pandemonium.

[Aurelia Courville]

he smokes a little; she drinks a little
and together they're both an addiction begging for a break.
tell me your world's not the world we see.
you can fuck your destiny if you play that card.



pandemonium.


"Are you ready? It’s alright. You must be tired of this, right?"

[Aurelia Courville]

breakfast. warm. fresh off the stove. he, just rolled out the bed, hair mussed no shirt. she, still in last nights outfit and the stench of the club rolling off her in waves.


"did you even sleep?"

"i can sleep when i'm dead."

"sooner than you think"


20 november


one more night
pulse sick
tik tik tik
how's about we drown the world
in their own failure and loss?

[Aurelia Courville]

“i got a promotion.”

She hadn’t looked at him when she said it, spoke to a porcelain pink and gold cup instead, the scent of raspberry and cinnamon heavy in the air.

he looked up, eyes bright and he smiled.

“babe, that’s amazing.” he paused; his smile faltering as he looked at her, finally looked at her in the face. “this is a good thing; try to smile.” he coaxed, so she did. but it wasn’t real and they both knew it.

“yeah… yeah I know. It’s just…” she couldn’t say it, not out loud. the promotion wasn’t really a promotion; just a word to soften the blow. she was being sent to the states to help some case they were working on. if all went well, then maybe she’d be given an actual promotion. but by then, it’d be too late.

Here goes nothing, “so," this won’t end up well. “they’re sending me away for this promotion.” maybe you were right, “and they don’t know how long i’ll be away.” i love my job more than you.



yesterday.


so she says, so she says
playing her words with a smile.

[Aurelia Courville]

…gone.
…was gone.
…he was gone.

no, never dead, just gone. disappeared. but where? and why didn’t he tell her? she was after all, his...no. she would not say those words.

she wouldn’t--couldn’t--cry, but she could drink. oh how she could drink.

all dressed up--dark suit tight around her body--with no where to go, she was dancing across her own set of rooftops, hands raised above her head as rain poured from the cloud-full sky above.

how mad would her roommate be if she interrupted his fight right now? she had it in her mind that she could easily take the both of them. another swig of dark liquid. what did they call this? liquid courage.

She smirked. That was helpful.

21 november


because tonight, oh baby, tonight
I feel on top of the world.
never mind the rights and wrongs
just give me my jack and a cig
no worries, man, no pain.

[Aurelia Courville]

sextape scandals and moving trains. she really wasn't the one to blame.

she wouldn't let her heart sink, tonights drug of choice was a bottle of red wine, hair pulled up in a quick-fix bun.

"don't worry world, don't stop for me."

the words were whispered to the girl in the mirror. the one whose world was the opposite from her's.

"who the fuck are you talking to."

male voice, strong ties, behind an all too thin piece of wood. she'd opened it to see him, eyes bloodshot from all the hits he'd taken from where ever he'd come from.

"you haven't gone crazy have you?"

ever the careful one, always the worried one.

"get fucked."

was all she said before she pushed passed him and into the kitchen for another bottle of wine. she wondered, how was he still so optimistic when they both knew how it was all going to end?


22 november


drummer drummer
here we go.

[Aurelia Courville]

.....

23 november


gripping gripping
holding on.

[Aurelia Courville]

“Lovely fellow.”
Really, he was. There was something different about Akiros that made her go all tingly in her nether regions.

...
Ok, so maybe she was just a masochist.

Jo stood unmoving, looking like a cross between a rock star and a secret agent in her sleek brown jacket made of soft leather, a shiny white shirt that hung loosely over dark skinny jeans and stiletto heeled boots made of buckles and suede. Most of the others took up their devices as soon as he said go. Jo hung back for a bit, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and her lighter and followed the others with her eyes as she tapped the pack on the palm of her left hand, a gesture that was almost automatic. Then she took out a cig and stuck it into her mouth, flicking the lighter to life to bathe the end of the slender stick with an orange tinted light.

Finding the bullet would be easy, taking it from which ever clan held it would be the most time consuming part. So first thing was first; figure out which clan held her bullet, and then she could work on a way to get it from them that required the least amount of effort on her end. Not that she didn’t love a good fight; she just really wasn’t dressed for one at the moment—a little too much rock star and not enough secret agent, in her humble opinion.

The subway was clearing out now and Jo moved to the bench to pick up one of the last remaining tracking devices and pocketing her half empty pack of Parliament cigarettes. She turned on her heel to face the stairs the annoyed blond had pointed to leading up to the streets of New York.

She looked up, breathing in the air of the city around her. There was always something new to discover when she went top side. People were different up here, they had morals and values—growing up Libertine was a whole other disaster. And it had left its mark on Jolene Halloway. She really wasn’t the kind of girl you hugged—even when she was a kid, she was already far too self-contained, somehow for that. When you looked at her, looked in her eyes, they seemed to be saying ‘I don’t need anyone’s sympathy; I can cope with things on my own, thank you very much.’

How she ended up here, one will never know.

She took one last drag before flicking the half smoked cig to the ground and snuffed it out with her heel, checking the device simultaneously. She crossed the street to hail a cab going in the other direction.

This is far too easy.

[Aurelia Courville]

There was a green dot on the screen that bleeped silently; sometimes there, sometimes not. She thought that whoever was holding the bullet might be moving and that would cause some problems if she’d have to chase after him. She tucked the machine away between her bosoms’ to check on later if she needed to. She’d never actually used one of these before, but she had a pretty good idea of where the bullet was. If her directions were any good, it should be in the hands of Cybertech® and they were business minded people. All she had to do was give them a good deal.

She looked at the back of the drivers head, a solid mass of golden red curls. There was an ID on the glass separating them; Edward, Edger J. it read in graying black ink next to pixilated picture of a dark haired man.

Curiouser and curiouser… it was a passing thought. As far as Jo could tell, it wasn’t the lighting that made the man in the picture’s hair a dark brown—almost black—and the man driving her cab’s hair a natural carrot top. She may not know how to use a tracking device properly, but her knowledge of hair care was as good as her fighting skills. And that man driving the cab had hair as untouched by chemicals as a newborn baby’s. No wonder that dot looked like it was moving away.

“Edger, huh?” She sat back in her seat, arms and legs crossed over the other. “Is that like a family name?” watching the eyes of the man, who was definitely not an ‘Edger’, narrow as he looked at her through the rear-view mirror. “Here’s the thing; I’m on a schedule, so could we wrap this up?” the cab took a sharp turn towards the harbour in the warehouse district. “Oh, that’s not cliché at all” she commented sarcastically as she pulled her hair into a messy make-shift ponytail. There was a high probability she would have to fight her way out and she didn’t want to have it be in the way. They drove up to one of the warehouses as the giant metal doors slid noisily open. Inside it was dark and damp and smelled like rotten fish. And she was worried about fighting mussing up her clothes? She’d never get the smell of fish out of anything she was wearing.

Hooks on chains hang from the ceiling, three trucks of different class and size sat unoccupied and unmoving. There were rusted bits of poles and tools of varying shapes on the ground too. Whatever this particular ware house had been used for before, it was clear that it wasn’t important now.

There was a group of about two men all brawn and your typical hired brutes, dressed like they’d stepped out of a mafia movie. ‘Edger’ stepped out of the cab and walked around to the backdoor. The window was cracked a bit and he bent down to speak through it. “Don’t do anything stupid, right?” Jo smirked but made no nod to confirm or deny her intentions and Edger opened the door, reached for her hand and pulled her out of the cab with a grip like iron. She made no fuss, seeing it to be pointless at the moment. She did however sweep the massive room with her brown eyes to take a tally of any thing the room contained that she could use as a weapon.

Darn her if she didn’t only have a tiny gun tucked in those stiletto boots of hers.

[Aurelia Courville]

Edger led her to a chair that sat facing the two other men in the room, one—an imposingly bald man—held a rope. “You know, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this whole situation here. I can’t think of any reason you guys would want me.” None of the men said anything; they did however snicker as Edger pushed her down into the wooden chair. The man with the rope walked behind her and began to tie her hands together. All the while Jo kept talking calmly. “I mean, I’m a nice—ouch—person right?” Still nothing from the men. “So the only explanation”—pause—“you’re working for Akiros, right?”

Their eye’s darted from one another, “You talk too much you know?” Baldy said as he tightened the final knot and walked back around to stand in front of Jo. “You shouldn’t ask too many questions. We aren’t getting paid to answer them.”

Jo nodded, smirk still on her face. “You must be like the group leader or something.” His eyes narrowed at her but she spoke up before he could say anything. “Just a statement, you never said I couldn’t make a statement.” This wasn’t getting her anywhere. She needed to speed up this little shindig; she wasn’t too sure how much time she had already wasted. “Listen, I know you’re just doing your job, but I’ve got a job to do too. How much is he paying you? Oh right, I know, no questions. It doesn’t matter anyhow; I don’t think I could top it either… unless I sold half of my shoes, which, let’s be honest isn’t happening any time soon.”

She bit her bottom lip in thought. “Ok, I got it. You guys let me go, and I won’t kill you.” The laughed even harder, at this then they had earlier. She was testing them, and they obviously underestimated her. “Oh you don’t believe I can do it? Are you sure you really want to put your lives on the line for this?” She waited for them to answer; none of them seemed to be able to catch their breaths enough to do it. “Okay, fine; don’t believe me. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. But, before we get started; can one of you be a doll and light me a cigarette?”

Edger looked at the rope guy who nodded, and then patted down his person to check for a pack on him which he didn’t seem to have. “Oh I’ve got a pack, and a lighter. If you’ll just reach in my jacket pocket…” she trailed off as Edger walked slowly towards her. She gave him a coquettish, under-her eyelashes glance as he reached into the pocket to fetch the cigs and lighter. Jo rocked her hips a little under the impression that she was angling her body so that he could have better access to the pocket and its contents; when in reality, it was more or less another girlish ploy to distract the men. He had managed to get the pack out and stuck on into her mouth, but before he could light it she kicked him in his manly parts. For a second the other two didn’t move and Jo took the opportunity to attempt to stand, her hands still tied behind her back and—as she was now aware—connected to the chair. She didn’t let it hinder her though; instead she used the chair as just another weapon, turning her hunched body around to slam the chair legs into the still hurt Edger hard enough to break the two legs on the right side.

She could hear the other two rushing at her now from behind and she ran backwards as best she could her back still curved in the seat. The impact nearly took her breath away, but she had managed to knock at least one of the hired men on his back, the broken pieces of the chair scattered around his body. Rolling backwards into a standing position, she was finally free from the confinement of the chair but her hands still tied together, though no longer behind her back. She might have also dislocated her shoulder but between her concentration on the fight at hand and the adrenaline pumping at the moment she couldn’t and didn’t really care to stop and verify that it was.

There was a long rusted pipe to her right about five feet off, she wouldn’t be able to run for it with out tipping them off, and they were closer to it by a could of steps. So we improvise a little… “Okay guys, one more chance. You let me walk away, and I’ll spare you any more pain.” They didn’t even think about it. Instead they charged at her. She looked up to see one of the hanging hooks on a chain and jumped to grab hold of it and use it as leverage to swing her over their heads. While they were regaining their footing, she ran to get the pipe. The third guy, the leader, the one with the rope, he had regained his senses and reached the pipe at the same time Jo did.

She narrowed her eyes. “You can not be getting paid enough for this.” He smirked and yanked the pipe towards him. It was hard to get a good grip on it with her hands still tied together. They played tug of war for a few seconds more. That sharp pain in her left shoulder was coming back. I need to end this fight soon. She lifted the pipe as far above her head as she could muster, pulling it towards her and kicking at the same time. Her foot connected with the bald mans stomach and his grip loosened. She kicked again, this time hitting his head, and spinning to use the pipe as a baseball bat; his head being the baseball. “One down; two to go.” Edger and the other—blonde one—finally managed to get themselves up and were headed towards her now.

The Halloway girl smirked and started swinging the pipe around like she’d been born with it—and for all intents and purposes she was. The fight was over in less the seven minutes; which really was a personal best for her. But she didn’t have time to revel in her victory. She was already an hour down and further away from the bullet than she had started.

The adrenaline was wearing of quicker now. She’d have to relocate it herself. Bending forward she let gravity set it back into place. And there was still the matter of the bindings on her hand. She tried loosening it as she headed towards the unoccupied cab still parked in the warehouse. Teeth pulled at the rope, lucky for her they weren’t proper Boy Scout knots. She was free of the ropes and her captors.

She sat behind the wheel taking a steadying breath. Of course he wouldn’t make this easy; why had that thought even crossed her mind.

[Aurelia Courville]

Discomfort.

Discomfort and a dull ache in her left shoulder was all she could feel. But she wouldn’t think about that now, now she had to make up for the hour she had just lost with this little detour down by the harbour.

Her foot pressed down hard on the gas pedal and with no regard for the others on the road she drove; one hand on the wheel and the other holding the tracking device. Now that she knew what she was looking at and literally had her own hands on the wheel, there wasn’t much else she could imagine that could take her away from getting that bullet. Except maybe traffic. She hated driving, particularly on the streets of Excelsis. Thirty minutes later, the cab screeched to a halt in front of a tall glittering building with the name Cybertech® written in bold, imposing letters at the top. The one thing she couldn’t say she missed not seeing in Exvivo.

Her leather jacket was serving her no purpose, ruined by the earlier fight, so she left it in the car. She slammed the car door and replaced the tracking device in her bra. Outside, her boots were muted by the crowded sidewalks, but inside, they echoed on the newly waxed linoleum floors. She must have been expected because the woman at the front desk said nothing but pointed to a separate elevator door to her right. It was a long ride to the top and she as starting to feel a little claustrophobic towards the end of it. She stepped out into a huge office space, one of those corner offices. The kind that that everyone thinks about when you say CEO. Another pretty Asian woman sat at the desk on the other end, along with a glasses clad woman with a clip board behind her and about seven random body guards spread throughout. Jo took note of them, without looking directly at them. Instead she walked straight to the desk of Yumi Fedorova.


“I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

“Jolene Halloway. How nice to finally meet you. I am Yumi Fedorova. Would you care for something to drink?”

“Yes, well, this is nice and all, but I really don’t have time for the pleasantries. Do you have my bullet or not?”
Yumi gave Jo a once over before softening and relaxing in that big plush chair of hers. “Oh I don’t think we can accommodate you. You see, we’ve placed it in the very capable hands of…someone outside the company.”

Jo took a stance, a cocked hip, arms folded, eyes narrowed stance in the middle of the room. A string of curse words floated from her mouth, and in a flash she had pulled the gun from her boot and pointed it at the executive “Cut the crap and tell me where the bullet is.” The body guards moved to her out but Fedorova held her hand up to stop them in their tracks, Jo made no move, kept the gun pointed at her.
“I can understand you’re upset, believe me, if someone tried to disrupt my business I’d want to shoot them too. But you’re aiming at the wrong person…”




[Meanwhile—outside the Cybertech® building.]

He leaned his hand against the little ledge on the car door as it started. It had become second nature long ago, but that didn't mean he stopped enjoying its ingenuity. He flexed the fingers and they obeyed the electric impulses that were amplified inside the arm itself. Even the sinew under his skin stretched and relaxed the way they did on his other arm. His head turned and he frowned, looking at his left meat crane. The technology and durability of his cybernetic prosthesis had called for a wider frame than his body mass could support without asymmetry, so they had sent him to the gym for three hours a day during a period of six months. Lefty still lacked a bit in size compared to his right pride, but it was enough to get by. It wasn't like a cab car would scrutinize him like the airport would. Besides, all he needed to do was play pick-up at few locations as long as he didn't loose his precious off-caliber shell. And that baby was embedded between circuits behind the durable alloy plated titan skeleton of his right arm. Maybe when they extracted it he could ask what the little doodling was on the bullets surface.

"Keep it." he said as the driver left.

Joseph wiggled his digits inside his pockets as he looked up at the tall structure of a working place. He never dressed for these kind of jobs, but at least wearing only the skin glove of his right side weapon had him put on his jacket, today. He was still working to climb the latter of their hierarchy, so discretion and a clean job was still necessary. How hard could it be, it wasn't like there'd be any fighting today, even a monkey could pick up some papers. He pushed the elevator button to the floor with the number he remembered. High up. Must be a hot shot.

When the doors opened a mild surprise followed the 'ding' of the sliding metal panels. Among the group wanting to enter and take his place his eye stuck on an Asian lady. At first it was for the same reason any man would look at any woman, but then something registered in his head, just before his suspicion was confirmed by a tinge from his arm. Enemy, the offense kind. A few people were caught in the way when he swung, heck, even part of the wall was left in rubble. But she saw it and got back in time.

Joe had never been one to roar before war, it didn't go well with his then little self. So he proceeded to get at her in silence. Some even thought that was scarier. Unfortunately he had given away his advantage by using it to maul trough concrete in his first attempt at getting a hold of her, so she knew to stay away from the right. Didn't mean she went far. It was a fast dance of her placing explosive hits on whatever part of himself that he exposed trying to land that one good punch. He'd taken worse sparing with friends. During the course of breaking desks and compromising supporting beams he realized that she was only bruising him with her right arm. He could only guess that meant her left one was weaker.

So while feigning another big swing to have her hop aside, the grabbed that unused wrist of hers with his human fingers, tossing her across the floor and into a vending machine. She was as light as he'd thought. He couldn't imagine she had a lot of juice left after that kind of punishment. Suddenly there was a high pitched scream, and when he looked to the side he realized it hadn't been his opponent, but rather one of the few workers who hadn't been able to flee just yet. The woman in the pencil skirt pointed at him and he directed his eyes to where she stared.

His jacket was in shreds from the battle, and most of the machinery was visible trough the black rags. He cussed and tore the sleeve off. It felt better this way.

"I'm a man where it counts, baby." he said before turning back to his victim.

He was met by a sole to the face which sent him back a few steps. His vision was on the fritz. His entire body was wobbly. His face wrinkled in frustration as he waved his metal in front of him to keep her away. She was a blur at best. How could she have gotten up after that? She picked something up from the floor just as he started to see clearly again. It was a metal ruler and head-shaped brass paperweight. He laughed as he ducked when she threw the head at him. It hit the window behind him. The glass cracked slightly.

"A ruler? Really?"

And then he threw his paw at her once more. As she bent down she buried the metal in his thigh, which made him roar in a way he usually didn't. As he stumbled back she jumped him, sticking the slick make-shift blade in just underneath the shoulder plate of his hard shelled appendage. It sent current after current from the built in battery into his body, and it made tossing her off that much harder. His sensors indicated that she twisted the ruler and then yanked it out; effectively dislodging the bullet he was holding. In the motion of stomping herself off his chest, she sent him back trough the already crackled window. His defeat was a descent of thirty floors. His mark on the world became a stain on the ground.



[above section written by a friend offsite<3]
--------


"So the exec was right about one thing." Jo held the bullet between her thumb and middle finger studying its design outside of the Cybertech® building. But she was wrong about Jo pointing the gun at the wrong person; she wasn’t sure she could have gotten that information out of her otherwise in such great detail. She pocketed the seemingly insignificant piece and opened the cab door.

An hour and forty-five minutes. A ****ing hour and forty-five minutes. It was just unacceptable in Jo’s book; she almost wished she could do it again just to shave a few minutes off it.


24 november


i'm on valium,
everything is okay.