAH!

With the new implementation of Burgershot and such, This could totally be possible!!!!

September 11th, 2021 9:27:44 P.M. 352 Days, 2 Hours, 33 Minutes, 16 Seconds Remaining. "Do you believe in God? Then perhaps what I'm going to tell you won't be so hard to believe..." - Rhea Moraine August 30th - a few hours later Rhea was propped up against the hospital bed with a pillow, a cup of orange juice in one hand and an angry glower on her face. "Did you even hear what I said?" She growled, staring down Jay Bacon of the Los Santos Police Department whom had responded to the 911 concerning her...incident. They had found her stumbling down the street, her back a soaked flower of crimson, trying desperately in vain to reach the police department. It had been too long since she had been in the underworld to call upon any familiar faces or friends for help...but she knew that there were some in the Police Department (Jay Bacon included) who were more...'sympathetic' to her conditions. They knew more about her trauma and conflicts with The Blessings in the past, and with the threat of invasion coming...maybe they'd at least be understanding about this as well. This clearly wasn't the case...finding out after having come to in the hospital, waking up with Detective Lex Roth and Jay Bacon at her side. They had asked her about what happened, concerned for her well being but...after having relayed the entire story, including everything that had happened in the apartment and the threat of invasion...they were skeptical. "Do you have any proof...?" They had asked, as if the gaping hole in her back wasn't enough. But that's what it always had come down to...proof, like it was any easy thing to just procure. How was she supposed to get any evidence of the movements of an organization that hid all their tracks and operated in complete darkness. No paper trails, no sightings...no basis to start. The two asked her to keep in touch after she was discharged from the hospital a few days later, a defeated sag in her shoulders as she pondered her situation. A year...only a year. It seemed like that was so much time but...she knew it'd come out to very little in the long run. For them to give her an entire years worth of a head start, she knew they had to have most of their plans already iron tight and on the way to executing at least. Why else would the Colonel had been so forward with her. She thought about what she 'did' have...the hard drive she secured from the catacombs (as she called them) of the Blessings' Vice City headquarters, the rubble of the 40 story office building she destroyed when she had escaped the facility back in 2018. It had pretty much all the information she could need about a lot of the Blessings organizational operations but...all from years back. It mostly consisted of her files, her times spent in the water tank in the laboratory, or the training arenas, or her sessions with "Miss Break", the doctor in charge of the Indoctrination Protocols, which was all stuff she wouldn't have ever dared to give to the LSPD. It had information on her that was...very sensitive in nature, to the point where if they got ahold of it...they could do not only a lot of damage to her, but to a lot of people she cared about. Besides that, it was all dated for years and years ago, when she was around 18 to 20 years old. It was too old of intel to make any basis of investigation for the present day. They would need something more recent, concrete, and provable...all of the things the Blessings were very good at avoiding in terms of leaving a trail. Without that, she was in the shit. The LSPD wouldn't consider her but...maybe she could convince the other side of the law? Most of her friends and contacts were dead and gone, most organizations having either been disbanded, killed, or hiding deep underground. It was a long shot of an idea to try to convince one of these organizations but...a long shot was all she had, so a long shot was what she'd make. For the next few days, Red delved into the heart of the informational network, listening to rumors, listening in to talks, even talking to a few officers of the LSPD to see what they knew. Everyone and everything she heard, pointed her to a group that she knew was a sure bet to have survived the collapse of the councils, and to her knowledge would have most surely thrived from it: The Rooks. The Rooks she knew would've had the resources and the people to help her. They were a deep, underground organization that prided themselves on operating covertly. They had survived the focus of the Los Zeta's aggression...something no other group could claim. They had the weapons, the money, and the equipment surely to back their present day dealings as well. She had hoped that enough time had passed for bygones to be bygones...considering the last time she had met them in the field, it wasn't a particularly friendly experience. It was the only option she had currently, to meet with them...and so she sent about her feelers in attempts to grasp some point of contact she could get ahold of. She waited a few days, allowing her back to mend whilst she took care of a few errands here and there. She thought about the situation overall...what was at stake and what she knew she'd probably have to do to make any sort of dent in The Blessings' advance. She had been retired for 9 months...her guns locked up, her clothes dropped of gang affiliation, and her phone off indefinitely, with her son having the number for her burner. She had dropped off the face of the planet, more so to hide from Jason Steel, and the Blessings themselves. But with the threat of invasion...she could see distant doors opening that made her concerned that'd she have to consider coming 'out' of retirement just to stop them. She hoped it wouldn't come down to that. It was on the 10th of September that she got the call, a number for one of the Rooks whom she had heard of, but had not met personally: one Harley Pavlovich. Red knew she was a woman of business, someone with a shorter term of patience than most and one who like getting straight to the point of things. The 'take-no-prisoners' type. There wasn't much hope that Harley would believe her but...any attempt was better than no attempt. It took a few tries for her to get Harley to pick up the phone. Rooks were notorious for being particularly hard to find, much less meet, but with Red's reputation and legacy preceding her...she finally managed to get ahold of Pavlovich, and secure a meeting for the following night. September 11th - 9:27 P.M. The meeting point was simple enough: The graveyard in north western Los Santos, in the church's courtyard. Red arrived a little early, leaning against the hood of her Primo Custom and waiting patiently for The Rooks to arrive. When they eventually did, and when they approached her, it was with unsurprising skepticism. Many of the present day Rooks didn't really know Red all too well, and the ones who did only remembered her as one of the Los Zetas who had relentlessly pursued them, trying to force The Rooks to the same point they had pushed so many others to: total annihilation. When the Rooks finally settled in, Rhea delivered to them the same warning she herself had been given, and the same one she tried to convince Roth and Bacon of. She told them of the coming invasion, that in nearly a year's time they would be beset by an enemy that none could fight conventionally. With the Rooks help and resources however, Rhea could guarantee that some manner of foothold could be reached, and that as the year progressed, they could formulate a more concrete strategy against The Blessings as more of their movements and intentions became known. As she suspected though...Harley was not particularly receptive to a threat without much in the way of solid proof or backing. "Why am I wasting my time with this?" Harley had asked her. It was the same with the police...without any sort of definitive proof, there was no reason for The Rooks to get involved in any capacity. What's worse was that midway through the meeting, the LSPD had shown its face, circling near the graveyard after a botched bank robbery by another gang nearby sparked a larger manhunt for the suspects in the surrounding area. Harley was quick to push the suspicion onto Red, asking if she thought this meeting was some sort of joke, as a way of delivering some of The Rooks to the LSPD. Even with desperate assurances that this wasn't the case, Harley dismissed anything further Red had to say...and that was that. As the rest of the Rooks began to mount up and leave, one individual amongst them, Frankie, was more sympathetic to her cause. He had heard about some of her exploits in the past, and while wanting to believe the tale she was telling about The Blessings...there just wasn't anything that could be done without proof. He told her to contact him should anything concrete come up but...Red knew that even if something came up, by the time they could do anything about it, it'd be too late. The Rooks left with Red empty-handed, the deflated woman wondering if there was anyone who 'would' believe her about what was to come. The chances of such were low...too low to go around and keeping asking around for help. She knew the Blessings would be watching to some caliber, and it wouldn't surprise her if there were any sleepers already within The Rooks or LSPD who were already activated and actively trying to counter Red's pleas for help. It was that thought that gave her pause. The Blessings already within Los Santos...if she was going to try to garner any support, she'd have to stay ahead of The Blessings, and their sleepers. But with all spotlights on the city, moving without being seen was going to be near to impossible. She slowly climbed into the driver's seat of her car after the last of the Rooks left, gripping the steering wheel out of frustration and wracking her brain for any move she could still deem viable. She couldn't ask for help from anyone...not without proof. Even the ones she did ask, there was no guarantee that the sleepers within any organization she approached wouldn't counteract her attempts. She had to get creative...think 'outside' the box. And that's when it struck her. All the attention was on the city, on Red, on the plan, on the invasion. What if...she went 'around' the city. What if there was an avenue she could take that circumvented Los Santos, made her movements quiet and unnoticeable. In order to beat The Blessings...she had to move like them. Go dark, go underground, and figure out how to expose the sleepers hiding in Los Santos. The more she could learn out there, the better prepared she'd be when she returned, and just maybe...find some more present, concrete proof that The Blessings were indeed coming for Los Santos. Such a task might've seemed daunting, even impossible to most at the start...but not for Red. There was one starting point she knew she could begin with...though getting any traction with such a point was going to require nothing short of a miracle. And that point...was a person. Red knew she hadn't been the only agent to escape and go free during the Vice City incident. Most who escaped shotgunned themselves across the globe, vanishing entirely. She hadn't particularly given much heed as to the others however, knowing that like her any interactions with each other would most likely result in them trying to kill each other, as there was no way to really prove that any one of them was actually free of the indoctrination...or assigned to hunt down any escaped agents and kill them to tie up loose ends. Red's back was to the wall on this one however. Agents meant information, or at least where to acquire it. Information meant strategy, and strategy meant an offensive. As for information, it was at that moment that Red remembered that hard drive, the one she had pulled from the catacombs. Sure most of it retained knowledge about her...but she knew there was some information on at least a few others. Most of said files were too corrupted to access, but there was one file she vaguely remembered mentioning "Cobalt". Cobalt was in the same agency division she was...a man who (believe it or not) suffered from worse paranoid delusions she had, making him much easier to control. She wasn't sure what had happened to him during the Vice City escape, but the files did mention a secondary location in which Cobalt was generally meant to be stationed. It was a grasp at smoke in terms of a lead...but she was more or less in expert at hunting Blessing agents, having been dispatched at multiple points during her servitude to kill or capture them to tie up loose ends for the agency. It'd have to do for now. She knew it'd take a substantial amount of time, probably through the winter, to find the agent and enough evidence to bring back. Time wasn't on her side...every month that'd tick away was one less towards the invasion, but there was no other choice. Phone in hand, Red pulled up the information on the old travel agency she used to utilize to leave the country. It was older intel, but if she could get ahold of her old contacts, she could leave Los Santos without The Blessings knowing where she had gone. And with that, she set her sights on her next destination: Tokyo

Best lot we could've ever passed the torch to! Amazing work you guys!

August 29th, 2021 10:39:24 P.M. 365 Days, 1 Hours, 20 Minutes, 56 Seconds Remaining. “This isn’t what I ordered! The hell is wrong with you?” Spat the man at the front counter, practically tossing the unwrapped taco at the woman behind the counter, splattering the front service area in chipotle sauce and bits of meat and lettuce.. The girl behind the register gave a timid, frightful yelp as she threw her hands up in alarm to block the onslaught of taco being thrown her way, her apron and nametag suffering the brunt of the food-borne damage however. The girl peeked from behind her shield of arms, frowning with a mixed look of confusion and pain contorted into the features of her face, her ‘Candice’ labeled nametag dripping with a drop or two of sauce. “S-sir please calm down!” she squeaked, her little chest puffing in anxious beats. “What’s wrong with it?! A ‘Meat-Beast large with extra chipotle yes…?” The man huffed angrily, putting his hands on his hips as he dropped the volume of his voice, but his tone remained incredibly bothered and lacked any sort of empathy. “I said...NO chipotle sauce, at all! You dumb fucking co-” His words died in his throat, replaced by a panicked scream that grew high and terrified in pitch when he felt a hard shove to his left side, his back smashing into the soda machine just nearby and a weight pin him up against it. Before he could even make a remark of protest a hand snapped to his throat, clutching him tightly in clasping fingers and drawing a gasping wheeze from him. The girl behind the register gasped, hands flying up over her mouth as she witnessed the scene, of a woman with messy silver and grey, shoulder length hair and a modestly pale complexion hold the man up against the drink machine, her similarly colored eyes ablaze with a look of fury as she regarded him with a lip-curling snarl and clenched teeth. “Look here fucker,” the woman seethed “It’s a fucking taco, are you really going to lose your goddamn mind over a tortilla shell and meat?” The man, red-faced and clearly unsure of what to make of the woman could do naught but shake her head ‘no’ at her. He was surprised at the amount of strength she had, gasping as he was suddenly let go, taking a few gulps of air and scrambling out from between the woman and the drink machine. He turned, shouting “Fuck your shitty fucking tacos! Crazy bitch!” as he shoved his way through the door and disappeared into the storming night outside. The woman watched him go, staring at and past the door for several long moments to ensure he was fully gone before turning back to the register and slowly approaching, looking over the sauce-splattered girl standing there. Her face held a wide-eyed gaze of shock, her mouth partially open in awe as the silver-haired woman approached her, looking up at the menu for a moment and pondering her choices, continuing on as if she didn’t assault someone mere moments ago. The cashier Candice would’ve even considered that the incident hadn’t even happened and that maybe she was just imagining it if not for realizing that she was still covered in chipotle sauce. She blinked as the woman finally flicked her gaze down and stated as nonchalantly as an individual could “Could I get two number seven orders with fries, but hold the drinks please.” ~~~ Rhea Moraine huffed up the stairs of her small flat, a bag of fast-food in each hand, the sound of the door she nudged behind her closing with a soft ‘thunk’, muffling the sound of the heavy rain behind her, her feet making wet, squishing noises on each step. She sighed as she looked up at the near pitch-black darkness at the top of the stairs, wondering if her son was even still up as she made her way to the landing. “Sorry I’m late kiddo…” she called out, testing to see if he was indeed awake “Had to wait on some angry moron who was complaining about his…” she trailed off as she reached the top of the stairs, a feeling of dread sinking through her as she noticed that not only the lights were off, but that her power was off. No VCR lights, no fridge lights, no coffee machine lights, no tick-tock from her kitchen wall clock. She dropped the bags from her hands and behind her to grasp the pistol tucked in her waistband when she felt movement from her right, the sound of a knife unsheathing and a thin piece of metal pressing to her neck as a voice called out from somewhere in the darkness. “Ah ah R-2….let’s not make any hasty decisions...we’re only here for a little chat if you don’t mind,” The voice spoke, its pitch deep though slightly muffled. It carried with it an air of sinister authority, her eyes flicking to the right to see who it was that had her at knifepoint. Who it was wasn’t so much an issue to her as ‘what’ it was, her eyes widening and pupils shrinking in an odd mixture of fury and terror as an expressionless bull mask met her gaze. A Blessing’s Enforcer. “Now then, bring her over here if you please gentlemen, I do believe our darling R-2 will be quite compliant with our desire for conversation,” The voice spoke again, drawing a motion out of the Enforcer’s head for her to get moving. Still under threat of knifepoint, Rhea very carefully and cautiously made her way step by step towards the living room and to the voice, her eyes never breaking away from the Enforcer who matched her step by step. She could hear another set of footsteps to her left, the woman knowing that Enforcer’s were never entities to work or operate alone. As her knee bumped into the back of one of the chair’s in her living room, she finally looked forward into the darkness as a crack of thunder and lightning boomed and crackled overhead, illuminating the living room for but a moment to give her a view of two other Enforcer’s standing behind a masked figure sitting comfortably in an armchair, his legs crossed and hands clasped together neatly in his lap. From what she could see in the split-second that she saw him was a mask of some sort, but what exactly she had no idea. As if reading her mind, a match struck out from the darkness, hovering near a large candle that the individual in the chair had plucked from her coffee table, lighting it to reveal the face of a roaring panther staring out at her from the inky blackness. He placed the candle on the table, revealing on its oaken surface a chessboard, and a 9mm Beretta placed off to its side. She slowly walked around to the front of the chair opposite of the panther, slowly sinking into it to face her captor who took a moment to reach out to his right, an Enforcer stepping forth from the darkness to place something in his hand before retreating backwards. “Before we begin R-2...might you put this on? I’d rather we speak as equals.” The panther moved his hand forward into the candlelight, revealing her fox mask clutched in his hold, held out as an offer to her to which after a nervous staring at, she reluctantly took. She turned it over in her hand, her legendary visage peering up at her with its usual soulless, smiling gaze before turning it over and slowly pulling it over her head, the familiar view she had grown accustomed to over the years settling in place. The panther beheld her for a second, letting out a shaky breath and shaking his head before letting out a light chuckle and clearing his throat. “You must forgive me,” he began, leaning slightly forward in his chair. “You are...something of a legend around my peers, more a ghost story to be sure but...a legend nonetheless. A moment if you will, for me to collect myself.” “Where’s my son?” Red growled in a demanding tone, her hands clutching the arms of her chair in tensed anger and drawing a light laugh from the panther. He shook his head, pointing an idle finger towards the fridge behind her as she said “Safe and sound, by the looks of the note he left for you at the fridge. Smart boy that...already speaking in code and vanishing out from under us before we could even arrive or get a track on him.” He paused to clasp his hands back together, leaning back in his seat as his voice grew low, sinister even “You taught him well.” Red scoffed, leaning forward as her voice dripped with malice, her lack of patience clearly present as the Enforcer’s surrounding them closed their fists in preparation for any attempt of assault from her, which came only in the form of words. “Whatever it is you people want, I can already tell you that you’re not getting it from me. I figured you would've learned that from the last Enforcers you sent after me.” “If you mean the Enforcers you killed in that steel factory over last Winter...that was an overstep from Vice City’s Matriarch that I can assure you...will not happen again.” The panther paused for a moment, his words hanging in the air for a moment before continuing. “Believe me R-2, nothing would please me more than to sever our ties with you and walk away...but you have a funny habit of being inconveniently in our way at the most irritating of times.” He shrugged, staring down at the chessboard for a moment before looking back up “But where are my manners...regardless of the nature of our relationship darling, it is pleasant to see you in good health. As for introductions well...we all know who you are of course, but you can simply call me The Colonel.” Red beheld the panther-clad individual for several moments, her gaze turning slowly left and right, not so much paying attention to him as she was his Enforcer’s. There were four of them in the room, a complete team which meant that in her current situation...there was no escaping. She’d have to play ball until an opportunity she knew wasn’t coming presented itself. She just hoped her son had gotten far away enough to make whatever stalling attempt she needed to make worth it. “Well then, Colonel,” Red growled, looking back towards him “Can you enlighten me as to why the fuck it is you’re here? And no cryptic bullshit, if you want us to speak as equals then you’re going to can it with the cloak and dagger nonsense.” The Colonel laughed, motioning to the chess board in front of them before reaching forward to pluck one of the pawn’s up, placing it forward a square. “Care to play as we talk?” He offered, leaning back as his first move was completed. “I do love chess...played it extensively growing up when I was but a wee lad.” Red regarded him with a look of narrow-eyed confusion and irritation from behind her mask, unsure if he was actually serious or not before warily reaching forward to move a pawn of her own up two squares, reluctantly beginning their game. “Excellent,” The Colonel breathed, clearly pleased as he moved another one of his pawns down the line forward, again only by one square. “You wish to speak in terms of frankness, very well. I shall be as direct as I can be then.” As she plucked up the pawn she initially made her first move with to move it forward another square, her hand stopped as the Colonel said in a very threateningly grave manner: “In 365 days, The Blessings will be taking Los Santos.” Her gaze snapped up from the chessboard, staring at him for a moment. She wasn’t quite sure she had heard him correctly, but it sounded like he said that The Blessings were… “Taking,” she breathed, her gaze piercing “As in…” “Invasion, yes.” The Colonel finished for her, watching as her hand very gently and shakingly placed the pawn down before quickly moving one of the bishop’s of his out from the backline and into the front arena, poising itself to strike and putting pressure on her next moves. He pushed up gently from his chair, stepping out from around the board and towards one of her far windows as Red followed his movements, her breath starting to grow visible through the mouth of her mask’s muzzle, a sweat building on her forehead. He stared out at the thunderous roar of the storm outside, the rain torrential and the wind furious as he clasped his hands behind his back, turning his head to speak back to her “You can feign surprise all you want R-2, but even I know that in the very back of your mind...you knew this was a possibility, if not a guarantee from all that you’ve witnessed in your time here.” She continued to stare at him, unsure of what to think or...really say. The Blessings invading Los Santos? The thought of it, knowing what the end result could be, knowing what would befall the denizens of the city, of the state even. She had escaped the murderous grip of Vice City...but to know that the same subjugation was coming to her home… “Why…?” Red finally gasped, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The Colonel slowly turned to her as she went on in an almost pleading manner “Los Santos has done nothing to earn your gaze, there is nothing for you here and no benefits to taking it, its Cartel connections operate from the outside in not the inside out.” The Colonel chuckled softly under his breath, shaking his head as he slowly paced around behind Red’s chair, the woman tracking him with a turn of her head until he came into view on her other side, the panther mask-clad man pausing in his steps to turn rapidly towards her to address the shaken woman. “If you’re talking about in regards to recent times...you’d be mistaken, Miss Moraine…” He hissed her name like it was burning him to say it, using it for the first time this evening instead of her given Agent designation that she had grown accustomed to the Blessings considering her as during her decade-long stay with them. “We’ve had our eye on San Andreas for a long time Miss Moraine, and it wasn’t until you recently ‘retired’, that we started to come to a conclusion and consensus on what needed to be done to resolve the nightmare that’s been stirring on this pile of rancid rock for too long.” “Nightmare?” Red scoffed, shaking her head and scooting to the edge of the chair, the two Enforcers behind her tensing up in their shoulders, ready to spring. “There is no nightmare here Colonel, regardless of what you’ve seen or heard, the ‘Natural Balance’ has not been swayed out of control. The Colonel smiled with teeth like daggers behind his mask, nodding in impressed appreciation. “You know of our ways and philosophies better than I originally guessed Miss Moraine...I did not think you cared to commit them to memory.” “Know thy enemy…” she growled, to which the Colonel let out a cackle of delight, shaking his head. “Impressive...but, if you truly knew of our ways, you would not be so confused as to why it is that Los Santos needs to be righted in the first place.” He paced behind his chair slowly, eyeing the chessboard, muttering softly “Your move girl,” and watching as her hand hovered one of her knights, releasing it from the backline before going on. “It’s becoming increasingly obvious that while, yes...time between the major conflicts that arise in Los Santos promotes an air of peace and stability, the eventual spark and outburst of violence that follows is growing too much for the Government to control.” Red looked up from her move on the board, tilting her head in confusion as she retorted with confused anger. “What are you talking about?” she scoffed, “The Government has never had any major issues defending against the warring gangs and the collateral they bring.” “Issues? No,” The Colonel replied, quick to deliver his counterpoint “But...the severity in which they are increasing their responses only seeks to increase the violence further. They are adapting to the violence shown by the criminal underworld by creating more ways to enact violence against them, rather than pacification.” He paused to lean over, moving another pawn down the line, this time one towards the side of the board. “In the years you’ve been here Miss Moraine, the amount of violent crime and dissidence displayed here in this city has grown a staggering two to three hundred percent, with no signs of lowering in any known near future.” He finally paced his way back to his seat, settling down and leaning far forward, clasping his hands together and resting his chin upon them to stare firmly over at her, the intensity of such a gaze making Red shrink back slightly. “Not to mention…” he growled softly “The collateral suffered not only to the city’s structural integrity, but to its people as well.” He shook his head, motioning her to the board with a quick outstretch of his hand once more before finishing with a quiet “It must stop. It will, stop.” Red was quiet for several moments before she breathed softly, her tone careful “You are right in that action needs to be taken...but it does not require your ‘Blessing’” She leaned forward, plucking up a bishop of her own and plunking it firmly onto the board as she growled “I remember all too well what happened to Vice City, and I’m telling you Los Santos is not in the same state that Vice was. It does not require your intervention, only your absence. It will right itself. It always has.” The Colonel shook his head, sighing as she moved the rook he had freed up two squares forward, ready to deploy it across to the center. “We’ve given it time Miss Moraine...believe me, we did. I thought the same as you that perhaps with enough time the balance would shift itself back into a favorable position but...the harmony in the tune that your state has sung has long lost its pitch.” Red’s face fell behind her mask, a look of pure disbelief and horror etched in her features as the Colonel splayed his hands out as he leaned back in a very ‘out of my hands’ sort of gesture, rubbing them together after a moment as he said “I’m sorry Miss Moraine...but San Andreas, like America, is a tune...it must be sung together.” He tapped his fingers together for a moment, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air. It was here that a concerning thought started to web its way through the back of her mind. Something wasn’t adding up...the motives for this meeting a piece of that confusing puzzle. There was an uncomfortable silence between them for several moments before Red finally said “Your organization...it prides itself in operations from the shadows, from unseen fuses trailing to powder kegs that take years to finally set off. Espionage and subtlefruge your watchwords....so why?” She leaned forward, hands gripping the arms of her chair again as her voice grew soft, untrusting “Why tell me…? I am your worst enemy, your greatest threat to all things Blessing...so why inform me of what’s coming?” “Because,” The Colonel said, his lips curling up in a smile “My colleagues do not know that I am actually here...save one man.” He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping low “This man...is my superior, all our superiors. Your benefactor, for lack of a better word.” Red blinked. He must’ve been referring to their actual ‘leader’, an individual whom for all she knew of the Blessings and their infrastructure...knew nothing of the one who led them all in their entirety. “He’s had quite an interest in you as of late...the only agent to ever resist the indoctrination. He wonders just how well you can perform in the field without our…guidance to help you, to see if you ‘really’ have what it takes to be the warrior you’ve shown yourself trying desperately to be since you fled here all those years ago.” Red blinked, unsure if she was hearing him correctly “I’m sorry...but you’re making it sound like my benefactor wants me to stop you?” “He wants you to try,” the Colonel corrected her, clearing his throat as he shifted in the chair. “Your benefactor has as much of a lesson to teach you as he does this city, Miss Moraine. It's the same lesson we tried to teach you in Vice City, and it’s the same lesson you’re going to learn now.” He leaned forward slowly, his voice dropping low and taking on a more sinister, threatening tone as he hissed “And that lesson...is that resistance is futile. In all the time you’ve spent with us Miss Moraine, while it is true that you escaped, you only did so because your benefactor allowed it. Los Santos has long been a target before you ever arrived here woman, and in seeing an opportunity to teach the both of you a lesson, your benefactor wants to give you the pointless chance to come to terms with the fact that you cannot save this place, or yourself.” He rose, holding a hand out towards the window and beckoning her up “Come...let me show you something.” She hesitated for a moment, but the sounds of the Enforcer’s taking a few steps towards her from behind had her rising up to her feet rather quickly, slowly trailing after the Colonel as he lead her to the window, staring out at the view of the streets from the two story height they stood at. “Look out there Miss Moraine...a city of heroes and villains...criminals and law-abiders, all complacent...all ignorant.” He put a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head “So comfortable in their ways of life, so ignorant of the beasts circling around them beyond the light of their campfires.” Red trembled under his touch, unsure of what he was getting at, unsure of many things at the moment. He went on, sighing as he regarded the view with a venom in his words, a tone of disdain lingering on every breath “These people wouldn’t understand a threat to them if it was covered in neon lights. They cannot and will never see anything beyond their own internal struggles as a risk to them, not because they do not believe that they cannot combat such threats...but that such enemies do not exist to them in the first place.” He patted her shoulder, making Red’s breath shaky and uneasy. “The fact is Miss Moraine...is that no matter what you say, or do...these people will never believe you about what’s to come...it is beyond their capabilities to accept or understand. You will always return, full circle, to where it is that you have destined yourself to be…” And that, was when she felt the knife slide into her back. She gasped a pained cry, arms reaching back in reflex to try and grasp at the pain roaring like fire through her skin and nerves, panting heavily as the Colonel removed his hand from the handle of the knife he pushed through her skin, whispering gently in her ear “See you next year...Miss Moraine. We’re looking forward to seeing how you do.” With that, he grasped her by the back of the neck, heaving her back and forward, throwing her out the window with a thunderous crash into the storm beyond. The Colonel peered out, watching as she hit the roof of a Mule and rolled off the front, landing in the street with a thud. He turned back after a long moment, nodding to the Enforcers that it was done and time to leave, but when he turned back to look into the street he found it empty. Red, was gone.

On August 30th, 2021... Rhea Moraine was given a warning. In 365 days, Los Santos will face what she must do everything in her power to stop: Invasion. August 2021 - 'The Warning' September 2021 - 'Complacency' December 2021 - 'Shibuya' February 2022 - 'Dragons' May 2022 - 'A Bigger Fire Next to It' July 2022 - 'The Less You Know' August 27th 2022 - 'Contingency' August 30th & 31st 2022 - 'Never Fade Away'

So you're cooking drugs and trying out some of your beautifully processed weed, when you obviously get the munchies. Well hell, the table's hot enough, could try cooking a burger. Except you blow up and die horrendously when you try using your Bunsen burner for raw meat rather than drugs which screws up the water intake. That sucks :< Well, you could always put a campfire in your house....which will certainly give the Fire Department something to do, that is if you yourself don't set yourself on fire and put yourself on the menu. BUT, if you had a working stove or other pieces of deployable furniture that had the same type of scripts as the campfire for meat cooking...well...you'd probably get to enjoy said snacks and not detonate your RV. Essentially if it's scriptly possible to purchase either from general stores or the furniture store (Stoves, kitchen-like and restaurant variants), pieces of furniture and deployable/collectable versions of a campfire (Portable camping stoves), I think it would bring quite a large, open opportunity for roleplay on several different aspects. Farmers market? Hunters living off their game? Simple home life with the missus or mister? Restaurants being able to bring in raw ingredients into their properties for storage, and to cook it on demand! Let's leave the campfires to the outside, and get to some REAL cooking....the legal kind! (As an obvious note: Please keep all comments constructive and relevant to the topic, in addition to being friendly and non-aggressive in relations to the Community Guidelines.)

Time to get back out onto the high seas! So there's a parking lot in Legion Square...parking lot in Paleto, but there's no parking for boats! Parking for boats in houses is sssoooo limited when it comes to owning property close enough scriptly to park! I think that the Marina area that serves as the Mors Boat dock would be a perfect place for a 'parking lot' for boats! Land, deploy, and get back out on the high seas! (Screenshot specifically below) ADDITIONALLY, The Marquis is quite a large enough boat to house a possible interior like the RV does! If you want to go have a party out on the high seas, or camp out inside with friends, go on a large fishing trip and have a party, then a boat interior is the answer! I think roleplay wise this will bring about a huge opportunity for sea-like scenarios, and finally get PD and SD reasons to get their deployable boats some usage instead of rusting in the warehouses! Let me know what you guys think! (As an obvious note: Please keep all comments constructive and relevant to the topic, in addition to being friendly and non-aggressive in relations to the Community Guidelines.)

This can be archived now as it has been implemented! Thank you all for your feedback and ideas and support!

Thank you for the response. This is pending higher admin intervention due to the complexity of the issue. During this time we ask patience as the issue is resolved.

Vehicle has been transferred to MORS, pending owner's removal and re-test to see if the bug persists through a refreshing of its on-map state.

Responded to this personally ingame. Can confirm that upon entry/exit of the RV's interior, individual is teleported to Paleto. Attempted to move RV out into the open to test and see if it was the model not spawning correctly due to lack of space, but even in open environment RV continues to bug and TP individuals to Paleto. Owner states vehicle was bought new from Hayes Dealership. Need follow up and test.

Stop me if you've heard/seen this one before. We'll use...DOC / LEO as an example. Bringing a suspect into custody, to hand them over to DOC. You tell them you've got stuff on you that needs to go into their evidence locker. Pretty standard right? Sure. Until the conversation/scenario goes something like this: LEO: "Can you put these gloves into John_Smith's locker please?" DOC: "Why sure! You can just leave them on the ground." Or, LEO: *dumps all civilian items to be evidence logged on the ground* "Here's all his stuff." ??? I'm sure anyone who's had any interaction with anyone else in their lives doesn't particularly view people throwing things on the ground or dumping them from their pockets for -you- to pick up as 'normal'. My suggestion is an inventory trading script, something akin to the /frisk command that allows people to trade between their inventories. Much like the trading windows you seen in MMO's, with a window where players can drop items into, and a button to confirm the trade. Giving someone a gun, handing someone a GPS. Literally anything in the game that you can just pass to someone without dropping it on the ground like a rude butthead going "Here you go, dropped it on the ground for you." Is that normal to you? Not so much to me. I prefer my burgers 'without' sand, dirt, and pond water on them thank you. Just a suggestion, let me know what you think.

+1

"T H E Y ' R E H E R E" Part 2 / 2 Ryan Moraine wasn't sure exactly when it was that they hit the roof of the car below, but he did know that it was sudden, and that even with the padded cushion of the surely crazy and psychotic woman that he landed on...that it really frickin' hurt. He groaned, trying to blink his way through the pain as tears welled up in his eyes. They were kissed away by the rain as quickly as they formed however, the boy sitting up slowly off of the woman who lay limp underneath him. The roof had been dented in, the fox-mask clad female lay crumpled in a heap in the center of the wreckage. The car alarm was blaring, and from his position the boy could barely make out the silhouette of a bull mask wearing monster standing within the ruins of the window above. Ryan turned his gaze back down to the woman, placing his hands on her and shaking her firmly, shouting at her through the torrential downpour. "Lady, hey wake up!" He cried, shaking her as roughly as he could. He took a look back towards the entrance to the apartment complex, knowing it wouldn't be long before they'd be back after them. "Come on....!" He breathed, slapping her mask around by the muzzle "Lady PLEASE, you gotta wake up!" Glancing back up, his eyes widened as he beheld one of the Bulls standing at the base of the stairs up to the complex, standing in its wide stance and staring straight at them. "NOW IS A GOOD TIME!" He shouted, practically slapping her at this point as the Bull started to take slow, careful strides towards them. "RED!!!!" Red gasped, wheezing a harsh set of coughs as the boy tried to pull her up into a sitting position, urging her to move as the Bull moved closer, only a few cars away from them. Red shook her head, trying to get her bearings as well as the ringing out of her head when she caught side of the impending monster encroaching upon them. "GOD you fucking bastards suck at dying!" She roared, grasping Ryan's hand and forcing herself off of the car, dragging him along with her. She nearly collapsed as she landed on the wet concrete, her body screaming in agony as she picked herself up and limped away from the wreckage. Ryan took a few glances behind them as the Bull picked up his pace, power walking to a near jog as he thundered after them. Red huffed and heaved, pulling the boy along as she rounded one corner, and then another into the back parking lot. Her elegy rested towards the back of the lot, the woman fumbling for the keyfob in her pants and clicking the button quickly. She slumped against the side of the car as she pushed Ryan along, pointing to the other side and shouting "Get in the car! GET IN THE CAR!!!!" She looked over her shoulder, the Bull nowhere to be seen. She quickly stepped inside, turning the ignition and flooring the gas and together the two of them roared out of the parking lot. Just as Red made to turn left onto the main street, a horrendous blaring of headlights entered their vision, and a thunderous roaring of a powerful engine buffeted the inside of the car. She hydroplaned a moment, spinning semi out of control until she came to a stop, her windshield facing the cause of the disturbance. A black Kamacho rested there, the silhouette's of three bulls sitting in the cabin clearly visible. It revved its engine as Red revved her own, reaching over and grasping Ryan's seatbelt. She yanked it over and buckled him in, throwing the gears in reverse and slamming the gas. The Kamacho roared after her as she turned the wheel sharply, spinning the car about and slamming the gear up to surge forward. Moving from second to third in quick succession, Red pushed the engine harder and drifted around several tight corners. Just as she rounded one corner, she could just barely glimpse the headlights of the kamacho in her rearview. She was gaining ground....but if she didn't get out of the city soon, she was going to drift one too many corners and either hydroplane out of control or fly straight in front of any number of the LSPD who were....really not so big of fans of hers. She could hear Philipe's demeaning 'Oh dear' from here. "Ok kid," Red huffed, the pain in her body almost becoming too great to ignore. "I think we're safe.....for now." It was several hours later. After a few close shaves, the fox-masked woman managed to lose the Bulls, roaring out across the country side. They had taken brief refuge at a gas station, with Red going in to buy snacks and leaving Ryan out to pump the gas. She came back, limping, carrying not only snacks but several odds and ends of first aid materials. Back on the road, the drive was quiet for the first hour or so. Red had flicked on the radio for him, letting casual rock play softly as she drove them up the northern country side. It was a tense, eerie situation between the two of them. When Red finally did speak, it made Ryan jump slightly as he turned his head sharply to listen to her. "They're called The Blessings," She said, staring out of the front windshield. "They're an old terrorist and information broker organization, been around since the Cold War." Ryan nodded slowly, swallowing roughly. Red had trouble reminding herself that this kid...he was just ten years old. He probably didn't understand what was even happening...or let alone what he had just gotten himself into. The scale of danger he was in now...could it even be comprehended to a child? "Well...what...what do they want?" He asked quietly, turning in his seat slightly. "Me," She responded, pulling over to the side of the road and sighing, staring at her hands on the wheel. She took a few long moments to slowly look over towards Ryan before she huffed a small sigh and reached up, slowly pulling her mask off. Her red hair furled around her as her face came into view, double black eyes with colors of silver meeting his own. "I...was one of them, a long time ago. I was brainwashed and forced into servitude until...well...I broke free. I destroyed a sect of them in Vice City, where you got all your newspaper clips from." "But if you destroyed them..." Ryan asked softly "Then who were the guys in the bull masks?" Red had to take a moment to get her nerves under control. She never did like to address them, think about them...or even acknowledge "They're The Enforcers....they're the ones that the leader of the Blessings, the Matriarch, sends out when she needs something or someone utterly destroyed. They're...something that used to be human, but anything human was scraped out long ago...replaced by mute, autonomous killing power. They have a high tolerance to pain, they're extremely resilient to fatigue, and killing one is almost unheard of. I mean, fuck, I had to throw one in front of a train just to kill it." Ryan looked up at her in awe, reaching into his pockets and producing the plastic baggy with the newspaper clippings. "But...what about me?" He asked, looking up at her with such a begging look "Who am I...in all of this? The matrons at the orphanage...they know about these Bulls. Everytime I ask they punish me, tell me to stop asking, that it was just a Halloween prank that a bunch of men in bull masks were just parading around the orphanage, and that I was dropped off by other people..." Red slowly looked away, a pain in her eyes as Ryan shook his head at her "But that's not true...is it?" The red-haired woman shook her head, bowing it as Ryan whispered "Who...are you? Who are you to me?" The air was tense, quiet.... It took several long moments for Red to blink away her tears, to still the fearful beating in her heart and with a raising of her head and a clearing of her throat, she told him. "My name, is Rhea Devrim Moraine. I'm your mother. You...are my son." They stared at one another for a long time...Ryan at her, her at Ryan. Ten years she had been a prisoner of the Blessings...ten years had she been separated from her son. But now, at last, mother and son had been reunited. A thud pounded in Rhea's heart, her bottom lip quivering as Ryan nodded. It was then that she took a moment to get a tad bit more comfortable, nursing her wounds as she told him everything. She told him about how he was born, how she thought he was dead, how they took him from her and how she didn't even know that he was alive until only a few months ago. They stared at each other for a bit more before Rhea could no longer take it any longer, pulling her boy into a tight hug, letting out a shuddering breath and clutching him dearly. It was the most peace she had known in ages, holding her long lost darling to her. But even in that moment....she knew that such a peace couldn't last, not while they were still hunting them. They pulled away from one another, the weary, wounded mother taking a moment to look at him before whispering "Now...I take you somewhere safe. And then...I go kill the Enforcers." "But...!" Ryan protested, a look of concern on his face "You said t-that they're unkillable....what if something happens to you?" "Ryan..." Red whispered, looking away for a moment as she took a breath "If I don't stand up to them...you will never be safe. We will never be free." She put a hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes "I lost you once...I can't lose you again. This has to end." He stared at her for several long moments before he nodded, settling back into his seat and together they continued north. They traveled for hours, with Ryan sleeping most of the way there. She drove them to Deerwood Pines, to a motel at the edge of town. She looked over the familiar building, sighing as she pulled into the lot. This motel in particular she had picked out a long time ago, keeping one of the rooms reserved as a safe house for just such an occasion. She picked it out for its remote location, but more so for the location that rested about twenty miles outside of town...the place where she'd finally bring this nightmare to a close. She checked in at the front desk, quickly picking up a key and heading back to the car. She opened the side door to gently scoop Ryan out into her arms, carrying him along the sidewalk towards their room. After balancing him in one arm and carefully juggling the keys for a moment, she managed to nudge the door open with her foot. She took a few seconds to look around at the area behind her before quietly slipping in and closing it behind her. After leaving him on the bed, she took a quick walk out to the car, opening the trunk to ensure she had all the supplies she needed. She had been holding onto quite a few tools for awhile...up to and including the bag of C4 she still had tucked away, from the same collection she used to blow up the Blessings HQ in Vice City. She pulled one of the tarps over, revealing a manikin stuffed underneath a spare set of clothes and some spare spools of wire with what looked like a detonator. She huffed softly, going over her manifest twice before closing the trunk with a soft thump and heading back inside. After what felt like an age asleep, Ryan finally woke up. He sat up groggily, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes and looking towards the only light that seemed to be on in the dinky motel room he had found himself in. The bathroom light was on, the mirror slightly steamed and the sink absolutely smothered in long, red strands of hair. He tilted his head, confused before a figure stepped out from the bathroom, finishing zipping up the red and black skin-tight leather suit it wore. Red stood in the doorway, her hair chopped above her shoulders and dyed a dark, grayish silver. The sockets of her eyes and the edges all around were absolutely smothered in eye-shadow and eyeliner, and in clutched in one of her hands was her fox mask. "You're going to stay here until I come back," she muttered, making her away around the room towards him and sitting on the edge of the bed, resting her mask next to them and turning to face him. They stared at one another for the long while, mother and son reunited at last...only to have to separate once again. It wasn't fair...it wasn't right...but it had to happen. Everything in her life was paid at the price of blood...why should this have been any different? She had fought the Enforcer's before, run from them and survived. But she could only survive...she could never defeat them in the past. With all that she had learned however, and the immense amount of experience she had gained over the time she had spent in Los Santos....maybe...maybe now was the time at last. "Are you coming back..." Ryan suddenly whispered, looking up at her with such a worrisome glance that she had to seriously consider perhaps not going at all. She shook her head however, sighing "I don't know...but if I don't come back by the end of tomorrow. Go back to Los Santos, find Niki Zhou. She works at Los Santos Customs in the city, a mechanics place. Tell her who you are...and she'll take care of you until she can find you something more permanent." "But...we only just found each other again," Ryan started to protest, only to be gently shushed by Red as she pushed a finger to his hips. "And maybe..." she whispered gently to him "Maybe that's been for the best. I'm not a good person Ryan...I am not one of the heroes...one of the good guys." She leaned forward, pecking the top of his head and standing, plucking up her mask and moving briskly to the door. As she opened it to step through he called out after her "So you're one of the bad guys...like the Bulls?" She paused, taking a moment to pull on her mask and slowly turn her head, a mechanical whirring emanating from the confines of it and the eyes flickering for a moment before igniting with a soft glowing green. "I'm worse." ~~~ The Enforcer's had tracked her cell phone signal north, having lost her for quite a few hours. When they finally picked it back up, the had traced it to an old ironwork's and refinery a few hours away. Getting there wasn't much of a hassle, the three of them quiet, near motionless save for the driver as they made their way north. When they arrived, they sat and watched the outside of the building for quite awhile. They could see lights flickering on the inside, sounds of metallic grinding and flashes of sparks and molten metal casting eerie glows towards the windows yet....there wasn't a soul in sight. She was here. The sound of a phone ringing sounded off from the dashboard, the Bull in the passenger seat slowly lifting a finger to press the green 'accept' button and listening as a text-to-speech style voice spoke through the speakers. "Priority one. Locate and terminate Subject R-1." The three Bulls exited the Kamacho without another word. Two of them headed towards the front, while the other headed around the building towards the back. The rear-bound Enforcer took his time moving around the building, slowly looking towards the windows to see if he could see any movement. There was none, nor did he expect there to be. Subject R-1 was a particularly interesting animal. More terrifying than even themselves on certain occasions though he'd never admit to such. No...she'd be further inside, probably near the heart of the building and lying in wait. He rounded the last corner, moving towards one of the doors he saw there, the rusted metal cracked open to where it was slightly ajar. Yes...she had become quite predictable in the last few years. Tracking her was no huge issue anymore, and neither would be killing her. Though....that thought in and of itself was quickly tossed out the window as glaring light suddenly lit off from his right side, accompanied by the sound of a roaring engine. The Enforcer turned his head, watching as two mammoth headlights roared into his vision. He had only a split second to put his hands up before the semi-truck smashed into him, the vehicle driving straight through the wall and into the building. An explosion of metal and noise echoed across the surrounding area as The Enforcer was torn to pieces by the grill and the objects he was smashed into, mangling him into nothing as the truck finally smashed into a few steel pillars and stopped in an instant. The other two Enforcer's came to a stop as they had just entered the building, hearing the thunderous commotion on the other side. The sound of a truck door opening and closing echoed from somewhere within, the two of them looking at one another for a moment before silently splitting up, one taking to a set of stairs while the other remained on ground level, pushing further into the facility. The Enforcer moved through the building at a careful, precise pace...a hunter's pace. He turned his head slowly, scanning every are he could with his piercing gaze. The hulking brute was just about to round a corner to head back to meet the other Bull when a voice called out and taunted him with "And to think....I once considered you people the bogeymen." He turned his head slowly, and set his eyes upon her. She stood motionless within a rectangular archway, with the dim eyes of her fox masked trained straight on him. He wasted no time, turning towards her and briskly thumping straight towards her, his fists clenching in preparation to deal out a world and a half of hurt. He'd never get his chance however, as he stepped through some straw before her and came to an immediate stop when said straw burst upwards with a metallic 'CRACK!', accompanied by the slamming of a metal grate in his face, separating him from her. He looked down, seeing that he had been caught in a bolted down bear trap, his leg bleeding horrendously from the jagged edges that crushed his skin and bone. He looked up without a word, throwing a hand between the bars and grasping her neck, twisting it harshly to snap it between his fingers. But instead of blood...only styrofoam burst forth from her wounds. The manikin he had successfully murdered crumpled to the ground, staring down at it for only a moment before a movement to his left made him to turn his gaze. Red had stepped out from behind a nearby corner, standing in much of the same sort of pose as they had often taken when staring her down. She slowly lifted her left hand, a control module pressed within her palm with a thumb overtop one of the buttons. She pressed it, quietly dropping the module and disappearing back behind the corner. The Enforcer looked up, helpless as he watched from above him, a vat of orangeish-yellow molten metal tip from an overhead vat, pouring itself down onto its immobile victim below. The last Enforcer made his way slowly onto the higher levels, looking up towards a catwalk high above. He'd be able to at least get a good vantage point from above, probably even see her the easiest from there. As he ascended the metallic stairs leading up to said catwalk, he could hear a matching set like his from far over on the other side. Perhaps his brothers had the same idea? As he stepped onto the entrance of the walkway, he stopped instantly. Red stood on the far side, her mask pulled off and held in one hand as her other hand rested on what looked like a tape recorder on her hip. They stood there, brutal and bitter enemies facing one another without a word...without a single sound until Red pressed her thumb in on the play button, and waited. There was static for a moment until Red's own voice suddenly spoke out into the air. "There's a reason you tranquilize dangerous animals before you walk into their cage....a reason why the Matriarch would send you after me when it was time to come collect me, when I was off mission." Red slowly raised her mask, her body trembling as she narrowed her eyes at the embodiment of her nightmares. "Makes sense...doesn't it? I mean, who in their right mind would want to go standing in the way of the creature they specifically bred and groomed to be the perfect killing machine? Have you ever seen it? Of course you wouldn't have....you're still alive. So, let's rectify that....let's put it out there, let you...'admire', yours and the Matriarch's handy work..." It was an incredible moment...an unheard of moment as the Enforcer before her took a step backwards. Red slowly shook her head at him, as if to say 'No....there's no running. Not anymore.' It was in that instant that her voice on the recorder finally breathed the words that put Rhea Moraine...to rest. "Omega. Sixteen. Juniper.....CAROLINE." Red's pupils dilated as she pulled on her mask slowly, her hands reaching behind her, and unsheathing the hatchet and knife she had on the back of her belt. "Now then me..." Red's voice went on, the fox-mask clad monster taking a low, crouching position. "Get in there...and do what you do best." Red charged forward without a sound, rapidly closing the distance between them as the Enforcer reached down behind him, grasping a metal pole laying upon the ground and rearing it up to block the heavy swing of a hatchet down towards his skull. He broke free of her, ducking the knife and side stepping another wild swing of the hatchet before hurling the pipe around, catching red in the hip. She was silent as she staggered only a step before leaping back in with a furious flurry of blows. Back and forth they clashed, ducking and stabbing and swinging. She caught the Bull twice along his arm with the knife, and in his side with the hatchet, fresh blood quickly staining the leather. She had endured her own nasty set of hits, her bones aching under the assault of his blows as she caught on in the left shoulder, and another catching one of her thighs at the tip. But onwards they fought, moving back and forth along the catwalk with a graceful like dance, the best of their fallen order in the fight of their lives to finally decide and discover who it was who would prove to be the better hunter. Fate seemed determine to bestow its blessing upon one party in particular, as the fox threw her hatched up to catch a downwards swing form the Bull's pipe. She caught the pole under the head of the axe, yanking the tool town to slam the pole into the handrails of the catwalk and pin it there as she slammed her foot down into the side of his leg. A clear 'snap' was heard as its leg buckled, forcing him to one knee and giving Red the perfect opportunity to throw her knife forward in silence, pressing it up between the gap of its mask and into the side of his neck. She twisted it with a firm, single screw of her wrist, grabbing the back of its mask and rearing its head back. She flicked her hatchet, dislodging the pole from her grip and turning it upwards so she could slam the Bull's head downwards into the blade, throwing both her hands onto the back of his leather jacket, and hurling him over the side of the railing. She watched him tumble, motionless, into the darkness below. There were no thoughts, no words....only silence. She gently turned, walking quietly and gracefully from the catwalk...down the several sets of stairs and eventually out of the ironwork's themselves. When she got about halfway up the hill she was climbing, the tape recorder suddenly chimed up again. "So by now, I'm really hoping we've killed them all...because if we haven't, well....I'm sure we did our best." Red said nothing as she paused, looking down at the tape recorder for a moment before her voice sighed through the tape and went on "Oh well...success or failure...we were always bound to face the music eventually. I just...hope it worked out the way it was meant to. I'd be ok if the stars had it written a certain way from the start. But regardless of the outcome...it's time. Wake up." Red looked up, looking behind her suddenly at the ironwork's she left behind. A sudden torrent of pain suddenly rushed through her body, the woman hugging herself and letting out several gasps and shrill wheezes of air as she struggled to stay on her feet. She trudged up the hill, reaching its peak after a moment and weakly reaching down into the bag she had left there. She rummaged for a moment before pulling out her detonator, grunting in pain as she straightened back up and flicked the singular switch on the front of the panel. The red light beside it turned green, her thumb resting on a black button resting at the base. She gave the building a good, long look before she finally whispered "Good night Dad...." and pressed the button. The ironwork's exploded with a thunderous kaboom, the shock wave nearly knocking her off of her feet, and sending a great plume of fire and smoke upwards into the air. She stared at it, the flaming wreckage, the now tomb of her most vicious nightmares. She only gave it a few moments however, before she silently picked up her bag, slinging it over her back. She pulled her mask off, her face weary and her eyes lightly fluttering before stuffing it in the bag as well and turning southwards...beginning her long, agonizing trek back towards the motel. Back towards her son. Her Familia. Her City. Home.

"T H E Y ' R E H E R E" Part 1 / 2 Two Weeks Ago Red stepped in out of the rain, shaking out her grey and black checkered shirt and trudging up the front stairs of the apartment complex. She passed the figure sitting on the stairs, the person clearly having been waiting for her yet she gave them no manner of attention or even a passing glance. She didn't want to speak to them, didn't want to have to continue to hear more and more of the same nonsense, or to be laden with further doubts. Besides...since when was talking to ghosts any sort of a good idea anyway? The last time she had talked to the figure, it had been at Paleto Bay after her, Alicia, and Gabe had their quarrel at the impound. She had taken their words to heart, understood what she was supposed to do but...the figure had to make its voice known. "You see how easily Alicia can just let you go?" It said, slowly pacing its way around her as she listened to the radio chatter of a hunt against the Triads making its way towards them in Paleto. "You raise your voice, have an opinion, and she threatens to just throw you away? And Gabe...did you really buy all that nonsense he spoke of you?" It wasn't how like the figure was describing it. Red knew it, her hands shaking too badly to be able to unlock her elegy. She wished it would just go away...stay buried where it belonged but she knew it was futile. To be haunted was to be human, so she'd endure the torture...for now. Even now, weeks later in the lobby of the apartment complex the hauntings continued, yet this time the ghost wordlessly watched Red walk past her and up the steps to the elevator. The fox-mask clad woman stepped inside, slowly turning and feeling her heart skip a beat as the figure now stood before the entrance, staring at her. She tried not to look at it, attempting to avert her gaze from the blue hoodie she wore. It was torn to absolute shreds, pockets of ghoulish, rotten flesh appearing between the tears. The wolf mask the figure war was equally worn and torn, the eyes of it having been ripped outwards and showing two bottom pits where the eyes of the woman beneath would've been seen had she any left. The woman was silent as the elevator door closed, drawing a shiver from Red as she gently tapped the button on the side panels to take her to her floor. She crossed her arms, standing close to the door and bowing her head and taking a few rare moments of brief respite to clear her mind. A tall order indeed, the events of the past months weighing heavily on her shoulders. It was a weight she was used to carrying, but nowadays the burden seemed to be too much to bear. The elevator dinged once...twice...three and then four times before it suddenly came to a halt. The tiny room jostled with a thunderous set of metallic clangs and whining parts. Red frowned, looking towards the panel and seeing that the emergency stop had been activated. She tried to get the buttons to respond, even tried the intercom but all the systems appeared to be down. She sighed, reaching down to her hip and drawing the large knife she carried around, wedging it between the doors and trying to get them to spread apart. She went on this way for several minutes, quietly swearing and grumbling as she made no leeway. The ghost mouthed off behind her, its breath raspy and ethereal as it said "Why must you see the need to force things to your liking? Wouldn't you rather let nature run its course and just enjoy the ride?" But of course Red didn't listen, nor did she acknowledge the voice of the being behind her until eventually it sighed and muttered "Very well....have it your way." The lights suddenly came on and the whirring groan of the elevator finally signified that the power was back on. She knew by design that the elevator doors were designed to open in the wake up emergencies like these, so she took a step forward in anticipation. As the doors opened, she came to a sudden stop, her head tilting up as her gaze was immediately drawn to something towering over her. Her breath was silenced in her throat in the tenth of a second, her eyes growing wide. She had barely a chance to scream as a hulking figure, clad in a tight leather jacket and a bull mask, stepped forward into the elevator and threw a hand around her throat. She cried out, having been hoisted and heaved upwards and slammed into the back of the elevator. The knife dropped from her hand due to the impact, her legs kicking frantically at the air as the Bull held her firmly at length, barely moving despite the onslaught she was attempting to dish back out to him. She threw a fist into his wrists, her legs frantically kicking at his legs and stomach. What hits she did land didn't seem to phase the monstrosity at all, the Bull turning and heaving with all its might around him to toss Red out of the elevator. She flew across the small landing, hitting the ground with a thud and sliding off of the top most step of the staircase leading to the lower floors. She cried out as she tumbled down the steps, thankfully only rolling down one set before coming to a sprawling stop. She coughed, retched even as she panted and slowly looked up to see the Bull standing up at the top of the stairs, watching her with its arms at its sides. She made to get up, slowly working her arms under her to get up into a kneeling position. Unfortunately, as she moved so did the Bull, starting to take a few steps down the stairs towards her. After his third and fourth step however, the Bull suddenly lurched forward, arms stretched outwards. It toppled over itself, rolling down the stairs and crashing into the wall next to Red, falling limp. She snapped her head up to the top of the stairs, a shrill gasp emanating from her as she beheld her own son, Ryan, standing at the top, panting rapidly out of fright and standing in a position of having just shoved her would-be assailant down the stairs. Questions raced through her mind as she tore up the stairs after him without a second thought, quickly grasping him up in her arms and turning back to race down the stairs. She huffed and grunted as her heels clacked loudly against the floor, looking back only once to ensure the Bull was still unmoving, and it was. Down and down the stairs they went, coming down onto the landing of the 1st floor when she suddenly slid to a halt. Looking below, she could see another of the Bulls slowly making its way up the lower steps towards her, causing her to gently lower her son to the floor and grasp his hand, turning and sprinting away down the main corridors of the floor. Apartment doors were a blur past her, the two of them turning several corners. Left, then right, then another right, then left. As they rounded the next bend however, the two of them beheld yet another Bull pacing slowly towards them. Looking over her shoulder, she could see one of the Bulls from earlier round a corner and make its way towards them, cutting them off from both ends. Looking to her left, room 55's door rested in front of them. With the Bulls drawing closer, Red yanked her son behind her and drew her point fifty, taking a few shots at the door handle and kicking the door itself in. As they fled into the darkness of the room, Red wasted no time in throwing the door shut behind her and turning both deadbolts and chaining the door. "Why didn't you just shoot them?!" Ryan asked, watching as Red rushed to the far window on the other side of the living room. She stared out of it for a second, nodding and quickly rushing back. She yanked a large towel out of the bathroom, approaching Ryan as she said "It wouldn't work...trust me," and wrapping it around his head. Quickly plucking both gloves off of her own hands and pulling them over Ryan's, she picked him up into her arms. "You're going to need to trust me now...ok? Whatever you do, do not scream." Ryan nodded against her chest, eyes hidden from the world as the door behind her started to thud and get throttled about violently. Without looking back, Red took a few steps back and made a running charge towards the window. She muttered a few rapid prayers as she took a running leap over a couch and dove forward, corkscrewing into the air so that her shoulder would collide with the window first. As they exited the window into the roaring storm outside, Red could just barely make out the sound of the door being torn apart from within, the wind tearing at the duo as they sailed through the air towards the street below. Continued in Part 2 / 2

SPOOKY TIME!

The Son She kicked it into the highest gear, veering her weight to the right and sailing around the curve of the road. The wind whipped across the firm texture of her fox mask, the soulless green of its eyes gleaming in the sunlight as she tore her way up the winding roads of northern California. She hadn't told Alicia where she was going. Hadn't told anyone. She had left all her belongings behind, including her cellphone and had even stolen a bike to cover her tracks in going north. She hadn't planned on coming back up this way, at least not this soon....but the looming threat of war had reshuffled her priorities. Not to mention the strain she felt in her mind, slowly tearing itself at the seams. She had felt it since the night she learned the truth of her own birth...the slow, gradual decline. Being reborn meant tearing away everything that the Blessings had done to her...but too late did she fully understand what that meant. The Vice City Sect had always prided themselves in the 'reprogramming' aspect of their work, breaking a human being down to their foundation and rebuilding what they needed to back up, effectively creating their standard brand of 'agent'. But a human being....at their core, their most basic level...is primal fury. "An animal," The Matriarch had always told her, "An animal is all we are...all we can ever strive to be in life R-1. We as people have been domesticated...like pets, to live in the modern world amongst one another and bound by delusional beliefs of peace and harmony." She could feel it, even now...the blood rising in her veins. Oh she had free herself from The Blessings alright...but by dismantling their programming she fell right into the Matriarch's final trap...the foundation. CRU was beyond her now. So was help from Alicia, from Niki, from anyone. Believing her Fiance' to have abandoned her due to her Triad affiliation, being mercilessly hunted by the LSPD at every corner and turn, Roth's breath hot and angry on the back of her neck, and now yet another war just over the horizon....this could've been the very last chance she had at real contact. She had been this way once before, but...never really completed the journey. Nerves were her downfall the last time she had made the attempt, but this time...this time everything was on the line. This could very well be the last time...the only time...the final time....she could ever have any chance of seeing him. A few more hours on the road and she found herself north of the Shasta-Trinity National Forest, in a town just south of Edgewood. It was a quiet little town, your usual amenities and local shops. She stood out like a sore thumb, catching odd glimpses from some of the people she passed by as she slowly rolled through the streets on the motorcycle. She had to move quickly...quietly. If LSPD had popped the BOLO on the vehicle and threw her description out...it was only a matter of time before local LEO's or worse...the State picked up on her movements. She could practically hear Campbell's monotone indifference and Sanchez's handcuffs from here... She ditched the bike two blocks away from her target, tucking it back behind a cluster of dumpsters behind the local coffee shop and took to a path into the treeline across the street, making her way slowly through the brush. It reminded her of long ago...when her and Reina would travel the Missouran wilderness together as children. Long gone were those days though...the transition between her generation and the future starting to come about. Before too long, she found herself standing behind a large oak located in the eastern fields of the building she was looking for, blending in amongst the rest of the foliage. She peered slowly, cautiously, the open smile of her fox mask just barely visible from her vantage spot. She had managed to get a layout of the place from some old blueprints and outlying photographs, as well as a couple of time schedules by posing as a contractor for construction work, needing to work on a specific part of the eastern wing and needing to know when would be the most convenient time to do so....namely lunch. Lunch time was when the kids all exited the building to eat, and to play in the fields. Her gambit had paid off, as 1 oclock ticked away on her watch, a bell from within the building went off and kids flooded out of the front entrance, eager to being their playtime. She stood there and watched, far away, her eyes scanning the crowd over and over again. To be honest she didn't want to see him...she wasn't sure how she'd react, or how she'd feel...but it being the last time, she had to be sure. She couldn't leave it to chance. When she finally did see him, her breath caught. She had seen a photograph of him from years ago, and even then it was at a far distance but she knew...she knew right then in her heart it was him. A mother always recognizes her little one. He was tall for ten years, skinny but not lanky, and a full head of raven hair on top of his head. She could tell he had freckles, the way his dimples showed when he smiled and laughed with some of his friends. Her cheeks felt hot, silent tears spilling rapidly down her face beneath her mask as she held an expression of concern. Immediately her mind flooded with thoughts...thoughts she had ached to have ever since she knew of his existence within her: 'Was he healthy? Was he eating well? How were his studies? Was he popular? Was he....was he normal?' Her chest felt heavy, thudding and pounding with the beat of her heart as she clung tightly to the tree. She couldn't chance staying for much longer, but...by the stars just seeing him really put her mind at an ease she had not felt since she had first met Caroline. She tried so hard to pry herself from the tree...but her grip remained firm. She didn't know what it was...maybe she couldn't tear herself away, maybe she was scared if she let go that'd she rush towards him. It was only when he turned his head, catching sight of her and tilting his head in her direction that she let out a soft gasp, finally releasing the tree and turning to scurry off. She had nearly made it to the treeline when a voice called out behind her "Wait!" She stopped dead in her tracks. His voice was light, yet commanding though she knew it wasn't with intention. He could've told her to destroy worlds and she would've done so for him, the weight on her heart pressing heavily as she slowly turned her head to face him. When his eyes met the glassy orbs of her fox mask he took a step backwards, clearly frightened and unsure if he had made the right call in stopping her. From here she could see the same freckles as hers...the same silver in his eyes. The shape was more Reina's, like their father, along with that firm jawline and his brow. He was hers though...there could never be any denying it. They stared at one another for a long moment, neither moving, her barely breathing. "Y-you..." he muttered, staring up at her with wide eyes, filled with wonder, curiosity and fear "You...I, I know you. You're the woman aren't you....from the TV, from the news articles...?" He tilted his head at her, going to take a step forward as she took one back. "You're the lady from my dreams..." "I'm no one," she said, shaking her head firmly "No one of consequence...I'm...just lost, just passing through." She waved a hand dismissively at him "You should go back to your friends, back to your lunch." "But it IS you," He breathed, that eerily familiar narrowing of his eyes growing as he took another step towards her "Who are you...? I've asked the staff how I got here...they always say the same thing. Men in halloween masks...bull masks, they brought me here from Vice City. Since then as far as I can remember...I've had dreams, thoughts, feelings...I tried to look for anything that could lead me to where I came from and..." She paused for a long moment, looking around before sighing and kneeling, watching him approach her cautiously, reaching into a small satchel and pulling out a small wad and pile of paper. He handed them to her carefully, the woman in the fox mask gingerly taking them and sifting through them slowly. It was the newspaper clippings...of the Vice City shootout, and more. Brief glimpses of her, news reports, and some more recent ones about the rising levels of violence in Los Santos. "You did your research..." she breathed, looking up at him after a moment. "But still," she said, shaking her head "I'm no one." "N-no," He said, his voice wavering slightly as he tried to put on a brave face "M...my teacher tells me that everyone is someone to somebody...even me, and even you." Her heart softened slightly at his words. Such words spoken from an innocent youth...young, carefree, unburdened. Oh how she envied him. And to think...she was in his dreams. He had researched her. She had to have assumed that if he was her son...he would be resourceful like her, like her Aunt. He'd piece it together, somehow, someway. Though he probably only had scraps, barely anything to call a lead. "Wise words....hopeful ones," She said, slowly getting up "You ought to keep listening to that teacher of yours," He continued to stare at her, a sigh passing through the nose of her mask as she put a hand to her head and thought for a moment. A long minute passed before she huffed and pointed at him "Look kid... everyone questions where they come from...it's only natural. But...sometimes it's not important. The past is the past, and the present is now. Why don't you just...just live for the future, huh?" "Because I think everyone should know where they come from..." He said, frowning at her "And, and you being here, that's...that's like fate right?" She scoffed, shaking her head "Fate is bullsh-....fate is nonsense kid, everyone makes their own destiny. Even if one's chosen for you, life will put the control back in your hands one way or another." She made to turn, pausing as she looked over him, sizing him up. His bottom lip quivered, a look in his eyes that could've destroyed worlds. Her heart was no exception as she let out a heavy sigh and growled "O...Ok, look. I...didn't really plan for things to go this way. I'm someone...sure, ok, but in the next couple of months I may not be someone anymore. Something is coming...and it's big. Even if I were to speak, what would it matter if things were going to change soon anyway?" "Well...w-what's coming?" He asked, a tinge of fear in his voice. She swallowed before quietly whispering a single word: "War." She looked past him, towards the orphanage and let out a small breath "But not just war....a shadow. A shadow has begun moving in the east...slowly making its way this way...and it is a destroyer of all things good and right." She looked towards him, staring him down. "I'll make you a deal," she said "I will return, in two months time. At that point I will tell you the truth." She held a shaking breath, trying to keep her breath under control as she went on "B-but....if I don't come back...you have to drop this research. The life you're looking for....the answers, the Bulls and Vice City....that's history kid. Focus on the now, on the opportunities you have. Family, a new life, anything...but if I disappear, theses leads must too." He stared at her for a long, quiet moment, contemplating his options before finally nodding and muttering "Deal...," She nodded to him, and without a word, turned on her heel and ventured back into the brush, back to the diner, to the bike, back on the road with no company but her own soft sobs and tears to keep her company. She was on the path straight back to war...one she was sure would be her last. But for all the things to fight for now...she finally had something that went beyond just basic survival. She was fighting for her blood...her little one. Her whole life she had the truth withheld from her...this kid didn't deserve the same fate. Come what may, the fox-mask clad woman was not going to be stopped. There was going to be no compassion to her enemies, no comforts given nor quarter...and no mercy. One last war for Roja....for her son.

R O J A The Death of Rhea Moraine The sky crackled and roared above me. The thunderous explosions of light and sound echoed through the bowels of my very soul as I stared across the expanse of my apartment to the table just barely within my vision, the darkness taking most of its form into its tight embrace and nearly hiding what rested upon it from sight. The brief flashes of light from the storm outside however gave me more than enough time for me to look upon the visage of nightmares...a beast of anger and madness. Its lifeless green eyes stared into me, clawing with its piercing gaze into the ruins that used to be the sanctuary of my mind, bringing past memories and harsh pains I had once thought long gone back into the forward areas of my consciousness. I had worn her for so long...often times I wondered if there was anything left of me to salvage. I became that face....that war-scarred, gleeful looking expression that I wore as my own that often became the last thing my enemies saw before I sent them with the rest of the innocent and guilty alike who crossed me into the void. People identified me by that face, the face that was not my own. For many, when I pulled death from the top of my head I became no one, another nobody...invisible. It was as if I had pulled off my own head, and was just another body without it. There was no history of the woman beneath the Fox, no relations and nothing of worth. Yet...when my crown returned to me...yes, THERE she was... Irish Mobster....Los Zetas OG....psycho murderer...cop killer....unhinged warrior... There was Red....there she was, in all her glory, all her misery. No longer a woman in blue, but of checkered grey and black. Los Aztecas. Another organization, another path...but always the same kind. Blood would follow me in troves like it had done and continues to do even now. Wherever I turn, wherever I look...I see before me the corpses of my enemies or those soon to become them. I see distant wars and wars in the streets outside of my home. Behind me lies my old life...my true life. A life with Jay, with Kelly...Thrax, Wolf, Flint....my brothers, my sisters...my family. There was no life before that...no reason, no purpose beyond what was over 10 years that I spent in Vice City...a time of utter darkness, of true chaos and a maddening amount of bloodshed. That's what I experienced before, that's where I came from. I had thought it all gone once I destroyed the headquarters of a group known only as 'The Blessings'. I had an out. I could've walked away, gone home but...the fear of them...of them returning, of them still hunting me... No, my road wasn't over quite yet...so I ran here, to Los Santos. After the Irish War came and passed, it was the fights against Seaweed, Rebels, Russians, The Wanted, Narcos for a second and third time, and Rooks now for the third, and especially the West Coast War that really showed me who I really was deep down. I could argue that it was loyalty that kept me at Jay's side, keeping me fighting for him and his ideals, his goals and his beliefs. A sense of duty or a debt to be paid for bringing me into his circle and giving me a place amongst him and his own perhaps. But no...no deep down I think I knew really why it was that I stayed. And I wasn't a hundred percent sure until the era of Los Zetas had ended. Because even then, even after many retired and walked away...I stayed. Again an out presented itself, the door wide open. This time there was no fear...no doubts over the potential of me being hunted still by the boys in black, clad in their heavy bull masks. Really...I was free. Colorless. I could've done anything...gone anywhere. Mourned Caroline and the lives of brothers and sisters lost in peace until I faded away gently into a quiet passing...leaving behind no blood or legacy other than that provided by the better sister of our family already, with my deeds passing into quieted murmurs and eventually being lost on the winds of time, never to be reflected upon again. But I stayed. I put on the colors Alicia pressed into my hands, and thus I gingerly stepped onto the ever slowly spinning merry-go-round. At that moment...I knew what it was. It was unavoidable to circumvent the conclusion I had drawn...no escaping it this time. I never escaped the Blessings. They were with me, the whole time deep in my mind and my soul. I stayed in Los Santos to kill. To kill was what I was created for, it was my purpose for being. The Matriarch peeled away Rhea Moraine, removed who she was from the foundation of the soul and in her place...put me. Put Red. In essence I never really triumphed over her...because I couldn't escape my true nature. This was her victory over me...a curse. A curse to forever be the weapon she forged and honed me to be. If I was to serve Alicia and Carlos...it couldn't be like this. I couldn't go on like this. For years I could feel it, my mind slowly unraveling from the poison that The Matriarch embedded into my brain and veins. The violence, the murder...if I went on as I was, it would destroy me. The thirst would only grow and grow until I could no longer discern friend from foe. That was her true goal...the true loose end policy. Killing me was never the goal...because living was the greater torment, the greater punishment. To destroy everything around me and to leave myself completely alone was the true nature of what she had hoped for...to show me that no matter where I went, who I met, or what I did....I would always, end up, alone. I know this because I discovered it. Found it out from my last trip to Vice City, into the deepest depths of the ruins of The Blessing's HQ. From within the tomb of my old prison, I recovered it...the item I had looked for since coming here. The hard drive. The last little black box left that held everything, the only one left that wasn't destroyed or erased when I brought that office building down and The Blessings with it. Within it was the truth...all the truths. The truth about who I really was, what really happened on that night that Caroline died. I thought I knew all the answers, had it all figured out but...memory can be one hell of a thing. Two individuals can experience the same event, and yet remember all the details completely differently, and in this instance it was true. My eyes flicked from the fox mask down onto the coffee table before me. In the inky blackness of my home I could see the hard drive connected to my laptop, plugged in and ready to go. The problem was accessing it. The last time I had tried, I woke up on the roof of the building, swaying violently towards falling off the edge. Later that evening, I discovered a voice mail on my phone from myself, begging me not to try again to access it. Flint warned me to, asked that we try to pry out its secrets together but... I sighed, looking further beside the hooked up drive at the two tabs of acid on the table. They were a very special blend from Vice City, part of more things I had stolen from the ruined HQ. They were a key part in how The Matriarch 'restructured' me. I'd need their effects again tonight. I was out of time you see...I could feel myself on the verge of collapse. The weight of all the burdens I carried with me....all the pain...it had finally become too much. If I was to go on, I'd have to finally free myself from the burdens of my past, to make way for a new future...a new life. One free of The Blessings once and for all. I leaned forward, leaning to my right to pluck one of three shots of whisky from the small nightstand to my right. One. Two. Three. Each went down with a burn, my body trembling as I slid out of the chair and got onto my knees before the laptop, powering it on. The screen lit up my apartment with a murderous white glare that made me squint in pain at the login screen before me. Outside, the storm continued to rumble and roar, the lightning casting an eerie glow across the screen as it flashed. The main folder for the hard drive was there, already ready to be opened. Two left clicks away from what felt like my death... I tightened my lips into a grimace, swiping up the two tablets of acid and plopping them both into my mouth. My mouth crackled and burned as the tabs dissolved into my tongue and gums, a heavy swallow to follow. I sat there for a moment, looking towards my turned off phone. There was so much left unsaid...things I wanted to tell Flint, Niki, Alicia....Lucy. I know she'd never forgive me if I died before our wedding...but there could be nothing of our future if I didn't make this last stand. I looked back to the screen, and double clicked on the folder. I sat up moment later gasping for air, my body shaking as if I was being tazed and oh I knew the feeling well. I looked around wildly, my throat burning and my eyes watering and spilling with tears that were spurred by no emotion behind them. I was on the roof again, but not the one atop my apartment building. No...I recognized this skyline all too well, having looked upon it with Caroline countless times. Vice City. I took a moment to collect my breath, looking down over myself in a fit of confusion as I beheld my form clad in my old red jacket, matched with the same black and red leggings and my heeled boots. I reached up to my face, my hands touching the familiar texture of a fox mask. Looking down at my hands, I noticed they were gloved, but that the fabric had all but been torn. I looked to the sky as I slowly got up, the clouds moving at an alarming rate and colored a deep, menacing magenta, casting an eerie glow upon the earth below. I knew they were there by the time I stood up, a familiar sense of dread and terror starting to worm its way through my belly. Looking to the far side of the roof, near the access door, they stood. Four in a row, perfectly still like statues with arms in a widened stance by their sides. The beady black eyes of their bull masks stared at me, emotionless, lifeless. Not a breath escaped them, not a movement nor sound. I turned to face them, trying to calm my nerves and steady myself for what was sure to be a fight. Yet they didn't move or advance...merely stood there. I was pondering on whether or not I should make the first move when the door behind them suddenly opened...and she stepped out from the darkness within. My breath caught upon seeing her body clad in her skin-tight, black leather attire, her heeled boots clacking loudly against the concrete of the roof and her fox mask gleaming in the magenta light of the sky. She gingerly stepped between two of the bulls at the center, standing before them and staring straight into me, into my very heart...my being. It was The Matriarch of The Blessings. "Hello darling," She said with her usual elegance, her tone prim, proper, and with the subtle traces of a condescending nature. I didn't answer her at first, merely watched her fold her hands in front of her lap and clasp them together, the Matriarch taking her first few steps towards me and slightly shaking her head. "My my...." She said, her voice dripping in awe "Just...look at you. Our little girl, all grown up." I could feel a tightness in my chest as she took ten steps towards me, stopping at about a thirty-pace distance resting between us. "Amazing..." She laughed "After all this time, you're still alive? How IS that?" She shook her head again "You just don't stop do you? You never quit, you never tire...my we built you so beautifully." "Shut, the fuck up." I rasped to her, my breath shaky "You know why I'm here." She turned her head to the bulls, addressing them as if she hadn't even heard my comment. "You know her favorite movie as a child was 'The Terminator', did you know that? Always she begged her father to put it on, always asking if she could watch it again and again." She turned her head back towards me "The T-800 was your hero, remember? Growing up you always marveled at how unstoppable it was, its simplistic perfection, its unbridled, unhindered fury?" "HEY!" I screamed, taking a step forward "I didn't come here to listen to anymore of your psycho babble nonsense and your cocksuckering BULLSHIT, I came here for the truth, the truth I've been owed for the last ten fucking years! Your ghosts have tormented me long enough, always begging me to come home and, well!?" I threw my arms around, pivoting to the area around and motioning to myself "Here I fucking am! You got what you want, finally. But now it's MY turn. Your entire program has been nothing but a means to torture me...if the truth that I tried to learn was so horrendous to the point where I tried to stop myself from discovering it...then I can't think of a better way for you to dish out your final blow. So SPILL." The Matriarch stared at me for a few moments, silent and still. When she eventually did keep speaking, she went on as if what I had said either didn't register....or she had completely ignored it. "The words of Kyle Reese comes to mind, in the scene where him and Sarah Connor were hiding in that beat up car...do you remember?" She slowly began a careful, delicate walk towards me, my breath catching in my throat as the sky dimmed rapidly to the point where we stood in near pitch-black darkness. "It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear, and it absolutely will not stop. EVER. ...until you are DEAD." We stood face to face, her lifeless, fox-faced visage staring into mine. "We designed you to be a weapon of war...you were never meant to be a person, or retain personality, or anything of that nature. Ever since you were born we've been preparing for you, designing you and others that would go before you and follow in your wake to carry out our will and the mandate of those beyond us. I blinked, her words registering but not quite clicking. I opened my mouth slowly, my body starting to tremble as I wheezed "Wh-....what do you mean since I was born?" The ground fell out from underneath me, my scream echoing out into the nothing as I fell through the crumbling office building. Rebar and stone rattled around me, breaking apart and piecing back together just as fast until I fell into a room where lied a screaming woman. It was an operating room, men in medical scrubs and masks surrounding her as she cried out in absolute pain. I scrambled to my feet, panting rapidly as I looked between the doctors and felt my breath catch, my voice cracking as I cried out "M-mom!?" A pressure around my neck caused my words to gag in my throat, my feet leaving the ground as I looked down to behold The Matriarch hoisting me up high. "IN THE BEGINNING," She roared "THERE she was, the beautiful, the mesmerizing. Oh yes she was quite the treat, our perfect foundation. We had studied her for nearly five years, gathering all we needed to know, preparing for her restructuring. She was to become our next in a long series of agents, ready to carry out the will of those who believed in a future free of corruption and political enslavement." She squeezed, my hands grasping wildly at her hand as my legs kicked frantically underneath me. "But along came HIM!" She yanked me to the left, turning me to point in the direction of the table. Beyond my screaming mother stood my father, arms held tightly by bulls flanking him and tears streaming down his face, his cries of anguish almost as painful as hers. The Matriarch yanked me to her once more, our masks nearly touching as she spat "HE took her from us...ruined her, DEFILED her....he degraded her foundation and the work we had etched into it, forsaken his oath to us and damning our oaths to the ones beyond us. He had taken a LIFE from us, and his debt would be repaid!" My eyes widened near to bursting as she shook me in her grasp, throwing me to the ground soon after as I gasped for breath, curling up slightly. "Y-YOU...!" I managed, looking up at her in horror "W-WHAT DID YOU-" "YOUR FATHER," She screamed "Would pay for HER life with that of TWO. We would not be denied what was owed!" She clacked towards me slowly, my body struggling to crawl backwards "Set back, by years, and years! Oh sure there would be more agents to follow, our work would continue unhindered...but nothing, NO ONE could replace the art that was your mother." She stood over me, reaching down to grasp the front of my jacket and yank me up to her face, her snarl nearly making my heart stop. "Don't you see...you vile child. We never 'chose' you from the crowd. The race that day was not one of coincidence. Your fate, was NEVER your own. You were MADE for us, to pay for your father's betrayal. And if you crumbled as your mother did, well....at least we'd have the 'other' one." She slowly picked up my limp form from the ground, holding me aloft above her. Words finally crawled from my throat as I coughed "And....and y-yet I survived you...broke free of you!" "Did you..?" The Matriarch retorted, shaking her head "Regardless of what you will ever do Rhea...you will always be our girl. There's no escaping us, no circumventing your fate. You were born a Blessing upon this world, you were born to conquer and destroy...that is your purpose. You can never break free of your destiny, no matter how hard you fight. Until the day you die...you are MINE." A sudden explosion took out the ground underneath us, both of us falling into inky blackness for several moments until I alone landed harshly onto a tiled surface, my breathing labored and my eyes watering. I looked around frantically, trying to catch my bearings when I saw her, crumpled in a heap on the floor. "C-Caroline..." I breathed, her still, lifeless and bullet riddled body clutching a detonator, the same one I used to destroy the Headquarters. Out of the darkness beyond I saw the Matriarch burst forth, racing towards the device with an outstretched hand. I took off as well, willing my body forward out of desperation to stop her. We met in the middle in a violent collision over my long-dead fiance's body, swiping, punching, kicking. I deftly moved left and right, ducking and weaving left out of range of her right hook, turning into a twirl to deliver a round house to her head. She went spiraling across the ground, reaching a hand out as I grasped up the detonator from Caroline's corpse. "NO!" She screamed as I flipped the activator switch, arming it. I looked towards her as she cried out "Do you really think that this will change anything!? The truth will remain the truth Rhea, the facts will REMAIN the facts! You cannot change your destiny, you cannot change history! You are a BLESSING until death! Everything that you are, will always be until you take your last breath!" "I know," I said, carefully stepping over Caroline and yanking the Matriarch up just as she had grasped me "To be rid of you is to die....this I've come to realize for a long time. And you're right, so long as I live, my life will be as its always been...a life of mindless war and misery." I shook her slightly, screaming into her face "But I have seen beyond the nightmare of this world you trapped me in, and saw the future. Love, family, compassion, these can and WILL exist for me." I threw her back to the ground, straightening up and holding that fateful button before me, watching as the Matriarch looked up at me out of panic "But not in this life...not for Rhea Moraine." I pressed the button, the building bellowing below us as I gently reached down and picked Caroline's body up in my arms, holding her tightly to me as I stared down at the Matriarch one last time and breathed "I am free of you....I am free of my past, I am free of this life...because the life given to me was not my own, nor could ever be. I understand that now." "To live. I have to die." The ground gave away for the last time, a whirlwind of debris and chaos roaring around me as I clutched Caroline's body to me, and disappeared into nothing. When I finally awoke, I did so with a start, heaving for air and grasping at my body. I woke up on the floor of my apartment, the laptop still on. Looking towards the table, I noticed at once that my fox mask was gone, replaced by a rolled out sheet of blueprint paper, frantic, wild drawings plastered all over its surface. Limping over, my head and legs aching as well as my arms, I noticed at once that they were designs for a newer mask, unintelligible words and dimensions laid out along the margins and many aspects of this new mask circled with chicken scratch for details. There was a single word written at the bottom, large and bold, a word Alicia had jokingly called me but...I think I understood now at last how it all fit together. I walked back to my laptop, sitting before it and looking over the folder that was opened. A feeling gripped at my heart then, slowly navigating the section I had opened in my drug-induced mania, my mind scrambled and my body aching. I was right...in the end. There was no life for Rhea Moraine anymore. That woman had been created as a tool for the Blessings....she could be nothing more than that. In order for me to live, I was going to have to die. It was time for a new beginning....a rebirth, a forging of a new path onwards. I would no longer serve Alicia and Carlos as 'Rhea', as a mindless, autonomous murder machine. No...I would serve as family. Family....something I had believed was beyond me but, at long last did the truth stretch out before me. As I looked upon the folder before me...the pictures, documents, everything...the question I had been asking myself five years had finally been answered. Taking a sticky note from nearby my laptop, I wrote 'Ryan Moraine' and the address of the orphanage he was being held in at the bottom, standing and walking over towards the table. A new life meant a new start...new directions though I would continue to serve Los Aztecas...I would for the first time in my life...serve myself. But to no longer be Rhea...I would need another name. A first etching into my being of true uniqueness....a life of my own. I looked down upon the blueprint for the fox mask, at the word etched below. This was the beginning...this was the turning point. It was time to get started. Rhea Moraine is dead. And out of the ashes of her soul, rose R O J A

+1, its just the contradiction as stated above, no radio but phone? I understand the direction but the rules were in place to prevent unrealistic actions during the injured state. We can find the way, but this way isnt it