Here we are. Two hundred pages in. Sorry for the wait... let's
do this.
-x-
"It feels like some new, supernatural force is revealed every day." Valentine mused as we headed towards the northern wing of the capitol. "Do you know how many Akuma this Earl has?"
Reluctantly, I shook my head. "All I know is that he has the majority of Japan under his control. Where the rest of his Akuma are, how many of them he has, how strong they are as a whole, I couldn't tell you." I gave a helpless shrug. "That's what we've got to deal with."
Past the new reasons for what I was doing, the original reason was still there. As long as the Earl was alive, nobody was safe. The best way to fight him and the first step to beating him was to shut down his operations from a home base that could be fortified… and eventually, that became a plan that involved just converting his forces into Knights one sizable patch of land at a time.
The Pineapple Confederation was not a fully happy accident. There was luck, there were factors I wasn't prepared for, and it all just culminated into one big
clusterfuck. Now, I was in it. There was no getting out. And I needed to ride this horse to the finish line, or so the saying went.
"I've noticed those Knights of yours," Valentine said to me. "You're sure they're safe?" I almost looked at the man like he was foolish until I realized – no, not
everyone knows that the Knights aren't out to get anyone. Telling Valentine they were made from Akuma probably only served to make him
warier.
Each motion of my legs slightly jostled my sheathed Zanpakuto at either hip. Their tassels gently swayed with every footfall. They felt lighter, I realized. Were they getting smaller because I didn't have immediate access to not-Anubis and Fawk-man? I couldn't be sure, but it went against what I knew about Zanpakuto from Bleach.
My mind returned to the conversation at hand. "Nah," I dismissed his idea, literally waving it off. "Not to sound manipulative or anything, but… there's no way they'd screw up a second chance like what I gave them. Not after some of the horrible things they did as Akuma. They're good people, Mister President." I offered what I hoped was a winning smile from a half-shaven face. "They wouldn't kill anyone unless their lives depended on it."
"Hmm, that sounds about right." He nodded, "One of the leaders of my Rainsing Corps confirmed–"
"Excuse me, your
what corps?"
"Rainsing," the man looked at me. "The Pinkertons are a private police force, and even if they're on my payroll it looks terrible for the president to be protected by and extend his will through what amounts to mercenaries." What a pleasant way to say he planned to dissolve the organization. I could already imagine the backlash.
But they'd need jobs. "So you plan to hire them on as a military police force."
"Exactly," Valentine nodded, "Disband the unofficial, rebrand it, and make it a branch of the United States government… If the Pinkertons are going to be dissolved
peacefully, I don't want them to go homeless and hungry. That never ends well."
I nodded along, mirroring his pleasantness. Beneath that, I couldn't help but notice that his 'Rainsing Corps' would suddenly be in a
very similar position to my Knights. Either he was ripping me off, or he was planning a counter to me in the event things went sour.
My mouth uncontrollably twisted its way into a small smile. Whether it was paranoia or a legitimate concern, I couldn't say. Either way, it seemed we were entering an age of superhuman police forces – a subtle arms race between the Knights and what would become of the Pinkertons… assuming they didn't just flee the country and set up shop in Europe like they did in my timeline.
I felt my uncovered eye drift up to see the sun. The sky was blue, the clouds were few and white, birds were singing, people were going about their everyday lives; it was a great day to sit in a room with a bunch of stuffy men and talk about cutting a first world nation in half.
An ear twitched – the sound of men debating, shouting and declaring one detail after another in front of crowds of people of varying sizes. Men in police uniforms decorated either side of the street we walked to prevent anyone from coming close to us, even as men in suits on stages from all across the nation tried to keep attention on them.
They had something to say before they went in,
they were important at the moment.
"The moment I get the chance," I grumbled to Valentine, "I'm evening the playing field with this 'professional politician' bullshit." My frown was stern and wide. Briefly, my gaze flickered to Valentine as he stepped elegantly. I'd been getting taller, slowly building muscle as my body acclimated to being a chimera while my muscles constantly healed passively. Though the growth had slowed down with the Skulls' seal, it still felt noticeable.
But being next to a man who still managed to be
just an inch taller than me was enough to grind my gears. In an abstract kind of way, it made me think of Ed without melancholy – not that I was going to thank the president for making me slightly happy by mildly pissing me off…
These mood swings, man. How do they work?
"I find it charming," he smiled in return. "Watching these men pour their hearts and souls out in front of each other in a war of words, there's poetry in that."
"Half my name is poetry, and I
still hate it." I frowned.
Even with the redirection of rage following my alliance with the Black Order, it amazed me how
quickly similar families, individuals, and companies just filled in the power vacuum. While effective; dealing with them directly only managed to temporarily stopgap a symptom in a larger, more significant problem no matter if I disagreed with the method behind it. In other words, I didn't
want what happened to happen to them, but if even the
good consequences of that terrible series of events could so easily be turned around then I had my work cut out for me.
My eye narrowed as I caught a word or two from the people on the podiums. "What're they even talking about, anyway?" I couldn't help but curiously ask aloud.
Valentine shrugged, still walking flawlessly. We must have made a hell of a pair walking side by side down the cobbled road to the capitol. "Us," The response was as simple as it was jarring, coming from a man who often seemed so much more verbose.
-x-
"While it
is dreadful an assassination attempt happened, it seems that it has greased the wheels of diplomacy!" a voice called out to another, "Grand King Poe and President Valentine seem to have been quite successful at hashing out a treaty! It appears we won't have to be dealing with a war again anytime soon… praise to the Lord!"
So we had a religious nut, I thought to myself. "Motherfucker." And who the hell was this? "That bitch ass assassin did jack all!
Great. Getting a war going at this point is gonna be a bitch and a half! And we're still gonna be stuck with those damn northern Yanks! So much for the
proud Confederacy." He ended it with a quiet scoff.
It was hard to keep walking without turning and looking at the man. I knew that not every opinion would be a very pleasant one that I'd happen to agree with… I just wasn't expecting this level of open enmity. Didn't Valentine have a ninety percent approval rate before he died in Steel Ball Run?
Alternate Universes, I reminded myself, were a 'bitch and a half'. Even as the thought occurred, someone else nudged the man from the side. "Bah!" he said, "In my day, no gosh-darned assassins woulda snuck up like some cowardly… cowardly assassin! They woulda come right on up and faced ya like a man!" he shouted to me in support, "Good on ya for stoppin' that pathetic excuse for a hitman!"
"Bah. Fuck Poe." What was
with people saying 'bah'? I half-expected a sheep or something to show up. "Sure, he saved our President, but that could be faked – done on
purpose. He could've just hired some random desperate guy to kill the president! Then he would play hero, and bam! He saved our president." That seemed unnecessarily paranoid. If I planned on it, wouldn't I have had a Knight go for it? "And what then would he do after this? Like I said, we don't need this fucker's help. Let me repeat this again:
We don't need this fucker's help. We can deal with these Akumas by our own. Let's just build a very,
very huge bomb, and explode them up!" I wanted to think this guy was kidding, but it felt impossible.
Somehow, I just knew that there was a multiversal constant when it came to people who thought nuking something was the best and/or only solution. Yet it seemed that for every person that spoke against me, there was at least one other person who either didn't care or spoke in support. So… that was a good thing, right?
Right?!
"I like this Poe!" a good thing. "He seems to be one for theatrics." Admittedly, this was true. "And not only that… he brings
gold! Gold that we can use to build an empire – ah, I mean,
a prosperous America!" I felt my eyes narrow. Even after the redirection of hate and force, there was still a sizable population that cried out for wealth.
"GOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!" A man cried out as he lunged after fallen change in the street.
"Bring in the gold. I'll deal with those."
"Hoooodoor? Hodor."
…Yeah, I wasn't so confident anymore. "Who cares about that pineapple fetishist? We're the Tunnel Snakes! That's us! And we rule!" Oh…
these guys. I think I'd heard a thing or two about them before. Something about hanging a particularly wealthy man upside down and beating him to death…? Oh god please no; don't tell me we were on the verge of a riot.
How the hell did they even
have representation here? And while I was on the topic of asking questions about impossible people who shouldn't be here, why was there a man who looked a lot like my dad shouting in my general direction?
"ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE ONE TO SAVE THE PRESIDENT FROM THAT ASSASSIN, NOT YOU! I SHALL HAVE MY DUE, FAAAAAKKKKKKKKEEEEERRRRR!"
…Well alright then.
That was the general gist of it – various people shouting various things at me or about me or about what just happened. Most were, without question, politicians trying to convey their agenda to their supporters. But others were just strange. There was, for example, a goat with an interpreter… I guess the sheep was sick today.
Yeah, that joke was terrible even by
my standards.
Sorry.
"Ah, okay…" I heard the man say, "I think… while this, uhh, 'Grand King' seems to be… expanding his powerbase quite quickly, he
did risk his life to stop that assassination and his policies, overall, don't appear to be
bad. So, wait and see?" That was a somehow tentative vote of semi-confidence from an animal and his owner.
God this world was weird.
I heard a voice speak in seriousness towards the press as he headed towards the same building as us. "He seems like a good guy," he spoke casually, "Not trustful. I won't trust a man I've never been face to face with. I'll reserve my judgment for now."
"Man, he seems like a pretty chill dude, y'know?" an even
more casual looking man said with a smile. He was eating a bagel and wearing a tropical shirt, standing only a few feet behind the untrusting man. "I mean, he saved the president and all that stuff. The president's cool, so I would think this Poe dude is cool as well! I think I'll send him a nice rug when I can for a thank you."
"I am sure that we can trust this 'Poe' fellow! He saved our president. And when can we trust him, if not right now?" A younger man asked someone else just outside the building. A debate was brewing. "I do not know what his motives are, as of yet, but I'm sure the two of us can be friends! I trust myself as a good judge for character."
Hesitantly, his opponent in the debate shook his head, "This… this is hard to say. I would like to know what his political stance is, first. But at least… as far as I can see… Poe could help us for the betterment of Humanity."
"…Who?" asked someone a short distance from the podium, "Sorry, I just spent the last weekend cruising in the sea and killing sissy pirates. Oh, and this guy saved the president? Pfft," he laughed, "I could do better! And with
style."
"If rumors are to be trusted," the man continued, "He is no human, nor are the Knights. But I like to believe that inside, he is as human as he was when born! I hope. For the moment, perhaps we
should trust Poe to make a good judgment… lest I be forced to use my hand." He paused, "And I will not play nice."
An ominous threat from someone hopeful, but nothing to be worried about… he had the better interests of people in mind. Even
if he could attack me, I had nothing to fear. No, I was worried by the other person. I was worried about the shadowy figure being passed money from another person in a fine suit with a distinct accent.
"It is unfortunate that the assassination was not successful," I heard him say. "The chaos that would have resulted from the removal of the President would have aided in the conquest of America." My face, crinkling into a happy smile, sharpened and froze. What. "This 'Poe' however… I hear rumors that he is actually a beast in the form of a man. Perhaps he and his people will not have to be crushed under the might of Australia?"
What?! "In any case, I shall see if the Twelfth Funnelweb Taskforce can accomplish what this other assassin failed to do."
My head practically creaked as I turned to speak to Valentine. "Uh… should I be worried?" I asked him, "Because I heard something concerning and–"
The president just smiled and gestured in the general direction I heard the speaker. Two men in uniforms caught between something fit for baseball and torture stood behind that man and the shadowy figure. "Rainsing Corps." He said. In many ways, that's all that
needed to be said as the man and his accomplice were promptly spirited away with none of the crowd being the wiser.
Was that one of their purposes? Finding and dealing with potential traitors? I somehow pitied those men now that they'd been discovered. "Praise be to the Grand King!" it sounded ominous, somehow. "Praise be to Poe our savior!" I wasn't sure I wanted this right now. "Praise be to the Interdimensional Flaming Skeleton Man!" I went cross-eyed. "His selfless protection of the president will truly bring peace to this land!"
Was… was that man there when I used the Rider? Was he around for that? "Ah. Oh dear, oh dear. I'm afraid this is a bit outside my area of expertise. I suppose it's a good thing that the assassin was stopped, though!" finally, someone who was addressing a crowd. "After all, no true PROGRESS can be made while our leaders fear for their lives! Which of course, they do not, because they can defend themselves…" he coughed awkwardly. His supporters shuffled in their feet, unsure of what to do.
"Hmmm," a voice intoned from the uncertain crowd, "On the one hand, no war means no surplus of supplies for experimentation. On the other hand, I… and others like me…" there were nods throughout the crowd, "Are less likely to get their labs blown up in the crossfire. Eh. I wonder if I can get my hands on an Akuma or Knight at some point… I'm sure examining one of them could give interesting results!"
"I
would be interested in those Knights! And Akuma! And… other things… But mainly Akuma and Knights! Perhaps if there was time on the side…"
"Can we rig them to explode?" another voice asked, "Maybe as suicide bombers? If not, fuck Poe. He's a pussy!"
My shoulders twitched as I started walking towards the voice. No, I thought.
None of that shit. Valentine's hand stopped me. "Let it play out, Poe."
I looked at him, "Coming from the man who just detained a foreign agent on word of mouth, that's–"
"There's a time and place for action. That was one, this isn't." His glare turned into a sympathetic look, "You… are not someone who was ever meant to be a leader, are you?"
"…" I tried to meet his gaze, but failed. "I guess not."
"Then learn. You have people on your side who know what they're doing. Listen to them, learn from them, and even
if you go wrong you'll be better off than many others in your position." His smile was radiant as he turned away from me and waved to cheering people.
"And what about the consequences of going wrong at all?"
"So long as the people love you, then are you
really and
truly wrong?" he asked in turn. "They are ultimately all that decides whether you stay in power or not… they are the ones you aim to help. So if they are happy with you, how could
you be wrong? Some will no doubt speak against you as they have spoken against me, and that is life." He shrugged, "You can't win everyone. You can only try your hardest and hope your labors bear fruit."
"…Have I been successful?"
"Clearly, some think so."
And I was treated to the sight of a brief brawl that came to an abrupt end as a man with a charismatic grin stood victorious. He belted his speech to all who would listen, proud of his every word. "Let it be known…" he said, "That I, LORD WILHELM HAMFIST,
spit at the mention of the dastardly foe who dared attempt to assassinate this brave newcomer! He who championed a return to days of knightly yore – this man among men who when confronted with the manifold issues of our great yet troubled land responded by spreading castles and splendor throughout!
"THIS IS A MAN TO BE ADMIRED!
"A MAN TO BE EMULATED!
"A MAN TO BE CELEBRATED THROUGH GENEROUS APPLICATION OF JOUSTING TOURNAMENTS!"
"…but," I said to Valentine, "There is a problem with that." I looked at this proud man in pain even as he continued.
"Despite that
VICIOUS COWARD'S attempt on his life, this gallant hero – this
champion – has not
PERMITTED himself to be slowed! Even now, he works to come to terms with the great President Valentine! This is the
dedication that our nation has been
lacking! The sheer, undeniable
WILLPOWER to
DRAG ourselves out of these troubled times!
THIS is the
Grand King at his
FINEST! And should any further
ruffians seek to challenge him, I shalt see them vanquished through
liberal application of fisticuffs!
"LORD WILHELM HAMFIST, HO!" The man struck a pose, one knee astride the table in front of him as he stared dramatically into the distance at nothing in particular. A falcon had perched itself upon the crook of his arm.
"Oh?" he asked, "And what problem is there? If they love you, what could have gone wrong?"
I waited. And then I heard my counterargument speak. "His majesty Grand King Poe is a good man, I say!" the man cried, "He is American as American Pie! Of course, how could I, Diego Brando, besmirch the name of the man who save our president? If it weren't for that gentleman, President Funny Valentine would have lost his life to some filthy bandit!"
"What if," I said to Valentine, "They agree with me because it benefits them – the few? What if they agree with me because they fear me? What if they agree with me
just because it's popular to?" I shook my head, "If I'm going to be a good leader, I can't just be
popular. I need to be smart."
Valentine only nodded, "Then why worry at all?" he chuckled, "You're already further along than I was when I first started. You'll be fine, Poe."
We stopped outside the building. One last man stood there, surrounded by followers. The sound of clicking gears and smell of toxic fuel was potent to me. There, on the last podium, a mild mannered man spoke to followers who listened to him with absolute, single-mindedness.
"Ah, jeez," the final man chuckled, "If I'm gonna be honest, I think I'm gonna say that I'm a bit scared of him!" I didn't like his smile. "He could fight with the Earl one-on-one; he could turn an army of Akuma into
his own version of Akuma; he could transform into something inhuman and uses outlandish weapons beyond our comprehension…" he brought up a finger and scratched his cheek. He stank of rot. "He turned a little hamlet into a giant fortress in a short time…
"If he wanted to, I'm sure he could demolish Washington without much of an effort!" people were silent as they listened to him. Not all of them, I noticed, were technically human. "So yeah, I'm a bit scared. I'm sure in another life, we could be good friends…
great friends…! But, as it is, I'm waiting for the Earl's command." I felt cold suddenly. "If I'm lucky, I'd be the same Akuma by the end of the day… so wish me luck, folks!" Mindlessly, parts of the crowd began clapping.
He was looking at me. I could see the pentagram on his forehead, barely covered by a Stetson hat. Around him, I saw Akuma… so many of them… With where they were, it would be impossible to make Knights from these people and help them, just as it would be impossible to have the Exorcists deal with them right now.
The majority of the population didn't understand what it meant to be an Akuma, what it constituted, and at this early stage of
course someone coming out as one would be popular. The realization and understanding did no favors for my temper or my fear.
We were in a new age of acceptance… on the surface. But being an Akuma wasn't like being of a different race. It was being a
killing machine and a servant of a monster that wanted to commit species-wide murder. These people, most of them, neither knew nor understood this. And now they were here in a large, crowded place.
"…Let's just get this over with." I said to him, "The sooner we finish, the sooner I can get to work."
-x-
"So you're not dead yet?" someone asked me as I entered the building, "Good. Try to keep it that way."
I gave the man a steady glare, "Weren't you one of the people who just wanted money?"
He mumbled something incoherent, turned his back, and quickly walked away – the bastard.
The room was filled to the brim and, judging from the stench of sweat, unbelievably hot. Even with the seal on my soul up and active, some of my powers remained unhindered – well, not
my powers, but… in spite of the heat, the Rider managed to passively keep me safe from the discomfort.
It was good to know that his power to prevent me from being burned alive extended to uncomfortable room temperatures. Huzzah for mundane applications, I suppose.
Valentine surveyed the hot, filled room and gave a firm nod as though satisfied. The man, not even sweating, cleared his throat and silenced the room – such was his presence, that there wasn't even a whisper. He demanded their attention, and so he grasped and commanded it.
From behind him, I was hardly as enthused. My mind was on too many things to focus on the present at hand. My ears were ringing with the sudden absence of noise in favor of finding other, slighter sounds. I could hear the creaking of the wood beneath the hundreds of feet in the room.
A rudimentary radio system was installed in Valentine's podium – just another of the many signs that this world's technology had improved further than mine in the same time. I half-expected a Tesla coil to unfold from the ceiling and start firing disco lights… and paused the moment the thought occurred. This
was a JoJo world. I wouldn't put it past
someone to try it.
This version of the room was different from what I'd gotten used to seeing on TV back home. It was bigger, with more balconies and far greater height to it. It felt less like I was sitting behind a man giving an important political speech and more like I was halfway backstage in some mighty opera house.
Clearly, infrastructure in the North had been taken in a grander direction in this world. If I had to guess why, it would be… my ear twitched. That was odd. I definitely heard a human heartbeat, but its position was moving. I didn't hear the shifting of joints, either.
As I focused more on that heart, I could hear slight breathing. This was focusing all my incredible sense of hearing on a singular individual who, somehow, was getting closer. But that didn't make sense because the sound was coming from underneath the floor. There was no basement; there was no tell-tale sound of hollow steps aboveground.
Briefly, I checked the floor and saw nothing. No matter how close those free-floating and functioning organs came, I couldn't see them. They were solidly below the floor. My hair stood on end as it approached. Even with the seal of Skulls held upon my soul, I felt the animalistic instincts of my chimera physiology start acting up. My legs trembled, shaking on the floor in anticipation.
My head began to follow the incoming shapes. Vibrations aboveground went deep enough that I could almost make out the shape of a head and shoulders. But they were shifting and surrounded in brick and soil. The phantom figure reached the presidential podium… and didn't stop walking.
Actually, it wasn't walking at all. It was floating beneath the floor, past the president and past me until it was behind us both. Then I couldn't
see the head and shoulders anymore. It was too far away from the vibrations, its figure was too obscured by building material for me to
hear its form through echolocation properly.
I knew it was there, but it just wasn't – my eyes went wide as hands slowly phased through the presidential seal. It was just enough to be seen if Valentine turned his head around… between the two of us, though, it was impossible for those clasped grey fingers to be seen by the people in the room.
The hands opened and a small, black butterfly bearing skull iconography and pentagrams steadily drifted free towards Valentine. I was ready to act at a moment's notice, prepared to strike the encroaching thing down. But I stopped when I caught a flicker of movement.
Without pausing in his speech, without giving anything away, the president's Stand acted and clapped its hands upon the creature with such force that I was sure the creature had been
ground to dust. The stand, a copper figure wearing a thorny crown and dressed in a long robe of silver, crossed its muscular arms and glared down with impunity at the hands that had yet to return to the wall.
I could hear the intangible figure's heartbeat quicken. He wanted a fast, immediate assassination. Valentine just made that impossible. And so, I asked myself; who would the Earl of Millennium send to kill a high ranking political figure with death butterflies?
My tongue ran across my lips. "Tykki Mikk." I whispered.
Quietly, I waited for a reply.
I was not disappointed.
-x-
One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train
End-214
