COG: 12: Re-instated

Prescott sits silently tapping a pen onto his shiny wooden desk.

A frown spreads on his face, making wrinkles form under his eyes. He runs his hand into his once black now graying hair

"That was some tale."

"Yep, that's the way the boat floats sometimes."

Prescott continues tapping the pen lightly for minutes on end as he sits and thinks

"Can I go now or uhh what?"

Prescott looks at me enamored.

"I will re assign you yes, but please take a leave or break.. I wouldn't wish you to start fighting immediately again after all you went through."

"Thanks."

I stand up and place the onyx guard helmet on my hip into my hand and place it over my head and lock it into place. A small blue band covering the crest of the helmet showing my rank.

One day I want one of those plumed helmets that the majors and colonels of the onyx get, I want to do some roman legion larping aswell.

Oh well this stuff happens slowly over time if not evident enough already, If you want become a officer just die tragically and return like 10 years later lmao.

Well the second siege of Ephyra was cut short by me so they probably have half a year of respite or so to prepare for the next attack.

And get a lightmass missile, but with Marcus in prison now they dont really have anyone with large enough balls to go into the hollow and plant a beacon, and he is the only who can find Adam Fenixs map of the hollow to correctly flood it.

Well that gives me some time to think and breathe atleast.

I leave the room and make my way out of the judiciary and into the main city..

Shit I'm basically homeless? Where to gears even live? I guess since most of them die or are always fighting housing wasnt that much of a concern.

The southern block of the city got cremated so I'm sure there's especially a ton of homeless people now.

Fuck dis I'm going to the bar!

I go to a nearby alleyway and pull off all the armor and stuff it into my inventory and now I all I have on is a grey tank top and some jeans, wich is better than a lot of citizens in Ephyra.

My body is a car that runs on whiskey and I'm all outta gas pardner.

I waltz down the street and excitedly aproach a dilapidated building with a beer mug hanging sign that is barely flickering with life.

The door jingles as it opens and the familiar musk of depression and alcohol hits my nose

A bunch of young and old men and women sit at randomly placed booths and tables drinking and chatting as if their deaths arent days away with no escape

I plant myself firmly at the edge on a stool and stare silently at the rack of bottles.

None of these brands are something I'm aware of..

The bartender a short man with tan skin who is wearing a red tshirt approaches me,

"Whatll be?"

"Uh. Your cheapest whiskey on the rocks."

"Sure thing."

I only got about 100 dollars I looted from some unassuming folks who uh..

That's a different story.

The barkeep comes back and slides me a small glass filled with off light brown liquid.

I lift it up to my mouth and take a sip.

Bitter and disgusting, I love it.

It has been a long while since I could just sit and have a drink even if only for a small moment in time, it's still lightens the mood alot

Could this place be any darker? I'm getting depressed just fucking sitting here.

Minutes pass and I continue sipping my shit water, not being able to get drunk sucks sort of, but being resistant to most poisons makes up for it I think.

But drinking this stuff is not as amazing as I remember.

"Rough night ey?"

Someone sits next to me and ushers the bartender over.

"Give me gin and tonic, usual brand."

"Yes maam."

She turns to me and the small dim lights shine onto her face.

Alicia Valera.

A athletic asian looking woman with tan skin and rough scars on her right eye that cut up into her eyebrows.

Shouldn't she be dead?

Did I fuck the timeline up that bad?

Well whatever, stuff happens.

"You looked like you were having a rough night so I just came to see if you were all right, if ya needed help or anything."

She smiles lightly but her eyes say nothing but pity.

"No I'm fine, just had a little dry stint in my life but everything will be fine."

Alicia scans me for any sign of problems she could help with

"Your arms are covered in scarring you a gear?"

"Onyx."

She sits back in her chair taken aback.

"Onyx? I thought you bunch were 'too elite' to mingle with normal people.."

"Well that's mostly true, but most of the older veterans and ranked officers act differently than some academy cunt who just guards politicians."

I down my drink and wipe my mouth with the rim of my clothes.

"I should probably go."

My legs begin scooting the stool out.

"Hey, what's your story? You seem familiar"

She stops me, placing the drink in her hand down.

She looks at me for a few moments and then as if a lightbulb went off in her head she slaps herself.

"Your him! That guy! What do they call you? The um- Skorges scourge or something like that! The one who came back from the dead.. I can't believe I found you wallowing in a bar."

"Hey was that last part neccessary?"

She chuckles lightly at my comment, covering her mouth.

"I'm going."

Women always pestering me, I think I'm about done with them at this point, might marry myself so the curse of crazy bitches will leave my soul.

"Hey, I'll see you around. Names Alicia Valera by the way."

She strikes her hand out and I grasp it and and we shake.

"Sebastian."

"No last name."

"Not yet."

"Aumm. Ok then."

She tips her finger at me and I leave the small bar, pushing the door open and slipping into an alley and getting geared up, I need to look for somewhere to stay.

Damn I didnt think this through, where the hell do I go? I'm not about to beg Prescott for a place to stay, Onyx Guard are supposed to be wealthy and have life figured out.

I got like 1000 dollars to my name and like negative 200,000 worth of salary taken from me because they though I game ended.

Pretty much homeless until they send me off to fight locust again. Well shit.

Maybe just a hotel will do fine for tonight..

If there are any that didnt get bombed and shot into oblivion.

No time better to go splorin'

--

--

The lucky swine? Who the hell came up with a dumb shit name like that for a motel.. Its a place to stay so I can't complain really..

A greasy chubby man stands behind an iron barred counter.

"Just for the night."

I slip him 45 dollars and he shuffles it into the register.

"Room 13."

The keys come out from under a linked tray connected to the other side of the fortified receptionist desk. What did the locust try to book rooms for free? Crazy bastards.

I leave the reception area and walk down the line of rooms, the building is a drab brown with bent tin siding that has seen it's fair share of abuse in its time

as a retreat for cog soldiers and probably drug addicts.

Soon I come to approach a room with a 13 on it, the 3 bent and hanging by a chain that is connected to screw where it's supposed to be.

They couldn't just like.. Re screw it in.

It's the lucky swine what the fuck am I waffling about.

I push the decrepit steel key into the lock and it opens with a saddening crunch of rust. The door swings open with a squeal, I flick the lights on and its about what I expect.

An old shitty bed with a wooden frame and old rug looking blankets that are probably filled with blood and other bodily juices.

I drop my shit on the floor and go into the bathroom.

This is what I have been looking for, a shower.

I turn the nozzle to the hottest maximum setting and step in.

Relief, of not having pounds of dirt and shit on my body. It's a beatiful thing.

[AN]

Stones stones stones stones.

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Chapterly song suggestion: Opiate - Monuments.