Octavius Tertullian (Faust)'s Story

It had been a very long five years; a very draining five years. The non-operational training had been drawn out much longer than Faust had expected, and the cumulative effect of it was impacting on him as he made his slow way through the troughs and trenches of underworld. These were always his preferred route. The dregs and dross of the lowest society in creation all put on parade, their iniquity and shame thrown into relief and highlighted for judgement. But judgement was only to come when the order was given, and in five years it had not yet been given. Which had left Faust feeling taught, on edge, and uncomfortably close to an awareness of the fact that, being a denizen of underworld, he might not be any better than any of these people...

He grunted, twisted his face into a snarl and pushed himself onwards. Why today to dwell on these things? After all, it could bed that his waiting was at an end. The summons had come, and it was only his troubled distractions that were slowing him as her made his way through the degraded throng.

Picking up the pace he eventually found himself at the Krux building. He was not late especially, but neither was he comfortably early. He took a deep breath before stepping into the elevator, drawing himself tall and folding his arms into his vestments. He found himself making his way up alone, and took another pause before entering the designated room. The hows and jeers from inside were already pricking at his ears. He scowled...for a supposedly elite unit, the othe harvesters were so unruly, uncontrollable...in some cases such blunt instruments. Perhaps an ironic statement for someone who's weapon of choice was a maul.

The first was the one known as Lance, or "Reaver". Faust had something resembling admiration for that young man, for a confluence of reason's he'd been able to identify. His history as a Butler spoke something of humility, but more pragmatically his skill with thrown weapons was contrastingly and complimentarily 'incisive' to Faust's own combat style. Plus was there was something delightfully 'purgative' about his ability to rack someone's body with electrical charge...

The other person Faust gave special acknowledgement too was Tai Shan...he wasn't sure if that was her code name or her actual new name, they both sounded so similar to him. He scarcely ever talked to her - his lifestyle had conditioned him to be reticent towards women. But his reason for marking her out among the other harvesters was something more of a mystery to him. It was as though she embodied something...powers both familiar and terrifying. It wasn't admiration he felt for her, it seemed more like a kind of dread fascination.

But whatever the reasons, those were the two harvesters he would choose to go into the field with if given the choice. Though in his time in underworld so far, choice had featured precious little. Perhaps with this meeting, that was about to change...

The temperature in the room increased, and Lance opened his eyes to look around. He immediately noticed that Elissa and Feng were close... closer than Feng would normally be, especially since the person she was close to was Elissa. Lance eyed the two with mild interest, also noting that Faust had arrived. The tall man stood close to the doorway, and Lance noticed that he was looking slightly disgruntled. Maybe he'd gotten into a scuffle, which was a fifty-fifty chance, of course. Faust had a habit of being kind to some, and a demon in human skin to others. Rumors of the rogue Priest had reached his Mansion, which was located all the way in Australia. Lance's Mistress certainly knew a lot of things, and a lot of people. Lance sometimes even questioned her humanity. Lance once again surveyed the room, this time actually noticing who had arrived properly.

There were a few faces that he knew, one was Insanity, or Frankenstien Brokenheart. One had to wonder about the mans name. Sure, his first name spoke for itself, but 'Brokenheart'? Maybe he changed it after a relationship went sour, or he just had the same loathing of general humanity that Lance had inside of him. Maybe he felt sad because of the fact that he couldn't socialise with people much, due to his.... well, Insanity, obviously. Still, Lance wasn't in a position to judge or criticize the man, and Lance didn't really want to. Sure, his Insanity was uncommon, but Lance had had to deal with his Mistress' younger sister, and what's worse than her? Being locked in a Basement which doubled as your everything room must suck, and your psyche would probably crack. In fact, Lance might've been the only one who ever bothered to visit her, and since he was barely around any more....

A pang of guilt hit Lance like a shockwave. He realised that he wanted, no, needed to see her again. He had other things to do on the surface as well, so when he was up there next time, he might go visit them or something. And maybe his Mother's Grave as well.

Lance covered his mouth and coughed. It was fairly loud, and when he realised a few people had turned to stare he apologised and bowed his head. How had his thought train crashed right then? How had it gone so off of the Rails? Lance shook his head and returned to what he was previously thinking about.

Lance surveyed the room, taking in more faces. Richard... Yes, Richard. Possibly the only person in the room that still held on to the values of Loyalty and trust, even if it was only slightly. Lance wanted to fight him someday, actually, he wouldn't mind taking on Faust or Feng either, maybe even Insanity or the Drunk man, but he wouldn't voice his opinions. Lance looked over the others, his focus finally re-landing on Faust. The man was tall, yes, but how would he fair against Lightning and Knives that can defy time itself? Sure, that Maul of his was big, and even if it only hit Lance once, it could probably break a few bones and ribs, maybe even knock him out cold. He liked Faust though, and if they ever did fight, Lance hoped it wouldn't be to the death, because even though Lance would, undeniably, enjoy shedding his opponents blood, he still slightly respected the older man.

Faust was a holy man, a roving Priest, a 'Father' of the Light. Lance never did believe in God, or any religions, a true Atheist, that he was, but something about the way Faust seemed so sure about what he was doing was right, Lance would tag along any time. As long as it was kept under control. Faust's fighting style, in essence, rushing in and breaking things with his giant Hammer, was fairly convenient, albeit fairly unnecessary, and the funny thing was that his abilities and skills complemented Lance's fairly well.

Lance looked around, a slight smirk on his face. He almost forgot about one of the last times he'd used his Electricity powers. He thought back to it, his eyes widening in ecstasy, he had to bite his lip to stifle a giggle, or moan, whatever it was. He felt the cool trickle of blood flow down his chin, dripping onto his jacket and staining a small patch crimson. His fingers crackled with electricity, letting the sparks sizzle in the air slightly, surrounding him with little sparks of energy, like little Will-O-the Wisps, rotating, circling around him and snapping in the air. They were perfectly harmless, unless Lance wished for them to harm others, of course. Suddenly, they all condensed into a ball that floated just in front of Lance, who at this time had closed his eyes.

The ball twisted, slightly like a small twister, the center of a Maelstrom, just like the Maelstrom inside Lance. It just stayed there, and didn't stop moving around, even when Lance stopped controlling it manually. Lance didn't even have to use hand actions to control Electricity any more. Lance cocked his head to the side slightly, never opening his eyes. His face maintained a peaceful composure as he turned to the newly entering Loki. "Nice of you to join us, Mr. Delirium. How has you day been so far?".

((Sorry Haze, but I must borrow Havok. Oh and your partner assignments are listed in the OOC.))



Rose protested and pleaded with Feng to rethink her actions as she shoved her scythe away. "Tai! You can't be serious... Don't give into Charlotte's demands! You underestimate her! You have no idea the kinds of things... she'll DO to you..." She shivered as she recalled an obviously disturbing memory. She was about to let loose another stream of protests when she noticed how restless everyone was getting. Having all thirteen, including both twins, Harvesters in one room was probably not a wise decision.

Luckily, it seemed as if everyone wouldn't have to wait for much longer. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Gullies did a silent headcount and followed it with a satisfied nod. No one else seemed to notice as he walked over to the large red wall and lean against it. Rose couldn't quite make out what he did exactly, but whatever he did, the wall began to pull apart to unveil a large dark hallway. Everyone silenced their mindless chatter to stare at the new hallway.

Havok motioned with his head for everyone to follow him. Rose stood their for a moment just staring at the hallway then proceded to be the first one to enter. The hallway was long and twisted and seemed to go on forever. Perhaps it did. It finally came to abrupt halt to a door. Gullies opened the door and revealed a large room with a meeting table in the center. It had a total of sixteen chairs around the table and each gothic-style chair had a numeral marked on the back. Except for two. One of which Gullies took beside.... a taken chair. There, at the very end of the table, was him. Swain. He gave off every vibe as being a very important and a very shrewd business man. Although, he didn't seem very old. Only in his thirties, if that. He had long white hair that ended at his shoulder and was very tall. Even when seated. He was adorned in a pure white suit with gold trimmings. Very flamboyent and gaudy. There was also one more detail that caused Rose to frown when she laid eyes on him. He was wearing a carnival mask that covered only the upper portion of his face.

For five long years, they hadn't even heard a direct word from him and even now he wouldn't show his face to them? The more she thought about it, the more it caused her to frown. Even so, she still took her seat towards the middle of the table. The chair labled, "VII." Rose propped her head up with one arm while the other drummed her slender fingers against the mahogany table. As the first one to sit down, Swain turned to smile at her beneath his shrowd of mystery. She gave him a half smile and then proceded to frown again at her thoughts.

As soon as everyone proceded to sit in their assigned seats, Swain stood up and cleared his voice. Just as Rose thought, he was a very tall man and towered over the table.

"Good evening to all of you. As all of you know, my name is Swain." He said as an almost purr. His voice sent shivers down Rose's spines. His voice was beautiful and hypnotic, but was completely unhuman. His voice wasn't like anything she'd ever heard before.

"Now, first of all, I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm wearing this mask... As much as I'd love to share my identity with you all, I cannot at this point in time. Why? Because we've been infiltrated." Rose's eyebrows raised at the comment. Infiltrated? How is that possible?

"You fourteen, including Gullies, are the last people I can trust. However, before I can get into that matter, I'd like to show you some things first."

He gestured towards the wall behind him as a screen lit up. On the screen were a couple charts. The title was, "Krux's Monthly Profit Compared To Rival Companies." On the very top of the chart was Krux highlighted in red. On the bottom, were a whole rainbow of lines that weren't even close to Krux. However, as you looked thorough the months, you'll notice in the last year one dark blue line that dramatically sky-rocketed up the chart right below Krux. During a couple months, the line was even above Krux's.

Rose was fairly certain she was voicing everyone's opinions when she said, "Well so? Every company has to deal with competition. No big deal."

"Ah, yes, as right as you are, Nyx, it wouldn't be any concern of the Harvesters.... if an incident hadn't occured yesterday. It was quickly covered up, so no one would learn of it. Now, I'd like you to pay very close attention to the next picture..."

A new picture appeared on the screen and Rose raised her eyebrows. Now, a normal person would probably either pass out, vomit, or scream, but the Harvesters were quite used to this kind of thing. Even so, it did mildly surprise Rose.

On the screen was a brutal homocide of a woman. Not just any woman either. She was known as Swain's secretary, Nira. Rose often saw her running about the building taking care of things that needed to be done. She was a thin lady with sleak blonde hair. She reminded Rose of a fox. Now, she lay on the ground maliciously ripped and torn to pieces. She was barely recognizable. The only thing left in tact was her head with a look of pure horror etched into her face. The rest of her body was scattered about. Some of her organs were cruelly sown back together in unnatural positions. However, the detail that really left an impression was the message. Written beside the gory mess was a short sentence typed out in..... bones. Nira's bones specifically. It said, "STEP DOWN." Rose was sure to take in one more insignificant detail before Swain took the picture down. A medium-sized black feather lying next to Nira's head.

"So, as you all can see, we have reason to believe this rival company was the one who organized this distasteful show of aggression. However, we have no clue what this organization's name even is. Out in the market, they're simply known as Company X. Because of all this secrecy, it's very difficult to track them. We do believe that there's evidence somewhere. In fact, we believe that a few of their followers are still hanging around in the building. Which leads me to give you your first assignment as full-fledged Harvesters. Investigate any evidence, destroy the spies, and bring your findings. Also one more thing, absolutely NO killing of any other individuals other than the spies. If you kill an innocent, you will severely punished."

Swain put an emphasis on 'severely punished', which sent yet another chill down Rose's spine. This man was extremely powerful. You could feel it coming off of him in waves.

"Final note. I'm assigning you into pairs. None of you are to go without your partners." He waved his arm and a stack of black letters flew out. One landing in front of each person.

"Each has your partner along with the sector you will be investigating. Good luck to you all." With that, the meeting was over and we were free to go. As she strolled out, she carefully opened the letter. She nearly screamed when she saw who her partner was. This can't be..... how can I be stuck with HIM! she ranted in her head. She crumbled the letter in her hand and collapsed on the waiting room couch while hitting her head against a sofa cushion.

The letter simply stated Zehn as her partner, that they were to investigate Nira's room, and that they believed there were seven spies in total in the building somewhere. However, Rose couldn't get over the fact she was paired with a man...

Richard was observing the ever entertaining Frankie. It wasn't overly surprising that the boy... erm man would be hopping around like a crazed bunny on steroids. The only odd thing that, even after years of witnessing, even remotely creeped Richard out was the man's manic one sided conversations. "Frankie... I, forget it..." Richard figured that Frankenstein wasn't listening, like always. Richard also assumed that Frankenstein was probably the furthest gone of all the Harvesters, except maybe Elissa, but she was just a sex crazed love muffin. Either way, Richard was usually the man stuck babysitting Frankenstein, which wasn't all too bad, but it ended up being a pain in the ass moreover. He could remember one time when the two went out and Frankie had his first taste of blood in days... He essentially became a whole different person, rampaging like a rabid tasmanian devil. It literally took Richard's full strength just to restrain him and calming him was a whole different story.

As Richard returned to the situation at hand, Frankenstein appeared to be talking to him. "Hm?" He realized that Frankenstein was talking about fighting... again. "No Frankie. We will not fight, at least not now..." He listened as Frankenstein continued to ramble about his usual habit of playing doctor with anyone he could find. "You will NOT be playing doctor, now sit patiently and wait for the meeting to begin." As soon as the words left his mouth Richard knew Frankenstein would 1. whine like a four year old that's fallen on the ground and 2. begin rambling again claiming that Richard was stupid and such. Thankfully Havok had opened a a passageway leading through a dark hall where the meeting was presumably held. 'Saved by the Bell.'

Richard made sure to be the tenth person to enter the hall and the tenth person to sit, like always. His little incident in the waiting room was terrible but it seemed that nobody noticed his folly. He sat with the lovely X branded on the backrest. "Ah thy lovely ten." Richard cracked a smile of pure elation at his success, proceeding to lean on his elbows that rested on the tabletop. He looked down at Swain noticing the tacky mask covering the upper half of his face. "Not revealing your identity, huh..." He spoke quietly as the remaining Harvesters fumbled around, sitting in their seats. He watched the excruciatingly boring presentation on the large screen, seemingly not amused. 'Why is this so pointless.' He listened as Rose commented, "Ah, good point Mistress Obvious." He listened in further, trying to appear interested, but then... a new picture was shown. Richard knew the face, he knew the women... His eyes widened, heart cracked and brain went blank. "NIRA!" He couldn't restrain himself, he immediately drew his sword slamming it on the table while arising from his previous posture. "SWAIN! WHO DID THIS?!?!?!" Richard was not only floored, but enraged, depressed and more importantly... losing his self control. He attempted to regain his composure but couldn't take the sight of the women he actual gave a damn about, dead... gruesomely tortured, mutilated. "I sincerely apologize... I, uh, lost my cool for a moment..." Richard returned to his seat as Swain distributed the black envelopes. He almost felt as though it wouldn't matter who he was paired with, they wouldn't understand his personal connection to the case. Either way, he opened the envelope to read the name of his partner and there location of investigation... 'Nyx and Nira's room.' The room he visited many times in his leisure.

Lance, or Reaver, as he was called by his fellow Harvesters, and being the second Harvester to enter the dark Hallway, sat at his Chair instantly, not even bothering to face the other Harvesters. As he sat, he watched another drop of blood fall from his lip. Catching it in his hand he watched it slide around, slowly creating marks on his palm. he clenched his fist, and when he reopened it, the blood was gone. He looked up just as the picture of the mutilated woman appeared on the screen, smiling like a madman, but when he realised who it was, his grin faded. Reaver knew that Zehn couldn't react well, and so Reaver wasn't surpised when the man leaped out of his chair in rage, an obvious tantrum bursting out of him. Reaver spared Zehn a glance, not a glance of the usual emotionlessness that he usually conveyed, but a glace of understanding and sadness. "Zehn, may I speak to you privately after the meeting ends?". Reaver knew just how Zehn felt, but shook his head and concentrated on the situation at hand.

As Swain handed out the Envelopes, Lance caught his mid air, already standing from his seat as he opened the sealing and glanced at what lay inside.

Reaver - Faust - Third Floor

Reaver turned and left the room immediately, only stopping just outside the door to wait for Zehn to catch up to him. If Zehn didn't show up soon, Reaver wouldn't be able to speak to him. It was obvious that Zehn had cared for, and probably still cared for Nira. Reaver didn't speak to Nira much at all, only maybe once or twice, but still, he knew what Zehn was going through. He also waited for Faust to speak with him, and the anticipation inside him rose just that little bit higher with every single thought of his later encounter with the Traitor.

(Gah, sorry for the horrible post, my Brain isn't functioning properly at the moment D= )

Faust had followed the crowd into the boardroom without a word. Laying eyes on Swain for the first time with his face obscured didn't bother him, though the extravagance of the stylized mask seemed unnecessary. Nevertheless, as a man who once orchestrated religious ritual, he understood the impact of theatrics, and in any case was scarcely going to bear ill-will against the one person who could put Faust's underworld existence into motion before he began to entirely fester and atrophy.

The speech itself held little to interest him, while it seemed at first that there was nothing more at stake than the lion's share of underworld's capital. And then the picture of the woman appeared. Faust's breath caught in his throat at the sight. As well as theatrics, Faust also had an appreciation for the gravity of dessecration...and dessecration was something the attacker of that woman clearly had in mind. What a way to send a message. At last, Faust was interested. Especially at the way Richard reacted to the sight of the woman. Had he some involvement with Swain's secretary? Perhaps then the woman had incured some kind of judgement after all...

From there on it was clear instructions, though the command not to harm any 'innocent' cause the corners of Faust's lips to curl up. Who, in underworld, was 'innocent'? Any one of the harvesters could go on a random killing spree, dispatching anybody they laid eyes on for a whole day, and would still be entirely unlucky if they breached Swains mandate not to kill an 'innocent'. Nevertheless, the gravity of Swain's warning demanded prudence. Obviously he meant 'innocent' only of the crime before them.

His musing was interrupted by the distribution of the partner assignments. It was uncanny that his prior thoughts should have been so aptly translated into Swain's selection, and he wondered if his being paired with Reaver indicated that Swain had more insight into their ponderings that any of the realised. But there wasn't time to dwell on that. Reaver was already out of his seat and had sauntered outside. Why the rush? Faust looked around, but all the other harvesters had begun to scramble into action of one kind or another, some of them embroiled in petulent antics. Once again, the impression was far contrary to that of a team on which a shrewd businessment like Swain could rely upon...but that wasn't Faust's problem. He was only glad that he had to deal with just one other harvester; one whom he at least did not completely revile. On his way past Feng he gave her a shifty eye once again, as he noticed a flash of divine power pass from her to Charlotte. At that moment he felt a distinct tug on his heart, and he recognised in it somethat that had once spoken to the core of his being. Could it be...even in a place like this...?

But the moment of awe could not last long, as the chaotic female harvesters toussled and bickered, and Faust made his way quickly out of the room, finding Reaver stood by the door. He held his note up in front of him, looked at it, then back at his erstwhile partner.

"Third floor..." he muttered, "...do we know what's there to investigate?"

Reaver's eyes lifted up from the path that they'd been tracing along his own right hand, up towards the older man who stood in front of him. Faust was a fair bit taller than Reaver was, so he already had the feeling that he was inferior in some way. Reaver shook his head and rubbed his forehead, his migraine hadn't let up, and the noise from the other room wasn;t exactly helping it either. He turned his head, toward the room behind him, and re entered it, after notifying Faust that he was going to do so, of course. He walked over to Zehn and placed a hand on the mans shoulder. "Find me later, then we'll talk". With that, he left the room, stopping just behind Faust.

"The third Floor..... from what I can remember, which actually isn't much, considering I've only been there a few times, maybe five at most, is that that is where the Technology is, and where Intelligence Gathering usually takes. Last time I went there.....".

It was at that moment that a flashback happened to occur, and Reaver was still for the while it took to pass. Reaver stood in the perpetual darkness of the room, surrounded by nothing but the buzz of electronics and the droning of mechanical engines, tiring from the overuse that they endure almost daily. Reaver remembered somebody telling him something about how one of their Computers had died suddenly, and how they couldn't start it. Reaver waved his hand and checked the Machine, his time as a Butler meant that he was alright at fixing things, if not the greatest, but he still knew what was wrong. It didn't matter though. As Reaver pressed his hand to the machine, he had the oddest sense of deja vu. It hit him squarely, causing his concentration to collapse momentarily. He regained it in time to put his hand back to the metal plating and sent a powerful charge through it. A terribly loud humming started up, and Reaver stepped back in time to see something light up. Amidst many thanks and grins, Reaver left the room to go back to what he was previously doing, which was relaxing at his favorite Cafe in Hell.

Reaver blinked his eyes as he returned to the present, he shook his head again, clearing his thoughts. He realised that he had finished speaking mid-sentence, and turned to Faust. "Sorry about that, Master Octavius, I was just recalling something. Anyways, last time I went there was to start up a piece of Machinery that had broken, which I did, if you want to know... Anyways, shall we go?". Reaver eyed Faust, searching for any signs that the man though Reaver was inadequate or inept.

And if he did think that, Reaver would show him just how wrong he was.

Richard sat quietly after reading the note. He was distraught... continually replaying memories of the every so sweet Nira... "Why..." He murmured emptily to himself, his eyes grew more blank as he continued his sulking of the situation, only to be nudged by someone. "What?" Richard looked up with his glazed eyes, his pale face, and rather empty face. "Yes, Reaver?" He faded in and out while trying to listen to Reaver's words. "Zehn... speak... privately... ends?" Richard knew it was time to get moving, Rose wasn't the patient type and everyone was starting their missions. "Of course... give me a few minutes." Richard finally stood up straight, having seen roughly everyone leave the room, he fumbled like a drunk man to the exit. Richard knew Nira would ultimately become a weakness, he also knew that Swain was the man that hated seeing Harvesters have weaknesses... that's why he was teamed with Rose. 'Wait! He couldn't have, he wouln't, his own secretary!' Richard felt himself return from the bottomless pit of despair. 'I'll get to the bottom of this, and Swain if you end up being involved anymore that we know, May God help You.' He felt awkward thinking such thoughts but he knew that Swain was that man who'd do whatever it took to make his Harvesters strong.

Richard took a brisk pace to Reaver who was waiting idle near the exit. "Yes, Reaver, what did you want to talk about?" He looked around to see if Rose was still waiting around for him or if she stupidly ran off on her own, like always. "Well, sorry chap, but this'll have to wait. I know Rose all too well; she may hate us men, but she's gonna need somebody's help. Ciao." Richard waved at Reaver, as he barely stopped his brisk walk before starting up again, hopping in the conveniently open elevator and pressing the 5th Floor Button. "Ah Jazz, such evenly notated music." Richard decided to hum quietly with the music playing in the elevator. He arrived at the 5th floor, quietly stepping out into the dark lobby. "No electricity, eh?" Richard drew his sword, igniting it as his hand swept across the blade. "An even flame is much better." He was a little too happy about the flame emitting from his sword. "Ah, Rose!? Where are you comrade?" He figured Rose would simply ignore him, but he might as well notify her of his presence.

"Intelligence Gathering?" Faust grunted "Going to be difficult to get machines to talk. Still, if you've been there before then it won't raise too much suspicion if we show up there again. If there is a mole in there, we don't want to spook them too early. Especially if there's any information on the machines which they could erase before we find it."

He grinned slightly at the way Reaver addressed him as 'Master Octavius'...it tickled his pride. Once a butler, always a butler. Richard appeared alongside and mumbled something to Reaver. Faust took no notice...the man had already shamed himself by showing grief and thereby betraying that he had been in some way involved with the dead woman. The devil take you as well, Faust thought to himself. No wonder 'Rose' didn't want to wait around for him.

"I'm ready when you are." he said blankly to Reaver, and made his way over to the elevator, waiting for it to return. "Did you ever meet anyone from that floor? Do they know who...or should I say, what we are?"