[Eliminator] The Kings Court

Quote: The scroll came not in the post, but by hand. A young man just out of his teens wearing formal robes and carrying a large book delivered it. It was written on parchment, and in written in an antiquated for calligraphy. The thin and yet meticulous pen strokes suggested a feather pen was used to write this and was being wielded by a very skilled hand. The letter read as such.

Dear Lady,

This tournament is full of ruffians, scoundrels, fiends, and worse. I fear that a woman as beautiful as yourself has yet, and may never receive the treatment she deserves in such an uncouth place. Indeed, I fear that a Lady of your caliber may never receive the treatment she deserves in this era.

You see, they say chivalry is dead. But I humbly beg to differ.

As such, I propose a meeting. A single evening in which you may experience the etiquette required by your gender. An evening, for you and your fellow financially afforded to enjoy the finer things in life courtesy of yours truly.

I would like to formally invite you to visit my kingdom. I suggest a meeting at sunset tomorrow. My servant Sir Mathias will give you the address.

Food and wine will be provided on arrival. I suggest you dress in your finest.

This was somewhat unbelievable. Like a dream or a fairy tale. From a Clocktower, to a Graveyard, to a Castle, from Alison Harmony, to Daisy Duke, to, well...

A Princess.

No expense had been spared on the dress or its accessories, and for some reason Alison felt more uncomfortable in that then she had in the cut off shorts and the pre-game dinner gown. It swished, for one thing, the layers of silk draped below her hips giving her a slightly floaty look. Which she supposed was a blessing, as it hid the rig for her halberd, straped to the side of one shapely thigh, as well as the bandage that secured her signifigant leg wound.

The gems in her hair sparkled, and were mirrored in the belt that divided the line between gown and a wedding. She had expected quite a few things when she saw the gown. A fat woman with wings offering wishes. A pumpkin shaped coach. Rats that sang. And unfortunate footwear.

What she got was taste and eloquence and white, lots of virginal white. White limo with the dress inside, white bag, white shoes. Green jewelry, but those little accents just made the whole thing seem that much more personal. Screw contractual obligations, she'd been given emeralds. Alison was a princess for a small space of time, and the little girl that lives in every woman was cooing at her to just accept it.

So here she was, slightly wary, and cold and walking into a kings court, reflected in every mirror and polished metal that seemed to litter the whole round. The only thing that still made her Alison, was the blackrimmed glasses perched on her nose, which she was determined not to push up out of nervous habit.

At least this time, perhaps, she wouldn't have to duck for her life. There was plenty of open room to this place. Lots of expensive room.

This King's Court did not disappoint. It was everything one might expect and more, and very easily lead one to expect bards, jesters, and ladies and lords to pour through the entrance and begin a formal celebration.

Candle light was the theme of the evening, no electric bulbs but wavering and dancing flames on a porcelain white wax cylinders made up the difference. Music wafted through the room like a breeze, soft, formal, and played on nothing more complex than a violin. Gold sparkled, silver glimmer, banners even waived baring an unknown family crest. The floors made of large marble tiles each able to fit an average man laying down inside a single square, and sixteen squares fit perfectly from one wall to the other, thirty squares ran down its length. And, on either side of the room, were tables lined with delectable dishes and culinary delights. There was more food than four people could possibly eat. There was more food than thirty people would likely eat. For the sake of manners there was even a golden wash bowl and towels at the foot and crown of each table.

And as promised, there was wine, there was liquor, ale, as well as several other bottles not even labeled, or sporting labels that were written an a foreign tongue. As a matter of professional pride, not a single beverage was younger than anyone standing in the room.

Of all the amenities provided, only two things were missing. One, was electricity. There were no wall outlets, no plugs, no wires, no bulbs. And more notably two, there were no people. No jesters. No servers. No bards to play.

Beside Sol and Miss Harmony, the King's Court was devoid of life.

At the far side of the room opposite the door, a dozen or so feet away from the wall and centered sat two statues. The first of which was an angel, a gorgeous creature with outstretched wings turned dramatically to the side with its hair blown back by outstretched wings. She occupied the entirety of the square with her wings high enough to be over the head of anyone present. The statue was carved from marble or porcelain or some sort of purest white stone and the carver had not missed even a single detail. There were strands of hair and folds in her clothes that one expected to move in the wind. Her hands were delicately placed on what appeared to staff that was angled down toward her feet. Only if one followed the staff to her bare feet did one notice that just above her two foot tall pedestal was the large curved blade of the implement in her hands. A scythe. The blade, while as inert as her entire form seemed just as alive.

The second statue however, was a lie. In that it was truth no statue at all, but infact a clever ruse which functioned exactly like a statue. It was a man in full plate armor standing very formally before a luxuriously ornate thrown. It was a judge, sporting a silver crown and a black furred cape that sloped down one shoulder and was tied in silver rope. A sword lie sheathed at his side, the pommel of which held one hand. And a scepter lie in his other. And he was motionless.

The King Judge, his statue, and his throne lie in a half of the court that was barred off with a filigree fence and guarded at its front by two motionless and clearly empty suits of armor with their arms extended and their halberds crossed to bar entry.

It wasnt until a few moments after Sol entered that the King moved. The angel had its face angled so desperately toward him. His gauntlet adorned hand rose from his sword, gems shimmered on the rings he wore and then his hand softly cupped the angel's face and he said.

"Our guests are arriving my dearest Azraeli, may I say that you look absolutely astonishing tonight?"

The angel did not move or respond in any way what so ever, but that did not stop the judge from chuckling, nodding and saying.

"Yes, yes of course."

In reply. And then his crowned head turned toward his newest guests and spoke. His voice echoed as if from a microphone although there were no visible spearkers.

"Guests! Guests! You have arrived. I am honored. Allison, you look as beautiful as I would have hoped and Sol, I see you have come as prepared as I eagerly expected."

The King's armored hands cupped each other and he bowed ever so slightly.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable. The festivities will not formally begin until your companions arrive, but dont let that stop you from enjoying yourself. My kingdom, is at your disposal."

And then the judge sat very formally in his throne, his sword between his legs and his scepter across his lap. And he fell still, and silent.

Sol felt Allison brush up against him, his grin had faded but had not been extinguished entirely as he looked down at her. She was close for only a second before she moved towards the table. She really didn’t need to say anything because though she had meant something different it merely acted to reinforce both of their internal thoughts different as they may be.

As Allison moved away from him Sol spoke up, not a witty comment, one far more serious. Those who didn’t know about Sol and his typical professionalism when he wasn’t being paid to goof off and hit things would have misinterpreted it as a slight at the smaller woman.

“Take small bites.”

The tone was steel hard though, in the same sort of tone you’d expect Sol to warn someone to duck or watch where they step without making a scene. In truth it actually was a warning as Sols eyes danced around the room. Though whether it was merely Sol’s paranoia or his continuing uncertainty considering the odd situation they had found themselves was hard to tell.

Sol himself waited for Allison to approach the table, though Sol had no intention of taking a seat, at his height it wasn’t always easy to stand up as quickly as he’d would like and with Admiral Ackbar screaming in the back of his head he was far too paranoid to just relax into a seat and eat food from a strangers table.

As he walked to the table he looked at all the candles that ringed the room, their flames flickering gracefully, the light reflecting off the marble and precious metals producing an awful lot of glare considering the lack of natural or electrical lights. This made Sol grimace, in low light glints and glare were some of the only warnings one could get sometimes and here he was surrounded by it.

He reached the table, more specifically the section containing the largest amount of alcohol and began sorting through them reading the labels he could setting the wine and sweet liquors to one side and hording the high proof liquor together into a small group than removed his belt (the suspenders being attached to the pants not his belt) and wrapped it around the bottles making a secured group so that you couldn’t lift one without lifting all of them at once.

He smiled at Alison before responding, in a joking tone.

“Id rather the boss not miss the festivities because he enjoyed our hosts hospitality a bit too much.”

Sol let out a hardy deep laugh and moved the grouping of bottles to the side as if to dismiss them from his and hopefully his bosses mind.

"Where's the trust Sol?" A sardonic voice from the enterance way, silhouetted by the sundown outside.

I used to dress in black every night.

Quote: Dear Lord Brown,

I have come to see that in this most modern of era, you are a king of sorts. Perhaps you do not own a large share of land, but you certainly own a large share of people. And the format of this tournament as well as the advancement of your tea proves that your resources can most definitely fund you a most wonderful set of servants.

I am a King as well you see, and yet that is where our similarities end. And yet our difference need not be our distance.

As such, I propose a meeting of royalties. The sort of meeting that seems to so scarcely occur. I would like to formally invite you to visit my kingdom. I suggest a meeting at sunset tomorrow. My squire young Adrian will give you the address.

Food and wine will be provided on arrival. I suggest you arrive sober, you may need your wits about you.

Joseph had read the letter at least fifty times since he received it. He had never been more excited, he knew exactly what this meant, and he was living for it at this point. He looked out the window as the limousine meandered through the countryside and put the letter down. They never held impromptu parties for the competitors, it was pretty much an identical smokescreen to what they had done in previous years. In an oddly parallelled sequence of events he refused to have Agent do any searching, he made no guesses, he wanted to be suprised.

But something happened to me.

All he did was act on his gut and prepare himself. He picked up a glass of sparkling water and sipped it. Not just for what he expected, but for the unexpected. He let his mind drift over the clouds and sunset before finding the limo coming to a stop and the CEO practically kicking open the door.

And now... I dress in white.

The backdrop of sun faded and Joseph stepped into the grand hall with the strut of a man with a mission. Joseph had dressed himself entirely in slightly odd white tuxedo. The jacket was long, the tails almost robe like but the rest was the full set: waistcoat, pants, double Windsor tied necktie, white leather briefcase, a folded silvery handkerchief in his pocket, and grey tinted glasses. Even the adjuster gloves and boots were repainted white and polished to a shine, blending into the outfit as they were the latest fashion accessory. Hell, Joseph had neglected to dye his hair it's normal colour after Damnatus' warp tainting. He quite literally matched head to toe. His reasoning.

It would show the blood better.

He didn't say a word until his shoes tap tapped their way passed the rest of his team casually. Nodding quietly first to Snoogins and then to Sol as he passed. Last to arrive, being the fashionably late mogul he was. He made his way to the table near Allison, giving her a smile and another nod as he came close, and pulled one of the ornate cushioned chairs and dragged it out onto the open floor with an attention getting scrape. Positioning the chair directly across from the armoured man, right in eye line. He fanned the tails out from the jacket and took a reclining seat on the chair, dropping the briefcase in front of his feet.. He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, and fiddled with the silver cuff links that displayed a stylized alpha and epsilon. One elbow on the arm of the chair, and the hand indirectly attached to that elbow on his cheek. He rolled his neck, looking at the bunch of his teammates and then grinned like an idiot.

"I'm on my best behaviour tonight. I can guarantee you that I'm as sober..." He pushed his back against the chair, reaching up and removing his tinted glasses to put them in his pocket. Turning his bare gaze directly on the armoured man, "As a judge."

YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

"A pleasure to be invited to your kingdom good sir." He was grinning still but his voice betrayed no sarcasm. Joseph seemed to be sincere for once, "And with all this finery and pomp I do dearly hope that our customs aren't too different from one and the other."

He raised his foot up to rest a white shoe on top of the briefcase.

"A gift from one monarch to the other?" The subtle curl of his lip could be felt through the room, "A show of good faith on my part, perhaps."

Well, the gang's all here. Now it is time to see what this show is really about. Snoogins had a feeling there wasn't going to be some big party with fun for all. Sol was tense, Miss Harmony was looking absolutely stunning and the boss man was doing.. well what he did best.

Snoogins though? You'd think by now he would have been into the drinks but for some reason Sol had lashed them all together. This had made him a bit twitchy. Also everyone kept staring at the statues so that is where he focused his attention as well.

Inhaling on his cigarette it flashed red in the dim light before he stopped and it died down a bit. He took it out of his mouth and exhaled slowly through his mouth, making a slight whistling sound. He replaced the cig into his mouth and tried to relax a bit but in this current atmosphere it was a bit impossible.

Whatever they were going to do he wished they would just get it over with already.

Everything so far was reminding him of chess. He hated the game... The last time he tried to play chess he ended up punching the guy in the face and just taking his wallet.

Looking at the squares and listening to the judge he had a feeling that the Key was the king, feather queen and the other two must be knight and rook. At least he hoped so. That might be as far as the similarities went. He would find out soon enough at least.

With a half hearted sigh he removed his cigarette and let it drop to the floor where he crushed it out with his foot. Seemed the boss and Miss Harmony had their palces picked for them.

"If no one minds..."

Making his way over to the squares he planted his feet firmly on the one barring the shield symbol.

".. let's get this over with."

"Compliments, compliments." The shiny metallic footwear fell from the briefcase, "You're the one showing us a good time here. Honour is all ours."

Joseph rose from his seat and grabbed the briefcase. Hanging back slightly to aligin with the rest of his team and particularly turning to Sol with a grin, even though there was a look of concern behind his eyes.

"I somehow think Sol, that our means are going to align very very quickly today." He stepped under the now spread poleaxes, "Try not to let too much of me rub off on you. I like you the way you are."

Joseph listened and looked. First to the armoured fellow, and then to Snoogins. His first look was to Miss Harmony, as for all her many many talents he was sure the reaction to personal honour would be priceless. Always taking the initiative in his own sort of roughshot way that fellow. Still, they needed to be careful in this situation.

"Now don't be too hasty." He spoke to Snoogins as if it was polite conversation but his look and tone spoke more about keeping abreast of the situation, "Let's hear everything out before we want to get it done with."

Then to Sol.

"That said." He grinned, "You can never be too hasty to kick some a**."

Joseph's next glance was to the black armoured gentleman. As if to accept the honour of being his opposite he grasped his wrist with his hand and gave a slight bow and stepped forward onto the key. Now of course, while he was doing that his fingers undid one of the cufflinks to allow access to the Adjuster panels, turning the machines to their prep mode.

"As I said gentle king." A grin and a nod, "Honour is mine."

“Then honored we are and honorably we shall proceed.”

And the King Judge bowed.

“Please don't move, I wouldn’t want you to lose anything. Now, let us begin.”

And then he blew, a sharp short breath, and all the candles went out. And then the room was black. Every guest in attendance would feel it, the rush of cold air, the gritting and grinding sound of steel passing against steel and slicing through air. A steel sheet whizzed by here, another there, a rasp here. And occasionally a few undefined lengths of metal would touch against skin. Sometimes it would stay but other times it simply whizzed past.

“I do not believe it would be fair to simply challenge to a game of fisticuffs, such a thing has been done and overdone. And I have promised a few of you a more restful and eloquent experience…”

The whirring motion began to slow, there was motion now, feet rushing and clothes rustling against one another. No voices, no breathes.

“That is why tonight, I would like to challenge you all to a contest of strength, skill, and intellect. Rest assured, there will be conflict, there will be blood…”

And there was light. Up above they rolled in like fireflies, a thousand thousand tiny points of illumination. Stars creating a night sky were a vaulted ceiling once stood. Small dark clouds rolled past the light, so dim that only flecks of metal were visible at first.

Intermingled in Lord Brown’s company were strangers. Directly beside Mr. Brown stood a man with a briefcase, gray-pale skin, dark hair and a book in his hands which read “Gaian Municipal Laws and Codes” This man was a lawyer. Another matching man stood beside the Lady Harmony. And beside that man, further on Lady Harmony’s side were three very familiar individuals. Namely there was a very pale Snoogins, and an even more pale Sol. In front of Lord Brown’s company were men in suits wielding briefcases and glasses. Each man was identical. Each man wore a name tag sporting the name “Yes”. Lord Brown was now joined by fifteen friends.

A white tiara had found its way atop Miss Harmony’s head. She was right about being royalty…but tonight she was not a princess. She was a queen.

A white shield found its way onto Snoogin’s arm, along with a sword that rest inside of it ready to be drawn. Not only a gentleman, but a gentleman Knight.

And finally two large white gauntlets slipped cold along the arms of Sol, spiked knuckles dimly reflected light, their purpose clear enough. His function simple, direct, and yet perfect in that simplicity.

And lastly, but not least a rather ornate white gold crown rest upon Lord Joseph Brown's head. Really, while this may have been the first time he wore an actual crown, he had been king for a while. And while the crown was visible now...it had really always been there.

And then steadily curling from the outside the moon can into view. It was large, and shined a bright light on all who were in attendance. All thirty two. The King Judge had an army all his own. At its front were eight children all wielding small swords and shields. Behind them, at the back corners were two actual black stone towers with four slits in each cardinal direction six feet or from which peered a set of shy violet eyes. The Rook’s Aldrick and Henry. Beside these were two woman wielding very large swords, breastplates, helms, greaves and gauntlets. The Knight’s Kelly and Marie. They were joined by two men in flowing robes also holding very large books, the Bishop’s Jacob and Mathias. Mathias appeared to be eating something. The members of Lord Brown’s army might remember some of their messengers. The King grinned, shadows played across his features blotting out everything save for an outline.

“There will be a war. I challenge you…”

He was wearing something, something less than moments ago. And then steadily curling from the outside the moon can into view. It was large, and shined a bright pale light on all who were in attendance. The King stood noble. He wore a midnight black breastplate, black britches, black boots and a jet black crown rest upon navy blue hair. His sword rested tip down in front of him, his scepter was thrust out proudly toward Joseph Brown. His fur caped whipped dramatically with the sudden motion, a smile tore its way across the King’s pale face. It stretched from ear to ear and all the way up to his mismatched eyes.

“...to a game of Chess."

As he spoke the depth and warble of his voice faded leaving a voice far more human and yet no less proper. And then, Maximos Lucillien Dark offered the members of Team Never Know’s Best, the most formal bow he could muster. Which was very formal indeed, complete with arm motion and all.

“Now, the rules of this engagement are very simple. The armor granted each of you will demand of you that you move in accordance with your pieces movement pattern. No cheating.” The scepter pointed rather directly at Mr. Brown. Maximos grinned as bright as could. It seemed all of the formality was kept, and yet the serious had faded somewhat. “When one of you meets one of mine there will be a small conflict. A battle. The first of you to land a hit will destroy the struck piece…or if you prefer…”

“…Eliminate them. This rule does not apply to Pawns. Or Bishops. Both will be slain in accordance with normal Chess rules. Each of you, save for Lady Harmony and Lord Brown are represented twice on the board. If both of your pieces are defeated, you in turn are eliminated via the Heaven or Hell rules and procedures. And if Lord Brown is eliminated…you are all eliminated and the decision as to who does not proceed and who does not…well let us hope it does not come to that.” Maximos’ smile twisted on the edges and took on a sort of sinister angle in the moonlight. “Continuing on, if any of you, save for Lord Brown as a King never kills a King and man not move into check, are put in a position in which you may attack myself you are welcome to try even without the use of check and check mate standards. If you land a successful hit you are all victorious. Although I will warn you…”

Maximos kicked the sword in front of him flipping it twice in the air before catching it and resting it over his shoulder. “It will be very unlikely any single one of you can land a hit on me before sustaining one…I suggest you coordinate your turns and strike as a group.”

“Now!” The scepter gestured to Lord Brown sharply. “Speaking of turns, white always moves first. Lord Brown will give a command and one of you may move, or any one of you can choose to move of your own accord. Then it will be my turn, I will issue a command moving one of my pieces…so forth…so on…You understand right?” Maximos gave no chance for anyone to answer. “Good! Then we may begin.”

And then with a flick of his cape over his shoulder Maximos sat formally in his throne. He sat with purpose and ease as if slipping less into a seat and more into a well earned prize. This was the fruit of so very much work. “I know the game format has been done, I borrowed it from our mutual friend Lord Joseph Brown…but I really enjoyed it. And even if I as unable to replicate it perfectly, I added my own twists, and turns and swapped steel magic for my own brand of arcana and…decided months of preparation.”

Having fully rest his back in the seat Maximos let out a small sigh. He took a deep breath, and let it out slow. This was it, this was the moment. The hardest part was over. Max twist so that instead of sitting properly, he was sitting sideways with his back against one arm of the throne, his leg over the other, and his other leg resting on the floor. He looked almost child-like, far too at home. His sword hilt leaned lazily on his midsection, it blade tip on the ground. His scepter stood beside him resting over his shoulder, and in his hand he scooped up a goblet from a table beside his throne and sloshed its contents around. His crown tilted a bit on his head, but he didn’t seem to mind. The best friends money can buy, versus the best soldiers magic can make. Maximos gestured his hand outwards toward Joseph, holding the goblet between his fingers with his palm up. His hands wriggling, rapping against the silver metal cup. “Tell me…”

The dark clad man said, turning his head to look down his arm at the opposing king.

“How do you like it now?”

"It is...liberating, for certain."

They had given him no limits save for his imagination, and that was an incredibly dangerous limitation indeed. No picky customers changing colors and shapes and functions. No need to concern himself with anything other than giving those he was placed against a good fight, and or a vicious finish at his discretion. In the end, all the Shadow really wanted was a show as spectacular and thrilling as he had received not but a year earlier. The very fact that said spectacle was in a large way so thrilling came because of how close he came to death well...Maximos chuckled softly to himself. Mr. Brown made the very first move of the game, and a suited man turned to him and said, "Yes sir". Its voice was oddly inhuman and echoed as it came down a very long hallway before being heard. And then it nodded and moved accordingly.

This was, with every passing second, proving to be a very good decision. Maximos had distinctly selected Never Knows Best, and while at first he had doubts regarding a set of new faces not a single member of the time had disappointed. Everyone present either on the field or beside it had shown intelligence and strategy. Be it knowing when and how to throw a punch, or what direction to sway your opponent towards. Even in a mindless brawl their minds worked. And while each may not be a master tactician...Maximos knew first hand that their leader was. He was expecting, him. He wondered momentarily if that meant that the gift in the briefcase was not, as he originally assumed, intended for an actual King but was meant for him after all.

Regardless, Maximos very graciously accepted the compliment that followed with a bow, or at least as much of a bow as a seated man could give. His mismatched eyes, a black left and white right, slipped all the way to the left and back to the right. It was more than obvious that as the opposing King and the inspiration for this event that Lord Brown received some measure of special attention, but Maximos was nothing if not a gracious host. All of his guests required attention and so he passed his gaze over all of them, making sure each was as comfortable or uncomfortable as intended. The sight made him nod a few times and albeit ever so slightly.

Maximos leaned forward, picking up his scepter and twirling it like a baton before it came to rest on the shoulder of the small boy directly in front of him. The boy turned to meet his gaze with a quizzical expression on his face. "Edward, our borders are threatened. Please advance to the fifth."

Maximos' eyes did not linger on the child before Joseph's voice called his attention back.

"Excellent!", he cheerily replied, "I am so very glad you approve."

And the boy advanced, giving the opposing pawn a stern stare as he stepped forward two squares and then stopped, his jaw set and his eyes locked. This was his mean face, the suited pawn did not seem phased. Madness he said? This is Aria. And Maximos, in turn, very deliberately replied.

"I'll do my very best."

-|-

Meet like with like.

Needless to say the suited man's inhuman voice resonated slightly with Joseph. There was a point you started toning out the yes-men, you had to in business otherwise you'd stagnate. Everything one man does can't be great, you need voices of reason to tell you when you were being dumb. Joseph treaded that line a lot. He surrounded himself with people like Agent, Claire, Alison, and Sol. Each one likely to dissent from his own opinion, and present what potentially could be a good idea. Snoogins too, really. Only his dissenting opinion often came down to what bars were good, and how much violence was necessary. However the yes-men were not useless. You just had to point their unending enthusiasm in the right direction. A slight detour to the side to take care of some business, a divergence from their normal content path forward and forward towards their eventual goal of promotion. Maybe by the end of it all they'd learn something and be more like Sol, Snoogins or Allison.

Yes. They were a lot like pawns to make the metaphor obvious.

"Your time will come ice queen." Joseph without looking at Alison spoke, almost feeling her will boiling up, "This isn't all about me. Hey! Snoogs, buddy!"

He gave a shout off to his right side looking at one of the two Mr. Whites. Uncrossing his arms and then pointing to a square.

"Once you get used to being two places at once, mind giving a mosey to F3?" He made a little flourish and snap to his direction, "I'd appreciate it quite a bit and you're starting to look like you need to get out there. I'm positive our friends out front will let you by."

There was a veritable army in front of him, and every one of them could potentially eliminate a teammate, or worse, eliminate them all. Joseph was by far not the best chess player, but at the very least he had three other minds to help him out on this one. However, his opponent was Maximos, not the kids or the big guys or the wizardey looking fellows. On his own Mr. Dark was a difficult enough foe, powerful as he was clever. But with Noah's wallet and a page from Mr. Brown's own book... Well, to use a cliche: the unexpected was the only thing to expect. No, Joseph Brown wasn't the best chess player, but he had ideas.

"Maximos?" He called out from the other side of the board, once again fixating on the reclining man. It wasn't a panicked tone, nor was it the formal tone used before. It had settled to the more friendly off-kilter tone Joseph always seemed to use around friends, "What do you know about chess variants?"

Diagnostics_

BAT 100% [^0% V0%]_

VIT Royal_

M/O/B Fire/Dark/Air_

Pawns 8/8

Bishops 2/2

Sol 2/2

Snoogins 2/2

Alison 1/1

It started with Alison, not only because Maximos was a gentleman and she was a lady but also because the change in her posture and attitude was almost a palpable thing. And then that look in her eyes, it spoke of thought it spoke of recognition. Maximos chuckled.

"Oh I know that look Ms. Harmony." He said, gesturing toward her with his scepter as if it were a pointer of sorts. "Fear not, the crown rather suits you, and I am nothing like my nightmarish reputation." And then Maximos' head shifted in just the right angle for the shadows to play along his face in an odd sort of way that very silently said, I'm worse.

Maximos was not foolish enough to see fear in the woman, but goading the fire couldnt hurt could it? And the Shadow said nothing else, content to let the moment set and observe. He remained absolutely silent as Snoogins advanced, as the white pawns parted without so much as a word only a series of affirming nods and thumbs up, and finally as the White Knight came to rest. He noted...albeit without showing, the comment The Fine Gentleman Knight Snoogins had made. Hated Chess? Really now? Something had to be done about that. But before something could, Lord Brown was speaking.

"Maximos?" He called out from the other side of the board, Maximos' met the opposing King's and he nodded. Still grinning and indelible grin. There was a lip smacking sound beside him that he tried his best to ignore. A mutual sort of respect and camaraderie was present in Joseph's tone, and as such was present in Maximos'. "Yes Lord Brown?"

"What do you know about chess variants?" Max almost immediately cocked an eyebrow. Chew, chew, chew. "Variants?"

His head rolled slightly to the side. "They've made variants? Isnt that --" He paused. Chew, chew, chew. One black leather gloved hand lifted, Maximos' spoke as he turned his head to the left. "--excuse me."

"Noct damnit Mathias!" He hissed. The black square bishop beside him suddenly froze in place realizing he was caught. "Stop eating those damned eggs!" With a nervous twitched he dropped the three hard boiled eggs he was balancing in his hands. His eyes stood affixed on his King as he awkwardly used a foot to slid the ruined food stuff under his long flowing robes. Frank, the pawn in front of him, giggled.

Maximos sighed a long sigh and gestured out across the field. "That Gentleman Knight is moving past their defensive line. He aims to slay Edward." The Bishop's eyes snapped open with sudden alertness. He looked at Edward, the boy had his shield raised and his sword drawn. His face said he was expecting the worse, however the literally shaking in his boots made evident by the jingle of chain mail said otherwise. Mathias looked back, concern and determination solidifying his features into something far more resolute. The injustice of it all, who would slay a child? Max continued. "And yet, he seems displeased with our war. Proceed to C5. In the name of the Shadowfather's Mercy, prepare to liberate him from his torture."

The Bishop Mathias advanced and Maximos turned his attention back to Joseph. He spoke with formality and yet warmth, despite the obvious doubts written on his face Maximos was curious. Very curious. "My apologies, as I was saying, isnt that something like creating a variant air? Or water? Can such a purity truly be made into a successful variant?"

-|-

Maximos listened long and well, as was his custom. Joseph was speaking of something entirely new in concept. A variant? A bigger board, more pieces? Could it really be called Chess then? It could be based off of Chess but was it truly the game itself? To a die hard fan such as the Shadow was, this concept seemed blasphemous. Maximos could never imagine involving himself in something like that.

Lord Brown made a command, and Maximos' eyes only flitted away from the other man long enough to watch the pawn begin its motion, and then returned as the White King continued.

"Isn't that what you've created here?" Maximos' face immediately went blank.

Was that what he had done? Had he created a mockery of one of his favorite games? Had he steeped himself in blasphemy. No! But Joseph's point rang true all the same. This was not standard Chess. This was something more, and bigger, and better. Wasnt it? Heaven or Hell certainly would not have been satisfied if Maximos had simply whipped out a checkered board and a chair and challenged Never Knows Best would it? Of course not. "I suppose your right..."

And yet he could not shake the idea Lord Brown was getting at something. Nonetheless, the Shadow's hand moved to cup his chin, he was silent for a good long moment staring forward at the Angel in front of him, and then at the board proper.

And then something happened. The Yes Pawn had moved up beside its twin, leaving two twin suited men to stand before Edward the Pawn. While Maximos sat thinking there was a shrill almost female outcry and Edward dove forward at a sharp angle. His shield led the charge, pressing the White Pawn's briefcase into it before it could be drawn. And then before Max could shout No!, steel rasped against steel and Edward's blade scrapped against the shield's edge stabbing out and into the suited Pawn's gut. The taller pawn doubled over and Edward stabbed again, and again, screaming like the panicked child he was. Black blood sprayed from stab after stab, and with every stab came a scream that cut through the room like sharp thunder, echoing off the precious stones and expensive metals. After a few gurgled cries the white pawn finally fell over onto his back at which point Edward leaped onto it and continued stabbing until it dissolved into black dust and vanished.

The little boy was shaking, his knees wobbling with equal parts terror and anger. The moment was short lived, without glancing back he stood up and sharply turned to face the second White Pawn, and Knight Snoogins. His blood stained face locked with silent intensity. Mathias reached out to help, but stopped, both the robed young man, and the small boy staring warily at The Gentleman Knight Snoogin's. When one of you meets one of mine there will be a small conflict. A battle. The first of you to land a hit will destroy the struck piece...or if you prefer...eliminate them. This rule does not apply to Pawns. Or Bishops. And yet something in his eyes said Edward would not just let the man have his square so easily. The White Knight would have to take it.

"Ah, damn." Said Max in the tone of a man that had just lost a bet for roughly five dollars. He glanced at Mr. White and back to his pawn. And then as sort of an after thought he added. "I'm sorry Edward."

Yes, Joseph's army did not have quite as much personality, but at least they couldnt do that. At least...the Bishop's and the Pawn's couldnt. No one truly spoke for the other members of his team or their doubles, save for themselves. And whatever influenced them to, or not to act. And who really knew the power of words better than the two King's present. So maybe except for the drones they could do that. A bit of a wild card there. Max sighed and shrugged. "I suppose first blood goes unexpectedly to me then. Your move, Lord Brown."

It was a war out there. And it was being waged on many fronts. Kill or be killed. Everyone had just witnessed a little boy had becoming a killer. And now, it was likely only a matter of time before they watched a little boy be killed. Chess was war, and war...it was never a pretty thing.

-|-

For a moment the only sounds were of a pawn carving the hell out of another. It rang out in a moment of clarity for Alison, and her eyes hardened, far more stable then she had been earlier. There was a difference between what she had seen and felt now to what had happened before. And Josephs words couldn't have rung truer to her in that moment.

If Maximos thought war was brutal, he'd never been on the other end of a few corportate size issues. That was the real modern warfare, these days. And no amount of magically inclined getups and warriors was going to change that. And these children spilling magical blood had thrown down the glove. They were pawns now in this game, and the only way to stop them was to carve out the controller.

All good plans came in parts.

"The even changing face of the world I won't expect you to fade Maximos." He made a dramatic gripping gesture towards the other king and dropped it to his side, "I'd only expect it to make you burn."

The the dramatic stepping forward of Mathias, a man with cold determination and commitment in his eyes. The speech. The speech leading to attack was right up there with "going through the fire" when it comes to things that one starts to expect living on Gaia. So much so that Joseph threw his arms up in the air in exasperation, and sure enough moments later the spell began to form. Joseph wasn't going to ruin Mathias moment in the spotlight. The CEO listened to every word and looked a bit disturbed as the bishop continued on. The sword formed fully and just for a moment it looked like he may have done just as the bishop commanded. Until he spoke.

"Never is a strong word Mathias." And grabbed the briefcase to roll forward one square as the spell exploded behind him. Then there was something strange, Mathias probably smelled something burning.

--- Moments ago --- --- ---

Joseph had called the bishop move the turn before, two possible moves, two possible reactions and either way he would be in check and needed a plan. Planning was what Joseph was good at. While talking with Maximos he made a gesture and spoke a keyword for his Adjuster glove, causing it to start piping a flammable goop into his hand. Before Mathias had begun Joseph threw his hands in the air with an underhanded motion, causing the ball to catch alight and then roll towards Mathias, settling into a puddle just as he began to summon. That puddle in turn would catch Mathias' flowing robes alight.

--- --- --- ---

"A sermon about choice." Joseph's tone had gone down and he gave a one note laugh, "Of all things choice. I can't deny what you said Mathias, but I can tell you some truths. This game isn't about the defence of borders, its a show for a tournament that's as much a bloodsport as it is a marketing exercise. What's evil? My command to help my friends survive, or the fact that your king has taught children to KILL in the name of HoH, the victory and money that you hate so much. Moreover, the rules state that a battle begins when squares are threatened and the first hit wins. Your attack missed, and mine hit before I stepped out of the square. Think for a moment which king is compelling you to burn

to death."

Upon speaking the words the white king turned to the trembling pawn closest to him, his keyword already filling the glove with black liquid.

"Edward." His tone had taken on a quality that most people would declare regal as he lowered his gaze, "Moments ago I was called a monster, and not too long ago I equated you with one as well. I apologize, but I believe this allows us to talk as equals and I hope you'll hear me out. The last truth Mathias is missing is that he tried to claim he had no choice, when clearly without his king's command he moved forward and attacked. The fact is that you've been taught the rules of a game and been told it's war, a horrible distraction from the fact that you were created to die... And here's the hilarious part kid, Mathias was right about one thing: There's no difference between my creation and yours, the only thing guaranteed to me is that I'm going to die as well."

Joseph began to laugh and straighten his suit after the roll, placing the case down once more. His tone was increasingly gentle and human, an injection of weakness in his laughing acknowledgement of his mortality.

"You want a sermon on choice? Make it short and sweet. A death without choice is meaningless, and choice is a better indication of life than breathing. Mathias is trying to tell me that you have no choice but to be here, that that's what you were created and taught for. I can't possibly believe that Edward. Kid, I've seen a lot from you folks on the other end of the board. Fear from you, impatience from your knight friend, and righteousnesses from the old man back there. Signs of life. Edward, it takes a much more powerful force than gods or kings to make life without choice."

He shook his head and keep looking at the boy, a smile coming to his lips.

"Your king's best move is to move you forward so I can't attack the queen. I'm prepared and apparently emotionless, there's not a whole lot of doubt that I can spike this orb of fire to your square when you put me in check, but I'll still have to move. Movement is really the only thing truly restricted here. I know you want to save your Queen, Edward. Unlike you though she was made a statue, a ploy of a different sort. The most powerful piece is the queen, and there's no doubt in my mind that scythe will come down on anyone who blunders close thinking her a statue." He loosened his tie until the knot came undone, "But do you have to die in fire so she can live? The theory that you have no choice states that you're moving forward, being a martyr for the cause."

Joseph drew a heavy breath as the tie slid out from his collar.

"Perhaps that's courageous sacrificing yourself like that. But the true courage is in choice. If you want to step forward then choose it, but also realize that you may have been taught to see your liberator as an invader, such is war." He held out both his hands for Edward to see. In one hand the black orb that could be fire at a moments notice, in the other Joseph's white tie, "Or you could turn around and send a message that, as Mathias said, there truly is no difference between the creator and the created. You could even save a life, an old soul trapped so much by the bonds of these choiceless rules that he's restricted from taking off his burning clothes. Hell kid, you could save everyone here."

"Either way." Joseph had noticed something that Maximos and Mathias said. He gave a half glance to the black king as he spoke, "Noct save the queen."

In love and war the good stamp out their opponents advantages, while the great turn them around.

Diagnostics_

BAT 82% [^2% V20%]_

VIT Royal_

M/O/B Fire/Dark/Air_

Pawns 7/8

Bishops 2/2

Sol 2/2

Snoogins 2/2

Alison 1/1

"Protects from what?" A single note laugh, "Not from fire obviously."

Matthias was burning and wasn't doing anything about it. The whole scene was all to visceral, all too horrible, all too designed for that purpose. There was no reason to show someone burning to death, not for a tournament. The smell people say is the worst part, but there was something about the screaming something that made Joseph cringe. It wasn't the screaming of the martyr monk stoically burning, but rather the desperate cries of someone who expected a completely different outcome. The whole thing caused Joseph to clutch onto that tie and grip against the ball. The first going to his side as his hands fell limply to his side, the other falling on the ground with a plop as it was never ignited.

"I don't know Maximos." He looked up and fought a grin, "My actions were deliberate, but far from fatal. A tragic accident, easily avoidable if it wasn't for someone who wanted to put on a very morbid show."

"How easy kings can become tyrants." His tone sounded a bit lazy as he raised his tie up and looked at it, "One day it's duty, the next it's arbitrary. Your blood, created or not, would be boiling if Mathias had knocked over a candle but was forbidden to pat out the flames as punishment. But isn't that just happened? A man could have been saved an agonizing death if he only was allowed to stop, drop and roll. Something we're taught as children... Well..."

He made a sweeping gesture to the pawns.

"If only safety wasn't prioritized over swordplay, that is." He looked down at the pitiful sight of Edward, and let the tie fall out of his hand with a little toss, gracefully falling down in front of the boy, "You did good kid, you deserve a rest. You don't actually have one, but you deserve it. "Lay down your arms" isn't "go home and play" it isn't, "leave the board" it isn't "live". Your still one command from being metaphysically yanked from the ground and being forced to march forward. You've been spared as it's convenient and the alternate option isn't."

Sometimes a burnt out worker, no matter how stressed and overworked, didn't need to be left alone. No that would just stew them in their own stress, shometimes they needed that push to get out the other side. To return to the world and emerge stronger for it. Even for children this holds true. Joseph's look went back up at the opposing force.

"And that's tyranny. Acting on convience and making it sound royal." A wistful sound as he began and an enunciated breath on tyranny and royal, "Abandoning a child in the middle of a battlefield and calling it mercy. Letting someone burn and calling it duty. Then turning around to all of you and casting them to a pit, claiming you'll suffer the same fate if YOU disobey. The tyrant hopes though, desperately, that you'll forget what happened moments before his show of power. That neither madness or immolation was caused by disobeying, but rather obeying. They did nothing but their duty of marching forward, and the reward for serving the interests of the throne is to be forgotten at the convenience of the throne."

He could feel the young pawn's gaze on him, and he could see him looking back and forth from him to the bishop. He heard the boy summon up the courage, and he heard his words spat back at him. Joseph began a slow and deliberate process. He reached up to his collar and began to slide one arm out of his jacket.

"Franklin was it." The jacket was half off as he responded to the pawn's words, and he moved to finish the process with the other sleeve, "Commendable action really, protecting your beloved liege from foreign invader. Well, if it wasn't for whom that invader is. Take a look at the fine lawyer in front of you Franklin, look at how he's sculpted, just as fine as his twin across the board. Now, kid, I want you to remember something very very vital here, I didn't bring him with me. He was created in the exact same process as you were, behind those cold emotionless eyes lies someone who is more your kinsman than either king that stands on this board."

He had his jacket off now, and he was slowly folding the piece of clothing over his arm. He looked down, solemnly glancing the the body of Mathias and then to Edward. He shook his head, raised his free hand to the air, looking out across black pawns, knights, bishops, and rooks with a look of confidence.

"So then why are you and they created so different? Why were you each granted a personality, and they made to be identical yes men. Why can you both scream, but only one side chatter, fear, and hate?" His raised hand turned to a finger pointed to the heavens, "You've been told to treat what I say as lies, so I'll only speak using what you've witnessed yourself. Edward was compelled to jump a man, first blood, dark dark blood accompanied by dark dark screams, just as your own. When he died, he disappeared, a puff of black smoke to be forgotten, to remind you that he wasn't real. Mathias, he died a screaming preventable death, dragged out to crushing detail for all to see. Where was his merciful puff of black dust? He's still lying there, a grim totem, real as the day he was born. So why are you so different? One was created to ease your ability to kill, the other, clearly was created to suffer."

Joseph grabbed his coat so it stayed folded in his other arm and dropped it to his side. His tone and look went back to the pawn.

"So Franklin. Your heroics serve a purpose for your king and I can tell you it's not glorious revenge for Mathias." The CEO let out a soft laugh and shook his head, "You're an instrument. You gather your courage and strike down the bishop Lord Maximos created, I force Snoogins forward and you're paralysed while he's forced to cut you down, in his distress over murdering a child he only notices your lady's grim weapon on his throat a moment too late. Your body lies as a testament to how much a monster the enemy king is, and like dust in the wind the same evidence pointing towards your king is erased."

He began to roll his coat, still shaking his head. Still forcing back any temptation of outburst boiling under his skin.

"This stopped being about elimination with Mathias' death. This started to be about choice, so here's a choice kid." Joseph pointed to the bishop but then a made a wide circle back to his frontlines, "Pawn to h4."

And with only a "Yes sir, right away sir" the pawn moved forward.

"You cut down that bishop and you have to do it in cold blood, not one of my kind, one of your own. Then you'll likely have to cut down yet another person created by Lord Maximos. If you're sensing a cycle here, well, there is one. Asking the question, did anyone really have to die?" Another loud laugh and his eyes looked towards a certain knight, "But I can tell you Franklin, if this causes you pause you're not the only one hungry for choice."

Joseph bent at his knees.

"It's the will of your king you follow the rules. It's the will of your king that I may attack him ignoring check or checkmate rules. It's also the will of your king to let me know that it is unlikely I'll do this without assistance. You king left that statement very ambiguous." Joseph grinned and then tensed his muscles, "You see, that doesn't rule out who I'm allowed to work with. Breeze."

Joseph's legs straightened out and propelled him right off the ground, the boots kicked in after causing a burst of energy to send him higher, and finally the adjuster jets whirred to life sending him high above his square. At maximum height he pulled and arm back and made quick aim, throwing something balled up right over the heads of the front line and directly into the back row. Joseph hit his square with a thump and a painful "oof" as his knees bent to absorb the impact. The knight Kelly would find a white jacket nestled at her feet. A symbol, but this whole game was symbols at this point. Perhaps it would be enough.

"You want a lie exposed? This game is a farce, a lie in black and white." Joseph spat the words as he climbed back up to his feet suddenly being reminded of a phrase from history, "Sic semper tyrannis, every last one. Don't get yourself killed."

Diagnostics_

BAT 75% [^2% V9%]_

VIT Royal_

M/O/B Fire/Dark/Air_

Pawns 7/8

Bishops 2/2

Sol 2/2

Snoogins 2/2

Alison 1/1

"Protects from what?" A single note laugh, "Not from fire obviously."

Maximos tossed up his arms and said. "I cannot pretend to know the will of a God, Lord Brown. He protects those he deems worthy I would imagine. Mathias chose not to move, I gave him no commands. I would imagine he is with the Shadowfather now."

Ambiguity, was that not the greatest ally of blind faith? Faith, was the counter to any amount of reasoning. How many mindless atrocities spot human history all in the name of faith? Faith was something intangible but believedly invincible...if you had faith. These little pieces knew nothing of an outside world beside their purpose. They knew that the man who was there at their birth preached of war and belief in something greater. In the end, Maximos had bred driven and potentially mindless soldiers. Joseph was entirely right, he could have made his entire side of the board mindless and fake as could be but....where was the fun in that? Where was the struggle? The conflict? No matter what happened by the time this match ended everyone present would be touched in some way or another. Marked. And Maximos would have a plenteous inside view of the mind of his enemy, who most certainly was not Joseph Brown.

"I don't know Maximos." He looked up and fought a grin, "My actions were deliberate, but far from fatal. A tragic accident, easily avoidable if it wasn't for someone who wanted to put on a very morbid show."

Maximos had no matching compunctions, his grin stretched rather wide. Wide enough to grin for both of them. "Then I would say I am keeping to my word rather well. I would be amiss if I promised a war and it was diluted."

"How easy kings can become tyrants." His tone sounded a bit lazy as he raised his tie up and looked at it, "One day it's duty, the next it's arbitrary. Your blood, created or not, would be boiling if Mathias had knocked over a candle but was forbidden to pat out the flames as punishment. But isn't that just happened? A man could have been saved an agonizing death if he only was allowed to stop, drop and roll. Something we're taught as children... Well..."

"The candles are out, Lord Brown. There is no escaping the fact you tossed a flaming ball, when you could have simply side stepped the attack." Max chuckled moved his hands up to adjust his crown, it was tilted, but not quite tilted enough. Strange how in the lighting the jutting spires of its design looked so very much like black shiny horns. "You killed him. He merely chose to make his death valuable to something greater than himself."

Edward's eyes slid very slowly to the White King. Joseph's points were valid all, but then again the very point of the game was that Joseph had the ability to make valid points, to effect the players. And those effects had consequences. Bloody and real consequences. Edward looked down at the tie, and then up at Lord Brown, a timid hand reached out for the tie and squeezed it in his hands. He opened his mouth to say something and then, he looked at Franklin, catching only a side glimpse of the other boys dark and deep scowl. Edward's mouth shut and very quietly he began to sob.

"And that's tyranny. Acting on convenience and making it sound royal." Joseph so very carefully pronounced the word Tyranny, and in turn he just might hear it echoed in slow and deliberate exploratory terms around the board from several pawns. Marie said nothing. The Rook's eyes were no longer visible in their slits. "Abandoning a child in the middle of a battlefield and calling it mercy."

"...Tryanny." Kelly spat the word like it was a venomous poison. She spat it at her King through gritted and gnashing teeth. Maximos looked at her rather distantly and then lifted his scepter...Kelly growled. Max placed the scepter on the ground resting beside the throne. Out of reach. Commands inaccessible.

"Letting someone burn and calling it duty."

"Or divinity." Jacob chimed in from the very back row. Bishops granted holy spells to serve a god who watched them all burn. He was the youngest, he had the least sway with his siblings and yet the death of his dearest brother stole all the youth from his young face and replaced it with emptiness.

"Then turning around to all of you and casting them to a pit, claiming you'll suffer the same fate if YOU disobey. The tyrant hopes though, desperately, that you'll forget what happened moments before his show of power. That neither madness or immolation was caused by disobeying, but rather obeying. They did nothing but their duty of marching forward, and the reward for serving the interests of the throne is to be forgotten at the convenience of the throne."

"I will never forget..." The Bishop added solemnly, looking at his staff, at his book. Something smoldered inside him, waiting to lash out. His eyes slid to his King who he found watching him with a smiling face. Smiling in mercy? Smiling in vengeance? He could not tell, he could only tell that he was beginning to hate the man on the throne. Maximos in turn, could tell that Lord Brown was the right man for this job.

"Franklin was it." Franklin's looked directly at the opposing King. His eyes bore the strength that Edward's had not. These were not the eyes of a boy who was going to attack in a terrified rage, these were the eyes of a child forced to grow up very fast and ready to do what needed to be done. "Enjoy my name while you can still speak."

"Commendable action really, protecting your beloved liege from foreign invader." The boy's lips pulled back over his gritted teeth and he spat back. "I dont need your approval!"

"Well, if it wasn't for whom that invader is. Take a look at the fine lawyer in front of you Franklin," Franklin did. He brought up his shield in a defensive pose, he let his sword extend out behind him and crouched low. He was going to defend himself. Faith was all about believing the impossible. It said that a god or some other ineffable force was going to permit you, via your faith, to surpass reality. To surpass the laws that govern. Faith told Franklin that he had a chance of winning if he only fought with a pure heart. After all, Mathias had protected the Queen. Even if he died.

"Look at how he's sculpted, just as fine as his twin across the board. Now, kid, I want you to remember something very very vital here, I didn't bring him with me. He was created in the exact same process as you were, behind those cold emotionless eyes lies someone who is more your kinsman than either king that stands on this board."

He looked at Lord Joseph, he looked at the Bishop, he looked at his King. Only one of the men still had the weapon necessary to make this encounter deadly. He was listening, and yet it was hard to really listen when the person speaking to you has a proverbial trigger to your head, and is speaking of "choice". One command and that Lawyer would attack. Only a veil of belief stood between them.

"So then why are you and they created so different? Why were you each granted a personality, and they made to be identical yes men. Why can you both scream, but only one side chatter, fear, and hate?"

"Enough of your snake-tongue! Just order the attack and be done with it!" He didnt really want that. It showed in the twitch of his eyes before the words were fully spoken. It showed in the way he kept looking back at his dark King who was running his fingers up and down the edge of his sword and smirking at Knight Snoogin's as he frowned, and wondering if Lady Harmony felt so resolute in her stand right now. Maximos looked every bit like...well, a chess player. A man who knew his next move, and the next move, and the move after that, and was confident in his victory. Joseph was a wild card for certain, but Maximos let none of it show.

Joseph's raised hand turned to a finger pointed to the heavens, Franklin followed the motion up and then traced the arm back down. He was trying to scowl but wonderment was slipping over his face pulling that hard upside down curl of his lips into something more linear. "You've been told to treat what I say as lies, so I'll only speak using what you've witnessed yourself. Edward was compelled to jump a man, first blood, dark dark blood accompanied by dark dark screams, just as your own. When he died, he disappeared, a puff of black smoke to be forgotten, to remind you that he wasn't real. Mathias, he died a screaming preventable death, dragged out to crushing detail for all to see. Where was his merciful puff of black dust? He's still lying there, a grim totem, real as the day he was born. So why are you so different? One was created to ease your ability to kill, the other, clearly was created to suffer."

"Lord Brown please..." Said a kinder, warmer voice. It came from Marie, her sword sheathed and a look of honest and sincere concern on her face. Franklin was going to die, she knew it. This talk only prolonged it. "...he has suffered enough. For mercy's sake, just make your move."

Franklin looked at Marie, he looked at Joseph's coat knowing that those sleeves produced Mathias' death, and fear creased his brow. His faith, was cracking.

"So Franklin. Your heroics serve a purpose for your king and I can tell you it's not glorious revenge for Mathias." The CEO let out a soft laugh and shook his head, "You're an instrument."

We are all instruments of his will. He whispered to himself.

"You gather your courage and strike down the bishop Lord Maximos created, I force Snoogins forward--"

The Shadowfather will protect me...

"--and you're paralysed while he's forced to cut you down--"

Shadowfather protects...

"--in his distress over murdering a child he only notices your lady's grim weapon on his throat a moment too late--"

Protect me...

"Your body lies as a testament to how much a monster the enemy king is, and like dust in the wind the same evidence pointing towards your king is erased." Franklin was, albeit unconsciously chanting the same prayer over and over and over. Paralyzed by fear, devoid of faith. Faith, the fuel that put him on the square. Faith, what was meant to protect him. And without that faith...a single word from the wicked White King, and he would be dead at the hands of the Bishop towering over him.

There was not a single soul in the Black Army that did not look at Franklin as if the fate of the world lie in his hands. If he so much as stepped forward, the Queen would fall. Maximos would likely slay the Bishop himself...but the army would be crippled. But just as visible as the intensity on everyone's face was the doubt. Perhaps this man...this Lord Brown was correct. It was more than evident this was a game, but could they revolt? Should they?

"This stopped being about elimination with Mathias' death. This started to be about choice, so here's a choice kid." Joseph pointed to the bishop...

...And there was a gasp from everywhere on the other side. A few cringed, others covered there eyes. The older and wiser simply watched, wanting to pay Franklin's sacrifice its due. There was a rapid jingling sound that was Franklin's sword and shield tapping against each other with his scared shivers.

...but then a made a wide circle back to his frontlines, "Pawn to h4."

And then reality goes backwards, and the pieces are left wondering about the new shape of the world. Was this mercy? Oh tossing meaningless items of clothing and speaking of decisions while granting few was one thing. But this was an act of mercy. Actions speak so much louder than words. And to date, all Maximos or Joseph had were words. Now, Joseph had made a move quite opposite what may have been expected. He had not only preserved Franklin, but he had yet to even order the murder of Edward. This man, this opposing king was not who they had believed him to be. And thusly perhaps...their King was not either.

"You cut down that bishop and you have to do it in cold blood, not one of my kind, one of your own. Then you'll likely have to cut down yet another person created by Lord Maximos. If you're sensing a cycle here, well, there is one. Asking the question, did anyone really have to die?" Another loud laugh and his eyes looked towards a certain knight, "But I can tell you Franklin, if this causes you pause you're not the only one hungry for choice."

Joseph bent at his knees. The crowd was in an uproar. There was no a piece on the board that was not actively speaking or moving, debating or arguing. Several shouted questions at Maximos, but the Shadow King did nothing but sit with his fingers interlaced before his face, and smile. He still had that cocky grin, even without having his scepter. Even in the face of accusations. Even as Faith, dropped to an all time low.

"It's the will of your king you follow the rules. It's the will of your king that I may attack him ignoring check or checkmate rules. It's also the will of your king to let me know that it is unlikely I'll do this without assistance. You king left that statement very ambiguous." Joseph grinned and then tensed his muscles, "You see, that doesn't rule out who I'm allowed to work with. Breeze." Maximos seemed absolutely content to simply sit still and let Joseph speak for him. Of his will, of his nature, of the rules. The other king launched himself into the air and tossed his jacket at Kelly's feet. Kelly, who was furiously shouting insults at Maximos suddenly stopped. A white flag? Was it peace? Did he mean to ask for her assistance in slaying her King? She stared at the jacket shocked as if it were the face of God.

"You want a lie exposed? This game is a farce, a lie in black and white." Joseph spat the words as he climbed back up to his feet suddenly being reminded of a phrase from history, "Sic semper tyrannis, every last one. Don't get yourself killed."

There was a pause as his words sunk in and then...anarchy. It seemed nearly every pieces on the board had something to say to Maximos. Every one of them was asking a question. Shouting an insult. The heat of the moment was rising. A riot was well on its way and their monarch appeared unaffected by this. He didnt seem to want to make a move at all, he sat and smiled and the crowd grew louder. The closer pieces pressed near the edges of their squares, contemplating. Could he really stop them all? They could DO this.

And then Maximos moved, and everyone froze. The Black King moved for his scepter, he lifted it as if it were nothing more than a trinket and the crowd fell silent and still, doubtful but far from loyal. One blanket command and they would all be forced to do as he pleased. But where was the fun in that? With a chuckle Maximos flicked the scepter away where it landed silently atop of Joseph Brown's folded coat, and directly in front of Kelly.

No one moved, simply because no one understood what in the world this meant. Maximos' decision was just as wild as the White King's mercy. And with free hands, the Shadow began to clap. And then clap some more. The Black Army looked about itself confused, and finally Lord Lucillien Dark spoke.

"He seems to have a very good heart doesnt he? He appears to have your best interests in mind. He has even been extraordinarily gracious in giving away expensive articles of clothing and making generously merciful moves but..." Maximos took a step down from his throne. His voice was smooth, soft and sweet. A man addressing friends, as he took steps to descend to their level. To equal himself. "Have you all forgotten? How moments ago after Edward's desperate and brave attack this very man declared that all of you--" The last three words were spoken in a sharp tone just shy of a shout.

"--Were all to be slain, without hesitation. He told his troops not to hesitate. He ordered his men to slay you immediately regardless of your appearance. Have you heard him rescind that order? And then still seconds ago, he told poor Franklin that the boy had no choice because he would be forced to order his knight to slay him." Maximos laughed and sat down at the second to last step on his throne, his eyes even with his pieces. His voice calm and warm, and yet forceful only describing the actions of the opposing side. Vilifying them by relating said actions, to his ire. To something they all feared. "Friends, children, I ask you who forces his hand?"

Max gestured to Kelly, but more specifically to the discarded scepter. "I controlled your actions, but I do so no longer. And in turn, the Shadowfather control's my actions. But no one controls him. Nothing makes him do anything. He answers to nothing. Kelly if you do not believe me pick up that scepter and order your brothers to do whatever you please. But please remember the tyranny I demonstrated in asking you to help me more pleasantly awaken Marie..."

Jacob spoke up loud and proud. "The White King is motivated by justice. He wishes to see your tryanny undone."

Maximos did not look at Jacob angrily, but looked at him with the sympathy one gives and errant child. "Jacob...is it justice that has his Bishop and Knight and his Queen, set a moment's notice from killing your siblings? Would justice make him command his bishop or pawn to kill Franklin. Our dear innocent Franklin who only seeks to do as he was taught to do? Perhaps you are all created as tools in this game...that means you each have your lives at stake."

Max shook his head. "Knowing that, he speaks of taking your lives as a necessary and unavoidable thing when, while you might die if you lost a battle...he would gain little more than a flesh wound and go free. Is that just? Would a just man not take his licks to see you all free? Free as he claims you deserve to be?"

The crowd was still, but not convinced. Even Kelly was unsure what to do, though she held the jacket and scepter like one would hold the keys of the universe. As the crowd murmured, Maximos abruptly stood up.

"If I have been a tryant than of that title I retire. Kelly holds the keys to your shackles now. But, there is no justice here. Only the will of the Shadowfather." Maximos raised his hands with open palms in a display of innocence. "Only faith. Faith which Franklin has exemplified. Franklin..."

The looked at Maximos confused. "...In the very next move you may fall. You knew that when you stepped forward do not let the reasons for such a sacrifice cloud your decision. Know that even should you fall, before Nocturne I swear you will be avenged. Blood will be spilt in your honor. Have faith...everyone, please have faith." And yet, no one in the room had very much faith. Words could only go so far, Joseph had pushed things to a new level with a deed.

“Learn from Franklin's example. Franklin...remember who walks behind you." Max licked his lips and turned to the darling angel beside him and in a tone befitting that of a longing lover Maximos said, “Yes my love, it is time.”

And then abruptly he walked to the edge of his square where it touched the Queen's. He spoke openly, to everyone and no one. “I saw this in a dream once…”

He stepped beside the angel statue leaving his back turned and then he extended both arms out wide, almost as if he were hugging a gigantic ball, his hands balled in tight fists. While the White Army would not be able to initially see it, Maximos’ right eye ignited like a flair buried in his skull. It only took a few seconds for a plume if wispy white to rise up past his head and lick at the air. The Shadow took a deep breath and then suddenly snapped both hands open, all at once, his arms looked as if they were live wires. Plum and indigo colored sparks ran across his fingers before dancing down his wrists, up to his shoulders and back. "But you know all about strange dreams, dont you Lord Brown?"

As delicately as one might handle a priceless artifact Maximos reached out and laid both hands on the angel’s hand, the highest hand. He stood there, still and silent for a moment, his head bowed. The Angel stood entirely still, its closed eyes facing away and toward the throne.

And then the statue began to crack. At first it was her hands, and then her arms. Fissures divided their way up her porcelain purity in jagged scraggly lines, like veins, and from each vein pulsed a deep imperial blue sort of energy. The cracks rose up one arm, and then down the other, they pooled at her bare white feet and then began to slip up from the collar of her robe and across her neck. Her robes immediately shattered, not falling away or cracking but rather breaking into chunks which were stuck together by pools of that same blue glow. The chunks moved as joints might move making the robe seem alive, and as the trail of destruction reached lower on the stone cloth the chunks to which the statue broke into became smaller and smaller, until by its feet the angle was clothed in marble sized white stones floating in a sea of majestic blue illumination.

Even in the face of her destruction the Angel stood silent. The cracks fissured around her neck, ignoring her face and then crept over her ears drawing zig zag lines toward her eyes. And with an audible snap the Angel’s eyes burst open. They were empty soulless things pouring gouts of the same energy that seemed to animate them.

All at once her shoulders jerked forward violently snapping stone, her arms bent, her wrists snapped and her fingers rolled along the staff of her weapon. Every joint poured blue. With a kick her leg burst forward, free of the pedestal immediately followed by another jerky kick, causing her stone robe to flourish. She advanced, stepping down from her perch. Maximos stepped back a square and properly genuflect himself before the Queen before him. Her face was empty and yet gentle as it tilted down toward him from several feet above.

“She pales against the original, but I love her dearly. My black Queen. Queen Azraeli...Queen of the Damned.” Maximos rose, the angel reached out a free hand to cup his smiling face, his hand moved to rest over hers. He gestured over to a nearby square and very gently, and yet loud enough for all to hear he said.

“My Queen I beseech you...remind us the will of our lord, spread vengeance on pure wings...teach them the meaning of despair.” The Angel's gentle face set on the crowd. Soft and merciful. Needless to say, no one in the Black Army had seen Lady Azraeli live. This was like seeing a crucified Christ get up and walk about the church. Needless to say, under her gaze at the very least, no one in the Black Army even remembered the meaning of the word doubt. Franklin stood up, grabbed his weapons and once again donned a courageous face. Even poor Edward rose shakily to his feet and dropped the tie to the ground and bending over to grab his sword and shield. Azraeli set her gaze on Franklin, and then advanced, and there was no longer anything even remotely rigid about her steps. Instead she carried herself in a determined stalk. Her foot fall was eloquently placed. She stepped with unearthly grace and deadly poise. She was as delicate as a knife balancing on its blade, leaning over the very tip of a ledge. A ledge placed over the head of the White Army. With no small amount of pride Maximos announced.

“These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die…you speak of choice Lord Brown, now make one.”

-|-

He had been half listening to the boos while he went on with his speech, the rest of his attention was devoted while the opposing queen came to life. It had taken him by surprise, probably as it was meant to do. He had let out whispered curse as it all went on.

Next time he was asked to join the boss for something like this he was going to have to ask for danger pay. Though if your job is hurting people and throwing yourself into large battles can you actually get danger pay? It was something to think on if he managed to survive this whole thing.

When JB cleared his throat he was forced back to reality and he saw the boss looking at him and did his best to calm down a little.

Joseph Brown Wrote:

"Snoogins, one of you get over to d2."

With a bit of an effort focused on his other self still sitting next to one of the Sols and moved to the indicated spot, it was getting a bit easier to do now. He was standing in front of the boy now.. what was his blasted name? Edwin... Edward.. something like that. He held his shield at the ready, cause you never knew if the boy would try anything. It was against the rules of chess from what little he knew about the game but already he had seen that in this game said rules could be broken...

"Hey kid. Nice day we're having, eh?"