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tmac attack

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Maxentius firmly planted his hand on the High Senator’s shoulder, giving him a modest and friendly shake, the one a kind elderly man with a seasoned history expresses to those for whom he cares.

“Put her on the Council already, Pax; she’d have the whole lot of them running with their damned tails between their legs! ‘Chuckling little s--t’, I love it, imagine the reaction from Marcello or Jarlath if she threw such fire at them. That is what we need there anyways, cold hard pragmatism. Tough words with no fluff. Not the shallow lot we have today impeding all matters regarding the advancement of this fine Republic. Their petty politics are ruinous.”

Cecilia loved the general dearly—he was a figure of fatherly care when her real father was lost and her step father’s time was absorbed in the governmental affairs taken as a Premier. He adores her wit, and the ferocity she utilized with it. It was a healthy combination of personalities that accented each other; he was notoriously sarcastic at the appropriate times and stern in others. It was a pattern of behavior Cecilia was very much inclined to practice and enjoy.

“Perhaps she will," the High Senator Taurus was always amused with his friend’s humor—but his demeanor was defined by a superb sense of collectivity. He beams lightly at the contrasting, expressive personality of General Maxentius, enjoying his uplifting company, but yet retains calmness and composure. He maintains a single stance—back straight and the neck relaxed, with his hands together at his front. The senatorial robes he wore were predominately cobalt blue, with a lighter cerulean blue set of stripes lining his jointed areas and his belt. The belt was magnificently large and beautifully decorated, occupying his pelvic area and the base of his ribs—majestic swirls of rays extended outward from a single sun with a masculine face at the center of the belt.

22-Jul-2015 08:56:55 - Last edited on 17-Aug-2015 01:41:18 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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A single alloy and cloth spaulder sat upon his right shoulder, with a large monarchy orange silk swinging from its base to around his left hip, and reconnecting at the back again.

“Masters can emerge in the most unexpected of places.”

“Couldn’t disagree with that, I suppose,” Andro responded, his hand still on the senator while he gazed forward.

“No? Were it a different time, it would have been far more difficult. I fear it impossible, even. Though, perhaps"-”

“Perhaps difficult times sometimes are the best for the unforeseen heroes to emerge.”

“Or unforeseen enemies.”

The general patted his old friend once more before attending to his pipe to replenish the
Silvia, and activating the vaporization mechanism at the bowl end, he began to release fresh smoke from his mouth as he pivoted the pipe back and forth habitually. “We will keep our eyes and hears keen. They are everywhere, anyways.”

Paxennto was a man who believed in respect. He was sincere in his marriage and love for the High Magus, but as renowned as his reputation and positions both former and recent were, he felt as if replacing Seiro Solaras was a feat no one was capable of. Paxennto was the leading bloodline of the Taurus; a name which has existed at the forefront of Ambrosian conquest for centuries. They have been present at every major battle across the regions of the galaxy, acting as generals, admirals, commanders. Lord Octavius Taurus led the assault at Vola-Skaei a hundred and fifty years ago to crush the Krylix. Scipio Taurus was a low ranking centurion with only one thousand men left at Firerock Hold when the Älvar of the Black Phoenix’s final insurgent force landed on the planet Mearzans, the volcanic foundry.

22-Jul-2015 08:56:55 - Last edited on 17-Aug-2015 01:41:57 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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He defended his position for weeks, long enough for the fleet in pursuit of the Black Phoenix to land, ending the uprising. His cousins and nephews and uncles and aunts own property—they have owned vast amounts of land, they finance, they assume power roles in the government—they are Bulls to be reckoned with.

Yet, even a Bull is cautious to those with great power. Where the might of Taurus has broken enemies with weapons and will, the Magus have dissolved laws—the laws that were assumed in place of the universe. They bend and warp matter, they pull from the unstable and the disharmonious and control it, mold it into their creations for their own purposes.

Thus, he found it difficult to engage his step children due to their background. He did not wish to maintain a cautious distance, and desired to show affection for them, but some take the death of a father quite harshly—sometimes memories cannot be replaced.

“How are you, angel?” Paxennto gently took Cecilia under his arm.

“Fine, father,” she welcomed his gesture warmly.

“Hungry, I presume?”

She nodded.

"Come now. I’m sure your brother would be happy to bring you to the Dinery. I hear they have viola berries and those hot, buttered rolls you love so much,” he pinched her cheek with his pointer and middle finger, then looked upon his step son.

The dynamic between the two males was vastly different. Notions and past memories flurried about in their facial expressions as the two looked at one other—Marcus’s stare was taut—he was quite keen on the fact that Paxennto was not his father. Out of respect, he moderates the unease in his relationship with the Senator. Nonetheless, both were sincere and honorable, and conscious of the matters at stake that transcended their skewered bond.

“Can you do this for me, Marcus?"

The stepson's expression softened faintly—yet his words remained stone. He nodded, and knelt a proper Sun Walker kneel to his superior. “Of course, father.”

22-Jul-2015 09:13:21 - Last edited on 18-Aug-2015 23:18:48 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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He was surprised as his step father’s hands met his arms. “Oh rise, young one; they teach you such manners in the Order, I can see this now. We aren’t dining at the Älvar garden, please, you do not need to kneel to your stepfather here.”

Marcus rose, greeted by the High Senator’s inviting, friendly appearance.

“Your brother’s trial begun at sunrise. May I ask why have you not been present in its entirety? I don’t intend to give you a lesson in family values right now, it is not my place. It is your Order, not mine.”

“I saw him after his Atonement. I…it is difficult, watching him.”

“He’s incredibly gifted.”

“More than I am.”

“Is that why it is difficult watching?”

Marcus remained silent.

The concerned stepfather decided it best to end his casual questions. He patted Marcus once more on the shoulder, smiling and proud.

“Well, your mother wishes for you to attend the final combat phase. She has requested of me to bring you this message. You are not a child, I will not force it upon you to be present in every ceremonial instance. Now, get some food in your sister’s belly before she devours the entire Statem, yes?”

Marcus and Cecilia wondered off into the walkway and towards the Dinery, the young sister’s voice echoing on about some pompous mistress at the Academy who bothered her in class. Both men continued to stare at them as they disappeared into the great halls of the Statem, the general still smoking on his pipe.

The mood changed very quickly between the two, one of worry that was to be combatted by rationalistic logic and political savviness.

“It will be very strange tomorrow, when the Älvar High Council arrives. They will walk these halls with wishes and desires, and the halls will never be the same, I fear.”

22-Jul-2015 09:13:21 - Last edited on 22-Jul-2015 09:20:19 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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The general snorted, showing his disdain towards the statement. “They’ll just prance around in their fancy robes and groomed eyebrows. Your position in respect to them is strong and well grounded. Why are you worried?"

The Premier made his way over to the balcony. It had a lovely tan marbled rail to which he could lean on and view the city—miles of high rise structures, an ocean of incandescent colors enhanced by the powerful beams of the sun. A soft blue from the Eleuth River glistened like a thousand gems riding some breathing wave as the great water hugged the outskirts of the capitol.

“Circumstances change. Across the stars where our banners fly, commotion has stirred about that may challenge the sanctity of our resolve and dismantle the order we have attempted to structure.”

“How would we know the castle to be strong if powerful waves did not come crashing in to test its fortitude?” the general responded.

Paxennto managed to chuckle aloud—it was rarity that the work-consumed head senator found it in him to realize anything as humorous. “Are you a poet now, general?”

“I fancy myself capable. The Republic has only grown stronger as time has passed, foes have risen in our midst and fallen in it, as well. Here it stands still, the Sun; we do not quaver.”

“There was a time where we fell under a different name. It was not a Republic, I’m afraid.”

“Aye, the Empire, but that was a different time, old friend. Different people with different ideas.”

22-Jul-2015 09:13:22 - Last edited on 17-Aug-2015 01:43:43 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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The Premier’s appearance grew grim—he let an enduring sigh, indicating a sense of exhaustion. “There are those who do not make that discernment. To them, the Republic is synonymous with Empire; they view our actions as a parallel to conquest, not virtue and righteousness. Such a notion is not a minority either—you have told me this yourself. The cries stretch from Greyholm to Arnaude. Whispers flutter about even here, in the Capitol. And then, of course, the reports, if true, are-”

“Manageable, and to a lesser extent than you think, are these issues problematic. Greyholm, I’ll admit, it’s not pretty, but you have good friends in Arnaude. It is a petty fragmentation. A single man, I believe, with some zealous and childish followers who have mostly been neutralized.”

“Two men. Two men that are the product of our own mistakes. Those two men are brothers, those two men possess a sharp sense for warfare and an even stronger for discreet, shadow politics. We put them there. We mustn't forget how the decisions of the past influence the present."

"I don’t consider it a terribly fatal mistake to draw our attention elsewhere at this moment. Look no further than this city.”

“Indeed. Trust grows ever so thin here. Its lack of presence suffocates the air. The Senators are mouthpieces for the Privateers' interests; you can hear the damned coins practically dance in their pockets as they scurry about the Socratic Circle, pretending like all the world is a safe place.”

The general continued to revolve his pipe with his jaws in an oscillating motion. With each respective movement, the smoke coiled along its path. He gathered his thoughts for a moment. “You have help where it matters. Trust yourself. You are wise and seasoned by experience. You have the rare exception of being both a military and political master. The others do not. Push your will. Gather your Cabinet—you can trust them.”

22-Jul-2015 09:13:22 - Last edited on 17-Aug-2015 01:44:19 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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“You have good words, General. If it weren’t for your wisdom at my side, the political beast that lurks about would have swallowed me up by now and spat me out as something terrible and unrecognizable.”

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`
“The Suns, the Mothers of Life, the Herald of Illumination,

It falters not in the eyes of the unrighteous and malignant.

Children, we all are, to her Eternal Radiance. He who burdens

the mantle, to Defend and bring Justice, is the Walker of the Sun.

He is unmoved by the vicious, the malevolent, for He Knows

He strides in Her Light, and thus, is forever courageous and

Valiant.”

Like two magnificent pearl eyes carefully painted on the canvas sky of night by some brilliant and frabjous artist, the sister moons hung over Sunreign, grand and elegant as they gazed upon the Capitol like eyes of a loving mother. The city’s illumination was that of a fantastic gown dressed in a vast array of luminous gems piercing through the dark, etched in countless rubies and sapphires and shimmering emeralds. The river’s waves along the coast sung a gentle hymn. The dancing neon lights of iris and wine purples appeared as graceful ballet dancers as they glistened through the air.

Quite far from the bustling city streets, hidden from the nocturnal activities that filled the evening, The Cathedral of Verena, where the Order of the Sun resides, overlooked the city, still in its eternal meditation. Even in the shadow of the night, the golden obelisks sprung forth from the grand structure emitted a light of their own. There was a beautifully trimmed walkway—stone paved and lined with rigid bushes on each end.

22-Jul-2015 09:13:22 - Last edited on 19-Aug-2015 20:14:40 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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At the end of this walkway that occurred in the garden where various night insects hummed and fluttered and clicked an atmospheric symphony, a twirling staircase spiraled downward into a secluded enclave. It was from here the voice came.

*Yet, While the Walker possesses strong resolve,

It is for those who go beyond the call, fearless

In the fray, that may reach forth into Terminal.

The dark abyss that consumes both the Skies

And the Hearts of Beings, is to be met

With Unwavering Justice. Justice is Virtue.

Justice is the Hand of Good Credence.

Justice is to be Sought; and only the

Arch of us are fit to bring down the

Hammer upon the Wicked.”

It was a miniature coliseum—the combat grounds of the Order, where young and hopeful initiates would be hammered with blood and brass and will—where the Walkers would suffer to prove their prowess and resilience in order to gain the Sun’s grace—and become Justicators. On parallel sides of the ring were two great openings that led into long chambers. It was a shadowy hall, crypt like, except for the spherical orbs that protruded from the walls every ten yards, each of which emitted a white light. It let into a vast network underneath the Cathedral, one that was forbidden to all except the highest ranking members of the Order. Under here is where the Atonements occurred, and all rituals and customs paramount to the Order took place. Rituals that were, in the eyes of some, questionably frightening and perhaps ill-natured.

22-Jul-2015 09:13:23 - Last edited on 22-Jul-2015 09:25:33 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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The center was approximately twenty five yards in diameter—the same white stone took presence in both the seats and the walls that surrounded the circular structure. Towards the primary end, where the seats were arched up into a balcony and roofed by a red silk awning, sat Eileen Solaras on the far right, followed by the Premier, and the Lord Justicator and Herald of the Order, Cornelius Rexus. A small cabal of counselors and advisors surrounded these three high figures, with various guards in proximity. One of these counselors appeared particularly comfortable in his position—he grinned constantly, his eyebrows perched up in satisfaction, as if he was unendingly pleased with himself. He wore a fine charcoal colored tunic that neatly covered his neck, and a great cape that formed a pointed shield around his collar. His hair was dark and thin as silk, with silver threads shining in various spots. His beard was pointed and sharp, like some finely carved fang.

His black gloved hand rested on Paxennto’s shoulder as he kneeled in and whispered into his vicinity.

“Good council brings good news,”

“Counselor Marthis. I take it your visit to the Guilds was worth its time,” Paxennto responded quietly, slightly turning his head.

“Of course, High Senator. Failure is not my inclination.”

Paxennto’s tone dropped in depth, becoming more concerned, “Would I be a fool to assume secrecy is not in that inclination?”

Counselor Marthis' grinned widened, “that is the most significant of them all. Secrecy is my trade. The Guild Master’s have agreed to extend their contracts with the military.”

“At what cost? Tell me nothing of illegal promises or guaranteed senatorial votes, Marthis. I cannot have this position tainted by political ploys and corruption.”

22-Jul-2015 09:13:23 - Last edited on 22-Jul-2015 09:26:34 by tmac attack

tmac attack

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“Your purity is safe. Wit and logic has prevailed with the Privateers. Their drive for profit has been amplified by the coming visit of the Älvar tomorrow. I had properly convinced them that a maintenance of fair contracts would be rewarded by… “exterior factors” beyond the contract. I assured them many Älvarian investors would be more than interested in forming new agreements, agreements with heavily mutual benefits, protected by my...invisible hand of guidance. Such a long distance trip is simply too expensive to not reap opportunities. They were wise to bring a vast network of their own business masters here to spread their own seeds.”

“Did you intimidate them, Counselor Marthis?”

“Do I appear to you as intimidating?”

“One needs more than an appearance if one plans to sway the views of others. Words are powerful,” Counselor Marthis gave a short chuckle to express his agreeance.

“The Forge of Fire below this Ancient Structure

is the Birth Place of New Beginnings, and the Death

of Aged Stone. It is here we await for the Final Trial

of the Sunwalker Brutus Solaras to emerge Pure

and Renewed from the Hollow.”

" Do not allow their roots to spread too deep, Counselor,” the High Senator began once more.

“I will assure you transparency in the coming affairs. Nonetheless, the free market is an impeccable force that cannot be superseded totally. We are not tyrants here."

"Mmm, I concede. Some forces are best left alone. Though, I am not at all stirred up about what is to be asked of me tomorrow. The giant that will come from the sky in the morning will be too insistent to refuse, despite my beliefs. Its insistence is…unfortunately, warranted.”

“All giants can fall, High Senator.”

22-Jul-2015 09:13:23 - Last edited on 19-Aug-2015 20:17:09 by tmac attack

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