Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Isla dela Fortunae

Tiko

Tiko

Draconic Administrator/Mentor
Administrator
Mentor
Nexus GM
as written by Krysis

The revolution had been months in the making. Well, years, really, but the steadily growing discontent of the people had been manageable until El Presidente Cebrián Arce had purchased, at enormous expense, a tank. An old tank, no longer wanted by the government that had sold and shipped it to an island that was a mere 60 sq. miles.

The debt of the last gilded statue in his honor had not been paid back, despite the back breaking labors of the farmers, the miners, and the hotel staff. Yet he had the audacity to buy an enormous piece of military equipment. One that no one had any idea how to use, and the 'practicing' (playing) with it had caused untold damages to the end of the island where it was stored.

Even the military was pissed. Though General Hernandez had certainly taken his turn to drive the metal monstrosity and to fire the big gun, when he received his tiny paycheck a few days later, he too saw red. That was the beginning of the end for El Presidente Arce.

Even his elite squad of bodyguards, six foreign men with strange weapons from a space-faring race, could not stem the tide. Literally, since the native people from the surrounding sea rose up as well and flooded the palace in revenge for the long oppression of the aquatic race.

Even then, the toll the bodyguards took on the population was steep. Of the approximately 20,000 people on the island, almost 200 lost their lives in the rebellion, including almost all of the soldiers and General Hernandez. The tank was also mostly destroyed, after it ran into the gaudy statue and the last of the shells had taken out the east wing of El Presidente's lavish home.

All of that was yesterday. Today, there is rum and celebrations of the glorious dead. Today, General Hernandez and his brave men are hailed as heroes. Today, the villainous Presidente Arce is in chains, along with his surviving bodyguards. The weeping of the families can come with smiles of joy for the freedom their lives had purchased. Today, the tourists are fleeing in droves, and the hotels are almost empty as boats and planes make for less turbulent islands.

Today, it is time for the people to decide: Who will be the next El Presidente?
 
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as written by Ottoman and Krysis

It was still early in the day, and it was already hot. The beaches sparkled like nothing had happened, and there was only a minor amount of debris in the hushed swells that slid up and down the shore.

On the side of the island where el Presidente had his mansion, it was a different story. Ruined furniture, fallen trees, and bullet strewn corpses were being drawn up on the beach methodically by the exotic folk that lived beneath the waves. Not only out of respect for the fallen and their families, but to keep the debris out of their coral-formed homes a bit further out.

Many businesses were closed in the two towns, but the bars were open. The tourist town was almost empty, the streets echoing with the celebrations and the church bells that were going on in the native area. The few miles of beach, street, crops and jungle between might as well have been a wall. A wall to keep the crazy rebellion away from the tourists that were getting on any transportation they could find, in order to get away.

Somehow or another, Albert wasn't quite certain to begin with but was doubly uncertain now, the Austran had wound up in the thick of the combat of the revolution, and it certainly wasn't what he was looking for. Oh, his superiors had been clear enough in the haphazard briefing they'd given him (which he remembered sounded an awful lot more like a sentencing than a briefing) that his task here, on this world, was a covert, quiet one.

Leading the charge across the grand boulevard wasn't his intention, among a great many other things that weren't, though at least this one he didn't entirely regret - there was no shortage of drinks now, just for that mistake. How was he supposed to know that was the president's palace? It looked like some kind of gaudy train-station, for God's sake.

Of course, people had died following his lead - he refused to think they died because of him, he already had enough deaths on his conscience - but they had taken necessary, vital ground. The ends justified the means, no matter if it was inadvertent.

"... s-so, you know I'm-" The man caught himself mid-sentence, the third time in the last hour, though it was uncertain from what. "... that I'm not, uh... Terran?" It didn't help that he couldn't even remember the nationality that he was meant to pose as, sober or otherwise, as he was now.

"Yeah? So? I mean, if you want us to vilify you as the cause of all our troubles, this can be done. 'Course, in the process, there might be some unpleasantness. Maybe it is better to not protest too much, eh?" The beefy hand of Albert's erstwhile second-in-command accompanied a loud and somehow pleasant laugh. Like many on the island, Jacobo Ortiz embraced life wholeheartedly, and his joy was for all to see and hear.

In the events previous, Jacobo had been the one that had waved for his squad of farmers, armed with antiques and tools, to follow the uptight foreigner. Sure they had not known he was trying to get away. El President's mansion was an unlikely direction to choose. At the time, the main focus of the fighting had moved to the docks behind the mansion, where the aquatic people had been flooding and draining to the point of making a whirlpool in the sheltered cove there. It kept the last of Arce's bodyguards from being able to escape on boats that had become kindling.

Siemens had, unintentionally, claimed the foyer with Jacobo and his men, just in time to keep Arce from fleeing into the streets and hiding out somewhere on the island. Of course, in the process, many of the farmers had died. Of the untrained squad of rebels, only a handful made it to the bar to drink with their new friend, and celebrate the victory.

"Je-te... I'm not protestin'-... I just wanted to know." He managed, blinking a few more times than was necessary as he looked to Ortiz, then to the rest of the farmers.

"Relax, cuz. We know you're from way off. Your clothes, they stink. You let Jacobo fix your wardrobe, eh? Then again, maybe you don't want to look too good, huh? The women, ai-yi-yi." Jacobo rolled his eyes and clutched his chest like he was about to suffer a heart attack.

"You look good, you get married, and then she's got you forever." replied one of the younger ones, fiddling with the plain gold band on his finger as if he regretted it.

"How I know! Even I've got a wife! And look where I am, huh?" Jacobo winked at the boy, and then grinned at Albert.

The lantern-jawed and morose fellow at the end gave a hollow-eyed look, "You could always hook up with the scalemates instead." He paused to spit into the sandy margins of the beach bar, as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth. "No decent woman will have you after that."

Half the men exchanged uneasy looks. After all, the merfolk had been their allies in the battle. Was it right to use such a derogatory term for them so soon after lives had been lost?

Albert himself was still struggling to understand how this aquatic, quasi-humanoid race was able to share the area with the more traditional humans, and even moreso now that his mind was swimming with the effects of rum. "M-marriage ain't so bad, y'know. You just have to choose the righte one-..." Though that, in and of itself, was a crusade.

The Austran looked to the man on the end, blinking still far more than he should. "... why not?"

"Because they are unnatural she-devils, that's why." The man at the end narrowed his eyes at Albert as if angry at being questioned.

Jacobo waved his big hands as if shooing away a bad smell, "They aren't as bad as all that! Half the women you talk to might be-- you know. They have the same problem we do, see? Not enough men to go around."

The unpleasant demeanor of the grumpy man was lost on the foreigner, not perturbed or intimidated in the slightest. She-devils - any woman could earn that label, fish-person or not. Instead the officer looked back to Jacobo, nodding a few moments after he finished as he realized what the other said.

"I see. I, uh, I need a job before I can think about... women."

"A job? What kind of job do you want? I think anything you want to do would be available at the moment." Jacobo grinned despite the sadness in his eyes, "Especially if you want to get into the government. We seem to have none at all at the moment!"

"... I want a job, Jacobo, not respondstibilities." Albert replied, nonchalant. Of course, the thought did linger in his mind - he could become a part of the government here, wouldn't that help further his goals, his objectives? Whenever his comrades came - if they ever came - he'd likely get a commendation... Hell, God willing, he might even be knighted.

"B-but, maybe, that isn't such a bad line of work."

"Seriously, cuz? It'd be bad now. No money left, because Arse spent it all on crap that got wrecked in the fighting. Wasn't much good, see?" Jacobo frowned in concern. Of course, if Albert Wanted to run for President, he had five votes for him sitting right there.

"And the shadow lords didn't get involved. The ones that put Arce in position in the first place. That means they are still out there, waiting to pick or put a finger on our next Presidente." The young guy added with a worried tone.

"... we're all pretty sharp guys, I'm sure we can think of some way to make money." The man avoided the term earn, knowing full-well this was the sort of place where honest work wasn't always entirely honest, and if you bothered with honest work, you'd stick where you were. "... shadow lords?" Albert managed, uncertain.

What in Kampf's name was a Shadow Lord? This sounded like the Wochenschau all of a sudden.

The man on the end laughed and shook his head, "He means the drug lords. The ones that want us to grow more 'sugar' and not look too close at it."

Jacobo waved that off as well, "We're just simple farmers. We grow honest crops. Bananas, coffee, coco and, yes, sugar. Anyone that says otherwise is welcome to inspect my fields."

"Plenty of fields that will need more tending after today. I was thinking of hiring some fi-- Some of our new allies to help. All of the Hernadezs are gone, and the Bustos were hurt bad." one of the previously silent men spoke up, then drained his glass and gestured to the bar tender for a refill.

Oh, so they were just people then - no sort of demonic or shady entities that their names belied. Albert's concern seemed to bleed away at that revelation, no longer half as worried as he had been. "Of course, Jacobo. I'd never imply otherwise, though..." The other man's words lingered in his ear, Albert's drunken mind's gears turning slowly, but turning all the same.

"... that is a thought." Which lead to another, one that he kept to himself for a few moments before beginning to broach, wanting to make sure he had his words straight. "Gentelmens, if I may share an idea?" He knew he was a foreigner here but, perhaps he was onto something.

"President Arse is ousted, long may he rot, but the island has suffered terribly in this ven-... venture." Siemens blinked at that, having been staring at the table, soon looking to his comrades. "... many are dead, families mourn. It is a trying time. There might be some who no longer have the capability - or desire - to keep running their businesses. This is a time for ac... ac-... ac-qui-si-tion."
 
as written by Emperor Jester

A man who'd been watching the scene with keen interest up until that point coughed into his hand politely. He wore a somewhat stained, but clean-pressed, short-sleeved black chef's coat, his hair tied back in a short tail. A quick drain on the mug in his opposite hand before another cough. His accent obviously marked Helio's heritage as something other than a native, as did his somewhat paler skin and striking viridian eyes.

"Government work right now isn't actually too bad an idea. Right now is the time for reformations, and when there's hardly anyone to oppose you, getting what you want to change wouldn't be hard." A look into his drink. Almost empty. He'd have to order another soon.

Those are the 'party' might know him. The youth-approaching-middle aged man worked as a clerk in one of the islands hotels, as well as line cook in a restaurant or two. Some may even have seen him throw a Molotov or two during the fighter, though those would be few and far between. One person at least had seen him beat a Loyalist to death with a pair of spiked brass knuckles in an elevator when a gun wall pulled. Most though knew Helios as an information broker, a man who traded secrets and locations for the right cash, or protection.

"Of course, the farming isn't a bad idea either. People always need food, especially now. The fighting is done, but the turmoil is just starting. If things really go belly up after all this, food could become scarce. Could pick up the arms trade. I know the location of a safe house or two, absolutely filled to the brim with fire arms and the like. The kitchen I work in needs a few new hands to."

A grin so sharp it could cut iron like butter. "I could put in a good word for a few of you at the hotel too, if you can deal with tourists."
 
as written by Ottoman

Glad for someone to back up his point - not that he thought his comrades from the revolt would think less of him for pursuing such lines of thought - Albert turned to the newcomer with a smile. "See, someone else gets it." The Austran nodded encouragingly to this young man, the other having picked up well enough on his own hints concerning the farms, though he wondered if the others understood that he suggested becoming property magnates... if they could manage such a thing. If there was any time to get into that business, it was now.

"Come, friend," Albert offered, beckoning this stranger come closer, the repetition of the gesture grossly increased thanks to his drink. "I'm Alb-... Albert, but it seems like everyone here is a bit more keen on calling me Al." The officer offered a hand to this newcomer, to shake in greeting. "A pleasure."
 
as written by Emperor Jester and Ottoman

He'd pick up his stool and drag it over, making sure not to leave his tropical beverage behind, that wild smile calming slowly in the face of what seemed to be acceptance. Unlike most of the natives, Helio had no distrust of foreigners, and even made a career, or two rather, out of dealing with them. The hospitality industry let him shake hands with main-landers and off-worlders alike before.

"Call me Helio!" The man would exclaim gladly, planting his seat within arm's reach to return the shake with an eager yet casual grip. "And I do get it. There are a lot of opportunities right now, if people aren't scared to take them. Especially if they have the ability." The coy way he talked seemed to put a lantern-jawed onlooker on alert and stir the sleep from a man passing out close by, lighting a suspicious fire in their eyes.

A long sip from his beverage, the rum, coconut, and mango liquor blending perfectly with the crushed ice and carbonated water. A bubbly, fizzy, frozen drink, with a hell of a kick. As he'd talk, only now, the slightest of inebriated blushes would creep onto Helio's fair skin. "You mentioned government a minute ago. Did you have any plans, Albert?"

____

Indeed, though that was the problem, wasn't it? Ability - Albert was short on both money, of the local flavor at least, and capital in this place, and so his ability likely wasn't the best, at least in the strictly legal sense. Though if he and some others were willing to put some elbow-grease into it, they might manage a little bit more than they would by earnest means. Albert regarded Helio with a curious look as he reset himself on his own stool, stretching slightly to let the tension out of his back. Were it that he was completely in control of his senses, the Austran might be suspicious as well, but for now he gave Helio the benefit of the doubt.

"I... don't know if it's a plan, but it is an idea." Al managed, moving to take another sip of his own beverage, having long thrown caution to the wind in regards to his inebriation - it wasn't like there was a helicopter around for him to pilot. "With the passing of the late general - God save his soul - I think I am the only professionally educated officer on the island." He waited a few moments to let that statement sink in, to whatever effect, spinning the straw about in his glass as he did, debating himself on waving down the bartender for another such drink.

"Fortunae is facing a dark time ahead. We should... be able to protect ourselves, shouldn't we?"

____

His eyes would narrow slowly, turning upwards around the corners, like he was evaluating his conversation partner. Appraising him. "I see. I had no clue you were a military man. That is a good thing for me to know." His own glass empty, Helio would place it on the table with an appropriate tip underneath for whatever server or busboy happened to be cleaning after this celebration.

"Protect ourselves from who? Certainly outside sources will be looking to this island. Some might want it as a staging ground. Others might look at it like some sort of tropical paradise they can escape to, wanting to gobble it all up. I think what we need to worry about most though is protecting our home from ourselves. There's a huge power vacuum now...The infighting will start sooner or later. We're all happy and unified now, but it won't last."

A shrug before crossing his arms, one hand getting tucked away inside his chef's coat. "I could be wrong though. The fun times could last forever, the rum could keep flowing, and the joyous ride might not come to a halt. But I don't like to deal with ifs. We need something solid everyone can flock to, willingly, for support."

____

Albert smiled, dressed in plain clothes as he was it was likely harder to spot, though were it that he went back to his hotel room and changed into his proper dress then it would be clear enough. "Well, at least I have that going for me." He murmured, glad that people weren't always seeing him as a martial automaton, even if they did see him as a foreigner. Perhaps, were it he spent enough time here - started learning the language properly, dressing and looking the local, people might not even look twice at him on the street.

"Enemies, of course, Helio, in whatever shape or form." Foreign or domestic, as the old saying went. Whether it was riots from food shortages or power-grabs and putsches, the in-fighting was coming, Helio was right. Albert had paid particular attention in history class, especially of classical Scatter - places like Fortunae were quite common in the era of Nation-States. "The mil-tary and the police should be the shield of the people, the cliff against which the tide breaks... but we need to be ready." Needless to say, they weren't ready now.

Perhaps that meant organizing an interim militia, or doing their best to reform what was left of the current military.

"... who would you suggest? You know this place far better than I."

____

"I'm afraid any suggestion I might have won't be taken seriously, at least not by the locals. Despite living here my whole life, going to school with their kids, dating their daughters, serving them food, fighting in their way, I'm an outsider. Which is fine with me, really. My kids will be accepted when they're born, if they're born on the island, and that's what really matters to me."

A bit of a pause, to stop and examine the bottom of his glass one more time, taking one of the marks out from under the cup. Without a constantly flow of alcohol into his system, Helio tended to sober up rather quick. That's what happened when you started drinking island moonshine at twelve years old.

"Speaking of, would any of you fine comrades happen to have single daughters?"
 
as written by Krysis, Ottoman, and Emperor Jester

Sergio, the younger man that was worried about his wife, finished his drink before telling the others, "Almost all the military personnel were wiped out in the struggle. Or wounded. Even the reservists, like Pappy."

Jose, the farmer that was thinking of hiring more people to take care of the lands bordering his own, shrugged, "The police didn't fare much better. When the rebels opened the jail, they say the chief got his head bashed in with a rock."

The farmers were silent for a moment, thinking of this, as Helio changed the subject.

Jacobo gaped at Helio, then gave a braying laugh that sounded a bit nervous.

The lantern-jawed Ángel continued to eye the young man suspiciously, but Anselmo fell off his stool and cussed at his luck before glaring at Helio, "Fuck no, man. My daughters are too young for the likes of you."

____

Well, that was just the sort of thing that the Austran didn't want to hear. Didn't take him seriously? The man had lived here his entire life, he was, as far as Albert was concerned, a local, born and bred. What part of this Fortunaen culture insisted on such a backwards mode of thinking? Perhaps a career in the government might not be the best choice, if he weren't going to be taken seriously in his role. But then, the man had to consider his assignment, and the government was likely the best place to carry out his task.

"I fear I never married, Helio." Hence, no children, at least no children that he knew of. A brief, drunken pang of worry flashed over him before he dismissed it, recalling easily enough that he and his partners had taken every precaution they could.

But that side comment - about the police - gave Siemens another idea. Perhaps there might be room for a merger, unheard of in his homeland, but this might be just the place for it. "Hm." He murmured, letting the idea stew in his mind before he voiced even a hint of it, afraid that the drink might be leading him on here.

____

"I'm not getting any younger. Might as well start looking for a girl to settle down with." At least for a night or two. Twenty-eight years young. Plenty of time to continue sowing his wild oats before looking for anything serious. At least another two years, minimum. The confused look in the outsider's eyes when Helio brought up certain customs wasn't missed by the line cook, but he'd say nothing for now, instead reaching into his pockets to produce a pack of re-rolled cigarettes, smacking the bottom of the pack against his palm before flicking one onto his lips. Once lit, it was obvious by the skunky smell it wasn't tobacco in those dried out papers.

"Don't be that way, amigo. If they're out of schooling, they're old enough to live their lives, party it up. Especially now. Might as well let them enjoy the good times while they last."

Those damning green eyes would swivel around to fix Anselmo with a piercing, jubilant gaze. "Besides, the likes of me aren't bad. A lot of them could do a helluva lot worse on this little Isla, no?"

____

Anselmo tried to struggle up from the floor, where he had found himself sitting rather abruptly mere seconds before. He was sputtering incoherent threats as he was both aided and impeded by Jacobo.

Ángel smirked and folded his arms as he leaned back to watch the struggle to get the drunkard on his feet and away from Helio at the same time. The grumpy older farmer seemed more amused than alarmed.

Sergio jumped up and hovered indecisively around the two men, and soon staggered back with a hand to his face after catching a stray elbow there. Then the younger man lost his temper and started dragging Jacobo and Anselmo further away, displaying the strength that had saved the five friends the night before.

Jose pulled off his ball cap and scratched his scalp before giving Helio a scornful look. "You know very well what troubles that man has faced with his daughters already. Our faith frowns on unwed mothers, but more on the murder of infants."

Ángel gave an impatient snort, then looked at Albert steadily. The subject of women could not hold his attention for long. "You see what is going on here already. We need police and someone to lead them. I have fields to tend or I'd take charge myself."

____

Albert did his best to give the small row that had developed between his drinking companions some space, not wanting to get involved in something he had no investment in - or at least had nothing to gain by getting invested. The Austran did look to Ángel when he spoke, nodding in response initially to his statement, though Albert too did speak, soon enough. "That we do. As Helio stated before... now is the time for reformations. We do not want to simply rebuild the old system, and let the same plaque b-... befall us." Us, the way he used that word almost made it sound like he wanted to stay.

Perhaps he did, on some level, even if all he had seen so far was a revolution and free drinks.

"We need a strong check on whoever is in power." Something to keep the Presidente, for surely there would be another one, in line. "... I don't know police work that well, but I do know a thing or two about marital organs." The officer seemed not to notice how he mixed words, and looked to his companions for their opinions on his unstated question. Would he make a decent model to reform Fortunate's military around?

____

"I think we'd take whatever help we can get at this point, Albert. I can't volunteer myself, I'm already far too busy." A dismissive batting of the eyelids at the scene that took place after his callous, inconsiderate words. It was clear that Helio didn't care whose feathers he ruffled tonight, as long as it amused him. A small part of him knew the comment had been out of line, but all the while, Helio liked to think he'd earned the right to jab and jape at the farmers, the natives as a whole.

He'd been putting up with their shit since he was born, due only to the color of his skin, and more so, his eyes.

"If you have a system you're thinking about, I'd be dying to hear it. The old cops were far too corrupt if you ask me, too easy to bribe. I think it'd be best for Fortunae if we hired in some people with sturdier wills." Of course, the broker intended to buddy up to all the cops, the old and the new, despite any new mental fortitude or disdain for notes they might have. It was better for the island, in the end, if even the line cook / clerk wasn't entirely safe from the justice system.
 
as written by barney_fife

A beach bar sounded like the perfect place to unwind after the long trip concealed within a shipping container. Marlene hated going through such extreme lengths to keep her movements concealed. But she understood their necessity to get out of TNG Controlled territory.

A Cash payment at a nice tourist condo in Fortunae Minor under a false name, a long hot shower, and a change of clothes later. Marlene Angel found herself standing on the street in front of a beach bar between the two major settlements on this island nation. It was recommended by several locals as a place to have a drink and lay low.

She brought her hand up to her brow, to push a few locks of hair out of her face, before pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. She liked it here, the blue sunny skies and the warm temperature was a welcome contrast to the cold, dreary atmosphere of Van Leugen, or the bright yet cold of Caprica City.

Here Marlene could dress comfortably, a white tank top and a pair of short-shorts that left little to the imagination, along with a pair of flip-flop sandals, and a large designer purse. A Large designer purse that could be used to conceal her various IIA Accoutrements, and a personal defense weapon, specifically the type 10 compact frame disruptor.

Putting out her arm, she opened the door to the bar, and she stepped inside. The smells of beer, cooking food, and the general flavor embraced her.

Her eyes went first to the group of locals scuffling in the bar, before they went up to the bar itself. It appeared some fellow foreigners were seated there, at least one of them.

Slowly, and with almost cat-like precision she slid onto the barstool besides Helio, eyes first on the man next to him, and then upon the Austran, before she looked up at the bartender.

"Gin and tonic, throw a little extra on the pour." She said, tossing a few local banknotes to cover the tab, along with a pair of gold coins onto the bar counter as a little extra. Each coin was rectangular in shape, with the corners cut to give it an elongated octagonal appearance. The symbol of the Imperial Province of Caprica could be seen on the obverse side, with the seal of the Aschen Empire on the reverse.

The coins were more to garner the attention of the Austran in the room, than anyone else. Slowly she turned to Helio, and gave him a wink as the Bartender poured her drink.

"I think i'm going to like it here." She said quietly to herself. The line had been cast, now to see who bit.
 
as written by Krysis

Ángel Roberto Zamorano was soon the last of the five rebel/farmers left. As the rest left with Anselmo, to see the very drunk man safely home to his harpy of a wife, three daughters, and two grandchildren, the bitter older man picked up his drink and moved to the seat that Jacobo had recently occupied.

"I'm sure you know plenty about marital organs. Were this a less serious time, there are many that would ply you with rum for as many stories of space poontang as you could tell." Ángel smirked at the younger men before finishing off his drink and giving a peremptory gesture to demand a refill. The bartender was rather shy about serving them this morning, only darting up when summoned and then hiding towards the back of the space to clean already spotless glasses.

"Never mind that. There is nothing wrong with democracy. The problem we have at this particular moment," he emphasized his words with a sloshing of his fresh drink back and forth before taking a hard swallow. "is that there is no one suited to lead and arrange for a vote. General Hernandez would have been the natural leader if he survived, but not even any of the officers made it. I think the highest ranked people left are the owner of the newspaper, and the mayor of Fortunae Minor--"

Then he was staring incredulously at the blonde that just sauntered in and sat with them, despite the emptiness of the rest of the bar. The lantern-jawed Hispanic male snorted into his drink a moment later, muttering "More foreigners than native borne left on this rock."
 
as written by Ottoman

Far too busy? At least Helio was fortunate enough to have something to do, somewhere to go. Albert was left alone and, he suspected, forgotten on this little corner of Valore, but hope springs eternal and so the young Austran would still fight to see his task carried out. "... a merger." He murmured, after a sigh crossed his lips, born of worry and doubt. "Between the military... and police, unify them under one command and organizational strukure." It was a simple matter of efficiency, and the island honestly didn't warrant a standing, active army. A battalion or two, at the absolute most, from what he recalled of its size and infrastructure from the 'briefing'.

The matter of mettle was something that he had yet to give consideration to yet - was service to one's homeland here not respected? The thought perturbed him thoroughly, though not quite so thoroughly as the words 'space poontang'. A very confused, and very flushed, Albert glanced to Ángel as he silently asked him where the fuck that came from until the local stopped mid-sentence, the Austran taking a moment to realize that the native was looking at something on the other side of him, and so turned to follow his gaze. A woman? Albert shrugged, an expression more meant to be kept to himself than actually carried out, a bit too far gone to notice the clink of coin - a noise that, even then, was as foreign and pointless to him as a dollar bill in a vending machine would be to a Phoenician.

"Ángel," Albert started, holding in a belch for a moment or two, letting his body still itself as he took his eyes off of Marlene and looked back to the native, wearing an earnest, if confused, look. "... what's this democrazy thing? I've heard everyone talking about it since I got here, but no one's... really... explained it."
 
as written by Emperor Jester

Helio was momentarily distracted by the blond who had entered, giving a fair bit of attention to the excessive amount of legs the woman was showing off before his attention was brought back to the conversation. He'd caught the wink and couldn't help but send one back Marlene's way. "Democracy is a system that runs on elected officials chosen by the people. Lots of civil rights and political freedoms, or a lack of them, depending on which history you like to follow. Some cultures thrive on it, honestly. Others, not so much. One of its major cons is that it can put the power in the hands of civilians, letting them pick how their government is run, and who it is run by, even if they're uneducated or ignorant, or stuck in the past."

Helio would kick his feet up on another nearby, now empty, chair, beginning to unbutton his chef's coat. It had begun to get a little more humid all of a sudden, and it felt like the breeze might be dying down. Which was a shame. And his drink was still empty. While waiting for responses, he'd do his best to flag down a waiter and bar-maid.
 
as written by barney_fife

"Democracy." The woman spat, as she sloshed her own drink within her hand, taking a sip of the ice cold alcohol, she set the glass down with an audible clunk, before she swiveled slightly on her barstool.

"Democracy breeds corruption." She said aloud, before she fished around in her purse. It was around here somewhere she thought. A few moments of fishing around her purse produced a small paperback book.

'The Theory and Practice of Imperial Oligarchical Collectivism. By Isambard Prince.'

"The solution to Democracy and the corruption it breeds." She said, sliding the book over towards the three seated besides her. She then turned to answer Albert's question regarding democracy.

"Democracy is where the people dictate the will of the state, and leaves a wide margin for abuse. I believe the state should have a strong central authority, taking care of the needs of the people. That book; you may have it. You might need it to rebuild your government stronger than before." She said, eyes watching Helio as he put his feet up, before she turned to Albert.

"You there, you're not from around here are you?" Marlene asked. "Your accent, where are you from?" She asked, flagging the Bartender down for another drink.

"I'm Emma by the way." She said, finishing her first drink. "Emma Ángelos." She said, using a fake first name and Tauronizing her last name. "Former special Attache to Siress Asha Janik. Someone none of you have probably ever heard of. Anyways, what's a girl gotta do to have some fun around this dump of an island?"
 
as written by Krysis

Ángel Zamorano explained, when asked, while the woman was fishing around in her purse. With a passionate light in his old eyes, and tight, control movements of his work hardened hands, "Democracy is the will of the free people, the right of those people to choose their leader. The people maybe be fooled, yes, this is true, but what alternatives are there? A hereditary ruler, mad from inbreeding? A dictator that takes power and keeps it for his own ends, without caring if his people starve or are worked to death? There are dangers to democracy, just as there is to any idea, yes. However, if you must trust Someone to make the big decisions, shouldn't you choose that person yourself, instead of having fate or chance choose him, or her, for you?"

When 'Emma' started pushing her ideas, rather aggressively it seemed to him, he slammed his hands on the bar and rose from his seat to glare at the blonde, "And, Ms. Ángelos, what would your people do, if some tourist woman walked into a neighborhood bar and spat on your system of government, eh? Maybe drag her out into the street and shoot her?" He shook his head and made a sharp gesture of denial.

"No. I recognize that money. Aschen." He paused to spit as if the name tasted foul.

"If I should walk down the street in any of their cities and not speak a word, the rumors of what would be done to a peaceful visitor-- Maybe you should be more grateful to us for being more tolerant. Here, first, we ask you to respect our customs, even if you disagree." Zamorano finished his drink then and threw some local money on the bar.
 
as written by glmstr

As if on cue, a car of some sort could be seen pulling up outside the bar. Through the glass door, if one looked, the vehicle was a foreign sports car, with its windows tinted as so none of the occupants could be seen. A man in a suit stepped out of the drivers side and quickly opened the door behind him. A very pale-skinned woman got out of the car, wearing designer jeans and a long-sleeved shirt the same color as her hair: a deep navy blue. A burly tattooed man also stepped out of the car, but she seemed to wave him off and gesture towards the door. He nodded and stood outside the door, propped up against the wall.

The woman made her way to the door, and entered the bar alone. Slung over her shoulder was a medium-sized purse, but otherwise she was not carrying anything nor did she seem to intend to make a scene (at first).

"...what would your people do, if some tourist woman walked into a neighborhood bar and spat on your system of government, eh? Maybe drag her out into the street and shoot her?"

"Now now, who's being dragged out into the street and shot?" The new patron had a noticeable accent, Lutetian with the edge taken off by a bit of Fortunaen. "Of course, if they deserve it, then it's a different story."

Those that have seen or heard much about the less-than-reputable side of Fortunae would recognize the woman as 'Luci' Lacroix, a foreign girl that moved to the island a few years ago. As the fiancee of a major kingpin in one of the local cartels, she quickly became infamous for being just as cutthroat as her husband-to-be, if not even more so.
 
as written by Ottoman

The Austran man did his best to keep up with all that was happening, another absent-minded sip of his drink spilling just a hint onto the loose-fitting, cotton shirt he wore, the conflicting and, at times, coinciding definitions of democrazy proving to be a little too much for him. Judging from what he heard, and no doubt even less that he would remember by tomorrow, democracy was a system based on electric officials, with a heavy focus on critical and social freedoms, that was highly susceptible to corrosion even if it was on the bill of the people. "Well Ángel," Albert managed after quiet consideration of this democrazy thing for a few moments, doing his best to formulate an objective opinion. "I suppose it is better for the customer to choose how they get their power - solar might not work that well in a cold, cloudy place..." But he had never heard of people choosing how to get their own power before - electricity and its distribution was something handled by the state, or at least the Syndicate, where he came from. What small benefits the system might have provided were offset, in his mind, by everyone choosing their own particular manner of power production, and so Albert found the system to be, at its core, inefficient.

And that was, perhaps, the most grave insult any Austran could give.

But the man kept that opinion to himself, not wanting to alienate his new friends, or these odd newcomers. As if on cue that blonde woman asked where he was from, the man glancing over to her with as thoughtful a look as someone so inebriated could manage. Was he still pulling off this Terran thing? It was worth a shot. "Darmstadt, just outside Pembroke." The unspoken addition was 'Terra', though he figured that was obvious. Of course now someone else had to start speaking, and Albert silently longed for when things were more simple, and he was just discussing his favorite drinks with the men he had stormed the palace with, the Austran glancing over his shoulder to the blue-haired newcomer. A momentary stare of disbelief, followed by a lengthy sigh, was all that she drew out of him, the Scatterran turning back around to stare into his drink.

Maybe he should try at least to see the island he was living on now - apparently it was a beautiful sort of place - instead of linger in this bar with, apparently, everyone on the island stepping in to give their two pfennigs.
 
as written by barney_fife

Marlene frowned slightly, the book sat there on the bar, there for people to consider as she crossed her legs, one over the other. She swiveled slightly on the barstool to face Ángel more fully.

"What would my people do if some woman walked into a bar and started contradicting ideals." She said, pausing as she cleared her throat, and then downed the remainder of her drink. "We don't get many visitors where I come from." She admitted. "But they'd hardly be dragged out and shot." She said, picking up one of the gold aureus coins, inspecting it intently.

"Depends on what exactly was said really... the rule of law is very complex." She said, sliding out from her barstool, and approaching Ángel to wrap an arm around him and pull herself close, almost slithering into his lap, her voice lowering an octave.

"The Aschen aren't as barbaric as you think." She said, slipping the Aureus coin into his front pocket and a very not-so-subtle hint, before sliding off and away from Ángel, towards Albert.

She made it a point to ignore the newcomer for now it seemed, offering the Lutetian woman little more than a brief dirty look. "So you're from Terra, just lovely. Here to spread your ideals to these fair people?" She said, before she flagged the bartender back down.

"Another scotch on the rocks." She said, moving back to her original spot, her hand remained in her purse, fishing around for something else, while her drink was prepared.
 
as written by Krysis

Marlene was not allowed to escape so easily. First, Zamorano's rough hand, powerful from decades of hard labor, captured her waist when she decided to up the ante on the encounter to physical contact. Since Ángel had still been standing after putting his money on the bar, he had no lap to sit on, but that made it easier to catch her against the bar instead, and grip her forearm when she reached for his pocket. She was not allowed to put the coin in his pocket, even if he had to bruise her to prevent it.

He growled in her ear while she was close, "You are no more an angel than I am, though we both bear that name. Why don't you just enjoy your vacation, eh? We don't need the help of some flashy space demons, so just relax."

Only after he had his say did he let 'Emma Ángelos' go, with a little shove to make sure she did not think she was being invited to go with him. The older farmer turned then to stalk out of the bar.

Not that he got far. Outside, a stylish younger woman in a red sundress and sunglasses stopped him. Even after traveling for days and meeting with God knows how many people in various nations, Soledad still looked fresh and vibrant, like a rain-washed hibiscus flower.

She pointed at the bar, her fashionably long and decorated nails flashing red and gold in the tropical sunlight. She seemed to be not caring who saw her, too proud and elegant to let even the debris of the previous night's work slow her down. Her smooth black hair was loose and flowed to her hips as she concluded her conversation with the farmer, who had turned respectful to the former first lady and nodded in agreement as he also pointed at the bar.

While this drama was visible from the inside, it was not audible.
 
as written by glmstr

"You better watch your tongue," Lucille's face twisted into a scowl. The Lutetian's hand gingerly picked up Marlene's drink, eyeing it for a few seconds before throwing it fastball into a nearby wall, the glass shattering upon impact and the liquor splashing onto the walls and floor.

"You better lose the fuckin' attitude, or else you might find your head on a pike. It'd look great mounted on my wall," Luci growled, reaching into her purse to grab some coins to place on the counter, her hand brushing past the submachine gun sitting idly inside.

"For the glass and the mess," she placed the coins on the bar counter.
 
as written by Ottoman

Albert hadn't been far from responding to this 'Aschen' woman when Angel made his move, the Leutnant's mind already moving through the situation in his head, trying to think of a way that this could end pleasantly. He was honestly thinking of staying until the glass shattered on the wall, thrown by the other unpleasant addition to the conversation, and no sooner had the words 'head' and 'pike' had found their way into the same sentence did Siemens find himself unassing the AO. Stumble though he might, the man made good time getting out from in between those women and into the sun, the Austran paying little heed to the woman who spoke now to Zamorano as he figured it was some relation, or another of that blue-haired girl's ilk. Without a second thought he moved to pass them, trying to right himself as his pace wobbled, already trying his best to think where he might find some food to liberate.
 
as written by barney_fife

Marlene slowly rubbed her wrist where the large farmer grabbed her, massaging the area for a moment as she stalked towards her original spot.

But the de-escalation of the situation was quite short lived. As Marlene moved towards her seat, she stopped several feet short as Lucille had picked her drink up.

"You better lose the fuckin' attitude, or else you might find your head on a pike. It'd look great mounted on my wall,"

The words managed to elicit a snide chuckle from the blonde, as she brought her arm up to cover her laugh. It seemed the other little lady wanted to play. Well, the IIA Agent was happy to oblige, finding it rather pointed to show this woman her place.

She reached out and grabbed her purse, saying nothing in response for a moment, and acting like she was turning to leave, but not before she pulled out a large metallic bracer, and what looked some kind of remote control, and then began to fasten it to her left arm as she stared at Luci. "I've tortured and killed people a lot more dangerous than you could ever hope to be." She said, tightening the fasteners, and looping a strap around her palm and index finger.

"You'll just be another notch in my belt." She growled, as she kept her eyes on Lucille. Backing off three or four steps, and changing her stance to a readied stance. Her feet were shoulder width apart, and her body was turned at a slight angle, with her left side facing Lucille. Her left arm was also held out in front and across, like she was holding a shield of some kind. Her right side was faced away from Lucille, with her right hand holding the remote like device down but at the ready. Her thumb also moved across one of the buttons, and the device let out an audible whine.

This was the standard trained stance an IIA Agent was to take prior to utilizing the Aegis Weapon Combat technique, balancing personal aegis with a small arms of some kind. This was textbook Aschen Intelligence and police training. All of this happened in the span of seconds.

"So what's it going to be little girl, going to mount my head on a pike? Or you going to fuck off?" She said, her voice low, provocative.
 
as written by Emperor Jester

Helio watched the scene very curiously, but above all, very cautiously. Some one like the line cook who made frequent forays into the underbelly of Fortunae for some quick cash and the thrill of it knew of Lucille, but this new woman was strange, dangerous, had his nerves on end, despite the obvious physical allure. He couldn't quite remember if he'd ever met the Lady of the Cartel before, but all the same, he'd address her as he slowly rose from his seat.

"I have to get back to my cafe. Break is almost over, but I think you should let this once drop, girl."

Despite her reputation on the island, Helio had absolutely no reason to fear Lucille. Nor would he, especially when a potentially stronger foe appeared before him, out of the air it seemed. The woman known as Angel would require further study.

"Don't know what you brought to this bar beyond hot hotheadedness, but if this woman is Aschen like the rest of the people here suspect, you should know full well what the Empire does to those who inconvenience them, especially aliens like us. No offense of course. There is something to be admired in a mentality that unleashes world level holocausts over petty feuds and cross words. I for one, do not want that to happen to the island. My home."

Several fingers ran through his hair, as much as they could with it being tied back at least, before grabbing an abandoned drink or two, starting to move towards the door after Albert. "I have work to do. Tell your husband I look forward to do more business with him in the future Lucille. It's been far too long. And enjoy your stay on the island, Miss. I hope you find the relaxation you were looking for. Stop by Rosa de Humo if you want some of the best food on the island."

Then, before either of them could respond, or shoot in the worst case, Helio would escape the bar through an open window, several beverages clinking and splashing against his chef coat as he clutched them to his chest.
 
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