CHAPTER 12 : A KIDNAPPING

“Upon defeat of an enemy, there lies only two options. The promise of a newfound peace based on the mutual trust of the opposing parties, or utter annihilation”. - Milano Vortisissmo, The Merchant of War.

It was the morning and surrounded by all the drama and inner turmoil that existed within Tommy’s heart, one could have expected a restless night fueled with adrenaline and coffee. Funnily enough, this could not have been further from reality. Sleep was not an option that had ever left Tommy even amidst all his… Shenanigans. Consequently, when he had woken in the morning, he was bestowed with ample repose and rest, the lack of facial imperfections like bags under eyes giving him a handsome look even.

And if there was anything he would do with his cognitive abilities in full gear, it would be to dress for the occasion. With a flourish of his hand, and not so graceful ‘flourish’ of his legs. He put on the clothes he had prepared the night prior. Choosing to wear black trousers and a blazer that carried golden and silver lines throughout it. His hand, caressing the second to last addition to his wear, slowly but surely, put on his meshing of a white capelet.

He was now only one item away from completion, and with an added last touch, Tommy put on a maroon tie.

Truly extravagant, and conventional by a mages standard, he took no wrong with it, and admired his getup.

If one would have inquired where he had gotten such a thing, then he would have replied with pride. Telling you proudly that it was custom made with only the most intricate of materials, providing both protection, maneuverability and style, while avoiding the question all together. Any reasonable individual would have thought it stupid to have such a elaborate set of clothes, and all for what? A single event? What they would not realize though, is that Tommy held not one, not two, but multiple copies of the same clothing.

Though stylistically the same, they came with different accessories and addons for different scenarios. Whether it be a situation demanding protection from heat, cold, or gunfire, he was ready.

That was right, he was pretty much like a cartoon character, of whom the animators were too lazy to draw new outfits for, consequently allocating them to a single one. Such was one of the troubles of unique designs after all, while preferable, it was inescapable that the effort to keep them came at the cost of in-universe logic. Though not in this case.

As a child, Tommy often spent time in the company of cartoons, and looking up to them, had hoped that his own life would get made into one eventually. Thus, when he had finally gained the resources to ease such a thing into existence, he hoped that his already prepared clothes would have been able to provide suitable explanations and solace to the minds of his future contractors.

Then it occurred to him. That was right, now was the time to fit the final piece of the puzzle in.

The time to execute Phase 3.

Engaged in a little strut of sorts, his little charade had almost rendered him forgetful of what he had intended to do. Almost.

For what Tommy lacked in wisdom, he made up for in intelligence and dedication. Following his plan through, he left his room and had begun to pace towards the dormitory of none other than someone dear to Lucius. Word having reached his ear of her location thanks to his faithful lackeys, he had found the room of Lucius’ supposed girlfriend, an individual named Morgana, who according to his research, had been with the half-elf for quite some time, and thereby harboured a connection with him that could potentially even amount to love.

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This was important, emotional leverage was a fundamental aspect in his scheme after all.

With a few knocks, Tommy waited, and soon was greeted by none other than his victim.

“Hello, may I help you?” She politely inquired.

“In fact, yes, you may.” He replied.

Heh, heh, heh.

One must make note that while Tommy had been saying all of this, that his body was uncontrollably shaking with some kind of curse-induced hysteria, a wide smile donning his face.

If your natural reaction would be to simply shut the door in his face and call the police, it would not be unwarranted.

However the combination of Morgana’s inherent kindness, and faith in her ability made her offer a lending ear. What was the worst that could happen right? As such, in her moment of compassion, Tommy had led her to the nearby forest. Of which, in the span of a night, had been subject to the whims of nature, a fresh sheet of white snow now sparkling under moonshine, as the rise of sun was still halted by its nocturnal counterpart, the effects of winter and early morning played hand in hand. The white flakes of cold still blowing past in a horizontal blur, the scene was simply spectacular.

Morgana stopped to take in the view. “It’s very beautiful”. She commented. To her, who spent the majority of her time in a city riddled by pollution and metal, it truly was novel. Her breath forming shapes in the cold as she followed in his wake, Tommy halted. It seemed as if he would reply, and after a moment he did.

“Yes, much like the blood of your boyfriend.”

“...”

Now mind you, this was not meant to be a particularly witty well-timed statement, as he had a melangerie of other one liners for that, Tommy himself even, had been slightly astonished by the fact that he had let himself have such an outburst.

As such, quickly pushing the idea out of his head, he attributed it to upcoming stress and instead diverted his full focus to rectifying the situation.

“Actually, it was a compliment.”

Needless to say, he failed.

Morgana may have been good natured, but she was not stupid. With a quick mutter under her breath, the Resolve in her flared, a feeling not dissimilar to that of blood rushing through her veins. Molten metal came into existence in the palm of her hand, changing, it formed the faint shape of a weapon before finalizing in the form of a dagger.

The product of a skill set exclusive to her, in the world of Resolve, genetics and talent alike, lended itself to the formation of ‘Idiosyncrasies'. With each individual being able to manifest a unique ability through sufficient training, it is a skill that, unlike magic, was theoretically accessible by all.

While the ability was still in its infantile stage, it should have served to be useful regardless.

In fact, if Morgana wished, she could have chosen to create a sword, but she didn’t. As she chose to believe in her own capability to de-escalate this situation without need of a severe tactical advantage, she instead opted for a smaller albeit still efficient weapon.

“I’m no idiot.” She expressed it bluntly. “What do you want with me, and more importantly, Lucius?”.

“Good question.” Tommy replied, keeping his cool despite the sharp object pressing into his back.

“Why don’t you let me show you?”

Immediately, as if his words were an incantation or a means of summoning, two boys, both a part of his squad of goons, walked out from the trees surrounding him. While in any normal situation, she would have taken them on, this was not a situation that could be solved with mere violence.

For wrapped around each of them were what appeared to be large black and white centipedes, their large legs apparent as they caressed the fragile necks of their prey, one word away from taking their lives.

“Now, if you don’t agree to my terms, don’t expect them to live” he smirked, shaking from excitement in anticipation of what was to come.