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X-treme Wrestling Federation »  RP Archive » Archives » "Bad Medicine" RP Board (May 23, 2015)
Chasing Ghosts - Part II: RP 2
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Sebastian Duke Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP


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#1
05-18-2015, 12:43 PM

Friday, May 15, 2015 | 9:41 PM Local Time | The Chancellery | Berlin, Germany

The mood in the Chancellor's office is that of wonder and despair. Amid the silence, hangs an air of wondering about Jacob and his journal. The man has been dead for a month and a half, yet he still lives. He still serves his King even from the grave. The three men in this room, the King himself, Matthew as well as the German Chancellor reflect to themselves just what exactly Jacob meant to the Illuminatus and in fact, what he still means to them.

Jacob was a man that got things done. He had no fear of anyone. Not even Sebastian Duke. He had no fear of anything that may very well have harmed him. He took his solemn vows seriously. If he were to die in the line of his duties, and he ultimately did, he knew it was his job to do it. After all, his biggest task as the right hand of the Illuminatus leader, was to protect the secrets of the Brotherhood and to protect the leaders themselves. It was that blood oath he took when he was just fourteen years of age that made him tick. He'd do whatever was necessary in order to accomplish whatever his King set out to do.

Whether it was following a mark. Whether it was finding priests accused of child abuse. Whether it involved murder or the cover up of an Illuminatus crime committed out of necessity. Jacob Anderson did it. No matter the ups and downs of their personal relationship, it is without question, that Jacob was the most faithful servant that the Illuminatus has ever had and what's more, may ever have in the future. When he passed away, he no doubt left behind some very large shoes that are perhaps impossible to fill. Not by Matthew. Maybe not even Sebastian's own half-brother, Theo Pryce.

”What is it?” asks the German Chancellor, breaking the deafening silence.

”What is what?” replies the King, answering a question with a question.

”You've been staring at that liquor bottle for fifteen minutes. Something's on your mind,” Asmodeus explains. ”So, what is it?”

Sebastian Duke stands up and walks toward the bar, bouncing the Devil's Cut Bourbon bottle in his hand. He answers after his sets the bottle back on the bar. ”Jake is what's on my mind. He's been dead for six weeks and even now, he's still working for us. Still protecting us,” he concludes.

”I don't think we've ever had anyone so important to the cause than him, my King. His death only strengthened our cause. Our men will fight braver and stronger now, because they know that they're fighting for him. They know they're fighting to avenge his murder,” Matthew interjects.

”That's an accurate assessment, I do believe Matthew,” Asmodeus responds.

”One thing is for certain. We have to follow up on this lead he was working on,” the King states.

”And just how would we do that?”

”Not we. Me,” the King answers. ”I'll have to take a trip to the scene of the crime.”

”Forgive me son, but you are six foot eight and I do believe the Italians and those within the walls of Vatican City know exactly who you are and what you look like. I don't think you'll blend in very well,” the Chancellor jokes.

”Who said anything about Italy? Or for that matter Vatican City?” Sebastian inquires, causing deeper thought to creep into the minds of his father and Matthew alike.

”Please. Explain what you mean,” requests the German Chancellor.

The King walks back across the room and takes his seat once more. ”People knew Jacob as a master of disguise. A man that could get in and out of anywhere without ever being seen. But they forget one thing. One major thing. One simple fact that everyone overlooks.

“That fact, is that everything Jacob learned about being unseen is everything I taught him. He learned from me and he learned well. He may go down in our history as the best agent we have ever had. I will honor him by going to the scene of the crime. I will take what I taught him, and I will use it well.

“I will find out just what the Vatican is hiding,” he finally concludes.

”That's quite a speech, but I have to respectfully oppose your wishes,” Asmodeus begins. ”It's not wise for you to be out there in the open in enemy territory gallivanting around. You are a rather large target. One that is not so easy to miss,.”

”Forgive me father, but I don't much care what you think. I'm doing this with or without your blessing. So, you may as well get on board with it,” replies the King.

”Very well,” respond the defeated Chancellor. ”Matthew, give your King whatever he needs.”

”As you wish Father,” Matthew replies, then turns his attention to his King. ”What is it you need to get started sir?”

”Those satellite images Jake was looking at, get all of them uploaded,” the King commands. ”And get the pilot out of bed. Have him get the jet fueled up and ready to go.”

”The flight plan, my King. Where should I tell him we're heading to?” Matthew asks.

”Where else would we go, Matthew?” he asks rhetorically. ”Paris.”


...Two Hours Later...


The short hop over to Paris was fairly uneventful. A simple flight with a difficult task on the agenda. The Illuminatus King stands on the sidewalk staring up, awestruck at the amazing structure in front of him.


[Image: Paris-Notre-Dame-Cathedral-Night.jpg]



Completed in the year 1345, the Notre Dame Cathedral stands as the most iconic symbol of the Catholic religion. Not counting Vatican City and St. Peter's Basilica of course. It looms large and imposing in front of him. Being illuminated within the darkness, it's almost symbolic in nature. The light of God, or false Gods if one is talking to an Illuminatus man, cutting through the dark and evil of everyday life. If one finds oneself within the Catholic Church, Sebastian Duke, Asmodeus, Thaddeus, the whole lot of the Illuminatus is the most despicable kind of evil.

To the King of Darkness, it is his belief as well as the belief of his followers that it is in fact the Illuminatus that is the light, or the good of humanity. While the Church is the evil and dark forces. It's all in how one perceives either entity. If one is a Christian man, then one may believe that the Illuminatus is an evil entity. If one is a man of science, one may believe that whatever the Illuminatus is doing to the Catholic Church just means that the Church is finally getting their just desserts.

All in all, perception is reality. And history is always written by the victor. The King and his followers believe that truth and justice will eventually prevail. And on that day, professors and scientists the world over will disperse and begin the arduous task of rewriting history.

As it stands right now, all of the killings and torture and other atrocities committed by the Illuminatus against the Church in the name of war are very much considered dastardly acts of evil. He may come off as cold and callous. Unkind. Uncaring. There are a million adjectives that one can use to describe him. The reality of it all is, he has never committed any act against the Church that he didn't have remorse for.

He believes he knows the truth. The truth of Jesus Christ. The truth of St. Peter. The truth of the Whore of Babylon, Mary Magdalene. He believes he knows the truth about the keystone upon which the Catholic Church and the throne of lies, as he calls it, was founded upon. In the Kings mind, the truth shall set you free.

The King stops staring at the monstrous Church and saunters on down the street, leaving the bridge to Notre Dame behind. As he walks the bells high within the towers of the ancient cathedral begin to toll. The King looks back toward the church and glances at his watch. Midnight. With the bells tolling, the King thinks of it as a symbolic moment. In a life shrouded my symbolism, its not that surprising. This is the moment where the war against the Church really takes off. He whips out his cell phone and starts to dial. After a few rings, his intended call recipient answers. ”Thaddeus, it's me,” he states to his son. ”It's just the bells at Notre Dame. Anyway, I need you to listen carefully,” he says with conviction. ”Send in the god damned troops.”

He listens to the silence on the other end and can't quite picture Thaddeus' reaction. Thaddeus is a warrior. He loves battle. He loves the art of the whole damn thing. He's also half asleep and one would bet that he's surely awake now.

”You there?” asks the King toward his young Prince. ”Good. I thought maybe I lost you. Launch the invasion immediately.” After a few seconds, the King responds to an unknown question posed by his son. ”Not yet. Hellfire can wait for now. Let's see how the air campaign and the ground invasion work out first. And don't forget to tell your grandfather this time. He is the Chancellor of the nation and it made him look bad last time.

“Good night, son. I'll see you when I get back.”

The King ends the call and begins to place his phone in his pocket and start to think about just how the hell he might gain access to Notre Dame. It's at this moment that a single sign over a rot iron gate catches his eye and stops him dead in his tracks. It's an entrance to the Catacombs, an underground network of passage ways that twists and turns its way beneath Paris.

Once again he dials up a caller on his phone. A single ring and Matthew answers, ”yes, my King?”

”Matt, these catacomb beneath the city. Do any of the passages lead to Notre Dame?” he questions, then waits.

After a few agonizing seconds, Matthew finally responds, ”not according to my map. Nothing official at least.”

”Anything unofficial?” the King asks.

”Forgive me, but if its unofficial, why would it be on a map?” Matthew offers, with restraint.

”Good point. I'll have to see for myself,” concludes the Illuminatus King as he promptly ends the call and places the phone in his pocket.

Looking at the iron gate, it occurs to him that he really has no way in. Extending his sleeved dagger, he begins to try and pick the pad lock on the chained entry way.

”Arretez!” shouts a voice emanating from behind him, several feet away.

The King stops what he's doing. It's not really working anyway. The man, looking to be a street patrol officer runs toward the Illuminatus King with his pistol drawn.

Being that Sebastian Duke doesn't look to be a French citizen, and Paris being the tourist trap that it has been for centuries, the patrolman asks the obvious question. ”Parlez-vous Francois?” he asks.

The Illuminatus head honcho merely shakes his head.

”Anglais?” offers the patrolman.

”Yes,” he replies simply.

”Mister, the catacombs close at a quarter before seven. You may come back in the daylight hours when tourist such as yourself are welcome,” he informs.

”No” Sebastian replies sharply. ”I'm going in now, and you're going to help me do it.”


To Be Continued...



[Image: abxYXtY.jpg]
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