Unfortunate

Greenville Park - New Luna - ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^       Less a park than a forest that people frequently visit, this dirt path winds through tall, white-flowered Clintontrees and stately Acacias with little or no view of the sky above. The sounds of nature fill the air with heady music, and several thin paths snake off from this main one, many heading to lovers' alcoves with views of the sea. """""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" Sun Sep 09 08:23:49 3007 The sun begins to slowly rise over the mountains, bringing the morning mist.

The early morning finds the park somewhat busy, joggers making steady progress down its trails and the occasional family out for a morning walk. Yet it's not so busy that privacy is impossible to find, and so Aadzrian has sat himself down under a large tree somewhat off the beaten path, indian-style on the ground. He breathes deeply with a decidedly unsure expression on his face, mumbling to himself, "Am no sure I is want to doing t'is," but forces his features into a semblance of calm. Closing his eyes, he continues that slow breathing, expression relaxing as he whispers in Timonese, "The New Luna Militia... will they confront the Phyrrians in space on the 22nd, the day of reckoning?" His face goes slack as the Timonae slips into a quiet sort of trance.

You sense: Eruptions of burning gas and twisted metal against a backdrop of stars. A chunk of bulkhead rolls past your field of view. The debris bears the markings of the NLM.

Aadzrian shudders helplessly at that, an unsteady gasp escaping him as he slumps back against the tree- but he keeps his eyes closed, forcing himself to relax his expression as he hisses to himself in Timonese, "No. No, not now. There are still more questions." He digs his nails into his leg for a moment and inhales slowly, and bit by bit the blankness of calm returns to his face. "The next question... will the crew of the Faux face the Phyrrians in outright battle?"

You sense: Sparks exploding from overhead panels. A sharp, stabbing pain.

"Damnit," the Timonae mumbles to himself shakily still in his native tongue, brow furrowing, "why is the future always bad?" This vision doesn't seem to discomfort him as much as the last, however, the man's expression smoothing out rather more quickly. His hand uncurls to rest with fingers splayed across his knee as he murmurs, "One more. Stay with me, future... I mustn't lose the thread." The last touch of worry slipping away, he softly asks of nothing and everything, "The last battle that the other races of the Orion Arm fight with the Phyrrians... show me what the outcome will be."

Tirax arrives from Plaindid Street . Tirax has arrived.

Aadzrian senses: Arid heat. A tall figure, shrouded in black robes, standing on a dune ridge and gazing toward the rising suns. He raises a furred paw and shouts: "FOR ALTHEOR!" Dozens of similarly garbed warriors - some Demarian, but some of other races - shout: "FOR THE ORION ARM!" They pour down the ridge, toward the opposite dune, over which thousands of skittering mechanoid killing machines spill.

The park is fairly busy at this time of day, people taking in the lovely New Luna weather regardless of the current situation. Joggers, happy families, children with pets... and, sitting under a tree, one blank-faced Timonae seemingly in a peaceful trance. At least, for a moment. His eyes flare open abruptly, he leaps to his feet, and Aadzrian slams a fist into that tree, yelling, "No! NO! Gods damned it!" It definitely gathers him some odd looks, but he seems beyond caring, eyes wide and staring wildly.

And who should be walking into the park at that moment, but Tirax Zarni, tired and still in his military uniform. He turns his head at the yell and blinks, quickly moving over. "Aadz?" he calls in Timonese. He knows that scream.

"It's over," Aadzrian gasps in Timonese, staring wildly. "Tirax, it's over, it's over, everything is over. We're all going to die. Everyone. Everyone is going to DIE!" He punches the tree again, helplessly, his arm shaking... it's rather less forceful than the first attempt.

Tirax rushes up to Aadzrian, attempting to restrain him, grabbing him tightly. "Stop it," he growls. "You're scaring me."

Aadzrian doesn't struggle against Tirax, slumping momentarily before turning and grabbing the other man in a fierce embrace. "You have to come with me," he whispers, voice steely. "...you have to come with me away from here. Away from all of it. The NLM will face the Phyrrians on the 22nd, and they will -lose-."

Tirax blinks at Aadzrian, frowning. "Are you asking me to make tha' choice?" he asks in a low voice. "Or are ya takin' it from me?"

"I'm not asking you a damn thing," Aadzrian growls, voice low and almost menacing. "You are coming with me and nothing will stand in my way. Nothing." It's not exactly angry, but it's also completely unyielding, his arms tightening around Tirax.

"Make me," Tirax says in an equally low growl. "Go on. Make me do it."

"All right." That's almost even, those words, as Aadzrian suddenly attempts to crush Tirax to him with one arm, aiming to turn that hug into pinning the more slender man to himself while his other hand immediately drops to draw his gun.

Tirax lets out a squeak at being grabbed suddenly, attempting and failing to get away. He struggles, his PAR falling off his back as he tries to get away. "Aadz!" he says, fear suddenly entering his tone. "What're you doin'?"

Aadzrian slides his gun into his sleeve once it's drawn with his other hand, keeping a firm grip on the handle, with an inch or two of weapon protruding. That muzzle is pressed into Tirax's side under the guise of a caress, and Aadzrian says in a low, loving whisper with a smile on his face, "I'm kidnapping you. Don't struggle, love. It will make everything a lot easier. I didn't want to do it this way, but I can't waste any more time. Just... walk with me, hmm?"

Tirax growls. "An' what'll ya do if I don'?" he whispers back, shrugging off his NLM jacket, dropping it behind him. "Yer'll shoo' me? Kinda defea's th' poin' if ya kill me."

"The BKMS 630D Midvyet has a handy toggle between stun and lethal settings," Aadzrian whispers, still speaking as if he's saying sweet nothings into Tirax's ear, "If you don't walk with me, I'll cram you into a suitcase and take you on the shuttle that way. And that might be uncomfortable. So don't you want to come along peacefully?"

"Fuckin' fine," Tirax says in an angry whisper. "But let it be known tha' I'm really pissed off wi' ya an' yer not gettin' sex for.. an hour," he mutters.

Aadzrian nudges Tirax in the side with that gun barrel, voice soft and amused. "I can bear the pain to save your life. Come on, then. Let's go." The arm around Tirax withdraws, reaching to grab his hand rather tightly, the other hand with the gun retreating further up the sleeve. Thankfully, the coat's oversized sleeves keep it from being -too- conspicuous... at least, at a casual glance.

Tirax growls in his throat, but just walks with Aadz, wherever he will go.

Aadzrian does pause a moment, first. Still keeping his hold on Tirax, with a growled, "Run and I shoot," the Timonae fluidly holsters the gun and draws a knife at his hip. Leaning over that discarded NLM jacket- dragging Tirax down if need be to do so- he slashes through the name tag with the knife.

Tirax rolls his eyes. "Yeah, that'll make a difference," he mutters to himself. "Can we go if ya mus' handle me like that?"

The park is mostly as normal today, the usual assortment of joggers and happy families there. Some ways back, two Timonae hold hands in the shade of a large tree- Aadzrian kneeling by a discarded NLM jacket and pulse rifle, with Tirax standing nearby. "I want to make a point that you simply haven't run off," Aadzrian murmurs, standing and sheathing a knife with a brief flash of silver. The rifle is kicked further back into the underbrush, and he turns to go once more.

Tirax just growls at Aadzrian, shaking his head. "I ain' run off cause I don' wanna be sho', bastar'," he mutters angrily in Timonese, looking haughty. "Where ya takin' me?"

Tiana enters stage left, and by stage left, we of course mean off of Plandid street. She's still wearing her PJ's and it seems she's collected a few flowers on her way further into the park. She continues to collect various blooms on her way, the bouquet in her hands a fair size by the time she nears the two Timonae.

Aadzrian raises that hand he's holding to his lips, smiling. "Now now," he whispers lovingly as he gives it a kiss, "don't look cross with me or you'll ruin everything. Demaria, I think. It's a lovely place and the Faux is still there. Try to smile. You'll get to spend a lot of time with me in the upcoming days." Keeping a rather firm grip on the hand, he lowers it and sets off walking again towards the exit of the park, even whistling a cheerful tune. "I -can- shoot you before you get five feet away if you want me in jail," he adds, laughing.

Tirax just shake his head, letting himself be pulled along. He blinks as he spots Tiana, frowning just a little once more, but he managed to pull a strained smile. The strain carried into his voice. "Hey darlin'," he says as she approaches. "Yer lookin' good."

Tiana looks up and towards Tirax, the strain in his voice noted with a small frown. The furrow further deepens as she notices the lack of NLM jacket, of all things, "Thanks..." She trails off for a second, a glance, dark and suspicious flashed towards Aadzrian, though she addresses the Marine once more, "Why aren't you wearing your uniform jacket?"

Aadzrian frowns slightly at that suspicious glance, his brow furrowing and his mirth fading. "Tiana, every couple has argue," he remarks heavily, some strain telling in his voice as well, "and you needs no worry. I knowing are no nicest man, but woulds never hurting him... more t'an he wanting me too, anyway," he adds with a somewhat forced chuckle. "As for jackets, I guessing you leaved it back at work since break is so short, anyway?" He tilts his head inquisitively up at Tirax.

Tirax looks a little confused at the change of topic, stumbling over his words slightly. "Ah, nah, it got damaged," he says. This at least is no lie. "Need ta get a new one soon as."

"You're a liar." Tia states bluntly in a flat tone to Aadzrian, the line of her jaw tightening slightly as though she were clenching her teeth. It releases, somewhat, after a few moments, her eyes shifting back to Tirax, "Even if it's damaged, you should still have had it with you until you got a replacement."

Aadzrian agrees with a helpless shrug- "I'm a liar. Tiana- galaxy? It is to dying. Go home to man t'at you loving and live wit'out regret, and I wills doing te sames." He then simply sets off walking, pulling Tirax after him- not overly forcefully, and he does stop if the other man is unwilling to come. In Timonese, he adds "Fact of the matter is, I don't really want to bother at this point if you're not with me. I'll go to jail if you resist, or I'll die, whatever. Come with me."

Tirax frowns and just lets himself be dragged by Aadzrian. "Damn ya fer doin' this ta me Aadz," he says softly in Terran, looking helplessly at Tiana. "This bastard is kidnappin' me, an' he'll shoo' himself if I don' go. I can' live withou' him," he remarks quietly. "Off ya go, go tell someone. Give us a minu'e to ge' onto a shuttle.. I can' lose him again. Jus'... get yerself offplanet, soon as ya can, okay?"

"So you'd rather someone else come and shoot him?" Tia asks quietly, turning to face the departing two, "Running away solves nothing... only now you're going to be running from more." She shakes her head lightly, lip curling slightly, "Why do I always get put into these positions?"

"Shoot my-self? No, were more t'inked someone -else- shoot me when I getted catched," Aadzrian says in a low voice, a chuckle escaping him, before he tosses a reply over his shoulder, "Tiana- It are ending. Running away be only way t'at anyones wil living. Please to be believing me. I has -seed- it. And I is no going to being wit'out Tirax again in watever time is had left. If you trying and stop me now, I wil fights. I canno do anyt'ing else anymore."

Tirax shakes his head at Tiana. "Yeah, I know. I jus' got no choice. I need him." He frowns, looking oer his shoulder. "He's never wron' on these thin's," he notes softly. "I love ya like a sister Tiana. Get off th' plane' soon as."

"My universe dies and crumbles every night, and all I see is red." Tia murmurs, dark eyes shifting up to Aadzrian, "Everything withers, everything dies and it all turns to dust." She offers Tirax an' odd, faint smile, "I love you too, Tirax."

"I knowing very wel wats you meaning," says Aadzrian softly, "and I is no able to facing it alone. Good-bye, Tiana. Perhaps we wills al be meeting again... if never on New Luna." He squeezes Tirax's hand, but not forcefully- just gently, as he looks to Plaindad Street and continues that way. "You finded Tirax's jacket, ripped and teared, in park- or you sawed t'is. Are up to you. Jacket are under tree back t'ere."

Tirax waves after Tiana, letting himself be pulled. "Emotional blackmail, it's the wors' kin'," he says to her. "Go to Rill, spen' th' bes time ya can with him, while ya can. Take care of yerself, ya know how ta ge' holda me."

"Wait.." Tia calls softly, taking a step or two forward. She picks a flower each from the bouquet in her hands, one for each Timonae, offering them over in turn. For Aadzrian one of the deepest red, it's edges lined with a purple so dark it's nearly black, and to Tirax one of snowy white, mottled with speckles of red.

Aadzrian halts for that, turning to take the flower, a gentle and melancholy smile creasing the right side of his face. The left side of his lips remains impassive, however, curtailed by that scar. "Sorry," he murmurs, sliding the flower into a buttonhole of his suit. "I -was- always to owed you an apology."

Tirax takes the flower gently, carefully holding it in his other hand. "Tell em I got taken again' my will," he says quietly to Tiana, bowing his head. "I don' wan' them to remember me as a weak willed bastar' whose though's were for himself an' his love."

"There's nothing weak about love, Tir. It's the hardest thing in the world." Tia murmurs, pulling the remaining flowers to her chest and looking down to them, "I'll pray to the Gods and Lady Luck for you both. Goodbye." With that she turns, heading over to retrieve the NLM jacket from its hiding place.

"Shut up, Tirax. I pointed guns at you," Aadzrian points out. "T'is are against your wil. No one could saying ot'erwise." He chuckles gently. "Gods never has being good to me.. but here is chance." Another squeeze to Tirax's hand, and Aadzrian begins walking once more.