“Former?” Margaret said this with genuine surprise. Still, she displayed great poise, taking a deep, slow breath before opening her turquoise eyes. “Oh! So we’re taking that route?” she said to herself. “Very well, operative…” Her demeanor suggested little shock but inside she was a peeping kettle. If anything, she was more upset at the informality of how the news was delivered to her. Just a common soldier? Hours ago, she pleaded on behalf of Allure but her attempts to play victim were ineffective. They didn’t trust her, which they were right to. Before she could ponder further about a means to fix this, there was one thing she had to address before proceeding. As a public advocate of personal space, Margaret took a step back, reaching into her purse, pulling out a yardstick from seemingly nowhere. She placed it between them on the wooden floors. “Thank you," she said before turning her back to the soldier. “In Allure, there are territories which abide by the law, others who don’t, a few who instill some practices and sections, though rare, who govern themselves in isolation. Order is maintained out of the fact that opposing factions never collaborate against the state. I had other means of regulating balance but due to unforeseen circumstances, I must play the situation with more finesse. The streets will calm with time and will not exceed its borders due to our presence in the northeast. To maintain the balance on our side, I suggest your planet give no further reasons for uncooperative parties to work together. So no bombs, okay? If your government can do little as that, I can arrange a meeting amongst the most influential citizens of allure who might have answers to our current crisis. Well, those who aren’t tied up for obvious reasons.” An ingenious smile followed her spiel. Shortly after, the towering operative tossed a communication device her way, forcing Margaret to quickly turn around and fumble the device in her grips. "Put that on. It will help us stay in touch. In order to preserve the illusion of your authority, I'll become invisible. That doesn't mean I am gone." Tristian said this, but that illusion was already shattered. Before they could progress further, a ringtone slipped out of her purse, initiating an awkward silence in the room. "Don't be shy. Answer it." he prodded. Margaret rolled her eyes. The cumbersome ornate-handled rotary phone brought out was complimentary to her aesthetic. After pulling out the antenna, the other end of the phone was met with a stern "I'm busy." "Quite sociable are you in times of crisis. I've noticed that. Always in to save that fat ass." "Excuse me?!" Margaret's face turned bitter in disgust. "Cameras are mighty convenient for catching rats. Just make sure I get invited to that little meeting of yours. I have some company myself. They're known here as the Goldman Broth---" [i][b]*Click*[/b][/i] "Something tells me that wasn't a prank call." She needed to hear no more. Fearis Caldwell has been a torn in her side for some time now. He was someone she tried to dispose of in the past but he lived up to his nickname. He really was just a dirty roach. As problematic as he was, she had to involve him even without the dirt he recently gained on her. His knowledge was imperative to Allure's survival. She was worried about her reputation now, however. Her standing among Allureans would falter were they to see her in this weak moment. No qualms existed in her about cooperating but practically wiretapping her colleagues was particularly conflicting. The board she found herself apart of revered betrayal. If they couldn't trust each other, they were no different than the wild cast of powerful gangs and factions spread throughout the city. On top of this, the "Parliament" she led worked more along the lines of state-approved mafia so she could only imagine the fallout of such a revelation. The only position voted on was “Prime Minister” and even then Margaret received this title by suspicious means. With the operative over her shoulder, she sat back on the couch. Call after call was made. It was time to set up the holo chamber. ---- [b]The Pleiades Casino & Resort - Top Floor[/b] A tall man in lavender bathrobes and under saturated blue skin paced up and down the halls of his presidential suite. To say this man was tall was an understatement. It was amazing he never managed to bump his head or clip his razor-sharp ears on any of the sputnik chandeliers. From the suite below, his tantrum was well documented. Coffee tables overturned, glass shattered by the minute, sprinkled along the polyurethane finished floors like patches of light snow and in a span of a few minutes, several doors flung halfway off their hinges. Just when the lanky fellow began to calm, a pair of cerulean eyes crept from a slither in a door he had yet to attack. They watched the lanky individual's arms stretch before his neat black nails dug into his gainsborough grey hair. Figuring it was safe, a middle-aged red-skinned woman scratching her bedhead approached him from the bedroom. “Vileiro, why must you make so much noise this morning,” she said in a heavy alien accent. Her sleep-deprived lids scanned the living room and its destruction through her draping snow blonde hair. “You know, last night was kinky. Ceven was particularly impressed. You definitely learned some new mo---" Her yawn interrupted her speech. A bottle of scotch came crashing over her dome to ensure she didn’t resume her thought, painting the hardwood with a cocktail of liquor and blood. “It's the afternoon you fancy wench!” Vileiro's veiny expression said it all. “Don’t you understand? My flagship location is going down!” “Who is going down on who?” A second individual, a short, muscular, yellow-skinned man with sabbatic goat horns waltzed out the same bedroom in nothing but briefs. A torpedoing iron board greeted him, racketing off the wall beside him as he rolled away. Trying to get up, his stubby hands were doused in the liquids on the floor. Naturally, the weird man sucked on his fingertips like a proud chef. He couldn’t resist the accidental creation of his culture’s version of a bloody mary. He smiled, but after a brief moment of bliss, only then did notice the woman lying unconscious. “What’s the deal, ya bum! Why is Ixxa laid out on the carpet like some newborn baby that can’t help herself?” He raised his finger to lecture but Vileiro closed the distance between them. “Listen here you midget. I have every right to be livid out my goddamn mind." The tall man snatched up Ceven, holding him against a wall by the band of his trousers, stuffing it painfully into his chest with his sharp, oversized knuckles “I’m fucking ruined and it’s all that stupid cats fault!” Every second Ceven’s feet were suspended off the ground, the more his lemony complexion resembled a ripening tomato. The wedgie he endured was so excruciatingly painful he felt his spine buckling. [b][i]*HAWWK...PTUI*[/i][/b] The yellow man spat into the casino owner's eyes with some regurgitated whiskey, promptly smashing his resilient ram-like skull against the blue individual's nose. The almost dwarf met the ground with a loud thump that was drowned out by his attacker’s screams. A lampshade fell over Vileiro’s fairly rectangular-shaped head as he lost his balance, tumbling onto his ass and against a wall. "Get up Ixxa.” Ceven looked at the murder scene disinterred, allowing his back to sink into the love seat. A large screen poked through a crevice in the wall as he scrambled for the remote he just sat on. A news report came on. "No longer in Fortaire: Allure in peril. Will these tumultuous times end any time soon? In what has been the most disastrous day in history, many fear what's next. Many have begun preparations of war, some seek asylum with the hostile alien government. Since her initial broadcast, Prime Minister Ieederen has not been seen. Many believe she is working behind the scenes, while others fear for her safety. Many just want answers from anyone willing to provide them." Ceven grabbed a loose cigar from the floor, sparking it by grating his fingernails. Exhaling slowly, he digested the situation like a dry pill. "You think I'm stupid or something?" he said sternly. Ixxa wouldn't even bother to move out of her own blood puddle. She just laid there, comfortably on her back, hands folded like a psychiatrist's patient gazing at the ceiling with her pulsing pupils. She wasn’t quite off her high lingering from last night but she was attentive enough to sink in the news report. "You know, this quarter of business is going to be really terrible, Ceven.” “Our Casinos attract too many of the black cat's clients. Vileiro doesn't think much of Merse but I've known him much longer. He wouldn’t do something this dumb unless allure was in serious danger. This is all probably apart of some terrible plan that just may work out for us in the end." [b][i]*RING* *RING*[/i][/b] Though probably concussed, Vileiro extended his slender hand over the armrest beside him to grab the phone off the couch cushion. He didn't even bother to remove the shade from his head before answering it. "How do you do? It’s Margaret." The blue tycoon sighed heavily. In a defeated tone, Vileiro spoke from his heart. "Margaret...just what the hell are we going to do?" “Prepare for an all-black holo chamber meeting in approximately an hour. Expect yourself to be accompanied by not just Parliament but the elite. The Senate will meet separately with factions and orgs recognized by the state as in good favor but you? Consider yourself lucky. Your resources and influence put you in a position to help us sort out this mess.” --- [b]Basílica de Nuestra Señora del Pilar - Zaragoza, Aragon[/b] The cathedral's candlelit halls were barren. Everyone was summoned. “Do not grieve, for the joy of Berglund is your strength. At birth, we rid ourselves of worldly vision. A necessary sacrifice, as it is beneficial to our growth. We are a clan of great foresight. Were prepared for such a day.” The Arms of Granite took Samael's sermon in. Had they eyes to see, one could mistake them for praying. A hundred bow-wielding warriors of similar build stood in solidarity, arms locked and cowls draping over their features. “I see unification before me that is unrivaled. Ask yourselves, why has havoc overrun every region but ours? The answer is fear." What earthborn individuals knew as Zaragoza was no man’s land in Allure. No officer patrolled their desolate avenues. No souls but asylum-seeking homeless communed its neighborhoods, yet crime and turmoil were nonexistent. Down its avenues were gothic sculptures of various creatures and abominations in dense population. They were clear warnings to the unjust and unruly. “As each and every one of you shape history, your actions will be recorded by the Garnet.” The Garnet Samael referred to was the colossal, million-gem littered cube of granite behind him. To them, it was all-knowing, all-seeing and all-powerful. With Samael as an interpreter, it even led them through this temporary journey they called life. “With the Garnet's guidance, I have foreseen a meeting of powers. It is time we break our silence. At this moment, we cannot operate in solitary. It threatens our sanctity. We will make our presence clear outside our borders. The Garnet has spoken!" --- Margaret’s eyes burned with intensity in her stare down with the phone. Her grand patience was on display. Expecting a particular call, she knew confrontation was inevitable. Secretaries consulted with less influential parties to make sure her line was clear. While she waited, a kid reminiscent of nineteen-fifties paperboys in blue overalls, a dress shirt and satchel set up a white archway several yards in front of her. “Howard, how long were you in here…" “The whole time, mam,” the boy answered bluntly with a hint of innocent glee. Turning back, he continued preparations for the meeting. Her fist tightened in a fit of light rage but quickly she cooled down, forming a crooked smile on her face despite the thinning of her lips. “I see.” Knowing Margaret as well as he did, the frustration on her face was clear but he knew better than to doubt her. She was certainly plotting. Probably more than she should. Activating the arch, a space null of light opened. One by one, similar-sized white arches opened up in the black space, creating a circle. The meeting wasn't far away.