you know my name [ emilio ]

[Nikki]

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[attr="class","nikkipostlyric"]YOU KNOW MY NAME

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[attr="class","nikkipostlyric3"]AND IF YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, YOU NEVER SAW ME CHANGE

[attr="class","nikkipostlyrics4"]ARM YOURSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HERE WILL SAVE YOU

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Nikki was not an idle man. Sitting around in nothing but leisure left him anxious, thoughts of all of the things he could and should be doing spoiling any bit of reprieve he may have had and pulling him back into motion. There was so much work out there to be done, an entire nation that needed to be weeded of its corruption, and if he were caught resting on his hunches, who on Earth could the common folk expect to rise up from ruin to do just that? Life had been all work and no play – not that he'd ever really minded, drunk on apprehension, thirsty for another hit, more black blood on his hands – for so long that he'd forgotten what it felt like to sit back and relax, and he'd definitely missed out on all of the things that down time came with. Things were different here on the island, however. For one thing, there was no revolution, and there was no Doctor X. Evil still ran rampant just under the people's noses, but in smaller numbers, and with more people working alongside him to crush them before they became a problem. He waited, prayed for a new mission, but there would simply be sleepless days where there was nothing the enigmatic council could dig up from their files to give him to do. Justice never sleeps in comic books, but his heroism has always been colored in black and white. And when there's no villains to put a bullet in the head of, he's left with the simplest things still foreign to him: glasses perched on his nose and a line of patrons waiting for their drink at a coffee store.[break][break]

It wasn't not for him, heavens no. The hitman had enough trouble getting his body to fall asleep and stay asleep without the added toxin of caffeine running wild through his system. The girl who spent about as much time in their shared apartment as he (which was to say: not very much), however, had only made one menial request of him so far, and with nothing better to do than comply, he'd found himself on a coffee run for her sake. Straight black. Funny; he'd always figured they only drank that stuff on television. A mental image of the task hadn't taken long to stir up in his head before he'd accepted – people didn't drink that much coffee, so chances were that the place would be near empty, right? – and the idealistic imagine had been about the only thing that had him begrudgingly taking it upon himself. Reality, though, had slapped him upside the had immediately upon walking through those doors. There shouldn't have been a line at all, much less one this impossibly long, and he'd already spent ten minutes rocking on his feet under the oppressive gaze of literally everyone else in the store. (It was paranoia talking to him, an unrealistic expectation, but the pinprick of eyes on him was real to him.) It only served as a reminder of why he didn't like free time; why he didn't like going out where everyone could see and hate him when he had it.[break][break]

“Number eight!”[break][break]

Finally, he huffed in silence, stuffing his hands in his pockets uselessly only to have to take them out once he'd made his way to the counter. His problem didn't lie with the person behind the counter, hard as they may have found that to believe with the daggers he was probably firing their way, but followed in closer pursuit of the antsiness that came with with no real target or reason. Ten minutes for a black coffee was understandable during a rush as bad as this (not that he knew what it might have looked like when it wasn't a rush), but ten minutes in broad daylight made him more irritable than usual. It was for this reason that he swore – loudly – when that very same coffee was sent airborne just seconds after he'd gotten it, courtesy of a collision with another raven-haired man in the shop. Worse, still, was exactly where that coffee went: all over the stranger. Wonderful. Would that mean he'd have to go back to the end of the line to sit through this whole waiting game again? Or maybe the staff had seen this travesty and would cut him a break, even if they made him pay for the coffee twice.[break][break]

“Shit – sorry,” Nikki apologized dismissively, eyes flickering between the victim of his mental distance and the counter for any sign of the latter option happening. Accidents happened, after all, so the person couldn't be that upset – and he was really banking on getting out of this hell hole as soon as humanly possible. “You okay?”

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[music]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1gk2ju5gy1vka6g/Chris%20Cornell-%20Casino%20Royale%20Theme-%20You%20Know%20My%20Name.mp3?dl=0[/music]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot2"]NOTES

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] 804 WORDS

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] Emilio Ota

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does homura even drink coffee? for the sake of this thread, she does. c': hi, introducing nikki, he's really unlikable in this post.

[Emilio Ota]

The sunlight ached in Emilio's eyes, still freshly opened and half asleep. He'd trudged through the morning with no sense of urgency. While within the revolution, he'd been quick to rise, quick to work, now that he was here and working in retail of all things, that sense of urgency had faded. There was no one to fight, no government he was working to overthrow. He didn't even know anything about the government here aside from the basics, despite the effort he'd put into finding out. He'd decided to put off finding out more about the government and focus on getting by in the god forsaken island. At the moment, that meant coffee.

Emilio mechanically went through the motions. He waited patiently in line and scrolled through social media on his phone as he waited his turn. Unfortunately, he didn't follow many people. He couldn't even access most of his old social media and really it was a wonder his phone worked at all in this reality. It saddened him to see the apps on his phone that only produced error screens when opened. The island provided its own variety of social media, but Emilio simply didn't know the right people to properly establish a feed he found interesting. As he dug his hands into the underbelly of this place, though, he would find them.

"A large cold brew." He paused to think for just a moment, "Actually, two, please." Coffee would surely make the morning easier for both him and Lorelei and the longer they stayed in good moods, the less exhausted they would be. Lying as a spy had been fun enough and tiring, sure, but having to lie to customers? The fake smiles and fake understanding as customers yell and run him in circles in an attempt to bend him to their will? It was just so exhausting. Being a little late to work because of coffee would be fine.

"Number eight!" A barista called out, then a moment later, "Number nine!" And he stepped forward, but he hasn't been paying enough attention and so he and Number Eight collided. Hot coffee quickly soaked through his shirt and burned at his skin, but suddenly he didn't care. He knew that voice. He knew that face. A wrath suddenly crashed over him and his hands itched, aching for the familiar feeling of his handgun in his grip or the handle of a knife. He had neither of those things, though, as he looked straight into the eyes of Nikolai Strauss and perhaps this was for the best. Given he'd had either of those weapons, he'd have been on him already, but the tragic lack of them gave him the seconds to consider the situation. Although this man surely wore the same face as dear old Nikki, he really had no idea who he was. Emilio wasn't all that familiar with the details, but he knew well enough the basics: an infinite number of universes with an infinite number of possibilities. This Nikki could be a completely different person. Maybe in his reality, he never betrayed Doctor X. Maybe he never met him or maybe he hadn't ever been born. He didn't know, but he knew that undue attention would only hurt him so he stilled his hands.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where i was going. What did you have?" Emilio played nice. He hid away his thoughts and with expertise he played the apologetic innocent. He knew nothing. Nikki was just an unfortunate stranger. " I'll get you a new one." While he waited for them to pour another black coffee, he attempted to dab at the coffee that stained his shirt. He made a little progress before the barista quickly handed it to him. Emilio picked it up and then thrust it into Nikki's hands. Ah, but now how did he keep this going? He needed to know if he was going to get into a fight today.

"I uh okay so this might be weird, but you look like someone I used to know before I woke up on this island." Sheepish, embarrassed, played with an acceptable amount of looks away, shifts in weight, and anxious hand gestures, "I mean I don't think you're from where I am, because you don't recognize me, but is it okay if we talk for a moment? Not here, though, unless you want to. You look likd you've got a place to be. Walk and talk?" Take the bait, Emilio silently begged, fall for the act and fall into his hands. The nikki he knew hadn't been too bright, he prayed this one was just the same.

If this worked out, he was going to be terribly late for work and maybe Lorelei would chew him out, but for this it would surely be worth it. For some semblance of revenge, on this godforsaken island he would die happy. Surely she would understand. They were, after all, of similar nature.

[Nikki]

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[attr="class","nikkipostlyric"]YOU KNOW MY NAME

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[attr="class","nikkipostlyric3"]AND IF YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, YOU NEVER SAW ME CHANGE

[attr="class","nikkipostlyrics4"]ARM YOURSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HERE WILL SAVE YOU

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Nikki was not a smart man by any means. He did not recognize tells in the faces of others to give him insight to their true intentions or feelings – although, considering who he was looking at now, the skill wouldn't have done him any good right then, anyway – and he did not consider ulterior motives when they were made obvious to him. There was always suspicion, of course, afforded even to those who wore expression brighter than the sun and probably couldn't harm an ant even if they so desired, but rarely did he think about potential betrayals or schemes those people who doubted could be getting up to. He typically just figured they secretly wished him ill will and went on with his life, head ducked and feet carrying him fast and away from crowds before they could all start shouting accusations. This time, though, something set him off immediately. Anyone else would have been elated just to have an act of kindness enacted on their behalf, accepted the fresh coffee with a smile and a “thank you”, and have been on their way. The difference was that people didn't do nice things for Nikki. Not even the sweet Sister Mary had kept him company of her own volition; all she'd done was sat around as per her own personal orders, and it was only on growing attached that they ever did anything of kindness toward one another. Even the most “caring” of people only tried to talk his ear off, and the best thing they could do for him was leave him alone. No, no, this man wasn't buying him a new coffee out of the goodness of his heart. God wouldn't let something like that happen to him. Instead, this guy wanted something out of him. The way he ever-so-calmly tried to remedy the massive, wet coffee stain on his shirt like it wasn't a deal in the slightest only hammered in the fact. Too bad he, himself, didn't have the slightest clue what that could possibly be.[break][break]

“I, uh – Okay, so this might be weird, but you look like someone I used to know before I woke up on this island.” Aha. Bingo. The hitman wouldn't lie: He, himself, had been getting some deja vu vibes the longer that he looked this “benevolent” man in the face, almost as though he recognized them from somewhere before. The truth of the matter, though, was that Nikki had spared little time for other people back in Seattle, and only those who found themselves a subject of hate or were prominent enough members of the revolution left a lasting mark in his mind. That, and a bit of trauma-induced amnesia probably didn't help keeping all of those past names and faces up in his mind. At best, the coffee wielder before him was someone he'd met maybe once or twice back home – which would've made for quite the coincidence, but wasn't so big a deal for him to make a fuss over – or was just a result of some great deal of luck and had never met Nikki before this very day. “I mean, I don't think you're from where I am, because you don't recognize me, but is it okay if we talk for a moment?” Talk? With a stranger? Even if he supposedly knew who he was (or an alternate universe's incarnation of him, anyway), the idea of loitering around in a public coffee shop making awkward small talk didn't exactly sound insanely appealing. After all, he had places to - “Not here, though, unless you want to. You look like you've got a place to be. Walk and talk?”[break][break]

Well, shit, there went his one valid excuse. “Uh... Sure, I guess,” he said slowly, silently hoping for some sort of Deus Ex Machina to descend from the heavens and save him from a conversation he absolutely did not want to have. This black coffee wasn't even for him. He didn't really owe this man anything short of the apology he'd already given. “I'm just goin' back to the apartments, so you've got 'til we split up to ask what you wanna.” Maybe if he walked fast enough, he hazarded as he made a quick-paced bee-line straight for the entrance, pushing past other customers that got in his way the whole way there, he could make this as swift and painless as possible.[break][break]

Broad daylight still hurt Nikki's eyes – compliments of a nocturnal lifestyle and a severe, constant lack of sleep – and he found himself squinting harshly against the semi-cloudy skies of the outside world, stranger in tow. Dang, that girl better be grateful for this. There were some unexpected hoops presented to him that he really didn't care to jump through. “So, you... knew me? Or another me, right? How's that?”

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[music]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1gk2ju5gy1vka6g/Chris%20Cornell-%20Casino%20Royale%20Theme-%20You%20Know%20My%20Name.mp3?dl=0[/music]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot2"]NOTES

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] 813 WORDS

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] Emilio Ota

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wow, i am. not moving this plot along very well at all. i swear i'll churn out better posts as this gets going.

[Emilio Ota]

Emilio beamed, delighted in his agreement, and it didn't falter even as Nikki took off to a quick start. Emilio kept up easily enough, slipping through the crowd where Nikki decided to push. It wasn't a surprise, Nikki's urgency. This sort of game had never been one for him, after all. Borderline paranoia drove Nikki away from social interaction, he wanted out of this, and the only reason he'd agreed to this was because Emilio covered the easy way out. He did wonder, though, why Nikki simply hadn't said no, but he supposed it was there in the urgency with which he walked. And Nikki wasn't known for his intelligence, anyway.

"Well, you look like Nikki and where I'm from, Nikki's a hero." It almost hurt to say the words, but he forced the admiration in his voice, "He stopped a rebellion, an entire civil war. In the beginning, he was part of the rebellion. He admitted to assassinating several of the groups enemies, but he forced to do it by the group's leader. Eventually, he was able to break free and take them down. There was a big award ceremony and everything, all over national television. His girlfriend was there, too. Mary, I think?" Emilio liked to think he was good at digging his fingers into people, but Nikki wasn't exactly his usual target. He'd had minimal interactions with him before and what he knew now was simply what he'd heard from rumors and Doctor X. Surely, though, this would be enough. If he truly knew nothing or was offended by the idea of betraying the group, then Emilio would be in his way.

This wasn't his Nikki, though. He knew that much, because even he could realize that the chance of that happening was so astronomically low. It wasn't enough to deter him, though, or make him second guess his decisions. This was dangerous and this could very well end with Nikki standing over his corpse, but really, what did he have to lose? He couldn't go home and if he was going to die on this god forsaken island, better it be fighting someone he so despised.

[Nikki]

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[attr="class","nikkipostlyric"]YOU KNOW MY NAME

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[attr="class","nikkipostlyric3"]AND IF YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, YOU NEVER SAW ME CHANGE

[attr="class","nikkipostlyrics4"]ARM YOURSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HERE WILL SAVE YOU

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Nikki held very little interest for what this man had to say before he'd even started to speak his mind. The question he'd posed was formality, his acceptance of the terms in the first place an easier escape route than saying “no” and being hounded as to why he'd refused. His original intent had been to half pay attention; nod his head like a good listener every so often, but ultimately keep his mind on what was actually important. His Beretta was running low on ammunition, for example, the likes of which could only be resupplied by the council legally, and he had to make sure the kid he was grabbing this coffee for wasn't out trying to get herself killed. No matter how capable she appeared to be (was), she was still just a kid. Call it a talk from experience, but the idea of sending teenagers out to do bloodied work like theirs rubbed him the wrong way. Once he started thinking about this kind of stuff, it was hard to pull him back out of it, and he was all too ready to think of ways to check up on her without making it too obvious when the stranger started to speak. It shouldn't have been a problem. Really. Of course, he hadn't been expecting to hear what he did. Maybe they'd been neighbors in some mundane alternate reality, or maybe one of them was a florist the other one visited with frequency; that's what he'd thought. From what this man said, though, Nikki had been neither. What he had been was - “Well, you look like Nikki, and where I'm from, Nikki's a hero.”[break][break]

A hero. Someone called him a hero. His step faltered, flickered – a reaction that he stifled and forced himself to ignore in favor of continuing walking. There was no possible way that this alternate version of himself had received praise for what he wanted. No one knew of Mindcrime outside of its members, and there was no possible way that he could have taken them out by his lonesome. It was also impossible that he'd gone to some higher form of organization for help; the police wouldn't have rather driven him through with a stake than believe a world out of his mouth. (His word versus that of Doctor X. Of course no one would believe him.) Fuck. The last thing he needed to be thinking about now was his former occupation, and definitely his former employer. Whatever this other Nikki had done, he didn't care. If anything, he only hated him all the more for it, that “hero” title of his. Probably sucked up to the corrupt rather than worked to strike them down. But the person following him wasn't don't talking yet, instead proceeding to go on a mini rant about what, exactly, Other Nikki had done to earn himself such a grandiose title, words sprinkled prettily with admiration he didn't realize was false. The revelation... come as a shock, at the very least. “He stopped a rebellion, an entire civil war. In the beginning, he was part of the rebellion. He admitted to assassinating several of the group's enemies, but he was forced to do it by the group's leader. Eventually he was able to break free and take them down.”[break][break]

The Operation. Other Nikki had been part of the Operation.[break][break]

More importantly, though, he'd stopped it.[break][break]

It took a great deal of effort to keep his stride going (although, the observant might notice that it had slowed to a regular pace, a sign that this coffee wielder had earned his attention in full), but he succeeded through a mind swirling with thoughts. Was this... supposed to make him happy? To an extent, it did. It only proved that he'd done the right thing by leaving the Doctor and his evil money scheme behind, and that he could have had his revenge had the hospital not swallowed him whole first. But then – was it really better to defeat the revolution? Its leader was as sick as the men he ordered killed, but the media probably had a hay day pointing out why attempts to upheave the government were wrong, and the people like this guy probably didn't understand the real nature of why it was good that they were gone. Armed with that knowledge, it was almost... sad. He, himself, would have never gotten the chance to find out himself. His reality was a world of hate; in the game he played, X had won. “That's... good for him, the hitman spoke through gritted teeth. “No revolution got beat out where I came from.” But the story still wasn't over – and of everything told to him so far, nothing struck quite like the ending.[break][break]

“There was a big award ceremony and everything all over the television. His girlfriend was there, too. Mary I think?”[break][break]

In an instant, Nikki was turned on his heels, arms reached out to grab for the other's shoulders – a lifeline, a support, proof that he and his words were real. “Mary?” he repeated in disbelief, words loud and sharp and enough to scare off the birds that loitered overhead. “Mary was there? She was – she was okay? The Doc didn't get to her first?”

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[music]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1gk2ju5gy1vka6g/Chris%20Cornell-%20Casino%20Royale%20Theme-%20You%20Know%20My%20Name.mp3?dl=0[/music]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot2"]NOTES

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] 884 WORDS

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] Emilio Ota

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hopefully this proof will suffice, emmy. ;o

[Emilio Ota]

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[attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]YOU CAN'T RUN[break] SO YOU MUST HIDE [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]YOU WON'T MAKE IT BACK THIS TIME [attr="class","manalishilpost"] It was funny and Emilio was giddy under his lies. He'd noticed how the pace had changed and he knew he held his full attention. This wasn't mere curiosity from Nikki, though, it was familiarity. "How did the revolution there go?" He could almost hear it on Nikki's lips. And his comments, of never winning against the operation, what was all Emilio really needed for proof. That was enough to know that he'd betrayed the cause and, more importantly, he'd betrayed Doctor X. The lingering questions of what did he do after that were tucked neatly away. While his Nikki eventually tried to rally a counter force against the revolution, it just didn't matter. The betrayal was all that mattered because that alone merited a strong punishment. Even with his answer, though, he kept going. He wanted to dig into Nikki's wounds and open them up again. Mary was the reason for it all. If she'd never been there, if Nikki'd never fallen for her, maybe he never would've betrayed them. Ah, but no, that wasn't right, was it? While Emilio had never worked with Nikki and rarely saw him, he could understand the changes when he did. What excitement he'd once had had turned dull. It had only been a matter of time before he'd want out. It was easy to blame Mary, though, it was easy to use her against him.[break][break] Mary, Mary, oh he so delighted in the way that grabbed his attention. At the mere mention of her life, of some sort of happy ending, Nikki moved to grab onto his shoulders, as if to assure that this was real. Emilio danced quickly back and out of Nikki's reach. The look on Nikki's face. The disbelief, the way he yelled her name. It was just so funny. This was Nikki? This was pathetic. [break][break] "It would be nice if you that was true, right? And maybe in some backwater reality, it is." Emilio laughed, because he had his answer and he couldn't keep this game up anymore. Admiration and cheer fell to wrath and malice, mask dropped in an instant. "I still can't imagine any Nikki doing anything other than betraying the only man who ever loved his worthless addict self. Don't get me wrong, though, I know that you're not the Nikki I know, but I can't just walk away from this. This is personal." He spit the words and he jumped forward. He had to have the upper hand, because he'd never actually seen Nikki fight, so he punched first and hard one after another. He had to beat him down while he could, because Nikki was bigger and an unknown and he'd never been in a fight so blind before. The fear rushed through him and he smiled, giddy at the mere prospect of ruining some part of Nikki. Giddy off the threat, the danger, the challenge. His anger overrode his excitement, though, and only his wrath radiated so clearly from him. [break][break] "He loved you, Nikki, you were like a son to him and you— you threw it all away for a fucking girl? Do you know how broken he was after you hurt him like that?" He shouted through his attacks, "How could you do that to him?" [attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"] wild shrugging

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[Nikki]

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[attr="class","nikkipostlyric"]YOU KNOW MY NAME

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[attr="class","nikkipostlyric3"]AND IF YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, YOU NEVER SAW ME CHANGE

[attr="class","nikkipostlyrics4"]ARM YOURSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HERE WILL SAVE YOU

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He saw the shift in expression even through his lovesick haze, watched as that cheer, that awe-struck expression melted away to reveal raw maliciousness at its core. It was enough to strike him out of his previous train of thought, important as the safety of Mary (in another universe or no) was and how easily it consumed all other thought. It was enough because it was familiar. This was what it looked like to see friend become foe in the span of a single second. This was what intent looked like, and if Nikki knew one thing about the human race and their intents, it was that those reasons were never good – at least, never good for Nikki himself. “It would be nice for you if that was true, right?” he was saying, and no sooner than the final words had dropped from those lips did he find himself recoiling as though burned, scorched by steam that radiated off of his less-than-pleasant conversation partner. (He hadn't even made physical contact.) “And maybe in some backwater reality, it is.” And then there came the laugh – cold, dead, a forced thing of broken amusement – and that was the precise tipping point. Intuition had to be right, didn't it? No one did him an act of kindness without some ulterior motive stashed up their sleeve, and this was the revelation of that very motive. He hadn't been dragged out here to be preached as some kind of hero. The story had been a farce, something to drag him out to... here, wherever here was, an empty street in the middle of the island where there wasn't a soul around to witness whatever was about to happen. Was he getting mugged? Kidnapped? Shot?[break][break]

So be it if he was. He knew a thing or two about getting his revenge, the Omega Five would probably track him down if he disappeared off the radar, and death... Death didn't hold the same fear as it used to.[break][break]

He was prepared for those, any of them, the inevitability of a knife to his throat or a gun to his head, that he didn't expect an extended monologue. Those options also didn't answer how this guy knew his name or had some understanding of what had happened with the Operation, either, nor did the explain how he knew anything about what he sneered next: “I still can't imagine any Nikki doing anything other than betraying the only man who ever loved his worthless addict self. Don't get me wrong, though. I know that you're not the Nikki I know. But I can't just walk away from this. This is personal.” A “worthless addict”; maybe that would have been an appropriate title three years ago, but not anymore. How did this person know him? And what was with all of that talk about betrayal? It had only just started to dawn on him that the aforementioned man was likely the one man in his life who couldn't have loved him any less from his perspective, though, when it struck him out of the blue. Not a knife or a gun. Not a thought, either. A fist, out of the blue, colliding with his unguarded face with all of the force of a man fighting for this life. “This was personal” really weren't the dang words. In an instant, the hitman was knocked on his rear, nose exploding with pain, but before the unintelligent noise of pain escaping his throat could be correctly morphed into real English words, the blow was followed by another. And another.[break][break]

“He loved you, Nikki -” the mad man was shouting through his barrage of anger driven punches, fists knuckle white first, then stained red with the blood that dribbled down through an injured nose. “- you were like a son to him, and you – you threw it all away for a fucking girl? Do you know how broken he was after you hurt him like that? How could you do that to him?” Crimson was staining his vision and a sound not unlike static from a television with no signal was settling into the place where those horrendous voices usually liked to kick in, but through the haze of his shocked mind and the pain of a crushing attack followed by another crushing attack, the pieces finally fit together in his mind: There was still no clear indication of who this person was, no name to assign to his face, but the fact that he knew Doctor X and held him up to some sort of regard, higher than that man would ever deserve was clearer than the sun swimming in the sky. This was dedication that rivaled perhaps only his own in his early days of working with the revolution, the outburst of someone getting revenge for the supposed “breaking” of the man caused by his leaving. And if these were the facts, cold and hard, perhaps he would have let himself take this beating, sat down like a ragdoll as he willingly let a stranger from a parallel universe to his own rip him apart at the seems; but the fact of the matter was that those weren' the facts. The only person who had betrayed anyone here was X himself, and the only victims of that past crime were the revolutionist, bloodied and beaten on the ground, and the other supposed revolutionist, the bringer of that blood and that beating. He didn't leave the man who viewed him as a son for “fucking girl”; he left a twisted, greedy liar for a woman who was long overdue for a bit of kindness. (He wasn't going to be that man's pawn any longer.)[break][break]

Memory stirred up images of training long finished, maneuvers that could just have easily gotten him killed as they could have pulled him out of a sticky situation that had been drilled into his mind more than three years prior, and he mimicked it to the best of his ability to wretch himself free of the nameless assailant and his machine gun blows. In seconds, he was a free man, stumbling to his feet and spitting blood out of his mouth that belonged to no one but himself. Odd. Usually it was the other way around. “What – the – hell?” Nikki fought to say. His attempts at wiping the blood from his nose only succeeded in smearing them across his face and over the flesh of his wrist; an irritation that only spat gasoline on the fires that this... freak had set ablaze. No one idolized the Doctor with him around to hear it. Not if they had a brain in that skull. “You're talking about X, right? Doctor fucking X? I dunno where you got this whole 'like a son' thing from, but you're sounding about as brainwashed as everyone else in that goddamned 'revolution'. If you knew anything at all, you would be callin' me a hero. At least I'm not still playing dog for that fucking hypocrite!”

[attr="class","nikkipostbot"]

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[music]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1gk2ju5gy1vka6g/Chris%20Cornell-%20Casino%20Royale%20Theme-%20You%20Know%20My%20Name.mp3?dl=0[/music]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot2"]NOTES

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] 1176 WORDS

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] Emilio Ota

[attr="class","nikkipostbot4"]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot5"]

nikki due for a passionate swear word-filled rant in less than *looks at watch* three posts.

[Emilio Ota]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","manalishi"]

[attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]YOU CAN'T RUN[break] SO YOU MUST HIDE [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]YOU WON'T MAKE IT BACK THIS TIME [attr="class","manalishilpost"] It felt good. His hands ached and his heart thudded in his chest, but god, he felt alive. When was the last time he'd been in a fist fight? His entire specialty was taking targets out from a distance and so he'd almost forgotten the thrill, the high of a good fist fight. He couldn't help the smile, the bitter laughter. This could all go so very wrong, he knew that, but he was having fun with this. The feeling of Nikki's nose breaking, of bloodied knuckles. He wanted to etch it into his memory. He never wanted to forget these sensations.[break][break] It was only a matter of time before Nikki reacted, but it was still over too soon. Emilio quickly retreated back a few steps as Nikki twisted away from him. The expected counter attack did not come and instead of fists, he was attacked with disgusted words. Still, he didn't let his guard down as he caught his breath. "Maybe yours was different, but the Doctor X I know? Didn't need to brainwash anyone. Why the fuck would he? The country's falling apart and he's the only one who's trying to fix it!" He spat, "We got so far, even without you, or rather our Nikki, I suppose. Got the entire west half of the U.S. We were so close, so fucking close and I'm suddenly stuck here with a fuck like you. I'm gonna make the most of it, though."[break][break] Emilio Ota had started death in the face a number of times in his life. He'd danced that dance and memorized the steps. He wasn't scared, but it didn't make him reckless, because he knew he was better alive than dead. His familiarity with death only sharpened the edge of his fury. And so he skirted around and jumped forward again, fists at the ready and taking every opportunity presented. He wasn't interested in talk, only action. He wasn't there to convince Nikki he was wrong. He was there to hurt him. Nothing more and nothing less. Revenge, some ease to his aching soul. He may not be able to go home, but perhaps he could get some measure of justice. Justice for the way he hurt the good doctor, for how he turned his back on the cause, of everything that was good and just. [Break][break] Ah, if only Nikki would just die already. [attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"] wild shrugging

[attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] Nikki

[attr="class","leapcred"]leap codes

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[Nikki]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","nikkipost"]

[attr="class","nikkiposttop"]

[attr="class","nikkipostimg"]

[attr="class","nikkiposttop2"]

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric"]YOU KNOW MY NAME

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric2"]

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric3"]AND IF YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, YOU NEVER SAW ME CHANGE

[attr="class","nikkipostlyrics4"]ARM YOURSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HERE WILL SAVE YOU

[attr="class","nikkipostmid"]



There had always been a difference between physical pain and mental pain. They both had their sting, of course – he was no stranger to getting smacked around, what with bad reaction times of the past and his general inability to take a blow that persisted even after weeks or rigorous training – but after facing head on what had to be the worst of both, he definitely knew which one he would take over the other. Split lips and broken bones mended with time, often before a season had passed. There may be a scare, an insignificant patch of distorted flesh to remind one of the old injury, but scars could be covered, could be forgotten. It had been three fucking years since his would-be “father” left him crying in a puddle of rainwater mixed with his own heartbroken tears, though, and the knife in his gut never stopped turning at the mention of him. Even the thought of him now had bile rising up high in the back of his throat, and telling someone who should know better exactly why he deserved to be rolling in a shallow grave right about then was about the only thing that had helped to alleviate the feeling of illness at all. The problem was that Nikki was an idealist, always had been, cursed by fanatical mental images and goals beyond what any singular person could ever hope to accomplish. His worst crime was thinking he ever had what it took to single-handedly change the world (a goal that he couldn't bring himself to lose, driven partly by fantasy, partly by guilt over the lives he had unknowingly stole). His lowest was thinking that a passionate speech from the heart could change the mind of any he'd ever speak to. It had worked for him once that he could think of, perhaps more in the dank and dreary halls of Seattle's one and only headquarters for the Operation, but those had only ever been exceptions. His words hadn't reached his assailant. (Would they ever?)[break][break]

And just like that, there came the rebuttal, each new word a fresh dagger through his flesh, each idea a fracture in his bones. The broken nose had hurt plenty, sure, was still throbbing even as they spoke, but nothing hurt him more than being faced with someone who honestly believed that that fiend had wanted to save anything but his own bank account. “Maybe yours was different, but the Doctor X I know? Didn't need to brainwash anyone. Why the fuck would he? The country's falling apart and he's the only one who's trying to fix it!” Didn't need to brainwash anyone – of course he didn't. He never had to. He wrapped them all up like Christmas presents, packaged pretty with big red bow ties, only to throw them down into the incinerator once he got sick of them. A true child, giddy with excitement at the prospect of a new toy only to throw them to oblivion the moment they lost their shine. “Tell yourself that. Fine. But take one long look at all those people he had us kill and it becomes pretty fucking obvious that they weren't for some 'greater good', just to off the competition. Maybe get some revenge without having to get any of the blood on his perfect little hands. I mean, why the hell else would William get to live and not – not – ” Mary. Sweet, innocent Mary. She wasn't an information leak no matter how one looked at it, and the Doctor... he knew that. It was a test: His loyalty against his willingness to do evil. The man had already made it clear that they had come from vastly different universes, but just as he'd been told that the other couldn't imagine a Nikki who didn't defect from X and his false revolution, Nikki, himself, couldn't imagine a Doctor who cared for anything other than himself.[break][break]

“We got so far, even without you, or rather our Nikki, I suppose. Got the entire west half of the U.S. we were so close, so fucking close and I'm suddenly stuck here with a fuck like you. I'm gonna make the most of it, though.”[break][break]

What a horrifying concept: half the country in the hands of that man. He'd say it aloud if he had the time, but just like last time, his attacker wasted no time to get a breath in before going in for the strike. This time, though, he saw it coming before it had even begun. The attack came from the same angle as before – high, an aim for the face, the neck, the arms – so Nikki moved down, folded his legs and sprang for what was beneath. Taking out the legs could knock the man over, maybe land him hard enough on his head to put him in a daze. If worse came to worse, there was always the gun in his coat, but even if there was a lack of visual company, that didn't stop the sound of gunfire from spreading up and far away from the scene of the crime. Besides, he needed to make sure this person listened, really listened to what it was he had to say, and getting the message across with a bullet through the shoulder really wasn't the right way to go about doing that.[break][break]

“Would you open your eyes?” he grunted as he sprang, the entirety of his weight behind his action. “I know – I know what all his pretty words sound like, an' I know it's shit tryin' to accept that he didn't care about you. About... About us. But he was using us! We were just weapons to him, people to blame all of his crimes on! You know it, I know you do! Just look at the facts!”

[attr="class","nikkipostbot"]

[attr="class","nikkipostbotright"]
[music]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1gk2ju5gy1vka6g/Chris%20Cornell-%20Casino%20Royale%20Theme-%20You%20Know%20My%20Name.mp3?dl=0[/music]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot2"]NOTES

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] 979 WORDS

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] Emilio Ota

[attr="class","nikkipostbot4"]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot5"]

Emmy just wants to fight, Nikki just wants to keep PASSIONATE SPEECHing.

[Emilio Ota]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","manalishi"]

[attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]YOU CAN'T RUN[break] SO YOU MUST HIDE [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]YOU WON'T MAKE IT BACK THIS TIME [attr="class","manalishilpost"] Ah— That was a mistake. The thought shot through his mind as Nikki dropped down and lunged and suddenly Emilio saw the crisp blue sky above and he hated it. The same colour blue, it felt like it was lying to him. Not his sky, not his world, not his home. He knew not a face. Even this Nikki was different. All alone in this world and there was no going home. Stuck in a fake world with a fake Nikki where even though he was hurting him his anger didn't abate. It swelled stronger and stronger in bitterness until it choked him. He wanted to cry, he was so angry, and as his head slammed against the pavement, tears did bloom briefly in his eyes. But he blinked them away as hos body moved on its own, following instructions carved deep into his bones. Action without thought, while he tried to blink the black dancing spots from his vision, he smacked at Nikki. As his head cleared, the attacks became sharper and more accurate, the intent to maim and kill in every thudding hit.[break][break] "He was fixing everything." The first words out of his mouth were delivered in a razor sharp shout, "I saw it, Nikki, because I replaced you. The people I killed valued their own money over the humanity of others, over the humanity of people like me. My people, that's who I was fighting for and Doctor X was carving for us a place where we didn't have to wonder if we were going to fucking eat that night. I saw it Nikki. I helped fucking make it. You left everyone to die when you left! Too much of a fucking coward to cut out the cancer killing the country." He kicked at him, punched until he could get free. "But I'm not fucking interested in converting you, though, I'm interested in killing you. So cut the talk and fight me."[break][break] He hated what Nikki was shouting. Not because he believed his words applied to his own iteration of Doctor X, but because Nikki so believed them. Did they truly apply to Nikki's own Doctor X. It was possible, certainly, and it ached in his chest that a version of Doctor X could do something so senselessly cruel. To be used by the type you so despised without even knowing? How horrible. But his Doctor X, Alexander Wayne, the man who, in a weird way, was the closest thing to a father Emilio had? He wasn't like that. He wasn't the person who this Nikki hated with such passion. He delivered on his promises. And no one went to war like theirs for money. They weren't big enough, a strong enough force to profit from the civil war they ignited. There was nothing Nikki could say to convince him that his own Doctor X was using them all for his own profit. Absolutely nothing. [attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"] wild shrugging

[attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] Nikki

[attr="class","leapcred"]leap codes

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[Nikki]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","nikkipost"]

[attr="class","nikkiposttop"]

[attr="class","nikkipostimg"]

[attr="class","nikkiposttop2"]

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric"]YOU KNOW MY NAME

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric2"]

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric3"]AND IF YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, YOU NEVER SAW ME CHANGE

[attr="class","nikkipostlyrics4"]ARM YOURSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HERE WILL SAVE YOU

[attr="class","nikkipostmid"]



It work, miraculously, the plan to down his unnamed assailant and put a halt to the onslaught of painful strikes, if only for a moment. Down the two went, knees scraped against gravel, heads slammed into concrete, and for one half second, the street may have even had the reprieve of a moment's silence had Nikki not been shouting to high oblivion over it. There was rage blossomed angrily in heart, that was for certain – the buds were always there, waiting to be watered by any thought or mention of the man he'd once looked to as a father, and to hear not only of him, but to hear someone singing his praise was enough to nearly choke him from the inside, flowers of hate spinning and curling and clawing at the inside of his lungs – but there was something else he hadn't expected hidden beneath that suffocating mass of foliage that had panic welling in him as well at the sudden stillness of a man struck too hard in the head. This person was deluded, clearly, and sought him dead based on misconceptions from an alternate reality, but there had been a time, too, when he, himself, would have gone on a witch hunt for any and all who might have ever spoken of opposing the Doctor. He could recall quite vividly, in fact, a time he'd punched a man out in the street for shaming the Mindcrime name despite the fact that he hadn't even really known “what a Mindcrime even was!” It had taken a tragedy to pry his eyes open, a painful reveal of a loved one's real nature to make him see the “revolution” for what it really was, though. If someone was walking down that same tunnel as he had, blinded on all sides by X's close-minded lies and misdirections, he had to help them see the light. It didn't matter of this person was truly intent on killing him. (He wouldn't wish that mental hospital on anyone short of the man who had put him there in the first place.)[break][break]

But his attacker was fine, blow or otherwise, and set about striking out first blindly, then with the precision expected of a trained killer the moment he'd seemed to have regained his senses. Because Nikki, himself, was a trained killer, he managed to swerved out of the way of a few, even parry those he could, but given the sheer number of them, getting by unscathed wasn't an option. His nose screamed at its repeated assault, his eye would probably end up swollen shut come the evening or the following morning, and he didn't even want to imagine the ache he'd be feeling going back to the apartment... empty handed. Shit. As if rubbing salt in the wounds that he'd opened, the stranger had also knocked his second coffee of the day into the street and all over the pavement. (There were more important things to worry about, though, in the face of a man who currently sought him dead.) “He was fixing everything. I saw it, Nikki, because I replaced you,” he was carrying on through his wild barrage, and if the hitman hadn't been so focused on coming out with as little pain on his end as possible, he might have had the moment to react. “The people I killed valued their own money over the humanity of others, over the humanity of people like me. My people, that's who I was fighting for, and Doctor X was carving a place where we didn't have to wonder if we were going to fucking eat that night. I saw it, Nikki. I helped fucking make it. You left everyone to die when you left! Too much of a fucking coward to cut out the cancer killing the country.”[break][break]

“You saw it? You saw it?” he hissed in retaliation, taking whatever blows he needed to spit the words out. “You idiot – you only saw what he wanted you to see! Because you wanna know what I saw? An innocent woman with a bullet in her head, a big ol' report on normal people he told me had to be killed, and the way he laughed in my face when I told him I wasn't some weapon for him to shoot who he wanted, when he wanted, with no reason at all! Don't fucking talk to me about what you saw, you prick!”[break][break]

Just like that, though, he found that he'd lost his high ground, lost his position pinning his opponent to the dirty ground. Shoved off with a force his scrawny frame couldn't handle, the raven-haired man went toppling backward, nearly being knocked his own feet from a mixture of the force that had moved him and his own lack of balance. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that nothing he was saying now was making much difference. To this... guy, it didn't matter if he wasn't the Nikki that had “betrayed” them. (Why would he have left Mindcrime for Mary if he hadn't been told to kill her, anyway?) He deserved blood on his hands, the blood of a person he'd been tricked into hated, and even if it was only that of a look alike, it would sate the blood lust that had been taught to him by the Doctor. How like a member of the Operation: only satisfied when someone, it didn't matter who, was dead. Not him, though, not today, and certainly not at the hands of someone stilling rolling over to show their belly to X. He hadn't wanted to use his gun, but if it was the only way out, he supposed he had not option left. Sunlight glinted off the barrel of his M9, a familiar and comforting weight in the palm of his hands despite all of the nasty things he'd had to do with it, and he lined it up just nicely to put the bowl-cutted man's head right in his sights.[break][break]

“I don't wanna have to use this,” he warned, “but if you don't calm fuck the down, I swear to God I will.”

[attr="class","nikkipostbot"]

[attr="class","nikkipostbotright"]
[music]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1gk2ju5gy1vka6g/Chris%20Cornell-%20Casino%20Royale%20Theme-%20You%20Know%20My%20Name.mp3?dl=0[/music]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot2"]NOTES

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] 1025 WORDS

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] Emilio Ota

[attr="class","nikkipostbot4"]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot5"]

please stop beating on his broken nose, it's very sore. :c

[Emilio Ota]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","manalishi"]

[attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]YOU CAN'T RUN[break] SO YOU MUST HIDE [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]YOU WON'T MAKE IT BACK THIS TIME [attr="class","manalishilpost"] Mary, Mary, at the end of it all it was only about her, wasn't it. Emilio never knew her, never knew of her, but Doctor X said she had to die and her death broke Nikki. He didn't know the details, really. A liability, she'd been labeled, but he hadn't cared to dig any further than that. Emilio suspected she and Nikki had become too close and rather than risk an information leak, Doctor X labeled her for death. Emilio understood. Nikki didn't. He couldn't see the big picture, so hung up on heartbreak. It was his own fault. He did this to her. Maybe he wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, but by getting so close to her, he brought her to her fate. Guilt weighed on him so heavily yet he still couldn't take responsibility. [break][break] "Man, sometimes I think I'm fucking stupid, but you? You take idiocy to an entirely new level. You can't see the bigger picture of anything, now can you?" He took a step to the side, then another, slowly circling him. His body ached, this fight already dragging out longer than he'd intended, too many minutes wasted on screaming at each other. A weight had settled in his body and he could feel each thud of his heart in his chest, his neck, his knuckles that bled and swelled. But while energy was becpming short supply, his chest still vibrated with anger that he thought might tear him apart from the inside. He hated this back and forth argument where neither got nowhere. There wasn't any hope of one convincing the other. Nikki couldn't make Emilio see the truth and Emilio couldn't make Nikki admit he was wrong. Emilio's fanatic loyalty and Nikki's fanatic hatred. An unstoppable force and an unmovable object.[break][break] Oh. And he paused only for a moment before continuing to trace a circle around Nikki. He had a gun. How come he got a gun? They'd taken Emilio's when he'd come to the island and he'd scoured the island for an underground market, but there just wasn't one. No one was making or distributing illegal weapons, so where did Nikki get his? More importantly: Why hadn't he used it yet? Oh, but then again, he hadn't put up any sort of counterattack, had he. While Emilio put the force of blood thirst into the weight of each punch, the only thing Nikki had done was shout and scream and knock him off his feet. Attacks were dealt with by nimbly moving out of their way or parries and once he started trying to lecture him again he didn't even try to defend himself. Why was that? "Oh, look at you, yelling at me, trying to scare me, but still offering to do me such a nice favor." He laughed bitterly, "Can you even do it? Shoot a poor man manipulated and deluded by the evil Doctor X? Would I count as an innocent then, or do you think I'm too far gone? Let's find out." He didn't know. He had absolutely no idea what Nikki would do and it excited him. He couldn't really lose in this situation. Either he died or Nikki died and he was perfectly okay with either of those outcomes. And so he leapt forward, hands balled into fists again, eager to have Nikki's blood on them. [attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"] Emilio? Stop? Naaaah

[attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] Nikki

[attr="class","leapcred"]leap codes

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[Nikki]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","nikkipost"]

[attr="class","nikkiposttop"]

[attr="class","nikkipostimg"]

[attr="class","nikkiposttop2"]

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric"]YOU KNOW MY NAME

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric2"]

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric3"]AND IF YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, YOU NEVER SAW ME CHANGE

[attr="class","nikkipostlyrics4"]ARM YOURSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HERE WILL SAVE YOU

[attr="class","nikkipostmid"]



“Man, sometimes I think I'm fucking stupid, but you? You take idiocy to an entirely new level. You can't see the bigger picture of anything, now can you?”[break][break]

Another knife twisted through his gut – a statement that was certainly not wrong, but one that was used in a context that he'd never wished it to be. Because, at the end of the day, even he had to admit that he was not a smart man. He made silly errors, couldn't think of words, dropped out of high school as much because he hated it as he just couldn't understand the material they were attempting and failing to force feed to him. Basic emotions were lost on him at times. People could play him right into their hands with minimal effort. The moment something was told to him, he'd believe it without proof and without doubt. To have that rubbed in now, however, implied that he was too much of a fool to see things for what they were even when he'd sat by as a man stepped on his face and rubbed the heel of his mud-covered boot in as far as it would go, that he'd somehow doomed all of these people simply because he wasn't smart enough to understand otherwise. But this he knew with certainty was not the case. No, he wasn't a smart man by any means, nor would he likely ever be. But there were some things that he understood quite clearly, and he wouldn't allow this stranger from a strange land to pepper doubts on the one thing he knew, and knew firmly: Mindcrime had been a lie, and he would sooner die than let himself be played for a puppet to it any longer. What “bigger picture”? The idea that sacrifices had to be made, no question? That utopia couldn't be achieved without stepping all over the people it was built to protect in the first place? It was idealistic to think that only wrong doers would ever be punished – but a perfect, corruption-free America was built on idealistic principals in the first place! If they were aiming for perfection from the start, why would they ever aim for anything less?[break][break]

“You can't see a 'bigger picture' if it ain't there in the first place,” Nikki growled, hands balled into fists so tight he could feel his fingernails through the fabric of his gloves, “and I ain't killing innocent people for anyone.”[break][break]

(He understood in that moment, as best as he could 'know' something that may or may not have even been true, the real difference between them and the reason why his words would never get through. It wasn't a difference of Doctors, nor was it a difference of goals. It was because Emilio had never stared down at the blood on his hands, the blood he had put there, and thought to himself that he'd just been made to slaughter the lives of the people he would have given his life for repeatedly to protect. Maybe he'd never known. Maybe he'd never had to. Maybe he'd lost the ability to care. There was no greater loss than that of his own righteousness. Even the death of Sister Mary had not struck him to the same extent. It was not her death that he lost his mind to, but the fact that it had been, in some way shape or form, but in his hands. A messiah strayed from his purpose, fallen from his grace. That was his real shame.)[break][break]

Most people paled in the face of a barrel aimed at their head, terrified by the idea of the death a single bullet from its chamber could bring. Past experience had led Nikki to expect a similar result. Looking at the expression on his enemy's face now, he was horrified to realize that he'd been as wrong as he could have been. Worst of all was that he understood why: He, himself, had been trained to deal with situations where a gun was pressed up flush against his skin, to stare death in its face and spit, but more than that, this person knew him, knew how he thought, recognized that he couldn't shoot a fly through the head even if he wanted to. “Oh, look at you, yelling at me, trying to scare me, but still offering to do me such a nice favor,” the revolutionist taunted with acid spraying from his tongue. “Can you even do it? Shoot a poor man manipulated and deluded by the evil Doctor X? Would I count as an innocent then, or do you think I'm too far gone?” That was – ah. There was no doubt that this person had killed people, many, if he had taken Nikki's place as the revolution's focal hitman, but the dilemma he spoke of so sickly of now was more real and weighty than he must have thought even while bringing it to light. Did those murders he had committed in the Doctor's name really mean that he should have been condemned to death? Remorse didn't seem to factor into the equation remotely, too dedicated to the cause, too blinded by faith in a lie packaged to look like a walking, talking man, but there had been a time, too, when he, himself, would have thrown himself off a cliff if the Doctor had made any mention of it. The guilt for those crimes had not sunk in until it was too late. If Emilio was guilty and to be charged with death, than so, too, was Nikki, wasn't he?[break][break]

(He didn't know, he didn't know, he didn't he didn't he didn't he didn't want to die there was too much left to do but those people he had killed the ones who hadn't deserved it they needed justice and wasn't that on him to bring?)[break][break]

The man charged, and Nikki fired.[break][break]

It was like broken glass in the night, a bomb set off in an isolation chamber, a pin dropped in a silent room. The streets had been quiet, save for the scuffle and the screaming they had been putting up, hardly enough noise to startle off the cluster of birds up ahead or the squirrels clinging to trees nearby. They all fled now, though, terrified by the sudden bang of a bullet shot through the air. For half a second, the hitman himself couldn't believe he'd done it – aimed his weapon at a person who didn't deserve to die, spelled his doom – but the smell of gunpowder tickled at his nose, and he coughed against it as deadly nothingness curled up into the world in its wake. He'd hit his mark. Of course he did. He'd never missed a shot in his life. Not since X had taken him under his black, inky wings. Some sick form of satisfaction bubbled up deep within his being as he watched it happen, watched his opponent crumpled onto the pavement. How could he not with an injury as severe as that? For a moment, he considered firing again for good measure, just to make sure he didn't get back up again, but the deed was done, the mission accomplished. Homura would have a fit trying to cover up one gunshot, much less two, and the inevitable blood splatters, if not the body itself would definitely have to be picked up later. Maybe he'd be able to walk off with a bullet through the gut, but chances were, someone else would have to find him, instead. (Fortunately, they weren't that far away from civilization. The gunshot plus a couple of faked screams on his way home would get someone else to do the job of pickup for him just fine.)[break][break]

“You're not my enemy,” Nikki spoke from his safe distance, certain that he was safe for now. As for when that wound had healed – well, he didn't want to think of how he'd probably only spat gasoline on the fire. “And I shouldn't be yours. We both wanted the same thing. Hell, we still do. But you're not gonna get it if you're stuck working with him.”

[attr="class","nikkipostbot"]

[attr="class","nikkipostbotright"]
[music]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1gk2ju5gy1vka6g/Chris%20Cornell-%20Casino%20Royale%20Theme-%20You%20Know%20My%20Name.mp3?dl=0[/music]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot2"]NOTES

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] 1362 WORDS

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] Emilio Ota

[attr="class","nikkipostbot4"]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot5"]

there was gonna be more, but i gave up, have this trash.

[Emilio Ota]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","manalishi"]

[attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]YOU CAN'T RUN[break] SO YOU MUST HIDE [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]YOU WON'T MAKE IT BACK THIS TIME [attr="class","manalishilpost"] Oh.[break][break] Oh.[break][break] The loud crack of gunfire left a ringing in Emilio Ota's ears, but he didn't notice. And while hands were quick to grope at the searing wound in his gut, Emilio spared it only a glance, keeping his eyes on Nikki for as long as possible. "You actually shot me." A gunshot wouldn't stop him. He could still fight. He wasn't done yet. "But if you— If you—" Oh, his legs crumbled beneath him and he groaned as he hit the ground. Blood soaked his clothes, the hands trying to slow it. His mind ran in circles. You couldn't train to be shot. The body did what it wanted when so much blood was being lost so fast and Emilio was familiar with this. He hated it. The lack of control, his body's unwillingness to listen, he despised it all. He wanted to chase Nikki down even if it killed him. He wanted to beat the life out of him, but his body betrayed him with other plans. He laid on the concrete, angry and writhing and heaving as Nikki retreated. He stopped, though, and Emilio's wrath suddenly sprang anew.[break][break] "You're not my enemy."[break][break] Disgusting. [break] "And I shouldn't be yours." [break][break] He wanted to laugh. [break] "We both want the same thing." [break][break] No, not at all. [break] "Hell, we still do."[break][break] Wrong, wrong, wrong. [break] "But, you're not gonna get it if you're stuck working with him." [break][break] Don't talk about him with that tone! [break] ( Doctor X is the closest thing he has to a father. ) [break][break] "You are my enemy." Screamed words warped in a blood soaked mouth, "I hate you and so you are my enemy. I hate you and I will kill you if you don't kill me first." A final threat, a taunt, the worn blood lust still strong, but Nikki refused the bait and took his retreat. "I'll fucking kill you." Quieter now than before, tired and heavy, mumbled to the silence. He rolled over and heaved a sigh. He had to get up. He had to get home. There he could fix this. He could go after him again.[break][break] Ah, he couldn't see anymore. That's okay, though. He knew this feeling. The weight, the cold, the slowly slipping away. He didn't have the energy to be angry, but he was disappointed to see this old friend again knowing Nikki wasn't. He wondered if this time it will take him.[break][break] ( It doesn't. It never does. )[break][break] Emilio Ota wakes with IVs in his arms and a sore ache through his body. The ceiling is unfamiliar, but the smell of antiseptic burns his nose. He knows where he is. The air is occupied only by the humming of machinery and the sound of a heartbeat made digital. He stares a moment out the window. The silhouettes of bushes decorate the bottom of the window. The ground floor, then. How foolish, how stupid, they should've put him on the tenth. (It wouldn't have stopped him, though.) He pulls out the IVs, the wires and the machinery lets out a loud flat drone. Quickly now— Ah, no, that hurt. Legs crumple as he attempts to throw himself out of the bed, but after desperate gasps and near screams, he draggs himself back up. He has to get out. He can't stay here. Won't stay here just waiting for the police to come question him. The window wis easy to open, even with the stitches in his gut and the searing pain that threatens to steal his breath. Getting through the bushes is more difficult, but he manages. He takes a breath once outside, a moment to cope with the pain. The darkness is a blessing because it gives him a precious advantage to his escape. So he hides and then moves and hides again. Slowly, painfully, he makes his escape.[break][break] He hates the light of the halls. Bright fluorescent lights that made his eyes ache the moment he entered. He hated how visible he was and so quickly he knocked on the door of the apartment. Answer, answer. Please— "Lorelei." He nearly gasps her name as she opens the door. He's leaning against the door frame, blood soaking through the hospital shirt. "Let me in, do me this one favor and I'll do whatever you want." And she complies. The opened wound is closed again and cleaned and he's given clothes to wear that don't feel like paper against his skin. He is grateful.[break][break] Lorelei goes back to sleep. He lays down and he listens. Is there anyone out there in the hall? Anyone outside the window? There is nothing, though. No footsteps, no quiet clicking of equipment. He tells himself that that makes sense. This isn't home. He'd run on impulse, on instinct. Home, he had to run. If he was caught, they would kill him. Traitor. Terrorist. How would they label him? Here it is different, he knows that, but he isn't going to risk it. In the calm, the adrenaline eases away and tears bloom in his eyes. He doesn't have the energy to cry, but still they form and so they silently trace paths down his cheeks. He hates this. He wants to go home, but he can't, and so he wants to die, but he can't do that either. Not without Nikki. He won't go alone. He'll kill him before all else. [attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"] loud yelling

[attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] Nikki

[attr="class","leapcred"]leap codes

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[Nikki]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","nikkipost"]

[attr="class","nikkiposttop"]

[attr="class","nikkipostimg"]

[attr="class","nikkiposttop2"]

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric"]YOU KNOW MY NAME

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric2"]

[attr="class","nikkipostlyric3"]AND IF YOU THINK YOU'VE WON, YOU NEVER SAW ME CHANGE

[attr="class","nikkipostlyrics4"]ARM YOURSELF, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE HERE WILL SAVE YOU

[attr="class","nikkipostmid"]



He wanted to stay, truly. He wanted to talk until his lips cracked, his tongue numbed, blood leaked out of a throat screamed raw, whatever it took to hammer in some level of acceptance in the mind of his misguided man. He didn't even know his name. But he'd fired when he'd been told he couldn't; he'd betrayed expectations, and while it had likely saved his life, it had also stripped him of his chance at communicating, assuming he'd even had it to begin with. If he wasn't going to listen to him before, than he certainly wasn't after having a bullet shot clear through his chest, and there wasn't enough time to put on a show and give the “inspiration speech” that was begging to be screamed loud from the back of his mind now that he'd pulled the trigger. Loud noises brought along crowds: Moths to flames, fools to a gunshot. Someone would come retrieve the not-quite-corpse, and Nikki would have to be long gone by then, least he be detained for the crime and be “eradicated” from the Omega Five unit. A more frightening thought, truly, than dying to a deranged revolutionist, although one marginally less sad. (Was there something he could have done differently? Anyway he could have saved this lost soul?)[break][break]

So Nikki ran. A culprit from his crime. A murderer from his victim. A savior preaching to a deaf choir of one.[break][break]

Words flooded the air as he went, sneakers hard on pavement, blood still dribbling dark down his nose: “You are my enemy. I hate you, and so you are my enemy. I hate you, and I will kill you if you don't kill me first.” How hurtful. There was no reason for them to fight. Their enemy was the state – it always had been, it always would be – and the commonplace people who used each other like stepping stones. What would it take to make him realize that he was only playing into the enemy's hands? Only doing just what the real enemy wanted him to? Kill Nikki wouldn't accomplish anything; it could not right past wrongs, and it could not bring lost lives back from the grave. (If it could have, he would have gladly laid himself down beneath a sea of water and let it take him to his final resting place.) Trying to kill him was a waste of energy and the loss of a fighter against the world's hidden evil. But it was useless to say. His words couldn't reach his ears any longer. Maybe in some alternate past, they had, back when they'd both been slaves to the underworld, running themselves raw on the Doctor's cleverly disguised treadmill, but Nikkis never change, even in the multi-verse. Really, it should have come to his with no surprise.[break][break]

(In the meanwhile, he could hear the lecture now. Would the council call him, he wondered, or wait for him to show up of his own accord? Either way, there she would stand, white-eyed, blue-eyed, a whole five foot, four inches of raw smugness. She'd stare him down unnervingly with that ever-knowing smile of her's for too long before finally asking if he needed a resupply of bullets – never mind the fact that he already had more hidden away in his apartment than he'd ever know what to do with. He knew it. She most certainly did, too. “He tried to kill me,” the hitman would say to her, but he wouldn't be able to make eye contact. There had always been something off about this woman. He wondered, should he put the barrel of his gun against her head, instead, if it would phase her in the slightest. Something told him it wouldn't.[break][break]

(“You're not the sort to miss.”[break][break]

(“No.” How was he going to explain his... conundrum to her, he fretted? To say that he knew his attacker would be a lie. Yes, yes, he could list off appearances, and it was a safe assumption to say that the man hated him and wanted him dead, likely as a result of still being a loyal member of a 'revolution' that no longer existed, but there'd never been anyone like him in Nikki's own world. No one who posed that much of a thread, anyway. He got the feeling that if he told her the truth – that he sympathized with this person, bizarrely enough, and didn't think he had it in him to shoot him for falling victim to the same trap that he had managed to break himself out of... almost – that she would be satisfied with it. Not at all. No, he'd have to tell her something else. Misdirect, spit out a half lie. The more he thought of it himself, the more he wanted to know himself: If his assailant was so dedicated to the Doctor and avenging him, was there some chance of the Doctor himself being present on the island? And surely, if he was, wouldn't he be the bigger threat to the island's safety? He hadn't killed as many people himself, surely, but it wasn't his weapons that made him dangerous. It had always been and always would be his tongue, sharpened more than any blade to ever exist on the planet. If he was here, Nikki would see him dead. If the man could lead him there, then he was better left alive than in a shallow grave. “But I was thinking...”)[break][break]

He never did get Homura a coffee.

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[music]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1gk2ju5gy1vka6g/Chris%20Cornell-%20Casino%20Royale%20Theme-%20You%20Know%20My%20Name.mp3?dl=0[/music]

[attr="class","nikkipostbot2"]NOTES

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] 922 WORDS

[attr="class","nikkipostbot3"] Emilio Ota

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boop, boop, make way for the worst post ever written. ANYWAY, WE'RE DONE, CLOSE THIS SUCKER UP.