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Saturday, May 24, 2008

Who is to Blame? (Chapter of Twos: Part One)

(Hahahahaha!!) The Chapter of Twos: Part One

(How ironic…)

Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters are NOT my properties.
Warning: I am sooo drugged when I did this… just finished reading a hilarious fic

Note: Breakdown II—I imagined Abel as a horse for some reason and I couldn’t shrug it off… Having the hay thing so familiar with luring Abel into sweets…

In life, there’s a pattern. There always is a pattern for the evolutionary succession of things to prime their prime. If one specie evolves, all of the species in that area start evolving. This happens if there is a change in the environment and they need to adapt to a new environment according to Charles Darwin’s theory; this goes the same for humans. From prosimians to humans, homo sapiens sapiens. There was a pattern discovered through carbonated traces in our DNA confirming some facts about the theory, but still it remains a theory because of the lack of consistency in finding more evidence per era or even per year. There always was a time jump in the series of studies made by the Father of Evolution.

Part of the many studies involving the Evolution Theory was in the medical field. Pre-Armageddon doctors scuffed through white hospitals, all grouped into different fields of expertise. Some were surgeons; some were neurologists; some were in pathology; some specialize in histology. Every doctor contributed to their oath to serve, heal—well, most of them anyway. Then, there were nurses. Nurses helped doctors through different things. But they didn’t scrub in. Only intern doctors did that, or subcontracted doctors to a hospital. This helped Charles a lot in his quest toward the Galapagos and back. Being a medical practitioner himself, he knew that some factors in healing were nature-based—applying natural techniques that animals use themselves.

The environment holds the truth to a perfect paragon; for humans, we observe patterns to help us improve our lives. In nature, we get many raw data through quantitative analysis as well as qualitative observation, which mold ethical un-biased curricula for daily living and mass etiquette. In math, Pre-Armageddon humans discovered the Fibonacci sequence. According to Fibonacci, nature holds the sequence in bequeathing its fruits. For example, mother earth’s Laburnum stretching out with yellow blossoms pinned crude to its braches, its fingers, numbering from one to two to three to five and so on… Many years and dedication resulted in uncovering the miraculous tenure for humans to reach a better lifestyle with assessing the paragon.

So, Caterina decided that two was her new favorite number. Seven, of course, makes the top of the list of all the numbers she liked, but, somehow, two made top two. How coincidental and ironic.

Really it was. It started out two weeks ago, in her office at Palazzio Spada.

Tres positioned Abel higher up his chest so the man can breathe properly without choking anymore, and to get a clear view of Cardinal Sforza. Her look changed drastically. Again, he could ‘sense’ that she has gone from ‘Nervous Mode’ to ‘Business Mode’, just like him switching from Genocide Mode to Search and Destroy. He really had to get to Father Wordsworth. All the more, because he thought his superior looked at them—not just him then Father Nightroad, but both of them at the same time, and he ‘sensed’ that she was thinking of them as in a plot of a series of unfortunate events they would soon find out. They were one in the Cardinal’s eyes, deep and calculating. They were one, not just two in that plot of hers—he could feel it.

While the Cardinal and her Gunmetal Hound battled with their reasoning, each ending up deeper into the confusion, Crusnik tipped the scale and completely drove Caterina to her choice.

“We did…” Abel lulled to himself, unsure why he was feeling so woozy at the moment. He asked the room, pleaded with his eyes what had happened—to only look, surprisingly, at Tres. Abel’s mind was blurry, feeling only hot and melted and unsure of itself if it were real. What had started that coughing fit? He was sure he already blurted it out… Or Tres did…

Now, what was he saying? If only he could hear his voice…

As he looked deeper into the cyborg’s eyes trying to find an answer through his obtuse, confused mind, all the more he couldn’t hear; he couldn’t breathe or function.

He needed air. Quickly.

Then he saw Tres’ lips moving… he’s talking, but—I can’t hear him! Abel thought.

“Yes, we did.” Tres butted in nonchalantly inferring to the Cardinal’s whispered statement, not paying close attention to his partner’s unfocused gaze.

Abel gulped. He finally noticed Tres’ hands near the base of the back of his neck and sinking low on the dip of his small of his back.

“Ah. Yes. O.K.” He blurted out disregarding his conversation with Gunslinger altogether while breaking away from Tres’ hold. His mind already died from the coughing—the lack of oxygen could cause stroke or, even more, stupidity and ignorance.

The Cardinal was plunged further into motherly madness. She decided to make the two comfortable being close while keeping it quiet. She told William to keep the rumor a secret and at bay beforehand because she was friends with Abel, and somehow knew he was straight. Now, she kept it because of the couple before her. She could see their paragon in the midst of madness—just in her office, right then and there. Her motherly affection showed for both of her AX Agents in place of her nervousness that immediately melted away. She now clearly thought of all the that she had been preparing and decided to make the two more glued together without creating too much noise about the subject.

What was she thinking?

She was thinking: I am their Cardinal. Period. I call the shots. Even with their relationships. I know what’s best for them.

“Ahem.” she voiced indignantly. Instantaneous to her cough the two men parted at a distance which both thought the other had cholera.

“Gentlemen, did you or did you not?” she needed to clear this first. “I have more important matters.”

“Uhhh… What are we talking about?” Abel thought out loud, unable to stop himself. We did what? Better let Caterina think for herself.

I really am not in the mood. Abel thought.

“I have a mission for both of you. Cardinal Medici ‘reported’ a problem to me which he got from the Department of Inquisition. Thanks to an unknown source, we now know of a ‘witch’ hiding, and even training, in the Desolate Area.” Caterina stated their mission without further delay.

“But… those grounds aren’t even mapped out properly. We don’t go there.” Abel reasoned. No way was he going there NOW.

“You are not to go there immediately without proper papers and planning. We have received word, from the same unknown source via thanks to the Department, of a place called San Van Gonza. This is where the source rumored her to be training some very extraordinary abilities.

“Cardinal Francesco Medici received word of the witch four days ago. San Van Gonza, he ‘tells’ me, is near the ridges of the Darklands by a few miles. It should be easy to spot.”

“Why is that, Milady?” Tres asked listlessly.

Caterina cleared her throat. “The place appears to be a well-kept one, regardless of its location. The Darklands are known to be unruly and ruin only graces the land apart from abnormal gray vegetation. The girl has made a cabin there. ‘Spotless’. I quote my brother. You’ll just find out for yourselves. You are dismissed. Report back here in two weeks time. One week prior to that arrangement, Tres, please see me about a project you’ll be working on. Abel, none of this ever happened. O.K.?”

With that the gentlemen retreated from the room, and immediately parted to their separate ways.

Abel stared longingly into the fountain in the plaza.

“I’m getting too old for this…” he mumbled.

I’m a 900-year-old person who doesn’t have a life outside work. I think that maybe very well an invitation to rethink my work limits.

Tres Iqus paced faster as he drew nearer the Professor’s den. He had to get inspected and upgraded to perform at 100 percent efficiency—at the very least, get the bug fixed—before returning to the Cardinal’s office and the mission date—hereafter, not bypass any professional protocol after which.

Tres entered the study and found the man he was looking for by his desk amidst all the piles of disheveled books, scattered files, and amok scribbles. “Professor, I have a malfunction; please fix the problem immediately.” Tres stated to the wad of brown papers in front of him.

As he finished, the professor wondered what was wrong with him. He just had his monthly check up two weeks ago. “Tres, my boy, what is the problem?” he inquired.

“Unable to answer: insufficient data in collected observations. But, systems failure over three protocols has been confirmed—cause of servo-systems malfunction unknown.” Tres robotically answered.

Father William W. Wordsworth wondered what exactly was wrong with the Gunslinger. He was a very capable inventor—if I say so myself—and considered a prodigy in the University of Londonium in his lifetime. Of all the hurts and troubles he had been forced to endure in that place, he still managed to land faculty in the University of Rome, thanks to Caterina. Now, he owed her Tres and AX which were both endeared to him because he helped them 'grow'. Aracanum Cella ex Domo Dei—AX, for short—was Caterina’s personal posy. And, Gunslinger, with every loyal wire folding upon the Cardinal’s feet, became part of it because of the woman. Now—he had just to figure out what in blue blazes was wrong with Tres. He had a theory of where all those ‘malfunctions’ came from, but he already cleared the cyborg of any semen from the night scuffle he had with whomever and scanned his entire body for any frits. Besides, the only other option for Tres’ lack of concentration would be—but, Tres didn’t have a sex drive. He had several bus ports in some places of his inner cavity; some open, some slotted, but no port held a sexuality drive. Gunslinger was built to only kill and obliterate all who oppose his mission’s completion and blindly follow his mistress every whim. He didn’t need one of those. William was posilutely sure that what was causing his malfunctions was not an unconscious sexual urge to find his mate again.

But, he better made sure—Garibaldi made excellent androids, and complex cyborgs. Tres was made for any type of mission and situation—any type.

“Tres, would you describe how exactly did you fail three several protocols—in detail, if you please,” William asked as he put his pipe near his bottom lip. “so that, we can make a connection to the cause from all the malfunctions.”

As William puffed smoke from his pipe, Tres explained the strange nature of his ‘malfunctions’ and the risk that was at stake if it isn’t fixed soon—he couldn’t let the Cardinal be defenseless. “Professor, the accountability in efficiency-loss, because of the information shortage and system corruption, is jeopardizing Lady Sforza.

Enlisting several systems malfunctions in protocol:
-Cardinal Caterina Sforza is not deemed full-priority in an event.
-World’s largest handguns, the twin Jericho M13s, have been engaged in non-regulatory events for simulating combat mode.
-Eavesdropping on Cardinal Caterina Sforza
Sidelining as effects of a theorized defect in systems unit function.

“You… eavesdropped on the Cardinal… when?” William languidly lolled the sentence around his pipe with his tongue. What did he hear? Did he hear us talking about the rumor?

As Tres explained his eavesdropping activity to Professor of his meeting with the Cardinal, William was at ease in the knowledge that Tres only knew that there was this urge that should be dealt with. He also found Caterina’s meeting with the two priests—in question of the rumor—quite funny. Abel—appearing as the all-natural buffoon. He guessed that Caterina will now want something out of the two. Better fix that ‘glitch’ now, before sending Tres to the Darklands. Before he would malfunction completely, or exceed mission parameters. The Darklands were not to be taken lightly.

“So, my boy, you say you ‘felt’”? William asked, one more time.

“Positive.” Tres confirmed.

“Let’s see what I can do…”

“That was really odd of Tres to just show up unscheduled at my study.” William invited himself in the office of Minister of Foreign Affairs.

“Nonsense! Father William, he always does that…” Caterina reminded Professor not bothering to look up from her paperwork.

“No, no. It’s about his check-ups. He had two check-ups this month, without even sustaining any kind of injury last week.” He muddled-mannerly told her, deep in thought.

“What was the damage?” she asked sternly. She must still handle the financial needs of her agency, after all.

“I told Tres that two wires were confused for the other, causing him to ‘feel’ lot more human by bypassing several high command protocols as useless in taking facts or information in certain circumstances.” he said as he still gazed at a spot in Caterina’s office.

“What were those protocols bypassed and what circumstances did he do those violations?” she demanded him. “I did not receive any report from Gunslinger about this—I pass those as violations, Father William.” she explained to the Father’s semi-shocked, semi-confused stare.

Professor blinked furiously to catch his brain from wandering again to the clouds. “Well… he said that he eavesdropped on us, hefted the Jericho M13s for a non-emergency or –threatening situation, and forgot something concerning you.” he listened as his mouth moved without the brain’s help. Hehehe… that’s funny.. he never forgets Caterina.

“What did he hear while eavesdropping? Is he able to do that, and how? What did concern me? What did he forgot? And, I know that your mind is still processing something elsewhere, William—focus.” The Cardinal interrogated William harshly.

He smiled, defeated. It was not good to be called without any title and by first name in the office at the Spada. It meant that she was getting annoyed—in William’s case, he didn’t give the information she needed to understand the situation fully. In her line of work, she strives on information, data, and facts.

“Guilty as charged.”


“He took a deep breath, and—“While walking back from mass, you assigned the poor fellow with Abel to a mission in Timisoara, to check out the zombie rumor—three days back? Before that, he heard us—don’t worry; he only heard the last parts—and made a note to check on you a week later. Well… he said he forgot about you because, two days back, the chap had seemed to back the information on internal time function—to be notified at a later date—because he was busy planning, then, administrating a compromise in their situation there at having Esther as a stow-away. He said he ‘felt’ constricted at having Esther there. Drowning out all responsibility for the time-being, except the mission, he left the poor sister with Crusnik. After a day, he continued to patrol by himself as usual, but was unwilling of the sister to accompany the oddball to explore the church at the edge of the city—where the two found the Fleur du Mal NEO quarters and the zombies. Tres eventually came to the scene because of ‘protection purposes for Father Nightroad’.”

William choked on the air that suddenly filled his lungs with new vitality and life. The long declaration wasn’t even finished yet…

“Caterina looked up and blinked twice at William. “Congratulations, Father. You made quite the two-minute speech.”

“Ahh…” William was glad he got that off completely—Caterina looks contented enough. “Everything happening seems to happen in twos.” he chuckled. “Poor Tres. Doesn’t even know what’s going on and what wires got mixed up!”

She could trust him, right? “Father, what were those wires?”

The Cardinal had the look in her eyes. The look that says I have a plan and your part of my schemes whether you like it or not; and, most of her plans—with a look like that—include a lot of complex stuff that he didn’t want to participate in. “Well… the time regulator and mode transistor—why do you ask?” he said it as politely as possible. He could at least try to break for freedom.

Not a chance, William. “I have something in mind—but I need your help to construct a fool-proof plan to put my motive into action.” Caterina beamed a sticky-sweet mischievous smile.

I do not like that smile.’ said I. ‘I do not like that smile.’ The Professor feared for those innocent souls that the Cardinal might blight. Or burn…


Insanely me ;)

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