And They Lived Happily Ever After - or not

[admiralducksauce]

nt
_________________
"I come for the wuggas... but stay for the jiggy juggas."
Cheerleader

[Gatac]

Mark watches the explosion from outside, recovering better from the mere usage of his powers than Sharon from a nearly-fatal wound. Consequently, both of their postures aren't too steady, but they keep each other upwards.

He's seen a lot of explosions. Few have ever looked that beautiful, though. The same goes double for Sharon.

As she rests her head on his shoulder, Mark wonders whether it's really ever over. A brief instant later, however, he feels the warmth of her skin even through the heavy layers of armor, and it throws his thinking off track.

Maybe Shariel has not fallen as deep as she thinks...

In his left hand, he holds the mask he adopted ever so briefly. Feelings flash through him.

It wasn't all bad. It was a nice idea, just quite the wrong execution. Hm, I wonder...

Mark reaches into the trenchcoat, revealing a DVD-R case with a hastily scribbled label, reading simply "Sanctuary Data". He holds it out for Gamariel to take.

"Accounts, Inventory lists for some weapon caches and dossiers on every contained metahuman. I figure it could be useful. Oh, Dieter ?"

He reaches into a different pocket, pulls out a small piece of metal and flips it towards the Swiss-German superspy.

"Tell Malcolm I owed him a bullet."

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

A few minutes earlier...

Inside a dumpster, a grey mass sat, seemingly inert. Then, cracks appeared in the solidified object, and a black liquid oozed out of it's protective shell. As it found it's way across the junk, it occasionally touched rusty tin cans, absorbing them into it's mass. As it reached the boundary of it's container, the substance ate through it's metal shell, spilling out onto the hot pavement. It did not reform, but flowed on, randomly running along the cracks in the sidewalk below it. Then, by freak chance, it moved out of the shadows briefly, instantly recoiling as if in pain. The tip of it's foremost section suddenly arched up, tentacle-like, the periscope of a submarine rising above the surface of shadows to take a look around. The being spied a manhole, and mobilised itself to flow down, quickly disappearing into the darkness. There, it dripped down onto the ground, and began trying to defy gravity some more, having regained some of it's strenght.

What am I ? I live, don't I ? Who am I ?

It remembered. It was a man. It had been killed. By other men with firearms, strangers. It had lived once...before they came, destroyed it's life.

I am Jean-Michel Rhey.

It flowed together into a vaguely humanoid form, it's head staring down at the reforming hands.

I WAS Jean-Michel Rhey. Now, I am different - but still him.

Other memories. Being killed again. This time, their weapons could not hurt him, only break his concentration. Defeat had been impossible - he was dead, how could they have killed him ? One of them - he'd used light. Too much light to flee from. He had nearly killed him. The being was furious.

I am but a spectre, but I will have my revenge. This second chance will last as long as my heart still screams for justice.

Other memories. It stood to the side while they - other they, other men - tortured a woman. It heard her screams, her cries for mercy, but it did not move. Another memory - the man who had used the light facing him.

"I will do it. Just keep your hands off her. You've brought her enough suffering."

HE had tortured her, or was in some form responsible. Guilt. The man had not just killed him. He'd merely retaliated against the hurt. The woman was not his mate. She was his...friend ? He felt loyalty towards her, and the being knew that having hurt her had also hurt the man.

No. Justice has been served already, partially. This existence - it is not a vehicle for my revenge.

He remembered more. His life before he had died, his undead existence. He felt terror. He felt the pain he had caused. More guilt. Finally, the being had reformed to a completely humanoid appearance, it's body black as the night, but with a surprisingly human face.

"I have already wasted a chance."

He walked away, further into the distance, to find the man who had killed him the second time. He walked with purpose. With a mission.

Not revenge.
Redemption.
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Threadbare]

John looks at the exploding bookstore, then down at his hands. The knuckles are a little swollen, and there's still that bullet hole in the meat of his shoulder, but other than that, he's fine. Call it a knack for staying alive, call it genetically-engineered predispositions for soldiering, call it the blood gift of Victor von Doom, he always came out alright.

No use denying it anymore, it's probably true.

After they drive back, he digs out his cell phone from one of his dozens of pockets, and calls a number that only three people should know.

"Hi, mom?"
_________________
DIMBER DAMBER: (n.) A top man, or prince, among the canting crew: also the chief rogue of the gang, or the completest cheat. from CANT.

[Gatac]

There's another odd couple around, only more ackward. Chrome is, for the lack of a better word, crying her soul out on Azuriel's shoulder, having finally reached a breaking point. The angel tries hard to comfort her, but with less emotional competence than the average human, he's not quite as successful as he'd like.

"Sh, it's alright. It's over."

She's still crying.

I want her to stop crying. No, wait. I want her to feel better. Not the same thing.

There's nothing he can do now but continue to hug her. Maybe, in time, she'll learn to slay the demons.

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

Mark has just finished comforting Sharon a bit - after all, they can still hug when it's not hurting their reputation as cold professionals. Somewhat steady again, he's trying to sort out what's still whirring around in his head.

I didn't want to kill them. Anton was a lost cause, sure, but Spectre...maybe. Maybe.

Then, there's something in the back of his mind, like a splinter he can't pull out, urging him to...

"Come out already. I know you're here."

There's a chuckle in the air, and out of thin air, a man with pale white features and hair appears. He chuckles again, then looks at Mark, sizing the Paladin up.

"Like father, like son. You are the son of Thomas alright, but in a sense, you're also mine. I take it you have reconsidered ?"
"I've weighed the evidence again. Where were the forces of Heaven when I was in trouble ? You've made me survive impossible odds. I'm not sure I can really trust you, but I know who I can't trust. Count me in."
"Very well. Will your friends come, too ?"
"I hope so. Give me a second."

Mark turns around, collecting his three friends. There's an uneasy silence as they see the man; even Chrome stops crying, but Az isn't sure if that's a good thing.

Mark looks around; he merely gets nods from the three.

So it's settled.

"Mark Aaron Simmons, Lightbringer."
"Azuriel, Defender of Mankind."
"Sharon, Agent of Revenge."
"Chrome, Fighter for Light."

Then, Mark draws his sword and points it towards the sky.

"No longer shall we serve the forces of Heaven."

Then, he points it to the ground.

"Nor shall we be party to the designs of Hell."

Then, he points it at the man.

"From this moment on, until the time that we shall die, we pledge allegiance to you, and only you."

The man nods, then speaks up.

"I accept your bid. You are hereby free from all other obligations, free to pursue your own way removed from the constraints of the Eternal War. Neither Heaven nor Hell shall use you again. For that I guarantee."

He pauses for a second, then smiles.

"So speaks Lucifer, Archangel of Light."
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Punkey]

"So," James says. They're both sitting on the hood of Jack's car. Somehow, it's made it through the past week intact, save the rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Well, I guess I should apologize. For yelling at you earlier, and all of this other bullshit," Jack says.

"Nah, man, I'd be freaked out too if I were you. It's nothing. But now that we've seemingly got all this crazy apocalypse stuff sorted out, I guess it'll be back to normal," James says. "You'll probably never see any of those crazies ever again. That'll be nice, won't it?"

"Yeah, I guess." Jack looks at the rest of the group, then gets up and walks over to Az. "You know, after all we've been through in the past week, I would be honored if you and your friends would have a beer with me."

Az turns and looks at Jack. "In some roundabout way, this may actually make sense. Fine, why not."

"Great," Jack says. "Top of the Hill is great. I'll see you there."

Az nods. "I'll be there."
_________________
Gatac: Disco Jesus is a dick.
Punkey: Yes.

[Gatac]

Az does, indeed, show up. Alone, but nonetheless, he's there.

He orders a Miller Lite, then turns to Jack.

"As you may have seen, we're working for a different team now. I don't trust Lucifer, but I trust Mark - and as it stands, until recently they were the same. Kind of. Long story in any event. Now, Gamariel's joint is all good and well, but not quite our style. We - I've been asking myself if you'd like to work with us. I know we don't have the best of reputations. We don't want one. We'd rather have none at all. You see, Mark thinks that we now have the unique opportunity of going underground. They can't admit they've lost him, they can't pardon him, so they'll have to execute him. There's only so much they can do if we hide well enough - and Mark knows how to stay off the radar. At some point - sooner rather than later - they'll have to say that he has been executed, even if its not true. And with that, they lose a lot of options."

He sips some more of the liquid.

"In a word, we're as safe as we can hope to be. But we have been trained to kill, to fight. You're different, Jack. You know how to heal. We want you with us."

Az stares at Jack for a second, then goes on.

"The war is changing. It's less about people with guns, and more about people with brains. It's time to choose your side. Are you with us ?"
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Punkey]

Jack stared at the bar. He thought about what he had left. His job at the morgue is probably gone. The only friend he saw on a regular basis was Adam, and he's dead. And finally, after what happened at the morgue, he's not so sure it's safe for him to be around Susan.

"You know, it's really not my place, but I think you should do it," James says. "I know you know why."

Jack nods. "Yeah, I know." He looks at Az. "Okay. I'll do it. But you have to promise me one thing. I get to look after my girlfriend. I told her that I wouldn't let any of this touch her, and I'm going to carry through with that promise, okay?"
_________________
Gatac: Disco Jesus is a dick.
Punkey: Yes.

[Gatac]

Az smiles.

"Deal."
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Threadbare]

About a week later, John was enjoying his stay in one of the more selective suites of The Jazz Age in Las Vegas, having vamoosed, like most of the other principles, to his respective haunt. But it wasn't all sunshine and ticker-tape parades, baby. He spent much of his time laying low and pouring through the Sanctuary files, jotting down notes as appropriate.

A lot of these people just had bad luck, he thought to himself. Slept with the wrong woman, born under the wrong star, stole from the wrong person. Same old story.

Hmmn, they have research on the Chipper.  Interesting, looks like it's just genetic modification limiting production of protein phosphatase 1 and myostatin from birth, yields incredible muscle mass and a photographic memory. Doesn't seem to explain why he has the regenerative capacity of a zebrafish. Probably in there somewhere. Still no mention of the century babies. They ought to know about that. Meh, that's a question for another day.

He minimizes the window, and brings up his "Latverian recipes" file, which isn't so much about ethnic confectionary as it is long-term plotting.

Just one more notch, that's all he is. Just keep telling yourself that...

(Edited by Threadbare at 10:11 pm on Oct. 6, 2003)
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DIMBER DAMBER: (n.) A top man, or prince, among the canting crew: also the chief rogue of the gang, or the completest cheat. from CANT.

[Dieter]

The days proceeding the "Battle at Love Media" saw Dieter renting out a charted plane to the Cayman Islands.

It wasn't just for the sun, fun, and the half-naked women running about...Dieter was thinking more on the lines of non-extradition-country. He had kept a loaded Beretta on the pool-side TV stand and Action News on-screen just to make sure there wasn't a team of U.S. Marshals hot on his trail.

Dieter's ex-wife may still be haunting him too.

(Edited by Dieter at 8:34 am on Sep. 30, 2003)
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"Hot lead never loses its effectiveness in the wrecking-up of the shit."
--- Yahtzee

[Gatac]

Az finishes up his beer, and the two finally walk out of the bar. Outside, the rest of the group is already waiting inside a black Hummer of dubious origin. Mark's leaning against the side of the car, focussing the two through his shades. Jack has a good look at him.

How can he keep on killing and still look so damn sorry about it ?

Mark checks for witnesses, then takes off the shades. There are no eyes - only faintly glowing points of white light.

"Ready to roll ?"

Az grins.

"Are we ever. Let's get going before the rest of the world decides that it's about time for us to fend off the next strike team."
"Agreed. Jack, Az, your weapons ?"

Az pats the side of his hawaii shirt, while Jack freezes.

"Er, I think I dumped mine."

Mark arches an eyebrow, then motions for Jack to follow him. He opens the boot of the car, revealing a sizeable amount of guns and ammunition - not Dieter levels, but still more than enough for the small group.

"Now, Jack, I heard you had a small intro session at Dieter's place not too long ago. As for me, seeing you empty a whole magazine into Anton's head tells me that I'm not letting you near these kittens before we have a talk about a few important tactical consideration."

He closes the boot again, then stares at Jack with his white eyes.

"Oh, one thing. I want you to visit Helsing in the hospital and bring him a message. Tell him that he's got friends now."
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Gatac]

The drive is mostly uneventful, though it does lead the now fivesome into one of the older sections of Liberty - an alleyway full of apparently seasoned buildings, looking like a strange mix of 19th Century European city and neon advertisement. Mark steers the car through a driveway in one of the buildings, taking it through a sort of carport before ending up in a large cargo elevator. He fishes for a key from his pockets, then puts it into a nearby control panel and starts the lift. Soon, the vehicle plunges into the darkness below.

Slowly, light fills the room as strobe lighting flickers to life. Mark switches the car's engine off, then motions for the others to exit.

"Maybe you've been wondering what I did between Rome and the arrest. Long story short, I did work for two decades as contract killer. If you make it our alive, you make it out with some money. And this is where I put that money. The previous owner was the victim of a rather grisly event - none of my doing, by the way -, and his wife was quite happy to sell me the whole shop, especially since a) there were no offers for this site of a murder and b) I paid about twice the cash it was worth. As far as I understand, the guy was an exterminator - bugs and roaches - and stored all of his gear down here, to prevent it from being stolen. Oh, Jack, by the way, you're the owner."

Mark looks towards the good Doctor, then draws a small piece of paper from his coat.

"Jack, you play yourself. You're the founder of JS Consulting, a small upstart firm that hires out experts to various branches. Helsing should be able to help you get a gig as Civilian Consultant with the cops. Az, you're Raphael Marcos, linguist and accountant with the just about most boring administrative background money can buy. We're signing you up for a computer course tomorrow. Same deal for you, Chrome."

Chrome throws a questioning look at Mark, who smiles.

"Don't worry too much about it. You'll basically just man the telephone and talk to any stray customers who might want to hire us for real. Oh, you'll be Cassandra Raecher, an Austrian exchange student who managed to get a green card by lottery."
"Mein Akzent stimmt nicht." (My accent is all wrong.)
"Huh ?"
"I said, I don't sound Austrian. Hell, I don't sound German either."
"Not to worry. We're getting you a comprehensive Schwarzenegger DVD collection..."
"Ich geb mir die Kugel." (I'll have to shoot myself.)
"I don't think I want to know what you just said. Now, Sharon ?"

The she-demon takes off her shades, grinning.

"Yes ?"
"You're...well, I don't have a good name for you yet. You're our Chief of Security, and you give classes on safe weapon handling every second Thursday."
"That's sweet, Mark, but I'm not too big on Glocks, and that's what this is going to be about, or ?"
"Then I'd say you brush up. I've got some in the back."
"You have a way of making gunplay sound decisively non-fun."
"Anyone else ?"

Az raises his voice.

"What will you do ?"

Mark grins.

"I am Jonathan Davies, your advisor for Foreign Investment. I work abroad, currently in Monrovia. You put on the front, I'll keep the operation running. Somebody has to keep contact to the underground."
"And what of Lucifer ?"
"Oh, the old man himself is taking an inspection tour of the world to find out where we can help. I gave him our number. Anyway, this is all subject to change right now. We'll do a proper brainstorm after dinner."

Chrome feels compelled to ask.

"Dinner ?"
"Pizza."
"Ah."
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Gatac]

As the group files about, Jack nudges Azuriel.

"Az ?"
"What is it ?"
"Don't you find it in some way worrying that you swore allegiance to the devil ?"

Az blinks, then answers.

"He's not the devil."
"He's not ?"

Az sighs, then motions for Jack to follow him. They walk by a rack with some shotguns, then sit down at a small table.

"Now, Jack, tell me - what do you know of the fall of Lucifer ?"
"Not terribly much. First there was God, then Lucifer got jealous of his powers, abandoned him and became the devil, thus creating evil."
"OK. That's not too far, but notably off. First off, I'll have to shock you a bit. There is no God."
"Really."
"No. When the Universe was created, there was at first energy, perfectly neutral. But like your quantum physics stipulate virtual matter/antimatter particle pairs, this giant neutral force split in Good and Evil, or, better, in the Constructive and the Destructive force. They have no real personality to speak off. That begins at the lower levels, with angels and demons. Generally, the higher up you get, the more single-minded the being is. For example, Azrael is not just the Archangel tasked with Vengeance - he IS vengeance. Michael is War, and so on. As you climb lower on that ladder, the angels and demons gain a more...human perspective, but still without free will. Usually."

He pauses for a second to take a sip of water from a nearby bottle, then goes on.

"Now, Lucifer, he's a special case. Something went wrong when he was created. He got the power, but also a full personality. He advocated helping the humans more directly; he was, after all, Archangel of Light, and as such he carried a lot of the Constructive force within him. The whole argument became so heated that he was unable to do his work; he flat out refused. Bang, he gets kicked out. Takes Moloch with him, too."

Az grins.

"Ah, Moloch. He's actually far more of a bad guy than old Lucifer himself, maybe the more prototypical devil even, but he's endlessly loyal to the Archangel. So the two are out there, their wings broken, their visages scarred, and out of a job. And Lucifer, blinded by all the hate for the divine burocracy above, signs up with the other team. Needless to say, Moloch shines when he's out building demon loyalty for his Master, and Lucifer begins to try and tempt the humans away from heaven, since he still believes that he has the better way. But the prime evil has already begun to twist him. By the time the bible is written, Lucifer is really quite evil, without even realising it."

Az shakes his head.

"But he's grown tired. Realisations works slow on the immortal, but it works. He starts looking for a way out of the gig. Redemption seems out of question, he can't go on being the eternal second to the prime evil - hell, he doesn't even want to be evil any longer. When the world geared up for Apocalypse, he saw his chance. Go down quietly and hope that his essence survives to the next iteration."

The angel sees the question mark on Jack's face, but goes on.

"But there's still the Paladin. At that time, Thomas Simmons, Mark's father. Lucifer does the math and arrives at the conclusion that by the time of Mark's Paladinship, the end will roll around. And he knows that the Paladin will try to interfere. So he takes the one route he has left. He arranges for Mark to get lethally injured in his childhood, then offers Thomas to bond his essence to Mark to save his life. Of course, Lucifer knows what he wants to do. He wants to turn the child to his side, make him fail and let the Apocalypse happen. Thomas doesn't see through it, and allows Lucifer to go ahead. I only learned that from Lucifer himself; his power was so great that Heaven never saw that happen. And Lucifer's really good at hiding; we didn't register his essence in Mark when we recruited him."

Az sighs.

"Lucifer had his way with Mark for much of his adult life. The cold, cruel murderer you always see him as - that was Lucifer's influence. But the gig worked two ways. Mark eventually fought his way back to the top. I can't begin to imagine how hard that was, but he somehow managed. Now, Mark was actively, er, uncorrupting Lucifer. The archangel saw that Mark did not think he was beyond redemption, and slowly began to think that he could do it too. When the Apocalypse began to roll around, Lucifer turned up the power dial on Mark. From someone who saw it: Wow. That was really damn bright. Long story short, the powers call a ceasefire, Lucifer gives Hell the finger, but doesn't accept the offer of redemption either. Mark convinces the powers to turn back time, and the Apocalypse is avoided. And now, we're here. Lucifer thinks we - every touched human, every outcast angel and demon can be a third faction. I tend to agree. So, that's it, basically."
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Infested Paladin]

Two days after the showdown, Dante meets a rehabilitating Gamariel and John for lunch at the White Castle in Harwood.

After they all consume a goodly number of greasy hamburgers at the tables outside, they sit back to digest and discuss over sodas.

"Guys," Dante announces, "I'm ready for a vacation."  In fact, he already looks like he's taking a sort of vacation.  Instead of his flashy Italian silks, fedora, and flowing coat, he's dressed in simpler street clothes: cargo pants and a short-sleeved, button-down shirt, both in different shades of khaki.  He'd gotten a haircut the day before, and his sunglasses ride in his shirt pocket, revealing his eyes absent of their usual adventerous gleam.

"It's been a while since I've seen my family, and I'm afraid that if I stay here another moment, either ninjas, demons, or even worse, that crazy angel will show up and drag me into something."
_________________
"Now, if you don't mind, I am somewhat preoccupied telling the laws of physics to shut up and sit down."
-Vaarsuvius, Elven Wizard (Order of the Stick)

[Threadbare]

"You heading back to the motherland, dante?" asks John, sipping on his Dr. Pepper. Surprisingly, he's not wearing a suit, instead wearing a black button-up shirt with a big roulette wheel on the back. "So am I, in a way. Goin' back to Vegas. Still not sure who owns the Jazz Age now; it was a mess after the bessucios kicked the bucket--father left the place to the kid, and the kid didn't have a will. Who knows who's running it now?

"He boss," he asks, turning to his employer, "you heard from Az and them?" The name "mark simmons" is still not safe to speak in this ear-walled time.

Constantine retains an inscrutible look, saying only "They'll be in touch," and flashing a mona lisa smile.
_________________
DIMBER DAMBER: (n.) A top man, or prince, among the canting crew: also the chief rogue of the gang, or the completest cheat. from CANT.

[Gatac]

Meanwhile, in the subterrenean HQ of the Night Terrors...

Mark's happily munching away at a piece of salami pizza - with double cheese, booked over the expenses account of JS Consulting - while Sharon's slice continues radiating heat to the surrounding.

"Love, your dinner's getting cold."
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Just let me get this done..."

Sharon's thumb nearly flattens a pin against the wall, but finally, she pushes it through the wallpaper - and a city map covered with a transparent sheet of plastic on top is now affixed to the otherwise spartan wall. Pleased with her work, Sharon turns around and collects the pizza.

"When did you say the office supplies would arrive ?"

The muffled sounds of Azuriel's screaming answer the question. Mark looks at his watch, then smiles.

"I'd say, sometime around now."

Sharon finishes her slice as Az comes running, nearly tumbling down the stairs. He doesn't look too happy.

"Alright, you bastards, who ordered the pale blue wallpaper ?"

Mark feigns innocence, Sharon grins, and Jack just sighs.
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Gatac]

The next day...

Jack makes a few observations during further installation of the gear at the new location.

- For a psychotic massmurderer, Mark has quite the knack for getting wallpapers to stick to the walls. Moreso than Azuriel, anyway.

- Sharon has the miraculous ability to fuss over the ideal arrangement of weapon racks for hours, giving Jack a brief orientation course in CQC. He stops listening after the diatribe over probable points of entry and likely fields of fire, though.

- Chrome, when she's not feeling watched, dials a number on the phone, but always hangs up before the call is answered.

- Liberty Pizza commits unspeakable crimes upon pineapple, but the rest of the menu is eatable.
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.

[Gatac]

The next day, decoration proceeds on both levels. Jack and Chrome are busy moving around furniture, Az has left for greener pastures (in terms of lunch, at least - after all, he wanted to pay the other angel in town a visit, and he could really use some Chinese...), Sharon's still cursing loudly and decrying the mother of Gaston Glock and his Safe Action system, and Mark appears to have his cellphone glued to the right side of his face.

Strangely, the up-to-now dormant phone on Chrome's desk starts ringing. The half-vampire drops the motivational poster in her hands ("Sometimes, all it takes is a smile to make your day"), then grabs the receiver off the hook.

"JS Consulting, Cassandra Raecher speaking. How may I help you ? Yes, he's right here, I'll get him on the phone."

She hands the phone over to Jack.

"Sounds like our first customer."

And with that sentence, Jack realises, the old times have ended, but the new adventure has only begun.

And somewhere in Liberty City, the underground braces for the next round...
_________________
Gatac: Just making sure you are aware of life-saving buttsex.
Punkey: I've always been aware of life-saving buttsex. Best Red Cross training weekend ever.