trans_9 | The City, and Vatican Fortress [Closed to John, Daimon, and Sly Knife]

Entry tags:

The City, and Vatican Fortress [Closed to John, Daimon, and Sly Knife]

After slipping away from everyone else John started to search the ship for some place he could fortify. Eventually he stumbled upon the city. It was perfect for him. The crew would have a hard time finding him here. If they did he'd have the advantage. Walking through the city he searched many of the buildings for something suitable. None of them fit his criteria. That is until he stumbled across something he never expected to see. There was no way it could be real? It was Grand Central Station, and it looked as if it had been moved perfectly brick by brick to here. It was either the real thing or a perfect copy. Stepping inside he found it fairly intact, and well preserved. It was underground, had a large network of maintenance tunnels he could use, and it looked unoccupied. With a bit of work he could have it secure reasonably quickly.

Leaving Grand Central he continued his search through the city just in case a more suitable location presented itself. He so rarely had the luxury of time or choice so he was going to use it while he had it.

He still couldn't believe it. He'd just seen Grand Central Station preserved here, and now the Vatican? Scurrying toward it he noted the obvious fortifications that had been done to the grounds. Signs of battle too, and not that old. Someone had thrown down here big time. That moved it down on the list of possibilities. The fortifications were obvious which means someone else had to notice it. While it would be an advantage in a fight he didn't want them to find him in the first place. Still it was worth looking into. There might be left over supplies inside.

Stepping inside he followed the corridors until he found what probably served as some kind of rally point or command center. The presence of ammo, and food supplies made that clear. After looking around again to confirm his suspicion that the building was indeed empty, he picked up one of the rations. It looked like it was a vacuum sealed version of that slop they served in the mess hall. Not ideal, but it would do. Quickly he started to gather up what he could.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daimon had not lingered at the Obs Deck longer than was necessary. Each time the crowd of people was bigger, and each time he would break into sweats, overcome by a wave of heat and an intense fear, of what he did not know. He had many theories, his favorite was that he was overcome by the many vibrations emanating from the people, but if he were more honest with himself, and if he were more learned in psychology, he would come to a much different conclusion.

And so he retreated to his sanctuary, returned to the work he had invested himself in night and day. Except he found he was not the only one at the Vatican. That in itself was not unusual, what was was where the person had gone.

Grasping his trident firmly in one hand, he stood at the doorway of the room. "Can I help you?" As usual, the Son of Satan's voice held little warmth or inclination that he truly wanted to provide help.

Shit! How the hell did he let someone get the drop on him? John spun around quickly, and put on his best innocent face. If he played this right he hopefully wouldn't have any security breathing down his neck "Sorry I didn't know anyone was here."

Daimon was not easily swayed. "And now you do. You are one of the new arrivals, are you not? Tell me, what are you looking for and why, perhaps I may help you."

"Yeah I am. Was just curious about the place. Not everyday you see something fortified like this." Not every day it was the Vatican either. Hopefully this guy would just buy his bullshit, and not get too curious.

"Indeed. However, you do not seem to be admiring the structure of the fortification or the restorations under way. Instead you are collecting material- to what end?"

Clearly it had been too long since John had been forced to lie his way out of a situation. Well that's what over a decade of war will get you. "These are emergency rations right? I didn't think anyone would mind if I took some just in case something happened. Can't expect to always be able to make it to the mess hall."

"Emergency rations are for the crew during times of emergency. This is not one of those times." Daimon said darkly.

"Did I say I was going to eat any of it now?" Smarting off to this guy might not be the best idea, but John couldn't help himself. People who hoarded supplies for themselves, and never shared weren't exactly popular amongst the Resistance. "They wouldn't do me a whole lot of good if I did. They also wouldn't do me any good if they were here, and I was trapped on the other side of the ship starving to death because we'd been attacked."

Not the best idea at all.

"Perhaps you did not hear my statement. They are for the crew. During times of great need. You clearly have not spoken with the command crew on board this vessel, or you would know that all crew members are given a ring and omnicomms with which to contact others. And even if you were not, if you were trapped you would not remain thus for long enough to starve."

"I thought I was supposed to be part of the crew, or are you telling me I'm not in the club?" Of course John knew about the ring, and the omnicomm. He was planning on making good use of them later to get some other things he wanted. Contacting the command staff was not one of them. "Look I'm not used to relying on systems like that working. Even if they are that good they can still break down. It would just give me a lot of peace of mind to have some rations in case. I wasn't going to take it all. Only enough for two people for a week."

This was in fact the truth. Anymore, and someone would have noticed they were missing.

"Of course you are part of the crew, you insufferable-" He cut himself off and breathed deeply. "They are for the entire crew. However, if it will end your whining you may take your rations- for one week. That is more than enough time." And he just didn't like John.

"Thank you," John said giving Daimon a polite nod. Despite what some might think he did know a few manners, if only to get what he wanted from people. At least he now had some rations. He still needed to find an alternate source though as this guy would probably be keeping an eye out for him now. "I'll just get that packed up, and out of here then."

As soon as he'd turned to do that he spun back around. A question was nagging him, and he had to know. "Do you know what happened here?"

Daimon frowned and leaned against his trident. "Certain individuals felt the need to desecrate this holy city instead of choosing another site to prepare for in cases of emergency. Not too long ago, the crew separated into two groups, one to explore and attempt to unlock the other areas of the ship, the other stayed here and took refuge in case of retaliation. That retaliation came in the form of the undead, all manners of zombies, soulless creatures, what some would call monsters, attacked. The damage you see, when not caused by the initial fortification, is the result of the ensuing fight. Myself and others have worked to restore the Vatican to its proper state."

"Undead? Seriously?" Killer robots he could accept, but zombies were something else entirely. Of course he was also standing the Vatican so anything might be possible. Deep down he still had the hope that he'd just taken too many painkillers, and this was just all some weird dream. "I believe you it's just a bit strange. Do we have to worry about those things coming back?"

He'd prefer it if he could fight one threat at a time.

"I do not know. We have encountered a variety of different enemies. But if I were to choose which to face in our next encounter, I would prefer the undead." They made things simple.

"Why? From what I remember about them from my world's fiction they're harder to kill, they get back up usually, and they make more themselves." Damn hard army to face if he thought about it. Even worse than the machines. At least machines still needed resources. There were supply lines you could cut. Undead though? What were you going to do, kill every human on the planet to prevent them from spreading?

Daimon did something he did not do often. He grinned, and as he grinned the fangs of his teeth became more prominent. "Yes, they would perhaps be hard to kill for you. But not," He thrust three fingers into the air and was immediately bathed in soulfire, a fire which did not consume him or injure him in any way. "For the Son of Satan."

"Oh shit!" John reacted to the fire by taking a step back. Seeing it wasn't spreading he didn't give anymore ground. Having a moment to collect himself he processed what the man had said. "The Son of Satan? Really? What are you doing in the Vatican then? Wouldn't this place be a bit...inhospitable to you?"

John really had no idea. Religion wasn't at the top the list of things his mother taught him. He'd never actually prayed as far as he could remember, but he'd made good use of Christian charity on occasion.

The fire that engulfed Daimon subsided as quickly as it appeared. "I may be the son of Satan but I have renounced my father's ways and have devoted myself to the Lord, to the best of my abilities." His darksoul had a habit of getting in the way.

"Glad to hear it. How's the big guy in the sky feel about it? I'd think he'd be pretty excited about it." It wasn't often that it happened, but this was a moment that John felt completely out of his depth. At least the Son of Satan wasn't pissed at him anymore. All he had to was just keep playing nice, and then he could get out of here with the food.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The City, and Vatican Fortress [Closed to John, Daimon, and Sly Knife]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject